This is Who I Am
Page 41
After a minute, Sally pulled in a slow breath. When she lifted her head, her usual vivaciousness was back. “Well, until I find the perfect one, let the good times roll.” She gave the chauffeur a wicked grin. “Let’s go, Jeeves. I’m your only passenger, so I expect awesome service.”
“Yes, miss.” With the hauteur of an English butler, he gave a slight bow and offered his arm when she staggered slightly.
As the two walked toward the stairs, Linda realized with a jolt that she was the last one left. Uh-oh. She turned her head.
Sam was watching her. His gaze ran slowly over her Domme outfit, and then his lips curved in a hard smile. “Did you give some submissive a thrill, Mistress Red?”
After a second, she remembered the young man. She laughed, laughed again, and said triumphantly, “I did.”
Sam’s brows drew together. “What? What did you do?”
“Just paddled his butt.”
Sam growled, the sound as low as any wolf.
Oops. She eyed him worriedly. “Are you upset?”
His face went unreadable as if he’d frozen his emotions.
Worry slid into her veins like cold grease. Why didn’t he answer? “Sam. I didn’t… It was just a game. Really.” Remembering the outcome of the game, she started to grin. “I beat Jessica and won a toy.”
After a long second, his eyes filled with amusement, and he barked a laugh. “You’re sloshed, missy. Time to go home.”
With an easy swing, he pulled her to her feet, then wrapped an arm around her as he guided her toward the stairs. She only tripped twice…well, maybe three times…and dropped her sack once before he huffed a laugh and swung her into his arms.
She gave a happy sigh. Okay, admit it, I was jealous of the others getting carried.
Outside, Sam set her on her feet beside his truck. Linda’s ears rang in the quiet night. A car moved past with a glare of lights and a wash of gas fumes. As she tried to read Sam’s expression, she realized she was seeing two of him. She blinked. Heavens, she couldn’t handle one Sam; two might make her heart stop. She giggled.
“That’s a pretty sound. You don’t laugh enough, girl.” He pulled open the truck door.
She grinned at him. “I’m happy. Cuz I’m with an AYW-ID.”
She felt him kiss the top of her head before he lifted her onto the passenger seat. Once behind the wheel, he asked, “What the hell is an AYW-ID?”
“It’s when you look at a man and think, ‘Anything you want, I’ll do.’”
“Is that right?” He turned on the engine, then nodded at the brown paper bag clutched in her hands. “In that case, tell me what’s in the sack?”
Oh, heavens. “Nothing interesting.”
Chapter Eighteen
Standing in his bedroom, Sam smothered a grin. Linda was seated in the center of his king-size bed. Naked. As she’d tried to remove her skintight latex shirt, he’d discovered she knew a fair number of interesting curses.
When she looked up at him, her big brown eyes held more than a hint of anxiety. But although some of the alcohol had worn off, she still wasn’t completely sober, and he didn’t beat on drunken masochists. He needed her either capable of using her safe word or for her body language to not be muddled.
Didn’t mean he wouldn’t have a good time though. He’d spent part of the afternoon adding chains to the frame of his bed. Rope would have been easier, but nothing beat the clinking of chains when a submissive yanked on them. Yeah.
“We’re going to play now?” She looked up at him. “You don’t mind that I’m on the drunken side?”
“Nope.” He liked seeing her like this, relaxed. A little giggly. No haunting worries visible in those eyes—none but what he put there. He winked at her. “I intend to enjoy the hell out of it.”
He buckled her into leather wrist and ankle cuffs. Maybe he’d leave them on. Nice easy access in the morning.
After shoving a thick foam wedge under her ass, he chained her arms to the upper posts, leaving her legs free.
“Sam.” She took a gulping breath as she tested the restraints.
“Chains and bedposts. Just call me old-fashioned.” He curved his hand under her jaw and kissed her, not viciously but rougher than normal. Giving her a hint at what would be coming.
The way her breathing sped up was damned appealing.
