Caught Up In You 5: No More Denial (Edgeplay)

by Jenna McCormick

  He stares at me as though I’ve turned green. “You should be running away. Especially after your abduction.”

  “Ian Fletcher’s craziness has nothing to do with us.” Though the thought of being tied up helplessly again makes my stomach heave, I don’t dwell on it. “What is it that you want, Connor? I know I screwed everything up by leaving the way I did. It upset you.”

  “I was devastated.” His tone is sincere, the confession heartfelt.

  “What do I need to do to show you I’m here for good? That I won’t leave you again?”

  Apprehension and what looks like hope flicker over his face as he kneels down in front of me. “You don’t know what you’re offering. And I refuse to break you.”

  I can barely swallow around the lump in my throat. “You won’t. I have faith in you. Now you need to trust me. Trust in us.”

  I can see the instant the decision is made. His eyes remain steady on mine and he says, “I need to be in complete control. To do anything I want to you.”

  “I don’t understand how that’s any different than what we’ve already done.”

  “No safeword. No stopping until it’s over.”

  I swallow hard. He means business. Without a safeword I’d be completely at his mercy. A flash of me tied helplessly to the bed with Ian Fletcher standing over me pushes to the front of my brain but I shove it away. “Can you tell me why this is important to you?”

  I expect him to move away, to hide his face in some way, but that’s not my Connor. He looks me straight in the eye as he bares his soul. “They forced me to be their sex slave. The men who took me. They used me hard, would starve or beat me if I refused. I’m not sure when my mind fragmented, but I know why. The part of me that endured it, that was raped repeatedly, swore one day he’d kill them and he’d never let anyone have power over him again. It’s all that got him—that got me through.”

  “Dom Connor.” My heart is breaking, cracking in half as surely as his psyche once did.

  “Baily, you have too much power over me. I need to get it back somehow. I’ve been dreaming about holding you down. That’s why I was so afraid to let you sign that paper. He’d done it before, enacted a rape fantasy with another woman. He thought she didn’t know who he was, thought he could get it out of his system. In the end she threatened to file rape charges unless I paid her off.”

  “God, Connor.” He was killing me with every word.

  “That night in the car, I thought you wanted the same thing. That you wanted me to chase you, to take the choice from you. It made me crazy to think you were denying us both.”

  “I was drunk and clueless and your anger scared me to death.” But at the same time I was aroused. He’d stroked me to orgasm and if I hadn’t panicked I might have gotten off on everything.

  Taking a deep breath, I touch his face. “If we do this, I need to know you aren’t angry with me, that you’re not trying to take something out on my body.”

  His eyes widen. “You’re considering this?”

  I pause, expecting to hear something from Snarkarella, but she’s silent. “I love you, Connor. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I just want to be sure we both come back from this.”

  He nods. “You should do a little research on rape fantasy and edgeplay. Make sure this is really what you want. Come back to me when you’re ready. If you ever are.

  ****

  It takes me about twelve hours to send him an email with my one word answer. Ready.

  It might be a lie. The research I’ve done online hadn’t been all that helpful. Edgeplay is anything considered borderline nuts in BDSM circles because it may result in injuries or even death. Blood play, fire play, erotic asphyxiation and rape fantasy all fall into this beyond the safe, sane and consensual category. Some men who’ve suffered abuse lose control during rape fantasy and wind up really raping their lovers.

  But if the alternative is losing Connor, it’s worth the risk.

  When he doesn’t respond right away I’m filled with relief and then disappointment. Maybe the part of me that’s still sane just wants to get this over with. I take a hot bath and then crawl between cool clean sheets, wishing my lover would come help me mess them up.

  He’s there when I wake, towering over me. I start in surprise. A hand covers my mouth as the other rip the sheets from the bed. I tremble under his touch, not from fear but from need. My body is hungry and only he can satisfy it.

  “You’re coming with me.” He strips my body of the flannel pajamas, buttons pinging. He binds my hands with rope. My eyes go wide at this first test, but then he moves to rub a whiskered cheek against my face. His familiar scent envelopes me. I’m safe with Connor. He won’t hurt me. “You’re mine.”

  After securing my hands, he moves on to my feet, then hoists me over his shoulder. I squeak in protest and one strong hand smacks hard against my bare ass. “Don’t make a sound or I’ll punish you.” The erotic stroke between my bare cheeks promises sensual torment.

  Just like the first time, he heads into the secret tunnel. I don’t know if this is part of his therapy or just a convenient way to take me unseen into the main estate. His strength astounds me, his touch electrifies, and I become more aroused with every step.

