chapter Five
“Damn, princess. That was f*cking incredible.”
He idly stroked her back through her bound arms. His skin smelled of salt and musk under her cheek. She flicked out a tongue to taste him, just there in that soft hollow of his neck. He shuddered under her and turned his head obligingly to give her better access. She followed the corded line of his neck, tasting and kissing as far as she could reach. Then she had to wriggle up a little, scraping her nipples across his chest and moving him inside her when she stretched up.
He hissed and pressed a hand on the flat plane above her tailbone, holding her in place. “Not yet.”
She levered herself up, coincidentally seating herself on him more tightly and frowned at him. “But…”
He grinned. “Round one. I’ve got at least one more in me to feed that hungry p-ssy of yours.” He flexed inside her, already hardening again. “See?”
Reaching behind her, he unclasped the bra and tossed it aside, then cupped her breasts in his big hands, flicking her nipples with his thumbs so she moaned. “Your skin is all scraped up, princess. I’m afraid I gave you a little beard burn.” He ducked his head, laving the tender skin with his soft tongue. Her impaled sex heated, surging with more moisture.
“Does it hurt?”
“A little,” she gasped.
“Just enough to feel exciting?” He tightened his grip on her breasts and she writhed a little, her internal muscles clenching on his cock.
“Maybe.”
“Who knew my pristine, delicate landlady liked a little pain with her pleasure,” he mused, kneading her breasts and nipping lightly at her nipples. “Did you know?”
“No,” she answered on a breath. “No one ever touched me like you do.”
“I live to serve, princess.” He slid a hand between their joined bodies and pinched her * between his fingers. With his other hand rolled into the length of her hair, he pulled with steady pressure so she arched her back, while he held her in place so he could torment her nipples.
“Oh, Steel,” she moaned, the pressure building. “Please untie me.”
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he told her in a low, coarse voice. “I’m going to diddle you like this and you’re going to come for me while I watch. Then you can try to convince me to untie you.”
“You keep making up new rules,” she gasped out, thrashing under his clever tongue and fingers.
“All the better to gobble you up, my sweet.” And like the big bad wolf, he tore into her, with sharp little bites to her breasts and relentless strumming of her *. She came apart in his hands—as if there’d been any question—while he hummed his enjoyment, encouraging her with rough words and his hungry gaze.
As the convulsions rocking her ramped down, Steel grasped her skull in both hands, bringing her face down for another long, lingering kiss of impossible sweetness. His stubble chafed her already scraped lips, but she didn’t care, feeding on his mouth, too, like a starving woman.
At last she pulled away, needing a deep breath, leaning her forehead against his. She became aware that her thighs were aching from their spread position, and a fold of his jeans was caught under her bottom, digging into the skin.
“I need to stand up,” she whispered.
“Okay.” He sounded perfectly agreeable.
“And I’d like for you to untie me.”
“Do you have a proposal?”
She frowned at him. “I’ve already given you everything. I don’t know what else I can offer.”
“Well, that’s not even close to true.” He grinned at her. “But I’ll make allowances for the moment. What will you do with your hands if I untie them?”
He slipped his hands under her arms and lifted her off of him, their sighs intermingling as he slid out of her. Then he sat her in the chair and shucked off his jeans, kicking them to the side. He strolled off to the little washroom, giving her a magnificent view of his backside as he walked. She squirmed a little on the chair, aware of the moisture still pooling beneath her and feeling vulnerable and a little embarrassed now that the rush of lust was subsiding.
Steel came back with a damp cloth and held it up for her. “Want me to clean you up?”
“No. I’ll do it. And I need to visit the ladies’.”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’ll need your hands for that.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
She squirmed. “I don’t know what to offer you.”
“Use your imagination.”
“Um. Hand…job?” The offer came out sounding weak, but she couldn’t think of sexier wording.
He cocked his head, mock-considering it. “It doesn’t sound all that enticing, the way you put it.”
She groaned in exasperation. “Then what does?”
“Shall I just pick something?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “You choose.”
“Okay.” He sounded entirely too pleased and the glint in his eye made her think she’d let herself in for more trouble than she’d bargained for. Still, the relief in her shoulders was worth it when he helped her up and untied her hands.
