Iron Dominance (16 page)

Confused, quaking inside, she straightened as he’d commanded, rising up on her legs from where she’d hunkered down while they’d cuddled. The bumpy ground under the picnic rug poked into her knees.
What did he have in mind
? At least, she noticed with relief, there were no ropes.

He pressed her chin up and rearranged a part of the jacket. She couldn’t see exactly what, but, straining her eyes, she saw him unclip something and remove a piece from the middle section; then the front straps were pulled in snug across her front.

Aha. Now she knew why the thing had so many buckles and straps going in every which direction. Devious indeed.

“This garment is from the same place as the corset you wore last night.”

“It is?” She tried to look down.

He caught her chin, stopped her. “Uh-uh. No.”

Just that…
holding
made her clit warm a degree more.

Metal jingled, and the edges of the jacket pulled together, tightened around the sides of her breasts, squeezing them together.

“The pressure, though light, will increase the pleasure you get from
this
.” He brushed a nipple, and she jumped.

“You may look.”

What did he do
? Two buckled straps crossed tightly over her chest. One cut above and one below her breasts, squeezing them together between what remained of the left and right flaps of the jacket, making her breasts look and feel far plumper than ever before. Her nipples scrunched up hard as pebbles. It wasn’t just the feeling, as if her breasts had become small balloons; it was the look of it and knowing that this was how he wanted them to be. Exposed. Emphasizing her sexuality.

She breathed faster, deeper.

“Now, some more food.” He retrieved a grape, bit the red globe open, and pressed the cut surface to her nipple. She gasped. Cold, and it made her nipple protrude even more.

He watched her, crinkles appearing around his eyes.

He liked doing this to her, and that made her even hotter…knowing, feeling his approval. Then he leaned in and kissed her, sucking her lower lip into his mouth while that grape scooted in cool lazy circles across her nipple. The fingers of his other hand skirted her clit and made their way along her wet slit. She lost sight of him, knew her eyes closed as sensation swallowed her. Her nether lips parted under his finger. Swelled. Behind her eyelids, her world had gone muted yellow, but she knew he watched. He kissed her again. The smell of her arousal mingled with the sweetness of fruit in his mouth.

His tongue swept into her mouth, played slippery warm games with her tongue. Lust ripened. Her breasts, squashed up into firm melons, thumped with blood, as if she’d grown new nerve paths. Her moistened nipples felt so tight they might have been forged in iron. The brush of his hand or shirt on her made her utter little uncontrolled noises of pleasure.

He backed away a small amount, leaving only that finger in her cleft. She thrust to gain more of his touch, needing that pressure. She looked up, saw him. Always, he watched her, carefully, as if she was something precious.

“Don’t move.” He swiped that finger, slick as treacle, along her labia and past her clit, took it away.

Ah!

Swaying, she fought to steady her breathing. The sexual games were intoxicating.

He bowed his head until he was close to her cheek again. “Time for a distraction.” He moved lower. His wet mouth fastened over her nipple and sucked it in—liquid heat spread like fire. Her bound breasts, her clit, her cleft—all throbbed in time to the suction and licking of his mouth.

She stiffened, bowing her back and hissing though her teeth, her hands instinctively grabbing hold of his biceps and digging in with all fingernails.

“Better,” he added. “Much better. There’s no point in coming all the way out here and remaining sad for the rest of the day, is there? You, my dear, need sex.” He tweaked her left nipple. “Yes?”

She couldn’t deny that, not when it seemed he’d connected every part of her with electrified wiring and turned on the power. Her body
hummed
, waiting for his next move. “Mmm.”

“Excellent.” His gray eyes glinted. “Put your arms together behind you. Clasp each forearm at the elbow with the other hand. Now, dear.”

Oh, heck.

Whatever he wanted, she knew it would set her alight. She did as he asked, and he went around behind her. Holding her arms there, at the small of her back, made her breasts push out even more, making them protrude so much she wondered they didn’t pop from the tension. If there were birds and bees out there, she couldn’t hear them. The thump of blood in her arteries and heavy sigh of her lungs had come to the fore. And the clink of buckle and slide of leather fed into the growing tightness along her arms, from wrists to elbows, where they lined up against each other. She couldn’t separate them. He was buckling them together, no other explanation possible.

