“No,” I repeat, as adamantly as before.
“Hear me out?” my brother pleads. When I give a hesitant nod, he looks at Rais. “I’ll come down too. Not only will you have a safeword, but the assurance that should you need to use it, I’ll be within earshot.”
“I’m not letting my brother see me naked in a dungeon.” My face fills with horror.
“Certainly not,” both Rais and Nijad exclaim together.
Nijad gives a quick grin. “I said within earshot, nothing about within sight.”
I look up at the man who’s dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt which hugs him as though the sight of his body will tempt me. And it certainly does… Well, that part of me that isn’t thinking straight. The other part reminds me how much I hurt. “I don’t think this will work, Rais.” Even to me, my voice lacks fortitude.
Seeing an opening and snatching it, Rais comes and kneels on the floor in front of me. His hands move as if to touch mine, then he lets them drop back down at his sides. “Give me a chance. I need this, and I think you do too. One chance. If that doesn’t work,” his voice catches, “you can be on the next plane to London.”
His dark eyes shine with earnestness, the bruises doing nothing to mar the rugged beauty of his face. Sitting back on his haunches at my feet, it’s only his hands clasping and unclasping that betray how worried he is that I’ll refuse.
Nijad will be there. I have a safeword. I can stop at any time.
Not at all sure I’m doing the right thing, I stand. “I correct my previous statement. I know this won’t work. If you promise after this you’ll never try to see me again, Sheikh, then I’ll come with you and give you one last chance.”
Chapter 42
Rais
She’ll give me this. Yet she’s convinced there’s nothing I can do to make her trust me again, her words making it clear I’ve only got one stab to put things right, and if I fail she’ll leave Amahad, possibly never to return. I’ve hurt her too much, and maybe I’ll have to accept in doing so I’ve lost her forever. I exchange a pained glance with Nijad, he gives me a confident nod. He’s given me the best advice he can. I can only hope what he suggested, along with the ideas I have of my own, will bring her back to me.
I’m not surprised when she pulls back her shoulders and leads the way down to the dungeon, stepping aside to let Nijad put his spare key into the lock. The original I had had, of course, but somewhere along the way, mislaid.
Stepping into the darkened area, Nijad flicks on the lights, then crosses to the same wingback chair I’d used to spank her, turning it so it faces the wall, and sits down. He’s immediately hidden from view.
Aiza stands rigid, her back towards me. Pulling my t-shirt over my head, I decide my first instruction might be easier for her to obey without having to face me. In fact, I debate whether to put my shirt back on, my torso a mass of purpling bruises, then decide if there’s a chance of once again feeling her skin against mine, I’m going to take it. Even if it might be for the last time.
“Take your clothes off, Aiza.” My voice has lowered a tone.
She hesitates, and I’m not certain what she’s going to do until she says snidely, “It’s not as if you haven’t seen it before, I suppose.”
As I see her take her arm out of her sling to awkwardly undo her buttons, I think to myself, brat, remembering the term Nijad’s used to describe wayward subs in the past. Often, and fondly, in reference to his wife. As she struggles, I offer to help. “Do you need a hand?”
“No.”
The snapped word shows she doesn’t want me anywhere near her. Does she not trust me even to touch her? Or does she not trust herself?
“No isn’t your safeword, Aiza,” I remind her as I move forwards and reach my arms around her to undo the buttons she’s having a problem with. “How sore is your arm?”
“It feels a little stiff, not too painful. The sling’s only a precaution to give it support.”
My hands untie the ribbon holding her trousers up, and once released they fall to the floor. I start pushing down her pants.
“No.”
“Do I have to remind you again?” My voice is low, gravelly. Now, when I undo the clasp of her bra she allows the garment to fall. She’s naked before me, and while my eyes can only feast on that perfect heart-shaped arse, my recently abused cock twitches and starts to lengthen. Internally I sigh with relief, having feared Nijad had done permanent damage.
Willing my dick to behave, I remove a silk blindfold from the rear pocket of my jeans. “I’m going to blindfold you now, Aiza.”
