His words were almost gentle but the leather unforgiving, cruel even. I called out the count every time, tried to relax my muscles every time he reminded me to and took the last of the strokes. And when it was done, I went limp, weeping into my arms, soaking the bed with my tears.
The strap landed on the floor with a thud but I remained as I was. He didn’t speak and when his fingertips grazed my ass, I flinched but didn’t pull away. His touch felt strange, not good, I was too tender for that, but it somehow reassured? It made no sense but all I could do was remain as I was, and when he pulled my cheeks apart, I tensed but only for a moment. He spread me open and I swallowed, grateful suddenly for the blindfold, grateful not to have to look at him as he surely looked at me, at my most private places. My face burned with shame while his fingers moved between my bottom cheeks and grazed the open lips of my pussy before trailing higher, circling my back hole.
But that was all and I don’t know if I was grateful or not when he stopped.
He freed my legs both from the thing I’d been bound to and the cuffs that kept my ankles together. He left my arms as they were but I was able to draw my knees up, tucking them underneath my hips, crawling slowly, painfully onto the bed, my burning ass high in the air, not caring what I looked like.
“There,” he said, rolling me onto my side. “Punishment is over.” He lifted my head onto his lap and with the gentlest touch, removed the blindfold. “Shh…” he coaxed, fingers pushing the hair off my wet face. “I hope you learned your lesson, Lily,” he said. “I hope you’ll not make me punish you like this again.”
I looked up at him through wet lashes, the image of him blurred.
We stayed like that for a while, him looking at me, touching my face, brushing my hair back coaxing me to stop crying, and in time, I did. I stopped and my breathing slowly returned to normal but throughout that time, however long it was, I couldn’t not look at him. What I felt I don’t know. I didn’t have a word for it. What I saw in his eyes, well, that too was indescribable. They were dark, darker than usual and when he slowly moved to stand, I made a sound. It wasn’t any word, simply sound, but he understood my meaning even when I could not. He stayed as he was, kept my head on his lap, caressed my shoulder and slowly turned me onto my back. I groaned when my bottom made contact with the rough blanket but I didn’t fight him. Perhaps I had learned to obey.
“Open your legs,” he said.
I searched his face but his eyes only urged me to do as he said and I did, and when I did, I watched his gaze slide over me, over my breasts, my belly, down to my sex. His throat worked as he swallowed and this time when he moved to stand, I didn’t make a sound but held my breath instead. He went to the foot of the bed, his eyes intent on my sex which, somehow, even with the pain on my backside, even knowing that he was the one who inflicted that torture on me, somehow, with his eyes on me, a different sort of heat consumed all of my attention and when he knelt between my legs, I didn’t move. I didn’t close them or cry out or anything. I simply remained watching him and Lake took hold of my thighs and pushed them wider, his eyes hungry, never once leaving that space as he brought his mouth to it, soft and wet and hot and when his lips closed over my clit, I sucked in a breath and a new wave of crying consumed me, the sensations of softness so opposite the punishment of moments before carrying me to a place where a throbbing heat coupled with that of absolute pleasure drew a cry from my lips. My eyelids closed and I lifted to him, opening for him. His tongue worked and his fingers slid into me, the days-old scruff on his face the only thing rough against my pussy, and when he sucked my clit, I came harder than I’d ever come before. My breath caught and a moan from deep inside me filled my ears. His mouth, his hot, wet, soft mouth connected to me. It was all consuming and when my hips stopped bucking and I opened my eyes again, I watched him rise from the bed. I watched him watch me, watched him wipe the back of his hand across his mouth. The thick length of his cock pressed against his jeans, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure what was next, what I wanted, what he would do. Then, without a single word, he was gone, leaving me bound to the bed. I closed my legs, pressing my thighs together, squeezing the still-tender nub, and rolled over onto my stomach. I could still feel him on me, feel his mouth closed over me, and, rubbing my swollen clit against the rough cover of the bed, I came again before falling asleep, bound, alone, and shivering, the sweat from my punishment now a cold layer of moisture over my body.
