by Abby Gordon
Silently he opened the bag and pulled out two leather strips and secured her ankles to the footboard so her legs were spread wide. He pulled out two more, with a third dangling from the connecting chain. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he wrapped two around her wrists and fastened the third to the bedrails so the cuffs were over her head. Almost reverently, he removed the nipple rings. She gasped as blood flowed freely to her engorged flesh. His dark head bent and his tongue laved each sensitized tip. She moaned and trembled. He raised his head and for a long moment they stared at each other.
Still holding her gaze, he unhooked the harness and pulled it away from her body. He set it aside. Always maintaining eye contact, he maneuvered over her until he was kneeling between her thighs. Feeling his erection brush her hip, she lifted her pelvis, wanting more. He froze and she squeezed her eyes shut. Shit. He’d said not to move unless he told her to.
“Why did you disobey me?”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Please,” she murmured. “Please tell me I didn’t just screw up so badly that you don’t want me.” She searched his expressionless face. “I want you inside me. I need…” She struggled to find the words. “I need you. In me. On me. I don’t know how to explain it, but I need this so badly.”
He blinked but that was the only movement she could see.
“Please,” she whispered. “It’s as if everything I’ve ever wanted or needed, or not even known I wanted and needed, is right in front of me. And I’m terrified that it’ll be taken away before I realize what it is.”
Quincy closed his eyes at the sound of her panic. Her words described their emotions, their situation, everything perfectly. It was how he’d felt when he’d first seen Debbie in the hospital—holding an icepack to her face and trying to simultaneously answer police questions, get examined by the doctor, and keep an eye on Claire and everyone around them. She’d drawn him to her with a heady combination of strength and vulnerability. He would take her, hold onto her, protect her, and take care of her. No one else but her.
His eyes popped open at the soft sound. She was crying. Quincy felt his heart seize at the sight of tears slipping from the corners of her tightly shut eyes
“Debbie, look at me.” She moaned and turned her head on the pillow. “Now.” He could feel her body shaking under his and forced himself to stay still. “Look at me, babe.”
Finally, she turned her head and opened her eyes slowly.
“You’re mine now, sweetheart,” he told her, raising his hips slightly.
Slowly, he moved his body over hers, bracing himself so the only connection was the tip of his penis just above her mons.
“You still want me?” she asked, disbelief in her voice.
“Try getting rid of me,” he told her. “We’ll worry about your confidence problems later.”
“I don’t have confidence problems,” was her quick retort.
“Uh-huh, sure,” he nodded. “You also just earned a spanking for arguing with me.” He smiled. “That’s at least three or four for the day.” She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut. “You do learn quickly,” he smiled in approval. “I think that’s enough talk for a while,” he murmured. “Right now, I have a dick that wants to get thoroughly reacquainted with your heat.”
“About time,” she smiled.
He gave her a look that communicated “after all that, you mouth off?”
“Oops,” she whispered, trying to look sorry and failing miserably.
Pushing off her, he released her wrist cuffs and sat at the edge of the bed.
“Come here,” he said, not looking around at her, but patting the mattress next to him.
Slowly, Debbie released her ankles and crawled around the bed and knelt next to him on the mattress. He patted his lap.
“Stretch out like I had you last night.”
Her eyes opened wide and she swallowed. Nibbling her bottom lip, she obeyed, spreading her body across his thighs. His cock liked that and bobbed against her sleek abs. His hands caressed her back, ass, and thighs.
“Perhaps I should make this a nightly routine,” he commented, putting his right hand between her shoulder blades. His left hand rested on her ass. “You do seem to enjoy a good spanking before bedtime.”
“No…” she started.
His hand rose and fell and her body jumped slightly.
“Don’t argue with me, Debbie.” He spanked her three more times in quick succession. With each slap, her thighs parted. “After your reaction last night? You’ve been needing a man to take control of you.” Two more swats and her left leg slid off his thigh and dangled. “And I am more than willing and able to do that.”
