Safeword Interrupted (The Cattail Club Book 1)

by Trace, Dakota

  “Son of a….Sir!” Bethany bucked for a minute as the plug began to vibrate inside her. Not wanting to bring her off - at least not just yet, he counted to five then flipped the switch off.

  “You’re an asshole, Sir.” Bethany panted.

  “She’s just now realizing this?” Tim shook his head.

  “Obviously.” He tossed the remote to Tim. “Have fun.”

  Tim caught the device. “Are you sure?”

  Deacon nodded. “Just don’t bring her off until I say so.”

  “Sir?” Bethany groaned, as Tim flicked on the plug again, then shut it off.

  His friend shrugged. “I was just checking out the controls.”

  He shook his head and turned back to the bound woman in front of them. She was looking at Tim with dread. Realizing she needed reassurance, he crouched down next to her. “Do you trust me to not push you past your limits, Bethany?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her answer was anything but hesitant. “Even if you are an asshole.”

  He chuckled. “That I am.” He straightened. “And this asshole needs to punish his sub. For your earlier disobedience, you’ll receive five strokes.” He stepped back and gazed at his target – her lush ass. “Count off.”

  The first impact of leather against her skin made a soft popping noise, followed by Bethany’s voice – strong and sure as she gave him the count. “One, Sir.”

  Aiming the flogger as a slightly different angle, he laid the lashes a half inch lower than the first hit. Bright red, the welt was nearly perfect in its spacing from the first.

  “Two, Sir.”

  The third blow landed about the first two, this time at a forty-degree angle.

  A hint of pain bled through her voice. “Three, Sir.”

  “Two more, Bethany. You can handle it.” The last two were always the hardest for his little sub. She craved the pain of punishment but at the same time loathed it. He caught Tim’s eye. “Hit it after the last fall.”

  Tim nodded, his thumb rubbing over the surface of the remote.

  In quick succession, he landed two more blows, one on each leg, where they met her ass. She hissed, and barely managed to get the count out before Tim activated the plug once more. The unexpected vibration had her sobbing, her hips rocking in desperation, as she rode the edge of release.

  She collapsed back to the horse when Tim shut off the plug. Moving closer, Deacon ran a hand down her trembling back.

  “Good girl. Punishment is over.” He pressed a kiss to her parted lips. “Now it’s time for fun.”

  * * * *

  Bethany whimpered under the fall of the flogger’s soft lashes as her Sir continued to flog her. Unlike his earlier punishment, this flogging was of the pleasurable type. Meant to tease while heating her skin, Deacon danced the leather across her entire back, warming her even as he drove her crazy with lust.

  But not as crazy as the asshole with the remote. When she got free, she was going to take it and cram it up Tim’s ass. She should’ve realized the bartender had this sadistic dominating streak. He handled both the bouncers and the patrons of the bar with ease, no matter how much alcohol they’d consumed. The only man she’d ever seen him back down from was Deacon. At first she’d thought it was because Deacon was the owner, but seeing both men in this setting, she realized that it was because Deacon was Tim’s mentor.

  She gritted her teeth as the plug flared to life once more, this time rhythmically pulsating against the tight confines of her rectum. The bursts of vibration seemed to penetrate the wall between her pussy and ass – making her even more desperate to come.

  “Damn, that’s beautiful.” Tim clicked off the plug and moved closer to examine Deacon’s handiwork. Bethany could only imagine what her back looked like.

  “Yes, it is.” Deacon’s tone was hoarse – a sure sign that he was beyond aroused. Would she even make it out of the club without being fucked? Her aching pussy hoped not, despite her initial unease at being the center of attention in the club.

  “In fact, I think I need a closer inspection.” Deacon’s voice seemed closer. She whimpered when two fingers suddenly thrust deep inside her pussy. “Oh yeah, she’s wet.”

  She greedily clamped down on them, wanting to keep them deep inside her. She cried out in pleasure as he worked them deeper, before pulling them completely free. She could hear the wet slurp as he licked her juices off. “Sir!”

