Shockwave (Impulse Book 1) Read online

  Her cunt was shaved bare. Fuck.

  He could let her leave her clothing on the floor. Or he could watch her a little longer. “Pick up both things.”

  She bent to retrieve them. Garters stretched across her ass but slackened in the front. The contrast of the black material against her sun-kissed skin made him very much aware of being a man. God, could she be any lovelier?

  As he cleared off the top of the desk, moving everything to the credenza, she placed her clothing on a chair then took a step toward the desk.

  “Wait.”

  She froze. “Master Nathaniel?”

  “I’ve decided I want to look at you for a moment. Move both of those chairs out of the way then go stand near that light.” He was so unaccountably pleased with her that he wanted to wad up the warning document.

  Alani scooted one chair to the right of the room. The second, she placed against the far wall. She didn’t ask for clarification. Instead, she went and stood near the light. She rolled back her shoulders and dropped her hands at her sides.

  “Place your feet shoulder-width apart. Link your hands behind your neck.”

  Her movements were slow and elegant, and within moments, she was properly in position. Standing in front of him like this, she had no secrets. Her waist was nipped in, but her belly had a slight, feminine swell.

  And, Jesus, he noticed her legs.

  She was a petite but powerful package.

  Her stockings ended near the tops of her thighs, and the garters lay alluringly against her skin. He wondered what her legs would feel like wrapped around his as he fucked her ragged. His cock hardened even more.

  No wonder Braxton had been reluctant to let her go. Although her behavior needed to be corrected, Braxton had made it clear he didn’t want Limits to lose Alani. She was sexy, sin and innocence in the same package.

  Nathaniel knew she’d been born in Hawaii. Even though she’d spent the last fifteen years in the Rocky Mountain west, her skin was still a golden bronze. Her hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back like a midnight waterfall.

  Through her sheer blouse, he saw her breasts were full and firm. The tips had hardened to tight, inviting peaks. “How sensitive are your nipples?”

  “Somewhat.”

  “Sir,” he prompted.

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “Somewhat, Sir.”

  From her quick, modulated response, he knew she understood that they were now involved in a scene.

  “Does the pain help you get off?”

  “Yes, Sir. It does.”

  “So you’re a bit of a masochist, Alani?” Even though her head was bent, he noticed a soft flush creep up her cheeks. Well, well. A professional sub who still has some hesitations.

  “Yes, Sir. I’m afraid I’m more than just a bit of a masochist.”

  Which also might help explain her boredom and arm him with ammunition to give her the mindfuck she wanted. “So, in general, withholding pain is punishment to you. Am I correct?”

  She sounded miserable when she admitted, “I suppose so, Sir.”

  Good to know. “Spread your legs farther apart. Is your clit swollen?”

  “Yes, Master Nathaniel.”

  Their conversation aroused her. How much more responsive would she be when he laid leather to her body?

  The woman before him was so different from the saucy one he’d seen interact with Master Richard. With him, she was much more subdued. He preferred some sort of hybrid. “No pretense with me, Alani. I want everything you have to offer. Listen to me. Look at me.” He waited until she did. “If you hide your reactions or give me false ones, you won’t get what you want. Be honest. Real. Be you. Do you understand and agree?”

  “Yes.” She nodded.

  “Good. Then when you’re ready, remove your blouse.”

  Alani unfastened the buttons from bottom to top. Most likely that was the way Braxton had trained her. If only by a few seconds, the anticipation built.

  She shrugged off the sheer material and draped it over the chair.

  Without being reminded, she placed her hands behind her head again. Nathaniel sucked in a breath. He had told her to be honest, but self-preservation demanded he focus on her and not how hard his cock was. “Pinch your nipples for me, Alani.”

  With her head bowed, she followed his instructions.

  “Harder.”

  She tugged on her nipples, twisting and pulling.

  “Harder.”

  Her eyes closed as she applied more and more pressure.

