Red Hot Obsessions (204 page)

My closed eyes flashed open and I smiled.

“Though it was
my
mouth, you didn’t know it, so I am still unhappy that you came in some random mouth, but you
almost
saying my name makes up the difference by miles. That was the sexiest thing
I’ve
ever heard. While an unknown guy was munching on you, you were craving me, picturing me, my touch, my mouth instead. There’s no better devotion than that. I was thrilled that you were immediately upset and aware of what you’d done. I had cast you off, repeatedly, and yet, by your evident heartbreak, I could see you’d claimed me as yours regardless. I did say you were
mine,
so I can see why your devotion would hold strong, but I thought you’d eventually drop it. I could see with your notes and all that that it wasn’t going to happen so easily. And now, here we are with me going against my better judgment because you are so damn irresistible.”

Okay, I still didn’t know where we stood. What was
his
? What did that mean to
him
exactly? The same thing I wanted? I scrunched my lips.

“None of the four people in that room saw your pussy writhing and pulsing and losing juice. I wouldn’t let them. Your treasure is mine. I don’t hate you. Once I punish, it’s settled, and you get a do-over, all is forgiven. You can always try again.”

I cried in joy and hugged him, so delighted that it had been him and not his friend. Plus, now that I knew that it was
his
skill that put me over the edge like that, that knowledge made me crave to be eaten out like that again, which was much more savagely than his taste of me in the woods or the one lick when I was bent over his couch.

He jerked the shirt collar away from my neck and brought his tender lips to my porcelain offering. His sweet kisses left dots of moisture along my collar bone and up to my ear. He pressed a button on the wall over my head and the blinds closed, shutting out sunlight. It felt so amazing to be lying in the dark with Logan, in the glow of only firelight, as he caressed my arms and thoroughly spanked bottom. “Um, I should probably mention that Halloween wasn’t the first time I’d set eyes you nor the first time you’d fucked my mind over.”

“It wasn’t?”

He continued to stroke me all over. “No. During rush I saw you practicing a skit with other girls on the lawn outside the Quad. You were so upset because they weren’t taking it as seriously as you. They were laughing and joking around and you wanted to get back to business. You were shouting at another girl about your part–a talking kitten. You even had headband ears and a tail on, so freaking cute. After bellowing, “You’re supposed to ad lib here. Would you fucking give me some commands,” to which she just shrugged and let out a nervous giggle, you stormed off crying in frustration, flailing your arms, kicking the dirt.”

“Yeah, I remember that. I was livid.”

“It set me on fire, and I followed after you. I wanted to grab your neck, shove you face-first into the ground, kneel over you and growl, “I’ll give you some fucking commands, little cat,” right in your ear. It terrified me, that urge, how badly I wanted to do it. I could picture myself doing it and hear your gasp and moan of pleasure, that first breath binding us to unspoken truth about one another. I itched and ached, it was so overwhelming. I had to literally force myself to turn around and walk away and I had beat down my craving to run back.

“When I got home, I pummeled the hell out of a punching bag to release my frustration. I’d never felt anything like that, not even with my online subs. The rush, the heat, the madness, the throbbing balls, the ferocity. I didn’t know you’d landed Delta Gamma though. I don’t really care to know the crap going on in that House of Horrors. I haven’t really been focused on girls here, to be honest, because relationships have me constantly wrestling myself and subduing the dark corners in my soul. I just want to plow through and stay focused on my studies. I pushed you out of my head and wrote you off. Whenever you came my way, I hightailed it in the opposite direction, denying myself the pleasure of discovering anything more delicious about you. I didn’t know you were
the
girl Geoffrey caught when my father buzzed me. And when I came down and saw
you
on the couch, that pissed off kitten, my god, I thought I’d died and landed in the gulf between heaven and hell, with no clue of my ultimate destination. I
knew
I had to be right about you. Yeah, I
was
, bad girl. When I looked into your eyes, I knew. I just didn’t know how much control you’d be willing to give me, how much yielding you’d do, how much you’d love being over my lap for my slaps. All of it was mesmerizing and fueling. You were an immediate prize, a dream come true. Naughty and compliant and oh, so wet. And now, you’re in my bed and in my arms. Un-freaking-believable.”

“Mmm, Logan.” Heaviness tugged at my lids.

He planted kisses on each one when they closed.

“Thank you for telling me that. I would’ve loved for you to shove me into the ground like that. The thought of that makes me so hot.”

“I know. You’re so bad. And since naughty girls can’t sleep, I know you’ve been up most of the night.” When he reached my ear, he nibbled on the lobe. “Sleep, Babydoll.”

