TRUST - Meghan & Quint (Fettered Book 5) Read online

  His hands land on my thighs. “When you think about being naked in the dungeon with people watching, how do you feel?”

  As soon as he asks me, I know. “Sick to my stomach.” I meet his eyes. “Just sick. I don’t want to do that.”

  “Good.” One word, laden with approval. “Stick with the place inside you where that feeling lives, and picture yourself dressed just like you are, hands against the wall in the dungeon with a few people standing around watching. I pull the crotch of your panties to the side and slide two fingers inside your pussy.”

  This one’s so much more complicated.

  “Remember what Eva did?” He’s not pushing me, but he’s not letting me wiggle out, either. “She gave Tank details.”

  And he was really happy with her for doing it. I take in a breath, even though it feels like my ribs don’t move anymore. “I feel all quivery when I think about people watching. Really uncomfortable, but different than sick.”

  “Aroused?”

  He’s like a psychologist with a shovel. “I think so.”

  “But?”

  I almost snarl at him. “But I don’t want all of it, and I’m trying to figure it out so I can tell you, and I need time to think.” I slap a hand over my mouth. “Shit. I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.” I never snap at people like that, and it’s way worse than what Eva did to make Tank frown.

  “It’s okay.” He backs up a step, leans against the counter. “Next time I expect you to tell me with better manners, but you figured out something you need and you asked for it. I can be a pushy guy, even in negotiations, and you need me to back off. Done. I’ll give you space to think. If you use it to try to squirm away, I’ll be all over your ass.”

  There are people coming around behind the bar to help themselves to drinks. I’m too caught up in what just happened to care. “Thank you.”

  He crosses his arms and waits.

  I sigh. I knew the answer as soon as he backed off. “There’s a part of what you suggested that still makes me feel sick. I think it’s the way I’m facing.”

  He smiles slowly. “There we go. Tug on that thread, sweetheart—what else is there?”

  He’s practically stroking me with his voice. I’ve done something really right, and even though I’m not sure what it is, I want to keep doing it. “The part where people can tell that you’re touching me—I think that’s the quivery part. But I don’t want them to be able to see.” I tip my head down, because I’m discovering my inner prude, and she’s loud and annoying. “I don’t want to feel like I’m in a bad porn vid.”

  He grins at me. “We’d be a good porn vid, but I get your point. You’re okay with people knowing what we’re doing, but you’re not okay with them being able to see a close-up of my fingers sliding in and out of your pussy.”

  There’s no way this underwear is ever going back to Scorpio. “I don’t know if I’m okay with any of it, but yes. The part where they know feels quivery and embarrassing and really uncomfortable. The part where they can see feels different. I don’t want that.”

  “Good.” He pats my knee in time with his words. “That’s two hard limits you’ve found for tonight.”

  My brain and the heat between my legs are more focused on the parts I’ve agreed to.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Quint

  It’s time to get her out of her head and tied down to something solid. “I’m going to give you the same list Tank gave Eva. You’ve already green-lighted my fingers in your pussy and public sex play with no direct visual lines for the audience. I’d like to add anal play, nipple clamps, and light-to-moderate impact play.”

  She makes an immediate face. “No nipple clamps. Those sound horrible.”

  They also involve her nipples seeing daylight, and I’ve pushed her hard enough on nudity for one evening. “Agreed. Anything else?”

  She closes her eyes, and I watch the flush rise up her neck. I stay quiet. Time to see how brave she can be.

  She opens them back up. “No. I’m agreeing to the rest.”

  I study her, hard. “So I can stick my fingers or a plug in your ass if I want to? Paddle you or have you pick a crop to play with?”

  My words ratchet up her nervousness, but they also make her nipples hard and her breathing shallow.

  She scrunches up her face. “I won’t really know until you do it. But I’m saying that I’m willing to try.”

