by Fawkes, Sara
Preston’s muttered apologies as he packed up his disgust and self-loathing and ran out the door.
No. Jax wasn’t Preston who had to be told what to do. He wasn’t a man who had to be guided or
led. For the last week, he had manipulated her body, coaxed her to do his will. She wanted that again.
But not just in the ring. She wanted him to take her as far as she could go.
“Yes.”
His eyes darkened and he licked his lips. “Christ. I still have to train you. I don’t want to do
something I’m bound to regret, or that you might regret too. Tell me you want this.”
“I want you, Jax.”
Corded neck tightening as he swallowed, he slanted his lips over hers and kissed her with a raw
animal need that took her breath away. “Marcy.”
Her heart surged as he rasped her name and then his lips were on her again, feathering kisses down
her neck to the crescent of her breasts. He nipped the soft flesh straining above the vee of her tank top
until she was panting beneath him.
“More. Jax...please.”
A deep growl erupted from his lips. “Need to see you. All of you.” He released her wrists and
stripped her with quick efficiency. No gentle slide of clothing. No slow reveal. No brush of fingers
over her heated skin. Within moments she was naked, stretched out on the soft vinyl mat, the cool air
whispering over her body, bared for his pleasure.
His gaze raked over her and then he exhaled a long, sensual breath. “So beautiful.” He cupped her
breasts in his warm hands and squeezed gently before dragging his thumbs over her nipples, circling
them until they peaked.
Marcy’s thoughts scattered. Fevered with desire, she arched into him, offering herself up for his
pleasure. Jax bent down and captured her left nipple, grating his teeth back and forth.
“Oh, yes.” She hissed out a breath.
With a wicked smile, he released her, chuckling when she moaned her displeasure.
“My little fighter’s a bad girl.” He abandoned her breasts for a slow, leisurely torture of her body,
alternating between soft, warm kisses and small sharp nips that left her gasping for air.
When he reached her mound he paused and feathered his fingers lightly over her heated skin.
“Bare.”
Marcy swallowed past the lump in her throat. Some men didn’t like their women bare. Her first
serious boyfriend hadn’t touched her for weeks after her first Brazilian, his lips curling in disgust
when he saw what she’d done.
“It’s easier when I’m fighting.” She gave an apologetic shrug.
Jax smiled and pressed a kiss to her mound, his lips soft and warm on her skin. “Beautiful.”
Then, as if he couldn’t bear to be clothed, he pushed himself away, stripping off his jeans and his
shirt with the same quick efficiency he had used to undress her, before tossing them into a pile on the
mat.
Although she had seen him wearing nothing but fight shorts, it wasn’t until that moment that she
was able to fully appreciate the raw beauty of his body—over six feet of solid muscle and sheer
masculine power. Her gaze followed the ridges of muscle over his narrow hips to his cock, hot and
heavy, jutting from a soft, dark nest of curls, the thick head pink and swollen. A drop of moisture
glistened at the tip. She licked her lips imagining how he would taste.
“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll get ideas that’ll result in a rapid end to this encounter.”
A smile curled her lips. “Next time then.”
Kneeling between her parted legs, he feathered kisses over her breasts and her abdomen, the soft
brush of his lips making her tremble with need. But when he skipped over the curve of her sex and
nipped the soft, sensitive skin of her inner thigh, she gritted her teeth in frustration. Threading her
fingers through his hair, she tugged him up to where she wanted him to go.
“No.” His deep, commanding tone froze her in an instant. She felt the rush of forbidden desire
coiling deep in her belly and a soft moan escaped her lips.
Jax sat up and studied her so intently she instinctively dropped her gaze. When she lifted her head
again, the look he gave her, carnal, warning, seared her to the core.
“Hands over your head.”
She complied without thinking and he grasped her wrists, locking them together, tugging them
higher until her body arched, offering her breasts up for his licking pleasure.
“I know what you need, Marcy.” He sucked and bit one nipple then the other as his free hand slid
between her thighs to cup her sex, pressing his warm palm against her clit. She inhaled a sharp breath
at his possessive touch.
“You want the freedom of submission but you’re afraid to give up control. If I had to guess, I’d
say it’s a need you buried and it’s resurfaced in the ring.”
She shook her head as the feelings of shame she’d carried with her since Preston’s abrupt
departure washed over her, dimming her arousal. “I’m not submissive. I’m a fighter. Always have
been. It’s like you said...I just need it...rough.”
“You need more than that.”
Her thoughts shattered as his fingers slid through her folds, teasing her with the heat of his hand
against her throbbing flesh.
“Some needs aren’t meant to be denied,” he said quietly.
“Yes.” She whispered her confession, her voice thin and raw with desire and a filament of fear.
Just like that, he’d ripped away the veil and peered into her soul. But instead of recoiling as Preston
had done, he accepted...understood.
Tightening his grip on her wrists, he eased one thick finger inside her, then another. Marcy writhed
around the exquisite intrusion. “Oh God.”
