by Shelly Bell
Cash sat back, throwing his arm over the top of the couch so that his fingers stopped just short of her shoulders. Like last night, she could feel the heat radiating off his skin and warming her own. It was as if she was in front of a roaring fire after spending hours caught in a snowstorm. “You can’t keep asking the McKays for help. I’m sure they have better things to do with their time.”
Aside from his father’s multi-billion-dollar conglomerate, Ryder and Jane owned a restaurant automation company. Finn, on the other hand, was currently unemployed as far as she knew. But even with their responsibilities, they would always have her back.
“Jane McKay is family to me and by extension, so are Ryder and Finn,” she explained. Figuring it would just confuse him, she didn’t bother adding that Ryder’s best friend Tristan was engaged to her cousin Isabella. “There’s nothing more important than family. I’m sure you feel that way about Rebecca.”
His throat worked over a swallow. “I do.”
Even though she’d been an only child, she’d never been deprived of family. While she had more cousins than she could possibly fit in her apartment, Cash’s wistful expression reminded her that Cash and Rebecca only had each other. “Have you put your information into those adoption websites yet?”
“No.” He huffed out a tight laugh. “Haven’t exactly had the time these past couple of weeks.”
She wouldn’t push, but she had a feeling there was something preventing him. “Like I said, there’s nothing more important than family. If you really want to do it, make the time.”
He was quiet for a long moment. “What if I find them and they’re disappointed in me?”
As much as she loved parents, she’d often felt as though she would never earn their approval. It didn’t matter what she accomplished because her mom would inevitably rip it apart until she found something to worry about and her father would stay quiet on the matter in an effort to remain neutral. Her job working with ex-felons was too dangerous. Consumer Reports gave a low safety grade on the new car she’d bought. Worse, living alone in an apartment brought along the increased risk of another physical attack. All she wanted was the acknowledgment that they respected her choices and were proud of her.
“They won’t be disappointed in you,” she said quietly, shifting on the couch to angle toward him. “But if for some reason they are, then that’s on them and not you. You’re amazing. You could have spent your time in prison being bitter and angry. Instead, you got your degree and started a program that benefited both prisoners and dogs. Anyone would be lucky to call you family.”
“Thank you.” His gaze lowered to her mouth and remained fixed.
She recognized that look. It belonged to a man who was thinking of kissing her.
Just like that, the mood changed and the space between them suddenly crackled with tension. What would it feel like to have his lips on hers? She imagined he’d kiss much in the same way he’d approached their scene last night. Mindful of her comfort while never allowing her to forget for a second that he was in total control.
Heat blasted through her chest and trickled down to her core. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d wanted to kiss a man this badly. While she’d fucked a considerable amount of men, she could count on one hand the number she’d kissed. To her, kissing had always been more intimate. It implied feelings.
So, what did it mean that she couldn’t think of anything else she’d rather do than kiss Cash Turner?
It was one thing to be attracted to Cash, but it was quite another to have feelings for him. Eventually, one of them was bound to get hurt, and the thought of hurting him was almost worse than being hurt herself.
None of it mattered anyway because as much as she wanted to kiss him, there was a part of her that was still terrified of the contact. It was definitely quieter than it had been before, but it was there, like a subtle buzzing in the back of her mind.
Her pulse took off like a speeding jet on a runway. She wasn’t sure how it had happened, but Cash’s mouth had somehow moved closer to hers. She turned away from him, breaking the connection.
There was no scenario in which kissing him wouldn’t end in disaster.
“How are you feeling about what we did last night?” he asked, confirming what her body had been telling her.
Sometime within the last couple of minutes, their roles had shifted from parole officer and parolee to Dom and sub. It reminded her that even if he had been thinking of kissing her, he would never cross that line without her consent.
“You mean the dancing with no hands thing?” she asked. “Or the sleeping thing?”
“Both.”
“I wasn’t scared if that’s what you’re asking.” She had nothing to fear from Cash, at least not physically.
He stood, his gaze sliding toward his bag before resting on her. “You ready for more?”
If it weren’t for Dreama, Cash would have never known there was a chance he hadn’t been intoxicated the night of the accident. It didn’t change the fact that he had been driving the car when it had smashed into the concrete barrier, and it didn’t absolve his lingering guilt over Maddie and Joshua’s deaths, but it might give him a reason to one day forgive himself for it.
No one had ever stuck their neck out for him like Dreama was doing. It awed him as much as it worried him. He hadn’t loved Maddie, but he’d also never wished her harm. On the contrary, he’d married her to protect her from it.
Now that he was older, he could see how easy it had been for Maddie to manipulate him because of his protective nature. Ever since his father had died, he’d felt responsible for the women in his life. Even with Thomas stepping in to help, Cash had considered himself the man of the house. It had been his duty to keep his sister and his mom safe.
Maybe that was part of the reason he was drawn to sexual domination. In daily life, it simply wasn’t possible to control the people or situations around him. Only when it came to sex could he expect it.
With Dreama, he was beginning to develop an overwhelming need to protect her both in and out of the bedroom, no matter what it cost him. What happened within these walls had nothing to do with their everyday roles. It was the only time he had the power to keep her completely safe, and he didn’t plan on wasting a minute of it.
