The Dom's Dungeon

Chapter Seven

“Well, now,” Alex murmured in a low rumble that sent nerves racing up Mac's arms.

Oh frak, what have I done? Mac froze, shocked at her own behavior.

Alex's lips curved, and then he gave Cynthia a dismissive look. “I'm more than adequately served. Leave.”

The sub jerked back as if Alex had slapped her. Mac almost laughed as Cynthia stalked away, rehooking her corset, heading toward the front of the club. Apparently the Dom she'd accompanied had left. Smart man.

Suddenly Alex's hand pressed against Mac's pussy. She jumped, her gaze shooting to his amused eyes. His hand felt huge between her thighs, and hot against her bare labia.

“If you keep rearranging our bargain,” he said, “I might not be able to keep up.”

“I…” Trapped by his blue gaze, she couldn't find the right words to say. I didn't want you to take her? I was jealous? I wanted to be mean? All of them were true. “But…”

His eyes crinkled. “You, little cat, do not have permission to speak.” He lifted his hand from the juncture between her legs. “And you're not ready to be played with down here…yet.” His fingers threaded through her hair, and he leaned forward, tipping her back against the arm of the chair. Her gasp opened her lips, but he didn't shove his tongue down her throat, didn't grab her breast.

Why hadn't he groped her down there? She'd sure given him the chance.

Instead his tongue traced over her lower lip in a teasing slide. Then the upper. His mouth brushed against her cheek, her chin, her neck; his lips were firm yet smooth. Not wet or sloppy at all.

When he returned to her mouth, he nibbled her lower lip, then sucked on it lightly. Slanting his mouth across hers, he kissed her, his tongue only caressing her lips, no further. He moved down her neck with tiny nips and licks and kisses. She shivered when he bit the muscle at the top of her shoulder, holding it between his teeth long enough to send goose bumps down her arms. Back up, ever so slowly, and this time when he took her lips, she opened to him, letting her tongue fence with his.

Never sloppy. He was even so careful that she wanted to push him a little. Her tongue slid into his mouth, and suddenly his hand fisted in her hair, holding her in place as he ravaged her mouth, the controlled violence shocking.

Exciting.

When he pulled back and licked over her lips, she took a deep breath. The air felt as if the temperature in the building had been raised too high. Then coolness wafted over her chest. She stiffened, looking down. Her bustier lay open, lacing undone, her breasts exposed.

Alex's arm felt like iron under her back, and that hand still held her hair. Held her trapped. Without taking his eyes from hers, he curved a big hand around her breast, his fingers hot against her skin. She inhaled sharply at the unexpectedly erotic sensations shooting through her as he caressed her. The surge of…of something inside her frightened her, and she grasped his wrist and ripped her gaze from his.

“Look at me, MacKensie,” he said, voice deepening. When her eyes returned to his, he smiled slightly. “Good girl. Now let go of me, or I'll restrain you.”

“You wouldn't.”

But his eyes didn't waver.

He would. She forced her fingers to release his wrist. “You promised. I'm not aroused,” she whispered. Fear curled inside her to join with the unsettling tension, and an odd temptation to let him continue, to have his hands…everywhere.

“You told Cynthia you'd take care of me,” he whispered back. “Can you tolerate another ten minutes of being fondled?”

She'd been an idiot to offer herself instead of Cynthia, but he hadn't asked her to do that. Her big mouth had run amok all by itself. Okay, ten minutes… What was another person groping her anyway? At least she liked him as opposed to the others. She managed a short nod.

When the sun lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled, and his eyes heated, a trickle of worry crept into her. What could he do in ten minutes with just his hands?

She found out exactly what he could do when his hand on her breast moved, and his fingers circled one nipple, then the other, grazing over the bumpy areolae to the jutting peaks. Peaks—her nipples were hard, and the room wasn't cold. Surely she couldn't be aroused.

