Page 9

Feathers.

Tara didn’t want to admit how long it took her to figure out what letter T item would require feathers. When she did figure it out, she hid a grimace.

Tickling.

She hadn’t really given much thought to tickling when it came to BDSM, but she understood how it slotted into sensation play. She had a few reservations, because she’d heard that sometimes tickling was tied to scenes where there was also age-play, and that was, for her, too far.

One of her favorite sounds in the world was the deep belly laughs and uncontrolled giggles of her nieces and nephews when she ticked them or blew “bubble farts” on their bellies. That mentally categorized tickling as a nonsexual activity for her.

However, she was fairly sure she hadn’t put tickling on her hard limit list. Her nieces and nephews were toddler through first-grade aged, which meant she’d filled out her checklist when they were infants. Long before the word “tickle” became associated in her mind with cries of “tickle me, mausi !”

Nathan had a quick, whispered conversation with the Dom who’d responded to his call for help, turning back to her when the man walked away.

Nathan smiled at her, the expression achingly familiar, and then his gaze slid from her face down to her bare breasts, smile turning into a pleased Dom-smirk that made her tense even as her pussy clenched.

“You have lovely breasts.”

The muscles in her upper arms fluttered as she fought twin urges to either bring her elbows forward in a hunch to hide herself, or to press her elbows back, lifting and offering her breasts.

“It’s a shame what I have planned for them.”

A mildly horrified thrill ran down her back. “What do you have planned?”

“T.” He raised one brow.

“Tit torture,” she said on an exhale.

He nodded.

“But first tickling,” she said, not hiding her grimace.

Nathan made a noise best described as “gack” as he reared back, leaning hard into the couch. “Tickling? Shit no.”

Tara couldn’t stop the smile at his over-the-top reaction, even as she said, “Isn’t that what the feather is for?”

Nathan gripped her thighs hard, and instead of making her self-conscious about their size and squishiness, the hold, especially the pressure, felt good.

“Tickling…” Nathan made a dramatic gagging noise.

“Alright, calm down.” Tara dropped her hands to prop them on her hips and shook her head at his dramatics, though she was still smiling.

“Let me just compartmentalize my horror.” He mimed putting something in a box. “I expect you to pay for my therapy.”

She’d forgotten he could be like this, totally goofy and ridiculous. It was almost like looking into the past, at the young man she’d first met. Not that witty-banter adult Nathan was a bad thing. It was more that when they talked, usually it was work-based, and she got the sharp-intellected, serious-scientist Nathan.

In recent years, this goofy version came out only they were at a wedding and some ridiculous song came on, and he busted out the purposefully terrible dance moves.

“No tickling,” she said, half question.

“I’d rather put my dick in a blender than either tickle someone or be tickled.”

She couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping to his crotch.

This was Nathan. Her best friend. Her oldest friend. And yes, she was straddling his lap, mostly naked, after having been spanked, but thinking about his cock seemed?—

“Hey, come back. Get out of your head, Tara.”

Tara’s gaze snapped up to his.

He cupped her cheek. “Stay here, in this moment, with me.”

Emotion swelled, and her throat tightened as if she were about to cry again.

Nathan grabbed her wrists in his big hands. She expected him to guide her arms back into position, and was already starting to lift them.

Instead, he jerked her arms forward and down. Her upper chest and shoulder hit his chest as she was yanked forward, her cheek sliding against his before her face settled against his neck. He pressed her hands against the cushion on either side of his hips and then pulled his arms free, wrapping one around her back.

Her ass had lifted off his knees when he pulled her forward, and now his arm around her kept her in that position, butt elevated several inches.

His free hand came down on her ass in a hard swat.

Tara sucked in air, eyes wide in shock, and yes, pain. That hurt. Her poor abused bottom had only just stopped throbbing, and now he was lighting her up again.

He tightened his hold, reaching across her back to spank her other cheek.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she yelped, jamming her shoulders and neck harder against him.

“What are you sorry for?”

“For dropping my hands.”

“Nope.” Another spank.

“For—”

Again, he spanked her, and that made two on each side. This was genuine pain, and yet her pussy throbbed.

“I’m sorry for getting lost in my thoughts and worries,” she said against his neck in a rush, pressing her face to the soft skin under his ear.

“That’s right, sweetheart.”

Baby. Sweetheart. Both names felt good, when she knew they shouldn’t.

