Unbound Surrender (5 page)

She should have known he’d select
this
.

Jessica moistened her lips. It was a stall tactic, and she knew Stephen, all seeing, would recognise it for exactly that.

Her gaze was fixed on the hood and blindfold dangling from his fingers.

After last night, how could she be expected to think straight? Especially when he’d chosen the one thing he knew was the biggest threat to her.

She’d been willing to do almost anything with Stephen, bondage, discipline, punishment, but she’d always drawn a line at sensory deprivation. She might close her eyes, but she always wanted the option of opening them if she were frightened. Odd as it seemed, she always wanted to know what was coming.

And now, he was going to deny her that.

“It’s up to you whether or not you meant it.”

“I did.”

“In that case,” he said, “walk over to the spanking horse.”

He’d bought the bench specifically for her.

It was an amazing contraption, covered in red leather. He could secure her, and had, in dozens of different positions. In his favourite position, she’d knelt on the horse then leant forward. The top was narrow, and because it had places for her knees, if she stretched out her arms, her breasts hung down loosely and her rear was exposed and vulnerable.

She knew she could refuse, and her pounding heart would stop racing if she did. But she’d come back for a reason, and this time, she wouldn’t let fear get the best of her.

Slowly, her bare feet feeling as if they were filled with lead, she moved towards the horse.

She climbed up on it and stretched out across it, reaching for the tethers at the far end. She drew in a breath and her whole body shook as she exhaled.

He left her there for long minutes. He’d often done that in the past, realising submission was more about what went on inside her head than what he did to her body.

She tried not to think about the way the hood would feel, especially when he added the blindfold.

It was just one more way he kept her off balance. He’d had her brain tied in knots since she walked through his door yesterday.

Last night, after he’d finally relented and fucked her, giving her an orgasm that made her cry out, she’d fully expected to be banished to the floor. Instead, he’d kissed her tenderly, nearly undoing her emotionally.

 
Sleeping in his bed, tucked against him, one of his hands possessively pressed against her stomach so she couldn’t escape, implied an intimacy she wasn’t sure what to do with.

If he’d secured her to the foot of his bed, she’d have been every bit as unable to bolt and she would have understood the rules better.

As it was, every one of his actions confused her.

He was still behaving like a Dom, but his actions said so much more.

Her own reactions confused her even more. Last night, she’d come close to calling him her Master. But she’d stopped short. He’d stopped being in control of her when she’d ripped off her collar. Or at least that’s what she’d always thought.

Was it possible her collar was more symbolic than anything? That he didn’t need to have leather around her neck to master her completely? And was that the real reason all her other relationships had failed?

Only one man could be her master?

“Jessica?”

This morning, he was back in control. There was nothing tender or accessible about him. That should make things easier, but it didn’t.

“Sir?”

“You can stop this at any time.”

She could, but she’d do everything possible not to, no matter how scared she was.

In the mirror in front of them, she watched his actions. He’d placed the hood and blindfold on a table and he removed a pair of unchained clover clamps from a hook in the wall.

He came over to her. Their gazes were locked in the mirror. This man, her Dom, was devastating. Today he wore black slacks and a formfitting black T-shirt. He kept himself fit with a strict daily schedule filled with exercise. Obviously he hadn’t started slacking in the past couple of years.

He crouched next to her and played with her right breast, plumping it, squeezing it.

“I love that,” she said.

He increased the intensity, and she felt herself grow moist. He’d always known what she craved.

He tweaked her nipple, and when it was hard, he pinched it.

She moaned slightly. The pain was exquisite. She had always known she enjoyed having her nipples played with, but it wasn’t until she was with Stephen that she realised how much she liked it when the sensation was really intense. Several times, he’d brought her to orgasm, just by manipulating her nipples.

Before she was fully prepared for it, he attached the clover clamp.

She hissed, but she didn’t break position, and she didn’t protest.

He plumped her breast again and her eyes momentarily lost the ability to focus. No other man, before him or since him, was able to make her feel the things he did.

He tugged on the clamp, distending her nipple. Silently she begged him to clamp her other nipple. The pain, focused in one spot, was becoming unbearable.

“Lovely,” he said.

He moved to the other side and repeated the process, plumping her breast before teasing her nipple into response. When he affixed the clamp, she nearly came.

He moved to stand behind her.

In the mirror, she saw him reach for her breasts. He squeezed them, then drew each thumb and forefinger down her clamps, tugging on them. “Beautiful tits, Jessica.”

With him, she felt beautiful, no holding back, no insecurities.

He feathered his touch down her spine. She could imagine purring like a kitten. God she’d missed this, missed him. Being on the bench, submitting despite her fear, felt natural.

“Are you doing okay?”

In the mirror, his eyes showed his pleasure. That’s all she ever needed. “Yes.”

He moved to the front of the bench to secure her wrists. “Still all right?”

She pulled against them, testing the fit. She wasn’t going anywhere, but they weren’t too tight. Her heartbeat was thready, but she was not panicking. “Yes, Sir.”

“Tell me your safe word.”

It had been so long, she had to dredge it from memory. “Silver.”

“I think it’s a legend that silver can stop a werewolf.”

She laughed. He always said that. And neither of them ever pointed out that werewolves were a fantasy, too. She’d chosen the word because silver could stop a werewolf, and if it could stop the supernatural, surely it could stop him, too.

