Nonetheless, having Alyssa come by was best; Sir certainly wouldn’t take the time to get a referral to a regular therapist, let alone go to any appointments.
I can handle a little jealousy. For Nolan.
Of course, she could handle it better if she had some nice big breasts like the therapist’s. Beth rolled her eyes. Now, there was a goal.
What do you want in life, Beth?
World peace. A large family. Huge tits.
Talk about silly. Aside from giving her Master something fun to grope, huge knockers would totally get in her way, would probably make her shoulders ache—and, with her luck? Some bus door would close on them.
Go, girl. Take a shower and try not to think about Alyssa touching Sir.
Chapter Four
His little rabbit was taking a long time in the shower.
In jeans and T-shirt, Nolan leaned against the kitchen counter, drinking iced tea. When he came in from the patio, he realized she was in the bathroom. Odd. Normally, she woke him up if he was sleeping when she left or when she got home.
What was going on with his Beth?
Her exhaustion and weight loss, although worrying, weren’t unexpected. The distance between them though, this was new. Fuck, he wished he’d turned Raoul down and stayed home for the summer. Of course, after hearing about the conditions, his softhearted Beth had been adamant he should go. And the village had needed him. He’d seen the piss-poor shelter they’d been using, seen the sick and injured lying in the dirt, suffering from heat and insects.
Now, he needed to find out what had happened here while he was gone.
He glanced at the fridge and considered making lunch. She didn’t need to miss more meals. But perhaps a better strategy would be to catch her right out of the shower.
In the bedroom, he sat on the bed and worked his shoulder as he waited. Alyssa had good hands, and the pain was better. A pity she’d broken up with her Master, though. Some submissives did poorly after being uncollared.
As he stretched, Nolan monitored the sounds from the bathroom.
The shower stopped. Drying off. Lotioning. The door opened.
Hair wet and tangled, Beth emerged with a towel wrapped around her body. Seeing him, she stopped dead.
Nolan smiled. Funny how sometimes she struck him as gorgeous, other times simply heartwarmingly pretty. He had to say, though, her big turquoise eyes were always the most beautiful he’d ever seen. Her skin was lightly tanned, her face, arms, and shoulders freckled, and her breasts were a flawless white. “Come here, sugar.”
When she hesitated, he studied her carefully. With the abuse in her past, he was cautious of frightening her; however, he did enjoy raising her anxiety a bit. It was part of the push and pull in their relationship. Just as his clever Beth wasn’t a blindly obedient submissive—no matter how much she loved to serve him—she preferred the reins in his hands, but would still give a tug now and then.
And they both enjoyed the fact he didn’t loosen his grip.
When he took her hand and pulled her between his legs, she bit her lip nervously. Heat rose from her shower-warmed skin along with the fragrance of her strawberry-scented shampoo and soap.
Mmm. Ever since meeting her, the scent of strawberries would give him a hard-on.
With one finger, he traced the velvety skin above the top of her towel. Several shiny white scars bore evidence of her previous husband’s torture. It’d be a pleasure to kill the bastard again and, this time, go about it slower. When he realized his gaze had lingered on her scars, he looked up.
Distress showed in her eyes. Her puffy, reddened eyes. What the hell? “You’ve been crying.” He curved his hands around her waist, securing her in front of him. “Tell me why.”
Her head gave a shake, and she covered the scars with her hands.
Hell, he’d fucked up. She was sensitive about the marks of past abuse, partly because of the memories, partly because of the marring of her skin. And he’d rubbed in the fact that she had scars, damn him for a fool.
Talking would have to wait. Good thing he was just the Dom to get her to mellow out. “All right. We can talk about the tears later.”
Under his palms, her muscles relaxed.
“Is your period finished, little rabbit?” The same syndrome that rendered her infertile also gave her extremely short periods lasting hours instead of days.
She nodded, her gaze averted.
“Are you achy? Tender?”
“No,” she whispered.