  “Oh yeah, more than ready to be fucked.” He made a quick adjustment to the horse, and she suddenly found her ass against the impressive erection straining the front of his jeans.

  She yanked on her restraints as the orgasm she’d been trying to delay surged hard against her fraying control. Then the plug flared to life once more. She stretched, her lower pelvis aflame with the need to come, and began to fall head first into the dark place where nothing more than her and Deacon existed. Call it sub-space, release, whatever…it didn’t change the fact she craved it more than her next breath.

  “Hold it.” She barely heard the rasp of his zipper, before his hand wrapped around her ponytail. “Hold it, you little slut. Let me get in you first.” He jerked her head back, sinking his fingers deep into her hair, causing her torso to elongate as he sank deep inside her pussy. She sobbed, her mind reeling as she struggled to accept the intense pleasure of having both holes filled. She hung on by her fingertips, the release she desperately wanted just waiting to consume her whole being. But hold it she did – waiting for his words.

  Then he ground his pelvis against hers, in a counter-clockwise motion, sending his cock careening off every inch of her sheath. “Come, bitch. Soak my cock.”

  “Sir!” She fell headfirst into the abyss, barely aware of his low curses as he pounded against her ass, or the spewing wetness as he filled her full of seed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “So when are you going to tell him?” Deborah Willis asked from the open bathroom door. Kneeling in front of the toilet with her back to Deacon’s mom, Bethany swallowed hard as her stomach did another hard roll. At loose ends while Deacon visited with his uncle-mentor, she decided to pay his mother a visit. Too bad her stomach couldn’t get onboard. Was it really too much to ask that what remained of her breakfast would stay down? She was so tired of being nauseous morning, noon, and night. She opened her mouth to reply when another round of vomiting hit her.

  When the spasms finally eased, she gratefully took the warm washcloth from Deborah’s hand. She wiped her mouth and leaned her forehead against the cool porcelain. In the past month since she’d debuted at the club, she’d been sick more often than not. Scared to accept the truth she blamed the nausea on stress, on the flu virus, even on the changes in the weather. Anything but the truth. Much like an ostrich, she’d stuck her head in the sand and even refused to entertain the idea she might be pregnant. Then she’d missed her period last week.

  “Here.” A small bottle of mouthwash appeared next. “Pull yourself together, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”

  Bethany nodded, then watched as the older woman left. What the hell was she going to do? If Deborah suspected, it wouldn’t be long before her astute son did as well. It had been a miracle that he hadn’t already. Pushing to her feet, she managed to stand with the help of the vanity next to the toilet.

  “Shit.” She clung to the sink as she tried to imagine Deacon’s reaction to her pregnancy. But as much as she loved him, she couldn’t help but have a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “He’s not ready – fuck, I’m not ready either.” It was the truth, she realized. She wanted more time with her master before becoming a mother.

  Before I have to fight the uphill battle, the almost impossible struggle I’ll have convincing the stubborn man that he’ll be a great dad.

  She grimaced at the burn of the minty mouthwash, before swishing her mouth and spitting in the sink. She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror and sighed. With dark circles under her eyes, and the distinctive green around the gills look, her reflectio
n looked like death warmed over. It was good that LeRoy’s rehab was taking up so much of Deacon’s time. If they’d spent more than a few hours together outside the bar each week, he’d have taken her to the doctor, and demanded in no uncertain terms to know what was wrong with her.

  After washing her hands, she reluctantly joined Deborah in the kitchen. Deacon’s mom, despite the cancer trying to ravish her, still managed to look good for her sixty odd years, stood in front of the oven, sliding in a tray of her cinnamon rolls. She straightened up, her smile welcoming. Fussing with the scarf over her almost bald head from the chemo, Deborah nodded toward the table. “Go have a seat, young lady. I’ve got tea and crackers for you.”

  Bethany chewed on her lower lip but obeyed. She sank down onto one of the padded benches of the breakfast nook. Moments later, Deborah placed a cup of steaming tea in front of her, along with a plate of unsalted crackers.

  “Here try these. My mother’s ginger root tea with a few crackers always seemed to settle my stomach while I was carrying Deacon and Steve.”

