by P Nelson
“So much, Master. I can’t hold on for much longer. I swear.” The last came out in a whine. Sweat had broken out all over her body; she was slick inside and out. Calla knowing there was nowhere for her to shower or clean up only made her hotter. The evidence of Flynn working her over would remain until they got to the club. Every person she passed leaving the building would know Flynn had been all over her, inside her. “I will come.” The last thought sent her over the edge, without his mouth on her pussy.
Flynn still obliged her. The tip of his tongue pressed into her clit and she shattered. A scream bubbled up from some primal place in the back of her throat, her legs clenched, back arching hard enough for Calla to see stars on the panels of the ceiling above. This man brought her pleasure, pain and peace. A sob escaped her and tears ran down her face. She was Calla without him. But she was so much more with him.
It took a long time to come back down again from her high. When she did, Calla faced a very naked Flynn who was staring at her with his cock in one hand.
“Are you ready to suck my cock, sub?” He demanded. The planes of his face were hard, skin stretched over a bone. The fact he held back his own pleasure to give her more only made her heart melt more for him.
“Yes, Master.” Calla ran her tongue across her lower lip while staring up at him. Flynn’s nostrils flaring were her reward. He came forward until the head of his dick was a mere inch away from her lips.
“Swallow your master’s cock sub.” He ordered and waited. Calla admired the taut length for a second. Her tongue darted out and electricity arched through them both. She loved the power she held over Flynn at this moment. How his body flexed when she sucked the head of his cock into her mouth. The way he groaned when she worked the glands on top. Calla had his full attention, and she didn’t waste it.
A hand came down on the top of her head and his fingers pulled through the strands of her hair. She did her best to get as far down his cock as possible, but he had an enormous cock. Not as big as the freak, Master Hjalmar, but big enough that it was part of many sub discussions at The Cage locker room. And it was all hers. She slid all the way down one side and sucked one of his balls into her mouth. She chewed and listened with pleasure at the groan above her. Releasing the first tight ball, she gave the second one the same treatment, sucking and pulling on the skin. In front of her, Flynn’s thighs tightened.
He could’ve come when she first placed her tongue on the end of his erection. But he held back. Flynn wanted to enjoy her creativity. She ran her tongue back up his cock and plunged down over the head.
“Fuck.” Flynn swore above her. His hand tightening on her locks. Calla moved her head back and forth in a vigorous rhythm. “Yes.” Came out in a hiss as Flynn’s breathing became heavier. “I’m going to cum down your throat, Calla. And I want you to drink down every drop.” He commanded in a pained tone. She didn’t answer. Flynn let go of her hair and arched his back.
Calla breathed out of her nose, her mouth and throat full of his throbbing erection. The first taste of his cum in her mouth came in the next instant. Flynn’s shout of completion rang around them. She did her best to swallow everything down, but there was too much.
Flynn pulled his cock from her mouth and had her up in his arms and settled in his lap a moment later. He used own fingers, he wiped the excess cum from her chin and stared down at her. They were silent, both in their own thoughts. Calla wanted to declare her undying love for him. The last hour had been a glimpse of the life they would share with one another. The heavy engagement ringer on her finger. There was no way of knowing what was to come. Their relationship, breakup, a new contract and now engagement had all happened under clouds of uncertainty. The future held no promises of smooth sailing, but Calla knew she would rather tough out the hardest of storms with Flynn, than avoid rough waters altogether and be alone. She would never find a connection like this with another Dom like the one she had with Flynn.
“I think this room has shown its merits. I might have it refurbished.” Flynn glanced around. Calla stared up at him for half a second before she laughed. Joy filled her despite the stormy clouds ahead.
Chapter Eighteen
Their departure for The Cage later in the afternoon proved the final straw of Flynn’s limited patience. After he and Calla cuddled upstairs in his former great grandfathers secret tryst room, which he was considering having refurbished, they walked back downstairs. Flynn commandeered his brothers small shower off his office as Flynn’s own office was a no go area because of the sniper. His secretary was dispatched to find Calla at least a brush for her hair and they had retired to the boardroom.
