Bound to be Tempted: Emergence, Book 4

by Becca Jameson

  “Don’t go easy on me.”

  “I don’t intend to.” He paused, his lips on her shoulder. “Mmm. I bet I know how to work out some of the stress.”

  “How’s that, Sir?”

  He set his finger on her lips. “Shh.” He soothed a hand up to her neck and whispered so close she shivered with each word. “Kneel, baby.”

  She didn’t hesitate. The second he released her, she complied.

  He left her there for a while, rummaging around on the other side of the room before he returned.

  She didn’t dare glance up at him the entire time. She kept her head tipped toward the ground, her hands clasped behind her back.

  When he stepped in front of her, he reached for her breast and clasped her nipple between his fingers so fast she gasped and swayed forward.

  He didn’t comment. Instead he worked the bud with his fingers for a minute and then clamped it without saying a word. She could see the tiny heart dangling from her nipple. He repeated the action on the other side.

  When he was finished, he stepped back and didn’t move for a long time.

  So long she grew self-conscious. He loved to look at her. How long would he stare before he continued?

  He reached out and flicked the little hearts at one point, letting them swing against her breasts. The motion pulled on her nipples and made her more sensitive than she already was.

  Finally, he spoke. “Follow me, Maggie.”

  She lifted one foot and worked to get her balance so she could stand without toppling over while keeping her hands behind her back. Her knees had grown stiff. She followed his retreating back down the hall to the dining room.

  He pulled out a chair and sat, motioning for her to approach.

  She expected him to have her kneel at his feet as usual, so he took her by surprise when he grabbed her by the waist and tugged her forward until she fell across his lap on her belly. Her arms flew out in front of her instinctively.

  The breath whooshed from her lungs as he spread his legs so her breasts hung over one thigh and her pussy hung past the other thigh, exposed. She had no balance. Her feet didn’t reach the ground.

  But Carlton held her steady, rubbing her back and then her ass with a firm hand. He shoved her thighs apart, making her more off balance.

  She winced as her breasts bounced, the clamps reaching toward the floor.

  He held her steady. “What’s your safe word, Maggie?”

  “Red, Sir.”

  “I expect you to use it if this is too much.” He squeezed her ass cheek with his hand, almost too hard.

  Her pussy clenched in response. “I will, Sir.”

  “I’m going to spank you.” He switched cheeks. “You aren’t allowed to come while I’m doing it. This isn’t for sexual release. It’s to help you release frustration. Do you understand?”

  She did. She had no idea why, but she understood perfectly. And she wanted him to spank her. “Yes, Sir.”

  The first swat landed low, almost on her thighs, and although she wasn’t meant to be aroused, she couldn’t help the wetness that gathered between her legs or the moan that escaped her lips.

  Carlton spanked her three more times in succession, not lightly. He smoothed his palm over the offended flesh then. “Your skin is so lovely all pink from my hand.”

  She fought to avoid squirming. If she moved, her clit would rub against his thigh.

  “You okay, baby?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “May I continue?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He lifted his hand and slapped his cupped palm several more times, alternating between cheeks, working his way toward her thighs. And then he rubbed her skin again. The sting made her feel alive. Her entire body hummed from his touch. She was on fire, and she loved it. She’d been spanked before, many times, but never quite like this. Never by Carlton.

  His voice soothed as he caressed her butt. “Baby, so sexy. Do you want more?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She did. She wanted the high she felt from giving her body over to his care. She wanted the endorphin rush she got from the spanking.

  She moaned, her mind slipping into a perfect subspace as he rhythmically started another set of smacks. Even the sound of his hand striking her butt cheeks and thighs relaxed her and drove away some of the mental anguish she’d been fighting.

  She didn’t know how long he continued, but she knew every cell in her body craved his touch. Her breasts swayed, the clamps rocking back and forth to make her nipples hypersensitive.

  Even though he’d specifically told her he wouldn’t let her come, she felt her pussy tightening, threatening orgasm without his touch. She spread her legs farther than necessary and ground her clit against his jeans, each swat of his hand pressing her shaved sex into his leg.

  Suddenly he stilled his hand on her ass and thrust his fingers into her pussy.

  She climaxed so fast she didn’t know what hit her. And then he rubbed her clit with several of his fingers…his entire hand, grinding against her pussy, spreading her wetness around and pressing on her clit. He rubbed harder and faster as one orgasm became two and then three, crashing over each other, each one more forceful than the last.

  He didn’t stop until she flinched. It took three intense orgasms before his touch became sensitive. And then he eased his fingers gradually away from her pussy.

  She lay limp across his lap until he turned her around and hauled her into his embrace, carefully keeping her butt to the outside so he didn’t rub it against his jeans.

  He lifted her, hugging her against his chest, and carried her away from the dining room.

  She couldn’t open her eyes. She knew her mouth hung open, but she couldn’t speak. And her lips were so dry, but she couldn’t bring herself to lick them. She heard water running, and still he held her against his chest like a child.

