Maybe it was time he broke down a few of his own. Savi had placed her trust in him and he'd never gone beyond her hard limits, although she'd allowed him to remove those limits, one by one, faster than any bottom he'd ever worked with. She'd faced her fears head on.
He wanted to be with her—forever. How could he do that if he kept a part of himself hidden from her? He needed to trust her first.
So what the fuck was he going to do to fix that?
"Damián?"
He'd thought she was sleeping. "Yes, querida?"
"I feel strange."
I'll bet.
"Strange, how?" He hoped she wasn't dropping. For her, having someone gift her with an orgasm had to be as intense as any impact session.
"I don't know. Just different."
"Different good or different bad?" He smiled. This sounded like a conversation he might have with Marisol or Rosa's kids when they were younger. Twenty Questions.
She paused, as if to assess the situation on the ground. "Different good. Very good."
He wanted her to analyze the feeling a bit more, because she seemed to want to talk about it. "What can you compare it to? What does it feel like?"
She placed her hand on his forearm. "It feels…I feel…safe. In your arms, I feel safe, protected, no longer afraid of everything. I haven't felt like that in a very long time."
Damián's heart swelled at her words, and he hugged her closer to himself. "Thank you, mi sueño. I'm going to do all I can to make sure you never feel frightened again."
Savi curled against him and soon her breathing became slower, her weight heavier. She slept.
No fucking way could he let her go. Mierda. What the fuck was he going to do if he couldn't protect her and his baby girl? Those shitheads were still looking for them. How could he eliminate the threat and keep his girls safe?
Damián hadn't felt this helpless in a very long time.
Chapter Eighteen
The next day, Savi found herself back in the same theme room as the night before, but he had placed her in sling this time. Her arms were at ninety-degree angles, hands about the height of her head, restrained at the wrists. Her hands held onto two big rings that the sling was attached to, which connected to chains that bolted the contraption to the ceiling.
Black leather encased her thighs, the slings attached her to the same rings her hands and wrists were connected to. Her legs were spread as wide as they could go without making a wishbone out of her. That he'd wanted to splay her open again surprised her. She'd have thought he'd seen enough.
"What was that thought?"
She sighed. It seemed she couldn't even think without him battering down her fortress walls. Damián got into her face and made her wish she could pull away, but there was nowhere to go.
"Answer me, Savi. Now."
"I just thought you'd seen enough of it already."
"Enough of what?"
"My brand."
He grasped her chin. "Whose brand, chica?"
She sighed. "Yours, Sir. But I still don't understand why you would want to claim something so awful."
"Remember what I said. From now on, it stands for Good Girl."
Those words would forever make her cringe.
He slapped her ass, which was bared to him in the sling. She jumped and sent the contraption swaying.
"If you don't start being my good girl, I'm going to have to plan your first punishment session."
Punish her? She'd upset him. Savi began to shake, enough to make the sling move. Her gaze returned to the row of crops and canes on the wall. Her father beat her when she wasn't a good girl. She blinked, trying to fight back the tears, but they were so much closer to the surface these days. Holding them back was becoming impossible.
"Where are you, Savi?"
He stood in front of her and pulled the nooses again, and she hissed at the pain as her nipples became more engorged, but he brought her back from the abyss.
"With you, Sir."
He tugged on them again and the edges of darkness faded. "Are these too tight?"
"No, they're fine." After last night, she knew enough to postpone their removal as long as she could.
His grin told her he knew exactly what she was doing.
"Well, since we didn't get you there this time with my tongue, I think we're going to have to try some toys."
Not long ago, Damián had tried to give her another orgasm with his mouth, but she couldn't relax her mind enough to allow herself to just feel tonight.
"Maybe even a little impact play. I know how much you enjoy the endorphin release."
Enjoy? She dreaded when he went to the toy bag, but mostly because she didn't know what he'd pull out. She hated surprises. Once again, he'd placed the bag behind her, where she couldn't see.
He stepped around the sling that suspended her to the ceiling, and soon she heard a vibrator buzz on and off. She smelled a whiff of strawberries, and then he pushed a stool up behind her and sat down. He placed his face against her lower back and wrapped his arms around her waist.
She looked down and saw the vibe from the other night in his hand. It looked wet.
"We're going to see if we can overpower that mind of yours so you can get off tonight. I don't want to leave you frustrated."
"I'm not frustrated." Her words sounded breathless when she spoke.
"Well, I am. I need to hear you scream for me again, Savi, as you come."
The vibrator buzzed to life and he lowered it between her legs. How could he even see what he was doing from behind her? The vibe almost seemed to be disembodied, floating. Having him behind her made it almost seem as if she were alone, pleasuring herself.
The head of the vibrator touched the hood of her clit and she jumped. He hadn't fumbled around at all, but homed right in on her pussy's core. He reached up with his free hand and tugged at one of the nooses at the same time as he bobbed the vibe against the hood of her clit, as if knocking on a door.
Pressure built and the next time the vibe touched her, she nearly came out of the sling. "I think your clit wants to come out and play tonight, after all."
