Naked & Unleashed (4 page)

“I understand,” she said.

“Sixty minutes.” His hands tightened around her biceps before he pushed her away.

Her shins struck the edge of the mattress and she lost her balance, landing on her knees and jerking to fling out her hands, to catch herself. She couldn’t move her arms. Mikal held her elbows tight to her sides and let her fall face-down on the bed.

He moved lightning-quick, seizing her ankles and dragging her body around in an arc. Her nipples rubbed across the fine cotton weave of the bed linens and stiffened to near-painful peaks stabbing against the mattress. Cold metal touched her ankles, went away, and Mikal moved her again, dragging her in a different direction. She clutched at the bed covering but lost her grip as he pulled her hard into a new position. Callista lost track of where she was in relation to objects in the room and a wave of dizziness struck behind the dark layers of the blindfold.

The metal sensation returned to break through her vertigo. Every muscle in her body locked up tight and in the sudden absence of motion, she could hear her own heartbeat, heavy and fast in her ears. Mikal was silent. She couldn’t even detect his breathing over the rapid, harsh bursts of air from her own lungs. One moment, she tracked him by the brace he clamped around her right ankle. The next, she knew his position by the way he pulled her legs wide and locked her left ankle into place.

Even though he’d warned her he would bind her limbs, a wave of panic washed over her. Callista shoved up on her hands and locked her arms. “Wait—ahhh!”

The sharp crack of leather on flesh startled her into a shriek a split second before the sting set in. Fire erupted across her back, punishing her with a burning line of pain.

“Down. Now.” Mikal slapped her left arm with the flat of his palm. “I told you to hold yourself still.”

Panting, she squeezed her eyes shut behind the blindfold and sank down onto the bed. “I didn’t know you were going to hit me,” she gasped.

“I’m going to do a lot of things to you, lover, and you’ll thank me very sweetly for every one. Starting now.” He raked his blunt fingernails across the strip of flesh he’d abused, reviving the dulling pain to something acute. “You can thank me for protecting you from harm.”

Callista flinched away from his touch and lowered herself back to the bed. The idea of thanking him both galled and excited her. The words felt silly and stupid in the back of her mouth.

“I’m waiting.”

Stomach aflutter with fear that she’d say the wrong thing or he’d laugh at her, she half hoped he wouldn’t hear her as she whispered, “Thank you for protecting me from harm.”

“You’re welcome. The next time you address me, you will address me as Master.” There was no hint of laughter in his tone. He took her left hand and pulled her arm out at an angle. Metal encircled her ankles but he fastened something supple around her wrist.

Supple, but no less unforgiving in tension. Callista tested the security of the binding by trying to bend her elbow but Mikal had the left side of her body stretched taut. While she rolled the word “Master” around in her mind, he moved to the other side of the bed and secured her right wrist. And she was suddenly, thoroughly at his mercy.

Searching for a drop of calm in her sea of anxious arousal, she pushed her face against the bed and drew deep, slow breaths. Mikal moved around her but he was quiet and she had to listen hard to track him. In context of space and time, she had only herself as a starting point. She sensed him to her right and down by her feet but couldn’t place him in proximity to the knife. Did he already have it in his hand? Was he studying her naked body in search of a place to start?

Something cold touched the exposed sole of her left foot and she jumped.

Mikal slapped her calf. “Control your reflexes, Callista. ‘Hold still’ means no movement at all.”

Intellectually she understood the reason for his rule. One twitch on her part could mean serious injury once he applied the knife to her flesh. Intellect had little to do with anything now though. How could she control her deepest responses when she had no way to anticipate what she’d be forced to endure from one minute to the next?

He touched her again, a cold point against her heel. She drove all her willpower to that spot and held her breath, waiting for him to strike or admonish her again. A beat later, he drew a barely there line from her heel to the arch of her foot. Her eyeballs ached, she squeezed them so tightly closed, but she didn’t flinch even when he kept going and crossed her most ticklish spot.

“Good. Exactly like that.” He removed the point, leaving her skin sensitive and tingling.

The sound of a zipper provided a small distraction. The zipper hissed too long to be his fly. He must’ve opened the case he’d carried into the room. Mikal didn’t give her time to contemplate the case’s contents.

“There’s an art to using a knife. The hilt should fit the hand correctly. Length and weight need to be something the wielder is able to control without straining the wrist. The edge should always be very, very sharp. But you know about the importance of sharp edges, don’t you?” He ran his hand up her leg from ankle to thigh and stopped with his thumb pressing into a taut tendon as if testing the resilience.

She swallowed. She did know about sharp edges. Her nerve endings fired with awareness and anticipation. Mikal’s hand was so close to her pussy, she could vividly imagine the thrust of his fingers into her wet channel. But he wasn’t there to fuck her.

