by Lynda Aicher
Deklan studied her, his face still. His lips were pulled thin, forcing his jawline to cut in hard-edged definition. But his deep blue eyes were filled with a mix of compassion that confused her. “No.”
The single word stabbed her, his decision final.
There was no denying the authority that radiated from every fiber of him. The word held little room for negotiation. How could he deny her?
He pushed to rise, and desperation had her reacting. She clenched his wrist, halting the powerful man in midaction. She pleaded with her eyes, despite every instinct that told her to run. That taunting the beast bordered on insanity and would only result in harm. Punishment. His pulse accelerated beneath her fingertips, giving her the push of courage to go with her daring.
“Please.” She squeezed his wrist, the whispered appeal her last hope. She blinked rapidly, trying in vain to hold back more tears. To show him the strength she thought he was looking for. She bit her lip to keep it still but continued to watch him, hoping he understood.
Long moments later, he finally rested his knee back on the floor. His chest expanded with his deep inhale as his free hand folded over hers—holding, not removing. Leaning forward, he spoke softly in her ear, his words for her alone. “Not here.”
She shook her head, his lips brushing over the sensitive shell of her ear with the caress of his breath.
“I won’t hurt you. I won’t touch you without your permission.” He paused to blow a breath of air over her ear. “But I won’t do it here.”
Her entire body shook once again. The trembling moved from the heat of his mouth on her ear, down her spine, over her clenching pussy and out her toes. This time it was in longing and barely suppressed need as his unspoken promise flowed through her.
“You can trust me, Kendra,” he continued once she’d stilled, her breaths increasing to pants as the offer sank in. “You’ll be completely safe with me. I promise.”
The last two words were spoken as a pledge. She whimpered, the needy sound startling her. His cheek grazed the top of her head in a tender brush that was intimate in its gentleness.
“I need the words.” His breath was the only contact on her ear as he hovered above it. His hand tightened over her forgotten hold, reminding her that she still gripped his wrist. The solid beat of his pulse holding her to him. “Will you trust me?”
Trust a Dom, alone. Could she?
“Not in private,” she managed to answer, her voice catching on the parched lining of her throat, knowing she’d just thrown away her chance at finding release. She waited for his reaction, for the anger and disappointment that would come. The next words were automatic, the ones that always followed when she’d done something wrong. “Sorry, sir.”
Sometimes the plea lessened the punishment. Sometimes it had no effect. She squeezed her eyes closed in expectation of the cutting remark. The reprimand and shunning that would come for such disobedience. For embarrassing the Dom in public.
She could take that. It was nothing new. But she couldn’t take the risk of doing anything with a Dom in private. That’s where the real danger stalked. In public he could only go so far with witnesses around. In private there was no one to stop him. No one to call a halt or hear her safe word. Her muscles contracted, her fingers flexing tight on their hold as she flinched away from her memories.
He exhaled a long, slow breath that skirted her neck and sent another shot of heat rippling over her skin before he leaned back. She tracked him, trepidation building as he eased his fingers under hers to transfer her grip from his wrist to his hand.
“Thank you for your honesty.” His voice was filled with patience, the words bordering on a caress. He studied her for a moment. “What do you need, Kendra?”
“Release.” The answer came out almost immediately, as desperate as she was to get it. “Sir.”
He narrowed his eyes, scanning her back before looking to her again. “And you need that for release?” It wasn’t censure in his voice as much as question.
She swallowed and dug up the courage that had gotten her to this moment. “Not the blood. Never that. Or the humiliation and degradation.” She blinked rapidly to hold back the threat of new tears that stung in her eyes. He squeezed her hand but kept silent, waiting for her to finish. His patience was a new experience, something she wasn’t used to. “Just the pain, sir,” she finally finished. “I can’t come without the pain.”
She let her eyes close, hiding behind the darkness to hold herself together. Admitting the truth out loud brought a new level of shame to her already battered confidence. She couldn’t focus on that though, so she searched for something else.
