Held

by Marlee Wray

  “Connor, isn’t that enough?”

  He pauses, rubbing my flesh. “A little more, beautiful.” Another round of lighter blows.

  Tears sting my eyes, and the pain blossoms. I whimper and gasp. “Please.”

  He pauses, kneading me. “Almost there. Relax for me.”

  I feel swollen and hot and also on the verge of something satisfying.

  He spanks me several more times on each side until I’m breathless and tears drip from my eyes.

  “Oh, God. Please,” I rasp. “I’m close.” The words slip from my lips before I can stop them.

  “Good.” He lays down several more firm spanks. “This ass is nice and warm,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “Lie on the bed and spread those long, pretty legs,” he says, lifting me up.

  He sheds his clothes, and I do the same. I lie back on the bed and spread myself open for him. He drops down, that thick tongue parting the petals of my sex and sucking my clit. I arch, fisting the soft bedspread in my hands.

  “Connor,” I gasp.

  He raises his head and winks at me, then he lowers his mouth again. He delves inside of me, tasting my heat, my honey dripping on his tongue.

  He’s aggressive, which I love. There’s an animal side of him, and that’s the side I’ve always been drawn to. My toes curl, and I shriek as he rubs my clit.

  He growls. “I want to eat you out forever, but my cock is fucking throbbing for your sweet little pussy.”

  “Fuck me,” I beg, desperate to feel him inside me again.

  It’s all the invitation he needs. He crawls up my body. The head of his rock-hard cock is slick with pre-cum. It rests at my entrance for a moment before it slides inside.

  “That tight fit feels so good,” he groans. He shakes his head. “I knew it would be good between us. But I didn’t know it would be this good.”

  He leans down and crushes his lips against mine, sucking my tongue into his mouth before he plunges farther. It’s exquisite to feel him that deep. I grip his muscular ass and squeeze, encouraging him to take me harder.

  He pumps in and out, causing us both to throb and pant.

  “You gonna let me fuck you however I want?”

  “Yes,” I gasp.

  “Good girl,” he says, then he sucks on my neck, while he drives deep.

  His body rubs relentlessly over my tender clit until I’m writhing desperately and close to coming. He grips my ass. I sink my teeth into my lower lip.

  “Sore?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I want you sore inside and out. I want you to feel me, where I’ve punished and where I’ve fucked you.”

  I shatter, drenching his cock.

  “Mmm. God, yes,” he says. He flips me over and drags me up by the hips. “Relax for me,” he says, the head of his cock at my tiny asshole.

  I relax as much as I can for him. But when he pushes forward and the ring stretches around him, I shudder. “Oh, God. Connor,” I groan.

  He rubs small circles on my back until the burning sensation eases. “Relax your shoulders and rest your chest on the bed.”

  His voice is even and encouraging. I concentrate on relaxing all my muscles.

  “Good girl,” he says, pulling back and then easing forward.

  The heavy intrusion is deeply taboo. I’m shocked and excited at the same time. My stomach clenches with arousal. The sounds he makes and how much he’s enjoying it connect with the lingering lust in my pussy.

  “Just like that. Mmm,” he says.

  He moves slowly at first.

  A strange gnawing pleasure takes hold in me. It’s not unlike the one I get when he spanks me. There’s pain but also a building lust.

  He thrusts deeper, and I cry out softly.

  “Easy, baby. Let it feel good. Your little hole is so stretched by my thick cock.”

  As the thrusts turn more forceful, I’m undone, whimpering and moaning. Tears sting my eyes again, but my pussy is slippery and aching.

  “Rub your clit,” he commands.

  My fingertips tease the bud, moisture dripping onto my hand. I love being used by him, the feel of his powerful body over mine, driving into me.

  “Connor!” I cry, another sharp orgasm gripping me.

  He comes inside me, filling me up. It shouldn’t feel so good, but it does.

  I collapse onto the bed, shivering. He drops down next to me and rolls me toward him.

  “Hey,” he says, studying my face and kissing away the damp on my cheeks. “I love you, Z.”

