Read Hear Me for Free Online Page B

to keep doing it. So she let her body lead—strange though it felt, foreign and uncertain. She rolled her body along his, she ran her hands over his skin.
    It wasn’t her anyway. This was too much, too fast. It had to be some other woman playing the sensual lover, because she would never dare. And when he said, “God, yes, so long,” it was only a dream.
    He broke the kiss, and she sighed with regret. But then he pulled her to the water, where eddies of warm and cool tickled her feet. She gasped in delight, and it sounded sharply even over the rush inside the cave. It had a strange amplifying effect—even the silence was loud, but each small splash or sigh was a roar in her ears.
    She looked up to find him watching her with an enigmatic expression. In the shadows, the darkness of his eyes loomed large. She imagined she could see his thoughts, that they swirled like so much smoke: thick bands of lust, wisps of amusement.
    Her training wasn’t about how to stand or to suck, not really. She had become an expert at reading expressions, at decoding body language. He was a formidable cipher, but she only needed time.
    Meanwhile, she knew well enough what those heavy lids and flattened lips meant. She saw the tinge of red on his cheeks. All of that would have told her, even if she hadn’t seen the bulge in his wet jeans. He wanted to take her and this time, it wasn’t in his sleep. It wasn’t in some awkward moment, born of pity—no. He had initiated this. He had brought her to this magical place. No dream.
    He seemed to like her forwardness, like a release valve to the curious guilt he had about her status, so she tentatively reached up to sweep a wet lock of hair from his forehead. He remained still for her touch, his expression one of approving forbearance. But when she went to stroke down his neck, he caught her wrist.
    “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to say no if you don’t want it too. I’m afraid you can’t. If I were better—stronger—I wouldn’t even make you choose, but I…” He sighed. The moisture in the air beaded on his eyelashes. “It’s been so long. I’ve waited so long.”
    He pulled her in deeper, until the water climbed her thighs and lapped at her cunt. They followed the wall of the cave until it opened up onto a small beach that was completely enclosed by cool stone and reflective water. Barely enough place for both of them, but she knew that was the point. Here even the white noise of the water was reduced, and all she could hear was her breath and his.
    “I never imagined a submissive as perfect as you,” he said lowly, but the words were as commanding as she’d ever heard him. “I keep thinking you’re not real, that I’ll wake up and find myself alone again. But this isn’t real, is it? You aren’t really like this. They made you this way.”
    Don’t make me think about it. Just want me.
    “Jesus Christ,” he said. “When you look at me, so damn trusting. It’s not right. I know that, but I can’t stop. Will you let me, subby? Can I hurt you?”
    Her only hesitation was how best to answer him— yes, anything, finally— and she slowly left the water, let it fall off her body as she sank to her knees. To her surprise, there weren’t any sharp pebbles here—only silky sand beneath her palms, sliding up between her fingers. Not part of the rough ground outside, this was an extension of the ocean floor, worn smooth from an eternity of ripples.
    She glanced back to gauge her behavior; he stared at her body with such blatant appreciation that she felt a flush of pride mingle with the slow burn of arousal.
    “You have to promise to stop me.” He gave her a light smack on the flat of her ass. “Can you snap your fingers? Let me see you do it.”
    She did, and he hit her again. It was light, more of a promise than a punishment. It bore little resemblance to the spankings she had endured at the hands of other men. She had been cold and shaken, like a cymbal