  Hesitantly she reached for heavy ceramic mug as her stomach rolled again. She paused and swallowed hard. “I don’t think this is gonna work, Deborah.”

  Deborah patted her hand before sliding onto the bench across from her. “Give it a minute. Inhale the steam. I promise it will help settle your tummy.”

  “Okay, I’ll try.” She took a tentative sniff. At first, she didn’t smell much more than the lemon floating on the top of the steaming liquid, but then another scent, one that seemed to calm her stomach, bled through. It actually smelled great, and when her stomach settled down and didn’t try to heave, she took a small sip. Slightly spicy from the ginger, but sweet from the honey, the tea slid down her throat warming her from the inside out. She waited a moment, then gave a sigh of relief when the nausea began to fade. She took another sip.

  “Good, isn’t it?” Deborah leaned back against the bench. “I lived on it the first four months of my pregnancy. Before you leave, I’ll write down the recipe for you.”

  She set down the cup and reached for a cracker. “Thank you.”

  Deborah chuckled. “Don’t be thanking me yet, sweetheart. You never did answer me. When are you going to tell my son that he’s gonna be a father? I’d say the sooner the better. That way you can get a handle on him before the baby is born. After all, it’s gonna take some doing to get a ring on your finger.”

  Bethany froze. “What do you mean?”

  Deborah sighed. “After that mess with Amanda, Deacon swore off marriage. I won’t go into particulars – that’s Deacon’s tale to tell, but you need to realize you’re gonna have to do more than play at that submissive crap of his, to get his ring on your finger.”

  Shock rolled through Bethany. Did Deborah honestly think that what she and Deacon did was a game? She could still remember the sting of his belt from the last time she’d even inferred that what they had was a delightful playtime, but nothing more. The bond between a Dom and his submissive went much deeper than any wedding ring – or so Deacon had told her, as he’d thoroughly spanked her ass.

  “Excuse me?”

  Deborah cocked her head. “Don’t give me that look, child. I may be a tired old woman, but I know my boys. Deacon goes to that damned BDSM club to pretend he has control of his life, while Steve constantly tries to please everyone. It all roots from the same damned issue. Carson Witshall did more than fuck me over when he decided fatherhood wasn’t for him. If the man weren’t dead, I’d kick his ass for giving my boys abandonment issues. Both those boys need to find a good woman and settle down.” Deborah placed her hand over Bethany’s. “You’re good for Deacon, Bethany, but giving him free milk isn’t going to keep him around when the going gets tough. A wedding ring will. It’s a commitment.”

  Bethany could see Deborah’s point, but was beyond irritated that the woman thought marriage was the answer. “No, it will only make him miserable. If I’m indeed pregnant, I’m not going to compound one mistake with another by forcing your son into a situation where he’ll be truly unhappy.” She freed her hand and slid off the bench. “Thanks for the tea.”

  She was almost at the door, when Deborah called to her.

  “Either you tell him, or I will, young lady. I won’t have my grandchild go through what my sons went through.”

  Anger surged forward. How dare the woman threaten her! She and Deacon were nothing like Deacon’s father. Even if they didn’t stay together, Deacon would never abandon his child. She counted to ten, but at three, said screw it and stalked back to the table.

  “Listen to me, and listen to me good. If there is a child, that is between Deacon and me. What we decide to do will be our decision - and you’ll have no say in it. I may love your son, but I refuse to let you manipulate either of us into a situation that we’ll both be unhappy. I’ll leave first.” She leaned over the table. “Think long and hard about that, Deborah. Either let me handle it in my own way…in my own time, or risk losing access to your grandchild.”

  Tears of anger and frustration built in her eyes as she stormed out of the kitchen and got into her car. As she started the engine, she rubbed her hand over her flat stomach. Could there actually be a baby in there?

  “Well, there’s only one way to find out.” She pulled out of the driveway and pointed her car toward Cedar Rapids. A trip to the Planned Parenthood would not only keep her possible pregnancy anonymous, but the hour drive would give her time to think. What the hell was she gonna do if she was? And how would her Sir react to the news?

