RequiredSurrender

by Riley Murphy

  Chapter Twenty

  Jo walked in. And dressed the way she was, completely covered with a pair of tight denim low riders, a crisp white blouse cinched by the sexiest ivory satin under-the-bust corset Ted had ever seen and makeup done to supermodel perfection, he decided she looked like Colin’s Jessica Rabbit avatar. And for some reason that really pissed him off.

  He gave himself a shake and sprang into action. With one arm scooped around the naked and kneeling Ruth, he half lifted, half dragged her with him as he swiveled in his chair and turned his back to both the door and Jo. She’d come armed—he looked down at Ruth—and now he was as well. Literally. Maybe his pointed dismissal of her would get her to wise up and move on instead of trying to challenge him the way he guessed she was going to. Because in his present mood with fury building, this evening could turn into a nightmare neither one of them would ever forget.

  She didn’t leave as he hoped. Instead she came into the room. He could tell. The sudden quiet combined with the increasing tension indicated as much. So, in his mind, he had two options. He could either confront her head-on and ask her to leave, or he could torture her until she gave up and left of her own accord. He pulled Ruth more firmly into the V of his legs. Why the hell was he even entertaining the first option?

  “Lean back,” he ordered and when Ruth did as she was told and pressed her back into his crotch, he frowned. Not from the sudden warmth emanating from her, but the instant cold front that arrived beside him in the form of long legs wrapped in well-worn denim and cradled in a pair of fire-engine-red five-inch stilettos.

  Oh hell no, she wasn’t tapping one of those, was she?

  He could have looked up, but he didn’t. Instead he reached down and brushed his hand back and forth across Ruth’s fully erect nipples. He felt like shit using her this way, but he’d purposely picked her because of her strict code of no emotional attachment to a scene providing the Dom got her off. He was planning to get her off big-time tonight, and Jo was going to watch it if she had the guts to stick around. Maybe he’d—

  He snapped back. If she had the guts? Shit.

  “You weren’t invited to play, Jo. Get your hands off her.” He made sure his voice was calm, but the words firm because if she didn’t do what he said immediately he’d be forced to react.

  “Not until she moves away from you.”

  Ted had kept his eyes on Jo’s fingers twined in Ruth’s hair, but when he saw her grip tighten and her intent became clear, he looked up. “Let go of her.”

  There was the briefest flicker of fear in her smoky eyes. A moment of uncertainty as her common sense no doubt warred with that reckless side of her nature. When the gleaming sparkle returned he knew which side won. “When. She. Moves.”

  He didn’t want to respond to her on any level other than a verbal one, but his Dom blood raged in the face of her challenge. The fact that she was wearing the blouse she’d had on the day in the interrogation room didn’t help the situation. Images of what he’d done to her played in his mind and inspired him.

  Inspired? That was understating how he felt at the moment, as the collar and cuffs he hadn’t cut off her got his possessive flags flying. He’d asked himself more than once why he’d let her leave that night while still wearing his metal. And every time that smug-ass voice inside answered, “Because you’re not ready to give her up.”

  Damn.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and studied her while the tension in the room increased. Everyone was watching them. Waiting. Hell, even Ruth was anxious and unsure. Her hand was like a vise at the bottom of his pant leg. Where was Jo’s fear?

  “Take your hand out of her hair. Now.” He glared while he slowly narrowed his eyes.

  After a tense few seconds he actually heard her swallow before she said, “No.”

  It was good to know she was scared shitless. He sighed. “What’s it going to take for you to realize there’s no place for you here?”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “It’s true. I thought we were doing good together, but you found the need to lie to me a second time. I don’t abide liars so we’re done. It’s over. Leave.”

  “No.”

  He was glad she took her hand off Ruth, but the expression on her face had him worried. “Jo.”

  “I’ll do whatever you want. Anything. Only let me prove to you I can be trusted. Give me another chance.”

  He was sure his eyes gleamed.

