Ripples Page 13
“I do.”
“Are you sure?”
She was lost to this man. “Please, Dexter, use the clamps.”
“Bug, you can do better than that.”
Her body writhed in the restraints. “Please, I’m begging you.”
“That’s my good girl...” His voice faded as he guided the clamp over her nipple.
“Oh...ouch....” She bit her lip to keep her words from spilling out as she worked to do as he’d taught her—to internalize. Tears filled her eyes as he tightened the clamp around one engorged nipple.
“That's it.” He leaned down and kissed the tear away. “Your tears are nearly as sweet as your pussy.” He secured the second clamp.
Natalie found that if she ignored the pressure, concentrated on something else, the initial pain would subside...it would be bearable...until he removed them. He spread her legs, tightening her insides. Maybe he'd let her come. She could concentrate on that.
“No!” Her hips bucked and screams echoed as the clamp tightened over her clit.
Dexter's lips kissed her folds. “You hesitated. You lost your choice.”
And then his fingers were inside her, working her pussy, bringing more circulation to her clit. The closer the orgasm, the more painful the third clamp became.
How could something feel so good and hurt so much?
“Please, Dexter, don't make me come.”
“But you like to come. Don’t hold back, bug. Let me hear your pain and pleasure.”
Even in the tub, the memory brought moisture back to between her legs. She’d come harder than she ever remembered. And then Dexter ran his hands over her wet breasts, causing her to flinch and bringing her back to the coconut-scented relief.
“Are they still sore?” he asked, pinching the bruised nipple.
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“How's your clit?”
“It still hurts too.” She couldn't believe how easily it had become to talk to him, to answer his questions.
“Tell me your thoughts.”
“Before I was remembering what we did today, I was thinking about the time you came behind me.”
His eyes widened. “You were?”
She nodded.
“Go on.”
“You've let me come so many times since then, yet you only did that one time. Can I...?” She suddenly felt unsure.
“Can you what?”
“Can I help you?”
She waited and watched. Though his eyes grew a deeper shade of ocean blue, Dexter didn't answer. She'd almost forgotten her offer by the time he helped her from the tub, tenderly dried her body, and after directing her to the mattress, coated her skin with lotion. Lost in the scent of sunshine, she became transfixed on the man above her. With each aromatic application, his muscled torso flexed, making the indentations of his abs more defined. His large hands—the ones that could bring both pain and pleasure—gently caressed her tender body. At times like this, witnessing his restrained power, Natalie understood what his words never uttered: it took more strength for him to control his actions than to wield a crop or cause her tears.
There was something in that realization: the knowledge that she could give him an outlet for both, taking his bite and allowing him to make it better with a kiss, caused her heart to swell. Maybe she was going crazy.
“How, bug?”
Dexter didn't need to say more. She knew what he was asking. How was she willing to help him?
“I've never seen a man...I know we're going to have sex. I think I'm ready, but first, can I touch it?”
“So only your hands?”
She shrugged. “And maybe my mouth.”
Dexter groaned. “It's time for your dinner.”
“Maybe this once, we can eat later?”
He stood. “Off the bed, Nat. Kneel for your king.”
Chapter 19
Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength,
while loving someone deeply gives you courage. ~ Lao Tzu
Natalie scurried from the bed to the floor. The anticipation building inside her camouflaged the hard surface beneath her knees. She didn't notice the concrete as her breasts heaved and she assumed the position he’d taught her long ago: sitting back on her bent toes with her hands at her side.
And then her concentration was on Dexter.
Had she given up hope of ever leaving this room? She didn't know. What Natalie had come to realize was that her life as she had known it no longer existed. The turmoil over classes and meeting everyone else's expectations was a thing of the past. Keeping up appearances and pleasing everyone didn't matter. Those pressures had been chains holding her in a box designed by her birth, family, and social status. As strange as her existence was now, it was simpler and surprisingly freer.
Natalie now had one priority. He was currently observing her every move.
Her breath stilled as Dexter walked around her, once and then again. The tap of his boots on the concrete became the rhythm of her pulse, slow and methodical, giving her strength to continue. Dexter gathered her damp hair and with a tie secured it into a ponytail at the top of her head.
Natalie exhaled. He hadn't braided it.
Again, he was in front of her. “Go ahead, open my jeans.”
She reached up, and as she unsnapped his jeans, her tongue darted to her suddenly dry lips. Everything about this was scary and exciting. Through veiled lashes she looked up at her king as she reached for the zipper. When he nodded, she lowered it. Beneath his jeans, his briefs were black and silky. The hard bulge she’d only felt was now pushing against the soft material.
“Keep going.”
Her throat dried as she tugged his jeans to his thighs. She'd never before so much as seen his thighs. They were defined and muscular. Did all men's thighs look as powerful? Her heart raced at new speed as she reached for the band of his briefs. His erection was in front of her, covered for only a moment longer. What would it look like?
Dexter stopped her hands. “Nat, I'm going to come, either in your mouth or on you. Do you realize that?”
With her heart thumping, she nodded. “I want you to. I want to be the one who makes that happen, like you are for me.”
