Anna Leigh Keaton & Madison Layle - Incognito 06 - Charming Carmen Page 8

  She’d been right on target when she mentioned his not giving in to others. He hadn’t really thought much of it until now. But he had always directed things through subtle signals to Katriona. Having her act as his mistress provided a barrier that protected him from getting too emotionally involved with those he fucked. No one had ever challenged him; he’d never had to use his safe word, because no Domme had pushed him to his limits, much less tried to go beyond them. The scenes he participated in with other club members were always just that—scenes, quick sex, and never anything that might lead to more. When a scene ended, he went back to Kat, and the other Domme or sub—whichever Kat paired with him—went on her way. No strings attached.

  So why did he find the thought of doing the same now disturbing?

  “Yes.”

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m ready.” She paused then added, “You asked if I was ready for more instruction.”

  “Of course.” Shit. He needed to keep focused. “For your next lesson, we’ll go over...uh...bondage techniques.”

  Chapter Eight

  “Ooookay,” she said with a look that said she wasn’t exactly as ready as her answer might imply.

  He gave her a smile before telling her to sit at the foot of the bed. When she did, he went to a nearby cabinet where he knew the Montgomerys kept various cuffs, belts, and other essentials for use with their own submissive mate. He gathered several different items including a blindfold, but he left the flogger in the drawer. He could teach Carmen many aspects of dominance and discipline, but there were some things she’d have to learn on her own. Although he’d felt the erotic sting of the lash before and understood the allure of sensations it could bring forth, he’d never wielded a flogger against another person, male or female, and he didn’t intend to do so now.

  After carrying the items he’d chosen back to the bed, he laid them out next to her. She looked over the items and, in typical Domme fashion, reached for one without permission. When he grabbed her wrist in a hard grip, she turned surprised eyes toward him.

  “The lesson has begun, Carmen,” he said, using her name on purpose. “As the sub in this scene, you have to ask for permission. You have no authority to act upon your own wishes without that permission.”

  Her mouth opened slightly, but then it closed, and she nodded. The motion, so much like a nod of permission from her, made him want to smile.

  “May I ask a question?”

  He released the smile then and answered, “Yes, you may.”

  “What should I call you?” she asked, then added, “during this scene, I mean.”

  “I’m not really a Dom, so Carl will do.” He grabbed a pair of wrist cuffs. “Stand up and turn around. Put your hands behind your back.”

  She was hesitant but obeyed, although she watched him over her shoulder.

  He fastened one cuff to her wrist and let his thumb graze the pulse point before attaching the other cuff. “Subs have hands to perform a service for their masters. If hands are idle, they should be behind the back to show respect. I’m binding your wrists so that you can see what it feels like for a sub to give up such freedom of mobility. If at any time you feel too uncomfortable with what I do, say...orange blossom.” He picked that because of the citric scent he suspected was from her shampoo.

  She snickered. “Orange blossom? Why can’t I just say stop or no? That would make it easier, don’t you think?”

  He took the liberty of running his hands up her arms. Then he leaned closer to nuzzle her neck. She leaned her head to the side, a silent invitation of which he took full advantage. He slowly, methodically, slipped his hands around her sides, and then he murmured, “Sensual play can evoke sudden reactions.”

  He tickled her ribs.

  Her response was instant. “No! Oh, God, please...” She panted as she giggled. “Stop. Oh! Ha ha hahahaha.” She squirmed but didn’t try to get away from him, which she could’ve accomplished, since he hadn’t bound her ankles. Her laughs grew louder as her wiggles became more frantic.

  He spun her around to see her eyes alight with laughter and a smile on her face. “Your eyes say something different than what your mouth spouts, Carmen.” He kissed her hard, and she leaned against him with a moan of encouragement. Then, without warning, he tickled her some more.

  She yelped and began giggling anew. She succumbed to his teasing play for at least another minute or so as he alternated between tickles and kisses, until finally, she said, “Orange blossom!”

