Her Knight In Faded Denim

by Carolyn Faulkner

  She buried her eyes against his solid neck, feeling those big arms automatically cuddling her closer. "I don't know. But I'd hate to do anything that made it worse."

  He took a deep breath and said something he'd been mulling over for a while. "Well, then, I think it's time we braved the lion's den. Why don't we have them over? Or meet them for dinner or something? Get things out in the open and deal with them, then we can all move forward."

  "No, I don't think that's a good idea at all." Rissa was shaking her head so vigorously that it seemed in danger of falling off.

  "Why not?" he asked, more patiently than he felt.

  "Because I don't want to."

  "And you know that's not a valid answer."

  She nodded her head at least as vigorously as she had been shaking it. "Yep. It is. I checked."

  "Not with me, you didn't, baby."

  Rissa found herself beneath him on the couch as he pressed her back into the cushions, then flipped her over, literally ripping the shorts from her body and pushing the shirt up far enough that it naturally fell off her and into a pile on the floor.

  The sight of her naked and bent over, awaiting him submissively, turned him on like none other. He could see that she was still wearing the marks from the last time he'd spanked her and was even still a bit red around the edges in places. Her skin was so fair that nearly anything he did to her stayed with her for quite a while, reminding her nicely every time she sat down that she was his.

  Dodge reached out and brought her back up against him, his hands making free with every part of her body they touched, knowing she wouldn't protest and indeed reveled in his complete possession of her and the ways that manifested itself in their sex life. She was a firecracker, but overall, surprisingly submissive in other ways. He knew it was often a challenge for her to accept how pervasive he insisted his control of her should be, and he thought that was probably a good thing for her. She needed the challenge of learning how to do something that was just a bit objectionable to her.

  And she certainly needed the discipline he provided when she didn't quite meet the high mark he set for her.

  But when he touched her like this, she surrendered so sweetly, reaching back to put her hands on his shoulders, as he'd taught her. So that they were well out of his way, arching her back and moaning as he tugged, pinched, and rolled those beautiful nipples, flicking them and squeezing her breasts hard enough to make her gasp, and not letting up then, either, until he wanted to.

  Sometimes, he'd told her, and she seemed perfectly accepting of, it was just for him. And this was one of those times. He was fully ready – had been since well before he came in the door – and he wanted her. He saw absolutely no reason to deny himself any further, so he didn't.

  Rissa found herself bent over again, bracing her knees well apart on the sofa as he preferred, when she felt him begin to enter her, with no further foreplay.

  And she didn't need any. She needed to have him take her like this, for himself, without worrying about her pleasure. Especially since, she was right there with him, embarrassingly slick, hot, and ready for him.

  Dodge couldn't remember a time when she hadn't been, even when he took her just after a very severe punishment. She was always a bit more docile then, but it seemed her body was in a perpetual state of welcome for him.

  He was rapidly coming to the point where he forgot to worry about whether or not she could accommodate him. All of her whimpers and mewls were of pleasure, even from the beginning. So he slid himself deep inside her in one slow, steady thrust, seating himself completely, holding her shoulders to that she couldn't escape the feeling of him invading her. Then, he began a rhythm that only took him just a bit out of her, then slamming himself back in. Making her scream and cry and lift her hips to him, wanting more, demanding more, until he let himself loose on her completely and took her with everything he had, as hard as he could, with only the slightest small niggling at the back of his head about being careful of her.

  But, as she always said, they were made to fit together.

  And it was that knowledge that sent him over the edge – still much too quickly for his preferences – pounding into her mercilessly on a loud, long growl.

  When he moved away, with a possessive pat to her rear, she collapsed next to him, her hand coming dangerously near to her crotch.

  His sharp, if winded, "Marissa!" was enough to keep her from touching, but barely. She was horny! He'd left her in the lurch, and if he wasn't going to take care of her, then she was going to do it for him.

  Someday, she was actually going to learn what it was like to ascend the stairs to his bedroom on her own, but that wasn't going to happen tonight. Instead, he gathered her into his arms and carried her up to the bedroom, laying her gently down in the middle of the bed after dressing her again in the shirt she'd been wearing, but the shorts were definitely a casualty of his desire.

  When they snuggled under the covers a few minutes later, he said, "Leave Sophie to me, Shorty. I've wanted to talk to her for a while and I should have called her long ago. I'll set up a time for us four to have dinner together. Until then, you stay here with me. Lots of your stuff is already here, and I don't want you to go back there until we've worked this out. I'll arrange to get your stuff from Tennessee, too."

  Sometimes, it was damned nice to have a man to lean on, especially one who didn't shy away from the messy stuff of living. "Thank you."

  "You're very welcome, sweetie."

  "Now, bring me off," she commanded, sitting up a bit on her elbow to stare down at him expectantly.

  He didn't want to, but he couldn't keep himself from laughing at how Dommish she sounded, the minx. "What?"

  Her free hand was busy tweaking his nipples, then boldly making its way to his cock.

  "I'm horny! I didn't get to come, although you got me awfully close. I want to come!"

