by Gina Kincade
“I will be,” she assured him. “Gatorade?”
He set the bottle within her reach and she finished it off.
“I think I need to lie down.”
Curtis nodded. “Yeah, me too. Come on.” He led her to his bed. “I’m not going to be able to stay awake long. It was a hard week.”
“Oh? That’s okay. I can see myself out.”
“Thanks, Lexy. Feel free to grab breakfast, shower, anything.” He flopped on the bed.
“I’ve always wondered,” she said, curling up with him, “why you do this as soon as you get off work? Wouldn’t it be better to sleep first?”
Curtis yawned. “Maybe. I have so little control during my week that I like to take it back as soon as I can. Also, I like replacing any terrible events with happier ones.” He stroked Alexa’s hair over the pillow.
“Given your work, that makes perfect sense.” She gave a loud, heavy sigh. “I hope your ambulance never comes my way.”
Curtis kissed her head. “Me too.”
***
Melody pulled her arms as far as the ties to the bed frame would allow. She lay spread-eagle with her first Dom looking down at her lovingly.
“Too tight?” Damon asked.
“No, not at all.”
Melody winced as he slapped her breast hard. She longed to prove herself and made the necessary correction. “I mean, no, sir. Thank you.” Being tied up alone had gotten her wet, and now she was more than ready to surrender to this man.
Damon’s expression hadn’t changed. His deep brown eyes still a mysterious mix of warm and cold. “That’s right. Now, should we start with the familiar?” He held up a bright pink rabbit and turned it on.
Melody licked her lips. “Yes, sir.”
Damon ran his hand over the short hair covering her sex, forking around her clit. Melody tensed in anticipation of his touch. His fingers fell between her folds and spread them open. His middle finger curled up between the others to flick her clit.
She let out a sigh, embracing the rush that followed his caress on her most sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Hmm, let’s do this a little longer, shall we?” Melody saw a drop of saliva fall from his mouth onto his finger and it moved more easily over her exposed nub.
The continued circling went from a zing to something closer to burning. She pulled against her bonds again, this time bending her knees, wanting to shift in or out of that touch—she wasn’t sure which. The hold on her ankles dug in with her attempts, the plush lining stopping it short of pain. Too well secured, all she could manage was to shift her hips a little to the left or right.
“Hold still, Mel,” Damon said, putting his free arm down across her hips, helping to pin her. He kept up his teasing until the thought she’d scream. Continuing to burn, each new circle made her more crazed than the last. Despite how hot it made her, she didn’t quite reach orgasm. Her empty pussy ached and clenched but found no purchase, making her squirm even more.
“Fuck, that’s maddening. I want to squeeze something in my pussy so badly.”
“Do you? Well then.” He picked up the rabbit and inserted it. “There you go. Come for me.”
Melody didn’t need a lot of coaxing, just a few more strokes on her clit and she clamped down on the toy and ground her hips into the mattress. The fire that had been concentrated in that one spot shot through her blood and made her whole body burn.
“Oh, yeah, sir. Yes.”
He pinned her clit under his finger, wiggling it very slightly side to side and Melody arched her back. Her sensitivity had passed from pleasure and approached pain.
Keeping her clit pinched, he started rocking the rabbit in and out of her with her grinding hips. That rubbed exactly where she needed it, where she wasn’t already burned. She wanted more, more fucking, more rubbing. She wanted to squeeze the toy with her entire channel. Practically growling, she met the toy in deep thrusts, coming again around it.
“Good girl,” Damon crooned as she relaxed on the pillow panting as though she’d run around the block. The heat of her skin and the cool contrast of sweat drying, along with the ache in her thighs and buttocks, added to the running analogy. “Keep coming for me, love.” He flicked on the rotating beads inside the rabbit and started fucking her with it again.
Melody didn’t rise to the challenge immediately, feeling almost a bit numb, but that was fleeting and soon the toy was pushing against her tightening muscles, staining them. She squeezed her eyes tight, and her pussy did the same, making the motor of the rabbit falter.
