A WILDer Kind Of Love Read online

  A higher cry burst off her lips. She’d never been on display like this for a man before, so wide and vulnerable, positioned for one purpose alone. As a result, every rational thought in her head was incinerated, replaced by hopes that became pure pleas.

  Take me. Use me. Fuck me.

  “So good,” her Dom grated, biting his way along the inside of one thigh until he hungrily tongued her slit. “So damn good, rose.”

  “All…yours,” she panted back. There was so much more to say. So much gratitude to convey, so much wonderment to confess. But right now, with his mouth unraveling the last shred of her sanity let alone her modesty, it was excruciating to think of voicing anything except the purest intent of her soul. “All…yours…Sir.”

  “Yes.” He confirmed it in the form of a dictate, claiming her with harsher need. He sucked harder on her clit, exposing every damn nerve to his merciless desire. “But I need more. Yeah. More.”

  His demand was her deepest undoing. Eyes closing again, she nodded. Moaned. Reveled in the hot beat of her blood as his fingers pushed her folds wider—

  Until the pressure became pain.

  “Ahhhh!”

  What the hell?

  She glared down her body, into the griffin’s smiling eyes—and the pair of diamond-topped clamps he’d just secured to her pussy lips. While her first instinct was a one-liner full of sassy profanity, not a single word manifested. Crazily, she was drawn to the sight of her most intimate body part, adorned that way for the first time in her life. It was exotic…exciting. For a moment, she even forgot that the clamps hurt so much.

  For a moment.

  “Uh…ow?” she finally spat—earning her a burst of laughter from the masked sadist now resting on his muscular haunches.

  “Breathe, beautiful,” he exhorted. “It’ll get easier if you focus on that.”

  “Says the bastard with his privates still all tucked in and safe.”

  “Says the Dom,” he retorted, “with the dick that’s been imprinted with my pants ever since I locked you to the spreader bar.”

  When her gaze impulsively dropped to his crotch, she expected his humor to reset. Instead, his demeanor hit the burners in the opposite direction, taking on a more ruthless veneer.

  “Masks come in all forms, little girl. I know the pressure you feel. I’ve been forcing myself to wait for this moment,”—his hands slid back up her thighs, now tough and possessive—“when I knew you’d be spread like this for me. Every time you’ve sighed or moaned, I’ve imagined what you’d sound like when I finally attached these—and these.” His hands rose along her torso, now armed with another pair of clamps, attached via sparkling chains to the pair below. Before Tess could even gasp, he closed the two toys over her erect nipples.

  “Ohhhhh!” Her shriek filled her ears. “Are you freaking kidding—”

  The bastard cut her short with the drive of his mouth on hers, plunging his tongue inside. He was so passionate now. So possessive. Moans climbed up her throat. Her mind spun. Wait; what mind? Primal didn’t begin to describe this hot, throbbing mixture of paradise and purgatory. Her body, her mind, her pain, and her pleasure were thoroughly his to command.

  It was wicked. Wild. Wonderful.

  She moaned, deep and long.

  He snarled, dark and satisfied.

  Bastard. Did he think that fixed everything? Tess fought him, even maneuvering to bite his tongue, but it made no difference. Her nip just made him growl harder, before mashing their mouths tighter. Demanding even more…

  Yes. The word flared through her mind with sudden, shocking brilliance. More. Take more…

  No!

  She yelled the word as soon as he set her mouth free. Her hard breaths framed it. Sexy’s lungs pumped just as hard. His stare glittered like cobalt on fire as he pulled up, hitching to his elbows. “That’s not your safe word, rose.” His teeth bared a little. “But use the fucking thing now if you’re going to or breathe and accept my dominance, goddammit.”

  She swallowed hard. Air rushed out of her when that was done, thick with conflict. She’d longed for this for so many years, even more acutely since getting to know Dan better. And here she was, living the Power Exchange dream, though unable to shirk her reality long enough to really surrender to it. To become it. To understand it was okay to give up Tess for a little bit, and just be Sir Sexy’s little red rose…trusting that with the pain, he’d bring ultimate pleasure…

  Taffy.

  If she uttered it now, it really would feel like losing half her fillings.

