“Because we’re fuck ups. Because we’re afraid of everything that might go wrong.”
He gave me a sideways look. “I hate being afraid.”
“I hate it too. It’s exhausting. We need to fucking change.”
The car stopped at a light. People bustled through the crosswalk, lugging Saturday shopping bags and shouldering for space. The city was busy, always busy, but inside the car, time seemed suspended. Change was scary, but living without one another was so much scarier. I prayed he was brave enough to change for me, to at least try. I was brave enough. The fighter inside me was stirring to life.
“Can you change?” I prompted. “Can you let the fears go? I know I’ll have to do it, too. But I will, for you.”
He didn’t answer. He stared instead at my hand over his. Take my hand. Hold my hand. Please, try, for us.
He stirred suddenly, like he was coming out of a trance, then looked at me with his brows drawn together. “For a couple months now, I’ve been designing this bridge. It’s not like anything I’ve done before. It’s simple and spare, because of you. Because you showed me that that could be beautiful.” His eyes burned me with their intensity. “I didn’t think there’d be a way to do it, but I figured it out and showed it to everyone. No one liked it at first, but I kept trying to make them see. I kept trying. I made it work.”
I swallowed past the emotion in my throat. “And did they see?”
“Yes. I told you, there’s always a way.”
I held up a finger. “No, I told you there was always a way. Remember? I put that sign in my window.”
“I remember,” he said.
“Because you were fucking up again.”
“I’m pretty sure you were fucking up too.”
He finally laced his fingers through mine, and brought my hand to his lips. They felt warm and firm. How many times had I kissed those lips?
“I know we can work,” he said. “There’s always a way. There has to be a way for us, because it’s important. I’ll change the way I act, to make things better. I’ll adjust.”
His words unsettled me. I knew we needed to work together to fix things, but I didn’t want the essence of Price to go away. I needed his commanding personality, his dominance and requirements. “I don’t want you to change too much,” I said. “I still want you to be you.”
“I’ll still be me, but you need to tell me what you need. You’re part of this too.”
“You know what I need. You’ve always known.”
“Jesus,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “There’s nothing more frustrating than trying to communicate with a submissive.”
“But you know,” I argued. “You know the good parts of our relationship, and the parts that didn’t work. I want the things that were good. The passion. The sex and drama. The dungeon, and the kisses afterward in your arms. The poetry.”
“The poetry.” He made an impatient gesture. “It’s not enough, for all you do for me.”
“You’re enough for me, just as you are. Well, slightly changed. Minus the fears and jealousy.”
He shook his head and gave a rough laugh. “I can’t believe I’m enough for you.”
“Believe it.”
“My poems don’t even rhyme.”
“Poems don’t have to rhyme to be beautiful.”
Look at what you do for me, I thought. You’re so beautiful.
He let out a slow breath. “You know, I only ever wrote poems for you. You’re the only one.”
“I know.”
He was so fucked up, this freakishly handsome, lonely, neglected, rich boy who’d never known love. All his grand bridges and skyscrapers weren’t enough to make him feel worthy of one ghetto-bred ex-hooker.
“I love your poems,” I said, “but I don’t want the taunt of you anymore. The mystery. The distance. I want you, Price. Let me in. I’ll be your slave forever, but I need you to be with me too. Do you know what I mean?” I let go of his hand and spread my fingers against his chest. “Be with me. Give me your heart, all of it, without fear and suspicion. I won’t hurt you. I won’t leave you.” I grabbed his face and made him look at me. “I love you.”
He gazed into my eyes and put his hands over mine. “You left me,” he said.
“You left me too, damn it. But we’re going to change. We’re not going to leave each other anymore. We’re going to find a fucking way.”
He stared at me as he squeezed my fingers. “Does that mean you’re coming back to me?”
That was the big question, but it was hardly a question. I was almost sitting in his lap. “Do you want me back?” I asked. “You told me to get out of your fucking life.”