She hadn’t been this insecure since they’d first gotten together. He needed to find out why. And he damn well would. Carefully.
“I’m glad to hear it.” He tugged her towel downward, ignoring her half-grab as her breasts were exposed. Mercilessly, he tightened his legs, trapping her in place so he could use his hands.
He loved all of her body, but, yeah, he was a breast man and hers were amazing. So small and firm. Her solid muscles beneath held them up as if she were in her twenties rather than early thirties. Enjoying the pure white skin, he ran his knuckles underneath each one, and the small raspberry-colored nipples puckered. He leaned forward and traced his tongue over the pebbled sweetness, flicked the tips, and felt her start to tremble.
She tried to step back.
Mistake, Beth thought, when Sir lifted his head and pinned her with his black gaze.
“Do you think I’ll let you back away from me today?” he asked, ever so quietly. His sable hair was loose, brushing his broad shoulders, and he hadn’t yet shaved. The jagged scar over his cheekbone and the dark, short beard gave him an edgy menace.
Her mouth went dry as her knees wobbled. She shook her head.
“We’re going to make love, little rabbit.” His hard lips curved, reminding her of the relentless Master he could be when he decided on an action. “Do you remember your safeword?”
Her eyes widened. It had been a long time since she’d even thought about a safeword, but that he needed to remind her meant he was going to push her…now, when she was feeling so off. When she didn’t want to talk with him or—
“Beth?”
“Red. It’s red, Sir.”
“Good.” Holding her in place with his legs, he deliberately resumed his actions, twirling his tongue around and around each nipple and licking over the top. So wet and slick and warm.
Shivers coursed down her body. Oh God.
His teeth closed on one peak, compressing to the very point of pain, before pulling it into his mouth and sucking.
A slow pulse of arousal awakened in her pelvis.
As he alternated breasts, he rubbed his short beard against the sensitive sides in an erotically unfamiliar sensation. He nipped. He sucked. Teeth. Tongue. Lips. Beard.
Her breasts swelled. The skin tightened. And a lovely heat bloomed beneath her skin.
“Now, kiss me, subbie.” He didn’t wait for her compliance, but curved a hand over her nape and pulled her head down. Her cold, wet hair spilled forward, slapping over the heated skin of her breasts.
When he teased his lips over hers, the beard made him feel like a stranger, and she stiffened. His hand closed tighter. But, as he nibbled on her lower lip, her mouth softened, letting him take possession. Nothing was unfamiliar about the insistent, confident way he kissed, and a sigh escaped.
He took her mouth deeply, possessive and demanding, continuing as he rose to his feet and bent her back, pressing her pelvis against him with one steely arm. His erection was thick against her stomach, his body rock hard against hers.
And he kept kissing her until every thought disappeared right out of her head, and her body melted into his.
When he released her mouth, her legs had turned to jelly, and only his arm kept her upright. Amusement lit his eyes as he waited for her to find her balance again.
Once she could stand alone, he stripped her towel completely off and opened a drawer on the nightstand. “Since we removed the bondage hardware from the bed, let’s use this instead.” He lifted ou
t a dark red leather harness and started fastening it around her torso.
“Where did this come from?” Vertical straps running down her front and back anchored two horizontal ones. One went around her waist. The other went around her neck like a collar. Beth shivered as he buckled it on.
“Before I left for Africa, a sales rep visited the Shadowlands when the Masters were meeting. He showed us his stock, and I liked this one.” He took his time, tightening and fitting, before adding ankle and wrist cuffs as well. Finally, he wrapped a wider cuff around her right thigh above her knee and did the same on the left.
Although the harness wasn’t as…carnally comforting as the rope Sir preferred, the leather warmed to her skin quickly.
“It isn’t rope, but sometimes faster is good.” The dark simmer in his eyes promised pleasure…and other more ominous things…and her body reacted as if it was onboard all the way. He clipped her wrist cuffs to the collar and played with her breasts some more, deliberately showing her she couldn’t stop him.
Her resistance, her worries were slowly melting away under his confident control.
