Read TAMED: #2 in the Fit Trilogy Online
Authors: Rebekah Weatherspoon
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Multicultural & Interracial, #Romance, #Erotica, #erotic romance, #spanking, #flogging, #TAMED, #FIT, #FIT TRILOGY, #Egyptian Heroine, #Latian American Hero, #Interracial Romance, #Bdsm, #Sadomasochism
“And what about him?”
“He was...in control. I’m sure he was turned on, but that didn’t seem to matter. He was so focused. Is it always like that?”
“When it’s right? Yeah. Let’s call it a night.”
Before we fuck each other’s brains out?
she wanted to say, but she kept that to herself.
“Yeah, I should probably get home.” She stood and stretched, trying to ignore the hum that still radiated through her body. Armando stood too, and did absolutely nothing to hide the enormous bulge fighting against the zipper of his jeans. Nailah stepped into her shoes, then scrambled to grab her bag and started for the door. Armando walked her all the way down to her car.
“So what now?” What happens right now? What happens tomorrow? Are we supposed to kiss or…?
“I’ll probably stay up for a few more hours kicking myself for not asking you to spend the night.”
Nailah glared up at him. “Are you flirting with me now?”
“There are rules, but I think flirting’s allowed, if you want it to be.”
“I’m considering it. But yeah, after you cope with your regret, what do we do?”
“Saturday night, can you be open to the possibility of coming back? Maybe spending the night?”
“I can be open to it.” She’d have to come up with an excuse for being gone all night. Her parents would notice if her car wasn’t there in the morning, but she could swing it.
“Why don’t you come back over around eight. You can tell me what you’ve learned from your reading and then we can see where things go from there.”
“Okay.”
“Well, I guess this is goodnight.”
Nailah looked up at him again. Armando just looked back. Okay then. Time to go. She opened her door and got into her car. He didn’t try to stop her. She started her car and he stepped back up on the curb. She started to drive away. He waved then headed back toward his condo.
At the first red light, Nailah pulled out her phone and fired off a text.
Did you seriously just NOT kiss me?
Her phone beeped a few moments later, but she couldn’t check it until the next light.
If I’d kissed you, you would have definitely spent the night.
You say it like that’s a bad thing.
Maybe it is, for me. Maybe I need to pace myself. Now stop texting me and drive.
Nailah didn’t know how that made her feel. She wanted to argue with him some more, but for the first time in her whole life she wanted someone else to be right. She was ready for the games between them to begin. Still, when she got home she sent Armando a little something. You couldn’t see her whole face, but Armando would know it was her as soon as he’d looked at his phone. He’d regret skipping that goodnight kiss.
✶
Armando was distracted. He couldn’t stop thinking about Nailah and the way she made him feel. Or the picture she’d sent him the other night. It wasn’t exactly a nude but it was pretty close. She appeared to be naked, with a light blue blanket tucked under her arms as she sat up in bed. It came with a text that said
I could have stayed
. He knew he’d made the right decision, sending her home, but everything that had happened, the way she’d reacted to Daniel’s video, the blunt way she spoke to him, combined with the fact that she seemed to really be into it, made no sense. He didn’t realize how out of it he was until Keira came up behind him and poked him in the ribs.
“Whatcha doing?” she asked in her usual light tone.
By all appearances, he was standing outside the gym staring aimlessly across the street. “Waiting on Connie. She borrowed my truck.” He held out his hands, palms up, as he answered. Keira knew what time it was. They engaged in their daily game of patty-cake. They improvised of course, adding in a few extra moves to spice things up.
“Oh, yay. I love Connie.”
Armando remembered wanting to strangle Grant when he first hired Keira. She was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen but, after a few days, he’d come to see her as a sister and less of the object of his lust, mostly because she reminded him so much of Connie. Keira and his baby sister were nearly identical in their temperament, even their mannerisms. Both shy at times, then shockingly outgoing when they were in their comfort zone. Connie’s comfort zone was on stage with her guitar. Keira’s was in the gym with her small group of kickboxing students.
“You look all zoned out. What’s on your mind?” Keira asked, as she flipped his hands over and lightly slapped the backs. He returned the affectionate slap a second later. He wasn’t sure how to answer the question. Half of the truth just sort of tumbled out.