With a strangled groan, he leaned over and brushed his lips over her hers, then kissed her so
thoroughly she was in no doubt he wanted her. Nor did she have any doubts about who was in control.
“If we knew each other better, I would restrain you more securely,” he murmured. “Hands and
feet. Spreading you open for me. Available for my pleasure. But that requires a certain level of trust
and we’re not there yet.”
A fierce wave of hunger washed over her and she groaned. Although she ached to be fully
restrained, he was right. Only a few hours ago, she hadn’t trusted him at all.
“Jax.” His name ripped from her throat in a pleading whimper.
“Don’t worry, little fighter. I’ll take care of you.” He paused and swallowed hard. “Have you
played before, Marcy?”
“Yes,” she said softly, incredulous she was having this conversation. “But not much and my
partners weren’t in the lifestyle. They didn’t understand. I went to a fetish club once to learn the
basics—safety, techniques—but I didn’t want to play with anyone I didn’t know.”
“You know me. Do you want to play?” His thumb brushed over her clit. A light touch but enough
to make her gasp, her hips jerking off the floor.
“Hell, yes.” She writhed under his touch aroused as much by the knowledge he understood her
kink, as by the sensations flooding her body.
“So close, aren’t you?” He touched her cheek gently. “Let’s take you higher.”
Chapter Five
“Over you go.”
Without warning Jax flipped Marcy to her stomach and then positioned her on all fours, cheek on
the mat, ass in the
air. Marcy shuddered as he smoothed his hand over her heated skin. Somehow he
could see her deepest desires and was dragging them one by one into the light.
“Should I spank you, little fighter? Punish you for hitting me?”
Craving took hold of her, dark and delicious. She sensed his spanking would be nothing like
Preston’s pathetic raps on her ass. There would be no wrinkling of the nose or twitching of the lips. No
murmured apologies and self-reproach. It would be painful and it would be real.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He parted her legs with a thick thigh and pressed down on her lower back, holding her in place.
“Did you learn about safe words at the club?”
Marcy forced the words through the lump in her throat. “Red for stop. Yellow to slow down. Green
to go ahead.”
“And now?”
“Green.” Anticipation ratcheted through her and shame melted into a need so intense it took her
breath away.
“Have you ever been spanked before?” Jax rubbed deep circles over her ass, bringing the blood to
the surface, warming her up. She knew how it was supposed to work, had guided a few adventurous
boyfriends and Preston through every step. But Jax clearly didn’t need instruction and she trembled
under his touch, desperate for that first smack—the blow that would tell her if he was everything she
had imagined he would be.
“A few times, but it wasn’t good. Not like how I thought. They didn’t know what they were doing.”
Jax’s hand tightened on her lower back. “Lucky for you, I do.”
She froze at the first blow, although it was nothing more than a light slap, her body stiffening, her
breath leaving in a rush. He gave her a moment to recover and then he smacked her again. This time
on the other cheek. An exquisite pain.
Yes, yes, yes. So good.
He set up a steady rhythm, alternating cheeks and quadrants, varying speed and intensity. The
room echoed with the crack of his palm on her skin, the rasp of his breath, and her whimpers turned
cries.
“Breathe,” he murmured. “Use your safe word if you need me to stop.” But he didn’t slow down,
didn’t let up. Not that she wanted him to.
He smacked harder and fire streaked across her skin. With each blow, pleasure and pain coalesced
into a an intoxicating cocktail of desire that sent her mind spinning and made her sex pulse and throb
with need. A low, guttural groan ripped out of her throat, unwanted, uncontrolled.
“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” He smacked her again and again and again until sensation
flooded her brain and she was barely aware of where his hand ended or her body began.
“Easy, Marcy.” His deep voice rumbled in her ear, soft and smooth as bourbon, pulling her back
before he slid his fingers through her soaked folds.
Marcy gasped and tried to jerk away from the unexpected intimate caress, but he held her firm.
“You like being spanked, don’t you? You like submitting to my will.” He trailed her wetness along
her inner thigh and then released her with a sigh. “I would love to take you further but not today.”
As the fog cleared from her mind, she whimpered her displeasure and Jax laughed. “Still don’t
think you’re submissive? I’m not done with you yet, but if I don’t take it slow I might scare you away.
You aren’t the only one with hidden needs, and I don’t think I’ll last.”
With the skill he used to manipulate her body in the ring, he flipped her over, grasping her wrists
with one hand, tugging her arms up and over her head. He jerked her thighs apart, and without
warning, plunged two fingers into her pussy, slick and swollen with need.
“Oh God.” She tilted her hips and ground against him, pulling against his firm grip as her heels
dug into the mat. His thumb pressed down on her clit and pleasure became pain driving her arousal
higher.
“Oh. Oh. Jax.”
