Desire's Edge (19 page)
Dante’s hand tightened on the back of her neck. She had once more that instant feeling of safety flooding through her. And intense relief.
“Kara, you’re in my hands,” he told her, his voice that lovely, low tone that soothed her like a balm on her skin. “You’ll be fine. You’ll be amazing.”
He smoothed his other palm over her stomach, and she felt a shiver of lust in her sex. Pulsing, pulsing. She looked at the bench, frightening and incredibly enticing at the same time.
She wanted Dante to be proud of her. Wanted to be proud of herself.
“Dante . . . I . . . I don’t want to let the fear get in the way. I want this. Absolutely. I just need to . . . breathe a minute.”
“Okay. Take another breath, then. That’s it.”
He leaned in and kissed her cheek. And when she turned her face up to his, he tilted her chin and kissed her lips.
She was flooded with heat. With the taste of him, the soft texture of his mouth. When he swept inside with his tongue, the heat and the need surged through her body.
Oh yes. Want this ...
He pulled back to murmur against her lips, “You are so damn beautiful. This will be so good. I’ll make it good for you, Kara.”
She nodded, most of the fear swept away in the desire washing over her.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
“Yes. Yes.”
“You’ll be fine. Just do as I tell you, Kara. Give yourself over to me.”
She nodded once more, her shoulders going loose again, and followed him.
The spanking bench was like a wooden sawhorse, except that there were two levels to it, and it was covered in red leather. The top was one long, narrow, padded column with armrests on either side. The lower section was made up of narrow ledges on either side, which she knew were for her to rest her knees and elbows on. Here and there were eyebolts to fasten cuffs or rope to. Or chains.
She shivered.
“Climb on, beautiful girl. I’ll help you.”
Dante held on to her hand, his other hand at her waist. And even as a part of her couldn’t believe she was doing it, she mounted the bench, laying her body down on the top level and steadying herself with her elbows on the armrests before bringing her knees up to the lower ledges.
She realized instantly that in this position her naked ass was raised up. Her mound was pressed against the soft leather. And immediately she had the urge to press harder into it, to ease the ache there. But she sensed she shouldn’t do anything unless Dante told her to. She wanted only to do what he told her.
Dante leaned over her. “Since this is your first time, I’m not going to bind you. But you are not to move unless I tell you to. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I understand, Dante.”
His hands were on her back then, sweeping over her bare skin: her shoulders, down her spine to that sensitive spot at the small of her back. She closed her eyes. She was acutely aware of every touch, of the rhythm he was using as his palms slipped over her, matching the beat of the music playing. It seemed to go on forever, just his hands on her body. And all the while her sex was going hotter and hotter, until she was soaking wet.
She wanted him to spank her. Wanted to ask for it. But she remained quiet. Reveled in the hot, shimmering desire thrumming through her system, lighting up every nerve ending.
One of Dante’s hands moved lower, over her buttocks and the backs of her thighs. The other stayed on her lower back, holding her down with that gentle, commanding pressure she loved. She had some strange sense of him touching her everywhere at once. Except where she most needed it.
It grew harder and harder to hold still, her sex throbbing.
Needing
. Her nipples were stiff against the sleek leather surface of the bench. And just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, she felt the first feathering touch of his fingertips slipping between her folds.
Needing
. Her nipples were stiff against the sleek leather surface of the bench. And just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, she felt the first feathering touch of his fingertips slipping between her folds.
“Oh . . .” she moaned, surging back.
“No, Kara. Hold still.”
She bit her lip, forced her body to quiet. Held her breath as his fingers moved, slipping in her wetness, up and down the length of her cleft.
Pleasure was liquid, long serpentine strands weaving through her limbs, her muscle, her skin. When he pierced her with his fingers, she gasped. And when he plunged deeper inside her, she groaned, her eyes flying open.
Across from her was a man. Young, with a pretty face. An amazing body. He wore nothing but a pair of dark jeans and a leather collar. When she realized what was happening, that this beautiful man was watching what Dante was doing to her, her sex flooded, heat and wet, need and an intensity she’d never experienced before.
She held his gaze. And as a slow smile slid across his face, Dante’s hand came down in a sharp smack across her ass.
“Oh!”
Dante’s palm smoothed over the burning skin, soothing her. He spanked her again, then another sweet stroke of his hand, and another. The dual sensations made each more acute. Her fingers gripped the padded armrests. The young man’s sharp gaze on hers was nearly overwhelming.
Dante pushed his fingers deeper into her.
“Christ, you are soaked, my girl,” he said. “And you love him watching you, don’t you? You love to be spanked. To be this vulnerable. I love it, too. Seeing you like this. Having an audience. Sharing with others how beautiful you are in your submission. In your desire.”
She shivered at his words, at the pleasure in his tone.
He smacked her again, over and over, creating a sharp, fast pace. He kept his fingers pumping inside her. And she was overcome by desire and pain, all at once. Sensation melded together until it was one thing:
need
. Pure. Primal.
need
. Pure. Primal.
Pleasure built, pleasure upon pain. Her head, her body, were soaring. The hot smacking of Dante’s hand blended with his thrusting fingers. Her sex swelled, and she pressed her mound into the leather bench; she couldn’t help herself. Pressed until there was just enough pressure on her clitoris. She came, shattering, crying out. He kept at it, the spanking, his fingers driving deep. Her pussy was a clenching glove, needing more, more. And the beautiful young man kept his steady gaze on hers, driving her climax on in some inexplicable way.
“God, Dante!”
