“That was good. Now, put me back in my pants and then stand.”
Her hair hung in waves down her back, lightly mussed from his hands. He would leave it that way. He took her wrists and placed a cuff on each one.
“Follow me.”
Walking to the spanking bench, he took the ankle cuffs from his pocket. “Your safeword is ‘broccoli.’ Is there anything you don’t wish to do this evening?”
“No, sir.”
He took her at her word and helped her lay across the bench with her ass a little below his waist. Securing the ankle cuffs, he then spread her thighs and snapped the cuffs in place to keep her legs apart.
Her wrists were next. He twirled her hair a few times then placed it over her shoulder displaying the lovely curve of her bare back and her delectable ass.
He knew it would hurt without the throws of orgasm but he wanted his teeth marks on her ass before he reddened it further. He gave her no warning just bent down and bit the top fleshy part of her ass cheek.
“Awwhee!” The air left her lungs with the sound of her pain. He rubbed the angry marks and admired how they looked.
“I know you behave like the appropriate slave with Monroe, but your behavior is slightly bratty with me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it, but I will let you decide if you enjoy the consequences of your actions after this and leave the decision to you. Say your safeword.”
“Broccoli, sir.”
He bit her other cheek a little harder than the first. “I need to test your limits and have an idea where we can go from here. If you say your safeword again I will stop immediately and we will end our play. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
He could hear a slight shakiness in her voice and his hand came down with a resounding smack against her ass before rubbing the sensitized flesh. “I want your ass rosy red and burning. I want you to remember this punishment and decide if it’s worth it.” She remained quiet though breathing heavily.
His hand landed again. “You will answer me when I speak to you.”
“Yes, sir.”
He administered several slaps in a row but she managed not to cry out again.
Walking to the side table, he removed the butt plug from the wrapper. He placed a generous amount of lube on it, then applied more to his fingers. He leaned in and placed a kiss on both of his teeth marks.
“I plan on taking your ass later and I want it prepared for me.”
Two slickened fingers pressed against the rosette of her ass and slipped past the tight muscles.
“Awwwe.”
“This is a large plug and may not be comfortable, but you will be ready when the time comes.” He stretched his fingers inside the tight opening for a minute before placing the tip of the plug against her ass.
“Relax, sweetling.” He messaged the area around her asshole before firmly pressing the plug in. When it was completely seated, he walked over to the wall and removed a paddle.
“I really enjoy my handprint on a sub’s ass, but Monroe has some of the best toys. This one seems to be rather rough and I’d like to see the burn it leaves behind. You are counting to ten, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
She managed to say “one,” but her slight shriek caused him to smile.
“Remember, you can use your safeword.”
“Yes, sir.” The paddle landed with another smack. “Two.”
He wondered if she would make it to ten.
She did and he began to wonder about Monroe setting her limits. He used a leather strap next and could see bruises forming. This was farther than he preferred to go but tonight was about learning her limits. He was beginning to see that hers were rather high. Through the years, Monroe accused Zach constantly of having few limits, and now Zach understood how hard it could be for a dom.
Her shoulders were shaking. He walked around and tipped her head up. Tears ran down her face but she opened her eyes. The look she gave begged for more.
“Have you ever used a safeword?”
She didn’t answer.
His lips met hers and kissed her with brutal insistence before pulling back. “You will answer or we will leave the dungeon and not return.”
“No, sir.”
“No, sir what?”
“No, sir, I have never used a safeword.”
“And why is that?”
No answer.
He pulled her hair and leveled her head back and away so she had to look at him.
“Why?”
She gasped and a small heart-wrenching sob escaped her lips, making his muscles clench.
“I must be punished.” The words were a soft whisper.
“For what?”
“For my sinful urges.”
Chapter Twenty-six
While Zach administered the paddle he began suspecting the truth. Monroe establishing her limits now made sense. She needed pain for an orgasm but would go past safe limits. Monroe understood how dangerous this could be in the wrong hands.
He smoothed her hair away from the damp skin of her forehead. This time, his kiss was gentle. He pulled away and trailed his fingers along her cheek and jaw. “We are finished.”
“No, sir, please.” Her eyes begged him to continue.
His devilish smile showed. “Only with punishments. Now, it’s about pleasure.”
Her sigh of relief caused him to chuckle.
“Is your ass ready for me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, because I’m ready to feel your tight muscles milking me for everything I’m worth.” He released her hair and walked behind her.
The redness on her cheeks had intensified. He smoothed his palm over the hot flesh before fingering her pussy and letting her juice slide down his hand. His jeans were too tight to keep on.
Once naked, he added a condom and went back to rubbing juices around her pussy lips, then against her clit. Without removing the plug from her ass, he placed his cock at the entrance to her pussy and slid inside.
The warmth and clenching of her muscles was almost more than his cock could handle. Sliding back and forth, he loved the feel of her wrapped tightly around him knowing she would be tighter still when he took her ass.
