The tone of his voice changed, becoming agitated. I hopped up. What did it matter anyhow? He’d seen my…my…pussy already. God, would I ever get used to using that word? It sounded so dirty and unladylike. Fighting would only make it worse, ending with me being tied down and possibly cut.
He unzipped the bag and pulled out some shaving cream and a razor. His eyes shifted to my legs and he frowned. “I think we’ll do your legs as well. Get that out of the way first.” I didn’t answer, just watched him as he popped the top off the can of shaving cream and began to lather up my legs. What surprised me was how tender he was, certainly not what I’d been expecting, his fingers taking the time to knead and caress the muscle.
“I can really do this myself. If you want to watch…”
“Put your left foot on my shoulder.”
Just suck it up, Emily. The quicker we get this done, the better, I coached myself. Besides, if he has nothing better to do than to shave my legs and…other spots, whatever.
Grabbing the razor, Tanner began at my ankle and slowly drew the razor up, taking care not to cut me. There was something curiously sensual about the way he went about it, his entire focus on me, not missing a spot as his fingers caressed my leg just above the knee. Not exactly what I’d expected, and it was rather baffling. After each strip, he rinsed off the razor.
After several minutes he finished the first leg and wiped it down with a damp cloth, leaving it perfectly smooth. “Other leg.”
“All right.”
He looked up to meet my gaze, one brow cocked. “All right what?”
“Master.”
“Better.”
Does he get off on doing this? I wondered as I watched him remove the hair from my second leg. Was it something men liked to do – some weird, secret fetish, like sucking toes?
“What?”
“Huh?” I lifted my gaze from my leg to meet his stare.
“You look like you have something to say. What is it?”
I opened my mouth and snapped it shut again, feeling my cheeks begin to burn.
“Say it.”
“I don’t want to, Master.”
His jaw clenched tight, causing the muscles in his neck to tighten. “Say it.”
“Is this…” I waved to the shaving creams and his hand holding the razor. “I mean, do you like this?”
The look he gave me was so peculiar I almost laughed. It looked as though he was trying to figure out what in the hell I was trying to get at.
I cringed. “I mean, does it turn you on, Sir?”
A bark of laugher erupted from him as he set down the razor and grabbed the shaving cream. “Why? Is my virgin church girl starting a list of what turns her abductor on?”
“I’m just curious. I mean, you seem pretty…intense. Like, when you’re doing it.”
“I’m intense when I do most things. Now lean back and spread your legs wider.”
Now that his attention was fixated on my mound, my insecurities kicked into high gear. Instead of doing as told, I attempted to pull my foot from his shoulder and close my legs completely. His hand shot out so quickly to grip my neck that I didn’t even have a chance to react. He forced me backward roughly, the back of my head slamming against the mirror – a low “oomph” escaped my lips and I heard a soft crack, not sure if it was my head or the mirror; since I didn’t feel any blood flowing down my head I assumed it to be the latter.
“Please,” I gasped, my hands going to his arm, attempting to remove his hand from my throat. But he was too strong and his grip tightened, cutting off my air supply completely. I clawed frantically at his arm, leaving long scratches on his forearm.
“I thought we were past this. Are you going to stop being a spoiled little bitch and do as told?” he snarled. His dark eyes had grown cold, all humour that had been in them gone. He was going to kill me. God, oh God, I was going to die. I wasn’t ready to die and certainly not over the fact that I was too scared to let him shave me.
I attempted to nod and let my legs go slack, no longer fighting him – surrendering. He immediately released my throat and picked the can of shaving cream back up as I trembled, gasping for breath.
“I’m sorry, Master.” Where his violent reaction had come from, I didn’t know. But it reminded me of one thing. He wasn’t my friend, he was my kidnapper. And oh my God my head was beginning to throb.
Tanner palmed my mound, caressing me, going from violent to tender in seconds. “I’m trying to do things differently with you, Emily.” His eyes lifted from my pussy to meet mine. “But it’s hard to keep the beast at bay when you defy me. We can play this nicely or the way I would normally play it, but either way I’ll get what I want from you. Are. We. Clear?”
