Frost (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 3)

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Frost (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 3) Page 10

by Candace Blevins


  “And you want her to apologize to you — anything specific she needs to say? How formal do you want it?”

  He shook his head. “She already did, apparently without you ordering her to, which makes it mean even more. I’ll tell everyone she did, and that we’re square.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cheyenne

  Gil called and asked if I could come to breakfast after he took the boys to school, so we could talk before work, instead of waiting until lunch. Nora was still with the principal, and she’d be going to school from there.

  Frost hadn’t asked me to tell him my schedule, but it felt important to tell him what I was doing, so it didn’t look like I was sneaking around.

  I’m having breakfast with Gil to try to talk things out.

  I hope he’ll be reasonable. Let me know if you need anything. If I don’t hear from you by lunch, I’ll worry.

  I smiled. Frost wasn’t even trying to be subtle, but that was fine. I’d be happy to text him when Gil and I finished, so he wouldn’t worry.

  Thankfully, Gil was at least a little reasonable. He apologized for threatening to keep me from the kids. However, he reiterated that he didn’t want them around Frost.

  “That’ll work for a few weeks, but it isn’t feasible long term. We’ll revisit it when it becomes a problem.”

  “He’s bad news, Shy. He’s a criminal. I don’t want him around my kids.”

  “He manages a general contracting company. He has an engineering degree from freaking Georgia Tech. Stop being a damned snob because you don’t understand his lifestyle. He has a respectable degree and a respectable job.”

  “He spent time in jail.”

  “Because he stole a car to stay alive during the riots. The owners were dead in the front seat — they didn’t need it anymore.”

  “And he had a fully automatic weapon.”

  “That he was using to shoot demons and Celrau! Fuck, Gil! He was fighting for our side!”

  “I don’t like him. Neither does the wolf.”

  “I get that, but I’m pretty sure you aren’t going to like anyone I seriously date, so my response is that you need to figure out how to deal with that. You’re a father — you can’t afford to be childish about this. Nora had to be the adult last night because you weren’t being one.”

  He started to argue, but I spoke before he could.

  “She couldn’t trust you to be rational and calm enough to help her with her wolf, and you forbid her from getting help from me, so she went to someone who could help her stay human.”

  He sighed. “Okay. Yeah.”

  The following days were a whirlwind. Frost ended up at my house most evenings, and he spent the night more often than not. He brought food with him for dinner, and he showed up with bags of breakfast food from the grocery store once.

  “I have plenty of food,” I told him when he showed up with groceries one evening.

  “I know, but I’m eating a lot of it. Once you can spend time at my place some, it’ll balance out better. Until then, let me help with the food.”

  “I’m not hurting for money, Frost.”

  “Glad to hear it. Neither am I.”

  I wasn’t sure it was possible, but sex got even more intense. Or, not the sex, exactly, but the energy of it. He knew exactly what I needed, even when I didn’t. So long as I obeyed, he gave me incredible, mind-melting orgasms. When I didn’t, he withheld them. Spankings were part of giving me pleasure, even though they fucking hurt. It was twisted, but I couldn’t argue with the fact I needed it.

  So far, he’d spanked me with his hand and a leather paddle, and I preferred the paddle, which had surprised me. I honestly didn’t mind bending over for a spanking when he had it in his hand.

  While we ate one day, he asked, “Have you successfully masturbated since you found the secret to having an orgasm?”

  I absolutely didn’t want to answer that question, but I knew better than to try to keep from it.

  “No.”

  “Have you tried?”

  “Yes. Fuck. It only works when you do it.” I’d tried pinching my own nipples while I masturbated. I’d even put a fucking clamp on my clit. Nothing worked to get myself off.

  He grinned. “Good, then I don’t have to ask you not to orgasm until I tell you to.”

  I glared at him. “Not funny.”

  “I’m not trying to be funny. I don’t want you to orgasm unless I give you permission.”

  “And are you going to follow that?”

