by Christy Poff
With an ear tuned to the sounds coming from the bathroom, he quickly scanned the files paying close attention to the positioning of the lash marks on each of the victims as compared to what he'd seen on Ainsley. He shook his head hating man's inhumanity to man. He looked at a photo of one victim then quickly found the others, finding the link between all the crimes.
"Shit!” he cursed. In a quick few moments, he'd halfway solved the case or cases—Brett convinced they had a serial killer on their hands. It seemed Holmes had been extremely busy going to several cities then repeating his trail anywhere from twelve to eighteen months later before he went after his victims a second time and killing them. Why did he let Ainsley survive?
* * * *
Brett put the files in his briefcase, locking it. The last thing they needed would be Ainsley's seeing it. He couldn't tell her until he had more information knowing she'd ask questions and wanting to have answers for her. He wanted to be positive about his conclusions while keeping her as calm as he could. Her health came first—no matter what. You think of that now...
On his way into the bathroom, he stepped out of his sweats then joined her in the oversized bathtub. He felt the ripple of the water when she moved her legs apart. He slipped between them, their bodies touching, causing the temperature in the room to intensify.
"Are you all right?” he asked.
"Good, but I'll feel much better if you thrust that magnificent cock of yours into me."
"Oh, Ainsley, you do know how to talk to the one man totally devoted to you."
"You're no slacker either, slave."
He grinned, his thumbs playing over her nipples.
"Tell me what you want."
"You know what I want and don't you dare hold back."
"Yes, ma'am."
* * * *
"Brett?"
"Yes,” he said, pulling Ainsley closer. They'd ordered room service then he took her to bed, making slow, torturous and passionate love to his intended bride.
"We really need to clarify something."
"What?"
"Are you still interested in a Dom/sub relationship?"
"Very much so, Mistress. Why?"
"Because we have evolved into an odd..."
"I don't care. I want you in my life any damned way I can get you. I feel physically devastated whenever we are not together. I want to do anything I can to pleasure you because it truly makes me happy."
"We definitely have an unconventional life together."
"Let me ask you something. Is a Dom/sub relationship conventional?"
"To me—very,” she answered. “There is discipline in my life because I am in control. There is a trust—an unbelievable amount of something every couple needs in order to have a life with each other."
"Do you trust me, Ainsley?"
"Yes,” she answered without hesitation.
"Do you love me?” he asked. For some reason, he needed the reassurance.
"Yes, Brett, I love you without question."
"I love you, too."
"What do we do?"
"I leave it up to you. I give you complete control of my entire being. I want you, Mistress."
"I want you, too. I just can't figure out how we got to this place in time."
"It did happen fast."
"I hope it wasn't too quick."
"Mistress, it doesn't matter. You are the only woman in my life. I need you and what we have together."
Brett kissed her, their tongues dancing. Rolling onto his back, Ainsley went with him. She straddled his hips, her pussy wet and ready to take him.
"I want to ride you, Brett."
"Then, by all means, do it. I want my cock embedded in your sweet heat for the rest of my life."
"Music to my ears.” Ainsley took him into her, smiling when she felt him swell inside her.
"You are my Dominant, Ainsley. I will do anything to keep you in my life."
"All right, I want you to present yourself."
Brett eased his cock from her soaked pussy and slid from the bed, standing beside it as he'd been instructed to do during their first meeting. She eased seductively off the bed, went to the bureau and pulled several things from the drawer, taking a deep breath. Silently walking behind him, she slipped Sherpa-lined manacles on his wrists, smiling at his quick intake of breath.
"Turn around."
"Yes, ma'am,” he said, obeying her.
"Do you honestly want to be restrained, with absolutely no control over your body?"
"Yes,” he replied without hesitation.
She pulled out a metal O-ring with two thin leather laces attached. She slid the ring along the length of his relaxed cock, which swelled in her hands. Once she had the ring in place, she expertly bound his balls then stood back surveying the finest specimen of male beauty she'd ever seen. And I pray he's mine forever...
"Tell me how you feel."
"I feel like I'm on an aroused roller coaster, only you won't allow me to come down to earth."
"Do you feel any less of a man right now?"
"No, Mistress."
"And if I gag you? Add a blindfold? Shackles to your feet?"
"I trust you, Mistress,” he croaked. “Do what you want, please,” he begged.
"Outstanding,” she whispered running her long polished nails over his hard body. “What are your scars from, slave? Another mistress?” she asked, amused by his body's reaction to her question.
"No, ma'am, a mugging in New York.” How can I tell her it was payback for a report I did on one of the lesser Mafia bosses when I've yet to tell her what I do? After a report he'd aired, the Don had several of his mechanics beat their thanks into Brett's body—a warning not to mess with them again.
"And this one?"
"If Mistress doesn't mind, it's still too personal. I haven't come to terms with what happened yet."
"I see,” she said, tracing the scar where a bullet invaded his upper left shoulder. “Another woman?"
