OnLocation (15 page)

“You could fuck me, Sir.” It would make her feel less naked
if he was naked too. “I’m getting your shorts all wet.”

“I could. I can. Anytime I want, can’t I?”

“Anytime.”

“Anywhere.”

“Anywhere, Sir.” Even here.

“And in any way I desire.”

“Yes Sir.” She didn’t know what she might be agreeing to,
but it didn’t matter. It was all true.

“Right now, I want you to keep moving.”

She realized that he had stopped his pushing and pulling.
She wasn’t sure when that had happened, but she had continued the rhythm,
rubbing her pussy against his hard cock, her breasts swaying. Probably because
it felt so good, even if it was frustrating.
I could bring myself off with
my fingers in seconds right now.
But she knew that wasn’t allowed. She
faltered for a moment, realizing what it must look like, and then met his gaze.

I’m stronger with him.
She got herself in motion
again.
Doesn’t matter what anyone thinks but him and me.

He reached up to cup her breasts, feeling their weight for a
moment, and then he grinned. His fingers narrowed.

“I’m about to add in some pain, pet. Would you like that?”

In spite of everything else she was doing, she blushed. “You
know the answer, Sir,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

“Yes, but I like to make you say it.”

“Damn you.” She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to that, but
it thrilled her anyway. “Yes Sir.”

He closed thumb and forefinger around each nipple and
squeezed. He wasn’t gentle. She didn’t want him to be. She moaned, feeling the
sparks go straight from her nipples to her clit, and moved faster.
If he
wants admission I want it, he has it.
The pressure was building in her
core. She wanted release, even if she had to get it by rubbing herself against
him. She got the impression she would. Or maybe he’d tell her to stop at the
last minute. She wasn’t sure which would be worse. Or which would be better.

But she knew it wasn’t her choice. She surrendered herself
completely to him and the moment. She met his gaze again and saw that he
approved.

“Thank you, Sir,” she said. A few more thrusts of her hips
and the dam holding all that pressure back would come bursting open. She had
lost her inhibition, as she knew he wanted. Now she moved eagerly, wanting her
release.

“Stop,” he said. He let go of her tender peaks.

“Dammit!” she yelled. She did as he said, save for one last
futile rock of her hips. “I was so close.” She bit her lip. “Sir.”

“We have company,” he said.

She looked around. Natalie was sucking on Carter’s cock, his
hand stroking through her dark hair. But that wasn’t what Kyle was referring
to. On the edge of the area, near the jungle path, stood Sergeant Kelly. Her
face was bright red.

“I could have had you continue,” Kyle said in a low voice.
“We’ll discuss sometime if I should have. But not now.”

Just as well, because Teresa wasn’t sure what she thought.
She did think that she might be blushing as hard as the police officer. Natalie
and Carter didn’t seem to even know she was there. Someone ought to tell them.
She looked at them, then looked at Kyle. He shook his head. She shrugged and
tried to look as blasé as she could while naked and straddling a big handsome
man.

The sergeant looked as if she were going to run away.
Earlier, she had been very much in control, but now she looked like a mouse.
Instead of away, however, she ran forward to where Roger and Tom were playing
cribbage. She handed Tom a small piece of paper. Then she looked over at Terry
and Kyle.

“Sorry,” she mouthed and ran back into the jungle.

Carter gasped, still either oblivious or unconcerned, and
she saw Natalie’s throat ripple as she swallowed, her eyes fixed on her Master.
Terry watched, fascinated, until Carter stroked Natalie’s cheek, apparently a
signal for her to stop. She looked up at him and smiled, looking pleased with
herself. He handed her a glass of what looked like white wine from a table next
to him and she drank. Then the couple kissed. If Natalie saw Teresa watching,
she gave no sign.

“They’re lovely,” she said to Kyle in a low voice.

“I agree. Although I think before I met you, I found them
too precious. See? You make me stronger.”

She nodded. She wasn’t sure whether she should resume or
not. The urgency had subsided, but she still felt all the want. She looked into
his eyes and waited for his decision.

“Let’s go inside,” he said. “And get some privacy.”