He eased her back into a sitting position, and she kept her head bowed, shivering as fresh pain swept through her, once her butt made contact with his hard legs. She laced her hands together behind her neck.

“Look at me.”

Tara looked at him through her lashes, her body feeling soft and heavy with submission and need.

Nathan cupped her breasts, swiping his thumbs across her nipples. Pleasure transformed pain’s remnants, until the throbbing in her lower body wasn’t from the spanking but an extension of the pulsing need that throbbed through her.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you, Sir.”

“How does your bottom feel?”

“It hurts.”

“You can do better than that.”

“It feels hot and raw. The skin is tender, but there’s a deeper ache too.”

He made a noncommittal humming noise as he once more cupped her breasts, idly thumbing her nipples. What fell between them wasn’t silence but a soft calm filled with the sound of her quiet moans of pleasure and need.

“Here you go,” a male voice said.

Tara opened her eyes as Nathan released her breasts, reaching up and back to take what looked like a small feather duster from the Dom standing behind the couch.

“Thanks, man.”

“You’re welcome.”

The toy had a molded, dark-wood handle. Feathers of different sizes and shapes flared from the end, and when he held it straight up, it looked like a black and red bouquet.

“Tickling is on my hard limit list, if you hadn’t already figured that out. Sorry if that’s something you were looking forward to.” Nathan tested the feathers against his left arm, frowning in concentration.

“It wasn’t. I was planning to tell you that I would have changed it to ‘no’ had I known about the game and had a chance to review my list.”

“I’m glad I won’t leave your tickle fetish unsatisfied.” He held the toy parallel to the floor and twirled it so the outer ring of feathers brushed his skin.

“That looks a lot like tickling,” she said, unable to keep the comment to herself.

“I know, I’m assessing the least tickly way to use the teaser.”

“Teaser? Is teasing one of our items.”

“Yes.”

Tara opened her mouth, closed it, thought, then with a rush said, “What does that mean?”

Nathan looked at her, the hand holding the teaser dropping to the couch while his other palm landed on her thigh, squeezing with that deep pressure she liked.

“What does teasing mean?” he asked slowly.

“Obviously I know what the word means, but in a BDSM context…” She shrugged, hiding a smile at the way his eyes dropped to her breasts for a moment. “Isn’t teasing…edging?”

“It could be. I certainly think if I decided to edge you for a few hours and call it teasing, no one would tell me I was wrong.”

Tara genuinely wasn’t sure if she loved or hated that idea, and it must have shown on her face because he smirked.

“But my interpretation of the prompt is that while edging requires intense stimulation specifically intended to make you orgasm, teasing includes touches and activities that wouldn’t necessarily bring you to orgasm on their own.”

The slightly formal, scientific way he spoke made it perfectly clear, at least to Tara, that he’d put serious analytical thought into this.

His voice dropped to a low, seductive rumble. “So I could tease you like this.”

Nathan leaned and down, his nose brushing the top of her breast. Warm, damp breath washed over her nipple. Tara closed her eyes, holding still in anticipation of feeling his lips and teeth closing around the tip of her breast.

There was a rush of cold that made her shiver as he inhaled, the action causing cool air to steam around her nipple, only to be replaced by his warm breath a moment later when he exhaled.

Her nipple was already hard and sensitive, given the arousal that was a constant low ache in her gut.

Her stomach was tight with anticipation, her pussy throbbing and hot as she took shallow breaths, her attention focused on her left nipple.

It wasn’t until he exhaled for the fifth time that her need-addled brain realized the touch she craved wasn’t coming. Her nipple was in his mouth, but he wasn’t touching it. No sucking, biting, or licking.

This was his version of “teasing”—his open mouth poised at her nipple, letting her feel his breath, but not actually touching her.

“No,” she breathed in horror.

A low chuckle rumbled through him. Nathan gripped her hips, forcing her to kneel up, her ass no longer resting on his legs, her thighs spread wide. She swayed a little, hoping she could bump her nipple against his lips, tongue, or teeth, but though he kept his head close to her breast, he was careful not to touch her.

The gentle tips of feathers slid over her ass. Her spanking-sensitized skin felt the soft brushing caress acutely.

He repeated the caress, the touch almost irritating it was so light, and nearly lost under the sensation of his hot breath fanning over her nipple.

Nathan lifted his head from her breast, studying her with eyes that glittered with intensity. She inhaled sharply as she held his gaze, feeling raw and exposed in a way that had nothing to do with physical nudity.

Without a word, he switched to her other breast, placing his open mouth over her nipple.

