Famous

by Marie Force

  “Something funny?”

  I didn’t mean to laugh out loud. “No, ma’am.” I step up onto the platform where the St. Andrew’s Cross is located. “Front or back, ma’am?”

  “Let me have your back first.”

  I assume the position with my hands grasping the leather straps. I hear rustling behind me, but other than that, nothing happens for quite some time—long enough that I begin to sweat from the heat in the dungeon. My dick leaks from being so fucking hard it aches.

  When she joins me, her naked body brushes against mine, drawing a gasp of pleasure from my tightly clasped lips. She affixes Velcro straps to my wrists and ankles, making it so I can’t move and leaving me completely at her mercy.

  I’m not afraid of her in any way, but I’m afraid I won’t actually be able to take it like a man. I’ve seen Marlowe reduce her subs to sniveling shells of their former selves. She wouldn’t do that to me, would she?

  “Tell me something.” She runs her fingertip straight down my back, into the crease between my cheeks until she’s pressing against my back entrance. “Has anyone ever plugged you?”

  “No, ma’am.” I don’t want that, but I can’t very well say so unless I want to put a stop to everything.

  “Hmm, interesting. Let’s do that.”

  Fuck. How can my dick get any harder than it already is? It’s going to explode.

  She leaves me and returns with lube that she applies to my ass with two very insistent fingers.

  I’ve done some ass stuff here and there, but receiving has never been my thing. Giving is where it’s at. When her fingers fully breach me, my natural inclination is to try to get away, but there’s nowhere to go with the shackles firmly in place. I grit my teeth, close my eyes and focus on breathing through the discomfort. And is it possible that she’s intentionally trying to make it hurt? I wouldn’t put it past her after what she endured because of me.

  She withdraws her fingers before sending them into me again. This time, the fit is even tighter, which leads me to believe she’s added a third finger. Fuck, that hurts. She goes at me hard, stroking in and out in swift movements that I’ve got no choice but to take. When she reaches around me with her free hand to stroke my cock, I explode, coming so hard, I nearly black out from the painful pleasure that rips through me like a tidal wave.

  “What a naughty, naughty sub you are.”

  She sounds delighted, which irks me.

  So she bested me this time. Now that she’s taken the edge off, I won’t be so easy to break. I feel an intense pressure against my anus. Holy fuck, she’s using the biggest of the plugs. A cold sweat overtakes me. What if I can’t do it? I try to remember the things I tell my subs when they insist they can’t take me in their asses. Breathe. Push back. Try to relax. As if that’s possible when your body is being stretched and invaded. I have a whole new appreciation for what my subs endured when they tried to take my cock this way.

  Only two ever succeeded.

  Payback is a bitch, I think as she pushes the plug relentlessly into me until my body yields to allow it in. By the time the plug is fully inserted, I’m as hard as I was before I came. The plug sits snug against my prostate, so snug that the slightest movement is going to set me off again. When the plug begins to vibrate, I shout from the sensations that have my entire body seizing from the orgasm that hits me like a tsunami this time. It comes from nowhere and leaves me gasping in the aftermath.

  “You suck at being a sub.”

  I’m too spent to fire back, not that I can anyway. I’m not supposed to talk. I’m supposed to just stay still and take whatever she’s dishing out.

  “You’ve earned two punishments.”

  I can tell by the tone of her voice that she’s thoroughly enjoying this. And when the first lash of the flogger hits my ass, my dick gets hard all over again.

  My groan lets her know how totally she’s winning this game of ours.

  Chapter 22

  I’ve got him right where I want him as I lash his ass until it’s fiery red. I want him to feel it every time he sits down for the next few days. I want him to remember this and me and what he’s going to learn while he’s at my mercy.

  “When did you know you were in love with me?” I ask him between lashes.

  He’s breathing harder, but otherwise has had no noticeable reaction to the flogging. I’m watching him closely, as I always do during scenes. I take my job as a Domme very seriously. My subs may get very, very uncomfortable, but they never get hurt. “What’re you talking about?” His voice is tense and strained.

  I give the plug a gentle tug and then push it back into place.

  His body goes rigid in reaction.

  This is fun—for me. Not so much for him, I think. Oh well. Too bad he didn’t tell me the truth the other day. None of this would’ve happened. “Answer the question. When did you know?”

  “I’m not in love with you.”

  I laugh—hard. “Liar.”

  “You’re going to tell me how I feel now?”

  “Want to know when I knew for sure that you love me?”

  “Knock yourself out.”

  “When my kidnapper… what’s his name anyway? I never heard.”

  “Turk,” he says, snarling over the name.

  “When Turk told me what he wanted with me. Two things became very clear to me right then and there—that you ran because he asked you for something from me and that you ran because you love me.”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “Yes, you do. What I want to know is how long have you loved me?”

  He’s stubbornly silent.

  I pull on the plug, withdrawing it until the widest part stretches him obscenely. “How long?”

  He sags into the restraints, his shoulders slumping. “I’ve always known. Long time.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because.”

  I lash him harder than I have yet.

