Breaking Skye Page 4

  “It’s common for people to feel some shame about wanting these things—to experience pain, to give it. It’s what society puts in our heads, the fear of things that are unfamiliar. That’s part of the psychology involved, this attraction to the taboo.” He smiled slowly. “And for a lot of us, the taboo is the turn-on. Isn’t that true for you?”

  She nodded, said quietly, “Yes.” Her cheeks were burning. But he was absolutely right.

  “You have to allow it to happen, Skye, or it won’t happen at all. The struggle is fine as long as you can get through it. Take a breath. And let’s try this again. And because of your struggle, I will ask you one final time. Do you want this? Are you ready to begin?”

  She nodded once more. “Yes. I’m ready now.”

  “Good. Come with me, beautiful girl,” he said, his voice gentle yet still full of authority. “I’ll help you.”

  Beautiful girl.

  Wonderful that he would say that to her. The words made her shiver.

  The fact that he gave the tender skin at her waist a hard pinch before he let her go made her a little limp all over, made her wet.

  She swallowed.

  Oh yes, this is really it.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  He took her hand and led her across the room on shaking legs. She followed him blindly down a long hall, through a doorway and into a dimly lit space. When she finally allowed herself to look around her she saw an enormous, four-post bed in a dark, rich wood, an over-stuffed chair with a large ottoman covered in a neutral suede, another fireplace with a high mantle. A fire was burning, the acrid scent flooding her nostrils, the amber glow casting the only light in the room.

  He took her to the chair and sat down, pulled her so she stood before him. Silently he unbuttoned her blouse, his hands almost tender. She was trembling all over. With fear, with excitement, with that exquisite anticipation she’d never felt before. When he pulled her blouse from her shoulders her nipples went hard beneath the intensity of his gaze.

  “Ah, you really are beautiful,” he murmured.

  She could not believe she was standing there, allowing this man, this virtual stranger, to undress her. That she stood so silently. So passively. Yet at the same time, it was her very passiveness that allowed her to do it—that quiet head space. It was exactly what she was there for, a sensation she’d been seeking out.

  When he unzipped her skirt and let it slide down her thighs, she gasped.

  “Shh,” he soothed. “Relax.”

  He’d misunderstood her. She wasn’t afraid to be naked in front of him. But how could she relax when she wanted so desperately for him to touch her?

  Her mind was spinning with the possibilities. Something about the way his eyes roved over her almost reverently was causing a strange sort of heaviness in her limbs, causing her fears to calm, her head to empty out. And the vee between her thighs grew more damp every moment.

  Finally he put his hands on her. Just laid his fingertips against the skin on the front of her thighs. His touch went through her like an electric current, a keen arousal arrowing between her legs. She was shaking as he stroked her skin with small, feather-like touches. He moved his hands higher and she took in a deep breath, but he kept his fingertips away from her heated sex, where she wanted—needed—him most.

  When he slid his hands to the back of her thighs and squeezed hard enough to hurt, she gasped again. But she didn’t move.

  “Good girl. Very good.”

  Something about the pleasure in his voice made her heart surge. And the words themselves. Good girl. Lovely.

  He spent some time just running his hands over her while she watched his bent head. There was something reverent in the way he was looking at her so closely, in the way he traced the curves of her body, leaving a trail of sensation everywhere. She was heating up beneath his hands, her sex growing heavy with need, her breasts full and aching.

  “That’s it,” he said quietly. “Enjoy this, being touched, the sensation of my hands on your skin. Close your eyes. Let it happen, Skye.”

  She did as he said, closing her eyes, letting her head fall back as he continued to brush her naked flesh with his fingertips: her thighs, her stomach, even the back of her hands. She wanted to beg him to touch her breasts, to slip a hand between her thighs. Her sex was pulsing with desire, a sharp, aching want. But of course she didn’t ask. She didn’t dare. Oddly, she found she couldn’t do anything but abide by his instructions, and that sensation itself made her understand a little more of how the whole dynamic was supposed to work, helped her to accept it.

