Giving It Up: Pushing the Boundaries, Book 1 (13 page)

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Authors: Audra North

Tags: #Domme;Dominatrix;BDSM;contemporary romance;men in uniform;SWAT;comedy

BOOK: Giving It Up: Pushing the Boundaries, Book 1
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Chapter Fourteen

It had been too long since she’d seen Warren.

Beatrice didn’t bother with a robe this time. When seven o’clock the next Wednesday rolled around and he knocked on her door, she opened it wearing a lace bra and panty set with thigh-high lace stockings, and nothing to cover her.

His jaw dropped when he saw her, and the movement boosted her confidence enough to pull him inside and lock the door behind him.

For a moment, she debated whether or not to kiss him. But despite the intensity of their kiss two weeks before, how she’d touched him at the restaurant and made him come over the phone, this time it felt like it would be too much. Too wrong.

First, she needed to know where they stood. The lines between professional arrangement and personal involvement were already too blurred. She already knew she wasn’t going to take his money—she’d decided that as soon as she’d hung up the phone with him last week. But she didn’t know how
he
felt, and she couldn’t take the risk of muddling things even further.

She bent and took off his shoes, not missing the bulge already in his pants.
Good.
At least there was one area that felt crystal clear. He wanted her, even if only for the release she could bring him. He seemed to enjoy being taken care of, and yet, he’d been an active participant last week on the phone. Like he wasn’t going to passively accept what she gave him. Like he
wanted
to be involved with her.

Except he said he didn’t.

Not that she’d actually asked…

She was so confused.

She finished removing his shoes, then slid her body up his and pressed a kiss to his neck. Surely that was okay. And the way he shuddered in response, his arms coming up around her…he seemed to think it was okay anyway. And she liked putting her mouth on him.

It would have to be enough for now.

“Take off your clothes and get on the bed. Lie on your back.” She got straight to the point this week. There wasn’t enough time to ease him in, to relax him with a glass of wine and chat about her life. If he wanted them to stick to the schedule of one hour a week, they had to start immediately for what she wanted to do tonight.

Besides, she needed to feel his body beneath hers.

He seemed to pick up on her urgency, though, because his clothes were off in record time, his big body easing onto the bed. She’d pulled down the comforter already, and he lay on top of the sheet, looking for all the world like he owned that bed.

She couldn’t help but think that, at least in her mind, he did.

This time, she looked him over without hesitation, letting him watch her eyes as they roamed his body. She smiled in approval when she got to his cock, hard and ready for her. It made her feel incredibly powerful, seeing how much she turned him on without even touching him.

She reached out and put one hand on his chest. She’d intended to tease him a bit, right away, but she paused when she felt his heart beating beneath her fingers. It was going so fast. It made her wonder whether he’d gotten this excited from the few minutes they’d spent together, or if he’d thought about her during the week, making their reunion feel as heady to him as it did to her.

Was that just wishful thinking?

She didn’t think so. She knew there was something between them, but it was one thing to take control of physical pleasure—something else entirely to be bold enough to talk about her
feelings
with Warren.

He already held her heart in his hand. One wrong move and those big, strong fingers might end up crushing it completely.

She lingered over the place where she could feel his heartbeat, rapid but steady, and in the next moment, he reached his hand out to cover hers, giving it a brief squeeze before dropping his hand back to his side.

Oh. Oh goodness.

It nearly killed her, that simple touch. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t have the courage, and it made her clumsy. She fumbled a bit when she reached for the dark scarf she used as a blindfold, and even though she took several deep breaths to calm herself, her fingers were still shaking as she tied it around his head.

He had to have noticed, but he stayed still the whole time. Acquiescent. She wasn’t sure she was doing BDSM correctly, but it certainly didn’t feel wrong. Besides, it felt right—for her and Warren and who they were together.

Still, it unnerved her, how passive he was being.

Maybe he doesn’t really care about being involved with you. Maybe last week was just the result of too much pent-up arousal.

