Vulnerable [Club Pleasure 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Allyson Young

  Elise was crying and whimpering by the nine count and thought her bottom might combust. When Ross rubbed the heat, she began to beg him, writhing and squirming to no avail against his inexorable hold. Her safe word hovered at the edge of her sanity, but she prevailed and began to slip away to a place that felt calm and blurry. She vaguely heard Ross exhorting her to count and thought she might have done so, but it no longer mattered. She existed somewhere that held only the two of them where she drifted safely, only because he kept her close and grounded. When he stood, propping her on her feet so that he could tip her back into her arms, Elise tried to smile at him, tell him, and was rewarded with a press of his lips on her forehead. He carried her into the dimly lit bedroom and laid her down, first on her side and then over onto her belly, atop a pillow. Elise soaked in the feel of her satin comforter and shams against her disembodied form but had no energy for anything else. When Ross returned, the bed dipping under his weight, Elise thought she might just float away in his direction. She felt a cooling sensation on her buttocks.

  “I have plans for this ass, Elise.” Ross’s voice and dark promise pulled her back. Elise’s gut clenched, and she forced her mouth to open as he drizzled whatever it was between her ass cheeks and onto her anus.

  “I don’t like that,” she tried to say, her voice just a thread of sound.

  Ross made a noncommittal sound, and what had to be his finger pressed against her puckered opening. “Relax, sweetheart. I won’t do anything you won’t want. I promise.”

  Elise kept her eyes closed and searched for that out-of-body experience again, but it was elusive. That finger at her anus wasn’t, though. It was quite tangible and rubbed and pressed with increasing authority until it pushed past the outer ring of muscle and slipped inside. It felt uncomfortable, but it didn’t hurt, not like her other experiences. Her cheeks throbbed and stung though, and as if he read her mind, Ross smoothed more of the cool stuff over them. Elise recognized the scent. He had purloined her stash of cucumber lotion, the best thing for sunburn she had ever found, and she nearly giggled at the thought of it being used for a spanked ass, except she didn’t have the energy. Then the finger had penetrated much deeper, and Elise tried to push it out, only to find that action allowed it further access. She began to pant, the sound really loud in her head. Anal sex had been something to fear, something that hurt and left her in pain for days afterward, but this felt different. It felt forbidden, naughty, and it made her belly coil in little tendrils of sensation. Elise involuntarily squirmed against the smooth bedding and her nipples responded, as did her clit. She heard Ross chuckle above her, and then his hand pushed between her thighs, flirting between her folds to find that little nub. She spread her legs to give him better access, and he chuckled again. God, this was so messed up and so incredibly hot.

  “Please.” Had that little plea come out of her mouth? Ross worked her clit in concert with the finger in her ass and Elise reached for her climax, only to feel his hand pull away from her clit and a finger push up inside of her pussy. She bit her lip against a moan.

  “I need you to relax, Elise.”

  She immediately tensed before again forcing herself to go limp and take whatever he wanted to do to her, for her. He pulled out of her bottom hole, and she felt empty, and this time her moan escaped. More lotion cooled her there and something larger poked and pushed, albeit gently. Elise accepted the intrusion and realized Ross had put two fingers inside of her. He moved them around, and she felt herself being stretched as the finger withdrew from her vagina and returned to rub her clit. She humped his hand, no longer caring about anything but coming.

  “You’ll wait, Elise.” Ross stopped rubbing, and she whimpered in frustration, near tears. Her anus burned a little but the overall sensations, the fullness in her ass, her throbbing clit, her stinging ass, overwhelmed the burn, and she clenched on Ross’s fingers. He thrust them deep and scissored them in a movement that took her breath, and then he pulled them out again. She heard the rustle of tissues followed by the snap of latex and then the blunt head of his cock was nudging her back opening and pushing inexorably inside without pause, and yet being gentle with her. Elise couldn’t describe how she felt. She was full, stuffed full, and any sting of pain was blooming into pleasure. Ross’s chest lowered over her back as he shuttled his cock in and out of her with increasing authority, her heated buttocks rubbing against his pelvis as his sack smacked her pussy.

