Without Restraint Page 3

  “More like a practice bout. No punches, kicks, or choke holds—you’d kill me.” Alex sounded utterly matter-of-fact about the whole thing. “Just joint locks and throws. And pins. Loser taps out of the hold.” She looked up from rolling the other stocking down her calf. She’d bent almost double to do it, making him imagine all the erotic possibilities of a sub that flexible. “Unless you don’t want to.”

  His cock lengthened, on the verge of escaping his waistband. Frank ignored its dicky demands; he needed to know exactly what she intended. “So you’re not talking about me actually hitting you? Because there’s a big difference between flogging somebody with a deerskin cat and punching her with my fist.”

  She snorted. “I have no interest in trading punches with you, Frank. You’re too far out of my weight class.”

  “Yeah, I am. What do I get if I win?” When he won was more like it; not only was he a SEAL, he outweighed her by a hundred pounds of muscle. She didn’t have a prayer.

  Alex grinned at him as if reading his mind and shifted her weight, calling attention to those lush female curves. “What do you want?”

  “You.” He bared his teeth and let the hunger show.

  She smiled. “If you win, you get me.” When his head tilted in question, she clarified. “Sex. With a condom. However you want it.”

  His smile broadened, and he started pulling off his boots. “I’ll win.”

  “Maybe. I don’t intend to make it easy.”

  “Good.” After dropping his socks into his boots, he stood, barefoot. And looked down at her from his seven-inch height advantage. Her eyes drifted down his bare torso to the fly of his jeans, which bulged from the pressure of his erection. “Dicks are off-limits,” he added quickly.

  “Well, not completely, I hope.” Alex glanced around before he could come up with a suitably suggestive response. “Let’s put the mats out.” Bending, she grabbed one of them to pull it into position in the center of the room. The sight of her round, perfect ass as she bent made his mouth go dry. Dragging his attention back to business with an effort, he caught the other mat and wrestled the bulky thing around beside the first one.

  Frank straightened as she stepped onto the padded surface, falling into an easy crouch that did interesting things to her breasts. He moved to face her, his attention on those pale globes. Her nipples looked as pink and tempting as candy.

  “What’s your safeword?” He referred to the emergency code a sub used to let the Dom know something had gone wrong during the scene, whether physically or mentally.

  “Red for stop, yellow for slow down. Green for okay.” The stoplight system was commonly used because it was so easy to remember. “Stop,” ironically, was the one word that was never used, mostly because some subs liked to scream it when what they really meant was “Keep going!”

  When he hesitated, Alex smirked. “We going to go, or are you just going to stand there looking sexy?” She crouched like a knife fighter.

  “Oh, we’re going.” Frank felt a hot smile spread across his face. He’d heard of a lot of inventive ways to play BDSM games, but this was a variant he’d never tried.

  Eyeing her tempting curves, he lunged, meaning to trip her and pin her to the mat. Shouldn’t take long, he assured his impatient cock.

  Alex stepped to the side, smooth as oiled silk. Before he could whip around, she seized his wrist, kicked one foot out from under him, and fell backward, jerking him over. They landed on their backs, Alex at a right angle to his torso, his captured arm trapped between her strong thighs. Both hands gripping his wrist, she levered his arm across the fulcrum of her hips. If she chose, she could easily break his elbow, crippling him permanently.

  And it hurt like a son of a bitch.

  He tried to roll toward her, but she had his chest gripped in her legs. There was no way to reach her in this position, no way to fight her hold, despite his far greater physical strength. It was a classic Juji Gatame, a combination judo throw and joint lock, expertly applied.

  “What dan black belt are you?” Despite the painful pressure she was exerting on his elbow, the sensation of her bare pussy against his trapped arm made his cock jerk.

  “Don’t have a black belt,” Alex told him cheerfully. “I’ve just been studying Krav Maga with Ted for the past five years.” The deadly fighting style was a hodgepodge of martial arts techniques from judo, Karate, and similar fighting systems. Unlike most modern martial arts, it wasn’t a sport. Israeli commandos had created it for use against terrorists. If you studied Krav Maga, you weren’t fucking around.

  Alex cranked back on his wrist until the vicious pain nearly tore a yell from his throat. “Tap out.”

