Over the Line (7 page)

“I don’t suppose we could remove this one so that they’d match, Sir?”

“After all the trouble I’ve gone to?”

“Of course not. What was I thinking, Sir?”

He moved around her, glad she couldn’t see his smile. She looked stunning with that slight arch to her back. Her long blonde hair was in wild disarray, and he was tempted to grab a fistful as he slammed into her from behind.

It took all his self-control to think only about her, about increasing the pleasure of her upcoming orgasm. He could wait. Surely.

He leant down to play with her right breast, plumping it, releasing it. She moaned and moved away from him, so he toyed with the clamp he’d already placed.

“Sir!”

“Sub?”

That she didn’t turn and slay him with a look told him she was sinking into the scene. Damn, he liked this, giving her what she wanted, even if she didn’t realise that yet. He was certain that when she’d attended this evening’s solstice party at the Den, she’d been planning to get a spanking from some random man before saying goodnight and waltzing out of the door. But he hoped this was better, hoped that nothing else could match the high of being with a Dom who was intent on giving her a unique, consuming experience.

He gently swatted her right breast and teased the nipple into an erect state. She dropped her head, and he took advantage of her distraction to place the clamp.

“Oww.”

“You’ll be all right.” He caressed her flesh. “Your swollen nipples look hot.” He captured her chin and turned her head so that he could read her expression. Her eyes were wide and they had a glazed look to them, making the blue even more startling. “How’s your pussy? Are you getting as turned on as I am?”

“I…” She licked her lower lip.

He felt as if she’d taken a sledgehammer to his solar plexus. The things he could imagine that pink tongue doing…

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” she said, the husk in her voice an invitation.

He needed to be careful. She was as smart as she was sassy, and she was adept at manipulation. “I think I will,” he said. “Present your ass to me.”

“Sir?”

“Move around and put your breasts on the floor.”

“That’s…”

“Not what you were expecting? Do it.”

She moved slowly, as if hoping to minimise the sway of her breasts. Every motion, he knew, would bring a wave of pain to her nipples. But all that would be nothing compared with the agony she’d feel when her breasts were crushed against the wood.

Once she was where he wanted her, he said, “Reach back and spread your buttocks.”

He waited while she did as she was told. She readjusted herself several times, obviously to find a more comfortable position. Before she was situated, he toyed with her pussy. “You’re definitely wet,” he told her as he slid his hand back and forth. “I’d like your permission to put a finger inside you.”

“Yes.” The word was almost a hiss. “Yes, Sir.”

He entered her slowly, and manoeuvred until he felt the difference in the texture of her internal flesh and touched her G-spot.

“Oh!
My God
.” She bucked and forced herself back, seeking more.

He indulged her for a few seconds, placing the pad of one thumb lightly against her anal whorl and feathering the lightest of touches over her clit.

“So close,” she whispered. “Please, please, please. I want to come. Sir!”

“Not yet.” He continued the gentle torture, his cock getting harder and harder. She was so much more responsive than he’d imagined she might be, and seeing her arousal made him horny.

Her words sounded nonsensical, a combination of pleading and demand, all wrapped together.

When he was sure she couldn’t take any more without orgasming, he pulled his hands away. “That’s a taste of what’s to come.”

She whimpered, her forehead pressed to the wood, her hands still on her buttocks. He stood and moved to the sink to rinse his hands while she regained her composure.

“Master Michael…”

At the sound of confusion in her tone, he turned off the tap and looked over at her. “Sydney?”

When she didn’t respond, he returned to her, devouring the distance in a few brisk strides. “I’m right here.” He sat on the floor and gathered her into his arms. Who would have suspected that the toughness she projected was mostly an aura? And he guessed she’d blacken his eye if he even hinted as much to her. She was such an intriguing dichotomy. “Talk to me,” he said. “Do you need me to remove the clamps?”

“No.” She pushed against his restraint. “There’s nothing wrong. I promise.”

“Did it bother you that I left you?” He brushed hair back from her face. “Do you hurt?”

