Re/Bound

by Michele Zurlo

  She relaxed a little, but she didn't unfurl her fist. He moved his hand up her wrist. The blouse she wore had a gap just above the cuff. He stuck his finger in there, intending to stroke the sensitive flesh in an attempt to put her at ease. She stiffened and pulled her arm away, but not before he felt the hot, raised skin hiding there. Scars? No, welts.

  “Darcy, what's going on?”

  She looked at her plate. She shuffled her napkin around and fidgeted in her chair. “It's nothing. Don't worry about it.”

  It hadn't felt like nothing. He schooled his features into a calm mask. “Really? Then show me.”

  Color drained from her face. She stood and grabbed her soiled paper goods. Malcolm gathered his own trash and followed her stiff back to the trash can. Once they had disposed of everything, she flashed a polite smile up at him.

  “Thanks for having breakfast with me. Now if you don't mind, I need to go over some notes to prepare for my presentation this morning.”

  She jetted out of there, but he followed closely. The wall she'd thrown between them didn't bother him for now. He'd caught a telling glimpse of what kind of submissive she must have been with Scott. Running hot and cold like this, she must have kept him on his toes. Malcolm gentled his expression, an attempt to put her at ease, but she didn't look at him. “I'll walk with you, since we're going in the same direction and everything.”

  That polite smile found him again. He resisted the urge to wipe it from her face. A kiss might do the trick. She had responded very well to his kiss. Then again, perhaps she wouldn't drop the facade until he had her tied up and on the edge of orgasm. That thought titillated him to no end.

  She said nothing in the tense silence of the elevator. At the door to her room, she turned to him with efficient movements. “Thanks for your company. I have to prepare for today.”

  She stuck the key card into the lock and opened the door, no doubt intending to flee to the safety of her sanctuary. Malcolm pushed them both inside and closed the door. The automatic lock engaged.

  She stared up at him through narrowed eyes. He checked for signs of fear, but he found nothing except irritation. She wasn't even aroused or frustrated.

  “Theo—”

  With lightning reflexes, he snatched her wrist. She pulled hard. When that didn't work, she braced her other hand against his chest and pushed while she tugged.

  “Let go of me. I did not ask you to come into my room.”

  Because she wouldn't stay still, he wrestled her until he had her arm pinned to the wall with her body behind his and her wrist in front. He wrapped his arm around hers just above the elbow. This both prevented her from being hurt by the wall, and it immobilized her long enough for him to unbutton her cuff.

  “You invited me in this morning.”

  She tried jerking her arm away, but her strength was no match for his. “You aren't a vampire. Just because I invited you in one time doesn't mean you're always welcome.”

  Finally he peeled back the arm of her shirt. A series of thin welts, each no more than a half inch long, dotted the tender flesh of her forearm. One showed a scab where the skin had been penetrated. It looked like she had dug her nails into her skin. “Jesus, Darcy. What happened?”

  When she tugged again, he released his hold. She held her wrist close to her body as she buttoned the cuff. Malcolm recognized the defensive gesture and the haunted look in her eyes.

  She managed an icy tone. “It's really none of your business.”

  Not wanting to set her off, Malcolm backed away. He parked himself on the other side of the room. Two queen beds separated them. He hoped they represented enough obstacles to set her at ease. That ice was about to become fire.

  “You did this to yourself.” He presented the query as a statement, a fact she could acknowledge by not disagreeing. “Why?”

  She bristled, crossing both arms over her abdomen. “I did it yesterday. It helped take the edge off my anxiety.”

  Understanding flared, but years of self-control kept it from his face. She had done this before he stepped in to give her a pep talk. “Do you hurt yourself like this often?”

  She shook her head. “I've never done it before.”

  He leaned against the windowsill, palms down against the cool wood. Her admission that she didn't make a habit out of self-torture helped release the tension in his body. “Did it help?”

  She chewed that lip again. The urge to take it between his lips and suck on it until she moaned almost had him pushing away from the window. “A little. Mostly you helped.”

