Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel

by Hill, Joey W.

  At last he set the rod aside. Bending, he kissed her brow, her wet eyes. He moved to her ear, bit and nuzzled. He hadn’t released the chain, his knuckles against the collar so she felt them through the vinyl against her throat. Her ass and breasts throbbed with pain. They wanted his soothing touch, those big hands stroking her. She willed him to do that, staring at him with a pleading look she’d never admit to having on her face. But he’d taken away rational thought. Even her desires were under his command, because she knew that she wouldn’t have wanted the soothing touch alone. She’d wanted the punishment as part of it. Some things had to go together.

  When he finally drew back, she saw he was more than ready to take her again. His cock was an enormous impression against his jeans, no mistaking what it was. All she could think was Yes, God yes.

  As he ran his hands slowly over her breasts and nipples, massaged, she moaned, closed her eyes.

  “Yeah, your Master was cruel to you. He’ll also be the one to make it better. It all begins and ends with me, Celeste.”

  He kept stroking and massaging her, taking the hurt away while leaving the arousal intact, her nipples stabbing into his palms. He teased them with his knuckles, sometimes keeping a hair’s width cushion of air between her flesh and his touch so that she was straining for him. Yet when he stopped doing that and simply cradled both curves, his touch did more than soothe the physical abrasions. It reconnected the two of them, made her feel he was with her every step of the way, every strike of the rod or paddle a give and take of energy that bound them more surely together. She couldn’t parse that out or define it. It simply was.

  She watched with glazed eyes as he rose and went back to the table. She couldn’t stop the pitiful noise as he picked up the dragon tail again. No, she just couldn’t. No.

  He came back to her, dropped to his heels, hooking a finger in her collar to lift her chin. “Ssshh,” he murmured as she shook her head. “Okay. I know you don’t like this, but I said your punishment would conclude with this. You know you need it. I’m not going to let you get away with tearing yourself down, Celeste. So here’s the deal. Take it like the brave girl I know you are. Lift up your ass and keep it lifted, as much as you can. Then, when I’m done, I’m going to fuck you, Celeste, and I’m going to let you come. After that, I’ll take care of you like the sweet baby you are. Be good for your Master, and he will be very, very good to you.”

  There’d be no “byline” spoken this time. He’d understood what she’d been asking at Darla’s, her need for him to prevent her from crying wolf. But it had the side benefit of teaching her she could rely on him to understand if she’d truly reached an unbearable point. The way he studied her reactions so closely, the stroke of his fingers on her throat, told her he was waiting her out, evaluating.

  She was trusting him to understand her better than she did.

  She’d never let anyone have that kind of control over her, but somehow he’d put her in a position where she’d made the choice to have no choice. That dark part of her writhed and twisted in her gut, a rabid animal consuming itself. She should say fuck you, should fight him, damn it. But she didn’t want to. All she wanted was this.

  A part of her just…let go. Let go of all of it. She was afraid of that sharp tip, afraid of that stinger, but she thought of him inside her, taking her so deep, driving that dark part away.

  Meeting his eyes, aware that her own were filled with tears for some inexplicable reason, she slowly, slowly made herself lift her hips.

  “Higher.”

  His voice was quiet.

  She complied, shook harder. Closed her eyes, squeezed them tight as she heard him shift, move behind her. Then she jumped as his mouth touched her ass. His hands smoothed over the marks the paddle had left, soothing her skin the way he’d soothed her breasts. In the meantime, his lips worked around the curve of her buttock and then over, closing over her pussy, which was so wet she heard the sucking sound between his mouth working over her and her labia. “That’s my sub. Good girl. Brave girl,” he said.

  She was so close to climax when he drew back, she was seeing black spots in her vision. Then he straightened and she knew what was coming. She imagined her spine as a rigid tree branch to keep her ass up. The dragon tail stung her ass and she jerked, cried out at the pain. With the very next strike, her spine became a willow branch bobbing in the wind, because the subsequent snaps kept her dancing, ass wiggling this way and that as he hit low, high, middle, on the sides, on her thighs. She tried hard to keep her ass up the way he said—don’t tuck—but it was so damn difficult.