She couldn’t stop coming. She was trembling, the aftershocks of orgasm seeming to last forever.
Finally, her body began to calm. The stranger gave her one last smile and walked away. She felt Dante’s hands in her hair, caressing her cheeks, her lips. He was kneeling in front of her, tilting her face up to meet his eyes. They were gleaming golden in the dim light.
“That was excellent,” he told her, his low tone laced with desire. “That was perfect, Kara. Beautiful girl.”
He kissed her. And those soft lips on hers, the taste of him, the knowledge that it was Dante, made the desire rise in her once more.
“My girl,” he murmured against her mouth.
His.
Yes
.
.
He kissed her again, harder this time. His lips a firm press against hers, his tongue invading, driving into her mouth in the same way his fingers had driven into her body only moments before. She was so loose all over, her skin burning where he had spanked her, like some lovely reminder of what he’d done. How he had
made
her his.
made
her his.
He pulled back.
“Come on, let’s get you down from there.”
He moved around behind her once more, and she waited for him. He gripped her waist and pulled her up, until she was straddling the bench on her knees. His hands slipped around to cup her breasts, and she sighed, arching into his touch. His body was warm behind her, his palms on her full flesh scorching her. Her nipples were so hard they hurt. He pulled at them, twisting, tugging. Not too hard, just hard enough to send shards of new sensation stabbing into her body. Making her aware of how soaking wet she was, the air cool between her spread thighs.
“You love having an audience, don’t you, Kara? No one is watching you specifically right now, but can you feel it? The energy in the air? Their presence?”
“Yes,” she breathed. It was true. Simply knowing they weren’t alone was a thrill in itself. Not as much as it had been when the stranger watched her come, though. Oh no. That had been the most intense experience of her life.
She wanted to do it again. But she also wanted to be alone with Dante. Needed some kind of reassurance from him. She didn’t understand it.
Instantly, she was shivering, shaking.
“Dante . . . ?”
“Yes, I feel it. I’ve got you, baby.”
He pulled her from the bench and into his arms, sat down with her on his lap in the big velvet chair. He pulled a blanket around her shoulders, made her drink some water from a bottle he held to her lips.
“Dante, did I . . .”
He rubbed her arms through the blanket. “Shh, yes. You pleased me very much. You were wonderful. Perfect.”
How did he know this was exactly what she needed so desperately to hear?
“Dante, I don’t feel like . . . myself.”
“No, of course not. It’s normal. You’re bottoming out a little. You’ll be fine. I’ll take care of you.”
When had anyone else ever said that to her? When had anyone said that and meant it? Tears stung her eyes.
Love him . . .
No. That was just the experience talking. The lightness in her head. The bottoming out.
Why, then, did her entire body surge with the rightness of the idea? Why did she have to bite her lip to keep from telling him?
Oh God, she couldn’t tell him. Not
him
.
him
.
Not
her
.
her
.
She swallowed the tears. Promised herself she would deal with this—look at it—later, when her head was screwed on straight again.
“Kara, you’re too tense. Let’s do some breathing, try to get you to relax again.”
“I can’t.”
He held her tighter, until she could feel the strong, steady beat of his heart against her rib cage. “You can. Just follow me. Inhale, a nice, deep breath.”
With some effort she did as he said. Eventually her racing pulse calmed; her mind stopped spinning. The breathing helped. But what helped more than anything was his solid frame so close to hers. His arms around her. His scent all around her, that dark, elemental
male
.
male
.
He ran a hand down her spine, his fingers brushing, stroking. When he got to the small of her back, he made lazy circles on her skin. And just as it had before, his touch began to light her body up with desire.
How could she feel this now, right after what had amounted to a small meltdown? She was so confused. But it was so much easier to simply give in. To his touch. To the pleasure flooding her body once more. To Dante.
He whispered to her, “I need to get you home. To fuck you in my bed. Come on, my beautiful girl.”
Another small rush of heat went through her.
Yes, in his bed. His arms
.
.
She wanted whatever he wanted of her. Even more strongly than she had before, when he had her on the spanking bench. She wanted—needed—to be as close to him as possible.
He stood her on her feet and dressed her. Carefully. Gently. And she had once more that sense of being cherished by him.
She knew in the back of her mind that it was all about the dynamics of the power play. His role as a dominant. But she would take what she could get for now. Would hang on to it later, when he’d finished with her, as he inevitably would. She knew in her heart that nothing this good could possibly last.
Dante’s head was spinning as they rode in a cab over the wet streets, back to his place.
Having Kara at the club was almost too much for him. He was vaguely ashamed. He’d come too close to losing control with her. To turning her over on that spanking bench and fucking her right there.
She’d been incredibly turned on by that male sub watching them. Hell, so had he. Not that he was into the boys. But he loved the exhibitionism. Was so damn proud of Kara’s beauty, her responsiveness.
He’d grown so hard he could barely stand it. It had taken everything he’d had not to press up against her gorgeously pinking ass, to pull himself from his slacks and thrust right into her. But he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do that. Not her first time at the club. And something had shifted when she’d started to bottom out. Even when she’d still been straddling the bench and he’d had the erection of his life, pressing against the small of her back. He’d become almost unbearably protective of her. And along with it had come a need to have her all to himself. It was a sense of ownership and a desire he could barely control, each element making the other spiral, soar.
Mine
.
.
He groaned. He was still hard as a rock, his cock aching. And her beautiful body pressed close into his side, still loose from her climax, still deep in subspace. It was too good. They couldn’t get back to his place fast enough.
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