  “I love you too.”

  He kisses me again, and it feels like something I’ve never felt before.

  It feels like forever.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Zoe

  Later, I go downstairs for a glass of water and find Anvil sitting at the kitchen island, eating barbecued brisket on a brioche bun.

  “Hi,” I say, quickly turning to get a glass.

  “You’re all right?” he asked. “After what you saw?”

  I tighten the sash around my silky robe and turn back to him. I nod. “I’m glad you and Trick were still in Boston. I’m sure that either Connor or I would’ve been shot if—”

  I stop speaking abruptly because Anvil leans forward and covers my mouth.

  When he removes his hand, I nod, understanding. “Just thank you,” I murmur.

  “You’re welcome.” After a beat, he adds, “You’ve been bad a lot. Is that what you’re like? A bad girl?”

  I start to bristle defensively, but catch myself. “I just needed some breathing room.”

  “You chose the wrong friend to hang with. He twittered and all that. It’s how they found you.”

  Heat rises in my cheeks. I know he’s right. Rico was a hastily made choice. I should’ve chosen a friend who didn’t need to livestream his eyebrow waxings.

  “You put us all at risk. Trick especially.”

  “I didn’t choose all this. You guys did.”

  His big hand catches my forearm and holds me in place. “So choose.”

  I open my mouth, but no sound emerges. He’s not squeezing, not hurting me. If anything he seems to be imploring me.

  “What’s going on?” Trick asks, entering the kitchen.

  I glance at him. His hair is mussed like he’s been sleeping.

  “Choose,” Anvil murmurs, giving my arm a gentle squeeze.

  “I’m staying with C,” I whisper. “I already told him.”

  His hand slides down and closes over mine, squeezing it for a second before releasing it.

  “We were talking,” Anvil says, returning to his plate.

  “About?” Trick asks, getting a lime and a Coke from the fridge.

  “Bad little girls and good ones.”

  Trick looks over his shoulder and smirks. “My favorite subject.”

  “I should probably go back upstairs,” I say.

  “Okay,” Trick says.

  “Do not make any popcorn.”

  He laughs. “Bring it in,” he says, holding out his arms.

  I hesitate for a moment, but then step forward. He hugs me, and it’s a really good hug. I find myself leaning into it.

  When it’s over, I head quickly back upstairs, not realizing until I’m in the bedroom that I forgot my water. I drink a couple of swallows from the bathroom sink’s tap and go back to bed. My sleep is restless.

  * * *

  Zoe

  “Wake up, Zoe,” C murmurs in my ear.

  “Hmm?”

  He pushes my hair back from my face.

  “What time is it? Please don’t say we have to go back to Boston.”

  He strokes my back. “No, but we do have a little business to wrap up.”

  “Ugh, it’s so early, Connor!” I pout.

  “No, it’s not. It’s eleven, baby.”

  “Eleven?” I mumble, glancing around. I usually wake around ten-thirty. I guess I was exhausted. “All right,” I say, sitting up.

  C leans back against the headboard.
“You’ve made some choices that have affected you and me, and Trick and Anvil. And I’ve let you get away with it.”

  “I know. I’ll try to be better from now on.”

  He nods. “The thing is you can’t really pay restitution or take on work for either of them to make up for it. And that’s how we roll. We don’t make many mistakes these days, but back when we started, if one of us incurred a debt to the others, we figured out a way to pay that off. It wasn’t about the money or whatever. It’s about respecting the bond. About having each other’s backs and knowing the others appreciate it and will do the same. To be able to count on someone in any situation... I don’t take that lightly because I know how rare it is.”

  I stare at him.

  “There’s a price for being reckless. The other night Trick paid the price for you, for your poor choice of company in Boston.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  “You’re mine. They expect me to punish you, which I will. They also expect you to make amends. We can do that all at once and put it behind us.”

  “How?”

  “I can let them do it.”

  I shake my head vigorously, getting out of the bed and backing toward the door.

