Push (Bound #1)

by Olivia R. Keane

  With the entire area warmed, the real flogging could begin. He spread his stance to shoulder-width and angled his body to hers, he checked the distance for a full swing. There wasn’t much science to flogging. It was much simpler than wielding a single tail whip, but still it took some bit of finesse. His wrist needed to remain stable so the ends of the flogger didn’t snap her opposite thigh. Lack of control would cause Charlotte a nasty sting and ugly red marks that looked too much like tiny blooms of acne for Declan’s liking. No, the redness needed to bloom from her beautiful canvas carefully. Flogging was an art.

  Summoning the full strength of his shoulder and back muscles, Declan rounded his arm, landing the heavy tendrils hard across the center of Charlotte’s ass. Groaning, she tightened her butt cheeks for a moment. God, how adorable.

  Another round swing and a heavy thud on the same spot elicited a similar response. Declan paused to check her breathing. It was shallower. He was certain she could feel the pain. He’d instructed her to tell him when she thought she was getting close to her limit. So far, not a peep. Declan checked his position for another swing. He had to consciously make himself do it. Sometimes when things seemed effortless to him, he had a tendency to fuck them up. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up. Not if he wanted Charlotte to do this again. It was something he not only wanted, but needed from Charlotte. It centered him in a way that nothing else could.

  The mild whirring sound of the tendrils moved through the air. Charlotte groaned when they landed on her ass. Her hands tightened to fists in their bindings.

  “Master …”

  Declan paused listening. He knew Charlotte wouldn’t want to admit to nearing her limit so soon. “Two more, my Charlotte.”

  Declan delivered another wicked swing, just as hard, if not harder than the previous one. He expected Charlotte to protest, but she didn’t. She took it well, allowing the tears to be the only evidence of her discomfort.

  Declan had a difficult time gearing up for the last swing. His cock painfully strained against the zipper of his pants in anticipation of finally getting what it wanted. He delivered the final blow with almost as much intensity as the previous ones. He sucked in a deep breath, making himself meticulously smooth the flogger over the arm of the chair despite every bone in his body urging him to toss it.

  Declan unfastened his pants. The zipper fell by itself as his rigid cock nudged its way through the opening. He shoved the pants to his thighs and approached the bed until his purple, bulbous head was seeking out her heat. Charlotte was wetter than before. The moans he heard during the warm up must have been from her arousal rather than the licks of his flogger.

  It didn’t take much to slip past her slick entrance. He glided inside her until his pelvis was resting against her beautifully reddened ass. He placed both palms on Charlotte’s tender ass cheeks and she hissed in pain. This was where the real fun began for him. Something a simple as a gentle squeeze sent a fresh wave of pain to her brain, releasing more endorphins.. Sweat and gooseflesh adorned her body.

  He took a couple of gentle thrusts to remind her that he was there. She was usually so responsive, clenching his cock, but right now Charlotte focused on the pain in her head. He should have known she would as introspective as she was. Declan reached up and took a fistful of her hair in his left hand as he twisted her face to the side. He delivered a hard thrust, bottoming out deep inside her channel. A mild fluttering around his length rewarded him immediately.

  “That’s my greedy little one.”

  He held her face with his left hand, squeezing her tender butt cheek in his right hand, and thrusting his hips into her again. The fluttering intensified with a throbbing rhythm.

  “Fuck, yeah. That’s what I like. Milk my cock, baby,” Declan growled.

  He couldn’t hold back any longer. He swung his hips in a solid rhythm, thrusting his cock with everything he had as he kept a firm hold on her hair. Charlotte cried out, yelping and screaming a litany of nonsense as her climax shattered free around his exploding cock.

  He released her hair, massaging her prickling scalp before he even realized he was doing it. Declan rested his weight on his forearm between her shoulder blades, feeling relief and regret at the same time. Relief from the unquenchable fire of lust, yet regret that it was over so soon.

  Charlotte’s orgasm as a result of the flogging was intense and she panted almost as heavily as he did.

  I love this woman. More than life itself.

  Declan needed to release her from her bindings immediately. It was as though it was an emergency. He focused all his energy on it. He wanted to see Charlotte’s face. He needed to feel her tender, warm lips on his and her arms reaching around his neck. He wanted her soft breasts pressing against his chest.

  He wanted to hold this precious gift in his arms and let her know how much her submission meant to him. How much she meant to him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “How I love hurting you, Charlotte.”

  His words had hissed past his lips, infecting her like a toxin. Immediately her mind had begun reeling. She had become overwhelmed with emotion when he had told her his decision.

  “You know how much I love your hair. How dare you cut it without my permission.”

  “But, Sir, I only had her take off three inches.”

  “Three or thirty … It doesn’t matter. You defied my wishes.”

  Charlie had fought back tears and she knew Sir knew she was fighting them back. Her hair had been part of who she was since she was just a little girl, and he was going to remove it, painfully shedding her from how she saw herself, who she was.

  The snapping of the scissors had echoed through her ears. The chill upon her bare neck had evoked a near crippling sense of loss. She had known it pleased him. Still, cutting it short was not enough. Not for him.

