Lisa Renee Jones - 12 Shades Of Surrender - Bound

“Ouch. Not even an adult rabbit but a baby bunny.”

“Yup.” She reached up and grazed his cheek. He really was unnecessarily handsome.

“That bad, is he?”

Eleanor shook her head. “That good.”

Daniel laughed. “I keep forgetting who I’m dealing with. The Queen of Kink.”

“I’m a trained submissive. More like King’s Consort. I’m not worthy to hold actual rank,” she said with a wink.

“Well, I’m honored to consort with you.”

Eleanor gave him her best wicked grin. “Then consort with me already.”

Daniel grinned back. “Yes, ma’am.” He looked her up and down and something changed in his eyes like he suddenly had a very good idea.

“Where are you going?” Eleanor asked when Daniel stood and moved to leave.

“To get supplies. Stay.”

Eleanor stayed flat on her back in front of the fireplace. She closed her eyes and wondered what sordid things Daniel did to his wife on this rug. She opened her eyes and saw Daniel standing over her. He sat a tube of lubricant and a towel on the floor by her hip. Deliberately he began to roll up the right sleeve of his shirt.

Eleanor didn’t have to wonder anymore.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” she said, her heart racing.

“Does it look like I’m kidding?” Daniel dropped to his knees. He eased her pajama pants down her legs and tossed them aside. With a flourish he unfurled the towel and slid it under her hips.

“Surely he’s done this to you before,” Daniel said.

“He has … on special occasions.”

Daniel pried her knees apart. “Consider this a special occasion. Now are you intimidated?”

Eleanor took a deep breath. “Yeah. Happy?”

“Very.”

She took another breath and stared blankly at the ceiling. She flinched at Daniel’s first touch. “Sorry. That stuff is cold.”

“I know. But it’s necessary. Just relax.”

“The guy always says relax. Would you be relaxed if someone were about to stick their whole hand in you?”

“I can’t say I would be relaxed, but I’m quite certain I wouldn’t be argumentative.”

“Point taken.”

Daniel stopped touching her. “Close your eyes,” he ordered softly. “Just breathe in and out. Tell me if anything hurts.”

She nodded but didn’t answer. She began to breathe slowly—in … then out, in … then out. She could do this, had done this. If she was being honest she’d even admit that she loved this.

Daniel’s fingers returned to her. He pressed her outer lips apart with his left hand while he pushed two fingers from his right hand deep inside her. Eleanor kept breathing. She’d learned the secret. She knew she couldn’t allow herself to become too aroused. The vaginal muscles tightened when aroused. She had to stay calm, empty herself, let him completely in, push nothing but fear out. The perfect passive act for a true submissive.

Inside her Daniel made slow spirals with his hand … spiraling outward pressing against her inner walls, opening her until three then four fingers were inside her.

“Are you okay?” Daniel asked, gentle concern in his voice.

“Very okay.”

“Are you ready?” She didn’t have to ask him ready for what….

“Yes.”

If the four fingers filled her, it was nothing compared to the sensation of his whole hand, his whole fist inside her. Her calm broke for a moment and she gasped at how he now filled her. She spread her thighs wider, pressed hard into his hand. She felt her own fluid cool and slick on her thighs.

Daniel barely moved. He didn’t need to. Eleanor writhed around his hand, her body torn between the twin needs to push him out or pull him in deeper and deeper.

She leaned up and gripped her own knees. For the first time she looked down and saw Daniel’s wrist deep inside her. She collapsed on her back, lifted her hips and orgasmed so fiercely even Daniel gasped.

As she panted, he pulled gingerly out of her. He used the corner of the towel underneath her to dry his hand. He rolled her onto her stomach, Eleanor limp as a rag doll. She felt the cold liquid on her again, this time inside her ass. Then it was Daniel inside her thrusting hungrily. She was too tired to enjoy it. She merely waited patiently underneath him as he used her for his own pleasure and spent himself inside her once and then again when once proved inadequate to sate his appetite for her.

Finally they lay naked, near each other, sore and tired and smiling.

“I was thinking,” Eleanor said turning to drape herself over Daniel’s chest.

“Always a dangerous pursuit … what were you thinking?”

“Your wife. I know she died of cancer but still—”

“Still what?”

“I kind of envy her.”

Eleanor spent the next three days in a haze of sex and books and happiness. There was no room of the house they did not christen; there was nothing they were afraid or unwilling to do to each other. The fog grew so thick that Eleanor had to keep reminding herself what day it was and how long she’d been there. Arrived on Saturday, today was Wednesday, leave on Friday … leave on Friday.

Wednesday night Daniel came for her and brought her back to his bedroom. He stripped her naked and left her standing by the bedpost. She relaxed and breathed knowing exactly what was coming.

“Tell me your safe word, Eleanor,” Daniel commanded as he yanked her arms behind her back, bent her over the bed, and put bondage cuffs on each wrist.

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Do your worst. You won’t hear it.”

“Arrogant, aren’t we?”

“Not arrogant at all,” she countered. “Just very well-trained, sir.”

He pulled her up to her feet and chained her arms high over her head to the bedpost. The first blows of the flogger landed on her back softly. Daniel was well-trained too. A long hard beating was always prefaced by a gentle one to desensitize the skin. Breathing in and out slowly, she let the pain wash over her as she’d been trained to do. The pressure intensified, the pain grew. Daniel paused only long enough to penetrate her from behind with short hard thrusts. He came on her thighs, pulled roughly out of her, picked up the flogger, and beat her again.

An hour later he finally released her and let her fall to the floor. He was everywhere with vicious hands and probing fingers. He bit at her neck and breasts and thrust until she nearly cried from the mix of pleasure and pain. She felt Daniel coming more and more back to life every time he took her. Pushing her onto her stomach, he forced himself into her again. Her thighs were wet as his fluid mingled with hers. Her back burned with welts. Underneath him, pinned to the floor, a part of her wanted to stay there forever.

An hour … three hours later … she lost track of time. She forgot her name, forgot where she was … and most dangerously forgot momentarily who she belonged to. Bucking her hips hard into Daniel’s, Eleanor came so hard he gasped from the intensity of the muscle contractions that gripped him like a hand. When Daniel came, it was with a force that tore into her stomach and sent her calling out his name. For a long time after they lay tangled together, Daniel still inside her.

She lay in his arms and tried not to say what she knew needed said.

“I leave Friday morning.” It wasn’t a reminder or a taunt. She just had to say it to remember it was true.

“Friday,” Daniel said, leaning over her to blow out the two candles that burned on the bedside table. A clear signal that it was time for sleep. “Still time.”

Daniel eased into the covers and pulled Eleanor close to him.

“Time for what?” she asked, already half asleep.

“Time to change your mind.”

Daniel and Eleanor spent the next morning finishing his library. All the books had been recoded and properly shelved. The work progressed quickly as, for once, Eleanor toiled in silence. She couldn’t get Daniel’s words out of her mind. He wanted her to stay with him … here in his exquisite prison. It was unthinkable. She belonged to someone else, belonged to him like her heart belonged to her chest. She would no more leave him than she would amputate her own arm. Unthinkable … and yet, she was thinking about it.