Caught Up In You: Edgeplay: The complete serial

by McCormick, Jenna

  “I’ll never drink again,” I vow. “It only fucks everything up.”

  “Baily,” his tone is so raw, so full of pain. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t.” After spending the afternoon with a real rapist, I know for a fact that Connor isn’t one. “It was a misunderstanding that went too far. You stopped. That tells me everything I need to know.”

  “You shouldn’t trust me.”

  “Not trusting you got me into this mess to begin with. I love you, Connor, so much it scares me.”

  His jaw clenches and our journey progresses in silence.

  35

  “I know you’re avoiding me,” I say from the entrance to the secret passageway in Connor’s office. He’s standing before the fire, staring into the flames as though lost.

  “You need to rest and recover from what happened.” His tone is absent, as if reciting a memorized speech.

  “It’s been a week.” A lonely week of recovering in my cottage. I can’t seem to go into my bedroom without triggering a panic attack. Connor left security outside my cottage round the clock, making it impossible for me to show up here and have this showdown. “What I need is you.”

  I move forward, try to wrap my arms around him, but his hands clamp onto my wrists. The rejection stings. “Connor?”

  “I remember,” he says sullenly. “Everything.”

  I tug my arms free and he allows it. “What?”

  “My memories are all unlocked. The one thing I wanted more than anything.”

  My heart rate speeds up. “Since when?”

  His gaze meets mine, conflicting emotions battling in blue fire. “Since your abduction.”

  “Will you tell me about it?” Since he won’t let me be where I want to—on his lap—I lower myself onto the chaise.

  I hold my breath, afraid he’s going to say no. His knuckles are white where he grips the stone mantel. “What do you want to know?”

  “Who took you?”

  “My family.”

  That can’t be right. “I don’t understand. Why would they do such a thing?”

  “Money, of course. My grandfather cut my mother off when she married my father. He’d had some minor successes over the years, but he was a gambler and the money ran out. My grandfather had taken out hefty insurance policies on me, since I was his heir. So my parents arranged the kidnapping from here, while visiting friends.”

  It’s a good thing I’m already sitting. “Oh, Connor.”

  “It’s strange, I haven’t made contact with them for years. Even though I couldn’t remember, I still had this…aversion to seeing them.”

  Betrayed by the very people who were supposed to shelter and protect him. It takes everything in me not to go to him, but I don’t want him to mistake my offering of comfort for pity. “So with your memories unlocked, does that mean Dom Connor is gone for good?”

  He shakes his head. “I’m not sure. I haven’t experienced any missing time over the past few days. Disappointed?” His tone is mocking.

  I stand up. “Don’t try to drive me away. It won’t work.”

  “I’m selling the Rosemont.”

  I blink. “Excuse me?”

  “I bought the estate to unlock my memories. Now that I have them, there’s no need to remain here.”

  “What you mean is you don’t want to remember what happened here. With my grandfather taking you and giving you to the ones who hurt you.”

  A muscle jumps in his jaw. “And is that so wrong?”

  “Of course it isn’t. I don’t blame you a bit, so long as you take me with you.”

  He turns away. “That isn’t a good idea.”

  “You don’t want me anymore?” I shouldn’t be surprised. It still defies belief that he wanted me in the first place.

  He doesn’t answer.

  I lift my chin. “Tell me the truth, Connor. Was I part of some revenge scheme to get back at Pops? Seduce the country bumpkin, build up her hopes, and then dash them when she falls in love with the billionaire playboy? Because if that’s all we were, tell me now.”

  “You know better than that.” He stares out the window.

  “Is it because of Pops then? Am I a reminder of him and what he did to you?” If that’s the case I can accept it, for his sake. “You said you forgave him but maybe it was a little premature. Maybe you can’t get over that. How could you ever get over that?”

  He turns and grips my arms. “You want a reason? Because I know now what it’s like to love someone to the point of madness. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Baily Sinclair. I don’t care if you’re the spawn of Satan himself because now you’re mine.”