And then his mouth, hot and wet, clamped over her nipple and he bit down gently. His fingers
surged deep, rubbing alone her sensitive inner walls until she was bucking and jerking against him.
Too much. Too intense. Her body arced upward, tight as a bowstring as sensation reverberated
through her.
“That’s it,” Jax murmured. “Let go, little fighter. Give it up. Yield to me.”
***
He felt the moment she let go, groaned as she came apart in his hands.
Cock throbbing, he drew out her pleasure, stroking along her inner walls as her sex pulsed around
him, her wetness trickling over his wrist. So fucking wet.
He’d never seen anything so arousing. Never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to be inside
her. Ever.
Finally, she sighed and softened, quivered beneath him. Gently, he withdrew his fingers and
scrambled to find his jeans. In a moment he had retrieved the condom from his wallet and sheathed
himself.
His gaze raked over her beautiful body as he knelt between her parted legs. Her arms were loose
above her head, thighs soft, open. Her pussy, pink and swollen, glistened, beckoned.
She lifted heavy eyes to his, and whispered, “I need you.”
God, this woman was made for him. Naturally, beautifully submissive. A perfect match for his
dominant nature.
“Please, Jax. Don’t make me wait.” She parted her creamy thighs and his control shattered. Within
a heartbeat his cock was pressed against her slick entrance. She whimpered, tilting her hips, an
invitation he couldn’t refuse.
With a low, guttural groan, Jax moved over her, covering her with his body, and sank into her hot,
wet channel. Marcy gasped and arched, pushing against him. Christ. He couldn’t hold out. His hips
bucked and he thrust and withdrew, driving into her slick moist heat over and over again. When he felt
her pussy quiver and tighten, he slid his hand between them and pinched her clit. “Come for me, little
fighter.”
She climaxed with a shriek, her body shaking, trembling violently beneath him.
Too much. Too beautiful. “Fuck.” He hammered into her, his cock thickening, engorging until
finally his spine tingled and pleasure erupted from his body in long, hot, heated jerks.
He collapsed, his chest pressed tight against her breasts. When the fog began to lift from his brain,
he pressed a soft kiss to her cheek, eliciting a tiny shudder from her body.
God. He wanted her again.
Fuck. What the hell had he done?
He pulled away and disposed of the condom. When he returned Marcy was curled up against the
wall, a first aid blanket wrapped around her. Her hair had come free from her ponytail and fanned over
her shoulders in a silken, chestnut wave. Her cheeks were flushed, lips swollen. So lovely, he ached.
A frown creased her brow and she bit her lip. “Is something wrong?”
When he didn’t answer, she bunched the blanket in her fist and stared at the mat. “This doesn’t
mean you have to stop training me...does it?”
Yes. But he didn’t say the word out loud. Before their encounter he’d had some small doubt about
her submissive nature. Now, he had none. And what she needed now was comfort and reassurance. Not
the raw, brutal truth of regret.
“We’ll find a way around the training issue.” He cringed at the meaningless platitude. No doubt
Reid would be able to find a new coach, but then what? He lived on the road, tra
velling from club to
club, never staying for more than a few months in one place. No attachments. No commitments.
No relationships.
No loss.
On some level he’d thought that sex with Marcy would quench the fire that burned within him
whenever she was near. But he’d been wrong. Taking her, discovering they shared similar interests, a
similar kink, had only made him want her more.
He should have let her hit him and walk away.
“You think I’m sexually submissive,” she murmured against his chest.
He brushed his finger under her chin and tilted her head back until she met his gaze. “I know you
are.”
“If I am, what does that make you?”
“I like to be in control.” He smiled, trying to lighten the mood. “Especially when I’m dealing with
a fighter who lacks restraint.”
“You seemed to restrain me just fine.” Her eyes softened and her body melted into him.
Jax’s voice thickened as his imagination ran wild. “I’d like to do a lot more than just restrain you.”
She shuddered in his arms and her cheeks flamed. “I’d like that, too.”
Jax pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Why does it embarrass you? You shouldn’t be ashamed of your
kink. There are lots of people out there with the same needs. Lots of people who can give you what
you want.”
She rested her cheek against his chest. “I’ve always had fantasies, dark fantasies. When I first
started dating, I hid them away. But the more I dated, the harder it became to hide them. I asked my
boyfriends to restrain me or spank me. Once I asked one of them to whip me. And they tried. Lord,
they tried. They wanted to please me. But it wasn’t the same. They weren’t into it. And, although you
say there are lots of people like us out there, I couldn’t find them.”
He stroked his hand down her hair. “They are out there. You just need to know where to look.”
She drew in a ragged breath and then stiffened in his arms. “I had a serious boyfriend in college.
Preston. He was smart, witty, charming, good looking. We shared the same taste in friends and music.
We had fun together. But he was very straight in bed, so I locked away those fantasies and pretended I
didn’t have those needs.”
Jax rubbed his hand up and down her back. He knew what it was like to hide his darkest desires.
