Surrendering to the Bodyguard

by Asha Daniels

  Cutter used the tip of his index finger to lift her chin, darting his eyes back and forth across hers. “You’re an amazing woman, but you will learn to obey me without question.”

  “I know I will, sir. I know.”

  “Lie across the pillows.” Everything about the way she was acting was so similar, too similar and he swallowed several times, trying to rid his throat of the bile roaring up from his stomach. They weren’t the same. They had nothing in common. But his heart continued to pound, sending echoes into his head, slithering into his brain. He rubbed his eyes as she settled over the pillows, her ass in the air, her legs together, her arms over her head.

  She exhaled once and pressed her face against the bedding. She wasn’t shaking, there was no movement in her body. She was merely prepared for the next step in their evolution.

  God, oh God. Let me do the right thing. Please. He used the back of his arm to wipe away the sweat as he advanced then folded one end of the belt against the other. As he held the strap into the dimming light, he swallowed several times. He was no longer certain he could wear the belt again. The implement and this moment were far too important.

  But would he keep his sanity?

  “Thirty and you will count them off. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir.” While the answer was muffled, there was no strain in her voice, only trust, perhaps adoration of his courage.

  What courage? He sniffed and touched the small of her back, allowing his fingers to caress. The spanking from before was no longer red, merely a subtle pink. The belt would change everything, altering the course of their relationship. Such trust. Such utter longing. He couldn’t, no he refused to fail her.

  Crack!

  “Oh! One, sir.”

  He was the one who almost faltered, stepping back and struggling to remain standing. “Good girl.”

  Smack! Pop!

  “Two and three, sir.” Jasmine’s voice was strong.

  He rubbed the loop against his jeans. Visions flashed into his eyes, momentary snippets from the past, the utter torturous scandal that had stripped him of his humanity. Fighting, he managed to shove them away, refusing to succumb to their tyranny. Jasmine deserved all of him, every damaged inch.

  Whack! Slap!

  “Four and… Five, sir.”

  Crack! Pop!

  His breathing now calm, he was able to concentrate, to focus on what he was doing. He was practiced, trained and had perfected his technique years before. “You’re doing very well.”

  “Six and seven, sir.” She kicked out her legs once, her toes curling.

  Smack! Slap!

  “Oh!” Jerking up, she gasped and shook her head. “I’m sorry, sir. Seven and eight, I think, sir.”

  “Eight and nine. One infraction and no more or we start again. Maintain your position. If I tell you that you will or will not perform a task, you will obey. Correct, Jasmine?”

  “Yes, sir.” There were tears in her voice.

  Crack! Pop!

  “Ten and eleven, sir!” The tone was laced with acceptance, a hushed but confident level of peace.

  Smack! Whack!

  “Twelve and thirteen, sir.” Her voice held strength, the volume increasing.

  Panting, he tried to hold in his breath as he caressed her ass. She would welt, wear his marks.

  His marks.

  Jesus. She would belong to him. He blinked several times before stepping back.

  Crack! Slap!

  “Fourteen and fifteen, sir.” Sobbing, she pressed her face into the comforter.

  Sweat rolled into his eyes. Fuck. Control. He was all about controlling his actions, his mind, his needs.

  But you need her. You can’t live without her.

  This was true enough.

  Pop! Smack!

  “Sixteen and seventeen, sir.”

  He moved to the other side, his smacks becoming even, placed exactly where he wanted them. As he fell into his zone, everything slipped into place. This was the man he was supposed to be. “Two more.”

  “Yes, sir,” she managed then gulped.

  Slap! Crack!

  “Twenty… nine and, um… thirty, sir.”

  Cutter eyed the belt in the growing darkness, fingering the rough grain of the leather. Then a smile crossed his face, one of peace, a single one. He’d driven his mind to the other side, to the man who’d been hiding. She was his muse, possibly his salvation. “You did so well. Stay put.”

  “Yes, sir.” She wiped her eyes and resumed position.

  He eased the belt onto the dresser and walked to the hallway, listening. There was nothing. No worries. No crazed killer. Tonight, he would enjoy.