Chapter 9
Lake brought the axe down on the wood, splitting it cleanly, one half of the log flipping end over end off to the side, the other half staying utterly still, as if it had always been thus, had always been whole.
Though he already had at least five cords of wood stacked along the side of the house, Lake needed to do this. He needed the exertion, the distraction from the turmoil of his mind. This was simple; this made sense. It had purpose. Necessary or not, there was a reason for this.
What had just happened in that guest room had no purpose. There wasn’t a fucking reason in the galaxy for what he’d done. He dropped the blade onto a knot-filled log, the steel catching fast. He stooped to pick up the wedge, laying it against the rusted blade. The sledgehammer struck it once, twice, Lake grunting as he hit it harder a third time, driving the wedge through.
He was already sweating.
The line had been there — that unspoken, ephemeral, yet concrete point of no return.
And he’d fucking obliterated it.
Yet. as he placed another log on the broad stump, raised his axe once more, his calmness remained. He should have been worried, should have been ashamed.
But he wasn’t. Not in the least.
It was her reaction that had sent everything spinning off axis, if only for a moment, that most unexpected thing, and yet the most welcome. A relief, a moment of respite in this twisted journey he’d embarked upon, the helpless, beautiful, forlorn Lily in tow.
It still didn’t make sense. Was it biology? A defense mechanism? He’d studied it, of course. He’d even put it into practice in SERE training. Resist, in whatever way, whenever you could. Even the tiniest resistance was so important, for it focused the mind, fended off despair, and worse, shock.
Of course, she couldn’t know that; he doubted Lily would’ve survived a single day of basic training, let alone Special Forces training. But she had that fire, that instinct to survive, that not all people really knew how to tap into. And she was strong, stronger than he’d ever suspected.
That still didn’t explain it though. She’d actually had an orgasm.
At first, he’d simply been too shocked to react to it, the earthy scent of her on his lips, the taste of her still upon his tongue. He’d thought to simply punish her, and punish her he had.
Lying there with her afterward though, he wondered what she was thinking, why she fought at every turn.
Because she senses what you are inside.
Did she fight because of that knowledge, or had she come because of that knowledge? What if the two were becoming as confused for her as his role was becoming to him?
That wasn’t quite true, either, though. Lake stretched, dropping the axe to the turf and taking a seat on the stump, the splinters prickly but tolerable through the protection of his jeans. The smell of the pitch from the split wood rose around him, the clean, spicy scent of it making him smile. The memory of cutting wood as a child, when his dad had first taught him how to swing an axe, came back to him. It was a time when his father would’ve been proud of him — and when all Lake had ever wanted was the approval of his father.
Now, that Lake was gone.
When he thought of Lily again, the confusion welled within him once more. How was it possible? Could she? Did she? Questions piled one on top of the other, the answers drowned out by the conflict within him at where he now stood. He examined what he felt, why he felt, and although that small, quiet voice still whispered, it was faint. So faint.
He’d see this through, see where it led,
even if the final destination was a place he could not go, an end he would not choose for her.
Lake leaned over onto one hip, fishing his cell from his pocket, wiping a bead of sweat from his temple. The birds in the trees behind him began their singsong serenading again as he looked at the phone, frowning at it.
No message on the clean, yet.
It didn’t mean anything, of course. Kellen wasn’t exactly known for being talkative. He seemed more like a ghost than a man. Lake didn’t even know where his partner was half the time. Which was probably a good thing.
Distracting yourself won’t change anything.
Lake stood, groaning at the heavy soreness in his testicles. He hadn’t come, hadn’t allowed what his body had been screaming for as he’d had her under his tongue, her enticing scent all around him. The thought had him hardening all over again, regardless of the new pain flaring in his balls.