“I’m having trouble with a girl.”
“Good trouble or bad trouble?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“I know my sex life is non-existent, but do you want to talk about it?” Keira asked.
“She’s harmless, ya know? I mean, she’s a smartass and not someone I would fuck with intentionally.”
“She’s no pushover.”
“Not even close.”
“Good. And?”
“She’s a good person, I think. Under all that, I get the sense that she’s actually kind of sweet.”
“But?”
“I don’t know. Harmless and sweet can become dangerous...hazardous in the wrong situation.”
“Hazardous, huh? If she’s all of these things, then the only hazardous part of the equation would be you?”
That, right there, was the problem. Armando was starting to like Nailah. They’d texted a few more times since they’d last seen each other. She had questions about her assigned reading. Thoughtful, legitimate questions, but every brief conversation ended with some smartass comment, some dig that undeniably turned Armando on. He’d never been with a woman as green as Nailah, but he’d never been with a woman as smart or as inquisitive as she was either.
She’d asked him for something pretty specific: introduction and guidance. She would glean what she could from him, and then find a Dom who truly suited her. Or maybe she’d figure out the submissive life wasn’t for her. Either way, Armando had a feeling his time with Nailah Shalaby was limited. And he didn’t like that.
“Nah,” Armando finally said. “I wouldn’t do anything hazardous.”
Just then, Connie pulled up in his pickup.
“Well, the real question is, do you like her?” Keira asked.
Connie came around the side of the truck, all sweaty and covered in dust. She’d spent the morning helping a friend move. Armando and Keira hugged her anyway.
“Do you like who?” Connie asked, as she handed over his keys.
“Your brother’s having girl problems.”
“Ah. Well, yeah. That’s a good point. Do you like her?”
Best to come clean now so Connie could blab all his business to his family instead of them trying to drag it from him as a group. His dads never bugged him for details if his sisters spilled them first.
Armando sighed and let out the uncomfortable confession. “Yeah, I do.”
But the question still remained; did he let Nailah in on the truth? Not now, he thought to himself. Not just yet.
Nailah cleared her weekend. As far as her family was concerned she was cashing in a day and a night a client had given her at a spa in Santa Barbara. Her father didn’t like the idea of her going away alone, but her mother insisted she needed a break since she’d been working so hard. Nailah almost felt bad for lying.
Armando was waiting for her outside again. He greeted her with a quick hug, then took her overnight bag and led her up to his condo. The place was nice, new construction. Just enough units to justify the space it took up on the block, but few enough that you could get to know your neighbors, if you wanted to. Nailah loved the open floor plan of his condo, but it needed some work. It was so bland. No decoration at all, just the essential furniture. They’d have to have a chat about it at some point. She couldn’t let someone she was associated with live in such conditions.
“You’re quiet again,” Armando said, as he placed her bag on the counter.
Nailah was nervous. Too nervous. And when she was nervous, she got bitchy. It was a horrible defense mechanism, but it was just a part of her personality. Almost genetic. Her dad was the same way.
She’d spent the last few days learning everything she could about submission and domination, topping and bottoming, different kinds of paddling, flogging, restraints, self-restraint, self-spanking. She was overwhelmed and a little confused about how she and Armando were going to work this out. She was starting to understand the submission aspect better for herself, but what about him? She had no clue what he liked. How was she supposed to surrender to him? What if they were horribly mismatched?
She’d read so much, seen so many things, but Armando seemed different from the leather-clad Dominants she’d found online. Or wasn’t he supposed to be wearing a tux or an Armani suit or something? He was throwing her off with his jeans and long sleeve T-shirt.
Armando reached out a hand and pulled her closer. They leaned against the kitchen counter together, side-by-side. “You’re overthinking this,” he said, his low voice buttery smooth.
Nailah swallowed. “Possibly.”
“We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk again. This is about you pushing yourself and exploring your boundaries, but it’s also about taking the steps that are right for you.”
“And what about the right steps for you?”
“I’ll let you know if we’re crossing one of my lines, but for now, this isn’t about me. I know what I like. I know what I want. We’re here to discover more about you.”
