Iron Dominance (22 page)

He walked up until she heard him next to her head, and he stroked her cheek, kissed her lips. His larger mouth enclosed hers, and meekly, she let him open her with his hard tongue, then roughly toy with her lips and tongue. She wondered if he meant to suck the life from her. Any more of these devices, and she’d be unable to walk for days. Her core clamped down, tight. She wanted something inside her.

“That,” he said, finally answering her question, “is what Henry calls a reciprocating sexual probe.”

“What does it do?” she asked, her voice coming out low and ragged. Damn, she’d forgotten again. “Sir.”

“It vibrates. You. And ever so nicely.” Ample amusement colored his words.

“Then perhaps,” she said sarcastically, “you should call it a vibrator.”

“Hmm. I’ll tell him that. But first, your cheekiness gets punished.” He pinched both nipples, hard.

“Ow!” Warmth flared—the pain swiftly changed to something more as sensation homed in on her clit.

“I’m going to raise you up,” he told her. “You’ll be safe. Ready?”

Safe? She nodded, biting her lip, still uneasy.

He kissed her lips again, briefly. A chain mechanism ratcheted slowly, and her torso rose into the air. With her ankles spread and anchored and her wrists tied to the headboard, her spine arched. The straps about her torso tightened as they bore weight, and she felt the support of a padded board running under her back. Her neck and legs curved downward toward the bed.

She heard Theo climb up and stand on the bed.

“Is that hurting you anywhere? Your neck?”

Was it? She felt exposed. Her breasts, her pussy up in the air. She could move even less than before, but…no pain.

“No.”
Remember! Remember
! “Uh. Sir.” She shivered, imagining his eyes on her, as he stared at her naked, at her sex.
Oh, I like that idea, very much.

“Good.” He rested his palm on her stomach. “And now, I’m going to do whatever I like to you.”

Said so calmly, so confidently, the words echoed inside her. She quivered, anticipating. Pulled at her bonds again, breathing hard and fast. He could do anything. And she couldn’t stop him. Every inch of her, from head to her curling-up toes, quaked.

The softest of touches, at her lips—his finger inserted slowly into her mouth. She heaved a shuddering breath, her pussy tingling, licked his finger, sucking him. He withdrew and, with that fingertip, trailed a cool shivery path across her lower lip and downward across her neck, then curving round the swell of her breast, into belly button, and slowly, at last, reaching her clit, though he skimmed past the side. One finger plunged into her moist slit. Another finger, thick with moisture, touched her other hole.

“Oh.” She squeezed down there.

“You have to relax, Claire.”

“I’m not—” She wriggled, but his fingertip stayed put. With all the stimulation, even that felt good. The fingertip inched in farther.

“Let’s see if you like this.”

The finger pushed, and as if it pumped blood into her clitoris, she felt the hood retract as her sensitive button engorged and tingled.

“Mmm. Oh.” Different, awkward, but pleasurable.

His other hand curved around her breast and gripped it. He covered her nipple with his hot mouth. She made an odd sound—half squeak, half grunt. His tongue licked across and away, then to her other nipple, and back. His finger teased the nipple his mouth didn’t attend to. She tried to pull her legs up and grind against his hand, and couldn’t. Her back stayed arched and fixed there, available. Open. Her body wasn’t hers anymore. It was his.

She needed, wanted, and all those things he did to her were driving her to trembling mindlessness. With her head upside down, blood rushed in, thumping.

“Let’s try something else new.” He left her unattended a moment, only to return and touch something slippery yet hard to her anus and slowly insert it.

“Ah!” She writhed and found nothing helped. The thing moved farther in, widening her, burning. Once past the entrance it plopped inside her. Seated there. The uncomfortable feeling churned and settled.

“That will stretch you.”

The buzzing started. She tensed, feeling the new thing in her anus, then the vibrator slipping into her vagina. Hard and unyielding, her muscles clasped it, released. The vibrations traveled to her clit, and tension built. She inhaled, hard, her mouth staying open; the vessels at the sides of her neck felt enormous, pulsing with her heartbeats. Her head filled to bursting, every muscle strained, taking her up, up, and then his mouth covered her clit and sucked. She screamed and came in a wailing crescendo.

