Killing Time (Ties That Bond Trilogy #1)

by SE Chardou

  “Why? So you can remember how much my sister and I aren’t alike?”

  He touched my lips with the tips of his fingers. “Liebling, I don’t want you because you are Trésor’s sister. You can’t replace her and even if you could, what a sick, twisted reason to crave someone. I was attracted to you from the moment we met at the police station…before that if I am to be perfectly honest. I saw you for the first time about eighteen months ago at a fundraiser. I didn’t know who you were and I would have never seen you but you and Trésor were arguing. What was it about?”

  I sat up and balanced myself on his lap though his stiff cock, tense and swollen against me, made it hard for me to concentrate. “She’d cut us out of her life by then and I wanted to know why. I’m not going to sit here and pretend like my parents’ gave a shit because they have their own lives to lead and they weren’t particularly concerned. She’d disappointed them and they seemed to be forever bitter about her chosen profession—how she decided to conduct her life. I could understand why she chose not to communicate with them but I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t have anything to do with me. I’m not our parents and I never judged her.

  “She was lucid that night and obviously off drugs but she’d had a drink or two and acted very stand-offish. It was almost like she didn’t want anyone to know we were related. She merely went on and on in circles about how she would contact me when she got the opportunity but she was incredibly busy at the moment.” I stopped talking and tried to remember that night clearer.

  It was a charity ball for the fight against Pediatric HIV and AIDS if I wasn’t mistaken. I did notice a trio of three men watching us at one time, only because I recognized Jason but I didn’t recognize the two men he was with at the time. They looked similar but why hadn’t I pegged them for identical twins. It was probably because I’d only glanced at them quickly before I tried to finish a conversation with my sister that seemed to be going nowhere. She wasn’t having any of it—my feelings, and my concern was lost upon her and all she wanted to do was end the conversation as soon as possible.

  “You remember me from a charity event you attended eighteen months ago?” I asked out loud.

  “Well, I am ashamed to admit now but I didn’t even know who you were but Severin did. He told me you were the famous reporter…without his insight…I wouldn’t have known. I just saw an extremely attractive woman talking to Trésor who could have been her sister.”

  “I think you are the first person to say that. Most people say we don’t look a damn thing alike at all and when we were growing up, we would get this bewildered look and then, ‘You two are sisters?’…it was all so very amusing until it wasn’t.”

  Rory laughed and I couldn’t help but laugh along with him. “Try being an identical twin. Do you know how much shit I caught because Severin would mess up and I got blamed? I don’t know why but Mama favored me so she had Severin’s hair cut off so people could tell us apart by our different hairstyles. It made no difference though because I could never be rid of him and then . . . it got to the point where I didn’t want to be away from him and enjoyed the closeness we shared.

  “We both attended University of Munich together and we got the same Bachelor’s and Master’s degrees. He stayed in Germany though and decided to get his Master’s in Munich. I didn’t see him again until Harvard and that is when we both attended there for our Doctorate degrees but he majored in a different subject.”

  “What did he study?” I inquired.

  “Organizational Behavior. I didn’t really get why he would do a Doctorate in something that was basically sociology and psychology wrapped in one but I have been proven wrong over the years. He gets people and he can peg someone the moment they enter our club. He’s definitely kept our various establishments clean and controversial free. He can spot a pedophile, someone who enjoys bestiality or someone interested in making a snuff film from a mile away. He’s just absolutely remarkable—when it comes to understanding personality types way more fucked up than his, and I can’t take that away from him.”

  Rory smiled at me with a twinkle in his expressive blue-green eyes. “He says I am too trusting. I have too much faith in people. The problem with him is he doesn’t trust people at all and he doesn’t feel like he has the upper hand unless he knows he can either use someone or control someone.”

  “Aren’t they one in the same?”

  “No. When he sets out to use an individual, he’s not interested in long term usage and if he is controlling someone then it will be for a while and he has no wish to dispose of them so quickly. Everything about Severin is methodical.”