  “You know I am not finished just yet. No, I am going to shave you. I am going to expose your scalp. I want my toy bald. I want your head to be as naked as the rest of you.”

  She had cried immediately when he pressed the steel against her head. Charlie had fought the emotional submission, but the vibrations, the desecration of her last mask broke the dam, leaving her a sobbing, uncontrolled mess.

  “Shh. I know it hurts, but it’s a gift to you really. In time you will see this punishment as freeing, and you’ll thank me for it.”

  ***

  Charlie woke to a sadness so full and terrible and pressing she could hardly breathe. She found everything polluted with the specters of the past. It was a weight on her chest, suffocating her tightly in its grip.

  “What is it, Charlotte? What’s the matter?” Declan bolted up from sleeping as if the nightmare had reached inside his mind from hers.

  “A dream,” she managed. “A dream about the past.” It was not until she heard herself speak the words that she started to cry.

  Charlie tried to gain control of herself, to rein in the terror, to push it back to the place she kept it locked away, hidden. But the dream stayed, the past no longer far enough away. She grasped her hair still woven in a braid. Just a dream, she thought. Nothing more.

  There was no hiding from Declan. He saw everything. Declan knew her thoughts, her fantasies and apparently even what terrified her.

  “Charlotte, you need to let me in.” He shifted so he sat in front of her on the bed.

  Charlie wondered if he would punish her for not being forthcoming with all the details of her past. Of course, it didn’t matter before. Before Griffin had existed only in the recesses of her mind. But now, now that she’d seen him again, it mattered more than she wanted it to.

  Declan’s gaze narrowed as he continued to study her. “What the hell is going through your head right now? Whatever it is, I don’t like it.”

  Charlie pursed her lips, doing her best to keep the word “nothing” prisoner. It would be futile to deny that things weren’t bothering her. It would be pointless to deny him. When he wanted something, he got it. She was proof of tha
t, and this quest would be no different. He’d given her time. And now she had to give him what he wanted, full access to everything about her, including her demons.

  Declan remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

  “It was the fall semester of my second year. He was a teaching assistant in the history course I was taking. He was intelligent, handsome, and intense. Every girl in that section wanted to go out with him. When he asked me out, I could hardly believe he was serious. I was a mousy, shy, Catholic school girl who’d never been kissed let alone tied to a bedpost and whipped.”

  How can I tell him how stupid and naïve I’d been? I didn’t know the first thing about dating or BDSM for that matter.

  “He opened a whole new world up to me. It was intoxicating and hypnotic. I was under his spell and willing to do anything he asked. Until the lines blurred and the domination turned into disturbing, abusive behavior. I was his prisoner trapped in a world I didn’t want to be in.” This time Charlie couldn’t swallow the tears. They fell freely down her face. “I tried to break free. So many times.”

  Declan dropped her hand and sat back. His jaw clenched as he raked his fingers through his hair. The separation from his touch pained Charlotte. Her body ached for the physical contact he now withheld. She craved his touch, somehow believing it was an affirmation that his feelings for her wouldn’t change.

  A sickness twisted inside her as she choked down her worst fears, continuing her confession. “I was finally able to get away.” She blew out a breath, swallowing hard before spurting out the horror of that night. “Everything had happened so fast. One minute I was fast asleep and the next screaming against the unforgiving tape forced over my lips. He covered my head, obliterating my ability to see anything. I knew he placed me inside some sort of a cargo van because I had a great deal of room to be tossed around as the vehicle turned through the streets. Eventually the noises of living in town gave way to the quiet silence of somewhere rural.

  “I figured he was simply pushing my buttons, invoking an element of fear in our play. He wanted me scared, confused, and aroused. I was calm at first.” Charlie wrung her hands as she relayed the events of that night. “My captor hadn’t spoken a word of instruction nor allowed his body to touch mine. Even when he tore the pajama top from my body, cut my bra, and used it to bind my wrists against the rough bark of a tree, could I feel his skin. The heavy sack covering my head eliminated any scent of the cologne he usually wore, so I couldn’t tell if it was him or some stranger. There was nothing, no indication that the man who pulled me from my bed and plunged me into darkness was someone I knew.

  “And suddenly nothing was okay. I heard several different male voices. I knew one of them was Griffin’s. Panic bloomed in me. We had an audience. At first I thought there was no way he would let them touch what was his, but then I became unsure. It didn’t matter. I’d learned well at his hands. My will was his will. I had no say, no voice, in what was to be done. I was to sit back and take it, be grateful to be driven to the heights of ecstasy no matter how objectionable the means.”

  If only she had paid better attention. If only she had known the tears had just begun. If she knew that by the time the moon had given way to dawn she would be a crumpled, bloodied, and bruised mess, and still unaware of where she was or what would happen next. It had been such a long day for her, such an evil day.

  Charlie bristled at the memory. “It ended when they dropped me on the doorstep of the campus clinic the morning of my birthday. It was his present to me.”

  There was a spark of rage in Declan’s eyes that made Charlotte wary. Darkness tracked over his face, and her heart filled with regret for telling him everything. She sobbed uncontrollably. She wished Griffin had remained a painful scar instead of the disease that was now infecting her relationship with Declan.

