Naughty Bits Part III: Bound to Please (13 page)

“I’m bad at this part. It scares me.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be scared of anything. As long as you’re being honest with yourself and with me, there’s nothing you can do wrong.”

“I didn’t admit to it, but you’re right. The one common denominator was me.” She shook her head before he could say anything. “I’m not fishing for reassurance. I thought a lot about it, about the things I did do wrong, but I guess I didn’t put it together until you said the thing about choice. And not just tonight. You’ve been hitting that point in different ways, intentional or not. I tried the sub thing with some of them, but I ended up feeling like a freak, or they took advantage of it in the wrong ways. For the last few relationships, I just kept it inside. I figured I could be submissive in ways that fed my need and didn’t ask for anything active from them in that way.”

“Anything where you had to trust them to care for you,” he said, with that shrewdness that was both one of his most appealing qualities and one of the most difficult, when it came to facing this part of herself.

“I thought if I did all the right things, tried to figure out how to make them happy, that’s all it would take,” she said softly. “Like paint by numbers, just fill in the colors. I never really thought about what I wanted, if I loved them, if I would have picked them out of a crowd and said, ‘That’s the one I want.’”

She offered him a painful smile. “Alice tried to tell me once. She said, ‘Madison, when you go to buy a pair of shoes, do you buy the first one the sales clerk thrusts at you? No, you don’t. You shop. You look at the colors and styles, and wait to see which one tickles your fancy. You choose. You pick them out.’ I ignored her, the way I tuned out so many things she said.”

“She was your older sister. It’s a given that we ignore family advice.”

She nodded, but then she drew in a deep breath. Even so, the words still came out quiet, so quiet he had to bend his head and she had to repeat them.

“I pick you, Logan. Whatever happens, for however long we get . . . I pick you. You’re
my
choice.”

He raised his head, but not far, so their eyes were very close. Mouths, bodies, that aura that Alice said vibrated around everything close enough to merge. “Okay,” he said. “And I get no choice in this at all?”

Trust him to know the right thing to say, to help her not feel so terrified, so exposed. “None at all,” she said staunchly. “I’m sorry, but that’s just the way it is. Do you think . . .”

When she trailed off, he touched her jaw, that way he had of making her say whatever foolish thing that came to mind. “Can you be just Logan tonight, and make love to me? Does it always have to be the Dom/sub thing? Is there an off switch?”

She really was an idiot. It came out so wrong, she expected him to step back and close down. She’d just told him she didn’t want him to be something he was 120% of the time. “I’m sorry,” she added hastily, “I didn’t mean it quite like that. It’s just—”

“Madison, look at me.”

When she lifted her gaze to him, his brown eyes were as attentive as ever. She didn’t see anger, hurt or anything she’d feared. “Do you stop being a woman if you wear pants instead of a skirt?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Exactly. You enjoy wearing both, right?”

She nodded. His warm look loosened the band around her chest. “I am a sexual Dominant, yes,” he said. “I’m also a man who is developing strong feelings for you, and those feelings aren’t contained in one box. I wasn’t going to have sex with you tonight, because I don’t want you keeping us in that one box, avoiding the things that a fully fleshed-out relationship entails. You’ve just told me you don’t want to avoid that.”

“So?” A different kind of feeling took hold of her as a wicked grin crossed his face.

“So that means all bets are off.”

He caught her arm, dipped beneath it and slung her over his shoulder as she laughed outright, though that reaction was quickly turned into something else as he took her to the stairs, but not up to the bedroom. Instead he put her down on the stairs, turned her over onto her knees and covered her with his body, pulling up the skirt so he had one thigh inserted firmly between her legs. He put the other arm across her chest, held her there down beneath him as he put his mouth to her throat and bit. She moaned as he pushed her back against that thigh, working her against it.

Yes, he could make love to her as Logan. But Logan, with or without the Master honorific, was a take-charge, overwhelming alpha lover, and he proved it now by making her utterly helpless to anything he desired in a matter of seconds. Reaching beneath her, he unzipped the skirt, pulled it off her hips, stripping her down to her thong. She’d borrowed one of his hardware store baby-doll tees to replace the one he’d ripped off of her, and now he worked his way beneath it, unhooking her bra.