  When he finally swept his fingers across her already hard nipples she groaned aloud and opened her eyes. She found him staring up at her, amusement in his gleaming gaze. But something else, as well.

  “Adam…”

  “Quiet, Skye.”

  Lust. Glittering and warm, making his dark pupils wide, despite the absolute authority in his tone

  He was as excited as she was. And that knowledge made her soar with a sense of power she didn’t quite understand. But then he took her nipples between his fingers, pinching lightly, and she couldn’t think anymore. Her mind was simply telling her, yes, more.

  He tugged and rolled her nipples, paused to cup the weight of her breasts in his hands, then went back to pinching her again, hard and hurting in stinging little bites. God, it felt good, like something she’d needed all her life—her secret desire.

  A sharp flash of heat burned through her when he said, “Spread your legs for me, Skye.”

  She did as he asked instantly. She felt open, exposed. Wanton. He moved in until his face was only inches from her body and she could feel the heat of his breath on her belly. She had never felt so naked. So vulnerable. So turned on.

  He took in a deep breath and said, “You smell like heaven, beautiful girl.”

  When he brushed her mound with one hand, just a brief, whispering touch, she thought she might collapse. Desire rushed through her, hot in her veins, a fiery tide. She moaned.

  “I can feel your need, Skye. I can smell it on you. Trust that I will feed it tonight. I will satisfy your cravings in ways you’ve never experienced before.”

  She loved the command in his tone. Loved the husky edge of raw desire just as much.

  “I’m going to turn you over my knee now. I’m going to spank you.”

  He pulled her toward him, but she fought him, struggling against a new wave of panic. Over his knee? That seemed so…personal. Intimate. Could she really lay naked over his lap, with him fully clothed and in control of the situation?

  Her heart thudded a heavy rhythm in her chest, making it hard to breathe. Could she give that much power to another person? Could she allow herself to be so entirely vulnerable?

  “No. I…I can’t. Adam, I can’t do this.”

  Adam’s hand snaked up and gripped the back of her neck, gently forced her down to her knees on the floor in front of him. It happened so fast she didn’t have time to consider what was happening. He buried his hand in her hair, grasping it at the roots tightly and pulling her head back so she had no choice but to look into his face. It hurt. Her pulse raced, a heady mixture of fear and desire. A flood of damp heat pooled between her thighs.

  “You will do as I say, Skye. We’ve already discussed this as much as I intend to unless you want this to be over. Enough with the back and forth. Either you turn yourself over to me or we are done here. You always have the power to end this—you can safe-word out. Until then you will obey. Do you understand me?”

  She nodded her head as much as she could with him still holding her so firmly. His face was stern, but there was no anger there. Why did she find that reassuring? Her mind was spinning at a hundred miles an hour.

  His voice went softer. “I understand what you’re going through. When you truly give yourself over to this, to me, the panic will go away. And what I’m about to do will help you. If you can’t take it you have your safe words. Are you safe-wording now? Is that what you’r
e telling me by your resistance? Because if you are I will absolutely respect it, no questions asked. You get dressed, go home, we part friends. End of story. You may respond.”

  “I…No. I’m not safe-wording.”

  She knew then that she wasn’t, she didn’t need to. That the combination of his sternness and his tenderness made her feel strangely safe. She pulled in a long breath, found that it calmed her.

  “I didn’t think you were,” he said. “I’d have felt it when I put you on your knees if there was real fight in you. I’m telling you this so you understand why I did it. That I wasn’t operating from my own agenda. I was testing you, but only to see what it was you truly wanted. What you could handle. Your response tells me everything. It’s part of how I operate as a Dominant. I will always operate with your best interests in mind. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “Yes. Yes.”

  He smiled a little. “Alright, then. Here we go, Skye. And no more talking until I tell you to—last warning.”