  Backing her against a wall and speaking harshly to her hadn't been overly taxing. “Darcy, I can do that again. Just ask.” She had been pushing and pulling at the boundaries between them on and off since the night before. He expected the new sub in his life to test his limits. Then he shook away the thought. She wasn't his.

  Defeat dulled her eyes a bit, and she shook her head. “It only worked because you surprised the hell out of me. I mean, I was freaking out and all of a sudden there's this handsome, sexy Dom caging me with his arms and commanding me to get it together.”

  She had called him sexy. He wanted to use her admission to flirt with her, but now wasn't the time. “I can still do that.”

  Again she shook her head. Her shoulders slumped, and she sank down to sit on the edge of the bed. “It won't work. That one-trick pony has left the stable.”

  “How did Scott handle this?” The more he learned about Yataines, the better he could understand what had happened to him. He and his superiors had their suspicions, and any information could be golden.

  “He would spank me or flog me. Not full-out. Just enough to get me calm and centered.” She licked her lips this time, a caress instead of violence. Invoking the memory seemed to calm her a bit.

  “Is this how you've managed since he's been gone?”

  Her eyes squeezed tight, and she swiped at one of them. Malcolm couldn't see, but he guessed it had been a tear. He crossed the room, careful to keep his progress loud enough for her to hear and slow enough to keep her from being startled. He knelt in front of her and took her hands in his. She allowed him this gesture, but she didn't look at him.

  “This is the first time I've spoken in public since he's been gone.”

  He remembered the news footage. Unsteady shots of her pale and drawn face, shouted demands from reporters to which she didn't reply. Close-ups of her face with her eyes wide. In most of the photos and news footage, she had shielded her face or refused to look at the cameras. At the time, many had assumed guilt on her part. Malcolm realized it had been abject fear of public speaking.

  “Why did you agree to come here?” He knew enough about her business to understand the networking and visibility this conference represented for her, but he also knew she wasn't hurting for money.

  She shook her head and shifted to move away. Malcolm lifted his hand and rested it on the side of her head. Though he didn't touch her brow or her lip, she stilled. Her breath caught as she waited for him to assert his dominance. He hadn't planned to do that, but the way her shoulders shook told him she needed that from him.

  He ran his thumb along the curve of her brow, and then he dropped his hand down to do the same thing to her bottom lip. Immediately her trembling ceased. “Look at me.”

  She lifted her gaze, revealing tear-bright eyes.

  “If public speaking terrifies you like this, then why did you agree to come here?”

  She bit her lip, hesitating. He couldn't let her do that. He ran his thumb over her bottom lip again, and she released it.

  “Answer me, Darcy.”

  “It's complicated.” She dropped her gaze.

  He recognized her shame, but he wanted to know the cause before he issued assurances that she shouldn't feel ashamed. He repeated his caress. Brow, lip. “That's not an answer.”

  “I wanted...” She squeezed her eyes shut, but she remembered her position quickly and opened them again. Malcolm didn't make the mistake of thi
nking she would react this way with any Dom. She felt a connection to him. He felt the same thing.

  “You wanted.”

  She sighed. “I wanted to prove to myself that I could do it. Scott always said I had more strength and courage than anyone he knew. He believed in me when everyone else said my idea to start my consulting service was stupid. I wanted to be the woman he thought I was. I wanted to honor his memory, and I've failed miserably.”

  Two tears trailed down her cheek, and she swiped them away, anger and frustration apparent in her stiff movements. More tears wet the palm he rested on her other cheek, but she didn't attempt to remove his touch. He abandoned his kneeling position on the floor and sat next to her at the foot of the bed. She rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled into his embrace. He breathed in the fresh, coconut scent of her shampoo.

  “I'm sorry to dump this on you, Theo. I didn't intend this when I said I'd have breakfast with you.” A pathetic laugh fell from her lips. “Do you have any heavy bags you'd like to unload?”