"No, ma'am,” he answered, thinking back to his time overseas in Bosnia. He had yet to get the images of that war-torn area out of his mind, especially the soldier who died in his arms. The corporal had been ordered to give him and one other reporter armed protection. A sniper killed the corporal and the other man while leaving Brett for dead. As soon as he could, he checked both men, the corporal barely alive. Brett grabbed him and his gun then dragged them off to the side near a tree. Brett radioed for help but the corporal died in his arms with one last wish—Tell Mom I'm sorry and I love her. As soon as he could, Brett went to Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania to see the boy's mother and walked away a changed man. Corporal Will O'Brien gave his life for Brett's and died at the age of twenty-one.
"Slave, where did you go?"
"Forgive me, Mistress. The memories still overwhelm me."
"I see,” she said. Standing in front of him, she locked gazes with him. “Do you wish to continue?"
"Yes, Mistress, I do."
"Very well,” she said. She pulled out a hood of soft black leather and very intimidating. “Do you mind a hood?"
"Ma'am?"
"I wish to have you wear this. It will blind you to what I am doing and keep you quiet using a mouthpiece attached on the inside."
"Yes, ma'am, let me try,” he said, his insecurity appearing.
"Do you have a safe word?"
"No."
"Do you wish one?"
"Yes."
"And it is?"
"Stop."
"Very well,” she said. Carefully, she placed the hood over his head, his nose the only thing still evident. “Are you ready?” she asked. His nod sent heat through her while she slowly pulled the zipper down.
"You are amazing, slave,” she said, flicking her tongue over his lips. “I am now placing the bit gag in place. Do you wish to go on?"
"Yes, Mistress, I'm at your mercy."
"There will be no mercy considering what I have planned for you."
His groan told her every
thing she needed to know. His cock throbbed at attention, more so when she trailed her nails along his chest and teased his nipples.
"Very nice,” she complimented. Ainsley shocked him, taking his swollen shaft deep into her throat. Without touching any more of his gorgeous body, she went down on him at a feverish pace. His body shook but she refused to ease up. Ainsley wanted him to experience this without explanations, warnings or expectations. She wanted unbridled emotion when he came.
She could tell he was ready to burst but she kept him on edge a little while longer. He whimpered just before he exploded into her throat, filling her with his hot semen. Her hands went to his balls, massaging them, draining them. Ainsley peered up the length of his body and saw Brett struggling with the gag, needing to cry out from what he'd just gone through.
"Shall I stop?” she asked, Brett feverishly shaking his head while he tried to tell her, a moan the only thing he could manage. “Now, you will do exactly as I command. Remember, I will not hurt you or let harm come to you."
Brett nodded, his body clenching around the idea. She led him across the room to where a sturdy table sat in front of a curtained window. The thought of having Brett fuck her while the moonlight bathed them made her body ache. She couldn't wait, forcing her body to behave.
Ainsley turned her back to him while holding his gorgeous cock in her hand. She lay over the table, guiding it to her pussy.
"You will sink your cock into my pussy and blindly fuck me.” A groan and a mumble served as his answer. “Good."
Moments later, his cock filled her. Her hands clenched the table for support as blind brutal power took her over the edge, making her cry out. She felt herself drown him unsure whether it was her nectar or his cum dripping from her sated pussy and down her thighs. He fell over her, exhausted, beads of perspiration between them. The feel of his chest against her as he tried to take deep breaths caused more heat, her body wanting him again.
"You're perfect."
* * * *
When Ainsley told Brett to present himself, his mind raced while his body felt relief course through him when she didn't ask for explanations. She'd given him the same compassion and understanding he had given her earlier about her back.
The feel of the manacles on his wrists sent shockwaves through him but nowhere near what scorched his body when she put the cock ring on him before binding his balls. He thought he'd been given a gift to be this aroused but found she had more in store for him.
She showed him a soft leather hood, explained it then put it on his head. No longer able to see her luscious body, his imagination took over, his cock hard and insistent. He took the bit in his mouth and inhaled deeply. Never had he been on such an emotional or sexual high but he loved it. If I die right now...
But it didn't end there. Her velvety lips around his cock sent him reeling. She went down on him, his body out of control while under hers. Shaking, he exploded into her throat, while his teeth held onto the bit. He growled, the only way he could let her know what she did to him not only sated him but amazed him.
The sensation of being led across the room by his cock made him harder—if at all possible—while his mind felt disoriented. The restraint the ring had on him drove him completely insane. The inability to see threw him but he placed his complete trust into his mistress's hands. Heat raced between them, Brett concentrating totally on Ainsley.
"You will sink your cock into my pussy and blindly fuck me,” she commanded.
The words seared his mind. His body craved hers and the second his cock's head touched her pussy, nature took over. He thrust into her, pounding her sweet pussy without mercy. His mind raced, a part of him knowing he should be careful with her while the rest of his body overruled his sanity, his pace feverishly increasing.
Unaware of what she bent over, he didn't care. He had to obey her and he did. His cock slammed into her while lightning bolts flashed in his mind. He felt as if he'd been lifted off the ground, no longer able to find support for his—his what—he no longer knew or cared as long as he had Ainsley. His release exploded into her, fireworks going off in his mind. He threw his head back, trying to scream, his hands clenching into fists and trying to break free of the manacles. Spent, he fell over her trying to breathe, swimming in perspiration. He barely heard her reactions.
