No way. They’d never… only in his dreams.
Bryce kept reading.
She inhaled sharply when his hands came to her shoulders and rested there for a moment. From her shoulders they slid higher until he held her by her neck, his fingers lightly pressed into the hollow of her throat. Her entire body came alive at his touch both gentle and threatening. His hands fell away from her and then it was his lips on her neck instead. And then a collar, her leather collar that he always buckled around her neck before taking her-a sign of possession. He owned her. This was proof.
He trailed kisses from her ear to shoulder and back up again. She flinched as his teeth met her earlobe.
“Hands and knees,” he ordered in a whisper. Without hesitation she rolled forward and into position.
His hands traced a path down her back, over her hips, down and up her thighs. His fingers found her labia and he opened the delicate folds wide…wider…She knew he was looking at her and studying the most private parts of her. Her skin flushed, but not with embarrassment. Only with desire.
Two fingers he pushed into her. He went deep until he found the core of her. A small sigh escaped her lips as he pulled his fingers out.
Then all the gentleness disappeared.
With one hand he forced her onto her chest as he yanked her arms behind her back. Cold metal ringed her wrists-handcuffs. He pulled her roughly up to her knees and dragged her to the floor.
“Knees,” he ordered and she went down without hesitation. He opened his pants, took her by the chin, and forced himself into her mouth.
She loved the size of him, the feel of him in her mouth, the slight salt taste of him against her tongue. Slowly he thrust in and out while she sucked and caressed and kissed. Ostensibly she was his property. At moments like this, however, she knew she owned him, too.
His breathing quickened and she readied herself to swallow. Instead he pulled out of her mouth, grabbed her by the shoulder, and dragged her once more to her feet.
“You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” he rasped the words in her ear.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Because you like sucking cock? Or because you like sucking my cock?”
She smiled.
“Yes, Sir.”
He laughed softly and nipped at her neck.
“Good answer.”
She stood still and waited as he undressed. She wanted to watch, wanted to see him but kept her eyes respectfully lowered to the floor. Only her respect for him, for his dominance, his mastery of her eclipsed her desire for him. Everything primal and female in her wanted to lay itself at the feet of everything male and primitive in him.
Bryce coughed and adjusted himself. He took a large drink of his wine and considered turning the A/C up in the house. Suddenly it had gotten incredibly warm in his living room.
With a hand on the back of her neck, he steered her to the closed closet door. As a birthday gift to her, he’d gotten an over-the-door restraint system. Now he had somewhere to tie her up. Made for much easier flogging.
He took off the handcuffs and tossed them aside before forcing her arms over her head. One by one he buckled each of her wrists to the straps on the door. She turned her head and rested her cheek against the cool painted wood. In and out she breathed, slowly…deeply…She let herself fall into a meditative trance that even the first fall of the flogger on her back didn’t interrupt. But the second, much harder lash did. She grunted with every new strike. Her back burned with pain. Her body burned with need. She wanted it to go on forever. She needed it to stop immediately.
He dropped the flogger and pushed his chest into her back. At first she flinched from the pain but the feel of his warm body on her ravaged back sent renewed desire singing through her skin.
When he unstrapped her from the door and pushed her onto the bed, she felt only relief. Finally…at last…
“Stomach,” he ordered and she rolled over and spread her legs. She loved to spread for him, to offer her body to him and let him take her any way he wanted. Straddling her hips, he pushed inside her and started to thrust. Underneath him she lay almost motionless as he used her body for his own pleasure. He clamped his hands over her wrists and pinned her hard against the bed as he moved harder and faster inside her. She tried to ignore how her body responded to his every movement, his every touch…the tip of his cock grazed her g-spot and she gasped into the sheets…his mouth caressed the sensitive center of her back…She wanted to raise her hips and take him even deeper inside her, let him make her come. But this time was for him and him alone. And she loved to give herself over to him to be used solely to satisfy his own needs. His breathing grew louder. His grip on her wrists tightened to the point of pain.
“Bite,” he ordered and she brought her mouth to his forearm and dug her teeth into his skin. With a long shudder he came inside her as her mouth continued to mark the occasion on his arm.
He exhaled and she relaxed back into the sheets. She hadn’t broken the skin but he would have a beautiful bright red bite mark on his arm for the next week. Knowing him, he’d take a picture of it and email it to her tomorrow with a little note that confessed he grew hard every time he looked at the bruise.
With casual strength, he flipped her onto her back. He kissed her breasts, sucked lightly and then harder on her nipples. Gripping her knees, he forced her legs wide-open and pushed two fingers into her again. His fingers moved easily inside her as wet as she was with her arousal and his semen. A third finger joined the other two. The shock of pleasure sent her hips rising off the bed. He turned his hand inside her and pinned her back down against the mattress as he brought his lips to her clitoris. With his hand he rubbed her g-spot, massaged her labia, moved in and out of her with spiraling circles that sent he reeling while his lips and tongue tasted her, explored her, brought her to the edge and left her hovering there…finally he let her fall off the edge but caught her before she landed.
He kissed his way up her stomach, over her ribcage, across her chest, and up to her lips. Their mouths met finally and she tasted herself on his tongue.
Pulling up he gazed down at her and brushed a tendril of hair off her forehead.
“My little girl,” he whispered. “Mine.”
“Yours, Sir…” she sighed and closed her eyes.
Bryce reached the end of the letter and immediately started over reading it from the beginning.
So this was her? This woman who wanted to be owned, used, flogged, tied up, taken, possessed…this was Leigh? This was the woman who hadn’t even slept with him after two months and thirteen dates? This wildly sexual, confident, erotic woman?
I’m different…those were her words at dinner. Bryce shook his head. The woman had told him “no” not because she was a virgin or religious or scared…but because she was kinky and needed to be with someone like her.
You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met. You’re kind and sweet and chivalrous and gentle…
Leigh was kinky and she thought he wasn’t. And that’s why she hadn’t gone to bed with him in all this time. For weeks she’d wanted to tell him what she was but she’d been too embarrassed, too shy. And even now she hadn’t told him. She’d shown him instead. And from the almost painful erection pressing against the fly of his pants, it was clear he’d liked what he saw.
In seconds, Bryce was out of the door and in his car. Racing across town, he made it to her apartment in record time.
He pounded on the door and Leigh answered it with wide, wary eyes.
“Bryce…what is-”
Before she could finish the sentence, he clamped a hand over her mouth, stepped inside the apartment, and kicked the door shut behind him.
Shoving her against the wall, Bryce locked his legs against hers, immobilizing her.
“Don’t scream,” he ordered as he lowered his hand from his mouth. Already she’d begun to breathe heavily. Sliding a hand between their bodies, he reached under her skirt, pushed the fabric of her panties aside, and slid a single finger into her. She burned against his hand, already wet for him. “Still think I’m too nice for you?”
She swallowed.
“No.”
“That was you in the letter.” He moved his finger in and out of her as she began to pant. “But you didn’t name him. Was that me? Or your dream man?”
A slight smile played at the corner of her lips.
“Yes, Sir.”
Bryce brought his mouth to her neck and bit her hard enough to make her whimper. He hoped she had nowhere to go tonight. He didn’t plan to let her go until dawn.
“Good answer.”