by Jane Henry
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he quickly took it out. “Gotta take this, honey.”
“Okay,” she said. “Hey, I really need to hit the ladies’ room.” The thought of sitting on his bike as they jostled through the city had her feeling near desperate, and it appeared he understood.
He answered the phone, and held a finger up to her. “Slay, just a minute.” He covered the mouthpiece, frowning, but finally relenting. “You can go back to the coffee shop where we got the sandwiches, and you can run in before we hit the road again, okay?” His eyes grew serious as he seemed to realize that she would be out of his sight, but what else could he do? He couldn’t very well accompany her to the ladies’ room.
“I’ll be fine,” she said, certain that Chalo whatever-his-name-was wouldn’t be hiding his cronies in a little bathroom at some local beach dive.
“Okay,” he said. “Be quick about it.” He nodded, turning back to his phone, and she scurried to the ladies’ room.
“Hey! Grace!” Startled, Grace turned to look, only to find Julie standing by the coffee shop with a paper bag in one hand, a cup of coffee in the other. “You here with Donnie?”
Grace nodded, suddenly feeling uneasy. Was she supposed to tell people she was with Donnie? But Julie only gave her a faint smile, before turning to go. “Okay,” she said. Though Grace couldn’t put her finger on it, something felt off, wrong. “See you later,” Julie said, waving and turning to go. Grace breathed a sigh of relief, as she made her way to the restroom. When she came out a few minutes later, she walked quickly with her head down back to join Donnie.
“Got a light, sweetheart?” Grace jumped, not realizing there was a stranger standing in the shadow of a vacated shop.
“No,” she said, keeping her head down, and walking faster. The man was hooded, and though it was broad daylight, there was something about the look in his eyes that made her shiver.
“Well aren’t we rude,” the man said, quickening his pace.
“Leave me alone,” Grace said, picking up her pace, trying to outrun him, but within seconds, she felt him grab her elbow. She yanked back and screamed, and the second she did, the man’s grip loosened and she felt a whoosh go past her as the man was lifted bodily off the ground. Grace gasped, spinning around, covering her mouth with her hand as Donnie dragged the man down a deserted path between the buildings, and threw him against the wall.
“Donnie!” she screamed, but she knew there was no stopping him. His eyes were mere slits, his jaw set, as he delivered a vicious blow to the man’s jaw. She heard the sickening sound of the man’s head snapping back, of him falling to his knees. As Donnie lifted the man and kneed him in the chest, Grace could see it, the boy she grew up with, the one with a temper and a nerve strong enough to break legs. He wouldn’t hold back. He’d beat the hell out of this asshole.
“You don’t fucking lay hands on my woman,” Donnie growled, delivering another wicked blow.
“Donnie, stop!” she begged, afraid he would gain attention on the street, and that was the last thing they needed, but Donnie ignored her, delivered one ferocious blow after another, until the man, bloodied and bruised, slumped over. Donnie grabbed the man by the front of his shirt.
“You ever fucking touch her again, I’ll kill you,” he said, dropping the man to the ground.
Grace felt her jaw slacken, and a wave of nausea hit her stomach, but she had no time to think, as Donnie grabbed her hand, panting but silent, and half-dragged her to the bike.
“Get on,” he growled, as he flicked on his phone and held the bike as she mounted it. He slammed the helmet on her head, not so hard it hurt, but not gently, then swung his leg up and over his Valkyrie. He revved the engine, then growled into the phone. “Beat up a son of a bitch on the corner of North and Elm. He’s conscious, yeah. I lost my shit.” There was a pang of regret in his voice. “Yeah. Motherfucker touched Grace.” His voice had hardened, and the regret suddenly evaporated.
She latched her arms around his waist as he ended the call. Pulling away from the corner, he headed out onto the street. Though part of her was sickened by the brutality, she couldn’t help but feel… awed. He’d come to rescue her. He’d kick the ass of anyone who tried to hurt her. He was still, even now, her hero, even as he’d laid waste to the creep who dared to touch her… especially as he did. She knew he’d done his best to detach himself from his brutal upbringing, sought to control his temper and violence, and likely felt sickened himself by the way he’d snapped. But did he have regrets? She wasn’t sure.