  He cries out. “I didn’t think I was right for you.”

  “And I got no say in that?”

  “I didn’t get past me not being right for you. Look at me. I’m scarred from the fights I was in as a kid, covered in stupid tattoos that I got before I knew they should mean something, and you just got kidnapped and threatened because of me. And you wonder why I think I’m not good enough for you?”

  I lash him another dozen times, until he’s panting and sweating. But then I stop myself, because one of the cardinal rules of our lifestyle is to never act from a place of anger. I’m furious that he thinks so little of himself.

  “You know what bothers me more than anything?”

  “What?” he asks in a low growl.

  “You’re a Dom. What’s the most important element in a Dom/sub relationship?”

  “Communication.”

  “Bingo. And what did you do when Turk called you and asked you for something?”

  “He didn’t ask me for something. He wanted it from you.”

  “And that was unacceptable to you?”

  “Fuck yes, it was! I don’t want that scumbag anywhere near you.”

  “How’d that work out for you?”

  The sound that comes from him is nearly inhuman. “I fucked up, all right? Is that what you want me to say?”

  “It’s a good start.” I rub the redness on his ass.

  He moans.

  “What’re you going to do if something like that happens again?” I slip a cock ring around his balls and smile when his backbone goes completely straight in reaction to the tight rubber around his most sensitive parts.

  “It’s not going to happen again.”

  “Sure, it will. Your woman is a big star.”

  “You’re not my woman.”

  “Oh yes, I am, and you’ll be glad to know I’ve decided to give you another chance.”

  He grunts out a laugh. “What makes you think I want another chance?”

  I place a soft, tender kiss square in the middle of his back. “Because
you love me enough to leave me to keep me safe.” I lean my forehead against him and wrap my arms around his midsection. This moment is about love, not sex or domination, and I fully luxuriate in the awareness that I’ve found him, the one I’ve hoped to find, the one who completes me and makes me whole.

  That he’s been right under my nose all along makes it even better than it would be with someone new. I know this man. I know his heart, and I’m starting to understand what drives him. He cares so much about the people he loves that he’d sacrifice himself if it meant saving them.

  I kiss him on either side of his spine. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

  “Too bad.”

  “If you feel such a burning need to protect me, could that be because you love me?”

  “Stop it. We had fun. That’s all it was.”

  “Bullshit.” I wrap my hand around his cock and squeeze hard.

  He hisses out a deep breath.

  “Stop lying to me and yourself.”

  “I’m not lying. I don’t want this.”

  The words hit me like a fist to the gut. I was so sure I had him figured out. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think so. When we were together, before Turk called and ruined everything, nothing had ever felt more perfect or more right. I know he felt the same way, and that’s why I’m pushing him so hard.

  If I can’t bring him around in here, I fear he’ll run away from me and never come back. That can’t happen. Now that I’ve had a taste of perfect, I want to gorge on it—and him. I reach up to remove the restraints on his wrists. Then I free his ankles. I take his hand and lead him to the chaise in the corner that I requested when we built the dungeon.

  “Sit.”

  He sits gingerly due to the plug and the ring.

  I straddle his lap, forcing him to look at me. “Have you ever felt anything better than what’s between us?”

  “Sure I have.” He feigns a casual tone, but I see the truth in his black eyes. “Lots of times.”

  I rock back and forth over his cock. “I never took you for such a liar.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “Yes, you are.” I align his cock with my pussy and face the usual battle to allow him in. I go for maximum impact as I slowly but surely sink down until he’s in as far as he can go. With my hands on his shoulders, I study the planes and angles of his arresting face. He’s beautiful in a fierce, sexy sort of way. “You work so hard to be strong for everyone else. Who’s strong for you?”

  His hands curl around my hips, and his fingertips press into my flesh. “I don’t need anyone to be strong for me.”

  “So much bullshit, Sebastian. I never knew you were such a coward.” Oh, he doesn’t like that! I’m delighted by the foul look he gives me. If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t get pissed. I tilt my hips and begin to ride him slowly, loving the way his eyes roll back in his head.

  Gotcha.

  I turn on the vibration in the plug, and he goes crazy, hammering into me until I’m sure I’ll never walk straight again.

  That’s fine with me.

  Everything is fine as long as I have him—and he has me.

  They told me I needed to stay here and chill until the cops brought Leah and Marlowe to us. Actually, the words Flynn used were “chill the fuck out.” I’d like to see how he’d handle it if Natalie had been the one taken. I pace from one end of the lobby to the other more times than I can count. I’ve never noticed that it takes roughly one hundred steps to walk across the lobby, probably because I’ve never had any reason to count them before now.

  At least I don’t feel like I’m having a heart attack anymore.

  She’s safe. She’s on her way back to me. Everything is all right. Except it won’t really be all right until she’s back in my arms where she belongs. It’s ridiculous how essential she’s become to me. A few months ago, I was describing her as a pesky fly buzzing around my head, making me crazy with her silly legal questions, perky tits, hot-as-fuck ass and endlessly witty commentary. I wanted to strangle her almost as much as I wanted to fuck her.