  She swallowed again. Breathed in. Breathed out. Her breasts and her pussy still throbbed—but the agony was more acceptable now.

  “I’m breathing,” she whispered at last. “I’m…breathing.”

  The griffin brought his hands to her face. Fanned his strong, long fingers along her cheeks. “Yes, little girl, you are.” Gave her tiny, hot nips of his confident, curved lips. “And it’s fucking perfect.” He readjusted his hips a little, settling the bulge beneath his fly along her distended clit. Ohhhh, hell. That was—

  “Good.” It burst from her on a little choke. “Oh, wow. Th-that’s…good.”

  He licked his lips, thoroughly Bacchanal about it, a demigod who knew exactly what he was doing with the quivering, aroused mortal girl. “And that’s only the beginning.”

  “Shit.”

  They laughed together at her reprise. He skated his touch down to her breasts. Teased at the sides with searing circles of his fingertips. Extended his tongue between the tines of the nipple clamps, laving the buds trapped inside.

  Dear God.

  Her throat clutched. Her back arched. The motion increased the pressure on both sets of clamps. Pain coursed through her, jumbling with arousal in a dazzling mix before slamming down to the erect nub between her thighs. The sensations turned her feral, aching and unthinking, an animal enslaved to nothing but carnal needs.

  The world careened again. Her focus flip-flopped. She could suddenly hear every note of the EDM-remixed Donna Summer song out in the bar, but the clanks of the chains that she tugged at, just inches away, seemed like they were miles gone.

  So this was submission.

  What a Dominant could do to a woman, if she gave him her complete trust.

  How he could consume her…

  And consume he did. Burning her with his mouth, on her breasts and neck and face. Searing her with his hands, along her waist and hips and thighs. Skyrocketing her desire with the rub of his arousal against her swollen sex. Scrubbing her cognizance of time. Had a minute passed? An hour? Did she care? The world became sensation and sin and necessity and heat, honed on the space deep inside that screamed for one thing only…

  “Please.” She could barely infuse the word with volume. “Oh, please. I need it. I need you. I—I—” What? What did she need? She’d find the words in a second. She had to. She had to.

  He kissed her again, mercifully ripping the responsibility of speech from her again. Tess whined in gratitude, accepting the dives of his tongue as a deeper baptism into his control, reveling in the rhythmic clanks of the chains at her wrists, timed with every passionate lunge he unleashed.

  “Reach out with your fingers,” he finally dictated. His voice was lower and harder, practically sinister with authority. “Wrap them around the chains. You’re going to need the extra strength.”

  “Y-Yes, Sir.”

  She knew he didn’t need the affirmation—but she did. As her fingers closed around the thick steel links, she imagined his shoulders felt much the same way, as they coiled to jerk at his straining crotch. His teeth flashed, white and gritted, as he finally freed his erection from his jeans.

  Her breath left her in a stunned rush. She couldn’t see his cock but sure as hell felt it. Her lips fell open. He was magnificent. Hot. Swollen. Straining. The tip already dripped, so ready for her. After another frantic tug, one of his hands reappeared, foil flashing between his fingers then his teeth. Once the condom was free, he roll
ed it on with an urgent push. She bit her lip, hating that he had to sheath himself but rejoicing in the hardness and heat she could feel even through the latex. Her body matched the crucial energy from his, needing him just as desperately in return. Her channel sluiced with new wetness. Her limbs softened, preparing for ultimate surrender. As he shuttled his cock upward, lubricating himself with her cream, she arched up. Her heart, already hammering from the “helpers” fixed to her labia and nipples, threatened to explode from her chest and scream at him in person.

  Need you. Need you. Need you!

  “I’m going to fuck you now, little girl. And I’m not going to be nice about it.”

  “Don’t need nice,” she rasped. “Just—need—”

  Her high scream took the place of the rest. The griffin had saved a not-so-little surprise. The moment before he filled her tunnel with his sex, he flooded new blood back into her pussy, pulling off the clamps with two fast snaps.

  Agony. Ecstasy. The rush of both was insane, incredible, unreal. As his cock ignited her core, pain rushed her tender lips. Her clit throbbed and raced, needing to explode.

