Dangerously Broken

by Eden Bradley

  She bit her lip, and there was so much emotion in her big blue eyes it made his chest ache with some sensation he couldn’t quite get a handle on. Just this raging need to protect her. To make her feel safe. If nothing else, he would do that for her. And suddenly, to his surprise, she flung her arms around his neck and buried her head there. As he wrapped her in his arms, drawing her down into his lap, he heard her soft sigh. Of release. Of surrender. And everything in him—the sex and the emotion, the kink and the chemistry, the heat and the history between them, melded into one thing. Into that moment. There was both beauty and terror there. Old grief and new delight. They would explore it all together, and he would keep her safe. He would not let her down.

  There was a small roar inside his head. A fierce need in mind and body—for her, to do what he’d just silently vowed. How was it possible that it was all connected? But it was.

  “Hey, sugar,” he murmured as he lifted her chin. “Do you know how Goddamn beautiful you are? Do you have any idea how much I’ve needed you all this time? I held back because I thought that was what I had to do. And maybe for a long while it was. But now, well, everything has changed.” He swallowed hard at the desire and the trust in her eyes, the swallow expanding until it was an ache in his chest he couldn’t think about right then. “I need to hear your consent one last time. It’s not like there’s no turning back once I have it—you always have that option. But tell me now what you want, Summer Grace.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not what I want, Jamie. It’s what I need. I need to know what it is to turn myself over to you.” She gave one small, slow shake of her head, her silky blonde hair rippling like pale golden silk. “Only you. So yes, you have my consent. You’re gonna have me begging in a few minutes if you don’t take me out of here and . . . Goddamn it, don’t make me beg.”

  Her words went through him like fire—scorching hot. He got to his feet. “Don’t move.”

  He went to the windows and, one by one, he dropped the blinds.

  “Jamie, what—?”

  “Shh,” he told her as he turned back to her. “I don’t want you to say a word now, Summer Grace. Not unless I ask you a question or you need to use your safeword.” He crossed the room and came to stand before her. Putting his hands on her waist, he lifted her off the desk. “On your feet now, sugar. I’m going to undress you.”

  “Yes, undress me,” she murmured almost as if to herself while her eyes lost focus.

  “Not a word, now.”

  Her entire posture changed and he recognized the loose set of her shoulders, her mouth, as surrender. He could feel her going deeper by the moment as he reached behind her and unzipped her dress, then untied the halter at the back of her neck. Her breathing slowed, her body stilling. He stepped closer as he slipped the cotton from her shoulders.

  “Ah, Christ, if I’d known you were naked underneath this sweet little dress . . .”

  His cock pulsed hard. He willed it down. The effort was only partially successful. Taking a step back to look at her as the dress fell to the floor, leaving her in nothing but the pinup girl shoes, he had to draw in a long breath. Her nipples were already hard, pink and succulent. He exhaled as he took her breasts in his palms, and they fit perfectly, the nipples going even harder as she let out a sigh and arched into him.

  “Hold still, sweetheart,” he told her. It was no less an order for the pet name. It never was, with him. He preferred to seduce a woman into yielding to his command. Most of the time.

  She took in a breath, nodded, bit her lip. He leaned in and nipped at her lower lip because it was too luscious for him to resist. When she started to pull away, he bit harder and she groaned into his mouth. He stood back and focused on her breasts once more, not allowing himself to look at the tempting vee between her thighs yet.

  Too much.

  He could challenge his control, but he knew his limits. And with Summer Grace those limits were shifting and changing by the moment as lust battled fiercely with his sense of responsibility.

  Gathering her flawless, firm breasts in his hands, he ran his thumbs over the nipples, then pinched them.

  “Oh!”

  “Quiet, Summer Grace,” he ordered, then did it again, making her gasp.

