Doms Of The FBI: Re-Paired Part 7

He eased into her velvet warmth. She trembled with the effort it took to hold still. While she couldn't move much, she could wiggle and buck if she really wanted. He'd restricted her movements instead of outright restraining her.

Another inch, and she sucked in a breath, but she didn't close her eyes.

"That's it, Kitty Kat. Keep your eyes on me. Hide nothing."

Her hot walls fluttered around his c.o.c.k, and she whimpered as he buried himself deep. "Master." She gasped his t.i.tle, a plea and an exclamation.

To answer, he withdrew and thrust again. The spreader bar and the way he'd positioned her arms meant he couldn't lean forward to hold himself over her while he f.u.c.ked her. No, this position dictated a leisurely pace, if only because he had to sit up.

It afforded him the opportunity to see how playing with her nipples and c.l.i.t affected her responses. He reached up and tweaked one nipple. The redness from their earlier play had faded, but they were still a bit swollen. She tossed her head and arched her back, offering more.

He alternated b.r.e.a.s.t.s, pinching lightly with each thrust. She whimpered and writhed beneath him. He felt her frustration building, and he reveled in it. He abandoned her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, lifted her hips a little higher, and ruined the rhythm. This wasn't supposed to get either of them anywhere. He wanted to see how far he could push her before she misbehaved.

Her eyebrows drew together, and her lips pressed in a thin line. Her breathing normalized. At last she snapped, "I never knew you were such a p.u.s.s.y tease."

Just to madden her further, he slowed his pace. "It's my absolute favorite thing, Kitty Kat."

She closed her eyes, so he slapped her exposed c.l.i.t. Her lids flew open, but she didn't yelp or gasp. She regarded him with wonder and expectation. This development interested him. She'd been exceptionally nervous about being flogged, but she didn't seem to have the same reservations about pain play on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s or p.u.s.s.y.

He slapped her three more times, and her p.u.s.s.y squeezed around his c.o.c.k. It hurt just enough for him to quicken his pace. If she kept tightening on him, he wasn't going to remain in control for much longer. She thrashed her head from side to side.

Pressing his fingers hard against her c.l.i.t, he rubbed. If she liked the stinging sensation, she should find this annoying. His goal was to distract her from the urge to climax, but it backfired. Her p.u.s.s.y convulsed wildly, and she cried out. He slowed his movements to draw out her moment of enjoyment. It helped stave off his need to o.r.g.a.s.m as well.

"Thank you, Master." Pa.s.sion blurred her eyes and slurred her words.

"It's time you learned to ask before your take what belongs to me. No more o.r.g.a.s.ms without permission. Understood?"

Her gaze focused, and a pleased smile lifted the corners of her mouth. "Yes, Master. I understand."

He withdrew and flipped her over. This forced her to kneel with her a.s.s straight up in the air, her arms still wrapped around her legs, and her weight resting on her right shoulder and the side of her face. She was helpless now, and he planned to show her what that meant.

Gripping her hips hard to hold her in place, he plunged into her, not stopping until his b.a.l.l.s. .h.i.t her exposed p.u.s.s.y. Then he f.u.c.ked her with quick, rough thrusts. He kept the rhythm even when he reached underneath to twist her nipples. Immediately, she emitted a low moan. Within seconds, another followed. Each time he touched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she lost control a little more. Her p.u.s.s.y fluttered, a preo.r.g.a.s.mic sign he was coming to know well.

"Don't come, slave. You don't have permission." With that warning, he gave her nipple a particularly vicious pinch. She buried her face in the bedcover and screamed, doing exactly what he'd told her not to do.

He gritted his teeth against the need to follow her over that cliff and f.u.c.ked her faster. Impossibly, her body bowed, and the convulsions came harder. She gasped and sobbed, losing herself in the sensations he knew overwhelmed her mind and body. Her reaction combined with the delicious heat inside him. He wanted more, so much more, but he couldn't withstand the demands of her p.u.s.s.y. Muttering a low oath, he gave in and came.

The edges of his vision turned white. He forced his consciousness back from the brink. He couldn't leave her bound like this much longer. With clumsy, lethargic hands, he released the strips holding her cuffs in place. It was easier than removing them from the spreader bar.