Her breathing increased. He settled his hands on her hips, pumping in and out, loving the wet, slapping sounds their bodies made and the noises she made as her release came closer. He stopped and pulled out, taking his hands completely off her body.
“No, please, sir!”
“You do not have permission to cum and your ass is so red, I would hate to cause you more discomfort when you sit at dinner with friends tomorrow night.”
“Please, sir!”
Begging was such a wonderful sound to a dom’s ears.
“I told you, darling, that I want your ass.”
The plug slipped out with a firm tug. The entrance remained tight when he placed his dick against her opening.
“Breathe for me, breathe in now.”
She inhaled.
“Let it out.”
Halfway through her exhale he pressed past the barrier and in one steady stroke went in until his balls rested against her pussy lips. He used his hand to massage them both, giving her a chance to adjust. His own breathing was ragged while he held back. Her shoulders finally relaxed and he couldn’t stand the painful fullness in his balls any longer.
His assault was hard and violent. She screamed over and over, crying out his name. Not “sir,” not “Monroe” but “Zach.”
The pulse of his cock rocked him when he finally spilled into her ass. At the same time, he pinched her clit violently.
“Cum, my sweet.” He felt her pussy contract and her asshole tightened in pulsing waves around his dick. He would never let her go.
Several minutes passed as he lay against her back and gained control of his breathing. He massaged her sides and shoulders. He hadn’t touched her breasts but would gladly save them for another round in the playroom another day.
When he was ab
le, he withdrew and walked a few feet away, disposing of the condom. He took moist towelettes back to the bench and cleaned between her legs and the crease of her red and swollen ass. He walked back to the sink area and wet down a soft cotton towel with cold water.
Standing behind her, he laid the cold cloth over her ass to relieve some of the stinging redness. He also pressed the cloth to her asshole, holding it there as she made small whimpers of discomfort and gratitude in equal parts.
He grabbed a blanket and covered her before releasing her restraints. Sitting her up, he could feel her body shaking. His arms surrounded her and he made his way to the couch in a darkened corner of the large room.
Her hair was a mess, her face red, but he couldn’t help but think she was even more beautiful this way. He stroked her arms and then her legs while readjusting her in his lap. A few minutes later, he retrieved juice from the refrigerator and turned the music off.
“Would you like a shower?”
“No, just hold me, sir, please.”
“Gladly.”
He gave her time to recover before a new round of questions.
“Tell me about your childhood.”
And, she did.
He loved the lilting sound of her accented voice while she told him stories of her mother and her father’s other wives. She had sisters and brothers, too. He let her talk until her own question startled him.
“Will you tell me about your family?”
It was impossible not to answer.
“You would like my parents. They always wanted a daughter but after me, their one and only son, they were never successful. I had a dream childhood but wondered, often, if they adopted me. If there was a violent sport, I wanted to play it: ice hockey, football, rugby. It didn’t matter how many bones I broke. My parents are the gentlest, sweetest people you could ever meet. They spent their younger years marching against war, fighting for gun control, and shaking their heads that all I wanted to do was fight.”
“Do you still wish to fight?”
“No. Monroe helped with my aggression. It’s funny because if it weren’t for him, I never would have survived as a police officer. A wild tendency in a Marine is a good thing but has no place in the life of a cop. Control is the key to police work. Shibari taught me patience, responsibility, and control.”
“Why does he kill?”
Zach was quiet for a moment, weighing his words.
“I wondered if you knew. I think he does it so no one else needs to. There are other killers, but if he does it, that’s one less person to feel the pain. He just doesn’t understand that someone else might not feel the pain he does, but that’s Monroe.”
He took a breath. “Tell me about your relationship with him.”
She snuggled further into his lap and began talking.
“My friend Ifrah hung herself from the bedroom door. I found her long after her body had grown cold. Our lives were not good. I can’t explain what it’s like to be dishonored in my culture. Women are killed by their families when this happens. In America, being half-caste made life easier for me. Ifrah covered her head and was treated with much disrespect. So was I, but my blue eyes seemed to help me fit in even when I also chose to cover my body.”
“After she died, I was so lonely and didn’t know what to do. I went to the store one day and when I returned, Monroe was sitting in my living room. I thought he was there to kill me.”
“Why would he kill you?”
“As an honor killing for my family. I tried to run back out the door but he stopped me and placed his hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming. He kept telling me he wouldn’t hurt me but I was too afraid. He tied and gagged me and then forced a bad tasting drink down my throat. When I woke up, I was in this house, though still tied.”
“If I killed him, I think we would both feel better.”
She frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion. He decided to let it drop — for now
“What happened next?”
“He talked.” She became silent.
“What did he talk about?”
“You.” Silence.
“Go on, please.”
The floodgates opened.