I have no idea how, but he knew me so well, better than anyone, better than I even knew myself. I mewed and snuggled up against his chest, listened to the rise and fall of his lungs and got in sync with his rhythm, blowing air in and out of my nostrils in matched time. He was a refuge of sexy muscles and heat. Mmmm. Best pillow ever! I felt safe and adored. I wanted to stay in his hold forever.
I want him to be mine. He has to be. Please, please.

“Get up!”

“Mmmm. What?” I shielded my eyes. Where was I? His place. His room. His bed. “Mmm. How long was I sleeping?”

Sunlight overwhelmed my eyes as it suddenly flooded the room through the ginormous windows.

“Two hours, which is plenty.” He stood at the side of the bed.

I shot out of bed, not making him ask twice.

He skimmed the borrowed shirt over my shoulders but not off them. His soft touch drifted down to my breasts. I closed my eyes, and he slapped my boob. “Look at
me
!”

I did, and he went back to his gift of delicacy. His palms stayed on my skin and moved horizontally as he moved from facing me to now standing behind. His fingers coasted up my back and journeyed all over my backside and torso. It was loveable, so soft and tender.

His arms slid to my front and snaked down my body, then embraced, pressing me tightly against his chest. He held me like that for several moments, then nudged my head to the side with his chin and ravished my neck and ear. “I hope you are well-rested, my sweet.”

“I am. Thank you.”

“Good. We need to have a talk.”

A talk? What kind of talk? Hopefully one that solidified him as my Dom. Him. Logan Thorndike. The man who knew exactly what I needed and craved. The man who relished the role of ordering me around. The man who considered my climax pure gold.

He will be mine. He will. I won’t settle for anything less.

SORORITY PLEDGE 3:
Playgirl in his Eyes

CHAPTER 1

Logan walked ahead of me over to his couch for our
talk
and turned to me when he reached it. “Come here. Sit down.”

I padded over there, stiffening with worry. Now that he was done punishing me, was he gonna shove me off again? I hoped not. I couldn’t bear it. I did not think or believe this was a one-timer, but I wasn’t 100% confident he’d be keeping me on like I wanted. Maybe all
he
wanted was to call me to his house at random whenever he felt like it for a little bit of kink. I wanted a relationship, a lifestyle. I now see that’s exactly what he meant by a box.

As much as I had a craving to submit and be spanked and reshaped, I needed to be cherished too and was terrified of the whole BDSM culture. I always saw Doms as either old, scrawny pervs or beasts well over 200 pounds and six feet with a mustache, leather whip collection and sadist mentality to burn nipples, fuck you in every fuckable hole until you’re ripped to shreds and puking, and beat you until you’re practically unconscious and looking like a panda-Barney hybrid rather than a pretty candy apple. That’s fine for some people, but that’s not what I wanted or needed. On top of extreme sadists, a lot of creepy abusers polluted the scene too. I didn’t want abuse or anything like that. Logan was different … he said my nipples looked like gumdrops. If he actually took me on as his fulltime sub, I knew he’d take care of me, not force me to hold his shit in my mouth or lay on a bed of spikes. I could not have formed a more perfect Dom in my wildest dreams. I never imagined such a man existed, one with a firm hand
and
a heart of gold. I don’t think they do. That’s why the Sir I picked when he first looked into my eyes, this man, Logan Thorndike, absolutely had to be mine.

He sat down, draping his arms along the back and arm of the couch and bending one leg up. Of course my eyes drifted to the package he’d opened up to me. That was a casual pose, not consternating, as bending forward while glaring and resting on his thighs would be. I assumed he was not going to go ugly on me or chuck me out on my duff, but prickles still belly-danced down my neck anyway.
Damn.
He was so hot, so boyishly, manly beautiful. I loved the way he straddled the line and swung casually into both camps. I dragged my eyes back up to his, with them wrestling me the whole way up his body, a body I hadn’t even seen free of clothes yet.

I sat on the other side of the couch, tucking my legs up under me like a pretzel, turned towards him with my hands in my lap, and waited for this conversation to begin.

“Would you like a drink or anything? Something to eat? Are you comfortable?” He scratched his face and muttered, “God, you look so sexy in my shirt.”

I scanned the row of unbuttoned buttons, shirttails pooled over my naked crotch, and traced the white, plastic dots with my finger. The sides of my breasts were peeking out. I imagined his mouth there,
his.
I recalled his teeth, his tongue, his glorious suck, and how it all made my belly swirl. He was the one who ate my chest so deliciously, not some hot-and-cold freak. Logan had. Heat in my index finger finally registered and told me I was touching myself, following the curve of the right one up and down. Ohmygod. How long was I doing that? Touching myself! Crap! I swallowed hard and shot my gaze back up at him, my face on fire. “Um, I’m sorry, what did you ask?”