  * * * *

  “So what do you think?” Deacon asked his uncle. They’d just finished their two-mile walk – as part of his rehab, Deacon was determined to get his uncle back into shape. The twenty extra pounds LeRoy had put on in the past year hadn’t been the sole contributor to his heart attack, but it sure hadn’t helped either.

  Sitting at the table, in just a pair of shorts with his salt and pepper hair wet from his brief shower, LeRoy reached for the velvet jeweler’s box sitting in the middle of the table. His brows went up as he gazed at its contents. Nestled inside was a simple engagement band with a fiery opal. The vivid colors captured within the stone reminded him of Bethany the first time he’d seen it.

  “I’d have to say I didn’t think I’d ever see the day you’d decide to give marriage another go-round. Especially after the hell Amanda put you through.”

  Deacon grinned sheepishly. “Bethany is different. She hasn’t pushed for marriage, nor has she even asked to move in with me.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not saying we’re going to go out and tie the knot this second, but I thought maybe in a year or two we’ll make the trip down the aisle. I just want her to have more than my collar.”

  LeRoy leaned back in his chair. “Does this have something to do with the slick fellow that bought the Old Cartwright place?”

  Deacon’s face flushed. At the beginning of summer, Chet Sorenson had driven into town in his fancy Escalade wearing a megawatt smile – charming women from one end of the town to the other. But he’d taken a special shine to Bethany – hanging out the bar to discuss the old days. It seemed that his little submissive had gone to college with the richer than sin entrepreneur. While she was devoted to their relationship as always, for the first time in his life the green-eyed monster called jealousy had reared its ugly head. “Maybe. I just want everyone to know she’s mine.”

  His uncle sighed. “That’s no reason to get married, boy.”

  “I know. It’s just she’s so…” Deacon struggled with how to explain that Bethany was fast becoming his entire world – to the point he found himself unable to sleep without her at his side. “….look, it will kill me if I lose her to some rich playboy. I’ve never felt like this before. She drives me crazy with lust when she defies me, but melts me when she finally gives over.” He raked his hands through his hair. “Christ, not even Amanda stirred me up like this.”

  LeRoy drummed his fingers on the table, his silver
eyes shrewd. “Of course not. But then you weren’t in love with her.”

  Deacon frowned. “I asked her to marry me…”

  His uncle shook head. “You were infatuated with the idea of having a full time sub and maybe starting a family. And I will admit Amanda played the part well. She even had me fooled, until Bethany caught wind of her rendezvouses in Cedar Rapids with her married lover. She gave Amanda a choice, either break her engagement with you, or she’d rat her out.”

  “What? Amanda told me that she had second thoughts and couldn’t see submitting for the rest of her life. That she couldn’t handle my physical demands.”

  To the point, she had an abortion, so she wouldn’t have any ties to me – if the child was even mine.

  His blood ran cold at the memory of finding a discarded bill from an abortion clinic in Cedar Rapids. But it didn’t sting near as much as the thought that Bethany had kept a secret from him. “Damnit, I’m gonna warm her little ass.”

  LeRoy sighed. “Shit, Bethany never said anything, did she?”

  He shook his head. “No, she never said a word to me.” Anger began brewing in his stomach. How dare she keep this a secret? If Amanda had truly been fucking around on him, he could’ve caught something from her.

  “Before you go off half-cocked, Deacon, think about what it would’ve done to your relationship with Bethany if she’d accused your fiancée of sleeping around? Would you still have ended up as lovers, let alone friends? Or would you have cut her from your life for insulting the woman you were committing to?”

  His anger deflated. His uncle had a valid point. He’d been so infatuated with Amanda – with the idea of having a family, he would’ve cut Bethany out of his life, and wouldn’t have realized until it was much too late that he’d fucked up. Nor would he have ever had a chance to find out how perfectly Bethany fit him – in and out of the bedroom. “Shit.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “You’re probably right. I’d have lost my best friend – over a woman who had morals of an alley cat. But it still pisses me off that she didn’t tell me.”