The overload of sensations made her jump, whether to get closer to or further away from the vibe, she wasn't sure. She would have set the sling in motion if he hadn't anchored her with his body.
"Someday, that will be my dick knocking, wanting to play with your clit again."
The image of his penis touching her there sent an inexplicable ache through her.
"First, Chico would dip his head inside your sweet pussy." He pushed the tip of the vibe inside her. He'd named the vibrator?
Oh, no! He wasn't talking about the vibe anymore. Her face grew warm as she imagined his penis where the vibe was, just inside her vagina.
She tried to clamp her legs together, but couldn't move.
"Then he'd pull out and stroke your clit some more." The vibe played along the edges of her hood, not touching the most sensitive place on her clit. He left her panting, wanting more.
He bobbed the vibrator against her clit and her head fell back; she could no longer support it. She closed her eyes. When her mind's eye pictured Damián standing in front of her, his erect penis in his hand, bobbing the tip against her clit, a moan escaped. Her eyes flew open.
"I'd bring you to the edge, just like that." And he did.
"Oh, Damián."
"What did you call me?"
"I'm sorry. I mean, Sir."
"Although Chico would like to hear you call out his name."
No effing way was she talking to a vibrator—or Damián's penis. So ridiculous, she almost giggled.
"Come on, tell Chico what you want. Be my good girl now".
As if he'd thrown a cold, wet towel over her, he'd spoken two of the words she'd hated to hear her entire life. No, Savannah's life. Savannah had been Father's good girl. She'd done whatever he wanted, hoping he wouldn't hurt her for disobeying.
She cringed. Savi wanted nothing to do with that name.
>
"That's a good girl, Savannah. You make Father so happy when you touch him that way."
No! She wasn't touching him. Not willingly, anyway. His hand was held firmly over her much smaller one, trapping and forcing her. Wet. She hated to touch his wet pee-pee. She wished he'd hurry and explode so they could finish…
"Where are you, Savi?"
She opened her eyes and gasped. Her hands were restrained in leather cuffs above her head. She wasn't Savannah, touching Father's penis at all.
"I'm hanging from the ceiling in a theme room at your club, Sir."
"Good girl."
She tensed.
"It's going to take your hearing it a lot from me to erase the old tapes in your head."
"I hate them." Her voice sounded like a scared little child's. Savannah's.
"I know, bebé. I'm really not doing this to be sadistic, but those words are used a lot in my community. I want to desensitize you so you won't be triggered every time you hear someone say them at the club."
That made sense. Adam had said it was a compliment to be called that by a Dom, although she hadn't heard him call Karla that. Maybe he just didn't say it to her while Savi was around. He definitely hadn't called Savi that either, not since the first time.
Had he really forgotten that time? Savi suspected he had been trying to get her and Damián together that night. Next day, he'd included Damián in her first restraint session. She was grateful he had, because Savi had come close to bolting from the club at the sound of those words. Damián had protected and comforted her.
"You're right, Sir. I'll try to hear them as something different when you say them, or if I hear them in the great room."
"Good girl." He tugged at one of her nipple nooses and sent an electrical zing to her pussy.
The sound of the vibe invaded her focus again, stroking the cleft between her pussy and the edge of her clit, back and forth. Wetter and wetter. The pressure began to build again.
She licked her lips, which had gone suddenly dry. She fought the urge to fight the restraints, wanting to take the vibe and place it directly against her clit. Chiquita wanted release.
Chiquita? Oh, dear lord, now she'd named her pussy. What next?
"When he knew you were just about to come, Chico would thrust inside Sir's tight pussy." Damián rammed the vibrator far inside her.
"Oh, God!"
He pulled out and thrust inside her again. He reached up and released the tension on one of the nooses and she waited for the pain. Oh, dear lord! Her freed nipple began burning and quickly spread throughout her breast, just as he released the other. The nooses hung on her engorged nipples, and he reached down to stroke her swollen, sensitive clit as he continued to thrust Chico in and out of her pussy.
"Come for Chico, Savita."
"I'm coming!"
"I know you are, bebé. Don't hold anything back."
She bucked against his finger. When he pulled Chico out, she whimpered.
"Tell me what you need, bebé."
"I need you…I mean, Chico…inside me…now."
He rammed the vibe inside her, and she felt the vibration all the way to her cervix, as his finger stroked her clit until she felt her insides explode.
"Yes! Harder!"
Damián's teeth sank into the flesh at the top of her butt and sent her over the edge. "Oh, Chico! Yes! There!"
She sobbed her release, never expecting to get there today after so may false starts. Her emotions rode a wild roller coaster. She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry, but as she came down from the high and felt Damián's arms around her, his lips kissing her lower back and ass, she choked back a sob at how badly she wished it had been Damián inside her, making her come, and not a plastic vibrator.
"That's my good girl. Chico's pretty proud of his slut for coming like that."
Dirty slut.
Savi tensed.
Damián sighed. "Where are you, Savita?"
She couldn't speak.
