Hard Lessons (15 page)

Not something, someone. Nick. I glance at my wall clock and see that it’s quarter to midnight. How long have I been asleep? Must be at least six hours. Christ, he told me to take as much time as I needed, but by now he’ll be sure I’ve left for good. He’ll think I bailed out.

I need to get back there. Now. I leap up and grab my jacket, which was tossed casually over the chair. I fumble in the pocket and find my key to Nick’s house. Even if he’s already in bed by the time I get there I can still get in. He said he’d be pleased to see me. Well, let’s see just how pleased.

I’m hungry, thirsty, but I don’t even wait long enough to make myself a cup of tea. I just want to get back to Cartmel, to Nick. I lock my apartment door behind me and head down to the underground car park where my lovely Vanquish waits faithfully. I slip in, and within minutes I’m purring along the near deserted dual carriageway heading for Cartmel. The major road soon gives way to smaller country lanes, and I negotiate them, probably a little faster than I should. Twenty-two minutes after I pulled out of the car park under my apartment I turn into Nick’s small private courtyard and park my car alongside his motorbike. I get out and rush toward the front door, not even listening for the telltale clunk that signals the automatic locking system has activated. My pride and joy, and I just leave it there for any passing TWOCCER to help themselves!

I hurry up the path without a backward glance and try the door, but it’s locked. I slip my key in the lock and let myself in. The place is in darkness, totally silent. I stand in the hallway for a few moments, just listening. Nothing, so I assume that he must be in bed. I slip off my shoes and pad along the central hallway to Nick’s bedroom, open the door and slip inside.

He’s not there. The bed hasn’t been slept in. In stupid disbelief I stare at the smooth duvet, as if I’m imagining he could be somehow lying still and perfectly flat under it. I step over to the bed, shake my head in confusion.
Where is he?

“I’m guessing this means our arrangement’s still on.”

I whirl around at the low voice behind me. Nick is there, in the doorway, silhouetted in the light from the hallway. I can’t make out his features against the light, but his voice sounds okay. I think. Warm, not that stern Dom tone he so often uses and seems to switch on and off at will. I nod, but make no move toward him yet, still not quite sure of my welcome.

“Welcome back. You took your time, though. Head all sorted now?” His words dispel all doubt.

I nod and take a tentative step toward him. As I move closer I can see that his smile is warm, and sexy as sin. Then, in a move lifted directly from
Dirty Dancing
, he beckons me to him. I play my part by rushing across the room. I throw myself into his arms as he lifts me from my feet and whirls me around. He kicks the bedroom door shut, and I’m rammed against it as he kisses me. His mouth is hard, demanding, his tongue plunging deep. I sink my fingers into his hair, combing through as I try to grab something, anything to give me purchase. Nick deepens the kiss, lifting me off my feet again. I grab his shoulders and link my ankles around his waist as he turns and carries me back to the bed.

He dumps me on the duvet and follows me down. We roll together, and he’s kissing me again. As welcomes go, this is turning out to be up there in my top ten ever. I must keep him waiting more often. There again, perhaps not…

He breaks the kiss, but only for a moment. Just long enough to pull me into a sit and slip my jacket off my shoulders. I reach to unbutton my blouse, but his fingers are there ahead of mine. He opens the front, pulls the two halves apart to reveal my low-cut, lacy bra.

“Christ, I love your underwear. I must remember to leave it on you more often.” He slips my blouse away then starts to unfasten my jeans. “Lift up.”

I lift my bum to help him slide them down, and soon I’m lying on his duvet, in just my best lacy matching bra and pants, watching Nick Hardisty undress. This is a rare treat. Usually I’m naked and he’s fully dressed, or as near as doesn’t matter. I lie back and enjoy the show.

And Nick Hardisty naked is one hell of a show. I reach for him as he lies back down alongside me, wrapping my hand around the shaft of his cock. I glance up at him, uncertain what I’m allowed to do now, but he just winks at me. “This isn’t part of your training. It’s just for fun, sweetheart. A sort of ‘welcome back’ party. There are no rules. Do whatever you like.”

I don’t need telling twice. With a wicked little grin of my own I kneel up and bend over him, taking the head of his cock in my mouth. I suck hard, as I pump my hand up and down the shaft. He hisses sharply. His cock jerks in my mouth, and in my hand. I bring the other hand in on the action too, gripping him firmly as I continue to suck him. Then I do some gentler exploring, trailing the tip of my tongue around the smooth, round head and run it through that delightful little crease under the rim. Then I lap at the droplets of semen starting to seep from the slit in the end. I love that salty taste, help myself to more before taking the head once more into my mouth.