"You are perfect."
The words flashed in his mind along with the realization he wanted more of what she'd just given him. Ainsley Reynolds thought he—Brett Quincannon—was perfect. The thought warmed him as he made a decision about the rest of his life.
I will walk away from the job—anything to be with Ainsley every second of every day for the rest of my life.
Chapter 7
Hours after they left Beverly Hills, Brett and Ainsley went straight into San Francisco to her lawyer's office. A sitting judge on the state bench, His Honor Joseph Allan kept his practice for a select few—all very close and dear friends of his.
"Joseph, thank you for handling everything on such short notice."
"The copies of your recent blood work-ups helped tremendously. Brett, it's good to meet you."
"Thank you, Your Honor, my pleasure."
"Could I speak with you for a moment?"
"Sure,” Brett said, kissing Ainsley before he joined the judge in his inner office. He steeled himself for the ongoing lecture. How Ainsley hasn't found out yet is beyond me.
Judge Allan got straight to the heart of the matter.
"I've seen your work. It's very good..."
"Thank you, sir, and no, she doesn't know yet. Yes, I'm trying to get the network to retract the report and air a new story making things right and yes, I love her and I will protect her."
Allan looked at Brett and smiled.
"Good."
"Now I need to know the name of an extremely trustworthy police detective I can meet with..."
"Why?"
"I'm working with a New York detective and...” Brett explained everything to him about Peter Holmes ending with his suspicions.
Concerned over Ainsley's safety, the judge called Inspector Richard Marcus of the SFPD Special Investigations Unit. He put Brett on the phone with him, Brett promising to meet with him two days later at the SIU office. They agreed they had the time for Brett and Ainsley to get settled in.
"Thank you, Your Honor."
"Joseph, please."
"Thank you for that, too."
"Promise me one thing."
"I will not hurt her—at least not deliberately. I can't guarantee how she'll react when she learns the truth."
"That's good enough for me and she won't hear it from me,” Allan said, shaking Brett's hand. “Consider that your retainer. Now, go bring your bride in. We've got a wedding to pull off."
* * * *
"Welcome home, my gorgeous slave."
Brett looked around the first floor of Ainsley's San Francisco home, awed by its beauty—a true statement about its owner.
"This is amazing."
"And it's now your home, too."
"Our home, Mistress."
"Then I want you naked."
Brett smiled, obeying her desires. He went to unzip his fly but stopped when his cell phone rang.
"Quincannon ... Shit ... Thanks, Jim."
"What's wrong, Brett?"
"Ainsley, it's time I told you something."
"What?"
"That was a friend of mine who is a New York City detective. We've been doing some investigating and..."
"And what, Brett? You're scaring me."
"I'm sorry. I don't mean to but..."
"Tell me,” she urged.
"We've concluded Peter Holmes is guilty of a murder in New York the night before I left to come out here. We have him linked to several others, plus the latest one they found in DC."
"How?” she asked, the color all but gone from her face.
"Every victim found had lash marks exactly like yours. Two sets—the first one twelve to eighteen months older th
an the second."
"But..."
"The key to this is every one of his victims looks exactly like you."
"What?” she asked, horrified by what he'd just told her.
"I figure he's acting out his anger at you by repeating what he's done to you on others."
"But I'm still alive."
"For now and it scares me,” Brett stated. “Ainsley, I swore the first time I talked with you on-line that, no matter what, I'd protect you. I pray I don't fail because if anything happens to you, I..."
"Shh, unless you want restraint?” she asked, trying to lighten the situation. She knew the seriousness of it but Brett would do neither one of them any good if he remained unnerved.
"How can you be so damned calm?"
"I'm your Dominant. I have to keep you calm and focused so you can do what you swore to me you would do. I can't let you go off half-cocked. I need you to be grounded. My God, if I lose you..."
Brett yanked her to him, holding her tighter than he realized.
"Sweetheart, you are my wife, my mistress and a huge part of my life, especially after the other night. I refuse to let anyone take this away from us. If that bastard touches you again or even breathes the same air you do, he'd better hope the cops get him first or I will kill him."
"Brett, I..."
His mouth covered hers, his kiss deeply passionate yet rough while emotionally, he needed to be in control.
"Ainsley, I love you."
"I love you, too, but I'm scared."
"So am I."
"Can we survive this? I mean..."
"I'd die before I'd let anything happen to you. You are way too precious to me. No woman has ever done to me what you do and I admit I need you more than I ever imagined needing anyone."
"Come with me."
Ainsley led him upstairs to what Brett assumed was one of the guestrooms. Once the door closed behind him, he looked around, stunned. He'd heard about playrooms when he researched his so-called report but he never saw one in person.
"Well?"
"I'm amazed."
"I can see,” she said, amused as she picked up a suede-tipped flogger. “Now, did I not tell you to get naked?” she asked.
