Doms Of The FBI: Re-Paired Part 8

The tip of his c.o.c.k nudged against her sphincter. Taking a deep breath, she let him know she was ready. Even though she exhaled and relaxed, she still found herself stunned and frozen when he entered her. He'd reamed her. She hadn't expected him to be gentle, but she'd thought he would at least enter her the first time with a little more care and caution. He didn't know what she was used to.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h." She gasped when she finally recovered the ability to breathe.

He withdrew and thrust again. "I think I'm going to ask you to choose a new term of endearment."

Her vision narrowed. The hot-and-cold, p.r.i.c.kly feeling that preceded a huge o.r.g.a.s.m was running up her spine. "Master." She wanted to warn him, but the word came out too reverently to be anything but a verbal caress.

"That'll do."

He set a fast pace. She shoved back, bearing down to ensure that he took her hard. The sense of losing control spread, and the feeling she was flying settled over her. She'd kissed this bliss when he'd whipped her with the deerskin flogger, but this was so much better. "G.o.d, yes. Master, please!"

"No, Kitty Kat. No o.r.g.a.s.m yet. Hold it back. Breathe."

It was too much. She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on her arms. "I...I can't. Please, Master. Please let me come."

He reached around to her front, and she sobbed. The tears tonight seemed to have no end, but now she was crying for a different reason. Just when she thought to beg him not to touch her c.l.i.t, he ripped away two pins. She cried out, and he pulled the rest of them off.

Blood rushed to her v.u.l.v.a. The smoldering fire burst into flame, and so did her o.r.g.a.s.m. She came hard and fast. From far away, she heard screaming. A hand clapped over her mouth and blotted the sound.

It went on and on. He pumped his c.o.c.k into her, and he removed the pins from her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. Each sharp jerk-he didn't bother to open them when he pulled them off-made her o.r.g.a.s.m pulse faster. Every cell on her body stood at attention. Individual follicles of hair p.r.i.c.kled on her scalp. The world went black, but she still felt every one of the tumultuous sensations rioting through her body.

Another shout, this one deeper and shorter, joined the high-pitched one keening in her ears.

When full awareness returned, she found herself wrapped in her sheet and curled up on Keith's lap. The last vestiges of her tears finished falling as he smoothed her hair away from her face and whispered praise and a.s.surances. Her entire body trembled, inside and out.

"I c-can't s-stop sh-shaking." Her teeth chattered too.

She felt him smile as he kissed her forehead. "It's all right. I got you. I won't let you go."

They sat in silence and let the minutes pa.s.s. Her heart slowed back to a normal rate, but she seemed to be getting all her body heat from him. Still, the quivering wound down as well. She knew it had a lot to do with the fact that he held her as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

"Talk to me, Kat."

"Seriously? Men never want to have conversation after s.e.x." She meant it as a joke, because she needed time to think of something to say. What, exactly, could she say to the man who'd just put her through h.e.l.l to show her a new level of o.r.g.a.s.m she'd never believed existed?

He kissed her forehead again. "Real men do. If a Dom doesn't talk to a sub after a scene, then he's not fulfilling his responsibilities."

While she didn't want to be thought of as a responsibility, she wasn't willing or able to have that discussion right then. "Thank you, Master. I didn't know o.r.g.a.s.ms came that large."

His laugh rumbled against her shoulder and chest. "Pain turns into pleasure. That's the reward you get for trusting me. But I need you to be honest with me, Kat. I need you to tell me what you liked and what you hated."

So much had happened in just a few hours. He wanted her to process it all now? "Keith, my mind isn't really working right now. Can we talk about this tomorrow?"

He eased her up so that she sat on the bed next to him. She wanted to protest the loss of his protective embrace, but she could see by the firm set of his jaw that he was going to demand answers. He'd probably also reached his limit on cuddling, and this topic of conversation couldn't be all that comfortable for him. s.h.i.+fting to cross her legs, she noted that the ropes were still wrapped around her thighs and the cuffs were still on her wrists.

She scrambled for something to say. "I liked pretty much everything. You almost put me to sleep with that flogger. I really thought they were supposed to sting."

"Some do. It depends on the material and the force of the swing. We'll get to that eventually." He regarded her cautiously, and she noticed that although he'd disposed of the condom, he hadn't put his clothes back on. They were equals for this discussion.

"The clothespins hurt. Seriously hurt. I think I'm going to have bruises."

He nodded as if that were no big deal. "Bruising is pretty normal. I won't cut you. I'm not into blood play, but bruising happens. Welts too. You're going to be sore tomorrow, but that's nothing compared to how you'll feel after this weekend is over."

She wasn't sure she wanted welts or bruises, but she figured she'd reserve judgment for now. "I liked the lighter stuff, but..."