“Fuck,” he muttered, wiping the splinters from the seat of his jeans, taking one last deep breath of the clean scent of the woods, the waning evening light still warm on his skin.
It was time for some ground rules. And it was time to see how deep he wanted to take her.
* * *
The nude body stirred as he closed the door behind him, the darkness deepening as the evening light waned outside. For a moment, he stood there, watching her watch him, her eyes bright in the gathering shadows. He was pleased she didn’t try to speak, pleased that she seemed to be learning after all.
“I’m going to untie your hands, but I know you won’t try anything, will you?” He dropped his gaze pointedly to the strap still lying on the floorboards, waiting, like a black serpent.
Lily shook her head, her eyes widening.
“Good.”
He untied the cuffs from the headboard, then unclipped them from one another, allowing her to move her hands independently. She groaned as she flexed her shoulders, rubbing the backs of her arms.
“Hurting? You can speak.”
“Yes. Arms are killing me. You…”
“Go on.”
“You left me like that… too long.”
“You weren’t going anywhere.” He pointed to the headboard. “But that was to make sure you knew it.”
He sat down on the foot of the bed, her eyes watching him the whole time. He merely looked at her, taking in the movement of her naked breasts as she kneaded one arm, her elbow folded across her chest in a futile effort to conceal her breasts.
“That’s another of your rules. Never cover yourself, Lily.”
She stopped, lowering her arms haltingly until her hands clasped her bare thighs. Her breathing was already increasing, the rise and fall of her chest coming faster now.
“And what was your first rule?”
“Don’t speak — unless spoken to.” Her voice was rough, almost hoarse. Considering how loud she’d been screaming, he was surprised she’d had any voice left at all.
“Good, you remembered.” He turned toward her, resting his thigh along the mattress, his leg crossed over the other one. “But you forgot something.”
The crease of her brow and the quiver of her lower lip almost made him smile.
“Relax. I’m not going to punish you. I haven’t told you this one yet.”
The set of her shoulders eased a little.
“When you speak to me, you address me as ‘Sir.’ Always.”
“Yes… Sir.”
He smiled at her then. “You’re on a roll, Lily girl.”
Lily’s stomach growled loud and long, her cheeks coloring.
“Hungry?”
“Yes, Sir.”
Lake scratched his chin. “Well, if you’re good, maybe we can get you something to eat. But first it’s time to see if you’ve learned how to do as you’re told.”
Her big eyes watched him, her teeth worrying her lip again.
“I want you to stand up and walk over to that wall.” He pointed to the wall next to the bed. “Face it and wait.”
He thought she’d resist it, and he sighed as he waited, moving his hand along the mattress in the direction of the paddle that still lay there.
Finally, she rose and turned to the wall, looking at him over her shoulder before facing it, her head bowed, her hands clenched to fists at her sides.
Her bottom looked swollen, the rounded perfection of her buttocks marred by broad marks, faded to a deep pink from the livid red welts he’d watched the strap leave across her pale skin. The marks across her thighs, though, were more inflamed, a bluish bruise already darkening along one of the stripes.
“Do you see those rings in the wall above you? Reach up and grab one.”
She looked up then glanced at him over her shoulder again.
“Eyes front, Lily. Do as you’re told.”
With a little shudder, her arms reached up, her shoulder blades slowly moving as her body stretched. She had to go up on her toes to reach it, the smooth muscles of her calves bunching as she rose. Her fingers curled around the metal, and she stilled, a lock her hair falling down her back, the darkness of it contrasting against the clear smoothness of her skin.
For long moments he simply sat there, watching her, his heart pounding with the same painful throbbing of his hard cock. The delicate muscles of her arms stood tight, her position emphasizing the slenderness of her ribcage, the trim waist, the swell of that round, heart-shaped ass that called to the predator in him, called for both caresses and lashes. Her strong, lithe thighs trembled as she strained upward, the bruise deepening more, the color making him want to kiss it, to trace that line of pain with gentle, possessive fingers.