He crouched in front of her to meet her gaze. “Now tell me why you left.”

Her mouth dried. Her mind was already scrambled from last night and from the sight of the hood and blindfold in her peripheral vision. Now he wanted access to her innermost thoughts?

“There were no irreconcilable differences, Jessica. Nothing that couldn’t have been sorted out if you’d come to me. There was no infidelity.”

He dug his hand into her hair, not painfully, but with force and lifted her head slightly so she couldn’t hide. “I was completely faithful.”

His grip loosened.

“So, why?”

“I was scared. I came to love you too deeply.” She swallowed. “I was afraid I would lose myself as your submissive. I’d get in deeper and deeper.”

“And now?”

“I’ve realised that it wasn’t you I held back from. I held back from everyone I’ve ever been involved with. But mostly, I held back from myself. By holding back, I could protect myself.” She paused before admitting, “The truth is, you can’t protect yourself by holding back. You’re either committed or you’re not. If you’re committed and you hold back, you cause damage to the relationship, to yourself. Running away…” She breathed in, aware of the sensation in her breasts, and now, in her heart as well. “Running away causes more pain than fighting through your fear.”

He hadn’t interrupted. He’d stayed still, meeting her eyes, letting her stumble through her admission. Had he always been this thoughtful? Had she just been too scared to see the depth of the man she’d fallen in love with? What would have happened if she’d come back? If he’d come after her as she’d hoped, as she’d prayed? What would have happened if she’d had the courage to talk to him about her insecurities?

“Fighting through your fear… Is that why you’re really here?”

She hadn’t thought of it that way.

“Jessica?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

He nodded. He crossed the room to a set of drawers. He pulled open one and took out a red scrap of fabric.

He returned to her, crouching at the front of the horse once again to meet her eyes. “I’m going to hood you.”

Every muscle in her body bunched.

“And I will blindfold you. And yes, I know how much this will cost you.”

She nodded.

“You’ll also be gagged.”

That also crossed a boundary. She’d thought of gags as humiliating, with the way you couldn’t express yourself and the way she’d seen pictures of subs drooling.

“You can still safe word out.”

She shook her head. “But I would like to suck your cock first.”

He arched his brows.

It wasn’t often she shocked Stephen Duvall, and she liked the reaction.

“Who’s the sub?”

“I am. Sir.”

“Who’s the Dom?”

“You are, Sir.” Her voice sounded a bit cheeky, even to her.

“And shouldn’t that be my suggestion, my order?”

“I’m sure it would have been if you’d have thought of it. Sir.”

“You’re out of line, wench.”

“Perhaps you should put your cock in my mouth to shut me up.”

“Maybe I should just gag you and spank you for your impudence.”

“Master’s choice.”

They both froze. Her breath threatened to choke her. There. She’d admitted it. He was her master. Whether she wanted it or not, he was. It was absolute, and she no longer questioned it.

Without another word, he unfastened the button on his trousers and lowered the zipper.

Heaven help her, he still wore no underpants. He was all male, already rigid. As he moved closer, she smelled the scent of his masculine musk.

Her pussy, which had been dry, began to moisten again. Having him so near sexually aroused her.

She licked a drop of pre-ejaculate from his cockhead, and she pressed her tongue against that sensitive spot near the slit.

He groaned, cupping the back of her head.

He began to piston in and out of her mouth. Greedily she accepted him. Their being joined felt so natural.

He filled her mouth, slid into her throat. Her eyes watered slightly at the depth of his penetration, but she didn’t try to pull back. She wanted to take everything he offered.

She loved having his cock in her mouth. And she was glad to be here, with him. That Stephen might refuse to see her had always been a possibility and she was grateful he hadn’t.

She knew his orgasm was close. His cock was even harder, and his breathing had changed.

But before he could spill down her throat, he pulled back.

“Mas-
ter
,” she protested. He’d always been tightly controlled, denying as many of his own orgasms as he did hers. It would be sweeter when he took her, and she knew he would.

“Are you ready to be gagged?”

How could he change directions so effortlessly when she was swimming in a sensual haze?

He fastened his pants again. “Jessica?”

She wasn’t. But then again she doubted she ever would be. “Yes.”

“In that case, hold onto this.” He pressed the piece of cloth in her hand. “Dropping that will be the equivalent of a safe word. Do not use it lightly.”

He left her for a minute and returned holding a gag. It was silicone, shaped like a baby’s pacifier.

Without being instructed, she opened her mouth. The light of approval in his midnight-dark eyes made her surrender all that much sweeter.

He inserted the gag and pushed on it slightly to make sure it fit properly.

He buckled it around the back of her head, taking care to keep her hair out of the way. She didn’t have the violent reaction she expected. It wasn’t as uncomfortable as she’d feared, and the sensation wasn’t at all demoralising. She could see that, beneath his trousers, his cock was still erect. Having her gagged and bound pleased him. That liberated her from any feeling of humiliation. It wasn’t about her feelings, it was about what he wanted.

Her heart threatened to explode when he stood to fetch the hood.

The gag was one thing, the hood another.

“If you really can’t take it, drop the cloth,” he told her.

She shook her head. The smile he gave her made almost any sacrifice worthwhile.

He drew the hood over her head and moved it about until it was properly positioned. It was hot beneath the hood, and the leather even dimmed the household noises, making her pulse seem even louder.