  He pinched the undersides of her breasts, then filled his hands and pressed into the pressure points on the sides, watching her breathe through the pain. She instinctively knew how to take it, how to convert the pain to pleasure. He took in a breath, took in her scent of violets and rain and the scent of her desire, like its own perfume on her skin. Too beautiful. When he pinched her nipples again, much harder this time, she gasped, yelped, sucked air in between her clenched teeth as he held the pinch. He went harder and harder, watching her face. A blush rose on her cheeks, on her breasts, and she squirmed a little.

  “Does that feel good, sugar? Answer me.”

  “Yes. Good and . . . it fucking hurts. But yes, so good.”

  “Is it making you wet?”

  She moaned. “God, yes.”

  He spun her around in his arms, grabbing her around the waist with one arm and yanking her in tight, using one of his thighs to force hers apart. “Let’s find out.”

  With his free hand he grasped the back of her hair and pulled, bending her over, then he slid his palm down and over the soft flesh of her perfect ass. “Brace yourself on the desk and spread your legs,” he ordered before slipping his hand between her thighs—and found as he smoothed his fingers over her pussy lips that she was soaked.

  His cock pulsed, lust singing in his veins. Right now he had a handle on his desire. But fuck, he didn’t know how long he could hold out.

  Give her what she needs.

  “Spread wider,” he demanded, a bit harsher than he’d meant to.

  She did as he asked with only a moment’s hesitation, enough for him to know there was still some struggle going on in her. That was all right. He didn’t mind if she went down with a little fight. It was Summer Grace, after all. He’d have expected nothing less. He leaned in closer, laid his head on hers, listening to her breathe while he rubbed his face against her soft, soft hair. He stayed there for some time, waiting for her to align her breath with his, and after several moments she did. He cinched his arm tightly around her waist, listened as she had to adjust her breathing to the constriction. Waited a few beats, then flexed his arm, pulling her tighter. She adjusted her breathing once more.

  “Very good,” he murmured. “Do you know what good girls get, sugar?” he asked. “This.”

  He thrust two fingers inside her, and her entire body bowed in his tight grip.

  “Ah!”

  “Shh, stay very quiet, sweetheart. Hold still for me while I fuck you with my hand. I’m going to fuck you hard. It’s going to hurt. And it’s going to feel so good.”

  He began a sharp, deep thrust, his fingers plunging in and out of her. She squirmed in his arms, which he knew she would, her body mindlessly grinding onto his hand, then pulling away as he went deeper.

  “Come on, baby. You can take it.”

  “Jamie!”

  “Shh.”

  He shifted his arm and used the heel of his hand to press onto her mound, finding the hard nub of her clit. Her breath hitched, and he felt her insides clench around his probing fingers.

  “Ah, ah. Did I say you could come?”

  “No,” she answered on a small sob.

  “Then take your pleasure from me. Take it and hold it until I ask it of you.”

  “I can’t,” she panted. “I can’t.”

  “You can. And you will.”

  Another small sobbing breath, but when he felt her muscles tense all over, then let go the tiniest bit, he knew she was making an effort to control herself.

  “Good girl.”

  He began again, fucking her fast and hard, his fingers piercing her over and over
while she grew wetter and wetter. He tried to concentrate on doing this for her, to her, ignoring his own body’s response. Soon she was gasping, groaning. He paused long enough to pinch the swollen lips of her sex.

  “Ah!”

  Then he started again, thrusting in deep strokes. When she went up on her toes he knew she couldn’t hold out any longer. Hell, neither could he.

  “Come for me now. Give it to me like a gift, sugar girl.”

  Her insides clenched, fluttered, then she bore down hard as she came into his hand.

  “Jamie! Oh my God.”

  She writhed in his arms as he pumped into her, and her orgasm went on and on. His cock was aching, needing her. But the driving desire to do what she needed was even stronger. And her body would require pleasure before she would be prepared to take much pain.

  She wasn’t quite done coming when he slipped his fingers from her and spanked her ass hard, one sharp smack.

  “Oh!”

