Push (Bound #1)

by Olivia R. Keane

  “She didn’t look like she was dressed for conversation.”

  Declan looked both angry and apprehensive. “I didn’t even notice. I threw her out and rushed over here.”

  Charlie crossed her arms over her chest. “Declan, I don’t know if this will work. I don’t fit in your world.”

  “You’re wrong, Charlotte. I am going to leave you be for a bit, but we will talk about this.”

  “Talk about what? That I am just another kink in your chain? Nah, I’m good.” Charlie moved past him and felt his hand grip her arm, spinning her back to him.

  “We will talk about this,” he growled, pulling Charlie in and kissing her forcefully on the lips. Charlie heard a soft moan in her throat and tried to swallow it down. Damn stupid body. Declan pulled away, releasing her and left without looking back.

  ***

  Charlie sat in her car in the parking lot of Ciatti’s’s waiting on her sister. She’d spent the past two days miserable and bitchy, and there was only one cure for it—Italian food. Her phone beeped that annoying tone letting her know it was a text from Declan. Somehow, even though she’d hurled it against the passenger door earlier, it managed to survive the assault. She reached quickly across the console to retrieve it from the floor.

  Declan: I need to see you. Tonight.

  Charlie: I can’t. I need some space.

  She fiddled with the makeup mirror while she awaited his response. It didn’t take long.

  Declan: Don’t run away from me.

  Is he worried I will end this or just worried that I won’t give him the opportunity to explain things?

  Charlie: I’m not. You have no idea what this feels like. You have no clue.

  ***

  Mikki and Charlie devoured the Antipasto between sips of Moscato as they waited for the main course. For Charlie it was a plateful of comfort food in the form of handmade ravioli that only Ciatti’s could provide.

  When Charlie took a break from noshing on the olives, prosciutto, and cheese, she asked Mikki about the wedding. “How’s the planning going? Did you decide on a cake yet?”

  Aaron had been great about participating in the planning until the cake fiasco. After that, he decided to leave the rest of the decision making to Mikki. Charlie, as the maid of honor, tried to make sure her big sis stayed on task, but so far no luck on the cake selection. Of course, the cake wasn’t the only thing that stressed her out.

  “I went with a vanilla clove cake with an orange marmalade filling, Grand Marnier frosting, and frosted cranberries.”

  “Finally!”

  “What?”

  “Took you long enough. I suggested that one to you a week ago!”

  Charlie eyeballed the steaming plate of pasta as the server placed it front of her. As she took her first bite, her senses overwhelmed her with the flavors of pumpkin, cinnamon, sage, and brown butter. Heaven in a pasta pillow. I can replace sex with food, can’t I?

  “So, are we going to talk about Declan’s houseguest?”

  “No,” Charlie quickly replied.

  “You can’t be mad about girls he’s slept with before you. That’s not fair. Do you think he’s still involved with her?”

  Pumpkin ravioli in brown butter sage sauce could make Charlie push Declan out of her mind, but not forever.

  “I don’t think so. It’s not why I am mad.” She glared at Mikki. “Well, yes, okay, it bothers me that he’s been with her. I mean, I know it shouldn’t because neither one of us were virgins when this whole thing started.” Charlie put her fork down and picked up her wine glass. I can deal with it, but not when it’s thrown in my face. And it was.” She downed the rest of her glass before she continued. “It’s just now I have to deal with psychotic ex-girlfriends.”

  “All right, so I have a question,” Mikki said. Charlie shook her head, preparing for the worst. “Is she a redhead?”

  “Yes! Redheads always freak me the fuck out!”

  She glanced across the table to see Mikki’s face desperately trying to hold in her hysteria. Charlie motioned for her to let it out, and the two of them broke into laughter.

  ***

  Charlie felt Declan there before she saw him. After returning from her dinner with Mikki, she found him sitting, waiting for her on the steps of the porch.