The hiss of a whip reached her ears and the image formed in her mind as the cry of a sub followed. She heard others too. The low, throaty moan from a male close to her bench. The pleading whine from another sub begging for release. She conjured pictures of their pain. The male strapped in a swing, a cock ring preventing him from coming as the Dom stroked a large dildo up his ass. There were nipple clamps too. And his ass cheeks were bright red and hot from the recent paddling.
The other begging sub was covered with little square crop marks patterned over her bottom and the tender flesh at the back of her thighs. She was strapped in a stockade, unable to move away as the Dom teased her clit then retreated, leaving her begging.
A low moan of need vibrated in Kendra’s throat at the visual images she’d created. The scent of sex, sweat and desire made her pussy contract where it was still raised high and open in the air, aching to be filled.
Deklan rubbed his hand up her arm, his palm rough with calluses. The light hint of sandalwood pushed out the other aromas and she inhaled, letting it linger in her senses. Was it his soap, aftershave, shampoo? It fit him. Strong, yet secretive and filled with hidden qualities.
He traced the edge of her mask, his finger light over her cheek, and she opened her eyes. “You would trust me here?” he asked. His head was angled to match hers as he searched her eyes for the answer.
“Yes, sir.” The immediacy of her answer made him smile. Just a hint, but it was more than she’d ever seen on him before.
“Why?”
It was her turn to search him for answers. Did he really want to know or was it some game he was playing? There was only one way to know for certain. “Because you have to listen to me here.”
His fingers stilled on her hair, and she cringed away from the coming anger as his smile flattened. “I would always listen to you. You never have to doubt that.”
Words. They were only words that could mean nothing later. She wouldn’t risk it. Never again.
He straightened his spine, his shoulders pulling back to make his chest appear even broader as his hand fell away from her hair and he looked around the room. She was facing the wall filled with play tools and only now did she remember the circle of people who had been watching the Scene. Were they still there? God, she didn’t want to know.
“No toys.”
She blinked, and her attention shot back to see him studying her. “Okay.”
“Safe word?”
“Lilac,” she said, daring to hope.
“Are you positive?”
More than ever. “Yes, sir.”
He stared at her for several moments longer before he released his grip on her hand and stood. “Keep your hold on the bars,” he ordered. “I won’t strap you in.”
“Yes, sir,” she breathed, too relieved to make her voice stronger. She took hold of the handles under the bench, following his order with a calmness that hadn’t existed before. With Deklan, her nerves eased away to be replaced by a gentle quiet she hadn’t experienced in years.
He stood but continued to stare down at her. “I’m going to spank you. Skin against skin, so you know it’s me who’s striking you.”
She bit her lip to keep the moan from escaping. The image flushed her with heat and made her ache for his touch. “Yes, sir.”
“You come for me, Kendra.” He leaned dow
n to speak in her ear. “I’m not him. Remember that.”
She trembled again, a quick shake that passed through her limbs so fast she couldn’t even process what it was from. Fear, anticipation, nerves? She didn’t know. He pulled back, not even reprimanding her for not answering, and moved behind her.
“Any other limits?” His question made her pause. Of course he asked, but would he listen?
“No nudity,” she said. She couldn’t be that exposed. “No blood or intercourse. And no name-calling.”
“Anything else?”
“No, sir.” The silence that followed was unnerving, but she resisted the urge to seek him out. She would wait for him.
The touch of his warm, roughened palm on her back made her jump, her legs jerking closed only to stop when she remembered her orders. To keep her legs spread. Opened to him.
Chills followed the path of his fingers as he traced the lines that marked her back. She thought she heard him curse, a low, venomous bite, but couldn’t be sure.
He settled his hand on the small of the back, pressing down to hold her to the bench, and she prepared for the strike that was to come. The smack was firm yet yielding against her ass. The sharp crack of skin hitting skin rang like a soothing melody in her ears. Yes.