More straps. Restraining me.

Lord
. This, then, was the control he’d spoken of. Not utter and complete—she could move—but closer than he’d taken her before. Every part of her sang like a soprano on the highest note and came alive. Theo bit her neck. Electricity swept sizzling through her, from top to bottom.
Yes. Oh, God, yes…

“Hinchcliff and Co. do make very nice clothing. I think you’ll agree?”

She half-groaned out her reply. “Yes.”

She looked down at herself, where her breasts jutted out, and felt wetness seeping from between her legs, near where her buttocks rested on her heels. She was naked except for the jacket and pushed-down leggings. The buckles above and below her breasts made them and her nipples stick out and ache. She struggled a bit, tried to free her arms. Nothing gave.

Heat pulsed, vibrating from everywhere, becoming one unified throb that threatened to turn her into jelly. Theo resumed biting her neck. She couldn’t do anything to stop him—even her legs were trapped by where the leggings were wound around them at her knees. She panted, wanting him between her legs.

“You tied me,” she blurted hoarsely, amazed at her own reactions. Why, oh why, did this make her so
hot?

“Not really. No ropes.”

Mmm
. But almost the same. He’d found a middle ground that she liked. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her, trusted him not to—maybe that was the difference?

He set her straight, held her shoulders a second or two to make sure she balanced properly, then moved away and lay down.

With his eyes lit up with amusement, Theo rested on his elbow regarding her. He was still clothed, though his erection pressed at his pants hard enough to show a clear outline.

“This is so much better. Ropes are nice, but I think this could be worth exploring in the future.”

How casually he assumed power. She wanted him so much, and he lay there—cool and calm.

She remembered where they were. “Mightn’t someone see us?” she said thickly.
What is he doing over there
? She wanted his touch.

“No. And if they did? Would you mind?”

“I…don’t know.” She shocked herself with that answer. If someone saw her, like this, exposed—oh, that excited her even more.

He rose to his feet and efficiently stripped off his clothes, removing his trousers last. She couldn’t help staring at his erection, recalling what it had been like in her mouth. Her pussy squeezed as he walked toward her, the hard muscles of his chest, abdomen, and thighs shifting enticingly.

Why she wanted this, she didn’t know, but the allure of being restrained was obvious now, even to her. Her body heat climbed to inferno level.

“I’d like to put this”—he put his fist around the base of his cock—“in there, inside those soft lips. Wet your lips and open your mouth.”

He wanted to…fuck her mouth. She squeezed her thighs tight together, swept her tongue over her lips, and opened her mouth.

The soft tip of him nudged her and then pressed in until the hardness of his shaft entered. She moved her tongue around, feeling him out, welcoming him in. Then she felt him slide farther, farther, and the tip touch the back of her throat.

“I’ll be gentle.” His voice was tight. “Ahh, yes.” A thrill ran along his penis, and she felt it twitch. He halted.

Even with her hands strapped behind her, she felt in some control of his pleasure and explored him, swirling with her moist tongue.

Steadily, he thrust in and out of her mouth, gripping her shoulder and head. She tasted saltiness and the sweetness of the grape juice from where his fingers had touched his cock.

He slowed, drew back to her lips with just the head inside.

“Enough.” He withdrew, his cock popping wet from her mouth. This time, he was the one gasping. She looked up at him from beneath her brows and lazily curved her tongue across her lips. Daring him.

“Ha.” He laughed throatily. “You’re getting too cheeky. Your turn.”

Returning with the cushions, he dumped them at her feet. The strength in his arms surprised her as he tilted her back, arranging the cushions under her neck, back, and bottom until her lower body arched upward, her arms trapped under her, though padded by the soft cushions. He’d slipped her leggings lower, wrapping them about her ankles like soft manacles. If she’d felt exposed before…now she was blatantly on display. Coolness licked her skin.

Openmouthed, lips bruised, tongue still remembering his taste, she stared at Theo standing over her and wondered what he meant to do. Whatever it was, she could barely move in any direction.