Then he attended to the mechanics of the situation, laying her down on the bed with her head on a pillow and the sheet covering her cooling body. He disposed of the condom in her bathroom and brought back a damp cloth to clean away her juices and the still-slick trail of s.e.m.e.n on her stomach. Checking her skin wasn't a priority. He hadn't done anything lasting. She might still be a bit sensitized, but no trace of the flogging remained.

When he finished, he found himself at a loss. He wasn't the kind of Dom who cuddled with his subs. That was part of the reason his subs left. He had no tenderness or affection to give. He liked them, and he appreciated their submission, but he didn't particularly want to be close to them. If she were anyone else, he could have parked himself in the chair across the room and waited for her to recover.

Kat deserved more. They all did, but Kat was the first woman for whom he considered changing his routine. Normally he would wait a few more minutes and continue the scene.

However, he didn't want Kat to learn to expect less from a Dom. If he was honest, he knew he was training her for someone who would cherish the gift of her submission, someone who knew how to love a woman. Therefore he could rationalize and justify his next action. He slid into bed next to her and took her in his arms, holding her stiffly. She nestled her head against his shoulder and rested her hand on his chest.

He remained in place for the longest time. Ticking noises announced when her air conditioner kicked on and off. Gradually he felt his body relax as it acclimated to this foreign stimulation. Her hand moved over his bare chest, tracing small patterns on his skin in an intimate caress he'd never before allowed. Something deep inside cracked, and he panicked, but he covered it well.

Closing his hand over hers, he halted her exploration. "You didn't fall asleep. Good. We're not finished with the scene."

She smiled. He felt the small movement against his shoulder a second before she pressed a kiss there. "You're an insatiable Master."

More than she could possibly know. There was a void inside him he'd tried to fill his entire life, but nothing had yet done the trick. Exercising his dominance brought him the closest to fulfillment, but even that only provided temporary relief.

Bringing up the arm he used to hold her against his side, he palmed her breast. She s.h.i.+fted, brus.h.i.+ng her leg over his and arching to give him more access. Everything in him protested the sensuality of her action. It tapped his vast reserves of self-loathing and bitterness. He didn't deserve someone like Kat. He hated himself for taking so much from her, but he couldn't be someone he wasn't. He had warned her. Like the others, she had ignored it.

Like the others, she would learn the hard way.

Twisting his hand in the hair at the base of her head, he urged her to tilt her face toward his. Then he captured her lips with a punis.h.i.+ng kiss. Who he was punis.h.i.+ng was open for debate.

"Remember when I told you that I enjoy causing pain?"

Katrina nodded. Some of Keith's actions puzzled her. He seemed to vacillate between tender and rough, almost as if he couldn't decide which course to take. At times she caught glimpses of the man she knew, the friend who would do anything for her. Then a stranger would take his place. His expression would harden, and his eyes would grow cold and remote.

She knew he wrestled demons of several varieties, but she had no idea how much he normally kept under wraps. She wasn't surprised when he took care of her after the first part of the scene ended, but she had been a little shocked when he pulled her into his arms voluntarily. In the past, he'd rarely initiated physical contact-that was her forte.

She had no trouble remembering his reasons for turning her down a week ago. He was afraid she'd see his dark side and she'd run screaming. Some of it might be difficult or painful to face, but she wasn't going anywhere.

"I remember. Are you going to spank me now?" She deserved it. In the back of her mind, she felt guilty for coming without permission right after he'd warned her against it. Though he had said he didn't dole out physical punishments, she could see where what she would consider retribution, he might consider discipline or teaching. Keith's entire life operated according to his own rules.

"No." He pushed her hair back from her face and traced a caress along her temple. "I will take a moment to remind you that using your safeword is the only way to stop me. Protesting, begging, pleading-none of these will have any effect on my actions. I'm going to tie you up and f.u.c.k your a.s.s. Since you're so experienced that way, I won't go easy on you."

She sincerely doubted his plans were as simple as bondage and s.e.x. He'd said he wanted to hurt her, which meant he had something else up in that torture bag, and he meant it to be a surprise. Part of her wanted to protest, to safeword and plead tiredness. The braver part of her, the part determined to show him that she could be the woman he needed, kicked the sissy out of her head.

The a.n.a.lytical piece of her personality threw out her next question. This often helped her at work, so she didn't keep a tight rein on that impulse. "Do you like to hear protesting and begging and pleading?" She felt she could do those things and be quite sincere. It would be an outlet for her fears.

