Cuffed

by Angel Payne

  Stop where you are, asshole, or I’ll give this stupid squaw a nice little scalping.

  Way to go, Rayna. That went about as wrong as it could have, huh? Maybe, girlfriend, you do need to go back to the jungle. Maybe you really are just a stupid little squaw.

  He lifted his head and looked at Rayna with a stare that forced the years to fall from her face. He willed himself to see her as a girl blooming into her teen years, with that red hair hanging a little longer and bangs caressing her eyebrows. She was wearing capri pants and a fuchsia top. Dirty tears tracked her cheeks. And Kier was hanging his bare, dirty dick over her face.

  “That was you.”

  His voice was a hoarse effort. Rayna’s reply was no stronger.

  “That was me.”

  “How—”

  “Sally. I went to see her. I finally let her hypnotize me.”

  That made him laugh. At himself. “The hypnosis I kept telling you get?”

  “Yep.”

  The time-travel crane went to work again. It tore him open just as deeply as it dumped him back here with Rayna, gaping at her through a haze of shock, incredulity, amazement. No wonder she’d come to see him at the club. No wonder she’d kept looking at him like her goddamn wishing star had just crash-landed.

  Maybe it had.

  For both of them.

  And maybe it was time to do something about that.

  Without wasting another word, another breath, he closed the distance to her again. Before he was done planting his feet, he curled his hand into her hair and yanked hard. A little cry burst from her, swirling to him like an enchantress’s smoke. Like the cobra called by that smoke, he plunged his mouth to hers. He bit, sucked, and licked, countering his violent hold with smooth caresses to her face. She bent for him without constraint, showing him with her body what her lips had already given.

  Her trust.

  The most precious gift she’d ever handed to him.

  As the rain began again, the room darkened. Zeke pulled away to watch the gray and silver shadows play across all the lively, gorgeous curves of her face. He sucked away a few of the tears that clung to her cheeks and then delved his gaze into her eyes, giving her something in return.

  An order.

  “Take this thing off. Then kneel for me, honey.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Saying those words for a man had never been a spark in Rayna’s mind, even after what she’d learned from Sage about the world of D/s, but right now, they felt completely natural. Magical. And so, so perfect.

  Because she’d uttered them for Zeke.

  Because she knew what they’d do for him.

  Because she needed to know what they’d do for her, too.

  She thought the admission would grant her a clinical distance about this, make this threshold feel safer to jump over somehow. Yeah, and wearing a parachute made it less terrifying to hurtle out of a plane. Detachment wasn’t happening. Tremulousness, nervousness, and awareness were happening, along with the sense that shedding the dopey shirt off was stripping more than the shield to her nudity. Something significant in her mind dropped, too. Too late, she realized what it was. Her inner uptown girl. That horny, cavalier, this-is-just-sex girl from Thursday night wasn’t here anymore. This wasn’t just sex anymore, either.

  This was surrender. A gift that showed him how deeply he’d woven himself into her heart, how dark the ink of his heroism was tattooed upon her life. She made the offering with the fullness of her soul because she knew what it would mean to him…but also what it meant to her.

  Yes. God help her, she wanted this with every cell in her body. Not forever. Probably not even tomorrow. But right now, nothing felt more right than dropping to her knees before him, fixing her gaze on his rough bare feet, and waiting, breath held, for what he’d do with her next.

  What would he do with her next?

  By the sound of his puma’s growl, she sensed his dark answer for that. But he was stealthy and still otherwise, continuing to stand over her, which made her shiver in anticipation…and drip in arousal. It took a shaking breath and pressed lips to hold back her whimper as desire clenched every inch of her wet pussy.

  “So stunning,” he finally told her in a husky grate. “Thank you, bird.”

  As he lowered a hand to the top of her head, kneading his fingers into her scalp, Rayna managed, “My—my pleasure, Sir.”

  His massages stopped. He slid that hand to the side of her face, bracketing her jaw with his thumb and forefinger before lifting her face up. “Not yet, sweetheart.” His answering gaze was burnished with possessive smoke. “But soon. Very soon.”