She bent and slipped off the heels, too, gratefully standing flat-footed. Turning around, she looked pretty much straight at Steel’s naked chest, abruptly aware again of his greater size. Feeling shy, she didn’t want to look up at him.
He took her hands, though, lacing his fingers with hers, and raised them up between them. He brushed light kisses over her knuckles. “Althea?”
Hesitant, she looked up at him. His brown eyes were warm with concern. “Are you all right?” He seemed to want to ask more, but he stopped with that.
“Just a little…rattled, I think.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “I need a minute, okay?”
He nodded and let her go. “Want a beer? I have some in the cooler.”
She laughed a little and scooped up her dress, shrugging into it. Here they stood, naked, after the most intense sexual encounter she’d ever had, and they were going to kick back with a cold brew? “No thank you. I’m not really a beer girl.”
“You mind if I have one?”
“No, why would I?”
He jerked a shoulder in a half shrug. “Just checking.” He looked kind of uncomfortable, almost sheepish, and held out the cloth to her again.
She went into the washroom, locking the door behind her. The little room was very minimal, with the toilet, a pedestal sink and a simple mirror. She should get him a few shelves, maybe an étagère for his things. Screwing up her courage, she examined her reflection. Her lips were swollen and reddened, with scrapes marring her white cheeks. Her hair stood out in wild disarray, the fine strands snarled from Steel’s hands. She tried finger-combing it, to no avail. If she was going to be down here with him again, she’d need a hairbrush and other things to fix up with.
The thought brought her up short. Would she be down here again? How often? She had no idea how long a kinky affair like this lasted.
Or, clearly, how to behave after being so willingly ravished.
Her breasts showed scrapes and some bruises too. They ached, as did her vagina, from such thorough, nearly brutal use. Her blue eyes stared back at her, startled at how she looked and felt. Such were the wages of an impulse decision.
She peed, hissing at the sting of it on her swollen *. She set to giving herself a sponge bath, wiping her tender tissues carefully, then buttoning up her dress. In some ways, it felt like she’d lost her virginity again. It had been a loss of innocence, being with a man like Steel. She liked that he’d taken what he wanted from her. She even liked the parts of it that’d hurt. It had been exhilarating, shocking and…delicious.
More. She definitely wanted more.
She emerged to find Steel sitting on the wooden stool she’d posed on, drinking beer from a sweaty can. He’d put his jeans back on but wore no shirt. The look he gave her was wary, uncertain still.
Something had shifted between them and she wasn’t sure how to get it back.
“Maybe I will have a beer,” she told him.
Raising an eyebrow at her, he went over to a red-and-white cooler in the corner and rummaged in the ice inside. He brought her back a can of Dixie. She popped the tab and drank its cold sparkle gratefully.
Steel propped himself on the stool, seeming like he was waiting for a cue from her. “So now what?” he asked her.
“Why are you asking me?” she returned.
“I dunno. You seem like maybe you regret it. Maybe you got what you wanted and you’re done with me now.” He shrugged and chugged his beer, his hard throat working as he swallowed. She felt as though she’d caught a glimpse of something, a hint of hurt inside the tough guy. What did she really know about him? Nothing at all. Except that he made her feel things she’d never imagined, had never known to even fantasize about.
“I want…” She swallowed and took a deep, steadying breath. “You said the rule was, when I’m down here with you, I have to do what you say.”
“Yeah? You know, Althea, we don’t—”
“No. I want that.”
He was caught short, a look of surprise morphing into that wicked grin she was growing to love. “You do?”
“Yes.” She said it firmly, though her stomach butterflied. “I don’t want you to ask me. I want you to make me. Whatever you want. I…I liked that.”
“Oh, princess. You know how to grab a guy by the balls.” He studied her. “Whatever I want, huh?”
“Yes.”
“I can think of a lot of stuff.”
A thrill ran through her, putting her off balance again. Ah yes—this was how it should be. She drank from the beer. Swallowed. “Okay.”
“You sure about this?”
“I think so. And people have…” She felt silly saying it, but there it was. “Safe words, right? That’s how I tell you if it’s too much.”
“That’s right. What do you want it to be?”
“No.” She shook her head, stubborn. “You tell me.”
He laughed. Delighted. Turned on. “Platinum. Gleaming and pure, like you, princess.”
“I’m not so pure.”
His smile faded into something feral. “You sure won’t be by the time I’m done with you.”
