Desert Surrender (11 page)

Clarissa"s fingers itched to pick up the shrimp or at least a piece of chicken or steak. Doing as he asked was getting harder by the second as the small bites of vegetables only served to fuel her hunger instead of feed it.

“May I have some shrimp?”

“The plate in the middle. There"s some crackers around it. Use that to dip out the food and eat it.”

She stared at the concoction. “What is it?”

“Food first, questions later.”

A slight shake of her head showed her reluctance. “It looks vaguely like liver.” She leaned closer to it. “Now that I"m looking at it, I"m pretty sure it"s ground-up pâté.”

“I didn"t ask for a review, I asked you to eat it. Just a small bite on a cracker.”

Clarissa wrinkled up her nose. “I don"t like liver. I"ll pass.” She picked up a piece of shrimp and popped it in her mouth, chewing noisily. “This is much better.” She reached for another one, stopping with the prawn in midair when he cleared his throat.

“Put it down.”

Their gazes locked. His expression was impassive, and she wondered what was going through his mind. If she failed this test, would their fun be over? What harm could it do to push it a little? On the other hand, she didn"t want to jeopardize what could turn out to be a fantastic relationship.

The shrimp dropped noiselessly back onto the plate, and she put her hand in her lap, feeling a little like a child who had been caught stealing cookies between meals.

“You"re a bad girl, Clarissa. I told you to eat the other food, and you ate the shrimp. What am I going to do with you?”

“Um, spank me?”

“No, much too easy.” He folded his hands in his lap. “Stand up and walk around the table until I decide.”

The order took her aback just a little. She hadn"t expected something like that. She stood and started to walk, the long chain still hanging from her pussy dragging behind her.

“Hands behind your back, head down.” She followed his instructions, feeling strangely exhilarated. When she"d made one pass around the table, she stopped.

“Continue walking until I say otherwise.”

She wanted to snap at him, to ask what her walking had to do with his thinking.

Instead she heaved a huge, put-upon sigh and started off again. The table wasn"t that big, so making a circuit didn"t take too long. She"d made six when he finally told her to stop.

Desert Surrender

57

“Come over here.” He pointed to a spot right in front of him. She moved toward him, feeling the same sense of excited vulnerability she"d felt last evening.

“Hand me your leash.”

She lifted the chain from the floor, gathered up its length before handing it to him.

He stood as she placed it in his hand. “Spread your legs, arms at your side.”

“I"m not sure I like instructions like that. Makes me feel like a disobedient child.”

“You"re a submissive doing as she"s told.” He trailed the chain up her stomach, threading it around one nipple ring and then the other before looping it around her neck and taking it back down to her pussy. She felt a slight tug as it passed through her clit ring before he let the length of it drop to the floor.

“Very nice. Climb onto the table and lie on your back.”

Clarissa glanced at the table, swallowing hard. “It looks rather small.”

“Do as I ask.” She nodded, sitting on the edge and scooting back. The wood was very cold against her backside, and she shivered as she lay down. She fit on there perfectly, which surprised her just a bit. From this position, he would be able to get to her from wherever he wanted.

“Are you going to tie me?”

He remained silent, and she felt her chain move just a little, heard a
click
. “What was that?” He ignored the question and trailed a length of it back up her body to the other end of the table before she heard another
click.

“Maddox, what are you doing?”

He ignored the question and moved to the tray. She watched him carefully as he lifted the plate of shrimp, then came back to her.

“Didn"t your mother teach you it was dangerous to eat when you"re lying down?”

She shivered as he trailed a piece of shrimp over her nipple, then jumped when he dumped the entire plateful on her stomach.

Her movement pulled on her rings, and she gasped. “Just so you know, I attached the chain to a little hook in the table. I made sure it was nice and taut, so anytime you move it will pull on your rings. Really, you should just lie still.”

“But…”

“Since you didn"t want to eat, I"m going to, and I"m going to use you as my table.”

