But as part of teaching me pleasure? Maybe so. And maybe I’ll like it.
Liquid desire pumps through my veins.
“Go to your bedroom,” he growls.
He presses a hand to my lower back, urging me forward. I go without hesitation, and the second my feet cross the threshold, he pulls my arms behind my back. My wrists cross and I feel the cool fabric of the tie circling around them.
Blood rushes in my ears as I stand there, letting him bind me firmly. I have to fight the instinct to twist my wrists and free myself. I know this is part of the lesson. Nate has something to teach me, and I want to know what it is.
Nate guides me to the side of the bed and wraps his hands around my hips. Pressing me down so my upper body lies across the bed, I quiver as my arms ache a little behind me. Being bound like this is so new and different, every nerve ending in my body is on high alert. I turn my head so my cheek presses into the comforter and Nate pulls my hips back, straightening my spine and positioning my ass so it juts back at him.
He touches the tie around my wrists, then runs his hands up my bare arms as he leans over me and blankets me with his body.
“Your future husband may have some kinks that you need to be willing to explore. Relax, little dancer. You’re going to like this lesson.”
Something about being bound brings out a sassy side ofme. I want to challenge him, to push him, and I’m not exactly sure why.
“How do you know?”
Cool air washes across my back as he stands up and pulls away. My skirt gets lifted and tossed over my back and his hand is suddenly on my ass, caressing and kneading my left cheek. He works it until the flesh begins to feel slightly numb and then he draws back.
“Because tonight you get to experience my dick, and we both know you’re greedy for it.”
His hand connects with my ass sharply, making a resounding slap and a bloom of sharp pain across my cheek. I try to suck in a breath, but I can’t because my mouth is hanging open in absolute shock. He justspankedme.
And then he slaps my ass again.
Then once more.
My body jerks forward on the bed from the force of it, the sting worse with each strike. I’m seriously debating calling out my safe word—we finally settled on ‘pirouette,’ and it’s explicitly mentioned in the contract I signed—when, without warning, the sharpness of the slaps melts away, leaving behind a deliciously warm pleasure that spreads across my ass cheeks like hot syrup. The sensation seeps between my legs and it feels so damn good, I can’t hold back a moan.
A bead of wetness rolls from my center and down my thigh.
“You’re already so ready for me.”
Nate drags his finger across my inner thigh, smearing the wetness. It feels cool against my skin. I should be mortified at my arousal, but I’m not. I’m turned on even more.
The minute he mentioned his dick, I lost all control of my sexual need. It’s running free and loose, wanting everything, demanding everything. Is he going to take my virginity after all?
Nate begins caressing my right buttock. I instinctively brace myself for another spanking, but he doesn’t deliver one. Simply caresses me until I finally relax. That’s when the first slap comes. Open-palmed, hard against my flesh.
Ignoring the sting this time, I wait for more with anticipation, because I’m eager to feel what comes next. Instead, he thrusts his hand between my thighs and urges my legs apart until I’m spread as far as I can comfortably go. Palming my wet sex, he lightly kneads there just like he did before. The pressure over my clit is excruciatingly good. Grinding against his hand, I whimper as the first stirrings of an orgasm thread through me.
Nate slides his fingers into me, but only a little way. A rumbling sound works from his throat as he fingers me, exploring and thrusting until I literally can’t hold still. He slides the two fingers out and then forward over my clit, making fast, small circles around it before thrusting the fingers back inside me.
I mutter something that might have been his name if I hadn’t stopped myself. In true Nate Windemere fashion, however, he caught on. Teasing my clit, he leans over my back.
“You’ve never said my name while I’m making you come. Say it.”
He rubs harder, pushing me closer to the burst of pleasure I’m desperately chasing. He’s right. Though I’ve come very close to moaning his name, I haven’t, becausethinking of this as a professional arrangement was the only way to keep my feelings out of it. Using his first name makes this more emotionally intimate and that was never the point.
“Mr. Windemere,” I pant.
He laughs harshly and withdraws his fingers. There’s no holding in my moan of protest.
“Say it, Piper. Say my name.”
If I do, then what? I’d be letting him in completely, and I can’t. After what we shared at dinner this evening, it’s even harder to remember that our relationship isn’t real.