  “Is your pussy wet, little sub?”

  “It is, Sir,” she whispered around a plaintive, expressive exhalation.

  “Show me, my beautiful Alani.”

  She opened her eyes wide.

  “I want to see.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her eyelids drooped.

  His language and demand had no doubt been a shock but one that turned her on.

  Alani released one breast. She slid her free hand down her stomach and across her bare pubic area before delving lower to ease her fingers between her legs.

  She behaved as if she were giving him a private exhibition, and he didn’t object. She was sensuous, and he’d bet most of it was unconscious and unrehearsed.

  Drawing out the motion, she inserted her first two fingers into her pussy.

  He noticed how deliberate her actions were. She was being careful not to brush her engorged clit. Smart girl. He hadn’t given her permission to touch herself there.

  She finger-fucked herself for a couple of strokes, gyrating her hips as she surrendered.

  “Uhm,” she said, the single word drawn out into a moan. “Thank you, Sir.”

  Damn, he could watch her all day.

  He was developing a sudden and real appreciation for this petite sub with sun-kissed skin. He wanted to dig his hands into her dark, thick hair, holding her head captive while he fucked her from behind. Her liquid eyes held secrets and her lush mouth held untold promises.

  Unlike earlier this evening, there was nothing affected about her behavior.

  She held out a hand and showed him the moisture on her fingertips.

  “Taste yourself,” he told her.

  Holding his gaze, she brought her fingers up to her mouth and gently sucked.

  Jesus.

  Her actions were brazen as she licked, then sucked again. She was simulating giving him head.

  He resisted the need to adjust his slacks. His cock hadn’t been this hard in seven months, since before he’d left for Iraq. But there was no way was he letting this little minx know how much power she had. “The desk, Alani. Now.”

  She dropped her hand to her sides. “Are you going to spank me, Sir?”

  Her words were soft and seductive, a dance constructed to feed his ego. It might work for other Doms, but never him.

  “Will it hurt, Sir?”

  He folded his arms. “We discussed this, Alani. So cut the bullshit.”

  “Sir?” She blinked.

  He liked having this lovely woman off balance. “We have an agreement, you and me. No games, bullshit, subterfuge, whatever you call it. I’m not paying for your time or needing you to feed my ego. Get your ass over the desk or walk away.”

  Her eyes widened, but she moved.

  Many times over the years, carrying an assault rifle and wearing body armor, he’d faced a cold and hardened enemy. But that didn’t seem to be as much of a challenge as Alani posed. “Reach your arms across the desk and hold on to the far side. No matter how much you are tempted, do not let go.”

  She took her sweet time getting into position. It wasn’t long enough to goad him into a temper, but it was far longer than it needed to be.

  For a few seconds, she wriggled about, and he enjoyed the sight of her breasts pressed against the gleaming wooden surface. Since she was so petite, gripping the far side meant she had to stretch.

  The stiletto heels emphasized the musculature of her calves. Her silk stockings snuggled her thighs and lower le
gs.

  But the view of her exposed skin above the lacy tops of her stockings was the real turn on. The black garters drew attention to the swell of her buttocks, soon to be reddened. “Beautiful.” He stepped back. “Spread your legs farther apart. I want better access to your pussy.”

  “Sir?”

  “I intend to torment every part of you. And that includes your cunt.”

  Her head was turned to the right, so he couldn’t tell whether she was pleased or scared. He waited her out, and less than five seconds later, she spread her legs. “What’s your safe word?”

  “Will I need one, Sir?”

  “I insist.”

  “‘Ula. It means red in Hawaiian, Sir.”

  “What’s your understanding of using a safe word?”

  “I’m confused. What are you asking, Sir?”

  This—she—was more complicated than he’d thought. “Stand up and face me.” He offered a hand.

  With obvious reluctance, she accepted. He marveled at how small her palm was and how hard a need to protect her staggered him.

  What the hell was it about this appealing, challenging woman that blazed past his defenses as if they had never existed?

