Shockwave (Impulse Book 1) Page 15

  He paced the floor before harnessing the energy and forcing himself to fill the sink and wash the dishes.

  Her feminine scent lingered. He’d enjoyed last night’s demonstration at the club, then the way she’d been so perfect back here. More than he’d thought he would, he’d liked waking up next to her and sliding his hard dick into her hot cunt. He’d appreciated the way she’d opened up to him. But he didn’t fool himself. So far, what they had was sex, sadism and masochism with a little dash of forced submission. He had no idea if she could give him anything more. Or if she wanted to.

  His cock didn’t care, even if she’d battered his ego.

  His cell phone vibrated on the counter, and he frowned. A call at nine o’clock on Sunday morning meant only one thing. He checked the display, confirming the caller identification.

  His boss.

  So much for R & R.

  So much for time with the sexy little sub waiting for him.

  Chapter Nine

  Alani debated what to do.

  The man was a contradiction. His furnishings were sparse but high-end, and the few items he kept around were luxurious rather than utilitarian.

  Her hair was still a little damp, so she searched for a blow-dryer and found one beneath the sink. Since he kept his hair close-cut, she doubted he had much use for the beauty appliance, so someone must have left it there. She told herself it didn’t matter. He could have a dozen women—subs—who spent the night, and it didn’t change a thing. The two of them didn’t have a relationship. He could fuck whoever he wanted.

  But she was lying to herself.

  She gritted her teeth against the unaccustomed and unwelcome feeling of jealousy. What they’d shared over the past twelve or thirteen hours had changed something inside her. She warned herself not to want something more, but a tiny, wayward, unwelcome part of her did.

  After her hair had dried, she retracted the cord and returned the blow-dryer.

  She heard the rich tones of Master Nathaniel’s voice coming from the kitchen. Since she didn’t hear any other voices, she assumed he was on the phone and that he didn’t have visitors.

  If she were a proper sub, she’d wait for him, naked, in the bedroom.

  But she wasn’t concerned with the need to mind her own business, despite the fact he’d given specific instructions on where to meet him.

  She walked toward the kitchen, and as she got closer dropped to her knees and crawled the rest of the way.

  He gave her a crisp nod of acknowledgment when she entered the kitchen but he continued his conversation. A furrow of concentration was buried between his eyebrows and his lips were pressed in a tight line.

  She knelt up in the middle of the room, spreading her thighs apart. Then she sucked on her index finger before stroking it across her clit.

  “I understand.” A few seconds later, he ended the call then slid his phone on the counter and faced her. He folded his arms across his chest before instructing, “Finish what you started.”

  “Sir?”

  “I was watching you. You’re never as sneaky as you think.” He rested his hips against the countertop. “Masturbate. Hump your hand. I want to see you move and writhe and get into it. Give me a show.”

  Embarrassed, she froze. It was one thing to touch herself when she wasn’t certain he’d been watching. It was another to be wanton in the middle of his kitchen.

  “Since you didn’t comply, you can also finger-fuck your ass.”

  My ass?

  “Get it ready for me.”

  As experienced as she was, she’d never played with her own hole. He was a master at shocking her. No matter how she tried to get the upper hand, he was ahead of her. She’d been hoping to distract him, to make him want her, but he seemed uninterested.

  “Stalling will cost you, Alani.”

  She played with her pussy with her right hand, and she drew some of the moisture toward her rear to use as lubrication.

  Kukae. This was more difficult than she could have imagined. She twisted and contorted her body in ways she hadn’t before so that she could work her ass and her pussy at the same time. Her movements were jerky as she struggled to find a rhythm. How could he find this sexy?

  “That’s so much better,” he said. “I like it very much.”

  His words refocused her and she forgot about her awkwardness. As much as she fought it, a part of her wanted to please this man.

  “Give me more. Don’t hold back.”

  Shoving aside everything but his order, she tossed her hair over her shoulders then gyrated. Still struggling, she closed her eyes and moaned, pretending Master Nathaniel were touching her.

  She surrendered to the only thing that mattered, pleasing her Dom.

  “That’s it. But whatever you do, do not come. That’s for me.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Of course, now that he’d told her that, an orgasm began to build. Alani jerked her hips reflexively. Her clit became a hardened little nub. She rubbed it frantically as she worked a finger in and out of her anal whorl. She wanted…

  “Stop.”

  Exhaling in frustration, dragged back to reality, she dropped her hands to her sides. She kept her gaze downcast. Her entire body throbbed. She wanted, needed release. He had to have known what he’d done to her. Curse him a dozen times.

  “Did you crawl all the way here from the bedroom?”

  “What?”

  His abrupt change made her blink. She’d been on the verge of a powerful orgasm and her blood still pounded. He wanted to talk about whether she’d walked or crawled from the bedroom?

  With infinite patience, as if he were setting a trap, he asked, “Did you get on your hands and knees in the bedroom and crawl to the kitchen? Or did you crawl from the hallway?”

  She thought fast. Had he seen her? Did he know, one way or the other? Should she tell the truth? Or could she manage to lie to him without betraying herself?

