by Abby Wood
"You breathe, because of me. You get up in the fucking morning, because I'm the one who put you to bed and watched over you all night while you slept." He grunted, straining as he jerked himself.
With each promise, her body accepted her position and screamed yes. She wanted him to stay, to take care of her, to keep her safe, and never leave.
He fisted the root of his cock and whipped his dick across her mouth. She licked her lips, tasting his pre-cum and the tang of blood where her lip hit her eyetooth. Pleasure coiled in her core.
He pulled back. "No. Do not come."
She rocked. The belt pulled on her arms. She ached inside, between her legs, her breasts.
Nathan leaned over, unbuckled her arms from her legs. She fell forward, and he caught her.
Without giving her a chance to move, he scooped her under the arms. She locked her arms around his neck. Her dress got in the way of raising her legs, and she kicked out against his legs trying to find traction.
Nathan tossed her on the bed, and then landed on top of her. Her breath whooshed out, but the pressure. God, the pressure. He was here. He stayed with her.
She squirmed until one leg escaped out from under him, and she hooked the back of his knee. Holding him in place, she grabbed his neck, pulled her head up off the mattress, and captured his mouth.
"Want it rough," he murmured against her lips.
She sucked at his bottom lip. "Yes. Yes. Yes."
His hand yanked up her dress. A rip zzz'd in the room, and she kicked her other leg to the side, holding him in the V of her legs.
He removed her hands, and clasped them in one of his above her head. While he rolled to the left and without taking her panties off, pulled the material to the side and plunged into her. As if she had a seizure, she rapidly jolted underneath him at the pleasure of having him stretched her.
Searing pain at the intrusion, the force, the size of him added to the intoxication. Unable to move her arms, she bucked underneath him until he fucked her so roughly it left her impaired. She lay there, taking his passion, his anger, his attention and soaking in the knowledge that he was here. As long as he was inside of her, stroking her, pounding on her, she had proof that she belonged with him.
Her heels dug into the mattress and she screamed. All the frustration boiled inside of her.
Then he was gone. She panicked, pulling her arms. "No…"
He rolled her over, pushed her face into the mattress, heaved her hips into the air, and gathered her hands, putting them underneath her. "Don't move."
Then his hands disappeared, and she turned her head to find out where he was going, and screamed at the electric shock on her butt cheek. She quickly buried her face in the mattress. Oh, my God. He bit me!
Wet warmth stroked the sting off that particular part of her body. She sighed. The difference in touch soothed her into relaxing.
Then his mouth was on her, licking the length of her, from clit to ass. One swipe. Two. Three. She panted against the comforter, reaching for the relief and yet wanting it to last forever. She rocked back against his face in rhythm with his tongue.
"Oh, God." She groaned.
As if punishing her, he stopped and moved away. She lunged backward, searching for contact. Her pussy throbbed, wet and oh-God-so hot. Nathan's hands went around her waist and she found herself on her back, staring up into his face.
"I am the only one who will give you what you want," he said.
She gasped. In that one second, her body vibrating, she believed him. "O-okay."
He held out her hand, and she let him guide her off the bed. He remained sitting on the edge. Sometime between kneeling on the floor and lying on the bed, he'd lost his pants.
With only his white dress shirt, black tie, black socks, and his cock hard and glorious, he lifted her onto his lap. She straddled his legs, planting her knees on the mattress. He removed her hands from his shoulders, stripped off his tie, and bound her arms in front of him.
"Put your hands over my head," he said.
She put her hands behind his neck and watched him undo every button on his shirt. After he pulled the material to the side, he grasped her waist and settled her on his cock. Her head fell back as he filled her.
Instead of letting her move, he simply held her down on him. Together, they still, staring, waiting, until he blinked. Then he held her hip while reaching between them to rub her clitoris. Unable to hold still, she gyrated atop him and stayed fully connected.
"Wrap your legs around my back." He put his mouth on her neck and sucked hard.
As she locked her ankles, her pussy spasmed and this close, this tight, she felt his cock throb inside of her. What he was doing with his hand, his mouth, his body, could've been written in her personal sex manual about everything she enjoyed.
In this position, she couldn't move. She depended on him to give her pleasure.
"I want you to come, doll," he said against her skin.
The vibration of his words, the heat of his breath in her ear, along with his permission, she let her body go. Every muscle constricted, drawing all the blood to between her legs. Her hands went to sleep, her head grew dizzy, and her breath escaped her as she ground against him, riding his cock, rubbing against his fingers.
She panted, unable to stop the direction she was going now that he let her have her freedom. Then her world exploded. Her thighs clamped down on him. Her head went back and she screamed his name as a flood of rejoice coursed through her soul.
His hands palmed her hips, forcing her still. Through the racking shudders and sensitivity of her orgasm, she lost control again when his cock pumped his release in her. He sucked in his breath, his eyes locking with hers. She laid her forehead against his and hung on.
When they both caught their breath, Nathan lifted her off him and laid her down. "I'll be right back."
Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, she snuggled against the pillow and sighed in contentment. Not much later, she became aware of warmth between her legs. She blinked at Nathan, sitting on the edge of the bed, washing her.
