11. Maddy

Chapter 11

Maddy

Anticipation slithered over my skin like a whispering flame, igniting goosebumps that yearned for contact as I stepped into Niko's room late in the evening. It had been two days since our intimate discussion about kinks and the depths of our shared desires. Two very long, completely insufferable days as I counted down the minutes — no, the seconds — until we would make good on that discussion.

Niko had required that we take two days to reflect on our conversation and fully think through our decision so that we could renegotiate if the need arose. It was fucking laughable if you asked me. Rethinking this whole thing? Fuck no! What his two days of reflection amounted to for me was an eternity of suffering — in the form of unreleased sexual tension.

Nico walked into the room behind me, and I could feel the tension rising in the deafening silence.

"I've been unable to think about anything but you all day," he sighed heavily, and for once, I echoed his sentiments completely. My thoughts had not strayed far from him and his evocative touch all day long.

"You and me both," I chuckled lightly. The moment of honesty provided much-needed levity to the tension that flooded the room.

"Do you have any questions before we begin?" he asked, walking into his closet and pulling out a large, black canvas bag that sounded as heavy as it looked.

"Nope," I replied, tucking my thumbs into my jeans pockets as I rocked back on my heels.

"Questions are a good thing, you know?" I looked up just long enough to see a smile cross his face.

"I don't have any more questions, Niko. We've talked about this from every direction either of us can think of. When does the questioning end and the fun begin?" I whined petulantly.

With a sigh, he dropped the bag beside the bed, walking back to me slowly. His hands rested on my shoulders as his eyes searched mine.

"I just want to make sure I'm being smart and safe, Maddy. I promise you, this is something I do not take lightly."

"Oh, I've picked up on that, for fucking sure," I scoffed with a roll of my eyes.

"I want to remind you, I love the attitude. I love the bratting. But I also demand obedience, even if it's hard-earned obedience."

"I think I can handle that," I teased, biting my lip as my eyes slid down his face to his broad chest. He was a handsome man, sexy as fuck, and with one hell of a rocking body. And I, for one, could not wait to get my hands on him again.

"I want to be clear about our negotiations. I know I told you that obedience is important. That respect is required. But bratting is just as required. Just stay within the guidelines we set. Sound good?" he asked.

"I remember. All that funishment versus punishment stuff," I replied, waving his words off.

"So why don't you explain it to me, then?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and giving me a challenging, expectant look.

Well, challenge fucking accepted, buddy.

"Well, punishment is not fun. And funishment, obviously, is. It's playing. And it feels good. It's fun. Punishment is to correct a behavior or teach a lesson," I recited easily.

"Very good." I didn't miss the smile that played at the corners of his lips. "Any further questions?"

I shook my head, too excited to speak.

"Kneel for me." His voice, deep and resounding, gave little room for argument, but that didn't mean I was about to give in without a fight. After all, wasn't that the fun of it all?

"Hmm…" I trailed off, touching my finger to my chin as I feigned contemplation. "How about you make me?" My eyes narrowed at him, offering the challenge I hoped he would meet with considerable gusto.

His answering grin was all the proof I needed that the two of us were cut from the same kinky-ass cloth. Slowly, his hand reached out, cupping my cheek with a tenderness that belied our previous encounters. His lips hovered over mine only for a moment as he leaned in, his sigh of contentment almost rendering me speechless as he tenderly claimed my lips with his own. There was none of the previous heat; the fire that had ignited us both in our last encounter was currently a smoldering ember of passion yet to be stoked back into true flame.

I lost myself in the subtlety of his kiss, lips touching lips, his tongue seeking slow and explorative entry. I was swept away. His hand shifted, moving over the curve of my jaw to my neck. Fingertips tickled and teased their way into the tresses of my loose, wavy hair, goosebumps erupting over my skin at his gentle touch.

Suddenly, teasing touches became torturing tugs as he pulled my hair, jerking my head back sharply.

"Fuck!" I hissed against his lips as he grinned in response. Before I could answer, his pressure changed, the tugging pulling me straight down until the pain made my knees buckle beneath me and I lowered reluctantly to the floor. "Jesus! Fuck!" I hissed and hollered every inch of the way.

Shifting a bit on my knees, I made peace with my position, realizing that I had far more power than he probably realized. My hands slide up his thighs, the firm hardness of his muscles guiding my way up to the buckle of his belt. Just as I began to pull, a firm hand gripped my own, swatting my efforts away.

"Ah, ah. I didn't tell you to touch my belt, only to kneel." His swift, firm correction of my actions made me quiver with need. I would do anything to get that bossy side of him to surface more, and I wasn't afraid to press a few buttons — or break a few rules — in order to get what I wanted.

"Oh, so this is a game of Simon Says, is it?" I teased, shooting him a smirk. I had to admit, the idea sounded pretty fucking fun to me. Plus, it would afford me even more ways to push those delightful buttons of his. And really, wasn't that the goal here? To make him lose his mind and go all feral and dark with me? A girl could grow addicted to such behavior.