  “You shouldn’t be here. I’m still angry.” Her words traveled in soft whisper. One public scene per week was her new rule.

  “I just can’t stay away. Despite everything you had to go through and despite how you may feel, I know we need to spend time together tonight.”

  “I just don’t know. I don’t think I can do this any longer.”

  “Charlotte, you need to give us a chance. You keep running, and I unintentionally keep giving you reasons to flee.”

  Charlie stared into his eyes for a few moments. Nothing had changed. He hadn’t changed. He was still the man she wanted. He hadn’t cheated on her, and he had never made it a secret that he had been with other women before her. He truly seemed to want to work things out.

  “I had planned on taking you somewhere tonight, somewhere we could have a scene.” Declan glanced at his watch. “We missed the reservation, but I still think we need to have a session. I want to play a game with you. I think it will help us get past this, and dissolve some of your reasoning for running every time you feel we get too close.”

  “Okay. You can come in.”

  ***

  Once inside, Declan spent a few minutes on the phone cancelling or rescheduling their plans while Charlie poured some wine. While he was out of decent eavesdropping range, he still managed to hold her in his gaze. Charlie also noticed he positioned himself between the front door and her. She had nowhere to run.

  Her imagination conjured up all sorts of scenarios where she ran and he caught her. Charlie envisioned Declan throwing her down to punish her and have his way with her. The little scenes always ended the same: with Charlie surrendering to Declan’s will and promising to never run again. A delicious chill snaked its way down her body as she replayed different versions of the same theme.

  By the time Declan was walking toward her, she was dying to take off toward the door just to see if he would be in hot pursuit. Charlie couldn’t wipe the silly smirk off her face.

  “That’s a devious little grin. What are you thinking about?”

  “I was wondering what you’d do if I made a run for the door.”

  “Hmmm … What do you think I’d do?”

  Charlie giggled nervously.

  “Okay, let me rephrase that … What do you imagine me doing?”

  She could feel the heat rising up her neck and onto her cheeks.

  “Go ahead. Run.”

  Charlie spun away from the door to throw him off. It bought her a couple yards of a head start but she was going in the wrong direction. She ran around the furniture grouping, placing the objects between them for a momentary standoff.

  Her heart was knocking wildly. Her mind had somehow convinced her body that she was in some sort of danger and needed to flee. It was completely exhilarating. She faked right and then changed direction to the left, but he was onto her. His arms wrapped around Charlie as she hooked around the end of the sofa and was about to make her way toward the door.

  “Gotcha.”

  Charlie struggled in Declan’s arms, but he wrangled her to the sofa and managed to climb on top of her so that his knees and calves pinned her arms, and his weight held her hips in place. Charlie made one more attempt to free herself but could feel that there was no chance of escaping that position. He had her. She lay panting in defeat beneath him.

  Declan sneered down at Charlie. “That’s all you got?”

  She struggled against him, and he had to use his hands to keep her restrained.

  “Charlotte, you’ll hurt yourself if you’re not careful. It won’t buy you any sympathy from me. I’ll still punish you for running.”

  Declan released his grip on her wrists but he still pinned her arms f
irmly between the sofa cushions and his legs. He ran his hands through his hair, smoothing back the strands that plastered his face.

  “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that? Always plotting your escape. Never really giving us a chance.”

  Charlie froze. Is he role-playing or is this for real?

  “I’ll take the blame for some of it. I’ve been too soft on you. But that changes right now.”

  ***

  “Charlotte. Charlotte?”

  Charlie’s brain traveled to remote locations that involved in-depth analysis. Her mind worked overtime to process what Declan requested of her. But then again she had always been like that. Her mind operated at a different speed than most people, and when she was a young girl she had trouble sleeping. She learned techniques to quiet her mind, but when she faced a decision, her analytical side went into overdrive.