“Tell me about edges.” Steel touched her flesh, heavy against the back of her knee.

She dragged a ragged breath into her lungs and tried to concentrate on not moving. Dull or sharp, the knife could do serious damage to the spot he’d chosen.

“Callista. Tell me.” He scraped the knife over her skin, up and down the sensitive hollow, just like he would if he was spreading frosting across a tender layer of cake.

“Edges.” She barely dared to move her lips. “It’s important to keep them sharp.”

He took the knife away, leaving her strangely cold in its absence. “‘It’s important to keep them sharp’ what?”

Her stomach lurched, rebelling at the response he wanted.

“Say it.” He smacked her ass with the flat of his palm.

“Master! It’s important to keep them sharp,
Master
.”

Mikal rewarded her compliance by returning the blade to her flesh. He scraped down the back of her thigh with short, light strokes, the same way she would apply a razor to remove hair. The pressure was strangely soothing.

His voice penetrated her encroaching mental fog. “Can you tell me what else is important for a knife?”

“They need to be sterile,” she murmured.

The knife’s motion stopped. “What?”

She shivered. She couldn’t help herself. “Master.”

“Yes. Sterile is important. You wouldn’t want to develop an infection or pick up a blood-borne disease if you were accidentally…” Fire licked at the crease where her thigh joined her buttocks. “Cut.”

“Ow. Ow, ow, ow. Stop.” Callista strained against her bonds and added, “Master!”

“Don’t like that after all, do you?” Mikal pressed his fingertips to the fresh wound. “It’s barely even bleeding. Just a scratch. But you thought it was a good idea to present yourself to a stranger and ask him to use a knife on you, with nothing but a safeword to protect you.”

“I made a mistake.”

“We already established that.”

Mortified by what he must think of her, she hid her face against the sheets.

He teased the curve of her hip with his knife. “Any idea what you were really looking for when you settled on this?”

She shook her head and it wasn’t exactly a lie. After the incident in his apartment earlier in the day, she’d fixated on knives, and the knife she’d imagined at her neck. But even though she realized now that cutting wasn’t what she truly wanted, she hadn’t understood that when she cooked up her scheme to find release at Bondage.
Now
she knew differently. Cutting was merely something slightly less insane than what she was really looking for.

“Well, you can keep thinking about it for the next forty minutes. I’m interested in what you come up with. For now…” He trailed off into silence and scored her flesh again.

Pain licked up her spine. Callista’s breath hissed through her clenched teeth and she arched her back, trying to escape the unforgiving edge of his knife. “Stop! I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you.”

He took the knife away and ran his palm down her thigh. “I’m listening.”

Chapter Four

I want to be raped.

Mikal stared at his hand, which rested large and powerful at the vulnerable hollow of her knee. His inner predator surged against the mental prison he’d built around it. Violent desire rocketed through him. He could almost hear the harsh, erratic rhythm of her breathing as he ran her down. Her muffled pleas for him to stop taunted his imagination. She would fight him but she was a small woman and she would lose. She’d beg and cry as he wrenched her thighs wide and rammed into her fear-slick pussy.

Exhaling slowly, he wrestled his inner monster back into its cage and carefully peeled his fingers from her flesh. Her pale skin beckoned but he forced himself to back off. A claim like that…someone in the room had to be a responsible adult, and he’d always prided himself on maintaining control even in the face of overwhelming desire. Especially in the face of a woman who needed him to be responsible for her safety.

He moved from the foot of the bed and crouched near the headboard. Her blindfold came loose with a single tug. She blinked several times even in the low light.

When her eyes focused, Mikal spoke. “Callista, tell me the truth. Are you a danger to yourself?”

She rested her cheek in the bend of her elbow. Her eyes were guarded. “Are you disgusted?”

Only with himself. Mikal took pride in his skill at bringing a bottom back to a safe reality after an emotionally and physically intense ordeal. When he did his job right, no woman in his care was concerned with the goings-on in
his
head. Her well-being came first.

He stood and paced away from the temptation Callista presented. He’d made a mistake indulging her knife-play request and upsetting the balance of equality between them. His weakness compromised what was, up until a week ago, a mutually beneficial relationship of professional service and casual sex. He didn’t want a submissive lover. Correction—he wouldn’t allow himself a submissive lover. His preferences ran to the extreme and very few submissive partners could be trusted to cope with their fear in a way that preserved his freedom while assuring their safety.

In short, he wasn’t going to prison for a woman who claimed to want him until she panicked and accused him of assault. He’d barely avoided that fate once before and refused to put himself in the same position again.

“Mikal?”