  He pulled away from her and settled back into his A-frame stance a few feet away. Defying her control, her gaze lifted from his feet. Up his carved and mighty calves. Over the defined tendons and muscles of his thighs. Lingering for a long moment on the hard force that punched at his nylon shorts before raising to the arrow of hair that bisected the defined ladders of his abs. When she looked even higher, it was to view his coiled arms atop the dark breadth of his chest. Across every inch of him, there were scars, nicks, and bruises, some silvered from long-ago battles and some painfully new. He was a walking scrapbook of violent battle and contained power.

  He could really hurt her, and nobody would know.

  Why did that make her nipples go painfully hard and her channel push out even more wet arousal?

  Finally, she couldn’t bear the unknowing silence anymore. “Wh-What happens now?” She glanced up at him though she’d heard that was a major subbie no-no.

  Zeke emitted a deep hum that didn’t make things easier for her nerves or her nipples. “It’s already happening, bird.”

  “Huh?”

  “Ssshh. Just breathe,” he instructed. “And just be. Right now, it’s your job to simply let me look. And believe me, honey, I’m looking.”

  The sultry cadence that entered his voice made the cold rain suddenly seem a summer cloudburst. She was washed in liquid warmth, feeding off his sensual strength. It was a little confusing. Wasn’t she the one required to give over the power here? Then why did she feel powerful enough to fight an invading army by herself? The thought made her squirm a little, only increasing the flow of tantalizing tingles through her bloodstream.

  “Nervous?” Zeke asked softly.

  “A little,” she admitted.

  “Then other things are making you wiggle, too.”

  Her head fell. She couldn’t even look at his feet when she admitted, “Yes, Sir.”

  “Let me see.”

  “I— What?” she stuttered.

  “You heard me, bird. Let me see your aroused pussy. Spread your knees wider and lay your back against the floor so your cunt is pushed up for my inspection.”

  She’d expected orders from him, but not like this. And his tone? No more seductive silk. He really was Vader now, without the creepy hyperventilation. His deep, guttural tone said he expected to be obeyed without question.

  She didn’t ask any questions.

  With quivering limbs and a shaking heartbeat, she moved her knees apart before lowering her back to the floor.

  “Raise your hands above your head,” he said, reading the confusion in her awkward hand flails. “Join them together, flat on the floor.”

  Once she’d complied, she held her breath and waited for the next instruction. None came. Zeke barely moved, aside from stepping closer to line up his toes with her kneecaps. Two minutes ago, she’d been unable to rip her gaze from him. This changeup took care of that obsession. She riveted her attention on the ceiling, just trying to maintain the position, though she was hyperaware of every breath on her lips, every pulse in her blood, every molecule of air that hit the moist tissues she’d opened for his examination. With her arms positioned overhead, she was completely exposed to him from the waist up, as well. He took full advantage of the moment. The weight of his stare was as hot as a bath in candle wax, encasing her in its heat one
inch at a time. She’d never been commanded to assume such a vulnerable physical position before.

  It didn’t come close to what he was doing to her on the inside.

  She was scared. Excited. Trembling. Rejoicing. Unsure. Unfettered. Small, so small, yet poised on the threshold of something significant…magnificent. Beyond that doorway, something glowed just out of her reach, a captivating but terrifying light.

  “Oh, honey.” Zeke’s rough rasp tugged her an inch closer to that magical portal. “You are glistening, aren’t you? And I haven’t even told you what I have planned for your sweet little body yet.”

  She attempted a nonchalant shrug. “M-Maybe it’s okay to just surprise me.”

  “Maybe it’s not.” There was half a laugh in the words, but it definitely danced on a stage of black humor. “You’re going to hear what I’ve got in mind, bird, because I want to see how your body reacts to it. Then I need to hear your lips consent to all of it.”