  Connor holds up a hand. “You don’t need to run, Zoe. I’m giving you a choice. If you want to spend weeks trying to come up with a better way, you can. But think about what he did. If you want to make him strawberry waffles for breakfast as amends, you’ll be doing that for fifty years. Or you could do this one thing that he’ll appreciate more than five decades’ worth of waffles.”

  I swallow, butterflies crashing into each other in my belly. “Can I think about it?”

  He nods.

  * * *

  Zoe

  I spend all day in tense contemplation. It’s not that I think they’ll be so rough I won’t be able to take it. I already trust Trick and Anvil to protect me in the ways that count. It’s more that I’d be so vulnerable and the boundaries between me and C’s guys would come down in a way that could probably never be restored. Do I want that? What would that even mean?

  I avoid all of them, even Connor. I spend time working through some choreography changes for the show and on watching some old musicals that always inspire me. I have a few snacks, but shake my head when C asks if I want to go out to lunch.

  Finally, I work up my courage and seek Trick out. He’s alone in the media room, watching a business channel.

  “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey,” he says, turning his attention from the screen to me.

  I sit on the couch next to where he’s reclining. “So, I’m sorry that I didn’t take your advice about going for a run or to lunch with my cast mates to deal with feeling stir-crazy.”

  He nods.

  “Connor explained how things work.”

  “He did?” he asks, surprised. “How which things work?”

  “He said I needed to make amends for putting you and Anvil in a difficult position.”

  Trick studies my face.

  “He suggested something.” I push my hair back, exhaling, and look around. I feel my cheeks flush.

  “I wouldn’t actually make popcorn, Zoe,” he says seriously.

  “No, he suggested that you and Anvil should be the ones to... you know.”

  “To punish a bad little blackbird?”

  I roll my eyes and smile. “I guess.”

  “I should be the one. What did ‘Vil do? Walk around? Drive a car? Screw him. He can watch, but that’s it.”

  I chuckle. “You guys really don’t get along?”

  “You sure you’re down for this?” he asks. “If you make C do the punishing, it’ll go easier for you.”

  “Make C do it?” I scoff. “C likes doing it.”

  “C likes playing with you, but he doesn’t like punishing you hard. As bad as you’ve been, you shouldn’t be able to sit there comfortably. And he said as much that first night, before he even made you his girl. He can’t be rough enough with you. He’s too in love.”

  “He’s punished me plenty hard.”

  He smiles and shakes his head. “C’s so worried about not clipping your wings, he let you talk him into letting you run wild in Boston. You almost got yourself trapped in a real cage. If Frank had gotten you into his compound, getting you out would’ve been a bloodbath.”

  I purse my lips. “So you would’ve just kept me prisoner here instead?”

  “Definitely.”

  “You know, you’re not exactly making me want to trust you right now.”

  He laughs. “You can trust me to give you what you deserve.”

  “Trick, I don’t think we’re going to be friends.”

  He grins. “I’m not looking to be your friend yet, Z. You’re a bad little Alice who doesn’t know her way around Wonderland and needs some hard lessons on navigating this world.”

  “I know plenty. I’ve been friends with Rachel a long time.”

  “And yet...”

  I scowl. “I’ll let you do what you think you need to do. But next time don’t come to Boston or wherever. I can’t afford to owe you things.”

  His teal eyes flash with amusement. “It’s cute how you think you can give me orders. Like I said, a lot to learn.”

  I lean back, shaking my head furiously.

  “Should we get this thing done? Or do you need to stew over it for a few days?” he asks.

  I raise my middle finger.

  He continues smiling. “When you go to get C so he can watch, stop by the kitchen and get a hand of ginger and a paring knife.”

  “Why?” I ask suspiciously.

  “Because I say so,” he says, the challenge unmistakable.

  When I leave the room, I go directly to Connor. I have no idea all the things I’m saying, only that I speak rapidly, curse, and wave my arms a lot.

  Connor gives me a hug and tells me to relax. This infuriates me, and I stare daggers at him.

  “He’s teasing you. It’s actually a sign that he respects you. If he thought it would make you fall apart, he wouldn’t do it.”