“Fuck,” he breathed the word more than he said it.
With more confidence than she truly felt, she lowered the band. Her eyes opened wide as his penis sprang forward. Natalie gasped. “It's so big.” Truly she had nothing to compare it to. She looked up to his deep, turbulent eyes. “I-I...inside me?”
Dexter petted her hair. “Not today, bug. Today, kiss it.”
Surely he could hear her heart beating, the way it was pounding in her chest. She leaned forward, familiarizing herself with the only man to have her. His musky scent, the way the flesh of his thick shaft stretched, revealing veins. His hair—there—was coarse. Her lips came forward and puckered as they contacted the tight skin. Despite its hardness, the surface was velvety soft.
“Now your hands.”
It took both of them as she wrapped her fingers around him. Beneath her grasp his cock thickened, growing even larger. The tip glistened as pre-cum leaked from a slit.
Up and down, her hands moved, faster and faster. More cum oozed down his cock, creating a slick medium that allowed her hands to slide as she pumped.
“Suck it, bug.”
She opened her lips wide and pushed her tongue to the base of her mouth. Keeping her hands around the length, she lowered her mouth until she couldn't take any more. The flavor was musky and salty, like nothing she'd tasted.
“Fuck, that feels so good.”
It was the encouragement she needed. She was doing this. Sucking his cock was like accepting his pain. It was what he expected, but unlike his pain, this didn't hurt. It was empowering.
Until it wasn’t.
Dexter’s hand found the ponytail he'd styled. Gripping it tighter, he dictated the movement of her head. No longer in control, Nat fought the urge to gag as his length reached the back
of her throat. Her eyes watered and nostrils flared. It wasn't the same kind of pain as that brought on by a crop to her sensitive skin, yet it created the same fear. Would she survive?
Though she was unsure of what was about to happen, she didn’t fight his direction. Instead, she submitted to his desire as her skin prickled, jaw ached, and lungs fought for air. She was at his mercy, and then he released her briefly, only to begin again. Soon they fell into a rhythm allowing her to breathe. As he pumped faster and faster, she forgot the ache of her jaw. No longer was she sucking; she simply existed as a channel for his pleasure. The realization dampened her core. His grip upon her hair tightened until all at once his breathing quickened, and his thrusts became more forceful and erratic.
Like other times with Dexter, this would leave Nat bruised. It wasn't something she questioned. She'd take whatever he offered—his wrath or his cum—if it made him happy. And then it happened: warm liquid spurted in her mouth. Her bruised lips tightened around his penis. There was so much of it as his cock shuddered, and more and more filled her mouth.
“Swallow.”
Of course, she obeyed.
It took conscious effort to allow the first swallow of the thick, warm liquid to be consumed, but once she did, she didn’t hesitate. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t good, but she liked the way he possessively gripped her hair. She knew that she was pleasing him, and that was all that mattered. Gulp after gulp, she continued until all that remained was his still-hard cock.
He pulled it back.
Her eyes were filled with tears, yet her shoulders were straight.
“Fuck, Nat, that was fantastic.”
Her battered lips smiled.
Dexter helped her stand. Her toes were tingly, yet she hadn't been aware of anything but him. He pulled her close as his lips found hers. A kiss, a real kiss. His tongue gently teased her lips.
He'd kissed her many times—her skin, her hair, her tears. This was different. They were kissing each other.
Natalie moaned and her core pinched as her body melted toward his. How had she not realized how perfectly they fit together? Like two pieces of a puzzle, she was where she belonged in his embrace. Craving everything about him, as his cock probed her stomach, she pushed back.
Finally, Dexter took a step away and reached for his shirt.
Her heart sank, knowing he was going to leave her alone.
She wanted to ask when he'd be back, if he was getting her dinner, if she'd done okay. But she knew the routine. Dejectedly, she turned toward the door and took her position.
His shirt came over her shoulders, hanging to her thighs. He eased her arms through the sleeves and rolled them up. Button by button, he closed the front.
Dexter smiled. “That looks good on you.”
It was better than any ball gown she'd ever worn and more precious than anything she'd ever possessed. “I-I may wear it?”
He nodded with a grin. “Yes, bug, you may wear it. I'll be back.”
Though he left her alone, her heart swelled as his fragrance remained.
The days and weeks that followed blended together. She'd had another period. That was her most accurate tell of time.
Dexter-time changed. Not only did he explore her body, but she also explored his. There was still both pleasure and pain, yet she was allowed to touch him as they talked more. No longer only answering his questions, she also conversed with him. She discussed her life, regrets, and dreams with him. They even laughed. One afternoon while straddling his hips, Natalie ran her hands over his firm chest. The beat of his heart thudded under her palms as her core clenched at the sensation of his erection nudging her behind.
Nat looked him in the eye. “I'm ready.”
No longer turbulent, his eyes glistened like the rays of sun over the ocean's waters. “Once we do this, there's no going back.”
“I know.”
“You said you were waiting.”
Nat nodded. “I was waiting until the man who earned my body also held my heart.”
“And...”