He walked back over to the table and picked up the plate full of brown goo. She watched him walk toward her, trailing his finger through it. He lifted it to his mouth, licked at the substance.

“Chocolate. Yummy.” He scooped out a handful and put a little bit on each breast.

The food was cold, and she moved slightly. Her rings pulled again, making her groan.

The feeling was half pain, half pleasure, and heightened by the cold from the food.

How could she have been so stupid as to turn down one of her favorite foods? “It didn"t look like chocolate.”

58

Melinda Barron

“Looks can be deceiving.” He went back to the tray, picked up the other plate of food she didn"t recognize. “Hummus.”

“Of course. Chickpeas and yogurt.” She groaned loudly as he tipped the plate over her pussy. The frigid food slid over her mons, and she arched her back, pulling yet again on her rings. “Ouch.” She lay back down, trying not to move as the cold seeped into her body.

“You really should do as I say. I wrapped the chain around the rings several times, to provide maximum pull when you moved.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” She clasped the edges of the table with her hands in an effort to stay still. It was hard, though, since he was now trailing his fingers through the hummus, moving it onto her stomach and thighs.

He went back to the tray several times, decorating her body with vegetables, chicken, crab, and steak before picking up a fork. “Dinnertime.”

Clarissa watched him as he perched on the edge of the table, lowering the fork toward her stomach. Her breath came in short, wispy gasps as he pushed it into a piece of shrimp. She felt the pressure but no sting from the tines as he speared his food. He lifted the morsel to his mouth and popped it inside, chewing slowly.

“Cocktail sauce,” he said around a mouthful. He walked back to the tray, picked up the sauce, and then dumped it over the shrimp on her stomach. The cool liquid seemed to seep into her bones as he speared another shrimp and dragged it through the red paste. He took a bite and nodded his approval.

“Much better.” She wiggled as he stabbed something else, the tine of the fork pressing against her skin. The pull from the chain intensified as she wiggled, and she groaned. “Does the pain, even the slightest bit of it, feel good or bad?”

Clarissa watched him eat a piece of steak, her mouth watering. Strangely enough, the pain felt good. She wasn"t sure she wanted to tell him that, though. How would he use that information?

She groaned loudly as he trailed the fork through the hummus, the tines sliding along her slit. “Answer me.”

“Feels good.” She closed her eyes as the tip of the fork slid into her slit, sliding along her soft inner folds. The movement made her body stir in ways she"d never felt before, her clit jumping as if to beg for a taste of the metal utensil. He used his free hand to widen her lips, then lightly pricked her pussy with the fork. The stabs weren"t painful, and they certainly didn"t pierce her skin. What they did was make her want to beg for more.

He continued his prodding, never once touching the fork against her clit. She arched into him several times, the movement causing the same pulling sensation on her clit and nipples. Wetness flooded her, and she wondered if he would use his tongue on her, make her come.

Desert Surrender

59

The thought flew away as he traced the fork up her body, gently pricking her as he went. He stopped from time to time, spearing a piece of food and lifting it to his mouth.

Clarissa forced herself to lie still, even as she wanted to scream at him to stop playing with her, to put his hands back on her pussy, to make her come. Finally he picked up a piece of the shrimp, dragged it through the sauce, and then lifted her head.

The movement tightened the tension on the chain and made her groan.

“Eat.” He put the shrimp in front of her mouth, and she ate it, chewing slowly as he watched.

“Thank you.”

“You"re welcome. Would you like more?”

“Yes, please.” He laid her head down gently, then walked behind her and unsnapped the link above her head. The tension on the chain released, and she sighed in relief.

“Thank you, again.”

“Sit up.” She did as he asked, and food fell to the table, some of it spilling onto the floor. She started to get off the table, and he pressed down on her shoulder. “Stay on the table.”

He fed her several pieces of shrimp, running each one through the sauce that still lingered on her stomach or had dropped to her thighs. Then he put both hands under a breast, lifted it toward her mouth.

