He couldn't wait.
The heavy weight of the stares from the crowd only jacked up the arousal and anticipation of what was to come. Cara trembled, and he pulled her to him, lifting her chin up so she was forced to face him.
"I intend to worship you, Cara. Give you pleasure. Make you come. Prove you've always been mine."
He swallowed her sweet gasp with his mouth over hers. Plunging his tongue between her lips, he drank up her essence and taste, drowned in sweetness, and came back whole. When he pulled away, she looked back with dazed eyes, and he slowly released her and took a step back.
"Present yourself."
With graceful motions, she pulled the tiny lace top over her head, folded it neatly, and lay it down. Her bare breasts hung heavy and ripe. Red nipples begged for his tongue and teeth, already hard and swollen with need. She stepped out of her skirt, placed it on top of the shirt, and knelt before him. Legs widespread, arms clasped behind her, she humbled herself before him with dignity and a searing beauty that branded him for life.
"You are beautiful. Do you know that?"
"I am if you think so, Sir."
"I know so. I also know everyone is watching you and wanting you. But you belong to me, don't you Cara?"
"Yes, Sir."
He moved around her, stroking her hair, tweaking a nipple. His hands ran down her spine, catching her shiver, and slid between her legs. Dripping heat met his strokes, and he held back a groan at her readiness. God, she was perfect. Ripe for fucking and taking what's his. Ripe for only him.
"Gorgeous." He held up his hand and licked his fingers. "My sub is ready. Please lie on the table."
She rose to her feet and situated herself on the table. With a wicked smile, he slid out the two stirrups hidden in the table, and placed her feet on each of them so she was spread wide. Doctor play was popular, but he kept a close eye on her, wanting to be sure this was something that turned her on.
One more dip of his fingers into her cunt proved it did.
The table also had slide outs for her hands, so he quickly bound her wrists with the soft leather ties, and gazed upon the woman he loved.
Spread wide. Wet with arousal. Her clit was already hard, and poking from the hood. Nipples hard little points. She squirmed with need, obviously loving that they had a crowd watching her. Who would've thought his shy little Cara would have an exhibitionist streak? He loved discovering every naughty little thing about her, and intended to spend the rest of his life dedicated to acting out every one of her fantasies.
He hoped she had a lot of them.
"The rules are simple, Cara. No coming unless I give you permission. No moving. But you may scream as loud as you'd like." He turned toward the table of instruments. "Let's begin."
Chapter Twelve
CARA SUNK DEEPER INTO a world of decadence and submission. The man she loved, from the moment his hungry gaze caught hers in English 101, was about to wreak havoc on her very willing body.
God, she couldn't wait.
The knowledge he loved her allowed her to let go and fly. This was a new start for both of them, and Cara was already wet and aching for him to thrust into her pussy and claim her.
But first he'd torture her.
"Do you see what I'm holding, Cara?"
She blinked and focused. He held a large white feather. Cara relaxed. "Yes, Sir."
"What is it?"
"A feather, Sir."
"Do you know what I can do with this feather?"
"Tickle me?"
A half smile kicked up his lips. "Many things. Let's see. I will not blindfold you, but I want you to close your eyes. Do not open them until I tell you. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
Her lids slid closed and she relaxed against the table. A light tickling sensation skated over her sensitive skin, bringing goose bumps. From her chin, down her sides, around her knee, ankle, to the tip of her toes, he teased her into a state of complete arousal, but it came with gentle waves instead of violent tsunamis. Ah, she could do this all day. Pure heaven. If only he--
The feather traced the line of her bare pussy, the crease between thigh, and slowly, touched the tip of her clit.
She jerked. Her eyes flew open.
His face was implacable, but a glint of amusement lit his ocean blue eyes. "You will not open your eyes, Cara, or you will be punished. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Your body is stunning. You were meant to be adorned with jewels. I'd choose rubies to go with your hair. Why don't we see how you'd look?"
She held her breath and heard rustling from the right side. Heart pounding madly, she waited for his touch. His fingers closed around her hard nipple, stroking. She let out a sigh, and then his hot mouth sucked on her, his tongue flicking and lapping at the tight bud until it was long and hard and so sensitive.
A pinch stabbed her nipple. Her tummy tightened and tumbled in a free-fall. God, it felt so strange. A good hurt. She heard the delicate tinkling of chains. "Gorgeous. Now the other one."