His hand trailed along her right thigh to her pussy. “Mmm, are you wet, Debbie? Is your pussy ready for me to fuck?”
“Yes,” she nodded, trembling as he brushed feather-light strokes along her ass crack. “Please, master. Fuck me.”
With a groan, he slid his hand over her folds, parted them and plunged two fingers into her pussy. Debbie’s hips tucked under and her inner walls clamped down on his fingers as if they were his cock.
“So eager,” he murmured, stroking his fingers in and out.
“Please. Please. Please,” she chanted each time his fingers filled her.
Wanting more, he pulled his hand away. He heard her whimper, but was too focused on one thing—getting his dick into her pussy. He tossed her onto the bed and secured her ankles again. As he knelt between her spread thighs, she put her hands over her head. Bracing himself over her with one arm, he secured her wrists.
“Master, please, fuck me,” she was whispering over and over. “Please, fuck me.”
Hands on either side of her head, Quincy drove his cock into her pussy. Her breath caught as their pelvic bones ground together. He felt her body shudder at the invasion, then relax. Except for the hot, sweet walls that tightened around him.
He flexed his hips and began an age-old rhythm. Up and down, in and just nearly out. Thrust in deep, until her moans became breathless pleas for more. Balancing with one arm, Quincy reached down with the other and teased her clit and felt her muscles clamp down hard around his cock. The expression on her face showed how lost she was in her need and he felt the dampness of her body as the heat in her rose. All the while knowing that she was his. All of her. From the slim, black brows over her lively brown eyes, down the slender nose to the full lips. From the hollow of her collarbone to the slight swell of her breasts, along the trim waist to the flare of her hips and lean muscles of her legs. All of her.
“Please,” panted Debbie. “I’m close. I need…”
“Come with me,” he grunted, nearing his release. His body was a bow being pulled back as far as it could go. The arrow was his cock in her pussy releasing. His breathing increased and deepened as if he was about to make a long underwater swim. He wanted to hold out as long as possible. She was so hot. So tight. And nothing had ever been more perfect than being inside her. “Ohhhh, godddd!” he groaned.
With a loud moan, Debbie’s pussy gripped him in her. Quincy felt his eyes roll back in his head as his brain focused on one thing—release inside Debbie. One of her spasms tripped his internal wire. Hands near her shoulders, he froze his upper body. His cock surged and pulsed. He stared at the wall over the headboard, concentrating on getting the very last drop into her. Finally, he felt his heartbeat slow down and his breathing return to normal. Sated, he gazed down at her orgasm-softened expression.
Smiling, he reached out and freed her wrists. Nestling his hips against her, he kissed the sweat-dampened shoulder.
“That might hold me long enough to feed you so you have energy for tonight.”
One brown eye opened. “What happens tonight?”
He smiled. “Your training begins in earnest.”
“Training for what?” she frowned, opening the other eye.
“For being my submissive,” he reminded her. “Granted, you’ve got the general idea, but there are a few things we need to work out and clar
ify.”
She gave him a long, studying look. “Is this your idea of pillow talk? If it is, you need to work on it.”
“Duly noted,” he smiled. Reluctantly, he pulled out of her silken core, knelt between her thighs again, and released her ankles. “Ready for dinner?”
“Definitely,” she smiled, sitting up and wrapping her arms around his waist when he would have moved. She felt his torso stiffen slightly and dropped her arms. “Sorry,” she whispered.
“Hey,” he murmured, catching her arm when she turned away. “We’re both making adjustments here.” She gave him a wary, skeptical look. “I know I’m not the easiest man to be around, much less live with. And I’ve never lived with a woman. I’m not used to being touched.”
“That’s okay,” she shrugged, pulling her legs under one hip. “I’m not used to it either. Or to touching a man. I’ll probably do something wrong again and get you so pissed at me that…”
She stopped, her breath catching as ancient memories rushed up and took over. Trembling, she curled around her legs, hiding her face against her knees.