“Lick.” The chocolate, mixed with the saltiness of her skin, tasted delicious. He stroked the back of her hair as she lapped at herself. “Such a good girl. Suck your nipple, clean it off.”

He tilted her large breast up to give her better access. The chain and her ring tasted strange as she followed his instructions. The sweetness of the chocolate won out, and she cleaned her nipple totally, her nipple popping from her mouth as he released her breast gently.

“I guess there"s something to be said about having fatty boobs, huh?” She laughed nervously, then watched him move to the other side of the table.

“Now this one.” She licked herself again, not sucking her nipple into her mouth until he gave her instructions to do so. This time his free hand traced her thighs as she suckled herself. When he let her go, he stroked her cheek. “You"re such a good girl. Too bad you can"t lick your own pussy. I"d like to see that.”

Laughter bubbled out of her mouth. “I"m fat, so my boobs are real and big and can move. I"m not a contortionist.”

“You"re not fat; you"re extremely beautiful and very delectable.” Heat rushed through her at his words. Even Serge, who had professed to love her, had told her at times how heavy she was, how much he wanted her to slim down. Maddox leaned toward her, kissed her gently.

60

Melinda Barron

“I"m still hungry, and I hate to see good hummus go to waste. It"s one of my favorite foods.” He trailed his hand down her body as he moved to the end of the table.

He grasped her thighs and pulled her toward him until her ass barely rested on the table. Then he sat in the chair, and his head disappeared between her thighs.

She cried out as his tongue speared her lips, diving inside her folds and licking greedily. His soft murmurs of approval as he feasted made her feel more wanted than she"d ever felt in her life. His tongue teased her pussy, lapping at her clit from time to time. She gasped and undulated into him, the pull on her rings as delicious as the softness of his tongue.

When he pulled her clit into his mouth, then flicked the tip of his tongue over the tight nub, she came, her body tightening with pleasure as he continued his luscious assault.

“Maddox! Oh fuck.” She fell back onto the table, pressing herself into his mouth as he continued to eat. When his head finally lifted, she wanted to scream at him to go back for more. She propped herself up on her elbows and gazed down at him, her eyes heavy with desire.

“So good.”

“Yes, it was rather tasty.” He smacked his lips, then squeezed her thigh. “Now it"s time for you to have something substantial to eat. On your knees.”

Clarissa thought she"d never heard such a great offer. She dropped down, ignoring the tension on her chain and put her hands on his fly.

“No, hands behind your back.” Her excitement doubled as she obeyed. Was it because she knew she was about to taste him, or was it the appealing way he ordered her to do things that made her feel so wonderful inside? She didn"t know, and right now she didn"t care. All she wanted was to suck him.

Her gaze fastened on his hands greedily as they went to his belt, slowly undoing it. Would he spank her with that belt one day? The idea thrilled her. He didn"t pull it loose from its loops today, though. He let it drop, then unbuttoned his pants, his hands going to the zipper.

“Are you hungry?” He lifted one of his hands to her head, lightly brushing hair away from her face. The soft touch made her nerve endings sizzle even more.

“Starving.” She leaned her head into his hand, and he cupped her cheek, caressing her jaw with the pad of his thumb.

“Do you remember last night?”

She nodded, leaning into him more.

“Then you know what to do.”

She lifted her gaze to where he stared down at her. “Please, Maddox, may I have your cock?”

“Yes, you may. So very sweet.” He undid his zipper slowly, the sound seeming to fill the room and drown out her own ragged breathing. When he lifted his cock out of Desert Surrender

61

his shorts and stroked it, she wanted to push his hand away, swallow him whole. She inched her mouth toward him, and he pulled back.

“Not yet. Don"t be in such a hurry.”

“I asked nicely.” She could hear the whining in her voice, and it made her cringe.

“Yes, you did. I"m not ready yet. I"m enjoying watching you kneel before me, ready to suck me at my command.”