The tears flowed again as Deklan kept up a steady pace, spanking each cheek in a pattern that let her fall into the rhythm. The tears weren’t in pain or shame or any of the other condemnations that still hounded her. Under this Dom, they were cleansing. He understood what she needed and was giving it to her without judgment.
The sting now encompassed her entire bottom, heat spreading down her thighs and between her legs. She twisted on the thin bench, trying to rub her hard nipples over the edge; the light pull of the weights was not enough to relieve the ache. If anything, it only reminded her more of how neglected the nubs were. Eric had always clamped her nipples so tight that over time they seemed to have lost their sensitivity. Now she realized how wrong that perception was.
“Is this what you need?” The purr in her ear flared her desire. The biting pinch where she was just wishing for contact made her moan.
“Yes, sir. Please...more,” she panted out between gulps of air.
And he did. Flicking the weights until the suns danced under his fingers, the little movements teasing her. She squirmed on the sweat-slicked bench and pushed her chest into the board, trying in vain to get closer to his touch.
She ground her forehead into the leather, the yelp leaving her lips unchecked when his mouth closed over one of her nipples, his teeth trapping it in their grip. Her eyes flew open to see him lying on his back beneath her so he could access her breasts. Deklan’s mouth was warm and wet on her heated flesh as he suckled the nub. He twirled his tongue around the nipple jewelry, flipping the weight before threading the tip through the ring to give it a tug.
It was amazing, the lighter touch doing so much more to her system than Eric’s cruel approach. The ends of his short hair brushed the underside of her arm every time he moved his head, another teasing caress that made her desperate for more. He gave one last nip then switched to the other nipple.
She tightened her grip on the bar, her arms trembling as she struggled to keep her hold. She wanted so bad to let go and hold his head to her breast. To run her fingers through his hair and feel the soft bristles against her palm. But he told her to hang on, and she would.
To please him.
But she watched. It was impossible not to. His eyes were closed, dark lashes long and soft against his cheek. Seeing his jaw and lips work as he played with her nipple made the dual sensation of seeing and feeling what he was doing even more erotic. His deep, woodsy scent surrounded her, almost forcing her to inhale long, slow breaths in an attempt to get more of the drugging aroma.
By the time he finished playing with her nipples and eased out from under the bench, she was almost begging to come.
“Do you want more?” He was asking? Eric never asked.
“Yes. Please, sir.”
His palm returned to her back and a strike followed before she could take a breath in preparation. It landed on her upper thigh right at the tender crease between her ass and leg, the garter strap denting into her skin. The next smack hit right below it, the sting spreading even wider as the two blended together. Then another on her now-sensitive ass cheeks, quickly followed by a strike on her other thigh, then back to her ass.
She couldn’t keep up, his rhythm intensifying until she stopped trying to anticipate. She let go and followed where he took her. Trusting he wouldn’t hurt her.
Maybe that made her a fool, but for the first time in a long time she felt alive. For that she was willing to take the risk.
* * *
Deklan’s hand was on fire, but he wasn’t stopping. Not until Kendra was ready for him to do so. He absorbed every strike into his palm, measuring the intensity of the hit, the amount of skin he struck, the reaction of her body under him.
Only now was she letting go, the tightness easing from her back muscles, her grip on the bar loosening until her knuckles were no longer white. Her skin was smooth under his hands, even the marks on her back, the scar tissue having healed with a minimum of puckering.
He slowed his brutal pace to rest his burning palm against the flaming heat of her ass. She was all muscles, just like she looked. Even there, where she should be soft, the muscles were firm and hard from the hours she spent running. She didn’t jiggle anywhere, and he appreciated the dedication it took to achieve that.
A low moan came from her throat and she pushed her bottom back to press into his resting palm. Sweat dripped from his forehead to fall on the black leather of her boots. She was a vision, bent over the bench like that, boots still clinging to her calves, her stockings and garters a bright blue against her now-red skin. Her pussy was hidden behind the thin strap of her thong. The ruffled garter top flipped up to bare her warm cheeks.