She shivered, the tip of the breast he’d just abandoned cold after the loss of his heat. Her nipple was hard and erect, her areola crinkled from the chill.

The feathered teaser danced up the front and side of her thigh, ghosting over her hip. He stopped there, skipping the ticklish skin at her waist, and instead flicking her tight nipple with the very tip of the longest feather.

Tara clenched her fingers together so tight they started to ache. It was the only way to combat this desperate need to grab him.

Every muscle in her shoulders and arms was tense with the need to force him to touch her.

Nathan must have sensed her tension, or maybe he could feel the tightening of the muscles along her back, because he lifted his head, once more meeting her gaze.

This time, the intensity was dialed back, masked by shrewd assessment.

“You don’t like teasing?”

“I expected it to be frustrating,” she said. “I didn’t expect it to make me angry.”

“Angry?”

“Yes.” She shook her head, grimacing. “I know I’m not the most patient person?—”

Nathan burst out laughing.

“Is the laughter really necessary?” She had to fight a smile but managed to keep her voice dry.

“Necessary?” Nathan leaned back, resting his head along the back of the couch. He scooted his hips forward a little bit, bumping against her inner thighs and almost touching her aching pussy. “No, it’s not necessary. But an understatement of that caliber deserves recognition.”

“At least I’m self-aware.”

“True.” Nathan’s gaze slid from her face down to her breasts, then lower still.

He lifted the feathered teaser, flicking it with short quick motions so that the feathers gently lashed her breasts. She leaned in trying to increase the sensation.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “You look more than just frustrated.”

“I guess frustrated and angry aren’t far apart.”

“You make me want to do something I’ve never done before,” Nathan said.

That had Tara going still, tension and anticipation freezing her in place.

“And what’s that?”

“I want to tease you until you’re so angry that you lash out. I want to push you to behave badly.”

“I thought you didn’t need an excuse to punish me.”

“I don’t. That’s what makes this odd.” He looked deceptively casual with his head resting against the back of the couch, looking at her from beneath half-lowered lids. “But some fucked-up part of me wants you to try and fight me.”

Tara’s eyes widened.

“I want you to fight me so I can hold you down. Make sure you feel exactly how helpless you are because I’m more physically powerful than you.”

His words were shocking, but shock was not her primary reaction. Desperate arousal clawed her, clenching every muscle in her body. She felt fresh arousal fluid between her labia, and pool against the latex panties.

“That’s not normally part of my scenes. Not how I play,” he said softly.

“No,” she said in agreement. “It’s not something I look for either.”

Nathan sat up tossing aside the teaser and gripping her hips. “But?”

“But,” she agreed.

Neither one of them completed the thought.

But with you I want it.

But I trust you enough to do it.

Nathan cupped her breasts, thumbs pressed to the lower curve of her areola just below the nipple. Tara groaned between clenched teeth.

“You deserve to be teased.” Nathan’s voice was so low she almost wondered if he was talking to himself, the words not meant for her. “You deserve to experience this game and our items the way they were intended.”

She wanted to interject but stayed quiet, watching him as he looked at her breasts, cupped in his big hands.

“The problem is me. I can’t do it.” Finally he looked up. “I can’t tease you. I want you too much.”

Tara made a soft whimpering sound of need that would have embarrassed her in any other situation.

Nathan gripped her hips, fingers digging in. “Saying I should tease you is like asking a starving man to have a glass of water when there’s a feast waiting for him.”

Nathan’s thumbs slid over her nipples, pressing hard enough that her whole breast indented. Then he dropped his hands, palms skimming down her body before he rested his long arms along the back of the couch.

“Last chance to back out.” His voice was low and rough with need.

“Last chance?”

A smile flickered across his face, lightening the intense expression, though his gaze still slid over her mostly naked body in a way that was distinctly possessive and appreciative.

“Well, last chance, unless you ask me to stop, use a safe word, etc,” he amended.

“And if I don’t back out?”

“You want me to tell you what I have planned for you?”

“Yes.”

“Too bad.” Another grin. “In or out, Patel?”

“In,” she said without hesitation.

“Good girl. Now stand up.”

He guided her into a standing position. He didn’t let go, sitting forward and holding her hips as she shook out her legs. She wasn’t as young as she once was, holding a kneeling position more difficult now.

“You can drop your arms.”

He rose as she shook out her arms, and then Nathan laced his fingers with hers.

“Trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Then it’s time to go.”