by Julia Sykes
I’m fine, I wanted to say. I wanted to push it away, ignore it. If I buried it deeply enough, I could overcome it. My grief would fade.
But that was wrong. The loss of my father still crippled me, tormenting me in my sleep when my guard was down. I had never learned to deal with it because I had always buried it.
“No,” I whispered the admission. “I’m not okay.”
His fingers pressed into my flesh where he still held me down, giving me a little reassuring squeeze. “Tell me about it.”
He wasn’t asking. And I didn’t even think about hesitating.
“My dad,” I said softly. “I was dreaming about him.”
Reed’s expression was soft and full of understanding. “He was killed in the line of duty, right?”
I swallowed and nodded. “He was shot on a drugs raid. I was seventeen.”
“Did they catch the man who did it?”
“Yes. He’s in prison.”
Reed’s lips twisted in a mirror of my own pain. “But it doesn’t help, does it? Punishing the people who take the ones we love doesn’t bring them back.”
Empathy. I realized Reed had lost someone to violence, too. My hand found his, and I covered his fist with my palm. “No. It doesn’t.”
“You have these dreams often.” Again, it wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” The temptation to lie, to deflect, was absent. No one ever encouraged me to share my grief. Doing so was a relief. And doing so with Reed felt as natural as breathing. He had made it clear that he would accept nothing less than complete honesty from me, and sharing these hard truths with him was incredibly freeing, if painful. The pain was freedom. Freedom to feel, freedom to be vulnerable.
The first sob was cleansing. Strong arms closed around me, and Reed drew my body up against his. He held me as I cried, and I reveled in the warm, solid strength of him. He wanted this from me. He wanted it for me. My tears purged the grief from my soul, siphoning some of it off.
When my crying slowed and I could finally breathe normally, I looked up into Reed’s kind eyes. “You lost someone, too.”
He nodded, and the lines of his face tightened. “My mother. I was fourteen.”
“Will it always hurt like this?”
His expression softened again. “The ache in your heart will always be there, because you’ll never forget the love you had for your father. That part of your heart belonged to him, and it always will. But if you accept it, if you acknowledge that a piece of you will always be his even though he’s gone, you can learn to live with it. You can heal the ragged edges around the hole in your heart.” He cupped my cheek, and his thumb gently brushed away the wetness there. “Pain can be good, Katie. You don’t have to fight it. Accepting it can bring release.”
The way his eyes darkened let me know that he wasn’t talking about just emotional pain anymore. “Is that why you’re into BDSM? I didn’t think Doms took pain.”
His lips quirked up at the corners; he was evidently pleased that I had followed his line of thinking. “I don’t. I find my release in control. But more importantly, I find it in trust. A submissive has to have complete trust in me for her to allow me to give her pain.” He paused. “Do you trust me, Katie?”
Yearning rose up in me. “I trust you. And I want that.” Yes, I wanted Reed. And I wanted the pain he could give me. I longed to find the release he promised. Desire licked between my thighs at the idea of him dominating my body, allowing me to give in to my darkest fantasies.
Fear of what wanting pain with sex meant tickled at the edges of my mind, but all my focus was honed on Reed. Wrong, a little voice warned. I shouldn’t be with Reed. But the entirety of the rest of my being burned for him, in a way that was so much more than physical desire. Although that was quite potent enough.
I became acutely aware of everywhere his skin touched mine. My side was pressed against his chest, and his arms surrounded me. His muscles coiled, tightening around me, trapping me. My head dropped back, and I went soft in his hold. His triumphant grin gleamed through the darkness, and his hand slid up my back to grip my nape. I shuddered at the dominant touch, and the sparse light in the room gathered in his eyes, flashing across the inky surface like fireworks across the night sky.
His lips were still curved up with his pleasure when they descended on mine. I opened for him, and his mouth claimed me. His kiss was every bit as heady as I remembered. My mind had tried to push away memories of the pleasure of it. If I could deny how good his touch upon me felt, I could resist him. But Reed demanded honesty, and he had ripped away my ability to lie even to myself. I moaned up into him, releasing my lust just as I had released my grief in his arms. The shot of freedom was almost as intoxicating as his lips moving against mine.