I draw it deeper this time, right to the back of my throat, scraping my teeth along the shaft. He feels so solid, so hard under the velvet softness of his smooth skin. He’s not small, I’ve hung around the Collared and Tied club enough doing my usual voyeur stuff to be able to compare. And when he buries himself inside me he stretches me to my absolute limits. This is one of the few times, though, that I’ve been able to explore, really explore and admire him. At my own pace, in my own way. On the previous occasions he’s allowed me free access to his body I’ve either been too nervous to properly savor the experience, or under instruction. Now it’s just me, pleasing myself. And him, too, if the soft moans are any indication.

I love the sense of power, the heady realization that I can affect him to even a fraction of the extent that he affects me. I reach down, cupping his balls. They tighten in my hand. He must be close to coming, so I grip him lightly with my teeth and suck harder, using my other hand to grip and caress his shaft. I stretch my fist around it, holding him tight, my strokes hard and fast, my fingers not quite long enough to complete the circle.

I hear him mutter, “Fuck… Want to come inside you. Please, Freya…?” This is the first time he’s actually asked me, begged me to fuck him. I love it. I kneel up and catch my thumbs in the elastic of my thong-style panties, intending to remove them fast. But not fast enough for Nick Hardisty, it seems. He surges up and I’m on my back, my legs spread wide. He deftly slips the crotch of my panties to one side and enters me, hard and fast. He comes a few moments later. The semen spurts from him and fills me, hot and slippery and quite, quite wonderful.

He couldn’t wait. For the first time, he just couldn’t wait, couldn’t control himself. He’s just as much a slut as I am, and I fully intend to point that out to him. Eventually. For now, I’m fully occupied as he pulls out of me, and, with a muttered apology about not waiting for me, he slips my panties off properly this time. I reach behind me to unclasp my bra, and the gesture is not lost on him.

“May I?” His polite inquiry is all about yesterday, as he asks me if I’m happy for him to touch my nipples.

I smile and nod, before lying back in absolute contentment as he takes my left nipple between his thumb and finger and squeezes it gently. This is so different from the harshness of yesterday. This is perfect, sublime. My now empty pussy is clenching wildly, and I want him inside me again. He’s in no apparent hurry, though, leaning in to take my right nipple between his teeth as he continues to roll the other one between his fingers. Just as he knew exactly how to create perfect agony yesterday, he knows how to bring me to fever pitch today. I’m just wondering if I might come just from this alone, when he slides his free hand between my legs, slipping between the slick, wet folds where his semen mixes with my own juices. He circles my entrance with his fingertip then slips just one finger deep inside. It’s not enough, not nearly enough. I arch under him, squeezing and wriggling as I try to increase the friction.

“Easy, sweetheart. Let
me
do this. I’m going to make you come so many times you’ll forget your own name.”

So I do. I simply lie still, my legs spread wide, as he works my pussy with his clever, skilled fingers. He avoids my clit at first, concentrating on adding first one, then another finger to the one already plunging deep inside me. I reach up and grasp the bars on the bed head as I cling on tight. And when he does, eventually, rub his thumb hard and fast across my throbbing clit I swear I do indeed forget my name. I’m hard pressed to remember to even breathe at that moment, and I suspect I may not have, as fireworks explode in my head.

At last, the pyrotechnics behind my eyes come to a smoldering end. I drag in a welcome and long overdue slug of oxygen as I open my eyes to find his deep gray gaze inches from mine.

“It’s good to see you, Freya.” His smile is sexy and wicked and full of promise.

Not done yet, then, it seems.

Sure enough, “Keep your hands where they are and don’t let go. I’ll be back.”

With an easy, relaxed movement he rolls off the bed and strolls out of the room.
Christ, he has one seriously great arse
. Despite my obedient demeanor, my thoughts are distinctly unsubmissive as I wait for him to come back. And when he re-enters the room a couple of minutes later, it’s all I can do not to drool. He’s been to the dungeon and raided his collection of sex toys. I spot a dildo—vibrating, I hope. And a pair of small weighted eggs, definitely vibrating. A peculiar horseshoe-shaped gadget puzzles me, as does a string of five or six beads. And, of course, the small bottle of vanilla oil. He tosses the whole lot on the bed next to me.

