Clark, Rachel - Alicia's Awakening (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (10 page)

BOOK: Clark, Rachel - Alicia's Awakening (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)
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The muscles in my pussy are pulsing with my heartbeat, the feeling of being trapped and vulnerable only tempered by the man standing close enough for me to still feel his body heat.

“I’m going to fuck you, little sub, and you
will
come screaming my name.”

Oh. Wow. The temperature in this room just rose a million degrees. Talk about meltdown. I’m ready to dissolve into a damn puddle at this man’s feet, and he has barely even touched me. I feel him move away, hear him opening and closing cupboards, and nearly scream when a soft flogger flicks over the inside of my thigh. The sting quickly morphs into heat, the second flick landing on the opposite thigh. I’m shaking violently as he starts working me over with the flogger. My ass and thighs are on fire, my breathing harsh, my eyes closing as a moan escapes me.

“What is your safe word, little sub?”

I can barely focus on his words, his deep voice just a soothing, familiar sound. Safe word? Oh! “Cabbage, S–Sir,” I finally manage to mumble.

“Good girl. Use it if you need to,” he whispers in my ear.

The flogger flicks up between my legs, the soft ends licking over my swollen pussy lips. Fuck, I feel like I’ve been horny all day. This is just winding me even tighter. I’ve gone far past the point where I usually orgasm. Somehow, Doug is taking me beyond what I thought I knew.

I scream in surprise as he does it again, this time wrapping the soft leather strips all the way under me and striking my swollen, no-longer-protected-by-hair clit. Holy fuck. More sensitive? Major understatement.

I’m shaking all over when he stops, my affinity for finding pleasure in the pain making me shake with desperate need. But he moves away and I try to look over my shoulder to see.

“Eyes to the front, little sub, or I will blindfold you.”

I do as he says, not really concerned by the threat, but not wanting to delay whatever is about to happen. I can barely breathe, my limbs are shaking, my ass and thighs are on fire. I’m more turned on than I thought possible, but Doug is apparently determined to draw things out. Considering that the last three weeks seem to have been leading to this moment, I’m not sure how much more I can take.

Finally he steps up behind me, grabs my hips, and places something hard and thick against my pussy lips. At first I’m not sure what it is, but then he pulls me back toward him, bending his knees to force his cock deeper into my pussy. I’m tingling all over, just the feeling of finally having him inside my body setting off the beginning of my orgasm.

“Not yet,” he growls as he moves a hand up to my breast and squeezes my nipple. I pant through the sting, still unnerved by the nasty pain. Anywhere else on my body pain morphs into pleasure, but not my nipples, never my nipples. I feel tears prickle my eyes as he finally lets go, but it’s enough to bring me back from the brink.

He pulls me harder against him, my pussy feeling full, the sensation of him deep inside me overwhelming. I’m beginning to shake again, my arousal quickly throwing me once more toward orgasm, but just the touch on my breast brings me back. I feel tears of frustration fill my eyes. I want to come. Hell, I want to be fucked by this man, but just as he warned me, I’ll do what he says, when he says, even if he has to make me.

He fucks me lazily, sliding into my pussy and then back out again, the grip of his fingers almost painful but not quite, his movements pushing me back toward the peak but this time more slowly, more steadily, somehow thrusting me past that threshold once more.

I whimper when he moves away, my pussy pulsing around the emptiness. He goes back to flogging me, the soft strands beating against my skin over and over. I moan as they flick my clit, the warmth radiating outward, liquid fire beginning to lick every nerve ending. I barely notice my bonds being removed, my arms falling like dead weights as my knees give way. He gathers me close, lifting me in his arms before placing me facedown over a padded bench.

He clips my hands behind me, my legs barely touching the ground as he suddenly slams his cock back into me. I scream at the violent thrust, my clit throbbing, demanding attention, my legs shaking violently as he lifts them up and drags me onto his cock again and again and again.

I’m babbling incoherently, my need overwhelming, my body waiting, needing his permission.

He growls as he thrusts even harder, my upper body jolting and sliding against the padded bench, my breasts aching, my nipples throbbing as they are crushed under my weight. I can’t even protect them. I’m helpless against his superior strength, the pain in my nipples the only thing holding off my orgasm.

And judging by his soft laugh, the bastard knows it.

Finally, he grips me harder, spinning me around so that I now lie over the thinner part of the bench, my breasts thankfully free from the torture. And then he really starts to fuck me, his movements violent, desperate, deliberately painful.

“Come,” he growls, his fingers pinching my clit. Orgasm explodes inside me, the relief, the thrill, the agony I feel somehow combining to throw me into subspace. I’m moaning, my body moving, undulating against him, shaking in his grip, my mind floating with pleasure, my voice babbling his name over and over.

I feel him stiffen, his movement slowing as his orgasm begins. His cock throbs inside me, the feeling setting off aftershocks that have me moaning again. My whole body is his to control, to own, to take. Somehow it’s like I belong here, impaled on his cock, my body no longer in my possession.

Carefully he leans over me, presses a kiss to my shoulder before he moves away and disposes of the condom. I hang there, unable to move, too tired to sit up, too used to care what I might look like. He comes back, and I’m surprised when he clips my ankle cuffs to restraints. He moves around me, grips each arm in turn, and fastens them down also. I’m very literally draped over the bench, my ass in the air.