  “I haven’t fucked a sweetbutt in weeks. If you want me to not jack off in the shower, we’re going to need to move in together. I can’t move you into my house, since it’s part of the spa complex.”

  “You aren’t fucking anyone else? At all?” I didn’t mean to sound so incredulous, but I hadn’t asked him to stop, and I’d assumed he was still grabbing a sweetbutt whenever the urge hit him.

  “Have you smelled anyone on me?”

  “No, but I thought...” I shrugged. “I assumed you were, and that you were changing.” Not to hide it, but to keep from being so in-your-face about it.

  “I’m not interested in anyone but you.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I went back to the other part of the conversation. “I don’t want to leave my house. You’re already here a lot.” I shrugged. “It feels like the real problem is that I can’t be a part of your friends. Your social circle.”

  “Squatch said you apologized to him?”

  “Yeah. At the restaurant. He went to the bathroom, and I followed and waited outside. It felt like I needed to apologize to him personally. It hadn’t been about him, but it got aimed at him, and I regret that.”

  “Good call. He appreciated it. The rule is three times what you would have gotten, but that’s for sweetbutts. He’s going to try to convince the membership that a returning ol’lady should only get double. He’s willing to say he was considering twenty-five, and he’ll lobby that the first twenty-five are OTK with my hand, and the final are over the back of the sofa with a belt. It’ll have to be enough to make you cry. You know that.”

  He took a breath, and I scented regret, sorrow, and sadness. He wanted this over with, so we could move past it.

  “Only full members,” he continued, “any sweetbutts who were present that night, and ol’ladies who were present will be allowed to watch. Or, that’s what we’re hoping to convince the club to vote for.”

  “And then I’ll be accepted at the clubhouse like I am at the restaurant?”

  “Even more.”

  “I need to get used to the idea. Besides, ya’ll haven’t voted on it yet.”

  “No, we haven’t, but I need to know you’ll go through with it if we bring it to a vote. If you won’t, it’s best we leave it alone. If they vote on it and you don’t? You won’t get the acceptance you have now at the restaurant.”

  That made sense, but I couldn’t tell him anything in that moment. He’d hit me with a lot of information and I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.

  “I’ll see you Saturday night, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll let you know then.”

  “Okay. I’m going to give you the fifty now — twenty-five over my knee and then twenty-five with my belt. Pull your jeans down and bend over my lap.”

  I shook my head without even thinking about it. No way.

  “This is why we’re doing it now, so you’ll know what you’re in for. Do it, Cheyenne. It wasn’t a request.”

  I shook my head again, and he sat back a little. “What’s the problem?”

  “I don’t want to.”

  “Doesn’t matter if you want to. When it comes to sex and orgasms, I know what you need. We’ve agreed to that, right?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Okay then. Bend over my lap. If you haven’t done it by the time I reach a count of five, you won’t get an orgasm for three days.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Frost


  My dick swelled when she pushed her jeans to her knees and folded her lithe, supple body over my lap.

  The first ten weren’t terribly hard. I’d need to light into her harder off the bat in front of the club, but I’d have her prepped better by then.

  I stopped, fingered her, touched the outside of her asshole, teased it, and then went back to spanking her. Harder now — enough she gasped, squirmed, and even yelped a little.

  When I hit twenty-five, I smelled her fear and I drank it in. Part of me didn’t like her being afraid, but the sadist inside me fed off it.

  I’d never struck her with a belt, and she didn’t know what to expect. She’s smart, so she knew it was going to hurt worse than my hand.

  “Okay, my hardheaded little kitten, lean over the back of the sofa and put your hands flat on the seat cushion. Every time you lift both hands, that’s an orgasm you don’t get tonight. You know all those times you were so close but couldn’t, before I came back into your life? I suggest you keep your hands in place.”

  I’d denied her from coming a few times when she hadn’t obeyed an order during sex, but I hadn’t gone so far as ritualizing a lost orgasm. I knew she’d lift her hands at least once or twice during her belting, but that was okay — it was time for her to learn what it was like to be tortured with a lost orgasm.

