“Tell me about your last lover.”
He was a bastard for asking the question while she was at his mercy like this. He wasn’t even sure why he’d asked it, when the thought of another man claiming the woman he still saw as exclusively his was anathema to him.
“Mikhail. His name… was Mikhail.”
Guy raised an eyebrow. A Russian? She’d got involved with someone on her mission, then. “You met him in Moscow?”
“He saved my life.”
Guy’s blood ran cold. Was this Mikhail in some way connected with the beating that had put those scars on her back? By what she’d just said, not as the one who administered the strokes, but the one who saved her from facing more of them? He wanted to know, but he had to keep his mind on what he was doing. “Close your eyes.”
To emphasise his point, he pinched her clit. Her folds glistened. He stroked her a few times, until he was satisfied with her increasing arousal, and then he slipped his fingers inside her again. Her core tightened.
“You remember how we used to play, Madeleine?”
“I do, Sire.”
He did, too. “Do you still need what I gave you back then?”
“More than ever.”
“What about Mikhail? Did he give you what you need? Is he connected with the scars on your back?” Tension stilled his hand and gave his tone a harder edge than it might otherwise have had. Though he’d marked many a consenting masochistic sub in his years as a practising sadist, he’d never once left them with any permanent disfigurement.
“He wasn’t a Dom, Sire—and without him, the scars would have been much worse. Without him… I might not have survived.”
Guy closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath. He tried not to let his imagination fill his mind with the kind of horrors that might underpin such a statement. The only way to prevent it would be to hear the whole, unvarnished truth, and while she was at his mercy, Maddie might be more amenable to revealing it. “Tell me what happened.”
She turned an incendiary glare on him. “You’re asking me this now?”
“No—I’m ordering you to tell me.” And she’d know he meant it.
A frustrated groan joined the glare. “I’d been there for over two years when my cover was blown. They snatched me off the street and took me to a warehouse. They wanted the names of my contacts, but I wouldn’t tell them. It took Mikhail three days to find me, after I hadn’t checked in with him—”
“Why would you check in with him?”
“He knew I worked for British Intelligence and made it his business to get to know me almost as soon as I arrived. We were working towards the same goal, he said, so it made sense to collaborate.”
“Wait—the same goal? Who is he?” Guy’s inner alarm bells were ringing loud enough to be heard clear across the county.
“Back then, he was assigned to a task force investigating the Bratva.”
“And now?”
“He heads up the federal investigation agency.”
“You mean Mikhail Petrov?” In his previous line of work, Guy had made it his business to keep abreast of developments in the field of international security. That included appointments at the most senior level.
“You know him?”
“By reputation only.”
And that reputation was formidable. When Petrov had initially taken control, his first action had been a purge of every allegedly corrupt officer in the agency. Everything he’d done since pointed to him being a good man.
Partially reassured, partially jealous as hell, Guy weighed up the situation in the light of this new information. There was undoubtedly more to the story, but for now, that was enough.
He finger-fucked her again, taking it easy at first, but soon her pleasure turned to discomfort as he stimulated her clit beyond endurance.
“Please, Sire.”
Her breathless entreaty turned his cock to granite. Guy stripped off his shirt, and when he turned back to his delicious sub, he caught her looking at him with unashamed hunger in her gaze. Maybe all wasn’t lost, after all.
“That’s how you looked the first time I saw you at that club we went to. As soon as I saw you, I knew you were the next Dom I wanted.”
“Next?” She made it sound as if she’d been working her way through all the available Doms in the club. In truth, she’d been highly selective when it came to her play partners. He’d checked.
“And last. I waited to see if you were with anyone special—”
“I wasn’t—until you.” And that was the truth.
In silence, Guy released her bonds and laid a firm hand on her shoulder when she would have sat up. “No. I want you to turn over now. Face down on the table.”
Her look of alarm nearly ripped him apart. She followed it up with an awkward nod and obeyed. With the innate elegance he’d always loved, she draped herself over the foam wedge he’d taken from under the table. With the wedge in place, her bottom was in the perfect position for what he had planned next.
The scars on her back, up close like this, turned him cold with a rage to get even with the scum who’d done it to her. If he ever met the bastard, Guy would take great pleasure in ripping his balls off and forcing them down his throat, and that was just to start with. However, that rage had no place here, so he locked it away and focused on securing her to the table once more.
He crossed the room to one of the two antique Chinese lacquer cabinets. This one held an impressive collection of impact toys. The rattan cane was his first choice. He held the ends and flexed the implement before slapping it against the side of his leg. If her tastes hadn’t changed too much over the years, she’d like that one. To the cane, he added a flogger, a strap and a three-tailed tawse, which he deposited on the table by the freestanding St. Andrew’s Cross in the alcove.
The second cabinet held smaller toys. From one of the drawers he selected a metal butt plug with a heart-shaped crystal set in the base. His hand hovered over the plain lube, but instead he selected the one to which he’d added fresh ginger juice. Her introduction to figging had been quite a memorable occasion, and was well worth repeating.