  “You may touch yourself, Elise.” Ross’s strained tone garnered her attention and Elise reached to her apex where her clit poked out from its sheltering hood. She worked it hard, the copious amount of moisture from her vagina easing her task, and her efforts, combined with Ross’s now-vigorous shafting of her ass sufficed to push her up and over the proverbial cliff. Elise heard her own voice mingle with the sound of Ross’s hoarse groan as he, too, climaxed, his ejaculate filling her with heat even shielded by the condom.

  Ross shuddered above her for another moment before pulling out, and she rocked gently on her hand to prolong the sensation. She felt him leave the bed, and then it dipped again under his weight. He gently cleaned her before rolling her to one side in order to pull the linens back. She obligingly lay on her belly again, only this time with a pillow beneath her head and hissed when he pulled the sheet to cover her abused ass. Ross slid in beside her a moment later and draped an arm across her shoulders. She was exhausted, but all thought of slumber eluded her at his next comment.

  “This isn’t finished, Elise. We are going to talk in the morning. We’ll both take a sick day.”

  She thought about protesting, but his big body quite suddenly relaxed, and she realized he had dropped into sleep. She appreciated how emotionally spent he must feel if it was anything close to what she herself was experiencing, not that she would be able to sleep now of course. Elise didn’t want to talk. She wanted to move forward and leave everything else behind. She didn’t want Ross’s pity, or worse, his disgust and censure. She would lie awake for the second night in a row and figure out a way to make him understand.

  Chapter Seven

  Elise opened her eyes the moment her nose registered the smell of coffee brewing. She was lying on her stomach, a placement she never took in sleep, but the tenderness in her nether regions immediately served to remind her why it was she was in that position. The events of the evening came flooding back and with them her resolution to convince Ross to leave the past alone. She had taken her correction and made amends, and it was never going to happen again. She rolled onto one hip and hitched her way over to swing her feet to the floor without putting any weight on her buttocks. Hooey. That man sure packed a wallop. Her daddy had spanked her and her sisters when they were little, but he had just tapped them for effect. Her ex had hurt her, but had never spanked her. Ross had punished her and at the same time helped her make amends and forgive herself. It was twisted maybe, but it felt quite acceptable, and she would take it.

  She tottered into the bathroom and looked at her bottom, twisting to see herself in the mirror. It was still faintly red, and she thought it was swollen, too. Sitting would be a feat for the next while. At least he hadn’t used his belt. Elise looked at her reflection in not a little amazement. She had just accepted the fact that she would give Ross her submission and accept whatever he wanted to give her and give whatever he wanted from her, because he knew what she needed. Ross appeared behind her, reflected in the mirror, and her heart fluttered at the solemn yet caring look on his face. He was naked from the waist up and his big, muscled torso gleamed in the artificial light, his bare feet looking incongruous beneath his tailored pants.

  “I was going to bring you coffee, Elise, but I see you woke first.”

  Elise suddenly felt awkward and embarrassed and looked down at the vanity. Ross turned her to face him and took her chin in one of his big hands, tilting her head back and forcing her to look at him. His five-o’clock shadow was highly pronounced, and he resembled a pirate. His eyes locked with hers,
and he leaned in to kiss her mouth. “S’okay, Elise. That part is done. You won’t make that mistake again. You will not run from me.”

  She nodded, still unable to respond verbally, and his eyes softened. He helped her lower herself to the toilet, and she did her level best not to show that sitting was a bitch. He then turned to start filling the bath.

  “A soak will help your ass, honey, and I’ll have a look at your bottom hole once you’re done. You hop in, and I’ll go get that coffee. What do you take in it?”

  “There’s sweetened creamer in the fridge,” she heard herself say, the total intimacy of the moment stunning her. He dropped a kiss on her hair and left the tiny bathroom. Elise put her face in her hands and decided she would laugh rather than cry. She carefully wiped herself and then flushed the john, the water pressure dropping in the tub and the sound of roaring water changing in cadence. It kind of resonated with the sound her brain was making.

