Dominance and Deception (12 page)

His eyes flew open, and he tipped back his head in submission, his Adam's apple shifting under the skin of his throat as he swallowed thickly. The desperate desire in his face was too intense to ignore, and though his eyelids fluttered shut again after a couple of seconds, I kept my gaze trained on him. As his urgency grew, he guided Faye with a rougher touch, thrusting up into her mouth until he gave one final tug of her hair, echoing her cry of pained pleasure as his climax claimed him.

When Santoro's hand fell away from Faye's hair, she sat back, wiping her mouth with a satisfied smile. Amused, I met her questioning look with a slight shake of my head, and she remained where she was, waiting for Santoro to recover.

Once he'd regained his self-awareness enough to realise he'd just let Faye suck him off while I'd watched, he covered himself uncomfortably. Now he was thinking with his brain again, his doubts had resurfaced, and I let my hand drop back to my side, giving him space.

He noticed my obvious erection, and his tongue flicked out to moisten his lower lip. As if he was uncomfortable with his desire and retreating to familiar mental ground, he turned his attention to Faye, who was waiting patiently for acknowledgement.

"You okay, Faye?” There was a pleading tinge to his voice—I doubted he'd been that rough with a woman during a blow job before.

Faye rested her head reassuringly against his thigh, smiling. “Don't worry, Senior Detective. You didn't break me."

While Santoro sighed with relief, I poured them both some water, allowing them a respite.

"Good for more, little tease?"

Draining her glass, she thought about it for a second, then nodded. I hadn't really thought she'd want to stop there, but we'd never discussed her submitting to anyone but me, and I was treading carefully.

I kissed the top of her head and sent her to the bathroom to freshen up, then turned to Santoro. “On the floor."

This was obviously an order he'd become accustomed to taking, and he vacated his spot on the bed to kneel at my feet, his wrists crossed behind his back in the same position as Faye had been. I sat where he'd been a second ago, looking down at him.

"Still scared, senior detective?"

With an orgasm behind him, Santoro was a lot more relaxed. “Not so much, Sir."

"You don't need to be. If I didn't want you near Faye, you wouldn't be here."

He let the remaining tension drop from his shoulders, nodding.

"Questions.” It was a statement. I knew he had them.

"Are you just doing this because Faye asked for it?” He directed the question to my shoulder, as if too concerned about my reaction to meet my eyes.

I leant forward and rested my fingertips on his forehead, tilting his head back until he looked into my face. Whatever he saw there was enough—he wetted his lips and nodded. “Other questions,” I said.

"How's this gonna work? I mean, the pecking order's a little unclear..."

"I'm at the top."

He grinned. “I kinda figured."

"Faye's my collared property, but she switches. And so do you, if I'm right,” I said, going with my gut instinct for the last.

"I haven't topped before,” he admitted, fidgeting. “Thought about it, but..."

"But what?” I asked, when he trailed off.

"Always been scared that I'll go too far.” He looked a little ashamed, as if it made him a bad person rather than a responsible one.

"That's common enough,” I told him, nodding. “And between Faye and me, we can make sure you don't."

That surprised him a little. “You're okay with me topping her?"

There was a fine line between okay and not okay, and at times I walked it. I was close to that line in this case, but I was pretty sure I could handle it. “I trust her, and I trust you. She knows who she belongs to, and she knows what she can take."

"And voyeurism has its benefits, right?” Santoro added, grinning.

He wasn't wrong. I suppressed a smile, moving on. “Do you feel submissive to Faye?"

He nodded cautiously. “At times, yeah. I've wondered."

"Then we'll talk about that another scene. Do you feel submissive to me?"

"You're kidding, right?” Santoro asked, and I couldn't help but grin at the ‘you even have to ask?’ tone to his voice.

"Good."

Before either of us could continue, Faye returned from the bathroom, wearing only her underwear—black with purple lace trim—and her collar. She sank to her knees beside Santoro, lacing her fingers behind her back, and quietly waited for my instructions, a slight smile hovering about her lips.

Santoro, true to form, turned his head to look my half-naked girl up and down with an appreciative whistle. Faye lost the battle against her grin, but to her credit kept her eyes towards the ground.

