by Desiree Holt
“All right. Get up, girl,” he ordered, doing his best to hold on to his own emotions. He had to physically restrain himself from racing out of the house, finding Brian Willoughby and strangling him with his bare hands for causing so much anguish and distress to this very special woman.
He watched her balance herself carefully as she managed to get to her feet, her equilibrium off-kilter because she couldn’t use her hands. When she was standing before him, he cupped her face with his palms. He hoped when she looked into his eyes she could see the depth of the love he felt for her, as well as the respect. He chose his words carefully.
“No punishment tonight, Fallon. At least not the kind you’re asking for. I think today did enough damage to you.”
“But—”
He touched a finger to her lips. “Never argue with your Master. Tonight it’s all about doing what I can do to wipe away this blackness gripping you.”
She wrinkled her forehead. “Sir?”
He could see she was confused, but the kind of pain she expected was the last thing she needed right now. He might want to beat every last trace of Brian Willoughby from her body but that would be irresponsible on his part. How could he punish someone who was so visibly punishing herself? He was smart enough to know that he couldn’t erase one kind of brutality with another, no matter how lovingly delivered. In her fragile state, he was sure if he did what she asked it would destroy her, and he loved her too much for that.
But tenderness was as much a part of being a Dom as pain and punishment, both for pleasure and discipline. Tonight it was important to show her how much she meant to him and what a special place she held in his heart. Had he taken the time before now, he wondered, to let her know his depth of feelings? Or had he just assumed from everything they did that she got the message? After the event center’s grand opening, when she filled in the missing details for him, he would decide how to move forward. Right now his mission was to subject her to torture of the sweetest kind.
“Perhaps it’s my fault for not making sure you understood exactly how important you are to me,” he told her, putting as much feeling into his words as he could. “How much I value you. How I feel about you. That’s what this will be about.” He stroked his fingers lightly on her cheek. “Now. I want you on the bed, flat on your back. I have a specific kind of torture in mind.”
When she was situated as commanded, he knelt between her thighs and braced a hand on either side of her. For a long moment he stared at her still-pale face, saw the anguish and conflict in her eyes and made a silent vow to protect her from this asshole no matter what.
Provided, of course, she let him.
No. He blanked that thought and focused on what he needed to do right now—reinforce that tenderness was as much a part of being a Dom as administering painful punishment. A good Master knew what to use when.
“What I have in mind, girl, is all about making sure you understand I love you.” He gave her a smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not still in control of your body.”
He raised her hands and wrapped her fingers around the spindles in the headboard.
“Keep them there,” he commanded. “Don’t move unless I tell you to. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” But she wore a puzzled look on her face.
He brought his mouth close to hers. “Tonight I want to show you how special you are to me. How much I want to take the pieces that jackass shattered you into and put them back together again. Whole.” He ran his tongue over her lips. “I’m going to tease every part of your body. Give you pleasure.” He nipped her lower lip. “But there is one rule in place. You do not come until I give permission. That’s your punishment.”
He sprinkled kisses on her face, touching her nose, her cheeks, her eyelids, delighting in the accelerated beat of the pulse at the delicate hollow of her throat. Trailing his tongue down between her breasts, he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking it and biting it and tugging at the thin ring with his teeth. The bud firmed in his mouth, the pebbled surface hardening. Fallon’s rate of breathing increased and her pulse beat faster.
When he moved his mouth to the other breast, a soft moan floated from her throat and she tried to arch herself to meet his touch.
“None of that,” he cautioned. “You are to lie perfectly still until I give you permission to move.”
Again he licked and nipped and pulled gently at the nipple ring until the peak was swollen and hard.
“Sweet,” he told her. “I could live on your taste alone. I think I need to tell you that more often.”
By the time he finished his ministrations to both nipples, her entire body had tensed beneath him, a sign she was trying her best to control the sensations racing through her. Fallon Crowe had a very responsive body and tonight he would play it like a violin.
His tongue traced circular flesh of her navel, the tip pressing gently into the center. Lapping at the soft skin of her tummy, he followed a path to her naked mound, bare and waiting for his attention. He insisted she keep it waxed, just one of his particular preferences. The flesh was always more sensitive, allowing him to tease all the nerves just beneath the surface.
“Delicious,” he murmured, and smiled when a sigh of pleasure whispered from her lips.
He took his time licking her pubis, reveling in the naked flesh. As always, she tasted like seven kinds of sin. Keeping his body in check was becoming a problem, but this was all about her tonight. All about showing her that control equaled pleasure, not just pain. He tugged the outer lips of her pussy with his teeth, gentle nips that made her shift her hips restlessly. Sounds of pleasure burst softly from her lips, ratcheting up his own reaction.
As he worked on her sweet, plump flesh with his lips and tongue and teeth, the erotic scent of her musk filled his nostrils. He dipped his tongue lightly into her slit and found her liberally coated with her liquid. His cock, already hard as a fence post, flexed in response.
Using his thumbs, he opened the lips of her pussy, pausing to inhale her fragrance for a long moment. Nothing in the world smelled better to him than the scent of her sex.
