Baby for the Beast

by Penelope Bloom

  To see something so perfect and pure that has been broken and abused makes my blood boil. It makes me want to hurt. To kill. But more than that, it wakes an unstoppable need in my chest to take her into my care and protect her from any more harm, to give her a chance to heal so the world can see how fucking sublime she is.

  She’s my perfect stranger. My princess. Whether she realizes it or not, I have no plans to let those long legs walk out of my life. So I’m going to start by giving her a night she’ll never forget.

  I take the ice cube and hold it up to her. I let the anticipation build. Used properly, anticipation and suspense work just as well as pain and discomfort. They are all tools, and crafting the perfect sexual experience is much like building a fine piece of art--something extraordinary can be made with the most simple tools, or even no tools at all, but mastery of every tool can lead to something so exquisite it could have never been previously imagined.

  I wait until the flicker of her eyes from the cube to her mound tells me she has connected the dots and knows what I’m about to do. Using the edge of the cube, I take my time drawing a line from her bellybutton to her entrance, where I apply just enough pressure to ease the cube inside her. They are small cubes, roughly the size of a bottlecap, and I know her heat will make short work of them, so I don’t stop yet.

  She’s watching me with fascination, eyebrows pulled together and mouth open. I can already see the way the ice is melting and running out of her pussy in a thin line of water. I can hardly wait to lick it up, but I want her to have the full experience, so I don’t stop yet.

  I tease her with each cube, tracing wandering paths across her body and sometimes following with my mouth to give her the contrasting sensation she needs, but one by one, I get five cubes of ice inside her pussy.

  I can’t deny myself anymore, so using the flat of my tongue, I lick up her thigh where the water has run from her pussy all the way up to her clit, loving every fucking second of it. She cries out, body rocking against the restraints and eyes squeezed shut.

  By now, the cold is likely getting intense, especially for someone who isn’t used to this. Thankfully, the cure she needs is one I’ve been dying to give her since I first laid eyes on her. I yank beneath the table to give her leg restraints enough slack to let me bend her knees until I have her where I want her.

  “You’re not going to take them out first?” she asks, looking down with sudden panic.

  “And spoil the fun?”

  I don’t give her time to dwell on it as I ease the tip of my cock into her, planting both hands on either side of her head so I can hold myself up and watch the expression on her face.

  “You feel it, don’t you?” I ask as I work just the first few inches of my cock inside her warmth. I stop when I feel the cold of the ice, not wanting to push it deep inside her, only to shock her system with the contrast of the heat of my cock and cold of the ice. “The way the cold makes your body tingle all over? How it makes your pussy tighter for me until your walls are practically choking my cock?”

  “I feel it,” she says, eyes closed and head tilted back.

  “Too much of a good thing can make you numb, but just the right amount…” I say, stretching her with another inch of my cock and pushing the remnants of the ice deeper inside her. I let out a grunt of enjoyment as the melting ice makes her walls feel shockingly cold around me. I know it will only be moments before the ice has completely melted, and I’m going to make her cum as she feels heat return to her core. “And you’ll cum like you never have before. Give yourself to me for tonight, princess. Surrender your body. Surrender everything.”

  “Yes,” she says, breathing heavily. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good fucking girl,” I growl. The last of the ice drips between our bodies, and I hold nothing back. I thrust into her, bending to suck her erect nipples, giving her even more of the warmth I know her body is craving.

  “God,” she cries. “Jayce…”

  I never find out what she was going to say, because her pussy is like a hot glove gripping me now, and with a subtle adjustment of my hips, I hit her exactly where I know she needs it. The plan was to pull out, to see how gorgeous she looks with my cum covering her tits and stomach, but for the first time with a woman, I lose control. I lose every last shred of restraint. I might be the dominant, but in the moment she’s the one dominating my body. I relentlessly plow into her supple body, until the sounds of my pelvis slapping against hers drowns out my every thought.