The beast? I opened my mouth to respond and then snapped it shut again. What did he mean by beast?
Demons, baby girl. He’s got demons inside of him that need to be exorcised. I wasn’t sure – up until that point – if I believed my father’s belief that demons existed. It was one of the many things I had a hard time wrapping my head around and had me questioning my faith. But what if Father was right, had been right all along? But if he was right, then was this behavior really Tanner’s fault? Wouldn’t Tanner be as much of a victim as I was? I searched Tanner’s eyes for an answer, but his eyes offered none.
Suddenly a conclusion struck me; God’s plan for me. Everything happened for a reason and sometimes it’s not clear what God has in store for us, but I thought I’d discovered mine; maybe I was Tanner’s salvation. Maybe I’d been at that club that night so I’d be the one taken instead of Bonnie, because I could help him. But, how could I do that? How could I rid him of the beast so he could be whole again?
“Yes, Sir.”
“Are you all right?” Tanner put his hand behind my head and pulled it forward.
“I’m okay. What are you doing, Master?”
“Just checking for blood.” His dark eyes narrowed at me, then he gave his head a little shake and redirected his attention to my pussy. “Forget it. Let’s get this done.” He shook the can and sprayed a glob of shaving cream onto his hand and massaged it into the hair of my mound. His hand caressing me reminded me of his earlier caresses and the pleasure he’d brought me. I felt a stirring between my legs and a tingle of need. I didn’t want to feel this way, begged my body not to respond, but my body was betraying me. “Lean back a little further.”
I did as told without hesitation, spreading myself a little wider. The coolness of the bathroom air teased my exposed pussy. I couldn’t let my modesty get in the way of what I’d determined to be my more important mission, although I wasn’t sure what was more detrimental to me at this point, my reaction to him or my modesty.
“How long have you been doing this, Sir?” I asked just as he placed the razor at the top of my mound, at the hairline. He paused the razor on my flesh and looked up, catching my gaze.
His brow furrowed. “Shaving pussy?”
I blushed – I couldn’t help it. It was still going to take some time to get used to his blunt language. “No, like, kidnapping and training women.”
He sighed and lowered his eyes to the task at hand. He brought the razor down, removing the hair. He continued with a second and third strip of hair. Each time he ran the razor along me, my body trembled. By the end of the third stroke, my mound was halfway bare and a dampness was forming at my entrance.
“A long time, Emily.” He spread some more shaving cream on the unshaved areas, which just happened to be on the sides of my pussy lips and hood. As he spread the cream, his finger rubbed against my clit and I inhaled sharply, my hands fisting at my sides.
“Y-you don’t l-look that old. Can’t be that long.” He slid his fingers between my moist folds again, keeping the flesh taut but also torturing me in a way I can’t say I hated, even though I wished I did. I knew he could feel me trembling, and from the smirk that was beginning to form on his lips, I suspected he knew why. In fact, he seemed to be purposely teasing me,
his fingers stroking my clit with each pass of the razor.
“Long enough.” He took a final swipe of the razor, leaving me bare. As I watched him clean me off, I had to admit I liked the way I looked bare. It made me feel strangely sexy. Messed up, I know, but it did. He wordlessly put the razor and cream away, and when he stood I couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his jeans.
The ache between my legs intensified and I closed my eyes as I turned my head away. “So? We’re good.” I needed to distract myself. My head still ached because of him. I needed to focus on the pain – the pain he’d caused me.
“Not quite.”
I yelped when he grabbed me by the hips and pulled my bottom closer to the edge of the counter. My eyes flew open as I watched him kneel before me and place a kiss on my left knee. A part of me screamed to pull away and not let what I thought was going to take place happen, but the realization only fuelled the need within me.
