Nordic Lessons (12 page)

I reach for the tie on my dress and my shaky fingers freeze as I hear a low, very displeased, “All right?”

Shit!
“A-all right Master.” It wasn’t hard to choose the term. It suits him—perfectly, actually. Sir reminds me of a knighted person and my liege was just too formal and weird. Yes, Master is both hot and intense. I actually feel sexy saying it to him. I yearn to submit as much as he desires to dominate me.

His eyes burn with pleasure as he nods in approval. I pull the tie of the bow on my hip and the blue fabric flutters open. Reaching in, I let the last tie go and my dress gapes open.

“Slide it off, slowly.”

I shiver in delight at his richly accented voice. It rolls through me when he speaks. I reach up to my shoulders, never breaking eye contact, and shrug the dress off, hearing it whoosh down to the floor.

His burning eyes drink me in from head to toe. I’ve worn my best set of Agent Provocateur lingerie for him tonight. I hope he enjoys the black cutwork bra and panties. I purchased them on High Street back in London, secretly wishing that one day I would cross paths with a dominant man who would fully appreciate them ….

His voice is strained and thick as he says, “Beautiful, Elora. Christ, woman, you could give a man a stroke in that gear. Unreal, baby. Now your boots.”

His encouraging words fire up my confidence. I toss my hair to one side, hold his gaze and lean forward to slowly unzip the inside of my right boot. I smile inwardly, knowing that the sheer balconette style bra barely contains my breasts, and at this angle ….

I pull off each boot and set them aside. I stand and touch my palms to my thighs and await further instruction.
Be a good girl for him ….
His muscles are tense and straining. His white cotton Henley highlights his honeyed skin. I find it fascinating that his face gives nothing away. An unwavering mask of sheer control. Fascinating beyond measure.

His voice cuts through the room in a near growl. “Lose the bra. Keep the panties in place.”

Nibbling on my bottom lip, I reach around to slowly unhook the clasp. Once it’s free I hesitate out of shyness, holding the delicate scrap of material up against my chest, breathing hard.

He tilts his held to one side. His eyes narrow as annoyance tightens his chiseled features. “Disobedience already, sub?”

“No. Not in the least, just … shy, Master.” I feel the heat rise up in my cheeks as my arms fall forward, the fine material falling down to flutter at my toes. My heart sprints as I catch sight of the steel bar of an erection that is distinctly outlined beneath the right side of his dark washed jeans. Huge and imposing.
Oh hell, yes!

He’s watchful, eyes moving between my alert nipples and my face. “Show me how you like your tits touched.”

I freeze up.
Touch myself in front of him? Could I?
My mind races with the intimidating thought.

“Oh!” I call out because he’s moved with lightning speed to close the small space between us. He immediately grasps my right elbow, spins me around, and marches me to the low, sideways-S-shaped lounge chair. Pushing me, belly first, over the leather, he reaches down and over me, placing a leather strap firmly in each of my shaking palms.

His rich, controlled voice curls around me in a dark embrace, “Don’t you dare let go. When I give a command you are to follow it quickly and gracefully. Am I clear, little sub?”

The directness in his firm voice is unmistakable. I’m angry with myself for not obeying. I shouldn’t have been so timid.

“Yes Master, very clear. I-I’m sorry.”

Shit, why is my voice cracking?

“Not yet, you aren’t, little sub, but you will be soon.”

What?

I squeeze tightly on the straps in anticipation of the unknown. I assume a spanking is in order, but with what? Out of the corner of my eye, off to my left, I see his bare feet and jeans. I hear a low dark murmur, “Been dying to lay into this juicy ass since I saw you on the road that day. Now hold still, baby.”

“Agh!” I cry out as the force of his strong hand connects with my tanga-clad bottom. The burn is all-consuming and spreads immediately, flooding my poor behind with instantaneous pain. The main thought bouncing around in my skull is,
He’s really spanking me!
followed by,
Oh, fuck, how I love it!

Naughty … so unbelievably naughty.

He’s not being easy on me. The blows rain down in a constant torrent of cascading pain.
Oh God, I doubt I’ll be able to sit for a good long while!
I can hear his harsh breathing above me. His wide hand is planted firmly between my shoulder blades to hold me firmly against the pristine, sloped leather.

“Breathe through it, Elora.”

His reassurance sparks something inside me. Suddenly the pain on my behind feels more like heat and the surging blood flow has my pussy aching with desperate need. I shove my cheek down against the leather and fight the urge to wiggle my hips around.

I would do anything to get off!

Suddenly, the methodical blows cease and his arms are pulling me up by the waist. Stunned, I realize that tears have tracked down my cheeks, and I quickly brush them away as he walks me back to my original position.

With his hot hands still steadying me, he studies me closely and says, “Now,
min
skjønne,
with that out of the way, let’s try this again.”

I’m ashamed that I screwed up so early on but I cast that thought aside as a lesson learned. “Yes Master.”

I peek up through my damp lashes as he takes two long steps back and stands to observe me. I’m just about to reach for my breasts when his thick voice commands, “Stop. Lose the panties.”

On autopilot I slide my thumbs into the delicate waistband and slide the lace down and off my legs. Without looking I discard them in the pile near my dress. I stare into his eyes, so full of lust.
Gorgeous.

“Kneel for me.”

I lower down to my knees, never breaking eye contact. The slick wood feels cool against my shins.

“Lace your fingers behind your lower back.”

As soon as I thread them together, he says, “Now spread those knees out wide and arch your back forward.”

I start to hesitate, embarrassed by how exposed I will be, but my discomfort is outweighed by the desire to both please him and avoid punishment. Within seconds I’m positioned and awaiting his command.