  Before she had a chance to think any further he pulled her up and into his lap, laying her face down. The wool of his slacks was scratchy against her stomach, the undersides of her breasts, the front of her thighs. He smoothed his palms over her back as he spoke, helping her to accept what was happening, even as her mind still echoed faintly that it was too much, too sudden. Even as desire flowed through her veins like liquid fire.

  “You need this, Skye,” he said. “You need a little pain to give you the chemical release in your brain that will make this all good for you. Endorphins. You’re so damn responsive you got a little just from me touching you, didn’t you?”

  Her breath hitched.

  “Don’t answer,” he continued. “There’s no need to. I can feel it in the heat of your skin, hear it in the rhythm of your breathing. I could see how beautifully hard your nipples were before I put you over my knee, and now I can feel it against my thigh.”

  A small pinch at the skin on the underside of her buttocks, making her wince. It didn’t really hurt, she realized—it was simply sensation. And the chemicals were flooding her brain, making her go soft and loose all over.

  He went on, his voice growing deeper, smokier. “You have a gorgeous body. Incredible skin. Flawless.”

  He drew one finger slowly down the length of her spine, causing a ripple of desire to dance over her flesh. When he got to her buttocks he moved lower, dipping between her thighs, brushing her pussy lips. She squirmed, parted her legs a bit more.

  “Ah, good girl. You like it, don’t you? You’ll love it all, I promise. I’ll see to it that you do. And I will love every minute of what I’m going to do to you.”

  The first slap was nothing more than a quick rap against her skin—sensation more than pain—but it surprised her, and she jumped. He laid a palm flat against the small of her back, stilling her. After a few moments he began a slow rhythm, moving his hand over her buttocks. She was surprised that while there was a slow build of pain as he increased the rhythm and force, it felt good. And the harder he smacked her, the wetter her sex grew.

  “Breathe into it, Skye, into the pain. Into the pleasure.” He was still holding her down with one hand on her lower back, making her feel his command.

  The spanking went on, harder and harder. Sensation moved over her skin, spread over her body in rolling waves. She felt that odd sinking sensation again, more intensely this time, and understood finally what it was she’d felt when she’d first met him.

  Subspace.

  Her mind was letting go, moving to some other plane where she was hyper-aware of everything: his scent, the faint scent of the suede upholstery on the chair, the slapping sound of his palm coming down on her flesh, the soft, white noise of the heater kicking in somewhere in the house. She could feel the hard muscles of his thighs beneath her, her breasts crushed into his lap. And the solid ridge of his erection against her belly. She moved her hips, grinding into him.

  “Hold still, Skye,” he said sharply.

  She tried. But as the volley of smacks rained down on her, her flesh heating up, seared by his hands, it became almost impossible. Pleasure and pain.

  Pain…

  When he moved a hand between her thighs and plunged two fingers right into her wet, aching heat, she jumped.

  “Ah!”

  “Shh,” he soothed her, pressing down on the small of her back once more. “Tell me, Skye, do you need to come?”

  “Yes!”

  “Right now?”

  “God, yes,” she groaned.

  A small chuckle from him. “I will make you come tonight. But not yet. Do you understand? You’re to hold it back.”

  She bit her lip, pulled in a long breath, trying to steady herself, to be compliant. She wondered for a moment that she found herself wanting to obey his orders. To please him. But she couldn’t figure it out. Not with her mind spinning, her body reeling with sensation. All she could do was let it happen.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Adam felt the moment when her body let go on a deeper level, felt her long, lean muscles relax. She went very quiet as he started to spank her again. He pressed his fingers into her pussy. She was all hot velvet inside, and he wanted to pump into her, wanted to watch her squirm. But he was also loving the trance state she was in now. The way her head had dropped down as she gave herself over. He loved the sharp ache of his cock, even the act of denying himself the pleasure of turning her over and fucking her.

  Instead he kept spanking her, watching the skin on her fine, sweet ass turn darker shades of pink one stroke at a time. She had a perfect ass, this girl. Heart-shaped and absolutely made for spanking. His cock throbbed.