  Margaret felt so loved and cherished and protected, she didn’t bother to pay attention to what he was doing. She trusted him implicitly. He’d just given her the best high of her life, and now he was caring for her in true Carlton fashion.

  And she let him.

  She heard a splash and opened her eyes a slit to see him lowering both of them into the tub. He had all of his clothes on. She was naked. She smiled inwardly at his care, but her mouth wouldn’t lift at the sides.

  She noticed her nipples were bare. When had he removed the clamps? He must have done it during one of the building orgasms and she hadn’t noticed.

  The tub continued to fill. The water covered both of them—Carlton in his jeans and Margaret snuggled against him naked. He caressed her ass, taking the sting away. The water was cool. It felt wonderful on her tender flesh.

  When he flipped off the water, he sat there holding her, rocking, his hands running all over her body. And he never stopped whispering in her ear. “I’ve got you, baby… So sexy… I’m so proud of you… You did so well…” On and on he murmured soft praises as she sank into his chest, relaxing every muscle in her body.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “You’re shaking.” He set his hand on her thigh and squeezed. Even that simple touch sent her heart racing.

  Margaret stared out the window of the SUV. She didn’t respond or even glance at Carlton, but she did lay her much smaller hand on top of his and thread her fingers between his.

  She had to get out of the car and go to the door. Sitting out front was only prolonging the inevitable. She wasn’t about to introduce her parents to Carlton. Her life with him was none of their business. They didn’t deserve that courtesy. But she did want him to wait right out front, making it obvious she was not alone. She was glad he’d insisted on coming along. For one thing, he was right—she was too shaky to drive. And she expected to be even shakier by the time she left the house. For another thing, facing her dad head-on wasn’t remotely smart. She did
n’t think he would injure her himself, but she also didn’t trust him. She would never feel safe around him again. Her own father.

  They’d already been to the police station that morning and met with Officer Brantly. As luck would have it, they had pulled prints off her car. Not shocking to find several prints from good old cousin Robbie. How fortunate that he was already in the system for other petty crimes. As soon as Margaret told Brantly what she’d overheard, he agreed she needed an order of protection.

  Their next stop had been the courthouse. She wanted this over with. A restraining order against her father, her uncle and her cousins sat on the seat next to her. They would each be served with papers tomorrow.

  She took a deep breath, held it and then exhaled slowly. “Give me an hour.”

  “I’ll give you thirty minutes, Maggie. I told you that.”

  She nodded. There was no sense arguing with him. Besides, she doubted she needed a full thirty minutes.

  She opened the door, jumped down to the curb and pushed the door closed gently. As though headed for the guillotine, she dragged herself to the front door. She knocked and then rubbed her palms on her jeans. She glanced at the street while she waited. Carlton smiled at her.

  Finally, the door opened. “Margaret?” her mom asked.

  Margaret turned to face her mother, watching the woman take in the black SUV and its driver at the curb.

  “Come in. I was just baking.” Her mother turned toward the kitchen and Margaret padded across the living room and around the corner, following. Her mother was nearly always in the kitchen. “Where’s Dad?” Even though it was a Wednesday afternoon, she knew he was there. His car was in the driveway.

  “David? Margaret’s here.” She turned toward Margaret, wiping her hands on her apron. “Can I get you something to drink? Coffee?”

  Margaret shook her head. “No, I just came to talk to you and Dad for a minute. I don’t have much time.” You probably won’t want me to stay after you’ve heard what I have to say.

  Margaret flinched when her father entered the room. She didn’t make eye contact with him as he took a seat at the table behind a steaming cup of coffee. “What’s this all about, Margaret? First, you sneak out of the house during a family get-together without saying a word, and then you don’t return your mother’s calls, and now you call a family meeting?”

  Margaret’s mother scooted out the chair next to her husband and sat. Even the high, piercing squeak of the chair legs against the linoleum grated on Margaret’s nerves in this house.

  Margaret licked her lips, although her tongue was too dry to moisten them. Time to get this over with. She lifted her gaze to meet her father’s head-on. “I know what you did.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know you and Uncle Rocky hired his kids to follow me that night.” She stood taller, emboldened by the rush of words. The truth. “I know you asked them to knock some sense into me.”

  Margaret’s mother gasped. She turned toward her husband. “David? What is she talking about?”

  Margaret kept her gaze locked on her father, but she watched her mother out of her peripheral vision. The woman’s shock was genuine. So she hadn’t known. Interesting.

  “For all the good it did.” Her father shrugged.

  Margaret’s mother shook her head. She grabbed her apron with both hands and wadded the material in her fists. “David? Please tell me this isn’t true.”

  Her father ignored her mother. He kept his infuriating gaze locked on Margaret’s. He wasn’t even apologetic in his body language. The man didn’t give a fuck that he’d been found out. “Were you eavesdropping on us? You always have been a sneaky brat.”

  Margaret fought not to let him get to her. She wasn’t about to try to explain how her mother had sent her in to give him the fifteen-minute warning till dinner. That was a moot issue. “I could’ve died.”