He straightened and patted the mattress. “Up here and on your back.”
Without the ability to use her hands, she was forced to wiggle her way onto the bed and roll over clumsily. The meanie.
His appreciative chuckle for the show was low and gravelly, and she felt herself flush.
After dragging her to the mattress’s edge, he clipped the left ankle cuff to the back of the thigh cuff, pressed her leg toward her chest, and hooked the front of the thigh cuff to the side of the waist belt. When he did the same on the right, her bent legs were splayed out on each side of her body. He’d always liked having her pussy available for anything he wanted to do.
The knowledge sent a pulsing desire swirling through her pelvis.
He pulled more items from the nightstand. More new stuff. Good God, she needed to check the drawers on his side of the bed more often.
The first toy was a small anal plug with two attachments—a wired remote and a hose with a bulb on the end.
A hose? “What is that?” Her heart rate increased. They did anal sex occasionally, but…it’d been a long time. And he didn’t use toys often.
His level gaze met hers, held hers, and said she’d pushed her limits. “I’ll let you know when you can talk…or make noise. Clear, sugar?”
Oh God, he was going to insist on his damn protocols. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
“Good.” Without any more talk, he lubed the anal plug and pressed it firmly in, past her unhappy rings of muscle. It lodged in place with a tiny plop. The slight burn and discomfort was outweighed by the erotic sensation of his callused hands on her body, the determination in his gaze. She was his, to do what he wanted with, and the knowledge filled her. Turned her on.
Completed her.
He picked up the other toy—a tiny rubber triangle with thin straps. “Remember this? Haven’t used it in quite a while.” It was a wearable vibrator called a butterfly. He’d made her wear one the first time he’d taken her.
The air around her seemed hot enough to scorch her skin; perhaps the air-conditioning had failed.
He put the butterfly on her, seated the supple rubber part right over her clit, and turned it on low.
As the tantalizingly faint vibrations hit, she jerked, and her whole lower half rapidly wakened to need. Since he didn’t like her indulging without him, she hadn’t gotten off in an awfully long time.
“Now, let’s have us a little chat.” He smiled and slid a finger inside her.
“Wh-what?”
He adjusted the vibrator so it pulsed against the right side of her clit and stimulated a new area of nerves. “You’re unhappy. Stressed. Not eating. I’m worried, darlin’.” With his other hand, he cupped her breast. “Are you having nightmares about Kyler again?”
His gaze roamed her face, her shoulders, her arms, reading her in his dangerously skillful way. From the stern set of his jaw, she couldn’t evade his questions this time.
“The nightmares have mostly died down. Now you’re home, I’m sure they’ll go away completely.” Her lips quivered as guilt raised its ugly head. “I’m sorry to be so…so needy. I didn’t realize I’d have trouble with you gone, and—”
He snorted. “I don’t sleep good without you either, sugar. If you told me you did fine without me, I’d be pissed.”
“Really?” Her hands unclenched. He slept better if she was with him. That had to be one of the nicest compliments she’d ever received.
“You like hearing I need you, yeah?” His deep masculine chuckle let her relax…and then he slid two fingers inside her, filling her, and bringing her right back to need. To serious, serious need.
“Master,” she whispered. Her hips wiggled uncontrollably.
He lightly slapped her inner thigh. “Don’t move, subbie.”
The sting sank down, past her skin, sending an erotic burn right into her core, and his merciless order sent desire singing through her veins.
Slowly, he rotated his hand, and his expert fingers rubbed so firmly on her G-spot that her toes curled. “Fuck, I love your cunt.” His voice got lower. “I’m home now, and you’re still looking off. What’s eatin’ at you, sugar?”
She tried to think through the fog of arousal. Answer him? But this was their special time, the first time they made love after being so long apart, and she didn’t want to ruin it for him. If she told him about losing any chance for a child, he’d be unhappy. Hurt. But he wouldn’t accept a “nothing is wrong.”