“As you wish, Sir.” She didn’t mind the idea of privacy, but
she didn’t want him to think she wouldn’t do whatever he wanted here, because
she’d found the strength to.

“You’ve done very well, Teresa. As always, you’ve surprised
and pleased me.”

“You expected me to balk.”

He smiled. “Yes.”

“I expected me to too.”

“You have to get off me for me to get up. Assuming you’d
like to see the dungeon?”

The word sent a ripple of fear through her. But she did want
to see, and to find out what he might do to her there. “Yes Sir.” She moved to
stand up, and instantly he was at her side.

She was more exposed this way than when she was on him,
facing away from the rest, and she glanced around to see who was looking. But
he suddenly picked her up and cradled her in his arms, and she happily sought
cover by turning toward his chest instead. One arm under her upper back, the
other beneath her knees, he carried her back to the house.

“Have fun,” said Roger.

“Now maybe Roger will be able to focus on the game,” said
Tom cheerily. Terry blushed at the reminder that they’d had an audience.

“Oh, shut your face,” said Roger. “You’re just happy because
you got the pretty cop to give you her phone number.”

“Darn straight,” agreed Tom.

They kept talking, but she couldn’t make out the words
anymore as Kyle nudged the sliding door open an inch with his hand while
holding her, and then pushed it open the rest of the way with his foot. He
carried her through.

“Shouldn’t we close it behind us?”

“Roger or Tom would get it,” Kyle replied. “We look after
each other. They’re family. But since I have to set you down anyway, yes,
please get the door.”

Kyle got out a single key from his pocket and opened what
she thought had been a closet. Her eyes narrowed. It wasn’t the house key; the
house had been left unlocked, and this one looked different. He’d intended this
outing to end in the dungeon all along. “Were you going to stop me regardless
of whether the policewoman showed up?” Terry asked.

“Well, originally yes,” Kyle said. “But then I saw the look
in your eyes, the passion, and I decided I’d enjoy it more if you came. Not to
mention that what you were doing was feeling damn good to me—so good my balls
felt like they were going to bust. But when she showed up, I wasn’t sure how
you’d feel.”

“Why her?” she asked. “There were a ton of people there
already.”

He nodded, keeping the door open for a moment with his foot.
It seemed to be weighted to close automatically. She was curious, but all she
could see was that the stairs went down steeply to a dark room. “I draw a line
between people who are in the scene and who aren’t. I could take you to a
bondage club and fuck you silly and do anything I’d do to you here. But I’d
never expose you on a city street. So yes, the cop was different, and if Roger
hadn’t said the police were going to stay on the cove, I’d not have gone as far
with you as I did.”

“You could, if you wanted to,” she said, because she liked
telling him that. She was glad he didn’t want to.

“I was tempted. She knew who we were and what sort of things
go on here—she’d quizzed me enough about that. And she’d told Roger we’d be
left alone, or someone did.”

“I trusted you to make the decision.” It surprised her how
much of a relief it was to be able to say that.

“I will keep you safe whether you want to take risks or not,
when I’m in control.”

“Life can’t be lived completely without risks. Sometimes my
career takes me to odd places.”

“Then I want to be with you to help you deal with those
risks,” he said.

The idea of having him along made her smile.

He reached in to flick on a light and walked downstairs.
“Follow me.”

She felt pulled as strongly as if she were wearing a collar
and he were holding a leash. The image filled her mind. “Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think you’d want to put a collar on me? Like Natalie
has?”

He didn’t answer right away, but she was distracted anyway.
She took in the wooden cross with cuffs hanging from rings where Kyle could
bind her wrists and ankles, and imagined herself spread out on it. She thought
of how he could bind her on the table or spank her while she knelt on the
spanking bench. The bench was constructed in such a way that if she knelt on it
the way she thought she was supposed to, a ridge of leather would press against
her pussy. It reminded her of how she’d been rubbing against Kyle’s cock.

She wondered how the things on the wall would feel. She’d
felt a flogger and a crop, but there were other things there—something that
looked like a crop but with an extension on it like a whip; a flogger with
knots in it; a small metal bucket full of canes; a single-tailed whip, coiled
and looking as dangerous as a snake.