“Take it off. Leave the shirt on.”

She worked the straps off through the sleeves. When she remembered what she’d told Troy during their first session, that she thought Logan’s preferred lingerie on a woman would be a T-shirt and thong, she would have smiled, if other things weren’t taking precedence.

Taking the bra from her, he set it aside. His hand on her back told her she was right where he wanted her as he backed down a couple steps. It was the perfect position to grip her thighs, spread them wider and tease her cunt through the crotch of the thong—with his heated mouth.

She clawed the carpet on the stairs, moaning, driven wild by the way he suckled her clit, traced her labia with the firm pressure of his tongue, rubbed his face in her scent, marking himself with it. She pushed her hips up against him, arching her back, making it clear she was his for the taking in the way she expected female animals had done since the beginning of time. She was wild, suffused with the pleasure of the moment. No fear or worries.

He pulled her panties to her knees and then she heard him opening his jeans. She could barely breathe. When he dropped the belt on the stairs next to her, her fingers curled over the strap, felt the bite of the buckle. His chest pressed into her shoulder blades, his breath at her ear.

“I’ll have you in your bed tonight, too. But I can’t wait. I want you here first.”

To be wanted, desired so keenly he wouldn’t deny himself . . . it was a gift she couldn’t describe, a balm on every rejection that had ever battered her self-esteem into nothingness. “Can you do it . . . without the condom?”

His arm cinched around her waist, so her bare ass was against his groin, still frustratingly behind fabric, though the jeans were open. Rubbing herself against the ridged friction of his glans, she made needy noises he answered with a growl.

“I don’t know, Madison. Can I?”

He was saying he was safe. He was asking her the same, trusting her to be truthful with him. She doubted anyone short of God could lie to Logan Scott when he asked them a direct question.

“Yes.” She was protected from pregnancy, and the last man had been Leroy, well over two years and two annual physicals ago. “Please.”

He slid one finger along her wrist. “Madison, look down at your hands.”

It was hard to focus on anything beyond the throbbing need between her legs, but she obeyed. She saw she’d twisted his belt around her wrists, clasping the ends in her hands so it was as if she’d bound herself. When he’d stripped himself of the belt, her mind had been seized with the image of him binding her wrists with it, hooking it to the banister, holding her there as he fucked her mercilessly on the stairs. She’d acted on her own desires to see it happen, all within the turbulent heat of her subconscious.

“It’s not my switch you need to worry about turning off.” He gave a dangerous chuckle, his hand closing over her wrists, tightening the hold of the belt and making her heart beat faster. Holding her like that with the one hand, he adjusted his clothes out of the way with the other and put his cock against her slick lips. “Push yourself back against me, Madison. I want to feel you impale yourself on my cock, and I want you to do it slow.”

Easier said than done. All she wanted was to slam back into him, alleviate this aching need but, by following his orders, that need grew to a greater intensity that shuddered through her with every inch she gained. When she was finally seated on him, her fingers were trembling and those delicate slick tissues were spasming, on the cusp of climax. She whimpered again as he reached beneath her with both hands, cradled her breasts. She arched, her hard nipples stabbing into his palms. “You stay still,” he ordered. “Not a single move until I command it.”

With him tweaking her nipples, that was almost impossible, her hips jerking. She put her head down, trying to freeze her muscles, keep herself from reacting, but he made her lift it again, staying open to everything he did to her. Until her self-restraint was shattered, her hips grinding against his, body sinuously moving with the manipulation of his hands, a helpless dance.

“Logan . . .”

He pushed deeper into her, and his heavy testicle sac caressed her clit. She put her face down on the carpet again and this time he was rougher about it, tangling his fist in her hair to yank her head back up. He began to thrust in earnest, the other hand moving to her hip to hold her steady as he pumped into her. His cock stretched her, plowed deep, and she was crying out, near screaming at the pleasure of it.