"You know what? That sounds like quite the idea. Except we'll call it Sir says. You only obey if Sir says to do something, understood?" The gleam in his eye was infectious, spurring my own desires to a fever pitch.

"Yup, yup!" I said with a giggle I could not contain.

"Uh, try again," he scoffed, his eyebrow raised. What can I say? I'm a girl who rises to a challenge. And that eyebrow? That was a fucking challenge.

"Sounds good, bro," I tried again, pushing my luck and loving every minute of it. His jaw clenched, the vein ticking away with his pulse.

Goodie! A new button to push, I said to myself. To seal my fate, I threw him a thumbs up, watching with glee as his eyes narrowed in warning. Those strong hands were on his hips in an instant, giving every bit of the impression of an angry father. I wondered for a moment if calling him Daddy would be too far. As soon as the thought entered my head, I knew I could never call him that, even in jest. Not to yuck anyone's yum, but that was just not for me.

"Madison…" he growled, deep and foreboding. If I were a smart girl, I would have heeded his apparent wa rning. Truth be told, I was a very smart girl. A smart girl who took very calculated risks. Call me a calculator, because I was running the numbers, heedless of the price my ass may have to pay later.

"Ew, no. Don't call me Madison," I pouted, my face scrunching in distaste at my given name falling from his lips.

"What would you like me to call you then?" he teased, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Can't think of something yourself, buddy ?" I was sure that I was bratting my way to a sore, red ass, but — fuck me — I wanted it more than I wanted my next breath. Niko was a breath of fresh air, something I had never encountered before.

"I told you to call me Sir. This is your last warning. Next time gets you a spanking." I couldn't help the way my eyes widened with excitement — or the way my panties flooded with arousal at the thought of being spanked again. I'd had my fair share of cocky fuckboys and frat boy wannabes in my lifetime. Niko — he was something different. Strong, independent, confident. But he had lived. He had seen things. That confidence wasn't bravado. It was pure, well-earned authority. His poise was both bold and calm in equal measure.

I had two choices: continue my bratting until my ass was red, sore, and unable to be sat on — or, I could succumb to his dominance and trust this process we had agreed to. Besides, I had done my fair share of reading, thanks to Jax, and I had a better idea in mind. But that would come in time.

Patience was a virtue, after all — even if it was one I only barely possessed.

"Yes, Sir," I finally answered him correctly, the sigh of acquiescence hissing through my teeth as I rolled my eyes. I would behave — for now.

"Good girl." I could have smacked that smug grin right off his handsome face — if those words didn't flood my panties with arousal. "Now, back to this naming business. Here, stand back up for a little bit. This is actually an important thing to discuss before we begin in earnest."

I took his offered hand and stood, pushing down the twinge of annoyance at the pause in our play. I was more than eager to get started. But choosing honorifics, even temporary ones, was indeed an important thing to negotiate. And thank you again to Jax's book for the knowledge of what honorifics were.

"Well, what are my options?" I asked, fiddling with a strand of my hair; a nervous habit I had picked up as a child and never outgrown.

"The options are truly endless, but many people go with things like babygirl, pet, slave, kitten, or other things like that."

"Do you have a preference for me?" I asked, truly curious about his own thoughts on the matter.

"I'm growing quite fond of princess, if I'm being honest."

"Oh really? Why's that?" I asked.

"Because it means you can be fragile and obedient when necessary. And you can rule a fucking kingdom when necessary, too. I don't know. It just… fits."

"Well, I don't think I can argue with that," I had to agree. And honestly, his reasoning made my heart swell with pride. Did he really think of me that way? Did he see me as someone capable of that kind of strength?

"Plus, when I called you that before, it made your pussy deliciously creamy." Immediately, heat flushed my face at his words.

"I guess we'll just have to test that hypothesis, won't we?" I managed to reply, stammering a bit. I thought I'd covered pretty well, but his knowing grin told me he saw right through that feeble attempt at bratting. He knew full well that he was having the exact same effect on me tonight.

"Oh, I think we'll be putting it through rigorous testing this evening, princess. However, tonight is going to stay pretty simple. Nothing too out there. Do you understand?" he asked, making sure I was staying on the same page as him every step of the way.

I pouted a little, my lower lip sticking out adorably at the idea of not doing new things. Well, I imagined it must be adorable, at least. The things I had read about, the things we had discussed, sounded so wild. I wanted to experience it myself. If bratting wouldn't get me what I wanted, maybe pouting would do the trick.

"Patience, princess. It's a process. You have to walk before you can run," he teased, completely unfazed.

"But I want to have fun ," I reasserted, crossing my arms over my chest and adding to the facade of pouting. I even went as far as stomping my foot for good measure.

"Oh, trust me, you'll have fun." The smirk on his face was so handsome, so goading, I wanted to smack it right off his charming face.

"Promise?" I teased right back, a devilish glint in my gaze.

"Pinky promise." He held out his pinky, linking it with mine and sealing our vow. I gazed up at him warily, but I knew I could trust him. Before releasing the pinky hold, he added, "Are you ready to truly begin?"

"Born ready, buddy."