Did she?
As the sun sank low on the horizon, she sat by his window, waiting. After breakfast on the beach, he’d gone back to The Club, ordering her upstairs. He had to check on things, he’d said, but he was only gone for short periods of time throughout the afternoon and evening before he came back up, making sure she was safe and secure.
“What is it, Donnie?” she asked at one point. “I’m fine.” But he refused to answer, and did she really need him to? He’d snapped. Her safety was important to him, and the moment he’d gotten the barest whiff of danger, he’d lost all control. But he couldn’t lock her up and throw away the key. They had to move on. He had work to do, and he couldn’t very well keep her in his pocket.
The door jangled. She knew it was late, so late that in just an hour or two, the tinges of early morning sunlight would be peeking in through the window. By now, she knew the routine, that he’d done his late night rounds and The Club was now vacated. She heard the reassuring clomping of his boots as the door shut and the lock clicked into place. She scrambled up from where she was kneeling by the window, just as he came in the room.
“You all right?” he asked. It was the first thing he’d asked every single time he’d checked on her all day long.
She sighed. “Donnie,” she said, in a voice she hoped was soothing. “I’m fine. Really, honey. Please. Let it go.”
“Let it go?” he said, running a hand through his hair as he drew closer to her. “Some motherfucker touches my woman, and I bust his ass, and you tell me to let it go?”
Her eyes fell to his hand, swollen and bruised, a red laceration across his knuckles. But as she reached for his hand, he pulled away, shaking his head. He shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it up on a hook in the closet.
“Matteo’s covering for me tonight. Slay checked in on things by the beach, and Blake’s giving me the rest of the week off.”
The rest of the week off?
Grace moved to his side as he sat on the bed and removed first one boot, then the other. “Like… you got in trouble?” she asked.
Scowling, he lifted his eyes to hers. “I’m not the one in trouble, babe,” he said.
Her heart gave a sudden flutter, and her palms grew sweaty. “Um… what?” she asked.
He frowned. “We’ve got men on you. You know that.” He sat up now, and crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you ran into Julie right before I kicked that guy’s ass?”
Oh.
“I… forgot,” she faltered, suddenly feeling her pulse pick up. “I didn’t know I was supposed to tell you that.”
He inhaled, then exhaled, seemingly attempting to calm his temper. “Come here,” he said, pointing one large finger at the bed next to him. On trembling legs, she obeyed.
Folding his hands on his knee, he gave her a stern look. “Just because I took a call didn’t mean I wasn’t watching. I’ve been too laidback letting you do things like go to the beach, even if I’m with you. Shit happens. And yeah, babe, when you see one of the few people I can count on my hand that even knows you’re here, right before I kick some loser’s ass for touching you, you tell me that shit. Yeah?”
She nodded, her mouth growing dry as her palms dampened. Swallowing, she tried to answer. “Yeah. I get it.” Her voice faltered. “I—I’m sorry, Donnie.”
What exactly did he mean by trouble? She couldn’t bring herself to ask him, as he reached for her and drew her over to him.
“I don’t like that part of me you saw this morning, Grace. I’ve worked years at getting control of my temper, and then shit like this happens, and it shakes me.”
“I know, honey,” she said, running a hand across his jaw in a soothing gesture that melted the pain from his eyes. “You’re protective. You’re fierce. That’s who you are.”
His eyes closed briefly. “I don’t like that I’m the kind of guy who gets off on pain.”
Oh God.
She swallowed. “What do you mean?” she asked. “You mean, the part of you that likes to… sp-spank me?”
His eyes opened, and his lips twitched. “Not just spank, angel. But yeah, Gracie. That’s what I mean. I was raised to solve problems with my fists. I learned to love control. And it’s all some kinda sick, twisted shit now, and I don’t know where normal and healthy even fits in anymore.”