The first part of the scene had been light BDSM, and the second part had been a heavier practice. She understood what he'd done. He'd given her a comparison, and now he wanted to know which product she'd chosen.

She looked up at him and realized he'd never once let his gaze wander from her face. And he was waiting patiently while she gathered her thoughts. "The clothespins are a bit of a sticking point. I think I'm okay with them on my nipples and p.u.s.s.y, but I didn't like them on my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. That was too much."

He regarded her solemnly. "So that's a hard limit, then?"

"Yes." She knew the terminology, but she'd forgotten to use it. "That's a hard limit. Also I don't think I could do the harder play all the time. I liked it, and I loved the payout, but it was draining, physically and emotionally."

Not to mention he'd played head games with her. She definitely didn't like that.

"Kat? You have that look on your face."

"What look?" She'd been inside her head, so she hadn't been aware of her expression.

"The one you get right before you lay into someone." He held steady, his gaze locked to hers, but he clenched his jaw as if he expected her to say something horrible.

She couldn't recall ever saying anything cruel to him. Even when she'd cursed him out during the scene, she hadn't been malicious. Sure, she'd snapped at him when he'd annoyed or teased her too much, but that was when he'd treated her like a sister. Of course, he'd seen her eviscerate a dishonest witness before, so he knew how her tongue could cut.

"I don't like the head games. I don't like when you pretend to be a jerk. Keith, I know you like to pretend you don't care, but I know you better than that." She placed her hand over his heart and soaked up the warmth radiating from his chest. "You've walled it up pretty well, but I know it's there."

Color drained from his cheeks. She didn't know if he was going to vomit or run, but she had enough sense to figure out he hadn't wanted to talk about feelings. He'd wanted to a.n.a.lyze the scene. Always an agent.

"I'm not going to hurt you or try to tear down anything. This is temporary. You're just training me, and then you'll turn me loose." She rushed to a.s.sure him that her intentions were good. "I just want you to know you can be yourself with me. I like you."

He stared at her for the longest time. Blood returned to his face. He shook his head in disbelief. "Kat, you don't know all the sides of me. When I told you earlier that I was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, I wasn't lying."

With a start, she realized he really believed that. Lucky for him, she didn't.

Chapter Five.

A shaft of light focused on Keith's left eye, turning the inside view bright red. He turned his face the other way. The scent of the pillow cradling his head was both familiar and unfamiliar, and the air smelled faintly of s.e.x and sweat. Kat.

All at once, he was fully awake, and so was his c.o.c.k. She'd rocked his world, and then she'd laid down the law. She was not a compliant submissive. In fact, unless he had her bound or in pain, familiarity intruded and she forgot her manners. Normally he wouldn't put up with a submissive who took him to task the way she had or who continually crossed the lines he set.

Training someone who mattered to him was new territory. Kat unsettled him. She pushed his emotional boundaries, and he felt himself responding in alien and unexpected ways. As yet, he had no regrets about opening this door, and he had definite plans for them today.

Part of that plan was to keep her on edge. Today, she was going to learn to control her o.r.g.a.s.ms. Or rather, she was going to recognize they belonged to him. They'd happen when and if he wanted. He planned to introduce her to the concepts of o.r.g.a.s.m denial and forced climax.

He snagged a condom from the bedside table and covered his c.o.c.k. Never having slept next to her before, he didn't know whether she woke slow or fast. It would be fun finding out.

In her sleep, she'd rolled onto her side, facing away and curled up into a ball. He pulled her toward him, turning her onto her back, and pushed her legs out of the way. With a series of smooth, practiced moves, he had her in position, and he slid into her warmth. The condom was lubricated, so she didn't have to be ready for this. She only had to be willing.

He thrust twice before her eyes opened. She stared at him in shocked silence laced with speculation, but she didn't safeword. At last she opened her mouth to say something. He wasn't in the mood for conversation, so he pressed his finger to her lips. "Shhh. I'll just be a minute, slave. Don't talk. It's distracting."

She closed her mouth and drew her knees up to allow deeper access. When she met his thrusts, he knew she was seeking her own completion. He couldn't let that happen. It would spoil his plans. Two more, and he climaxed.

Before she could initiate more action, he withdrew and rolled away. "You hungry? I was going to run out and get some breakfast."

Silence greeted his question. He let her have a moment to come to terms with the fact he'd just used her body without seeing to her pleasure. It could be a difficult idea to a.s.similate after he'd so thoroughly seen to her pleasure the night before.

He felt a slight s.h.i.+ft in the mattress as she sat up. "Yeah. Don't forget coffee."

She didn't sound upset or angry, only tired, so he hazarded a look over his shoulder. She blinked and swayed a little, clearly still not quite awake.