Keeping one hand cradling the back of my neck, his other found the top button of my pajamas. It suddenly struck me that they were bright pink and patterned with cartoon dogs and cats. I burned with embarrassment, but Reed didn’t seem to mind. He deftly slid the button free and slipped inside the soft fabric. The sensation of his calloused fingertips against my smooth skin sent a shiver racing up my spine. There was nothing tentative about his touch, no silent hesitation waiting for my permission. His fingers explored the expanse of creamy flesh as though he had every right.
My nipples pebbled, aching for him. He obliged my need. Pain bloomed as he pinched one between his thumb and forefinger. He caught my little cry on his tongue, consuming it. Mercilessly, he twisted, pulling and pinching. I tried to move away from him, but I was caught between his hand on my neck and his mouth upon mine. His teeth sank into my lower lip, reinforcing my utter helplessness to resist him. His grip shifted to torture my other nipple. I shuddered and surrendered to the pain, acknowledging it rather than fighting or denying it.
With my acceptance, the pain became something more, something interesting. It didn’t stop hurting, but the burning in my breast awoke an answering burn in my belly. Pleasure bloomed along with my submission, weaving through the pain in an exquisite symphony of sensation. I squirmed in Reed’s lap, seeking stimulation against my throbbing clit. He hardened beneath me in response, and I let out a little gasp at the size of him. Even as I registered trepidation at the idea of taking a man so large, my inner walls contracted, longing to be filled. A strange whine eased up my throat as carnal need overtook my mind.
Abruptly, Reed moved my body. The world spun around me, and then I found myself lying flat on my back. He grasped my wrists and drew them up over my head. His hands found mine, and his thumbs pressed against my palms, forcing them to unfurl. Then his touch shifted, urging my fingers to close to fists. They wrapped around something cool and smooth: one of the wooden slats on my headboard.
His lips left mine to utter one low word in my ear. “Stay.”
His weight lifted from me, and my eyes widened when he turned to leave the room. I almost asked him where he was going, but I kept the question pressed between my lips. He wouldn’t have told me to stay in this position if he wasn’t coming back. Surely not. The smirk he shot back at me just before he disappeared through my open door reassured me that he would return. And that he had something wicked planned for me.
My fingers trembled, and I gripped the bed tighter to still them.
Reed returned seconds later, and I sucked in a breath when his body created a hulking silhouette against the light from the window. Although he was the one whose skin was exposed, he radiated more authority than he did in his sharp suit, and I felt naked and vulnerable under his dark stare.
He closed the distance between us slowly, wrapping something through his fist as he approached. His thin black tie dangled from his other hand. In the sensual darkness, it became something more menacing than a simple article of clothing. And the way Reed prowled toward me only added to the sense of danger.
Despite the little zing of fear elicited by the perceived threat, I remained where he had positioned me. My decision not to act, the knowledge that I was willingly sacrificin
g my body, just got me hotter for him.
His weight settled over me again, and I groaned at the sensation of being pinned by him. His cocky laugh tickled across my neck. Silken fabric looped over my wrists. When it tightened around them, my sex squeezed in response. My breath began to come in little pants as I registered the fact that I was restrained, powerless to resist whatever Reed wanted to do to me. My arousal was a sweet pain. Desperation overtook me, and I arched up against him. His chuckle vibrated through his lips when he pressed them against my collarbone. His tongue traced a hot line down to the hollow between my breasts as his fingers found the second button to my pajama top. I no longer cared that the pattern on them might seem juvenile; all I cared about was Reed taking them off, baring my body to him. I craved to feel his skin against mine.
The soft material of my shirt teased across my nipples as he slowly parted the fabric, sliding it over my breasts. The cool air that swept over my exposed skin was quickly chased away by his heat. His fingers traced a circular pattern around my areolae, and the dark pools of his eyes deepened with hunger as he watched my nipples tighten. He lowered his head and brushed a feather-light kiss over each of them, teasing me.