  Now…

  Well, now I can’t seem to breathe properly when she’s not around, and I can barely function when she’s in any kind of danger.

  I’m kind of pissed, actually. My life was perfectly fine until she upended everything. How dare she do this to me? Does she have any idea what she’s put me through over the last thirty hours without her?

  The elevator dings before it opens, and then there she is. I’m so happy to see her sweet face that I don’t even care that she’s ruined my life.

  I rush toward her and lift her right off her feet.

  She wraps her arms around me and sobs into my neck.

  I carry her straight to my office, ignoring the cops who’re saying they need to talk to her. They can fuck right off. I kick the office door closed behind me and drop to the sofa, cuddling her into my chest. “Shhh, it’s okay. Everything is okay now.” I say that to her as much as to myself. We both need the reassurances.

  “I thought I’d never see you again.”

  “I’m so sorry you were scared.” I tip her chin up so I can kiss her.

  She clings to me, her mouth opening to my tongue, and before I know what’s what, I’m stretched out on top of her, our legs are intertwined, and I’m so hard for her, I’m afraid I might burst from the need that pulses through me like a separate heartbeat that belongs only to her.

  Only when I have to breathe do I break the kiss and drop my head to her chest. “You can’t ever do this to me again.”

  She sinks her fingers into my hair. “It’s not like I set out to make you nuts.”

  “Well, you did.”

  “You were nuts?”

  I raise my head so I can look down at her. “I was out of my mind. You’ve burrowed your way so deep inside me that I can’t live without you.”

  “Does that mean we’re in a relationship?” Her saucy smile is much more “her” than the heartbroken tears could ever be.

  “Shut up.”

  “Make me.”

  “Happy to.” I kiss her until I’m about to come in my pants. I reach down to free myself, and after pushing her clothes aside, I slip inside her. It’s like coming home, every damned time. How and why it’s so different with her, I’ll never know. It just is, the same way her eyes are blue and her little tits are incredibly sensitive and her pussy is so tight, it makes me want to howl from the pleasure.

  I can’t do that here. But when I get her home… There might be howling. “I love you so much, my sexy little pit bull. So fucking much, it made me crazy to know you were in danger. This is the second time you’ve done this to me. You gotta stop scaring me. If anything ever happened to you…” I’m horrified when my voice catches and my eyes fill.

  Leah frames my face in her hands and brings me in for a sweet, tender kiss that nearly unmans me. “I’m fine. I’m right here with you, exactly where I’ve wanted to be since the day I started at Quantum and you and your big brain nearly made me come in the conference room.”

  Even when I think it’s not possible to laugh, she proves otherwise.

  “And I love you, too. So much.” She caresses my face with a tender touch. “All I could think about the whole time we were gone was if you were okay.”

  “I wasn’t. I wasn’t okay at all.” I hold her and kiss her and make love to her. “I need you to marry me, Leah. Marry me and be with me and just be mine.”

  “Are you really proposing to me while we’re having sex?”

  “I guess maybe I am. Why? Did you need some fancy romantic proposal?”

  She shakes her head. “This is just fine.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes, Emmett, I’ll marry you.”

  I love the blissed-out smile on her sweet face. “I hope you’re happy that your evil plan to fully infiltrate my life has been so successful.”

  “I’m very happy.”

  I hold her as close to me as I can get her. “That’s the only t
hing that matters.”

  Chapter 23

  Is it possible to die from too much sex or to become dehydrated from coming so many times, you lose count of how many orgasms there’ve been? If so, I’m knocking on death’s door as Marlowe completely and thoroughly uses me. I honestly can’t believe we’re still here. It has to be hours after this started. The club is due to open shortly, but the main door is locked. What will the employees do when they report to work?

  There’s nothing they can do. I have the only key to that door, and it’s on the floor of the dungeon in the pocket of my jeans.

  I want to ask her how long we’re going to do this, but I suspect I already know the answer to that question. My chest aches from the pressure building in the area of my heart. I can’t give her what she wants, as much as I might wish otherwise.

  She once again turns on the vibration in the plug, and like every other time she’s done that, I come like an inexperienced teenager in the throes of first lust.

  “Jesus, Marlowe. What the fuck do you want from me?”

  “Everything.”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “So what? We’re going to do this until I give you the answer you want?”

  “We’re going to do this until you give me the truth.”

  “Aren’t you getting sore?”

  “Funny you should ask. I was just thinking I should switch locations.”

  “What…” Before I can gauge her intent, she’s moved my cock so it’s pressed against her ass. “Marlowe, don’t. You need to be prepared for that.”

  “You’re not in charge here, remember?”

  She strokes lube onto my cock, which is hard—again. How is that even possible?

  “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

  “What do you care?”

  “I care.” I care too much, and that’s the problem. I never again want to feel as helpless as I did knowing she was in danger because of me, and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do about it. As good as the good times with her were—and they were better than it’s ever been with anyone—I can’t risk something happening again or that she’ll wise up in a year or two and realize she can do way better than me.