by Anna Antonia
“And because I don’t want my sweet girl to be fussy and cranky tonight.” I brushed her forehead with my palm and dropped a small kiss onto her puckered lips. “I want you happy and that can’t happen if you’re too tired. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” she answered with an angelic sigh.
Turning off the lights, I made to leave the room when I heard the tiny sniffle followed by another. I walked back to the bed in two steps only to find Risa buried under the covers.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
I fought the violent urge to rip away the comforter. “You’re lying to me, Risa.”
“I’m not! I’m just…”
I waited for her to finish. When it became apparent she had no intention of elaborating, I inhaled, closed my eyes, and sought patience. Careful to keep my voice even and soft, I asked, “Risa? Why are you crying?”
“I don’t know!”
The terrible whine ended in a choked sob.
It hit me what had happened.
“I’m not rejecting you, Risa.”
Silence broken by the waves of her grief buffeted my ears. “Risa, did you hear me? I’m not rejecting you.” She shifted beneath the mound of crisply laundered cotton. I leaned down to catch her wet whisper.
“Yes, you are.”
“I don’t lie.” I rubbed the area covering her back. “Why don’t you believe me?” I exhaled in frustration when she wiggled away. “Risa, stop it.”
“No!”
It would set a dangerous precedent if I gave into her tantrum. Things were too new between us to lose discipline. I knew it yet the idea of Risa in this kind of pain crushed me. I regarded her for a moment before settling on my next move.
This is all I know how to do.
“Little girl, you are not getting a single cookie tonight.”
Risa paused long enough in her weeping to warble, “What?” before squeaking loudly.
I tore away the blankets and hauled her over my knee. Risa’s lovely round bottom clenched in anticipation of my heavy hand.
I did not disappoint.
Letting up only when her flesh matched the angry red fog in my brain, I clasped her shoulders and flipped her onto the bed. Risa’s mouth whispered my name when I wrenched her legs apart.
This isn’t how I want to be with her tonight but I can’t help myself. I have no idea why this bothers me.
I deadened my conscience long enough to surrender to animal instinct. My fingers made quick work of belt, button, and zipper.
“Pull it out. Now!”
Risa’s hands scrambled to appease me. I noted her tear-stained cheeks and suffered a noxious mix of guilt, lust and something unidentifiable. Her pain, one directly inspired by me but not of me, needled me to respond viciously in kind.
“Make your pussy nice and wet for me.”
Risa rubbed the engorged head against her slit for several long minutes before angling her hips to let me sink into her.
“Now thank me for letting you feel good even when you’re being so bad.”
Masochistic relief replaced the bleak pain in her voice. “Thank you, Damian. Thank you so very much.”
“You’re welcome, you little bitch.”
I proceeded to slam into her. I fucked Risa, crudely and with little attempt at tenderness. Blind anger plucked my control, unraveling it until there was nothing left but the urge to hurt her.
I didn’t turn my life upside down just for you to behave like this.
Oblivious to my rage or why, Risa grabbed me tightly about my waist and buried her face against my neck. Her chants of “Oh, yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!” along with her raucous laugh of bliss as she came made my stomach clench in ravenous need.
I buried my face into a pillow when I finished, teeth gritted and lips pressed against letting even the smallest whimper out. The customary euphoria of orgasm held a new unwelcome dirtiness.
I hated it.
Risa moaned my name while pressing tiny kisses all along my uncovered neck. “You don’t know how much I needed that. Thank you.”
Her chatter infuriated me for the first time.
I pulled away, needing to put distance between us. I inspected my clothes before deciding they were too soiled to be seen out in public. Risa’s prattle of, “I think I can take a nap now,” and “I can’t wait for dinner,” piled on top of my dirty clothes threatened to break my silence in a very nasty way.
How can you be this blind, Risa?
Tingling began in my fingers and toes, spreading up my limbs, and creating the bizarre sensation of not having control over my body. I blinked several times, fighting a strange weakness that made it hard to concentrate on anything beyond the feelings invading my body.
Am I getting sick?
I watched her climb under the covers and snuggle her way into a comfortable nest. Risa closed her eyes, cutting me off as succinctly as she did when she smiled.
How can you act like you just didn’t manipulate me into doing something I didn’t want to do?
I stalked into the closet. My fingers itched to rip off my clothes and throw them to the ground. Of course, I did no such thing. Instead, I methodically removed my shoes, retying the laces before placing them in their assigned position on the wooden shoe rack.
I took off the rest of my clothes in deliberate order. I hung up the shirt and pants in the designated part of my closet sectioned for the next dry-cleaning trip. I removed my underclothing and replaced them with a fresh undershirt, underwear, and socks. Once dressed in an identical outfit complimented by a charcoal tie, I picked out another pair of highly-polished shoes.
I found no comfort in my familiar routine. Chaos muddied my mind, making it difficult to dissect and identify why I was so enraged.
I gave into her. Why? Why was I so weak?
Just then it dawned on me.
My coiled aggression, giving into her, and the ensuing rage was all because of one thing—Risa had hurt me. Her inability to see what her distrust of me was creating, her silence, and her falsity drilled a huge core of hurt inside of me.