  He stopped in an instant and stepped back enough to separate his body from hers, except for the hand he kept on her shoulder just to steady her while she caught her breath. With his other hand, he gently lifted her chin until she met his gaze.

  “You see? No, stop, quit, even help can be words uttered in the heat of the moment when a sub is caught off-guard or surprised. They are quick expressions that often require little thought. A safe word, however, is one that does require thought, so the master knows when it’s spoken, its meaning is clear.”

  “So a true master never crosses that line?”

  Carl paused, uncertain about how he should respond. He gripped her hips, pulled her into a loose embrace, and studied her upturned face.

  “A sub’s use of a safe word doesn’t reflect on a master’s expertise or lack thereof. BDSM by its nature is a test of a sub’s limits and a master’s ability to push those limits to achieve mutual gratification. A true master can take a sub on a journey of sexual exploration that tests the sub’s boundaries, and even those of the master. The safe word is the flag used to identify when such lines are crossed.”

  “And have you ever discovered your limits?”

  His breath froze in his chest, as did his expression, no doubt. The urge to lie pounded with each beat of his heart, and he swore that organ would soon explode from his chest.

  “I didn’t give you permission to ask personal questions...Carmen,” he answered, unwilling to admit to such vulnerability. The truth was he’d never faced anyone he thought capable of forcing him to such limits...until now. But right now wasn’t the time to admit such things, at least not to her. So, to distract her, he ordered, “Don’t forget to use my name like a title, either. That’s your last warning.”

  He tugged on her shorts until they slid over her hips and dropped to the floor. She stood as still as a marble Venus while he lifted her T-shirt over a chest that could make a man’s mouth water. Hell, he had to strain against the desire to suckle her breast. He pulled the shirt over her head but, with her arms bound behind her, he left the shirt gathered high on her arms to act as additional binding.

  Stepping around behind her, he lifted the blindfold from the bed and draped it over her eyes.

  “Umm,” she began as he pulled the knot tight.

  “Shh.” He walked around her and touched a fingertip to her lips. “Listen, feel, and learn what a sub experiences when giving over complete control to someone else.”

  He ran his hands up each arm, slid one in a soft decent between her breasts, and curved the other around the nape of her neck. He kept his voice soft and his attention focused on her every nuance. “Your pulse is rapid. I can tell with a glance here.” He lightly brushed the skin over her neck where her heartbeat throbbed. “Anticipation or fear? That’s what I must decide....”

  His next touch circled a sensitive areola. One lap and a flick of her beaded nipple, and she sucked in a hissed breath. “This tells me your pulse is raging because of arousal. You can shake your head, scream stop, or whimper with frustration, and it wouldn’t hide these signs that tell me you approve of my touch.” He’d touched her only twice, but already her breathing was shallow.

  He turned away to look over the toys he’d set on the bed. His submissive nature wanted to ask what she preferred, seek her input on how best to stimulate her to climax, but he couldn’t do that while in his current role. Masters didn’t ask; they knew, or at least observed enough to make an educated guess, without giv
ing away their position of power. So he let his observation and instinct point the way.

  She’d reached out toward a vibrator with a unique curved tip and an appendage used for clitoral stimulation. It looked strange, but Carl knew enough about the preferred toys of the club to know it was a favorite among females regardless of their position as a Domme or sub.

  But he didn’t want to be predictable either, so instead of grabbing the vibrator, he looked around the room.

  “Carl?”

  He’d been so quiet for so long, she’d become agitated...and more aroused. He let the silence stretch another second or two. Then, since he hadn’t found anything in the room that he wanted to use, he leaned forward and nipped the tip of one breast with his teeth.

  She startled. Her breaths came rapid now. Her chest rose with each inhalation as if seeking his mouth once more. But he didn’t touch her there again. Instead, he quietly moved around behind her and bent toward her to nip at her neck. This time she sucked in a deep, sudden breath, but didn’t jolt.

  He whispered, “You like the unexpected, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  He swatted her on the butt. She yelped.

  “Is that the way I told you to address me?”

  “No, Carl.”

