Power Trip: Double Helix, Book 1 (12 page)

Her eyes flashed. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

He chuckled, moving toward her. “I’m not disappointed. Far from it. Sure you can try it—take off your clothes.”

“What?” She jerked back.

He pointed at the mannequin. “Do you see any clothes on him? The wires need to touch your skin, and it seems logical to begin our next experiment in the lab anyway.”

She lifted her chin and pulled her shoulders back, searching his eyes. What was she looking for? He waited for a question, but she said nothing.

The zipper of her fleece sounded loud in the charged silence. She shrugged out of it, folded it and set it neatly on a lab stool. Her T-shirt followed, leaving her in jeans and a lacy white bra. She toed off her sneakers, bent and placed them under the stool. He watched her breasts rise and fall, her belly tighten, as she reached for the button of her jeans. When they were folded too, she stood only in her bra, panties and thick, white sport socks.

“Leave the rest.” He liked her practical yet sexy lingerie, and he didn’t want her feet to be chilled by the cold tile.

He wanted to touch her, but he didn’t dare. She wasn’t hooked up to any monitors and his electrons were massing, rioting, begging for release. He pulled a pair of insulating gloves from his desk drawer and put them on, noting her eyelids dipped as he did. “Why did you just look away?” he asked.

“I’m disappointed you’re not going to touch me.”

Her honest answer pleased him and made it doubly hard to control his charge. “Soon,” he said. “Don’t knock the gloves. They offer many erotic opportunities. May I touch you?”

She rolled her eyes. “You have to ask? I just said I wanted you to.”

“I do. Permission is one of the basic tenets of BDSM. We begin now. What is your safe word?”

“Red.” Her voice was soft, her eyes clear.

“And what will you say if you are uncomfortable?”

“Yellow.”

“And how do you feel now?”

“Green.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder and looked down into her eyes. “Is your brain slipping out of gear?” He knew it was, even before she nodded. Her pupils were dilated. Her breath came in time with his. He felt immense satisfaction in being able to safely run his hands over her compact muscles and feminine curves. “Just stand still while I touch you.” He stroked his hands over her arms, down to her wrists and back up again. He let his palms drift over her chest to cup her small, firm breasts, filling his hands with their sweet weight. He pinched her nipples, making her gasp.

“You have a beautiful body,” he said, dying to press his lips to her shoulder. Not yet. Not until she was monitored.

She sighed, a harsh sound of frustration, not a soft sound of longing.

“Patience,” he urged, not having much himself.

“I have patience,” she grumbled. “But in some situations, I expect immediate gratification. You aren’t touching the parts that want attention.”

“You’re aroused?” he asked. “You want to have an orgasm now?”

She rolled her eyes at his rhetorical question, turning her face away from him, effectively cutting off communication. He knew how to get her attention.

“I could make you come.” With one hand, he pulled her panties aside and with the other he cupped her mound. The gloves were made out of rubber, highly insulating, but thin. He could feel every slippery fold of her sex. He pulled back until the tip of his gloved finger touched her clit. He circled. She made a strangled sound.

“Does that feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she panted, hands curling into tight fists at her sides. She bucked her hips.

“Hold still.” She stopped moving immediately. He flicked her nub, barely touching it, imagining the wings of a butterfly. He was attuned to her every response as he made slow circles around her clit. A flush spread across her chest. Her eyes clamped shut. Her thighs tensed and she began to pant. He took his hand away and pulled her panties back into their proper place.

Her eyes shot wide.

“I promise I will give you an orgasm,” he said before she could release the scream he sensed was coming. “But let me ask you this. How does it feel to stand mostly naked in front of me? To anticipate my touch, to wonder what I have planned for you, to trust that I will stay focused on your pleasure and draw it out as long as possible?” As he spoke, his fingers danced over her skin, tweaking a nipple, brushing against the front of her panties, reaching behind her to squeeze her ass.

“You are a sadistic bastard.” Her eyes followed his hands.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“I want to come,” she said, at last. “I feel desperate, but now that you’ve pointed it out, I can see that the build-up is also…fun.” Her lips twisted in a wry smile. “I understand why you enjoy this game.”

He slid his hand into her panties again.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“You are a very quick study. I might be a sadistic bastard, but I’m not a monster.” He could wait a little longer for his release, but it wasn’t fair to leave her hanging. A reluctant novice couldn’t be expected to appreciate the finer aspects of edging. “Plus, you’ve given me an idea. I want to hook you up to the bio-enhancer and see if any of the energy I pumped into you last night is still there. But first I’m going to reward you with an orgasm.”

“Reward me?” Her mouth fell open, in outrage, he assumed.

“I support your feminist principles one hundred percent, but let me make another point. Focus on the level of your arousal as I tell you how I would like to spend the next few hours.” She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, telling him she was listening. “I want to make you come so you aren’t distracted while we experiment with a lethal weapon. After our experiment, I want to clamp your nipples and hang a chain between them. I want to put a spreader bar between your knees so that you can’t rub your thighs together while I electrically stimulate your nipples until you orgasm again. By then I’ll have had just about all the fun I can handle without setting the basement on fire, so I’ll whip you and fuck you.” He moved his fingers in and out of her body, gliding on the moisture pouring from her folds. “It turns me on to treat you like a submissive. Will you allow me the pleasure?”

Her body spoke for her, flushing, scenting the air with arousal, but he waited for her consent. “Yes.”

“Why?” he asked, pressing two fingers deep inside her. Her body fluttered around his hand, making him, impossibly, harder. He composed his expression, expecting her answer to have something to do with exploring her talent.

She swallowed. “Because I like what you are doing…very much.”