“Any requests? Or will you leave it up to me?”

I let go of my death grip on the bed head just long enough to point to him. He smiles, but says nothing. No words needed now. Except… I blow him a kiss. He looks surprised, and blows it back. I shake my head quickly, and blow it back at him. Now he looks puzzled. It’s clear I’m trying to signal him.

Suddenly, he gets it. “Permission to come? You’re asking permission to come.”

I nod, hopeful. I’m ready to resume my training, I really am, and I’ve sorted out my wobble of earlier. But tomorrow will be soon enough. Surely. Tonight I’m just hoping he’ll let me have fun. And it seems that he’s of the same mind.

“Permission granted. In fact, it’s compulsory. Now, where shall we start?”

We start with the dildo, which he slides smoothly into my wet and welcoming pussy. It’s not as long as Nick’s cock, but wider, designed to stretch, intended to be tight. He flicks the switch, and the gentle ripples start to roll along my inner walls. My eyes open wide, and I gasp. This is—powerful, intense. And absolutely fabulous. Nick leans in to brush his lips across mine then steadies to deepen the kiss. His tongue is tangling with mine, his upper body angled across me to hold me still, forcing me to home in on the hypnotic rhythm at my core. And the moment I relax into it, he drops his hand to once more flick and rub my clit. My orgasm is on me in seconds, and this time I’m clenching and convulsing wildly around the hard, smooth, rippling presence filling me, the friction against my inner walls almost unbearable.

As quickly as it hit me, the intense climax passes. Seconds later I’m again still, and almost mesmerized by the continuous pulsing inside me. With a smile, Nick reaches down to hit the off switch, and slowly pulls the huge dildo from my channel. My eyes flicker open momentarily as I feel suddenly empty. Not for long, though. Next he slips the weighted eggs inside, and these are also vibrating, activated by a remote control he tosses onto the bedside table. Positioning himself on the pillows, leaning back against the headboard, Nick grins down at me. “Assume the position, girl.”

His tone is gentle, teasing, and for once I know I have a choice. He’ll spank me, but only if I want it. And I do want it. Christ, do I want it.

I gingerly wriggle onto my knees, each movement sending the weights tumbling around inside me. I grip the eggs tight, clenching my inner muscles around them, sure they’ll just roll out if I don’t. I manage to stretch myself across Nick’s legs, my bare bottom raised slightly. I’m panting, near fainting with anticipation. I shiver in contentment as he massages my buttocks, loving the feel of his hard cock against the side of my waist. His erection, so solid, and all for me. Soon.

The first slap is just perfect. Absolutely exquisite. And the next and the next. I’m counting silently, my bottom warming beautifully as he places each stroke perfectly, covering my tender skin with his handprints. I want it harder. I need to feel the burn. I wriggle again, and he gets it. The force of the blows increases, just a little, but enough, and with each one that lands those gorgeous little eggs shift and roll and send their darts of pleasure straight to my clit, my nipples, everywhere. I’m just one wriggling, writhing mass of sensitized nerve endings, every single one twitching for the next thrilling sizzle of pleasure, the next sharp, erotic tingle that could send me off again into a mindless frenzy of forgetting my name and dissolving in a slick puddle of need across his knees.

I don’t do that, though. Instead, Nick pushes me deep down into sub-space, the steady, relentless spanking releasing the endorphins that flood my body and cause that temporary drugged state where I’m floating, other-worldly, here, but not here. I lie still, boneless, absorbing the sensual bite of his palm as he takes me to that place and holds me there, before slowly pulling me back in.

“Freya. Can you hear me, sweetheart?”

I shake my head, my hands clenching and stretching as my senses return. My hearing comes back first. His low voice is murmuring against my ear. “Open your eyes, love. It’s time to come back.”

I frown, resisting, and can hear the chuckle in his voice.

“Okay. But you’ll not want to miss this.”

He lifts me, repositioning me but this time I’m face down. He lifts my bum up, bending me knees to keep my bottom high. He shifts my knees, placing them as far apart as they’ll go. I offer no resistance, and can only clench my inner muscles uselessly as he gently slips his fingers inside me to retrieve the eggs. Like the dildo before, I don’t relinquish my treasures easily, but he insists and I’m too lazy to put up a fight. And when he slides his middle finger deep into my arse, I’m too lazy to resist that too, even if I wanted to. I don’t, and my senses start to re-gather fast as he finger-fucks me.