  Knowing the strike of his hand stung, he rubbed the soft curve of her behind. He whispered, “As a Domme, you’ll have to always be on your guard. Subs test their masters as much as masters push the limits of their subs. As a slight female—”

  She snorted, interrupting him, so he popped her on the butt again.

  “—the male subs could take advantage of you. Physically, they’re stronger. Control and dominance must be established in other ways.”

  He told himself he was foolish to admit such to her. She could use the knowledge against him. But another part of him insisted he instruct her properly. They’d made no long-lasting commitment to one another. She was an out-of-towner on holiday in Florida, so she could decide to leave tomorrow or the next day. Though he knew that to be true, he tried not to let that thought make his stomach churn.

  No, it was best he tell her what he knew. If she should leave, he had to be sure she at least knew of the dangers in the lifestyle she’d chosen to experience. Not all male subs saw their submission as a way to ensure they pleased their mistresses. Some demanded to be tamed, and any mistresses not up to the task could find themselves, or their hearts, trampled.

  To prove his point, he cupped the back of her neck, bent her forward at the waist, and pulled her bound wrists up. He’d caught her by surprise again with his sudden movement, so he had her in place before she could mutter a sound of alarm or protest. With his hand still in place to keep her head down, he walked her over to one of the bed’s columns. “Hold still,” he said as he ripped the Velcro strap on one cuff and rebound her wrists to the ironwork in such a way to keep her bent over with arms stretched out behind her.

  “With a woman, a man can more often than not force her into the position he wants, as I just did with you. When the sub is a man, however, physical force doesn’t always work.” He nudged her feet farther apart and enjoyed the view of her nice round ass.

  He’d seen many women in similar positions before, but none intrigued him like the woman who now stood bowed before him. It was almost enough to make him drop to his knees and beg to switch places with her. As the master in this scene, however, he should ensure she was more concerned with his pleasures than her own. He was supposed to be teaching her the role of a sub, but he couldn’t help wanting to see to her satisfaction first.

  Slowly, he brushed a couple of fingertips along her neck and was pleased to discover her rapid, aroused pulse.

  “What should a mistress do, then, with an uncooperative sub?” she asked, curiosity evident in her tone.

  “Each dominant partner must determine her own path for gaining the trust, and ultimately the obedience, of a sub.” He leaned over her, his lips drawing near her ear, and he lowered his voice. “It’s always best to follow your instincts.” That tip given, he followed his own advice by stroking her skin everywhere except where he knew she wanted it most.

  He didn’t tell her that postponing pleasure could heighten the enjoyment; he showed her. He curled his fingers to let his short nails add new sensations to his strokes and heard the soft, mewl-like sound she failed to hold back.

  “The best mistresses know how to excite with the slightest touch, how to tantalize with the softest whisper...” He let his eyes close as he continued the sensual massage and let his words paint the portrait for both of them. “...how to make your dream a reality. She can take control of your body and strip your soul bare.” He kept up the stimulation. Never stopping. Back and forth, around and around. Slow, smooth strokes, almost lazy yet ever attentive. Drawing near. So close.

  And as he moved, the vision of her as his mistress solidified in his mind. His voice dropped to a low, dreamy murmur. “Each caress would send me higher. Each glimpse of your body a gift. My heart rate yours to command. And still you know...you know to draw out the moment...stretch it until I think I’ll die from the pleasure.”

  “Dios mio.” A shiver rippled through her body that awakened him from his own musings and made him realize she’d climaxed. At least, he suspected that was the case. He found out for certain by gliding a finger along the crack of her butt, between her labia, and into her moist pussy.

  With a casual press and withdrawal, and steady repetition, Carl finger-fucked her until he felt her insides quiver again and her hips rock in opposition to his motion. He added a second and then a third finger while tweaking the tips of each breast and watching her closely.

  The vision of her body, the subtle sounds of her encouragement, propelled his own arousal to surprising heights. His cock throbbed with an urgent need to fill her.