He wasn't aware of her watching, and she took the moment to soak him all in. Earlier, his fierceness frightened her, but there was something else there that she saw when he wasn't aware. Softness to his mouth, and concern in his gaze reached out and stroked her heart.
He leaned closer over her lower body. She held her breath, but when he kissed each of the bruises marring her skin, she reached down and slid her fingers through his hair.
"I'm okay," she whispered.
His gaze came toward her and once again, the curtain over his emotions snapped into place. She lost him. She moistened her lips. "Come to bed."
Settled, wrapped in his arms, she closed her eyes again. In the dark, she found enough bravery to accept what she wanted. "Nathan?"
"Hm?"
She held his arms to her bare chest. "I'll do what you want me to do," she whispered.
Afraid of losing him to the side he kept to himself when they weren't having sex; she was determined to give him permission to use her as he wanted. To disobey him was too big of a risk. She couldn't lose him.
Chapter Eighteen
One of the grocery sacks slipped from Addison's grasp, and she leaned against the door to keep the eggs from breaking. "Nathan!"
He ran around the corner and lunged for the bag. "Got it."
"Whew." She laughed. "Breakfast tomorrow is saved."
He peered inside. "What all did you buy?"
"Everything." She walked past him on the way to the kitchen. "There are more groceries in the car. I took stock of your cabinets last night, and from now on we're eating home at least three nights a week."
After one full week of staying with Nathan every night, she refused to order food in again. She picked the egg carton out of the sack.
He lifted a box of noodles and shook the container. "You like to cook?"
"Yeah." She opened the fridge. "It's relaxing to me and better for us if we stay aw
ay from restaurant food if we can. Haven't you paid attention to the reports? Everyone's cholesterol is sky high these days because of processed and fast food. Think of it as extending your life."
He growled or groaned, she wasn't sure. She turned around. "What?"
"I never think about what'll happen to me tomorrow." He opened up a bag of chocolate chips she'd bought and ripped it open. After pouring some in his mouth, he grinned. "I'm sort of a live for the moment kind of guy."
She hid the hurt his confession caused. "I'll go out and get the other–"
"I'll get the groceries." He dug a few more chocolate bits out of the bag and winked. "I'm hungry. I hope you bought more junk food."
"We're going healthy. I'll get started on dinner once I have everything put away." She carried a sack to the pantry.
Hidden from his view, she stacked the supplies she bought and stood back at the homey scene in front of her. How ironic to plan for a future with Nathan when he had no idea she belonged in his tomorrow. She understood his way of dealing with life and not worrying if he'd clog his arteries, but he wasn't alone anymore. He included her in his day-to-day life and his tomorrow, whether he admitted it or not.
Having never been good enough to please her mom, and denied by her father, she sought someone who wanted to claim her forever. She understood more about why she'd acted positively toward Nathan's treatment toward her. In a sick way, she excused her behavior because the benefits outweighed the bad.
No one touched her growing up. No hugs, no goodnight kisses, no lingering hand on her forehead when she'd gotten sick. Whether Nathan showed her a firm hand or held her tenderly at night, a touch was a touch.
"Hey," he called from the other room.
She walked out of the pantry and shut the door. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah," he said, depositing the sacks on the counter.
"Do you think less of me, I mean when we're not having sex, because I enjoy letting you do whatever you want with me?" She pulled one of the bags closer to her. "Forget that you want me to deal with your temper and the need to have your life just so. I'm talking about if you only knew me as the owner of Carpool Dolls, and you knew some other guy was–"
"There is no other guy in your life," he said.
"I know that. I'm just creating a scene for you to understand what I'm asking. Pretend you knew that Joe Blow smacked me around. Would you still think I'm a successful business owner and respect what I've done in my life?" She removed the produce from the plastic sacks and set the vegetables on the counter by the sink.
"It'd be none of my business." He dug through the bag. "Did you buy any chips?"
"No." She sighed heavily. "The thing is, if I knew…say Joan, Lilly's mom, had a boyfriend and I noticed bruises or heard rumors her male friend hurt her, I'd talk to her. I'd worry. I'd do anything in my power to help her get away from him."
"You wouldn't do a thing, because it's none of your business." He braced his hands on the counter. "I thought we were clear on this particular subject. You won't go back to the camp."
"I know. I did, and I won't go since you promised to check in on them for me, but I want you to think about my question. It has to do with you and me, not Joan. I was only using her as an example." She folded the paper sack.
"There was no question. Our relationship is no one's business. You don't divulge anything about what happens between us to others. I don't see what your problem is," he said.
She took a skillet from the overhead hanger and clanked it against the burner of the stove. "Because it's wrong, Nathan."
He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "It's new. Give me time to show you."
"You keep saying that," she whispered. "I'll never understand. If I fell down and skinned my knee, there's nothing enjoyable about the experience. If a stranger came up and slapped me in the face or tied me up and fucked me, I'd first be shocked, then hurt, and finally scared. I'd run away fast and call the police. God, if one of my clients acted the way you do toward one of my dolls, I'd have him arrested."