The uncertainty in her voice drew him back to the present. He shook off his old problems and focused on her. “I’m concerned. You came here with the intention of putting yourself in a stranger’s hands and you confess to a desire for real violence. If I let you walk out of here alone tonight, will I be making a mistake?”

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. “Will you untie me?”

Scraping his hands through his hair, he had to acknowledge the scene had come to an end. He was reluctant to relinquish control of her sleek little body but he couldn’t ignore the issues they needed to address.

Mikal released her ankles first. After he unfastened the cuffs at her wrists, he carefully rolled her onto her back and covered her breasts with a cloth. Taking both her hands in his, he began to gently massage her wrists. He kneaded the muscles and tendons from the bases of her palms all the way to her elbows. Gradually the tension left her arms and he moved down the bed to give her ankles and legs the same treatment.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly.

He glanced up to find her forearm draped across her face, covering her eyes. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“We had a good arrangement. Uncomplicated. I’ll give you a referral to someone else who can make you a priority and pick up where I left off. I—”

“I don’t want a referral, Callista. I want you to talk to me.”

“I told you what I…I told you.” She rolled aside and sat, swinging her feet to the floor. “There isn’t really anything else to say, except you’re wrong. I do owe you an apology. This isn’t something you should have to deal with. It’s my issue, not yours.”

Mikal checked his watch, which continued to count down the minutes remaining of the hour he’d insisted upon. “You agreed to sixty minutes. I still have twenty-three left. Your issue is mine right now because you’re mine right now.”

She held the dark sheet to her chest and slanted him a sidelong look. “I don’t want to play anymore.”

He narrowed his eyes and straightened. Prowling around the bed to stand in front of her, he grasped her chin and forced her head back. “I explained that this isn’t a game we’re
playing
. Have you forgotten that?”

Callista jerked her head but he dug his fingertips into her jaw, anchoring her in place. “No,” he said. “You’re not hiding from your choices. As your Master for the rest of this hour, I require you to talk. Tell me about wanting to be raped.”

Just saying the words out loud set him on fire. Mikal clenched his jaw and held his dark urges at bay.

Licking her lips, Callista closed her eyes. “You think I’m crazy.”

“I think I deserve clarification.
Talk
.”

“It’s…I…have a fantasy. I’m not insane.”

“Do you want to be violated or do you want to be hurt?”

She released the sheet and wrapped her hands around his wrists. “I want the fear. I want to run and scream for help and cry because nobody’s coming to save me. I know it’s fucked up. I
know
it is. But I can’t help it. I can’t…”

“You can’t stop wanting what you want,” he finished after she trailed off. “You daydream about where you’ll be when you’re attacked, about the threats he’ll make, about the weapon he’ll use.”

“Not he,” she whispered. “You.”

“Me,” he said flatly, betraying no sign of the alarm he suddenly felt. “What makes you think I’m interested in giving you what you want?”

“I’ve heard you’re…into that kind of thing.”

A fist tightened in his gut. Mikal let her go and backed away. “You’ve heard I’m into what kind of thing? Victimizing women? Assault? Rape?”

“No. Not like that. Like pretending.” She grabbed the sheet again and clutched it between her breasts. “I just…I wasn’t digging for information about you. I have a friend who knows someone you used to be involved with. When I mentioned to my friend that you’re one of my clients…it’s not true, is it? I’ve insulted you and made a fool of myself.”

Callista averted her face and slid from the bed. She sank to the floor and started gathering her clothes. Staring at the naked line of her back and her bare ass offered up to him, he lost the battle with his self-control.

“You’re still mine,” he muttered, unzipping his pants. “Seventeen minutes.”

She froze on her hands and knees, the heel of one shoe clutched in her right fist. Mikal watched her closely while he reached into his fly and palmed his cock. Her ribs expanded on a deep breath and her thighs tensed but when he moved to straddle her calves, she responded by releasing the shoe and sinking down onto her forearms.

Mikal knelt behind her, trapping her legs between his knees. The scratch he’d drawn across her leg stood fresh and red, evidence of his ownership. He ran his hand over her ass and stroked the long, angry line left by the tip of his knife. Callista drew a sharp breath and flinched away from his touch.

“No.” He grabbed her hip and pulled her back into position, where he could admire the crack of her ass and follow the soft line down to the smooth, wet lips waiting to swallow his cock. He craved the hot sensation of sinking into her pussy, of burying himself balls deep and grinding against her pillowy folds. Stronger than craving, however, was need. He needed to take away her control. After that, he’d indulge himself in her body.

He leaned over her back and seized her arms. Holding her securely by the elbows, he forcibly pulled her hands and forearms out from beneath her chest and drew her elbows together behind her back. Her shoulder blades jutted prominently as he pushed the limits of her flexibility. She started to struggle but he gave her a little shake. “Stop or you’ll hurt yourself. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To be at my mercy?”