  She cries out in a single, long, unending syllable of bliss. I clench my teeth as my orgasm rocks me to my fucking core. My cock pulses for what seems like ages, filling her with cum as each wave of pleasure rips through me. When I finally pull out, she’s still shaking from her own release. I could overload her senses, push her even deeper into her pleasure, but I don’t. I ease myself down from the bench, feeling lightheaded.

  “Lie still, princess,” I say softly when she tries to lift her head to see what I’m doing. “I’m just removing the restraints. I need to make sure you don’t have any friction burns, and I’m going to use an ointment that should help with any unseen irritation.”

  I move to the curtains and press the button, giving us privacy again. Her aftercare isn’t something for the eyes of anyone else. This is our moment.

  She lowers her head with the slightest hesitation, but seems to understand. I put more lotion in my hands once I’ve unbound her. I take my time inspecting her inch by inch. I’m not just making sure she is unharmed after our experience, I’m trying to commit every line and curve to memory. “You’re a masterpiece,” I say as I rub some of the circulation back into her wrist.

  She lowers her eyes, but says nothing.

  “You act ashamed when you’re complemented. Why?” I ask.

  Her eyes dart to mine but she looks away again. “I’m not sure.”

  I grip her wrist a just a little tighter. “You won’t lie to me.” It’s not a question. Not a threat. It’s just a statement. It’s a reminder for her own sake--that she knows she can’t hide anything from me. I don’t care if she sees me as a stranger or a one night stand. I refuse to let her hide from me.

  She sighs, rolling her head to the side and staring toward the far wall. “It makes me feel stupid, maybe. Naive. Because so many men work their way into my life with shallow compliments. I used to believe them, like them, even. But now it just feels like a trap, I guess. Like I’d be stupid to latch onto it and let it mean anything.”

  I nod. Stepping back into my briefs and pants as I talk. “The heart is a fragile thing. People talk as if the heart can grow tough and resistant to the world, but I’ve never thought it worked that way. I think we put up walls. We close ourselves off because we want to protect our hearts like our lives depend on it. Maybe they do…”

  I hand her her dress, which she takes and slides over her head as she sits up. “If our hearts don’t get tough, what does?” she asks.

  “This,” I say, touching a gentle finger above where the bruise on her side is and then below her eye. “This,” I add, pointing to her forehead. “I think your heart is worth protecting, princess. And I don’t want to see your beautiful body have to take another scratch in its defense.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Let me be your shield. Let me be your Dom. I can take care of you.”

  She laughs, shaking her head while watching the ground. “We just met,” she says, but her tone doesn’t convince me she’s truly objecting.

  “And?” I ask.

  She glares at me, but somehow it’s more adorable than frightening. “And I’d be crazy if--”

  “You let me put ice cubes in your pussy and give you the best sexual experience of your life?”

  She closes her mouth, giving me a glare that is actually a little frightening. “If I told myself this was more than just a hook up. I mean, God,” she says, putting her palm to her forehead and leaning her head back with a sigh. “I just had unprotected sex with a com
plete stranger. What was I thinking?”

  “You mean that’s not a normal Friday for you?” I ask.

  “Actually, this is a normal Friday for me. I wake up finding myself in the middle of a relationship I’d do anything to get out of and realize I’m a complete mess and keep making the same mistakes over and over again. See this is what I mean, I make bad decisions when it comes to men. This,” she says, pointing to the room as her lips twitch from holding back tears. “This was just my most recent mistake. But I’m not sticking around to see the horrible ending this time. I may be a slow learner, but even I can see this end coming from a mile away. I’m sorry,” she says, picking up her shoes and storming out the door.

  She slams it behind her, leaving me standing in the middle of the room. I could go after her. I could convince her to stop and talk to me more--convince her I’m different, that being with me wouldn’t be the same. That’s not what she needs right now, though. She needs time. I may not have the patience to wait long, but I can give her tonight to figure things out. Tomorrow, she’s mine again.