  Every sense should have been razor sharp, cursing him and fighting a pain that was in no way pleasant. Instead she couldn’t hold on to a single protest or coherent thought. The pain tore her grip from reality and spun her into a place all about the next blow, her need for him to make it better when it was all over. He had to create this pain to open and heal the deeper wounds. You know you need it. Her remarkable faith in that astounding statement, her intuitive sense of what he’d meant, became more important than anything, which told her she’d lost her mind, a temporary insanity where she handed it all to him.

  Enough, please. For the love of God. She was begging for mercy against the gag, chewing on that hard rubber, sucking on it, caught in a crazy haze of lust and agony. When the stinging stopped, she had her head to the floor, gasping against the gag. She groaned at the bliss and relief as his mouth came back to her buttocks and thighs, along with the caress of his hands. She was so sensitive, she flinched at his initial touch, but then she pushed into it as much as her bonds allowed. His touch slid over her rib cage, cupping her breasts as he knelt over her.

  He released the chains attached to the cuffs on wrists, thighs and ankles, steadied her while he unhooked the chain attached to the collar. He didn’t remove the collar or the gag, a reminder that she still belonged to him right now. He was her Master. He gathered her up and lifted her as if she weighed nothing, cradling her in his arms with a tenderness that made her heart hurt. Everything hurt, inside and out.

  He carried her out of that room and into his bedroom, laid her on the bed with its earth-tone pillows. She had a brief impression of a dresser, a closet, a couple pictures. He was prepared here as well, for as she watched him in the semi-darkness, he pulled straps from under the mattress and secured the cuffs on her wrists and ankles to them, keeping her spread on the bed. Not uncomfortably straining, though she could only raise her arms a few inches off the mattress and slightly bend her knees but not close them. The mattress was bliss against her sore ass, but not as much as his hands there had been.

  He moved to the end of the bed where she could see him and stripped off his jeans and boxers. He was standing naked before her spread, vulnerable body. The man was solid, the golden skin a terrain of layered, rolling and knotted muscle in all the right places. Hard and seasoned, like firewood. His cock jutted thick and stiff out from a trimmed pelt of pubic hair that let her see the heavy weight of his testicles hanging below. Under her gaze, he rolled on another condom and then straightened, his curled fist stroking himself as he simply stood there.

  Her stomach quaked as his eyes slid over her with leisurely pleasure. Possession. All his, to do with as he desired. He owned her, every reaction. He’d said he was in charge of everything. She hadn’t entirely understood that at the beginning, but she did now in a way that normally would terrify her and raise every defensive shield she had. But her mind was as securely under his command as the rest of her.

  Her cunt was slick again, inner muscles contracting as she remembered his promise. She’d been good for her Master. Hadn’t she?

  “As much as I love fucking a sub, this is always my favorite moment,” he said. “When she realizes she’s mine, her eyes all pleading, mouth soft, her pussy wet. And the longer I stand here, looking like I want to take everything she’s got and then push her twice the distance beyond that, the more she trembles. Afraid and wanting at the same time. There’s some o
f that inside a Master as well.” His voice was low, conversational, but those golden eyes were alive with fire that was licking over every inch of skin he was studying. “Afraid I’ll want too much, demand too much. It’s like I want to work you so hard I’ll destroy you, even as I want to protect you from the whole damn world.”

  She was shaking, more violently with every word. The noises she was making were similar to when he’d been using the dragon tail. No more. Have mercy. She was cracking inside, and the poisons deep inside would take her over, overwhelm her. She’d have no defenses left with him. Which she was pretty sure was his intent.

  He stretched out over her, settling his body between her spread legs, his bare flesh against hers. Bracing his elbows by her shoulders, he framed her face in his large hands. He was keeping his weight mostly lifted off of her, his cock brushing her pelvis, teasing her clit with the length pressed between them. He was a big man, so his hips forced her thighs out wider, emphasized that she was spread and held down for him. She stared up at him, spoke against the gag. He couldn’t understand the words, but he understood the emotions.