  It was initially uncomfortable to sit in the tub but she piled her hair up on the top of her head and leaned back, allowing her hips to lift a little and ease the pressure. The lukewarm water actually felt really good, and she closed her eyes only to snap them open when the coffee smell increased in intensity.

  Ross held the cup to her lips and she sipped at the brew, reveling in the sweet, creamy taste overshadowed by the darkness of the java. It was dark like Ross, and sweet like him, too.

  “That chemical crap will kill you, honey. Better you use raw sugar and real cream.”

  Well, maybe not so sweet. Elise stared at him. “It’s my one indulgence, Ross, and not even for you…”

  To her surprise, he laughed and offered her the cup. “Okay, Elise. I’ve pushed you, and this isn’t important right now. What’s the number of your school?”

  Oh, God. He expected her to call in sick. She had never missed a day because of illness, but he was resolute. She recited the number, and he punched it into her cordless before exchanging it again for her coffee cup. Elise hid her annoyance and left a message for the school director, glad she didn’t have to lie to a real person. Ross kissed her sweetly after killing the call and left her to soak and drink her coffee in peace. Right, left her with her roiling thoughts and anxiety. He was going to make her talk to him, share her reasons for standing him up. She didn’t want to talk about her past, and a tear slipped out of her right eye and meandered down her cheek to fall right into her coffee.

  * * * *

  Elise took as long as she dared in the bathroom. After levering herself out of the tub and drying off, she slathered her skin with her favorite lotion, paying attention to every crease and fold. She applied her usual amount of minimal makeup and then braided her hair down the back of her head, securing the end with a frivolous, little, pink tie. Her bottom was still tender but manageable, and she pulled a comfortable pair of cotton panties on, then latched the matching bra. She was contemplating her wardrobe when Ross filled the doorway.

  “Breakfast is ready.”

  Elise had been ignoring the enticing smell of frying bacon and toast in an effort to prolong her absence from the confessional. Her stomach rumbled in response to Ross’s announcement and echoed in the small space. He laughed and moved to pull her to him, wrapping her up tight and speaking against her hair.

  “Lie on your belly for a sec, Elise.”

  She stiffened against him, and he whirled her around, and she found herself face down on the rumpled bedding, her cheek mashed into the corner of the comforter. Before she could give him what piece of mind she could spare, he pulled her panties down to her thighs and gently spread her buttocks. There was a moment of silence, and Elise closed her eyes against it. There was a sensation of cold and a little sting, and then things felt kind of numb. He must have used her topical anesthetic, the one she had for mosquito bites. The ridiculousness of the whole thing made her want to laugh hysterically. Ross pulled her underwear back up and patted her bottom.

  “Put a robe on, honey. I hope you won’t be wearing it long anyhow.”

  Elise felt her nipples harden and her pussy twitch at the suggestiveness of his tone. Was he going to seduce her with both food and sex? She rolled to her feet and went to her closet without looking at him, careful to keep her distance. He cleaned his hands with wet wipes and gave her a noncommittal stare. She pulled her old, wooly robe from the closet depths, the one she wore when she hung out at home by herself, in mute rebellion. Ross’s eyes gleamed, and she knew he recognized the challenge. For a moment she wanted to stamp her foot but tied the robe around her with brisk, efficient movements instead, to bleed the stress off, and then stalked past him. He gently patted her bottom again, and she itched to pinch him.

  The little table was set for two, and if the forks were on the wrong side of the plates, Elise was prepared to forgive Ross that little Miss Manners peccadillo as well as his most recent high-handed behavior in the bedroom because of the wonderful sight of the food he had prepared. There was a bowl of scrambled eggs spotted with green onion and drizzled with cheese, but the pièce de résistance was the perfectly crispy pile of bacon slices reposing on a paper towel spread across a large platter. Ross had even refilled the coffee cups and doctored hers with the killer creamer. She couldn’t help but turn and smile at him, and when he leaned into kiss her, Elise kissed him back with her heart. He truly wanted to take care of her. He had not only said he was invested, he had proved it to her, even if she would need a pillow to sit on at the table. She would try to meet him halfway.