He put a tweezers clamp on her left nipple, tightening until she whined, then backing off quite a bit since her sensitivity might be impaired. After doing the left, he stopped to kiss her and remind her who he was. Being intoxicated could let old fears surface. She needed to see him, hear him.
“Are you going to hurt me?” she whispered, her expression half-worried, half-eager.
“Not much.” Mostly when the clamps came off. But she wouldn’t be thinking about pain by then. He picked up his handmade cunt-spreader setup. “Spread your legs, girl.”
Her eyes widened at the clamps dangling from the two Velcro straps. “What are those?”
Under his stare, she slowly moved her legs apart.
When he dropped the straps next to her hip, she caught on to where he intended to put those clamps.
He smothered a grin when she started to bring her legs together to cover her vulnerable pussy bits.
“No,” he growled.
She stopped, legs still apart. When he traced a finger over her inner thigh, she shivered. Damn, but she had delicate skin. Soft. So white he knew the sun’s rays had never touched it.
For his own enjoyment, he teased her for a while until she was pleasingly wet and squirming. Then he wrapped a wide strap around each upper thigh as high as he could get. Out of her sight, he plugged in his favorite toy and set it conveniently at hand on the floor.
“Let’s see what you got tonight.” He picked up the brown paper bag she’d forgotten in the truck.
Her face turned a satisfying red, then outraged. “Leave that bag alone!”
“Nope.” Once he had a look at what she’d bought, he’d know what to do about her legs. He pulled out a tiny bottle. Orange-flavored lubricant? He snorted, remembering Gabi’s surprise when she’d given him a blowjob and discovered he’d used an orange-flavored condom.
After tossing it onto the bed, he found the next toy. A long, thin vibrator that curved upward to a flat, ribbed tip. He studied it a minute, then realized the shape was designed to reach the G-spot. Perfect. He gave her an amused look. “You were busy at that party, weren’t you?”
She was so fair-skinned that her blush reached a bright red. “Those are my toys. Not yours.”
“I don’t intend to use them on me, missy.”
The last thing in the bag was… He grinned. No wonder she’d worried.
Her eyes widened when he held it up. “You wouldn’t.”
The anal plug was also a vibrator. Even had batteries already installed. “It’s bigger than I’d have chosen for you.”
Her voice came out nicely higher than normal. “I didn’t choose it. It was a prize. And it’s huge.”
“It’ll fit…with a little work.”
The chains clanked as she yanked on them. Trying not to laugh, he figured out the scenario and what to do with her legs. Hell, this was going to be fun.
HE WOULDN’T REALLY stick that thing up her butt, would he? Linda pulled on the restraints, wanting to put her hands over her vulnerable asshole.
The clamps on her breasts were throbbing with a growing heat. But…what about those straps around her thighs? Did he really intend to use those horrible-looking clamps on her pussy? She saw him squirt lube on the anal plug, and her voice came out sounding strangled. “Sam.”
To her surprise, he set it down.
She let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to—
He picked up a chain fastened to the headboard, then lifted her left leg. A snick connected her ankle cuff and the chain. Her leg was raised, pointing toward her head. Elevated by the wedge pillow, her bottom now tilted upward. “What are you doing?”
“Now, missy, you know the answer to that.” The cool calculation in his eyes made her quake. She was still fuzzy-minded from the alcohol; he definitely was not. He bent her right knee and chained that ankle to the side of the bed, then squeezed her thigh. Just the strength in his powerful hand sent a tremor through her. “Don’t want you to kick at me when I do this.”
This? When she saw him pick up the anal plug, she realized he’d positioned her legs so he could easily reach her asshole. “You bastard. I don’t want any anal stuff.”
“Safe word is red, girl.” His eyes narrowed. “You call me any more names, and I’ll gag you.”
She choked the next curse back, almost strangling herself, and it was a good thing that he’d chained her other leg, since she’d have definitely kicked him.
He studied her, waiting to see if she’d safe word. Then one corner of his mouth tipped up.
Safe word, you fool. But her apprehension was balanced by anticipation; she wanted everything he’d do to her. Wanted his hands on her. Didn’t want anything to stop. But that plug… Her inner voice was whining up a storm and got louder when she felt him push the plug against her anus.