Coming down, subsiding from the crest, with her arms, her neck, her legs, relaxing…he sucked again and tongued the bulging nub between her legs. His fingers stroked her swollen nipples. Another wave of orgasm hit, flooding her, unrelenting. This time she could only let out a thin screech that went on and on until he released the wet grasp of his lips on her.

With the blackness over her eyes, she hung there, lost in an infinite throbbing space, punctuated only by the thud of heartbeats and the softness of gasping.

“My turn.”

Dizzied, she could make no sense of the words at first.

The thing in her anus slipped free, the loss replaced a few moments later with a soft prodding as the head of his cock touched her there. She felt the rim of her anus expand and take him in, then the slow progression up inside. A dilating, an almost burning, that transformed into fullness. She groaned. The vibrator in her pussy had never stopped, and now every nerve ending wriggled in time with it.

* * *

Theo stared down at Claire, transfixed by the beauty of her laid out with her arms outstretched and legs spread open, for him to take as he wished. She’d given in to him. Watching her be swamped by the joys he’d shown her was an incredible experience. Almost as good as burying his cock inside her. He pushed forward, watched his member slide into her anus, slow as treacle, slippery with the cream he’d applied. Her cleft glistened with moisture. The base of the vibrator jiggled in her vagina. As he built up a rhythm, he pressed on the vibrator. The tremors came through her flesh to his cock, and he butted into the thing at the deepest point of his thrusts.

Nice. So darn tight
. Claire raised her head for a few seconds, neck straining, as if she could see him through the blindfold. Her mouth gaped open as she sucked in air; then her head sagged back down. Her inner muscles seized on him. Her breasts shifted as he reamed her. Not too hard—he didn’t want to hurt her, and she might not register an injury until too late. He’d taken her to the very top.

Sweat beaded on her breasts. The veins in her neck stood out, and she sighed and groaned with every thrust, the muscles at the fronts of her thighs tensing and relaxing. Her nipples poked up like pink buttons. Next time, he’d put clamps on her. With that thought, his balls swelled and felt as heavy as lead.

Her breathing accelerated. Would she come again? Thumbing her clit, his other hand cupping her bottom, he grunted and slid back in.

“Ahh!” Her beautiful scream set him off.

The coiling tension took over; he shoved into her to the hilt, his legs pushing. Every muscle strained, shoved. His balls squeezed up so tight they might’ve been rocks. He grunted. His cock pulsed as he released into her, jetting, then twitching.
Yes
. He shut his eyes, then opened them to slits, devouring the sight of her body sagging with the aftermath of an orgasm.
Time to let her go
. He shifted a little, slipped the vibrator from her cleft, turned it off, and dropped it to the bed. He pulled back, his cock slipping out. She gasped. Gradually his ragged breathing came down to almost normal.

His hands smoothed along the contours of her belly; then he went to the crank and lowered her to the bed. The straps and ties came off. She barely moved.

“We’re done, Claire.”

Her eyes opened when he took off the blindfold, blinking at him through those long blonde lashes. He kissed her forehead, then collapsed beside her, snuggling her body up to his, her head in the corner of shoulder and arm.

“How was that? Happy?” he whispered.

She stirred a little, heaved a sigh. “Mmm. Tell you…later.”

He propped himself up on his elbow and watched her eyes close, her breathing become shallow and regular. Ah. How could he even think of losing her? Maybe…maybe this one was a keeper? He fingered a strand of her hair.

Chapter Seventeen

After having a quick bath himself, Theo had watched her from the door of the bathroom for a while, as if he thought she’d sink beneath the soapsuds and drown in the bath. Not a chance, Claire thought. Life was too good, too amazing right now, for her to go and drown. No matter how worn out she felt. And oh, Lord, everywhere ached or throbbed. She even had bruises on her wrists and ankles where the straps had been. Not from Theo putting them on too tight; no, she’d bruised from her own straining during orgasm. Several uncountable fricking orgasms.

Overcome for a moment by remembering, she slid underwater and let the muffling sounds of the water soothe her.

It was strange—to have done all those intimate and plain bizarre things with a man. Yet sex that way had been so much more wonderful than she’d thought it could be. An earthquake had shaken the foundations of her universe—an amazing, stupendous earthquake.