  “Isn’t it the same with you too?”

  “Yes but less so. If you can pin-point why you can spot the difference when other people can’t then feel free to let me know?”

  I lay my head against his chest as he began to massage my scalp again. “That’s easy. It’s in the eyes. Yours still have life in them…a conscience and a soul. Severin lacks that. I don’t know what happened to him but it shut him off from his emotions. He is incapable of feeling much of anything at all.”

  “My thoughts exactly. Let’s go to bed.”

  “I thought you would never ask.”

  Chapter Twelve

  ALTHOUGH I HALF-HEARTEDLY PRAYED for a quiet night, I knew the chances of that happening were quite low the moment I caught the look of lust in Rory’s eyes. I stood and waited until he gracefully made his way to his feet. He strode to me like a panther that had his prey firmly in his sight as I continued to back away from him.

  He began to strip clothes as he walked toward me. His silk shirt disappeared and so did his black stovepipe jeans. I don’t know why but I was pleasantly surprised to find out he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

  “Where are you going?” he asked in a completely innocent voice. “The bedroom is this way and you’re heading in the wrong direction.”

  “Oh?” I gazed over his luscious body with eager, hungry eyes. All that lean perfection and those hidden muscles; a washboard stomach and that delicious V-dip of his torso toward the more than adequate cock, which was as hard as a proverbial rock.

  I backed into the mantel of the fireplace and he grabbed me into his arms. My sweat jacket disappeared to reveal a sexy La Perla bra which matched the thong I wore underneath the bottoms. Rory slipped the bra strap down and my nipple peaked out. I was completely taken by surprise as he bent before me and felt the heat of his mouth on my nipple. His teeth bit it lightly before his tongue teased my ultra sensitive nipple and I arched my back.

  I reached to slide down my pants but his hands were immediately at my wrists and pushing them against the wall as he continued to assault my left breast. My right breast felt overwhelmingly ignored but I learned the hard way even if Rory wasn’t as an extreme Dom as his brother, he still was one and it didn’t pay to do anything to be punished.

  My heart thundered against my chest and I wondered how he would choose to punish me if I chose purposely choose to disobey him? This exquisite yet ostentatious suite didn’t exactly seem to be filled with sex toys, handcuffs and other fun sadistic items he used frequently. However, I knew how easily looks could be deceiving.

  He grabbed my hands and held them behind my back with one hand while he walked us to the bedroom. His other hand teased and caressed my neglected breast, his index and thumb pinched the nipple past the point of pleasure and firmly into pain territory.

  “Are your nipples extremely sensitive?” he whispered in my ear.

  “What woman’s nipples aren’t sensitive?” I questioned back.

  Rory held my face with a hand. “We’ll have to find out since you seem to incapable of answering sex-related questions.”

  He pushed me back on the bed which like most hotel room beds, had already been folded back. I lay down as he slipped my sweatpants, thong included, off my body and undid my bra before he disposed of it on the floor.

  He walked over to a drawer and opened it and grabbed
a metal chain I didn’t get a good look at it before he strode back to the bed. “Are you scared?”

  “A little,” I replied truthfully.

  Rory smiled and leaned over toward my left ear. “You’ll just have to trust me but since I don’t want you to go into full hyperventilation mode, how about you wear a blindfold. I won’t handcuff your wrists because it’s a game of trust. I trust you to know I am fully aware what I am doing and you trust me not to go too far. As usual, no safe words, no stopping until we are finished, is that clear?”

  I nodded vigorously as a tear slid down my cheek.

  He kissed my face and his hands felt delicious against my naked body. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or cause any scars. I promise you will enjoy this but sometimes you have to lose yourself to find yourself. It’s a cliché but it’s true. It is about letting go. Allow yourself to belong to someone else and this will be a lot easier for you to accept. Does that make sense?”

  “Yes.”