  No agent made it to thirty without some baggage, but he couldn't share those stories with her yet. “Darcy, never apologize for answering my questions truthfully. For the record, I fully disagree with you.”

  She didn't say anything, but he could tell by the way she chewed her poor lip that weighty thoughts occupied her mind.

  He answered the question she hadn't asked. “Just by being here, you're honoring his memory. You gave that speech last night. You're going to teach two sessions today, and you're going to take part in the panel tomorrow. You are every bit as strong and courageous as Scott thought.”

  At last she snorted and pushed away. She sat upright and straightened her shirt. “Any strength or courage I had last night came from you, and I'm seriously considering packing my bags and leaving right now.”

  He pressed his lips together. Intelligent and stubborn as hell, the exact kind of woman who made him weak in the knees. “Darcy, I'm not the one who got up on that dais and had three hundred people eating out of my hand last night. I sat in the crowd and watched you work your magic. Maybe I helped you access your reserves, but you were the one who gave the speech.”

  She sniffed and looked at the ceiling. She drew a ragged breath and dropped her gaze to the wall. “Maybe I used it all up. I can't seem to find it right now. For God's sake, Theo. I'm shaking, and I can't seem to focus on anything.”

  He leaned back on his hands, careful to not touch her at all. “If you want my help, all you have to do is ask.”

  She turned, swiveling her whole body to face him. Her knee came up on the bed and pressed into his thigh. Warmth raced through him, just from that little bit of contact. “You would really flog me if I asked?”

  “I didn't bring a flogger with me. It didn't seem like that kind of convention.”

  She laughed at his stupid joke, and some of the tension left her shoulders. The gesture she made toward his midsection displayed the confidence she had possessed the night before. “You're wearing a belt.”

  He looked down and fingered the hard leather. The new belt hadn't yet broken to fit his body. It wouldn't yield much against her tender flesh. “How much of a painslut are you?”

  A blush crept up her neck and stained her cheeks. “I can come just from being flogged. But I'm not asking for that. I just need enough to calm my nerves.”

  “How much is enough?”

  She looked from his hand to his belt. When she worried her lip this time, she tortured the top one. “You don't have a spanking glove. I don't think your bare hand can quite give what I need.”

  He made a mental note to get a leather spanking glove. She didn't know it and he couldn't say anything, but he would see her again after this weekend.

  Malcolm stood. Blood rushed to his cock, and he struggled to stay soft. She looked up at him, shades of uncertainty darkening her eyes. “Stand in front of me.”

  She rose, and he noted her unsteadiness.

  He cupped the side of her head and caressed her brow and lip. Her gaze dropped, but she seemed to grow stronger before his eyes. “Safe words, Darcy. Red to stop, yellow to pause, green to continue.” He hadn't used them before because they hadn't done more than talk. Still he should have made them available to her from the moment she responded to him as a Dom. “Repeat them.”

  “Red to stop, yellow to pause, green to continue.” From the ready way she repeated them, he knew they were familiar words. In a relationship, he would have let her choose her own words. However he had already been conditioned with these.

  “Well done. Kneel. Rest your ass on your heels, but keep your spine straight.”

  She complied immediately, automatically dropping her gaze. Malcolm grinned. While he didn't mind beginners, he definitely preferred experienced submissives.

  “Ask your favor.”

  She froze, and he let her have a moment to process. This scene would happen completely on her terms. He wouldn't embellish it one bit.

  “Sir, I would like you to flog me with your belt.”

  No tremors shook her voice, and no uncertainty made her hesitate. This was the vast pool of strength she needed help accessing. Malcolm schooled his features so they did not betray how impressed he was with her. “Remove my belt.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She undid the clasp and slid it from the loops.

  Now that it rested in her hands, he wanted her to test the damn thing. “Fold it in half and hit your thigh with it one time.”

  A sharp crack filled the air. He looked down to see what kind of mark it left, then rolled his eyes. He hadn't undressed her yet. She had hit her thigh through the fabric of her skirt. Her lips pressed together in frustration.