  Soon we enter his study, but he doesn’t stop there. Instead he heads down into that forbidden portion of the basement. He proceeds to the far wall, to the swing, and eases me into it.

  He secures one foot, and then the other into the swing, spreading me obscenely wide. His eyes glitter in the low light, like sapphires, his gaze locked on my exposed flesh. “I’m going to make you scream my name tonight.” It’s a vow and I don’t doubt for a second he can do it.

  A chain with a hook hangs down and he eases my arms up until the thick hook catches the binding. I struggle first with the waves of panic and being trapped, and then with the bindings. No safeword! “Connor, I don’t know—”

  “Ssshhh,” His hands move over my exposed flesh, caressing me, exploring me, enticing me. I gasp when his fingers pinch my nipples hard, then groan when he rolls them between calloused thumb and forefinger.

  “You can’t stop this.” There’s actual glee in his voice. “I can do whatever I want to you, for hours. No decisions, you are mine to take, to control. To love however I see fit.”

  He leaves my breasts and turns to a small chest. It’s a freezer, I realize when he lifts the latch and cold air caresses my exposed skin. I shiver involuntarily. Reaching for the table, he draws on leather gloves. I frown, puzzled as to why he needs those.

  “I made something for you. Would you like to see it?”

  The wicked gleam in his eyes robs me of speech. What could he possibly be planning? I nod and he withdraws an ice rod that looks remarkably like a frozen…

  I gasp and he actually laughs, delighted. “I see you get the point. Or you’re about to.”

  I lick my lips and he brings the ice cock to them. “If you want to lick something, you can start here.

  My lips close around the wide circumference.

  “Swirl your tongue around it.” He strokes my hair, gentling me while I do his bidding. He trails it down my chin, leaving a path of droplets across my skin. I shiver and he kisses me, his heat replacing the cold even as the icy phallus circles my already puckered nipples.

  “Connor,” I gasp, as the buds tighten to the point of pain. He moves it away, following the outer swell up one arm then down the other. More melting means more droplets of water. I shiver though I actually feel hot. Goosebumps break out all over, every cell trained on my sensual tormenter.

  He follows the other arm back down. I jerk as the cold meets the sensitive underside of my arm. Just when I get used to the chill he places an open mouth kiss there.

  More melting, more wetness as he torments my breast, rolling the oblong object over the mounds, soaking my skin. His lips capture one nipple between his teeth even as the other is dabbed by the dripping cold water of the melting ice cock.

 
My head falls back, tension so tight I don’t know how much more I can take. I must voice my concerns out loud, because he answers. “But we’ve only just begun.”

  Down it glides, dripping in my navel, the water pooling there until he laps it out. His eyes meet mine and my breath hitches when he sees exactly how much this fire and ice play is arousing me.

  He kneels before me. My sex is aching, needing contact with him. “Touch me,” I beg.

  But it’s the ice that covers my skin. I jump, not expecting the cold even though I should have. It doesn’t last long, soon replaced by his hot open mouth kiss.

  His tongue traces over my seam, dipping shallowly into my overflowing well. My head thrashes back and forth and I scream when the ice cock slides inside me, even as his burning lips capture my clit.

  I shatter, coming around the cold length, bucking into his hot mouth.

  Then it’s gone. He pulls it from my body and tackles his own pants. I’m shaking still, mindless with need, but the hot push of his cock clarifies everything.

  He doesn’t move, instead gripping the swing and pulling me onto him. He stretches me, warming me from the inside out, filling my greedy channel. I’m slick with water, wet with need and desperate for him.

  His control is iron hard as he withdraws by pushing me away, then melds us with another pull. Push-pull, over and over in the same maddeningly slow rhythm, his eyes locked on my face, waiting.

  “Connor,” I whisper his name on the end of a broken sob. I want him to give it to me, everything he’s held back, kept me safe from. I’ve given him everything and want no less in return.

  Then the ice cock is back, aimed at my clit. I shake my head furiously. “I can’t, I can’t.”

  “You will.”

  The cold touch sends me over. My voice breaks as I hit a higher note, screaming my release with a hot shaft filling me and a cold one tormenting me.

  But still he isn’t done. He withdraws from me slowly, and as though loath to leave. He reaches around me and reclines the swing so my back is parallel to the floor, with my toes still in the harness pointing toward the ceiling.

  I whimper as he licks my juicy cunt, out of my head, unable to hold any more pleasure. He can’t expect me to go through it all again.

  Can he?

  His gloved hands spread the round curves of my ass and I shudder as his tongue probes the tiny opening. Then a slow, wet glide with his flattened appendage that I can’t help but relax into in my post-orgasmic state.