  “I won’t gag you either but I am trusting you to keep your volume level down, is that understood. And the same rules apply . . . no coming until I tell you.”

  “Okay.”

  I bit my lip as he slipped the blindfold over my face. The room went black and he lay me down again. His fingers pinched my nipples again and although the feeling wasn’t pleasant, I arched against his touch. And then the first clamp was placed on my nipple and I gasped out loud.

  “Breathe. Your nipples are remarkable instruments. They are meant to feed children . . . they are a lot tougher than you think.”

  I tried to breathe normally as he placed the second clamp on my other nipple. The pain began to fade a bit but there was a weird chain as I could feel cold steel against my ribcage and on my stomach. Rory spread my legs and slid two fingers inside me before his hot breath teased my clit. I sighed and he gave the chain a little tug, which made my nipples sing with pain.

  “Remember, no coming . . . under any circumstances.”

  I nodded my head again.

  He tongued my clit and my hips bucked against his movements involuntarily. His teeth scraped against the nub before his whole mouth surrounded one of my most erogenous and sensitive pleasure centers, which made me moan out loud. I was close, so very close to coming until Rory squeezed my clit between his fingers and placed a clamp on it.

  It was impossible for me to come now, not when I had a clamp on my clit that squeezed the desire right out of me. My breath came hard and fast now—completely and utterly beyond my control.

  “Calm down and remember what I said, you have to breathe.”

  “But . . . why would you do that?”

  “Do what?”

  “Every pleasure center of my body has been cut off and I can’t enjoy sex,” I moaned out loud.

  Rory laughed at me though there was plenty of mirth involved. “What if I told you that is a far from the truth as possible? I have cut off three pleasure sources but believe me there are others and that is what this is about . . . learning you have so many other erogenous parts of your body. When they take you to the edge then I will just have to give a little tug at the chain and the pain will bring you back into focus.

  “There are two ways to look at pain. You can detest it and therefore when I do bring you back into focus, you will start to hate the clamps I have put on your nipples and clit. Or . . . you can embrace it and learn to love it and understand it. Realize that pain is every bit as sexy and exciting as pleasure and it will allow you to cross a threshold and unlock more sexual satisfaction and enjoyment than you ever thought was possible. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  And I did understand but I had always been a bit of a coward when it came to physical pain. I wasn’t good with it and didn’t want to know it, become familiar with it or embrace it for the matter. Perhaps I would have been better off with the vanilla yet unsatisfying sex Grayson and I shared together. Then again, that bridge had been badly and irrevocably burned, and there was no way to turn back the hands of time.

  I could feel his hands on my thighs and buttocks as he spread my legs and two of his fingers slid inside me again but this time, there was so much pleasure, I couldn’t take it. He was caressing my G-spot and although I knew how much a woman could get out of stimulation, I’d never tried it without added clitoral stimulation.

  I spread my legs further and the position allowed him to manipulate his fingers against the spongy tissue inside me until I was on the brink of a monster orgasm. He tugged at the chain and despite the intense pain I couldn’t block it out and bucked against his hands and my whole body shook with ecstasy as if I was having a seizure.

  He lay between my legs and I could feel his warm breath on my face, near my ear. “I did that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think I am a total sadist. If you’d held out instead seizing instant gratification, I would have actually taken the clamps off. However, you seem to be enjoying them so much, leave them on a while longer.”

  A while longer?

  My nipples were so sensitive to the touch, one tug and I was writhing beneath him. My clit felt like it was on fire yet the pleasure was so intense, it was the ultimate sadistic device!

  Rory grabbed my left leg and lifted it onto his shoulder. I didn’t quite know what he was doing until I felt every inch of his thick, hard cock sink inside of me. I was so wet, I was embarrassed by all the slickness and noises my body made while he ground away inside of me.