“Shouldn’t we be having a negotiation? You need to explain what you’re going to do, and I need to agree,” she huffs, as if I don’t know what I’m doing.
I inch closer, not enough to touch her, she’s not ready for that, just so she’ll feel the heat of my body against her back. “I’m going to use the bondage table,” I begin.
“I don’t want to be bound.” Her body stiffens, probably in memory of how she’d been tied up by al-Fahri’s men.
“I understand. I’m not going to tie you down, Aiza. I do want to take one of your senses away.”
I give her a moment to decide, and when she nods. I place the blindfold around her head, making sure it’s not too tight, and that she will be unable to see anything. Now, I want her to get used to obeying me. With her ability to see eliminated, she has no alternative.
“Take two steps forwards. That’s right. Now one to the left. Move forwards again. Now, stop. Put out your right hand. Can you feel the table in front of you?”
Her fingers move and explore. It’s a padded bench which will support her torso, and an inverted V which will support her legs.
“Can you get onto it, or do you need help?”
For an answer, she pulls herself up, and I take it she’s familiar with this piece of equipment.
“I don’t know why we’re even doing this, Rais. It won’t work.”
Ignoring her statement, I tell her what I want her to do. “Lie on your back. Put your arms beside you and lay your legs flat.” For the moment I’ve pushed the leg rests together. I can open them when, hopefully, she becomes more relaxed.
I deepen my voice. “As I said, Aiza, I’m not going to physically bind you. You will be bound by my voice. Keep still and do not move.”
Watching, I see goosebumps appear on her skin, a physical display that she’s not unaffected. Crouching, I delve into the box which Nijad had placed here for me. All brand-new toys, still in their wrappings. As I break the plastic on one, she shivers.
“Remember your safeword, Aiza.”
She nods. “I’m not usually on the receiving end.”
“Today you are. Relax, habiti.” I lift the flogger with very soft leather strands, trailing it over her stomach. Her mouth opens and closes, her brow lined. I reckon I’m very close to her calling the whole thing off.
Lifting the flogger away, I then bring it down on her skin, so softly it’s like a caress. Then I do it again, and again, getting into a rhythm, too gently for it to do more than give a slight sting, just sufficient to start to give her skin a pinkish tinge. Unlike my darker skin, hers is comparably light, and I can easily see it beginning to glow.
A stroke to her stomach and then to her thighs, and then further down her legs. As she’s holding them tightly together, I can do both at once. When I reach her feet, I let the leather strand bounce off her soles, causing her to jump. Then I start moving upwards again, keeping a regular beat, as I move her soft tummy, then up to her breasts. She starts to relax, then tenses as the leather strands touch her nipples. As they start becoming erect, I surmise it’s from pleasure, not fear.
Methodically striking her, keeping to a regular tempo, I continue to use the flogger. Gradually her face muscles, which had been drawn into a frown, start to lose their stiffness, and the lines start to recede from her forehead. Continuing the tender onslaught up and down her body, I only stop when she’s totally loosened up, and
unwittingly her legs fall open, allowing me a glorious view of her pink pussy. A sight I’d almost given up hope of ever seeing again.
When I step away from the bench, she doesn’t move. Taking two more items from the toy box, I run a soft paintbrush over her erect nipples. She strains up into my touch. Then I carefully use the other implement I’m holding, this one with harsh metal teeth. She lies flat down again. Alternating between them, I gradually make my way back down her body, then return to her nipples again.
She doesn’t know which I’ll use. A gently stroke, or a scratch with the coarse metal.
When I widen the V, opening her more, she doesn’t protest, seemingly unaware of what I’m doing. Her clit’s now exposed, as well as her pussy, which has started to glisten. Using the soft brush, I paint her own arousal over her clit, and then touch it lightly with the metal prongs.
Then repeat.
She moans.
While running the metal brush over her nipples, I use the other to circle that bunch of nerves. When she tenses, I move it away. “Aiza,” I start, keeping my voice calm. “Everything I said to you was the truth.”