“I was a little upset when I said that. If I ever say that again, just ignore me because I don’t mean it. You belong with me.” He let go of my hands to grab my neck. “Come back to me, starshine. When you’re ready, I want you to come back. We’ll fix everything. We’ll make everything better.”
He put his thumb against my pulse, and I felt it in the beat of my heart.
Chapter Sixteen: Beautiful
There were tons of people in the Gramercy Park lobby when Chere and I returned, and more people in the elevator. I wanted all of them gone. Coming back to this hotel—to that room—was difficult enough for me. I’d made so many mistakes. But white tulips were a symbol of forgiveness and new beginnings, and Chere was letting me come upstairs.
I stared at her stubborn little chin in the elevator, and her lovely, elegant neck, so perfect to choke or caress. I loved her. I needed her, and she’d agreed to give our relationship another chance. Something had to change, and it would. I’d figure out what I needed to do to make her happy, and come as close as I could to that. Poems don’t have to rhyme to be beautiful, she’d said. And love didn’t have to be perfect.
You just had to find a way to make it work.
I followed her down the hall to the room. I wasn’t sure what she wanted. I wasn’t sure if she was ready to come home yet, or if she wanted to talk some more, or if she wanted to fuck. I felt stripped naked from our conversation in the car, and now I was terrified of doing something wrong and causing her to lose hope in us after all.
When she stopped outside the door, I stopped too, and waited. We were like two teenagers after a first date, unsure whether it was okay to kiss. “I haven’t kissed you yet,” I said. “I want to kiss you.”
“You can do that. But first we should go inside.”
She flipped her key over in her palm, then slid it into the door. The lock clicked and she went in, but I stayed where I was. “If you let me in...”
“I know.”
“I’ll do terrible things to you. Rough, uncontrolled things.”
“That’s kind of what I was hoping.”
She stood back and let me through the door, and shut it behind us. We were alone together for the first time in over a week, and I wanted everything, every violent and carnal thing.
No. Wait. I forced myself to be still. I didn’t want to take her in a frenzy, so it was over before we realized what was happening. I wanted this reunion to be slow and deliberate, so it would last. I wanted to remember everything, and also rediscover everything. My fingers trembled at the waist of her skirt. I wondered if she had panties on, or if she was still following my rules. I jammed my hand down beneath the material and discovered warm, bare skin.
Good girl, I thought, but the word that came out of my mouth was “Mine.”
“Yes,” she whispered, leaning into me. “I’ve been yours for years now.”
I slipped my hands under her sweater and traced over her ribs and spine. I flicked open her bra, and then I pulled everything off because I needed her naked. So much for going slow. I tugged down her skirt and she kicked it off, along with her shoes. I looked at her for a second, and then I was on her, biting, devouring, kissing every beautiful curve. She pulled at my coat and sweater, and I yanked them off so we could be skin to skin.
“It’s okay to hurt me,” she whisp
ered as I twisted fingers in her hair. “I still want you to hurt me.”
She wanted recapture. She wanted to submit and kneel before me. I would have given anything for a handful of zip ties. Instead I used my belt to circle her wrists behind her back, and then held her against me to fasten the buckle at the front of her waist. She struggled to free her arms just as she had the first day. Just as she probably always would, which was okay, because it made me want her that much more.
I threw her onto the bed and stripped off my pants, leaving them in a heap on the floor. My cock was hard as fuck. I couldn’t wait to get inside her and make her hurt the way she wanted. When she tried to turn to me, I flipped her back over and knelt between her legs. It was so tempting to try to get into her ass, but I didn’t have lube, or even a condom to ease the way.
Soon. Later. Maybe tonight.
For now, I pulled her hips up and forced her thighs open. She moaned and buried her head in the sheets, then arched up again as I landed a few sharp slaps on her ass.
“Are you ready? Do you want me?”
“Yes, Sir, please!”