  His lips sear mine in a hungry kiss. Our tongues tangle and I groan, lost in the sensual taste of him. The wicked pleasure his mouth never fails to deliver. It’s been too long and I’ve missed him so much. He could devour me and I wouldn’t lift a finger to stop him.

  He breaks away too soon and stalks back to the fireplace. “And I can’t have you.”

  “Why not?” Still gasping, I lean against the windowsill. “What’s stopping you? I’m right here, I’m willing and I don’t see the problem.”

  “The problem is I wanted to rape you.”

  I thought we straightened this out already. True, I was suffering from blunt force trauma to the head, but I could have sworn we talked about this. “You didn’t though.”

  “But I wanted to. I still want to.” His expression is anguish personified.

  My lips part but I don’t know what to say. Whatever I go with had better be planned though, because I sense Connor is at the breaking point. I move back to the chaise and sit on its edge. “Talk to me. Tell me what you need.”

  He stares at me as though I’ve turned green. “You should be running away. Especially after your abduction.”

  “Ian Fletcher’s craziness has nothing to do with us.” Though the thought of being tied up helplessly again makes my stomach heave, I don’t dwell on it. “What is it that you want, Connor? I know I screwed everything up by leaving the way I did. It upset you.”

  “I was devastated.” His tone is sincere, the confession heartfelt.

  “What do I need to do to show you I’m here for good? That I won’t leave you again?”

  Apprehension and what looks like hope flicker over his face as he kneels down in front of me. “You don’t know what you’re offering. And I refuse to break you.”

  I can barely swallow around the lump in my throat. “You won’t. I have faith in you. Now you need to trust me. Trust in us.”

  I can see the instant the decision is made. His eyes remain steady on mine and he says, “I need to be in complete control. To do anything I want to you.”

  “I don’t understand how that’s any different than what we’ve already done?”

  “No safe-word. No stopping until it’s over.”

  I swallow hard. He means business. Without a safe-word I’d be completely at his mercy. A flash of me tied helplessly to the bed with Ian Fletcher standing over me pushes to the front of my brain but I shove it away. “Can you tell me why this is important to you?”

  I expect him to move away, to hide his face in some way, but that’s not my Connor. He looks me straight in the eye as he bares his soul. “They forced me to be their sex slave. The men who took me. They used me hard, would starve or beat me if I refused. I’m not sure when my mind fragmented, but I know why. The part of me that endured it, that was raped repeatedly, swore one day he’d kill them and he’d never let anyone have power over him again. It’s all that got him—that got me through.”

  “Dom Connor.” My heart is breaking, cracking in half as surely as his psyche once did.

  “Baily, you have too much power over me. I need to get it back somehow. I’ve been dreaming about holding you down. That’s why I was so afraid to let you sign that paper. He’d done it before, enacted a rape fantasy with another woman. He thought she didn’t know who he was, thought he could ge
t it out of his system. In the end she threatened to file rape charges unless I paid her off.”

  “God, Connor.” He was killing me with every word.

  “That night in the car, I thought you wanted the same thing. That you wanted me to chase you, to take the choice from you. It made me crazy to think you were denying us both.”

  “I was drunk and clueless and your anger scared me to death.” But at the same time I was aroused. He’d stroked me to orgasm and if I hadn’t panicked I might have gotten off on everything.

  Taking a deep breath, I touch his face. “If we do this, I need to know you aren’t angry with me, that you’re not trying to take something out on my body.”

  His eyes widen. “You’re considering this?”

  I pause, expecting to hear something from Snarkarella, but she’s silent. “I love you, Connor. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I just want to be sure we both come back from this.”

  He nods. “You should do a little research on rape fantasy and edge play. Make sure this is really what you want. Come back to me when you’re ready. If you ever are.

  * * *

  It takes me about twelve hours to send him an email with my one word answer. Ready.