He released a breath, delighted. “Then sit on the stool and hold on with your hands. Put your feet on the rungs and spread your knees. Watch my hand.”

He moved with her as she pulled another stool from beneath the table and eased onto it. When she was in position, he said, “Sit up straight.” The position was perfect, tilting her sex toward the stool. He kept his index finger inside her, base touching her clit, tip curved toward her g-spot and the length of his finger pressed against the engorged tissue of her vulva. “Ride my finger,” he commanded. “Grind until you come.”

He suspected it was the first time anyone had made a sexual demand like that of her, but she didn’t hesitate. She kept her eyes on the spot where his hand disappeared inside her and slowly began to move her hips, moving faster as the sturdy stool held steady as she rocked. She swelled against him, squeezing his finger as she took her pleasure. Her breath came faster and his did too.

She began to whimper, body jerking out of control as she climaxed hard. The urge to pull her off the stool, bend her over the table and replace his hand with his cock froze him in place. Then he pulled his hand away from her body and closed his eyes. It took every ounce of control to keep his energy inside. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t see anything except blue fire behind his eyelids. He focused on the sound of her breathing, slowing down now, and tried to match the speed of his electrons to the easy sound of her breaths.

“Cal?” she whispered. “Are you all right?”

His eyes cast blue light on her cheeks when he opened them. “I’ve got too much energy. I’m sorry, Audrey, but I need to work after all. If I don’t dump some electrons, I’ll combust.”

“Can’t you dump them into me?” She got off the stool, weaving a little. He didn’t dare touch her to steady her.

“Not this much,” he said tightly.

“Isn’t that what we want to find out? How many I can take?”

She had a point, but it still made him nervous. “I don’t think anyone could handle me right now.”

“I’m not just anyone, Cal. It’s weird that you’re electric in the first place. Is it impossible to believe that maybe I won’t be affected? Come on, wire me up. Let’s see.”

Desire was building again, making him feel reckless. He examined her back as she walked toward the door. Her body showed no signs of their play last night, and he ached to begin again, to create the patterns of welts and light, to smell smoke on her skin, to make her scream.

“Come on, Cal.” She stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder. “You aren’t exactly showing me your best side here. Get a grip. Isn’t BDSM about control?”

“I have perfect control of my cock, thank you very much,” he said dryly. “Quit baiting me. I’ve got a million amps rushing through me.” Actually, he was feeling steadier now, calm enough to continue with Plan A, but Plan B was incredibly tempting. He followed her out of the lab, undecided.

She was already braless and stepping out of her panties. She climbed up on the table and took off her socks. When she went facedown and spread her legs, he couldn’t resist any longer. He hit the button to engage the monitors. Swiftly, he strapped her down.

He stood by her head. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

She lifted her head, dark eyes issuing a challenge. “Green.”

Audrey lowered her face into the headrest and closed her eyes, waiting. Her body sang with aftershocks from her orgasm in the lab, and she welcomed the sensual caress of the cold leather against her heated skin. The monitors whirred; she heard the sound of a cabinet open and shut.

A waterfall of sensation rushed over her back from shoulders to thighs. What was it? She lifted her head, but he was standing near her feet now and she couldn’t see him.

“Wire flogger,” he supplied.

She relaxed against the table again, curiosity satisfied. She felt as if he were painting her bottom with broad, tingling strokes. The wires felt soft as corn silk, wrapping around her body, tickling her with feather-light touches that made her crave more. Begging seemed appropriate under the circumstances, but she hesitated. She didn’t beg—for anything.

No one ever made you want to beg.
Cal had said this was a game, a role, not a reflection of inner weakness. What was the point of doing it if she wasn’t going to fully embrace the experience?

“More, please. I need more.” Saying it aloud made her arousal nearly unbearable. “Please,” she begged.

“I chose this flogger because nichrome has a high resistivity and the strands of the flogger spread out the charge. It’s safer for you.”

“Cal, I think you’re missing the point.” And ruining her good time. “We’ll never know how much I can take if you don’t give me anything.”

The tickling stopped. She growled in frustration. Cal grasped her hair and pulled her head back. His face was hard and she felt sparks on her face as he said, “You put yourself under my hands. I make the choices for both of us until this scene is over or you use your safeword. I have a plan, but I don’t feel like telling you. It gives me a hard-on to tease you. Your ass is beautiful right now, patterned with curling ribbons of thin welts. The monitors show no changes. Stop thinking and take what I give you. I’m in charge.”

His words caused a sharp throb between her thighs, and her hips jerked against the restraints. Embarrassment and fury made her tug against his hand. He gripped her hair tighter. She winced. A small smile curved his mouth. The bastard was enjoying her pain and humiliation.

Of
course
he was. He was a sadist, a Dominant—and she had agreed to this submissive role. She closed her eyes.
Think, think.
But she couldn’t—she could only feel. The hard grip of his hand in her hair, the intense throb between her thighs, the heat blooming across her ass—she wanted more and the only way she was going to get it was by letting him stay in control. On a slow exhalation, she let go and began to float.

He must have felt her neck muscles go lax because he gently lowered her head into the headrest. “That’s it. Good girl. You’ve earned another reward. I’ll use a stainless steel crop on you now.”

She had a few seconds to register amusement in his voice before his first strike set her ass on fire. She felt the heat everywhere. Flames licked her body. Pleasure bore down on her, so focused she felt as if her entire body were being compressed. She screamed, seeking a way to release the pressure before she imploded.

He peppered her ass with quick strokes, making her scream again. Her throat felt raw and each cry increased the need between her thighs. He paused, and the pressure eased. She sucked deep, slow breaths. She heard him laugh. With delight? Relief? A thousand questions crowded her mind but she’d learned her lesson. She would hold onto her questions until later.