  After checking the locks, he grabbed a fresh bottle of wine, opening it before grabbing two glasses. On the way out, he noticed candles. Light would be needed. A smile remaining on his face, he walked with purpose back to the room, taking one last look over the balcony before moving back inside.

  She was lying exactly where he’d left her. He couldn’t help but admire her beauty. There were no shadows able to hide her exquisite features or her soft skin, her feminine curves and a perfectly rounded ass. Exhaling, he set everything down on the top of the dresser, lighting the candles. He heard the sound of the covers rustling and darted a look into the mirror. There was a smile on her face and he adored the way she clenched the comforter, flexing and opening, squeezing then relaxing.

  “I thought you’d left me,” she whispered, the words followed by a laugh.

  He chuckled as he poured two glasses of wine. “Not a chance.” As he gazed at her, he could tell she was intrigued, longing to ask questions, to get to know the man inside. “Come here.”

  Sliding off the bed, she padded closer. “Candles. A surprise as well as the wine. I thought you didn’t drink.”

  “I normally don’t, or at least I refuse when I’m on duty.”

  “Does that mean I’m no longer just a client.” Her tone teasing, she nipped his chin, purring before giving him a lust filled look.

  “You’re one bad girl. You’re still my client. Never forget that.” He could see the change in her eyes, the words meant as a reminder that this wasn’t a game, or a fantasy. No matter what they both wanted to pretend. Handing her a glass of wine, he nodded, giving his approval.

  Jasmine licked the rim of the glass before taking a sip. “They say wine is a powerful aphrodisiac.”

  “They. I wonder who these famous and intelligent people truly are.” Even the way she drank her wine was sensuous.

  “Important. No doubt. At least to them.” Her laugh filtered into the air, her eyes dancing in the candlelight. “I’m glad you’re my bodyguard, Cutter Thomas.”

  “Mmm… We’ll see what you say in the morning. Take another sip.”

  “I think you might be trying to get me drunk.”

  “Do I need to?”

  She hesitated. “No. You don’t.” After following his order, she placed her glass on the dresser and took his out of his hand. “You won’t need this for a little while.” Using just the tips of her fingers, she brushed them down both sides of his face to his neck, the touch feather light, gentle as only a woman could do.

  Cutter shuddered, his cock pressing hard against his way too tight jeans. He was close to agony, his balls already full of cum. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to undress you now.” A wry smile crossing her face, she continued touching, moving her hands down to the open area of his shirt, lightly caressing his chest. “All male. Perfect.” Her finger unfastened every button on his shirt as if she was opening a Christmas present, excited yet longing to keep the surprise intact. When she’d finished the last button, she pressed the material off his shoulders.

  Gravity taking the crisp cotton to the floor, he inhaled, and the single whiff of her perfume was damn intoxicating, lighting up his senses, filtering into his blood.

  She kissed his chest and traced the various tattoos with the tip of her finger.

  �
�They all have a story.”

  Biting her lip, she moved around to his back, kissing and licking his skin. “I can imagine. Do they match your scars?”

  The moment her fingers rubbed across the tattered skin, he wanted to bristle, but he didn’t. Her loving touch was allowing him to relax. “Shot in Afghanistan trying to drag one of the Marines to safety.”

  “Did he survive?” Jasmine whispered.

  “He did.” He could see the terrified boy’s face, could almost hear his voice pleading that Cutter didn’t leave him. He’d blocked the memory.

  Her fingers moved across a slender but long cut on the small of his back. “A knife?”

  “Yes, from a perp in New York. And no, he didn’t survive.”

  She pressed her lips against his shoulder. “A beautiful man and one with so many scars.”

  “An ugly soul.”

  “Not true. I can see through you.”

  Cutter had no doubt that she could.

  She rubbed her fingers across several rough scars, pressing kisses behind them.

  “From an explosion. Our convoy was hit. Only a few of our men survived,” he murmured. The explosion had left the majority dead, the remainder disfigured. Only he’d survived the attack relatively unscathed. Another moment of intense guilt.

