by Sylvia Ryan
Grace closed her eyes tight. “Luke…”
“So I asked myself, why would such a smart, strong woman have such poor judgment regarding men. And then it hits me. You want—no, you need—someone more aggressive than you. Someone who’ll put you through the paces and not hold back. Someone who won’t treat you like a delicate china doll that might break if they pound their cock into you too hard.” He leaned closer. “Someone whose idea of sex is more than missionary with the lights off,” he growled. “True?”
Silence.
“But there’s a catch. This is the part that gets you into trouble. You don’t want that man to be aggressive with you in any other way. You don’t want him to tell you what to do outside of the bedroom…right? And that, my dear, is how things go terribly wrong for you because it’s very hard to find a man who’s got a completely different personality in the bedroom from the one he carries around with him the rest of the time.
“And I’m betting, you haven’t found that with Sarge, or Van either. Sarge is too controlling outside the bedroom, and Van isn’t alpha enough in the bedroom—am I right? Neither guy blows you away.”
Grace’s eyes were fixed on him, but they weren’t seeing him anymore. They were vacant. She was inside her own head. He saw her mind working, synapses firing, searching her experiences, her memories. Moment after moment passed, and it seemed like an eternity before she finally broke her stare and took a slow breath.
“You’re right,” she mumbled. “You are absolutely right. I never realized until you said it out loud.” She shook her head. “That’s it.” The tone of her voice was sheer incredulity. “That’s why I’m drawn to bad boys. I’m trying to find someone who looks like they might be man enough for me, and only the bad ones look the part. Ho–ly shit.”
She turned away from him and sat silent for a minute.
“For me, too sweet or too romantic is kind of wussy,” she murmured. “It gets old fast. I don’t want to be stuck having boregasms for the rest of my life.” She laughed softly. “And too many aggressive qualities outside of the bedroom push me away. It’s like an insult, an insinuation that I can’t make my own decisions or take care of myself.” She shook her head. “You’re so right.”
Grace visibly slumped. “Oh…that means that neither Sarge nor Van is totally right for me.”
“Probably not, but you knew that already.”
“I have feelings for them, you know.”
“I know, ladybug.”
Her eyes swirled with disappointment and confusion during the long, long silence that followed.
The night matured around them, growing darker and revealing the curves of the moon and other heavenly bodies against the blank of empty space. At least an hour had passed before she spoke again.
“And you think you can provide all that?” It was a direct challenge if he’d ever heard one.
“Oh, Ladybug, I know I can.”
Grace scorched him with a look so seductive, so perfectly wicked, it left no room for misunderstanding. “Show me.”
Luke chuckled. “Well there’s the first thing you’re going to have to give up control over. I don’t perform on demand, and I decide the where and when of it.”
Then, as if a switch flipped, Grace’s self-protective coping skills returned. “Sounds fascinating. You be sure to let me know when you’ve started your seduction so I can recognize it. Wouldn’t want to miss it completely.”
“You’re going to be very sorry you said that, ladybug,” Luke said and then stood, offering her a hand, and then pulling her to her feet.
Grace pushed him away playfully. “Whatever.”
The lights were out in the shelter when they made their way carefully down the stairs in the vast, overwhelming darkness. Luke silently made his way to the air mattresses. He assumed that Grace went toward the bed. He wondered if Sarge would be awake and waiting to talk to her, but after he got settled, the shelter was completely silent.
He woke early the next morning and opened his eyes to the usual gray and dingy haven. He searched the bed for Grace, and found Sarge laying there with his eyes open. Luke turned to see what Sarge was staring at, and found Grace sitting, sleeping in a chair at the dinette table. Her head lay on top of her folded arms, cushioning her face from the hard surface.
“She’s stubborn,” Luke murmured.
“Yeah.”
“So are you.”
There was a beat of silence before Sarge answered. “Yeah.”
“She’s out of clothes. We need to plan a supply run.”
“You goin’ to take her on your own?”
“I think so. I also think this is your opportunity to show her you’re not a total asshole.”
Sarge chuckled. “That bad?”
“Uh, yeah, dumbass. I swear, you’re like a fucking caveman sometimes.”
“Caveman’s okay when you’re not looking for anything serious.”
“Yeah? Well this isn’t that, and you know it. She loves you. Van, too, I think, so you better start considering some give and take. Trust me, it’ll work better.”
“And you? Where’s your place within these impossible dynamics?”
“Right now, I’m wishing I was you. She won’t be mad at you forever. You’ve got her in the palm of your hand. Be careful not to crush her.”
The feel of the shelter changed when Grace and Van woke up a few minutes later. What ensued was a silent battle. The air flooded with emotionally charged missiles that silently attacked and clashed against everybody, leaving the room with a combative atmosphere.
After breakfast, Sarge moved the dinette table so that it was directly under one of the skylights and then brought a map out and spread it on the table. It was hand drawn, and covered about a four-block area around the house, identifying all the businesses along the main streets.
Luke got closer, and motioned for Grace to come. The three of them examined the map in silence. Then Sarge put his finger on it. “That seems like it’s your closest option.”
