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Re/Paired (Doms of the FBI Book 2) Page 16
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Page 16
Chapter Seven
“Tonight is all about pleasure.”
That was what he’d said just before he’d excused himself to the basement. Katrina checked the digital clock on his chest of drawers. Twenty-two minutes had elapsed, and now she heard the sound of his footsteps echoing up the wooden basement steps and vibrating against the closed door.
She felt safe here, in his house. Anxiety drained from her shoulders. Every second alone in his bedroom was a step toward a different kind of tension. Keith’s decision to bring her here was a good one. She hadn’t realized how on edge she was. She wouldn’t have been able to enjoy his company or the upcoming scene if they’d stayed at her condo.
The basement door rattled and opened. Then he started on the second set of stairs, this one carpeted, muffling the sound of his approach. She knew he could move stealthily when the situation warranted. That meant he wanted to be heard coming up from his dungeon.
He appeared in his bedroom door, a playful smile highlighting the sin in his eyes. Having just unpacked her toiletries bag, she stood in the opening leading from the bathroom, her hands clasped together in a false display of calm.
He grabbed her by the waist, lifted her in the air, twirled around, and pinned her against the wall.
Her crotch rested on his thigh, the only thing holding her off the floor, and he imprisoned her wrists by pressing them to the wall. Focusing on his eyes made it easier to regain her bearings. Her chest heaved with excitement as she tried to slow her breathing. His wicked grin let her know he liked knocking her off balance.
“Tonight I’m going to use strict restraint and a TENS unit on you. I’ll let you choose the flogger.”
The pressure of his thigh against her pussy made it throb in anticipation. Cream soaked through her thin leggings, a consequence of not wearing panties. She now understood the concept of strict restraint—she’d be bound so that she wouldn’t be able to move a muscle—but she had no idea what a TENS unit was. And she didn’t know enough about floggers to select anything.
She tore her attention from his lips. They hovered so close she could almost feel them. They were bait, a promise, incentive. “What’s a TENS unit?”
He kissed her, devouring her lips with tender possession. He ground his pelvis forward, dry fucking with small movements that made her lust for him even more. Heat bloomed, and she wanted their clothes out of the way. Just before she crossed the line from arousal to madness, he stopped.
“You’ll find out.”
The topic of conversation had fled her mind. Find out what? Oh, the TENS unit. “Will it hurt?”
“It could, but I won’t go that far. You should find it stimulating. Frustrating. Relaxing.”
Those descriptors didn’t seem to go together. “Frustrating and relaxing are diametrically opposed ideas.”
He grinned, a sloppy, lopsided look that highlighted his evil charm. “Frustrating you relaxes me. Eventually. The journey is positively orgasmic.”
And she’d be tied down, unable to move while he teased her body. “Are you going to gag me?”
“With my dick. Maybe. If you earn it.”
Her knees grew weak, and she felt every fiber of her being yield to him. She knew he’d make her cry again, but this time, she was looking forward to it. She didn’t know why, exactly, but she wanted to turn her every thought, her reason for being, over to him. “I don’t know how to choose a flogger. I don’t want one that hurts too bad, but that last one almost put me to sleep. I liked the floaty feeling.”
“Floaty with a little bit of bite coming up.” With that, he sank his teeth into her shoulder.
The heat of his mouth and the unforgiving pressure of his bite sent her fragile control into a tailspin. Her nerve endings short-circuited, and her legs liquefied. If he weren’t holding her up, she’d slide down the wall. She moaned, a low primal noise she’d never heard before.
He nipped a path up her throat, using his tongue to soothe away the hot sting. Then he devoured her mouth once more with his kiss.
The hands holding her arms dropped. She felt liquid, malleable and free. Unable to control the trajectory, she let her arms dangle at her sides. This lack of control only seemed to fuel the voraciousness of his exploration. Small bites stung her lower lip, and he sucked it into his mouth, easing the pressure and letting her know that she was completely at his mercy.