  He did, thumping the mat with his free hand despite howls from his male ego almost as loud as his elbow’s. She released him. As he rolled to his feet, Alex did the same, meeting his gaze with cool, watchful eyes.

  That was when Frank realized this was a test. “Smart. Better to find out if I’m a hot-tempered prick with twenty people ready to come running if you scream.”

  “Given the towering SEAL thing, yeah. I can handle most guys, but you’d take me apart.”

  That stung. “I don’t hurt women.” Honesty forced him to add, “Unless they want me to.”

  “Sorry, but my last master was an asshat.”

  “He the one that demanded you kiss his boots?”

  “Among other body parts. I’m afraid I’m not real good at being anybody’s slave girl.”

  Frank unzipped his jeans and stripped them off, freeing his cock to bob at her. Now as naked as she was, he gave her a slow, hot grin and gestured for her to come at him. “Let’s find out what you are good at.”

  * * *

  Anything you want to do, Alex thought, eyes widening.

  Naked, he appeared even more powerfully built, between brawny shoulders, narrow waist, and legs elegant and strong. The thick length of his cock jutted, its shaft curving upward above the furry, heavy weight of his balls. Gray eyes glinted at her, hungry and intensely male. His smile shone white and predatory as he spread muscular arms wide, hands flexed and ready.

  Frank had underestimated her once. He wouldn’t be doing that again.

  A cautious woman would have hung back, forced him to come after her. Alex had never been cautious. Sinking into a combat crouch, she darted in, seeking a grip on his wrist. He knocked her hand aside, pivoting clear with fluid skill. They circled in a flurry of attacks and blocks, attempted throws and dodges. She was faster and a bit more agile, but he had the advantage in reach and strength.

  Spotting an opening, he stepped in and hooked a foot behind her ankle and his arms around her waist. A twist of his hips, and she found herself flying, held securely in his grip. He hit the ground first, taking the impact of their landing before rolling over on top of her.

  Now she was the one trapped. His long legs coiled around her calves as he pinned her wrists to the mat. She bucked, writhing against his hold, but he was too just strong.

  Bracing on his knuckles, he reared over her with a hot half smile. “Tap out.”

  His erection pressed into her belly, burning and hard. She swallowed at the raw eroticism of being helpless, the feral need in his eyes. “Why should I?”

  “So I can put you down again—and fuck you.” Leaning down, Frank kissed her, his mouth moving over hers in a slow brush of velvet and heat. His tongue slipped between her lips in an erotic thrust. When he drew away, his gray eyes gleamed. “Hard and fast and balls-deep.”

  Alex licked her lips. “Maybe I’ll take you down . . . and fuck you.”

  “Well, as long as one of us gets fucked. Tap out.”

  Instead she writhed. Deliberately. Slowly. Mostly to stoke the heat in that wicked Dom stare, to feel his cock thrust against her belly. “Not yet. I want to see if I can get loose.”

  “You can’t.” He lowered himself on flexing arms until his mouth hovered a breath above hers. “I’ve got you. You’re mine—if I decide you’re worth keeping.�
��

  She bared her teeth. Snapped, just short of that taunting mouth. “You want me to tap out, I’m going to need a hand free to do it.”

  He freed one wrist, his gaze challenging. “So tap.”

  “Okay.” Quick as a cat, Alex darted a hand between them and tapped his cock twice. It bounced against her belly, and she wrapped her fingers around it for a slow, teasing pump. His eyes widened. Glazed, just a little. “Well?” she breathed. “Think I’m worth keeping?”

  Frank growled like a puma, a rumbling note of threat. Grabbing her hand, he pinned it to the mat and leaned down to seize her nipple in his mouth. He began to suck, drawing hard, his tongue lapping sensitive flesh.

  Alex moaned at the sweet, swamping lust. “I thought . . .” she panted, “you wanted to take me down and fuck me?”

  “I’ve got you down. Maybe I don’t see any reason to wait on the fucking.”

  He claimed her other nipple, giving it the same head-spinning treatment as the first. She fought his hold, but he leaned into her, letting her feel his weight, his hot strength, the brush of his body hair across sensitive skin. His teeth closed on her peaked tip, and he drew back, raking gently, then swirled his tongue in erotic patterns across her areola.