  “Ssshh. No, we’re leaving the gag on. I’m not giving you anything to protect yourself, especially that sharp tongue. I’m the one protecting you now.”

  He stroked her cheek, dipped his head to press warm kisses on everything around the gag. Forehead, eyes, cheekbones. “It’s all right, Celeste. I’ve got you.”

  Her right hand flexed, flexed again. Clenched. Suddenly she needed something, one simple thing that held all the importance of life itself to her. The need for it swept through her like a convulsion. She stared at his hand, then turned her head back toward her own. She hit the mattress with her knuckles like a flopping fish, looked at him again. He followed the motion and shifted his gaze back to her. “Ask me, darlin’. You don’t demand anything from your Master.”

  She swallowed. In another frame of mind, she would have spit at him like a cat, but that mental state was way beyond her grasp. She verbalized please in a questing note against the gag, gazing up at him. Then, thinking it through, hard, she swept her gaze down, a gesture of submission, and let her hand relax on the mattress, palm up, fingers curved.

  “Nicely done.” His approval sent a shot of pleasure through her that should have been ridiculous, but it wasn’t. Her eyes closed in blissful relief as he reached out and clasped her hand, his warm fingers closing over hers. It was okay. He was holding her hand. It was uncanny, what it did to her. Miraculous.

  “Look at me.”

  Lifting her lashes, she was absorbed by those intent golden-brown irises as he adjusted his hips and fitted his cock to her opening. She made another inarticulate sound and his gaze flickered, mouth going taut as he began to push inside her. She lifted her hips the amount her bonds allowed, and his knowledge of a woman’s body did the rest. She arched her throat and back as he slid home. He stretched her, pressed in deep, and it felt so damn good her legs strained against her bonds, wanting to take more.

  “Easy, darlin’. Just let me do it all, carry you where we both need to go.”

  He ground himself against her, a slow rotation that increased the friction against her clit. Sliding one hand beneath her, he cupped her ass and tilted her up against him further. He released her hand to keep the bulk of his weight off her, but he braced it next to her fingertips, so she could still touch him. He was caring for her as he destroyed her.

  “Christ you are a tight fit. Been a while, hasn’t it, darlin’? Your vibrator’s one of those clit stimulators, I’ll bet. Nothing that goes inside.”

  She was tight, but he was also good-sized. The combination was excruciatingly pleasurable. Then his grip on her ass constricted. “Answer me. Has it been a while?”

  Her gaze flicked up to him, the hard mouth, the piercing eyes. She nodded, a quick jerk, and his look of satisfaction, all territorial male, sent a primal surge through her. He pulled partially out, came back in, rotated his hips, ground deep again, pushing up against her clit. He kept doing that, exploring her with cock and rhythm, finding out what made her writhe and gasp, what made her plead for an orgasm.

  In the end, all of it did. He was thrusting with intent at that point, and she was crying out against the gag with every stroke. The climax built to a higher and wider point than before. A focused shot of sensation targeting her clit was certainly nice, but this started to rock her whole body, involving every erogenous point, sweeping through muscles, nerves, organs and taking over mind and heart to plunge deeper. Every time he took her this deep, this high, he left no part of her detached, uninvolved or safe from the demand of his body, his cock, and those penetrating eyes.

  “Go over for me, Celeste. Tear it all loose for your Master.”

  Her body shuddered, quaked. A howl of protest came from those subterranean parts of her that were deathly afraid of where he was taking her, but they couldn’t hold out against him. The climax grabbed hold, ripped her away from the cliff edge and tossed her into fire, flames dancing over her and through her as she bucked, shrieked her pleasure over and over against the gag. Her tongue slid over and around the phallus, teeth snapping down on it as he took her further, increasing the power of his thrusts. Muscles rippled over his broad shoulders, the veins in his neck pulsing, his eyes fierce and holding hers. His lips stretched back in a snarl as he found his own release, hips rising and falling, slamming against the inside of her thighs. Spread open the way she was, she felt every sensation, could protect herself from none of it, and her screams of pleasure were also screams of deeper, crazier, things. Yearnings and wants as he hammered into her core, breaking down the walls beyond which she’d never let anyone go before.