"You don't get it, because you've never had someone show you." He nibbled her neck. "What are you doing right now?"
"What?" She shook her head. "I'm talking–"
"Not that. What are you doing with the pan?" he said.
She lifted her hands in a helpless motion. "I'm going to brown the ground beef. We're having tacos."
He pulled her away from the stove. "Later. Right now, I want you to go in my office, go online and look up BDSM, paying clode attention to the S and M."
"I know what that is." She rolled her eyes. "That doesn't tell me why I'm not thinking straight, or why I can be perfectly normal up until now."
He picked up the package of meat, put it on the shelf in the fridge, and closed the door. "Come on, I'll show you."
"This isn't necessary," she muttered, trailing behind him. "You do know there's a club a few blocks from the Pearl District on the other side of the river who cater to couples in the BDSM scene. I'm not one of them. Don't even think about asking me to go with you or force me to have others watch you–"
"That's not funny." He glared over his shoulder. "I don't share. Ever. I'm nothing like them."
"Thank God you have boundaries," she mumbled, sarcastically.
She stood behind him as he powered up the computer and surfed through websites. She couldn't even grasp what she saw or understand the few snatches of writing she caught before he scrolled away. Giving up, she walked to the window and peered out.
From the backside of the house, she had a view of the Willamette River and the Freemont Bridge. Lilly came to mind, and she wondered how the child was fairing. She hoped the antibiotics she received under the counter from the woman's shelter were working.
She'd know more in two days. Nathan promised to visit the camp and check up on Joan and Lilly for her, and explain why she couldn't visit. Maybe Nathan was right, and keeping her distance might draw Joan to the office. She sure hoped so.
"Doll?" He stood and held the chair out for her. "Read this."
She returned to his side, stuck her lower lip out, and blew her hair out of her face. Asking her to read up on a subject that had nothing to do with her was like requesting an atheist to read the bible.
Unless having sex was a sin, which it probably was. At least the kind they had.
"Whatever. I just wish you'd listen to me instead of always trying to show me." She scanned the page, noticing there were no pictures.
At the top of the page, she read 'What is a Sadist?' Shit.
She plopped her elbow on the desk
Halfway through the article, she scrolled further, wanting to know more. Her hand, clammy and shaky, accidently clicked the mouse taking her off the page. Her heart pounded, and she found her way back.
My, God.
A disorder? She scanned the possible causes that would make someone want to control, hurt, and humiliate another person. She pinned a few reasons she could believe caused Nathan to enjoy inflicting pain on her.
The rest were heartbreaking. An early experience with loss, abuse, and frequent exposure to relying on oneself for survival...
Her head hurt for the child inside of Nathan and what he'd gone through to make him need to harm others to feed his psych. She swallowed the lump in her throat.
She came to the end of the page. Sexual gratification, control, and the need to hurt someone either physically or emotionally created a high within the sadist. A nirvana…
She sat back in the chair and let her hands fall in her lap. He needed her.
Not only her, but also what he could do to her. The beatings, the power trips–she sank her head in her hands–the degrading.
She rubbed her face. That explained why he went from cold to hot, and could slap her as well as hold her through the night. But, how could she accept the side of him that was quick to open his hand and slap her or hold her down and take everything from her?
She noticed another window open on t
he computer screen and clicked on it. She read, 'What is a masochist?' Oh, frick. I can't take this.
Detached from learning some people enjoyed pain and got off on someone who'd put them into the position where they have no control, Addison quickly shut down any idea that she was anything like these clinical cases they were talking about. She'd bet her company that not one of the research subjects had the guts to fight and succeed at proving Carpool Dolls was a legitimate business plan and bring it to Forbes attention, or have the drive to succeed when everyone told her to give up. She scoffed.
Masochist seek acceptance. Commonly placed in a position of needing approval, whether from an unemotional parent or lacking a father figure.
She held her breath and scrolled down.
The inability to differentiate between good touch and bad touch, the masochist greedily accepts the pain as love they desperately need. She covered her mouth with her hand. By the time she finished reading the page, she could understand why she'd succumbed to Nathan.
Understand, but not accept.
She raised her gaze and found Nathan standing in the doorway. He stepped forward, and she held up her hand.
She stood. "Please don't…"
He tilted his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. She blew out her cheeks and let the air out. The article was wrong.
Nathan did nothing to humiliate her. She'd humiliated herself.
"Addy." His gaze softened. "Talk to me."
She shook her head. "Not now. I'm going to make us dinner."
"We need to discuss what's going on." His body stiffened. "I could make you talk if you refuse."
She dipped her chin. "Yes, you could. I'm asking you not to. Let me…soak in all the information first."
He nodded, and she sensed it took everything he had not to use his hand to get what he wanted from her. "Later then."
She walked past him. Each step more painful than the first. She needed the distance, and she hated that she wanted to run back to him and throw herself at his feet.
Chapter Nineteen
Nathan waited until seven o'clock to arrive at Carpool Dolls. He'd asked Addison to trust him, but after three days of waiting to talk over what she'd learned on the website, she still hadn't opened up to him.