He set his tongue between his teeth. “You will be doing more of that,” he said and cleared his throat. “Do you need anything before we begin? A drink? Food?”

My mind felt much emptier than my stomach. I wanted to get on with this ‘talk’. “No. I’m fine.”

“Good, then on to framework. We need to discuss that.”

“Framework,” I mouthed, the word, sweet as honey on my lips. My heart started pounding. I spat out, “So we
are
doing this then, actually doing this?”

Anger flashed in his eyes and he ground his jaw. He was not happy with my doubt, but what did he expect, me to just lay down and let him do whatever he wanted to me without stated ‘framework’, without even knowing what we were doing here? Okay, I probably would, but he doesn’t know that! He hadn’t given me solid clarification at this point. “I painted your bottom red,
again
, and you’re still wondering? Do you need another reminder of why you’re here?”

Hell, yes!

“I invited you, and you’re here. I’d think that would say to you, clearly, that we are doing this. Are you having second thoughts? Your sudden spark of snark has me confused. Are you not happy with this dynamic we seamlessly have, with this arrangement we will create?”

“No, of course I’m happy. But what is
this
to you exactly? I’ve been groveling and following you around like a homeless puppy for days. It’s just, with you, I can’t tell where we stand. The way you shoved me off so coldly and kept ignoring me and ignoring me? So, no, I really don’t know what the heck this is. Maybe you’re just itching for some kink every once in a while. How the hell do I know? What kind of arrangement? I need you to spell out what you want from me and what we are. I never, ever want to displease you like that again. It’s absolute
torture
to hurt so damn badly, to know I broke something beautiful with the damn ‘
box
’ I didn’t even know I supposedly needed and being left with no clue on how to put it back together or how to get you to look at me again.”

“Addison. What?” He put his arms and bent-up leg down and scootched closer, but was still a couple feet away. Too far away. He clutched my fingers. I was so aware of his thumb dancing Swan Lake across my digits. His eyes looked mistier and full of concern. “No. You didn’t break or ruin anything. I said it was
me
. I’ve tried so hard to deny what I want, but your eagerness to submit to me has been driving me absolutely insane, with your flirty notes and your damn short skirts. I can’t resist anymore. God knows I’ve tried, but I can’t stay away from you, keep my eyes off of you or get you out of my stinking head. I just don’t know if I’m comfortable being that kind of man all the time.” He licked his luscious bottom lip, uh, so sexy … that slow, slow stroke, that scintillating lick that knows the tightness of my ‘most hollow space’. “One who...” He stopped, with that filthy, dark chocolate word in leather left unspoken.

Amused at his pinked face, I smiled and in a sassy, brat voice said, “
Doooominates
, Logan? … Just say it.”

His eyes roared at me. Big mistake! He jerked down on my calves so hard, one was now behind his back and the other across his lap, and my pussy, my naked pussy, was mashed up against his thigh. His next moves were so fluid that in less than two seconds, my hands were trapped in his grip together over my head, all his weight pressed on me, and his hot lips and breath tickled my ear. “
I
will be the one giving the orders here.” He was hard, so hard in those pants, and that rigid bulge of his was deliciously right at my entrance and restrained by only a layer of black fabric. “Yes, one who dominates …
you …
Addison Montgomery.”

I smiled. It was beautiful coming from his mouth. That word from his lips zapped me up like a high-voltage shock and gave birth to fizzy flowers. I was suddenly reaching for breath and shaking with desire.

“Oh, you like that word, do you? And everything it means? That I, Logan Thorndike, will own you. That is lovely music to your ears ... the most scrumptious candy in the world.” His cock still pressed into me and lips still tickled my ear, but I totally liked that kind of tickle and the kind of ache he was forming above my pelvis. “But you know, don’t you? There’s no denying it any longer. You can see through me, just as I can, you. You know what I really ache for, what will get me off like nothing else, and what I
really
want to be. One who turns a woman into a pet.” He rose up a little to look into my eyes. “And into a one-man slut.” I was swooning, my eye lashes fluttering fast, and he beamed. His lips surrounded mine, and he bit me and tugged the bottom one as he pulled up again. “A sub.” He kissed me. “A doll.” Kissed me again but so deliciously rough. “A beautiful new construct.” His kiss came back to me and remained there, growing into something ravenous and raw.

I opened up to him, our tongues quickly meeting and wrangling in ecstasy. While pulling his over and over again deep into mine, I wrapped my legs around him tightly, pasting him to my body. I tugged at my hands so I could tear at all the muscular spots I could feel, but he wouldn’t let me go. I growled because he was free, free to be diving into my shirt,
his
shirt, seizing the breast I’d just absentmindedly caressed. He jumped from breast to breast with pinches and squeezing grabs, different from than touch he gave me just last night. I wanted him to maul them with bites and sucks that would have me marked as his territory for days, but his mouth was already occupied and content, devouring mine.

