“Keep breathing, cara. You’re doing so well. It’ll feel so much better in a minute, I promise.” He leaned over her, swiping one hand across her ass and the other up and down her back.
A minute? He wanted her to wait a whole minute? “I—I can’t!”
“Ssshhh. Breathe through it.”
“Shut. Up.”
The words were barely out when the hand at her ass lifted, coming down in a pair of fast whacks. “I said I’ll give you what you need, Celina. When did you stop believing that?”
She let him have only a seething moan. But somewhere between the start and the end of that sound, something amazing happened. A new sensation flooded her sex. Warmth. No, heat. A rushing, enveloping, better-than-a-vibrator jolt of it. All the blood the clamps had staved off now had a massive reunion party with her labia, her clit, even her inner thighs. It was such a shock, she forgot to be mad anymore, even when Dante’s low chuckle filled the air from above.
“Do you trust me now, stellina? And yes, you can certainly answer that.”
“Y-yes. Okay. All right. I trust you, Sir. I do. Oh shit!” She cried it out when the press of his hand came again, tracing a confident path through her wet folds before he deepened the probe into her convulsing core. First one finger twisted at her pussy. Then two. His thrusts filled the air between them with a moist, rhythmic music.
“And do you believe now that a few nips of pain can turn into a great deal of pleasure?”
She scowled, not caring if he saw. It hadn’t been just a “few nips.” Wisely, she held that back. But she couldn’t fling a single word of argument about the pleasure. Waves of the stuff hit her even now, like a rising tide against the shore, surging, sensual, uncontrollable. As Dante worked a third finger into her vagina, her senses lifted off from that beach and into the clouds once more. Ironically, she felt her head fall as the sensation took over.
“Celina? An answer?”
“All right!” she retorted. “Yes; yes, you’re right. Pain…can lead to pleasure…”
“Good girl. Whose pleasure?”
She squirmed. “I can’t just say that!”
He withdrew his index finger and joined it with his thumb to form a new clamp on her labia. The skin was still sensitive, and she winced.
“
Whose pleasure
, Celina?”
“Wh-why the hell are you forcing this?”
“To make you hear how beautiful you are.” His voice was rough as his touch. “And to make you remember it, for a very long while to come. To make sure you remember me.” He twisted his grip on her aching tissues before commanding again, “Whose pleasure, Celina?”
“Damn it! M-mine!”
It felt like nails on a mental chalkboard to talk about herself like this, but partly because his fingers wouldn’t accept anything else from her. But oh God, pleasure was just the beginning of what his touch fast turned into, now softening into a glorious massage on her folds. He shifted a little again, until his fingers stroked her clit and his thumb arched up to prod the ring of her ass.
She gasped. She’d never been touched there before, and his naughty little circles around the sensitive rim were like a taste of the most forbidden nectar on earth. “Ohhhh!”
His low, confident hum warmed the air. “Now admit I was right.”
“Right…about what?” To be honest, he could’ve directed her to agree they’d get a heat wave tomorrow, and she’d acquiesce. Not that she’d say so out loud.
“I promised you’d get what you need.” He rolled his touch, his fingers incessant at both her clit and her anus. “Are you getting what you need, cara?”
“Ohhh shit!”
He gave her thigh a sharp swat. “My answer?”
She glowered. This time, she hoped he saw it. The man was becoming very fond of spanking her.
“Yes,” she snapped. “You know that’s true, so why do you—
owwww
!”
He gave her another smack. This one smarted. He dealt it to the exact same place as its predecessor, burning the skin atop her hip bone.
“Why don’t you rephrase that statement, counselor?”
She could tell he smirked his way through that order. Celina’s stomach knotted in preparation for the backlash her mind was about to deal.
Counselor
. Why did he have to go there? But why
wouldn’t
he go there? He probably thought it was a compliment. No,
no
. Dante had seen places inside her from the start, places she often didn’t see herself. Tonight of all nights, he had to realize how she’d fought so many parts of herself, especially that methodical lawyer, just to walk into his building. So he had to know. He had to realize that any minute now, that word would yank her out of this sensual bliss and into the world where she remembered exactly who she was, and why she shouldn’t be doing this with him.