  It might be a lie. The research I’ve done online hadn’t been all that helpful. Edge play is anything considered borderline nuts in BDSM circles because it may result in injuries or even death. Blood play, fire play, erotic asphyxiation and rape fantasy all fall into this beyond the safe, sane and consensual category. Some men who’ve suffered abuse lose control during rape fantasy and wind up really raping their lovers.

  But if the alternative is losing Connor, it’s worth the risk.

  When he doesn’t respond right away I’m filled with relief and then disappointment. Maybe the part of me that’s still sane just wants to get this over with. I take a hot bath and then crawl between cool clean sheets, wishing my lover would come help me mess them up.

  He’s there when I wake, towering over me. I start in surprise. A hand covers my mouth as the other rip the sheets from the bed. I tremble under his touch, not from fear but from need. My body is hungry and only he can satisfy it.

  “You’re coming with me.” He strips my body of the flannel pajamas, buttons pinging. He binds my hands with rope. My eyes go wide at this first test, but then he moves to rub a whiskered cheek against my face. His familiar scent envelopes me. I’m safe with Connor. He won’t hurt me. “You’re mine.”

  After securing my hands, he moves on to my feet, then hoists me over his shoulder. I squeak in protest and one strong hand smacks hard against my bare ass. “Don’t make a sound or I’ll punish you.” The erotic stroke between my bare cheeks promises sensual torment.

  Just like the first time, he heads into the secret tunnel. I don’t know if this is part of his therapy or just a convenient way to take me unseen into the main estate. His strength astounds me, his touch electrifies, and I become more aroused with every step.

  Soon we enter his study, but he doesn’t stop there. Instead he heads down into that forbidden portion of the basement. He proceeds to the far wall, to the swing, and eases me into it.

  He secures one foot, and then the other into the swing, spreading me obscenely wide. His eyes glitter in the low light, like sapphires, his gaze locked on my exposed flesh. “I’m going to make you scream my name tonight.” It’s a vow and I don’t doubt for a second he can do it.

  A chain with a hook hangs down and he eases my arms up until the thick hook catches the binding. I struggle first with the waves of panic and being trapped, and then with the bindings. No safe-word! “Connor, I don’t know—”

  “Ssshhh.” His hands move over my exposed flesh, caressing me, exploring me, enticing me. I gasp when his fingers pinch my nipples hard, then groan when he rolls them between calloused thumb and forefinger.

  “You can’t stop this.” There’s actual glee in his voice. “I can do whatever I want to you, for hours. No decisions, you are mine to take, to control. To love however I see fit.”

  He leaves my breasts and turns to a small chest. It’s a freezer, I realize when he lifts the latch and cold air caresses my exposed skin. I shiver involuntarily. Reaching for the table, he draws on leather gloves. I frown, puzzled as to why he needs those.

  “I made something for you. Would you like to see it?”

  The wicked gleam in his eyes robs me of speech. What could he possibly be planning? I nod and he withdraws an ice rod that looks remarkably like a frozen…

  I gasp and he actually laughs, delighted. “I see you get the point. Or you’re about to.”

  I lick my lips and he brings the ice cock to them. “If you want to lick something, you can start here.

  My lips close around the wide circumference.

  “Swirl your tongue around it.” He strokes my hair, gentling me while I do his bidding. He trails it down my chin, leaving a path of droplets across my skin. I shiver and he kisses me, his heat replacing the cold even as the icy phallus circles my already puckered nipples.

  “Connor,” I gasp, as the buds tighten to the point of pain. He moves it away, following the outer swell up one arm then down the other. More melting means more droplets of water. I shiver though I actually feel hot. Goosebumps break out all over, every cell trained on my sensual tormenter.

  He follows the other arm back down. I jerk as the cold meets the sensitive underside of my arm. Just when I get used to the chill he places an open mouth kiss there.

  More melting, more wetness as he torments my breast, rolling the oblong object over the mounds, soaking my skin. His lips capture one nipple between his teeth even as the other is dabbed by the dripping cold water of the melting ice cock.

  My head falls back, tension so tight I don’t know how much more I can take. I must voice my concerns out loud, because he answers. “But we’ve only just begun.”