  I put a small chalkboard beside her, and a piece of chalk. I can’t stand the way dry erase markers smell.

  “I’ll mark down every time you lift your hands, to make sure I don’t screw up the count with the belt.”

  She gasped when I stuck two fingers in her pussy. “You’re already needy.”

  “And you talk too damned much.”

  I chuckled, stepped back, and let the belt fly. Hard.

  It hurt, but I meant for it to. Her scream filled the room and echoed back. I stepped to her and rubbed just below the crimson stripe.

  “You’re okay. That’s one, and your hands are still on the seat cushion. I’m pleased.” I put my mouth to her ear and spoke low and deep. “Someday, I’m going to order you to orgasm while I whip you with a belt, and you will.”

  She shook her head in denial, but her body’s reactions told me she knew it would happen. I didn’t need to see her face to read her.

  I took it slow, and even gave her a few breaks where I brought her close to an orgasm with my fingers — but didn’t quite let her get over the edge. Not a lost orgasm, because the belt added to it.

  It was probably forty minutes later when I finally told her, “Three more. I’m going to give them all at once, and I need you to stay down. Grab the cushion and hold on, sweetheart. You only have two marks on that chalkboard. Let’s keep it there.” I rubbed her back. “These are going to be harder than anything I’ve done before, and I won’t give you a break between. Be strong for me, kitty cat.”

  Cheyenne

  He hadn’t been kidding about the final three. I couldn’t stop my screams, but I managed to keep my hands on the seat cushion. Tears spilled from my eyes, and yet, my ass was sticking out, practically begging for more.

  And then his dick was in my cunt, fucking me hard and fast. “You get one orgasm before I have to start denying them. Good girls get rewards, and you were so damned good, staying down through the final three.”

  He yanked out and plunged into my asshole. He didn’t make it all the way in, but he said, “Come, Cheyenne. Squeeze my cock with your ass.”

  He slapped the side of my butt, where the belt had hit over and over, and my body obeyed. I hoped it was okay to stop touching the sofa cushion, because I reached back and put my hands over his, which were around my hips. My back arched, my clit dug into the back of the sofa, and my eyes rolled back in my head as the orgasm rolled over me and my entire body spasmed and shook.

  When it finally waned, he came out of my ass, lifted me in his arms, and took me to my bed.

  He was gentle for a little while, fucking me from behind while I was on my side. Talking sweetly, rubbing my hip, his fingers gentle over the owies from the belt.

  And then he put nipple clamps on — cruel ones that made me want to beg him to take them off, but I knew better, because sometimes he actually takes things off when I beg.

  He lubed me up really good, but he didn’t stretch me, and then he fucked my ass relentlessly. I was so close to an orgasm, I could taste it.

  His hand landed on my clit, and he rubbed it. Too rough, too much, but it almost put me over to an orgasm.

  Almost, but I couldn’t, because he hadn’t told me to.

  “We’re going to do a countdown, my kitty with so little self-control. Are you ready?”

  “Yes. Fuck yes. I need to come so fucking bad.”

  “I know you do.” He rubbed my clit a little easier.

  “Ten. Don’t you dare come yet.”

  “Oh, please!”

  “Nine, but you aren’t close enough to the edge just yet.” He pumped my ass fast and hard another dozen times.

  “Eight. That’s a little better. Just how badly do you need to come?”

  “So, so bad.”

  It seemed to take him forever to make it through the countdown, and I was nearly in tears, I needed to come so bad.

  “Two. So close. Just a little longer. Remember, you don’t get to come until I order it. You need to hear the command before you can find your release.”

  He slammed into my ass and held himself deep inside, spreading my asshole wide.

  “One.”

  He breathed in again.

  “Zero.” As he said it, he came out of my ass, rolled me to my back, and leaned over me, holding my right wrist and ankle in one hand, and my left wrist and ankle in the other. I was spread wide open, my feet and hands above my head, my crotch up in the air without anything touching it. My pussy and ass clenched on nothing, and I cried out in frustration.