She stiffens. “You said everything you did was for Amahad.”
I go back to stroking. Gradually raising her level of arousal again, her tension turns into something else, and I chance speaking once more. “Amahad is you, and you are Amahad. I wanted to free you from that bastard once and for all.”
Another moan, and her mouth works as she struggles to speak, not knowing whether her head should respond to my words or her body to my touch. My aim is to get both on the same page.
“You could have killed him in that tent.”
In a conversational tone, I explain why I couldn’t. “Al-Fahri’s men outnumbered mine. He could have killed me, and then where would you have been? I couldn’t take that risk. We had to get him on the path so he was trapped.”
“Ah, uh, oh…” I stop what I’m doing and move the flexible bristles to her nipples. “The things he said to me. How could you stand there and let him threaten me like that? If you cared…”
“I cared.” It’s hard to keep my voice even. “I fucking cared, Aiza. I had to focus on the thought of Fuad’s bullet going into this head, seeing in my mind his blood and brains scattered. And Fuad wasn’t going to miss. There was no chance of that. That’s what I was thinking about.”
“You…oh!” I’m torturing her clit once again. “You could have warned me.”
“I thought about it. I didn’t think you could pull it off. It was your genuine reaction that made him careless. He didn’t expect an ambush. He thought he had me exactly where he wanted me. It fucking killed me to let you go off with him. I consoled myself knowing he wouldn’t have you for long, and that soon you’d be safe.”
Touching her for the first time, I lower my head, using my tongue to lick her slit then circle her clit. As the bud stiffens, I close my lips and suck that tender bundle of nerves sharply into my mouth, then I can’t resist having a taste of that pussy I had feared never to touch again. Her body is trembling, her legs twitch. I put a finger inside her, then my mouth returns to her clit. Her thighs move of their own volition, her muscles tightening and trapping my head. Having teased her mercilessly for so long, she goes off like a rocket, her scream of release echoing around the dungeon. I cast a quick glance to the wingback chair. If I hadn’t known he was there, he could be invisible. Nijad gives no sign of his presence.
It’s not as if it isn’t like any other dungeon he’s been in.
My hands move to her tits, desperate to feel them. As my fingers pinch her nipples, she presses up rather than evading me. Widening her legs once again, I can’t resist lowering my head. As I do, I tense, a flashback hitting me as I hear Fuad’s voice echoing in my mind telling me she’s thrown herself into the canyon.
As the memory of my horror and fear come back to me, trembling as I rear up, my plans flying out of the window, unable to do anything except cover my body with hers, to feel her warm skin next to mine. My mouth almost touches her lips, and I’ve lost control of my voice, which breaks as I go off script and I tell her, “Aiza, habiti. I thought you were fucking dead. All I wanted to do was die with you. Aiza, my love. When I knew, when Fuad said he’d watched you fall to your death… Aiza, oh, Aiza.”
Disobeying my instruction, she moves her arms, bringing both around me, her hands smoothing my back, giving me the comfort I was supposed to be giving to her. Her fingers move to the back of my skull, pushing my head down on her chest.
“I love you, Aiza. I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you. There’s never been, or will be, another woman for me. If you can’t trust me to be beside you, I’ll leave you alone, but never doubt wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, I’ll always love you.”
She’s holding me tight as she processes my words, and I hope, fuck it, my whole life depends on her giving me the right answer.
I don’t give a damn she’s topping from the bottom when she suddenly calls out. “Brother, leave us. Unless you want to see your sister get screwed.”
Nijad barks a laugh. I’m lying, covering her body as he walks past, close enough to pat me on the shoulder. The door to the dungeon opens and shuts, and we’re alone. She trusts me enough to lose her safety net. Though she’s given no commitment yet. It’s a start.