She couldn’t bear to see him tortured like this. Without another word, she leaned in and brought her lips to his. His response was instinctive and immediate. Wrapping his hands around her waist so tightly it hurt, he pulled her to him and kissed her back, no holds barred. Teeth and lips clashed, and his hands were gone, raking her shirt up. Pausing the kiss only briefly enough to take it totally off, he moved her so she straddled his lap, before he went back to kissing her. His warm, rough hands scraped along her naked torso, causing her to both shiver and moan into his mouth. He lifted her and laid her on the bed gently, straddling her while he kissed her.
“There’s nothing wrong with control if I want this.” Her heart pounded and her legs clenched as heat flared in his eyes. “And I want this, Donnie.” She reached a hand out to run it along his arms, gently. “You controlled yourself today. You left. But you’ve been under pressure, and you’re afraid. I am, too.”
He leaned down and kissed her shoulder as she ran her fingers lightly along his back. Oh, God, that felt good. “But we’re in this together, honey,” she whispered. “I want to feel your control. I like that you protect me.”
“God, you need a good session,” he whispered in her ear. “You don’t even know the half of it yet.”
She grinned. She needed a good session? What even was “a good session?” Even though this was totally new and she didn’t know the half of it, she suspected his demonstrations would not only be hot as fucking hell. And if he was in control again—of her—would it help him regain control of himself?
“Maybe it’s time I learn,” she said.
His mouth came to her ear, the whiskers tickling her sensitive skin, as he whispered, “Keep your hands right where I put them. You understand me?”
“Yes,” she gasped, unprepared for the way his hands clenched tighter on her waist.
“That’s a yes, sir when I give you an instruction.” She felt the decided shift in every inch of her being. She’d given him the green light. And now, he was taking control.
“Yes-yes, sir,” she said, a strange sensation of being little, and out of her comfort zone, overwhelmed her, but there was barely time to focus as his teeth bit down on the tender skin of her neck, not so hard it hurt, but hard enough she froze, her pulse racing. What had she just asked for? He lifted his head and moved his mouth slowly down, tracing down her neck with his tongue as her back arched and her mouth parted, until he reached her nipple. He seized the pink bud between his teeth.
She screamed and writhed, but his hands pinned her fast as he briefly released her with his mouth, only to command, “You stay. Right. There.”
She didn’t breathe as he continued the torturous, delicious assault of tongue and teeth, moving from one nipple to the next, then down the valley of her belly until he reached her navel. He lapped at her naked skin, while his fingers spread her thighs apart, prying her open and plunging deep into her core. Her hips bucked and he stopped her movements with a hard, stinging smack to her thigh.
“Donnie!” she gasped, but she realized her mistake too late. He was up, the warmth of his body gone, and he was dragging her across his lap.
“Ow!” she yelped, as he spanked her hard, one swat after another taking her breath away.
“Try that again,” he commanded.
“Yes, sir!” she panted. “I’m sorry, sir!” The rapid swats immediately ceased.
“Very good,” he said, pushing her gently onto the bed. “Now you strip for me.”
Scrambling to obey lest she feel the sting of his palm again, she pushed to standing and quickly stepped out of her jeans and panties, pushing them to the floor and kicking them aside, her eyes traveling to the length of his erection just long enough to confirm he was as hot for her as she was for him, before meeting his eyes again. All traces of humor had fled, leaving only a stern command. He was in utter control. He nodded as she stood before him, now completely naked.
“That’s right, angel. Now you go and stand up against that wall.” He gestured to the wall with his left hand, while with his right, he tugged at the waist of his jeans and began to unfasten his belt. She froze.
You put yourself in danger, I’ll take my belt to your ass.
She realized with a quickening of her heartbeat that a muscle was ticking in his jaw.
“Yes, sir,” she breathed, quickly stepping over to the wall.
“That’s right, Grace. Face the wall, and place your arms above your head, palms down flat. Spread your legs.”
Oh God oh God oh God.
Trembling, she obeyed, closing her eyes, the only sound in the room now the jingle of his belt, followed by the whoosh of leather through loops as he removed it. She could hear him stalking behind her now. “Are you going to be a good girl?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. What would happen if she said no?
“Very good,” he said. “Stand there. You’ll take my belt, Grace. You won’t move.”