His kisses worked their way higher on my inner thigh. “Wha-what are you doing?” I attempted to pull away, but it was a half-assed effort at best. His hands on my hips kept me rooted exactly where he wanted me.
It’s going to happen regardless of whether I want it to or not, so why not enjoy it, I reasoned.
He lifted his eyes and his smile widened. “I think you know.” He didn’t wait for a reply, although one hand left my hips and began to stroke my slit, from my ass to my clit, taking a moment to tease my swollen nub with each pass. With every inch his lips moved up on my inner thigh, the ache between my legs increased, and I began to squirm, no longer to get away but to help relieve the tension between my legs.
When his lips reached the apex between my thighs, he stopped and looked up again. The hunger in his dark eyes sent a tremor through me. I had to bite down on my lower lip to keep from moaning.
“What? You’re not going to beg me to stop? You’re not going to try to get away?”
I shook my head. “No. What would be the point, Master?”
“Or maybe you want me to.” He lowered his head and pressed his lips to my mound. “Maybe you want to feel my lips on you. Perhaps…” He spread my lips wide, exposing my clit, and his tongue lashed out, flicking at it. “You liked what I did to you earlier today and want more.”
He nipped at my clit and I cried out, one of my hands grasping the back of his head, burying my fingers in his dark hair and urging him for more. “No. I don’t—”
“I told you already, don’t ever lie to me.”
Chapter 8
Tanner
I thrust a finger into Emily as I flicked her clit with my tongue once again. She moaned. She’d been holding back, but as I stroked her core and teased her clit she was quickly losing all resistance. She could lie to me all she wanted, but she couldn’t hide the way her body reacted to me as her hand on my head urged me to continue what I was doing, or the wetness that had formed between her legs in preparation for me.
My cock was getting bothersome, straining against my jeans. I’d denied myself earlier that day, but refused to deny myself tonight. I didn’t plan on fucking her – not yet. But I was going to get relief. Pulling my finger from her core, I licked the length of her slit before standing.
Her eyes were closed and she was leaning against the cracked mirror, her lips slightly parted and her chest heaving. It took a second for her to register the fact that I was no longer kneeling between her legs. She frowned as she opened her eyes and peered up at me, the lust and need in her dark eyes making my cock jerk in my pants.
“I don’t understand…” She sat up straight and continued to stare up at me, her eyes questioning.
“If you want to come, then there’s a price for that.” Grabbing her hips, I lifted her from the countertop and set her on her feet, then led her into the main room and over to the bed. Fuck, it was taking every ounce of restraint I had in me not to pull out my cock, bend her over the bed and fuck her until she collapsed from exhaustion. Normally I wouldn’t have held back now that I’d decided I was going to have her, but in the interests of not fucking up this new strategy…
“What kind of price? I thought…”
I motioned toward the bed. “Sit down.”
The image of her on her knees praying flashed into my mind. She started to sit and I grabbed her arm, stopping her. “I’ve changed my mind. On your knees.” I’m a sacrilegious motherfucker and quite okay with that. Hell, if I could handle listening to gospel music I’d have had her hum a hymn while sucking me off – still might, just not tonight.
She hesitated, but wordlessly did as told, the gentle trembles her body made telling me all I needed to know. She was a long way from trusting me, but despite what I’d previously told her, I’m a patient man.
I ran my fingers through her chestnut-coloured, satiny locks, the smell of the strawberry-scented shampoo I’d supplied her with drifting to my nose. I was glad I didn’t have to tell her to shower each day. Some bitches would think that not showering would be some sort of annoying rebellion; an inconvenience to me. It only took a couple of baths with me holding them under the water until they nearly drowned for them to change their mind right fuckin’ rickety-tick.
Looking up at me from her position at my feet, she waited for her next instruction, eyeing me intently as I pulled my shirt up and over my head, tossing it onto the bed behind her. “Have you touched a man’s cock before?”