His index finger circled one nub, around and around, until that nipple actually ached. He did the other, and the feeling was… His fingers closed on one rigid peak, rolling it gently, then giving it a small pinch that sent a stab of excitement through her body and seemed to awaken nerves in her pussy. A throbbing in her groin joined the throbbing in her nipples.

She swallowed a moan as he alternated between her breasts, back and forth, pressing the nipples hard, then harder, until each controlled pinch hurt and yet increased the burning hunger inside her. A moan escaped her.

Satisfaction glimmered in his eyes before he tightened the arm under her back, bringing her breasts up to his mouth. His lips closed on one swollen nipple, and she found out just what hot and wet really meant. His tongue swirled around the peak, and suddenly she could almost feel it swirling on her clit; and then he sucked, a gentle pull, then more forcefully. The other breast the same. And back, this time sucking, and suddenly, a slow, careful bite on the peak.

“Ahhhh!” Her fingers dug into his shoulders in shock as electrifying sparks shot through her. Had that sound come from her? She pushed against his chest, horrified. She never lost control like that; she was a—Oh God, she wasn't a whore. Not anymore. Shame washed through her, filling her until there remained no room for arousal.

He'd drawn back when she stiffened. His sharp eyes considered her face, then her hands and her breasts. “Why does being aroused scare you?” he asked softly.

She closed her eyes.

“No, look at me, little cat.”

She could feel his intense gaze on her, like warmth stroking over her face; she could feel how he waited for her compliance. Her hands in fists, she opened her eyes.

“Good girl.” His lips curved up in approval. “You told me you don't get aroused because of something in your past.”

He waited for her nod.

“Why did that something make you frightened of your own response?”

Because whores don't feel.Because johns don't care. Men paid for an available body, not a responsive one. Because losing track of surroundings was a way to get hurt. “I just don't like it.”

His eyes crinkled even as he shook his head. “You do like it, little cat. But you don't want to, because it scares you. There is a difference.” His warm hand stroked over her breast again, and she was horrified to feel her nipple pucker and poke into his palm. “What would happen if you didn't have any choice? If you couldn't push my hands away or keep me from continuing? You could only feel.”

The thought shut off her breathing for a second. Not have any control? Fear filled her even as heat seared through her veins, and her nipples tightened until they actually hurt.

He nodded as if she'd spoken. “Want and fear both. So how brave are you, little cat? Will you let me take you further?”

Her body urged for more. Her head said no, but she knew damned well that her head was screwed up. How brave was she? She didn't think her body would ever, ever be interested in sex again. Shouldn't she see…? But what if I panic? What if I don't? “All right,” she whispered.

God, how could that approving smile of his make her feel so good inside?

He stroked her cheek. “Brave little cat. Trust isn't easy for you, is it? Because you don't fully trust me, we'll stay here in public. The club safe word is 'red.' Do you understand what it's for?”

“Yes, but—”

“Yes, what?” He frowned at her, recalling her to his rules.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He rose to his feet with her still in his arms.

“Hey!” She wiggled. What was he going to do?

“You don't have permission to speak, little cat. You may use your safe word if you need to.” He walked across the room to a leather-covered table and laid her on it, then whipped a strap over her ribs to hold her in place. She'd thought he meant to control her by using his hands to hold her. Like he had been.

She struggled to sit up, and he pressed her shoulders down. “MacKensie. We have a deal. If you became aroused, I could continue, right?”

Heart pounding, she sucked in air as she stared up at him. His hands were warm on her shoulders, his eyes level. Patient. She had agreed. She gave him a short nod.

“And you agreed to submit to me, knowing what BDSM involved. You also agreed to continue a minute ago. Right?”

Oh God, she had agreed. Okay, okay. This was just part of BDSM, and he wasn't paying her. I'm not a whore, just someone doing kinky things. Kind of. She nodded again.

“Good.” He smiled slightly, cupping her cheek, then touched her lips lightly with his. “I'm going to restrain you, little cat, because your mind, for whatever reason, thinks you shouldn't do this and tells you to stop. But I'm not going to stop, and there will be nothing you can do about it.”

