BDSM Connections - The Complete 4 Novel Series

by Claire Thompson

  He lowered his face to her cunt, inhaling the perfume of her musk as he darted his tongue along her delicate, sweet folds. He brought her close to the edge of a trembling climax and then abruptly pulled away, replacing his tongue with the sharp crack of his palm against her wet, spread cunt.

  Allie cried out in shock and pain. Excited, Liam smacked her again, and then again, until she began to twist in her bonds, whimpering softly. She said something he couldn’t quite catch.

  “What was that?” he asked, punctuating his words with another sharp slap against her hot cunt.

  “Fuck me, Sir,” she cried breathlessly. “Please fuck me, Sir Liam.”

  He wanted to resist her; to force her to beg, but he couldn’t hold out another second. His balls aching, his cock throbbing, he lifted his body over her and thrust into her without warning or preamble, burying his cock to the hilt in the velvet clutch of her pussy.

  He groaned at the sheer pleasure of claiming this beautiful, strong, lovely woman. Now that he’d said it once, it was easier to repeat, and Liam whispered into Allie’s ear as he thrust inside her, “I love you, Allie. I love you.”

  “Can I…” she gasped, apparently unable to say more.

  “Yes,” Liam managed, just as a powerful climax rocketed through him.

  He collapsed against her, their bodies slick with sweat, their limbs entangled, both too spent to move.

  The car came hurtling out of nowhere, rushing toward him with the roar of its engine and the screech of its tires. He stared in frozen horror as the man behind the wheel smashed through the windshield, shards of splintering glass slicing the man’s face into ribbons of blood as he landed with a terrifying thump onto Liam’s car.

  “You did this,” the man cried, his eyes rolling with pain and rage. Liam swerved wildly on the road, trying desperately to regain control of his car. His feet had turned into lead, and he was unable to lift his foot, which pressed hard against the gas pedal as the car raced forward at an impossible speed.

  The man remained glued to his windshield, as if held in place by suction cups. “You killed me,” he cried accusingly. Liam could see his crushed skull through the ripped skin of what had been his forehead. Gobbets of gray matter were splattered, along with red splashes of blood, over the glass. Liam stared in horror as the man reached through the windshield, his mangled hand passing through the glass as easily as a ghost’s. He gripped Liam’s shoulder, shaking it hard as he moaned, “Your fault. Your fault. Your fault.”

  “Liam, Liam, wake up. You’re dreaming. Please, wake up. It’s only a dream.”

  Liam sprang up, his heart striking like a jackhammer in his chest. He reached for the steering wheel, desperately trying to control the car as it careened wildly over the road.

  “Liam! Wake up!”

  As Allie’s words penetrated his sleep-soaked brain, Liam hovered for a moment between nightmare and reality, unable to make sense of where he was or what was happening.

  “Liam,” Allie said again, her voice cracking with emotion. “It’s okay. You’re okay. It was just a dream. You’re here with me, safe in my bed.” She brought her arms around him, and Liam realized he was shaking, his body bathed in sweat. “Safe in my arms,” she added tenderly, pulling his head down to her breast.

  All at once, Liam was overwhelmed by the lingering emotion caused by the nightmare. He struggled to push through the anguish as Allie cradled him in her arms. To his horror, he began to cry.

  Allie stroked his head, making soothing sounds in her throat. “It’s okay,” she whispered gently. It’s okay to cry. I am your safe place, as you are mine.”

  Her words were like a sharp lance that pierced the poison-filled tumor of his guilt and grief, and his tears turned into ragged, ugly sobs. Allie continued to hold him and stroke him, gently rocking him as he wept.

  Even in the midst of his tears, it occurred to Liam he hadn’t cried at the actual time of the accident, or afterward when he had learned what had become of the other driver. He hadn’t cried when Lila, her face a study in shock as she stared at him in the hospital room, his body plugged with tubes and needles, bloodied and bruised, had whispered that she couldn’t stay.

  Now he cried as if his heart would break, while Allie held him, and his heart, together.

  ~*~

  Allie kept her arms around Liam for a long time after he had quieted. She held him until she was sure he was sleeping deeply, and, she hoped, dreamlessly. She understood that the car accident was the source of his nightmares, but she didn’t understand the depth and the terrible grip in which they still seemed to keep him, even after a year’s time.