A mix of fear and curiosity flashed in her eyes. “No, Master. I don’t—”
“Then this will be another first for you. And you can.” And I liked it. No, loved it. I’d be the only man she’d ever know, the only one who would know her… I stopped my line of thinking right there before I got too carried away. I wouldn’t be the only, I’d be the first.
First, NOT only.
“Master?” She reached up and touched my stomach, her index finger tracing the lines of my abdominals. She paused at one of the many scars my body possessed. My flesh carried with it the history of my life as a trainer, not something I talked about to anyone – ever.
Giving my head a shake to clear my thoughts, I focused my attention back onto her. “Undo my belt and jeans. Take me in your hand.”
Her eyes remained fixated on the largest scar along my left side as she traced it. “What happened to you?”
“None of your concern. Now do as you’re told.”
It looked as though she was about to protest again, but after a moment her hands grasped my belt and slowly pulled it open. She fumbled with the button on my jeans, but managed and pulled down the zipper. With no briefs to contain it, my cock sprang out, standing full and ready. I’d been suffering since I’d stepped foot into her room. Hell, most of the day because of her. It was time to get my relief.
Hooking her fingers into the belt loops on my jeans, she tugged them down to the floor. I chuckled, stepping out of the jeans and kicking them off to the side. “Well, sweetheart, I appreciate you taking the initiative.” She looked up and smiled. What she did next shocked the living shit out of me.
Standing, she pressed her naked body against mine and as she grasped my cock in her hand she slid the other hand up my chest around my neck and urged my head down until her lips touched mine. I inhaled sharply as she tightened her grip on me and stroked my shaft.
“Did I say you could stand up?” I asked, before slipping my arms around her and pulling her tightly to me.
“No, Master.” She thrust her tongue out, tracing my lower lip.
I was still trying to process what was going on. This wasn’t the plan. I hadn’t kissed her since that first night at the club, and there was a reason for it, but I couldn’t resist her. I was the captor, but at the particular moment in time I was the one being controlled. As her lips parted, I took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. She moaned against my lips and melted into me, her hand stroking me harder and quicker. My mind was beginning to lose hold as my body and urges took control.
She was supposed to be on her knees sucking me off, but instead I was pic
king her up and laying her down onto the mattress, my body covering hers, indulging in the softness of her lips and eagerness of her tongue as it danced with mine. My hand slid between us, cupping her breast and gently kneading it, pinching her nipple and turning it into a hardened peak. While in the back of my mind there was a voice chanting that giving her control was dangerous, her soft body and the hand that wrapped itself around my cock once again persuaded me otherwise.
I flipped onto my back, taking her with me as my lips left hers and began to work their way down the side of her neck. I wanted to claim her, explore her, devour every inch of her pure body. Kissing and biting at the sensitive flesh, my bites leaving indentations in her ivory skin, my lips and teeth continued their travels down her neck, but she didn’t scream or attempt to get away.
I had to stop this or I’d be fucking her within minutes. Really not part of the plan for the night. Slipping a hand into her hair, I fisted her locks and yanked her head back roughly. She cried out.
Mmmm, yes. That’s more like it. Scream for me! I didn’t need the moans of pleasure; I needed the screams and the fight.
“You’re not in control, love,” I growled. Never let them have control. Never. It’s a cardinal fucking rule.
“Tanner?” A single tear ran down her cheek. With all the excitement, I’d forgotten about the fact that I’d hurt her head when I slammed it against the mirror. Fuck. It was her own goddammed fault – had she stayed on her knees like she’d been told I wouldn’t have had to hurt her.
Her own fucking fault, I told myself a second time.
“Turn around and suck my cock until I come, slave, and I want you to swallow every drop.”
She released me and began to turn. She wasn’t moving fast enough for my liking. Grabbing her ass, I positioned her over me in the 69 position and pulled her pussy toward me.
“Master?”
My hand pulled back and came down on her ass with a loud smack. I waited, preparing to slap her a second time, when she told me what I wanted to hear. I felt drops of warm liquid falling onto my cock and balls – tears.
Faith (A Dark Romance Novel) Page 7
