In His Cuffs(7)

David sat her up and drew her against his chest. Her limbs felt numb, so  when he placed her head against his shoulder, she didn't protest.

He stroked her hair and said words that sounded nonsensical.

She heard the steady thud of his heart, and it gave her comfort.

"I'm going to take off the clamps," he told her. "Hopefully your nipples are sore enough that my touching them later will hurt."

He cupped her right breast tightly and parted the rubber-tipped clamp.  He pinched her nipple and squeezed it several times, allowing  circulation to return by measures.

"Ah …  Thank you, Mr Tomlinson." Often her Doms released the clamps and allowed blood to rush back in painfully.

He repeated the process with the other side.

By the time he finished, she was holding herself away from him a bit.

"How was your spanking?"

She gazed into his eyes. This was somehow more intimate than having her pussy exposed to him. She inhaled his scent.

His chest was more than broad, it was inviting. The HM band emphasised  the ripple of his biceps. If she were the type of woman to lean on a  man, she'd be tempted to rest against him again.

As he had earlier, he pushed hair back from her face. His eyebrows were  furrowed. She fought an insane urge to smooth his forehead. Instead she  clasped her hands together. "Fine, Mr Tomlinson," she said.

"Fine?"

Remembering he'd mentioned protocols earlier, she added, "Thank you for your attention."

"You wouldn't be punished for that omission since I hadn't instructed  you beforehand. Rules must be understood ahead of time. Still, good  manners are always appropriate behaviour. Continue about the spanking."

"I haven't experienced anything quite like it."

"In what way?"

"I've never had a punishment, only a scene."

"I told you I've imagined having you over my knee. And it wasn't erotic and meant to get you off, but it was far from punitive."

"Mr Tomlinson?"

"We don't have a permanent relationship. Therefore, I am not in the  position to mete our actual punishment. This spanking wasn't delivered  with the idea of correcting persistent or offensive behaviour. Well,  maybe the offensive behaviour." His quick smile took any sting from his  words. "If I had punished you, you would have known it. There would have  been no pleasure in it at all."

"So … "

"It was more of a test, than anything."

She frowned.

"I wanted to gauge your reactions, see what you disliked, what you  liked, notice how your skin responded, where you're most sensitive, what  made you wince or cry out or sigh." He threaded his fingers into her  hair and pulled back her head.

"Did I pass the test?" she asked.                       
       
           



       

"Princess, you could not have failed."

Again, words that took her off guard. Was he simply a very considerate  Dom? Or a man deeper than she'd believed possible from what she knew  about him?

Another thought followed that. He'd said he was learning about her, but  she'd discovered a number of things about him, too. He paid attention to  her. He hadn't taken her too far, and he had given her enough that she  wasn't rolling her eyes or pretending it was hard enough so that she  didn't damage his fragile ego.

"And when you're ready, I want to tie you to the table and torment you."

"Is there an orgasm involved in that?"

"I wouldn't dream of sending you home unsatisfied."

"How about two?" she asked. "Or am I pushing it, Mr Tomlinson?"

"Greedy sub."

"I prefer the word needy," she corrected.

He inclined his head towards the apparatus that came complete with extensions for her limbs. "Shall we find out just how needy?"

Restlessness filled her. The spanking had left her wanting more, emotionally as well as physically. "Yes, please."

He tugged her hair a little harder. "In that case, lie on your back with  your head in the cradle." Without another word, he slid her from his  lap.





Chapter Three





Damn. This woman, this sub, delighted him.

David watched Maggie's every move, much as he had for the last few  months. Ever since he'd first been introduced to her, he'd been partial  to her curves and the elegant way she carried herself. The pencil skirts  she favoured during business hours were professional, but the way they  hugged her full ass inspired some thoughts that were not appropriate in a  work environment.

At the office, she kept her black hair pulled back, wore minimal makeup and her shirts were never revealing.

When he'd seen her there tonight, sipping her drink, her hair spilling  invitingly over her shoulders, dressed in a short skirt, tight top,  platform shoes instead of pumps and topped off with a sparkly collar,  he'd looked twice. At first glance, he hadn't been able to believe she  was the same woman who challenged him on a daily basis. She'd looked  soft and approachable, so different from the woman who'd once entered  his office without knocking, slamming the door behind her, making the  solid wood jump in its casing.

She'd stalked over on her sensible,  I-mean-business-and-won't-be-intimidated-by-you pumps, had planted her  hands on top of his polished desk then leaned towards him and threatened  to quit if he downsized and released a certain employee.

For five minutes, she'd presented a logical-if heated-case for keeping the overhead so high.

Her passion had captivated him. Her employment contract was ironclad.  Her mother would lose out on a significant amount of money if Maggie  walked away. That meant she had a lot to lose. So if she were willing to  put that on the line for a co-worker, he'd listen.

She'd convinced him. To her credit, she had not gloated.

From that confrontation, amongst others, he'd taken her for a  strait-laced, if not uptight, woman who might be sexually repressed.  That hadn't stopped him from imagining her luscious ass upturned over  his lap as he spanked her. On many occasions, he'd jacked off in the  shower with that picture in his mind, particularly after she had annoyed  the hell out of him at work.

Reality surpassed fantasy.

Maggie Carpenter was as intriguing as she was responsive. She had told  him earlier that she would encourage him to move faster, but he doubted  she would need to. When he'd hit her hard, she'd made mewing sounds and  had kicked her legs. It seemed he hadn't got her close to tears, but the  blows had definitely been hard enough to secure her attention.

After keeping her waiting in silence for two full minutes, he stood. The  chair legs scraped the floor. She didn't try to see what he was doing,  but he saw her belly move as she took a breath. "No doubt you've had  some formal training," he said as he walked around her.

She followed him with her gaze. "I've had a little bit, Mr Tomlinson. I  took some classes at a club in Denver. And I've had relationships that  had a few BDSM elements."

He was discovering more and more layers to Maggie. Their remaining time  together wouldn't be nearly enough to uncover them all. "Extend your  arms."

Unhesitatingly, she did so. He adjusted the table so that her arms were  at a gentle stretch, nothing terribly uncomfortable, but not too much  give, either. She'd be helpless in her bondage.

"Now your legs," he told her. He tied her ankles then strapped down her  thighs. Next, he moved apart the table's legs, so that her pussy was  wide open and available. "Too bad I can't keep you like this at the  office."                       
       
           



       

"In your dreams, Mr Tomlinson."

"Yours as well, Ms Carpenter."

She shivered a little. Oh, yes. Doubtless his defiant employee would  remember this. Perhaps she'd walk into his office on Monday morning and  picture herself over his desk. Or maybe battle a compulsion to strip and  kneel for him? It was impossible, he knew, but he couldn't banish the  thought. "Are you comfortable enough?"

"It's a bit of a stretch, but nothing that is causing muscle cramps."

"You can squirm without injuring anything?"

"It shouldn't be a problem."

"Shall we find out?" He touched her clit.

She tightened her buttocks and pulled back a little.

"How was that? And I'm not talking about your cunt. I'm asking if you experienced any discomfort in your thighs or arms."

"I'm fine, Sir."

He was going to enjoy this experience immensely. Bringing off the woman  who constantly confronted him would be a great pleasure, better, he  imagined, than spanking her had been. Listening to her cries as she  called his name and begged for his touch would be intoxicating. "I'm  planning to flog you, Maggie," he said.

"Thank you, Mr Tomlinson."