There was a pause, an adjustment of the belt in his grip, and she was grateful to have the curtain of her hair to hide in. He would have never allowed it normally, but she was in control of this session. The next line of fire that went across her ass cheeks had her almost standing up, her hands coming off the horse for a fraction of a second as she screamed. He caught it and corrected her. “Hands on the horse. Now.”
She dropped into position and her body lit up, pain zigzagging through her nerves as sobs tried to push out of her clenched teeth. Her memory played Marcus’ voice, his twisted words, and she felt the ghost of his touch on her skin. A hard lash across her thighs almost made her knees buckle, and she screamed again.
James. It’s James. It’s James.
For a moment she could almost smell Marcus near her and she forced her eyes open so she could see the thick tiles on the floor of the room. She was home. It was the horse under her hands that she had memorized in her time with James. Lifting her eyes she could see the bed she’d shared with James, only James. The spanking bench. Her breathing was rapid, a constant whine coming out of her as the lashes overlapped and pain became a constant, steady thrum inside her. “Please, please, please...”
Thalia couldn’t tell if the next strike on her ass was actually harder, or if it was just the bruised skin sending sharper pain signals. She dropped to her knees in front of the horse, and she could hear James’ heavy breaths behind her. Waiting. Waiting for her to safe word and stop it.
Marcus was in her head though, his breath against her ear as he called her a slut, told her she wanted it, told her she needed it, needed him. It was Marcus picking up the belt, the sound of metal fixtures dragging across concrete.
James’ voice cut through her memories, “Thalia.” He didn’t say anything else as he waited for her to stop him, but she couldn’t. Not yet.
Wiping her face she stood again and shook her head to answer the question he hadn’t said out loud. “Please, Master. More.”
He was silent for a moment. She would have understood if he’d refused, she wouldn’t have faulted him. He had already done more for her than she had any right to expect. Instead, he spoke clearly. “Hands behind your head. Hold your hair out of the way. Feet apart, and - Do. Not. Move.”
Thalia obeyed, and a moment later felt the snap of the leather across the middle of her back. Back to normal effort, but the skin was so much more sensitive that it had the same effect. She wavered on her feet before pressing her heels back to the floor. James continued, lining up the strikes from her shoulders to the middle of her back, carefully avoiding her kidneys. Evening out the stinging lashes until her entire backside was a wicked pulse. Each flash of the belt over her skin made her cry harder, and tighten her fingers in her hair. She danced forward after a lash and his voice cracked out.
“Do not move, pet.” He growled softly, and she realized she had no idea the count. No idea of the number of times the belt had kissed her skin in a symphony of fire and pain. Leaving her flesh hot and bruising, the ache sinking down to her bones.
But she knew it was James, and there was no fear. There was the complete belief that one word would stop everything.
Chair. The word she had chosen the night he had saved her.
Another lash that made her arch her back and scream.
Chair.
Her lips almost formed it, and he brought the belt down hard over her skin, her brain tempting her towards the abyss of sub space, letting the pain become a buzzing in her skin. Letting her body renew the pounding between her thighs that made her want to drop forward and feel James fill her from behind, feel his cock split and stretch her. James. James. James.
“CHAIR!” She screamed and dropped her arms, stumbling forward to catch herself on the gymnastics horse as her next intake of air was ragged with a sob. The sound of the belt dropping to the floor and James’ hard breaths behind her were all she had to hold on to as she tried to calm down. She waited to feel his hands on her, to hear his voice comfort her, but as she started to catch her breath he didn’t come to her. Standing, she turned to see him, and her heart ached. His hands were in his hair, clenching into the mess of blond as his green eyes told her every emotion flipping through him. No mask of control left. His expression was concern, and pain, and it spoke of a terrible fear that he had done something horrible that he couldn’t take back.
It was why he wasn’t touching her.
Thalia pushed off the horse and stepped confidently forwards until she collided with him, grabbing his face firmly to pull him down to her mouth. She kissed him hard and the force of her forward movement knocked him backwards until he met the wall. He didn’t stop her. She kissed him harder, her fingers digging in to the back of his neck until he finally wrapped his arms around her. Her back lit up with pain, but she didn’t care.
Every mark was his. And so was she.
“I need you.” Thalia spoke harshly against his lips, her arousal filling her tone, “James, I love you, and I need you. Please.”
He made a sound in his chest and grabbed her face in his hands. His eyes bored into hers, neither of them relaxing their firm grips on the other. She was about to beg again when he kissed her desperately and wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her so she wrapped her legs around him again. He stalked toward the door of the playroom and threw it open hard enough for it to crack against the wall. She buried her face against his shoulder, breathing deep the lingering smell of his cologne, that scent of warm male skin that was so specifically James. In a moment they were in their bedroom, and he laid her carefully back on their bed. His pants were off a second later and she shifted back to give him room to climb up. When he did he kissed her hip, her stomach, the space between her breasts, her neck, and then he captured her mouth again. His fingers slid inside her, but she was soaked and the wet sound of his thrusts only verified further that her body had always responded to pain. When he moved his hand, he traced the wetness over her hip, and she lifted herself against him.