However, she could give him something else and still be truthful. “Connor and Grant went home with their mother yesterday.”
“Oh hell. I’m sorry, baby. I’ll miss them too. It’s not good how fucked-up their home life is.” He’d met their mother a couple of times and commented later on the telltale signs of a meth user—the emaciation, the rotten teeth, and the way she appeared a decade older than she was.
“Maybe it will improve. Drusilla might stay off the drugs, and Jermaine took an anger management class.” She offered up the hopes, not certain she believed them.
The hard line of his mouth rejected the easy answer. “I think we should wander by and check, don’t you?”
God, she loved him. “I’d planned to wait a day or so and stop in. They…” Her voice faded away when his face went still.
“Before you knew I was back?”
“Uh…”
“Uh?” He growled. “You know my thoughts on unescorted visits to abusive assholes.”
She had no answer; she did know. Oops.
His face softened. Bracing himself on his good arm, he bent and nuzzled her temple and cheek before kissing her ever so gently. He lifted his head an inch, his gaze penetrating. “Is their leaving the only thing bothering you?”
When she flinched, she knew she’d incriminated herself.
“I figured. Give me the rest, sugar, before we move on to other things.”
“It’s nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.” Not now. Not when she’d end up crying. He deserved better from her than a sobbing hot mess.
“Not the answer I was hoping for.” His dark brows pulled together, his lips tightened, and his unreadable gaze sent her right into worry mode. Oh, she was in trouble. Without speaking, he flipped the anal plug switch.
The low vibrations from the anal plug and the ones over her clit met low in her core. The not-quite-enough pulses were enough to drive her crazy…and his questions flew right out of her head.
As she lifted her head, planning to beg, he undid his jeans and released his cock. He was so, so gorgeous. The opened jeans revealed the flat muscle of his lower abdomen. His shaft was so much like him—purely solid and powerful.
He set the head against her entrance and pressed in…one inch.
Oooh, the feeling. The promise of more made her hips squirm and earned her another light slap and growl. She grew even wetter.
But he didn’t mov
e. His gaze moved over her, dark and hot and…mercilessly determined.
“Sir. Master. My beloved Liege,” she whispered, trying…trying not to move as the vibrations drove her up and up. She wanted him inside. “Please.”
“Easy enough to fix, sugar. Just be honest with me.”
Honest. Her breathing turned ragged. Her legs trembled and strained against the unyielding cuffs. He hated lies—and evasions. But to tell him now—would hurt him. Would wreck this coming together. What could she say? Frustration and need kept derailing her thoughts.
Like clouds heralding a storm, worry was followed by darker sorrow, even as her body sent zaps of needy lightning through her. She couldn’t think. “If I tell you…” A tear escaped. She needed him, his arms around her, him deep within her—their special togetherness. Talking would ruin it.
“You will tell me.” The determination was there in his voice.
He didn’t understand. “I need to be with you first. Please…I need this…you and me, first.” She closed her eyes, unable to think. “If I promise to explain after, can we…”
“Look at me.”
Her gaze met his dark, steady eyes.
“I get it. We’ve been apart a long time.” He touched her cheek. “Afterward, while you’re in my arms, you’ll tell me everything.”
“Yes.” A sigh escaped her. He’d never want to be shielded. Even if it hurt him, he’d want to know. “Yes, Master.”
His hard lips curved in approval and satisfaction. “Good girl.” His cock pressed in, not brutally, but steadily, filling her wonderfully full. Thick pleasure flowed up her center in a long, sweet stream.
But he kept going. Too much. It’d been too long. Her legs jerked in protest. With a whimper, she pulled at the wrist restraints—uselessly.
He slowed only a little. “Take me, Beth,” he said gently…ruthlessly…for he knew exactly how much she could take. Knew her strengths, her weaknesses.
And he still loved her.
Her body surrendered, giving up the instinctive need to fight, and he thrust in until his warm thighs pressed against her buttocks.
Protecting His Own (Masters of the Shadowlands Book 11) Page 5