Breaking Skye (2 page)

Bent over a man’s lap, his hand coming down hard on her naked flesh, bringing pleasure along with the stinging current. Being bound in rope, in chain. Being made to kneel.
Made
to.

She moaned under her breath.

God, she was really going to do this!

He leaned in even closer, until she felt the warmth of his coffee-scented breath on her cheek. “Say you want to, Skye.”

Some part of her was still hesitant. “How much time are we talking about?”

“As long as it takes.”

She licked her lips, tasted the faint peppermint of her lip gloss. “I understand your point about needing more time. I’m just not sure…”

“Not sure you can do it?” he finished for her.

“Yes.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

He reached out and tilted her chin in his hand, forcing her to meet his gaze. His eyes were too intense. Could he feel her shaking? If he hadn’t held her there she would have looked away.

“Tell me you want to do this, Skye. Unless you don’t, of course. But if you do, say it now.”

That velvet voice again, swarming over her like a soft blanket. And those eyes…

She swallowed once more, her mind fighting the sharp stab of need in her body.

Her body was winning.

“Yes. I want to do this.”

CHAPTER TWO

He’d thought for a moment she might change her mind. He was surprised by how much didn’t want her to.

She was a beauty. Those golden brown eyes a few shades lighter than her hair. Eyes like a doe’s, the pupils enormous with nerves. Too gorgeous, this woman. And intelligent. Thoughtful. That always killed him. But he was here to do a job. A job he enjoyed, but a job nonetheless, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t something he was paid for. Well, in nothing more than a deep satisfaction, mental as well as physical.

“We’ll need to talk about a few things first,” he told her.

She nodded. “Of course.”

He could see from the faint movement of her long, brown hair that she was trembling. The sadist in him loved it. And her hair…like a curtain of silk. Beautiful. He’d love to get his hands on it.
In
it. Pull it hard.

“Let’s start with your name. Skye…?”

“Just Skye is fine.”

Her tongue darted out, a flash of pink against the dusky rose of her plush, glossed lips, distracting him. Utterly kissable lips. But he was losing focus.

“We need to trust each other here,” he told her.

She took in a deep breath, exhaled, played with her teacup. “It’s Ballard. But it’s my father’s name. I don’t use it unless I have to.”

“You can tell me why later. You mentioned in your emails that you teach art at the city college, but you’ve also said you’re an artist, which isn’t always necessarily the same thing, in my mind. What medium?”

He saw her nostrils dilate the tiniest bit, thrown by his rapid change in conversation—something he’d done on purpose.

“It changes. Right now I love pen and ink, the starkness of it.  And charcoal. I haven’t been using any color lately, just exploring lines, shapes, contrast.” She paused, looking uncertain. “I’m sorry. That was probably more than you wanted to know.”

“On the contrary. I do want to know. Everything. And I love the way your eyes light up talking about it. I love seeing the passion on your face.”

She blushed, a pink sheen rising in her high, curved cheeks. He reached for her hand again and watched the blush deepen. He pulled it toward him, turning it over to inspect the tattoo curling around her left wrist: a small, sinuous piece done in a dark, tribal style. He looked up at her, surprised, letting her hand go. “A phoenix?”

“Yes. It represents rebirth.”

“I know. I have one, too.”

“A tattoo?”

He nodded. “A phoenix.”

A small laugh from her. “What a strange coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences. I’ll show it to you eventually.”

“Will you?”

“Absolutely.”

She nodded her head, trying to appear calm, but her nervousness radiated off her in waves as she pulled her hand back, along with a subtle, smoky scent that made his cock harden. That was all right, she could be nervous. She should be, if she had any idea what he planned to do to her.  An image of her tied naked to his bed flashed in his head and his cock sprang to life.

Yes, have to get her there.

What had gotten into him? He’d better get back on track.

