Read His Little Tart Online

Authors: Sindra van Yssel

Tags: #Romance, #erotic romance; BDSM; contemporary; m/f, #BDSM Contemporary

His Little Tart (6 page)

BOOK: His Little Tart
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He spread something between her breasts, more icing from a cupcake perhaps, and licked. She leaned back her head and sighed. It felt beautiful. Only one thing would feel better, and she was trying not to think about sex.

And failing.

 

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He slid his hands beneath her skirt and up her thighs, and she could think of nothing else. Maybe he’d lose control, forget his promise. Maybe he’d pull her skirt up and her panties down and fuck her hard and fast. She was handcuffed; she couldn’t resist and didn’t want to. She wanted him.

His reach went almost to her pussy. So close. Then he pulled back and kissed her, his mouth sweet with the tastes of cupcake and icing. She swirled her tongue against his eagerly, tasting, smelling his male scent mixed with her sweet. He moved away and slid his hands forward again. She willed him to push his fingers inside, but when he seemed about to touch her most intimately, he scraped his fingernails lightly down her thighs again, driving her crazy.

“Please.”

“Please what?”

She couldn’t say it. “Please do whatever you want.”

“You’ve been very good.”

“Do I get a reward?”

“You do.”

His hands left her, and a moment later she was sucking chocolate off his finger again. She wished it was his cock. That wasn’t cruel like ice cream. The chocolate was delicious, but it wasn’t what she wanted. “Please.”

“Please what?”

Fuck me.
It was on her lips when she heard a woman’s voice.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bump you, Sir.”

“No problem,” said Aidan.

She’d forgotten where she was for a moment, forgotten all about the crowded room. It all came back to her. She heard the swish of a flogger, smelled paraffin from a candle somewhere. Voices that had been in the background now formed words, even

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though those words were quickly forgotten. Her pussy still ached for his touch, but she couldn’t say it. Not in a crowded room.

“You know, Master Aidan. I’m all yours.”

“In that case.” He kissed her, long and deep. She responded hungrily, wanting to feel his tongue snake all the way down to her pussy, wanting the kiss to satisfy her need.
I can’t beg. I can’t.

She tried to block out all the other sounds, everything that wasn’t him or her, hoping she could work up the courage to ask him for what she wanted. It took her a second to realize that the beeping she heard wasn’t part of someone else’s scene. His watch. The hour.

He pulled away.

“We can go longer,” she said.

“I’d love to. But I promised you I wouldn’t.”

“Please?”

He kissed her lightly. “No, Constance. I’m sure you had your reasons, and I have to respect them.” She felt his hand covering her eyes. “Blindfold coming off, but I’ll let the light in slowly.”

“Maybe we can go to your room? You have a room here, right?” The whole safety-of-being-in-public part seemed unnecessary now. He’d kept to the letter of everything they’d said. She trusted him.

“I do. But I promised you I’d stop at an hour. It kinda flew, didn’t it?”

That was an understatement. “I’d show you a good time,” she wheedled.

Hopefully he understood that meant sex. Then she felt annoyed at herself for not being able to say it. She ought to be able to. “Meaning, we can fuck,” she said. There was something deliciously naughty about using the word. Not that she never swore when something went wrong in the kitchen, but she’d never said it to mean sex. She was more a “making love” kind of girl.

 

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The room’s light came in through his fingers, and she blinked. He took his hand away and pulled her bra straps back into place on her shoulders. “I promised, Constance. That’s it. End of discussion.”

She wanted to punch his big solid chest in frustration, but her hands were still bound behind the chair. He reached back to unfasten them, and the urge passed.

Mostly.

“You won’t? Really?”

Aidan shook his head.

She got up. She had some vague notion of running to the women’s room and relieving the frustration she felt in one of the stalls. She’d never been so horny in her life.
Maybe he isn’t turned on by me.
The thought cooled her ardor some. She’d been so aroused herself, the idea that he wasn’t hadn’t occurred to her. Men were always ready.

