TamingTara

Chapter Twenty-One

Joe leaned against the bar at Le Château, a glass of San Pellegrino in his hand, and surveyed the scenes. His head thumped in time with Enigma and he lifted a hand to rub the back of his neck. He wasn’t sure what he was doing there. He’d had some crazy idea of coming here, finding some willing submissive he could flog and fuck into next week to take out some of his frustration, but his responsibilities as a Dom wouldn’t let him do that. Plus there was nobody who really interested him that way. It all seemed too…easy. He attracted enough interest from some of the pretty little subs there tonight, but instead he stood alone at the bar, letting the music increase his headache.

He wanted to sit down. Weariness and disappointment and anger had sapped his energy. He found a comfortable arm chair and sank into it, letting his head relax against the back of it.

The tall slender blonde who walked into the room caught his attention. Probably because she looked like Tara, her honey-toned hair gleaming in the red and gold lights. But she was dressed in white and—holy crap, it was Tara.

She stood just inside the entrance, looking around, the white off-the-shoulder mini dress she wore hugging her curves.

Joe straightened, his heart sledgehammering so hard in his chest he could barely hear the music anymore. He waited for her to spot him. Had she come here looking for him?

Finally her eyes came to rest on him. Their eyes met in a collision he felt viscerally. Her lips parted. She hesitated. Then she started toward him on long bare legs, her feet clad in strappy white sandals that revealed pink polished toenails. He wasn’t a foot fetish kind of guy, but he had an urge to pay some attention to those pretty toes.

She stopped in front of him. Nerves shimmered in her eyes and her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi, Tara.”

A pause thickened around them.

She curled her fingers around the small purse she carried—no flogger tonight—and her breasts lifted on a long inhalation. “I was hoping you would be here.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

She lowered her chin and looked at him through her eyelashes. “Could we maybe go somewhere else?”

“Where do you want to go?”

Her eyes darted around. “It doesn’t matter. Just somewhere…oh, never mind.”

And she went to her knees in front of him.

He stared at her, unmoving. What the fuck? His heart almost burst out of his chest.

Her head bent, her long golden hair curtaining her face, she set her little purse on the floor beside the chair and clasped her hands together in front of her.

“Tara.” He reached out a hand and lifted her chin. She met his gaze and the submission shining there sucked the breath right out of him.

“You were right,” she whispered, her shiny pink lips barely moving. “About me. I do want to submit, but…but only to you.”

Her trembling admission stopped his heart. For a second he was lightheaded, out of breath. Then his heart lurched back into a crazy rhythm.

A long, low groan tore out of him. “Oh Tara.”

“I’ll do anything you want,” she said. “Anything. Just tell me.”

Satisfaction and hot desire swelled in him.

“You’ll let me tie you up?”

“Yes.”

“Flog you?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper. “Please.”

His cock surged painfully.

“Fuck you anywhere I want? Your mouth? Your ass?”

“Yes.”

“While other people watch us?”

Her eyes went huge, her hesitation barely there. “Yes.”

“So they know you’re mine.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Suck my cock,” he ordered. “Right here. Right now.”

Her hands immediately went to the fly of his pants, her slender fingers trembling as she tugged the zipper down over his straining cock. She bit her lip, but she didn’t even glance around to see if anyone else was watching as she drew his hard, throbbing length out.

Truthfully, he didn’t care if someone watched. He wasn’t an exhibitionist, but on the other hand, he did want her to submit to him in public. And she had no hesitation in doing so.

She bent her head to him, kissed the sensitive tip of his cock, wet with pre-come, then opened her mouth and took him in. Fuck! His hands clenched into fists, then he reached for her head, pulled her hair back from her face and held it clasped loosely at the nape of her neck. Hot wet velvet surrounded him, the hungry suction of her mouth pulling at him, sending fire racing through his veins. He slowly expelled his pent-up breath. Pleasure assaulted him, every nerve ending sharply aware of the drag of her hot, nimble tongue over him.

When she lifted off him, he started to bark an order, but when he saw her dribble a thin line of saliva from her mouth over his cock, he set his jaw and shut up. She spread the wet heat over him with her tongue, slick and slippery, easing the way for her clinging mouth again when she took him in. His thighs tensed, heat cascaded over his skin and he let out a long, low groan. He tightened his hands in her hair and helped her find her rhythm, her mouth pulling at him, her teeth scraping over the ridge of his cock in a blindingly sublime pain. His head spun as she sucked and licked him and he lifted his hips to fuck her mouth.

