by Piper Stone
Her eyelids fluttering, she shuddered then unfastened her jeans before reaching down, tugging at her boots. She took her time, darting glances, her face glistening in the shadowed light. Shimmying, she pushed the jeans down her hips, struggling to pull them off. When she stood in only a thong, she covered her breasts, a flush creeping up from her neck to her cheeks.
“Don’t ever cover yourself. You’re beautiful. So very beautiful, but you will do as I say.” He could hear the raggedness in his voice, the strangled sound because of his tightened throat. This was different. This was… A flash of the past washed across his mind, creating a terrible pain in his gut. Swallowing hard, he refused to deny what he’d needed, a different kind of tethering, a powerful connection. My God, he wanted all of her. He wanted her body and soul, her submission in a way he’d ignored before. He was so alive, blood bumping to the point he had trouble focusing.
“Yes, I will.” Her lower lip quivering, she eased her hands down to her side, clenching her fists. “Through all the years, every photographer, every movie, I’ve never felt beautiful, merely an object.” A nervous laugh escaped her mouth. Hissing, she closed her eyes.
Riker exhaled as he moved closer. She was covered in goosebumps, her arms and legs quivering. Cupping both sides of her face, he rubbed his thumbs in gentle strokes, relishing in the way her skin felt against his fingertips. Lowering his head, he pressed his lips against first one then her other eyelid. “Hear me. I will take what I want.”
“Yes. You can have everything. Anything.”
Reaching down, he slid his fingers under the string of her thong. With a single twist of his wrist, he jerked away the thin covering, pitching her panties onto the floor.
A single moan escaped her lips, yet her expression remained full of determination. Curling her fingers, she used the tips of her nails, scratching down the front of his chest. As she began to tug on his belt, pulling an inch at a time, she panted, her fingers gripping the strap.
“With pleasure comes pain.”
“Yes. What I need.” Her words were mere whispers, a soft admittance of the woman inside.
The thought of disciplining her, using his belt to create welts on her flawless skin was a powerful aphrodisiac. He was lost to the beast inside, the one that would mark her body, require her to belong to him.
When the belt was free, she brought the strap to her face, drinking in the smell, the essence. Darting out her tongue, she licked across the grain before pressing the tip against her neck, sliding it down to her breasts.
The moment was cathartic, the beginning of a story of their creation. His body remained tense, his mind full of rapture.
Trinity allowed the end of the strap to dangle between her legs, swinging the belt back and forth as she opened her legs wide.
Riker eased his hand between her legs, pressing the leather against her pussy, sliding both up and down. He studied her face, the way her moans became whimpers, her mouth pursed with raging desire. “One day I will spank every inch of you, whipping your ass, your breasts and your pussy.”
“Oh, yes. Yes!” As he continued, her body undulated, shifting back and forth.
He dug the strap into her cunt, rubbing harder and faster, his breath skipping as she fell into the moment of pleasure. “Pinch your nipples for me.”
Obeying instantly, she cupped and squeezed her breasts before taking both hardened nipples between her fingers, plucking and twisting, her mouth going slack. “Oh…”
The belt moved easily, slickened from her pussy juice, and he continued to rub, his hand moving faster, harder. He had difficulty focusing as she pinched, her own moves forceful.
Her body began to sway forward and backward and she opened her mouth in a perfect ‘O’ as her chest heaved.
Harder. Faster. He loved the feel of the leather sliding along her tender tissue. He could tell she was close to coming, her legs trembling to the point she was having difficulty standing. As she writhed, her eyes fluttering open and closed, he issued a single command and one he knew she would follow. “Come. Now!”
Her eyes shot open, her mouth going slack, the sound coming from her throat more of a growl. “Aaahhh!”
Riker continued, pushing her into a blissful zone until her body went slack, falling toward him. He held her against him as he folded the strap then he wrapped his arm around the front of her, pulling her over at the waist.
