Dangerous Control Read online

  She spread her legs wider and whispered, “I want you to hurt me.”

  And that was the end of all my control.

  Chapter Ten: Alice

  I could hardly think. I could barely breathe. My hands made fists as Milo thrust deep inside me, stretching me, driving to the hilt.

  Don’t let go of me, please, don’t let go, don’t let go…

  No, he wasn’t letting go. He held me down with his hands and his body, making me take the thickest cock I’d seen in my life—even in porn—deep inside my pussy. No apologies, no restraint, but I didn’t care. When I squirmed to accommodate him, his legs forced mine wider, and his thrusts jarred me, lifting me from the bed. My clit throbbed each time he entered me, and some hyper-stimulated spot inside my walls made me shudder. Sex wasn’t supposed to feel this wild and crazy—or maybe it was, and I just never knew it.

  Was it this crazy because we’d waited so long? Was that why our joining felt like something happening on some elevated plane? His body covered mine, muscular and hard, commanding, frightening, so wonderfully frightening. Our hips rocked together, and every time he entered me and left me, there was a greater shock of pleasure. I was building to a frantic climax, but it was too soon to come yet.

  I struggled against him, like that might hold off the explosion inside me, but I was too far gone. My orgasm came so hard and fast that I couldn’t even cry out. I gasped as my pussy walls clenched around his shaft, as wave after wave of pleasure drowned my senses. He slowed, pressing hard in me as the ripples strung out.

  “Look at me,” he said through clenched teeth. “Look at me while you’re coming.”

  I stared into his dark eyes, which only increased my climax’s intensity. I knew him so well, I could read all his feelings—excitement, pleasure, pride. As soon as the orgasm ebbed enough for me to speak, I said, “I came too soon. I wanted more.”

  “Oh, you’re going to get more.” He drew out of me in a long, slow slide, maximizing the friction, then pushed in just as slow. Now that the frenzy of my first orgasm had passed, I was able to focus on details I’d missed before, like the feel of his flexing abs against my stomach, and the sensual way he parted his lips.

  “Are you ever going to kiss me?” I whispered, looking at those lips.

  “Jesus Christ.”

  He lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me hard, and now that my hands were free, I kissed him back, feeling our connectedness, not just physically, but emotionally. His lips played over mine, his tongue darting between my teeth as his cock throbbed inside me. He was so forcefully erotic, but it felt like the most natural thing in the world, because I’d always known he was like this. I might not have known the particulars, but I knew the general gist.

  Hurt me, I thought, when he grabbed a handful of my hair. My braids were in tatters, and he pulled out the elastics so the rest of them would come loose. He wasn’t gentle about it either, and I loved that. He yanked back my head, pressing his lips to my neck, and then kissed me again on the mouth, hard, harder, biting my lips. I couldn’t breathe because of all the passion, all the violence. No, I couldn’t breathe because he was choking me, squeezing my neck. When I realized it, I looked at him in a panic, and he let me go.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, a breathless gasp. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “Let’s go to your dungeon. Please.”

  “No. Absolutely not.”

  He was still inside me, looking down at me with a strange, fond kind of dread. He pulled out and made me turn over. I fumbled, heavy with passion, not wanting to lose our connection. He slapped my ass when I looked back over my shoulder, then put his hands on my hips.

  All I wanted was to please him, to be in the right position to satisfy him, so when he pulled me into the stance he liked, I didn’t care that his fingers left dots of pain behind. My ass cheek felt hot where he’d slapped it, and I wondered what it would be like to feel more—to feel one of the scary implements in his dungeon, the straps or paddles or whips, while I was tied to one of those racks.

  He thrust inside me again, holding my hips in his huge hands. His thumbs dug into my ass cheeks and stayed there, too close to my asshole for comfort. If some other guy did that to me, I would have turned over, disentangled myself and said, no thanks, this isn’t for me. But with Milo, I waited to see what he would do, if he would fondle me there, or press a finger inside, or put his cock there…

  God, no, that wouldn’t be possible. Would it? I hated the idea, but I also wanted him to do it, to make me take it.