  26

  Miley

  I blow out a long, frustrated sigh as I stand over the stove top. I’ve got eggs scrambling, bacon cooking, and biscuits cooking in the oven. If that wasn’t enough, I have some turkey sausage in the microwave and a chocolate muffin on standby if I make it that far.

  When Kyle steps out of his bedroom in our shared apartment, he raises an eyebrow. “Damn, sis. How much do you think I’m going to eat?”

  “This isn’t for you,” I say shortly.

  He pauses, rubbing the mess that is his hair. He narrows his eyes, tilting his head and moving closer until I feel like he’s going to see exactly what I’m thinking. “The fuck happened last night, anyway? Bates had to cover your shift when you never came back. You didn’t get caught up with some creeps in the back, did you?”

  “No,” I say, swallowing hard. I’ve never been a good liar, especially not when it comes to my brother.

  “Was it Jayce?” he asks. I can see him tensing. As much as I love Kyle for how he protected me when dad was at his worst, I hate that I can see some of dad in him. Kyle may find a more honorable way to channel his anger, but the same rage boils inside him that always boiled inside dad. The difference is dad took it out on his kids.

  “It didn’t mean anything,” I say, letting out the breath I was holding. “It was dumb. I told him we shouldn’t see each other again. So you don’t need to--”

  “That fucking creep,” growls Kyle. “Does he know you’re barely twenty-three? How old is he? Thirty? More? You’re like a fucking kid to him.”

  “Kyle…” I say. “I told you. I told him. It was a one time deal. Just forget it.”

  Kyle shakes his head, like it’s already forgotten. “Yeah, well that’s for the best. Apparently he’s into some dark shit. Like some really fucked up criminal kind of shit.”

  “What?” I ask. “He didn’t seem like the type.”

  “You two did a lot of getting to know each other last night?” Kyle asks in a tone that rubs me the wrong way.

  “Maybe we did,” I say defiantly.

  “Well, I guess he failed to mention the human trafficking scandal from a few years ago. Everybody talks about it. They say he was selling young girls to members of his club in some kind of black market auctions.”

  “How do I know you’re not just making this up to keep me away from him? That you’re not just trying to decide who I do and don’t date?”

  “You don’t, Miley,” he says, voice full of frustration. “But maybe if you thought about it for two seconds, you’d realize I’m the only person in your life who has ever actually tried to protect you.”

  I know he doesn’t mean for them to, but his words bite straight through me. My chin quivers with the threat of emotion. I push it down. I’m not going to be so weak. I can be strong. I can be tough. It’s like Jayce said, I can put my walls up.

  “Say I believe you,” I say after a moment. “Even if I was still planning on seeing him again--which I’m not--what am I going to do, just ask him if he’s ever participated in human trafficking?”

  “Maybe ask around at work tonight. You might be surprised what you hear. Anyway, I’m going for a run. Don’t eat all that yourself, you’ll have a heart attack.”

  “If I ever decide to go back,” I say dryly as he laces up his shoes and throws on a hat before heading outside.

  I snatch up a piece of bacon and bite into it angrily. I feel like a spoiled brat for thinking it, but I wish Kyle would butt out of this one. I’ve needed him and appreciated his help my whole life, but just once I wish he’d let me deal with my own mess. I already decided to stay away from Jayce, even if I had the hottest dreams of my life starring him last night.

  I grab a biscuit, not caring that it’s so hot it burns and take a bite out of it that’s so big my cheek puffs out like a squirrel stashing nuts for winter. “Stupid men,” I say through a thick mouthful of food.