Just when she thought he was about to go over himself, he brought them to an abrupt halt. Before she could wail a protest, he’d pulled out of her. Swinging her up into his arms, he carried her up the stairs, the belt still wound around her wrists. In her bedroom, he crossed the room, put her down on her back and removed the belt, dropping it to the floor with a clink of metal.

Her gaze clung to him as he straightened and shed all of his clothes. She wished he’d turned on the light so she could devour with her eyes every curve and plane, every muscled ridge, the hard, stiff cock curving up over his testicles, but she shared and savored his urgency, wanting to feel even more than she wanted to see.

Kneeling on the bed, he stripped off her T-shirt and thong. Holding her gaze still, he lay down upon her, body to body, flush against each other with nothing between but the emotions that saturated the air. She closed her eyes, absorbing the heat and strength of him, his weight pressing her into her mattress, his big body spreading her thighs as his hands guided her legs up and around his hips.

A gasp and moan together broke from her lips as he slid back into her. Her hips undulated, accommodating his size and length again, taking him all the way. She made a different noise then, a quiet, feminine note of question and need both. Bracing his elbows on the outside of her shoulders, he cradled her face in his hands.

“Put your hands on my arms, Madison. Hold on to me. Look in my face and know it’s about way the hell more than restraints or commands.”

She could barely think at this point, but she found some part of her able to latch on to the words as if they were the most important ones ever spoken to her, even as she wasn’t in a frame of mind to analyze them. She jumped from rationality to faith in his arms, and knew no fear. At least not in this moment.

She lifted her chin as he stroked deep inside of her, bent to touch his lips to the line of her jaw. Sighing against his flesh, she gripped his incredible biceps. “I love the way you feel.”

“Same goes.”

The rhythm he set had her rising up to meet him, her teeth biting her lip, her legs locking over his hips, feeling the flex of his ass under her calves, the ripple of his thigh muscles under her ankles hooked over them. The friction of his chest hair against her nipples was just one searing pleasure among many. That feeling between her legs was growing even more concentrated, and she breathed his name against his skin, rearing up to bite his chest. One hand cupped her head, held her there. He braced their weights with one arm, increased the piston of his strokes. So close, so very close . . .

He plunged in deep, making her cry out, but then he stopped there, lodged to the hilt, and spoke against her hair. “Do you love me, Madison?”

He released his hold on her head, lowered it back to the pillow so that she saw him through the gray darkness of her bedroom, illumination provided by the light they’d left on over the hallway steps. She’d given up anticipating anything this man would say to her or ask of her, and this was no exception.

“I want to. I want you to love me . . . back.”

His eyes softened then. He held them both on that cusp as her nails raked his shoulders, her hips working against his in tiny, insistent movements, but he pushed down, pinning them. “Ssshh. Be still, love. Be still. Calm down for me.”

She stared at him, panting, but gradually, painstakingly, things slowed down, until it seemed they were balanced on some still point in the universe, where they had stopped as everything else passed around them. He waited until he saw her reach that still point with him.

“I will, Madison. I do. You understand me?”

She nodded. Tears trickled over her cheeks, probably baptizing his thumbs. “I want to love you, too, Logan. Really love you. My choice. I want to get there.”

“Go over for me,” he whispered. “Let me see it happen. Come for me, Madison.”

This was the easiest thing of all, given that the stroke of his cock, his skill in rousing her beyond anything she’d ever experienced, took the choice out of her hands. She climaxed, cunt spasming over him, nails biting into his flesh, her body straining up in that crazed rigor during which the human body could do anything. He put his mouth on her sternum, right between her breasts, holding it there, continuing to pump into her body, work her to the full measure of her release.

Only when she was starting to come down did he speed up, seek his own finish. She held on for the ride, loving the feel of his body shuddering against hers, the male grunts of release and the heat of him searing her inside. She clung to him for all she was worth, tilting up her hips to give him back as much pleasure as he gave her. Though she wasn’t sure that was possible, she would do her best to try.