If Corrina were really perfect, she’d stay there until he told her what to do next. Simone had never managed that. She’d have either burst into giggles or been rolling her eyes by now. She was impressed.
“I’m going to get out of here,” she said. “You two need some private time.”
“Wait,” Aidan said, still looking at Corrina, though his hand snaked out to grab Simone’s wrist with unerring accuracy. “Babe, stay. Where do you have to go? Home? Alone? What fun is that?”
She laughed, though it stuttered a little at the grip of his fingers on her wrist. “Just because I like to watch, doesn’t mean I need to see this.”
“It’s been a long time since we played.” Finally, Aidan looked at her. Corrina, in front of him, still held her position with the clamps on her palm. He gave Simone a smile that not even so long ago would’ve charmed her into staying. “Stay.”
“I can’t.”
“Because of him? Corrina. Put the clamps on and go stand by the chair.” To Simone, Aidan said, “I thought you weren’t serious or dating.”
“I’m … we’re not. But that doesn’t mean I want to just randomly join your party, Aidan. Jeeze.” Simone watched Corrina slip out of her bra and put on the clips. They pinched her tender flesh, engorging the nipples. Simone swallowed hard, but looked back at Aidan. “I’m going to go. Thanks for dinner. We’ll get together soon, okay?”
“Wait,” Aidan said before she could get to the front door. “Simone, wait a minute.”
She turned and he leaned in, close. He smelled good, though the cologne was new. He took her by the upper arms, pinching a little, but though she liked pain, she didn’t like that. She pushed him away firmly until he let her go.
“She’s right,” he said quietly, obviously trying not to let Corrina overhear.
Simone didn’t bother to keep her voice down. This whole evening was turning weird. Love and friendship, even like what she and Aidan shared, could only go so far. “About what?”
“I am afraid to break her.”
Simone paused, looking over her shoulder at Corrina, who stood facing away from them, her hands on the back of the chair. “She’s good for you. I can already see that.”
“She’s perfectly submissive. Takes direction. Genuinely wants to please me, but isn’t weak.” Aidan paused to pull Simone a little closer again, and this time, she let him. “You know I don’t want someone who just rolls over and shows her belly.”
Simone had a flashback to the feeling of his hands on her. She’d never been much into the toys and props. Bare flesh on flesh had turned her on more than anything else, though the way those clamps had pinched Corrina’s nipples wouldn’t leave her mind.
“She wants to take whatever I ask of her, Simone, but…”
Simone crossed to the other woman and looked her in the face. “Corrina. You like pain?”
Corrina hesitated, then nodded. Her face had gone very red. Her engorged nipples, a lovely shade of the same. She was breathing pretty fast.
“You don’t love it.”
Corrina blinked, then lowered her eyes. “I love what pleases Aidan.”
“And he likes to give pain.” Among other things. Simone glanced at him, the adorable perv, grinning already with his tongue half hanging out. She rolled her eyes at him again and turned back to Corrina. “So you want to be able to take it.”
“Yes. And I’ve tried, I’d do it. I’d do anything for him.”
“I know you would, sweetheart.” Aidan came up behind Simone to cup Corrina’s chin and kiss her mouth.
“I can’t make someone like what they don’t like,” Simone said to both of them. “I can help you learn to take more than you think you can, though. Which might make you like it better, you never know. If you’re not afraid of it, I mean.”
Corrina shivered and smiled at Simone, the two of them sharing a look that had absolutely nothing to do with Aidan at all. “I like being afraid, Simone.”
Simone brushed some of the hair out of Corrina’s face and leaned in to whisper, “It’s good to know what you like.”
* * *
Aidan would’ve driven her home, but Simone had told him to take care of Corrina, instead. Now she stared out the window of the cab at the city lights, everything a blur because she could scarcely catch her breath. Everything inside her had become an inferno.
