Filed to story: I Slept With My Ex's Father (Olivia & Dylan) Book PDF Free
“Your confusion is so cute.” His finger skims over the center of my forehead. “The ultimate power lies in the safe word.”
Is he serious?
“BDSM is about trust, respect, and open communication. You talk, with your mouth or your body, and I listen and provide. Whether that is pleasure through pleasure, pleasure through pain, a simple cuddle, or space and time, distance.”
This is blowing my mind. I thought this was about spanking and pain and being depraved or something like that.
“Before any session, a contract is signed or agreed upon where each partner makes his limits known. You need to trust me to respect your limits, and I need to trust you to let me know if I missed a cue and went too far.” His hand goes to my face. “Safewording is not about being weak, it’s about knowing how far you can go, how much you can take, and when too much is too much.”
His finger caresses my bottom lip.
“I need to trust that you’ll safeword, and you need to trust that I won’t be mad because you did. But you also need to understand that I’ll be devastated if you need to safeword but don’t. Does that make sense?”
“Wow. It’s just…”
“Not what you expected, huh?”
“Not even a little.”
He chuckles. “Since I won’t be using any hard toys on you, and you know your color-coded safe words, we should talk about testing. I get tested regularly.”
“I’m clean. I had a physical right before I took on my new job and had the testing lumped in.”
He nods. “And-” He clears his throat. “Protection?”
“I have an IUD.” Just makes things easier.
Dylan’s Adam’s apple jumps. “I’d love to be inside you raw if you’d let me.”
I can’t resist a grin. “Yes. Please.” To feel his cock without any barrier sounds like heaven.
He kisses me. “I would usually sit down and talk about every possible thing, but I…” His fingers slip in between two buttons on my blouse, skin slipping against mine.
I suck in a breath.
He brings his face as close to mine as possible without kissing me. “I need you now.”
I kiss him, a soft press of the lips.
“Then, let’s begin.”
I’m not scared. For some reason, I trust him. I think I’ve trusted him this whole time.
He could have easily used his power over me to take advantage. He could have told me at every turn to be more professional, to not cry at my desk, to have handled Oliver Worthington, to be something I’m not.
Dylan has taken care of me in so many ways already.
I’m ready for him to take care of this.
“It’s my job to tell you when we begin.” The darkness in his voice sends shivers down my spine. “Sit.” He points to the chair.
My insides flare with excitement I never knew existed inside me. I sit on the end of the chair.
Dylan circles to the back of the chair, grabs my hips from behind, and pulls me so I’m flush against the seatback.
“Much better.” His hand ensnares my throat gently, tipping my chin back to look into his eyes.
My neck strains in his hand.
“Take off your shirt.” He releases me and circles back to the front of the chair where my legs are now straddling the cushion.
I tremble as I work button after button.
“Are you trying to tease me, swan?”
“No, I’m going as fast as I can.”
“Did I give you permission to speak, pet?” Dylan leans onto the chair, over me, face only an inch from mine as a sharp sting hits my thigh.
Holy… Heat spreads from the thigh he just spanked to my clit.
I love this. Love the loss of control. “No, but-“
Pain and heat sting my other thigh, his hands caressing the sting away on both sides.
“Next time you talk back,” he growls as his hands go higher on my waist and he pulls down my skirt, throws it to the ground, leaving me only in my panties and half-done shirt, “I might want to find something to occupy that pretty little mouth.”
God, I’m close to coming already just from this alone. I want to push him so bad, to test him, to make him lose control, like he does me.
I smile, eyes falling to the crotch of his pants that are about to burst at the seams with his erection. “Did anyone see you were hard?”
“Looks like the brat is out to play and needs some taming. Very well.” He grabs the collar of my shirt and rips it the rest of the way off me, buttons popping off.
I don’t even have the wherewithal to be worried about what I’ll wear later. Who knew what a feral beast Dylan was?
Dylan has me stand and runs his hands up my torso, cupping my breasts through my bra. “Goddammit, how is a man supposed to think when he knows what you’re hiding under these clothes?”
He kisses the swell of one of my breasts before biting at the skin.
I yelp as a pulse of electricity spins down to my pussy.
Dylan pauses. “Color.”
“Green.”
“Good.”
Bites and nips across my breasts and chest.
I wrap my body around him, giggling at the building ecstasy between us.
Dylan doesn’t take kindly to being grabbed. He takes me by the hand and has me lie down on the bed where he grabs my wrists and forces them back against the headrest. There is a wild look in his eye.
“Who is in charge here?”
I smile. “You are.”
“Then act like it, or I’ll tie you up.” He pauses. “Color?”
I can’t ignore the way my heart quickens. “Green…”
A smile peels across his face. “You’ve never been tied up before.” Not a question. He can see it in my eyes.
I still shake my head.
Dylan leans down and kisses the hollow of my neck. “We’ll start slow. Just the wrists.”
He retreats to a chest in the corner, rifling through what I can only imagine is a menagerie of toys and implements. As I wait, I let my eyes dance across the wall. There is a wide, wooden paddle, a stick with a flurry of feathers on the end, a simple leather belt. A whip.
My body flushes when my eyes land on the riding crop. The triangulated piece of leather at the end of a taut handle. Something about it is…erotic. The soft inside of the leather, the finished outside. The way it taunts me from above.
“Here we are,” Dylan says.
I’m expecting fuzzy handcuffs with bright pink marabou feathers, but instead, Dylan lifts a silken rope from the chest.
Returning to me, I remain quiet as he hooks the rope to the headboard designed for bondage.
“You’re being very good.”
I laugh, a raw sound. “Do you want me to be bad?”
Dylan takes one of my wrists, guides it to the rope, teasing the fabric along the inside of my arm. “I want you to be you.”
With careful but sure movements, he restrains both my wrists, assuring they’re not too tight.
His hands contour and massage my arms as they leave my hands and go all the way to my shoulders. “Remember, you can change your mind at any time. Just say yellow if you need a pause or red if you want me to stop at any time.”
I let out a long sigh, realizing my back has tensed.
Breathe…