Dreama’s pupils dilated right before him, her eyes darkening and smoldering with heated interest. “What did you have in mind?”
He could get used to the way she looked at him. It made him feel worthy and desired. “I was thinking we could introduce a toy or two. I promise, there won’t be any contact between my skin and yours.”
At least not yet.
She didn’t blink. “I trust you.”
He certainly hoped so because he planned on testing that trust tonight. “Go to your room and stand in front of the bed.”
Her lips twitched right before she pivoted on her bare feet and flounced to the bedroom with an obvious sway to her hips that pulled his gaze straight to her ass. That outfit of hers was killing him. Whether she was wearing one of her starchy suits or a corset, she always looked sexy, but seeing her in a pair of relaxed jeans and a baggy sweater made her seem like the girl next door, a girl who was very much a woman in the bedroom.
Cash gave her a couple of minutes to anticipate what he had planned for her. Tonight wouldn’t only test her trust in him. It would also test his self-restraint. If he didn’t get a taste of her soon, he was likely to combust. But his first responsibility was to Dreama and the limits they’d set. That meant he’d have to get creative. It was fortunate that he had perfected his imagination during those long eight years without a woman.
He picked the duffel off the floor and swung it over his shoulder. Everything he needed for tonight’s scene was in that bag, as well as a change of clothing and his toiletries for the morning.
Adrenaline coursed through him as he crossed into her bedroom. Dreama was waiting just as he’d ordered. Only she had gone one step further, assuming a submis
sive pose, standing with her legs apart and her hands behind her back. His groin tightened, stealing the blood from other parts of his body. It was a heady feeling to have such a strong, capable woman surrender to him.
He wouldn’t let her down. Not if he could help it.
But the time for coddling was over.
“What’s your safe word again?”
Her eyes dilated. “Marathon.”
“Undress for me,” he said, his voice low and rough.
It was time to push her boundaries.
EIGHTEEN
The heat in Cash’s eyes and the gravelly sound of his voice instantly made Dreama wet.
But part of her was terrified.
Before her attack, she’d never worried about her body. Even though modern society would consider her fat, she’d always been comfortable in her skin. But now that skin was covered in ugly pink scars. Other than her doctors and nurses, no one had seen her naked in more than a year.
Cash would be the first.
Her hands were shaking as she caught the bottom of her sweater in her hands, pulled it over her head, and dropped it on the floor. Cash stood stock-still, his gaze growing more hooded by the moment. The scars on her arms and upper abdomen didn’t appear to have diminished his appreciation of her body at all. If anything, he looked hungrier for her. It gave her the courage to keep going.
With her gaze trained on Cash, she reached behind her and unhooked her bra. Slowly, she peeled the straps down her arms until the lacy fabric floated to the floor. Cash’s mouth parted and his tongue moistened his lips, leaving them as shiny and juicy as ripe fruit. The air wafted over her breasts, bringing out goose bumps, and her nipples tightened into hard little buds.
She threw back her shoulders, becoming more confident every moment.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” Cash said, his voice coming out scratchy and raw. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman.”
Her hands slid down the sides of her rib cage, coming to rest at the button of her jeans. “Does that mean you want me to continue?”
He swallowed hard. “Fuck yeah.”
She flicked open the button and unzipped her jeans, then slid them off her legs. Here goes nothing. Now clad in only a lacy black G-string, she bent over, giving Cash a full view of her ass as she removed them.
When she straightened, the sight of Cash nearly knocked her off her feet. It was more than the way he unapologetically ate her up with his eyes. It was in the way he seemed to be reining in his desire for her, evident by the fists at his sides and the considerable bulge at the placket of his jeans.
Heat swelled in her lower belly.
He moved closer, his gaze sweeping over her like a gentle wind. Each and every one of her scars was visible, but his body language didn’t change. He studied them in the same manner as he did the rest of her—with passion, heat, and longing.
His acceptance compelled her to map out her scars, beginning with the ones on her arms. She wanted him to know her. Really know her. And her scars weren’t only healed incisions. They told the story of what she’d endured. “He shattered the bones. The surgeon was able to reset them, although I needed plates and screws in my forearms. When it rains, my elbows ache. Otherwise, they don’t cause any problems.”
His silence gave her permission to continue.
“My legs, on the other hand, hurt every day. They’re stiff when I get up in the morning and shortly after, they start aching. That pain is actually manageable, although it gets worse as the day progresses. It’s the scars that hurt the most. I have scar neuropathy. Sometimes, it feels like there’s a knife slicing through my skin. I take over-the-counter pain relievers for it, but it only takes the edge off. Luckily, it doesn’t bother me every day.”
She had to give Cash credit. He remained quiet even as the knuckles of his fists turned a purplish red.
She ran her hands over the smattering of small scars on her upper abdomen. “I suffered internal bleeding. My heart actually stopped beating for a minute on the operating table. They had to remove my spleen and”—her hands slipped lower—“I required a full hysterectomy.”
That was the first time she’d spoken those words out loud. It was freeing, as if talking about it had instantly healed a festering wound.