She moaned but didn’t resist, merely lolled down her head, her long hair draping over her shoulders.
He rubbed the belt down the length of her spine then tapped on her buttocks, remaining breathless.
Crack!
“Oh!” Jerking up, she flashed him a look.
“Pain and pleasure.”
“Yes. Yes, sir.”
Smack! Crack!
He remained holding his breath as he issued a series of hard strikes, one after the other.
Pop! Crack!
Holding her tightly, he had never felt in more control in his life.
Smack! Crack!
Riker rubbed the belt down to her upper thighs, smacking both with quick, hard snaps.
Slap! Pop!
With every strike, every controlled spank, she seemed to fall into a state of peace, her moans becoming whimpers, her body relaxing.
Crack! Slap!
Stars floated in front of his eyes, a tingling feeling rushing into every muscle.
Whap! Smack!
The sensations were incredible, creating an almost desperate need for more.
Crack! Pop!
Seconds later, he dropped the belt and eased her into a standing position, capturing her mouth and thrusting his tongue past her lips.
She remained shivering, but her kiss was a passionate roar and she flung her arms around his neck, clinging to him as the kiss became more intense, heated until they were both grunting.
When he broke the hold, he exhaled and pushed her down onto her knees then took a step back, removing his jeans and underwear.
Seeing him naked, she licked her lips and reached out, dropping her arms seconds later. She knew how to obey, how to follow directions and wanted nothing more than for him to control her every move.
Inching closer and using a single finger, he trailed a line from her arm to her shoulder as he moved behind her. Crouching down, he rolled down onto his back and tugged her with him until she was straddling his face. He held her hips and kept her aloft as he inhaled her luscious scent. Darting out his tongue, he dragged the tip around her clit until she moaned.
“Oh, my…” Her arms at her sides, she wiggled as he licked her, her body rocking ever so slowly.
Sliding his tongue inside her cunt, he pulled her down until she was sitting on his face. As he began to feast, licking her with wild motions, she leaned forward.
He could feel her hands on his cock, her fingers stroking the underside. His cock was hard, throbbing, his balls already full of cum. When she slid her hot, wet mouth around his cockhead, he grunted and began to lick her in fevered moves.
Trinity grunted as she sucked, one hand pumping and twisting the base, the other rolling his testicles between her fingers.
Riker slid one hand around her hip, his finger finding her dark hole. He wiggled the tip between her ass cheeks, dipping his finger just inside.
Bristling, she moaned as she took him down an inch at a time, her hand creating friction, her fingers squeezing his balls.
Every cell on fire, he pushed further into her asshole as he continued to lick, the taste of her damn sweet. She was so wet, her juice oozed onto his face, his chin.
She used her strong jaw muscles to suck as she raked her fingers up and down the underside of his shaft. Moving up and down, she allowed the sound to become exaggerated as she sucked, her throat now relaxed.
This was a feast, a moment of release for his soul and he wanted her to swallow every drop, but he wanted more. So damn much more.
Bobbing her head up and down, she developed a rhythm, her mouth and tongu
e working in unison.
He was almost lost to the passion, to the way her mouth was driving him into raw ecstasy but on this night, he would own her. Pushing her up, her grabbed and wrapped his hand around her hair, pulling her away from his cock. “Get on all fours.”
She crawled off him and moved into position, her head held high, her legs spread wide open. She was offering him every inch, every hole to take and use, to fuck and fondle.
His legs tense and quivering from excitement, he rose to his knees, inching closer. Sliding two fingers into her pussy, he pumped, the move hard and fast. He added a third then fourth, flexing them open as he thrust, the move almost savage.
Her body rocked yet she maintained position.
The look of her welts was so sublime, such a magnanimous draw that he grunted, the sound guttural. Unable to hold back any longer, he lifted his cock and shoved the entire length into her cunt as he fisted her long strands, tugging back. Beads of sweat rolled down his face, his neck, the drops cascading off and hitting her on the small of the back. He watched as they fell, sliding down the crack of her ass.