My sweet little girl had crushed me completely.
How could I make her see what I felt for her?
29
RISA
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so eager to kiss him after everything he’d put me through. It didn’t matter to me though. I always wanted Damian, from the first moment I met him and the chain on my ankle did nothing to diminish that.
My mouth devoured his. I couldn’t get enough of him. The taste of Damian shot through me like vodka.
Cold. Hot.
With one swipe of his fingers, he shut off the water. He then anchored me firmly to him with his hand in my hair. I moaned my need for him as I rocked my hips hard against his. “I need you, Damian. I need you inside me.”
My harshly whispered words got me what I wanted.
He stood up, shifting us until he sat on the tub’s edge with me opened widely over his lap. Our hands roved over the other with fevered need. My lips tore away from Damian’s to kiss and nip the skin of his throat. I rubbed my cheek against the stubble, aroused to see him in rare dishabille. Damian was always so exacting about his appearance, so careful to be perfectly shaved at all times. Feeling the scrape against my skin was a rare delight.
Words failed us but our bodies did not.
I rolled my hips sensuously against his while Damian cupped my face in his strong hands. He took long, drugging kisses from my mouth until I thought I’d die of pleasure. Gorgeous flashes of the sun and moon imprinted me every time I opened my eyes.
It was exquisitely intimate, beautiful beyond description.
Soon we tumbled onto the marble floor, Damian taking the brunt of the fall as I landed on top of him. He smirked briefly, entrancing me as always as I searched his gaze, trying to discover what he was thinking to make him smile so.
Are you thinking of me? Do I make you happy in some small way?
My t
houghts faded when Damian flipped me onto my back and swooped down to kiss the tops of my breasts. I nearly came right then and there with each strong tug of his lips on my sensitive nipples.
Damian gripped both of my wrists in one of his hands. Pinned to the floor, I experienced a strange kind of freedom, despite the fetter on my leg. I couldn’t move except for how far he allowed me. I just had to accept the pleasure he coaxed effortlessly from my body.
His name a chant in my heart, I arched in excitement when he pressed his hips against my mound. After grinding against me for long delirious moments, Damian finally freed himself. He didn’t bother to take my panties off. His long fingers sank into me, pumping me just the way I liked it to get me ready for him. My legs spread widely, greedy for more.
Low laughter filled my ears. Joy warmed me at the familiar husky notes. I smiled and leaned forward to reach his mouth. Damian’s thick cock slid inside me with one thrust. Tearing my mouth from his, I gasped loudly and wound my legs around his waist.
Straining against Damian, I met him stroke for ruthless stroke. Harsh breathing filled the tiny spaces between us, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the sounds of my chain scraping against the stone floor.
Damian’s clever fingers snaked between us. He stroked me, thumb and forefinger plucking and stroking the seat of my keenest pleasures. I let out a guttural groan. My mouth opened, words ready to tumble out in supplication, as I was trained to do from this beautiful man.
He shook his head. “No.”
No, I couldn’t come? No, don’t beg?
His name passed as a whisper of supplication. Damian merely shook his head again, but his fingers worked me faster until ecstasy rolled over me. I pressed my flushed face against his extended arm and moaned. Laughter tickled my throat, but I swallowed it whole as I heard the metallic call of my captivity.
“Risa…”
Damian let go of my wrists. His strong hands clutched my hips, angling me higher so he could sink deeper inside. I clutched his strong body close, remembering us from this position countless times.
He hunched over and kissed me hard, soothing the sting of teeth against skin before sliding his tongue playfully against mine. Soon Damian lifted off me and artfully arranged me on my knees before entering me smoothly.
The primal nature of our lovemaking thrilled us both if Damian’s groans were any indication. I gripped the edge of the tub as his thrusts quickened. He wasn’t going to last much longer. Damian growled my name and crushed me in his arms.
I knew happiness.
Afterwards, we both curled up on the floor. Face to face. Damian brushed his fingertips across my cheek. He then reached down and brought my thigh up. He touched my cut gently. The strife between us faded as I stared into his beautifully mismatched eyes.
I loved the temporary peace but not nearly as much as I loved him.
30
We were in the tub, my back to his front.
“Risa, tell me why you chose to cut yourself instead of apologizing.”
The rushing water camouflaged my initial hemming and hawing. I found it easier to explain while facing away from Damian’s painfully direct gaze.
“It seemed like the least I could do after hurting your feelings.”
Damian paused briefly in the midst of scrubbing my shoulders. “Why do you think you hurt my feelings?”
“I could see it in your eyes. I felt so bad. I don’t want to hurt you, Damian. I never want to hurt you.” I shifted and sat forward. My eyes drifted shut as Damian washed my back in long passes.
“Does it hurt?”
“No, not really. Not as much as you’d think it would.”
“I wasn’t talking about your leg.”
“Oh!” I swallowed the obvious question. Giving myself a moment to think, I answered slowly, “Yes. Hurting you hurts me.”