And she was. No thoughts of resistance or worry about logistics or the real world crossed her mind. She didn’t remind herself to call him by his title instead of his name, or think about the fact that he’d agreed to forgo that protocol. At her core, she accepted his dominance and reveled in her submission.
He enveloped her breast with his hot hand and kneaded the small mound. She marveled at how in tune with her body he was. Most men she’d been with hadn’t taken the time to discover how sensitive her breasts were. Keith had realized right off how much she enjoyed his touch there, and he used that pleasure to control her even more.
In a sudden spurt of controlled violence, he ripped her shirt away, pulling it over her head and tossing it to the floor. That, too, was uncharacteristic behavior. According to Keith, clothing didn’t belong on the floor. Ever.
Taking a chance, she did the same with his shirt. He stared at her for a long moment, his well-defined chest heaving, and a spark of tenderness glinted wildly from his eyes. She ran her fingertips over his solid abs and upward. His heart thundered a furious rhythm beneath his thick chest muscles. She paused there, fascinated by her effect on him.
Pinning her hips to the wall, he fell to his knees and pressed his lips to her stomach. Small stings punctuated the path of his affection as he made his way along the waist of her leggings. Inch by agonizing inch, he eased the thin fabric down.
She alternately rested her hands on his shoulders and ran her fingers through his short hair. Looking down, she watched his progress and admired the view. The taut muscles in his broad shoulders shifted and bulged as he fed her passion. For the first time, she noticed the smattering of freckles sprinkled across his skin. They were light and only appeared closer to his neck. Though she felt like she was moving through gelatin, she traced her finger from one small dot to the next.
He lifted her feet, one at a time, and removed her leggings. Now she stood before him, naked. He was the one on his knees. She accepted his sovereign right, and she felt power surge through her body. This gorgeous man desired her.
Wordlessly, he lifted one of her legs and brought it to rest on his strong shoulder. He eyed her pussy hungrily and licked his lips. She trembled with anticipation.
Last night he’d been rough, but she’d been primed so well that she’d climaxed quickly. Tonight he teased her with long, slow laps of his tongue. He paused frequently to draw his fingers through her wetness.
She arched her hips, trying to establish a rhythm or to encourage him to penetrate her vagina. Even one finger would bring welcome relief.
“You have the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever seen, Kitty Kat. Tomorrow we’re going to make it even better.” He pressed a kiss to her clit, rocked back on his heels, and stood in one smooth motion.
Leaning forward, he fucked his tongue between her lips, and she tasted the musky flavor of her juices. She didn’t know what he meant by making it better, and she really didn’t care. Right now, she wanted him to grab a condom and make good on the promises he insinuated.
“And you taste like heaven. I could lick you for hours. Tie you down and not let you move until I’ve satisfied this craving.” He spoke against her lips, breathing the words as smooth taunts, more promises. “Soon. You won’t be able to escape.”
Escape was the last thing on her mind.
“I’m going to take you to the dungeon now. Say your safewords.”
After two false starts, she cleared her throat of the passion clogging her airways. “Red, yellow, green.”
He backed away, giving her some space. “When do you use them?”
“When
I need you to stop, adjust something, or let you know everything is all right.” She noticed there were no words to signal wanting more. Acutely aware of her nudity and her need, she lifted her gaze. “Keith, what about if I want more of something?”
His chuckle held a hint of devilry. “You can beg. I like hearing you beg. But that doesn’t mean you’ll get what you want. You’re not in a position to demand anything. You’re mine. Pleasure or pain, you take what I give, and you thank me for it.”
The inherent unfairness of this struck her wrong just then. At the same time, it thrilled her to no end. She was in his hands. His. Just like she’d always wanted.
He inclined his head toward the door. “Let’s go to the dungeon. When we get inside, I’m going to show you where to kneel. Whenever we enter the dungeon, whether or not we intend to do a scene, you’ll follow the same protocol. Kneeling tells us both you cede complete control to me, that you trust your body to me. It also tells me that you accept my rule in the dungeon.”
