by Lea Griffith
He’d forced her to reconsider. Behind her lids images flashed and she pushed the intense pleasure at her clit to the back of her mind, slowing the images down so she could concentrate on them.
Sam above her, hips thrusting, stomach clenched, head thrown back as he rode her body through a brutal orgasm. Their first sexual encounter, intense and setting the stage for everything that would follow.
Sam walking toward her, dress blues crisp, medals glinting in the sunlight, black eyes fixed on her, pinning her to the spot.
Sam cooking for her, strong hands sure as he created his special salsa, lips curved upward as he laughed at something she said.
She remembered it all and as the furiousness of the vibrator at her clit drove her body mad, her mind found succor in the memories of the man punishing her.
“Zoe!”
His strident voice pulled her from her thoughts.
“Zoe, answer me,” he demanded. “Zoe, open your eyes, baby. Look at me.”
Her eyes snapped open. All of her energy was gone. He’d taken her through at least six or seven intense, mind-shattering orgasms with the Hitachi. It was silent now and she took a deep breath as her legs shook. The chains rattled and sweat was cooling on her skin.
She was so damn tired but his voice tugged at her. How long had he been at her with that fucking thing? She wanted to be angry but knew it was her fault. He’d made it very clear what would happen if she disobeyed. Of course, the year of space between them had left her plenty of room to forget.
“Zoe, talk to me.”
Sam was between her legs, his hard cock nestled so close. Her body was limp and as much as she’d wanted him earlier all she wanted now was to…
“Sleep,” she murmured.
His hands framed her face and she heard a thud as the vibrator hit the floor.
“Let’s leave that down there, okay?” She thought she smiled but between one breath and the next her eyes closed and she was out.
Sam watched her face go lax and dropped his head to her chest. He thought he’d hurt her. Thought he’d broken something in her with the constant stimulation of the Hitachi wand. Sometimes the stimulation could be too much but he’d watched her closely for that.
His hips flexed, his cock recognizing the proximity of its ultimate goal. She had lain there silently for the first two orgasms. As he rocked the heavy-duty vibrator against her pussy, she’d resisted his command to give over. Her eyes had glazed and gone black after the fourth. Her mouth had opened on the fifth and she’d cursed him.
Sam smiled. She was everything he wanted and nothing he deserved. So much of this thing between them was for him. Zoe hadn’t realized she had submissive tendencies until he’d pulled it out of her. She loved it but Sam recognized a lot of her pleasure came from what she did for him.
He sighed and pulled himself away from the lure of her body. She needed to rest and it was Sam’s honor to make sure she did it easily. He padded to the bathroom and wet a cloth in warm water, pulling a plush towel from the holder by the sink.
He unchained her arms and legs and washed her down with the rag, carefully smoothing it over her skin to remove the sweat before he ran it over her pussy and bottom. He followed that with strokes of the softer-than-air towel and once he was finished her picked her up and tucked her under the covers.
He caressed the diamonds at her throat and his own went bone-dry. As she’d come again and again, they had twinkled in the low glow thrown by the hall light and the exquisiteness of Zoe in her pleasure had replaced some of the ugliness from his time in Africa. He traced down to a breast, circling the tightening nipple. He could wake her and she’d give herself to him but the fact that she never stirred as he dragged a finger over her flesh told him everything.
Sam pulled away reluctantly but left the chains in the loops—they might need them later. He didn’t know how long she’d sleep but he needed a shower and he had a call to make.
He showered and pulled on a pair of sweats from the bottom drawer of the wardrobe. Sam made his call and waited for the headlights that signaled the arrival of their meal. Within thirty minutes it was there and he set up the small dining area with candles, a single plate and a single glass.
He decided he’d give her another thirty minutes of sleep before he woke her. He placed the food in the oven on warm and drifted around the apartment. She’d gotten new living room furniture. Sam wondered why. The last couch had served them pretty well the weekend before he’d left.
