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“Proving a point.”
“I don't like this. Let me go.”
He dropped to his heels, his hand on her shoulder. “Use your safeword, and I will. Do you remember it?”
She did. The word was right there, she could use it. Should use it. But as she paused, he added another thought to the confused mix in her head. “The second you use that word, I untie you. But if you can trust that truth, you can choose to give yourself a few minutes to explore what’s making you think you need it. I’m not going to hurt you, Les, in any way you don’t want. Or let anything hurt you.”
Her heart was rabbiting, her hands clenched over the strap. His covered it, fingers playing and linking with hers. “Go into your busy brain and tell me why you don’t like it. While you think about it, I’ll occupy myself.”
He leaned in and put his lips on her breast. She shuddered as he passed over the areola, nipping gently at the area next to the peak. He began to work his mouth over the curve, teasing and kissing with heated firm lips. When he closed his mouth over the nipple, he cupped her breast, squeezed it to increase the sensation. How did he expect her to think, to answer the question?
“Tell me, Les. Or I’ll stop.”
He shifted between her spread knees and cupped both breasts, fondling them as he suckled one nipple, then the other. Pulling on it, pulling so much from her. She bit down on a guttural moan.
“I’m out of control. I’m tied up…helpless.”
“Is that such a bad thing? To see where letting go, putting yourself fully into my hands, takes you? You have such hard little nipples.”
“Brick…” She was gasping. When he slid a finger into the wetness between her spread legs, she jerked on the chair. “Oh God…”
“I love watching you break apart under my touch. I’ve waited a long time for it, baby.”
The spread of her legs, the change of rhythm and pressure of his touch, held the climax out of reach. It astounded her, how aroused he could get her. More than she’d experienced during even actual sex with anyone else.
When he sat back on his heels, bracing his hands on her thighs, his fiery gaze swept her flushed face and trembling legs. Her toes were pressed hard to the floor. “This is exactly how I want you to feel tonight. Off balance, wet, needing what I’ll do to you at the end of the night.”
He wasn’t going to…? He reached around her to loosen the belt and free her hands. He brought them to her lap, rubbing her fingers and wrists before he rose to his feet before her. She had to suppress another groan at the size of his cock against his jeans. Her sex contracted at the sight, as he drew her to her feet and steadied her. Touched her face to bring it to his unrelenting expression.
“Get dressed and fix your makeup if you want. Though I think your face is just as beautiful without it.”
He moved toward the door, then turned back. "You going to go home for Easter?"
The fire in his eyes, the stiffness of his gait, told her that erection was aching. Yet the sadist was asking her about her holiday plans.
“Les.” That piercing look. “I asked you a question.”
It was all part of it, she realized. Commanding her attention contributed to the hardness of his cock, for the same reasons it soaked her cunt. She hadn’t realized the power of that by looking at those pictures, but it had been there. The psychological stimulation was as overwhelming—maybe more so—than physical touch.
How Brick made her feel, the things he made her want, weren’t about wearing sexy clothes for him. It was about responding to that Dominant side in a way that had his eyes darkening and that circle of need tightening around her, holding her in a way she wanted and needed.
His expression, his arousal, said he wanted and needed it, too.
“I hadn’t thought about it.” She hadn’t realized Easter was that close, though she was sure her mother had mentioned it during their last phone call, a few days before… everything.
Les had told her she wasn’t sure if her current rotation would allow her to make the trip. “The M&M is right ahead of Easter weekend, so no matter what happens, I’m guessing my weekend will be free.”
But was she really up for that? For explaining to her family, facing them after whatever was decided and discussed…or what she herself would decide to do.
“What if we go together?” His attention sharpened. “Les, I told you that you could get dressed, but as long as you sit in that chair, you sit in it the way I told you.”
She’d closed her legs and brought her hands into her lap to wring them nervously on her thighs, which rounded her back and covered her breasts.
Her breath shortened, a hitch lifting her chest. “Brick…”
That gentling to his tone again, the one that brought her back on point. “Do as I tell you, baby. It will help. Trust me.”
She straightened, lifting her breasts to his intent gaze, and slowly shifted her legs open. When he gave her a short nod of approval, it did help. He’d said she was a submissive. Not submissive. Was this proof of it, how obeying his command, assuming this position, miraculously pulled her mind away from the turmoil and centered her?
