Her eyes darkened, and her plump lips parted slightly as she watched me approach. She shamelessly lifted her chest, making the soft green silk of her blouse stretch across her glorious tits. I could see her nipples pebbling with arousal through the thin material.
"I think you need spanked until your ass is red, and you're begging me to fuck you," I continued in a low menacing growl.
She gasped, and her breathing quickened. I stopped in front of her and stared down at her fiercely. She shrank away, and took a slight step backwards as I loomed over her. It pleased me.
I leaned in until my lips brushed her ear. "I want you naked and bent over the back of the couch," I whispered harshly. "Now," I snarled out demandingly.
Jen startled and immediately began stripping out of her blouse and skirt. I crossed my arms and watched, enjoying the show as she bared her perfect creamy skin to me. She stopped for a moment in her bra and panties, letting me get an eye full. The bra was sheer gray lace with a matching thong, and neither left much to the imagination. I could clearly see the dark areolas that surrounded her delectable nipples, and the bare lips of her gorgeous pussy. My train of thought derailed for a moment as I stared at her helplessly, until I realized she was giving me a smug grin.
"Maybe you'd obey quicker if I threatened not to spank you," I suggested archly as I met her eyes and raised a brow at her meaningfully. That wiped the smirk right off her face as her eyes widened in surprise. She shook her head vehemently in denial of that idea and reached back to take off her bra. "That's what I thought," I said with a smug grin of my own.
She slid her panties down and stepped out of them. Then she reached down to take off her nude stiletto pumps.
"Leave those on," I growled out suddenly, liking the idea of fucking her with those fuck-me heels still on. She stood there for a moment staring yearningly at me. "Move!" I barked out. She jumped then scurried out of the room as fast as her heels could carry her. I watched her bare ass jiggle out of the room with a low groan.
I followed her at a more sedate pace, and paused in the doorway to watch her stop behind the couch and bend over to drape herself over the back of it. I stared open-mouthed and practically drooling at her pussy where it peeked out from between the tops of her thighs. I could see the tight little hole between the soft swell of her cheeks. Holy motherfucking hell, an ass like that should be illegal, and I don't know how I got so lucky that it was mine.
I pulled off my shirt and threw it aside, then stalked across the room. I stopped directly behind her, and began unbuckling and removing my belt. Jenny moaned at the jingling sound and wiggled her ass in anticipation.
"Arms behind your back, Jen," I commanded as I pulled my belt out of its last loop, all the while continuing to stare at her ass. She lifted her arms up toward me, and I quickly wrapped the belt around her wrists and secured them behind her back. "Color, Jen?" I asked. "You're not in pain are you?"
"No, sir," she replied breathily. "I'm green, Ford."
"Good," I murmured as I palmed her ass cheeks, flexing my fingers and kneading them into her supple flesh. She groaned under my ministrations. I shifted to the right, sliding my right hand up to the base of her spine and continued caressing her ass with my left.
"Mmm..." Jen hummed with pleasure. "Ford."
"Yes," I said low and seductively, then raised my left hand and delivered the first blow with no warning. Smack! It was a relatively light one, to warm Jen up, but was still hard enough to get her attention.
Jen gasped and cried out, her body jerking in surprise before letting out a low moan as I rubbed the sting away with soft caresses of my hand.
"More, Jen?" I asked in amusement as I slid my hand down between her legs to find her already soaking wet. A wash of desire poured over me in a warm rush, making my cock throb and ache for relief. I did this to her.
"Yes, sir," she replied pleadingly as a shiver shot through her entire body.
"Harder?" I asked as I grazed a finger across her swollen clit.
"Oh God, yes," she groaned out needily. "Please, sir.
"Be careful what you wish for, honey," I growled out warningly. I pulled my left hand back and struck her again, this time across the bottom of both cheeks, so she'd feel it on her sex too. She squealed and fought against the leather belt binding her wrists.
"Holy fuck, holy fuck," she blurted out frantically before she started panting erratically. Her eyes were huge and wild as she looked up at me over her shoulder.
I cocked my head at her curiously until sudden realization hit me. "You've never had your pussy spanked before, have you Jen?" I asked incredulously.