He rubbed his chest, the ache there spreading soul-deep. Had she given up? Decided to remove things from her life that reminded her of him?
Normally the place was covered in photos of them together. There were no pictures on the wall now and it worried him. In fact the place looked pretty damn clean, almost barren. Was she moving?
Impatience stirred under his skin and he found himself in the bedroom watching her sleep. Her bow mouth was slightly open, one hand curved under her cheek. Blonde hair was everywhere and Sam smiled.
Soon. Soon.
Her legs shifted under the silk duvet and her awareness filtered through the air. His groin tightened in anticipation. He couldn’t wait any longer.
“Zoe, sit up.” Sam infused just enough command into his words to ensure she knew he wasn’t playing.
She obeyed and his heart knocked against his ribs. Zoe kept her gaze down as she moved her legs off the side of the bed. He wanted to praise her but instead pulled the blindfold from the nightstand.
Slowly, Sam stepped close to her. Her chest rose and fell. She inhaled deeply but he barely heard it. He covered her eyes with the scrap of one of his old black T-shirts they’d cut for just this purpose. She’d asked over a year ago if they could use it because it smelled like him.
He’d allowed it.
Her jaw clenched and he couldn’t control the impulse to lick along the delicate line of her face, biting her chin simply to feel her draw a sudden breath.
“Stand. Grab my waistband and follow me.”
She did as he ordered and he relocated them to the living room, stopping abruptly near the sofa. Sam turned to her and just stared, soaking up the way the moonlight caressed her naked body.
“You want something, don’t you? I can feel the question on your lips. Tell me what you want and if it pleases me I’ll give it to you.”
She cocked her head but didn’t lick her lips. Good girl. She knew what licking her lips did to him. It was the reason he forbade it—that single action drove Sam crazy with lust. Something about the wetness over her full bottom lip distracted him, made his balls draw up tight.
“I want to feel you, Sir,” she whispered.
His heart wept. “Where do you want to feel me, Zoe?”
“Your face, if I may?”
Sam lifted her hands slowly and placed them on his cheeks. His body trembled at the feel of her soft palms. “What do you feel?”
Her words would push him but he needed this right now. He placed his hands at her hips, knowing he’d leave bruises but keeping them there because he had to have the contact.
Her fingers dug into his cheeks, pressing against his cheekbones before smoothing down his jaw. “You’re so warm, Sir. Scruffy but soft above the beard. What’s this?” she asked as her hand drifted to his jaw near his earlobe. “Ah, a new scar. Knife? Punch? I wish I could have been there to kiss it better.”
He closed his eyes, the pain of her words a scythe to his heart. There were more where that had come from. So many more. He swallowed and it was like forcing sand down his throat.
“And here.” Her voice furrowed into him, relentless. “Another scar above your eyebrow. I think a punch caused that one, yes? I would have slain that dragon for you. Nobody has the right to hurt what belongs to me.”
He bent his head to hers, leaving but a breath between their lips. He growled, unable to voice the emotions that overwhelmed him in that moment.
“Yes, I can see you like the thought.” She chuckled, the husky soun
d wrapping around his balls, stroking. “What is this, Sir? Definitely a knife wound here under your ear. I would lick that scar were you to give me permission but my tongue would take you over, wouldn’t it? And Sam Allmand will never give up control.” She sighed then but continued her exploration.
Her fingertips drifted down his neck, stopping along the corded muscles there, feeling every inch of skin. Then suddenly she moved her touch to his lips. To his disbelief she took one of her fingers and licked it, then ran it along his bottom lip, smiling the entire time. “They were dry, Sir, and needed my moisture.”
His tongue followed it and the taste of her on his lips made him weak.
Her mouth drew down as she came across yet another break in his skin on his cheek. “Punch, definitely. Who hit you, Sir? Will you tell me so that I can hunt them down and repay each one in kind?”
His lips curved upward. She was a bloodthirsty wench. Who knew?