It was a fifteen-minute cab ride home, but she told the driver to forget about the address she’d given him first. She gave him another one and thumbed in Elliott’s number, not caring that it was past one in the morning on a work night. Incapable of stopping herself, even though she knew better.
He sounded sleepy when he answered. “… Hello.”
“I’m coming over.”
“Simone?”
“Who else would be calling you at this time of night? Never mind,” she said with a shaky laugh. “Don’t answer that. Yes. It’s me. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
“Simone, it’ll be almost … shit. Two in the morning.”
“Will you open the door for me?”
Elliott sighed, and she pictured him scrubbing at his face. “Yes. Of course I will.”
Her grin felt hot and wild, spreading across her face. Burning across it. Simone leaned back in the seat, letting her knees fall open, slipping a hand up along her thigh, helpless to stop herself from tickling the outside of her pussy through her panties at the memories of what had happened in Aidan’s house.
They had played together a few times with other partners, but it had always been Aidan leading the show. Directing the action. And this time … oh, fuck … Simone shuddered as an icy-hot chill ran down her spine, thinking of everything that had happened.
At Elliott’s door, she knocked loud and hard, but only a couple times before he yanked open the door and ushered her inside. She didn’t wait for him to kiss her, but launched herself into his arms.
“The neighbors,” he muttered as he kicked the door closed behind them.
“Who cares about the neighbors?” She said into his mouth. Arms and legs wrapped around him, she took his lower lip in her teeth and tugged gently. “Take me upstairs, Elliott.”
To give him credit, he did as she asked without another word, carrying her easily up the stairs and down the hall, where he tossed her onto the bed hard enough to knock the headboard against the wall. Simone laughed, rolling on the pillows and pushing up on her elbows to look at him. He wore a pair of flannel pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips and no shirt. Bare feet.
“Your toes,” Simone said, “drive me out of my fucking mind.”
Elliott looked down at them, then at her. “Are you drunk?”
“Nope.” Simone arched, tugging at the hem of her dress to expose her thighs and watching the way his gaze went there at once. “It’s been too long since I had you inside me, Elliott.”
“I was going to call you tomorrow.”
“Too late. I want you now.” She rolled onto her hands and knees, wiggling her ass at him as incentive. “C’mere and put that big, thick cock inside my wet cunt and fuck me until I can’t stand up.”
At the sound of his surprised noise, she looked over her shoulder at him with a grin. “Too much?” Her gaze fell to the obvious thickness of his erection, tenting the front of his pajamas. “Something tells me no.”
“I just … wasn’t expecting…”
He looked so fucking adorable when he was flummoxed, and she was already on fire. Simone hitched up the hem of her dress, exposing the backs of her thighs and what she imagined would be the first hint of her silk panties … there’d be a dark spot on them, she was sure, of where she’d soaked through.
“I want you,” she told him. “I want to make you crazy. I want you to fuck me until we both can’t see straight, Elliott. I want you to fuck me so hard it hurts.”
His hand had gone to the front of his pajama bottoms, rubbing and rubbing. Now the head of his cock peeked out over the top of the waistband. Just that small hint of i
t was enough to make her pussy clench.
Simone groaned and got out of bed, her mind still awhirl with everything that had gone on with Aidan and Corrina, but also the sight in front of her. She kissed him, hard, grinding herself against him until he shuddered and gripped her ass.
“Take my dress off.”
Elliott slipped the shoulder straps down, following the motion of his hands with his mouth. Nibbling and sucking on her flesh as he bared it, he tugged the stretchy fabric over her tits and belly, then off her hips. His lips fastened on her nipples, sucking until Simone let out a low, hoarse cry.
Then, he stopped.
He pulled away, eyes glazed with desire. He licked his lips. His hand went between her legs, thumb stroking her clit while his fingers curved against her.
“I need … something,” Simone whispered.
“What do you need, Simone?”
“Fuck, I love the way you say my name.” She kissed him again, holding on to him tight while he slipped a finger inside her panties.