“Debbie?”
His fingers brushed against her hair. She squeezed her eyes shut. No! She wasn’t going to let the past get to her. She was stronger than that. She took a deep, shuddering breath and exhaled noisily.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, slowly raising her head. “Just…”
“Lying to me,” he shook his head and sat back on the mattress. “None of this will work if you don’t trust me. How am I going to know when something is hurting you? Or pleasuring you, if you try to deceive me with your body and your voice?”
“I’m sorry.” She swallowed then shook her head. “I just don’t want to talk about it right now.”
“You’re going to have to,” he told her quietly. “Your body language is saying what your mouth won’t. I’m guessing it’s something in your past that is big. So big it’s determining everything in your life right now. It’s why you reacted the way you did last night with Serena. And Claire. Why you didn’t go to MacLauren on your own. And why you seem to think that you screw up everyone’s lives.”
He leaned forward and put two fingers under her chin. “Serena certainly didn’t seem upset this afternoon. Disoriented,” he nodded. “But certainly grateful. Claire might be irritated with your over-protectiveness, but she understands your concern for her. MacLauren has faith in you, otherwise he wouldn’t have made you responsible for his company’s next three deadlines.”
Debbie opened her mouth to argue and his thumb pressed against her lips. “Shut it,” he said sternly. “He is a businessman. He is not going to set you up for failure because then it makes him look worse. Keith put you in charge of those projects because he’s confident in what you can do. Because he knows you’ve got something to prove to yourself, him, and the assholes he fired yesterday.”
Debbie stared at him. She definitely wasn’t used to anyone talking to her like this. Claire hadn’t since their first night sharing an apartment together. Serena had tried yesterday but backed down when Debbie had resisted. Quincy didn’t know the meaning of back down. He just ripped the bandage off and left her exposed.
“I…” She slumped on the bed and nodded. “You’re right. At least about Serena, Claire, and Keith, but you don’t know the rest. And you’re right. I just can’t talk about it right now.”
“Not ‘can’t’,” he corrected. “Won’t. And that means you don’t trust me.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she protested, temper flaring. She met his gaze. “It means I don’t want to deal with it right now when I’ve got all this other shit in my life to deal with.”
“And I’m part of the shit,” he observed.
“No, dammit! Don’t twist my words like that.” Furious at how things had gotten so out of hand, she rolled off the bed and stalked to the bathroom. At the doorway, she turned and glared at him. “And you don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to trust. I still don’t know if Quincy is your first or last name or anything about you. I’ve trusted you a helluva lot more than you have trusted me!”
She closed and locked the bathroom door, then collapsed on the toilet lid. Hands shaking, she rested her elbows on her thighs and put her head in her palms. What the hell had just happened?
Chapter Eight
Staring at the locked bathroom door, Quincy wondered what the hell had just happened. One minute they were talking, then she over-reacted at him pulling back from her hug and then…he had over-reacted. Or under-reacted. Shit. He scowled. And she was right. He’d demanded she trust him more on faith than he should have. He didn’t want to deal with the questions she had a right to ask. He wasn’t used to having to talk about himself. He was definitely too used to the quiet ways of the club submissives. Not that he’d trade Debbie for any of them, he smiled. Quincy wanted her with all her fire, smiles, and quirks. Which meant, he ran a hand through his hair, he was going to have to straighten things out.
Moving quietly to the door, he laid his palm flat against it. He couldn’t hear a sound on the other side. Good luck figuring out what the silence meant.
“Debbie? I’ll start heating up the food. Come out when you’re ready. We’ll both feel better once we’ve eaten.” He listened intently. Still nothing. “We don’t have to talk about everything tonight. At some point soon, yes, but not tonight.” Silence. “What do you say to just eating dinner and getting a decent night’s sleep? I can try to just hold you, but no promises.”
He took a couple slow breaths before he heard movement.
