Good Girls Say Yes

By: Penny Wylder

“If we had more than fifteen minutes,” he says softly, “there are lots of things that I could do to show you what this life is about. But right now, it’s simple. Submission isn’t about me holding you down for sex, or about you becoming a doormat. It’s about trust, and offering something to one another. At the most basic level, you offer me power over you in exchange for pleasure, and I offer you freedom from having to make every decision.”

The most basic level, he said. What are the other levels? But now he’s kissing me and I can’t think because I’m once again on fire. Hot arousal rolls through me like a wave, and I moan, unable to help myself. Matthew simply chuckles against my lips and deepens the kiss, as if he knew that I would react this way.

I want more of him. More, more, more is the chant in my brain, and I try to move, to pull him closer, but I can’t. Shock and frustration hit me as I remember that I can’t move my arms. He has them pinned against the wall and all I can do is let him kiss me. My breath goes short in my chest, and I realize that he’s made me wet again. Damn him for being such a good kisser, because that’s all it is. I’m turned on from the kiss, and not from the fact that he’s restricting my movement.

He pulls away for a moment. “Spread your legs.”

I do.


I do, and I’m wobbly on my feet, unstable. If he let go of my arms, I’d probably fall. Which, it dawns on me, is probably the point. His lips brush my ear. “I’m going to touch you now, Emma. I’m going to give you pleasure.” Looking me in the eye, his face goes serious again. “And you do not have permission to come.”

“What?” The word flies from my mouth before I even realize it.

“You may not come until I allow it. End of discussion. And if you speak again, you won’t be permitted to come at all.”

I don’t doubt it. I bite down on my lip to keep the words inside my head. Regardless of what he’s making me do, I need to come. I’ve been too turned on and I think if I had to stop, I might start crying. You never want me to start crying when I’m drunk—I’ll never stop.

Matthew’s free hand trails up my leg, bringing my skirt with it until he reaches my panties and brushes them aside. He tries to hide it, but there’s a short burst of air from him when touches me. “You’re wet for me, and all I’ve done is kiss you. And restrain you,” he grins.

I’m dying to say something, to find a witty comeback, but I keep my lips closed because his fingers are right there, so close to where I want them. His thumb smooths circles around my clit and I gasp because god, that feels good, and it’s been a long time since anyone has touched me. That sweet pleasure is sizzling under my skin and we’ve barely started. I’m guessing we still have ten minutes left, and I’ll probably spontaneously combust before that.

One finger—just one—slides inside me and my body arches away from the wall into him, a reflex I can’t control. God, why is this so amazing? He’s moving slowly, pushing in and out of me, taking his time. His finger curls, stroking that elusive spot just inside that makes my whole body shake. I can feel the beginnings of an orgasm coming together already, and now I know why he has good reason to be confident.

Another finger now, and Matthew is moving faster. I squirm between him and the wall, trying to move closer, do anything that will get me off faster, but between his hands and the way he has me pinned, I’m entirely at his mercy. I close my eyes, sinking into an unfamiliar sensation of blankness. The only thing that is left is the feeling of his fingers teasing me, sending spikes of pleasure through me.

He takes me up and up and up until I’m gasping with need. I’m trying to force my hips down onto his hand faster because I’m so close. Never have I been this desperate to come. I want it—need it—now.

Matthew is watching my face, and I blush because I don’t know that I’ve ever been watched so closely during sex. Or maybe ever. “You’re close,” he says. It’s not a question.

I nod because I don’t think I’d be able to speak; even if he gave me permission.

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