"N...n...no," she stuttered out as she shook her head. I slid my fingers through her wet folds in a seductive caress. She was even wetter now, but I still needed to check in with her since I was introducing something new to her.
"What's your color, Jen?" I asked. "Did you like it? Do you want me to do it again?"
"Green, green, green, sir," she answered immediately and vehemently. "Please do it again. Please, Ford."
A wide self-satisfied grin spread slowly across my lips. "Spread your legs as wide as you can," I commanded. She shifted on her heels as she widened her stance, baring herself more fully to me. I began rubbing her vulva and clit, stimulating and engorging the area, warming her up so it would be good for her. Rushing into a pussy spanking was a recipe for pain and an unhappy dissatisfied woman. You needed to build up to it slowly for it to feel good. I continued rubbing her until she whined in frustration, then I began. I pulled my left hand away and gave her a quick light tap on the lips of her pussy with just my fingers. She moaned in pleasure, her hips wiggling and undulating.
I gave her several more taps in quick succession, each one a little harder. She liked that even more as she mewled and whimpered in reaction. She was so responsive. It wasn't going to take long for her to come. I rubbed her lips and her clit again gently, then flicked my hand back and slapped her again, this time letting my fingertips graze her clit. She cried out my name as her body jerked and shivered all over.
"Mmm...good girl." I spread her wetness up between her cheeks and began massaging the tip of my right thumb over the tight little hole of her ass. I pressed my thumb into her, then slapped her five times in a row, this time my fingers landing squarely on her clit. Her cries of pleasure rose in pitch and volume with each strike. As the last blow hit her, I pressed my fingers firmly onto her clit and her body ignited instantaneously, just like I'd planned. She screamed and arched her back up off the couch, her asshole pulsing around my thumb as she flew apart. "Fuck, yes!" I snarled out savagely.
I had my cock out of my jeans in an instant, so hard and throbbing that it almost hurt. I slipped inside her effortlessly all the way to the root before she even had a chance to recover from her first climax. She was drenched, her insides still quivering and so fucking tight. I took both her hips in a bruising grip with my hands, and began taking deep savage thrusts in and out of her. I growled and snarled like a rutting animal in a perfect duet with Jenny's wailing screams of incredible pleasure.
Our bodies crashed together violently over and over again, until we both finally exploded into wild soul searing bliss that felt like it should have shaken the earth and rattled the universe. It was gloriously perfect. If only everything else in my world could be the same.
**********
I'm sorry, Ford," Gareth said with clear regret in his voice over the phone. "My investigator can't find any connection between Miss Wilkinson and Bennett." He sighed. "He contacted Sarina, but she wasn't forthcoming at all. She refused to talk to him except to insist that her allegations were real and referred him to her lawyer. The police looked into her bank accounts, but there aren't any large deposits of money that could indicate a payoff. Although, I imagine Bennett wouldn't be stupid enough to make it that easy to trace something back to him."
I replied with a low growl of frustration as I stopped pacing across my living room to rub at my throbbing temples.
I'd had this unrealistic hope when the phone rang a few minutes ago that somehow Gareth had found a way to get me out of this.
"The detectives are pressuring me for another interview with you. I've been pushing them off, hoping to gain some leverage or knowledge they didn't have to use for our benefit, but we're pretty much dead in the water at this point. I'm going to keep stalling though. My investigator isn't done yet. There may still be something we can find out to end this charade, before it gets worse."
"Worse?" I laughed bitterly. "I was arrested and humiliated for a disgusting thing I didn't even do. I've been treated like I was guilty by the police ever since. My business is dying as we speak since my name was spewed out on television as a rapist for the whole city to see. I'm trapped in my own apartment where I don't even feel secure or safe anymore since my privacy was violated yesterday. And now it's starting to look like I'm going to prison even though I'm innocent since there's nothing to prove otherwise. How could it get worse?"
"Ford," Gareth said gently, "this is just the beginning. Believe me when I say it can get much much worse."
"Gee, Gareth," I said irritably, trying to ignore the fear fluttering around inside me from his warning. "I thought you were here to help me, not freak me the fuck out."