“It hurts,” she moaned, arching her back. “You’re hurting me.”

But pleasure vibrated in her voice and sang in her short, rapid gasps for breath. Mikal lowered his head and kissed the nape of her neck. Warning bells rang in the back of his mind but he ignored them. He’d crossed a line long denied him and he wasn’t going to turn back now.

“I could hurt you more,” he whispered before raking his teeth down the strained line of her triceps. The lean muscle jumped against his lips and she whimpered. “But you’ll hold still for me anyway, won’t you? Because it’s no good if the pain comes from you instead of from me.”

“Please.” Her fingertips grazed his stomach as she got fistfuls of his shirt.

His body reacted on its own accord, craving more of her heat. Mikal threw his head back and led with his hips. The head of his cock tunneled between her slick lips and rode over her clit, wrenching a high-pitched cry from the woman in his grasp.

“Please!” she repeated, bucking back into his hold instead of fighting it. Her ass rose up against his groin, inviting him in. Mikal ignored the blatant demand and pulled away, dragging his shaft back through her juices.

He angled his cock head against her entrance and rubbed against her, jabbing at the sensitive rim without actually penetrating. He wanted to feel her hot sheath wrapped around him so bad he could practically taste the pheromones scenting the air between them. “I want in here, bare naked and coming deep. I’m going to fuck you. Just like this. No condom. No pulling out.
My
choice the way I do it, not yours. Nothing’s your choice anymore, do you understand? There are consequences to looking for trouble.”

She didn’t respond and Mikal shook her slightly. “Tell me you understand, Callista.”

Her breath broke on a sob but she managed, “I do. God, please just let me come.”

“Oh lover, you really don’t get it, do you?” He hauled her up until her back rested flush against his chest and banded his arms across her ribs, pinning her to him. With a calculated angle and a smooth thrust, he buried his cock deep in her heat. Relishing the tightness of her pussy and the discomfort of their position, he drew back and slammed up into her again.

She shuddered and her head lolled against his shoulder. Mikal bent to lick her ear and whisper, “Didn’t you know that when a man forces a woman, he’s only interested in making her come when she
doesn’t
want it?” He slid one hand down her stomach and spread her pussy but he didn’t touch her clit. Instead, he withdrew his cock and pushed two fingers into her tight sheath. Callista pushed her hips forward and Mikal evaded her attempt to make contact.

“No.”

“Mikal—
Master
—”

“No,” he interrupted. He removed his fingers and delivered a sharp slap to her slippery folds. Callista jerked in his arms. Mikal left his hand on her, squeezing her soft lips and working them against her clit—too much pressure to ignore, not enough pressure to satisfy. “When I say no, I mean it.”

Releasing her, he pushed her back to the floor. “Ass up, lover. I’m going to tell you what else a man is interested in when he’s using force.”

She hesitated but complied in the end. Mikal knew she would. She fell naturally into a classically submissive pose, arms stretched out, grasping the leg of the bed. He admired the long slope of her back and her bowed head but focused on the raised curve of her ass and the exposed pad of her pussy. Her ass cheeks separated naturally, leaving her little pucker exposed.

“Humiliation,” he said, staring down at her. “He’s interested in humiliating his target.”

Mikal braced his hands on the floor to either side of her hips and bent down to drag his tongue from her front to back, smearing her wetness up the crease. He lingered at her ass, circling the tight opening with the pierced tip of his tongue. Callista shook, her thigh muscles quivering, but she didn’t speak. That was good. His control was tenuous and he wasn’t sure how he’d react if she said the wrong thing.

Lifting his head, he opened the nearby cabinet. An array of sanitized, plastic-wrapped instruments were arranged neatly, waiting to be used. Mikal selected an anal plug that was too large for Callista to comfortably receive.

“He’s also interested in making her scream in pain. You want to be hurt?” He tore off the plastic with his teeth and pushed the plug into her pussy without warning. Callista gasped, but her flesh was ready to receive his cock and the tapered toy was nowhere near his girth. It wasn’t meant for her pussy though. After twisting the silicone cone inside her to get it good and wet, he pulled it out and positioned the rounded tip against her anus. She tensed. Perfect. “You have permission to scream if you need to.”

She started to say something, but the word became a low, pained cry as he worked the plug into her ass, moving quickly to take advantage of her wetness before it dried in the open air. Callista squirmed, trying to get away, but he dug his fingers into her thigh and held her in place as he fed another inch of silicone into her body. He watched carefully for signs of true pain, listened for real panic in her rasping, gulping breath, and took her straight to the edge of her limits. By the time he notched the plug’s broad base against her skin, she wept softly against her outstretched arms. But she didn’t once say “no” or “stop”.