  Alex bucked against his grip, just to feel that implacable male strength, to savor the arousing power of it. Heat stormed her senses in a sweet flush that raced the length of her body. Still he teased her, teased until she twisted on the piercingly sweet barbs of lust and pleasure. “Oh, God! Frank, please, Frank . . .” She had no idea what she was begging for, was barely even aware of what she was saying.

  Frank released her and shot to his feet in an abrupt male surge. Powerful legs braced on either side of her thighs, he stared down at her, breathing hard. “Get up. Get up so I can put you down again.”

  Panting, Alex crabbed away from him on palms and feet. He watched her stagger upright with a cat’s predatory intensity. She felt like a particularly juicy canary, a helpless ball of fluff and feathers, plump and slow.

  Frank lunged. She leaped back, only to realize from his wicked smile that it was only a tease. A feint, designed to tire her out.

  I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew. Never mind that this was only supposed to be a game, something to get the blood pumping with arousal and need. For the animal deep in each of them, it was a lot more than that.

  In a real fight, there’d be things Alex could do—punches, kicks, head butts. All the dirty little tricks Ted had taught her for use against drunks and thieves. But she’d specified those things off-limits, knowing perfectly well she’d handed him the advantage.

  Not that Frank needed it.

  Even if she could use every trick she knew, he’d still be able to put her down. Yet somehow she sensed he’d never inflict real harm on her. Yes, he might hurt her, but only as a means of giving her a soul-searing climax. But her gut insisted he would never do actual harm in their games, though she had no logical reason for that belief. She barely knew the man.

  She needed to be sure. Needed to know she could trust him. That he wouldn’t abuse her as Gary had, fists and Gucci loafers striking her in a frenzy of jealousy and resentment and vodka. Shedding her blood to prove his dubious masculinity.

  Instead, Frank came after her with carefully measured force, hands flashing, seeking out holds, joint locks, and leverage. She twisted away from his lunges, and danced over the ankle sweeps that would have taken her down. She made him work for it.

  Until Frank snatched her right out of the air and tossed her facedown on the mat. Alex rolled, tried to scramble away.

  Too slow. He landed on her, hot and hard and strong, one big palm thrusting her right shoulder flat on the mat. The other hand grabbed her left wrist and cranked it up between her shoulder blades. “Tap out.”

  “Fuck off,” she growled, hoarse with lust and excitement. His cock pressed against the curve of her lifted ass. She rolled her hips against it. Teasing.

  “Don’t piss me off.”

  “Or what?” God, she was wet. Bondage games often had that effect on her, but this was even more intense than usual. “What will you do, big man?”

  Frank rolled his hips, let her feel his width pressing hard against her cheeks. “Keep it up, and you’ll find out.”

  “Maybe I want to know.”

  “Maybe you don’t.” Frank pulled her upright by her captured arm, gently enough to avoid causing true pain, rough enough to arouse. Pumping his hips, he slid his erection between her pussy lips, almost entering—but not quite. The smooth head of his shaft glided across her clit in long, luscious strokes. She gasped as he whispered in her ear like a demon tempting a sinner. “Maybe I’ll ream your little pussy until your eyes cross. God, I want to. I want to impale you on my dick like a cocktail olive. Drive it in nice and deep.” His teeth closed over her earlobe in a sharp bite. Released. “Grind.”

  Alex gasped as streamers of creamy need heated her blood. “Bastard.”

  “You’re pushing it hard for a girl with such a wet pussy.” His tongue swirled over her ear, making her shiver. “I’ll bet you’re tight. Are you tight?”

  “Find out.”

  “Shouldn’t tease me like that, baby. I could drive my cock somewhere you don’t want it to go.” Another thrust, this one bucking against her anus.

  She shuddered at the velvet threat, imagining it. The merciless entry, his width working in, remorseless and thick. “I’ll take my chances.” Her voice rasped. Shaking.

  “I ought to take you up on that.” He cranked up on her wrist, taking it right to the scarlet edge of pain. His free hand teased her bare torso, stroking heated, hungry skin. Gliding down to her sex, then between the lips, pausing there to circle and dance in her cream, a fraction of an inch from her aching clit. “Ought to give that snug little ass a fucking you won’t forget.” His teeth closed over the straining cord of her throat. Bit. Released. “Make you love it. Every. Single. Minute.”