What have I gotten myself into?

And why do I want to feel them all and find out?
She
took a step forward into the room.

“Natalie’s collar is more than a sexy accessory, pet,” Kyle
said as he moved behind her. His strong arms wrapped around her waist, his
forearms brushing against the lower swell of her breasts. “It’s a symbol of
commitment that he takes as seriously as the engagement ring on her finger. A
sign that she belongs to him, heart and soul, and that he loves her and will do
whatever it takes to protect her. They have a discreet one for public wear, I
believe, that most people would take for a necklace, but she never goes
anywhere without wearing one.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way. But as he described it,
she knew she wanted exactly that kind of relationship. “I had a vision of
myself on a leash.”

“A collar is good for that too,” Kyle said. “But I’d rather
save it for the other meaning, because I think I would like to collar you,
Teresa. Let’s give it a little more time.”

She turned in his grasp. “So sex doesn’t have to wait for
any commitment, but tugging me on a leash we’re saving? You—we’re very
strange.”

“I don’t think I could love a woman who wasn’t a bit
strange. And I know that right now. I love you.”

She smiled and pressed against him. “I love you too. I
hope—” She stopped.

“You hope what?” he prompted.

“I hope that’s not going to stop you from doing the things
you—you know—” She glanced over at the wall with all the crops and whips and
floggers.

“From giving you pain?”

“You never say hurting me,” she said. “Always—giving pain.”

“If I thought it hurt you, I wouldn’t do it. Hurting
involves more than just the body. But I’m going to keep doing those things to
you.” He took her hand and walked her over to the wall. “Come help me make a
selection. Don’t say a word. Touch each one and think about how you think it
might feel.”

She pulled a cane out that had a rubber handle, and then put
it back.
Ouch.
Maybe someday.
She ran her hands through the
tresses of a flogger, not unlike the one he’d used on her before.
Too
gentle.

She touched them all but she was drawn to the flogger with
the knots. Part of it was that it was made of such a lovely glossy purple
leather. When she felt it, the knots were harder than she expected, and that
made her pull back but it excited her too. She wasn’t sure she wanted him using
it, and when she realized she was lingering, she touched the flogger next to
it. It was heavier than the one she had felt before, but still very much in the
same vein. She looked back at him, wondering what he’d noticed.

He picked up the flogger she’d decided would be too light.

Well, he’s not a mind reader.
She started to open her
mouth. He’d been so gentle the night before and she felt she needed to make it
clear that wasn’t what she needed or wanted from him. At least not all the
time.

Picking up the flogger with the knots, he held it together
with the other in the same hand. She closed her mouth, her heart hammering. He
was going to whip her with that—thing. And she wasn’t going to stop him.

He reached for her, taking her wrist rather than her hand.
“This way, Teresa.” He pulled her toward the cross. She pulled back
instinctively and then stopped.

He smiled at her. “You want to resist? You may. You remember
your safe word, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me what it is.”

“It’s pineapple, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He yanked her up close to him and cupped her
ass, although his hand had two floggers in it so it felt odd. “We both know
then that no matter how much you struggle you want me to win.”

She pulled away from him. He tossed the floggers on top of
the padded table and then yanked her back, then moved his hand from her wrist
to her ass. This time his free hand found her hair. He pulled and moved his
lips close to hers. She could feel his breath hot on her face. She knew he
could feel her heart beating hard against his chest as her breasts squished
against him. “Don’t we?” he asked.

“Yes Sir.”

He pulled her hair harder, until it hurt. “And the more you
struggle, the rougher it’s going to be.”

“Yes please.”

His fingers dug into her ass. “That’s my girl.” He pulled
her toward the cross again, and she didn’t dare resist much with the grip he
had on her hair. Still, she made him move her stumbling, rather than walking,
and tried to stop him from binding her face-front to the cross once he got
there. He leaned against her and his weight bore her down so she couldn’t get
free, even when he had one hand on her wrist and the other was busy with the
buckle on the cuff. Once he had one wrist attached, it was hopeless.