He released her, stood, and came around the sling to stand in front of her. Cupping her chin, he raised her face toward his, bringing her focus back to him. "What triggered you? Your response seemed more intense even than when I called you 'good girl' earlier."
She shook her head. "Don't make me say it."
"I'm not going to play games. I couldn't have been Chico. Hell, you were screaming his name before you came."
She flushed with embarrassment. She had?
"Tell me what sent you into a tailspin?"
They sat for several minutes in silence. Come on, bebé. Open up to me once more.
"I'm a dirty slut."
Her barely audible words caused him to lean closer, then his eyes opened wider as realization dawned. "That must have been buried deep. It didn't even surface in our clothespin scene."
He stroked her cheek. "You know, bebé, there's nothing dirty about being a slut. It's an honor when a Dom uses the endearment for his special sub."
"You've got to be kidding. How could anyone want to be called something so degrading?" She couldn't let him call her that and enjoy it.
Damián smiled. "We have much more work to do, querida."
Savi looked into his eyes. "More work?" He still wanted to work with her?
"Make arrangements for Angelina or Karla to keep Marisol tomorrow night. You and I are going on a date."
"A date?" She sounded like a frigging parrot, but couldn't help herself.
"Yes, a date." He tweaked her nose.
"I don't think—"
"Exactly. You are not to think. I will plan everything right down to what you're going to wear—and not wear. Because we'll be starting and ending at the club, I'll have a new outfit laid out in the bedroom you used here at Dad's. What size?"
"I've gained weight. I don't think I'm the same size anymore." Most of her clothes had gotten tight, but she hadn't wanted to ask to go shopping. She'd been enough of a financial burden on him already.
"What size were you before then?"
"Zero."
"Zero? What the fuck kind of size is zero?"
Already on edge from being called a slut, she lost control and allowed her temper to boil over. "I was a size zero so men like you wouldn't leer at me, okay? Men pay no attention to women without curves."
He seemed surprised by her outburst, then grinned. "Mamacita, I assure you I noticed—and you have beautiful curves in all the right places." He reached up to tweak her nipple. "In fact, one of the first things I noticed was that your breasts were bigger than when I first saw them at nineteen."
She didn't want him to think she'd done anything else to enlarge her breasts. "I breast-fed."
He continued to tug on both nipples now, making her nipples engorge again, but there was a sadness in his eyes. "I wish I could have been there to watch."
Her body heated when he gave her a smoldering once-over, lingering a little longer before and after on her breasts. He met her gaze again.
She reminded herself to breathe. Time to get this conversation away from her boobs. "I don't think I'm that size anymore, the way you guys keep making me eat." Would he lose interest in her if she got fat?
"And we'll keep feeding you, too. Doms like their girls to have a little flesh on them—otherwise we'll be afraid we'll break them too easily."
She wondered what it would be like if he were her Dom and not her Top.
"Okay, for starters, I'll bring over clothes in Size Two. When you've grown into those, we'll move up to a four. What's your bra size?"
She blushed. Boobs again. "I have plenty of bras."
"What. Is. Your. Bra size?"
She glared at him. "Thirty-two B."
"Done."
"Damián, I'm not a child. I can dress myself."
"Whose body is this?"
"Yours, Sir." She began to shake again.
"Good girl. Now, breathe."
She found that calling her a good girl didn't bother her nearly as much as when he called her a slut.
"There, bebé. How does that feel?"
She moaned. "Wonderful."
Her eyes flew open, and she frowned. How was she supposed to take him? He was a sadist, but never gave her pain beyond her limits. He wasn't repulsed by her background, her body, her shame. He took such good care of her.
Damián reached out and cupped her chin. Staring into his warm, confident, brown eyes, the shaking ceased. "I know it's not easy to let go of the crap muddying up your thinking. It's going to take what I think you call adjustment therapy."
"Behavioral modification."
He grinned. "Call it whatever you want. We're going to do some modifications and make some attitude adjustments."
"So, you're in the business of psychotherapy now?" At least he could practice his without a license. She was in limbo, unable to start the licensing process here in Colorado, which would just bring the hounds of hell after her again.
When would she ever get her life back on track?
* * *
Damián thought the timing couldn't be worse, but he'd made a promise years ago to never miss a Colorado funeral with the Patriot Guard Riders if he was home. Fallen heroes deserved nothing less. He ran his finger under his leather wristband. He hoped Sergeant Miller had received a hero's welcome on his final trip home.
If Damián had been keeping up with the email alerts, he wouldn't have been blindsided by this one early this morning. Afghanistan. Ambush. Another Marine dead.
To keep his mind off the funeral and what lay ahead, he had gone to the mall and purchased the outfit he wanted Savi to wear for their date tonight. Might have to go out a little later than planned, but she'd understood. He should make it back in time for their date, then he'd work on redirecting some of the negative messages that continued to clutter up her head. He'd sure as hell have to work on slut, because she'd hear that a lot if she spent any time around the club's great room or any public scenes there.
"Sure you don't want me to get you some lunch before you leave?"
Nobody's Perfect Page 36