“All right. Dinner and sleep.”
“All right.”
“Does that mean I can’t touch you?” she questioned hesitantly.
He heard the click of the lock and quickly turned the knob before she could change her mind. Against her pale face, the bruise from the night before seemed even more violent. All he wanted was to protect her. He pulled her to him.
“If you really can’t help yourself, you can,” he smiled, burying his face against her neck. “But I’m not responsible if you seduce me.”
“As if I know how,” she shook her head.
“God give me strength when you try then,” he replied, kissing her swiftly. “Come out when you’re ready.”
She nodded and he stepped back. The vulnerability combined with strength in her expression nearly had him hauling her back into his arms. He’d been through several kinds of hell. He could see in Debbie’s eyes that she’d been through another kind, one that had lasted for years.
Leaving the bathroom, Quincy went to the other bedroom and pulled on a pair of black sweatpants. In the kitchen, he piled everything but salad onto two plates and put them on the double-tiered rack in the microwave. Punching buttons, he started that and took out the wine. Rummaging through the drawers for a corkscrew, he considered the situation. He wanted to protect her as much as he wanted to fuck her. He didn’t know what to do with these emotions he’d never felt before. He just knew that he didn’t want any other woman. He didn’t want any other man to touch her. He would beat any man to a pulp if they hurt her, and not just because it was his job.
Pulling the corkscrew out, he screwed it into the bottle and scowled. His job. Once Ben considered Debbie safe, he would be reassigned. Out of the city, or the state, or the country. Away from Debbie. Twisting the cork, he grit his teeth. He’d heard a few elders in his family talk about how a man could become as territorial and possessive of a woman as any other male animal. Of how wolves mated for life. How a man who had found his true mate did what he had to in order to stay with her. Which meant, he realized as he poured the wine, he would need another job. Computers were the most likely area. He might not have an actual degree, but he’d more than held his own in the discussions today. He’d seen the respect and delight in Debbie’s eyes when she talked to herself and he’d thrown out an idea. She hadn’t hesitated to bounce ideas off him. He had a feeling if he hadn’t pulled her out of the office, she would have stayed until
she collapsed.
“Something smells delicious,” her voice came from behind him.
“Talking about me?” he grinned, turning around. His jaw dropped. He’d seen her either naked, in loose work-out clothes, and a fairly fitted, professional suit with a turtleneck. Things that covered up, drowned, and hid her slender, strong body. He never would have imagined her wearing what she was now. “Turn around,” he told her, not surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. It was hard to sound normal when you couldn’t breathe because of the vision in front of you. “Slowly. Let me see you.”
Swallowing, she obeyed. The short gown was a soft, silky navy material that clung to every curve and dip of her body. The spaghetti strings lead to a bodice cut low over her small firm breasts and the hem flared to tease him with a glimpse of her pussy and then her ass.
His silence must have made her nervous because her palms smoothed down the front. The bodice strained over her nipples and he held his breath, willing the rosy tips free.
“Do you like it? I know you said you wanted me naked when it was just the two of us, but I’ve never worn it and wanted to for you.” She caught her lower lip as she looked at him. “Serena gave it to me for my birthday.”
Not trusting his legs, he extended a hand and crooked a finger at her.
“Come here. Let me show you how I like it.”
Relief appeared on her face as she quickly came to him. He took her face in his hands and kissed her. Quincy meant to just kiss her, then give her a glass of wine. Her tongue tangled with his and ventured into his mouth. With a groan, he knew that dinner would have to wait. Again. He didn’t care if he was worse than a dog around a bitch in heat. He wanted inside her. And like she’d said earlier, she wasn’t complaining.
Her hands went to the waistband of his sweats and pushed them over his hips. Before he could lift her, she went down, resting her knees on the sweatpants.
“I’m not sure what to do,” she whispered. “I mean, I’ve read about it in a couple books I borrowed from Serena and seen movies, but I’ve never…”
