The C Word (Just a Word Book 1) (15 page)

Standing at
the foot of the bed, I show him that there are a number of places around the
bed to secure the rings.

I feel cold
and gripped with anxiety at the reality of wearing the cuffs I have kept in
their box for so long.

He looks like
he’s going to say something, but instead, he pulls at my top and drags it off
me, nodding at my jeans. I comply and drop them and my boxers too. He circles
me, taking a good look and I startle when his finger runs across the mark
Richard left on me.

“What the hell?”

“It’s nothing,
I just—-”

“You just
needed a fix?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you
felt especially out of control recently?”

I nod.

“Me too,” he
replies. I can’t quite place his expression, but it’s a little bit like things
are all finally making sense.

Pulling back
the covers, he pushes me down on the bed and positions me in the centre.
Raising my arms over my head, he unlocks one of the rings. My heart skips when
he locks the ring, locking my cuffed wrist to the bed that was also custom
made. As he climbs off the bed and goes around to the other side, I look up at
my tethered wrist and test the feeling of restraint. Proper restraint.

He secures my
other wrist, so they are a little less than shoulder width apart above my head.
I can’t help but wriggle and test them. “Wait there,” he says abruptly.

“Ha bloody ha,”
I sneer.

He disappears
into the wardrobe again, returning with something in his hand. Producing a tie,
he smiles and positions it over my eyes, encouraging me to lift my head
slightly and tying it tightly behind my head.

Laying in
darkness, securely cuffed, hard as fuck, I listen carefully to his movements.
The mattress dips as he positions himself between my legs, but I never feel the
weight of him on top of me like I expect. Instead, I hear the familiar sound of
the cap on the lube snapping. He must have brought that back with the tie. I
draw in a breath, waiting, but nothing happens. I wonder if maybe he is
stroking himself, getting ready, but I’d hear the lube as his hand glides over
his shaft. It’s a mind game to him. My breathing is laboured as the
anticipation builds.

When a cool
drip of lube hits the head of my cock, I jump, gasping. It drips down my length
and while I focus on that sensation, I’m not prepared for his slick hand
wrapping around me. I let out a throaty moan. His hand starts to move, gripping
me just right. The feeling of him stroking my cock like this is phenomenal. The
only time I’m ever restrained, I’m either fucked, hard, or physically punished.
Never is all the focus placed on my pleasure and the significance of that is
not lost on me. I flex my hands, reminding myself that I’m properly restrained
and blindfolded. Richard liked me to see. He liked me to know where the pain
was coming from.

“OW!” I yelp
as his strong hand sharply squeezes my balls. The rings on the cuffs clank
against the bed as I jolt and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach pangs. “Fuck!”

“Don’t think
about him again. Do you hear me?”

“Sorry, I—” I
can hardly get the words out.

“Just leave
him out of this; I think he’s done enough damage.”

I close my
mouth. There’s nothing I can really say to that. He’s right, there’s no need to
think about him now. The atmosphere in the room is heavy with bad feeling. I
wish I could take it back. But then his hand is on me again and it all fades
away. He is so good at that. My back arches and my sighs are becoming moans.
Before long I feel that familiar tightening and choke on the words.

“T…I…I’m
close.” I rasp. He doesn’t let up though.

“Come,”
he orders, in my head.

Oh fuck, I
writhe beneath his hand and chase the sensation, the cuffs cut in as I pull
against them, the pleasure builds, I’m so close and then his hand pulls away.

“No!” I cry,
clenching my muscles and fighting to get that feeling back.

“I said you
could come,” he says innocently. I can hear the amusement in his voice.

Panting, I
try to listen to his movements again, but the sound of my blood pumping in my
ears is all I am able to focus on. Then his fingers lightly brush the head and
I suck in a sharp breath. The orgasm that was building has subsided, but it
hasn’t gone away and I’m building again quickly when he resumes long strokes
from root to tip.

“Thats it, Max.”
he encourages.
“Let go.”

I thrust up
to meet him and his hand withdraws.

“Ugh!” I huff,
less surprised, but still just as disappointed.

He doesn’t
wait this time, his hand is back around me, but even in the few seconds that he
stopped, the damage was done and I have to start the build agin, hoping this
time he will let me finish.

I have no
clue how much time passes or how many times he brings me to the edge and
refuses to let me fall, but my agitation is increasing. “Fuck!” I hiss, as he
stops short for what feels like the hundredth time. I yank at my restraints,
testing them out properly for the first time by using more force than I allow
myself in my everyday life. As frustrated as I am, it feels fantastic to not
have to pretend. My body jerks, still trying to find friction in the air, or
something, anything that will give me that final push. But T moves away and I
can’t tell what he is doing, until I feel him leaning back in. His warm breath
and his tongue on the underside of my shaft makes me curse, fuck that feels so
good. I need his mouth on me and I try to angle my hips to encourage him to let
me in, but he ignores me and continues to tease until I’m ready to beg.

“Begging sounds good.”
I hear the mirth in his tone.

Fuck my
thoughts. “I don’t beg.” I try to sound firm, but my voice catches as he allows
the head to slip between his lips.

He swirls his
tongue around and pulls away. “Shame,” he says, getting up.

“No, no. No!”
I yank at my cuffs trying to stop him withdrawing. “Come back. Don’t stop!” I
growl, not thinking of anything but my need to come. I barely notice how close
I’ve come, how little control I have right now to stop it if I needed to. Panic
rises up inside me, I try to pull my hands free from the cuffs, but they are
too tight, just like I wanted. What if I shift? What if he won’t stop?