  I borrow Tank’s line, because it was a good one. “Thank you for trusting me with that.” I wait as she lights up a little. “You have two safewords. If anything I do is pushing you really close to a line, even if it’s not one you told me about, that’s when you use yellow. Red if you suddenly tip over and can’t continue.”

  She’s nodding, but I can see the usual beginner answer in her eyes.

  I’ve never let it slide by me, and I won’t start now. “Every single experienced sub in here has used those words, Meghan. Every single one of them. Most of the Doms, too. Believing you won’t need them is like getting into a car without brakes. It makes you dangerous. You’re trusting me to guide your learning tonight. I need to be able to trust you to use your safewords if you need them.”

  Her eyes are wide, but more importantly, I see the light bulb beginning to glow behind them. “Okay. Yellow if it’s getting really scary or my stomach feels bad, and red if I need everything to stop.”

  I’m still not convinced she really gets it, but some things only get clear with practice. I slide a hand under her elbow. “We’re going to walk into the dungeon now. I want you to keep your head down, eyes on the floor, hands clasped behind your back.”

  I move my hand to her lower back to guide her. I’m not a Dom who’s big on classic submissive walks, but this one will help keep her attention on me and off the crowd. Which is a good call—as soon as we enter the dungeon, I can see the size of the potential audience. Tank and Eva are pulling in most of it, but Meghan’s newness is shining like a bright penny, and that will pull a few eyes our way.

  I head her at a bench in the corner. It’s out of the way enough to signal that I’m not looking for us to be the center of attention, and it’s set up with soft cuffs. I catch Milo’s eye and give him a couple of hand signals. He pushes a button or two and has the bench up at waist height before we get there. Mattie, standing beside him, gives me a cheerful wave—and then realizes who my sub is.

  Apparently Meghan hasn’t shared at the water cooler.

  Mattie melts into the background, clearly coming to the same conclusion. Milo fiddles with a couple more adjustments and heads for the cupboard where I keep my tool bag. It’s well stocked for dealing with trainees, and we both know that the faster Meghan is strapped down and this scene is in motion, the better she’ll do. Timing is a great way to mess with more experienced subs, but this one needs wheels down and hands on her ass.

  Or wherever I decide to put them.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Meghan

  I feel like I’m stuck in one of my own dreams, the surreal ones where everything is blurry and all I can see is feet. My dreams don’t have nearly so many black stilettos or bare feet, though.

  I breathe in. I know there’s noise in the dungeon, but I can’t hear it—my heart is beating too loudly in my own ears. I know this was what I signed up for when I showed up in Scorpio’s lacy things. She doesn’t play much at the club and neither does Emily, but they listen. The man with his hand on my back has a rep.

  I don’t feel like an outsider now. Whatever this is, I’m right in the middle of it.

  Quint brings his hand to my arm and stops me at the edge of a long, skinny table. Or I think it’s a table. It’s covered in black leather and has wide, stocky legs, kind of like an upscale, kinky sawhorse. He takes my arms from behind my back and guides my hands to the table. “Bend over, ass up, legs spread wider than your shoulders.”

  He sounds like drill sergeant. One with an erection pressed firmly against my ass, and bending over is just going to
increase that pressure. I slide my hands forward a little on the black leather. It’s cool, and softer than I expect it to be. A very upscale sawhorse.

  I manage to lay my chest down. He keeps his cock squarely lined up with my pussy and slides his hands up my back. “Good. Milo is going to secure your hands and feet. Let him know if anything is uncomfortable.” I feel more hands reaching for the cuffs on my wrists, clipping them to something under the table that lets them hang. It’s a weird feeling—solid, and yet totally not.

  When a firm hand wraps around my ankle, I yelp. Quint presses his cock against me more firmly. His hands are massaging my ass, sliding under the boy shorts and tugging on the lace running to my clit as he digs his thumbs into tight spots I didn’t even know I had.