She rose from the scented water, let it stream off her body, and looked down at the pink-tipped mounds of her breasts, wondering at how Theo saw her.

Having dried herself and dressed in an apricot negligee and satin gown, she ventured into the hallway and down to the bedroom. Theo sat reading at one end of a sofa set at an angle near the huge bay window. Night had fallen. Insects tapped against the glass as they tried in vain to enter. On the table in front of him was a covered plate, a carafe of orange juice, glasses, and a bottle of red wine. A graceful flower-shaped voltaic lamp shone a blue circle of light upon the table. He lifted the cover off the plate, revealing a meal still steaming with heat.

“Please, sit and eat, Claire.” He indicated the sofa next to him. “Charcoal-grilled pigeon, olives, and dolmades—stuffed vine leaves. I’ve already eaten.”

“Oh. Thank you.” The common courtesies seemed even more ridiculous than before. “Am I supposed to call you, uh, sir?”

“I like the sound of it, but…no. Only in public or”—he regarded her evenly—“when we make love. Sit.” He patted the sofa next to him, then smiled.

She slid in next to him. As soon as her thigh touched his, she felt anchored. The world was in its rightful place. The food looked delicious, and her stomach grumbled.

Though he continued to read as she ate, he rested a hand near her shoulders and idly caressed her. When finished she pushed away the plate.

The bed had been tidied up—the quilt pulled straight and all that
equipment
put away somewhere out of sight. Not long ago she’d been stretched out there with Theo making love to her.

“What is it?” Theo massaged her back, leaned in and kissed her cheek, then settled back and waited, still massaging.

“Does”—she took a breath—“everyone have sex like that? Like we did?” She looked sidelong at him. The corners of his lips twitched upward. “Is it always that wonderful?”

“Hmm. No, perhaps to the second. Definitely a no to the first. So, you liked it?”

She shut her eyes a second. Sent back in time to how she’d felt, how she’d surrendered to him. “Yes. I did.”

“No regrets?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“No. None. Though”—she held up her wrists, turning them to show the bruises—“this I could do without.”

“Ah.” He sat up and examined her, kissed her skin. “I’m sorry. Next time I’ll use more padding.”

Next time. Inexplicably, that saddened her. How many more next times would there be? The lie she’d told ground at her. He was such a good man, if she’d told him first off, she was an assassin…maybe? If only there was some way to be sure of what he’d do
before
she told him.

When would she ever feel totally comfortable and safe?

She sniffed.

“You look sad. Is it hurting that much?” Theo gently touched her wrist.

“No. It’s not that. I’m just tired.”

“Tired, we can fix. Here, lie back on me.” He moved to put his leg along the sofa, with his back at the corner of the armrest, and let her snuggle into the space between his legs.

So warm and big. She felt safe, protected, and a tear rolled down her cheek. She let it, didn’t touch her face or sniff, and held in all the other tears so he wouldn’t know. Theo kept reading, the paper held up before him and to the right where she too could see it. After a while the sadness ebbed away. The words on the page coalesced.

“What is that?” she asked. Though really, she knew what it was, just not what he intended to do with it.
A study of the Frankenstruct
. Her heart beat faster. “You’re reading about me.”

He lowered the page. “Well, about frankenstructs in general.”

“Why?” She prayed the answer wouldn’t be a bad one. Was this that awful fate rolling in to get her? Her hands curled into fists.

“I’m putting forth a bill in parliament, proposing that frankenstructs be declared human and thus given all the rights of humans. We have to repeal another bill first, though. Hey, what’s this?” He took her closed hand in his, raised it, and kissed her until she relaxed. “It’s nothing for you to worry over. But it is important. Next week I fly down to speak on it before the members.

“You know, the report you wrote—it’s been used in part to set out this.”

“Could I help? Could I read this? Maybe I can tell you things that are missing or…wrong?”

He barely hesitated, and that was the best part. “Claire, that sounds like a good idea. Go ahead. If you want to write notes on it, there’s a pen on the table.” He laid the papers in her lap. “Even better, I’ll let you read the speech. This is important to me. I see it as a great injustice. You do understand that?”

“Yes.” She turned and smiled at him. “Thank you.” She kissed him on the mouth—a warm, soft kiss that he returned in the same way, their lips meeting as equals.