Shockwave (Impulse Book 1) Page 5

  He walked behind her. Her cunt was wetter now than it had been. Their brief interaction had been enough to arouse her?

  Suddenly he was hungry to sink his cock deep inside her hot pussy. But that wouldn’t happen, no matter how desperate he was.

  It’d been a while since he’d beaten a woman. He was methodical in his approach to BDSM. Every hit was precise. He caused no accidental pain.

  Nathaniel crossed to one of the chairs. She angled her head, probably hoping to see what he was doing, but he was far enough behind her that he remained out of view.

  After tucking the buckle against his palm, he wrapped the belt once around his hand. He flexed his wrist, feeling the welcome and familiar responsiveness of the leather.

  He sighted in on a mark on the chair’s arm and swung. The tip of the belt landed in the exact spot he’d chosen.

  Alani murmured.

  Deliberately he paused, building her anticipation.

  He changed his stance and his hold on the belt and placed a few more hits, this time with the thick part of it.

  Satisfied he could control his swing, he walked toward her. He turned at a slight angle before spreading his legs for balance.

  She lifted her ass just a bit in a silent invitation.

  He smiled. Had he instructed her to prepare for the punishment, he would have been pleased. But the temptress in her was attempting to direct his lash. “Beg me.”

  “Please,” she responded right away. “I want to feel your belt on my ass, Sir. I want you to beat me, to punish me. Make me cry, Sir, make me hurt.”

  Nathaniel didn’t give either of them any more time to think.

  He landed the first hit hard on the back of her thighs, just above her knees.

  Alani cried out. The leather had to have stung. She likely hadn’t been prepared for the strike in that area. Most Doms would have gone for the obvious, her upper thighs or her hot, rounded ass.

  He liked delivering the unexpected hit. That he’d added a bite of pain was a double bonus. “I’m waiting, Alani.”

  “One. Thank you, Sir!”

  Before she’d finished expressing her gratitude, he placed another stripe on her right thigh, directly on top of the first. He flicked his wrist so that the tip of the belt provided a wicked bite. He took no break between the strokes, delivering the third to her left leg.

  Her body jerked, and she hissed as she moved back into position.

  “Two and three, Sir.”

  She took a breath. Maybe to regain her composure? Even through the silk of her stockings, he saw that her skin had reddened. A thin welt lay there as proof of his possession.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Where would you like the next one?”

  “Sir?”

  “Choose.”

  “Beneath my buttocks, Sir.”

  “There’s nothing I’d like more.” He adjusted his stance and obliged her request, striking with an upward motion.

  “Kukae!”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I mean four, thank you, Sir!”

  “That’s better.” He was taking his time now, letting her absorb the pain.

  Once her breathing returned to near-normal, he hit her buttocks twice, forming a heated red X across her skin. The sight, accented by the black garters, made his cock throb.

  “Five, six, Sir,” she whispered. “Thank you, Sir.” She exhaled again, this time through her nose. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He repeated the motion with the next two.

  She was silent for a moment. Her breathing was even. She hadn’t counted, hadn’t said thank you. He knew it wasn’t from disobedience, but because she was already getting lost inside her own head.

  Her body was supple from relaxation. Her butt cheeks were unclenched and her legs were parted. Amazing. Could she achieve subspace from a few strikes?

  “How are you doing, Alani?” A lovely sheen of sweat covered her exposed skin. “Are you comfortable enough?” He shook the belt, giving him time to slow down the scene and drag her back from the edge.

  She lifted her head to look at him and drew her well-sculpted eyebrows together in a ferocious scowl. Her fingers tightened. “Yes, I’m fine, Sir.”

  “Nothing hurts too bad?”

  “Not at all, Sir.”

  “Anything you want more of, less of?”

  “Could we just get back to it?”

  “In a few moments.” He shook out his wrist and readjusted the belt, coiling it up a bit. “How many more would you like?”

  Her eyes were open, and she seemed to be staring at the flower vase on the credenza. She frowned. “As many as you’ll give me.”