"When you're finished, senior detective...” At my mild reprimand, Santoro straightened and cast his eyes downwards, tensing a little against my next words.

I didn't plan to punish him. Hell, I'd have been worried if he
hadn't
reacted that way. Instead, I moved on. “Little tease."

Faye looked up at me, awaiting her orders.

"The rules are the same for Santoro as they are with me. This time. When you get more comfortable with this arrangement, Santoro, you can set some of your own rules—provided they don't conflict with mine. All right?"

"Yes, Sir,” they murmured in unison, then glanced at each other, amused.

"Tell him your in-scene rules, then, little tease."

Faye's words came easily, born of habit. I'd made sure she'd learnt them well. “Don't come without permission, unless told otherwise. Don't speak unless I'm questioned, and if I am, answer honestly and promptly. Safe word when I need it. Resistance games need to be discussed before a scene."

"Sound reasonable, Santoro?” I held off on calling him ‘senior detective'—he'd be the Dominant one in the scene to come, after all.

"Yes, Sir."

Then again, some things were just instinctive.

Quelling my amusement, I said, “Tell me what you want to do to my girl."

His eyes flitted to Faye, and he hesitated, seeming conflicted. I waited him out, knowing how difficult it could be to come to terms with some of the darker desires inside.

"I want to blindfold her, cuff her and take her over my knee, and spank her until her ass is pink,” Santoro admitted finally.

Faye smiled, keeping her eyes cast down, and I nodded at Santoro. “That can be arranged. Anything else?"

"Do you have nipple clamps?” he asked after a moment.

"Answer the senior detective, little tease. Do I?"

Faye settled into her role with a light sigh, her attention focussed on Santoro, now. “Yes, Senior Detective."

Taking his cue from me, Santoro spoke directly to her. “Do you like them?"

She bit her lip, remembering a punishment I'd given her a while back. “Most of the time, Senior Detective."

I saw him file away her ambivalent reaction, and I relaxed a little more. She was in careful hands, if inexperienced ones.

"How would you feel about being clamped, cuffed and then fucked, girl?” he murmured, leaning in close to her ear.

Faye gave a tiny shiver, whispering, “Pretty good, Senior Detective."

Santoro turned to me. “Sir?"

Other than a momentary tingle of possessiveness, I didn't have a problem with that, and I nodded to him. His confidence growing, he turned back to Faye. “Okay, go grab everything you think I'm gonna need."

Faye got up and headed over to the closet, to go through the kink supplies stored there. Santoro got to his feet, watching her, and I moved from the bed to the chair in the corner, quietly vacating the play space.

Faye returned to kneel at his feet, holding out a pair of leather detachable cuffs, a pair of nipple clamps linked by a silver chain, and one of the scarves we used as blindfolds—a purple that matched the trim on her underwear, I noted, entertained by the sight.

Santoro took the items from her, examined them one by one, and stepped back to sit on the edge of the bed, beckoning to her. “Crawl."

It was only a couple of feet, but she did, coming to a stop between his legs and kneeling expectantly. Santoro cuffed each of her wrists in turn, fumbling the buckles a little but managing not to apologise for it. “Too tight?"

Faye shook her head and he tilted up her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. “I can't hear you, girl."

"Sorry, Senior Detective. They're not too tight."

He kissed her, as if comforting himself with something familiar for a moment, and Faye gave herself over to him completely, leaning forward as much as the edge of the bed would allow.

After a moment, Santoro kicked off his shoes and sat up against my headboard, positioning a pillow behind him, and beckoned to Faye. She knelt at his side and held back her hair at his command while he tied the scarf across her eyes.

With her vision obscured, he seemed to gain a little more assurance, though he had to be conscious of my gaze. I didn't engage him in any way when he looked over at me, and he took the hint to concentrate on what he was doing.

"Safe words?"

She gave them. He nodded, comfortable with the arrangement. “Lie across my lap."

She positioned herself there with his help, pillowing her head on her arms, and Santoro tapped her head, slipping my other pillow under it when she lifted it. He clipped her wrist cuffs together behind her back and pushed her hands up enough that they weren't resting against her firm, recently-tattooed ass.

