His Canvas [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Read online

  She nodded.

  * * * *

  Kel wondered how she’d feel during the actual act. If she’d still feel the same.

  “Tonight—rather, this morning—we both need sleep. You need a long, warm shower first, or you’re going to feel like a block of the bad kind of pain when you get up.”

  He shut down the laptop and set it on the coffee table. Then he took her into his arms. “So, for now, we’ll go slow. I don’t want to do anything until we’ve eased into this next stage. You’ll need at least a few days to recover from tonight. But for the time being, I’m yours, and you’re mine. Boyfriend and girlfriend.”

  “Submissive?”

  He hesitated. “Let’s hold off on that. That’s a serious commitment to me. I don’t go around slapping collars on people. Let’s see if you even like the real me first.”

  He waited to go to bed until he heard her finish with her shower and retire to her own bedroom.

  Then he took a hot shower, rubbing one out in the process while thinking about how gorgeous she had looked wrapped in barbed wire, and then collapsed onto his bed to try to sleep.

  When he awoke a little after noon, there were still no signs of life from her room. He quietly got up, dressed, and fixed himself a bowl of cereal to take down to the office.

  Down there, he started working processing the shots from the night before, his cock thickening in his shorts as he studied her body.

  She.

  Was.

  Fucking.

  Gorgeous.

  She brought a natural vulnerability to the shots that only amplified the rigging Jaymzon had used on her.

  These images were going to be hot and widely received.

  On the flip side of that, he knew the inevitable, that people would grab and post them on their own FetLife profiles, make obscene comments about her and the poses, and distribute them all over the place even though it was illegal to copy and post them, a violation of copyright.

  Everyone, able to stare at her, to see her in a way usually only he did.

  This was different. She was his. He could twist it into any semantics he wanted, but she was his. He wanted her. Maybe even needed her just a little.

  Maybe she’d been his all along and he’d been too stubborn to admit it to himself.

  As long as she could tolerate his dark side, learn to love playing in the shadows with him, enjoy her time there with him.

  If she could…

  He sat back and stared at one shot of her, a close-up he’d taken for himself of her face, her eyes half-closed, lips parted, a little fear and discomfort there, the salt in the cookie dough recipe, making it that much sweeter.

  Richer.

  Beautiful.

  After he finished processing the shots, he put duplicates of them on a thumb drive for her to have, if she wanted them. He’d just made it upstairs a little before three when he heard her bedroom door open.

  He walked down to greet her. She wore the blue satin robe.

  Dammit, I love that thing.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Sore.” She offered him a smile when he opened his arms to her. She slipped into his embrace, her face pressed against his chest, her arms wrapped around him.

  “How’d you sleep?”

  “Good. Maybe the best I’ve slept in a while.” She finally tipped her face up to his and he kissed her, unsuccessfully trying to will his cock to stand down.

  “Oh.” He fished the thumb drive out of his pocket and handed it to her. “Pictures. Your copies from last night. You can leave the thumb drive on my desk when you’re finished.”

  “Thank you.”

  He kissed her one last time, then patted her on the ass. “Go do whatever you were going to do before I interrupted you. I’ll fix you some breakfast.”

  He loved her smile. It just might be his undoing. “Thank you, Sir.”

  Hell, he loved hearing her call him Sir, even if she wasn’t formally his submissive.

  He waited until she closed the bathroom door to return to the kitchen, whistling as he went.

  If this was the next stage of his life, maybe he’d just found a level above Heaven that he’d never dreamed existed before.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kel lasted another two weeks at the boyfriend-girlfriend level before he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d shown her all his private edge play pictures and she hadn’t been scared away yet. He showed her his supplies, explained various things to her, and still she insisted she wanted to try it. They’d gone through sexual history discussions with each other, and even though both of them had previous clean tests, he paid for them to both get tested again, a full STD panel, the results of which they’d have back the next week.

  She’d had three partners before him, but one had been in high school, and the other two over a year before.

  He wouldn’t deny he’d enjoy showing her things she’d never experienced before.

  On the other side of that, he sincerely hoped she still wanted him when all was said and done.

  Friday morning, Kel pulled her to him after breakfast. “Any plans for tonight?”

  Mallory shook her head. “No. I work until six and then I’m all yours.”

  He leaned in and kissed her. “Then I think tonight we need to start exploring a little more. When you get home, take a shower, no makeup, and come downstairs wearing your blue robe.”

  She nodded, her cheeks flushing.

  Her smile lighting his soul.

  That evening, Kel cleared out space downstairs in his workshop and set out the MMA mats he sometimes used for rigging before laying down black fabric over them. As he prepared the other items and got the lights and cameras positioned, he felt nervous, giddy, and just a wee bit nauseous.

  Maybe this is true love.

  When Mal emerged from the stairwell, he understood the cliché about a person’s heart hitting their feet. In this case, in a good way.

  She wasn’t just beautiful, she looked stunning, her blue satin robe shimmering in the light. He’d put on Steely Dan to play by, one of his favorite bands, not needing to impress anyone and wanting the mood perfectly set. It also helped mask the sounds of the music pulsing through the wall from the club on the other side.