  I swear some more. “What’s wrong with you guys that this is how you run your personal lives?”

  C raises a brow, but says, “Vanilla’s too plain for us. You must’ve heard the rumors.”

  I wave a dismissive hand and march from the bedroom, my flaming anger driving me onward. I get the ginger and the paring knife. I stalk out of the kitchen and into the hall.

  “This way,” Anvil says, blocking my path to the media room. He points at a door.

  I go into the downstairs guestroom where Trick is waiting. It’s big and lovely and betrays nothing of what it’s about to be used for. Then I spot the top of a dresser where a bunch of BDSM tools are arranged. I thrust the ginger root and paring knife at Trick.

  “You have to be able to perform,” Trick says casually. “So spanking you hard enough for you to feel it for days or anything that would leave marks that could be seen when you’re in your costume aren’t an option.”

  “What does that leave?”

  “Come here,” Anvil says, drawing me away from Trick and speaking in a low voice. “Thirty or forty minutes. Just uncomfortable. You’ve had harder workouts than this will be.”

  “What is this? Good dom, bad dom?”

  Anvil looks surprised and then smiles slowly. “With me the good one?”

  I nod.

  He bends forward so his forehead touches mine for a moment. Then he grabs a bar with cuff restraints attached and drops it on the bed. He picks me up and sets me on it. I try to move away, but he grabs my ankles one at a time and secures them to either end of the bar.

  “Wait!” I shriek as he drags my arm back, making me fall forward onto the bed.

  Anvil secures my left wrist in a cuff that’s next to the left ankle. He repeats the maneuver with my right wrist. My face and neck are on the bed, my butt’s up in the air, and there’s no way for me to take any other position. I’m grateful that I’m wear
ing lace boy shorts and a tank top because it means that despite the position, I’m covered.

  Connor leans over me and strokes my hair. “Hey, you’re all right.”

  I’m sure I’m wild-eyed. I’m in a panic and can’t catch my breath.

  “Go, C. You don’t need to be here,” Trick says. “She’ll be fine.”

  “Connor!” I rasp. “Don’t let them—let me out.”

  He kisses my temple. “Calm down, Z. You’re okay.”

  “Move,” Trick says, giving C’s shoulder a push.

  Connor moves one step to the side, but doesn’t stop touching me. His hand in my hair lets me know he’s not abandoning me.

  Trick’s voice is a whisper in my ear. “You nearly got yourself and C killed. You know what I had to do to protect you. It could’ve been avoided, and it could still come back on me. Take your medicine.”

  “That’s enough,” C says, pushing Trick away. “Get out. I’ll do it myself.”

  “Wait,” I whisper.

  “We should do this. Zoe and I,” Trick says. “Right, Zoe?”

  I rattle the restraints. “I’m scared.”

  Trick drops to a knee, so our faces are close, our eyes locked. “There’s no halfway,” he whispers. “If you’re one of us, then I’d do anything for you. And you’d do anything for me. I proved myself to you. It’s your turn. Be a good girl.”

  I squeeze my eyes closed. “I’m scared.”

  “Fear’s there to be conquered.”

  “Zoe,” C says softly. “It’s all right. You don’t need to do anything—”

  “C,” Trick admonishes.

  “Fuck off, Trick,” Connor grinds out. “It’s too fucking much. Uncuff her, ‘Vil.”

  When I’m uncuffed, I scramble up, still trying to catch my breath. Connor tries to pull me into his arms, but I resist. “No, don’t. Not yet.” I look at the restraints and then at Trick. “I wasn’t ready.”

  “You ready now?” he asks.

  I’m shaking so hard my teeth practically rattle. “I think so. Yes.”

  Anvil takes the bar away. “It’s overkill anyway. Tie her wrists behind her with some silk. There’s no escape unless we allow it. Figging’s enough. No need for a bar.”

  “Then you’re in charge of holding her when she wiggles all over the bed,” Trick says.

  “I will be in charge of that,” Anvil agrees. “I’m not fucking lazy.” Anvil hauls his shirt over his head.