Raising my head, I bring my mouth to hers, knowing she can taste herself on me, plunging my tongue into her mouth, relishing the chance to do something I never thought I’d do again. The kiss starts soft, both of us hesitant, me not wanting to rush this, her uncertain she’s doing the right thing. She smells heavenly, that beautiful natural perfume which fills my nostrils, inciting me, making my cock feel like steel. Her hand on my head trying to hold me closer, and I swear sparks fly between us as we deepen the kiss until our lips meet with almost punishing pressure, her mouth bruising mine as our tongues twist and slide, our flavours combing until it’s hard to tell one from the other. The dungeon is silent around us, no sound filters down here. All we hear are the harsh gasps for breath when we come up for air before putting our mouths together again. So many emotions go through me, the memory of my anguish when I thought I had lost her, the love that I feel that I’m trying to convey, an embryonic hope that she’ll forgive me.
The more I kiss her, the more I know it isn’t enough. Regaining some semblance of control, I pull away with a strangled cry, growling my next instruction. “Keep still.” Then I move down her body, sucking her nipples, using my tongue to press them one by one to the roof of my mouth, biting down gently, seeing her jump and enjoy the bite of pain. Continuing downwards, kissing my way across her stomach until I reach my personal utopia, my own slice of heaven.
My fingers enter her tight sheath as I lick her most sensitive nub. She moans as I suck, then gently use my teeth, then repeat the process, all the time curling my fingers up inside her. When her muscles start clenching I pull away, undo my zip and shrug my jeans down and quickly sheave myself with a condom, knowing she’d given me permission when she dismissed her brother. Pushing her legs further apart so she’s wide open to me, I can’t wait any longer. Lining myself up and thrusting in, filling her completely. Then pause. I thought I’d lost her, would never feel her like this ever again.
Tears come to my eyes as I start thrusting. Again she disobeys me, though I’m not going to complain as her legs come up and around me, allowing me to go deeper. I watch, entranced as my cock appears and disappears into her sweet cunt. The one only I have been in.
“I’ve dreamt of this, habiti. I never want to lose you again,” I growl, my voice deep with emotion.
“I want you so much,” she confirms between gasps for breath. “Make me yours.”
I thrust in deep, then lean over, pressing my lips against her cheek. “Do you mean it?”
“Rais, oh Rais. Yes.”
Those glorious words. I’ll make her mine so she’ll never want another. When I start moving again I could no longer stop even if I wan
ted to. The tingling that runs down my spine, making my balls tighten, threatens to break my control. The way she’s moving with me, pushing back against me, those little groans and sighs coming out of her mouth. I know I won’t be able to last much longer. Any control I had has been lost.
“Come for me, Aiza,” I command…or plead. It’s hard to tell which at this moment.
As my fingers work her clit, her legs go tight around me and her internal muscles clench down. She cries out as my cock swells, reaching the point of no return, and I shout, “Fuck, Aiza, habiti… I’m coming.”
I never expected to have the chance to do this again, to feel her perfect cunt strangling my dick, to feel my seed flooding the barrier between us.
“You’re mine, fucking mine. You don’t have a choice, Aiza. I’m never letting you leave me.”
My cock’s still pumping, emptying everything I’ve got into her. Both of us are panting as at last I collapse over her. “Fucking mine, Aiza.”
Chapter 43
Aiza
As my breathing returns to normal I realise my hands are running up and down the smooth skin of Rais’s back, while knowing this is where I’m meant to be. He’d been right, using my own Dominant skills against me, getting me into a place where I would listen rather than letting my fears rule me. Deep down I always knew that Rais wouldn’t have wanted to hurt me. I find it hard to trust anyone. Up to now, I’ve only been able to rely on myself.
My family hadn’t been there for me, I couldn’t depend on them, I had no one to lean on. Of necessity, my Domme side never relaxed or turned off completely, always wanting, needing, to take charge. When I thought Rais had let me down, it was easier to retreat and hide in my natural inclination to count on no one but myself. People make mistakes. Nobody’s perfect. Rais was at fault. I understand the argument that if forewarned I might have given everything away to al-Fahri just shows he had no confidence in my acting skills, or my love for my country. If he had warned me, I’d never have gone over that cliff edge.
Hard Choices (Blood Brothers #6) Page 36