Damon beamed at that. “Yes, Mel, fuck that toy. Break it. Damn you’re strong.” He hadn’t released her clit, but as she relaxed, he pulled his fingers away, using them to hold her lips open so he could press the vibrating ears of the rabbit right into her.
She thought her clit had dulled to an ember, but the vibrating silicone proved her wrong. One breath she was in some control, squeezing the toy inside her, and the next she was blinded by pleasure, more than she could withstand. She screamed and thrashed as much as she was able.
Damon kept her at that until she begged for a break. “Please, please. No more. Too much.”
“Too much?” he scoffed. “Not yet. A little more.”
Thankfully, a little was only a couple breaths and Melody huffed and puffed, trying to get them back. “Th-thank you, sir,” she managed, her eyes still fluttering.
“Rest, Melody.” He released the cuffs on her wrists. “When you’re ready, we’ll try something else.” The mattress shifted, bending under his weight as he sat at the foot of the bed and removed the cuffs from her ankles as well.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” Her gasping continued a little longer, but soon she was breathing normally again.
“Rest.” He stroked her hair even after her pulse had stopped thudding in her ears. His cool breath blew away drops of perspiration and made goosebumps pop out.
“Thirsty?” Damon held a large tumbler of water and Melody took it in both hands, slurping and gulping as much as she could. Half-way through the glass, her throat seized and she coughed, spluttering to get water out of her throat.
“Wrong way,” she rasped, still coughing while handing the glass back. He clapped her on the back until she straightened, sitting up on the edge of the bed.
“Ready for more?” His grin revealed dimples in his stubble shadowed cheeks that made her think of cherubs, or boys making mud pies. It was far too innocent for someone who had lascivious plans.
Melody’s cheeks tightened in a reflected grin. “Yes, sir.” She stood and only after realized that he probably wanted her on the bed.
“Give me your wrists.” Damon’s voice was muffled as he bent over a drawer. He came out with a length of black rope. He wrapped a loop around both her wrists and circled perpendicular to her arms twice.
Soft and silky rope snaked across her skin, making Melody rub her thighs together. Next, he dropped the end between her elbows, brought it up between her palms, and did that twice. Melody’s breath caught the more entangled she became, but the rope didn’t move up her arms. Instead, Damon slung the rope through a metal hook in the ceiling. Melody blinked against the bright light that was only a foot from the hook, making it gleam. He pulled the end until her arms were nearly straight up and tied it to the bed post.
“Go ahead. Test it.” He checked the knot again before approaching her.
Melody tugged, working her wrists against one another to see if she could slip one out. “It’s good,” she said.
She hopped up on her toes as a stinging heat bloomed on her ass cheek. Unable to decide if it was more painful than pleasurable, Melody answered, “It’s very good, sir.”
“I think you need a bit more of this, don’t you?” Not waiting for an answer, he spanked her again.
Yipping at each slap, she tried to count them. When she reached ten, they came so close upon on another that the flare across her bottom barely had time to spread before it was repeated. The yips turned to
a whine. “Ow,” she said with a slight sob. It wasn’t bad enough to make her cry, but it did interrupt her breathing, which had much the same effect.
She couldn’t see Damon standing behind her for the spanking, but when he circled, her eye caught his dark, curled chest hair, and followed it down in a trail that ended at the condom-clad cock standing erect for her. She was so enthralled by the sight and the ideas it conjured that she didn’t notice the flogger until he swung it.
The beige-brown flared ends blended away into Damon’s skin and the neutral walls of the room, making it hard for her to follow. He stood far enough from her that the implement didn’t land in heavy thuds. It only flicked her nipples and brushed her skin. Twisting and bending, Melody tried to escape the ticklish result. Damon took a step closer.