With arms crossed he towers over me, looking gigantic. A frisson of fear creeps down my spine
. Relax, you trust him, Elora.

“This is a position that pleases me very much. When I ask for you to present yourself to me, this is what I’m looking for from my sub. Do you understand,
min
skjønne
?”

“Yes, Master.”

He watches me as if studying a complex object. In measured words he tells me, “It’s not for you to decide what you need, what you want during play, ever. I make all those choices for you. Are we clear on this?”

“Very, Master. Yes.”

“Good. Now release your hands and fondle those gorgeous tits for me now, Elora. I want to see what gets you wet.”

I do my best to be seductive, sliding my fingers slowly up my ribcage, coming to a stop as the warmth fills both palms. I give a light squeeze against the fullness and feel my nipples tighten in arousal.
Did I ever notice these subtle responses before? It must be because I’m under his watchful gaze.

Delicately, I tweak and roll each rosy bud. The response is immediate as dampness floods my already aching sex. My mouth parts and a slow moan escapes. I try to focus on him; his breathing is deeper, his chest pumping up and down in strong pulls. So sexy.
God, let him take me soon. This is torture!

“Lower your right hand. Touch that little pussy. Show me what gets you off.”

Yes!

I sway a bit as my middle finger slides down to connect with my throbbing little clit. Does he want me to make myself come? I will and
soon
if this keeps up.

His voice, nearly guttural, grates out, “Fuck yeah, baby. That’s so it. Rub that wetness all around your perfection. Make it really wet for Master’s tongue ’cause I’m gonna lick that sweet cunt clean.”

Oh. My. God. Who knew a filthy mouth could be such a damned turn on?

“Mmm, ohh ….” I can’t resist the animalistic sounds that are coming from my throat. I bear down lower on my legs and slide a finger up into my eager sex. I pump twice into the drenched folds as I twist harder on my left nipple.
So good … mmm, yeah ….

“Stop.” Hard. Direct. Inflexible.

What? No way!

My spine tenses at the harsh command and immediately I remove both hands. I can’t help but fall forward, palms on the floor, panting from the intensity of my arousal … and frustrating denial.

“Get up and move over to the swing, like my good girl.”

On shaky legs, I do as he says and once I’m there, I watch him closely for clues as to whether or not I’m pleasing him. He excels at regimented control, but I can see that all of his muscles, from his neck to his perfectly carved biceps, are straining hard. He’s trying to keep his lust well contained
. I’ve never seen such control.

He murmurs deeply, “Sit down and recline against the back. Once you find a comfortable position, you’re not allowed to move.”

“Okay.”

He freezes solid, eyes tightening into tight slashes.

“I mean, yes, Master.”

Damn. Close call.

As soon as I’m seated and comfortable, he kneels down before me. The swing is swaying a bit with my weight as he gently takes my left heel in his hand and slides the supple, white leather loop over my foot and up my leg, stopping about three inches above my knee. I don’t question. I just go with it as the same is done with the other strap. Everything is on display and a full body blush washes over me as he stares down at my sex like a starved wolf closing in on its prey.

When his mesmerizing eyes lift to connect with mine, I gasp at the raw need radiating from within.

“Grasp those chains, Elora, and don’t you dare let go.”

I can’t reply. My voice is lodged in my throat; anticipation looms as thick as dense fog. The cold chains feel welcoming against my damp palms. I hold tight and stare down at him as he reaches a hand to the back of his corded neck and swiftly pulls the white shirt up and off his body.

I gape at the awesome power of his bare chest. I knew he was built, but the sheer mass of him is astonishing. Heavy muscles stretch deliciously across immense shoulders. I expected a plethora of tattoos, but curiously, there is only one. Just beneath his heart and across his ribs are three lines of dense black script, written in what I think is Norwegian.

“What does it say, Master?”

Without breaking eye contact he explains, “It’s an old Norse proverb from the
Havamal, The Ballad of the High One
, about Odin. It reads, ‘When you recognize evil, speak out against it and give no truces to your enemies.’ ”

“It’s very sexy, Master. It suits you.” He looks pleased as I continue my visual journey south. His stomach is a plank of ripped muscles. I can’t tear my eyes away. My arms begin to shake with the thought of all of that raw power becoming unleased on me. My trembling causes the swing to move to and fro. Noting the movement, he grasps the two front chains that rise up above my legs. I catch a hint of his scent—that delicious cologne, mixed with something darker.

A low growl startles me. I flinch back in surprise as he pulls the seat forward, his dark hair disappearing far down between my spread legs.

Oh, God! Yes! Yes!

The first swipe, right in the middle of my folds, is such incredibly hot perfection …. He presses in so intently that I toss my head back, crying out in desperation. The guttural sound coming from his chest gets louder, so sexy in its force.
Has play ever been this fucking hot? Never. This is like foreplay on a case of Red Bull. Unreal.

He laps endlessly up and back, covering my pussy completely with his expert mouth. The brush of his goatee against my sensitive outer lips is unreal.
Dizzy … I’m so dizzy with desire that I can’t think straight, but I never shut my eyes. I don’t want to miss a second of the action.

His head tips to the right as he applies himself fully to eating me out. On the fifth heavenly upward swipe he connects with my distended clit. Every nerve in my body cries out from the knife-edge of pleasure. I’m about to fall over.
Just a little more … closer … once more, dear God, please!

I know he doesn’t want me to beg, yet the words spill from my lips, “Master … ooh, oh please ….” I can hardly focus anymore. He’s taken me to a place of pure, mindless need.

His head lifts and I’m transfixed by the sight of his slick, glossy lips. Evidence of my arousal gleams on his dark goatee as his lips curl into a sinful smile, revealing his even, white teeth.

He looks nothing short of sinister as he asks, “Like that,
min
skjønne
?”