  “Oh, my God,” she panted. “Oh…so…good.”

  “Words out of my mouth.” Her Dom dug his teeth back into her neck, his breaths fierce, his heat surrounding her. “Your body…your submission…my God…so much better than I ever dreamed…”

  Tess gulped. Then again. Surely, she imagined the depths of intensity in his voice, especially as it trailed again into the dark huffs of his passion. Okay, he was a Dom but he was also a guy, a member of the Mars brigade, biologically programmed to spill crazy things “in the moment” that they’d never cop to once the big head was doing the thinking again.

  In short, it wasn’t worth cataloguing, let alone stressing over—especially because “in the moment” was like nothing she’d ever dreamed, either. With every scalding thrust he delivered, she was stretched beyond comfort, filled beyond arousal. She reveled in every second. He surrounded her. Owned her. Possessed every whimper off her lips, sweat drop on her skin, sensation in her sex. He knew it, too. Growled in dark, heavy pleasure because of it, as he fisted a hand into her hair, using her scalp as an anchor for his harder assault.

  “Your cunt is so wet for me.”

  “Shit,” she managed. “Yes.”

  “Gripping me. So damn tight for me.”

  “Yes.” It was slurred due to his hard bite on her neck, teeth nearly tearing at her like a vampire. “Yes. Yessssss.”

  “Is it going to come for me, too? Convulse around my cock, begging my body to burst inside yours?”

  “Yes, Sir. Ohhh yes, sir…”

  He changed his position just a little, but a little was all it took to punch her past sanity. As he angled deeper, ramming parts of her that were somehow more sensitive than before, she choked from shock. Every nerve in her body spiked to a strange, spectral frequency, turning her into a creature of energy and ecstasy, of light and lust, of carbon colliding on itself, racing toward a completion so shattering but inevitable that she began to shake.

  Overwhelmed. Decimated. Destroyed.

  Oh…God.

  Where the hell was her blissful mental mist? Her perfect, floating numbness? Why had it dissolved now? This was going to break her apart. He was going to break her apart.

  “It’s all right.” His voice, though still a growl, was redolent with understanding. “It’s all right, sweet girl. Let it happen. Let it all come.”

  Heat stung the backs of her eyes. How did he know? And why did it matter? The only answer she could render was a tight sob, tumbling out as he slammed even deeper into her. Again. Again. Again. Smacking his body to hers. Driving his passion into her. Entwining his energy with hers. Roaring faster toward the explosion…

  “I can’t,” she stammered. “It’s—it’s so much. Too much—”

  “You can.” Like the bastard he was, he flattened a hand between them again. Curled his fingers against the bundle of nerves that shivered so close to where his erection filled her. With every stroke of his hard column, he pressed deeper against her clit, quickly finding the spot that unfurled her from the inside out. “You can, little rose, and you will.” He grunted as she shuddered. “Your cunt is going to come for me, and you’re going to scream through every moment of it…starting now.”

  As if he was the damn president pushing the red bomb button, he tilted his thumb in…setting off the explosion.

  She screamed.

  Loud.

  Hard.

  Forever.

  And then some more, as he blasted her off a second time.

  As the orgasm ripped her clear of any mental mooring, Tess clung even tighter to the chains. The griffin was a man of his word, ramping the cadence of his passion nearly to jackhammer speed. His shaft was a steel rod, his body channeling a power surge. His eyes were blue flames behind the mask, his teeth were gritted white beyond his lips, his shoulders were flexed into stark beauty as the fire in his body roared through more and more of him, building, climbing—

  Then erupting.

  “Fuck.” He threw his head back, exposing his straining neck along with the disk that reddened his skin as its adhesive was tested, until he burst inside her with a merciless groan. “Oh. Fuck. Yes. Good girl. You’re my good, tight little girl.”

  Tess arched toward him, obeying the need to keep as much of him inside her as she could. He kept up his pace, plunging hard and deep for several long minutes, continuing his words of praise and completion and perfection until slowing his speed metal pace to a slow rock beat. Despite that, his penis was still tight against her walls. Was he thinking of going for round two? She was up for it if he was.