  The final thing he needed, he threw down several large pillows onto the mats.

  She stood there, waiting for his direction. He walked over and took her hands. “You sure about this?”

  She met his gaze without hesitation. “I trust you. I want to do this.”

  He stroked her cheek. As he’d asked, she wasn’t wearing any makeup. He reached up and gently removed the elastic band from her hair, combing it out with his fingers so it cascaded down her shoulders. “Did I ever tell you how much I love this color on you?”

  She rewarded him with a smile. “Thank you, Sir.”

  He leaned in and kissed her, slowly, gently, savoring it. He wanted to cherish every second of this with her. “If you change your mind at any point, just say red, and I’ll stop. About anything. Promise me. Just like any other time we play. You won’t disappoint me if you call it.”

  “I promise.” She unfastened the belt of her robe and shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor behind her. “I want this, and I want you. I want all of you, the real you. I want to be the person you can let go with, just like I want you to be the person I can let go to. I want to play in the shadows with you.”

  He cupped her cheek in his hand and kissed her, a little harder, nipping her lower lip and sucking on it before lifting his head again and staring into her eyes. “I’m going to put my marks on you,” he whispered. “I’m going to paint my feelings onto your flesh.” He reached down and rested his hands on her hips, trailing his fingers lightly over and up her rounded tummy, to her breasts, and down her sides until they settled on her ass.

  He dug his fingers in, mindful not to mark her yet, wanting the before and after clearly delineated in the photos. “I mark what’s mine,” he said. “And i
f we’re going to do this, that means we’re going to be monogamous to each other. And more, it means we both get veto power over anyone the other plays with. You don’t want to do that, you don’t screw around behind my back. You talk to me and we deal with it. I won’t screw around behind your back, either. We’re adults. You want to be in a relationship with me, it means we communicate our needs. I ever catch you breaking that trust, that’s it. Not saying you have to pledge undying love to me, but I will give you one hundred percent of my trust and respect, and I promise in return to respect you and not to break your trust. Deal?”

  She nodded, her beautiful smile melting his soul. “I don’t want anyone but you.” She reached down and grabbed the bulge pressing against the front of his jeans, squeezing just a little. “I’m more than happy to take what I can get and be happy for it.”

  He barely managed to hold back his needy moan. It would be too easy to throw her down on the mats and fuck her silly right then.

  Who was he kidding? He knew he loved her. He just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud yet. The last time he’d thought he was in love, he’d ended up with a woman who was five gallons of crazy in a two-gallon bucket.

  But he’d meant every word he said. He wouldn’t screw around on her, and maybe she’d put up with him long enough for him to finally feel secure saying those three little words to her.

  Meanwhile, if nothing else, he’d show her how he felt. He led her over to the pillows and arranged her how he wanted on her back, getting the cameras ready and focused. He’d use a remote to trigger them, and then a hand-held camera for the close-ups he wanted.

  Already, the thought of going through post to edit the photos had him hard and throbbing.

  He started by using royal blue rope on her lower arms, tying gauntlets around her wrists and then raising her arms over her head and tying them together.

  Her focus never left him. Every time he looked, her blue gaze lay upon him like a sensual cloud.

  Then he tied gauntlets around her feet and ankles, bringing up first her right foot, then her left, bending her legs at the knees and tying her feet to her thighs as closely as he knew her muscles could stand.

  More pictures.

  He pushed her legs apart, propped up by pillows so she could hold the pose longer.

  His heart pounded in his chest at how open, vulnerable she looked.

  Beautiful. A perfect goddess with flaming red hair, ready for him to take her.

  Wanting him to take her.

  He took several close-up shots of how the rope pressed into the flesh of her upper thighs before setting the camera aside and kneeling between her legs.

  “Color.”

  “Green,” she whispered.

  He slid his fingers up her body, to her breasts, grabbing and squeezing, his gaze never leaving hers, watching, gauging.

  Only when she bit down on her lower lip did he stop applying pressure, holding it there, watching as her flesh started changing color under his fingers from creamy white to pink. Her nipples stood out, hard and peaked, inviting.

  He leaned in and flicked his tongue over first one, then the other, before releasing her and sitting up again. The soft gasps she made sent throbbing agony through his cock and balls. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to fuck her hard and fast and make her his, with his fingers digging into her flesh and leaving his fingerprints all over her even as he made her come.

  He grabbed the camera and took pictures of her breasts before the imprints of his fingers there faded.

  Putting it aside again, he scooted back just enough he could lean in and kiss her pussy.

  The louder moan he drew from her nearly made him come in his jeans.

  Swiping his tongue up her clit, he lifted his head to watch as her body flushed, deep red creeping into her pussy lips, her clit swelling.

  He buried his face between her thighs, keeping his eyes open so he could look up her body and watch her expression.

  Something between shock and ecstasy swept across her features before she closed her eyes and let out a long, low cry as her orgasm hit.

  That’s what I wanted to hear.

  When he was sure she’d finished cresting that wave, he turned his head to the side and bit down, hard, on the tender flesh of the inside of her left thigh, her moan turning into a cry. He turned his head to the other side and repeated it, barely remembering to grab the camera and take pictures.