“You didn’t
give me a safe word,” I choke, writhing in vain.

The weight
that presses into the mattress either side of my face tells me that he is
leaning over me. I gasp when his cock brushes mine and he rests himself down on
me, but it immediately settles my restless body. My chest rises and falls
rapidly against his and I fight for air when he bites my earlobe.

“You just
have to say stop. You’re safe with me Max,” he whispers.

Need burns
inside me, I need him. I need him to give me the release it feels like I’ve
been waiting a lifetime for. “Please.” The plea slips out in a whisper and I
curse myself for the weakness.

He grinds
himself against me and moans. “Good boy. Please what?”

“Please fuck
me.”

I can feel
his grin as he pushes up off me. He moves so fast. Before I know it, he is
knelt between my legs and I feel the head of him ready to surge forward, but he
waits. I plant my feet on the bed and try to ease him in, but he hooks his arms
under my legs and holds my thighs.

“Please!” I
roar, letting out all the frustration I feel. “Please, I need to come.”

“But you don’t
beg,” he gloats.

“I’m begging
you now. Please.” All the fight goes out of me, I consider asking him to stop
and that’s when he thrusts forward.

I cry out in
shock and relief, his thick cock filling me swiftly.

“Yes,” he
grunts as he pounds into me with hard strokes.

Having him
buried in me is indescribable; I fight back against my beast who reared up the
second he was inside me, while luxuriating in the most unbelievable sensation I
can imagine.

I must
control it before I lose the fight.

T is pulling
it out of me, I can feel it. A primal need, something I have never experienced
before. I put it down to my frustration. Fighting against it, I can also feel
the beast in T fighting him for freedom. I fear for a moment that he will grant
it, but he seems to bring it under control.

He is close,
I feel that to. I feel all of him as if I’m feeling myself.

He pulls me
closer to him to allow him deeper thrusts. My arms are pulled tight against
their bonds and the sense of liberty I feel suddenly hits home.

I could let
go.

If I can’t
fight it, T is here.

He’s got me.

“I have got
you,” he murmurs in soothing confirmation. “You’re safe.”

His hand
wraps around my cock and I arch up into it. “Fuck! Please.”

He grips
tight and strokes in time with his thrusts. I’m right there. “That’s it,” he
grunts. “Come.”

But as he
says it, he takes his hand away. My growl is so animal, it startles me. “T!”
The sound of metal on metal shows my struggle.

He laughs
breathlessly, but his hand grasps me again. This time with more vigour, he is
close, I can feel it and as I feel the tightening inside and wait for him to
torture me again, he whispers in my head,
“let
go.”

A primal
sound comes from deep inside me, he hasn’t stopped and I’m flying over the
edge. I feel him coming and feel his beast baying for control. But in this
moment, I feel it. The control I dream of. I come hard. There is nothing else,
only this feeling that I crave and pure blinding pleasure.

His lips on
mine startle me. I feel like I’ve been floating and I don’t know how long for.
He unlocks one cuff, then the other, bringing my arms down gently. Then he
takes off the blindfold and I adjust my eyes to the soft light as he soothes
the rapidly healing, reddened skin on my wrists and then pulls the covers over
us. His arms wrap around me and I hide my face in his chest and allow myself to
be held.

“Who is
Valentina?” he asks quietly after a long while.

I lift my
face so that I can see him, “she’s my best friend.” I smile thinking about what
she means to me. “I tell her everything.”

“Did you tell
her about me?”

“I tell her
everything, every day. She has known about you since I met you. Besides, you
know I told her, you were listening.”

“I didn’t
catch it all,” he smiles innocently. “So is that where you ran off to after you
freaked out in the bar?”

“I did not
freak out.” I huff.

He offers me
a pointed look.

“Oh come on,
you freaked out a little too, this is not normal and we still need to get to
the bottom of it.”

“Mmmmhmm. So
you ran off to tell your best friend what I did to you?”

“No actually,
I came home and called her. Valentina and I have never actually met.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, we
have an unusual relationship.”

“City Boy,
this does not surprise me. You seem to have a few unusual relationships as far
as I can see.”

I laugh and a
silence settles on us again. His hand drifts up and down my spine and my
breathing falls in line with his. I could fall asleep.

“So are you
going to do as he says?”

“Hmmm?” His
soft voice startles me out of my relaxed state.

“He doesn’t
want you to see me again.”

Oh! Richard. “I
thought we weren’t supposed to talk about him.”

“I want to
know.”

I already
know the answer to this. I see who I want to see. Like hell is Richard having
any say over that.

“Well?”

I try to seem
like I’m considering it. “I’d like to see you again,” I tell him softly.

He kisses the
top of my head in response, but that doesn’t tell me what I want to hear. “Is
that what you want?” I push.

He scoffs, “what
I want is for
you
not to see
him
again.”

Laughing a
little, I look up at him. He’s all annoyed and cute. “I don’t think that’s
really going to be possible, is it? He’s basically part of the family.”

“Oh, I don’t
mean don’t see him at all. See him all you like. I just don’t want you to fuck
him any more.”

Suddenly my
throat is dry and the tension is back in all its palpable glory. I look away; I
can’t look at him and tell him I can’t. “I…” I don’t know what to say that won’t
disappoint him. I need what Richard gives me.

“Submit to
me.”

I snap my
eyes back to his. “What?”

“I’ll help
you. I’ll give you this thing you think you need, just promise me you’ll never
let him touch you again.”

“Why?” I don’t
get it. We barely know each other, so why is it so important to him?