Anguish tore at her heart and stung her eyes.
Damn it!
She routed through her mind for his silly safe word.
Her mind.
Wait. Her mind. It was all still here. Of course it was.
She
was all still here.
She shook her head, feeling blinded even in this darkness. She hadn’t left Celina Kouris behind at all. Celina had been right here. Not forgotten, simply changed. Opened. Awakened. And damn him,
bless
him, Dante knew that too. She could still be every inch the counselor in choosing to be submissive. When her body knelt for him, her spirit had never stood taller. And in the surrender she gave to him, she’d never given more power back to herself.
The light of the revelation intensified. It suddenly all made sense, a prism of breathtaking logic, a gift from this act she’d looked at as the most insane thing she’d ever done in her life.
Wanting this, craving this, wasn’t some dirty secret hidden in her psyche. It spoke to the very heart of who she was. Just like the man who’d given it to her. The person who’d burst into her world with larger-than-life force had also given her a larger-than-life lesson.
In return, he only asked one thing. Her submission. He didn’t even demand forever. He was willing to take just this tiny bubble of time, a dark and beautiful escape of their own, where they discovered these amazing parts of themselves together.
And right now, she wanted exactly the same thing.
Chapter Fifteen
Dante knew he’d hit a nerve with the word. It was the precise reason he’d used it.
It was a ballsy gamble, reminding her of everything she’d had to shove away just to walk in here tonight. But fuck it, he didn’t want just slices of her. Even now, he wasn’t going to settle for that. From the second he’d laid eyes on her, he’d dreamed of uncovering every speck of her, an exigency that only began with her body. But damn it, he’d also counted on having months to do that, indulging in gentle peel-backs of her layers, one careful section at a time.
Gentle had to go out the window tonight.
So here he was, taking a chance on the emotional Russian roulette. He knew the possible consequences. He knew that any second, she’d slice the air with her safe word. Despite the drawl with which he’d spun his challenge, his gut braced itself to free her from the cuffs and walk her out the door.
Instead, as she’d done so many times since the moment they’d met, she stunned his soul—which carried instant ramifications in his cock.
She dropped her head again. This time, the movement was slow, sure, and very much on purpose. And holy fuck, she didn’t stop there. The lower her face dipped, the farther she extended her arms, stretching them toward the bedposts until they disappeared into the decorative pillows, flat against the bed. She laid her head down next, though she turned her head so he could see the sweet, peaceful smile that pulled at her lips.
“I’m getting everything I need, Sir Tieri. Thank you.”
If her gorgeous velvet tone didn’t make turn him inside out, then the way she raised her back end higher at him, offering it with crystal-clear suggestion, officially did. “But are
you
getting the same? What do
you
need?”
First, he had to keep himself from swallowing his tongue. Assuring it was in the right place, he returned, “Celina, if you really knew the answer to that—”
“Enlighten me.” She rubbed her torso against the blanket, then added fast, “Please, Sir. I do want to know.”
He indulged the temptation to swat her. “Speaking out of turn again, cara? Tsk-tsk, baby.” This time he kept his touch on her skin, stroking the blooms of heat across her high, tight swells. The light toffee of her skin had started to pinken. Knowing he was the one who’d put that blush there… Christ, it was a turn-on like he’d never known. Even his balls throbbed now, demanding to be let out of their denim prison. Soon, damn it. God, he hoped,
soon.
But not too soon. Right now, he planned to draw this all out as long as he could. To thoroughly enjoy the breathtaking fantasy who’d come to life in his bed. Yeah, the same one who now lifted a taunting pout at him from beneath her mask.
He almost laughed at this streak of cheek that had taken over his serious, steadfast Celina, but another action felt more right. Moving so he stood at the side of the bed again, he reached and ripped her mask off. As he expected, the action caused her to jolt and blink. But the second her gaze found his, she gave back as good a shock as he’d given. Her emerald eyes were filled with a mixture of things that stole his breath. Total desire. Total adoration. Total trust. All directed at him. All
for
him.