  The bastard laughed. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

  Margaret sucked in a breath. Even though she should have expected this reaction, it still shocked her. Her own father. Hell, even her mother had blinders on. “Wow. So this is funny. Okay. Well, here’s the deal. I’m not the sweet, innocent, heterosexual daughter you’d hoped for. I never have been. And this is the way my God made me.

  “Moving me to another city didn’t change that. Sending me to a private Christian school didn’t change that. Locking me up for two years, essentially grounded, also didn’t change that. Nothing is going to change the fact that I’m bisexual. Not you. Not Uncle Rocky. Not Robbie, Ross or Petey, the most fucked-up cousins a person could possibly have. Not your church. Not your counselor. I am who I am. I also know you still have those thugs following me, and they’ve been leaving me threatening notes. I got a restraining order this morning against you, Uncle Rocky and his sons. Don’t come near me. Don’t send anyone near me. I’ll call the police if I so much as suspect one of you drives by my house.”

  Margaret’s mother stared at her only child in disbelief, her eyes wide, her mouth hanging open in shock.

  “I’m not going to sit here and listen to this. Get out of my house. Don’t come back. Clearly, the devil has a hold of your soul.” Her father shoved his chair back and stood as he spoke. The second he was finished, he turned and left the room, taking long strides to escape Margaret’s presence.

  Margaret directed her attention to her mother. “I won’t put up with it anymore, Mom. I’m done. I’m tired. You have my cell phone. I won’t change the number. If you ever want to reach me, that ball’s in your court.”

  Without waiting for her mother to shut her mouth, Margaret turned and left the room. She walked straight out the front door without glancing back over her shoulder. She knew she hadn’t given her mother a chance to speak, but she also realized there was no way the woman could possibly process everything Margaret had said in one sitting and make a coherent response. Her mother would need to ponder what she’d learned for a long time. If she chose to contact Margaret at some point down the line, that would have to be her decision.

  Margaret was done.

  She reached the passenger door of the Land Rover at a near jog. Seconds later, she was inside the car, buckling her seatbelt before she turned to Carlton and gave a half smile. “Go.”

  “That was fast.” Carlton pulled away from the curb as she’d requested. “How did it go?”

  “As expected. I don’t think I’ll be hearing from my father again in this lifetime.” She turned to stare out the window, watching the houses go by.

  “I’m sorry, baby. And your mother?” His voice was soft, soothing. He set a hand on her thigh and squeezed.

  Margaret shrugged. “Time will tell.” The weight of her confrontation bore down on her, pressing her into the seat. She bit her bottom lip, but there was no way to keep the tears from escaping the corners of her eyes. Tears she’d held at bay for twelve years. Perhaps even longer. She mourned for the loss of something she never really had. She knew that. But it didn’t lessen the pain.

  Margaret didn’t meet Carlton’s gaze on the drive home. In fact, she appreciated the space he allowed her. He didn’t say another word. He didn’t move his hand, but he kept it still on her thigh, grounding her. Keeping her from floating away.

  Thank God it was Friday morning and she’d taken the day off. She had almost three days to pull herself back together before she needed to go to work. When he reached the house, she dragged herself inside as though she weighed a ton.

  Carlton set his hands on her shoulders as they entered the kitchen. “Why don’t you take a nap, baby?”

  Excellent idea.

  “I love you.” He set his forehead against hers and drew her closer to his body.

  “I love you too.” She smiled up at him, feeling her shoulders sag in relief.

  “Go.” He nodded toward the hall and released her.

  Sh
e padded to the master bedroom, took off her shoes, wiggled out of her jeans and slid between the sheets wearing her T-shirt and bra.

  Epilogue

  “Which one is it?”

  “That one.” Carlton pointed to the green house on the right with the brown shutters. He pulled the Land Rover to a stop next to the curb and turned off the ignition. “Ready?”

  “I don’t know.” She stared out the window, unsure.

  “Want me to wait here?”

  She turned toward him. “Of course not. Why would you do that?”

  He lifted his brows and smiled. “You deserve some time alone to get reacquainted. I thought—”

  She shook her head. “No.” She squeezed his hand. “I want you with me. We’re a unit.”

  “Okay, baby.” He took her chin in his hand and kissed her soundly. “I don’t know what you’re so worried about. It’s going to be fine.”

  “I know. It’s just been so long…” She looked back out the window.

  He released her hand and she heard him exit the car. She watched as he rounded the hood, opened her door and helped her to the ground.

  “Do I look okay?”

  “You look fabulous.”

  She smoothed the material of her sweater and wiped her palms on her best jeans, a nervous habit. She wasn’t wearing panties under the denim, but at least she wasn’t dressed in a skirt. She needed some sort of protection today to ease her nerves. “Let’s go.”

  Carlton took her hand in his and led her to the front door. He nodded for her to knock, and she did, although her hand felt like lead when she lifted it.

  “I’ll get it,” a voice said from the other side of the door. A moment later, the door opened and a tall blonde woman stood at the threshold, a huge smile on her face and the cutest baby in her grasp.

  Margaret lowered her gaze from the woman to the baby. She smiled at the little girl, an exact clone of her mother, who was clearly not biologically this woman.