  “Pull your skirt out of the way and do it again.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She didn't hide the relief in her voice. A second crack resonated through the room. A tiny smile lifted the corners of her mouth, and an angry red stripe crossed her thigh. “This will do nicely.”

  Malcolm had never experienced a problem delivering punishment. He used a light hand with those who preferred a teasing or massaging stroke. Darcy, his little darling, wanted pain, and he would make sure she got enough to carry her through the day.

  “How many would you like, Darcy?”

  Her mouth opened and closed. “However many you prefer to give, Sir.”

  He preferred to head to the store and purchase something with less bite. He preferred to take her to his apartment to use his own equipment. “Not this time. Tell me how many you need.”

  That lip disappeared again. “Sir, can you do five and then see if I want five more?”

  “I can do that. Put the belt on the bed, and remove your shirt.” Another time and place and he would have undressed her slowly, drawing out this first glimpse of her luscious body.

  She complied quickly. He liked that she understood the erotic element wasn't present. It meant she trusted him enough to not worry that he'd take advantage of her. Of course that didn't erase the eroticism he derived from her submission or from the sight of her breasts encased in a lacy white bra.

  He moved to stand behind her. He didn't want to tempt himself too much. “Take off your bra.”

  After she did, he moved her hair out of the way, draping it over one shoulder. He picked up the belt from where she had placed it on the bed, well aware she could see that movement.

  “Repeat the safe words.”

  “Red to stop, yellow to pause, green to continue.”

  He looked from her smooth, unmarked back to the belt in his hand.

  “I don't need to warm up for this little bit.”

  Her declaration took him by surprise. She had behaved so well up until now. He cleared his throat.

  “Sorry, Sir. You seem nervous. I know it's our first time together, but I trust you.”

  Malcolm closed his eyes as a wave of guilt rolled through him. She trusted him, and she had no idea she trusted a cover identity. He played these parts so well. For the first time, he had mixed emotions about
his sub's faith in him. “Darcy, I won't punish you more for insubordination under these circumstances, but don't make the mistake of thinking I won't punish you at all. Punishments for painsluts rarely involve pain.”

  She shivered, the kind of reaction indicating anticipation. He closed his eyes. Fire and ice, this one. Hot and cold. God, he wanted a day with her at his mercy.

  He slapped the belt against his pants. The dull sting bled through. He did this a few more times, testing the belt's flexibility and give. Gooseflesh dotted her arms and shoulders. It traveled down her back, and she made a small sound of frustration. Ignoring her, he rolled up his sleeve and tested the belt against his forearm until he was comfortable with the amount of pressure and force he needed to use.

  “Ready?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her voice quivered with eagerness.

  He laid five stripes over her upper back, three on one side of her spine and two on the other. “What color, Darcy?”

  “Green, Sir.”

  Her answer had come too quickly. She seemed completely unaffected by that first round. “Five more?”

  “Yes, if it pleases you, Sir.”

  This wasn't about pleasing him. He delivered five more, evening out the pink stripes on her back. He hadn't yet hit her as hard as she had hit herself. “Darcy?”

  “Green, Sir.”

  “Five more?”

  “Yes, if it pleases you, Sir.”

  He picked up on the frustration in her answer. Since this was, as she pointed out, their first time doing this together, he had no idea what she could handle. That kind of intimate knowledge developed over time. Still, he had warmed up her back, even though she'd told him it wasn't necessary. Safety measures like that weren't her call. “Harder, softer, or the same?”

  “Harder, please, Sir.”

  The next one issued the same cracking thunder as her test hits had. She drew in a quiet gasp. “What color, Darcy?”

  “Green. For the love of God, green. Please don't stop, Sir. Oh please don't stop.”

  Urgency and a bit of passion replaced the frustration. He delivered four more using the same force. She made no louder noise than the quiet gasp she had issued after the first one, and she didn't flinch once. Malcolm wondered if she truly loved the pain or if she felt she deserved punishment. His heart seized at the second thought.