  After a few strikes, her breathing evened out. Her eyes drifted closed, and her body barely moved when the leather fell. “Alani?”

  She mumbled something incoherent. Her grip on the desk slackened.

  He hated that she had no one to give this to her. As quickly as he’d had the thought, he quashed it. He didn’t want any other Dom near her.

  Determined not to let her slide into subspace and just as determined to ensure this was the experience she’d been missing, he said, “Move your body toward me as much as you can.”

  “But—”

  “Show me your pussy.”

  She slid backward then spread her legs and lifted up onto her tiptoes. Beautiful masochist. He intended to abuse her cunt with the bite of leather, and she hungrily asked for it.

  He hadn’t succeeded in making her cry, but her pussy was certainly wet.

  So she didn’t know what to expect, he laid the belt to the back of her thighs, above her knees.

  She grunted out a protest.

  Before she settled, he adjusted his swing and caught her pussy with the tip of his belt.

  This time, she shrieked.

  He tossed aside the belt, sank to his knees, grabbed her hips and pulled her back until his face was in her tortured cunt. He licked her, aware of her moans. He stuck his tongue inside her. And when she tried to pull away, he yanked her back and sucked hard on her abused clit. “Don’t you fucking come yet.” He licked her hard, again.

  Her body jerked, pressing her pussy down onto his face. Obviously she’d released her grip and surrendered to her body’s demands.

  “Sir! I need…”

  “I know.” Nathaniel continued his assault. Despite his earlier threat to leave her pussy weeping for an orgasm, he wanted her to come as proof of her capitulation to his dominance, recognition that she’d lost the battle to him.

  He devoured her with his tongue, with tormenting bites.

  Moments later, she screamed and came in a heated gush.

  So damn hot and perfect. He’d never met anyone like her. Damn it. The priceless painslut was getting to him.

  Resisting the urge to stroke off his raging hard-on, he moved away and pushed to his feet while he still could.

  Keeping his focus on Alani, he rubbed her back, worked knots from her shoulders, massaged her legs and buttocks. “How are you?” He asked the question several times before she responded.

  “Wonderful.”

  Even though she protested, he helped her up. Since her knees wobbled, he swept her into his arms before carrying her to the chair. He sat with her in his lap.

  “Fuck me, Sir?” she begged.

  He wanted nothing more than to be buried in her hot, wet cunt. Denying her was damn difficult. “I’m sorry, Alani. This isn’t the right time.”

  Chapter Three

  “What?” Alani lifted her head from Master Nathaniel’s shoulder. The room shifted and spun and she allowed her head to drop back to where it had been. “I don’t understand.” He’d given her a spectacular orgasm, but she craved that heady cocktail of endorphins that gave her relief.

  No man, ever, had refused to have sex with her after a scene when she’d offered. Plenty of times, she’d turned down a request, but she’d never been rejected.

  “We didn’t discuss this. It’s not the right time or
place.”

  “What’s to discuss? We’re grownups, we want to fuck. So let’s do it.” She started to pull away, but he tightened his muscular arms around her and held her fast.

  “It’s more complicated than that.” He tucked wayward strands of hair behind her ears. “You’re a desirable woman.”

  His heart thudded beneath her ear. Disappointment plowed through her, but she didn’t have the strength to argue with him.

  Alani wasn’t sure how long he held her, but her body started to cool as perspiration dried.

  Despite herself, she relaxed, surrendering to his ministrations, wondering what it might be like to have this all the time…an incredible beating followed by gentle care. She enjoyed it and that annoyed her enough to place a hand on his chest and push away.

  Instead of letting her flee, he ordered, “Please kneel.”

  As if either of them believed his words were a request. The order, at least, brought her some kind of normalcy.

  She slid from his lap then knelt and had to catch herself when she wobbled. The act reignited the burn where he’d hit her on the backs of the legs. No one had ever struck her there, and kukae, his belt had hurt. The man wielded his punishment tool well. He’d returned to the same sensitive spot several times, and she knew the pain would linger for a couple of days. Yes.