  “A lie will always be found out, Alani.”

  She had no idea how he’d know, but he watched her reactions intently. She didn’t doubt his statement. “I walked most of the way, Sir.”

  “Why? Because I wouldn’t know the difference. Because you thought it would be okay to be disobedient? No harm, no foul?”

  “Correct, Sir,” she said, the earlier flutter of arousal replaced with tendrils of fear. His face was unreadable, but his body language was fierce, as if he were restraining his power and reactions.

  “I appreciate the fact you told the truth. That will make your punishment less severe.”

  “Punishment, Sir?”

  “We’ve had this conversation. You know I don’t like being manipulated, Alani.” His posture was still relaxed, but his words unnerved her. “I told you to wait for me. Since I was longer than expected, I don’t hold it against you that you came looking for me. And since we’re working out some sort of relationship, I don’t even mind that you eavesdropped. But you should have showed patience, proper etiquette, in my preferred position instead of playing with yourself like a naughty, horny slut.”

  “Sir, I am a naughty, horny slut.” In a whisper, she added, “But only for you.” She noticed he was becoming aroused. His dick pressed against his jeans. She might be in trouble, but he was as hot for her as she was for him.

  He dropped his arms. “What I want as the Dom who’s in charge here,” he said, “is for you to behave as a proper submissive. Crawl, unless given permission to walk.”

  She winced. It had seemed pointless to crawl across the house, but he was right. That was his decision to make, his rule to enforce.

  “Hands behind your back.”

  After she complied, he added, “Stay exactly where you are. I mean exactly. Do not kneel back.”

  He pushed away from the counter and walked past her. She exhaled a shaky little breath. The man confounded her. Her pussy was still damp and her nipples were hard. She wanted to be touched.

  Her knees grew tired. Her muscles became fatigued. Even though th
e heater cycled, a chill danced across her skin. How long did he plan to leave her here?

  She wished he’d just practice corporal punishment like normal Doms. Leaving her alone like this was torture.

  With a scowl, she glanced at her clothes. It would take less than three minutes to dress and be on her way.

  But she didn’t.

  Realization, in a shockwave that left her shaking, slammed into her. She wanted to be a sub, and not just any sub—his sub. She wanted to be handled the way he handled her, treated the uncompromising way he treated her. Under his tutelage, she relaxed, settled.

  Distant sounds of movement drifted to her, but she had no idea what he was doing.

  She stayed in position. On the clock, she watched the seconds drag into minutes. She’d been there, behaving, for almost a quarter of an hour when he returned.

  “Get on all fours.” His words were quiet, firm, a demand rather than a request, leaving no room for argument.

  He moved her hair to one side and bent to fasten a collar around her neck. She momentarily stiffened in surprise. His eyes were frosty and he bore the scent of determination. She shuddered.

  “We’re going into the guest room. The door before you get to the master bedroom.”

  He crouched in front of her. He held up a leash. “Just so you don’t forget in future,” he said.

  She swallowed. More than any man she’d been with, he made sure the punishment fit the crime.

  He attached the leash to her collar. She blushed from embarrassment, hyperaware of her movements as she crawled toward the back bedroom. The lead was fairly long, and he allowed all the slack to be taken out before following her.

  “You’ll remember to crawl in future, unless given permission to do otherwise?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Being on hands and knees was horribly uncomfortable, and she was hoping his words meant she could stand, but obviously, he was just reiterating his rules.

  Once she was in the bedroom, she gaped.

  The space had been converted into a playroom.

  The floors were a highly glossed wood and a spanking bench dominated the middle of the floor. A St. Andrew’s cross was pushed to one side. Dozens of items were affixed to the wall, from bondage paraphernalia to gags and plugs, to whips, canes and floggers.

  It was a masochist’s fantasy.

  There were only a few other things in the room—hooks attached to the ceilings and walls, a small table and an uncomfortable-looking high-backed wooden chair.

  “Up on the spanking bench,” he said before she could take it all in. He continued, “I want your torso on the top rail, your knees on the side rails, and I want your ass sticking out so I can fuck it hard.”

  Getting into position took several attempts, and she wasn’t as graceful as she would have liked. Once she was situated, she pressed her upper body against the padded rail. She turned her head to the right so she could see his wall of torture.

  He adjusted the side rails so her legs were unnaturally high. The position was awkward, leaving her private area more exposed. She watched him select a cane. He whipped it through the air a couple of times and smacked it lightly against his calf.

  She clenched her butt cheeks in fear.

  “Ass higher,” he said, turning back to her.

  She tried again.

  He crossed to her and laid a stripe across the tops of her thighs. She screamed but arched her back and thrust her rear out. “Thank you, Sir.” This was magic.

  “Better,” he said. “Hold that position.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and willed away the pain. She breathed deeply and consciously uncurled her hands.

  The pain had been exquisite, nothing at all like her previous experiences. She was sure he’d chosen it purposefully to prove she could trust him.

  He replaced the cane—thank God—and grabbed a number of fabric cuffs.

