Cherise Sinclair - Dark Citadel

She sighed, her muscles softening as need overcame her fears.

She was a challenge, and he hadn't enjoyed anyone so much in ages. He could see the passion in her, locked deep inside all those habits and rules. Even more, he could see she was sweet down to the bone, much like Marion had been. But different. Marion had enjoyed her passions; this little sub had definitely been raised by nuns.

Enfolding her in his arms, he pressed her back onto the couch. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling his lips back to hers. He nuzzled her neck, enjoying the light fragrance—softly floral with a woman's subtle musk beneath. He wanted to explore further, to find all the places on her body where her scent was strongest.

He would get there, step-by-step.

As he deepened the kiss, she gave him anything he asked for, sucking his tongue into her mouth, giving him hers in return.

When he drew back to lean on his elbow, she made a little sound of disappointment. He studied her for a moment. A pulse beat fast in her neck; her lips were appealingly swollen and red, and her eyes heavy lidded with passion.

She was ready for more. Keeping his gaze on her, he set his hand under her long dress, slowly stroking up and down her leg, ever more upward, until he could set his palm on her crotch. She jumped a little, but he didn't move. He could feel the warmth from her pussy radiating outward. Her panties were damp, and he had to smother the urge to strip them off and bury himself inside her heat.

First things first. He wondered if she'd ever remember the hour limit they'd started with. Nine o'clock was long past.

He caught her gaze—a little dazed, fully aroused. But if he didn't keep her off balance and moving forward, all that modesty and restraint would return. Time to let her discover the joy—and anxiety—of vulnerability. “Lower the top of your dress.”

Her breath hitched, and she tried to look around, but he caught her chin and lifted his eyebrows. “What do you say to me?”

“Yes, Sir.” Her delicate fingers undid the buttons down to the waist. He watched with a steady gaze as she glanced at him before sitting up and pulling her arms out of the dress.

He enjoyed the sight of her, his pleasure increasing as she flushed. So modest. Stripping would be one of the hardest tasks he could set her. But well worth it for him. She was a visual treat with her breasts almost overflowing the lacy white bra.

“You have lovely shoulders, Kari.” He leaned forward so he could kiss his way across the pale white skin. She had little freckles scattered across her shoulders. He licked them and could swear they tasted like sugar. Since he was in the right place, he obligingly undid her bra. “Remove this.”

She slid it from her arms and leaned forward to place it, neatly folded, on the coffee table.

There were reasons he loved women who were bigger than stick figures, and here were two of the finest reasons: abundant, lovely breasts with pale pink nipples. Under his gaze, those nipples contracted. He touched them with just his fingertips, watched them tighten even further. “When I'm through tasting these, they will be as hard as pencil erasers and a lovely dark red.”

He waited for her blush, grinned, and stroked her heated cheek.

“Yes, exactly that color.” He let his hand slide down—not like he was able to stop it—under one breast, savoring the heaviness. With his fingers, he swept in a circle around one breast, then the other, never touching either nipple, tormenting until she arched her chest forward for more.

“You are still overdressed, sweetheart. Remove your panties.”

This time the hesitation was longer. He lifted her chin with one finger and gave her a firm look. “What do you say to me?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispered and stood. Her fingers trembled as she pulled up the dress. Her briefs were white, but low cut and lacy. Soft and innocent and sexy like Kari herself.

He knew she was no virgin, but she might as well be, given that her deeper passions had never been explored.

She pushed her panties to the floor, stepped out. The folded panties joined her bra on the coffee table. Tidy little sub.

“Good girl.” He grabbed a fistful of the dress she still wore and pulled her between his knees. Trembling and soft, lush, and sweet. Submissive .

And all his for the moment.

Kari shook inside, feeling far too vulnerable. He was still dressed; she was half-naked. Yet every time he ordered her to do something with a voice that would accept only compliance, she got more excited. Wetter.

Now his knees pinned her in place as he gazed at her body. His eyes were so hot, so hungry, that she brought her hands up to cover her breasts.

He caught her arms, gave her a disapproving look, and pulled her hands down. “This is my body to play with this evening, little sub. Keep your hands down at your sides. In fact, put them behind your back and lace your fingers together.” His rich baritone deepened. “What do you say to me?”

“Yes, Sir.” She complied. Her hands behind her back made her breasts arch forward, almost right in his face.

He hummed in pleasure, leaned forward, and took one nipple into his mouth. His mouth was hot, lips firm, and as his tongue swirled around the nipple, she moaned, shocking herself.

When she tried to move back, he put an arm behind her. Fastening his grip over her laced fingers, he pulled her closer. His mouth tightened and his tongue rubbed her nipple against the roof of his mouth. Heat stabbed straight down to her core.

Then his free hand possessed her other breast, rolling the nipple between firm fingers.

“Oh, God.” Her vision blurred. She needed to move, to do something as an ache of longing burst in her lower body.

His grip tightened.

“You have magnificent breasts, Kari. I'm going to enjoy them tonight.” His dark brown eyes looked at her, studied her.

She looked away. This was a bar room, not a bedroom. No doors, no bed. That just wasn't right.

Even worse, she was taking a man's orders and…she liked it. Oh, she did. Each time he set those dark eyes on her, her insides softened until now her lower half felt like warm Jell-O. She didn't seem to have any control over her own body.

Releasing her, he moved to the chair. “Come and sit on my lap. You look like you need a hug,” he said softly. He pulled her onto his lap and leaned her against his big chest. His heart thudded beneath her ear, slow and steady, as his arms snuggled her tighter. His hands were gentle as he stroked her back and arms until she relaxed against him, feeling like a pampered pet. She rubbed her forehead against his chest with a sigh.

“Not so bad, is it?” he murmured.

“Guess not.”

“Good. Then we'll continue.” Before she could respond, he tilted her back until her shoulders rested on the chair arm with her bottom on his lap.

“Hey!” She struggled to sit up, but he set a hand between her breasts.

“You stay where I put you, little sub,” he growled, mouth flattening.

She froze. Her heart sped up as she got that strange, melting feeling again.

The corner of his mouth turned up. “You like being bossed around, don't you.”

It wasn't a question and required no answer, thank heavens.

His eyes glinted with amusement. “We'll talk about that later. For now, you are in a very nice position.” He set his hands on her breasts, stroking and massaging, teasing her nipples until they were tight and swollen and aching.

And that was before he put his mouth on her. He sucked on each nipple, rolling the peaks. He nipped one, and she gasped as a current of heat shot from her breast to her groin. Her private areas were wet, embarrassingly wet, and throbbing.

“You taste sweet,” he murmured, then shook his head. “And you're making me forget my job here. Give me your wrists.”