  “Shoulders back so your chest sticks out. I want your knees as far apart as possible.”

  She did as he instructed. The motion strained her hips, so she brought her legs closer together by a few inches.

  “Unless your muscles cannot support you or you have a physical reason, beyond mere discomfort, why you can’t comply with my request, please return to where you were.”

  He missed nothing, gave no quarter. He’d gone from tender lover back to rigid Dominant again. Not knowing what to expect from him made her reel.

  “Do you need to use a safe word? Or a word for slow?”

  Damn him. She could do this. Schooling her reactions with deep breaths, she knelt up.

  “Much, much better. You look so beautiful when you’re obedient.”

  She didn’t reply.

  “Now place your hands behind your back.”

  Once she did, she realized she was in a precarious position, off balance, with her pussy more than a little exposed.

  “Tell me how that was for you,” he said.

  She looked up at him. He stood a couple of feet away, his powerful legs spread. She could tell, even though his pants were not form-fitting, that his cock was hard. So why hadn’t he screwed her?

  He picked up his belt then fed the leather through the pant loops, and she watched, unable to look away. When the buckle was fastened, he folded his arms across his chest. His shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows. If he had an eye patch, he’d resemble a pirate. “I’m waiting for an answer.”

  “It was effective, Sir.”

  “How so?”

  “I didn’t get into subspace. The spanks hurt, but it wasn’t enough to trigger endorphins.” Which meant she’d gotten the pain without him exploiting the pleasure.

  “You stuck your ass out at me. At least twice during your punishment, you tried to manipulate me, topping from the bottom.”

  Alani had never been with anyone so annoyingly perceptive. “But thank you for the scene and the orgasm, Sir.” Fuck. With the way he was so focused on rules, forgetting that might cost her one in the future…if there was a future.

  “I wondered if you’d get to that.”

  Even though he’d been masterful, she was edgier than she had been earlier. It was as if a waiter had brought over a sumptuous dessert tray, offered her anything, then informed her they didn’t have the one thing she craved.

  “I’ll have Jaron walk you to your car.”

  Her jaw dropped. “What? We’re done? That’s it?” Frustration gnawed in her belly. Her heart thundered.

  “Stay in position,” he warned, closing the distance between them to place a hand on her shoulder.

  Flight or fight instinct flared, but he kept his grip solid.

  Once she had control of herself, he released his hold. “Stay there.”

  Master Nathaniel left the room. He closed the door, shutting her in.

  She’d never struggled this hard mentally. She wanted to be alone. She wanted him to stay. The paradox perplexed her and it pissed her off.

  She wanted to get up, to run, to tell him to fuck off. Instead, she remained where she was, and her conflicting emotions caused anger to blaze.

  Despite her fury, she realized Master Nathaniel had reached a place inside her no one else ever had. She was hyperaware of the lingering pain from his well-wielded belt. She focused on the pain for a moment. She could not recall experiencing that kind of intensity during a scene.

  Well, maybe she’d never experienced anything quite like that.

  Over the years, she’d spent little time with Master Nathaniel. There was no way he knew her as well as he seemed to. It was as if he read her thoughts, needs, desires, and knew exactly how to treat her.

  She hated it. She adored it.

  What the hell was wrong with her?

  Alani knew she could walk out. She didn’t have to wait here on his whim. Yet a rebellious part of her wanted him to be pleased with her.

  Alani called on everything she’d learned about being a submissive. If she had a limits list, being forced to wait on someone else’s pleasure would be at the top. She hated being ignored. Maybe she’d start a damn list after all.

  Her hips ached from the unnatural position and the cool air chilled her skin. She dragged in a couple of breaths, trying to get her heart rate back to normal. But being alone gave her too much time to think, to worry about why he hadn’t fucked her.