“Everything is okay.” She sighed, sounding exasperated. “The whole orgasm denial is just driving me crazy. Everything tingles, and there’s a gnawing inside me. I haven’t felt this way before. Please, don’t overreact. I didn’t mean to alarm you.”

He frowned at her. At best, that was a half-truth. But he suspected he’d get nothing more from her. Still, he liked having her in his arms, inhaling the citrusy scent of her shampoo and touching her bare skin.

“You worry too much, Sir. I’m okay. I always was. I promise.”

“I never doubted that,” he assured her.

“Can we continue, Sir?”

He debated what to do. Part of him wanted to talk, but maybe she was right. Maybe he’d heard something in her voice that really hadn’t been there. A bigger part of him wanted to put each of them out of their misery.

“I am so ready for an orgasm.”

“Little sub, you’re going to get more than one.”

She smiled. “The night is not getting any younger, Sir. And neither am I.”

Her momentary weakness was gone, if it had ever really been there. In its place was bravado, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was a façade. Either way, he was more determined than ever to care for her, to give her a different experience than any other Dom ever had.

He loosened his grip. “When you’re ready, crawl to the stairs.”

She started to move, but then stopped and resumed at a much slower pace.

The trek up the stairs couldn’t have been easy. The steps had no carpet, and since the house was old, the pitch was steep. The view, though, was sexually gratifying. If he had his way, he’d keep her here, naked and needy. “Second door on the left,” he said. “Kneel up,” he instructed when they entered the room. He assumed she’d been around the lifestyle long enough to know what he meant, and clearly she did. She knelt with her legs slightly parted and her hands on her thighs.

He removed all the pillows from the top of the bed and piled them beneath a window. He left the blinds open so the smattering of stars were visible in the inky distance. Since his room was at the back of the house, no one would be able to see in, not that she would mind at any rate.

After pulling back the comforter, he said, “Please get on the bed and lie on your back.” As she climbed onto the massive four-poster bed that his father had constructed from local trees, their gazes met. He wasn’t a mind reader, but he was convinced he saw trust in the way her eyes were open so wide. If there was anything headier, he had no idea what it was. “I’m going to remove these clamps,” he said.

“They’re fine, Sir.”

“I should have said replace them. I want clovers that will stay on, even if I pull on them.”

“Ah… These are fine, Sir. In fact, I’ve grown quite fond of them.”

“As I’ve mentioned, that’s not a decision you get to make.” He lowered himself onto the bed next to her and gently plumped her right breast. “This may hurt, but I’ll try to mitigate it.”

She nodded.

He continued to hold the flesh as he released the clamp. Immediately he replaced the plastic with his mouth. He laved her mistreated flesh with his tongue, helping to stimulate her as the blood flow resumed. She’d arched, but she settled against the sheets again.

“That wasn’t as bad as I expected, Sir,” she said. “Thank you.”

He slowly released his hold on her breast. “I do like it when you’re respectful.”

She stuck out her tongue then offered a quick explanation, “My lips are dry, Sir.”

“Maybe I won’t let you come at all.”

“Ah…”

“And maybe I’ll ejaculate all over your breasts while you watch. Then I’ll fall asleep.”

“You really do have a sadistic streak, Sir.”

“Little sub, you haven’t even begun to suspect the depths of my desire to torment you.”

She shuddered.

“But you’ll find out.”

“Should I be scared, Sir?”

“Very.” He captured her right hand and moved it to the apex of her thighs. Without warning, he removed the second clamp. He used his mouth to soothe her there, too.

“If that’s the treatment I get after you clamp me, feel free to do it anytime.”

“My pleasure.” And it was. He loved the feminine taste of her and the way her nipple lengthened as he sucked. He used his tongue to press it against the roof of his mouth then gently bit her as he released it.

“Wow, Sir.”

“I may play with your breasts for hours.”

“At this point, I wouldn’t say no.”

“I’m going to clamp you again,” he said. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Such an obedient little sub.”

She opened her mouth, but he placed a finger across her lips to silence what he knew would be her objection. After she nodded, he removed his finger. “Don’t move,” he instructed.