Flynn had worked on several reports and statements, which would go out to the press the next morning and spent most of his time on the phone. Calla also spent a great deal of time on the phone and replying to messages from her email. Her private practice co-workers had all expressed support for her during the enforced absence. And Calla was doing her best to stay in touch with the most problematic of her clients.
She had been more than patient, she had never asked when she might return to her regular life and neither Flynn nor Linkin had any answers. Flynn had hoped of hearing from Chamberlain, but there was still no sign of the federal detective. He knew the assassin and the Reverend all came from Enbridge. The why was the pipeline. But the resolution was far from forthcoming.
Right now Linkin stood in the boardroom shaking his head. Flynn loved the man like a brother. But he wanted a night out; with his fiancée at the club he had built.
“Do you know the shit show you’re going to cause going to the club tonight?” Linkin’s brutal question aimed at Flynn. “You’ve stayed away from the club on purpose to protect the club and its patrons.”
“Send out a text and email warning to all members ensuring they know I’ll be at the club tonight and if they fear for their identity or their safety, they can stay home.” Flynn kept his tone calm and even.
“And what about you? If I were an assassin, I’d hide up somewhere on route to the club or near the club.” Linkin pointed out.
“Because I’m sure you might have been a sniper during your military career. I will hazard a guess you’ve already taken care of planning all kinds of different routes and searching every hedge along the way. Flynn pointed out, bored with the argument.
“I’ve got a bad feeling.” Linkin admitted. “And I’ve learned to listen to my bad feelings.”
Flynn glanced over at Calla who had given up all pretence of reading her laptop screen and was watching him and Linkin. He wanted to protect her, but his need to shield her from everything negative had only resulted in their separation. First when he broke their thirty day training contract and second when he travelled to Vancouver alone to face the charges against him.
“I have it too.” Flynn continued his argument with Linkin.
“Something is brewing and I’ll be damned if I know what it is.” It frustrated Linkin. It wasn’t an emotion associated with the man who on a regular day looked like he took down five commandos and not break a sweat. “There’s been nothing on the web, the dark web. Nothing. Lack of chatter on Enbridge. On the charges against you.” Linkin shook his head. “Something big is coming. And our friend has disappeared.”
Flynn stopped his head from turning towards Calla. “He’s still out there.”
The expression on Linkin’s face revealed the other man was unconvinced. “Chamberlain was a trained operative. He’s been in hairy situations before. But after doing research and by research, I mean grilling the fuck out of people who work with him, they all said the same thing. He’s never been out of contact for this long.”
“Shit happens. Things go sideways.” Flynn wasn’t giving up on Chamberlain. Perhaps because he recognised a kindred spirit. “I will not presume Chamberlain is dead until I see his body with my own eyes.”
“Who would’ve killed him?” The quiet question made his chest ache. Just knowing Calla was speculating about the uglines
s surrounding them broke his heart and caused his blood to boil at the same time.
“These Enbridge assholes are fucking serious.” Linkin strode over to the doors of the glassed-in boardroom. “I would’ve expected the bullets flying around your head at the train station brought that home.”
“Don’t attack her.” Flynn was across the room and posturing up to Linkin in less than thirty seconds. Frustration and anger boiled over. People did not tell him what the fuck to do. He gave orders, and they obeyed.
“I’m not.” Linkin’s cold gaze bored into Flynn. It would’ve crumbled a lesser man, but he was an alpha cave man in his own right. “You brought her into this. A conscious decision. This is the impasse. You need to give her the information she needs to survive in this field. You keeping shit from her at this point is moot. We have no information anyway.”
Flynn stared his friend down. The man he trusted with the security at The Cage, Calla’s well being and his own. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t say it often. Linkin’s eyes widened. “Am I that big of an asshole?” He joked.