She shivered and felt a fresh tide of moisture flood her pussy.

He spread her knees so her legs opened. “Stay like that, Claire. I want to see all of you.”

He put his hand down there. Two of his fingers touched her turgid lips, moving her juices along her slit, then over her aching clit. She gasped and tensed. His fingers lifted away, and she heard him kneel by her side, then felt his fingers anointing her nipples with her own juices, his hands wrapping around each swollen breast as if they were fruit he could pluck.

She strained, lifting her head to watch for a few seconds. All she could see was her squashed-together breasts and Theo.

He rose up from his knees and kissed each nipple, laying his warm tongue on each, then licking across. So sensitive—she groaned and felt the tiny bumps on his tongue trail over her. She flopped her head back and thrust up her groin. Releasing one breast, he found her pussy, one finger slip-sliding inside her to its full length. Her muscles clamped on him, pulsing at the slide and tug. His other fingers, she lost count of how many, pressed in, stretching her.

“Ah. Ah.” She moaned to the sky, mouth so open her jaw hurt. “More.”

He lifted his lips from her breast, his fingers slipped from her pussy. “No talking.”

“Uh.” Blindly, she nodded agreement. Anything to get him to resume all the things he did to her body.

The renewed rhythm of fingers and tongue brought her, shaking, like the ratcheting upward of a chain, to the sweaty hot edge. When his thumb slid onto her erect clit, she thrust the tip of her tongue out. The slickness, the slip and slide inside, and the gentle twirl of thumb on her clit… With a small gasp and a scream, she let go. Exploding pleasure welded her body into one rigid arch of muscle, her pussy locking tight on to his fingers.
Yes!

Sunlight blanched like white fire through her eyelids.

When she felt her heartbeat slow and her lungs calm, she opened her eyes to a slit to find Theo smiling down at her.

“Now that was something wonderful to watch. Happy?”

The words to answer him were lost in a dazed jumble in her mind.

“My turn,” he said with a predatory glint in his eye. Again he arranged her body, turning her over so her ass was in the air, her face on its side against a cushion. “How are your arms? Sore? Numb?”

Half-lost in memories of orgasm, she opened and closed her hands, abruptly reminded of the grip of buckle and leather around her. Nothing gave. Nothing seemed numb. She chose not to speak and shook her head. It would be sacrilege to speak. Her temples still thudded with the pounding of blood.

With an open hand, he slapped her bottom, sending a jolt of pleasure to her loins, and she grunted, unable to stop the instinctive arch of her bottom upward. Already her body stirred.

“I’ll take that as a
yes, I’m perfectly happy
?” He put that hand back and massaged. “Your bottom is so nicely made for smacking.”

She knew she should glare back at him for that smug tone, but couldn’t—her body quivered with expectation. Ahh, that a simple smack could do this to her. She wished he’d do it again.

She buried her face in the cushion, blocking out light and turning the world into one of pure feel and smell. And the ripe, rich smell of lust thickened the air.

His hands gripped each cheek of her ass; then instead of his cock, something flicked across her sensitive clit and up along her slit. His tongue. Her fists clenched and loosened. With his tongue playing slither and glide across her labia and clit, slowly, he drove her back into arousal. Whenever she tensed as if about to come, he drew back for a few moments, until she was biting the cushion in frustration, her fists closed, her bottom straining up for more.

She lost track of how many times he did this, and then, to her surprise, instead of his tongue, the blunt stretch at her opening told her his cock demanded entrance. With a body-jarring
thump
, he went all the way in—a savage thrust into her wet tunnel. She gasped.
Oh. My. God
. And again. His flesh slapped against her, stretching her vagina fully at the zenith of each thrust. She lay there accepting everything he gave her, loving it, wanting to take him in to the very limit.

The cushions rocked under her to the movement of her body. She knew she grunted and moaned with each lunge, but nothing mattered. If anyone saw, she didn’t care. Something grabbed her clit.
Ah
, his finger, his thumb, and they squeezed in time to his thrusts.

Too much
. She crested a wave about to break, gasping, poised and straining, at the very heart-pounding edge.