Over the last few days, Guy had spent a great deal of time considering how he was going to handle the evening. He could have gone relatively easy on her and prolonged their session, but the truth was, he wanted to draw this line under the past as expeditiously as possible. That meant going short but intense. He pocketed the most vicious set of nipple clamps in his collection, along with a blindfold and a pair of surgical gloves, and returned to Maddie.
“Last chance. Are you ready for this?”
“Yes, Sire. I need this. I’m ready.”
Her voice faltered only slightly as she delivered the response he expected, no doubt with a good deal of trepidation about what he’d do to her. Careful to betray nothing through his expression, he stroked her hair, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “Are you? I wonder.”
Remaining in her line of sight, he removed the surgical gloves from his pocket and put them on, taking slow, deliberate care to ensure a good fit. Her imagination would go crazy, trying to figure out what he was going to do that required a barrier of latex.
“I thought we’d use this session to revisit your anal training.” Guy produced the butt plug and ripped open the bag. “You remember when I fucked you there with something else? The raw ginger root?”
Chains rattled as Maddie flinched.
“Good, you do remember. I took the liberty of adding ginger juice to this bottle of lube.” He squirted some of the gel onto the plug and spread it over the shining metal. “This’ll go better if you try to relax and don’t resist.”
Guy moved into position. With one hand he held the cheeks of her bottom apart, taking a moment to appreciate the tight whorl of her anus, and the nervous twitch that betrayed her apprehension. He placed the tip of the plug to the tempting pucker. “Do as I said and try to relax, pet.”
He started off by twisting the plug back and forth, applyi
ng just a little extra effort to ease it into the reluctant opening. Maddie’s muted whimpers were an excellent indicator for how much pressure he should use. As those whimpers turned from discomfort to pleasure, he pushed the toy into her. Once he’d seated it as deeply as possible, only the heart-shaped crystal remained exposed.
A new groan fuelled his sadism. The plug he’d chosen was perhaps on the small side—while he wanted to satisfy her masochistic needs, he wasn’t about to cause her any permanent harm. Temporary pain was the name of this game, and thank God she still craved receiving it as much as he needed to inflict it.
Her buttocks clenched. Her body was instinctively trying to expel the foreign object, but he wouldn’t let that happen. Guy pressed his fingers over the jewelled end of the plug and held it in place. With his free hand, he delivered a resounding slap to her bottom, using enough strength to leave a vivid red imprint.
“You haven’t changed, Madeleine,” he said, his voice low, stern, implacable. “You were right about needing what I can give you. How does that feel?”
“Full.” Her head turned away from him. “And it’s warm… stings.”
The gel would reduce the initial effect, but Guy had added plenty of the juice, enough for her to feel more than a sting with enough exposure. He stroked her inner thigh, up and down, up and down, in an almost hypnotic rhythm, before landing another sharp slap on her backside. She cried out and clenched around the plug, cried out again as the irritation from the ginger intensified.
“When was the last time you were fucked here?”
“The last time I was with you.”
A silent, feral roar surged through him. He’d been her first. With her consent, he’d trained her to accept and then welcome his cock in that forbidden place. Knowing no other lover had taken her there in all this time ignited a fierce, all-consuming blaze of possessiveness in him.
In all this time. The words were a sharp reminder of why they were there, of the time they’d wasted and the years they’d lost through duty, arrogance and ego. So much regret. He’d held it at bay for years, his grief an invisible, invincible shield protecting him from the condemnation snapping at his heels.
And in all this time, she’d been alive, yet made no effort to contact him. Even though he understood why, in that moment, he wanted to rip the universe apart at the injustice of it.
“How does it feel?” He wanted to know, to have her describe the sensations to him in detail.
“It’s hot… stings more now…”
“You want it out, don’t you? You want to clench and push it out, but that makes it burn more, right?”
“Yes, Sire.” She moaned, and every muscle in her body tensed. The end of the plug twitched. Guy pulled it part way out, stretching her a little more, and applied more of the gingered lube before pushing the plug deep inside her.
“You know how to make it burn less, don’t you? Relax and open up.”
Not wanting anything to come between his hand and her flesh, he removed the gloves with a snap. With a smooth, circular motion, he massaged one cheek and then the other, interspersing the action with running a finger between her folds, torturing her with the promise of pleasure.
“You’ll take me here again soon.” Guy manipulated the plug to reinforce his point. “Do you remember our role play?”
Though they’d acted out many scenarios in their time together, there was one in particular that stood out. Maddie would know which one he meant—after all, it had been one of her fantasies, playing the captive to his kidnapper. They’d spent the weekend in a remote cottage. As soon as they entered the building, he’d ordered her to strip and had kept her naked until the morning they returned to London. As her captor, he’d taken her when and how he pleased. She’d played the role of victim to perfection, until the game ended on the Sunday evening, with their favourite ritual to mark the transition from fantasy back to reality.
Bathing together was an exquisitely intimate experience for both of them. That particular occasion had turned into something special. Guy could still feel the warmth of the scented water as he held her in his arms, cradled to his chest. He could still hear her contented sighs, her thanks for fulfilling a fantasy she’d been too ashamed to reveal to any previous Dominants with whom she’d played. He’d taught her never to be ashamed to ask for what she wanted.