The tiny flicks on her nipples turned to stinging snaps and she continued to dart, turning right, not from pain but reflex. Damon didn’t stop her, coming closer still and lashing the flogger over her side and back. She expected more pain than she received, and the heavy swipes took several strokes to hurt. She flinched away, trying to shield herself but only succeeding in exposing her front again. By turning as she did, she avoided taking too many hits in one place, spreading the pain over more skin and waking her nerves to what would come next.
Damon swung underhand and she jumped when the leather connected with her inner thigh and pussy. The snap left a red mark and she stared at it in wonder until he laid another alongside it.
“Ow,” she whimpered.
“Oh, does that hurt?”
She met his gaze, afraid the taunt was serious. His eyes were warm and she relaxed.
“It’s supposed to hurt,” he reminded her and brought the flogger up again.
“Ah!” Melody arched her back. She had to get away from those stinging flails. She stretched up on tiptoes, her calves twisting and kinking.
“Mel!”
Pulling against the rope, it took her a split-second to notice it wasn’t stopping. Her stomach lurched for that moment in which she seemed to hover. Falling, she tried to reach out to brace herself, but her wrists tied together didn’t go where she needed. The corner of the bedside table grew large in her vision, filling it. Blackness replaced it.
Chapter Two — Fifty Beads of Christmas
“Mel, can you hear me? Wake up.”
Everything was still black but stars pricked at the corners of her eyes. Iron tang filled her nose and mouth. A roar clouded Damon’s voice, almost damping it out completely. Her head seemed to be the only body part she owned—a large, throbbing head. Slowly she opened her eyes and found a world turned red.
“Yes, she’s waking up now. I’m trying to, but it just keeps bleeding. Yes, I’ll ask her.”
The thought of turning her head or rolling onto her back seemed as likely as climbing Everest, so she remained on her side while her eyes looked in the direction of Damon’s voice. He held his phone and now that she was listening, she could make out some of the words coming through its speaker.
“Mel? Can you wiggle your toes?”
She weighed that request. It wasn’t as daunting as getting up, so she gave it a shot. “Cold.”
“She can wiggle them. She says she cold.”
“If she can hold the dressing, you can get her a blanket,” a matronly voice said through the phone.
“Okay. Mel? Can you put your hand here?”
He touched her hand and the contact seemed to bring it back to life. Even so, he had to put it to her forehead. Sticky wetness coated her fingers and Damon’s hand adhered to hers for a second as he rose. Blood. It was blood on his hands and now on hers.
Damon draped a blanket over her just as a siren wailed in the distance. It grew loud and shrill until it cut off completely.
“The ambulance just got here,” Damon told the woman on the phone.
The woman said something else, but Melody was all in her head again. Her hand still held the soaked cloth to her head, but she didn’t really feel her fingers, just her head.
Damon disappeared to answer the banging on the door, but he came right back flagged by two others.
Melody lay mute while the paramedics dropped to the floor beside her. One took her wrist and the other fit a collar around her neck, carefully avoiding the wadded cloth Damon had applied.
“What’s her name?” the one holding her wrist asked. She couldn’t see him standing behind her. The one in her view had pulled out a long strip of gauze and was wrapping it around her head, over the blood-soaked bandage.
“Melody,” Damon said.
“Melody? Can you answer me, Melody? How long was she out?”
The man in front of her was paler than Damon but had the same curly dark hair and shadowed jaw. She watched him while he focused on her head, his fingers moving with practiced care.
“Uh, a few minutes? Three?”
The paramedic bandaging her noticed her gaze. “Melody? Can you hear me?”
“Uh, uh, do.” If her head didn’t weigh a million pounds, she would shake it to clear it. “Yum,” she tried again. Well, he was yummy, but that wasn’t helpful.
“That’s good, Melody. Did you hold that bandage?” he asked, pointing to her head.
Confusion made her squint and that lit new sparks in her vision as pain erupted from her oversized head.
“Can you touch your head?” he asked.
“Is she going to be okay?” Damon asked.