His hand stilled on her arm. "I don't like acting, especially bad acting. If it's an honest reaction, then I like it. If not, I'd prefer not to hear it. I did bring a gag."

She heard that warning loud and clear. He wanted to drive her to desperation. He didn't want her to arrive there through artificial channels. "No acting. Good to know."

The world tilted suddenly as he rolled her onto her back and pinned her to the mattress with the length of his body. Because his move had been so unexpected, she wrapped her arms around his neck. He pried them loose and pressed them down beside her head. She felt protected and powerless, completely engulfed by his presence. Even the air she breathed was heavy with his masculine scent. It all combined to make her wet and ready.

The edge of impatience tightened in the lines around his mouth. "Master."

For some reason, probably his relaxed demeanor and the fact that he was taking the time to explain things to her, she'd thought they'd suspended protocol. "I'm sorry, Master. I appreciate your patience."

The line, something they'd joked about as being a snarky way for companies who kept customers on hold to remind them who was really in charge, elicited a raised brow from him. She'd meant it, but there was no way to say it without sounding a little condescending.

When his expression didn't change, she scrambled to do some damage control. "Seriously, Master. I meant that. You are very patient. And a little scary."

He lowered his face to hers and nipped her lower lip. "Scary means you don't trust me. I'd never do anything I didn't think you could handle."

She knew that. She also knew he probably had some pretty insidious plans. While she might be able to handle whatever he threw her way, that didn't mean she didn't fear it. "I do trust you, Master. But I know you too well to think you didn't mean it when you said you got off on causing pain. That's a little scary to me, but not enough to make me chicken out."

The raw desire on his face when he'd put those clamps on her had only underlined his s.a.d.i.s.tic tendencies. And she'd really liked being on the receiving end.

Instead of responding or letting her study his nonverbal reaction, he closed the distance and kissed her. It was a long, thorough kiss, the kind that possessed and controlled without being violent.

When he changed the tempo, f.u.c.king his tongue into her mouth and then trailing a series of sucking bites down her neck, she responded on a primal level. Writhing under his slow attack, she sought both to escape the stinging points of contact and to bring him closer. She couldn't help but notice how her desperate movements solidified his hard-on.

"Don't ever hide or fake your reactions." He sucked her nipple into his mouth, trapping it between his teeth and tongue before letting it go. "I need to be able to read you at all times. If you hide things, it makes it difficult to read you, which can lead to some unintended consequences." Back and forth, he tortured her b.r.e.a.s.t.s until she cried out.

He regarded her expectantly. She stared back, uncertain what he wanted. At last she said, "Yes, Master."

That seemed to satisfy him. It dawned on her that he'd asked her to bare herself to him. He'd warned her that he'd ask for everything from her and give nothing in return. She wondered if he considered this request a step in that direction. The irony nearly made her laugh. He wanted to know her reactions so he could make sure the scenes were good for them both. While he didn't say as much, he had already taken steps to get to know her body in a way no other man had. He'd spent the evening studying her reactions, planning his next move based on what he thought she wanted.

And he presented it as a selfish thing. Only Keith would see it that way.

He knelt up and hauled her with him. "On your knees. Face the headboard. I'm going to bind your arms and legs first, and then I'm going to make you scream and possibly beg." He said it in the same matter-of-fact tone he used during depositions. No emotion, just facts. Somehow that made it all the more sinister, which caused another rush of desire to tingle through her system.

The headboard of her bed consisted of a series of slats. He took the padded cuffs from the spreader bar and put them back around her wrists. Instead of using the snaps to attach them, he threaded a few feet of rope through the snap on one, around a center slat, and through the other snap. When he finished, she had enough leeway to wrap her hands around the long, rectangular top piece, which meant she could only move them inches away from where he'd tied her.

He grabbed the pillows from the bed and tossed them on the chair next to her door. Then he pulled her back so that she had to bend forward and rest her weight on the headboard to stay upright. When she was in the perfect, exposed position, he guided her legs farther apart.

From his bag of tricks, he extracted a length of rope that was at least an inch in diameter. He wrapped it around the middle of her left thigh and secured it to the bed frame beneath the mattress. With a second line, he secured her other leg in the same fas.h.i.+on.