She made greedy little noises of pleasure as she sucked him, worshiped him with her mouth and her hands, her moans vibrating right through his balls. His body craved more of her, need whipping through him, blistering pleasure and ferocious hunger.

“Gonna come in your mouth, Tara,” he muttered, darkness shrouding his vision. “Oh Jesus, oh yeah…there it is.” And his climax roared over him like a California earthquake, a seven-point-oh on the Richter scale, pleasure racing up his spine, down his legs, tightening his balls and out through his cock into her mouth. She sucked and swallowed and murmured her appreciation, one hand around his shaft at the bottom, the other curled into his pubic hair and tugging with an exquisite sharp pain that intensified his orgasm.

“Jesus!” He held her head until he’d finished, his cock pulsing in her wet mouth, and then she drew back and lifted her eyes to his.

“Was that good?” she whispered, mouth swollen and wet.

He groaned again. “Oh Christ.” His hands slid to her shoulders, pulling her up and toward him, and then she was on his lap and they were kissing, mouth to mouth, his own taste sharp on her tongue.

He wrapped his arms around her so tightly she probably couldn’t breathe, but she didn’t complain, just kept kissing him back with that sweet sinful mouth. He slid a hand down her back and pulled one thigh up and over him, her short dress riding up so high her ass might be exposed to the rest of the room.

He cracked an eyelid open to see if anyone was watching.

Oh, yeah. They’d attracted quite an audience. Heat slid over him, but mingled with pride and ownership and …something more.

“People are watching,” he murmured to Tara. She tensed, but only a little.

“I don’t care,” she muttered, burying her face in the side of his neck. “I don’t care.”

“Me either. That was amazing. God, Tara.”

Her body, curled up on his lap, still quivered, her breathing irregular.

“Now you need to come.”

“Yes, please,” she whispered.

He smiled.

He led her to a room at the end of the hall—the Dungeon. She trembled as he opened the door and let her enter before him.

“It’s the only room available,” he said, closing the door. “Are you nervous?”

Blue lights gleamed off extreme equipment and toys—an imposing black St. Andrews cross, a black leather bench, paddles, canes and cuffs. A row of candles in glass flickered along one wall.

“Yes.” She faced him.

“Good. You should be.”

Her stomach gave a jump of excitement and fear.

“You know the safe word.”

“Yes.”

“Are you ready?” He walked toward her, full of purpose and strength and masterful authority. “Are you ready to submit to me? Completely?”

“Yes.” Her gaze hung on his. What was he planning to do her? Curiosity burned along with the ache of desire between her legs, the thrill of fear that shivered over her skin.

He stood in front of her, close enough to feel his heat but not touching. “Are you afraid, Tara?”

“Terrified.” The honest admission fell from her lips. Her hands trembled. “I’m so terrified, Joe.”

Not of what he could do to her. She had a safe word and she recognized she trusted him totally. He would never hurt her. He’d never humiliated her other than by forcing her to look inside herself and realize …she was lying. To him. And to herself.

But she was filled with terror at the thought of letting go of control.

“I want to do it,” she whispered, eyes still fastened on his, begging for his understanding. “But I’m afraid I can’t.”

And the understanding she needed from him was there, in his eyes, curving his mouth into a faint smile.

He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear in a tender gesture that started her melting inside.

“You can do it,” he said softly. “You can do anything, Tara. You’re strong and smart and sexy. I told you before…the things that are the hardest to do take the most courage. I know you have it in you.”

His tender confidence in her confused her. He was so aggressive, so intimidating with his air of authority and command, and yet she felt protected and safe with him. Safe enough to let go.

Nerves clutched at her stomach again and she swallowed hard.

“I want to give you everything I know you want,” he continued. “All those dark secrets I know you have. Last time you held back, but I saw it—deep inside you, the part of you that wants to be dominated and fucked. You want to submit because you’re strong.”

She drank in his words, wanting to believe them.

“I’m going to challenge you,” he said. Like he hadn’t already? God! “I’m going to make you give more of yourself than you ever have. I’m going to take you places you’ve never been. You know how this goes?”

She lifted her chin and nodded again.

“My way.” He stroked her bare shoulder. “Whatever I tell you to do, you do. No questions. No hesitation.”

A dark thrill shivered over her. But despite the fear still lurking inside her, it felt natural and right to let him lead her that way. She wanted it so much.

“First take off your dress,” he ordered her.