“The best perfume in the world, girl. The very best.”
He flicked a glance at her face. Seeing it suffused with pleasure at his words, his heart kicked over and he knew he’d made the right decision tonight.
He proceeded to subject her to torment of the most sensual kind, lapping and licking, abrading the swollen nub of her clit. The richness of her flavor and her mouthwatering taste never ceased to amaze him. Cord had been with more women than he liked to count but none had invaded his heart—as well as his brain and his body—the way Fallon did. Even as he focused on tantalizing her with pleasure, he vowed to do whatever it took to wipe that bastard from her life, from her very soul.
By the time he slid his tongue into her waiting pussy, she was writhing beneath him, muscles flexing and tensing with her feeble attempts to hold her body still. He knew exactly what she liked and how she liked it, and he played her like an expensive musical instrument. With his tongue deep inside her cunt, he pinched her clit, hard, and Fallon erupted. Her inner muscles spasmed around his tongue and her hips jerked with an involuntary motion.
Tremors still rocked her when he slid his tongue from between her legs.
“I specifically remember telling you not to come until I gave you permission,” he reprimanded, hiding a smile. Making her lose control was one of his favorite things to do. “I think we’ll just have to try that again. No movement, girl. No orgasm except by my command. Do you understand?”
“Y-Yes, Sir.” Her voice shook with the force of her arousal as she answered him.
Again he took her up to the edge, using every skill he possessed to arouse and tease. Time and again, with skill and patience, he worked her to the brink of climax. Whenever he felt her approaching the precipice, he withdrew his hands and mouth and eased her back. He had to call up every bit of self-control he possessed to hold himself back as he lovingly worked he
r body. But as her Dom, it was his responsibility to do so. And he took that particular responsibility seriously.
When the tenor of her erotic moans reached a point that signaled she was close to the end of her control, he thrust his tongue inside her, slipped one finger into the hot clasp of her rectum and with another pinch of her clit, drove her over the edge.
She was panting and sweaty as he eased her down, watching for the spasms to slowly abate. When the tremors faded to aftershocks, he rolled on a condom and drove into her hot, wet cunt. He leaned close to her ear to whisper, “That’s the second time you’ve come without permission. What a bad sub you are.” He clucked his tongue. “I guess that means I’ll have to fuck you extra hard.”
Then he sealed his mouth to hers.
Hands pressing the mattress on either side of her, Cord drove deeper and deeper into the welcoming heat of Fallon’s body, fucking her with his mouth as well as his shaft. He wanted to erase every vestige of Brian Willoughby from her body and her mind if he could. He knew she was exhausted but he wanted this last, complete climax for her. A joining. A confirmation that they were one.
He worked her hard for it, pounding into her almost viciously as her whimpers grew louder and louder, hanging on to his own control until he felt her body begin to unwind beneath his. At that moment, he wished there was no condom separating them, just flesh to flesh. With one final, severe thrust, he drove them both into an intense climactic spiral, bodies shuddering together.
He lifted his mouth from hers and pressed it lightly to the spot beneath her ear as they lay there, dragging air into their lungs, hearts beating like jungle drums. When he could move again, he brushed her hair back from her face and dropped light kisses on her eyelids.
“Who is your Master?” he demanded softly.
“You are, Sir.”
“Do you know your Master loves you? Will always take care of you?”
“Y-Yes. I do.”
“I’m going to say this again and hope you remember it.” He brushed his mouth against hers. “You never have to be afraid of me, Fallon. All you have to fear are secrets. I want none between us.”
“I know.”
He hated the faint trace of panic that still lingered in her eyes. A leftover from that damn Willoughby, he was sure. Somehow he’d find a way to erase that. He kissed her again, scorching her mouth with his tongue, trying to breathe what he felt into her body.
“I agreed not to press you for more details until after the party. But a promise is a promise. That’s when I want it all. Every bit that you haven’t told me so far. Promise me. And I promise you there will be nothing to be afraid of.”
“I do.” She let out a soft sigh. ”I will.”
He kissed her once more, a kiss of love rather than passion. A message from his heart. And he promised himself he’d do whatever it took to break Brian’s hold.
Stripping off the condom and dropping it into the basket beside the bed, he opened her fingers from their grasp of the headboard. With great care, he massaged the stiff muscles of her arms and eased them down to her sides.
“That’s the end of it,” he told her as he worked the rest of her body, “unless the thoughts you told me about, the vestiges of your time with him, continue to plague you. Then you’ll talk it out with me.” He stroked her hair, trying to infuse a calmness into her that he was barely feeling himself. “And we’ll do whatever it takes to get you through it.”
“Thank you, Sir.” She let out a great, shuddering sigh.
“Say ‘thank you, Cord’,” he urged softly, emphasizing the use of his name. Personalizing it. A signal that they were out of their D/s roles.
“Thank you, Cord,” she repeated.
He held her a while longer, one hand smoothing her hair, until he felt her heartbeat slowing and her breathing evening out.