  She was cute when she was petulant, to a point, and her hand did feel pretty damned good, but he knew he couldn't let her think that she could demand such things from him. He decided things like that, and she had agreed to it.

  "No, sweetie. Not now. Tomorrow, if you're a good girl."

  Like that was going to happen any time soon! she thought to herself.

  "It's not fair! You made me get rid of Mr. Happy altogether, and now you're too tired to see to your obligations," she whined while still coaxing him to an aching rigidity.

  Dodge had a distinct dislike for mechanical apparatus in the bedroom, unless perhaps it pertained to her discipline. He'd be all for a spanking machine, but Mr. Happy – along with all of his myriad friends – had gone in the garbage. Rissa had been sure that the trash men had gotten quite a kick out of her collection.

  That had been the exact wrong thing to say. Was she ever going to learn to keep her big mouth shut around him?

  Within seconds, she was beneath him, full to the brim with the excitement she had conjured in him.

  "I will wear you out, Miss Marissa, and still not allow you to come."

  And then he did just that, for the second time that night, only this time, since he had already had one mind-blowing culmination; he was able to take much longer at it than he usually could.

  Again, he paid absolutely no attention to her pleasure whatsoever, but rather concentrated completely on his own titillation, well aware of the fact that, in many ways, the two were one and the same.

  So when he spurted inside her for a record second time after an amazingly short remission, then turned out the lights and the TV and hugged her to him, she was even more frustrated than she had been the first time he'd tried to pack her off to bed.

  Only this time, she knew better than to whine at him about it.

  Dinner arrangements were made relatively quickly, and they all got together at a barbeque place a couple of towns away that had fall off the bone ribs, lean pulled pork and brisket to die for, along with six different sauces that aimed to please pretty much everyone.

  The booths
were big and relatively private, especially since they were going early on a weeknight. Everyone had been there before, except Rissa, but all anyone had to say to her was ribs and she was there, so ordering was accomplished with a minimum of fuss, and they were left with their drinks – the men had beer and the two women had sparkling lemonade.

  Dodge decided that the best plan was just to get everything out in the open and dealt with so that they could put it away and get on to enjoying each other's company. He liked Sonny a lot, and, although he didn't know Sophie anywhere near as well, he wanted to get to know her and intended to like her, both as his friend's wife and his woman's sister. And he wanted to allay any fears she had about him, so that moving in was as easy on Rissa as it possibly could be.

  "Well, I thought it would be nice if we all got together and got to know each other. Sonny's been bugging me since I met him to come to your house for dinner, and I'm sorry I haven't taken him up on it, Sophie. I know you're a real fine cook by some of the things you've baked for the guys at the station, and I appreciate it."

  Sophie flushed and bestowed a small smile on him but didn't say anything else.

  Dodge cleared his throat. "Marissa and I, well, we're very happy together, and I aim to do everything I can to make sure that we stay that way. I thought it might be a good idea, since she's decided to stay around here, that she should move in with me and stop imposing on you two."

  Sophie looked like she was going to cry as she set her gaze on her sister. "Have we made you feel unwelcome?"

  "No, no, of course not! But I've been living in your house for months now, and you know what they say about company and fish after three days…"

  "I think that sounds like a great idea, doesn't it, Soph?" Sonny asked encouragingly.

  "It would be wonderful if you could be happy for us, Sopha," Marissa asked, using the nickname she'd given Sophia when she was a little girl and couldn't make it through all three syllables.

  "I am, I am," she protested, reaching for a napkin from the table to dab her eyes. "I just…"

  "I know you're not very fond of Dodge, but he grows on you, I promise."

  "Kind of like mold?" Sonny supplied helpfully, only to subside at the overwhelming glares he got from all three sides.

  Sophie glanced up at Dodge, then back down at the table. "I just don't want you to get hurt, is all. I don't really have anything against Dodge – you've been wonderful to Sonny, really." She snuck a peek at him, then back down at her hands again. "She's my baby sister, you know? And you guys started seeing each other really quickly after her last breakup, and I just… It hurts me to see her hurt, you know, and I don't want that to happen again. I want her to find a guy like my Sonny, who is going to settle her down some, maybe, and make her happy for the rest of her life, not just a couple months like the other guys…"

  Rissa was beginning to think that it wasn't her lover who thought she was slutty, it was her sister.

  But Dodge could feel just how what her sister was saying was affecting Marissa, and he clamped her tight to his side in warning. "Well, you just described me to a 't'. I'm depressingly staid, I have a steady job and money in the bank…and what's more, I love her. And I'll take care of her, I promise." He dropped a kiss on Rissa's lips, then grabbed his beer and lifted it, as if in a toast. "Whether she wants me to or not."

  His bold, truthful declarations seemed to soothe Sophie's "older sister" feathers, and then the food arrived, and Sonny introduced politics, and it was all over from there. The two sisters were dyed in the wool liberals, and the two men were confirmed conservatives, and never the twain would meet.

  Marissa and Dodge decided they would go to the polls together and cancel each other's votes out, just as Sonny and Sophie did.