“You’re in a nightmare situation.” Linkin offered. “I’d go out of my fucking mind if Delaney or Martin were in the same danger Calla has been facing for months. And people have told me on many occasions, I am that big of an asshole.” He looked over at Calla. “I want it to scare you. It’ll keep you alive.” He glanced at Flynn. “Be downstairs in twenty. I’d rather take advantage of the light if you’re going to make all our lives difficult.” He turned on his heel and walked out the door.
“It’s true what he said about himself.” Calla piped up from her seat on the other side of the boardroom table. “Delaney has a few scary stories.”
“I’m considering the source.” Flynn remarked stalking back down the table towards her. “I would take anything she said with a grain of salt. Aside from the fact she is always talking about a sub revolution.”
“You heard about the sub revolution?” Calla sat straighter in her chair, keeping an eye on Flynn’s progress with a wary eye.
“How do you imagine I’ve been able to avoid hearing about it?” Flynn walked up to her and held his hand out.
“Why hasn’t anyone said anything to her?” Calla asked grasping his fingers. He gripped her tight enough to pull her from the chair.
“Because as long as she thinks the plan is under wraps, I get to hear about all the details.” Flynn explained. “When I’m looking for trouble in the dungeon, I don’t have to go far. You subs believe you have the Doms figured out, but we’re smarter than we look.”
“You look smart to me.” Calla stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. The natural affection taking him back for a second. Only the fact they stood in the middle of his place of business stopped him from kissing her back.
“Come. Grab your coat and purse. I have an outfit ready for you in your locker at the club.” Flynn was already expecting his evening of debauchery with the woman he loved. It would be great to catch up with whoever braved the cameras of media too. But Flynn wanted to make the evening all about his fiancée.
“Ready.” She turned tying up her coat. The ruby he gave her earlier sparkling on her ring finger. Purse over her shoulder.
“Good. Make sure you keep it short in the locker room.” Flynn told her grabbing his own jacket and wallet. “We’ll leave everything as is? That way you can come back to it tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” Calla smiled at him.
“Let’s not think about tomorrow.” He took her hand in his, raised their joined fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Let’s think about tonight. We’ve got Alwen cornered. All she can do it drop the charges and admit she hasn’t got anything.” Flynn nodded at Nick who was lounging near one of the pretty admin’s desks. He would get him into the dungeon before there was a sexual harassment lawsuit.
The admin pulled a frown when Nick pushed away from her desk and made to follow them. Maybe he’d have to wrangle her an invitation too. Problems were for tomorrow and tonight they weren’t thinking about them.
“How can you already have something in my locker?” Calla questioned on the ride down to the underground parking lot. Another one of Linkin’s rules. No getting in or out of cars in the open unless it was necessary.
“Because, baby. I spend most of my day trying to think of debauched things to do to your sweet body. This means I have many outfits for you waiting at my disposal at The Cage, at home and at the estate.” Flynn glanced down at her surprised face. “I’m a Dom. We plan shit. It’s what we do.”
“Shit.” Nick shoved in front of them and tried to press the stop button on the elevator. The doors had already opened. “Fuck.” He pulled a handgun out of somewhere and stood in front. “Get your asses back upstairs. Follow the escape plan." He ordered shoving his body out of the doors, Flynn pushed Calla back into a corner of the elevator and tried to get the doors of the elevator to close back again.
The problem was two fold. The elevator was an antique. It had proper maintenance, but it wasn’t meant to be pushed like this. Second and far more important was the fact the close button couldn’t override a human body standing in the door. Nick had several guns pointing at his head while a man stood staring at Flynn with his hands in his suit pant packets. An unfriendly smile on his face.
“Mr Banroch.” An eastern Canadian accent bit on the man’s consonants. “A real pleasure to make your acquaintance. If you would step out of the elevator, we can be on our way.” The elevator alarm punctuated the last of his comment. Flynn had completed Linkin’s formal training. It was compulsory for every person he provided a bodyguard.