  She fired off a dismissive huff. “We’ve been through this. Zeke, I—”

  “You trust me,” he retorted. “I know that. And thank you. But this isn’t negotiable, bird. Not by a long shot.”

  She took her turn to laugh. “‘Negotiable?’ Really? You want to draw up a little contract while we’re at it, Sergeant?”

  He scooted his toes to the insides of her knees and widened his stance, making her spread farther for him. “That’s ‘Sir’ to you from this point forward, honey. And yes, we’ll stop and draft a contract if we have to. This isn’t the part you rush through. This honesty is the keystone of the bridge. Got it?”

  She pushed out a frustrated snort. “Of course I got it, okay? Zeke”—she rushed to correct herself—“Sir, when are you going to get it through your head that I’ve thought about this? That, maybe just once, I really want this?”

  She expected him to pull the toe-scooting thing again. Maybe add a grunt this time. Maybe, just maybe he’d smile in pleasure and get on with—whatever the hell he was going to get on with.

  She should’ve remembered that this man and the word expected weren’t on speaking terms with each other.

  The thought ricocheted through her brain as Zeke acted with wildcat speed. In one sweep, he’d moved to stand above her head. In another, he crouched and grabbed her wrists. In a third, he whipped her around to face the leather couch. The velocity of it all caused her to lose balance and pitch forward. She was able to stop her fall by gripping the top of the couch. He flowed his body in perfect synch with her, pressing his breaths to her nape, his chest against her spine, his thighs along hers. He shoved the hair off her neck before biting his way to the curve of her ear.

  “When are you going to get it through your head that I’ve wanted this, fantasized about this, since the night I met you?” He plunged both hands down to grab her inner thighs. With feral force, he pulled them open, settling her naked backside against the hard, huge length that defined his crotch. “That even in that hospital bed after the stabbing, my cock turned my gown into a goddamn central supply tent because of what I thought of doing with you…and to you.”

  He didn’t give the words half a second to sink in before he demonstrated for himself, scraping his fingers along the sensitive flesh on both sides of her labia. Those intimate lips quivered in response. Joined with the way his legs kept brushing the backs of her knees, his assault became a torment of blissful agony. Dear God. Zeke’s College of Power Exchange was in session, and Breathing was on the optional courses list. Speaking? Not part of the curriculum.

  “Even in Korea,” he went on in a grate that turned the rest of her bloodstream to mush, “hell, especially in Korea, I dreamed of all the ways I wanted to take your body and turn it inside out. How I wanted to tear inside your mind, pull out all your pain, then—”

  She felt him suppress the rest on an agonized grunt. Rayna protested by surging herself back and rolling her head against his shoulder. Then what? Holy hell, Zeke. Tell me before I have to throw myself over the balcony in order to ease this fire you’ve set in my body.

  The new frisson of tension through his frame told her he might just be on that mind track. Thank God she was right.

  “I’m going to start out by keeping you right here, bird. I’m going to bend you over so your ass is nice and high for me. Then I’m going to make it beautiful and pink by spanking it with my bare hand. After I warm us both up, I’ll be doing it fast and I’ll be doing it hard.”

  She moaned for him. Or thought she did. She couldn’t hear anything for a moment beyond his smoldering breaths in her ear and the rush of arousal to her bloodstream.

  “When your pussy is dripping from that, I’m going to make you get on the bed. You’ll be facing up so I can watch every sigh on your lips as I secure you to the four corners of it. Then I’ll watch every scream as I subject your skin to a bunch of very interesting sensations.”

  Rayna already gave him the sigh he predicted. “Do—Do I get to know what they are?” she managed to squeak.

  Zeke gave her a deep chuckle. “What happened to the girl who wanted to be surprised?”

  She got her head to cooperate with a short nod. “She’s still here…somewhere.”

  A rumble of pleasure vibrated his chest before he slid his fingers back up her body, scoring her skin with his nails on his way over her hips, stomach, and rib cage. When he got to the tender nubs of her nipples, he finally stopped. The masculine thunder rolled through him once more as Rayna gasped from the heaven of his touch.