With a tug, he pulled me in, our lips crashing together, his hand following the line of my jaw to the back of my neck. His fingers toyed and played in the silken tresses, wrapping around and around until, with a forceful tug, he pulled me away as I gasped and hissed.

"Now let's see just how well you can behave, princess," he teased, the husky tone of his desire only making his Russian accent all the more pronounced.

His hand released me as he moved back towards his bag. I watched, enraptured, as he pulled item after item out of the bag. It was like a kink store come to life, all in that one bag. He spread the items out over the desk in the room. I hadn't noticed he had removed the things that normally adorned the desktop.

"Wow," I muttered under my breath. Arousal sparked through me like lightning, nearly burning me alive from the inside out as my eyes roved over the sheer amount of toys and items laid out on the table. Things he was about to use on me.

"A little hot over there, princess?" he teased with a smirk.

"Maybe," I snarked right back, matching that smirk with one of my own.

"Then why don't you turn on the fan?" I thought about his request for all of five seconds before turning towards the door, just as he turned back to his bag. But before I could take a step, another idea lodged itself in my brain and would not be ignored. Quiet as a mouse, I tiptoed towards the bed and laid myself back on it seductively.

"I thought I told you to —" he began, but his words halted as he took notice of me there on the bed. I instantly doubled down on my efforts.

"You are so good at what you do, fan. Keeping me cool and comfortable. It's such a turn-on, don't you think? And those blades, so sleek and sexy. Mmm, I can't think of anything hotter than when you spin round and round. So fast. So effortless. It's just so sexy," I spoke, keeping my voice low and sexy.

"What in the fuck do you think you're doing?" he asked, sounding truly confused. I glanced over at him as covertly as possible, seeing him peering over at me, arms crossed over his muscular chest.

"Just following directions… Sir." I threw a wink his way before letting my eyes wander back up to the fan. I put everything I had into my little display, writhing on the bed, making kissing faces and sounds, even going so far as to dirty talk to the motionless fan above. "You're such a bad fan. Such a sexy, bad fan with those smooth blades. So sexy."

He chuckled, walking towards me, almost stalking me like a predator — a predator intent on devouring his prey. He leaned over me, hands holding my wrists down as I peered up at him from beneath my lashes.

"You're going to be trouble, aren't you?" he said in a tone that almost made me rethink my decisions. Almost..

"Did you honestly think I'd make this easy?"

"Not for one second," he growled, stealing my lips once more in a heated kiss. I lost myself at the moment; his tongue caressing mine, lips slipping over and under one another. As he pulled away, I pouted, whining at the loss of his mouth against mine. His hand found mine, tugging me to my feet as he chuckled.

"Undress me, princess."

"Did you forget how? Aw, poor buddy." I bratted with a chuckle, but as soon as the words left my lips, he pinned me with a look that told me to knock it off. "Yes… sir."

His triumphant smile instantly had me wanting to brat even harder, but I decided to play nice for the time being. Standing before him and gazing up into his eyes, my fingers found the top button of his shirt and undid it. Slowly, my hands followed the line of buttons down, never taking my eyes off of his face.

I noticed with inward glee the way his face changed from that impish grin to a look of hunger as my hands slipped inside the now unbuttoned shirt, around his hips, and up his sides to his shoulders before slipping it off and down his arms to puddle on the floor behind him. My hands trailed back across his chest, and I found myself getting lost in tracing the lines of his rippling muscles.

"Very good, princess. Don't stop there. Or do I need to teach you how to unbuckle a belt?" His voice was full of desire, belying his goading words. I was caught between wanting to brat right back at him and wanting to melt into my own puddle of arousal as the deep rumble of his voice shot straight to my clit.

He took the decision away from me as one of his hands slid around the back of my neck and up into my unruly curls, tugging the way he had just minutes before. This time, I barely resisted as he guided me back down to my knees.

"Now you may touch my belt, princess." He said with a smirk, in that playfully condescending tone he was so fond of.

I almost growled in frustration at having to follow his commands without making him work for it, but I could not very well refuse now, not when I'd been trying to get into his pants not ten minutes ago. So with a strange mixture of reluctance and excitement, I made quick work of the belt, not even bothering to pull it from the loops of his pants before I undid those as well and slid them down his legs, leaving him in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that did little to hide his quickly growing erection.

It was all I could do not to quiver with anticipation as I hooked my fingers inside the waistband of those boxers and pulled them down slowly, revealing the chiseled V shape of his obliques, then a tuft of dark hair, and finally slipping down to free his cock to spring to attention. I couldn't help the way my eyes widened in excitement as his boxers joined the rest of his clothing on the floor.

"Hungry, aren't you, princess?" He teased as his cock was revealed. I licked my lips before I could think better of it.

"Ravenous," I all but purred.

"It'll have to wait." He snapped his fingers sharply, pointing up; a direct indication for me to stand once more. I thought about giving him some snarky response, but thought better of it, choosing instead to stand silently. His words from our negotiation flitted through my mind. "Bratting is about balance. It's about respecting the boundaries, but playing within them."

I could play.

I could play the game as well as he could.