  Putting it aside again, he worked his way up her flesh from her mound to her breasts, biting, pinching, squeezing, marking her, drawing cries from her that turned to moans every time he’d reach down between her legs and slide two fingers into her pussy, finger-fucking her just to the point of coming again before stopping. Denying.

  Holding her back until he was ready to let her come again.

  He wanted her next orgasm to be with his cock deeply embedded inside her.

  Her expression had taken on a deliciously crazed combination between agony and delight, her lower lip lightly swollen from where she kept biting down on it.

  He leaned in and kissed her, sucking on it, nibbling, licking.

  Then he worked his way up the insides of her arms, each set of marks he left in her flesh silently branding her as his, his mouth going back and forth between sucking on her nipples to biting her arms just to the point before breaking skin.

  Every time his hand traveled back between her legs, her hips flexed, rocking, her entire body consumed with the motion, trying to get herself off before the inevitable stoppage and denial.

  He finally pulled his hand from her pussy, slipping his fingers between her lips so she could suck her juices off them. As he did, he took more close-ups, getting the detail of how her lips folded around his flesh.

  With the camera once again set aside, he reached for his knife, the small, sharp stiletto he’d never used on anyone else for knife play.

  Yet.

  * * * *

  Mal gasped at the sensation of the cool, flat steel of the blade pressing against her stomach when he laid it there.

  “Don’t move,” he whispered, a smile crossing his face. “It’s very, very sharp.”

  She swallowed hard. The first orgasm had hit her like a runaway train, the best damn one of her life.

  Then he’d started the tease and denial and her pussy ached to be filled, her clit throbbing harder every time he built her up just to stop.

  He took another round of pictures before adjusting the pillows behind her head.

  “Don’t close your eyes,” he said. “I want you to watch me. I want you to see what I do. I want to know you’re okay with everything I’m doing.”

  She nodded, unable to not see the sharp blade lying on her stomach.

  He picked it up and then dipped his head, burying his tongue in her pussy again. The man had a mouth even more talented than his fingers and hands, and he quickly built her up—

  Before sitting up again, leaving her almost near tears as he once again denied her.

  “Color.”

  “Green!” she gasped.

  He changed position, stretching out on his left side, his arm hooked under and around her right leg. The weight of his body pressed against her knee, spreading her even wider than before.

  “Keep your legs open,” he warned. “And do not move. This blade is very, very sharp.”

  Then he brought up the knife with his right hand.

  Slowly, he touched the tip of it to her flesh, lightly at first and then applying just a little more pressure until it bit through the surface, a tiny line of blood welling up.

  “Make all the noise you want,” he said, his voice thick and yet teasing. “I want to hear you.”

  The cries escaped her as pain built, tears rolling down her face, not even as bad as a heavy caning but not being able to move had added an extra degree of edge for her. And she damn sure wouldn’t safeword for it, either. It wasn’t a large shape, and it wasn’t a deep cut. When he finished a few minutes later the small heart lay clear
ly outlined on her flesh, defined by her blood.

  He set the knife aside and snapped several pictures, keeping his left arm hooked around her leg. Only when he was satisfied did he put the camera aside and stand up, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

  “My marks, all over you,” he softly said. “Mine. For as long as you want to be mine.” He dropped the shirt off to the side and started working on his jeans. “Mine to mark, mine to design,” he softly said, kicking his jeans and briefs off to join his shirt. He reached over and grabbed a condom pouch, ripping it open and rolling it slowly down his shaft.

  He knelt between her legs again and swiped the head of his cock up and down along her pussy lips, her juices freely flowing and coating his cock.

  He traced his finger along the heart, where the bleeding was already beginning to stop, and covered his finger with her blood. He drew a small K on her chest, between her breasts, smiling as he did. Only then did he thrust his hips forward, slowly impaling her with his cock, filling her, making her cry out again, in pleasure this time.

  He filled her, stretching her in a delicious way she’d never felt before. Not even the vibrator hidden in her dresser drawer was quite this big or felt this good.

  Bracing himself with his hands planted on either side of her head, he looked down at her. “Now you can come again,” he whispered before leaning in and kissing her.

  As he did, he slowly withdrew his cock before plunging in again, over and over, the angle and her swollen, exposed clit conspiring together to quickly drive her toward release. His tongue fucked her mouth, hard, fast, brutally, even as his cock fucked her slowly, tenderly, patiently, until she hit the point of no return. Not as hard an orgasm as the one he’d driven her to with his mouth, but even sweeter.

  He lifted his mouth from hers. “That’s it. Your body knows who owns you, doesn’t it? Who you belong to. Who knows how to give you what you need.” He started fucking her hard, fast, deep, brutally, driving her across the mats with each thrust until he hooked his arms under her shoulders and held her in place.

  And still, she kept coming, never before realizing how good it could feel like this, how fantastic sex with the right partner could be. Her tears still fell, this time of pleasure as she cried out. Kel’s fingers dug into the top of her shoulders, clawing as he let out a loud cry of his own and his body fell rigid and still on top of hers. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against hers, noses touching.