She nodded, knowing words weren’t necessary. She had yet to find a room that wasn’t his dominion, even at her place.
The door to the dungeon was the same as the interior doors in the rest of his house. Katrina had thought it would be heavier and soundproof. Only the lock on the handle marked it as different. The other doors didn’t have them.
“This only locks from the outside.” He inserted the key and rotated it clockwise. “I’ll never leave you alone inside this room, but the inside knob will open whether or not the outside is secured, so you won’t have to worry about getting stuck.”
He pushed the door open and stepped forward. She followed him to the center of the room and knelt in the place he indicated. She was dying to look around, but she fastened her gaze to a point just in front of her knees, the way he’d taught her. Luckily she didn’t have to wait for long.
“Rise, Kat. You may look around.”
She sprang to her feet and scanned the room. Most the equipment looked familiar or was easy to figure out. She recognized sawhorses, a Saint Andrew’s cross, a spanking bench, a Y-table, and a table that looked a lot like the one in her gynecologist’s office, maybe a little more comfortable. A closer look revealed that most of the equipment had been bolted into the cement floor. Above them, the ceiling had been left unfinished, and the high trusses had been reinforced with two-by-tens. Holes had been drilled into the additional support beams at regular intervals. In several places, chains had been attached, and they dangled from the ceiling.
“What do you think?”
She glanced at Keith, noting that his arms were folded across his chest. He was nervous about her reaction? She struggled for words that were honest and would set him at ease. “Parts of it are what I expected, but I’m wondering about a few things.”
He nodded, a curt movement, and his shoulders remained tense. “Ask.”
She looked up at the nearest chain. “What are the chains for?”
“Suspension, mostly. There will be times when I want to tie you up and suspend you from the ceiling.”
Heat pooled between her thighs at the thought. She knew he would make sure they both enjoyed the experience. She turned to him and lifted a brow. “I have no plans Tuesday and Thursday nights.”
The look in his eyes guaranteed that she now had plans.
She gestured to the far corner. “What’s the exam table for?”
“Playing doctor.” He kissed the top of her head. “My way.”
The thick leather straps attached to the table promised that she’d find her body secured to the table and her legs tied to the stirrups. “You do realize that no women have fantasies about the gynecologist’s office?”
His shrugged as if saying he knew something she didn’t. “Go lie facedown on the Y-table.”
It wasn’t difficult to figure out that the split part was for her legs. Katrina went to that end.
“No, the other end.”
She studied the table, trying to figure out why he gave that order, then remembered she wasn’t in a position to be analytical. When Keith gave an order, it was her job to comply. Immediately and without question. She lowered her body to the narrow, padded strip and prayed he wouldn’t torment her for much longer. The bench part was wide enough to hold her securely, but narrow enough to provide access to her breasts. Her feet dangled off the end she’d originally thought was for her head.
He opened the nearest cupboard and grabbed a few things. She couldn’t quite make out what he held. One looked like a blood glucose monitor. He set them on her back, and she gave up trying to figure it out. He went back to the cupboard, but this time she recognized the rope in his hands.
“Stretch your arms above your head.”
The table wasn’t wide enough to support her shoulders or arms, so she’d let them hang from the sides. Stretching her arms above her head was ungainly for the same reason. She clasped her hands together to keep them from slipping to the sides. Staying like that wouldn’t be possible. In this instance, the ropes would help her stay where he wanted.
But he apparently didn’t want her to remain that way. He took one arm and bent it so that her elbow dropped below the bench and her wrist was above it. “Stay like that.”
Katrina worked out when she could, which translated to about four or five times each month. Or two. She couldn’t maintain that position for very long. Still, she knew better than to argue.
He arranged her other arm the same way on the other side of the bench. If she were standing or lying on her back, she could hold this position with no problem. But she was on her stomach and fighting gravity. Thank goodness he was going to tie her in place.