“I’m glad to know it. As far as your leg, that’s too bad. Maybe a throbbing knee would be an efficient reminder to keep your recklessness in check.”
“I wasn’t reckless until I met you, Damian.”
“Really? Somehow I doubt that.”
“It’s true. I never did anything like the stuff we do until you. I never even knew this life could exist.” I gave into the pressure of Damian’s palm against my chest. I leaned back until I settled comfortably between his legs.
“Then what were you looking for?” Damian abandoned the washcloth in favor of using his hands. He squeezed a large gel dollop between my breasts. His fingers smoothed the viscous liquid over my skin. “Feeling safe, protected, and completely owned?”
I relished the tender care he showed my body. It made me happy. It made me confused. Everything had changed and nothing had changed. We were the same and different.
I wanted Damian’s love and now that I’d finally gotten it, I didn’t completely trust it. Obviously it was because of the chain, but was it because I never really trusted Damian?
“Why do you think I was looking for something? How did you know me, Damian, before I knew this about myself?”
“It was obvious to anyone with my kind of eyes.”
“You mean anyone with your sadistic streak?”
“Yes.”
I gained courage from not having to look him in the face. “Damian, you were so cold to me at the beginning.”
“I know.” His hand didn’t pause in smoothing over my back.
“Why did you even go out with me?”
Damian cupped water and splashed it over my skin. “Because I wanted you.”
He didn’t elaborate so I asked, “It was just a sex thing?”
“Not just.”
I laughed a little. “You knew I wanted you. You always knew that.”
“Yes.”
“But I didn’t know that you wanted me. I’ve never been sure in that.”
His lips touched the nape of my neck. His fingers played with the chain hanging over the tub’s edge, rolling the links in his hand. “Does this prove it to you?”
“I would’ve rather had roses and some perfume or jewelry first.”
He chuckled. “Later on I’ll shower you with enough of those to last you a lifetime.”
“I just have to survive this trial.”
“We both have to survive this.” Damian kissed my shoulder and whispered, “Do you still hate me for not letting you leave me?”
My eyes closed. “I never did.”
“Yes, you did. I’d hate me if I were you.”
I turned around and cupped his face. Damian’s unshaven cheeks prickled my fingertips. I traced his beautiful lips, moving onto his perfect chin, before moving up high on his sliver cheekbones. I stared into his gorgeous eyes, fixated and fascinated by their drastically different hues. It was like staring at the sun and the moon, heaven and hell, all at the same time.
My sense of betrayal had already faded. I was overwhelmed by the blessing of being so close to this dangerously unpredictable man.
The fringe of his long, feminine lashes drew my lips. I kissed each eye while Damian held himself so still. My kisses drifted down slowly until I reached his lips. I kissed them softly, tenderly. My tongue flicked along the hard seam of his lips until they opened to me.
Our tongues tangled sweetly. I felt the fine tremors go through his large body. They reflected the ones going through mine.
“I hate what you did last night and what you’re continuing to do. But…”
“But?”
“But I’ll always love you more. Believe that even if you can’t believe anything else from me.”
He gave me a clipped nod. “You’ve never been this open with me before, Risa. It’s already worth it to me. Now all I have to do is get you to like the chain.” He grinned suggestively. “Which considering how much of a masochist you are won’t take too long.”
I wished I could share in his amusement. I suddenly wondered if I had somehow asked for all of this because I had liked all of it. Well, before last night. “What does it say about me to like
…”
To like you hurting me just so you can make it all better?
“Pain? It says nothing you don’t want it to say, Risa. It doesn’t mean you’re a deviant. Now me on the other hand…”
Damian actually made a joke! Or least as close as a joke as I’d ever heard him make. I turned around but not before I smiled and asked, “How did you know you were like this?”
“I’ve always known.”
“Really?”
“Really, really.”
His arms slid around my waist. It felt wonderful. “How young were you when you first started doing this kind of stuff?”
“Sixteen.”
“What did you do?”
“Not very much. A little spanking, some light bondage.”
I sputtered and swiveled around. “Not very much? That sounds like more than a lot.”
Damian smiled sweetly before taking his large hand and turning my head back around. “Keep looking forward.”
“Why? Are you embarrassed?”
“You know better. I’m saving you from embarrassment.”
“I’m not embarrassed!”
“That’s why you’re blushing.”
I slapped frothy hands against my cheeks. “I’m not!”
“I could retire by now if I had five dollars for every time I’ve made you blush.”
“You’re not a very nice man, Damian.”
“You’ve known that from the beginning.”
“I don’t know why I ever even liked you.” My grouching came off more petulant than threatening.
“Because you can’t help yourself.”
“True.” I giggled.
“What?” he pressed while kissing my shoulder sweetly.
Dropping my head forward, I mused, “No one at work really knows the real you. Everyone thinks you’re a perfectly self-contained, brilliant example of the modern corporate worker but I know better.”
“I am a perfectly self-contained, brilliant example of the modern corporate worker.”
“Well, yes, but you’re also a mean, rude, vulgar, foul-mouthed bully.”
“Only to you. Besides, one doesn’t have anything to do with the other. Drop your head back.”