  But he’d said he wouldn’t hurt me. His cock felt too good again, too wonderful. My hair fell down in my face, obscuring my vision, as he banged into me from behind. One of his hands left my hip and the fingers latched onto my nipple instead, squeezing hard, causing excruciating pain.

  I cried out, but it wasn’t a pained cry. It was a sex cry. I put my hand over his, tilting off balance. I fell onto my stomach and he fell over me, thrusting even deeper now that I was pinned. My other breast was grabbed and pinched until my nipple ached. My lips fell open, not to beg for mercy, but to let out broken sobs. Even as he hurt me, I shoved my hips back against him with more force. The harder he pinched my nipples, the harder I fucked my pussy on his cock.

  “You like when I hurt you,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. His growl rumbled in my ear, and then he bit my earlobe. I squirmed under him, unmoored from any sense of reality.

  “Please, more,” I begged. “Hurt me more.”

  “No.”

  “Please. I want it.”

  He grasped my neck, not choking me this time, but holding me on the edge, so I couldn’t move without him letting me. His other hand doubled my hair over in his fist as he banged into me. “Come for me, if you like this,” he ordered. “Come again on my cock, harder this time.”

  I felt his teeth latch onto my ear, felt the same sense of panic and surrender that any prey might feel when cornered by a predator. The adrenaline was there too, pushing me into a second orgasm as his cock plundered me, turning me inside out.

  “Yes, yes,” I cried, squeezing on his length as he tightened his grip on my hair. “I can’t…”

  I can’t bear it. I can’t survive this. I can’t stop coming when you’re inside me.

  He let out a ragged breath and drove deep, bracing his knees on the bed between mine. He let go of my neck and hair and pulled at me instead, cinching his arms around my waist so I couldn’t escape his final thrusts, no matter how hard and brutal they were. I arched my back, letting him drive even deeper before he finished his orgasm and fell still.

  He lay on top of me for a few moments, braced on his elbows. His long hair tickled my back as he placed kisses between my shoulder blades. Although I was exhausted, my pussy still gripped him, unwilling to let our connection end.

  “Don’t move,” he said in a low, jagged growl. “Don’t get me started again.”

  “I don’t mind if you get started again.”

  “Hush.” He sounded angry, as angry as he’d been about me trespassing in his dungeon, but he also stroked me gently, smoothing my hair where he’d fisted it into knots. “I didn’t want this, Alice. It’s not going to end well.”

  I started to move. He muffled a curse and reached down to pull out, taking care with the condom. So protective, for all his talk of hurting me. I put my arms around his neck. “Why does it have to end?”

  He pressed his cheek against mine so I couldn’t look in his eyes. “We can’t do this. We shouldn’t do this.”

  But we could. We had. “I want to do more,” I said. “Everything, all night. Teach me what you love, and if it’s something I don’t know, I’ll learn how to do it. I know you’re a Dominant, Milo, and I want to be your submissive. Just show me what to do.”

  He closed his eyes, like I was causing him pain. “I told you, no dungeon. No.”

  “Why not? Please.” I knew a thing or two about him from our years of friendship, and I knew more now. He couldn’t resist
me, not if I really begged him. “Please, pretty please? Just show me a few things. The night is young.”

  *

  “Don’t,” he said, when I reached down to pick up my panties before we left his bedroom. “If you’re going to come to my dungeon…” His gaze ran over my naked body, burning it with his intensity. “If you go there with me, you’re all mine. Nothing between us.”

  No panties, no clothes. Nothing civilized. That was what he meant. He took my hand and dragged me down the hall, the sheen of anger still on him, along with power and desire. Now that we were actually going to his dungeon, he was letting a little more of his dominant side out. He’d looked over my body with an attitude of ownership, and Jesus, the way that made me feel…

  Alice, babes, do you have any idea what you’re getting into?

  No, I didn’t. I couldn’t think about that, or I’d lose my nerve. When Milo ushered me through the forbidden door, Blue hung back, then disappeared down the hallway, declining to come in.

  “He’s not allowed in here,” said Milo, as we watched him go. “You shouldn’t be, either.”

  “I’m sure you’ll take care of me.”