Though she was only bound at three points, she found it surprisingly difficult to move. The position of her arms meant she couldn't rest back on her heels, and her body was effectively held in place by the ropes on her legs, so she couldn't scoot forward to find a different balance. She was stuck, legs spread wide apart, exactly how he wanted. He moved around her, checking and rechecking the places where things wrapped around her body. "If you experience numbness or tingling in your hands, wrists, legs, or feet, call yellow and tell me what's going on. Got it?"

"Yes, Master." Right now her p.u.s.s.y was the only thing tingling, and he hadn't indicated that he had plans for it.

He held up a strip of black leather studded with metal loops and rivets, and she recognized it as a bondage collar. Without asking permission, he buckled it into place and checked the fit. As he stared at her, a bit of peace settled into his eyes. He nodded, a quick action heavy with finality. "This means you're mine."

Katrina swallowed, and the weight of the collar s.h.i.+fted with the movement. It was odd, heavy and bulky, almost alien. At the same time, a place deep inside responded to this show of possession. For the first time, she felt like they weren't just playing a game. This was for real. She would grow accustomed to the collar.

He hadn't asked a question, so she didn't respond. Not that it mattered. He'd already turned back to his bag and was fis.h.i.+ng around inside for something else.

She gasped when he dumped a bag of stainless steel clothespins on the bed next to her knee. Several slid into the indent she made and b.u.mped into her skin. They were cool to the touch. She'd only ever seen clothespins made from wood or plastic. She'd clamped them on her skin before. Sometimes they hurt, especially when they were pulled off. Something about these being metal lent them a menacing quality. She s.h.i.+vered, half in fear and half in antic.i.p.ation.

Keith climbed onto the bed and knelt so that he was facing her, yet his entire consideration went to her chest. Tied to the bed, bound into position, she had become his plaything, just as he'd warned her. Excitement curled low in her belly, but she wasn't sure she should embrace it. If she consented to being objectified like this, did she have to turn in her feminist card?

He plumped one breast, squeezing and kneading the tenderized flesh.

Unable to help it, she hazarded a glance at those menacing steel torture tools. That was when she noticed he was wearing pants.

"You got dressed?" That came out sounding a little more upset than she'd intended. She tried to make amends with the way she added his t.i.tle. "Master."

His lips curled in that sinfully s.e.xy smile that stopped her heart every time she saw it. He didn't otherwise answer. Thinking about it, she realized it was another way to emphasize the power s.h.i.+ft. She was naked and powerless. He was clothed and dominant. When she considered that perspective, she was less upset.

While she was distracted by her need to rationalize everything, he clipped the first clothespin onto her nipple. It exerted less pressure than the clamp, but it still pinched. When she'd experimented with clothespins before, she hadn't tried them on areas that were this tender. Her mistake.

He pinched the skin on her breast just below the nipple, pulling at the area he'd already pinned and making it burn a little. Then he attached another clothespin. Circling her breast, he attached two more. Now she had four total, each working against the other to simultaneously pull and pinch. Every breath she took aided the nefarious configuration. It stimulated, but it hurt too.

By the time he started on her other breast, the pain had grown disproportionately to the pleasure she derived from the pinch. Using the breathing technique he taught didn't help, because the rise and fall of her chest exacerbated the situation. She wanted him to remove the clothespins. Frustration built, and she snapped at him.

"What is it with you and b.r.e.a.s.t.s? Do you have a b.o.o.b fetish?"

He glanced up, clinical curiosity his only apparent reaction. He studied her, no doubt noting the way her lips trembled. "Not really. I do prefer smaller sizes. Too big and it's difficult to find the right combination to produce the pleasure/pain sensations I'm after."

He wasn't finding the right combination now. Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s felt like they were on fire. She only felt the pain. Clothespins on her nipples wouldn't have caused this distress. Earlier, with the clamps, Keith had established her love of that kind of stimulation. These additions just hurt.

She had no problem remembering her place. He'd seen to that when he bound her like this. "Master, this hurts. It doesn't feel good at all."

He finished and leaned back to survey his work. A satisfied smile settled on his mouth. "Perfect."

He flickered his gaze between her face and her chest. Then he brought his hand up and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. She felt the wetness of a tear. She hadn't been aware it had fallen.

"Beautiful." He kissed her lightly, reverently, and she realized exactly how much he loved seeing her like this. "Just wait. It's going to get worse before it gets better."