I squeezed her breasts and shoved my aching cock into her pussy. She shuddered as I drove deep, making her mine again. Jesus fuck, the sensation. The tightness. After all the longing and loneliness, it felt almost too good to be inside her. Go slow. Appreciate all the sexy, wonderful things about her.
It had been so long since we’d simply fucked, without cages or manacles or all the other shit I kept in the dungeon. Her body was just as beautiful on a bed as it was on a rack or a spanking bench. I yanked her hair hard so I could feel the tension in her pussy. After that, my fingertips searched for her nipples, because when I pinched and twisted them, she always reacted with her hips.
“Hurt me,” she begged.
I growled and fucked her deeper, and slapped her ass hard enough to leave a bright red hand print. Soon there was a whole lattice of them, as I delivered noisy blows to the symphony of her cries. We might change in some ways during the days and months ahead, but this would always stay the same. She’d always have marks on her ass, because pain made her hotter and wetter than anything else I could do. Her juices were drowning my dick.
“You want to be hurt?” I asked.
Fuck. Fuck. Sometimes only one kind of hurt would do. I was going to take her ass after all, with some spit and pussy juice, because she needed it, and I wanted it.
“I’m going to stick it in your ass,” I said roughly. “Don’t fucking try to stop me.”
She made a sound that wasn’t yes or no, just the sound of someone being fucked so hard and so deep that she was pretty much up for anything. I pulled out and made her turn so she was on her back, and then shoved her legs up over my shoulders. She met my gaze with gorgeous dread as I spread her pussy lips and fingerfucked the hell out of her.
“You’re so fucking wet,” I said, shoving the moisture down toward her hole. “But I think it’s still going to hurt you.”
She squirmed then, until I clapped my hands over her thighs to still her. I lubed up my cock with more pussy juice and then spit on her asshole to turn her on.
“Please go slow,” she said as I probed her tiny hole with my dick.
“Please shut the fuck up. You said you wanted to be hurt.”
“Since when do you do what I say?” she sassed.
I put my hand over her mouth. “No more words. Pretend we’re in the dungeon. No talking.”
That got her hotter still. She loved when I took her speech away. Someday I’d do the eye contact thing too, and not allow her to look at me. It would be like the first day, with the mask, only this would be hotter, because she wouldn’t be terrified for her life the way she’d been at the W Hotel.
But I wanted her eye contact today. She looked wonderfully scared and horny, with her arms bound and her legs spread. I pressed into her ass, using her own moisture as lube. It wasn’t really enough to make things easy, but it was enough to get in. Her breath came in sharp, frantic pants as I stretched her asshole open. Oh, I was being very slow and deliberate now.
I held her gaze as I eased my way in, insisting that she open her eyes whenever she tried to close them from the pain. That was why I’d turned her over, so I could see the agony and ecstasy in real time, and of course, so I didn’t really hurt her any more than she wanted to be hurt. I was halfway in, and she was still struggling against me. I leaned on one hand and wrapped the other around her neck.
“Let go,” I said. “Let me do what I want.” I released her for a moment to slap her, then I grabbed her neck harder, digging my fingers into her skin. I could see the tumble into subspace, the helpless submission to my force and will. She made a sobbing sound in her throat, and she wasn’t asking me to stop. She was asking me to go harder.
I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “You don’t know a thing about self-preservation. Now give up your fucking asshole. This isn’t over until I get what I want.”
My fingers tightened on her windpipe. Her cheek was pink where I’d slapped it.
“Look at me,” I ordered when she started to go woozy. I let her breathe a little as I eased the rest of the way into her ass. She arched and pushed against my cock, and I had to steel myself not to go off right then. It felt delicious, this conquering. Her surrender. One required the other, which was why I’d treasure her forever. I stared down at my cock buried in her spasming hole. Wetness still seeped down her crack, because, by some miracle, this turned her on.
“I bet this feels awful,” I taunted her. “I bet it feels scary and dangerous.”