“You’ve seen my references,” he said. “I’ve read the list of desires you e-mailed to me, things you’d like to try. The things you’re interested in—bondage, spanking, floggers—all of these things interest me, as well. We’ll be a good match. I’m going to send you a very thorough questionnaire. You may have seen some of them online—they’re used all the time by those of us in the BDSM community. There are a few things on there you probably hadn’t thought about. I want you to think about them, every one. To really think about how you feel about it now, how you might feel about it in the future. Don’t just give an off-the-cuff answer, alright?”

“Yes, sure.”

She was visibly shaking now. But he understood it was as much from excitement as from fear. He could see it in the way her pupils had widened as soon as he’d mentioned the kink, the way her breath had sped up.

Not that he minded if she was a little afraid. That only made it more exciting. Domination and submission, sadomasochism, were all about an energy exchange, after all. He fed off her energy. Pleasure, fright, it was all the same at that level. And this woman, as controlled as she tried to be, unconsciously wore her emotions on her sleeve.

To play her would be fantastic. He couldn’t wait to begin.

She could always change her mind. That was part of the power exchange, why it was an
exchange
and not simply a power trip for the Dom—the submissive’s ability to say no, to call an end to a scene. To say no before it even started, if that’s what they truly wanted. He never forgot that. But he
wanted
this woman in a way that shook him.

He didn’t want her to change her mind, damn it.

“I’ll e-mail you as soon as I get home with the questionnaire,” he went on. “There will be some other things, instructions. Let’s talk a little now about how I do things. Once we negotiate our terms I will absolutely stick to them. You need to trust that in order for this to work. Because once you’re in my hands you’re turning everything over to me. With the exception that, because of what we’ve negotiated, and because of the safe words, you always ultimately have control over what happens to you. From our e-mail conversations, I gather you’re not looking for the kind of total submission involved in a Master/slave scenario, is that right?”

She shook her head. “No, that’s not for me. I think I’m more of a ‘bottom’ than a true submissive, if I understand the things I’ve read correctly. It’s more the sensation, my mind getting to a certain space…I want to go to that edge without…crossing over it. Does that make sense?”

He nodded. “Kink is different for each of us. That’s why these negotiations are so crucial. I train each submissive to do to perfection whatever it is that serves their particular need. That’s what it’s about for me.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it that way before.” She paused a moment. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What fulfills your needs, Adam?”

Christ, her eyes were beautiful. Gleaming. He felt another sharp tug of desire in his groin.

“Doing wicked things to beautiful girls like you.” He grinned and she batted her lashes, her cheeks flaming. “There are things I’m not into, like anyone else. I’m not into foot worship, for instance. Or the idea of owning someone, making them sleep on the floor at the foot of my bed. Making them clean my floor, be my footstool. Personally, I’m against verbal humiliation. I won’t work with a girl who feels a need for that.  Almost everything else is negotiable. Except that I have one unbreakable rule—I never sleep with a woman I’m training.”

Her pupils widened the tiniest bit. “Never?”

He grinned at her. “Are you saying you’d want me to, Skye?”

“I…it just seems odd that you’d do these things without being…titillated.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that.” He leaned into her again, took her wrist in his hand once more, felt her pulse racing beneath her skin. Felt the answering pulse-beat in his cock. He ignored it.  “But I am very disciplined. How can I expect you to be if I can’t control my own urges?”

She nodded. ‘Yes, I guess that makes sense. But there will be…”

“Sexual contact? Absolutely, if you agree to it. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I left you hanging, would I?”

Her cheeks went scarlet. He loved to see it. Loved to see her flustered.

“What I am interested in, Skye,” he went on, “is eliciting a certain response from those I play with. The mind-fuck. And there is always mind-fuck, at some level. Like right now.” He watched her blush deepen even more. “But it’s always a bonus when the woman I’m training wants—needs—the things I enjoy the most. Icing on the cake of kink. I want you to experience pleasure, of course. And pain. I want to take you into subspace. Get you to a place where you question your boundaries—that’s exciting for me.”

“I’m not sure I want to question my boundaries,” she said, her voice quiet, quavering.

“Really? Isn’t that what you’re doing already by being here, talking with me about this?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t know…maybe. Yes, I guess that’s true. But that’s not what I meant.”

