Page 42 of T is for…

Even within the safety and structure of a BDSM scene, she wouldn’t have agreed to something like this with anyone but Nathan. Nathan who always had, and maybe always would, make her feel safe.

She wasn’t even sure what the term was for what she wanted—was this primal play? Some sort of intro consensual non-consent? The part of her brain that was always running and analyzing wanted to ask, to define this liquid-heat need to confront him, challenge him, until he took control.

A larger part of her, mostly her pussy, told her brain to shut up and not ruin this for them.

Tara dipped her chin in the tiniest of nods, confirming that this is what she wanted.

Nathan lunged.

She’d expected him to move, but his speed shocked her, and on instinct, Tara scrambled back a few steps, back smacking into the wall.

Nathan’s hands slapped the wall on either side of her head, the sound shocking. She sucked in air and stared at his lips.

When they quirked in a smile, she leaned forward and bit his lower lip, just hard enough to make him jerk back in surprise. Then she ducked under his arm, racing for the door to the bathroom.

Nathan made a sound low in his chest. It was probably technically a groan, but her brain decided to label it a growl, and that made her nipples hard. New fetish unlocked, apparently.

But was it really a new fetish if she was already sure that the only person she’d ever want to explore it with was her best friend? Could a fetish be tied to a single person?

“Your ass ready for what’s about to happen when I catch you?”

Tara grabbed the mission-style footboard of the bed as she passed it, using it as a pivot point to turn to face him. “Is that what you’re going to do if you catch me?” she taunted. “Another spanking?”

Nathan stalked forward one step at a time, like a big cat. This was how she’d expected him to come at her before. “Among other things.”

“You keep mentioning these other things.” Tara took two sideways steps as he approached the foot of the bed. There was a three-foot gap between the headboard and the wall. The bed wasn’t exactly centered in the room, but its placement allowed Doms and Masters easy access to the restraint points in the headboard, and every part of whomever they had on the bed.

She wanted to be that person on the bed, enough that she seriously considered abandoning this game of cat and mouse to throw herself onto the mattress like a good submissive, in the hope that it would get his hands on her faster.

As Nathan took another slow, deliberate step—one she matched with a sideways step toward the head of the bed—she dismissed the idea. She had, and would, willingly give him control, but right now she wanted him to take it.

“Your ass won’t be the only thing I spank,” he assured her.

That caused her to pause and think, and Nathan gained a step.

“Tit spanking?”

“Tit torture actually. So you might want to run.” Nathan lunged, once again startling her into flight.

Tara rounded the top corner of the bed, the soles of her flats slipping a little on the hardwood floor. She took a second to kick them off and that ended up being her downfall.

Nathan had reversed course while she’d been looking at her feet. She’d expected him to be behind her, so the instant her shoes were off, she sprinted forward, rounding the other top corner. But Nathan had doubled back around the foot of the bed.

Tara yelped when she realized he was in front of her and tried to backpedal.

Long arms reached out, gripping her shoulders. He yanked her forward, her chest slapping against his, her head tipped back so she could look up at him, her gaze sliding down to his lips then back up to his eyes. Tara grabbed his hips, digging her fingers into the leather, but didn’t try to push him away.

Nathan smiled, spun them both a quarter turn, and shoved her back. Tara fell onto the bed, her back arched, toes on the floor. Her hands lost their hold on him to bounce down at her sides.

Then Nathan was on top of her, strong hands wrapping around her wrists and pinning her hands beside her head. The toe of one boot wiggled between her bare ankles and kicked her legs wide.

Tara tugged against his hold, even as she raised her legs, hooking her ankles together behind his back. He sank forward, the leather of his pants squeaking against the vinyl gusset that covered her pussy. The pressure against her sex, her clit, was enough to have her moaning and arching up into him even as she continued a perfunctory struggle against his hold on her wrists.

Nathan slid her hands up above her head, stacking her wrists so he could grip them both in one hand. His now-free hand gripped her face, palm under her chin, his fingers and thumb pressing into her cheeks. Tara panted through parted lips, only to have Nathan apply pressure, forcing her mouth open wider.

The way he was touching her would have been horrifying in any other circumstance, and with any other man. With Nathan, it made her almost feverish with arousal. A flush swept down her body, and she moaned low in her throat.

Nathan forced her chin up and to the side, exposing her neck. He kissed her just under her ear, then licked the flesh he’d just kissed.

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