Holy fuck. What had happened to her in the darkness behind that mask? He looked down at the blindfold as if it would reveal its magic secret to him.
“Didn’t you say we were only taking off?”
He tilted his head. Oh yeah, something had definitely happened inside that gorgeous head of hers. She’d spiraled fast toward the submissive high; that much was so plain, she should’ve just sprouted wings and flown around the room. But this development was different. This was a deeper barrier through which she’d pushed, a mental barricade she’d pulverized. And he was
not
complaining. Not one damn bit.
Not that he was about to let
her
know.
“And didn’t I say your words were only for direct responses to questions?” He backed up the response with the single step he took back, letting her watch as he traced fingers over all the hanging implements he’d selected with her beautiful backside in mind. When he heard her breath snag as he arrived at a long, shiny black paddle, he smiled and pulled it free.
Perfect.
“Now you’ll use your mouth for something a little more useful, cara,” he said as he stroked her cheeks with the polished wood. He finally rested the end of the paddle on her lips. “Kiss it.” As he watched her obey, pressing her lips lightly to the wood, he hissed from the agony of the fantasy filling his mind. He longed for her to render the same service to his cockhead. “Lovely. So lovely, baby. Now do it again. Close your eyes this time and think of me taking that wood to your ass.”
Shit. Just shit. She not only followed the directions to the letter, but committed herself so fully to the act that he watched her thick lashes quiver against her cheeks and heard a low whimper in her throat. She was completely wrapped in what looked like arousal or fear, or perhaps a mind-fucking combination of the two. All he knew for sure was his own torturous mixture of impulses. Let her keep worshipping the damn paddle, giving him the most exquisite sight he’d had in thirty years of sexual experience, or man the hell up and get on with using the thing to brand her with his domination?
“Enough.” His command was a coarse grate as he pulled the wood from her mouth, trailed it down the smooth plane of her back, then up over the rise of her backside, where the blush from his other swats already began to fade. Well, that wouldn’t do.
“You need to be marked, stellina.” He dragged his fingers over the firm swells, coaxing her body into a higher arch for him. As he slid onto the bed again and moved behind her, he reveled in how the new position also gave him a stunning view of her pussy. The curls were moist, the folds red and plump. “Fuck, yes. You need to be marked by me.”
He replaced his hands with the top of the paddle now, savoring the way her eyes drifted shut while he traced circles on her skin with the flat of the wood. After a minute of that, he dealt some careful, light taps on the meat of her buttocks. She tensed. He wiped his palm across the light marks he’d left.
“Warm already,” he murmured. “Do you feel it, baby?”
She nodded. He didn’t push her for anything more of a response. This time, he wanted her mind to slip and her senses to soar. The higher he could rocket her, the better, though he wasn’t going to make the trip easy. He loved watching her shiver, sigh, pant, and writhe for him. They were all such incongruities to the persona she gave the rest of the world. They were all precious gifts to him.
He gave her another easy warm-up. Soon, she was rolling her hips and ass at him. Her shoulders bunched as she pulled at the restraints. He watched everything closely. The pace of her breathing. The dew of her perspiration. The tension of her neck. The pats didn’t look like much, but he knew damn well what he was asking her to take, even now. Though the paddle was barely wider than a paint stir stick, he knew what it felt like. He’d tried every implement on that rack out on his own forearm first. Of course, he thought the preparation would help him draw out his self-control, should this exact dream ever truly come true. He couldn’t have been more wrong on
that
particular note. He wondered if his dick would ever speak to him again after its enslavement in his pants for so long.
“Let’s heat it up a little more, baby.”
He got bolder with the smacks. Celina didn’t say anything, but he saw the pillows rise as she gripped the wrist cuffs harder. Holy fuck, how he wanted to say something himself. The need burned to tell her what a dream come true she was, how every erotic script he’d written for the two of them could be burned in comparison to the reality, how deeply she moved him with this offering of herself. But wherever her head was, he wanted it there. It was time to lay down the first of the tougher strokes.