  “As I line my cock up to your tight, wet tunnel, I’m going to pinch these, Rayna. I’m going to watch your nipples pucker and redden for me while your cunt gushes, begging for my dick. It’ll tell your lips to plead with me, too—but you won’t. From now on, your words are mine, too. If any of this gets overwhelming or painful, you’ll call out one word to me. That word is Kier.”

  “What!” She nearly unleashed the scream he wanted from her, as well.

  His reply came with an arrogant lilt. “You’re not going to forget it, right? And if you use it, I’ll know you need to stop.”

  “Damn straight,” she grumbled, though she wasn’t allowed to wallow in her irritation. The next moment, her ass was set on fire by a swift, determined smack. “Oh!”

  “Your words are mine, remember?” If he was arrogant before, he was in complete Marc Antony mode now, spinning her so he could peer down at her like his prized Cleopatra. And damn it if her whole body didn’t crave him just like dear Cleo, too. “You can say ‘yes, Sir’ if you understand, subbie.”

  Subbie. His affectionate drawl turned her inner Cleopatra into a fig in the Saharan sun. “Yes,” she whispered, sprawling her fingers along his biceps. “Oh yes, Sir.”

  “So you accept the intentions I have for you this afternoon, freely and openly?” After she nodded, he went on. “That means you are willingly submitting your body and your mind to me, Rayna. You’re placing yourself completely into my care. You know that choices will not be yours. You will be mine to claim, to mark, and to fuck as I wish.”

  She was glad she had a good grip on his arms. They kept her from swaying at the impact of his words, which already swirled such a thick erotic haze into her mind that her vision went cloudy. Gazing up at him didn’t make things easier. His dark hair tumbled against his jaw. His gaze penetrated her like a pair of solid bronze javelins. His wide, dark torso made her feel small and helpless in all the oh-so-right ways, especially as he dug his fingers into her hips with increasing purpose.

  “Y-Yes,” she finally got out. Shit, even the chest hair that tapered between his pecs was perfect, stabbing between her fingers with coarse tension.

  “Yes…what?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  She dipped her head again. It felt natural, almost right. Best of all, it brought out the rugged vibrations from deep within him again, making its way through to her body, causing the tips of her breasts to shiver like flowers answering to the wind.

  “God damn, that sounds beautif
ul on your lips.” He roamed his grip up her body and back down. His battle-roughened fingers abraded her hips, her waist, her shoulders, and the sides of her tingling, taut breasts. “And I’m going to fucking love hearing you say it, over and over again. Right now, you’ll position yourself on the couch again for me, exactly as I had you before. Rest your forehead on your arms, and push your gorgeous ass into the air for me.”

  He backed the directive up by turning her to face the couch again. “I’m going downstairs to get some things. You’ll wait for me like that, and you’ll think about how I’m going to touch you exactly how I please. You’ll think about how incredible this spanking is going to feel on your beautiful skin.”

  Incredible? She was glad Z couldn’t see the pucker on her face as she arranged herself back into the position he’d specified. It was one thing to fall into this stance by accident due to his passion but another to willingly brace herself again, her legs open and her body exposed…to an empty room. It felt awkward. And more than a little ridiculous. Surely he could have just told her to sit on the bed and wait for him, right? What good was this going to—?

  She stopped the inner rambling when she heard him rustle around downstairs. The clangs and bangs suggested he was in the kitchen, though she couldn’t be sure. He pulled out drawers and opened cabinets, interjecting his journey with wicked chuckles—which drove her curious tension even higher.

  To her wonder, the mental friction carried repercussions in her body, too. Since she was alone in the room with nothing but her breath for company, her mind fast became an empty mental playground for Z’s words to play in. They took full advantage of the chance, too.

  Think about how I’m going to touch you…

  That one jumped on the teeter-totter that alternated between her breasts. The syllables traded the blistering taps between each nipple, sucking away her breath each time they did.

  Exactly as I please…