  He didn’t give her time to figure out what was happening. Instead he began an even pace, his hand coming down on her beautifully pinking flesh. Not too hard at first—he was gauging what she could handle. But she pressed back into his hand with every strike, making him smile. Oh, she was built for this. How had he never guessed?

  How had he kept his hands off her for so many years? The idea was mind-boggling, especially now that she was naked and pliant in his arms and more gorgeous than he’d ever imagined in his wildest dreams—and they’d been pretty damn wild. His cock, his entire body, was hot and throbbing with a desire that could be quenched only through sex. And through kink. He had to have her, his fantasy girl. But first he had to hurt her.

  CHAPTER

  Four

  JAMIE TOOK HER hand and began to lead her from the office and through the door that led to the shop. Some small part of Summer’s subspaced brain was in awe of the fact that she was naked except for her shoes, her ass warmed by the stunning Jamie’s wonderfully cruel hands, her body soft all over after coming at his command. And now he was taking her into an auto shop of all places to do God only knew what to her. She’d never felt more blissful. She refused to acknowledge the small part of her psyche that was screaming at her to run before she got hurt—heart-hurt.

  Nope. Not thinking about it.

  But what the . . . ?

  “What the fuck, Jamie? Really? You keep a play bag at work?” she couldn’t help but ask when he grabbed a black duffel bag from a chair by the door and slung it over his shoulder.

  “Is ‘what the fuck’ a safeword, Summer Grace?” he asked with a small chuckle before he must have recognized the look on her face. “Ah. Sweetheart, I have never played anyone else here.”

  She smiled—she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stand to think that he regularly brought women to his shop for play. It was different than The Bastille, in her mind, however unreasonable that might be. But she was unreasonably thrilled that his shop was virgin territory, that he was popping its cherry for her.

  “But yes,” he went on, “I keep a spare play bag in here for those nights I work too late to go home before I head to the club. The equipment is limited, but there’s enough in there for me to work with. Don’t you worry.”

  “Lack of toys is not what I’m worried about,” she muttered, quietly pleased that he’d let her get away with breaking her silence. She shook her head as he pulled her along behind him. She would never understand how he could be so sweet and still so purely Dom-like at the same damn time. But she had to admit it was working its magic on her. Big-time.

  Jamie flipped a switch on the wall and one section of the shop lit up. She’d been there before—she’d dropped by a number of times over the years, hoping to entice him—but never after hours. The place was so clean you could eat off the floor—everything shining chrome and the gorgeous mural on the back wall of vintage muscle cars: a Mustang, a GTO and a Corvette, all done in matte black against a background of gradually deepening shades of blue. The black-and-chrome tool chests were in neat rows against the walls, punctuated by wall-mounted counters. There were work bays with pits, some with different types of lifts—she thought that was what they were called, but her brain was cloudy—in sleek black and red. The place was really some car perv’s fantasy. She couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped her.

  Jamie turned to her. “What are you finding so funny, sugar?” One brow was lifted, and there was both humor and menace in his tone, which she loved.

  A shiver went through her. She was naked in Jamie’s auto shop and this was crazy! But she liked the crazy. “I just realized that cars are one of your fetishes.”

  “You just now realized that?” he asked. “And I thought you knew me so well.”

  “I thought I did, too,” she said, only then realizing there was an awful lot about this man she’d missed.

  He wrapped an arm around her waist, his biceps flexing deliciously against her bare skin. “Now is when we really get to know each other, Summer Grace.”

  All she could do was nod. Desire was a simmering fire in her body. Desire and a little titillating fear about what was going to happen. And as if he sensed her fear he bent and brushed his lips across hers, fanning the flames of need, sending a shock of pleasure deep into her system.

  Oh yes. This is what I need.

  She sank into him as he pulled her in closer, nibbling on her lips, licking them, then kissing her hard and deep, his tongue exploring. Taking. If she’d had any doubts about what they were doing he made them all melt away.