  “Because you were meant to do great things.”

  She would have no idea how the words stung.

  He closed his eyes briefly as she rubbed his arm, his fingers then eased back around to face him. Panting, he clenched his fists, trying to allow her time to play, to discover. The why didn’t matter.

  “Look at me, Cutter. Look into my eyes.”

  His heart racing, he opened his eyes and seeing the shimmering violet was such a painful reminder. He cupped her jaw, running his thumb across her cheek. “You have her eyes.”

  “The woman you were in love with?”

  “Yes.”

  “I hope the reminder is one you’ll accept.” She gave him a heated smile before unfastening his jeans and pushing them past his hips. Dropping to the floor, she unlaced his boots, taking her time, humming a sultry tune.

  Accepting wasn’t his issue.

  He was mesmerized, so drawn into her world that he was panting, excitement building. When he was free of his boots, he tossed his head back, closing his eyes once again. The feel of her hands on his hips and thighs, moving ever so slowly down his knees was exhilarating. He let her alone, to explore, to uncover the shell of the man.

  She dragged his jeans from his feet, tossing them aside. “No underwear. Delicious.”

  The moment her hot breath cascaded across his groin, he allowed a single moan. She was driving him insane.

  A soft mewl left her mouth as she rose to her feet, her hands never leaving him. She palmed his chest and pressed her lips against his skin, peppering kisses.

  Cutter wanted to drag her to the bed, to take what now belonged to him but he was a patient man. This, she deserved.

  Jasmine kissed from one shoulder to the other then dragged her lips down to his nipple. Darting her tongue around in a lazy circle, she exhaled again before taking his tender bud into her mouth.

  Dear God, the way the woman sucked him, biting down, was incredible. He shifted from one foot to the other, keeping his hands at his sides.

  She dragged her open mouth to his other nipple, repeating the move, licking. Sucking. Her hands roamed, moving down his taut stomach, resting on his hips. As she dropped to her knees, she crawled her fingers down to the inside of his thighs, pressing, rubbing.

  He was tingling all over, his dick jutting forward. Stars floated inside his closed eyes and he was breathless as his heart raced. This was far too incredible.

  Her hands continued to roam, to caress, moving down to his knees and shins, then to his feet. She caressed first one then the other before crawling behind him, running her hands up along his calves.

  Her touch was enigmatic, setting him on fire, creating a heated vibe of electricity. Nothing had felt this damn good, this right. He was shaking, and he clenched his fists as he allowed a long breath to escape, the sound garbled.

  As she allowed her fingers to roam his legs, brushing up to the back of his thighs, she licked behind every move until she reached his ass. Another chuckle pushed past her lips as she kneaded his tight buttocks. As if daring to rile him, she brushed two fingers up the crack of his ass.

  Tensing, he shot a look over his shoulder but couldn’t help but smile. She was testing him. Teasing. And he loved every minute.

  She crouched on her legs, staying low as she growled and kissed his legs, the backs of his knees. As she rose into a standing position, she kissed both ass cheeks and the small of his back, her fingers caressing, crawling, digging into his skin.

  He was panting, exasperated from need, desire stiffening every muscle. Fuck. He was so damn turned on, so hungry that he had difficulty breathing.

  Purring, her tongue sliding along his backbone, she stood tall, her hands wrapping around his shoulders, her mouth dragging along his skin. She licked his shoulder and eased back around to the front, taking a full stride backward, her arms outstretched but no longer touching.

  After opening his eyes, he stared at her, drinking in the sweet essence of the woman he was falling hard for. Then he grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her forward. Sliding his hands under her buttocks, he lifted her into the air.

  “Oh!” The yelp was short lived as she gripped his shoulders, her legs wrapping around his upper thighs. Biting her lower lip, her eyes flashed.

  There was no doubt she understood that he was in absolute power.

  Yanking her forward again, he thrust her down on his cock, impaling her cunt.

  “God!” Throwing back her head, the moan became elongated as her fingers clamped down harder on his shoulders.