Just as our exhales hit a frantic, heated state that almost became unbearable, he let me go, yanked out of my hold and returned to his seat on the other side of the couch.

My lungs heaving, a groan of disappointment crawled out of my mouth on its knees. What a fucking beast!
My
beast. Or soon-to-be. I remained on my back as he grinned wide at his devilishness.

“Yes, that’s what I want. To
dominate
you.”

Uh, his deep voice saying that word made my stomach quiver and my pussy slick with dew.

“Now, where were we? Framework. Here is what I expect. If you agree to my terms, then you will be mine, subject to me, all of the time. Your classes and social activities will be respected, but I may test you in the middle of them by making you wear a toy for instance or go out without underwear or in hot boots. That pussy of yours will be mine. Mine to use, mine to please, mine to ignore. You will no longer be allowed to pleasure yourself either outside of my presence or without my permission, or watch or read porn or do anything to deliberately get yourself hot or wet, unless I’m there or I’ve said you could. I will control your climax, always, when you have them and how. Do not do any drugs or get drunk, I need to know that you’re sane and holding your faculties at all times. I don’t do crazy or trashed, at all. I love to eat your pussy, it is a pleasure for me, but ultimately, I will not be as concerned with whether or not you come from it. It is for
my
benefit, and if you get eaten, it will be because I desire to give it in the moment. You will always be respectful, Brazilian waxed or trimmed up, on time, panty-free—unless I specify—and above all, obedient. Have plenty of elastics on hand for your hair. If I don’t specify a style, it’s up to you how you wear it, but I will often have a preference for you to have it up or braided. I will also tell you what I expect you to be wearing on random days, and you will wear it as I state, down to the smallest detail. If I haven’t specified, you can wear whatever you wish. Whining and complaining and hesitating and not following through on what I ask or demand or any of those other stated rules will get you punished in any way I see fit, which could be abstaining from pleasuring you, withdrawing or withholding treats, holding you in a pose, spiking you up to scorching hot then leaving you unsatisfied, tying you up, making you run laps at the track, sticking you in the corner, humiliating you or giving you punishment spankings, not just on your ass, but anywhere I desire, with the exception of your neck, face or stomach.”

The words ‘punishment spanking’ sent chills down my spine, the good kind that whip around and slam into the cervix, only to blast off in a million different directions.

“Every Monday morning, you are to come here at 5 a.m. for a maintenance spanking and to receive the list of my expectations and demands for the week, and you will also get random texts of things I’d like you to do for me as well. We may play after or around your MS, so be ready for that. I saw in the Freshman Directory you live in Connecticut, so when out of town, don’t assume you’ll be getting off the hook. You
will
maintenance spank yourself, at my command, with various implements while it’s streamed to me on this big-ass TV right over here. Same time. 5 a.m. And you will do your punishment spankings the same way if you’ve been a bad girl.”

My walls squeezed, and I let out a sigh that longed to be a scream. I almost freaking came at the thought, at the picture of that! Me, on all fours on my bed with my pink, leather paddle, maybe even with the maid, Marcy, tinkering around in the hall, her wondering what the hell I’m doing and probably guessing correctly. Spanking myself was never fun, not really, but with him watching? Like that? Especially if I’ve been bad!
Ohmygod. Hell, yes!

“Maintenance spankings will be more erotic like the ones you crave, mostly by hand, but firm enough to set you on a path for a successful week, to encourage good behavior. Punishment spankings will be more severe, lengthy and eclectic.”

Eclectic. Mmm. Sounds fun. And painful.

“I may leave you with a few pretty welts on occasion, but I refuse to ever spank you, deliberately, beyond the state of red. Walking around with a black or purple-green ass is no condition I want my sub to be in.”

His sub. His sub. Aaaahhh.

“In the beginning, it will take some time for me to acquaint with your body, to know what you can handle, and you may get some bruises in the interim, but I have no desire to injure you or jeopardize your safety or good health at any time. We will mostly play a lot in sensual ways. I will usher you into scenes, both with surprising elements and ones we orchestrate together, and I will train you to be my submissive and to tap into the hidden assets of your body and psyche, which will involve a mix of pleasure and pain to get the best results out of you. I hope to share scenes with you at least once or twice a week that will last 1-4 hours, so we can expand our eroticism, experiment with sensation and live out our fantasies. My goal and intention is to encourage, discipline, shape and turn you into my ultimate pleasure.”

His ultimate pleasure. I smiled wide at that shiny, sparkling box.