  He could do it. He could make me love any damned thing he did.

  Big fingers stabbed up her cunt, ripping a gasp from her throat as he claimed the slick opening. “Good thing for you your pussy is soooooo wet. Sooo tight. I never could resist tight, wet pussy. Feels good gripping my dick while I slide in. And out. And in . . .”

  He fucked her, fingered her, made her writhe on his hand, helpless and lost in animal lust. Until his hand tightened on her wrist, levering her back down on the mat in a helpless ball, ass lifted for entry. “Oooh, God!” she groaned, lifting her hips to grind against his, barely even aware of the pain he was inflicting on her twisted wrist. “Frank . . .”

  “Do you want it?” He rolled his dick between her slick lips.

  “Yes! Christ, yes!”

  “Tap out.”

  Maddened, she banged her free fist down on the mat, once, twice. Surrendering to him. To whatever he wanted, however he wanted her.

  He let go. Before she could protest, he grabbed his jeans and pulled out a foil packet. Ripped it open. Found the slick opening of her pussy with his long, ravenous shaft. And thrust, impaling her.

  The bliss was brain-melting. Cock, so thick, so long, sliding into her cunt, filling her to the brim. He began to fuck her, his hips slapping against her helplessly lifted ass. “You like that?”

  “Oh, God! Yes! Christ, don’t stop!”

  “That’s what I want to hear.” Shifting over her, he angled his shaft to rake right against her G-spot, grinding over her clit, sending pleasure stabbing through her in strokes of fire.

  Alex panted into the mat, angling her ass up into his pounding. “More!” she cried out, the word all but a scream.

  He swore, a hard gasp of pleasure as he fucked her.

  The fire he’d been stoking built. Built. Exploded, a searing wave of it that tore a scream from her throat.

  She heard him roar, a deep male bellow, a moment before he drove to the balls and stiffened, shuddering against her as he came.

  * * *


  Moments passed as panting gasps became hard breaths, heartbeats slowing from jarring thunder to a steady, banging thump. Frank’s arms tightened around her waist, his skin damp against her own sweating flesh. He stroked a hand through her tangled hair. She sighed and closed her eyes a moment. “God, you’re amazing.”

  “Mmmm. So are you.”

  Slowly, he sat up. “I can’t remember the last time a scene got me that hard, that fast—and made me come.”

  With an effort, Alex rolled over. She felt delightfully sore, sated, all but purring. “I figured since you’d just finished doing a whipping demo, you’d probably enjoy something a bit different. I always love combat practice, so I thought, why not combine the two?”

  “Yeah, well, it worked.” Frank hooked a big hand around the back of her neck and swooped down for a kiss. She kissed him back, drinking in the taste of his mouth. With a groan of pleasure, he shifted his hold to cradle her face between his palms.

  A damned promising beginning, Alex thought.

  * * *

  Frank and Alex got dressed reluctantly. “You sure you don’t want another scene?” he asked.

  “I would love another scene.” She dug a brush out of her purse and whipped it through her hair. “I’d love to continue the last one. Unfortunately, Ted and I have to be at work on Monday, and it’s a three-hour drive. We both worked third-shift Saturday, and I swore to him I wouldn’t keep us out too late if we came tonight.”

  “Yeah, I have the same problem. Doubt I’d mind the missed sleep, though.”

  “Neither would I.” Alex leaned in for another dreamy kiss, then murmured against his mouth, “Unfortunately, it’s not up to me. Ted is my ride.”

  Frank stepped back and cocked his head, giving her a long look. “Not to be pushy . . . Oh, hell, who am I kidding? I’m a Dom, I am pushy. I want to see you again.”

  Pleased, she smiled at him. “I want to see you, too. You know, there’s a munch next Saturday at two p.m. We can get together then.” A munch was a type of BDSM social event held at a restaurant or other public venue, usually once a month. It was a vanilla way for kinksters to meet other kinksters in a nonthreatening, nonerotic setting. “I’ll bring my own car next time.”