Every muscle on her backside tightened in denial.
“Yes, miss.” With the hauteur of an English butler, he gave a slight bow and offered his arm when she staggered slightly.
As the two walked toward the stairs, Linda realized with a jolt that she was the last one left. Uh-oh. She turned her head.
Sam was watching her. His gaze ran slowly over her Domme outfit, and then his lips curved in a hard smile. “Did you give some submissive a thrill, Mistress Red?”
After a second, she remembered the young man. She laughed, laughed again, and said triumphantly, “I did.”
Sam’s brows drew together. “What? What did you do?”
“Just paddled his butt.”
Sam growled, the sound as low as any wolf.
Oops. She eyed him worriedly. “Are you upset?”
His face went unreadable as if he’d frozen his emotions.
Worry slid into her veins like cold grease. Why didn’t he answer? “Sam. I didn’t… It was just a game. Really.” Remembering the outcome of the game, she started to grin. “I beat Jessica and won a toy.”
After a long second, his eyes filled with amusement, and he barked a laugh. “You’re sloshed, missy. Time to go home.”
With an easy swing, he pulled her to her feet, then wrapped an arm around her as he guided her toward the stairs. She only tripped twice…well, maybe three times…and dropped her sack once before he huffed a laugh and swung her into his arms.
She gave a happy sigh. Okay, admit it, I was jealous of the others getting carried.
Outside, Sam set her on her feet beside his truck. Linda’s ears rang in the quiet night. A car moved past with a glare of lights and a wash of gas fumes. As she tried to read Sam’s expression, she realized she was seeing two of him. She blinked. Heavens, she couldn’t handle one Sam; two might make her heart stop. She giggled.
“That’s a pretty sound. You don’t laugh enough, girl.” He pulled open the truck door.
She grinned at him. “I’m happy. Cuz I’m with an AYW-ID.”
She felt him kiss the top of her head before he lifted her onto the passenger seat. Once behind the wheel, he asked, “What the hell is an AYW-ID?”
“It’s when you look at a man and think, ‘Anything you want, I’ll do.’”
“Is that right?” He turned on the engine, then nodded at the brown paper bag clutched in her hands. “In that case, tell me what’s in the sack?”
Oh, heavens. “Nothing interesting.”
Chapter Eighteen
Standing in his bedroom, Sam smothered a grin. Linda was seated in the center of his king-size bed. Naked. As she’d tried to remove her skintight latex shirt, he’d discovered she knew a fair number of interesting curses.
When she looked up at him, her big brown eyes held more than a hint of anxiety. But although some of the alcohol had worn off, she still wasn’t completely sober, and he didn’t beat on drunken masochists. He needed her either capable of using her safe word or for her body language to not be muddled.
Didn’t mean he wouldn’t have a good time though. He’d spent part of the afternoon adding chains to the frame of his bed. Rope would have been easier, but nothing beat the clinking of chains when a submissive yanked on them. Yeah.
“We’re going to play now?” She looked up at him. “You don’t mind that I’m on the drunken side?”
“Nope.” He liked seeing her like this, relaxed. A little giggly. No haunting worries visible in those eyes—none but what he put there. He winked at her. “I intend to enjoy the hell out of it.”
He buckled her into leather wrist and ankle cuffs. Maybe he’d leave them on. Nice easy access in the morning.
After shoving a thick foam wedge under her ass, he chained her arms to the upper posts, leaving her legs free.
“Sam.” She took a gulping breath as she tested the restraints.
“Chains and bedposts. Just call me old-fashioned.” He curved his hand under her jaw and kissed her, not viciously but rougher than normal. Giving her a hint at what would be coming.
The way her breathing sped up was damned appealing.
He put a tweezers clamp on her left nipple, tightening until she whined, then backing off quite a bit since her sensitivity might be impaired. After doing the left, he stopped to kiss her and remind her who he was. Being intoxicated could let old fears surface. She needed to see him, hear him.