“Tell me again.” James’ voice was rough against her ear, his forehead pressed to the bed next to her, his hips between her thighs but refusing to move closer even as she pulled at his waist trying to bring his weight over her.
“I need you, James. I love you, and I want you, please fuck me.” Thalia pleaded, one of her hands tangling in the hair at the back of his head. He lifted his head to look at her, and he looked tortured, his eyes a dark green storm cloud of emotion.
“You are so beautiful, you know that?” The edge of his mouth ticked up in the hint of a smile, and she melted. His hips lowered and he teased her, his cock brushing her pussy in slow, tantalizing movements that taunted her orgasm. She wiggled in frustration and he tightened his grip on her to hold her still. “You are so strong, and fierce, and feisty – and I love you more than I ever thought possible, Thalia.”
“James -” she started to respond, but he pressed a kiss to her mouth and thrust inside her. She was slick, and he filled her instantly, their moans came out in unison and her body shivered under his as the orgasm threatened to overwhelm her already. The ache of the welts that lined the back of her answered each pleasurable thrust until she was moaning and digging her fingers into his sides to pull him down on to her. Her hips met each pounding slap of his body against hers as heat blanketed her, electric tension coiling her tight and pushing her into the haze where the pain bled into pure sensation and she found herself babbling ‘please’ over and over as she rose higher and higher.
It was a cacophony of sensation when her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave of pleasure and pain and love and closure. She was aware of screaming out his name as her body went taut under his, her muscles quivering as he thrust hard again and again and then stilled inside her to fill her with pulses of his seed.
Head to toe, inside and out, she was his, and he was hers.
James.
He kissed her again as they caught their breath, and he covered her with his body. Warm, and heavy, an
d welcome. It was perfect. After a moment he slid to the side and leaned up on his elbow, their legs still intertwined. He brushed her cheek with his thumb, cupping her face as he looked down at her. “Talk to me, baby.”
“Thank you. Just... thank you.” She shook her head, trying to figure out how to put anything else into words as her body shivered.
“You waited so long to safe word...” James started to say something and stopped himself, but the concern in his eyes hinted at the guilt he felt. Thalia grabbed his hand and saw the indention of the buckle in his palm. She traced it with her thumb and her brows came together as she made a sad sound and kissed it.
“James, your hand -”
He cut her off and pulled his hand away, “Forget my hand. What about your back, baby? You’re going to be nothing but bruises from your shoulders to the backs of your knees. Why -” He stopped talking and she bit her cheek, reaching for his hand again so she could interlace their fingers. She hated that he had gripped the belt hard enough to make that dark imprint in his skin, but she knew her backside had to look bad. She had felt it. Which meant she had to explain. He had done what she’d asked for, what she needed. Now she had to explain.
“I couldn’t even look at belts, James.” She sighed and stared at their entwined fingers, “Every time I saw one, heard the sound of one being put on, or taken off – I was right back there. It was the only time the nightmares ever reached me during the day.”
“Fuck, Thalia...” James winced and dropped his head back to the bed, but she leaned up on her elbow to look down at him, gripping his hand tighter in hers.
“Wait. I have always liked the belt. When you used it. You can’t deny that, you’ve made me come using the belt alone before.” She laid her hand on his cheek when he tried to look away from her, “James, I couldn’t give it up. I couldn’t let him exist in my head over something so simple, especially not something that is so good when it’s between us. But he was in my head with it, and I know you understood that. You didn’t bring me every belt in the fucking closet for nothing. You let me pick the one that would help me get rid of the connection, that would help me erase it in my head with something good.”
“How was that good, Thalia?” There was emotion in James’ voice and she kissed him, but he pulled away and kept talking, “I would have stopped long before you used your safe word tonight. But you asked for it to be harder, you asked for more.”
“Because he was in my head when we started! All the memories tried to rush in, and I needed to get through them, I needed to burn them out. I needed to not have those things connected with the belt. And I kept asking for more because by the end of it I knew it was you without being able to see you. I knew if I said my safe word you would stop. I knew you were waiting to hear it. I needed that. And I waited until my body knew it too, until I was thinking about you fucking me when I called my safe word. Until you were all I could think about.” Her words finished on a rush and he kissed her again, hard. It overwhelmed her, and she felt like he finally understood all of it. As if she’d asked the question out loud he nodded before resting his forehead against hers.
“I’m throwing that belt in the bin. If you want one you can pick a different one for our play. Alright?” James’ blond hair was feather soft under her hand as she brushed through it, and she nodded rapidly.