  “I swear, I’ll do anything.”

  Now he knew his look burned. The offer too tempting…because he still wanted her. Bad.

  “Please.”

  He stared and for a suspended second there was only the two of them. No one else. “Anything?”

  “Everything.”

  That soft whisper stroked him as an idea began to take shape. He could give it one last shot and demand that piece of her she’d been holding back. Yeah, and this time she’d have no out unless he gave it. And no kid gloves either. He’d completely own her body and soul, because if he weren’t mistaken, she was standing here selling that soul to the devil. A demon who had the chance to begin this new brand of ownership by stripping her down emotionally. Pushing her to her limits. Breaking her so she’d never be able to break him again.

  “Go to the wall over there. Right where I can see you. Take down your pants to your knees. Panties too, if you’re wearing any. I want your palms flat and legs spread as far as your clothing will allow. Display yourself for me, while I decide how you should be punished for such bad behavior.”

  He let out a silent breath when she obeyed and sucked it right back in as she did exactly as he told her. Only instead of the usual frisk position he was expecting with ass bared and displayed, she presented in a forward position. With her pants and panties down as he’d said, and her arms braced back with palms flat, she was a sight. But when she flexed her hips forward, causing the previously obscuring shirt tails to part like a set of silken drapes and expose her smooth-as-glass mound, his heart rate shot up.

  Right there. Right in the center of that delectable flesh she had a new henna inked. No design this time, just two words.

  Ted Basel’s.

  Fuck. He silently read his name over three times before he tore his gaze away and looked up at her.

  “That’s a pretty invitation.”

  Ted ignored Dillon’s comment and tried to stay calm and focused. Easy to do if she didn’t taunt him by pivoting, and then devouring him with a look that flipped all his bad switches and dared him to attack. Battle from a distance.

  Without taking his eyes off her, he curled down and brushed his hand through Ruth’s hair. Gently straightening the mess Jo had made of it. When he heard Ruth sigh and felt her relax he knew he had to stop this. Ruth had no part of anything between them.

  “Thank you, Ruth. But unfortunately I’m going to have to take a pass with you tonight.” When she blinked up at him he smiled. “No worries, I think Dillon may need a little sub attention.”

  When Ruth nodded and went to crawl away his friend didn’t hesitate. He got up to get supplies from the various baskets on the sexual condiment counter.

  “Hey, Dillon,” Ted called even as he turned to look at Jo again. “Do me a favor and grab me one with a lube packet too.” He purposely raked his gaze up and down Jo from head to toe, before he added, “Make that two things of lube.” He dug in his bag and took out the vibrating bullet, and when Dillon tossed him the packs he said, “Thanks.”

  He stood and stuffed the foils in his back pocket, the bullet in the front one and collected his magic marker. He’d been right on the money with the color. It was going to be a perfect match.

  “Eyes up, Jo. Stare at the ceiling until I tell you otherwise.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  He waited for her gaze to shift, and when it did, he dropped down on one knee and took his time writing two words beneath his name as elegantly as the henna penmanship above. “There.” He threw the marker on the floor and st
ood.

  “Eyes down. All the way down, Jo.” She gasped when he yanked her by the arms and used his hands and feet to roughly readjust her until she was turned with nose to drywall, both arms up over her head and her legs spread as wide as her bunched pants would allow.

  “Get your ass out. Sell it to me.”

  She pushed back and he said, “More. That’s right.” He leaned down to whisper, “Are you ready to be a good little whore for me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes?” He smacked her ass, which made her jump.

  “Yes, Master.”

  “I expect you to take what I’m going to do to you without complaint. If it proves to be too much for you say your safe word and I’ll let you leave…for good. Understood?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  His plan was to purposely draw out her dread. Make her fully aware of what he had in mind to do and give her ample opportunity to back out. Really? If that’s what you’re intending to do why did you bring the bullet with you? He pushed that smug voice out of his head and systematically went through the setup.