That’s what she told herself, anyway. Because although it was depressing, at least it made it easier to focus. She had a job to do, and even if it meant she would lose her heart to Warren with no hope of having her care returned, she was going to enjoy what she could.

She stepped back. “What’s your safeword?” A quick check, to be sure. This evening wasn’t going to be easy for either of them.

“Latte.”

“Good.” She nodded in approval and climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to him, and dipped her head so the ends of her hair brushed his abdomen, moving up his body. He flinched, trying to get away from the tickling sensation, but she followed the path with her hands, pressing and smoothing. Getting him used to the myriad sensations. Preparing him for the next step.

She worked her way up to his chest, circling his nipples with her fingers until they were hard points, fascinatingly small in comparison to hers. His areolae were brown, much darker than her own pale pink ones, and she rubbed and teased at them for a minute before leaning down and sucking at the skin above his left nipple.

He tasted so good. Salt and warmth and masculinity all wrapped up in a beautiful package. She sucked harder, while below his hips pushed upward, his cock so hard it was sitting an inch above his stomach while his ab muscles flexed.

She stroked one hand down his side, from his ribs to his hip, and pressed into the place next to where the hard shaft met his body, pushing him back down. She threaded her fingers through the tight curls of hair at the base of his shaft, pulling gently.

“Oh fuck. Beatrice.” He gasped out the words, his hands coming up to search for her, but she removed her hand from him.

“Hands back down on the bed, Warren. Don’t make me bind you.”

He groaned, but did as she ordered, and she brought her hand back to the base of his erection, circling her fingers around him and squeezing while her other hand continued to tease at his nipples.

He was breathing fast, his chest jumping with every breath, and she could see his fingers flexing at his sides. She moved her hand down to play with his sac, scratching her nails lightly over the ridged skin, then massaging him, rolling and rubbing her fingers along the tight space beneath.

The sounds he was making now were almost painful. Quiet groans and hard exhales—she could feel his balls tightening, pulling up close to his body. She could bring him even closer within seconds, she was sure, but she backed off, taking both of her hands away without warning, and his hips practically flew off the bed, seeking her touch.

“Fuck, Beatrice. Shit, I can’t take any more.” He was growling through his teeth, his neck so tight she could see the tendons in detail.

Damn, he was so beautiful.

“You know the safeword,” she reminded him, but he didn’t use it. Instead, he let out a sound of frustration and clenched his hands atop the sheet. Waiting for her next move.

She nearly laughed, feeling heady with the power.

Power he had given her.

He kept his hands at his sides even though he easily could have grabbed her and bent her to his will. He’d acquiesced. Given his power and his
trust
over to her.

What I have, you have given me.

She didn’t say it, but she thought it while looking into his eyes before she reached out, opened the drawer on her nightstand and pulled out the things she’d sterilized earlier that day. The things Mistress Michelle had given her last week after she’d assisted with the scene at Queen Dommes.

Courage. You can do this.

She wanted to do it. He’d given her the power to do it.

She bent forward and pressed her tongue against one of his nipples, then pulled back and blew a stream of air over it. It peaked immediately, nice and tight, standing tall, practically like a beacon.

“I’m going to put something here—” she gently pressed it between two fingers, and he sucked in a breath, “—that’s going to pinch. But only at first.” She watched his face. He was frowning, but he remained silent.

Trusting.

She took a deep breath and picked up one of the clamps, opening it and placing it over his nipple before releasing the sides. He blew out a breath when it caught, and she waited for a moment to see if he would safeword.

It wasn’t very tight. She’d adjusted them earlier and tested them on herself. But it was enough that he would certainly feel something when she took them off later.

Hopefully it would be a good experience for him.

She placed the other one, and still he didn’t say a word. She grabbed the bottle of lube from her nightstand and set it between his legs, then ran her hands down his body, squeezing his cock, which was so hard now the head was a dark purple and the veins along the edge were thick and standing out.