“Okay.”
“Good. Now let me see you.” He kissed her and then rolled her to her stomach, hissing through his teeth as he got another look at her back, but he didn’t make another comment. He just rubbed her down with cream in smooth, confident strokes, until the ache dulled in her skin. When he was done he drew the sheets up, and lay down next to her with her hand in his. She was dreamy with exhaustion, her body well used, and sated, and calm.
James whispered his love for her, and she mumbled a return as she felt herself sliding into sleep – and for the first time in too long she let her self slip into dreams thinking of her future instead of her past.
She dreamt of two kids, a little blonde girl, and a light brown haired boy, and James’ laughter echoing across a rolling green lawn.
One Week Later
“Absolutely. If that’s the deal that has to be made to secure the new location, then do it.” James stalked away from his desk, the wireless headset feeding the man’s answer back to him. Another expansion, another opportunity to grow the company this quarter and keep the stock price rising. “Brilliant. Update me when it’s done.”
The call ended and James stared out at the London skyline. It was gray and misting, and while it was likely warm since it was June, standing in the air conditioning it just looked damp. For the tenth time that morning he worried about Thalia. Would she be walking around in this? She never brought an umbrella with her even though it rained often.
He loved it though.
Sometimes when she returned from teaching a class she would be like some wild, woodland nymph wandering back into the flat; damp from rain, her hair coming out of her ponytail from her run, her cheeks flushed and her eyes bright. If he said anything to her about it, if he asked her where her umbrella was, she’d just laugh and tell him he worried too much about her.
Worried? Worried was an understatement.
James grabbed his mobile from the desk and texted the head of the security team he had hired for her before they had even left the states for London. An instant later he had an update: T is still at studio. Went to Café Illiad for lunch. Bought us all pastries.
He groaned and sat back behind his desk. Thalia made it a point to acknowledge the men that followed her everywhere. James had told her to just live her life, to ignore them – and she had done the exact opposite. Thalia now knew all of their names, had insisted they eat lunch with her on numerous occasions, and had sent one of their children a birthday present and brought another’s wife soup when she found out she was sick. One of the men had a teenage daughter who now had a free membership at the studio, courtesy of Thalia. In turn, the men were now incredibly dedicated to her, going well above and beyond their job description. A few weeks back, one had returned her jacket to her at the flat after she left it at the studio, another had started bringing fresh fruit every morning she had a class. It was Jake’s team all over again. Everyone that met Thalia loved her.
But that James completely understood.
Their dedication didn’t bother him. It meant that they were more committed to keeping her safe than they may have been for just a regular job. Peter, the head of the team, had insisted on knowing everything. James had given him the whole story and the man’s eyes had said more than any words could have. That hard edge to his jaw settling in place as he absorbed the details and connected them to the bright, smiling woman he’d been following for over a month since she’d started leaving the flat again.
With Peter’s team keeping track of her twenty-four hours a day, Thalia would never be at risk again.
James sighed and ran a hand over his face, making himself flip through the emails that came in faster than he could ever actually read them. It wasn’t long until he ended up distracted from work again by the picture of the two of them on his desk. Julie had snuck the photo when they had been out at the pub with her and Antonio well before the trip to the states. James was whispering in Thalia’s ear and she was about to laugh, her smile wide, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol and whatever he had told her. His own mouth was curved in a smile, and he often tried to remember exactly what he’d been saying to her. Had he been describing what he wanted to do to her that night? Had he been sharing a private joke with her?
Thinking about her meant all he really wanted to do was call her and hear her voice. Hear that edge of exasperation in her tone that he was calling her again at work. He wanted to hear her tease him that he must have nothing to do all day. And then he wanted to tell her he loved her more than anything.
She was his center. The pivot around which the rest of his life turned. She was the only person in the world who knew every facet of
him. All of the darkness, and all of the light. And she loved him.
And he had almost lost her.
That terrible nagging feeling that she could slip away from him in an instant had not faded. Not in the three months since they’d been back in London. He had mentioned it to Ailsa once, casually, and she had told him it was natural, that it would take time until he felt confident in Thalia’s safety again. Clearly, not enough time had passed.
Their road back to relative normalcy had been rough, but it seemed like they finally had it. A routine, like any couple would. Private jokes and habits and favorite spots on the couch.
James was suddenly overwhelmed with the memory of the night everything had started to turn for the better. It was early in their third week back at the flat, and it had been a few days since Ailsa had left, after she’d made Thalia sleep. In those early weeks James had been sick with worry every time they lay down in their bed. Never sure if he’d be ripped out of sleep by her screams or her sudden panicked movements as she tried to fight a nightmare.
Salvaged by Love (Thalia Book 3) (The Thalia Series) Page 27