The man behind her answered, but it was fuzzy as Melody focused on the man she could see. He pointed to her hand and then wiggled his fingers.
Although she’d been sure all she had was a head, she found her hand on the floor and wiggled her fingers at him. “Ready to move her?” he asked his partner.
“Stand back, please,” the man she couldn’t see told Damon.
Two hands slid under her and two others held the shoulder and hip she wasn’t lying on. The room spun as they shifted her onto her back.
“Does she have any clothes?” the man with dark curly hair snapped. His patience with her did not extend to Damon.
“Yeah, yeah, here.” Damon dropped her dress and bag on top of her feet.
Wheeled out on their gurney, Melody finally saw the man who had been at her back. He was large and black, white teeth gleaming in his bright smile that seemed to dance around. Every bump and bounce made it jump. Added to that, when her head jostled, stars filled the corners of her vision and her stomach twisted. She groaned, closed her eyes, and prayed it would stop soon.
“Another sex gone bad,” the black man said.
“Yeah, ever since Fifty every guy with a pair of handcuffs thinks he’s the new Grey.”
“Ugh. Don’t talk to me about that shit.”
Melody wanted to complain, to tell them that Fifty Shades of Grey was a fabulous book and that she wasn’t just some groupie, but once again, her words betrayed her. “Christmas.” Really?
“Yeah, Christian Grey,” the one with curly hair said. “I could whip him around the block. And unlike your boyfriend, I’d make sure your bonds held.”
She blinked several times, trying to resolve what she saw into one image instead of five. Maybe it was best to keep them closed.
His partner answered, “Damn, is that what happened? How’d you know?”
“The rope on the floor and the way he kept trying to not look at it. You didn’t notice?”
“Hell, no. I’m not into that kinky crap.”
“Bead.” And with that last failed attempt, Melody decided it would be better to keep her mouth shut along with her eyes.
“Yeah, Little Song, BDSM. He’s too vanilla for that. Can you imagine? Someone as chocolate as him being vanilla?”
“Fuck you, Curt.”
“Fuck yourself, Don.”
Being dumped into the back of the ambulance brought bile to Melody’s throat. Her head bounced off the gurney, making her whimper in pain.
They split up then and Curt climbed into the back with Melody while Do
n slid into the driver’s seat. When she was still for a few seconds, she dared to open her eyes again.
Curt didn’t look at her, fishing for things in the many boxes and bins secured to the walls. He produced a needle—or were there six?—and put it in her vein, and taped it in place. Her arm came to life and she flexed her fingers. At the same time her stomach lurched. Another needle appeared, but he didn’t have to stick that one in her, just into the tube he’d already inserted.
“Okay, Little Song. I’m going to lecture you while you try not to puke all over me. Please try not to puke all over me, okay?” He set a plastic lined paper bag in her IV-free hand.
“What’s her GCS score?” Don shouted from the front as he pulled away.
“Thirteen. How well did you know Romeo?” While he talked, he pulled a blanket over her, reminding her she was naked as he folded it down to just above her nipples. White sticky pads were pressed to her skin with wires trailing away out of her line of sight.
“Rome?” she asked. Hey, that was really close to what she’d wanted to say. Things began to look better too. As they started to move, she went from seeing two of everything to four, but now, there were only two and one of those was fading away. Unfortunately, her stomach decided it had had enough with the double vision and revolted. She tried to bring up the bag and roll onto her side, but the brace made it more difficult. She missed, vomit hitting the side of the gurney.
“Well, at least you missed me. Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “Happens all the time. That shot I gave you should help the tummy. So, yeah, I want to know about lover boy, Dom of the Dumb.”
“He-he’s not bad.” The words were coming more clearly, but it was still a struggle to say them.
“He’s not bad.” Curt snorted typing into a laptop computer. “Let’s get back to your body. Before handing the reins over to someone, you have to be damn sure he’s going to treat it properly. The best Doms have used all those implements on themselves. He should have had a proper rig. Dumbass.”