He bent low and inhaled; her scent flooded him. There was no perfume or other smell to hide the pure musky aroma of her arousal. He let his pleasure show in the low growl that rose from his throat.
There was a muffled rumble of approval from the people who still watched the Scene. His earlier scowl had chased away most of the people, yet a few stubborn Doms had remained. But then, an audience had never bothered him before.
Focusing back on Kendra, he eased a finger under the top of the thong and trailed a slow line, following the path of the material down her ass into her crack and forcing her cheeks apart until he rubbed over the little bud of her anus. She pushed back into his touch. Intentional or not, it let him know that she was receptive.
The whole Scene was about giving her only what she wanted and needed. Building her trust. He wanted to beat the shit out of the man who’d taken that from her.
He let his finger rub over the bud, pushing and teasing but going no further. They hadn’t talked about that. Another press and circle, then he moved down to find the wet heat that was waiting for him.
He groaned and leaned forward, almost as if he was seeking the heat he’d found. His cock ached hard and ready, pressed uncomfortably against his leather pants. He rarely wore underwear, preferring the convenience, but now the leather was chafing. A reminder of what this wasn’t about.
She squirmed and whimpered. Her hips undulated as she sought what he was withholding. Relenting, he inserted his finger into her channel and felt the almost instant contraction of the muscles clenching the intruder. Fuck. She obviously worked those muscles too. She pushed back, forcing him deeper, her hips wiggling seeking more. Another time, another sub, he wouldn’t accept such actions.
But she wasn’t someone else.
So he gave her what she was silently begging for. He started with slow thrusts, adding another finger to increase the sensation. He slid his hand from her back and let her move, her pelvis rotating and grinding against him.
She was lithe, wild and beautiful. There were no inhibitions, only reaction and fee
ling as she worked her body on his fingers. Her forehead was pressed into the bench, her spine arching and dipping in a supple erotic dance. The moisture on her skin shimmered under the lights, beckoning him to taste her, lick her, consume her.
A mixed desire to prolong the moment and to end it fast warred with his usual collected calm. Seeing her react to his touch was intoxicating, a drug that eased his tight muscles and diminished the worry that kept his senses on constant alert.
Right now there was just her. Nothing else.
He kept his fingers in her and leaned over, bracing his free hand on the ground until his chest pressed into her back, adding just enough weight to make her completely aware of him without trapping her. “How do you feel?” He murmured the question into the exposed juncture of her neck before trailing his tongue over her skin. Her breath hitched even as she stretched her chin to give him more room to play.
“Good, sir,” she moaned. Her eyes were closed, and he wished he could remove the mask. More than her face was hidden behind the obstruction; he wanted to uncover all of her secrets.
Letting his fingers move within her once again, he tracked his lips up her neck, savoring the taste of her sweat and skin. Tangy, yet sweet. Just like he imagined her pussy would taste.
Bracing his legs on either side of hers to hold himself up, he deliberately ground his erection into the tender flesh of her ass. She hissed in a breath but pressed into him. In that second, that exact moment he’d been waiting for her to reach for the pain, he moved.
He lifted his other hand to twist a nipple while he yanked his fingers from her to pinch her swollen clit. She bucked beneath him, a yelp-mixed moan startled from her, and he ground his hips, knowing his leather pants would irritate and burn against her freshly spanked flesh.
“Come, Kendra,” he commanded between gritted teeth.
She convulsed beneath him, arching and lifting him with the force of her orgasm. The sounds of her pleasure mixed with his own growl as he checked his desire and concentrated on extending hers. He stroked her clit, wanting nothing more than to sink into her. Doing the next best thing, he thrust his fingers in her, her vaginal muscle gripping him instantly. The spasms rippled over the digits and blew his mind with the power and the image of how that would feel around his cock.