He took his time working her panties down her legs, then ran his fingers over the smooth skin and the loops and whorls of the oversized fingerprint tattoo on her left cheek. “Whose print is this, girl?” he asked.

Faye's voice was a little smug—she didn't often get to divulge this detail. “Zach's."

Only showing a little surprise, he looked over at me with a tiny mock salute. “Kinda gives new meaning to the words ‘on your six'..."

I smirked and, in his lap, Faye giggled. Santoro grabbed a handful of her hair and tugged, delivering a light slap to her ass with his other hand. “Think that's funny, huh?"

She quieted, knowing better than to answer the rhetorical question, and Santoro pulled her body in tight against his stomach, preparing to spank her in earnest. “How about I show you another meaning?"

I watched him draw on his own memories of being spanked as he warmed her up, increasing the force of his slaps by degrees until she gasped and wriggled, turning her head so I could see the pain on her face. Santoro kept up a steady rhythm, never hitting the same area twice in a row, allowing the sting to build and fade. When she relaxed again, becoming half numb to the sensation, he took the cue to hit harder.

Her cries were beautiful, and from the way she arched her hips against him, I could tell she was enjoying the pleasure of submitting to him as well as the pain of the spanking. Santoro was completely absorbed in his task, caught up in her reactions, and though Faye's body obscured my view of his lap, I didn't doubt he was hard and longing to take her.

When Faye forgot to breathe, tensing in anticipation of each blow and screwing her eyes up tight, I knew she was close to breaking. I sat forward, my instinct telling me to halt the session, but she hadn't given her safe word, and no matter what my protective impulse said, this wasn't my scene to put an end to.

Damn it, I want to, though.

Just as I opened my mouth, a sharp word for Santoro on my tongue, he stopped of his own accord. Rubbing away the sting he'd inflicted, he stroked Faye's hair and murmured words of encouragement to her.

I made myself relax as he turned her over and pulled her into a sitting position in his lap, wrapping his arms around her and pulling off the blindfold. Faye clung to him, her face turned from me, and the intimate moment between them didn't bug me as much as I'd expected it would.

When she'd calmed a little, she raised her head from Santoro's chest, and he kissed her provocatively, unclipping the cuffs and allowing her to put her arms around his neck. She met his hunger with her own, shifting against him in a calculated shimmy. Santoro forcefully broke off the kiss and with a voracious grin pulled back her head by the hair, looking over at me. “Starting to see why you call her ‘little tease'."

"And you didn't before?” Faye looked from one of us to the other as I continued as if she wasn't even in the room. “It's not just an act, either. If you feel between those spread legs of hers, you'll see what I mean."

Before Faye could correct her wanton pose by bringing her knees together, Santoro slipped his fingers down between her thighs, a soft groan escaping his throat when he encountered the slick heat I knew would be there. “Wow, she really has been getting off on this. Didn't think this actually happened outside porn movies."

Faye whimpered, seeming torn between humiliation at the way we were discussing her and frustration at the slow strokes of Santoro's fingers. He pulled away, drawing a sigh from her throat, and reached for the clamps on the bedcovers beside him.

"Okay, let's see if I can find somewhere for these."

At his instruction, Faye slid off his lap to kneel beside him again, and he unhooked her bra without faltering—it seemed his Casanova reputation really was based in fact. When he pulled the garment away, he gave another trademark Santoro grin, then leaned in to turn his tongue to her nipples.

I could tell the exact instant he bit down—Faye gave a sharp gasp, clutching his shoulders, and a second later he slipped the first clamp into place, licking his lips.

"Too tight?"

Faye tested the sensation with a deep breath, and nodded. “A little, Senior Detective."

He loosened the clamp, looking into her face with a concern that reassured me. “How about now?"

"Better, Senior Detective,” Faye said.

Santoro repeated the process with the second clamp, learning from the experience. “Tighter?"

Once they were both satisfied with the clamps, Santoro stood up and we watched him shed his pants, freeing his hard cock for a second time. Faye leant back on her elbows, watching him with appreciative eyes, and I admired the picture the pair of them made.