While he ran hot water in the tub, he battled all the emotions warring inside him. Cord wanted to believe that tonight had pulled her back into the embrace of their relationship. Now he needed to be calm, to be her rock and her strength to get her through this. Running into the fucker today apparently opened up old feelings. Old wounds. The lingering remains of her addiction to him. And, he was sure, the leftovers from her upbringing that had convinced her she was less than everyone else in her family.
The Willoughby was clearly the most dangerous threat, to both their happiness and Fallon’s sanity. It would take every bit of his knowledge and love to get her through this and completely wipe him from her system.
But as he carried her into the bathroom minutes later, carefully placing tender kisses on her shoulders and neck, he promised himself that somehow he’d find a way to do it.
And make her believe that his love for her was stronger than anything else.
Chapter Four
Fallon knew Cord would be angry when she finally told him all the details about her relationship with Brian. Just as she’d known in her heart that said relationship had been flawed from the beginning. Her attachment to him was a sickness, an addiction, and she hadn’t had the strength to cure herself. If not for Claire, she might still be trapped in a situation she was unwilling to change.
The confrontation with Brian earlier in the day had churned up old, addictive feelings that had threatened to swamp her. She’d needed every ounce of willpower to jerk herself away from him and run into the store. All the way home, she’d told herself she could just put it out of her mind, but even then she knew how unrealistic that was. Knew Cord would take one look at her and know something had happened. And she’d have to tell him.
He had shocked her by refusing to punish her. Instead he’d wrung her out sexually and emotionally, silently telling her what she meant to him. With Cord it was far more than just a sexual relationship. More than a cycle of pain and pleasure. There were real feelings here, things she’d never felt before. And the depth of those feelings shocked and frightened her. What if she wasn’t up to it? What if her weak body and mind betrayed her again? Betrayed what they had together?
She hoped this could be a new beginning for her and Cord. A new path for their relationship. Now when the unpleasant thoughts intruded, she had someone to take them to. She hoped.
I have to. I want this more than anything.
But did she? Really? Tonight she’d been afraid the connection between them had been fractured. She had to find a way to repair it, but when she closed her eyes, all she could see was Brian looming over her, bringing her to a knife-edge of pain that resulted in unbelievably explosive releases. So intense she couldn’t separate the pain from the pleasure.
She knew how sick that was. And how important it was for her to break the addiction. But she would have to do it. For herself as well as for Cord.
She waited quietly now to see what Cord would do next. Focused completely on him.
Yes. Focus. Focus. Focus.
It surprised her when he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bathroom. He was just so damn good to her, always concentrated on her aftercare. Always on her well-being. How did she let any trace of Brian intrude on this?
Because you’re sick, that’s how.
Placing her gently on the seat at the vanity, Cord reached a hand into the Jacuzzi tub, adjusting the temperature of the water until he was satisfied.
She sat, docile, watching him fiddle with the taps. She loved this tub, built against one wall with a wide ledge on all sides. Glass blocks surrounded it on three sides, set into the walls. When they lit candles at the corners, the lights danced in the glass like a rainbow ballet. Soothing. He told her once he’d had the tub made especially for him, wider and deeper than most.
“The better to hold two people,” he’d explained.
He reached for one of the tall jars of bath salts kept in a tray at one corner of the tub and sprinkled some liberally into the water.
“This will help relax you,” he said over his shoulder.
“Thank you, Sir.” She couldn’t seem to pull herself out of sub mo
de. If he wanted to flay every inch of skin from her body right now, she might just let him. Almost wished he would. Yes, beat Brian out of her so she was cured once and for all.
But that’s not Cord. And I’m damn lucky to be with him. I just need to keep remembering that.
When the tub was full, he turned off the taps and crouched beside her, taking her hands in his.
“What I wish,” he said, slowly, “is that Brian Willoughby hadn’t pounced on you like a cat with a mouse. Just as he does with everyone and everything. I wish he hadn’t been in your life. And I wish that you felt comfortable enough in our relationship to tell me about everything you went through with him.”
“I don’t—” she began.
He touched his fingertips to her mouth. “Ssh. No more. It’s done. We’ve agreed to wait. Until then, we continue to move forward.”
He lifted her and placed her gently in the tub, pressing the button for the jets. The steady whooshing created froth on the surface of the water, bubbles that kissed her shoulders. Cord knelt beside the tub and let his hand drift down to her pussy, stroking the well-used flesh. She tightened her thighs around him.
“I want you to feel this not just tonight, but tomorrow and the day after and the day after. To remember the pleasure I gave you over and over. Satisfaction that your Master gives you because he loves you. That I, Cord, give you as your lover.”
She bowed her head. “Yes, Sir.”
“Cord,” he reminded her.
She bobbed her head. “Cord.”
He should have punished me with the belt. The cane. Anything.
She wanted him to purge her of the sickness that had gripped her for too long. Even now a tiny thread of fear wriggled through her, a sense that she and Brian still weren’t finished.
Go away! I’m done with you!
Her traitorous subconscious had no business teasing her about him, not when she now had such a good and caring Master. One whose possession promised love and safety and who was meticulous about aftercare.