“How does it feel now, pet?”
Her groan was heartfelt. “It’s burning, Sire. Everywhere.”
Just the way he’d intended. He gave the plug a final twist, eased it out, and set it to one side, being careful not to make contact with the lube. They were done with the fire—now for the ice. He patted her bottom. “I know. I think it’s time to make it better now.”
From the small refrigerator, he retrieved the nicely chilled lube and glass plug. On the way back to the table, he cast a glance at the St. Andrew’s Cross, where the last act of this closure of the past would soon take place. When he bound her to it, Maddie would be screaming with the force of the orgasms he planned to give her.
Unless she’d changed beyond recognition from the woman he’d once known
“This will help the burn, pet.” He slicked up the plug and slipped it between the cheeks of her bottom. She tensed immediately, hands clenching into tight fists. It might be a shock to the system, but the coolness would help to dilute the effect of the ginger. The powerful contrast to the spicy heat would also provide an added thrill.
He gave her bottom a sound slap, then rubbed it to take away the sting and distract her as he removed the plug. “I think that’s enough, pet. I’ve gone easy on you so far—it’s time to finish this.”
Guy released her bonds and helped her to sit on the edge of the table, facing him. Her eyes were lowered, her gaze fixed on her hands clasped in her lap. He framed her face with his hands and tilted her head up for a deep kiss.
“When this is done, we can close the door on the past.”
“A fresh start?”
The hope in Maddie’s voice allowed him to release his fear that she’d want to walk away when their scene was over. “If that’s what you want.”
“It is, Sire.” Her gaze connected with his. “With all my heart.”
Her quiet words blew him away. This was one job he had to get right, for both their sakes. He parted her thighs and stepped into the space between them. She was gripping the edge of the table, her arms braced as if they were they only thing holding her upright.
Guy kissed her forehead. She’d once told him she felt safe and treasured when he did that. He traced her jawline with his fingertips, then allowed them to trail down her throat to her chest. He took the weight of her breast in his palm, and wondered again how he hadn’t recognised her when they’d made love.
“The first time we were together—I should have known it was you.”
A slow shake of her head told him she disagreed. “Why? Everyone changes in a decade—some for the worse, like me, and some for the better, like you.”
Guy folded his arms. “Flattery will get you nowhere, pet, and to teach you that, I think I’ll start with your nipples.”
Without any hint of gentleness, he pulled and twisted each tender, fleshy bud, before applying the vicious clamps. Her eyes glistened as she bit her lower lip.
“I’ve told you not to do that, haven’t I?” He stroked her lip with his thumb, soothing the abused skin.
“I’m sorry, Sire. It hurts.”
He didn’t pretend not to know what she meant. She was talking about the clamps. “Then I need to do something to take your mind off it.”
He swept Maddie up in his arms so fast, she lunged to loop her arms around his neck. Her breasts collided with his chest, and he heard her breathless gasp as the sudden contact ignited a new torment for her clamped nipples. He looked into her eyes, and his heart missed a beat, as if he were seeing that unique shade of jade-green for the first time.
“If I’d done this the first night we spent together, I’d have known.”
/> Maddie didn’t pretend to misunderstand him. “That’s what I was afraid of. I was so scared you’d work it out.”
“And yet you were the one who gave the game away. Why, when you were so frightened of the consequences?”
“I couldn’t carry on pretending to be a stranger. I think my subconscious wanted to bring matters to a head and let the chips fall where they may.”
He glanced down at her adorned nipples. “Any regrets?”
Her lashes lowered in a gesture of respect. “No, Sire. Although when you remove the clamps…” She managed a rueful smile.
Guy was unrepentant. If he’d enjoyed putting them on, taking them off was going to be a delight for him and a bitch for her. “Ready?”
She nodded her consent.
He carried her to the St. Andrew’s Cross. Seven steps took him there, and with each one, the passionate lover retreated, displaced by the sadist with the stone-cold heart who needed to inflict pain. He set her down facing the cross, and buckled the attached cuffs around her wrists and ankles.
“You come only when I allow it and not before.”
She shuddered. Orgasm denial had never been a favourite of hers, which was why he’d liked to use it on her, just to warm her up. The sessions they’d had… She’d been sweet, sobbing perfection, and loved the impact play—harsh though it had been—as much as he did.
From his pocket, he took out the blindfold, then thought better of it and tossed it to one side. He’d been denied those incredible jade eyes for too long to hide them now. Not only that—he wanted to know exactly what he was doing to her and how far along the road to redemption they’d travelled at any given point.
He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, so the heel lay at the top of her spine. Immediately her breathing slowed. “I’m not going to touch your back,” he vowed, his voice rough with emotion. “That doesn’t mean I’ll show any leniency when it comes to your arse and thighs.”
“I didn’t think it would, Sire. I wouldn’t want you to.”
He stroked a path from her nape to the base of her spine, and with each scar he counted, he condemned the perpetrator to hell a thousand times over.
No Going Back (Club Aegis Book 6) Page 15
