Forbidden Fires (Bondage & Breakfast)

chapter Nine



Sweat slid down Colin’s back as Delia’s body clenched around his fingers, but he did what McConnell had told him to do, loath as he was to do it.

Bring her to the brink, but don’t let her go over. Christ, his dick had never been harder than it was right this minute. He was a twisted bastard to get off on having another guy telling him what to do and watching him play with his woman.

And Delia was his woman, no doubt about it. When this was over, they were going to talk. It was obvious they both still had feelings, and God knew the explosive chemistry was still there.

“Oh, please. Don’t stop,” Delia begged as he slipped his fingers free, leaning down to nip at the curve of her hip. “Whichever one of you it is, please don’t stop.”

Holy Christ, she didn’t know who was touching her, and she liked it anyway? If his dick had been hard before, now it was iron.

He looked over at McConnell and frowned. F*ck, he wanted to continue with this unbelievable lesson, but he also wanted to plant his fist in McConnell’s face for even daring to look at Dee while she was like this, and he wasn’t sure which desire was stronger. It wasn’t like the guy was leering at her, he wasn’t, but that didn’t seem to matter.

She made an inarticulate sound, and McConnell barked out another order. “That’s enough for now. You belong to Colin, and he gets to decide whether or not you get to come. Now, pick up the dress and stand up straight.”

Colin took the dress from her left hand and dropped it on the chair behind him, then tightened his grip on her hips, steadying her as she rose. He turned her toward him and was bowled over by the look of pure need on her face. Her cheeks and her chest were bright pink, her nipples hard pebbles in her barely there bra.

His finger was still wet, and he drew it over one taut peak, teasing her until she cried out again, ignoring the fact that McConnell was watching both of them. He peeled her thong down over her hips, sucking in a sharp breath as he got his first full view of her, completely waxed. She stepped out of the panties, and he dipped his fingers back into her moist heat, then dragged them wetly across the smooth skin of her mound.

A sob choked in her throat. “God, Colin. Please.”

“No.” McConnell angled his head as Delia made another frustrated groan. “Time for the next lesson, I think. And it’s time we move this to the sitting room. With Colin’s permission, I’ll teach you different submissive positions you can take at his request. For lack of a better description, you’ll be trying them on for size and giving him a show.”

The sitting room was on the opposite side of the hallway from the dining room, and the dismayed look on her face was priceless as she processed what that meant.

“You want me to walk around like this?” she asked, waving her hands around her mostly naked body. “Through the hall, where anyone coming to the door can see me?”

“Like that,” McConnell said firmly. “There’s no one here but the three of us. You can always put an end to the training. Do you want to use your safe word?”

Dee’s spine snapped straight at the challenge, and Colin had to bite back a laugh as she tossed her hair over her shoulder and stared mutinously at McConnell. “Not on your life.”

He and McConnell both watched her stalk from the room, head held high, hips swaying seductively. This wasn’t Delia playing a role, this was Delia. He’d often been on the receiving end of her attitude, and how many times had she walked away from him, proud and strong? Rather than annoyance, the emotion he’d felt a year ago, arousal tugged low in his belly, an ache that had taken permanent residence there since he’d come back into her life.

McConnell laughed quietly, a small grin on his lips. “I guess it’s true what they say about redheads and tempers. You’re going to have your hands full, Reardon. A strong, willful submissive is a challenge, but she’s also one hell of a gift.” He continued, his voice low. “But I’m going to warn you now, so you’re prepared. I asked Delia a question, and she didn’t use the form of address she was told to use. We’re going to have a discussion on behavior and punishments. Consider this a chance to learn about spanking.”

Colin swallowed hard, but he had to admit he was turned on by the whole thing. He’d lay odds Delia knew what she was doing, was purposely being bratty to see how far she could go, but still. “If you hurt her—”

McConnell interrupted. “I can tell you this. If the spanking hurts, she’s going to love it. I’ve been part of the D/s lifestyle for twenty years, and I’ve trained my share of subs, mentored just as many Doms. Your wife is a natural submissive.”

His words were like a sock to the gut. “She is?”

“I believe so. She defers to you, wants to please you, at least sexually. Watch how she drops her eyes to the floor when she looks to you. Her submissive nature is in her body language. But not every sub is into pain, so if she doesn’t like it, she can use her safe word. And if you don’t like where things are going, you can use yours.” McConnell cocked his head. “You’re a little harder to read. Dominant, but your body language says you don’t want to be here even as your face says this is arousing you. Anyway, it’s your call if you want to keep going or stop. I don’t have a vested interest in you choosing either way. I’m here as a teacher for Delia, and a mentor for you, period.”