“Beautiful,” he breathed just before his teeth closed around one of the hardened buds. I cried out, but my body arched up into the pain rather than pulling away. He released me in reward, and his tongue eased the lingering sting of his bite. Pleasure rolled through me, shooting from my nipple in a hot line that ran straight to my clit.
I rocked my hips up against him, and my pleasure increased when I rubbed against his hard cock.
“Please, Reed,” I whispered.
His lips took on a cruelly amused twist, and his eyes sparkled. “Please, what? Tell me what you want, Katie.” His hips rotated, grinding his cock directly against my clit.
I gasped out my need. “I want…” I trailed off, biting my lip. Instead of saying something embarrassing, I rubbed up against him again.
He moved away from me, settling back on heels. His knees pressed my thighs apart, spreading me wide.
“You want more pain,” he told me coolly. “I’ll give it to you, Katie. I’ll teach you to beg me to fuck you without hesitation.”
My protest stuck in my throat. Even as instinct told me to fight his promise of pain, my body burned for it. He was right; I wasn’t ready to beg him to fuck me. I had never said anything so crass in bed. Sex with George had been a rather silent, rote affair. I had never wanted to beg anyone to fuck me. Reed was about to change that.
His hands fisted in my pajama pants, jerking them down and exposing me with one powerful move of his arms. It felt as though he was stripping away more than my clothes. He was stripping away the last barriers between us, the last of my defenses.
He watched me carefully as he began to uncoil the object that was still wrapped around his fist. Silver flashed, and I recognized his belt buckle. By the time he held the length of black leather doubled over in his hand, my breath came in short, shallow gasps.
“Reed…” My voice wavered as uncertainty coiled within my gut.
White hot pain exploded across my sensitive inner thigh, and I shrieked in shock.
“You will address me as ‘Sir,’” he ordered calmly. “If you want me to stop, say ‘red.’ Otherwise, this won’t end until you beg me to fuck you. ‘No’ and ‘stop’ aren’t safe words.”
My whimper was a mixture of fear and desire. He took it as an invitation to continue. His belt slapped me again, mirroring the first hit. The pain was hot, stinging. It pulsed across my skin until it found my sex, where it turned to an erotic throb. My core clenched at the third hit, even as my body tried to jerk away from him. But his knees held me open for his torment, and his tie kept my hands securely restrained. The knowledge of my helplessness only increased my desire for him.
“Please!” I shouted out at the fourth blow. “Please. F-fuck me.” I stumbled over the word.
“Not good enough.” His voice was merciless, and the belt came down again.
“Please fuck me, Reed!” I didn’t hesitate this time.
Hot pain lashed me. “Try again.”
“Please, Sir,” I gasped, realizing what he wanted. “Please fuck me.” All embarrassment or insecurity had been melted by the heat of his belt against my sensitive thighs, leaving nothing but need and lust behind. Just as Reed had promised, pain had brought me release. Now I needed a different sort of release. “Please fuck me, Sir.” My hips lifted toward him, silently begging.
“Come for me first.” As soon as he uttered the words, he brought the belt down directly on my swollen clit. Sensation exploded across the tiny bundle of nerves. I wasn’t sure if it was pleasure or pain. They were one in the same, a purely carnal feeling that ripped through me with blinding force. My sharp cry barely registered in my ears.
His fingers brushed against the abused bud, and I twisted against my bonds as sensation flooded me mercilessly. Was this an orgasm? I had thought I had found pleasure with my vibrator, but that was nothing compared to this bliss.
It wasn’t until I was quivering and utterly spent that his touch left me. I heard the rustling of fabric, and the way the mattress shifted let me know he was removing his boxers. I blinked against the white light that flooded my vision, yearning to see him. His strong form coalesced in the darkness just as he sheathed himself in a condom. Then his huge cock was at my entrance. I nearly protested. No way would he fit. But somehow, there was still a burn within me, a deeper need that hadn’t been fulfilled by the pleasure he had just given me. I needed him.