She moaned in response, and opened her mouth even though no words came out. I massaged her neck and she lengthened it, as if inviting me to have her breath if I wanted it. Fuck me, I wanted it. I gave her a hard, forceful, riotous kiss as I started to move in her ass. Now that the entry was accomplished, there were plenty of slippery juices to keep us going. Her moans drove me mad.
“Look at me,” I said. “Don’t take your eyes off me.”
I slapped her a couple more times to get my point across, then I kissed her again. She pressed her hips toward mine, shuddering every time I bottomed out inside her. Her non-verbal exclamations fell somewhere between ow and yes, which summed up the magic of our relationship, and the reason we needed to be together.
“You’re mine.” I stared into her depthless brown eyes and made her believe it. “You’ll always be mine, in this. In everything.”
Oh, God. She was using her bound hands to pull apart her ass cheeks, to offer me that much more of herself. And she is Lust... Mine also, little painted poem of God.
I rewarded this groveling submission with more fingers on her windpipe. This time, I didn’t stop to give her breath. She knew by now when I was putting her out. She usually resisted or at least made some small, pleading sound, but this time she held my gaze in utter trust, in fearless, abject surrender. I didn’t want her to go. I wanted to hold that yielding gaze and save that moment forever, but physiology worked by certain rules, and a moment later, her body went slack, her eyes closed, and she was gone.
Now I was the one shuddering as I surged inside her. In those fleeting moments before she came to, she was vulnerable, helpless, and entirely mine. Even when she returned to consciousness, her body remained open to me.
“You’re back,” I said, stroking a thumb across her cheek.
Her hazy eyes focused on mine. A moment later, she seemed to remember where she was. She became aware that her hands were still bound, and that she still had a cock buried firmly in her ass.
“Hurt me,” she whispered.
I let the forbidden speech slide, because I liked what she was saying, and because she still wasn’t quite awake. I also did as she requested, torturing her nipples some more as I held off my orgasm, and giving her a few more resounding spanks. Each slap of pain, each excruciating twist and pinch wound her up more. When she was wild with distress and lust, I drove deep inside her ass and held there.
“I want
you to come when I tell you,” I said. “I want to feel you gripping my dick, and I want to hear how good it feels for you. Not yet. Wait for me. When I say.”
I fondled her sex, caressing her clit, tracing over it with all her juices. She was gone in a wonderful way, thrusting and straining at my belt, arching her hips for a harder, deeper invasion.
“Not yet,” I said. “I know you want to come, but you obey me.”
She tried to twist away from my teasing caresses, making frantic noises in her throat.
“Oh, I bet you’re close. Just a moment longer.”
When I thought she might literally expire, I palmed her clit, charmed by the way she bucked up against me. “Come now,” I said. “Remember, I want to feel it. I want to hear it.”
She threw her head back and cried out, kicking her legs through a trembling orgasm. I’d wound her up for my own amusement, but I’d become pretty wound up too, so that when she squeezed around me, the pleasure almost hurt me. I gritted my teeth, not just from the strength of my orgasm, but the fact that I’d reduced her to base animal lust, and she’d surrendered enough to let me do it.
“Fuck,” she said. “Oh, fuck.” She opened her eyes and looked at me, half there and half gone. “May I talk again?”
“Did I say you could talk again?”
She grimaced and squirmed some more, and I kissed her until my dick went soft and she went soft too. Only then did I undo the belt and release her arms. The first thing she did was throw them around my neck.
“Can I talk now?” she asked.
“I wish I had the gag,” I teased. “Your favorite cock gag.” I decided I’d improvise one later, using my own cock. “But yes, okay, starshine. I guess you can talk.”
“I just wanted to say that I love you.” Her lips brushed against my ear. “I missed you. I even missed getting fucked in the ass by you.”
“Because you love getting fucked in the ass,” I said, holding her close.
“I love your roughness. I don’t want that to change.”
I chuckled at her anxious expression. “Based on what just happened, I think we’ll be okay. And you should know that I have a lot of rough and dirty impulses built up inside me. It’s been a week since I’ve had you.”
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