  Sensory overload. I try to tuck my face into my shoulder, but there’s no place to hide. Milo wraps a cuff around my other ankle and clips it in place. I’m firmly trussed, but it’s hard to focus on how that feels. Quint’s thumbs are drifting perilously close to parts of my ass that have never been involved in a massage.

  He backs away from me just enough to run his thumbs down the wet length of my pussy. “Open your eyes, Meghan.”

  I didn’t realize they were closed. I open them—and look straight into Shelley’s eyes. She’s sitting on a couch, flanked by her two Doms, ready to watch the show. All she needs is a bowl of popcorn.

  The noise that comes out of my throat sounds like strangled duck.

  Shelley winks at me and cuddles into her men.

  Quint’s thumbs travel the length of my pussy again, yanking me back to attention. I shudder and somehow manage to keep my eyes open, but I let them blur. People might be watching me, but there’s just no way I’m going to survive this if I watch them.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Quint

  She’s made it over the first hurdle. She knows she’s got an audience. She didn’t run screaming, she didn’t turn her face away, and her pussy thinks she likes being watched even if her mind isn’t sure yet.

  Good enough.

  I step back from Meghan’s ass, keeping a hand on her tailbone. Time to play with some toys before my cock learns how to undo leathers from the inside. Milo’s arranged several within easy grabbing distance, and I pick up one of my workhorse favorites. It’s one of Ari’s creations. She calls it a mutant slapper, but it’s really somewhere between a slapper and a tawse. Eva wouldn’t like the noise it makes at all, but it’s got a lot of sensation options in one handy toy.

  I crack it against my leg, giving my sub a little warning. She jumps, and I can see the bewildered look on her face as she processes that it wasn’t her that got hit. I grin—it will be soon enough. I run my fingers under the leg openings of her underwear and pull them into a handful on her tailbone, baring her ass cheeks and giving me some interesting leverage on her pussy.

  Underwear definitely picked out by a Dom. I’ll have to thank Harlan later. These aren’t Emily’s style, but they have cranky Scorpio written all over them. Which may well be why they’re adorning my sub. Scorpio has some pretty inventive ways of getting even.

  I crack the slapper against my leg again and then on Meghan’s ass before she has a chance to process anything. Her upper body stays beautifully still, but she jerks hard against the leg restraints. I take a hard look at Milo’s handiwork, but he’s given her just enough room to wiggle without accidentally screwing up my aim. Good enough.

  I tug on the underwear, and the friction pulls Meghan up on her toes. I land the slapper on her ass, which drops her right back down. I press my hip against her leg. “Be still.”

  This time, she jerks when I land the slapper, but keeps her heels on the ground. I growl a little, low and pleased. I’m not a big talker, and this sub cues off my sounds just fine.

  She nearly melts into the table.

  There are upsides to a sub who likes to please this much. I land the slapper a little harder, left ass cheek and then right, tugging on the underwear in an uneven rhythm that will keep her guessing and hopefully have her clit at least as frustrated as my cock. Scenes with a beginner don’t usually have this much of a sexual vibe, but this one has all the hallmarks of a bad case of Dom blue balls, and I’ve barely gotten started.

  I focus on the nicely pink skin of her ass instead. She’s taking it like a pro, not moving away from the blows at all. Ready for more. I step up the intensity, keeping a close watch on her hands, her toes, all the places where subs show tension first. Nothing. I can hear the murmurs behind me. A newbie who can take this much from an impact toy is an attractive addition to a kink club, and apparently I’m not the only Dom who’s noticed.

  I want to turn around and growl at them all, which surprises the hell out of me. I’m not a territorial guy. Protective, yeah, and she’s not ready to play with anyone else—but this feels different.

  Which is a mind-fuck I need to consider later, because I have a sub so new she squeaks ramping up to a level of impact play that requires my full and complete attention, even if it’s just long enough to back her slowly down. I add a couple of particularly sharp cracks that cause a quiet groan and then I start that process. Hands still moving, slapper still landing, but I’m backing off on the weight.