“Are you going to hurt me?” she whispered, her expression half-worried, half-eager.
“Not much.” Mostly when the clamps came off. But she wouldn’t be thinking about pain by then. He picked up his handmade cunt-spreader setup. “Spread your legs, girl.”
Her eyes widened at the clamps dangling from the two Velcro straps. “What are those?”
Under his stare, she slowly moved her legs apart.
When he dropped the straps next to her hip, she caught on to where he intended to put those clamps.
He smothered a grin when she started to bring her legs together to cover her vulnerable pussy bits.
“No,” he growled.
She stopped, legs still apart. When he traced a finger over her inner thigh, she shivered. Damn, but she had delicate skin. Soft. So white he knew the sun’s rays had never touched it.
For his own enjoyment, he teased her for a while until she was pleasingly wet and squirming. Then he wrapped a wide strap around each upper thigh as high as he could get. Out of her sight, he plugged in his favorite toy and set it conveniently at hand on the floor.
“Let’s see what you got tonight.” He picked up the brown paper bag she’d forgotten in the truck.
Her face turned a satisfying red, then outraged. “Leave that bag alone!”
“Nope.” Once he had a look at what she’d bought, he’d know what to do about her legs. He pulled out a tiny bottle. Orange-flavored lubricant? He snorted, remembering Gabi’s surprise when she’d given him a blowjob and discovered he’d used an orange-flavored condom.
After tossing it onto the bed, he found the next toy. A long, thin vibrator that curved upward to a flat, ribbed tip. He studied it a minute, then realized the shape was designed to reach the G-spot. Perfect. He gave her an amused look. “You were busy at that party, weren’t you?”
She was so fair-skinned that her blush reached a bright red. “Those are my toys. Not yours.”
“I don’t intend to use them on me, missy.”
The last thing in the bag was… He grinned. No wonder she’d worried.
Her eyes widened when he held it up. “You wouldn’t.”
The anal plug was also a vibrator. Even had batteries already installed. “It’s bigger than I’d have chosen for you.”
Her voice came out nicely higher than normal. “I didn’t choose it. It was a prize. And it’s huge.”
“It’ll fit…with a little work.”
The chains clanked as she yanked on them. Trying not to laugh, he figured out the scenario and what to do with her legs. Hell, this was going to be fun.
HE WOULDN’T REALLY stick that thing up her butt, would he? Linda pulled on the restraints, wanting to put her hands over her vulnerable asshole.
The clamps on her breasts were throbbing with a growing heat. But…what about those straps around her thighs? Did he really intend to use those horrible-looking clamps on her pussy? She saw him squirt lube on the anal plug, and her voice came out sounding strangled. “Sam.”
To her surprise, he set it down.
She let out a sigh of relief. He wasn’t going to—
He picked up a chain fastened to the headboard, then lifted her left leg. A snick connected her ankle cuff and the chain. Her leg was raised, pointing toward her head. Elevated by the wedge pillow, her bottom now tilted upward. “What are you doing?”
“Now, missy, you know the answer to that.” The cool calculation in his eyes made her quake. She was still fuzzy-minded from the alcohol; he definitely was not. He bent her right knee and chained that ankle to the side of the bed, then squeezed her thigh. Just the strength in his powerful hand sent a tremor through her. “Don’t want you to kick at me when I do this.”
This? When she saw him pick up the anal plug, she realized he’d positioned her legs so he could easily reach her asshole. “You bastard. I don’t want any anal stuff.”
“Safe word is red, girl.” His eyes narrowed. “You call me any more names, and I’ll gag you.”
She choked the next curse back, almost strangling herself, and it was a good thing that he’d chained her other leg, since she’d have definitely kicked him.
He studied her, waiting to see if she’d safe word. Then one corner of his mouth tipped up.
Safe word, you fool. But her apprehension was balanced by anticipation; she wanted everything he’d do to her. Wanted his hands on her. Didn’t want anything to stop. But that plug… Her inner voice was whining up a storm and got louder when she felt him push the plug against her anus.
Every muscle on her backside tightened in denial.