He stood and crossed to the leather-covered storage bench at the foot of the bed. He removed a box that had been buried under a comforter. Careful to stay in her sight, he placed the box on a nightstand. He pulled out several pairs of clamps, some scarves, a small bottle of lube and a couple of lengths of sturdy rope.

“Do you have condoms there?” she asked. “Otherwise, my purse is downstairs.”

He looked at her. With her eyes wide, mouth softly parted, naked body and reddened breasts, she was beautiful. “You want to fuck?” he asked, his chest constricting. There was nothing he wanted more.

“I want you in me, Sir. Yes.”

Suddenly he had difficulty remembering what he was doing. The idea of burying himself balls deep in her pussy scrambled his brains.

He forced himself to think about her. His needs could and would wait. He’d promised her several orgasms, and that was his priority.

She kept her gaze fixed on him as he selected a pair of Japanese clover clamps. For a moment, he allowed the chain to dangle from his index finger.

“Yes,” she said.

His cock grew incredibly harder.

He returned to her and sucked on each of her nipples before attaching the rubber-tipped metal clamps.

She lifted her butt off the bed. “It burns, Sir.”

“Use your safe word or slow word, or settle down.” He stroked between her legs, making her wet again. Within moments, she responded to his touch. He delighted in learning all her nuances.

“Ah…”

He took the chain in hand and gave a gentle tug.

“Damn!”

He slid a finger inside her. “Damn is right, little sub. I think you’re turned on.” He released the chain before removing his finger. “Turn over and put your forehead on the mattress. Extend your hands so they reach the headboard.”

Although she moved slowly, he didn’t hurry her.

He wrapped scarves around her wrists to protect her skin then tied them both together. He kept a careful eye on her and listened intently to the sound of her breathing. Her muscles were relaxed, and she inhaled softly. No doubt Sydney liked bondage, something he’d be sure to remember.

After securing the length of sturdy rope to the lowest beam of the headboard, he stepped back to survey his handiwork. “Fabulous.” What could be more perfect than a beautiful woman tied in place for him? “How are you doing? Not too uncomfortable?”

She tugged on the bonds, as if testing them. As he’d suspected, they held her in place.

“I’m fine, Sir.”

He pulled his shirt from his waistband and began to unfasten the buttons, from the bottom up. She turned her head to the side to watch. He shrugged out of the material and tossed it in the direction of the closet.

“Sexy, if you don’t mind me saying so, Sir. And nice tattoo.”

“Thank you.” It was a good thing the artist had had talent. He’d had too much to drink the night his father had died and, in honour of the man’s memory and his own commitment to the land, he’d had an eagle tattooed on his right biceps. “Now to see to you, Sydney.”

He stroked her ass. “You’re not even a bit pink from your earlier spanking.”

She wiggled her hips as if in invitation.

He rubbed her, gradually increasing the friction. Then he smacked her, hard.

“Uhm,” she said. The word was all but a sigh.

He spanked the other cheek as well. She seemed to relax even more. Her spine became more supple, and she pressed her cheek onto the mattress.

After giving her more, he used his right hand to unbuckle his belt while he stroked her with the other.

She moved back and forth, wordlessly seeking more from him.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes. Yes, Sir, I do.
Please.”

Her plea was almost his undoing. But he wanted her to wait just a little longer. He stopped touching her and finished extracting his belt from its loops. He doubled it over and asked, “How about a taste of leather?”

“More than a taste would be nice.”

He gave her a few gentle slaps, searching for a rhythm they’d both enjoy. He’d learnt a bit about her when he’d bent her over the fence at the Den. She could tolerate hard hits—in fact, she seemed to enjoy them the most. It would take a minute to get her there, though, and he forced himself to be patient with how intensely he delivered the blows. While he wanted her red and sore, he also wanted her to recover quickly. He had other plans for her.

With every third hit, he applied a little more wrist. And he rained the leather kisses over her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. Her tiny whimpers drove him on.

“God, Sir, I need to come.”

That she became so aroused by an erotic beating appealed to him. He couldn’t wait to use a flogger and a paddle on her.

He paused for a moment to tease her pussy.