  Gently extricating herself from him, Allie turned over on her side, vowing she would learn the truth of his nightmares, hoping he would trust her enough to share what it was that still seemed to weigh so heavily on his soul.

  When they woke the next morning, she waited for Liam to say something about the night before, but he did not. As they brushed their teeth, she could see his face was drawn and haggard. Gently, she asked, “How are you this morning? It was a rough night, huh?”

  Liam’s eyes slid away from the mirror, and he shrugged. “Sorry about that,” he said brusquely. “I still have nightmares from time to time. It’s no big deal.”

  “No big deal?” Allie began, but then she stopped, suddenly aware of how incredibly uncomfortable Liam had become. He held himself stiffly, as if steeling himself for a blow. She closed her mouth, uncertain how to proceed.

  Maybe it just wasn’t the right time. He had cried in her arms. It was hard for some men, for most men, to be so vulnerable in front of a woman. In spite of the intensity and the passion between them, the relationship was still so new. She would give it time. She would give him time to open up when he was ready.

  Forcing brightness into her tone, she said, “Okay, then. We can talk about it later, whenever you’re ready.” The look of relief on his face was almost comical, if the subject weren’t so serious, and Allie allowed herself a smile. “Before I get down to work, are you hungry? There’s a fantastic Greek diner near here that makes fabulous corn muffins on the grill with tons of melted butter. I could run down and get some. Interested?”

  Liam’s lips lifted into a smile, even if the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Do they have coffee? Very strong coffee?”

  “Pure jet fuel. And real cream.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Chapter 10

  “Have you ever noticed women always go to the bathroom in pairs?” Martin Haller, Lauren’s boyfriend, asked. They watched Allie's and Lauren’s retreating backs as the two girls wove their way through the tables at the crowded restaurant—a trendy seafood place with a nice view of Boston Harbor. “What the heck is that about?”

  Liam shrugged. “Men enjoy the play-by-play in sports. I think women enjoy the play-by-play on dates. They’re probably dissecting us both right now, giving their opinions on how we’re each doing so far. Important decisions are made in the ladies’ restroom, I’m guessing.”

  Martin, somewhere in his late twenties, with dark, curly hair, intelligent brown eyes and a full beard, fingered one of the several gold hoop earrings he sported along his left ear as he grinned. “Hopefully we’re both passing the secret girl-tests. Lauren talks about Allie all the time. She really misses her, but she’s super glad the two of you have connected.”

  “I am, too,” Liam said with a smile. “It’s great they’re such good friends, and both into the scene. My best friends back in Oregon are also into the scene. I don’t have to leave out huge parts of my life and who I am when I’m around them, like I do with most vanilla folks, you know?”

  Martin nodded. “I hear you, man. Even with all the BDSM-lite hype out there these days, most people don’t really get the lifestyle, or approve of it if it goes beyond a little slap and tickle in the bedroom.”

  “Yeah,” Liam agreed. “Not that we need or even particularly want their approval.”

  Martin lifted his
beer mug toward Liam. “I like the way you think. Say, why don’t you two come out with us tonight? We’re going to The Hot Seat. It’s a cool underground club—invitation only.”

  “Ah,” Liam said, lifting his chin toward Martin. “That explains your duds.” Martin wore a black knit top tucked into black leather pants, his feet encased in heavy, black combat boots.

  Martin glanced down at himself and grinned. “Oh, this? Yeah, I guess, except I pretty much dress like this all the time during non-work hours. This is the real me, not the jacket and power tie shit I have to wear at the office.”

  “Well, it suits you,” Liam said, glancing down at his own well-worn, faded jeans and wondering what it would be like to slip into tightly sculpted black leather pants. “I guess I go more for the rumpled look,” he added with a self-deprecating grin.

  “Hey,” Martin shrugged. “Whatever works, right? So, what do you say, you guys up for the BDSM club? Hot Seat has all kinds of great equipment and toys. I’m pretty sure I can get you both in, if you’re up for it.”