The seed of doubt Colin had about McConnell’s guilt grew into a tree. He had a finely tuned bullshit meter, and McConnell came across as totally dominant and definitely into kink, but he saw no signs of antisocial, psychopathic, arson-profile behavior. And thank God for that, because Delia was in a vulnerable position in this dynamic, and they didn’t really have a choice, since learning how to blend in as an active Dom/sub pair was the whole reason they were here. He nodded. “I’m ready.”

She was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, muttering under her breath, and she ignored them as they entered the room. McConnell waved him to a wingback chair in the corner, so he sat, his nerves on red-alert as the man went to a small cabinet and crouched down beside it.

“So far, we’ve only discussed two rules, Delia,” McConnell said, his voice deceptively even, “and you’ve already broken one. Tell me what rule that was.”

Colin sat still, not nearly as calm inside as he hoped he looked on the outside. She stopped her pacing and flicked her eyes to his, dropping them to the floor after a tense second. Son of a bitch, she really did do that. He’d never noticed before.

She bit her lip. “When you ask me a question, I’m supposed to refer to you as Master Gabriel.”

“And did you do that?”

“No, Master Gabriel.”

“What do you think happens to subs who don’t follow the rules?” he asked mildly.

Her eyes widened, and the pulse fluttered wildly in her neck. “They get punished, Master Gabriel?”

He nodded. “They get punished. Go stand by your husband. Tonight, you’re going to see what that means.”

Her husky, indrawn breath sent a bolt of sheer pleasure to Colin’s cock. “Yes, Master Gabriel,” she whispered.

Her walk toward him was uneven, but her eyes were brighter than he’d ever seen them before. She was completely into this, trembling with need, her own fluids slicking her thighs with a wet sheen. She paused beside him and he reached out and squeezed her hand, to reassure her. And himself.

McConnell strode over, holding several things.

“These are restraints,” he said, showing her before he dropped to a knee, fastening one around each ankle. “And this is a spreader bar.”

He attached one end of the bar to a metal loop on the restraint of her left foot. He grasped her other leg, moving it into position. His touch was clinical, but Colin’s fingers clenched and he had to keep himself from shoving McConnell’s hands off her body.

Mine.

She was uncharacteristically quiet as the man worked, but Colin smelled only the sweet scent of her arousal, and no fear.

When the spreader bar was fastened to both restraints, McConnell placed his broad palm against her back and guided her face down across Colin’s lap, angling her so her sexy, naked ass was in the air. “Reach down and put your palms flat against the floor. Don’t take them off the floor, or the punishment will be double.”

She wiggled around on Colin’s lap, brushing against his already swollen cock, teasing it unmercifully. It had been a year since he’d been with her, and this was sheer torture.

“Settle down,” he growled. He put one arm across her back, holding her tightly, pressing his finger into her side, grazing her breast with the tips of his fingers. She squirmed again, and some deeply buried instinct took over. He caressed the curve of her buttocks with his free hand, raised it and brought it down with a sharp thwack on one cheek.

She cried out, and he did it again, this time on the other cheek. She whimpered, but she stopped struggling.

McConnell crouched down next to her head, gently pushing her hair out of the way. He cupped her cheek. “Do you need to use your safe word, Delia?”

She shook her head almost violently. “N-no, Master Gabriel.”

Was she crying? Colin wished he could see her face, but for now he had to trust that McConnell wouldn’t steer him wrong.

“She’s okay, Reardon. You like this, don’t you, Delia? Tell Colin so he knows.”

“Y-yes, Master Gabriel. I like this, Sir.”

Colin stared at the pink tinge on Delia’s ass. Why did that and her bold admission make him even harder?

McConnell continued stroking her cheek. “For first punishments, I usually give a brand new sub five to ten strokes, and I let her choose how many. When Colin asks you, make sure you answer him properly.”

Colin cleared his throat. “How bad a girl were you, Delia? How many strokes should I give you?”

“Ten, Sir,” she whispered, and his pulse started pounding triple time. “Please.”

“Good girl,” McConnell murmured approvingly. “Reardon, alternate sides up through eight and pause, please.”

Colin sucked in some air, tightened his grip on Delia and delivered six more smacks in rapid succession. Delia moaned long and loud at each of them. When he stopped, as McConnell had told him to do, she started begging.

“Oh, God. Colin, please!”