She looked down, and it was clear that he was no exception; the zipper of his pants covered a hard ridge. He was turned on, and he was big.

Then the world swam. She’d gotten up too fast. She sat back down and took a breath.

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Easy, girl. Let me get you some water.” But instead of leaving her side, he turned and looked around. Alex Allison was not far off, watching. Aidan made a drinking motion, and Alex nodded and quickly walked to where a case of bottled water lay ripped open. Within a few moments, she had a bottle in her hands and was sipping from it.

Even after that, she was still horny. But he was clear. They were done.

“I need to get home,” she said.

He nodded. “I’ll carry your fondue pot.”

 

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Chapter Three

He never should have promised he’d hold to the hour. He’d tried to read her, and he almost had it right. She wanted him. She wanted the pleasure that he could provide.

But he couldn’t get her to admit it.

And now she was about to climb into her car and drive out of his life forever. So used to understanding exactly what a sub wanted, he had no idea what was going through her mind. Was she angry at him? There might be some of that. Mostly she seemed lost in her own mind. She had to process what had happened, and he needed to give her space to do it. But not too much space.

“I’ll be here tomorrow, if you’d like to come again.”

“Coming once would have been nice,” she snapped.

He chuckled. “Bad choice of words.”

She laughed. “Horrible,” she agreed. But the tension had broken. Her laughter was one of the best sounds he’d ever heard, full throated and joyful. When he first met her, he would have expected her to have a tinny giggle. For all her inexperience, though, she wasn’t a mouse. “I’ll think about it,” she said. “Don’t hold your breath. Go ahead and, uh, get involved.”

He nodded. Was it his imagination or his ego that made him think she’d been reluctant to add that last part? Her reluctance didn’t necessarily mean she was feeling jealous. She might want to keep her options open.

“I’m very busy,” she said. He suspected she was trying to let him down easy. That was usually his job. “But thank you for the interesting experience. I have to admit, it was nothing like I was expecting.” She surprised him by hugging him. He held her close. She felt warm and soft, even in her stiffly starched uniform. Then she gave him a

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slight smile, pulled away, and slipped into her car. He waited until her legs were inside and shut the door. He watched her fiddle with her phone before setting it back in her purse. She didn’t look at him again as she backed over the grass that served as the parking lot. He walked toward Bondage Ranch. The day was young. He could find someone else to play with for the evening, probably. He wasn’t entirely sure why he didn’t feel like doing exactly that.

On Sunday evening, when it was all over, he had a flight to catch. Nonstop to London, where he had a chance to invest in an online publishing start-up, if the business plan looked solid. Then he’d go to Holland to visit his grandmother, who had raised him after his parents split up when he was small. Pushing ninety, her mind was still razor sharp, and she prided herself on her self-sufficiency, but she always had a few little repair jobs saved for him. After that, if everything worked out, Singapore for another business opportunity, and then possibly Tokyo. He’d stay at the finest hotels—with the exception of his grandmother’s house—and eat at the finest restaurants, not that they could beat Oma’s home cooking.

He stopped at the front door and decided he wasn’t in the mood for company.

Alex would want to quiz him about Constance, and he didn’t have the answers to her questions. He walked around the house, intending to take a stroll in the woods.

He passed the stocks, where Mistress Sue had a new guy he didn’t recognize trapped and manacled. On the swings, Arthur was fucking Samantha, both of them totally absorbed in each other. Hadn’t they been doing a waxing session a couple of hours ago? And here they were, going at it again. Apparently married life wasn’t so bad.

A big man he didn’t know was setting up sound equipment on the wooden stage.

He’d missed the morning demonstration on caning, which he wasn’t especially interested in, but maybe he’d watch the afternoon’s, when Bruce gave a how-to on kinbaku
, the art of Japanese erotic rope bondage. Bruce definitely knew his ropes. For

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simple restraint, Aidan preferred the practicality and ease of modern cloth and Velcro cuffs, but he was interested in learning about some of the fancier applications of rope.