Even as he spoke, he pulled leather straps over her arms, her wrists. Then one across her hips over her skirt. To her shock, he flipped her skirt up and wrapped a Velcro cuff around her lower thigh. Bending her knee, he pushed her leg toward her shoulder and clipped the thigh cuff right beside her wrist. He did the same on the other side, and she lay on the table splayed open like a frog about to be cut up.

What was sexy about that? Yet the feeling of having her most intimate parts bared and vulnerable sent a shiver through her. She could see a few people around the edge of the scene area, watching.

Alex chuckled and rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, pulling her attention back to him. “Take a breath, sweetheart.”

She pulled in a deep breath.

His eyes were very blue and seemed to fill her whole vision. “Good.” He kissed her again, gently, lightly, coaxing her to respond. When she did, he pulled back, then ran his hands up and down her torso to the tender undersides of her breasts. To the nipples that had again started to pucker. When he sucked on the nipples, the tightness turned into a tingling ache of need.

Then she heard someone in the crowd laugh, turned her head, and saw their faces. She stiffened and made a useless attempt to move.

Alex lifted his head and studied her for a second. “Little cat, do you trust me not to leave you? Not for a second?”

Why was he asking her that? But he didn't say more. She bit her lip. Would he stay with her? Well, he'd saved her from that man and then held her. He hadn't abandoned her. She'd seen that he had his own code of honor. “Yes, Sir,” she said.

“Ah.” He smiled at her. “I like the trust I see growing. Now, I promise I won't hurt you while you're restrained here on the table. Do you trust me to keep my word?”

A whore learned to read people well. She usually knew when someone lied to her. He wasn't lying. “Yes, Sir.” She swallowed. “What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to take a little more control from you, MacKensie. I will ask you to keep your eyes closed.” From under the table, he lifted headphones. “You won't be able to see or hear, just to feel my hands on your body. My mouth on your pussy.”

Her breath hitched at the image.

“You have your safe word, little cat. Now close your eyes.” She did. When the earphones covered her ears, she heard the rhythmic sounds of the ocean: a low roar, then hissing. All she could hear was the ocean; all she could see was black. Had he left her? Her eyes popped open, and she looked right up into Alex's amused face. Like he knew she'd panic.

She caught a breath of Alex's rich aftershave just before his hand cupped her cheek, and he kissed her, gently, coaxing the response he knew she could give. After a minute, he lifted his head and touched her temple in an unspoken command.

Dammit, she wanted to be able to see.

He waited.

After giving him a glare that made his lips quirk, she closed her eyes.

His mouth covered hers again. As he toyed with her lips, nibbled on them, her anxiety diminished. And after a minute, many minutes, he moved. She had a second of panic. Then his hands touched her breasts, the feel of his slightly rough fingers already familiar. His lips closed around one nipple, his tongue hot against the sensitive tip as he sucked.

His mouth withdrew. Coolness over the wet nub, then…a pinching sensation. Not his fingers. The compression tightened right to the edge of pain and didn't loosen. A clamp. Like that other sub had worn. The steady pressure created a sizzling river of sensation between her breast and her groin. His hot mouth sucked on the other nipple, then the pressure again. The ache in her pussy increased.

His hand stroked down her stomach, trailing across the top of her skirt, then past and over her bare leg. He'd moved to the foot of the table, she realized, as his hands massaged her hips. When he stroked the exposed undersides of her thighs, it brought home how high and wide he'd parted her knees, leaving her open.

She tried to move her legs, and none of the straps gave, and the ocean rolled through the darkness as his hands moved closer to where she ached.

His hand pressed against her pussy for a second before stroking her thigh, leaving a wet trail in its wake. His silent way of showing that she was aroused, and he could continue. Oh frak, how could she want to run so badly and yet be so excited?

He returned to her pussy, a finger stroking through her folds. She kept waiting for groping, for his hand to rub her crotch as if sanding wood.