  “We have an early flight in the morning,” Liam said slowly as he thought it over. Then he grinned, adding, “But, hey, sleep is for the meek, right?”

  “Exactly,” Martin agreed. “You gotta come. I have a new cane I can’t wait to try out on Lauren’s ass.”

  “Allie has something of an issue with canes,” Liam replied. “An issue that I believe needs exploring.”

  Martin lifted his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?” he said eagerly. “So let’s explore. We could do a double scene. Maybe take turns on each of them. String ‘em up side by side. Wouldn’t that be a pretty picture?”

  Liam considered this. It would indeed be a pretty picture—Allie with her tumble of unruly hair cascading down her long, slender back, suspended beside Lauren, a petite blonde with milky-white skin that probably showed a cane’s welts to great effect.

  He let the image go as he shook his head. “Not yet. I mean for Allie. She’s not ready yet for a public scene with a cane.”

  They stopped talking as the girls approached the table and seated themselves. Lauren was a cute girl, with long, straight blond hair, large blue eyes, a button nose and a wide, sensual mouth. She turned to Allie with a grin. “Do you ever wonder what guys talk about when we go off to the bathroom?”

  Allie looked expectantly at Liam, while Lauren regarded Martin.

  Both men shrugged and, as if they had rehearsed it, said in unison, “Sports.”

  The girls exchanged an amused glance.

  A waiter appeared with dessert menus. After they placed their orders, Lauren said to Martin, “I was telling Allie about the club tonight. Do you think we could get them in, too?”

  Allie put her hand over Liam’s, a tentative smile on her face. “What do you think, Liam? Would you like to check out a BDSM club here in Boston?”

  “Sure,” Liam said, smiling back at her as he turned his hand over and threaded his fingers with hers. “In fact, Martin was just telling me about the new cane he bought to use on Lauren’s ass.”

  Allie’s eyes widened, her hand fluttering to her mouth.

  Apparently unaware of Allie’s discomfiture, Lauren said eagerly, “It’s gorgeous, Allie. You should see it. The handle is braided with burgundy leather, and there’s this cool metal tip at the end of the cane that’s sure to leave a wicked mark.” She hugged herself and gave a theatrical shudder. “I can’t wait to feel the burn.”

  Lauren’s mobile features shifted from erotic longing to sudden excitement as she looked from Allie to Liam and back to Allie. “Hey, you guys could scene with us! Martin has lots of canes, right, Martin?” She glanced briefly at her boyfriend, but before he could respond, she rushed on. “And they have gear at the club, too. We could use one of theirs.”

  She placed her hand on Allie’s arm and squeezed. “Wouldn’t that be awesome, Allie? You and me in a double scene with these two gorgeous guys caning our asses?” She laughed happily. “We could compare welts afterward.”

  Allie looked anxious, her gaze flitting from Lauren to Liam and then back to Lauren. “Come on, Lauren,” she said in a small, tight voice. “You know I don’t do canes.”

  Lauren looked blank for a moment. Then she tossed back her long blond hair with a laugh. “What are you talking about, sweetie? You’re with a real Master now. You do whatever he wants you to do.” She held up a hand as Allie started to reply. “Yeah, I know, I know. You didn’t used to do canes. I get that. You didn’t used to do love, either, remember? That’s all changed now. Right?”

  Color splashed over Allie’s cheeks, her shoulders lifting with sudden tension. She looked helplessly at Liam. “I don’t—I mean, I’m not—that is…”

  “It’s okay, sub Allie,” Liam said in a low murmur for her ears only. “I got this.” Turning to Lauren, he said with a smile, “We’d love to come to the club with you guys. As to the rest of it”—he gave Allie’s hand a gentle squeeze—”we’ll play it by ear.”

  “Yes,” Allie agreed with evident relief. Sassy humor returned to her tone as she added, “I’d love to watch Martin lay some wicked stripes on your butt, girlfriend. Better you than me!”

  Martin, who had driven the four of them to the restaurant, stopped at Allie’s apartment so she could change into something more suitable for the club. Liam, who had only packed jeans for the trip to Boston, waited in the car with Martin while the girls ran upstairs.