  He smacked her harder, using a flat, stiff palm, fingers together, to make for a sharp sting, keeping sensation on the surface of her skin, rather than the heavier, thudding sensation he would show her later with a suede flogger.

  Yes, must flog her.

  Christ, to watch her cuffed and writhing under the flogger…

  Her skin was hot beneath his hand. He knew she was feeling the pain. Knew just as well that she was converting the pain to pleasure without even knowing she was doing it. He could see it in the way she moved, her whole torso undulating gently. He could hear it in her sighing breath. Could feel it in her hot, clenching pussy.

  She would be a perfect sensation bottom, this girl.

  He moved his fingers deeper, thrusting in and out, and felt the signaling quiver deep inside her.

  “Not yet, Skye,” he ordered.

  “Adam…”

  He gave a sharp smack on the back of her thigh.

  “Ah!”

  “Shh, quiet. You are not to come yet. Hold it back. You can do it.”

  He held perfectly still for several moments until she had herself under control. Then he smacked her ass hard, then harder, and drove his fingers into her again.

  She whimpered. She was so damn wet inside he could hardly stand it.

  Control.

  Yes, control was key, as always.

  He drew in a breath, forced himself to calm, to keep his voice steady. “Soon,” he told her. “Take a deep breath. Good. Now another.”

  She did as he asked. There was no struggle in her to obey, only not to come.

  She was too damn perfect, this gorgeous creature.

  His cock was a hammering beat in his groin. He needed to come maybe almost as badly as she did.

  Focus.

  He looked down at her, at the curve of her ass, the sinuous length of her back, the long brown hair falling down around her shoulders. He breathed in her scent: her hair, the sharp scent of her desire.

  Just do it. Do what you must. For her.

  Because that’s what it was all about, wasn’t it? Being of service in some perverse yet very real way. In his mind what he did as a Dom was service every bit as much as some subbie scrubbing the floor, naked on her knees. Service and…restitution.

  Don’t think. Just be here with her.

  He smoot
hed his palm over her lovely pinking flesh before starting again with a sharp volley of hard, punishing slaps, making her wince. Making her groan. He slid one hand under her body to press onto her lusciously swollen clit with his thumb as he smacked the heated flesh of her ass, murmuring, “Now, Skye. Come for me, beautiful girl.”

  She came apart under his hands. Just shattered—he could feel it. She called out, her body writhing, her tight little cunt clenching hard around his fingers. She was soaking wet, her hips arching. Fucking beautiful.

  He’d never needed to come so badly in his life.

  It only made him work her mercilessly, roughly, milking her orgasm for all it was worth until she was squirming and moaning in his lap, her head thrashing. Totally undone.

  When it was over he could hear the ragged cadence of her breath, and his own. His cock was still rock-hard beneath her. Hurting.

  Didn’t matter. All that mattered was serving her needs. That was his job. And this was her first time. He certainly couldn’t fuck her now. Irresponsible. That’s what it would be if he did what he wanted to do—flip her onto her back and plow into that wet, silken cunt until he emptied himself into her.

  Christ.

  He shook his head. What was wrong with him?

  He pulled her up so she was sitting in his lap and put his arm around her. Taking her chin in his hand, he searched her eyes, which were a warm golden-brown. Whiskey eyes. They were glossy with her climax, her lids half-closed—she was fairly deep in subspace.

  “You are so fucking beautiful, Skye,” he murmured. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen before. And you take it well. Your body soaks it up. Revels in it.”

  He paused to brush her hair from her face. To admire the pink pout of her mouth. Resisted the urge to kiss it. That was something he didn’t do with the girls he trained. This was power play, the thing he got off on. The thing he did so well. Not a relationship, which was something he didn’t do, either, for damn good reason. He only ever kissed the women he dated, fucked. Vanilla girls that knew nothing of who and what he really was. Again, for good reason. If he ever dared to mix the two…But he wouldn’t.