He didn't. Instead he used just a slickened fingertip, ever so slowly. Featherlight, it circled her clit, clockwise, then counterclockwise, never actually touching the aching nubbin of nerves. Her hips tried to push up, and the restraints held her completely still as his finger circled, then stroked down through her folds, making a figure eight, circling her opening, then up and around the increasingly sensitive nerves and back down in a rhythm that rolled through her like the ocean sounds rolled through her head.

She could actually feel her pussy swelling, engorging with blood until the tissues became painfully distended. Until…

Something touched her clit, right on top, a shocking warmth and wetness. She cried out, and the waves drowned the sound; she could only feel as his tongue stroked over her, lapping one side, then the other. Right over the top.

A seething tension grew inside her with every maddening, burning repetition.

He stopped, and then she felt something prodding at her opening. She drew in a breath, the muscles in her legs tightening. She knew this feeling. He was going to fuck her now, shove his cock in and—

It slid in, and she pulled in a breath at the exquisite feel of him sliding through her sensitive, swollen tissues. Her hands closed on the edge of the bench as the in-and-out movements sent her higher.

Then his cock somehow doubled in size, and his mouth came down on her clit again.

The piercing shock flamed through her. Her back arched, jostling the nipple clamps and sending electric sizzles to her pussy where his tongue flicked over her clit and his—not his cock, she realized with a startled breath—his fingers. He had his fingers in her and was pumping them slowly in and out as his tongue stroked her up and down.

The pace slowly increased, as did the wet pressure over her clit. His tongue drew an agonizing line of heat up one side as his fingers pushed deeper into her.

The sensations from his mouth and her insides merged, forming one desperate bundle of nerves. Another stroke of his tongue and slide of his fingers. Each ruthless touch sent her higher. The muscles in her vagina contracted until they ached, and her fingers scrabbled at the table as she tried to arch higher to his mouth. Needing, needing…

His tongue flicked directly on top of her clit.

The coiled-up ecstasy released as if launched from a cannon, shooting heat and pleasure through her in shattering spasms until her toes curled and her neck arched.

He licked over her again. And again. His fingers thrust deeply inside her, and her pussy clamped around him. She shuddered as more waves of pleasure broke over her helpless body.

When the fingers inside her could no longer elicit a quiver, he patted her thigh, and she felt the strap fall away. He did the other restraint and lowered her legs. For a minute, he massaged her aching muscles, and then he closed her thighs over her wet, swollen pussy, making her moan.

When he pulled the earphones off, all the noise of the club burst over her like a storm of sound.

“Look at me now, MacKensie.”

She opened her eyes and stared into a gaze of molten blue. He stroked her hair back from her face, his lips curving in a faint smile.

He would want to get off very badly by now, she realized. He needed to take her, and she'd let him. He deserved it.

“I got off,” she whispered, as if he didn't know. But she still couldn't believe it. Or what it had felt like, like the boundaries of her universe had expanded in the chaos of coming.

He nodded, his expression solemn, only a hint of laughter in his eyes. “I know.”

She started to move and realized that her arms remained strapped down. “Why don't you release me?”

The dimple in his cheek grew as if he was smothering a laugh, and his eyes glinted. “Remember how I said I wouldn't hurt you?”

She nodded. A tremor moved through her body as she thought about all the whips and canes being used in this place.

“Well, I won't. But removing the breast clamps…might.” And he undid the one on the left.

As blood surged back into the pinched nipple, nerves fired. Painfully. Her arms strained against the straps as she tried to touch the pain. And couldn't.

He smiled into her eyes before licking the throbbing nipple. Her back arched high, her arms held immobile, the sensation indescribable. As his tongue circled the swollen peak, the pain mingled with pleasure until she couldn't tell them apart.

“Brace yourself,” he murmured. The second came off, and oh frak, it felt as if her nipple had ballooned into a huge, aching nerve. When he licked over the peak, a high whine escaped her.

A minute later, he released the rest of the straps and helped her off the table. Her knees buckled.

He caught her, picking her up easily. And carried her away from the table.

She stared up at him.

He'd had her tied up and available but hadn't taken her. He hadn't gotten off.