It wouldn’t take long.

Do you know how much I care about you?
she wanted to ask.
Do you know how nervous I am? Do you know I’m doing this for you, and not for the money?

But that wouldn’t be fair. Not now. Not ever.

She popped open the cap of the lube, and his head jerked, almost imperceptibly, at the sound. She pushed his legs up, stroking the backs of his thighs as she parted them. He caught on immediately, because he helped her, pulling his knees back and giving her access to all of him.

What a difference between the scene she’d helped with last week and what she was doing with Warren now. That had required trust too, to be certain, but this was something different. This was someone she lo—

No. Don’t think it. Don’t even think about any kind of love, or you’ll be in so much trouble.

Instead, she tipped the bottle of lube and let some drip out of the bottle onto her fingers, all over her palm. She slicked up his cock, squeezing fast and hard, once, and he lifted his hips, giving her the perfect opportunity to slide her fingers over his sac, down his taint, to circle the tight, puckered hole below.

He groaned and her finger involuntarily stilled, waiting, but he didn’t make another sound, and she began again, gently massaging him. She played there for a while, letting him adjust to the feel of her, before adding more lube and then slowly, gently, pushing the tip of her index finger inside of his body.

Please don’t stop me. I know this isn’t in our agreement, but it’s what you need. I think.

He huffed out a breath, but said nothing, and she finally allowed herself to relax and realize that—
oh wow.
She was inside of Warren’s body. Inside of
him
. He felt so good and tight. Was this what she would feel like if he pushed his cock inside of her? Would her body squeeze around his like this, draw out his pleasure?

Warren, inside of her, slick and hot like her finger was right now.

Oh goodness.
She had to press her legs together to ease the ache that was starting to thrum between her legs. She was desperately aroused, breathing almost as fast as he was, and the thought of him sliding his shaft all the way into her body made her slide her finger in a little deeper.

She’d watched Michelle do this last week and had spent a few hours reading more too. She was taking it as slowly as she could, feeling his muscles give way without too much protest, almost as though he’d done this before. Or at least imagined it.

The throbbing between her legs intensified.

Honestly, she’d expected him to safeword by now. Or at least not enjoy it as much as he seemed to be. But he looked more relaxed than he had since she’d known him. He
felt
relaxed inside too, the pressure around her finger lessening a little as she reached up and rubbed his perineum. His cock was standing almost straight up at this point, liquid leaking from the slit at the top.

He was ready.

The anal plug from Mistress Michelle was fairly small. It was beautiful and simple—a smooth, stainless steel teardrop with a thick ring on top. She retrieved it from the table too, and warmed it in her free hand while slowly pulling her finger from his body. He made a soft guttural sound when she slipped out, immediately pressing the plug to his entrance in place of her finger, but she was surprised when that made him tense. She could feel it in the air, the tightening of his muscles at the feel of that hard metal object at his opening.

“I promise not to hurt you,” she whispered, breaking the long silence between them. She reached out and stroked his calf, feeling him relaxing by degrees. “I promise. I-I couldn’t
bear
to hurt you.”

She almost gasped the words, feeling like she was being split open and spilling her heart onto the floor, even though he couldn’t possibly know from that one statement how she felt. Could he?

But he seemed to read something from it, because he groaned, opening to her, and the plug slipped inside his body, seating deep before she even realized how far it had gone.
Goodness.
Had that been a coincidence? Or did it really matter to him that she cared so much for him?

“It is okay?” She put everything she had into that simple question, and for a second, he hesitated, his head moving as though he were trying to seek out her eyes even from behind the blindfold, but then he nodded and dropped his head back, pushing his hips up ever so slightly.

Hinting.

She quickly cleaned her fingers using one of the wipes she had set out at the foot of the bed before Warren had arrived, then rubbed and cupped the rough, hairy skin of his balls in one hand while she wrapped her fingers around his cock with the other.

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