"I am helping you, Ford," he insisted, annoyance coloring his tone now. "I'm not going to sugar coat it for you, or promise rainbows and sunshine. This is a criminal investigation for a felony. You need to be prepared for how bad this is going to get."
"So you're saying there's no hope of this getting any better?" I asked softly as the magnitude of what he was saying hit me hard. "Do I just resign myself to go through hell, before I end up in actual hell when I go to prison?" What little hope I had was dwindling fast.
"You are not going to prison," Gareth snarled out fiercely. "Not if I can fucking help it. This is a crucible, Ford. It'll either make you or break you. The choice is yours, but if you're the man that I know you are, then I know this won't break you." He tempered his tone. "It'll only make you stronger."
I didn't respond. I know he was trying to help by being so brutally honest, but I was just so sick of all this. I didn't want something to make me stronger. I'd been happy, content. I had a career that I loved that involved art. I'd found the woman I was going to share my life with, and have a family with. I didn't ask for any of this, and I didn't deserve it. I just wanted my fucking life back the way it was, and since no one seemed to be able to give me that, there wasn't anything to say.
"Ford?" Gareth asked in concern.
"Call me if you find out something useful," I said in a subdued monotone, then ended the call without another word.
I just stood there holding my phone in the middle an empty living room that was starting to feel more like a jail cell to me instead. It suddenly felt like the walls were closing in on me. The same panic the police had caused when they showed up yesterday fell over me, and I felt smothered by it. I couldn't stay here right now. I know Gareth didn't want me going anywhere, but I couldn't take it anymore. Jen wasn't here to help me cope since she'd left for work an hour or so ago. I couldn't fathom sitting here for hours waiting for her to come back again.
"Fuck this." At this point, I didn't care what I should or shouldn't do. I needed to get the fuck out of here. Gareth didn't need to know, and it was easier to ask for forgiveness later than to ask for permission now.
I quickly found my boots and slipped them on, then grabbed my leather jacket. I made a quick phone call to set up what I had in mind, then headed downstairs to my bike. Within minutes, I had my helmet on and was gunning the engine as I took off down the street. Thirty minutes later, I pulled up in front of Solid Stone Ink next to Nick's white Harley Fat Boy Lo.
They hadn't opened for the day yet, since it was barely nine in the morning, but I was meeting Nick here for a purpose. He lived closer and beat me here. I knocked on the thick glass of the door and was surprised when Nick's wife, Holly, came to the unlock the door to let me in. As always, she was strikingly beautiful dressed in jeans and a white tank top that showed off the tattoos that sleeved both her arms. Her warm blond hair was pulled up into a loose pile on top of her head.
"It's so good to see you, Ford," she said with soft affection as she swung the door open. Her kind blue eyes were deeply sympathetic. I appreciated her concern, but I was almost as tired of seeing the look she was giving me as the ones of disgust I'd gotten from the cops.
"Hi, Holly," I replied evenly as I walked in, trying to cover my irritation. I didn't want to be a dick. I should be grateful a few people believed in me.
She locked the door behind me, then immediately pulled me into her arms without another word. I hugged her back, not realizing just how much I needed it until she'd embraced me.
"I'm so sorry this is happening to you," she whispered.
I didn't reply. I was afraid of losing control of my emotions if I did.
"Irmão!" Nick called out, thankfully ending my poignant moment with his wife. I glanced up and looked across the room to see Nick waving at me from over the low wall surrounding his workstation near the back of the shop. "I'm back here."
Holly released me, and followed me across the black and white checked floor toward her husband. I always seemed to forget how flashy Nick's shop was compared to mine, with its electric blue walls, black leather furniture, white trim, and the expanse of flames painted across the front of the reception desk. It made one hell of a statement, and certainly demanded attention. It suited him perfectly.
When I stopped next to Nick's station, Holly announced she was heading back to the office to get some paperwork done. She laid a comforting hand on my arm for a second as she walked past me, and I nodded at her. Then I took a few steps into Nick's work area, and peered over his shoulder where he was sitting. He was just finishing up drawing a tattoo onto a sheet of transfer paper.