  “I’m going to secure you to the bench,” he said.

  “Yes, Sir.” She’d been attached to crosses and benches before, but never like this. He pulled each arm as far as possible and attached her cuffs to small metal hooks built into the bench. Most of her Doms had just spread her as far as comfortable. This position made it difficult to take a deep breath.

  He secured her knees to the rails and secured her ankles to the front of the bench so that she couldn’t pull back.

  “Scared?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Louder.”

  “Yes, Sir. I’m scared.”

  “You should be.” He removed the collar and leash. “This will be a punishment beating. Tell me why you’re receiving it.”

  “Sir, I interrupted your call. I walked when I should have crawled. I didn’t wait quietly.”

  “You touched yourself without permission.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t know that was forbidden.”

  “You most certainly did know. We talked about it after the demo at the club. Your cunt belongs to me. When you’re with me, you will touch yourself when I give you permission. Likely it will be because I want you to masturbate for me or my guests.” He slapped her ass hard.

  She yelped. “Yes, Sir. I understand.”

  “We can negotiate what happens when we’re apart. But you need permission to go against my will.”

  God, he turned her on. She loved how implacable he was. Despite her misgivings, fears and insistence that she wasn’t a submissive, she was falling for him. The thought terrified her.

  He turned back to the wall and she watched him shamelessly. He selected several things, including a gag, and placed them on the small tabletop.

  He brought over a strop for her to look at. “Do you know what this is?”

  “A strop, Sir?” She frowned. It wasn’t made of leather as she would have expected. She’d never seen anything quite like this.

  “It’s a strop, yes. But it’s made of rubber rather than leather. Fair warning, subs either hate it or like it. There’s no in between. It’s directional. It’s more vicious than leather. You’re such a painslut, I’m inclined to believe you’ll like it.”

  “Uhm, where are you going to use it?”

  “On your pussy.”

  Blood rushed to her face, and her head swam from the sudden dizziness. The black rubber strop was about a quarter inch wide, fifteen inches long, thin and threatening.

  “I won’t use it until I’ve warmed you up.”

  “It’s that brutal?”

  “Worse.”

  She gulped.

  “I’ll give you three strokes with it, no more. The first will likely shock you. The second will be intolerable. The third will crush you. It’s meant as punishment for you touching the cunt that belongs to me, especially since you were trying to manipulate me. It’s meant as discipline, as a reminder that you’re not allowed to masturbate without permission. Unless you use your safe word, I intend to enjoy every moment of punishing you with it.” He paused. “Your choice, as always.”

  He was a bit of a bastard.

  If he’d simply used it, she wouldn’t have objected. But in a cold, calculating manner, he’d built her anticipation and fear. And, damn it, more than anything, her curiosity. “I want to try it.”

  “All three strokes? Or just one?”

  “Three. Please don’t stop, Sir.”

  “That’s my brave girl.”

  He took out a large squirt bottle filled with lube. “I intend to punish you for misbehaving. And because you’ll like it. I am going to fuck your hot pussy and your tiny little ass.”

  Alani was ready. Maybe not for the anal part, but she definitely wanted him. It was as if their earlier sex had merely been an appetizer. She wanted the entire meal.

  “You told me that first time that you were okay with sensory deprivation.”

  “I like blindfolds.” They allowed her to get more lost in a scene. Having no distractions—like his naked chest or tight buns or the whips he wanted to use—would enable her to sur
render to the moment more completely. She found it also made her sense of hearing more acute, and it allowed her to feel the pain more keenly.

  “Tune in to my voice,” he told her as he secured a blindfold. “I’ll talk to you. I won’t leave you alone in this room. Talk to me, Alani, if you need to.”

  He stroked her spine. She splayed her fingers. “You’re so erotic, Sir. That’s a turn-on.”

  He massaged her buttocks, then he tapped them half a dozen times. “Your ass gets so red. I may have to take a photograph of it.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “You’d like that? That’s not a limit?”

  “As long as you keep any prints private.”

  “There’s no fucking way I would share you, Alani.”

  At the gruff, possessive note in his voice, she shivered. Everything he said turned her on. “Then take as many as you want.” She’d never considered it before, but the idea appealed to the exhibitionist in her.

  “The camera is in my office.”

  “I’ll be all right if you hurry.”

  Within seconds, he called out, “Breathe, Alani!”

  How well he knew her. She smiled and relaxed, allowing the bench to take more of her weight.

  “I’m proud of you,” he said a few seconds later.

  He hadn’t been gone as long as she’d feared he might be.

  Master Nathaniel moved her hair, repositioned her then clicked the shutter a few times. He repeated the process twice more, then there was silence.

  “Beautiful,” he said. “They’re good shots. Sometime, we’ll set up a video camera.”

  The idea of having video of them in a scene turned her on. “If I can watch you masturbate to it, Sir.”

  “If this is the way you respond, you’ve given me incentive to keep you permanently bound and blindfolded.”

  After snapping a couple more pictures, he rubbed her buttocks and thighs. “You’re such a perfect submissive.”