  Help me, Leland. Please…help me.

  Chapter Eight

  It was a cry from her past, she knew, but it twined with the present. The climax was over, and her breathing was still shallow, fast, fingers curling and uncurling in her bonds. She needed him to let her go. She needed to curl up around that center which was ugly and exposed, shield it with her body.

  Instead, he put his mouth against her ear, her neck, nuzzled and kissed his way to the point of her shoulder. He then followed a track across her breastbone to the other shoulder, neck and ear before he lifted his head. As he touched her, she was torn between two states. One that wanted his mouth on her like this, his arms around her. One that was like a wild animal, feeling cornered. He saw both things.

  “I’m going to remove the gag, and then I’ll remove the cuffs. You’re not leaving this bed, Celeste. Not until I’m good and ready to let you go. And you’re staying here tonight.” He curled his fingers in the ring at the front of the collar and gave it a sharp little jerk, making her chin snap up and wary eyes meet his. “You understand?”

  She nodded.

  “Yes, sir would be the proper response.”

  She said it against the gag. It could be any two syllables, since it came out as a hum of sound, but it was clear she’d responded as required. It did unexpected things to her, settling down that weird panic, the need to flee. Unfortunately not enough.

  He removed and disposed of the condom, then he unbuckled the gag, slid it from her mouth. She sucked on the phallus as he pulled it free, trying to get rid of any unsightly saliva. A smile touched his mouth as he noted her self-consciousness about that. His fingers traced the impression the rectangle had left on her skin, then he turned his attention to the cuffs. All she had to do was give in to the way she was feeling, let him hold her, care for her. That naked, vulnerable soul trembling deep inside her longed for that like nothing else. Why couldn’t she give herself over to it, the relief of subspace where the Dom would cuddle the sub and there was nothing but a drifting haze, no worries or thoughts? She’d briefly experienced it, seen it done. But Leland had gone below that layer. She couldn’t give herself to that. As soon as he released the fourth cuff, she didn’t think about how irrational her reaction was. She wasn’t built that way, not when it came to relating to another person. Not th
is deeply.

  She made it barely halfway off the bed before he had his arm around her waist and brought her back against him. She kicked into the air, tried to get away, and found herself put down with a decisiveness that told her she was fighting a male used to subduing suspects. He’d put her on her back though, so she clawed at him. An instant later, her arms were neutralized as he adjusted to a high straddle on her, sitting his fine ass just beneath her breasts, his knees and shins holding her arms at the biceps. Which put his cock up close and personal. She rocked against his hold, but the man was just too heavy and had her pinned too firmly. Her biceps were pressed into the bed, but she had mobility past her elbows. She slapped at his hips, clawed ineffectually at his buttocks and thighs. He just gazed down at her meditatively while he gripped himself over her quivering breasts and began to stroke.

  He’d just come, so he wasn’t erect yet, but he was an impressive length even in that state. She lifted her head, tried to snap, and couldn’t quite get there. “You want me to put the gag back on?” he warned.

  She shook her head, though she wasn’t talking as if she was still wearing it. She didn’t want to talk, and didn’t really know why. She preferred this purely physical response. She also couldn’t seem to stop looking at his hand, the way he held himself, stroking, gripping, and fondling. She could smell the heavy musk of their combined climaxes. Before she could stop herself, she licked her lips.

  “We’re only a third of the way there,” he remarked. “I’ve fucked your ass once, your pussy once. Once more of each to go before this night is done. Plus you have to suck me off twice. I expect you could get me hard now, couldn’t you, with that dangerous mouth?”

  She lifted her gaze to him and curled her lip. A shadow passed through his gaze, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Yeah, it’s like that right now. You make this real difficult on yourself, darlin’. I’ve got a ring gag that will take care of those teeth. As embarrassed as you were about a little saliva, you’ll be blushing like a girl with her panties around her ankles in front of her daddy when that ring gag’s making you drool all over my cock. That what you want?”