  Dropping his head, he controlled his breathing as he held her, savoring the way his cock was so deep inside, throbbing against her pussy walls. “Tight. Fuck.”

  “Yes. Yes!”

  Cutter lifted her again, using his upper body strength to pull her down. This was raw and pure ecstasy. He wanted more. He had to have more. Walking them toward the bed, he eased her down until her back was nestled against the pillows.

  She eased her arms over her head, her mouth twisted in a moment of passion. Her legs remained wrapped around his legs and she tugged, pulling him toward her.

  Crawling onto the bed, he planted his hands on either side of her head, lowering until their lips were just touching. “What do you want?”

  “Everything. All of you. Anything you demand. Anything.”

  The words were such a powerful draw, sizzling every nerve. “Be careful what you ask for, my sweet, as you do belong to me.” He pivoted his hips and impaled her again, the force pushing her hard against the bed.

  “Yes!” Arching her back, she tipped her head back, her mouth open, a look of unbridled need on her face.

  He pulled out until just the tip was inside then plunged again. And again.

  She lifted her legs, moving them higher and wrapping her ankles together. “Oh, fuck me. Please.”

  “Mmm…” He kissed her lips once before beginning again, driving harder and faster, picking up his rhythm until sweat rolled down from his forehead, dropping onto her face. He wanted to come deep inside, to fill her. She was so wet, so damn hot. He continued thrusting, grunting with each hard plunge.

  “Yes. Yes!” Jasmine tossed her head back and forth, one hand absently brushing back and forth across her lips.

  He had to hold back. This was going to last. Growling, he placed his hands under her and with ease, rolled them into a sitting position until she was straddling his waist.

  Her mouth pursed, she draped her arms over his shoulders, her eyes staring into his as she began to rock. To ride him.

  The angle was different, creating a tremor down his back. He allowed her to ride him, moving in a slow and methodical fashion. He kissed her lips, her chin and nuzzled again
st her neck, taking her skin into his mouth.

  “Oh… Oh!” Her body shaking, she was trembling, her legs shaking.

  Dear God, he was in such extreme anguish. Pushing her back, he rolled her over onto her stomach, the pillows remaining just underneath. Straddling her legs and keeping hers closed, he maneuvered his cock inside her pussy and pressed up on his hands until his back was in a deep arch. Then he began fucking her. The sound of skin slapping together, her grunts mixing with his was another level of music.

  She clenched her hands around the comforter, pulling and tugging, moans pushing past her lips. “Come inside. Come.”

  He was shaking, his eyes watering and there was no way he was going to hold back much longer. Tensing his body, he shifted until his toes were pressing hard against the bed, lifting him, switching the angle yet again. He continued thrusting, driving into the very core of her. “Yes. I…” Unable to hold back any longer, he plunged harder and faster until his balls shot his load into his cock. “Yes!”

  “Oooohh!!” She slapped her hand on the comforter as her entire body shook.

  He remained where he was, panting. The sight of her skin shimmering, glowing from their carnal act gave him a smile. He rested on top of her, covering her body with his until their breathing slowed. When he crawled off, she reached for him. “I’m not leaving.” He crouched over her, pressing kisses along her shoulders and her spine. He rolled her over and shook his head. “Stay right here.”

  “Where would I go?”

  “If you try, you know what happens.”

  Jasmine gave a small salute.

  “Damn, you’re a bad girl.” He flexed his fingers as he walked toward the dresser. This time, her reflection was shadowed from the darkness outside. There was no other light but the flickering candles. He studied the flame before inhaling. The scent was vanilla laced with cinnamon. He was already aching once again. His needs wouldn’t be fulfilled with a single moment. Wrapping his hand around the thick pillar candle, he walked back toward the bed.

  “And just what do you think you’re going to do with that, sir?” Accentuating the word ‘sir’ she grinned as she eased her arms behind her head.

  He didn’t say a word as he crawled onto the bed, cocking his head to study her face. He held the candle aloft, waiting for any reaction.