After that, Sarge sat listening to Luke and Grace as they discussed their route, what they would do if they got separated or if one of them got hurt, and other details.
By the time the sun went down, they were more than prepared. Grace put on Van’s flak jacket. Even after snugging up the Velcro strap, it was still way too big for her. Then she left the shelter without a word to Sarge or Van. Luke followed behind her.
“It’ll be fine,” he said to the worried-looking men standing at the bottom of the stairs, before stepping through the cubbyhole and replacing the wall behind him.
With backpacks on, Grace and Luke walked with their pistols in hand, away from the lake and the street where they’d been pinned down. They zigzagged over streets and through backyards until they got to a main road. It was lined with small businesses in strip malls, and the same big-name drugstores, fast food restaurants and gas stations that seemed to occupy every intersection in America.
“Can we hit the drugstore on the way back?” she asked Luke.
“Let’s go now since we’re right here.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Grace and Luke walked through shattered glass to enter the drugstore. Luke motioned her ahead while he stayed toward the front of the store. Grace ran back quickly toward the pharmacy and was back in less than a couple minutes. She didn’t volunteer what they’d gone there for, and he didn’t ask. “Okay, let’s go,” she said without slowing her stride toward the front of the store.
Luke took point as they exited and led Grace to the consignment shop about a block down.
“It has a metal gate over the front of it. Dammit!” Grace said, as they arrived at the front door.
“It’s okay. Follow me.” Luke continued past the used clothing shop and through the shattered door of the Radio Shack next door. He walked all the way to the back of the store and entered the employee bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind them.
&nb
sp; “Here, shine the light for me.” He handed Grace the flashlight and pointed to a spot between the toilet and the sink. He pulled a crowbar from his backpack and swung it a few times at the drywall that was the common wall to the adjacent shop next door.
Moments later they were squeezing through the two-by-four studs and the copper plumbing into the bathroom of the clothing store.
“It’s all yours, ladybug,” he said with an overdramatic wave toward all the clothes in the shop. Grace took the flashlight with her. He stayed behind to move some items in front of the bathroom door as an extra barrier between stores as she rifled through jeans, T-shirts, and hoodies. Within ten minutes, both backpacks were stuffed full.
“Done?” he asked her.
“Yep. Let’s go.”
“We’re not leaving yet,” Luke said, advancing toward her, invading her personal space.
A nervous laugh twittered out of her mouth. “You’re serious? Luke, I have fun flirting, but we’ve talked about this.”
“No. You’ve talked about it, and I listened. Now, I’m talking.” He paused. “So tell me, Grace, are you ready to get what you really need?”
Grace stood there, a silent black shadow in the darkness.
“Well, ladybug?” he growled as he took a step closer to her.
He felt the heat coming off of her body and sensed that his nearness and seriousness made her flustered.
She cleared her throat. “What did you have in mind?”
“Don’t play with me, Grace. Either you want this, or you don’t.” He took another step closer to her and their bodies skimmed against one another. Despite the darkness, he was close enough to make out the expression on her face. She was frozen in place, and uncertainty played over her features.
“Well, I guess I was wrong then,” Luke said when she failed to answer him. “Come on, let’s go home.” He smiled at her and picked up the backpacks.
“No!” she blurted out. “I’m ready.”
Chapter 18
Grace watched Luke drop the backpacks, and then his face hardened. “Take your clothes off, Grace.”
She hesitated. “It’s not safe here.”
“I locked the bathroom door in Radio Shack before we went through the wall and put another barrier up in this store while you were shopping. Nobody’s going to sneak up on us, and nobody can see us from outside the store.” His eyes flared at her. “Now, Grace.”
Grace took off each item of her clothing slowly while Luke watched. His eyes roamed every inch of her body, loitering at the downy triangle between her legs. The corner of his mouth quirked up.
“Yes. Good girl. Come to me.”
Grace took two steps forward, placing her within his reach. Luke kneeled in front of her and tied a scarf around an ankle.
“Wha—”
“Shhh. If you’re not silent, you’ll be punished,” he chastised as he tied another scarf around the opposite ankle. “And…”—his eyes glittered at her—“you’re not allowed to orgasm until I say it’s okay.”
With those words, Grace’s juices gathered and pooled inside her cunt.
Luke tugged at the scarves tied to her ankles and then stood. “Give me your hands.” He tied scarves to each wrist.
Grace’s heart was thumping hard, rushing blood to her cheeks. She could feel them flushing, getting hotter. She was breathing rapidly, gulping in short pants of air as she stood there, obediently allowing her wrists to be tied.
Luke grabbed the scarves at Grace’s wrists and gathered them in one hand, pulling them tight behind her back. Her chest thrust out toward him with each heaving gasp of breath. He leaned in and softly bit a nipple. He ran his tongue across the tip as his teeth slowly increased the pressure of the bite. She would have faint marks on her breasts tomorrow. Luke’s marks. Goose bumps raised on her arms. The thought electrified her. When his mouth enclosed her nipple, he suctioned the bud excruciatingly hard. She felt tossed around in a wild blend of sexual arousal and exquisite pain.