“And, Dexter, I’m yours. You have all of me. That means my heart too. You've had all of my body except my virginity. Like the rest of me, it belongs to you too.” Her face flushed. “I mean, it's up to you, but if you want it, it's yours.”
His neck and chest flexed as he leaned up until their lips met. And then he lifted her off him and onto the mattress. As he stood, he reached for his jeans.
Natalie's heart clenched. “A-are you leaving?”
He handed her his shirt—the one she now wore as a dress. “No, Nat, you're not losing your virginity in this room. I took your innocence here; your gift deserves more.”
Suddenly faint, she could barely breathe as her circulation quickened. “You're going to let me leave?”
“Bug, you're never leaving me. I’m never leaving you.” He caressed her jaw as she buttoned the shirt. “I'm going to take you upstairs to a real bed. It's time to remember how a princess lives, but now you're no longer a spoiled princess. You've come a long way, my queen.”
He reached for her hand while at the same time he pushed something in his pocket. The buzz sounded and door opened. Her bare feet barely kept up as he tugged her down the concrete block hallway. “There's no one else here now, so no one will see you.”
Others? There had been other people in this house, or whatever it was? She'd never heard anyone. Had they heard her screams?
At the end of the concrete block hallway was a door. Even if she'd gotten out of the room, she would have needed another key to exit the hallway. When the door opened, she had the sensation of a movie her mother loved. Suddenly, she was Dorothy opening the door of her small home to the magical world of Oz. No longer black and white, everything had color. So much color.
Ornate carpets and rich textures replaced the yellow brick road. Her feet stilled upon the soft, plush surface. There were lush leather sofas, bookshelves filled with colorful spines of books, and a wall of electronics. The lights cast a golden hue over the deep mahogany woodwork.
It was sensory overload as he led her through the large house. It seemed as big as her home in Iowa, but they weren't in Iowa. On the first floor, she gasped at the windows—real windows revealing the world he'd kept hidden from her. Though the sun was setting, she squinted. The scene beyond the glass panes was brighter than anything she’d been exposed to in months. Reflecting the rays of auburn sunshine was a thick blanket of white. It covered everything—large trees and open lawns—like the inside of a snow globe.
Though there wasn’t any snow floating through the air, she had the sensation that someone had just shaken her world.
Nat wanted to ask where they were, but it was all too much.
Step by step, she followed as Dexter led her up a grand staircase to the second floor. His large hand holding tightly to hers gave her the strength to keep moving. No longer damp and cold, the air was fresh and warm. The floor beneath their feet wasn't concrete but polished wood.
Dexter opened a tall wooden door at the end of one hallway to a sitting room. A fire simmered in a fireplace, its warmth rippling the room with heat. A few steps farther and he opened the second door. Natalie’s feet stalled as her blood stilled.
Vibrant colors filled her vision, the bed covered with fluffy down-filled satin comforters. More ornate rugs and grand furniture. Her eyes roamed, knowing that this was where it would happen—where she would be forever changed. It was a bedroom easily four times the size of the room where she had been held. Heck, her room was about the size of the giant bed.
“Dexter?”
He dropped her hand and began to undo the buttons on the front of her shirt. “Natalie, I've waited for this.”
She swallowed and nodded, finding comfort in his determination and patience. He had waited. This was her decision.
Dexter leaned down, kissing her hair, neck, collarbone, and breasts.
Lost in the sensations that only he could give her, Nat’s eyes closed as his lips sent
electricity straight to her core. And then he stopped. When her eyes opened, he was on his knees.
“Natalie, you're my queen.”
“Dexter?” She didn't know what to do. It felt wrong to have him kneel. That was her job.
He brought her hand to his lips. “You're everything I've ever imagined. You said that I have your heart. Natalie, you have mine. You've had it since before we met.”
“I don't understand.”
“I know you don't. Just remember that I love you—not despite everything, but because of everything. That's why what we're about to do is right. It's always been right.”
“You love me?”
“Forever and always.” He stood, scooping her into his arms, and carried her toward the bed.
Before he set her down, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I'm scared.” He'd made her give him her mind and honesty. It only seemed right now.
“I know, bug. I know. This isn't about pain.”
“But you like that.”
He nodded. “I do. I also like bringing you pleasure.”
After a long kiss, Dexter threw back the blankets, revealing softer sheets than she'd slept on in months. He gently laid her on the bed.
Their eyes stayed fixed on one another as he removed his clothes. She marveled at his body, that this handsome, powerful man was the man who loved her. The hardness of his muscles and the gleam of his gaze mesmerized her. By the time he climbed onto the bed, her desire almost exceeded her fear.
Dexter removed the shirt from her shoulders. Moving slowly, tentatively, he touched and caressed her folds and clit, his teeth nipping her skin until her wanton need surpassed reservation. Her breasts heaved as he finally eased over her.
And then with his rigid cock teasing her entrance, he stilled.
“Dexter?”
“I'm never letting you go.”
She shifted her hips, ready for him to take her. “Please, Dexter.”
“What, my little bug?”
“Please, never let me go...I don't know what I'd do without you.”
“That's one lesson you don't need to learn.”