“Oh you smiled. I want to feel it. Can you do it again?”
She placed her left hand on his cheek and her right fingertips over his lips.
“Please, Sam. For me.”
He couldn’t deny her or the impish twist of her mouth and he damn sure wouldn’t correct her use of his name right now. Slowly, he smiled for Zoe.
Her breath drew in sharply and a tear fell to her cheek from beneath the blindfold.
“Beautiful, Sam. I had forgotten what your smile felt like.”
Her voice broke on the last word and Sam couldn’t handle it.
As he splintered inside he took her mouth voraciously, the last year fading away under the taste and warmth of her. She gasped and he swallowed it. She moaned and he ate it like candy. Forcing his tongue into her mouth, he didn’t relent until she met him stroke for stroke, biting at his lips when he would pull away, teeth gnashing as they fought for supremacy.
She hissed and Sam realized he was digging his fingers into her hips.
“I’ll kiss each and every bruise, Zoe. They’re marks of who owns this body,” he said against the soft skin of her neck.
“Again,” she pleaded.
And Sam acceded, unable to master the control he needed, breaking form as surely as she’d broken him by asking for a simple smile. Nothing mattered but the feel of her, the wetness of her mouth on his, the fire that threatened to consume them both. Zoe’s hands dug into his shoulders and he wanted to roar. This was what he’d survived for.
The thought of hell brought him to his senses and he set her from him. “Stop, Zoe. That’s enough.”
She whimpered. His cock flexed. He wanted to hear her make that sound as he tunneled his dick inside her body.
“As of now your permission to speak has been revoked. No sounds, no sighs, no whimpers. Take my hand.”
She reached out tentatively and he took her tiny hand into his big mitt. Chills popped up on her arms.
“Are you cold?”
Silence met his question.
He stepped to her then, meshing his T-shirt-covered chest with her bare one. With his free hand he reached around her body, sliding his hand down a silky globe and finding her wet heat. He used his thumb to lightly stroke over her labia and then delved farther into her cleft, feeling her internal muscles flex and release.
So fucking wet. And hot. So fucking his.
“You’re shivering. Are you sure you aren’t cold?”
More silence. She made him want to go to his knees.
“Oh Zoe, you’re picking the rules back up quickly. I’m proud of you, baby. So proud I’m about to lay you down on this brand-new couch and eat this pussy, my pussy, until you scream and then come around my tongue.”
Chapter Five
Zoe froze like a deer sensing a wolf. The press to sob was heavy. How she held it in she didn’t know. She’d pushed him yet again and though she’d not meant to she would suffer more before he took her. Another tear leaked from her eyes.
They’d been nowhere near this place before. It was like a yawning chasm between them that she longed to bridge but everything she tried ended up with her being punished. Had she not played the game correctly?
What was she doing wrong? Had he returned cruel and unbending—uncaring about her needs?
As soon as she gave the thought life another rose to smash it. Sam was different. Though his duties as a Marine had called him away many times before, he was definitively different from the man who’d left her in the middle of night a year ago. His smile was dark, full of things she didn’t want to touch but couldn’t keep from reaching for.
And the simple truth was he needed her as much as, if not more than, she needed him. And if this was his method of finding his way back to her, she’d deal with whatever she had to.
“Take two steps backward and sit down on this lovely new couch. I would ask why it’s here, what happened to the old one but I think the answer would result in yet more punishment for you. So in the interest of getting exactly what I want right now I’ll shelve that question for later. Much later, after I’ve filled you so full of me you can’t see straight and you’re reminded who you belong to.”
Zoe took in his words and her lip trembled. So much pain. She’d hurt so badly without him that any reminders of what they’d done in this apartment, just how much she’d given of herself to him, had been unbearable.
She sat down on the soft brown leather as he instructed. The feel of the material under her naked ass was insanely seductive. She had to lift up to get positioned but once she was settled she was reclining against the back of the couch, legs spread, labia touching the leather beneath her, warming it.