  Pressing himself against her ass, he let her feel him undo his zipper. He stretched his fly open, scraping the material across each of her cheeks. After he collected the foils he lifted his cock out of his pants and let it bounce on her twice before he tugged on the rubber.

  He waited for her to stop shivering then he tore open the lube packets and drenched himself first before spreading her ass to oil her there.

  “I’m going to bury myself inside you here.” He wedged the side of his hand in her crease and pushed. “Would you like that?”

  Silence.

  His heart slammed against his rib cage, and that voice inside his head prompted. Bullet. No, the plan wasn’t to entice her into doing this with him. The plan was…

  Torched, because the bullet was in his hand and that hand had reached around and descended right between her legs. “Damn, you’re good and wet already.”

  The second he got the vibrator on her, she sank into the wall with a sigh.

  Fuck.

  He growled in her ear, “You’re not going to like this. I promise you.” But to counter this prediction he carefully, expertly circled the vibrator over her sensitive clit again and again as he crowded her. Just the way she liked to be crowded.

  “I will.”

  What kind of sick bastard was he to do this? He should be scaring her away because he was dangerous in his present state, not luring her in. “Say it. Say ‘I’ll be your whore’.”

  “I’ll be your whore, Master.”

  “Keep repeating it and don’t come. I want you dripping with need. Sweating for release. Prove to me what kind of an excellent whore you are and maybe I’ll make you mine.”

  “I’m your whore, Master.”

  “Louder.”

  “I want to be your whore, Master.”

  As she continued to speak, Ted ignored her mashing up the phrase and went after her. With one hand between her legs he used his other to guide his cock between her cheeks. Rubbing and stroking her delicate flesh with his hardness. Lightly skimming over her opening with each pass until she shuddered and shuddered some more.

  “Don’t come,” he ordered, wanting his words to sound harsh, but they didn’t. “Relax.”

  When she sank deeper against the wall, he angled his cock head, touching it against her entrance, and waited a ten count before he pushed to increase pressure until he slid a little ways into her. Immediately her muscles clenched, trying to keep him out.

  “Use your safe word.”

  She didn’t.

  “Have some caution. You can’t want this.”

  She continued chanting those words that now ran one in to the other. Almost indistinguishable. Clearly she was prepared to go through with this. Why wouldn’t she? You’re holding her on the brink of ecstasy, you evil bastard.

  “Shhh, stop talking and relax. Focus and expect that this is going to hurt. I want you to turn the pain into pleasure and if you can’t do that, use your safe word, understood?”

  “Yes,” she panted, “Master.”

  Ted knew he had a captive audience behind them. In between Jo’s heavy pants he could hear others breathing just as hard. Not that he blamed them. His cock was aching to slide up inside her so bad he was nearly drooling at the prospect. You’re supposed to be reassuring her that she won’t like this. Punish her another way.

  “Don’t fight me. Open yourself up.” He bent and nuzzled his jaw between her chin and collarbone and she immediately responded. You cruel bastard. Don’t seduce her. Scare her away. “No tension. Relax.”

  A minute ticked by while all he did was repetitively bite the sensitive cord of her neck. Over and over and harder and harder until she shook and groaned. Creaming the bullet with a fresh wave of silky hot wetness.

  “No coming. Push back. Easy,” he breathed in her ear. “That’s right. God, you’re tight.”

  She drew in a breath.

  “Relax.”

  Jesus, she did. With a sigh she collapsed against the wall and he followed her. Then with one thrust, he was buried right in deep. Now he was left drawing in air as her inner muscles clamped around him like a velvet fist.

  He shifted the bullet that was so slick it was hard to hold and taunted her swollen flesh with it. “Pant through it. Deep. Even. That’s a girl. Three more pushes. You can do it…”

  “I—”

  “Two.” He ground into her.

  “Oh God.”