  “But you don’t get an orgasm, do you? Naughty kitties don’t get release.”

  With my legs and arms held so wide apart, I couldn’t hump the air, I couldn’t pull my legs together, I couldn’t touch my clit. I tried to fight him, but the position didn’t allow for any leverage on my part.

  “Fuck you! Dammit! I need to come! Please!”

  Tears formed in my eyes and spilled over. Tears of frustration and need.

  He breathed in, as if he was feeding on my frustration, or my need, or maybe something else. He put his nose at my neck and breathed in again, and then rested his cheek on mine, so he spoke close to my ear.

  “Oh, such sweet, sweet denial.” He pulled back and moved so I could see his cock. “Look at my dick, Cheyenne. It turns out, denying you an orgasm does it for me. Oh, we’re definitely going to play with this. But for tonight, you only have one more lost orgasm before you get them. I keep my word.”

  He kept watching my face, and I knew he was using his bird-vision to look for signs I wasn’t horny anymore, so pretending I was over it wouldn’t work, and might piss him off.

  Eventually, it passed. Gone.

  All the tension, the hormones, the need, hadn’t been released. It was still there, but under the surface. I couldn’t access it anymore, but it was still in me.

  When he let me up, he bound my hands behind my back, wrists to elbows. He made me lie face up on the bed and then lean my head over the edge, upside down. And then, because that wasn’t enough, he put a damned spreader bar between my ankles. I hadn’t even realized he’d brought one with him, but it telescoped out and then locked, so it hadn’t been long in his bag.

  All of this was so he could fuck my throat while he stood beside the bed. Hard, fast, and brutal.

  I gagged and retched and fought for air, but he completely ignored my struggles. It probably took less than ten minutes, but it felt like forever — with my clit throbbing, my pussy empty, and no way for me to touch myself or even close my legs.

  And then he finally came down my throat, pumping deep in my esophagus, straight into my stomach while I gagged and tried to eject his cock from my th
roat.

  And through it all, I was horny as fuck.

  He left me there while he threaded a long rope under my bed, so one end came up under my headboard, and the other end of the rope came up under my footboard. I whined when he lifted me and settled me in the center of the bed longwise. Fuck, I needed him to touch me, to help me get off.

  He tied the rope at the footboard to my left ankle cuff, removed the spreader bar from both ankle cuffs, lifted my right foot to the top of the bed, and tied the rope off to that ankle cuff. I’m limber, so the stretch didn’t hurt, but it left my pussy wide open between. Next, he disconnected my hands from behind my back and tied them off to the rope above my head as well. I was mostly on my left side, stretched between the ropes.

  “Please, please let me come this time, Frost. I’m begging.”

  “Oh, and you beg so pretty, but I keep my promises, and you came up twice.”

  I squealed when his cock found my pussy and sank in from behind, and then yelped when he squeezed and twisted my right nipple. Damn, who knew there was a nerve going from your nipples to your clit? Fucking A, but my clit throbbed with nothing touching it. Nothing but the cool, dry air.

  “Someday, I’m going to play around with temporary piercings. Put a big needle through your clit, thread a circle through it, and then take you out to eat with your clit throbbing, and maybe a huge butt plug lubed with tiger balm.”

  My clit pulsed. The walls of my pussy clenched around his cock.

  Thirty damned minutes of this before he started the damned countdown, and he started fucking higher this time.

  “Twenty.”

  I saw the clamp in his hands a few seconds before it went on my clit, and I gasped, screamed, and tried to jerk away from the exquisite sharp pain, but it was hopeless with my restraints, and with his fat dick alternating slow smooth strokes with hard, punishing ones.

  “Your clit loves to be clamped, even though it’s in another of those countdowns you’re going to learn to love to hate. Nineteen. What’s going to happen when I get to zero?”

 

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