“He told me your story. I didn’t listen at first but as he continued, the sound of his voice, his gentleness began to sink in. He told of saving you, and then keeping track of you. He told me you applied to be an officer and the two of you met again. His words made sense but then I would wonder why he was telling me this story. He talked about your career and your advancements. I stopped thinking about the why and just listened. When he told me about you becoming a lieutenant, I started putting the pieces together and then he told me about spending a week with you after you rescued me.”
Zach remembered that week, too. He had been hurting and needed his friend like never before.
“I didn’t even know I was crying until he wiped my eyes and released my arms from their bindings,” she continued. “He handed me a picture of you. I will never forget what he said.”
Zach didn’t know if he wanted to hear this but let her continue.
“He said, ‘I found you for Zach. He needs you, and you need him.’”
So many thoughts swirled around Zach’s brain. But, the one he stopped on was if Monroe found her for Zach, why the hell was she Monroe’s slave?
“He loves you. I know he didn’t want to love me. But, I think our feelings for you became wrapped up in each other. We did not see it happening.”
“He saw it.” Zach’s jaw tightened. Monroe was too smart not to have been aware of what was happening. Damn him!
“Maybe so,” Angel said softly, stroking his chest. “But I do not think he could stop it.”
Zach swore under his breath.
“So what do we do now?” he asked.
She looked at him, her blue eyes swallowing him whole.
“I think that we wait for him to return,” she said, “and then ask him.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Zach had slept with women from time to time but seldom, if ever, found enjoyment in the actually sleeping. Angel was different. She snuggled in, digging her hands into his biceps, making herself an extension of his body. Waking up and looking at her long, braided hair made him think of the possibility of waking beside her each morning.
But then his mind wondered to Monroe, and all his uncertainties surfaced.
He gently pried her fingers away and offered a brief kiss when her sleepy eyes opened. He stood before she could entice him to stay and slapped her ass.
“Come on sleepyhead, I’d like to take a walk and stretch out my knee. We won’t leave the property so wear what you like.”
He went downstairs and grabbed a banana. He would make waffles when they returned. Zach loved Marguerite’s cooking but it would be nice to take advantage of the high tech kitchen and prepare a meal. He turned at the sound of light footsteps and stopped chewing.
Shorts. She was wearing short shorts and a tank top and…she was sexy as hell.
“You expect me to ever let you cover your body again?”
A deep blush and then uncertainty appeared on her face. She turned away before speaking. “Stephens is gone too and I thought you would like it.”
In three strides he was turning her so she could see his wolfish smile. “‘Like’ is not the best word.”
Lifting her up onto the counter, he grabbed another banana and broke off a small piece. He placed it between her lips and watched in fascination while she chewed, then swallowed.
Absently, he finished his own, not taking his eyes from her lips until she swallowed her last bite.
Even perched on the counter, she was still shorter than he was. He moved her knees apart, then stepped between her thighs, tipping his head down to taste her sweet banana-flavored mouth. Her pussy pressed against the front of his sweatpants and it was hard to resist splaying her on the counter and sinking into her hot mound. He pulled away but clamped his hands on her knees and spread her legs
wider.
Stepping back he was able to look between her thighs at the inviting flesh showing beneath the line of her shorts. Marks, bruising from his teeth, hardened his cock further. Mine. The thought traveled through his body and lodged in his brain.
He rubbed over the slightly raised skin with his thumbs.
Her head went back and her long neck tempted him to take a few more bites. “We, my tempting sub, are going for a walk. If you choose to play tonight at the club, I’ll oblige. If not, we’ll wait for tomorrow and make up for lost time.”
Refusing to give into her sigh of frustration, he swung her down and took her hand. Once they were outside, she tried to let go but he added just enough pressure for her to know it wasn’t happening.
Her mischievous grin came into play. “Your knee is better?”
“It feels good this morning and Stephens says I can start a slow jog next week if it keeps improving. Do you run?”
“Only from mean doms.”
He loved the sound of her laugh.
“Really? We’ll see how far you get next week before I catch you. I want you wearing the same shorts and shirt for added incentive, not that I need much to catch naughty subs.”
Her grin widened wickedly. “Yes, sir.”
Then her expression changed and he knew she wanted to ask him something.
“Say it.”
Her smile became hesitant. “Do you miss working for the police department?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Could you go back?”
“They wanted to give me a desk job but it’s not my style. I need to be in the action and not continually worrying about what’s happening in the trenches.” His look became possessive. “I have control issues.”
“I love your control issues,” she laughed.
“I’m glad to hear it. Do you miss your husband?”
Just a touch of sadness passed over her face.
“Sometimes, but mostly I miss the sense of family.”
“Do you think you’ll ever feel it with Monroe?”
“I don’t know. He shows little emotion, but somehow I can always tell when he’s displeased.”
“Yeh, I know what you mean. I don’t think anyone wants to displease him.”
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