  “Breathe. Push back. All the way back until you feel my balls crushing against you,” he whispered. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

  She moaned, “I—”

  “Only one more, Jo. One more full sweep in…Mmm, this is nice.” He flexed against her. “Let go. Come for me. Come for me now.”

  “I—” Her tone was strained. Desperate. He thought maybe she was fighting off the urge she had to do as he told her but then he was completely stunned as she cried out, “I love you, Master.”

  The echo of those long-awaited words rushed through him, even as he grunted and let the heavy inner contractions pull him in tighter when she came. His heart hammered as primal satisfaction filled him. He fisted a hand in her hair and tugged her head to the side so he could see her. “You gorgeous, fucking whore. That’s right. Say it again.”

  “I love you, Master.”

  And the moment she started to quiver with aftershock shudders he did what he’d been dying to do since he recognized the blouse and remembered that scene from a lifetime ago. He dropped the bullet and shifted back before rocking forward. Slow at first. Calm and patient as the sweat beaded his forehead and his every instinct to ram and claim had to be tamped down. It wasn’t until she bucked back aggressively that he let go of his restraint and allowed his baser needs take over. Her gentle submission unfurling to open under his rough pounding was humbling. But before that thought could take root he lost himself in the moment with her. Riding her hard and without mercy. She was his and he was going to prove it to her.

  Time and space went by the wayside. The concepts lost all meaning as every ingrained taboo deserted her. She had no shame, fear or humiliation as she welcomed the pressure of him invading her body this way. She was on fire and loving the burn. The ever-shifting degrees of pain challenged her at every turn, yet she breathed through them all until the white-hot flare of sensation transcended into a fuzzy warm glow. The one time she opened her eyes she saw sparks that turned to a cloudy haze, bringing a sense of inner peace. A calm that curled and unraveled within her at languid speed. Filling and welcoming her to a darker side of herself that had no will and no desire to be anywhere else than here with him. He didn’t take what he wanted from her because she was gladly giving it to him.

  When he fisted his hand in her hair this time and pulled she moved with him. Easily with total acquiescence. She was his to command and guide.

  “You sweet fucking whore.”

  Those words touched her skin and se
nt a thrill ricocheting through her. She wanted to be his whore. She wanted to be anything he wanted her to be. “Yes, yes.”

  He consumed her. His hot breath at her neck. The heat and moisture of his skin against hers. The smell of him. The flavor of him as she imagined him to taste all the days they’d been apart. This is what she needed. He was her anchor. The one person strong enough to push her to the edge only to save her from it.

  “Come for me again, whore. Do it. I want everyone to see what a good slut you are for me.”

  The words had no meaning. It was the desire he had and what he wanted of her that she staked claim to. Embracing the deepest part of herself. The loneliest place she’d coveted and kept secret. Locked away from the rest of world until now when she gave that spot one last hug and then with vivid clarity, she opened for him. Unequivocally and completely. Screaming as she came, “I love you, Master.” And riding the heavy waves that rolled through her. One peak, an ebb to peak again. Over and over she climbed and fell. Vicious and soothing at once.

  “I love you,” she whispered again and again until finally the experience took her outside herself. Away from her critical thinking mind and slammed her into a space that was devoid of sounds, smells and physical consequence. She was numb. Floating. Available to him in such a way it should have terrified her, but it didn’t. Instead she embraced the soul-shattering experience. “I love you, Master.”

  “Jesus fuck.”

  She knew that he pounded into her. That he bit her back, pulled her hair and crushed her as he forced her hip bones to heavily beat against the wall, but it was okay. It was better than okay. For the first time in her life she felt. Truly felt connected to herself, which gave her the freedom to connect with him on an intoxicating level.

  She didn’t know how long she’d stayed clinging to the wall once he’d finished. Slowly, very slowly the sounds around her began to trickle in, and when he moved and the cooler air touched her hot skin, she shivered to a higher level of consciousness.

  He was leaving her. That was her first thought. “D-don’t l-leave m-me.”