  It was a trip to another depth of sex as he thrust into me with slow, languid strokes and every time he was to the hilt inside me, his pelvis would hit my clit clasp and make me gasp. He was obviously doing it on purpose but it was no longer painful, just an incredibly tense form of orgasm delay as opposed to denial.

  His body felt so firm against mine, when he laid his chest against my nipple clamps, I moaned without thinking. It was too much, my body felt overly stimulated and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it but take it. From his long, slow thrusts inside of me to his pelvis hitting my clit clamp and his chest firmly pressed against my nipple clamps.

  “Look at your face, you are so fucking beautiful. I could watch myself fucking you all day and never come but I’d be so satisfied because I do believe this is the first time anyone has been able to bring out the real you. You’re a natural born submissive and you don’t even know it. You needed the right man to come along to coax you instead of forcing you but look at you.”

  “I can’t look at you—I’m blindfolded, remember?” I inquired though I sought out his face based upon where his voice was coming from.

  The contours were beautiful and the roughness of his five o’clock shadow gave way to the smooth lines of his forehead. My fingers traced his soft lips before his mouth opened to me and he sucked on my index finger. I burst into laughter as he tickled it with his tongue before biting the skin lightly with sharp teeth.

  He slipped the blindfold away from my eyes and my vision quickly adjusted to the dim light, his face studying mine intently as the steady beating of our own hearts could be felt against each other’s damp skin.

  I stared into his aquamarine eyes and pulled him toward me. He kissed me hungrily and the clink of metal from my clamps and the sound of flesh hitting flesh were blurred out by our intense make-out session where his mouth seemed to devour my own with a feverish urgency and intensity. Our tongues—swirled against one another as if they were one organism instead of two. We explored each other’s mouths and yet, the kiss we indulged in was so passionate and hungry too. I could feel myself on the edge of a delicious precipice where the end was so near yet so far away.

  He ended our kiss way too prematurely for my taste and turned me over onto my back. My heart galloped in my chest and a sinking feeling hit my stomach. Not my ass, please don’t let him take me up the ass. I was sore and needed time before I could indulge in that activity again.

  As if reading my mind, he leaned into my ear. “Don’t worry, I won’t take you anally. Actually I
can’t because you haven’t been cleaned out properly and I am not big on accidents happening back there so we will leave that area of your body alone until I have had proper time to teach you everything you need to know. We can explore that more when we get to France.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief as he kissed my back and grabbed me by the waist. His cock thrust back inside me and I sighed as he entered my depths over and over again. As he fucked me, he managed to remove the clamp from my clit and that area, deprived of blood, flooded and engorged painfully. He slipped the nipple clamps from my breasts and blood flowed to the tips of my nipples and sent a shiver of pain straight through me.

  “Tell me, liebling, are you ready to come?”

  “Yes,” I gasped out loud.

  “Good because I will help you on your way,” he whispered as he leaned over me and his fingers rubbed my clit, which felt sensitive and raw. How wrong I was, it was hard and the moments his fingers circled the nub, some sensual part inside me snapped like a rubber band. I came long and intensely, my vaginal muscles clenching his cock so hard, his orgasm followed mine while a low, throaty moan escaped his parted lips.

  We were in that position for what seemed like forever before Rory withdrew and lay on his back. He pulled me to his chest and held me within his embrace as if he were afraid to let me go. His fingers played with silky strands of my hair and his breathing returned to normal until I barely felt the rise and fall of his chest.

  “I thought I exhausted you earlier today,” I teased him before I laughed to break any tension my comment might have caused between us.

  “Believe me, you have but…if I knew what the hell it was about you that drove me crazy, I would tell you to stop it so I can get some well needed rest. I haven’t slept much since . . .”

  He didn’t have to say it. We both knew what he was talking about. The death of my sister had left him listless, unable to rest and all he wished to do was get lost in sex and lots of it. However, he wasn’t supposed to feel anything for his bed partner and I had thrown a serious monkey wrench in his plans though no more than he had done to mine.