It was a nice evening, and the weather promised to be decent all weekend. He wondered how many couples were playing in the woods or at the pony track. He set out down the path into the woods. Constance wasn’t the only one who needed some processing time. The thought of how her smooth thighs felt under his fingers and the way her nipple tasted when he sucked on it made him hard again. Maybe he’d get over her faster if he went to his room and jerked off some of the tension. But instead he was going to enjoy the fresh mountain air and do his best to ignore his raging hard-on.

He made a point of appreciating the reds, oranges, and yellows of the early fall foliage, mixed with the greens of leaves that hadn’t turned yet. He tried to savor the crunch of twigs underneath his feet, the freshness of the mountain air in his lungs.

He’d wanted to get her panties off, to plunge his fingers into her soft wetness and make her come. It annoyed him he still had no idea what her face looked like in the moment of ecstasy or how tight her pussy squeezed in her climax. She’d been so close to asking. He’d thought she would. She obviously wanted to. But she was prouder than that. A sub like Brenda would have played coy, knowing all along she’d act out surrender in the end, but for Constance, admitting she wanted a more intimate touch wouldn’t have been acting or calculation. It would have been a real surrender.

He snorted. So much for walking in the woods clearing his mind. It seemed to be stuck on a certain little pastry chef.

He heard a low moan off to the side. There was a clearing there with a tree with smooth bark and a couple of branches that were perfect for tying arms to. A pretty young lady had showed him the spot the first time he’d come to Bondage Ranch. He’d been back to Bondage Ranch every chance he got since, despite the fact that Amsterdam and London had their share of BDSM clubs he could go to. He enjoyed the chance to play outdoors, but he also appreciated the variety of people he met. Most of them knew each other from one of the local scenes—Bondage Ranch was not too far from

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Philadelphia, Baltimore, or Washington—and Aidan suspected he’d never fully fit in, but in a way, that was all to the best. He could keep his relationships short and satisfying, and whenever he happened to be on the East Coast, he could visit a BDSM or fetish club and expect to know a person or two.

That was what he wanted, wasn’t it?

As busy as he was with work, he didn’t have time for any more than that. There was always a new investment possibility and a new place to travel to.

He swatted at the back of his neck. He had been so preoccupied with Constance he’d forgotten that nice weather at Bondage Ranch tended to mean mosquitoes. There was bug spray at the door from the ballroom to the outside, and people usually slathered it on before going out to play. Well, at least he didn’t have a lot of skin showing. He kept going, trying to figure out why he was letting one inexperienced submissive throw off an entire weekend of play. Perhaps he’d feel like a scene later on.

Maybe one of the demos would strike some spark. It was often easy to find a willing partner afterward.

Constance drove down the twisted highway with both windows open. If she had a convertible, the top would be down. It was a perfect day, cool enough that the wind bit, but she liked the way it made her feel alive. She’d normally spend the day experimenting in the kitchen, but today was too good to miss. So she’d decided to go for a drive, and after a few miles, she realized she was headed toward Bondage Ranch.

She hadn’t taken a day off for over a month. And if she was going to take any day off, what better than a sunny, not-too-hot not-too-cold day with a light breeze. The place to be on a day like today was on the beach or in the mountains, and the good beaches were a three-hour drive. Bondage Ranch, however, was nicely nestled in the mountains.

She’d had wild fantasies the night before. It started with Aidan, naturally, and him finishing what he’d started the day before. Stripping off her panties and fucking her

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hard. She’d gone to get her vibrator and had been vaguely frustrated because she wanted both hands behind her back, and the vibe kept slipping out without a hand to hold it in place. But she’d gotten herself off quite quickly anyway, put the vibe aside to be cleaned in the morning, and drifted off to sleep, thinking that would be the end of it.

BOOK: His Little Tart
7.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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