She reached for the hem of the stretchy dress and eased it up her thighs. He stepped back to watch, his eyes hot and hungry. As always with him, she felt sexy and desired, and she wriggled her hips as she tugged the dress up over them, over her breasts and off. She stood before him in white lace panties and bra. Her nipples tingled and tightened and she ran her hands over the top curves of her breasts, down over her stomach.

His eyes darkened.

“Love the white lace,” he said, his voice smoky. “Are your panties wet, Tara?”

“I…I don’t know.” Of course she knew. She’d been aching between her legs since she’d seen Joe and sucked on his cock.

“You’re lying,” he said. “You know you’re wet.”

She bit her lip.

“Lying is a punishable offense,” he continued. “You know that. Don’t you?”

She nodded.

“Come here.” He moved toward the St. Andrews cross, silhouetted black against the shiny blue wall. She followed him, eying the chains gleaming silver and blue in the lights.

Her pussy clenched and she trembled inside. What was he going to do? Joe followed her, helped position her on the cross, facing away from him, legs apart, then fastened her ankles to the cross. Her chest tightened. Then he lifted her arms one by one and fastened them too with cuffs around her wrists attached to the chains.

“Let me see,” he murmured, sliding his hand over her ass, then between her legs, cupping her pussy over the sheer lace. “Oh yeah, you’re wet. Your panties are soaked, Tara.”

She gave a nod.

“Did sucking my cock make you wet?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Does being restrained make you wet?”

She swallowed. “Yes.” She was totally at his mercy—and a rush of dark pleasure rose inside her.

His hands played with her butt, teasing, stroking, making her shiver and shake and ache with need.

“Hmm. Need these panties off.” And with a sharp wrench, he ripped them right off her. Oh. Dear. God. Liquid heat gushed between her legs.

A hand landed on her ass. She jolted.

“Your body is mine to pleasure or punish as I see fit,” he growled. Another heavy caress heated her flesh. Being totally under his control, while terrifying, only escalated the sensation, intensified the pleasure.

“Feel it?” he murmured. “Wait for it.”

He gave her another tap and heat bloomed over her flesh. The next smack was harder—he’d picked up the wooden paddle she’d seen lying beside the cross.

A series of taps had every nerve ending flaring to life, pain coursing through her body as her ass burned up. Everything inside her tightened into a coil of pleasure so intense it almost wasn’t bearable. Thoughts flew out of her head and her body went limp, suspended on the cross. She gave herself over to sensation, soaked up the heat, let the pain become thick, heavy pleasure, absorbed the helplessness and transformed it into strength.

The knowledge that he could do anything to her at that moment, that she was completely vulnerable, was also transforming. Because as she gave herself up to it, she knew with utter certainty that she trusted him. Completely, totally, with utmost faith that he would not hurt her.

She existed in a hazy glow of pleasure and pain, floating. The rhythm of the taps on her buttocks spread into a shimmer of heat, a blur of thoughts.

He stopped. Her body pulsed with heat and energy as she waited, anticipated…

A soft trickle of a touch slid up her spine. It took a few seconds for her to realize he was licking her. His tongue drew wet strokes across each shoulder and his teeth bit the muscle there, so gently, so softly. She twitched hard. He kissed the nape of her neck, tenderly drawing her hair aside. Ripples of exquisite pleasure slid over her.

He kissed his way back down her spine, pressing a lingering kiss right at the base where she was so sensitive. She shivered.

Gentle hands stroked over her, down her back, over her ass, down her thighs. Back up, he dipped between with probing fingers, right where she ached. Her pussy tightened, her clit straining. And when his fingers brushed over her, tremors started deep inside her. Was it okay to come? Is that what he wanted?

“Yes,” he whispered as if reading her mind. “Come, Tara. Let go.”

The humming intensified, everything inside pulling up tight and hard, higher, harder into a sharp point of exquisite ecstasy that shattered into a starburst of colors behind her closed lids. Her body limp, she sank into the restraints.

“You’re mine,” he said from behind her, voice gruff. “Mine to take—to punish, torment, to pleasure.”

“Yes.”

His words whispered over her like a soothing caress, The pleasure he gave tore down her barriers, the ones she’d clung to so fiercely, but his words reassured. She felt safe, felt protected, felt understood. His words stripped away very last remnant of the walls she’d erected and made her his.

“Christ,” he muttered. He stopped and her body throbbed, drifting on a high of submission. “Christ. I…I’ll be back.”