"That's perfect, Nick," I said softly as I stared at it. "Perfect."
He nodded with a pleased smile, then motioned toward his tattoo chair. "Have a seat."
I pulled my T-shirt off over my head and sat down. We sat in silence for a while as Nick slipped on some gloves and set up. He cleaned my skin, transferred the image onto the left side of my chest, then readied his tattoo gun. I'd never planned on getting a tattoo on my chest. I was vain enough with my appearance that I liked the way the expanse of bare muscle looked framed by my tattooed arms and shoulders. However, with what was going on in my life right now and the uncertainty of my future, I needed this more than I cared to admit.
Nick met my eyes when he was ready to start, his brows rising questioningly. I nodded once firmly. When the needles hit my skin, it instantly calmed me. It gave me something else to focus on besides the maelstrom of pain inside me, because that's what I was feeling more than anything right now. Pain. I hurt because I'd lost my dignity. I hurt because I'd lost my good reputation. I hurt because the things I loved most might be taken from me against my will, my shop and mostly my Jenny. It was becoming too much to bear. So instead I focused on the sharp bite of the needles cutting into my skin, and I focused on the familiar buzz of the tattoo gun. They both comforted me.
I watched Nick work, mesmerized as always by his talent to recreate anything in exact detail on the skin that was his canvas. He'd never gone to art school like I did. He didn't need it. He had an inherent gift that I'd never had. Shading, balance, color, composition, he instinctively understood all of them. I'd always been envious. I wanted to live up to his example and had worked hard to accomplish these things for myself.
"I never dreamed that what I taught you would lead to this," Nick suddenly said softly as he continued working. "I taught you shibari to teach you restraint and self-control, to help you break free from the anger that consumed you. I never meant for something like this to happen." He pulled the needles away from my skin and met my eyes. "I do not regret teaching it to you since you needed it, but I cannot help but feel responsible somehow." He made a pained expr
ession. "Desculpe-me. I am very sorry, irmão."
"Everything you've taught me helped me make myself into the man I am today," I told him with as much sincerity as I could muster. "I don't regret any of it either. I'd have ended up in prison long ago if not for you, brother. So I don't accept your apology, because you have absolutely nothing to be sorry for."
He nodded with a soft understanding smile, then got back to work, changing the subject to his daughter and her recent engagement, and his son's plans for after he graduated from high school. Holy hell, it was good to talk about something normal, and by the time he finished my tattoo, I almost felt normal again too.
"Alright, irmão," Nick announced as he pulled the tattoo gun away and smiled in satisfaction at his work. "It's done." He scooted backwards on his chair, so I could stand.
I stepped over to the tall mirror mounted on the wall of his workstation. My eyes drifted down to the brand-new ink over my heart. "Perfect," I murmured softly. Emotion welled up inside me as I stared at the image I'd sketched of my gorgeous Jenny sleeping amid a bed of flowers and vines. No matter what happened, no matter how this nightmare unfolded, I'd always have Jen with me now. Forever.
I looked at Nick through the mirror as he came to stand next to me. "Thank you, Nick," I told him in a voice thick with emotion.
"It was my pleasure." He smiled warmly. "I told you it would make a perfect tattoo."
He said as much when he walked in and saw it the other day. He'd taken a picture of it with his phone and told me he'd have it for me when I was ready. I'd shaken my head at him at the time, telling him I had no intention of getting another tattoo anytime soon, but he managed to plant the idea in my head. As I stared at Jen's flawless face inked on my chest, I was happy that he did.
I left not long after that since they were about to open, and I didn't want to deal with anyone else right now. Especially, the employees I used to work with. I wasn't really sure where I was going, but a long ride seemed like a fantastic idea. I walked out to my bike and was just about to start the engine when I noticed a woman approaching me. She was tall and athletic with long chocolate brown hair, and large dark-blue eyes. She looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, her pale porcelain skin only marred by the hint of laugh lines and crow's feet. She was dressed in a conservative navy pantsuit.
An Act of Redemption: Order & Chaos Book 3 Page 13