  Holy. Shit.

  Correction. “Holy shit” was just the tip of the spear. Not even that. The words barely touched the magic of the sparks still zapping her veins, the tingles still roaming her skin, the thunder still ruling her heart.

  “Wow,” she finally rasped. No wonder Dan always sounded so wistful when he spoke of his lost dungeon days. Was this what it was like all the time? If so, then she only had one regret: that she hadn’t given in and come here a lot sooner.

  Sexy finally leaned out to release one wrist then the other from the restraints. Tess almost threw him a disappointed pout but the concern that radiated from him was a damn good deterrent. He didn’t blink as he carefully watched her, rubbing the circulation back into her arms. “Doing okay?” he asked, soft and gruff. After she nodded, he continued, “Good. Because you’re not going to like me for this part.”

  Apparently, that was his idea of fair warning about removing the nipple clamps.

  “Hoooo-leeee…” She never got to the rest of it. Shrieking oneself hoarse was a tougher gig than it appeared. Didn’t stop her from thinking it. Shit, shit, shit, her breasts had never endured something like this. She’d even thought her “research” gave her a leg up on what to expect from the action, blood rushing back at the speed of light and all that hooey, but she was as “prepared” as Red Riding Hood in the woods—with her own golden, grinning, wicked wolf to show for it.

  “Sorry.” He gently kissed one bright red peak then the other.

  “No, you’re not.”

  He turned the kisses into silky licks. “That was supposed to happen at the same time you climaxed, but I couldn’t rob a second of that orgasm from you.” He raised his head a little, letting the light catch the intensity of his gaze for a moment. “Watching you come like that…” He shook his head. “That was something else, little rose. Thank you.”

  Just like that, her belly borrowed a few Cirque twists. There was no denying the amazement in his voice, but what did it really mean? Something else. What did that term entail to a Dom who’d clearly done this a lot before?

  Tess raised a hand to his face. As soon as her fingers descended, he flinched but didn’t jerk back. The moment, perhaps just five seconds long, was a gift as precious as the last hour with him. He trusted her not to go for his mask, clearly a
s indispensable as armor to him. And she wouldn’t. With a little smile, she simply curled her fingertips into his tawny-colored stubble, needing to touch the man beneath, if only for a few moments.

  “You stole my line, pal,” she quipped. “Aren’t you supposed to let me up now, so I can kneel and thank you?”

  He slanted his head away with a scowl. “Don’t buy into every line from those books, red.”

  “How do you know I’ve been reading books?”

  “How do you know a kid’s gotten into a pail of Crayons?” He jogged a brow. “Scribbling’s on the wall, babe.”

  She couldn’t help giggling. When it escalated to a little snort, she slammed a hand over her mouth and nose. “Oh, my God. I’m sorry. I feel a little weird.”

  He exhaled, seeming amused and concerned at the same time. “Hazy? Kind of buzzed?”

  “Yeah. Exactly.”

  A smiled breached his lips. “Then I’ve done my job.”

  “Did I…do my job, too?” She managed to string it all coherently as he pulled out and discarded the condom, though never fully left her side. Before he answered, Sexy left the dais, regained his footing then swept her into his arms in a traditional let’s-play-wedding-night hold. The irony of it wasn’t wasted on her. They both might as well be naked, with her corset and his jeans barely clinging to their bodies, but she didn’t dare indulge the snicker that tempted, considering how griffin man was suddenly all about solemnity. With determined but gentle steps, he carried her across the room, toward a little alcove containing a palette-style bed, a wash stand, and a wicker basket brimming with blankets.

  Strangely, the sight of the basket made her shiver. When she tossed it off as coincidence, her body rebelled with another. Even nestled against the male muscles that were warm as sunbaked bricks, she couldn’t fight off the tremors. They bristled at her very hair follicles and descended to the tips of her toes.

  Don’t freak. This is normal. So yeah, sometimes the “scribbling” from the books was right. The adrenalin from her orgasm and the endorphins from the pain play, mingling with the gauntlet of nerves, arousal, and excitement she’d just subjected her emotions to, collided like a hundred marbles in a giant jar. She just prayed like hell that her jar didn’t break.