  “You’re going to be just fine, sweetheart. I’ll take very good care of you,” he whispered against her flushed cheek. “I’m going to do some wonderful and terrible things to you. Is that what you want?”

  She closed her eyes, breathed him in, let her tongue dart out to taste him on her lips.

  Oh yes.

  “Exactly what I want. What I need. I’m just . . .”

  “What is it? Tell me.”

  Her throat went tight, but the words seemed to pour out of their own accord. “Have you ever had your heart’s desire right in front of you and suddenly you realize you hadn’t ever really imagined it could be more than just a dream? And then it’s right there and it seems like a dream. I can’t seem to get ahold of it. It’s like the whole world is wobbling. But yes, I want it, need it. Please, Jamie.”

  He pressed his lips to her cheek, kissing it over and over. Then he said quietly, his voice a low rumble, “Yeah. I know exactly what you mean. We are on the same page, sweetheart, at this very moment. But this is what it means to turn it over. Just give it all up to me. You can do it. This is me, Summer Grace, and I will take care of everything.”

  “Yes,” she agreed, knowing that was utterly true.

  He kissed her cheek again. “Come on, sugar girl.”

  He took her hand once more and led her across the quiet shop, their footsteps echoing on the cement floor. He stopped in front of an odd-looking contraption made of red-painted metal framework set on the floor that had some sort of crane or hoist attached to it. The black vertical arm had “Xtreme” painted down one side in big white letters, a row of large squared teeth like a spine up the back and a rod angled off the top. At the end of the rod hung a length of chain, ending in a large hook.

  “Jamie . . . ?”

  His grip on her hand tightened as he set the toy bag down on the floor. “I suppose you’re wondering what we’re doing here? That, I’m not going to tell you, but I will tell you what this little beauty is. It’s a portable Spider frame straightener—it’s what we use to straighten out the bent frame on a car that’s been in an accident. This baby can hold up to ten tons.” He dragged Summer close and brushed a kiss over her hair. “Now I need to go get a few things, and I want you to wait for me here. Can you do that?”

  He pulled back to look at her, and she swallowed, nodded, her head spinning.

/>   “Good girl,” he murmured before kissing her hand, then dropping it and stepping away.

  She was afraid to even turn her head to see what he was doing—and her vision was entirely filled up by this torture-chamber device in front of her. She didn’t want to imagine what he’d use this thing for. At the same time that fear only fed the lust spiraling inside her naked body, coiling and raging like a storm in her belly, her breasts, her sex, waiting to be released . . . but only within the safety of Jamie’s control.

  Why did she feel as if she were about to lose control in some way she never had before? As if being with Jamie, facing this fear with him—for him—was going to unleash some new element of her sexuality? And being left standing there in nothing but her high shoes seemed utterly perverse.

  She waited for him, full of fear and desire and a sort of awe at the force of it all, and she had to keep clenching and unclenching her hands, rocking a bit on her toes in her pretty shoes. When he returned and she heard a hard metallic clink she looked up to see him carrying a long length of heavy chain. Her stomach tightened.

  He had an evil grin on his face. She loved it and it pissed her off a little at the same time. But, God, he was gorgeous. Those dimples got her every damn time. And he’d taken his shirt off so she could take in every beautifully muscular line of his tall frame, his pierced nipples immediately drawing her gaze. And that narrow line of dark hair leading its way down into the waistband of the low-slung jeans around his hips was some sort of madly tempting detail of his anatomy. She breathed out on a sigh.

  He dropped the chain on the floor with a loud clank that made her jump.

  “Need more chain. Don’t you go anywhere.”

  She turned her head and kept her focus on his long strides, the way the muscles rippled across his back when he rolled his shoulders. She couldn’t look at the pile of chain on the floor. She couldn’t look at the weird device he was apparently going to chain her to—unless this was just some kind of mind-fuck. She wouldn’t put it past him.