  As they disappeared inside the apartment building, Martin twisted back to regard Liam. “So,” he said, “you know, uh, Lauren told me about your car accident and stuff. Must have been pretty bad, huh? You get around pretty good with that cane, though, right?”

  Heat tried to rise in Liam’s face, but he refused to allow it. This was what he hated—the unwelcome attention of well-meaning but clueless friends and strangers. “Yeah,” he said, trying not to snap, “it took some getting used to, but it’s fine. I get around fine.”

  Martin nodded. “Awesome. I just ask because this club we’re going to—it’s literally underground. There are pretty steep stairs we have to go down to get in. I could call ahead. They have a bouncer there who I’ve personally watched carry a woman, wheelchair and all, down those stairs like it was nothing. Not that you’d need carrying,” he added quickly. “But you know, if you needed assistance or whatever.”

  Aware Martin was just being thoughtful, Liam managed what he hoped was a gracious smile. “Not a problem,” he replied. “I can handle stairs, but I appreciate your looking out for me.”

  They broke off their conversation about sports teams on the East versus the West Coast when the girls exited the building about fifteen minutes later. Lauren, Martin had informed Liam, had her club outfit hidden beneath the dress she’d worn to dinner. “Not that there’s much to the outfit,” he added with a sly grin.

  Liam’s cock jumped to attention and saluted at the sight of Allie as the girls approached the curb. Beneath an open cream-colored silk blouse she wore a black leather bustier that offered her round breasts up like lush, ripe peaches. Her skirt was short, the black leather stopping at mid-thigh to reveal long, lightly tanned legs. She walked with a sensual, sashaying sway on black high heels. All that was missing, he thought suddenly, was a collar. His collar.

  Since he had met her, she had rarely worn much makeup, and needed none, but tonight she had applied a deep red lipstick to her sensual lips and some kind of glittery gold on her eyelids that brought out the copper and russet tones of her shiny hair.

  As she slid into the backseat beside Liam, she placed her hand on his thigh. He had to press his lips together to keep from groaning with pure lust. “Jesus,” he whispered, “you are fucking gorgeous.” He was rewarded with a dazzling smile.

  The Hot Seat entrance was located in the alley behind a BDSM clothing boutique, a doorbell beside its red metal door. Martin pressed the buzzer three times in rapid succession and then rapped twice against the door with his knuckles.

  Allie leaned into Liam. “It’s
like a speakeasy in the twenties, right?”

  “Yeah,” Liam agreed. “Except instead of bathtub gin, we’ve got whips and chains.”

  Martin turned back with a grin and patted the large gear bag he’d slung over his shoulder. “Yep,” he agreed with a laugh. “Right here.”

  “And canes,” Lauren piped up. “Don’t forget canes.”

  The lock clicked open noisily, and Martin pulled the door open. Liam gestured for the others to go first, and swung fairly easily down the narrow steps, avoiding the worst of the crumbling concrete as he maneuvered himself. See, not so bad, he told himself. No big deal.

  Martin spoke quietly with the big, burly man who opened the door at the foot of the stairs. As the other three stood back, Lauren reached for the hem of her short dress and pulled it over her head without a trace of self-consciousness.

  “You like?” she said to Allie and Liam as she executed a slow turn.

  “What’s not to like?” Allie quipped, echoing Liam’s own thought. Lauren’s ample breasts spilled over a red leather bra cut so low the top half of her areolas were visible. To complete the minimalist ensemble, she sported a matching red thong, the tiny triangle of leather leaving almost nothing to the imagination, set off sexily by sheer black thigh-high stockings and stiletto heels. The flesh on her ass and the backs of her thighs had the slightly mottled, ridged quality of someone who was whipped often and intensively, though it was clear the aftercare was good, the scarring minimal.

  Liam let out a low, appreciative whistle, which earned him a saucy, satisfied grin from Allie’s sexy friend. Perhaps inspired by Lauren’s casual exhibitionism, Allie let the silk blouse she wore slip from her shoulders. Willowy and graceful where Lauren was round and voluptuous, Allie was, to Liam’s taste, sheer perfection.

  “You like?” she echoed, her smile suddenly shy as she, too, pirouetted for Liam.

  “I love,” he affirmed sincerely.