“Oh! Yes!” She panted, meeting every hard thrust, arching her back as he tugged on her hair.
Riker loved the sound of flesh hitting flesh as he plunged into her, the force almost pushing her face down, hitting the rug. And still he continued, harder. Faster. His breath was caught in his throat, his breathing ragged. Sweat rolled into his eyes, clouding his vision but nothing had ever felt so damn good. Pressing his hand on the small of her back, he allowed his thumb to wiggle between the crack of her ass, finding her asshole. One day he would claim her dark hole.
“Riker…”
“I can’t hold it.” Harder. The thrusts becoming deeper.
She squeezed her cunt muscles and pushed back.
The climax raced up his legs, curling his toes and creating severe pain in his balls from the pressure. When he could hold back no longer, he exploded, throwing his head back and howling. “Yes!” When he stopped shaking he curled his arms around her and pressed his chest against her back, savoring the warmth. As he closed his eyes, more content than he had been in months, he heard something that stripped him of the joy.
She was crying.
Chapter 7
The night was quiet, only a few dogs barking in the background. He’d been patient, spending time at his favorite bar until closing time. He was far enough away from the city that he could appreciate the view of the mountains, their peeks somehow glowing under the almost full moon. He stood with his arms crossed, enjoying the brisk breeze, the slight chill in the air. God, he loved this time of year.
So far, his plan was going according to every detail, the organized chart he’d put together over three months ago. His design was damn good. Snickering, he studied the house and knew that he was taking a chance tonight. Sadly, he wasn’t a patient man and she was only going to be home for two days. At least his contacts had been able to keep him informed. He paid the fuckers well enough they damn well better supply him with information.
He stood in the shadows for another few minutes, watching for any sign of life. Life. Now, he had to keep from bursting into laughter. The stupid bitch had no idea that she was merely a pawn. What a shame. But he had to do this right. Patting his pockets, he was satisfied he had everything he needed. He slipped into his gloves and headed in the direction of her house, or as he liked to call her, ‘the wicked witch of the west’. He smiled, resisted whistling, and realized he was in a damn happy mood.
As usual, he crept around the back, being very careful not to draw any attention. Her neighbors were too close given the type of neighborhood. There was no fence, no gate to contend with, merely a small walkway leading to a set of French doors. He stood on the deck, listening and surveying the area. There was no one awake. They no longer partied, no longer cared about the nightclubs and after-hours bars. They were, according to the powers that be, respectable citizens.
The lock was easy and there was no alarm, no security measures of any kind, which was surprising given her status. Then again, this was Missoula. He closed the door with a soft click and waited for a few seconds until his eyes became used to the darkness. He knew exactly where he was going. He also knew every square inch of the house, the location of furniture, pictures. He also knew her habits, even if the plane had been delayed.
He walked into the study and turned on a single light. The wooden beams giving the entire room a cozy feeling was perfect, especially given the roofline sloped in the direction of her desk. He ran his hand along the smooth wood, marveling at the fact she was neat and tidy. There wasn’t a speck of dust, even though she’d been gone for three days. Her housekeeper should be given a raise and would certainly move the situation right along in the direction he desired.
He positioned the rope, twisting and tying until it was perfect. Tugging, he could tell the thick rope would be secure enough, and that had taken some calculations. A grin crossed his face. Everything was ready.
He kept close to the wall as he stalked down the hallway. Her bedroom door was open, and she was snoring, her body smack in the middle of the bed. While he loathed the concept of using chloroform, he doubted anyone would demand an autopsy. Her connection to the fat fucker from before would be difficult to find out and the sheriff was a befuddled idiot.
The small bottle held just enough for his use and he was cautious not to spill a drop. She didn’t resist until he had her in a sitting position. Then she flailed her arms, scratching at him, her nails catching his cheek.