  She agonized over personal decisions, sometimes for days. Charlie worked through all the possible consequences of her decisions. She could make split decisions in a work environment, but when it came to her personal life, it was nearly impossible for her to decipher the best choice. Tonight was no different.

  “You need to make a choice. Which will it be?”

  Charlie stared at the boxes labeled “A,” “B,” and “C.” Declan’s kinky version of “Let’s Make a Deal” it seemed. He gave her three options for play to choose from tonight. He told her one she would like, one she would hate, and one she would struggle with but find pleasure in. She had to pick.

  “Whatever choice you find best, Master.” Charlie thought playing the submissive card would get her out of having to decide. It didn’t work.

  “That’s not going to fly tonight, my dear.” Declan chuckled. “We can sit here all night, but you are going to choose.”

  Reverse psychology failed. Second-guessing him was not an option. Declan knew human nature well. Hell, he understands me as well as, if not better than I do. Charlie knew she couldn’t avoid the choice.

  And the cycle of indecision continued. Charlie wanted to make a choice but felt like she couldn’t. If I follow statistics, I would get the one he wants me to have. But he would know I know that, so he would expect me not to choose that one … Which is the one I would enjoy and which is the one I would detest? Which one does he want me to pick?

  Charlie became a frustrated, fidgety mess while Declan on the other hand remained perfectly calm, almost amused.

  “Okay. I pick C.”

  “C? Really?” His eyes darkened. “Are you certain you want to choose C”?

  That one small question set Charlie’s mind spinning once more. Is that the wrong one? Is that not the one he wants me to pick? Should I change my choice? Should I hold firm with my decision?

  “Yes, please, Master. I choose C.” Charlie exhaled, her pulse racing, her heart beating like a steam engine.

  “Very well then, Charlotte.” Declan raked his gaze over her. Taking the box, he placed it in front of her on the coffee table where they sat. “You’ve done well tonight. All I wanted you to do was to pick a box, to put yourself aside and do what I required. All I wanted was your absolute cooperation and complete obedience and you’ve given that to me.”

  “What’s in the box, Master?”

  Declan smiled. “My sweet girl, it doesn’t matter what is in the box. It matters that you allowed me to be in control. Your fears have been getting the best of you, the best of us. Your questioning of your choices is getting in the way of fully submitting to me. But not tonight..”

  ***

  Declan stared down at the flawless, creamy skin of Charlotte’s naked backside. Not a mark in sight, it was the most perfect canvas.

  She’s trembling.

  He liked it when she was a bit scared. It gave him something to work with. He fully admitted her vulnerability got him charged. It was a tribute to how completely she trusted him. Granted, Charlotte couldn’t move because he bound her to the bed, but she allowed him to do so with full knowledge of what he intended to do.

  She belongs with me.

  Declan outstretched his hand and lightly caressed her skin to soothe her. The back of his tanned hand was at least three shades darker than her back. Declan wondered if his calluses felt like sandpaper against her skin. Did they remind her that he practiced regularly with a whip? Her trembling diminished considerably with his caresses.

  I love to work Charlotte’s body to a frenzy and bring it back down again. Up. Down. If I wanted, I could tease her to the brink of climax and pull back again. But that would just distract me from what I really want to do.

  Declan kept one hand resting on the small of her back and he reached into his bag to retrieve the flogger. He ran his fingers through the heavy tendrils of the custom elk flogger he cradled in his hand. Declan had given her little information about what to expect. He couldn’t tell her it would just be a sensual flogging, she might get aroused at just the mere thought. Where would the fun in that be? No, he kept his plans shrouded in mystery. He wanted Charlotte to imagine that he might cause her physical pain. He needed her to submit to that idea and accept that it was his hands delivering both pleasure and pain to her body.