“What’s your safe word, little sub?”

Again I hesitate, the meaning of his words taking time to coalesce in my head. “C–Cabbage, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

I gasp, trying to move away as a thick piece of leather strikes the back of my thighs. “Shit!” I exclaim as my skin suddenly feels like it’s on fire.

The second is higher, right under the place where my bottom meets my thighs. I’m gasping, desperate to get away, wriggling against my bonds. I don’t even understand why the tears are running up my face I’m so unfocused by the pain. A warm hand slides over my head, the touch very soothing, very reassuring.

“D–Did I do something wrong, S–Sir?” I ask as the tears fall more freely.

“No, little sub,” my Dom says as he continues to touch me comfortingly.

“Then why?” I ask as my thighs continue to throb and my tears continue to flow.

“Because part of your training is to learn your limits. Do you want to use your safe word?”

Do I? It seems strange that I’m reacting this way. I’ve always liked the pain Doug inflicts—well except for anything against my nipples—so I can’t imagine why it’s hurting so much now.

“It’s okay to use your safe word, Alicia,” Doug says, sounding very calm. But I feel like I’m letting him down. Part of what he gets out of being a Dom is being able to focus his own thoughts. If I interrupt him all the time, he doesn’t get what he needs. It seems a poor way to repay someone who has already shown me so much about myself.

“How many more?” I ask softly, hoping like hell that it’s a very small number.

“Only one,” he says, tracing over the soft skin where I think he intended the last blow to land. “It’s okay, little sub. I don’t mind if you use your safe word.”

“No,” I say a little nervously, swallowing before I can continue. “I want to do this for you.”

His hand stills in my hair, his fingers seeming to shake just a little before he moves away.

“Are you sure, little sub?” he asks, sounding surprised.

I’m not really sure I can handle the pain. I’m not even sure I understand why I couldn’t handle it in the first place. The only thing I am sure about is that I want to do this for Doug. “Yes, Sir, I’m sure.”

He leans over, presses a kiss to my spine, and then steps back into position.

I try to force my muscles to unclench. I know it will hurt less if I’m relaxed, but my thighs are still throbbing painfully. Doug seems to hesitate for a moment and I’m beginning to think he’ll take the choice away from me. I sag against my bonds, very disappointed to have let my Dom down on my first day of training. Doug deserves so much more from me.

The crack of the leather exactly where I expected it to land takes me by surprise, but it was the fact that it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the other two that has me stunned.

“Good girl,” Doug says as he again presses kisses to my spine. “Thank you, little sub.”

He unfastens my bonds and then lifts me into his arms. My ass and thighs are still on fire, but somehow the pain is lessened just knowing that I pleased him. He takes me into the bathroom, makes sure I’m balanced against him as he undoes the cuffs on my ankles, and then helps me into a cool bath. He quickly removes the cuffs on my wrists and then climbs in with me.

The cool water feels wonderful against my blazing skin, but it’s the man holding me that brings me peace.

* * * *

Doug reached down and swept the hair away from Alicia’s face. Even in the cool water she’d fallen asleep almost immediately, and he’d been grateful for the chance to reset his own equilibrium.

He’d been pleased with their session in the playroom, even proud of the way she’d handled the leather strap, and quite relieved that things had gone well. After the beginning of their evening he was already questioning if he was letting his personal feelings interfere with his agreement to train her.

Never before had a sub noticed his uncertainty. He was only human, of course, but part of being a Dom with a trainee sub was the illusion that he was always right, always in charge, always sure.

He’d definitely fucked that up earlier tonight.

Not only had he triggered a panic attack, but he’d very nearly handled it all wrong. Maybe she would have reacted the same way regardless, but it was his job to anticipate such issues. The fact that he’d been tempted to push her into orgasm to break through her panic just proved how off-balance he’d been feeling. She’d already been concerned that, after their arrangement ended, she wouldn’t be able to orgasm without his permission. The last thing she needed to do was build an association in her mind between orgasm and panic attacks. Talk about fucking with a person’s thinking. He was supposed to help her find what she needed. Not send her into years of therapy.

But what really messed with his head was wondering if she’d noticed his uncertainty because she was particularly sensitive to the people around her or that she’d noticed because he’d somehow wanted her to see.

Either way, it didn’t bode well for his future.

He was already feeling possessive of this little sub, but even though he might want to, she wasn’t his to keep.

* * * *

Three hours after talking to Alicia, Lachlan was still staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. He had a pretty good idea what Doug had been doing while she’d been talking on the phone with him. He’d been a little worried that Doug would deny their nightly calls as part of her sub training, so he’d been very relieved that she’d answered the phone at all.

But when she’d sounded so tired, he’d almost lost it.

Crap
. He had to get a hold of himself. He was a trained Dom. He understood how the world of BDSM worked. He had no right to feel anything other than proud of his friend for finding something that made her happy.

Now, if he could just shake off the jealousy…

Chapter Eleven

I wake lying in my Dom’s arms. I have no memory of how I came to be in his bed or perhaps him in mine—I never did find out where I was meant to sleep—but I am very grateful for the comfort. He even managed to get my wrist and ankle cuffs back on without disturbing my slumber. I lift slightly to watch his face as he sleeps, the strain of the day still clear in his features.

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