  He released her and she tipped her head back. Her hair fell over her shoulders and defiance blazed in her dark, rich eyes.

  “Do we have to talk? I trust you.”

  “But I don’t trust you.”

  She sucked in a shaky breath then forced it out.

  “So, yeah. We’re going to do this. Tell me more about when you use a safe word and the things that are on your limits list.”

  Alani sighed.

  “Roll your eyes, little sub, show any sign of impatience and you’ll be out of this office so fast you won’t realize you moved.” Even to his ears, his voice had taken on a dangerous tone she’d do well to heed. “If you want to play with me, you’ll show proper respect.”

  “I’m sure I won’t need to use a safe word.”

  “What’s your understanding if you do use one? That we’d end the scene? Renegotiate? Talk? Check in, then continue?”

  She shook her head. “That you’d stop whatever you were doing. And that we’d move on to something else. But this is hypothetical, Sir. I’ve never safe worded out of a scene.”

  Because she hadn’t been challenged enough? “How about a word for slow?”

  “I don’t have one.”

  “Why is that? Because you discuss limits with your Doms ahead of time?”

  “Most times, no.”

  He wanted to strangle those men. “You like to live on the edge?”

  His fearless little sub shrugged.

  “Is that it?” Nathaniel pressed his thumb to his temple.

  “No.”

  “Last warning. The correct form of address is Sir.”

  “Yes. Sir.”

  “So what is it, Alani?”

  “I want to achieve subspace.”

  He nodded. The heady, addictive mix of neurological chemicals, that, he understood. “That’s not happening tonight.”

  She blinked.

  “We’d need more time for that. And I’d want to be in a more private setting.” Nathaniel blocked several hours off his schedule when planning a scene that intense. He ensured the sub had a safe return and plenty of time to recover if she experienced an emotional or mental drop afterward. He was too aware of his obligations to take her there without being prepared in advance.

  “But…”

  “Another time. If you wish.”

  Even though she nodded, she frowned.

  “What’s your punishment of choice?

  “Whatever Sir chooses.”

  The harsher the better? How had she lasted two years at Limits without getting into trouble before now? “What’s on your limits list?”

  “Nothing unusual, Sir.”

  Christ. “Be specific.”

  She glanced at the clock, as if he was wasting her time.

  “Last fucking chance, Alani.” He caught her chin and forced her to look at him.

  “Everything that’s posted as a club rule. Nothing that would get you arrested in polite society.” She smirked. “I’d hate to have to bail you out.”

  Mouthy sub. With great effort, he suppressed a grin. “Sensory deprivation?”

  Her hips moved, as if the idea turned her on. “I’m fine with that, Sir.”

  “Crop?”

  “No problems, Sir.”

  “Cane?”

  She flinched.

  Nathaniel regarded her. The reaction had been slight, fast. But he had noted it.

  “I can manage it, Sir.”

  “Give me more information.”

  “I prefer it be wielded with care.” Then, as if she’d revealed too much, she went on. “Since you have no intention of taking me to subspace, I doubt you’d give me anything I can’t handle.”

  “You’ve had a bad experience? And, yes, I want to know about it.”

  “A bruised kidney.”

  Nathaniel winced.

  “It was a long time ago. Before I worked at Limits.”

  “Were you playing without a safe word?”

  “No, Sir. I just didn’t use it.”

  “And I’m guessing you hadn’t told him it was on your limits list?”

  “Until that experience, it hadn’t been.”

  Alani Dane, sweet, strong, stubborn sub, needed someone to look after her. “Yet you would have allowed me to cane you tonight?”

  “Of course, Sir. I like the marks.”

  Even though she’d been injured, she was still unwilling to take it off the table? Nathaniel scowled. He understood the allure of endorphins that she found in subspace. And he was certain it was similar to the sensation of being in combat. He thrived in those moments, walking the precipice of survival, unsure whether he’d live through the day. Every sense was slammed with hyperawareness.