  Of course he’s not satisfied to let me simply enjoy anything. While I’m expecting another luscious kiss on the sensitive skin, I get a cold probe with that frozen phallus. “No,” I pant, my body contracting around it.

  “Yes,” he says, before indulging me with another decadent lick.

  I expect the ice this time but my body resists. He patiently assaults my tight ring though, unrelenting. It occurs to me then exactly what he has in mind.

  He’ll fuck my ass with the cold cock before doing the same with his own. But the ice cock has lost considerable girth, while his is as huge and hard as ever. I shiver from more than the cold.

  As though he’s read my thoughts he murmurs, “Figured it out yet? That I’m going to take this tonight?” Another hot swipe, another cold press. I arch up as my body gives in. The cold numbs any pain as he pushes it deep, the melting water giving it a smooth, easy glide. I scream then, his name, just as he predicted, and he answers with a growl.

  The ice cock vanishes, and I pant, ready for him to take this final step, to join our bodies.

  Connor rises to his feet and whips off his gloves. He sets them on the table, then retrieves a bottle of lube. His eyes are intense as he pours it onto himself.

  I expect him to shove inside me then, can feel his heat at my stretched opening. But he hesitates, checking my face, checking to make sure I’m okay, that I want this.

  “Connor,” I moan, and then he presses forward. There’s little resistance as the head of his shaft breeches my body. I’m stretching around him easily, ready for him because he made sure I would be.

  “So tight,” he grunts, pulling the swing closer. I can’t do much but I can squeeze him with my inner muscles. “So hot.”

  I squeeze again, harder this time.

  “Yes!” he shouts, shoving all the way in. His head goes back and I see the sweat pouring down his neck. Without looking he reaches for my sex, sliding two fingers into my wet sheath, while his thumb presses on my clit. But he can’t pleasure me and control the swing at the same time. A frustrated groan rips from his chest.

  “Untie my hands,” I pant. “I can take care of myself.”

  With a gentle tug, the knot unravels. My arms burn as circulation rushes back, but I ignore the pain, instead giving my man what he wants.

  Everything.

  With his hands free he moves the swing faster, and I work both hands over my sex. Three fingers of one hand plunge in and out, and I pinch my clit between the thumb and forefinger of the other hand.

  He bucks me hard and fast until his release roars through him. His hot seed fills my back passage and I jerk, shocked by a total body orgasm ripping through my system. My vision wavers and every muscle in my body goes limp.

  When I come to, we’re in his office, both still naked, although he looks fresh from the shower and I can smell toothpaste and soap. I’m sprawled out on the bearskin rug and Connor is cleaning me up with slow, sensual strokes from a wet washcloth. I smile as I feel the washcloth between my legs, content to let him care for my in the aftermath. But still… “You okay?”

  His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “That’s my line.”

  I grip his arms to stop him from distracting me with the sensual sponge bath. “What’s wrong, Connor? Wasn’t it what you wanted?”

  He leans in closer. “You’re what I want. What I need, what I crave every second of every day.”

  “I know exactly what that’s like,” I say, running my hands through his hair.” That’s how I feel about you.”

  “But I’m still broken,” he whispers, tugging on my heartstrings. “I shouldn’t need to do those things to you.”

  “You’re not broken, love.” I kiss the side of his jaw and pull him down so his head rests against my breasts. “That may have been how it looked to me before. It may even have been how it felt. But there’s a method to your madness, a reason you operate the way you do. It kept you sane and functioning, made you successful. You aren’t less for what you went through, you’re more because of it.”

  “Do you really think so?” he asks.

  “I know so.” Being with another man might be simpler than being with Connor, but I can’t even conceive of a future without him.

  He squeezes me tightly. “I’m never going to let you go now. You’re mine.”

  “Is that part of your fantasy?” I smile.

  “It’s part of our reality. I’m so caught up in you that I don’t know where you end and I begin.”

  I grin and bite my lip. His cock shoots hard against my thigh. “What have I told you about that?”

  “That it makes you want to fuck my face?” I wiggle enticingly, pressing against him for all I’m worth. “Did I ever mention the fantasy I have about this bear skin rug?”

  “Does it go like this?” He slides into me in one perfect thrust and I cling to his broad shoulders. I’m lost in the physical sensation. The heat that is building again.

  “I love you, Baily Sinclair,” he whispers a moment before we go soaring together.

  “Yes,” I whisper sometime later. “It goes exactly like that.”

  ~The End~

  ~Coming soon from Sanibel Moon Books!~

 

 

 
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