  He pursed his lips and turned on a few of the lights, then told me, “Stay.” He moved farther into the silent chamber of furniture and racks while I stared at his naked body. Scary, that he looked bigger and more daunting with his clothes off than on. His cock was a big part of it. Even half-hard, it looked formidable.

  He stopped by the pair of cuffs hanging down from the ceiling in the middle of the dungeon. “Come here. This is as good a place to start as any.”

  To start. A start implied a continuation. Well, if I survived this. I was kind of disappointed I wasn’t going to be more tied down, like on the padded bench or the X-shaped rack, but he was the one in charge.

  “Raise your hands,” he said in a gruff voice that already had my pussy flowing. He buckled my wrists into the cuffs, not looking in my eyes, although I watched his expression for any change in his features. If he was nervous, like me, he didn’t show it. Of course he’s not showing it. You’re new to this, but he’s done it a thousand times.

  He stood back when my hands were bound in the air, and I did see a bit of worry in his features. Worry and lust. He circled me as my toes shifted on the smooth wood floor. “How does that feel?” he asked.

  I thought a moment. “Scary, but good.”

  “What now? Do you want me to beat you? Make you cry?”

  I sucked in a breath. “I don’t know. Do what you like. What you usually do.”

  “What if you hate what I usually do?” I felt his touch at my back and I flinched. “What if you hate it and you can’t get away?”

  I shook my head, trembling at his closeness. “I don’t know.”

  “If you hate it, you use a safe word.”

  Oh yes, I remembered reading about safe words while I waited for him to come home. BDSM culture was very big on safe words.

  I turned to look at him, wanting to curl myself against him, but he stood rigidly away from me, his cock erect. “What safe word should I use?” I asked.

  “Lala,” he said, like he’d already thought about it. “As many times as it takes to make me stop. Lala lala lala lala lala, like you’re singing. I know you hate that name.”

  “Yes, I do. I’ll never use it.”

  “Brave words,” he said, raising an eyebrow. Finally, he came close enough to touch me, tracing fingers down my cheeks and across my chin. “This would be enough for me, you know. Seeing you like this, bound and scared.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m not sure if it’s enough for me.”

  “You’ve never done anything like this?” he asked, although I’d already confessed my ignorance.

  “It’s all new,” I said in a soft voice. “But I’m ready.”

  He leaned in and kissed me, his hands cupping my breasts. His cock poked against my belly and I felt another wave of arousal between my legs. All too soon, he broke the kiss. “Here are the ground rules when we play,” he said. “You don’t try to get away from the things I do to you. If it hurts, that’s too bad. Understand? Answer ‘Yes, Sir.’ In this dungeon, I’m always ‘Sir.’”

  “Yes, Sir.” I was getting so turned on from his words, I was afraid the moisture in my pussy would start running down my leg.

  “No asking me to stop. You can cry, scream, or tremble, but no whining or asking for a reprieve. You won’t get it.”

  I swallowed hard. “Yes, Sir.”

  “In this dungeon, you’re mine until you use a safe word.” His hand traced down my back and over my ass cheek, then he squeezed a handful of it. “Your ass is mine,” he said. He slapped one of my breasts, and I gasped. “Your tits are mine. Open your mouth.” I did, and he thrust a finger inside it. “Your mouth is mine. Your lips are mine, your tongue is mine. Got it?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said around his finger in garbled agreement. He removed his finger, but our gazes stayed locked.

  “Are you ready? You’re sure you want this?” he asked, his eyes dangerously intent.

  “Yes, Sir.” Please fuck me. Oh God, I’m about to die here. “Yes, please, Sir.”

  He broke our stare-down and walked over to the cabinets along the wall, returning with a pair of silver clamps. He slapped my left breast, then my right. I flinched, unused to so much sensation. So much roughness. After he slapped them both a couple times, he yanked on my nipples. They were hard from fear more than anything, and he pinched them and twisted them, then clamped them, one after the other. The whole process took a few seconds, but the pain…

  “Oh God,” I whispered. No begging, no whining, no entreating him to take them off. If it hurts, that’s too bad. He moved back to the cabinets, leaving the silver clips dangling from my nipples, causing cascades of pain to shoot through my breasts. I gritted my teeth as he opened a drawer, removing a thin, supple strap with a handle.