  It wasn't until they were walking out to their respective cars that Rissa got all excited about something she'd thought of, and when there was a break in the conversation she said, "Sonny, I want to do a ride along with you!"

  All three of them stood there, looking at her in disbelief, one in alarm for her, one in alarm for himself, and the other in anger.

  "Well, I do," she reiterated, only slightly deterred by the reaction she was getting.

  "Marissa, you and I have discussed this before…" Dodge began.

  "No, we haven't," she interrupted neatly. "There wasn't any discussion. You just said no."

  "Thank the Lord!" the other couple both said in unison.

  "That's not a discussion, that's a dictatorship. I want to! I want to see what your job is like, Dodge, and I know you won't take me."

  As she was bundled into his truck as usual, Sonny piped up with, "I couldn't do it anyway, Rissa. I've already gotten the word on that from the big man."

  "Aauugghh! He spoils all of my fun!"

  But she wasn't getting any help from her audience at all. She didn't know what she'd expected, but it wasn't a rousing chorus of, "Good!" at her pronouncement.

  Chapter 10

  Later, when he'd let them into the house and she was heading for the stairs, she lamented, "It's not at all fair to have the three of you ganging up on me like that, you know."

  "Yes, yes, you're very put upon," Dodge agreed in a monotone as he rifled through the mail that had collected on the hall tree in the foyer.

  "Well, it is! Nobody lets me have any fun around here."

  She turned to trudge up the stairs as loudly as she could, only to find that she was suddenly getting her bottom blistered as she climbed.

  Someone was administering crisp swats with each step that she climbed, and he was making no attempt to get past her at all. Instead, he remained right where he wanted – and apparently needed – to be, where her bottom was an easy target for the rest of the trip as she fled as quickly as she could, to what would be their room, shortly.

  As he closed the door, Dodge impaled her with a look. "You, my dear, are in a great deal of trouble."

  "No, I'm not!" She always said it, hoping that some day it was going to aid her cause, but it never seemed to.

  "Yes, you are. You are going to get your little fanny tanned quite a bit more for trying to get Sonny into trouble and for going to him to get a yes to something I've already said no to, long ago."

  As he stripped off his shirt and pants, he advanced on her, and Rissa backed away as far as she could, but, eventually, she ended up with her butt to the wall.

  To her surprise, he simply moved her a few steps over, so that she was in the doorway to the bathroom. Only after he'd removed her top and bra and lifted her hands over her head did she notice that there were two eyehooks there.

  "I used to have a pull up bar there, but when I met you, I knew this set up would get a lot more use than it ever had," he explained. Producing soft leather cuffs, he bound first one wrist well above her head and then the other, rendering her even more completely helpless than she usually felt when he was going to punish her.

  And that was saying something.

  Then he relieved her of the rest of her clothing – her last ounces of defense against him – and did the same thing to her ankles, so that she was, essentially, spread-eagled in the doorway. Then he put a sleep mask over her eyes.

  "Dodge, no!"

  "Oh yes. I think you need to concentrate on your punishment, and not all of the various distractions around the room."

  She was never distracted when he punished her! He spanked entirely too hard for that! Where had he come up with a silly idea like –

  "Ahhh – oooooh – owwwww!"

  Somehow, even his hand – when she was forced to think of nothing else – hurt way more than it had since he first began disciplining her.

  "When I tell you no, you're not to do something, then I don't expect to hear you trying to convince someone else to do it for you, instead."

  "But –"

  The spanking stopped, and she heard and felt his lips right next to her ear as he whispered, "I have a gag, Marissa Jean, but I didn't think I needed to use it. Don't go proving me wrong."r />
  Not another – coherent – word passed her lips, although she started bawling immediately, long before she usually would have. She wasn't used to this position – he was usually right next to her, even when he was using the belt. And she wasn't used to being punished while blind, and those things combined to make her feel much more vulnerable than she usually did.

  Not that he let her tears deter him in the least. He was made of sterner stuff than that.

  Much sterner, as she was soon to find out.

  He had her fairly dancing to the tune his palm beat out on her vulnerable behind, although he didn't neglect the sensitive backs of her thighs, any, either. Equal time was spent in each area as she began to sing her unhappiness to him with long choruses of moans and groans and the occasional high-pitched scream.

  At first, when he had begun to spank her at his house, she worried about his neighbors hearing her. He had allayed those fears by whispering to her as he took her that he had bought the plot where the house stood, then all of the other available plots around it, until he owned the entire peninsula on which his house sat. On top of that, he had anticipated someone just like her in his future, eventually, so, when he had the house renovated, he had it very thoroughly soundproofed, with extra concentration on his bedroom.

  It had gotten him some strange looks from the construction guys, but they had done exactly as he'd said.

  Pretty much everyone did, eventually.

  So Rissa knew that there was no hope for any kind of rescue. She was at his mercy.

  And she already knew he didn't believe in it, not for her in a situation like this, anyway, of her own doing, as he reminded her when he reached for the second implement he'd garnered for this occasion.

  It had been, at one time, a mirror. But he had removed the glass. As it stood, it was a big oval of solid mahogany, which he had polished to a fine sheen.