Grace flung her head back. “Fuck,” she cried.
“Yes, we’ll do that, too. When I’m ready. And this is your first and last warning about being silent,” Luke said before switching nipples and giving the same treatment on the other side. His mouth stopped way too soon, in her opinion.
“Come here, ladybug, and lean yourself over the back of this chair.” Grace stared at the recliner settled like an old worn giant outside a curtained dressing room. When she leaned over the back of it, Luke picked her feet off the floor so that the top of the chair rested right into the crease of her hips. She could place her palms on the seat of the chair, but her feet were dangling free several inches off the floor.
“Don’t move.” Luke trailed the scarves to the four corners and tied them to the feet of the chair. Her bare bottom perched precariously in the air.
“Luke—”
He spanked a globe of her ass. “Shh.”
“What th—”
He spanked her in the same spot again. “You have to be quiet. We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves, do we?”
Grace shook her head.
“Have you ever used a safe word before?”
She must have looked as apprehensive as she felt, because he placed a reassuring hand on her back and caressed softly.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you, but you’ll have one anyway in case you get scared or uncomfortable in your restraints. If you want me to stop at any time, just say ‘red’ and I’ll stop. Got it?”
She nodded.
He walked two full circles around the chair, admiring her as if he’d created a masterpiece. He traced a finger on her skin here and there unexpectedly as he stalked her. Her body automatically flinched at every searing stroke.
Luke stepped onto the seat of the chair and lined his zipper up with her nose. His cock strained inside his pants.
Grace didn’t know if it was because the top half of her was tilted downward or because of the spanking, but her heart raced furiously in her chest as she watched Luke’s hand find the button of his jeans and then the tab to his zipper. She watched him pull the zipper slowly down until his cock jumped free. With his thumb, he guided its tip to rest on her lips. She felt the hot smoothness of him. Felt the warm drop of pre-cum he wiped there.
“Suck me.” He parted her lips with the smooth flesh of the tip, and her mouth opened at his command.
“Good girl,” he purred. “Look at you, so happy to suck me. You like having my cock in your mouth.”
Grace moaned as he slid in and out, and another smack landed soundly on her ass because of the sound she’d made. In, out, repeat. Over and over again, so slowly, so methodically, she rolled her tongue over and around the smooth mushroomed crown of his dick. He thrust into her then, penetrating her mouth as far as it would go. She relaxed her throat, trying to accommodate the penetration. She relished the way he was using her, taking what he wanted, gagging her with his cock until tears streamed down her face.
“That’s good, ladybug, very good.” Luke took a handful of Grace’s short hair and yanked her head away, separating her mouth from his shaft. He tilted her gaze up to him.
Grace could feel the saliva from sucking his dick on her lips as his hot eyes searched her face. “Do you want to say your safe word, Grace?”
Grace was more sexually excited than she’d ever been in her whole life. She was not going to utter a word.
“I didn’t think so. You have so much more in you,” he drawled into her ear.
Luke stepped off the seat of the recliner then pulled the lever on the side to recline the chair. Grace’s feet met the floor, and the scarves at her wrists pulled her arms tight in front of her.
“Look at you, all spread out, bending over for me.” He licked a long trail up the back of one leg and over the round of her ass. “Showing me everything you’ve got to offer.”
Luke penetrated Grace’s pussy with his fingers and moved them i
nside of her. “Listen,” he whispered. “Listen to how wet you are. You’re slurping in my fingers.” The unmistakable wet kissing sound that came from her pussy filled the room as he moved his fingers, and then abruptly, he pulled them out.
Grace moaned, a tiny breathy sound, and it was met with a firm slap to her ass again.
“Shh. Bad girl.” Luke penetrated her ass with his fingers so unexpectedly, Grace squealed in surprise. He delivered another strike to her bottom while his fingers worked her anus. His tongue glanced over her clit as he spanked her ass at the same time. She gasped.
“I didn’t say anything!” she wailed as he spanked her again and concentrated his attention on her cunt while still working her asshole.
What he did was an assault on her senses. It was too much. Too much.
Then, as if by lightning strike, Grace gave in. She gave in to whatever he wanted to do with her body. Gave in to the blissful space in her head that didn’t have to make decisions, that didn’t have to analyze what she was doing or how she was feeling about it. None of those things mattered because it was entirely out of her control.
The rhythm of the pain and pleasure he gave her brought her to a new plane of sheer sensation. She was his clay to do with as he pleased, and she would allow herself to be molded because she had no other options. It was a liberating, freeing experience, the likes of which she’d never had before.
Grace was in a zone. Her ears buzzed, and Luke seemed far away. The spankings didn’t hurt anymore, and her body was so stimulated, so aroused by everything, and not just his hands and mouth, but by the entire situation, everything—the restraints, his control over her pleasure, her pain, over the sounds that escaped her lips.
She was going to explode.
“Come, ladybug. Come on my face, baby.”
And she did. The orgasm shattered her until she wasn’t even herself anymore. She was pure ecstasy. Every cell in her body cried out in pleasure.