“You don’t want me to push you, is that it?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s part of it, Skye. If I don’t push you, you’ll never be forced to answer certain questions about yourself. Like, how much can you take?”

“Oh…”

Her cheeks were really burning now. He loved to see that he’d thrown her, made that process of questioning herself begin already, here in the quiet café.

He lifted her hand and brushed his lips across her knuckles, felt her answering shiver. He said very quietly, “I intend to push you, Skye. To test those limits. That’s where the real journey begins. So, tell me again. Are you still in? Do you still want this?”

She blinked a few times, then focused her big brown eyes on him. “Yes. I’m in. I want this.”

Pleasure swarmed his veins. “Excellent. Do you know about safe words?”

She nodded. “I’m to use ‘yellow’ if I want to slow down a scene, if I can’t handle something you’re doing, and ‘red’ if I need to stop completely. That’s what I’ve read, mostly.”

“Perfect. Remember your safe words. Don’t be embarrassed to use them. That’s the only thing you’re responsible for during play. I’ll be responsible for everything else.
Everything
. You will be in my hands. I will absolutely respect the boundaries we’ve negotiated. You’ll have to trust me in that, to know with utter certainty that I will, so you’re able to let go. Do you understand?”

She swallowed—he could see her throat working for a moment before she spoke. “Yes. I understand.” She paused. “And we’re to…play in private? Or at one of those clubs?”

“I do frequent some of the clubs. Does that interest you? There’s a place called The Ring. It’s pretty wild—it’s part of a dance club. Great for those with an exhibitionistic streak. And because it’s also a dance club it often seems easier for someone doing this for the first time. There’s no nudity there, for instance. But there is the crush of a few hundred people watching. Too intense for some. My friend Shaye works there. He can get me in whenever I ask. Shall I ask?”

He could see from her expression—brown eyes wide, the edge of her teeth sinking into her lush lower lip—that her answer would be ‘no’. But he had to offer her the option anyway. Even if what he really wanted was to have her alone in his house, just the two of them and a well-made paddle, a pair of leather handcuffs.

His bed.

No.

He shifted in his chair, his cock aching for her.

She shook her head. “I…I’m not sure that would work for me. It’s all too new. I’ve seen your references, done the background check on you that you asked me to do. I’d planned to give your information to my cousin before we went anywhere.  I feel safe enough with you. And…I think I’ll need the sense of privacy, no distractions.”

He smiled at her. “Then I’ll send you my address. Come Friday night.”

She paused before nodding her head, her cheeks pinking, looking for a moment as though she were going to argue. But in the end she didn’t question that he’d phrased it as a command. A momentary struggle. Enough that he could see she would fight yielding to him. But he expected that from a woman like her. Strong. Inexperienced. Unaware of the extent of her own desires.

He had no doubt he could handle her. He’d trained girls like this before, those who had to hang on so tightly to control, for whatever reason, that letting it go was the ultimate relief. He loved nothing more than to break past that wall of reserve.

The idea of breaking this particular girl, this beautiful woman whose very scent made him want to taste her skin, would be pure pleasure. Hers. His.

Breaking Skye. He knew he would think of nothing else all week.

CHAPTER THREE

Skye let herself into her third-floor apartment, her hands still shaking as she pulled off her wool coat. She hadn’t been able to calm down since she’d left the café and her conversation with Adam Dunne.

Had it really even happened? It all felt dream-like to her now. Too good to be true. Too frightening. But this was exactly what she’d wanted, wasn’t it?

She’d wanted an experiment. An experience. To experience just once the pleasure-pain principle she’d fantasized about for so long. The idea of submitting— submitting more to the sensation than anything else—even if only in the moment, had been thrilling for as long as she could remember having sexual desires. But she hadn’t expected to find a man—a Dominant—she’d be so unbearably attracted to. That complicated things.

Adam complicated things.

He was graceful in the way only an utterly self-confident man could be, which was the sexiest thing about him. Except for his mouth, maybe—lush and begging to be kissed, except she understood this man had never begged for anything in his utterly confident life.