He wound rope around one elbow, looped it under the table below her head, and secured it to her other elbow. Then he tied her wrists together above the table, forcing her hands to stay at the top of her head. It solved the problem of resting her arms, but the position proved awkward. He played around with the ropes, tugging on them and slipping his fingers beneath to test the give.
When everything was satisfactory, he stood next to her and fiddled with the things on her back. With her head turned and her inability to move, she found herself staring at his crotch. This table was the perfect level for him to slip his cock into her mouth. Saliva pooled on her tongue at the thought, and she swallowed.
Keith said nothing. He put sticky things on her back. From what she could feel, two were just under her shoulder blades on each side, and two were on the muscles she most liked massaged after a long day of research and paperwork.
“I’m going to turn it on. Tell me when it becomes uncomfortable.”
At first, she felt nothing. After several moments, she became aware of a light tapping underneath the sticky things. The tapping sped up and became sharper. It didn’t hurt, but the sensation surprised an unplanned exclamation from her.
“Kat? Does it hurt?”
“It doesn’t. It’s…different. I can’t quite decide if it feels good or just weird. Is this the TENS unit?”
“Yes.” As he said that, the distinction between each tap vanished. Underneath the pads, her muscles bunched and relaxed. The sensation traveled a counterclockwise path around her back, a weird kind of massage. “Oh, now that feels good.”
“I’ll leave it here for now. Close your eyes and relax.”
She gladly complied. Within a minute or so, the physical manifestation of her stress melted away. Her mind drifted on a tide of tranquility. Even when he slid her down the table so that her legs and hips were no longer supported, she clung to that place, stubbornly refusing to leave.
He closed his hand around her ankle and guided her to stand with her legs apart. Ropes wound around her flesh, fastening her to cold metal poles.
Then he turned off the device. She groaned in protest, but she did remember her manners. “Thank you, Keith. That felt nice.” It didn’t do anything for the fire he’d lit in the bedroom, but it did release the tension from deep within her muscles.
More
rope encircled her legs just above her knees. He buckled a thick belt over her lower back, further binding her to the table. She couldn’t move any part of her body, and she took a moment to admire his strategic placement of the ropes. He stood behind her. She could detect no movement, so she deduced he was just looking at her. He was definitely big on the visual aspects of sex.
He caressed her ass, brushing the soft back of his hand over her skin. Since it was still sore from earlier, that touch was magnified a thousand times. She felt the soft, sticky pads as he repositioned two of them low on her ass, only inches from her pussy. The other two ended up high on her thighs, equally close to her vaginal lips. She wasn’t sure about this part of his plan, but she trusted him, so she tabled her reservations. She’d liked the kneading feeling on the places in her back where stress lived. A massage around her pussy couldn’t be anything but pleasurable. Right?
“You have permission to come tonight as often as you can. Don’t temper your reactions. I want to see you and hear you.”
He stated his instructions firmly and with as much devious passion as he’d used the night before when he told her he got off on her pain. Though she’d liked some of the kinds of pain he’d issued, she worried a little.
Tingling under the pads drew her attention away from her fretting thoughts. As the sensation picked up the pace, traveling from pad to pad, it began to feel like she was being slowly fucked. She liked the feeling, but she would rather it was closer to her pussy.
“Keith? Could you maybe put one of those pads on my clit?” Her voice came out thin and flat. Thin because she was a prisoner of the electricity pulsing through her ass. Flat because her cheek was pressed against the bench.
“It’s not safe to do that, Kitty Kat. Dry skin only.” He slapped a flogger lightly against her ass. The falls landed together, but they fell down her behind by themselves, scraping against her tender skin. “Don’t worry. We have all night.”
As the last of the falls slithered down her flesh, he lifted them. He ran them up her back and down her legs, sensitizing her skin to what was about to happen. Her heart beat faster, because she knew he would deliver on his promises.