  When he’d commanded her to her knees, his thick erection had almost brushed her face. He’d wanted her but he hadn’t shared his dick, hadn’t even asked for a blow job.

  Master Nathaniel reentered the office and closed the door with a brisk snap behind him. “You may stand.”

  Her trench coat was draped over his forearm and he held her purse in one hand. Obviously he’d had Willow use the master key for the lockers. Somehow the oversized leather bag didn’t take away from his masculinity.

  Since Alani had been in that uncomfortable kneeling position for so long, it took her a moment to rise. There was nothing beautiful or elegant about her motions and she hated that.

  “You’re welcome to get dressed.”

  His voice was flat and uninterested, as if ten minutes ago he hadn’t had his mouth on her pussy as he’d sucked her clit hard enough to make her scream out an orgasm.

  Ignoring him, she scooped up her underwear. Her hands shook as she wriggled into them, and she snagged them on one of her heels.

  He might have sounded distant when he’d spoken to her, but he regarded her intently.

  All of a sudden, she was self-conscious in a way she hadn’t been when stretched across the top of the desk. She snatched up her blouse and shrugged into it then fastened the top couple of buttons before reaching for her skirt. Master Nathaniel continued to regard her, not hurrying her at all. Alani stepped into the skirt then pulled it up. Because of his scrutiny, she fumbled with the zipper. The harder she tried, the worse she failed.

  “Stop,” he commanded, voice soft. He placed her coat and purse on a chair then walked toward her. “Drop your hands to your sides and turn around.”

  Compelled by the no-nonsense tone in his voice, she obeyed.

  He slid the zipper up. “Quit fighting yourself,” he said. “Quit fighting me. What we just experienced was powerful.”

  “We? I was the one being beaten.” She took a breath and added a belated, “Sir.”

  “I was there, too, Alani,” he said against her ear.

  A shiver—maybe of anticipation?—traced up her spine.

  “I was as affected by it as you were.” After placing his hands on her shoulders, he turned her back to face him. He captured her chin be
tween his thumb and forefinger, but in a different way from when he’d intruded on her scene with Master Richard.

  He threaded the fingers of his left hand into her hair.

  Controlling her movements, he forced her to look up at him.

  “Think about what you want, Alani, what you really want. There’s nothing wrong with you deciding this job isn’t for you. People quit jobs every day. But if you’re going to be here, we expect you to embrace what you’re doing. Your Doms deserve it. Hell, you deserve it. If you decide to stay, you’ll want to have a plan for getting your needs met.”

  Kukae. She was more confused than she’d ever been.

  He continued to hold her. His jaw was clenched and a tiny pulse ticked near his temple. She yearned for him to say something, but he remained silent. Her nerves stretched.

  Then, with an abrupt shrug, he let her go and reached for her coat.

  As if she were his cherished date, he held it while she slipped into it.

  Her motions were jerky as she knotted the belt tight around her waist.

  He handed her the purse and she slung it over her shoulder.

  “Jaron!” he shouted.

  As if he’d been waiting, the head of security, dapper in a tailored suit, entered. Jaron had been at Limits since it’d opened, and he’d always been unfailingly polite and professional. He guarded the club as if it were his own, making sure the employees and guests were kept safe. The man was quiet and unobtrusive, and so were the state-of-the-art security measures he had enacted. But more, he was broad, powerful, gorgeous, with rich black skin and a shaved head. More than one sub fantasized about him. Even though he didn’t play, at least at the club, he’d had plenty of offers.

  “Please see Ms. Dane to her car.”

  “Certainly, sir.”

  Master Nathaniel stepped to one side, arms folded, looking every bit like the powerful Dom he was.

  She didn’t glance at him as she followed Jaron from the suite of offices and into the reception area.

  “Alani?”

  She stopped and glanced back at Master Nathaniel.

  “I want you to stay at Limits.”

  Nothing about him? Or them? Just the club?

  “Call me by noon.”

  Her heart exploding from the surge of emotion, she turned away and caught up to the waiting Jaron.