  Ross let her eat a pile of fluffy eggs and several strips of bacon that she mashed between two slices of toast before fixing her with a look. She swallowed the last bite and patted her lips with a piece of paper towel he had used in lieu of the napkins she kept folded on the counter and had apparently been used as wash cloths and towels. “What do you want to know?”

  He shrugged. “Why did you run and hide last night?”

  “I was thinking about us the night before, after you dropped me off, and then my mom called. I told her that we had met, and I must have said something about you being, uh, dominant or in charge or something, because she got really quiet. That’s never a good thing, and she’s almost always right.”

  Elise paused to take a sip of coffee. “You have to know my mother, Ross. I’m her eldest, and we are really close. She didn’t want me to marry Terry, but I wouldn’t listen to her, because I was infatuated. She and my dad had a good marriage, and my sisters and I had a good childhood, basically. They were pretty protective, and if my dad is paternalistic to a fault, he means well. But he would never have interfered in my marriage if it hadn’t been for my mom actually witnessing something. Not that I would have told anyone, you understand. I was too ashamed.”

  Ross stood and began to clear the table, tension evident in every line of his body, and Elise ducked her head. It had started. She had read him wrong. He was already blaming her.

  “Don’t.” The word was spoken with a harshness that belied the look on his face when Elise, startled, brought her focus back to him. “Don’t fall back into that, Elise. I won’t allow it. That’s the kind of shit women confuse with logical, natural surrender to a man who would never deliberately harm them just because he can or because he’s a sadistic prick. That’s what gives men like me a bad name.”

  He dumped the last of the plates into the sink with a clatter that made her wince, and came back to her, pulling her up to her feet and enfolding her in his arms. His body heat comforted her and his strength endowed her with enough courage to continue. Her voice was muffled against his chest, and she rubbed her cheek against him.

  “My ex-husband came from a family who believed women to be second-class citizens, fit only to serve their husbands and take whatever they dished out, accept their lot. I had no idea. I was only seventeen when I married him, and I thought I had the world by the tail. The other girls in my class were so envious that an “older” man was so interested in me. I know now that Terry saw me as a challenge because of my heigh
t, and his dad thought I’d make a great breeder to increase the size of their family. The Coopers always seemed to make boy babies, the better to maltreat women, I’m sure. I thank God on a regular basis that I didn’t get pregnant.” Elise wasn’t yet ready to say why she hadn’t.

  Ross must have heard the bitterness in her voice or picked up on her body language, because he hugged her and then escorted her to the couch. He sat down and pulled her to curl up on his lap and stroked her upper arm. Elise forced herself to relax and get her breathing under control.

  “Let’s just say that the first few months were really great, if schizophrenic. I was attending high school, hanging out with my teenage friends and talking girl stuff and then going home to keep house for my new groom. He tutored me in my bedroom duties as he called them, and I won’t lie when I say that I liked those duties a lot.” She felt Ross stiffen and wanted to laugh a little at his absurd jealousy, although she knew she would be working hard at not thinking about the women he’d been involved with prior to her.

  “I guess we had maybe six months of marital bliss, and then he started hanging out with his brothers and cousins at the strip clubs, coming home drunk and demanding his dinner or sex, depending upon the amount of booze he had put away. The novelty had worn off for him, because he didn’t feel anything for me other than as a sex partner, and I since figured out that it had indeed been infatuation, although I didn’t know what to call it at the time. I wasn’t smart enough to keep my own counsel and bitched at him, as he called it, and he retaliated. At first, it was just shouting and shoving, but then it escalated, and I wouldn’t back down. I stopped going to school because I didn’t know how to explain the bruises on my face or the black eyes. I could cover the rest of my body for the most part, but my face…”