  He draped the flogger’s tendrils on Charlotte’s bare back, relishing the shivers he elicited from her skin with the feel of the cold leather. Her nervousness was already causing her skin to perspire, an early indication of a healthy endocrine system. Declan recalled the demonstration about endorphin reaction to pain from Owen. A professional tattooist, Owen demonstrated what happened when he tattooed a rather large piece between the shoulder blades of a twenty-something female. She was covered in sweat and goose bumps; the physical manifestation of the body’s endorphin reaction to the pain.

  Declan dragged the fingers of the flogger along Charlotte’s skin, the full weight caressing her spine. It served to warm the tendrils as much as it focused her attention where he wanted it. He swiped it in a lazy pattern up one side of her spine and down the other. Then from one shoulder blade diagonally to the opposite hip, across her buttocks, and up the other diagonal. He weaved one design after another, changing direction, changing pattern, but always at a slow, controlled speed. Declan had all the time in the world. The longer he performed this ritual, the more confidence she would have in his control.

  He turned his wrist slowly over her buttocks so the strands slid down her inner thighs, but only a few at a time. Glistening wetness along her slit caught his eye as he was about to move to the other side. Declan gripped the handle of the flogger tighter so she wouldn’t be able to feel his hand shaking. It took a lot of willpower to keep himself from stopping to take advantage of her slickness.

  A sudden wave hit Declan’s nostrils; the scent of her unmistakable arousal penetrated his senses. He froze for a moment and held his breath. He tried not to imagine himself tearing open his pants and ripping her in two with his cock. It would be so easy to do.

  Not yet. Wait. Breathe.

  Declan closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. For a few seconds he concentrated solely on breathing. In. And out. Deep cleansing breaths. In. Out.

  Better.

  He regained a sense of calm. He was in total control. Declan methodically continued to weave a path across her back, buttocks, and thighs, lifting the flogger a little more with each pass until he held most of the weight of it, and the tips were the only part in contact with Charlotte’s body. Her skin bubbled up in gooseflesh, and Declan heard her make a noise for the first time since he began. She moaned. She’s ready.

  Declan lifted the flogger, and moving his wrist in a small circle, he brought the mop down on the fleshiest part of her ass with a thud. He locked his gaze on her body to catch any reaction. Charlotte froze in place. He dragged the device over the spot he’d just mildly assaulted and observed her muscles release the tension they were holding.

  Good girl.

  He wanted to tell her aloud how proud he was of her, but Declan wanted her to remain focused solely on the flogger. There’d
be plenty of time afterward for praise.

  Declan lifted the device for another swing and watched intently. The flogger was too heavy to sting, but this was her first flogging and she got so easily startled. Her panicky brain could easily convince her that his actions amounted to an assault. He needed to take it slow until she relaxed more.

  The second swing was better. She tensed for a moment but then relaxed on her own. He caressed her with the mop anyway. He needed her to know that she was doing exactly what he wanted. The following two strokes showed progressive improvement. Her breathing began to normalize, and she hardly tensed at all when the strands left her body the second before the strike. Declan started a slow, steady rhythm of swings. Each blow landed adjacent to the previous blow. One heavy thud after the next with only a brief moment of silence between. He found himself falling into a hypnotic trance. Charlotte’s breathing turned so heavy at one point; it was as though she fell asleep.

  After covering most of her back and thighs, Declan decided it was time to increase the intensity to warming strokes on her buttocks. He swung the flogger in a larger circle, using more of his bicep to force it around and onto her ass. The thud was only slightly louder, but the force increased, causing Charlotte’s skin to ripple as the impact traveled along the underlying tissue. Charlotte’s breathing grew shallow momentarily, then resumed the deeper rhythm. He repeated the same stroke. Again. Again. Again.

  Declan lifted the flogger to gauge how warm the area was becoming. She was already a deep scarlet.

  Don’t you just love fair skin? It reddens so easily.

  He resisted running his palm over the warmth. He knew if he did, he would chuck the flogger and get on with fucking her. Neither one of them was ready for that yet. Instead, Declan concentrated on the other side and warmed it to the same beautiful red.