His eyes met mine, trapping me in his bottomless gaze. Two fluttering heartbeats passed, and then he drove into me in one thrust. The double-edged sword of pain/pleasure impaled me once again as he stretched me ruthlessly. He stilled, holding himself deep within me.
“Fuck., you’re tight.” He drew in sharp breaths through his teeth as he restrained himself from fucking me with the ferocity he clearly desired. My tightness was causing him his own sweet pain. His hands cupped my face, his thumbs hooking below my jaw to tilt my head back. My lips parted, and his tongue invaded my mouth, stroking against mine as his cock would rub against my inner walls. Arousal caused me to clench around him, and he hissed out his own pleasure. I relaxed, my body welcoming him, and he began to move within me. He started slowly so as not to damage me, but his pace increased as I softened to accommodate him.
The head of his cock found a sweet spot inside me, and my eyes flew wide as I cried out in shocked pleasure. He altered the angle of his hips and made contact with it again. He groaned as my muscles fluttered around him.
“Again, Katie. Come for me.” He fucked me in earnest, rubbing against my g-spot. I flew apart with a sharp scream. He caught it on his lips, and he groaned his own orgasm into my mouth. Our pleasure mingled, amplifying our bliss as we found completion in one another. It was the most intimate thing I had ever experienced. And I had found it through complete surrender.
When Reed finally withdrew from me, I felt almost delirious, drunk on the high he had given me. He released my wrists and planted gentle kisses on the grooves left in my skin by his tie. He eased down on the mattress beside me, and my body curled around his. Before I realized what was happening, I fell asleep in his arms.
Chapter 9
“Shit. Katie, wake up. We’re going to be late.”
I groaned my protest. I hated waking up early. And it had to be early, because I felt like I was being ripped out of the deepest sleep. The mattress shifted as someone rolled away from me.
“I’m getting a shower. You’d better be up by the time I’m out. You have five more minutes, Sleeping Beauty.” A whisper-soft kiss brushed against my forehead.
Wait. What?
My eyes fluttered open just in time to see Reed’s perfectly sculpted ass before he shut the bathroom door.
Holy. Shit.
Reed was naked. And he had just gotten out of my bed. Where we had slept together. After sleeping togethe
r.
This time, my groan was one of dread. I pulled my covers up over my head, as though I could hide from what I had done. I had sex with a coworker. I had sex with my partner.
No, that wasn’t right. Reed had fucked me. After I begged him to. After he had tied me down and whipped me with his belt. My sex burned as hot as my cheeks at the memory. I pressed my thighs together, and a little twinge of pain reminded me of how sweet the pain he had given me had been.
How could I possibly be anywhere near him without wanting him? Would I fall to my knees in the middle of the office every time he turned that dark stare on me? He had stripped me bare, made me vulnerable. And I had loved every delicious second of my submission to him. It had been so much more than just a physical connection. I had cried in his arms before he brought me pleasure.
This can’t happen. I couldn’t be with Reed. It wasn’t appropriate. It wasn’t professional.
Oh, god, how was I going to face Dex? And worse, Frank? I shuddered to think what would happen to Reed if my father figure found out I had slept with him. Best case scenario, he would be shipped back to New York. I didn’t even want to contemplate the worst case scenario. It probably involved a lot of pain for Reed.
“Time’s up.” I registered the amusement in his voice just before the comforter was ripped away from me, leaving my naked body exposed. With a surprised squeak, I covered myself as best I could with my hands.
Reed grinned down at me. He was wearing nothing but a towel slung low on his hips, and it tented with his growing erection. “You’re awfully shy this morning,” he remarked with amusement.
Frantically, I searched for something to hide my nakedness from his dancing eyes. I found my crumpled pajama top and hastily draped it over my front. Reed’s grin widened, as though he found my efforts immensely funny. I tore my gaze from his mocking one and scrambled off the bed, making my way to the bathroom.