“So how do we do this?”
“You told me you spent a lot of time on kinklife and those submissive forums. Tell me what you learned. Tell me what you liked, what you didn’t like.”
“I learned that I know surprisingly little about sex. I know how to have sex, obviously, but I didn’t realize there was
so
much other stuff. Blood play? What the fuck is that all about?”
Armando laughed a bit, and it helped her relax. Maybe talking before they jumped into things was a good idea.
“I look at things like blood play like this— sometimes you’re connected with a deeply sensual side of yourself that craves more and more intense things, or what I feel are kind of nasty things.”
“Oh, yeah.” Nailah groaned a little. “I saw some of that too.”
“The key is mutual consent. If you’re alone, or you and two or more people agree to a particular act, something like blood play, and you’re conscientious about everything that’s happening, you’re attentive, you’re safe, then blood play it up.”
“We’re not doing that.”
Armando laughed again. “I wouldn’t ask you to. But tell me, what
do
you want? What did you like?”
“I liked all the stuff about consent. I think from the outside, everything I’ve heard about BDSM seemed like it was about forcing people to do things or tricking them into thinking they want to.”
“See, that’s called rape.”
“Yeah, I see that now. I read the submissive handbook’s website for hours the other day and she had so many interesting things to say about submission as freedom and choice. It was a little intoxicating. Addictive.”
“It can be, yes.”
“I like the idea of giving up control and I do want to be spanked and paddled. I want that, like now. But first we have to...” Nailah hesitated again. She hated being in unfamiliar waters.
“We have to what?”
“We have to define the scene and negotiate.”
“That’s correct. Good.” Armando’s smile lit up his whole face. Nailah felt her own cheeks heat up. She looked down at their shoes. Her peep-toe Louboutins and his crisp white Adidas shell tops.
“Can you tell me what you want?” Her frustration kept creeping back. “You just know so much more. It’ll help me clarify my own desires.”
She glanced up at him again for confirmation. Something about his deep brown eyes seemed to soothe her. Armando nodded.
“I want you naked the whole time you’re here. I’ll want you on your knees part of the time too. I want to spank you with my bare hand while you blow me. And then, I just want to focus on your ass, spanking you until you can’t take any more. I’ll spank your pussy too. You’ll probably come from that. And then I’m going to want to fuck you. After, I’ll hold you until you fall asleep. I might want to fuck you again in the middle of the night. Definitely in the morning, before you go. Just depends on how tired you are.”
Nailah could barely breathe. He hadn’t even touched her and she could feel her pussy swelling just from his words. Just from the sound of his voice.
“Oh, and I want you to keep those heels on the whole time.”
Nailah swallowed and made a weird noise, like she’d considered choking for a moment. “We can do all that and I’ll keep the shoes on, but there’s something else I want.”
“Tell me.”
“You have to go down on me if I’m going down on you. It’s only fair.”
“And what else?”
Nailah turned and faced Armando.
“I want you to kiss me.” It was something she realized she’d wanted from the moment they met.
“Then I think we have a deal.”
His arms were around her waist in the next moment. Then his warm, soft lips were on hers.
✶
The next morning, Nailah lay awake in Armando’s bed, listening as he tooled around in the kitchen. So much was running through her head. She couldn’t believe how the night had unfolded. Armando had followed through on every single thing he’d said.
They’d moved from the kitchen to the couch where he stripped her completely down while he kissed her and kissed her. She’d never been with a man who knew how to kiss that way. They could have made out all night and she would have been completely satisfied, but they both had other things in mind. Once she was naked, free of everything but her high heels, Armando moved the coffee table then instructed her to kneel on the area rug in front of his couch. It was a little scratchy, but not enough to distract her from the way his muscular thighs parted inches from her face.
He leaned forward, with his legs still spread wide, and they talked about safe words while he massaged her left breast, and then her right.
She could barely think straight when he asked her questions, but Nailah remembered what she’d read about safe words and paying attention to perceived pain vs the actual threat of injury. He lightly pinched her nipples then asked her to pick her safe word. She’d chosen “backsplash”.