The thought made her shiver. Dirty girl. “So, what now?”
“To start, lose the dress.”
With trembling fingers, she started to obey, then glanced at him coyly. “Make me.”
His eyes flared and he pitched the empty beer can away with a stark rattle that made her jump. He stalked toward her, took her beer and chugged the rest, then pitched it away also. Grasping the neckline, he fisted the fabric in both hands. Paused. Looked at her. She returned his gaze evenly. Waiting for him to do it.
With a snarl he ripped the dress down the front, the little pearl buttons flying. She flinched, but she was already naked with his hands roving all over her, lifting her up and delving into her sex while his mouth raced over her skin.
She lost herself in it, wanted to be consumed by him. No thinking, only feeling.
He set her on her feet and turned her around, bending her over the wooden stool with a firm hand on her lower back. Shivering, she complied.
“Spread your legs,” Steel growled. A sharp spank stung her bottom and she gasped at the shock of it. “Wider.”
She stretched as wide as she could, feeling deliciously slutty. No doubt he could see everything. If anything, the arousal shook her harder than before. As if each orgasm just built on the next.
“Grasp the lowest rung of the stool. You might have to go up on tiptoes.”
She did. By rising on her toes, she could stretch her arms to reach the lowest rung. The position put her bottom and spread sex perilously high in the air. He ran his hands over her sensitive skin and she sobbed out a breath.
“None of your lovers has ever spanked you.” It wasn’t a question. Of course no one had.
“No.” She breathed into the answer, nearly unable to imagine it. Her heart pounded against her ribs.
“This would be a very good position for a spanking, don’t you think, princess? I could tie you to the stool like this and use a belt or a paddle. Of course, dangling you over my lap and spanking you with my hand has its pleasures too. Which do you think you’d like better?” He smacked her cheek, a light sting. “Answer me.”
“I don’t know.” She sobbed it out, deeply shaken. “I don’t think I could bear any of it.”
“No?” He crooned the word, gentle, and his fingers slid into her slick folds, lightning zinging through her strained muscles. Her hips moved of their own accord and he grasped one side with a wet hand and plunged two fingers into her while she cried out. “But you’re so very, very hot at the idea, sweet Althea. Would we tell your friends, do you think, about what you let me do to you? That you let that low-life spank your pretty ass while you cry out for him to f*ck you?”
“Oh, no,” she moaned at the thought, even as she writhed eagerly under his pumping fingers.
He hooked them deep inside, then pushed a thumb into the ring of her anus. She froze, shuddering hard with such heightened emotion she couldn’t define it.
“How about here? You have such a tight ass.” He worked the thumb in deeper and she groaned at the pleasure/pain, the shame. “Has anyone ever played with it, just a little bit?”
“No.” She held onto the rung for dear life, blood pounding in her head. Would she use her safe word? Not just yet. “Isn’t it…dirty?”
He chuckled. “Yes. But that’s real people—full of piss and shit and blood. Alive. Animal.” He pushed in deeper, the violation electrifying, and pressed from inside her vagina with his fingers, rocking her hips with the movement. She felt like a puppet in his hands, and his mercy. She wanted him to take everything.
“I’m going to have you here.” The hand that had been holding her hip smoothed up her spine. “Not today. But I’m going to open you up, Althea. We’re going to stretch every boundary you have and, when you’re ready for me, I’m going to ram that tight ass of yours until you don’t recognize yourself.”
She already didn’t.
“Stay just like that.”
She waited, tension riding her as his hand slid out of her, leaving her even more aching and open than before. From upside down, she watched him kick off his jeans and heard the condom crinkle. Then he held her hips in his hands and pressed against her vulva, just barely pressing inside, but already widening her.
“Feel that, princess? Imagine when it’s that tight little ass of yours being spread.” He pushed deeper and she whimpered at the pressure. Again he pressed his thumb into her back entrance and the dual intrusion undid her. Sobbing out his name, she began to climax, in a long wrenching spiral. He plunged into her, thrusting so hard she would have fallen if he hadn’t kept a bruising grip on her hips.
The orgasm seemed to go forever, pounding through in an endless rhythm until he shouted out, fingers digging into her hips, grinding her pelvis into the edge of the stool. The black and red waves overtook her and, swamped, she lost herself in it.