  Okay, okay, you’re okay. I breathed through my teeth, preparing myself. It wasn’t that big of an implement. He wasn’t going to break anything, well, aside from my nipples, which throbbed from the clamps. He moved behind me.

  “Spread your legs,” he instructed. “Spread them as wide as you can, so you can brace yourself. I don’t want any hopping or turning around.”

  “Yes, Sir.” My voice quavered. My legs trembled as I inched them apart.

  “Wider,” he said impatiently.

  I spread them as wide as I could with my arms stretched over me. The first lick of the strap caught me by surprise. It wasn’t unbearable, no, but it stung like hell, and I jumped and twisted sideways.

  “Nope,” he said, turning me back again. “I was going to start you out with five, but you just earned five more. I’ll say it again. No turning or hopping. Keep your feet flat on the ground. You said you wanted this.”

  Yes, I had. I could keep my feet still if I tried. I really wanted to try.

  “Spread your legs the way you’re supposed to, Alice, and behave this time,” he said. “You have nine more, if you’re good.”

  Nine sounded like plenty. I braced to be still, and when the next stinging blow came, I curled my toes, but didn’t move them.

  “That’s better,” he said. The positive feedback was nice, but my nipples were killing me and I had eight more strap strokes to go. I reached my hands around to grasp the chains above me. Each stroke he dealt was successively harder, but the threat of more pain kept my feet rooted to the floor, even when my body’s natural impulse was to try to escape the stinging punishment. Six. Seven. Eight. I counted them in my head as he doled them out in a controlled, steady stream. Nine hit me right between the cheeks. Oww. Ten was the hardest of all, and I jumped.

  “That’s five more,” he said.

  Shit, shit, shit. I tensed my body—and my butt cheeks—so I wouldn’t jump my way up to twenty. Or twenty-five. Or thirty. Just thinking about it made me want to cry. My ass burned from the first ten strokes. How long had it been since he started on me? Two
minutes? Three? Could I take five more licks? Would this scene go on for half an hour? An hour? How much pain could I take?

  I felt his hand on my neck, then in my hair, grasping it and giving me a little shake. “Your ass is mine, remember? Your body is mine. All you have to do is let it happen.”

  Let it happen. Give your body to him, your stinging ass cheeks and your smarting nipples. He owns you right now. He was making that perfectly clear. There was no tenderness in this Milo, no protectiveness. This pain was what he’d been trying to protect me from—he clearly enjoyed doling it out.

  “I’m trying to be still,” I said on a sob.

  “Then be still.”

  He let go of my hair, and another strap stroke lit my ass on fire. I wanted to turn and look over my shoulder. Just looking at him would have calmed me, but I wasn’t allowed to turn around. I realized now that this kind of bondage was much worse than a spanking bench or a rack, where I’d be tied so I couldn’t turn or move, even if I wanted to.

  Then I realized why we were starting this way. Because taking the pain had to be my choice. I had to stand here and endure it on my own steam, without anything holding me down.

  After that, I had no problems standing still, even if my ass cheeks still clenched with each merciless lick. I was proud of myself, but my only reward was to have the nipple clamps removed—which caused a great deal of pain in itself. He placed them on a nearby table, then reached over my head to release my cuffed wrists from the chains. I wondered for a moment if we were done, but he wasn’t acting like we were done.

  “Stretch your arms for a moment, then put your hands behind you,” he said shortly.

  I obeyed, getting the circulation flowing with a few arm and shoulder rolls, then reaching behind me where he waited. He took my wrists in firm fingers, and a couple clicks later, my arms were bound behind me in cuffs.

  “Are you having fun?” he asked, his lips against my ear.

  What else could I say? “Yes, Sir.”

  He gave a soft laugh and nudged me forward onto my knees. I went down, my hurting, strapped ass cheeks feeling exposed and vulnerable. I tried to soothe them with my palms as I knelt, but Milo grabbed the cuffs and gave me a rough rattle of control.