  All I wanted tonight was to give her a taste. Any more than that and she’s not going to have enough brain cells still with me for the rest.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Meghan

  I almost got to the top of the roller coaster hill. Almost. The sharp cracks of whatever he’s hitting me with were shifting into something deep and beautiful—and now he’s taking them away.

  I hear someone’s frustrated whine and realize it’s me.

  Quint chuckles, and there’s a clatter, like something hard and bouncy just hit the ground. “Demanding sub. You can have more of that some other time. Right now, your pussy’s so wet you’ve soaked through your panties, and I think I deserve a reward for making your ass all nice and pink.”

  His hand strokes my butt cheeks as he talks, setting off little fires as he squeezes. It’s not entirely comfortable, but I don’t want him to stop. His fingers slide in under my underwear and cup me, and that fire feels totally different. Liquid, needy, and just getting started. I try to push up into his touch and feel the cuffs on my ankles. The ones spreading me wide so I can’t hide from whatever he wants to do next.

  I almost laugh. The last thing I want to do is hide.

  He makes one of those noises I’m learning to live for as his fingers make light circles over my clit, swimming around in the slick lake, spreading it out.

  I hear a squirting noise, and then there are fingers in my ass crack too. Slimy, cold fingers. I open my mouth to protest and all that comes out is squawking duck.

  The fingers circling my clit rub more firmly, and his other hand matches the motion in the valley of my ass. I can feel my legs trembling. I’m not totally new to anal sex, but this feels shaky all over.

  He shifts his hands, sliding them under the boy shorts from a different angle. His thumb is on my clit now, his fingers wrapping around to my low belly. His other hand splays over my still-tender ass, thumb in my crack, rubbing hard enough to let me know exactly what he intends next. I’m caught, held firmly by two thumbs, slick and ready to invade.

  I groan and try to wiggle, needing his hands to move. He firms his grip and holds me still, which only makes me wetter. More needy.

  His thumbs start alternating pressure. Not heading in yet. Teasing. My pussy is begging. My ass isn’t quite so sure, because his thumb feels huge and those muscles haven’t seen action in a long time.

  He presses more firmly into my ass, and I feel the fire as my body tries to shove him back out again. His other thumb slides deep into my pussy and heads straight for my magic spot.

  My duck doesn’t sound strangled anymore.

  He chuckles and slides the thumb in my ass around while he massages my g-spot. It’s utter, mind-blowing torture—uncomfortable as hell and really amazing, a
ll at the same time.

  I whimper, because even though my ass is protesting the stretch, I want more. Deeper. Faster. Something.

  His fingers clamp tighter and his thumbs slide in and back out, first one and then the other. Deep, but slow—almost like a caress.

  I don’t want to be caressed. “Quint, please.” I’m whining and I don’t care.

  Both thumbs disappear. A hand lands on my ass, and it’s not gentle. “Do you have permission to speak?”

  His words are like driven ice and they make me want to curl up and die. I’ve screwed up, broken all the wonderful that was happening. “No.”

  “No, what?”

  I have no idea what he wants—and then I feel the cuffs on my wrists. The softly padded leather under my belly. “No, Sir.”

  “Don’t forget again.” His hands are stroking me, far gentler than his words. “Do you want to come?”

  More than I want to breathe. I stay quiet.

  He chuckles. “You can answer a direct question.”

  There are too many rules. “Yes, Sir. I’d like to come very much. Please.”

  His hands move back to their clamping positions. I can feel myself relaxing. Grateful. This time I push against his thumb in my ass, and it slides in much more easily.

  He makes one of his approving sounds, and it stokes a glow somewhere deep. I didn’t break us after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Quint

  One thumb in my sub’s ass and the other in her pussy and I should be in my happy place. But I’m not, because I did what a trainer is supposed to do and reminded her of my rules for the scene, and the look on her face felt like a gut punch.

  Which is a problem. Subs screw up, and she needs to trust that what we’ve built in this scene isn’t that fucking fragile.