  Down it glides, dripping in my navel, the water pooling there until he laps it out. His eyes meet mine and my breath hitches when he sees exactly how much this fire and ice play is arousing me.

  He kneels before me. My sex is aching, needing contact with him. “Touch me,” I beg.

  But it’s the ice that covers my skin. I jump, not expecting the cold even though I should have. It doesn’t last long, soon replaced by his hot open mouth kiss.

  His tongue traces over my seam, dipping shallowly into my overflowing well. My head thrashes back and forth and I scream when the ice cock slides inside me, even as his burning lips capture my clit.

  I shatter, coming around the cold length, bucking into his hot mouth.

  Then it’s gone. He pulls it from my body and tackles his own pants. I’m shaking still, mindless with need, but the hot push of his cock clarifies everything.

  He doesn’t move, instead gripping the swing and pulling me onto him. He stretches me, warming me from the inside out, filling my greedy channel. I’m slick with water, wet with need and desperate for him.

  His control is iron hard as he withdraws by pushing me away, then melds us with another pull. Push-pull, over and over in the same maddeningly slow rhythm, his eyes locked on my face, waiting.

  “Connor,” I whisper his name on the end of a broken sob. I want him to give it to me, everything he’s held back, kept me safe from. I’ve given him everything and want no less in return.

  Then the ice cock is back, aimed at my clit. I shake my head furiously. “I can’t, I can’t.”

  “You will.”

  The cold touch sends me over. My voice breaks as I hit a higher note, screaming my release with a hot shaft filling me and a cold one tormenting me.

  But still he isn’t done. He withdraws from me slowly, and as though loath to leave. He reaches around me and reclines the swing so my back is parallel to the floor, with my toes still in the harness pointing toward the ceiling.

  I whimper as he licks my juicy cunt, out of my head, unable to hold any more pleasure. He can’t expect me to go through it all again.

 
; Can he?

  His gloved hands spread the round curves of my ass and I shudder as his tongue probes the tiny opening. Then a slow, wet glide with his flattened appendage that I can’t help but relax into in my post-orgasmic state.

  Of course he’s not satisfied to let me simply enjoy anything. While I’m expecting another luscious kiss on the sensitive skin, I get a cold probe with that frozen phallus. “No,” I pant, my body contracting around it.

  “Yes,” he says, before indulging me with another decadent lick.

  I expect the ice this time but my body resists. He patiently assaults my tight ring though, unrelenting. It occurs to me then exactly what he has in mind.

  He’ll fuck my ass with the cold cock before doing the same with his own. But the ice cock has lost considerable girth, while his is as huge and hard as ever. I shiver from more than the cold.

  As though he’s read my thoughts he murmurs, “Figured it out yet? That I’m going to take this tonight?” Another hot swipe, another cold press. I arch up as my body gives in. The cold numbs any pain as he pushes it deep, the melting water giving it a smooth, easy glide. I scream then, his name, just as he predicted, and he answers with a growl.

  The ice cock vanishes, and I pant, ready for him to take this final step, to join our bodies.

  Connor rises to his feet and whips off his gloves. He sets them on the table, then retrieves a bottle of lube. His eyes are intense as he pours it onto himself.

  I expect him to shove inside me then, can feel his heat at my stretched opening. But he hesitates, checking my face, checking to make sure I’m okay, that I want this.

  “Connor,” I moan, and then he presses forward. There’s little resistance as the head of his shaft breeches my body. I’m stretching around him easily, ready for him because he made sure I would be.

  “So tight,” he grunts, pulling the swing closer. I can’t do much but I can squeeze him with my inner muscles. “So hot.”

  I squeeze again, harder this time.

  “Yes!” he shouts, shoving all the way in. His head goes back and I see the sweat pouring down his neck. Without looking he reaches for my sex, sliding two fingers into my wet sheath, while his thumb presses on my clit. But he can’t pleasure me and control the swing at the same time. A frustrated groan rips from his chest.