  If he were honest, that was why he drove his vehicles too fast, too near the edge of Colorado’s mountain passes. Extreme skiing and rock climbing came close to the rush, but nothing compared to battle.

  And still, he wanted her to experience mastery of herself and the joy that came from pleasure. Different from that of pain, but no less spectacular. “I want a word for slow. And don’t you dare tell me you won’t need it.”

  In a clash of wills, she met his gaze. Since he intended to prevail, he gave her all the time she needed.

  “Yellow, Sir.”

  He nodded. “And my safe word is red.”

  “What?”

  “I refuse to be goaded. If I use a safe word, the scene will cease. You will honor it the same way I will respect yours.”

  “That’s…unusual.”

  So was she. So was this. “And my requirement.” He held firm.

  “Will you need it?”

  Would she always test him? “Depends on you, Alani.”

  “I agree, Sir.”

  “In that case, we’ll use my belt tonight.”

  She spread her legs just a little farther apart in silent, maybe unconscious, invitation.

  “How many would you like?”

  Her shoulders relaxed. Her eyes took on a faraway look as she sank somewhere inside herself, responding to his voice, shutting out the world, perhaps anticipating the thrill. “As many as Sir is generous enough to give me.”

  “In that case, we’re in agreement.”

  She released a soft huff.

  Disappointment? With him? His choice? “I beg your pardon?”

  “That’s…”

  He waited.

  “Perfect, Master Nathaniel.”

  “I want you back over the desk.”

  A smile flirted with her lips. His lovely little masochist.

  After she draped herself across the desk, he stood behind her and rubbed her ass cheeks and upper thighs, increasing blood flow to the area so she wouldn’t bruise. Her skin was soft, supple, inviting.

  Her movements marred the surface of the desk. Soon,
he hoped, it would also be covered with her tears.

  She inched backward, seeking his touch.

  “Stay still, sub. We’ll go at my pace.”

  “I’d prefer we got to it right away, Sir.”

  “And I’d rather have your pussy weeping for an orgasm and you walking around forbidden to touch yourself.”

  “That’s cruel.”

  “That would be true punishment. Don’t make me leave you unfulfilled.” He pinched her clit.

  “Ow.” She arched her spine.

  After she exhaled and resettled, he prompted, “Do you have something to say?”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You do have some rudimentary manners.”

  “I’ll try to do better, Sir.”

  He crossed to the far side of the desk then shoved aside Braxton’s chair. “Unbuckle my belt.” He knew the order wasn’t an easy one to follow.

  As she lifted her head, she released her grip on the desk.

  “Be quick.”

  She fumbled. Despite his instruction, he didn’t care if it took her a long time. The sight of her being so obedient, her hair spilled everywhere, was its own reward. “Shall I deduct more stripes?”

  “No, Sir!”

  He grinned, glad she was looking down at his crotch and not up at his face. He didn’t want her to know how much she delighted him.

  Within a second, the buckle released.

  “Now take off my belt and present it to me.”

  She gave a long, firm tug, her body moving about a bit on the desk. After she’d removed the belt, she folded it in half and extended her arms toward him.

  He accepted the offering. “Italian leather was meant to blister your fine ass, Alani.”

  She didn’t answer, and he didn’t push.

  “You’ll count each stripe aloud and thank me.”

  This time, when she didn’t answer, he dug his hand into her hair, near her scalp, and yanked her head back. “Do I need to repeat myself, Alani?”

  Her eyes were darker than they had been before. “No, Sir,” she whispered. “I’ll count each one and thank you, Sir.”

  Interesting. Her tone changed when she was going deeper inside her head, being acquiescent rather than assertive. Step one. And he appreciated that she wasn’t trying to manipulate him. “Back into position.”

  She gripped the desk again and shifted her hips. Her head was turned to the right, her cheekbone pressed against the sealed wood.