Every second he watched her seemed an eternity, his lust rising until all he could think about was falling upon her helpless body, taking from her what he knew he had no right to take. Yet he knew now that her body wanted him to take it anyway, even if her mind fought it, fought him — and what surrendering to him might mean. Right and wrong, good or evil, none of that mattered now. There was only lust, the animal rising within him. For too long he’d suppressed this side of himself. He’d wondered if it had died with his wife. But, as he took in the pale, smooth lines of Lily’s stretched, trembling form, he knew the truth of things, and the realization was both a joy and a sorrow. How could he be what he really was? How could she—
Stop it, Lake. Just feel. Just be.
Up on his feet and advancing, he reached her in two steps, wrapping a hand in her hair, making her gasp. His other hand clasped her throat, squeezing just enough to make her still, her pulse pounding against his fingers, her breath coming in rapid little pants.
“Tell me something, Lily. What were you, when you were younger?” He released her throat, easing his hand down her back to cup the soft weight of her buttock, the heat of her punished flesh against his palm. “Gymnast? Or was it yoga? How’d you get an ass like this, girl?”
Lily made a tiny sound, dropping her head.
He slapped her bottom, a comparatively gentle blow, tightening his grip in her hair.
“Answer me.”
“Gymnastics — and — track. Please…”
“Yoga too? Tell me.”
He pictured the lithe lines of her body in the early morning light, her outstretched limbs, those supple curves covered in a light sheen of sweat as she moved.
“Yes.”
“I knew it. Whatever it is, it’s working. This body… goddamn. Unbelievable.” Lake looked down, lifting each of her plump buttocks in turn upon his palm. “Keep them relaxed, totally relaxed. That’s it. I want to watch them move.”
He let each one drop then bounced them on his hand, slapping them back and forth, loving how they wobbled and shuddered, the soft, silky weight of them making him want to sink a gentle bite into her flesh, glorying in her quiet acquiescence to his fondling of her body.
“Good marks here. I’ll be leaving more soon.”
“Please, Lake. No…”
“Shh, Lily.” His fingers delved between her legs, finding the slic
k evidence that gave lie to her words. “This says what your words don’t. You may not have liked your punishment, but your pussy is dripping. Part of you liked it. A lot.” He patted those plump, soft labia he already wanted to taste again. “Don’t worry though. You’ll be getting more of what you need.”
With a confusing mix of pride and guilt, he stroked the darkening bruise across her thigh, and she hissed, her body tensing.
“Just checking it, girl. It’s okay.” He caressed her thighs, rubbing the swollen marks there gently. “I may have something for these. Later though.”
His hands explored every inch of her skin, testing the pliability of her flesh with a pinch here, a little slap there, squeezing the smooth muscles, fingertips coursing down the bumps of her spine. Her form trembled, the tension within her vibrating off her body.
She’s afraid of you, Lake.
In another time, that realization might have horrified him, made him recoil. But he knew that was far from all she was feeling, and the very fact that those contradictory feelings so obviously warred within her, only fed his lust more, the perverse thrill at playing her own body off against her mind filling him with a possessive joy, and a territoriality about her body, a body he was increasingly seeing as his to do with however he wished.
He reached up for her hands, closed his fingers around hers as she gripped the ring. Pressing his body to hers, he let her feel the aching hardness of his erection against her. She shuddered with a long shaky exhalation of breath. He savored the scent of her as he kissed her hair, nuzzling those curls at the top of her head. Her body seemed even smaller, more vulnerable, as his big frame crowded her against the wall.
“What are you going… to do?”
“What do you want me to do, Lily?”
He felt the slightest of movements of her hips against him.
“You were going to”—she swallowed—”use that. Weren’t you?”
“Use what? I want to hear you say it.” His hand smoothed down the unruly curls of her hair, moving the weight of it to one side to bare the expanse of her smooth skin, to feel the taut muscles of her back.
Captive, Mine Page 9