“Lean back and spread your legs farther.” His voice was gravel over her nerves. “Wider. I want to see that pink pussy against this pretty light-brown leather. I want to see your wetness leaking onto the cushions. I want to smell your musk and this brand-new leather combined. Wider, Zoe.”
She stretched as far as she could and it left her feet hanging over the cushions. She was so hot, so needy. Her clit rebelled at any contact but her internal muscles clenched over and over, desperate for something to hold on to.
“Spread your cunt open, Zoe. I want to see it all.”
The coffee table scraped over the hardwood. He’d moved it, might even now be standing before her. Or he could have gone to his knees. The sound of his voice was muffled by the blood pumping furiously through her veins. She didn’t want to touch herself. She’d had enough of that in the long, dark nights without him.
But in the end she absolutely did as he requested. She couldn’t afford not to.
“Good girl,” he said and then he blew on her.
Yeah, he was close to her now. He flicked her clit with his finger and her abdomen tensed. She was so sensitive there after the Hitachi wand she wondered if she ever wanted anything to touch her clit again.
Yes, you do. His dick.
“You’re sensitive, aren’t you? I would hope you learned your lesson. I can see you right now, holding back your sighs. Your abdomen tightens and your thigh muscles tremble as you struggle to control yourself. I think there’s another lesson for you to learn here.”
Her heart stuttered.
“Yeah, I think you need to learn that you control nothing. I’m the one who controls everything we do—every breath, every sigh, every orgasm. Bottom line, Zoe, is that I control you.”
Silence again. An effective tool with her. She hated the sound of quiet, found herself wanting to fill every void she encountered with some noise. Sam had discovered her weakness and used it as a way to reinforce his demands. And her weakness was his domination. Every single time.
“I’m going to feast on you, drink you in and eat you up until all you know is my tongue in your body. And you’re going to be quiet or I’ll gag you because when you scream—well, we’ve had this discussion, haven’t we? Put your hands on the cushions beside you.”
She did as he commanded, prayed he hurried and got to it. Could she be quiet? She was about to find out.
Th
e first swipe of his tongue along her slit had her nails sinking deep into the brand-new leather sofa. The second swipe ended with his tongue flattening over her nubbin and her nails puncturing the smooth brown material. The third swipe ended with his tongue embedded in her pussy, her muscles contracting so hard she came with a whoosh, unable to keep the air from leaving her mouth.
“You missed me, yeah? Oh Zoe, you didn’t miss me as much as I missed your taste, your smell. Bend your legs and hold them open at the knees. You’ve messed up your pretty brand-new couch. Now it looks like the old one,” he murmured and satisfaction peppered his tone.
A tendril of anger threatened to break through the haze of her orgasm but then he open-mouth kissed her flesh and she was burned to cinder by the flames. In and out he pushed his tongue, sometimes humming over her clit before he’d suck on it, bowing her back and forcing her to leave marks in her own flesh to hold back the screams.
She knew she grunted as he nipped and tugged at her lips and then invaded her with his tongue. Zoe didn’t care. It was too much yet not enough. She wanted to demand his cock—demand he give her everything—but she recognized he would deny her.
There was something she was supposed to give him and as she reached for what it was, it slid past as another orgasm slammed into her, this one more intense than any with the Hitachi wand.
“Such a pretty pussy. So fucking gorgeous, pink and swollen, begging for my dick. Would a finger help?”
She pressed her head against the back cushion, tried to use it as leverage against his onslaught.
He smacked her pussy then and she imploded. She felt the prick of her nails on her thighs, wondered if she was drawing blood. She may have screamed but as with the wand he’d used on her earlier, her mind was gone to anything but the pleasure. Her throat hurt, she’d struggled to hold it in so long.
“I asked you a question. Would a finger help ease that emptiness?”
She shook her head.
“What would?”
Another smack and she groaned loudly.
“Say the word and it will end,” Sam promised her.