  A true master would probably take her mouth, make her service him, but Carl chose to give in to his own fantasy. He rubbed his cock across her damp pussy, risked one shallow stroke inside. She responded by shoving her hips against him, a silent order for more depth, but he resisted.

  As he pulled out and repositioned his cock at the puckered opening of her anus, her head reared up. Even blindfolded, she was aware of his intention. He paused to see what she’d do, his hands motionless on the gentle swell of her ass.

  Would she stop him with her safe word? Break from her submissive role and order him to release her? He waited with bated breath.

  Slowly, she lowered her head, her signal clear. He pushed forward with a steady pressure until his slick cock slipped inside. So tight. He couldn’t prevent the groan and didn’t even try. He gritted his teeth as he inched in deeper, deeper, until at last his entire length was fully seated.

  “You okay?” he asked, barely able to get the words out as his body focused on the exquisite pressure surrounding his cock. When all she did was whimper, he repeated the question and got a response in the form of a half-sigh, half-hiss.

  “Oh, yesss.”

  He eased back, pressed home once, and cherished the moan she gave as reward. The throb of his cock felt magnified by the tight confines of her body, the firm grip of her sphincter that pulled on him with each slow withdrawal and thrust.

  Spotting the vibrator on the bed, he decided another surprise was in order. He snatched it up and pulled back enough to work the fake cock into her pussy, ensuring the clitoral stimulator was perfectly aligned. When he pushed back into her ass, he felt the added pressure and had to take a deep breath to retain control.

  If it felt half as good to her as it did for him, they’d both go crazy in no time.

  Settling into a rhythm, he rocked into her ass, his hand guiding the dildo he’d yet to turn on. He kept up a slow pace. He wanted it to last, but his climax drew near before he was ready. Too soon. In a frantic race to send her over the edge before him, he pushed the dildo in deep and turned it on, his fingers reaching around to ensure that it rubbed her clit.

  At the club, he’d
come without command when fucking fellow subs plenty of times, but he’d always managed to coax such commands from his dominant partners before. Now, however, he found himself in a unique situation. He knew she wouldn’t order his release, not in their current roles, although maybe he could...

  “Tell me, Carmen.” He panted as he fought to hold off his orgasm. “Tell me.... What do you want to do?” She shook her head, fierce and rapid. He flicked her clit harder, plucking it in time with his own thrusts into her ass. Come on...please. “Say it!”

  “Come!” she shouted.

  Yes! Carl threw back his head, shoved as deep as he could inside her warm body, and let himself go.

  Chapter Nine

  Carmen sat down at a small, round table near the bar and smiled at Tyrone, the burly, dark-skinned bartender that Carl had introduced her to earlier. As activity picked up in the club, she felt a little more secure being within sight of someone she knew. She wasn’t a shy person, nor a quiet one. Usually, she was very outgoing and liked to meet new people, but this crowd...

  It wasn’t the same as the other night with the Montgomerys when the place had a more formal atmosphere and everyone had donned their best eveningwear. Tonight there were men and women in everything imaginable from jeans and T-shirts to...well...nothing. A few women and at least one man were completely naked except for collars around their necks. Most of the attendees wore latex or leather of some form.

  Carmen glanced down at the outfit Carl had helped her construct out of Olivia’s club wear. The leather skirt barely covered her ass—she had to make sure she never bent over in it—and the bustier... Looking down, she could see a lot more skin than red leather. She’d not wanted to wear anything this revealing, but Carl had insisted she wouldn’t stand out at the club. He was right. She was more covered than a lot of the people around her.

  He’d been so right about a lot of things during their tête-à-têtes. She’d returned him to his cottage just after sunup, and they’d spent much of the following days together—when he wasn’t at work—relaxing, strolling on the beach, and enjoying each other’s company. In many ways, she found him so comfortable to be with that she marveled at the realization they hadn’t known each other long. Maybe it was because Olivia had shared so much with her about Incognito and her close circle of friends. Maybe it was Carl’s own unique ability to soothe her with a mere touch, a subtle glance.