“You’re so wet,” Elliott breathed. “Oh, shit.”
“I need,” Simone said.
“What do you need? This?” He dragged his teeth across her throat and down to take her nipple between them.
“Yes. Yes, yes…” she lost herself in the growing sparkles of pain the pressure of his teeth caused. But it wasn’t enough. “Wait a minute, baby. Wait.”
She untangled herself from him and went to his closet, where she’d seen the laundry basket once or twice. She found what she wanted in a few seconds and took them out, holding them up to show him. “Put these on me.”
“What?”
She flicked her nipples erect and opened and closed the rubber clothespins in the air. “Put. These. On. Me.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to say no. But then his eyes gleamed. He took the clothespins from her and studied them. He ran his thumb over her nipples, tweaking them even harder than she thought they could be. When he slipped them onto her skin, cupping her breasts to keep them steady, Simone tensed even though she was anticipating and yearning for the sting.
“You’ve done this before,” she whispered.
“No.”
“No? Never?” The weight of the clothespins made her tits bob, and Simone pushed her shoulders back to show off for him. She caught her lower lip in her teeth, breathing softly.
Elliott looked into her eyes. He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her close to him for a deep, lingering kiss that took her breath away. “No. Never. Tell me how it feels.”
He walked her back toward the bed, where he settled her on the edge of it. He pushed her legs open and knelt between them. He ran a thumb over her damp panties and pushed the silk to one side, exposing her.
“It hurts. But everything is centered there, now. In my nipples. Like everything in my body, my blood, everything, is all flowing into my nipples.”
“Not here?” He flicked her clit. Then pinched it lightly.
Simone groaned, head falling back as her hips shifted forward. “That feels good, too.”
“And this?” He smacked her clit sharply.
Laughing, gasping, Simone managed to say, “Yes. Oh. God, yes.”
He tugged a little bit on the clothespins, one at a time, as he slid two fingers inside her. Simone went molten. She writhed. When he bent to flick his tongue along her clit, she shuddered. Her cunt bore down on his fingers, and she thought she was going to come, but he stopped moving just before she did.
“Tell me what you want, Simone.”
“Oh, fuck, Elliott, I want you to fuck me.”
“You want to come?”
She gave another breathless laugh. “Yes. That, too.”
“I want to make you come,” Elliott said, reaching to tug again at one of the clothespins, then the other, until Simone let out a low, guttural shout. “From this.”
When he withdrew his fingers, she let out a frustrated whimper. “Evil.”
Elliott gave her a half smile, tilting his head to study her as though he wasn’t sure just what to make of her. “You are so beautiful, Simone. You know that?”
Her first response was to say ‘of course.’ To play along with him, to keep up the front of self-confidence. But something in the way he’d said it brought emotions surging into her throat stinging the backs of her eyes, and she nodded, silent.
“I’ve been with a lot of women,” he began, and at her snort, he kissed her quiet. “None of them liked … this.”
Another tug on her nipples had her writhing and moaning. “I fucking love it.”
“I know you do. And I want to give it to you. I want to make you come so hard,” Elliott murmured, “you won’t be able to stand for a week.”
All she could do was smile.
“Tell me what you want,” Elliott said. “Tell me what to give you.”
Simone got up from the bed and went to his dresser. Curled in the top drawer was his collection of belts. In leather. One black, one brown. A blue belt of some webbed fabric. That wouldn’t do. She took the black belt, feeling the smooth leather in her fingers. She smelled it, closing her eyes at the scent.
She brought it to him. Held it out. Elliott took it, looking at it with narrowed eyes.
“You don’t have a cane or a whip or a flogger,” she told him. “But this will work.”
She turned and put her hands on the edge of the dresser, a highboy that stood nearly as tall as him. She spread her fingers wide apart. She looked at him over her shoulder.