"You can go back to sleep if you want."

Gravity took over. She flopped back and closed her eyes.

__________.

The warm spray washed over her skin, soothing some of her sore muscles. So many places hurt, but her thighs seemed to have borne the brunt of the strain. The positions into which he put her certainly required stamina.

She wasn't sure whether she was p.i.s.sed at Keith for the stunt he'd pulled earlier. It was one thing to have a quickie. She knew the score when it came to that kind of thing, and she wasn't upset that he hadn't discussed it with her first. He'd asked for her limits, and she had merely shrugged. This wouldn't be one of them. She didn't mind being awakened that way. She didn't even mind that he hadn't made her climax.

The way he told her not to talk took the cake. It hadn't registered until later, but that kind of treatment crossed a line. Before last night, she hadn't been sure if she would draw any kind of lines with Keith. From the bottom of her soul, she wanted to please him. She wanted to give him the gift of her submission. But there was definitely a line, and it was becoming easier to see. She wouldn't tolerate being spoken to in such a disrespectful manner.

She shoved that thought aside for now. He'd left her unfulfilled, and she didn't have a problem taking care of herself. Actually, the shower was her favorite place to m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e. She lifted the showerhead away from its holder and brought it closer to her body. Over her shoulders, down her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she directed the warm spray lower and followed with her free hand. She pinched her right nipple. All these years with this body, and she had never appreciated the sensitivity in those nubs. She'd spent her time cursing the fact she couldn't wear lacy bras because she inevitably ended up with headlights, and that just drew attention to the area in which genetics had skimped. At least Keith didn't seem to mind.

Pinching harder brought forth a moan she couldn't suppress. She took her time, playing awhile before she continued. Turning the water to the pulse setting, she aimed it at her c.l.i.t and eased two fingers into her opening. From the periphery of her vision, she saw a shadow and realized Keith was in the bathroom, watching as she touched herself.

Though she couldn't see more than just his outline through the smoky gla.s.s door, and she reasoned he could only see hers, she exaggerated her movements and put on a show for him. The remembered heat in his eyes from the night before, when she'd straddled his lap and m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed, drove her now. She pumped her fingers harder, jabbing at her G-spot in exactly the right way. Warm water pulsed over her c.l.i.t. She moaned. Her knees weakened, and the climax took her harder than it normally did when she pleasured herself.

She rested her forehead against the tiled wall while she recovered. Then she finished her shower and opened the gla.s.s door.

Keith held out a towel and wrapped her in its softness and his embrace. He pressed his body to her length and ma.s.saged her lips with a tender kiss. She closed her eyes and surrendered to his masterful touch.

"I see I have my work cut out for me."

Still feeling the effects of her climax and his kiss, she blinked uncomprehendingly. "Your work?"

"Yes. You came without permission. I don't mind if you want to touch yourself, Kitty Kat. I do mind when you steal an o.r.g.a.s.m. I'm going to have to teach you some restraint, but that'll keep. Right now, you need a punishment, and not the usual kind." He caressed her temple with his lips and fluttered tiny kisses against her eyelids. "Turn and face the counter. Bend over and brace yourself."

Katrina let her towel drop to the floor as she a.s.sumed the position. In the foggy mirror, she could see the fuzzy, distorted image of two people. The sense of foreboding clenching its fist in her stomach wasn't apparent in the shadowy figure of her reflection. The edge of the counter dug into her palms, and she prepared for the worst. He'd said he only wanted an apology for any infraction, but it became clear to her that he wasn't following his rules. This had to be new territory for him. Knowing he was changing his routine for her was a balm to her fraying nerves.

"This is going to hurt. Feel free to cry out."

The fog in the mirror cleared a bit, enough to see that he had her brush in his hand. She wasn't under the illusion that he wanted to brush her hair. She waited for instructions to count out a specific number, but he seemed to have skipped that part in the romance novels she'd read.

She watched his arm come back and swing down in a wide arc. The hard plastic stung her a.s.s far worse than the deerskin flogger. She exhaled afterward, forgoing the scream for now. Hot pain radiated in short bursts. She'd barely begun to acclimate to the sensation when he struck again and again.

What happened to instructing the submissive to count out the progress of the punishment? Counting made the slave breathe out, better absorbing the force of the blow. It hurt less that way, right? Should she tell him how it was supposed to happen?

He picked up the pace. The heat blended together. Her b.u.t.t felt like it was on fire, but he kept up the steady pace. Tears wetted her eyes, and she gritted her teeth. All capacity for thought fled her brain. At last she could stand it no longer. She gave in, surrendering to the will of her Master, and she cried out.

The spanking stopped. He traced a random pattern on her a.s.s. She flinched and whimpered. "I'm sorry, Master. I promise I'll ask next time." And she was genuinely contrite. Last night, he'd been clear about wanting her to ask beforehand, and she'd ignored his wishes. Never again.