Cara wanted to open her eyes, but he hadn't given permission. He treated the other breast to the same, licking and sucking, making the tip long, and then another pinch clamped around her nipple.
"Stunning. Open your eyes, Cara. Look at yourself."
She obeyed. Tiny rubies hung from the nipple clamps and a gold chain loops both together. The tight, painful sensation softened, until her blood ran hot and thick, and arousal settled heavily between her thighs. Oh, God, she was so turned on, she needed desperately to come. She felt so sensitive, and needy. Rem tugged on the chain and a lightning streak of heat shot to her clit, wrestling a moan from her lips.
"Ah, you like that. I'm glad. You may close your eyes again, Cara."
She whimpered. Her muscles clenched as he began to play. The feather dipped inside her, tickled her clit, then slid up her stomach to torture her nipples. Flicking the tips back and forth, she moaned and forced herself not to shoot up and demand her orgasm. Who would've thought a damn feather could make her want to rocket off the table?
She had no idea where the next touch would land, and the not knowing made the waiting even more excruciating. Finally, the feather dipped into her navel, moved lower, and began to rotate around her clit. Again. Again. He tugged on the chain and her nipples flared to life.
Uh, oh.
Cara bore down and fought off the impending climax, but he was merciless. The gentle, steady manipulation was like a stream of a shower jet, and she panted, trying to maintain control.
At the last minute, when she was ready to beg, he backed off.
Thank God.
Until a hot searing burn raked across her nipple.
Cara arched under the sting. Pain, then pleasure exploded in waves. She was desperately trying to figure out what was happening, when the feather began the slow circling torture, and as her mind tried to cling to that sensation, another burning sting enveloped the tip of her other breast.
A candle? Hot wax? Oh, god, she wasn't going to make it.
The play continued. Blistering heat. Coolness as the wax hardened. A slow circle around her clit. A drag of the feather over her pussy. Again. And again.
Everything tensed up and drew tight, ready for release, but each time he brought her back from the edge and gave her a breather.
"Oh, please," she moaned, squeezing her eyes tight. She shook on the table, trying to maintain control. "Sir, I'm going to come."
"You will not."
Suddenly, a bitter cold object was pressed against her clit. Her hips jerked madly upward, and she screamed as an ice cube was slowly pushed into her hot, swollen pussy. The extreme mingling of hot with cold threw her into mini convulsions, and wiped out any lingering ideas her mind had of keeping stock on what was going on.
In that one moment, Cara surrendered.
Time merged into intervals of sensation, and she let her body rule and become her own master. She hung somewhere in space, filled with blinding colors and sharp
pleasure; a place where her mind couldn't follow.
She didn't know how long he was whispering her name until she came to, and drowsily opened her eyes.
"My sweet, good girl. My beautiful, Cara. Do you want to come?"
"Yes."
"Beg me, Cara."
A sob choked her throat. "Please, Sir. I want you so much. I love you-- please--"
She hissed out a breath when his warm, wet mouth closed over her clit, sucking gently, flicking the hard nub back and forth with his tongue. The orgasm built, driving her forward like a hurtling freight train, until she hung on the edge, desperate for release, her head thrashing back and forth.
"Come, Cara. Come for me, my love."
He ripped off the nipple clamps, and as searing pain hit her tortured nipples, he bit down on her clit, and she was coming.
Cara screamed and screamed, her body jerking under the violent spasms of lust and release, coming over and over. He held her tight to the table and sucked and licked her pussy, driving into her second orgasm. Finally, she collapsed, tears sliding down her cheeks, and gave herself over completely.
He released her from the bonds, picked her up, and wrapped her in a warm blanket. Leaving the crowd behind, he walked off stage and into a small private room and dropped into a chair, rocking her against his chest. "Drink, sweetheart."
Cara took a few sips. The water soothed her raw throat. Gazing up at him, she realized there was nowhere left to hide for either of them. And she gave him the words.
"I love you, Remington Steele. I want to be your submissive. Your lover. Your best friend. I want to be your everything. I will never leave you, and I beg you for one more thing." She trembled in his arms. "Love me as much as I love you. Give me another chance."
He muttered something under his breath and took her mouth in a deep, ravishing kiss. When he lifted his head, those blue eyes burned with a truth that wouldn't be hidden.
"You never have to beg me to love you, Cara. I always have, and I always will. I want to be your Dom, your lover, your friend. I want to be your husband. And I'll never leave you."