  He moved closer, wrapping his arms around her, and she looked up at him. He didn’t seem angry with her, and relief washed over her. It was hard enough navigating their relationship before. It was so new. She didn’t want to screw it up. She was already in love with Declan.

  Declan’s hands slid over her body and back up her arms, before giving her another gentle squeeze. “Is this why you are always running from me? Are you afraid things will take a turn for the worse like they did with him?” Declan traced a finger down her cheek, stroking gently. “Charlotte, I’m not going to punish you like that. That would require a level of assholery that I’m not even bastard enough to pull off. I don’t want to be that guy with you. Ever. Because it would make me no better than that sick son of a bitch.”

  Charlie nodded, some of the tension dissipating.

  Declan’s voice lowered until it was soft, his gaze finding hers, warm and tender. “I need you to understand something, Charlotte. Your relationship with him was not good. It was some kind of fucked up, even by kink standards. Safe, sane, and consensual should be the rules for any relationship. You had no understanding between you of limitations and acceptable behavior. I am a demanding jerk. You and I both know that. But I am not so egotistical as to get my rocks off on something I would only enjoy. If there’s something you don’t like, then all you have to do is tell me. We’ll talk about it. And we will find a way to work around it.”

  ***

  After Charlotte had set her demons free, he drew her into his chest. He stroked her hair, unable to keep his hands from her. With a sigh of contentment, she turned and put her head against his heart, and within minutes she fell asleep. For Declan, sleep didn’t come as easily. Instead, the words she relayed crashed down and tormented him.

  A dog collar? A fucking dog collar? Griffin had marched her in to PetSmart and made her pick out her own. Wide black leather with lots of chrome and spikes and a matching chrome leash. Adding insult to injury, he had refused a bag when the cashier offered it. Instead, he had subjected Charlotte to public submission and humiliation by fastening it around her neck right there and then clipping the leash to it. He had led her out the door like a damned dog.

  It was obvious her previous owner thought the collar was a reflection of himself, which was both arrogant and idiotic. A collar should represent care of his submissive, how in touch he was with her, and it should fit the woman wearing it. It should be a piece that fit her personality. It should be made especially for her. A gift to make her feel special, not like an animal to be caged and kept and punished.

  Declan came to the realization he needed to make Charlotte feel loved, cherished, and protected.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Six weeks before Christmas, Declan waited patiently in the back room of Owen’s tattoo shop. He thought about the style of collar he wanted for Charlotte. He wanted something she could wear out in public. Something that reflected her personality. It had to be understated yet vibrant. Not some random piece of jewelry chosen on a whim.

  It was perfect timing. Declan hadn’t felt as though Charlotte was ready for this step, or that he could take it with her until he could get to the bottom of her fears. Her past demons would be dealt with tonight, and then he could focus solely on Charlotte. Griffin would no longer be a threat.

  When Owen had called him informing him he’d located Griffin, he’d been careful to arrange things precisely. Declan hadn’t explained to Charlotte why he’d been so adamant with his expectations for the week. He could hardly tell her that he needed the week to take care of that asshole who’d put his hands on her. Declan didn’t want to take any chances that Griffin would be lying in wait for her. He had her phone number, so he was almost certain to know where she lived as well. Declan hadn’t wanted her to go anywhere except to work and home, his home. It was easy enough to convince her. Her sister was driving her mad, and she needed some space away from the berserk bride.

  The door opened. “Declan, you’re all set. Here’s the address of the club. Everything’s all-set. Lila double-checked the appointment time. He’s there every Friday at seven.”

  Declan nodded. “Thanks. It means a lot to me.�
��

  “You really should keep your hands clean on this. If you’re found out, you’ll be risking everything.”

  Declan’s lips tightened. “I need my point made. I need him to know whom he’s dealing with. I want him to fear me. He needs to know I can destroy him if he ever so much as breathes Charlotte’s name again.”

  Owen smiled ruefully. “I see your point. I have to admit if some motherfucker messed with Lila like that; I’d take matters into my own hands.”

  “You understand me then.”

  Owen nodded. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t like that you have to do it on your own, but I get why you have to. I’m just concerned it will come back to bite you in the ass.”

  “I’ve got it covered. I’ve made certain no one in our circle can tie me to what I am about to do.”

  “All right. So nothing new from the Wicked ‘Switch’ of the East?”

  “Not after her little stunt the other day. But knowing Katherine, I don’t expect the calm to last.”

  ***

  Later that night, the stream of people entering Halo ebbed and flowed. Declan wasn’t into the whole dungeon scene per se, but he could see how it could draw one in. The main room wasn’t a large one, and yet so much seemed to happen there—the tumult of people, the punishments, the creativity, the spectacle. The “B” film version of cold damp, slimed walls and rats scurrying with their nails clicking on damp cobblestones couldn’t have been further from the truth. No, Lila’s club oozed sumptuousness. The main room was dark, warm, and womb-like. The tangy smell of leather emanated from the furniture, heightening the senses. All the pieces were massive leather except for two enormous thrones, which elsewhere may have looked kitsch but here reigned with suitable aplomb.