“When fingers are spread apart, I’m ok. If I need you to ease off, I’ll close them. Like this.” She demonstrated, then gave her head a tiny shake. “I won’t need to close them.”
She turned around. Elliott snapped the belt between his fists. He drew in a short breath.
“You sure about this?”
“I want it, Elliott. I want it from you.”
He let the leather slide down her back. Simone breathed. Waiting for the pain. Everything about her felt swollen. Ready. Waiting. Her clit pulsed. Her cunt ached, empty without his fingers or cock inside her. She pushed her ass back toward him a little, spreading her legs to show him her wet panties.
“Don’t use the buckle,” she told him with a laugh, her eyes closed, head bent.
“I haven’t beaten a woman with my belt before, Simone. That doesn’t mean I don’t have any clue about how to do it.”
She breathed a shuddery, drawn-out sigh. “Ah. Porn?”
His laugh answered that for her. “Shhh.”
She hushed.
She waited.
This moment, before the real pain came, was always both the best and the worst. The rising anticipation. She forced herself not to hold her breath. Not to tense. She forced herself to be patient, though that had never been her nature.
The first smack was too soft. She’d have laughed aloud if she hadn’t been sure that would hurt his feelings too much. He ran a hand over her back, as though testing the mark he’d left, and that sent another spate of shivers all through her.
“Tell me why you like the pain,” Elliott said, and hit her.
Hard.
“Oh, fuck,” she said. “Oh, because … because…”
Again.
“Because when it hurts all I can think about is that!” Simone cried. “And when all I can think about is that, everything else falls away and I can get lost in feeling good…!”
Again the belt came down on her bare skin, and Elliott may never have beaten a woman with his belt before, but he sure as fuck knew how to go about doing it just right. Over and over, each blow placed just a little lower than the first, though he stayed far away from her lower back, where hitting her kidneys would’ve done more than make her hurt for a little while.
The pain built until she thought she couldn’t stand it anymore, but there was always just a little more that she could take. Every so often, Elliott paused to pass a hand down her back, as though testing the welts. And then, once, he kissed her sho
ulder where it hurt particularly bad.
She gasped at the pressure of his lips on flesh gone so sensitive all it took was the brush of his mouth to send a fresh wave of pleasure pain through her. His hand slid between her legs. Fingers inside, though not touching her clit, and he didn’t move them. Not even to stroke in and out of her.
“I want to feel it when you come,” he told her.
“Kiss me there again.”
He did.
She came. Hard enough to weaken her knees. Yes. Hard enough that her fingers slipped and scrabbled on the edge of the dresser when she almost fell from the force of it. Turning her, Elliott caught her up and found her mouth with his. He kissed her hard enough to bruise her lips while his fingers stayed deep inside her, and she came and came and came.
Trembling, breathless, feeling a little woozy and sick, Simone shook in his arms. She clung to him and wept, not from fear or pain, but from simple, sheer release. Elliott scooped her up and carried her to the bed, where he sat down and cradled her on his lap.
Simone tucked her head against him, letting herself come down from all of it. His cock had softened, though when she shifted on his lap it gave a flattering throb. She reached between them to stroke him as best she could.
“I want you to feel good, too,” she whispered.
Elliott tensed for a second. Then gave an embarrassed laugh. “Um.”
Surprised, Simone pushed away a little to look at him. “You … did?”
“You were so sexy,” he told her, not looking her in the eyes.
She took his chin in her hand and turned him until he met her gaze. “Elliott. Did you come in your pants when you were beating me with that belt?”
He smiled.
She smiled, too, and kissed him. Then she let him hold her close while neither of them said anything else.
* * *
Elliott woke to full daylight and the smell of coffee and bacon. His sheets had tangled around his feet, and he tossed around in bed for a moment or so, disoriented. Wincing at the ache in his shoulder muscles, everything from last night–hell, it had been only a few hours ago, really–came back to him. He sat straight up in bed.