  More like stupid me, though. I already made an appointment to get tested for STDs this morning, because I was reckless enough to let him inside me without a condom. It was so easy to justify in the moment. My brain felt like it was floating on a cloud of white light, like the real world was miles and miles away. I told myself the chances of getting pregnant or catching something were so minimal, that I’d regret it if I stopped him and made him find a condom. Now that sunlight is pouring through the windows? I feel like the world’s biggest idiot. He could’ve gotten me pregnant, for all I know. And if what Kyle said about him is true, there’s no way I could let a guy like that into my life, let alone my baby’s.

  My baby.

  Excitement mingles with a strong, strong dose of anxiety, making me feel so nauseous I can barely swallow down the huge bite of biscuit I took. I made my choice, however reckless it was. But if by some cruel twist of fate, I am carrying his baby? I owe it to myself and my potential unborn child to go back to the club and ask questions. My decision to continue working at the club or not just became an easy one. I need to know if there is any truth to what Kyle said about Jayce.

  27

  Jayce

  The music of the club pounds through the air, ringing in my ears and vibrating in my chest, but I hardly notice. Ever since last night, my mind has been laser focused on one thing and one thing alone. My princess. Miley. I probably should be embarrassed that I had to dig that up in the club’s employee records, but fuck it. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and I wanted to know her name.

  I’ve spent my whole life searching for the right woman. For years, it felt like something was wrong with me. Every relationship seemed shallow and pointless. Sex felt like a stiff exercise, an obligation, even. Then I happened to learn about my older brother Leo’s interest in BDSM. I wondered if maybe that was the missing piece, if maybe the reason I never seemed content with my relationships was because they weren’t the right kind.

  So I dove in. It felt right for the first time, like the world resonated with me. The only problem was I quickly developed a sense for what I wanted in a submissive. The bigger problem was as much as I knew there was something specific I was waiting for, I couldn’t put it into words. It was just a knowing that nothing and no one was living up to my desires. It became a dull ache in my chest, a longing that never seemed to go away or subside. I tried a few relationships after I stepped into the world of BDSM, but nothing was ever right.

  Then I saw Miley last night. It was like the fucking room stood still, like everything stopped mattering in that moment except making her mine--completely and totally. I knew there wasn’t anything to stop me from taking her, from showing her the power of what we could have together. I just wish I had the self-control to use a condom. I’ve always told myself I never wanted kids. My mom got sick shortly after she had me and passed away. I know it’s stupid, but I’ve always blamed myself, like bringing me into this world is what killed her, or at the very least what weakened her enough that she couldn
’t fight.

  If I got Miley knocked up, I’d be scared to death something would happen to her. As much as I might want to become a father, I wouldn’t ever risk the woman I love for such a selfish reason. I couldn’t survive having everything I want snatched away because of me.

  Letting her leave was the hardest thing I’ve done in a long time, but it was the right move. I could see the pain of Miley’s past etched in her eyes. I saw how she’s put her trust in the wrong men and had that trust betrayed, how she’s been abused, taken advantage of, and forgotten. She needs to understand that she’s free. I can’t snare her with force. The only way is to let her realize for herself how badly she wants to be mine, to be owned by me.

  So I have to wait. And now the wait is almost over, because she’ll be coming in for her shift in a couple hours. But I don’t plan to let her get much work done.

  The club is busier than usual tonight, but I spot Miley’s brother, Kyle, as he comes through the front. He’s tall and built like he might have been a football player in high school or college. He notices me and changes directions, heading straight for me.

  “Jayce--ah, Mr. Carlyle,” he says, correcting himself but not sounding sorry for the disrespectful slip. “I wanted to talk to you.”

  I size Kyle up, taking in the set of his eyes and his posture, doing my best to measure what kind of man he is. I can see that he probably looks after his sister, but there’s something else I sense about him--something I’m not sure I like. “About?” I ask, not bothering to hide my irritation. Let him see that I don’t like him. I’ll get a better sense of what kind of man he is than if I fake a smile and shake his hand.

  “My sister.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Go on.”

  “She’s already in a relationship. His name is Cade.”

  “Not anymore. She broke things off with him. She told me as much last night.”