“You know what I see when I look at you?” Cash said, striding toward her. “I see lush, womanly curves, and full breasts tipped with nipples I want in my mouth. I see softness that will cradle my cock perfectly and silky flesh I can’t wait to touch. On your sweet pink pussy, I see gleaming moisture that I dream about tasting, and on your body, I see the marks of a survivor, ones I someday plan on worshipping with my tongue. And do you know why, Dreama? Because they’re all a part of you. You know I find you beautiful, but beautiful isn’t strong enough to capture the way I see you. You’re more than beautiful. You’re everything that’s right in this world.”
No one had ever said anything like that to her before. Her heart seemed as if it had suddenly expanded in her chest, filled with adoration for Cash. Standing there, naked and vulnerable before him, she felt like a goddess. “Thank you.”
“You don’t need to say thank you,” he said. “Not when you can show your gratitude. Lie down on the middle of the bed, faceup, legs spread and arms stretched out overhead in a V.”
Lust washed away her anxiety as she put herself into position. Her pussy throbbed, her arousal dripping down her inner thighs. He hadn’t even started the scene, but if she didn’t come soon, she was going to cry. She was so turned on that if she’d been with any other Dom, her fingers would be inside her. But she respected Cash too much to disobey.
A shirtless Cash stood to the right of her with a flogger in his hand, looking positively sinful and every bit in his element. As if promising things to come, he ran his fingers over the thick knotted leather strands.
She trembled, jealous of the flogger that got to experience Cash’s caress.
His gaze fixed on the spot between her legs. “How wet are you?”
“So wet.”
“Use your hands and show me your pussy,” he ordered. “I want to see how wet you really are.”
Spreading herself like that was an incredibly intimate act. It embarrassed her, even as it excited her. Humiliation was one of her kinks.
“Tonight, I want you so wet, you’re swimming in it.” He lifted the flogger into the air.
Cash’s cock was so hard, it was excruciating. Dreama’s submission was like plunging whiskey directly into his veins, giving him a hot rush of pleasure and making him feel high.
He felt as if he could do anything. Be anything.
Her eyes were unfocused, her pupils like a full moon. She looked as high as he felt. Her gaze fell to the flogger in his hand and she smiled as if she knew what was coming next.
She didn’t.
“Flip to your stomach,” he ordered.
Having a naked Dreama on her stomach, unable to see what he was about to do to her, was a fantasy come true. The flogger’s weight was heavy in his hands.
His need to touch her creamy skin and taste her wet pussy had become an obsession. The flogger would enable him to do both.
Starting at the base of her neck, he swept the ends of the flogger over her skin, substituting the leather for his fingertips. She gasped, her rib cage jumping as if she’d hiccupped.
He continued his exploration of her skin, dragging the falls over the curve of her shoulders, down the length of her spine, and across her shoulder blades. Teasing her by skipping her delicious rounded ass, he trailed the leather down her thighs to her ankles.
She restlessly ground her pelvis into the mattress. Another time, he would punish her for it, but tonight was about conditioning her to equate his touch with pleasure.
Cash caressed the cheeks of her ass with the falls, making sure to touch every inch of it. As if begging for more, she bucked upward and quivered as he teased her crack with the ends of the buttery leather.
“Time to turn over and s
how me that wet pussy of yours, Dreama,” he ordered, grabbing a couple of disinfectant wipes from his duffel and cleaning the flogger.
She groaned as she flipped to her back. Her lips glistened as if she’d been licking them, and that wasn’t the only part wet. Her pussy was absolutely drenched.
His mouth watered at the image of her splayed out on the bed for him. He wanted to feast on her, to bite those tempting breasts and eat her pussy until she screamed his name.
To give his aching cock a bit of relief, he unsnapped his jeans and quietly drew down the zipper. Then he returned to his exploration of Dreama’s body, only this time on her front. He used the flogger in lieu of his fingers, running the falls across her neck, her tits, her belly, and her legs.
Only when she whimpered and trembled did he decide it was time to give them both some relief. Her skin was slick with perspiration.
He’d kept her on the edge for long enough.
It was time to finish it.
Dipping the leather between her spread thighs, he coated the strands with her arousal.
“Watch me,” he commanded.
Her eyes popped wide open.
Finally giving himself what he craved, he brought the wet leather to his lips and licked it clean. Like the woman, her taste was sharp and strong on his tongue. “I knew you’d be delicious.”
She watched him with glazed eyes as he flipped the flogger in his hand and sucked the handle into his mouth. Once it was good and wet, he positioned it directly upon her swollen clitoris and stroked it. He tightened his fingers around the wrapped leather of the handle to keep himself from touching her. “You have my permission to come.”
He slid the handle inside her pussy and moved it in and out of her a few times before returning to tease her clitoris. Over and over, he continued that pattern, alternately fucking her with the handle and manipulating her clit.
His cock pulsed with need and his heart banged a rapid beat in his chest. He hadn’t even exerted himself and sweat was dripping down the side of his face. Imagining his cock inside of her warm, wet pussy, he thrust his hips in tempo with the flogger.