“Yes, sir,” she repeated. Her pussy throbbed as the whistle of leather through air warned her a split second before the tail end of his belt lashed her. She jumped, but otherwise stayed in position. It hurt like hell, but only briefly. Seconds later, another lash fell, followed by another. The bite of leather made her squirm, and just when she thought she couldn’t take another blow, she could feel him at her back, his hand at her legs, spreading them wide. His large, rough palm smoothed over the heat on her seared skin, the pain melting to warmth as he massaged her.
“How are you holding up, angel?” he whispered in her ear, as he grasped a fistful of her hair and pulled.
“I’m good,” she gasped, as he tugged her hair again.
“Do you want more?”
Hell, yeah, she wanted more. “Please, sir,” she said, her mouth parted as the words came strangled and desperate. “I do. I want more.” She had to prove to him she could take this. Tilting her head to the side, and giving him a look from beneath lowered lashes, she licked her lips and swallowed before continuing. He liked it dirty.
She’d give him dirty.
“I’ll do anything you tell me, sir. I’m yours to do with what you will.”
He grinned, still tugging her hair, a fire in his eyes glowing as he pulled, dragging her back over to the bed.
“Are you a pain slut, angel?” Her heart thumped at his words, but she would not cower or desist. She had to show him she could take it. She nodded her head eagerly, urging him to continue. “What do you want more? My belt or my cock?”
Her body quaked in anticipation, heady from the power he wielded over her, and the erotic pull of submitting to his every salacious whim. “Both,” she breathed. His eyes never left hers as he slowly placed the belt on the bed, grabbing the edge of his t-shirt as he pulled it off, his hardened muscles bunching until he sat in front of her, bare-chested. He took the shirt and pulled it taut, leaning down, as he slipped the warm, white fabric over her eyes. It was soft and smelled deliciously like him. As her world plunged into darkness, arousal flared through her.
He was near enough for her to hear, but she couldn’t see what he was doing. Slave only to the sensation of smell and t
ouch, she shivered as his hands ran down the length of her body, from the tops of her shoulders down her arms, stroking firmly, possessively. Her breath came in pants as he drew a finger between her folds, which were damp with arousal.
“Fucking hell,” he growled in her ear. “You’re soaked, angel.” He drew his finger upward, past her mound, and further up, until he reached her breasts. Both hands were on her nipples now, pinching and twisting.
“Ow!” she protested, but his firm grasp didn’t slacken. He twisted, not so hard it was unbearable, but enough that she squirmed in discomfort.
“Donnie!”
“You’ll learn to like this, Gracie.”
Would she?
He released her, and when she was no longer held by the pain, a rush of warmth and tingling sensation of electric arousal pulsed through her.
Maybe she would.
A whizz of a zipper, then her head was being pulled back by another hard tug of hair. “You’ll take me in your mouth now,” he said. “And suck me off while I whip your ass.”
Ohhhh God.
“Yes, sir,” she said, not knowing what else to do but wait, on her knees, plunged into darkness by the makeshift blindfold, for his command. His hand was on her cheek, guiding her, as she felt the tip of his cock on her lips just as she had last night. A delicious wave of his power and arousal made her lightheaded, the anticipation nearly unbearable. She flicked her tongue out and connected with soft, warm skin, hearing the breath hiss out of him. Taking him fully in her mouth, she began to suckle and tease, seconds before she heard the now-familiar jingle of his belt buckle, a whizz, and a crack as pain blossomed across her ass. She held his cock firm in her mouth, not releasing him, as he lashed her again, hard enough to sting but soft enough she felt little more than a warm, delicious fire building. Swat after swat landed as she sucked him, pumping his cock with one hand while she worked her tongue over his tip, alternating sucks and licks.
He groaned, but didn’t let up on the spanking, one lash after another falling as she sucked, fully immersed in pleasing him while he whipped her into submission. She could feel him tensing, near climax, when he dropped his belt and withdrew his cock, lifting her up in his arms. He planted her face-down on the bed, still blindfolded with his t-shirt, arranging her so she was chest-down and ass up, her arms in front of her like a supplicant.