He lifted her and folded her in his arms until her sniffling subsided. Lesson learned. She wouldn't come again without permission, even if he wasn't there to ask.

"Get on your knees." He released her so she could follow his order.

The discarded towel and the spongy bath mat cus.h.i.+oned her knees and provided relief that the tile floor wouldn't have. She sank down, knees wide as he'd shown her yesterday. Water dripped from her hair and from her body, and the cooling air gave her gooseflesh. It p.r.i.c.kled the sensitized skin on her b.u.t.tocks, increasing the burn and the reminder of her transgression.

He'd dressed in cargo shorts and a thin cotton s.h.i.+rt. With the flick of his wrist, he unb.u.t.toned the shorts. They fell to his ankles, and he wasn't wearing underwear. His c.o.c.k sprang from its nest of dark golden curls. She knew what he wanted.

"Open your mouth, slave."

She'd fantasized about sucking his c.o.c.k, but in her imaginings, it had always happened on her terms. He'd stand there and just enjoy her gift. This, she knew, would be different. He was going to take what he wanted, and she was merely a vessel for his pleasure.

She opened her mouth. He eased the tip inside, letting her wet him with her tongue. She took the opportunity to explore him, dipping her tongue into the drop of prec.u.m beading at his tip and running it along his sensitive ridge. When she completed the preliminaries, he grasped her head in his large hands, and she gripped his hips.

"Relax your jaw. Cradle my c.o.c.k with your tongue."

He pushed deep, almost to the back of her throat. She choked, but he didn't seem to notice. Or perhaps that was part of the discipline? At any rate, he f.u.c.ked her mouth with quick, deep thrusts. She fondled his sac to increase his pleasure, and so she felt his b.a.l.l.s draw up, signaling his imminent climax.

Instead of thrusting deep to come in the back of her throat, he pulled out. e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e shot all over her lips, cheeks, and chin. She closed her eyes against the splatters and the complex feelings arising as the result of his unexpected action.

Had he come on her face as part of the punishment because she'd climaxed without permission, or had he done it because he was a Dom and he enjoyed the look of s.e.m.e.n on his slave's face? Either way, she didn't like it. Spanking, she could appreciate. Coming on her face, she could not.

She felt for her towel, and then she wiped her face. As she rocked back to rise to her feet, she nailed him with a look. She wasn't sure what the look conveyed, because her emotions were too jumbled to be clear. Instead of saying anything to him-because she didn't know what to say-she turned to the sink and washed her face.

In the mirror, she saw him pull up his shorts and fasten them.

She scrubbed her face furiously. Keith watched with mixed emotions. He'd come on his subs' faces so often that he no longer stopped to consider whether they'd enjoy it. The practice marked a sub, literally and figuratively, as property. He'd held her head and forced her to watch as he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed on her face. The marks on her a.s.s were already fading. But no matter how vigorously she washed, the image, the feel of his hot s.p.u.n.k, and the strong emotions he elicited left an indelible tattoo that could never be removed.

Clearly, he'd p.i.s.sed her off. He'd warned her that he was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d. Though he'd made a deliberate decision to hold her after s.e.x, that didn't change his general philosophy or practice as a Dom. The subs who liked humiliation lasted longer with him, but not much longer.

Face dripping with water, she straightened and turned. The towel where she'd initially wiped the mess lay wadded on the floor. She cast a hateful look at it before pus.h.i.+ng him out of her way to access the linen closet. She patted her face dry, and then she used the new towel to squeeze some excess moisture from her hair and to finish drying her body.

Keith watched, his face purposely devoid of any expression. He had to wait her out, to see how she would react. Would she accept what he'd done, or would she add that to her list of hard limits?

She stalked from the bathroom and grabbed her bathrobe from her bedroom closet. He hadn't told her to dress, and her move to cover herself made his impa.s.sive mask difficult to hold.

When he'd returned with her requested coffee, he had expected to find her still asleep. He'd used her hard, and he knew she had been exhausted by the time he finally let her go to sleep. When he found her in the shower, her hands gliding over her slick skin as she lowered the showerhead to point the spray at her p.u.s.s.y, he'd become instantly hard. He could-and fully intended to-watch her m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e often. But she needed to learn to ask before she climaxed.

And the b.l.o.w.j.o.b hadn't been a punishment. She'd turned him on, and it was her job to satisfy his needs, especially the ones she created. Coming on her face had been part habit and part primal need. Her stunned reaction had given him pause, which was why he let her tie her bathrobe closed when every inclination he had screamed at him to rip away her clothes and paddle her a.s.s again. Not for punishment; just for fun.