Hissing, he raised his arm, ready to beat her into a bloody pulp, but pulled back, clenching his fist. That wouldn’t bode well for the plan. Not at all. He squeezed her mouth and nose until she accepted the inevitable.
She was easy to lift, toss over his shoulder. Now, he could whistle, enjoy his work. Thank God, she was light enough he didn’t even break into a sweat when he placed the noose around her neck.
He watched the way her body swung back and forth, the rope creaking against the beams. Damn, if he didn’t do good work. There was no reason to tidy up her bedroom or even worry about her night time attire. He placed the note on her desk and backed out. Everyone at her office knew she was having difficulty with her divorce. There would be no real question about the fact she took her own life. She had no real friends and even those she worked with knew very little about her. She was a nothing to no one in a political arena of useless assholes.
One more and the prize. He wouldn’t wait.
“You’re going to be ruined!”
Jerking awake, Trinity blinked several times as her body quivered. She was panting, even sweating from the damn dream. She rolled on her side and fisted her mouth to keep from gasping. How had she forgotten where she was? A single strand of moonlight peeking in through the blinds allowed her to see the shadowed outline of his face. Even in sleep, Riker seemed to have a pensive look on his face, as if worry and exhaustion had created permanent lines.
She brushed the back of her hand across his cheek, pulling back when he grunted and rolled onto his back. They’d talked some, but the few hours had been spent drinking and doing little more than holding each other. She had a feeling his life was full of pain, a refusal to allow her to get any closer. Then again, she hadn’t told him about the wretched details of why she’d run to Missoula.
Crowding closer, she tugged the sheet around her arm and cuddled next to him, keeping her head on his chest. From her position, she was able to see the single picture she’d noticed in his house. The silver frame seemed to glisten in the shimmering light, accentuating the photograph. Lifting her head, she studied the happy threesome and shrunk back as the understanding settled in. Riker, a woman and child were standing together. They were a family. There were very much in love.
She felt like an intruder, someone who he’d never bargained for and no doubt didn’t plan on inviting into his home. Sadness crept into her heart, forcing her to look away. This was invading his privacy. A sudd
en chill slithered down her spine to the back of her legs. She didn’t belong here. Not with him.
Easing out of bed, she tried to remember where she’d dropped her clothes. The living room. She’d been allowed to borrow a shirt from his closet. Reaching down, she snagged the material and slid her arms into the sleeves, buttoning a few of the buttons. He’d made a fire and the embers were still glowing, allowing her to see the outline of the furniture as she walked out of the bedroom.
While she didn’t just want to leave, she also didn’t want to see the light of morning, perhaps knowing they’d both regret what they’d done. Walking around the couch, she couldn’t help but smile as she noticed the belt. Unable to resist, she hunkered down, fingering the strap. Even from where she crouched down, she could detect the slight scent of her climax. A giggle bubbled to the surface. Would he ever be able to remove the smell?
She continued to finger the belt as she stood, holding the strap against her chest. The memory would be sweet, a wonderful reminder that there were other reasons to live. She allowed her thoughts to drift to her books, her imagination weaving a sinful story, until she heard a noise at the front door. The clinking was followed by a rattle of the doorknob. Then she noticed the handle turning. Riker hadn’t locked the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the group of fireplace implements. Dropping the belt, she yanked the poker off the stand, holding the metal in both hands.
Before she had time to react, the door was swung open and a man stormed inside.
Trinity took two long strides and swung the poker, catching the intruder against the arm, the force knocking him onto his knees.
“What the fuck?” the intruder yelped.
“Get out!” she snarled and was prepared to swing again.
“What in God’s name is going on?”
An overhead light was switched on, flooding the entire room.
Blinking, she opened her mouth to explain when the intruder stood, swaying back and forth. Once she recognized him, the man who’d been with Riker at the store, she cringed. “I thought he was breaking in.”