“Dr Jones has nothing to do with this.” Flynn knew she hadn’t moved from where he had shoved her when the doors opened. “Let her go.”
“You have no idea who we are.” The man looked behind Flynn and he shifted his body to protect Calla. Something inside him awakened. He needed to protect her at all costs. There was no way these assholes would lay a hand on her. “And I think Dr Jones is very much involved in all this.” The man’s gaze switched back to Flynn. “Because she is involved with you.”
“Leave her out of this.” Flynn shifted his feet; taking up the stance Linkin had taught him during their one on one personal training sessions. A quick gaze at Nick and he was thinking the same thing as him. There was no sign of Linkin in the parking garage behind the man and his band of merry terrorists. Flynn had to assume he and Nick were on their own. He prayed, once he’d shoved this asshole out of the doors of the elevator and jumped out, that Calla would have enough time to get the doors closed and run.
She knew the emergency escape plan inside and out. Linkin and Nick had grilled them both on the safest and best way to get out of the Banroch building and to the best safe house. There they would whisk her to a private location until they deemed it safe for her to return. The man in front of Flynn shook his head.
“And I was hoping for the easy route.” A second later, Flynn suffered a pain in his chest. He looked down to see a dart protruding from his chest. Turning, he caught the look of horror on Calla’s face as he fell to the floor.
&
Calla’s heart stopped. She reached out to break Flynn’s fall, but he was too heavy. The best she managed was to make sure he didn’t bang his head. Chaos reigned all around her. Tears splashed onto Flynn’s face and her hands shook while cradling his head. Huge sobs punched through her chest and Calla became light headed.
She looked up. Someone had shouted her name. Nick took advantage of Flynn’s fall to take down a couple of the men holding guns to his head. He was shouting at her to get the elevator moving. She jumped up, trying to move Flynn’s legs from the doorway, but he was so damn heavy.
Even if Calla had gotten the doors closed and the elevator moving, there was no way she was strong enough to help him escape. She searched his relaxed face, eyes closed in sleep. She made her choice. Calla punched the open door button on the elevator and stared at the eerie calm outside.
“You’ve made
the right choice Dr Jones.” The man who had spoken before praised her. Calla bristled, but didn’t look at him. Instead she stared at Nick who was lying face down on the pavement with his hands in a black zip tie around his back. She pleaded with him to understand.
“I couldn’t leave him.” Her words simple. But they caused more tears to fall down her face.
“He wouldn’t want this for you.” Nick shook his head. Blood seeped from his mouth and a cut above his eye. A couple of the men above him sported their own wounds and one clutched at his chest.
“Where he goes, I go.” Calla stood up and faced the man who gave orders to his men.
“Get Banroch and Dr Jones into the van. Make sure neither of them are carrying tracking devices. No cell phones, identity cards. You know the drill.” He looked down at Nick coughing and spitting out a mouthful of blood. “We’ll take this one and our old friend Mr Pearce.”
“There’s no need to bring them.” Calla interjected. Courage came from some unknown place inside her. Panic overwhelmed her at the train station watching Joe bleed out. Calla stared at Nick on the ground right now brought all her PTSD back. But she could save his life right now. Calla could do good. “I hired them. They know nothing.”
“Contrary to what you believe Dr Jones,” The man in the cheap suit motioned with his chin and several black-suited men picked Nick up by his bound arms. Nick grimaced and let out a low grunt, but didn’t otherwise make a protest. “We’ve needed to speak with Mr Pearce for some time now and one of his operatives will be a bonus.”
A man dressed all in black wearing tactical gear came forward and grabbed her arm. He pulled her out of the elevator, but Calla used all her strength to stop him.
“I’m not going anywhere without him.” She tried to twist away from the man, but his grip was strong. Somehow he got both her arms behind her back. Calla gasped. The pull on her arms put pressure on her sockets.