He heard tears in her voice this time, and his heart clenched. “McConnell?”

Still squatting next to her, McConnell wrapped her hair in his fist and tugged her face up to meet his eyes. “Shit, Reardon, she loves this. Her eyes are wild, and yeah, she’s crying, but not because she’s had enough or because it hurts. You want more, don’t you, Delia? Colin’s worried about you. Let him know what you’re feeling.”

“More, please. Please don’t stop, Sir.” She arched her back, pushing her ass up higher, begging. “Please.”

Colin drew his hand back and forth across the red marks he’d left. He’d never imagined he’d be turned on by this, but Christ, he was. She was too, trembling, making small, needy mewling sounds, and his trousers were soaked where her body could no longer contain the proof of her desire.

“You’re doing such a good job, Delia. Keep those hands on the floor until Colin says you can move,” McConnell instructed. “Is she wet, Reardon? Hot and slick inside, pulsing because she needs to come? Or does she need some more warming up before you let her go over? Your woman, your choice. Unless she uses her safe word, you decide where this goes next.”

Colin squeezed his eyes shut and wished he could do the same with his ears. It was damned uncomfortable how the man’s words ratcheted his desire even higher.

With her feet held apart by the spreader bar, her legs were open, wide enough for him to gain easy access to her most intimate parts. Wide enough that instead of one finger, he plunged two inside, and she cried out, throwing her head back. She was so hot she scorched him, so slick he added a third finger, stretching her, reveling in the feel of her body after the long drought without her.

“Oh, please!” She twisted on his lap, trying to get closer, using her body to beg him to f*ck her harder with his hand.

“Listen to me, Delia,” McConnell said, shifting to a position closer to her ass. “These last two are going to sting, because, with Colin’s permission, I’m going to deliver them while he keeps your mind on something else, so I can show him exactly where he should hit you for maximum effect.” He raised an eyebrow in Colin’s direction, waiting.

Unwilling to deny Delia this when she so obviously wanted it, Colin nodded. But when he moved to withdraw his fingers, McConnell halted him.

“No, keep doing what you’re doing. This will make it hotter for her, harder to resist coming. And no coming without permission, Delia,” he ordered. “Remember, Colin decides when you get to have an orgasm.”

“Please, Sir, may I come?” she begged, panting.

“Not yet.” The surge of power from that was mind-boggling, and Colin’s throat tightened with emotion. “Soon.”

McConnell smiled tightly, then raised his hand. Just as Colin plunged his fingers inside Delia’s sheath, McConnell brought his palm down against the lower curve of her backside, brushing against the edge of Colin’s hand.

Delia screamed, and flooded Colin’s fingers with moisture. She clenched around him, on the verge of a violent orgasm.

She started pleading again, pushing up onto her toes, trying to get closer to his fingers and McConnell’s hand, which hovered just above her. Her nails made a scratching noise on the floor as she fought to follow the rules.

“One more, love,” Colin said, slowing the pace of his hand. He stroked a finger across her anus, and she shuddered.

Delia’s breath rasped in and out, her back heaving. She was ready. He nodded at McConnell, who nodded back. Once again, the man waited until Colin had plunged his fingers deep inside Delia’s body before spanking her again in the same place, so loud the smack echoed in the room.

“Come for me, Delia,” Colin said.

She exploded, screaming his name, twisting, trying to bring her legs together, but the spreader bar prevented that, making her work that much harder for her orgasm. Her breath rasped in and out, and his heart thudded in response. Jesus, he’d never seen anything like her release, as if it was torn from her very soul.

When she’d calmed somewhat, McConnell removed the ankle restraints. Colin pulled Delia into his lap, holding her close. She looked spaced-out, off in some weird sort of la-la land. He brushed her hair from her sweat-slicked face and placed a soft kiss against her lips.

“She’ll be out of it for a few minutes,” McConnell murmured. His eyes held satisfaction and a fair share of mirth. “She took to the lesson quite well. Some scenes are long and you learn to delay your own gratification. As her Dom, you decide whether you want to finish things now or hold off longer. This was intense for both of you, so you may want to connect now, but either way, I’ll leave you two alone for a while to figure out what works for you. There’s a clean robe hanging on the inside of the closet door, in case you don’t want Delia getting fully dressed again. Come find me when you’re ready for your next lesson. I’ll be in my office, at the front of the house.”

He paused for a moment, then smiled faintly. “I said this already tonight, but you’re a lucky guy, Reardon.” He left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.





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