It was a hollow a.s.surance. A glance down showed a mountain of desire tenting his pants. She hoped he lost control of it before she started sobbing like a baby.

He disappeared behind her only to reappear as he shouldered his way between her legs. Leaning up on his elbows, he buried his face in her c.u.n.t. He licked her wetness, f.u.c.ked her hole with his tongue, and circled her c.l.i.t with his thumb. She liked the way he dived right in and set about his task with urgency and pa.s.sion. The rush of pleasure took her mind away from the pain in her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. It was still there, but it mattered less.

Taking a chance, she rocked against his face. The bindings had left her with a little wiggle room there, and she used it to her advantage. He moaned and matched her rhythm. The vibration triggered a small o.r.g.a.s.m, and her v.a.g.i.n.a convulsed around nothing. She'd had no idea she was that close. Air hissed through her teeth, the only outward sign that she'd inadvertently gained completion without permission.

He dropped down and rested on his back between her legs. She thought he was waiting for her to come down from her climax, but he reached for a clothespin and closed it on one edge of her l.a.b.i.a. It hurt in a different way than on her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, maybe because she was more sensitive there. Tears immediately welled and fell from her eyes.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h." She hissed the oath. There was no way he could think she was calling him names, though it might come to that before they were through.

But if he heard, he didn't show it. Slowly, methodically, he clipped two more clothespins to that side of her l.a.b.i.a. Each ratcheted up the pain factor. Then he evened out the torture by attaching three to the opposite side. She couldn't stand it. He might think she was capable of withstanding-or even enjoying-this kind of agony, but he was wrong.

Trying to escape the burning pain on her chest and between her legs, she jerked against her bonds. "Master, please take them off. They hurt too much."

He wiggled out from between her legs and put the rest of the pins into their bag. "No. You can handle this, Kitty Kat. You're brave and strong. Breathe through it."

Breathing through it made it hurt even more. She lost her temper. "Son of a b.i.t.c.h. Take them off." Now she was calling him names, and he took it that way.

He leaned against her bedpost and crossed his arms. "That's no way to talk to your Master. I just gave you an o.r.g.a.s.m, and I didn't even make you ask for it."

And he'd given her loads of fiery pain. She choked on a combination of tears and rage. All week she'd been upset and more than a little p.i.s.sed at him for turning her down and forcing her to have a conversation with Dustin she'd never wanted to have. For over a decade, she'd l.u.s.ted after Keith and loved him from afar. And then last night when she'd called him to tell him someone had been in her apartment, he'd treated her like she'd fabricated the whole experience. Now he was calmly persecuting her just for the fun of it.

Those feelings came barreling out. She called him every combination of horrible names she could think up, and then she accused him of lacking any kind of compa.s.sion. "You're inhuman. That's what you are."

He leaned close and licked the trail of tears on her cheek. "Yes, Kat. I am. It's important you understand that about me. I'm not the kind of man you think I am. Call red, and I'll stop everything. I'll take off the clothespins. I'll untie you. I'll wrap you in a blanket and hold you until you feel better."

His quiet acceptance caught her off guard, and she realized the danger inherent in his game. If she cried off, she would confirm that his initial reaction had been the correct decision. They weren't compatible. She couldn't let him win that way. Perhaps she didn't particularly like this, but there were plenty of other ways he could pleasantly torture her.

"No." She shook her head to emphasize her point. "I can take this. I don't have to like it." A submissive endures pain for the pleasure of her Master. She repeated that to herself silently.

He gave her that same sinful grin, and she melted a lot. Then he smacked a powerful kiss on her lips. "Slave, would it help to know the pleasure is always greater than the pain?"

Without waiting for her answer, he moved away. She didn't turn her head to follow his path, but it wasn't long before she felt him slide into position behind her.

It did help to know that. She was fast realizing that he liked the mental game as much as or more than he liked the physical game. This shouldn't have been a big revelation for her, having partic.i.p.ated in countless heated discussions with him, but it was. He wasn't into s.e.x for the romantic aspects; that much was for certain.

She felt his fingers at her a.n.u.s, smearing lubrication on the tight muscle here. He inserted two fingers to stretch and pull. A wave of pleasure washed through her body. She'd always loved this kind of stimulation. She didn't question it. She just went with it.

He fingered her that way until she moaned. The pain of the clothespins had once again become minor. "That's it. That's my beautiful, strong slave."