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Beneath the Scars

Page 27

by Cherise Sinclair


  This time the urgency rose even faster, a terrifying pressure inside her, ready to explode. He lifted his head to murmur, “Not yet, Josie,” and waited for her to fight it down.

  How did he know?

  He started again. Every thrust inside her pulled her closer, every light touch on her clit made it more swollen, more taut—and she fought back another climax. Every exhalation held a moan of need and pleading.

  He paused. Paused. Paused.

  “I’m proud of you, sweetheart. You can come now.” His lips closed around her clit, his tongue teasing and tapping.

  Under the exquisite torment, the pressure inside her built to a razor’s edge.

  His fingers thrust in just an infinitesimal amount harder.

  “Oh, God.” The explosion hit in a wild eruption. Spasm after spasm of billowing pleasure poured through her, right down to her toes like molten hot lava flowing to the sea.

  As her orgasm eased and she sucked in air from the aftershocks, Holt laughed—laughed—and suddenly his fingers moved, thrusting hard and fast inside her.

  With a shocked gasp, she stiffened, and her center spasmed hard again in fresh waves of pleasure.

  Oh God, Oh God.

  The rolling climax lasted and lasted.

  Finally, as her heart began to slow, his mouth came down on her exquisitely sensitive clit. He curled his fingers upward inside her pussy and massaged a place that sent amazing sensations careening up her spine. Rather than dancing lightly over the nub, his tongue rubbed firmly. Demandingly. And the fingers stroking that internal spot were relentless.

  Her body shot back into monstrous need. My God, she’d already come twice. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t.”

  “You can. You will.” He blew a puff of air over her sensitive nub and made her tremble. His eyes met hers as his lips curved into a wicked smile. “Sweetheart…we’re just getting started.”

  He licked over her clit, each flickering touch a merciless wonderful torment as he pushed her back toward the precipice. And then, his mouth closed over her, and he sucked.

  Exquisite heat roared into her core, and her whole body arched upward as she came again. The stunning pleasure whipped through her body in a fireball of sensation. “Noooo.” Her hips tried to buck—futilely.

  Inside her, his fingers pressed deeper, thrusting in and out, before he returned to massaging her G-spot.

  Her knees trembled in the restraints as pleasure after pleasure engulfed her. Her whole core was one tingling lake of sensation.

  Mercilessly, he kept her going. His tongue flickered over her just enough to spark another wave. His fingers rubbed inside her. And her orgasm went on…forever.

  When Holt finally straightened, sweat beaded on her skin, and her body was limp with satisfaction.

  Amusement and heat shone in his eyes. “You’re gorgeous when you come, Josie. I’m tempted to keep this going a while longer.”

  Still gasping for air, she stared at him in disbelief.

  After removing the belts and releasing her arms and legs, he massaged the aches from her stiff shoulders and hips. “But I owe you a spanking, and it’s not good to defer a punishment.”

  Her sluggish mind grappled for what he meant. Punishment? Wait.

  As he picked her up and positioned her belly-down over his knees, she realized she should have run.

  “No, no, I don’t—you can’t.” Her hands were flat on the carpet on one side of his legs and her feet on the other.

  He caressed her bare bottom with his large, callused hand. “You have a great ass, have I mentioned that?” His palm stroking her felt so good in the aftermath of all those orgasms. “With your fair skin, my handprints are going to look very pretty.”

  Hand prints? Oh, Lord, no one had mentioned the man was a sadist. “Why do you want to hurt me? I’m not…”

  “Not a masochist. I know, pet. It’s like this—when aroused, many people will process pain as pleasure. Of course, not everyone does, so we’ll explore and see where you fit on the continuum. This will be a bit of punishment and perhaps a lot of fun.”

  Fun? She’d never seen “spanking” listed in the dictionary under the definition of “fun”.

  He reached between her legs. At the sound of a familiar hum, she realized he’d positioned the wand vibrator to poke up between his thighs. With firm hands, he repositioned her hips, placing her pussy directly over the vibrating head.

  As the vibrations struck her clit, and she jumped. “No. I’m too sensitive.” She squirmed sideways so her nub of nerves wasn’t touching the device.

  “No worries. I’m going to move all the blood away from your pussy.” His hand came down on her ass with a stinging whack.

  “Ow!” Twisting, she put her hand over her butt to guard it.

  “Uh-uh, sweetheart.” He caught her wrist, pinned it to her lower back, and then smacked her harder. Whap, whap.

  Tears filled her eyes and spilled over.

  “I want you to keep both hands on the floor, Josie.” His voice was…level. Firm. No anger—just instruction.

  Even as she choked on a sob, the melting sensation started in the pit of her stomach again. He’d said he would tell her what he wanted. And that he wouldn’t go further than she could take.

  Only…her bottom was stinging.

  But she trusted him.

  Nevertheless, agreeing to be hurt wasn’t easy at all.

  I don’t want to.

  I will.

  She pulled in a breath. “Yessir.” When he released her wrist, she braced her hand on the floor. The sensation of relinquishing control was like opening a fist and feeling the blood flow back into cramped fingers. Achy and warm and wonderful.

  “Good girl. I know that was hard.” He massaged her stinging bottom. “Now breathe through the burn. And, by the way, you have permission to come.”

  Come—during a spanking?

  With hard hands, he shifted her hips—and with his first slap on her bottom, she realized the new position put her clit directly over the device.

  Stinging spanks rained over her burning skin—and from under her, the vibrator hammered her clit, sending her up and up. Gradually, the pain melted into a roiling hot pulse of sensation, driving her even higher.

  Each smack on her bottom was like a hot wave of pleasure. Her clit was swelling, throbbing, and oh, she needed to come so badly that her body shook. “Pleeeeeze.”

  “All right, pet. I’ll help you out since you asked so nicely.” Chuckling, he gripped her hips, moving her…an inch.

  The vibrator was suddenly buzzing on the other side of her clit—and the room flashed white. “Oh, oh, oh, ohhhhh.” Not only her pussy but her entire body detonated, every cell and nerve shaking in pleasure, and the sensations surged through her until lights danced like stars in her head.

  “Pretty Josie,” he murmured.

  He lifted her, twisted, and laid her on the bed, belly down.

  Curling her fingers in the quilt, she lay there, shaking in the aftermath of her climax. Over the hammering of her pulse in her ears came the sound of his zipper and the crinkle of a condom wrapper.

  She turned her head to watch.

  Rising from a thatch of closely trimmed blond hair, his cock was straight and tall—and thick. A friend had a hypothesis that the thickness of a man’s wrists indicated the girth of his shaft.

  As Holt rolled on the condom, Josie studied his muscular forearms…and solid wrists. Her friend might be right.

  The mattress compressed as Holt moved her legs apart and knelt between her thighs. “Up you come, pet.” He gripped her waist firmly and lifted her onto her hands and knees.

  When his cock pressed against her entrance, ferocious pleasure sizzled through the over-sensitive tissues. Oh God, her insides were still quivering from the last time she came.

  He eased in an inch—and then penetrated her with one decisive thrust.

  The sheer shock of his thick intrusion made her gasp. His size was almost unbearable,
and her swollen pussy pulsed in protest…then growing pleasure.

  “Easy, pet.” Reaching around her, he slid his fingers over her puffy labia.

  As his fingers tormented and teased her clit, everything inside her clamped down around his shaft, harder, harder, and suddenly, she came again in a rolling hard orgasm. “Oh, God.”

  Her arms gave out, dropping her onto her elbows. Her lungs burned as she gasped for air.

  With an implacable grip, he held her there, impaled on his cock as pleasure simmered through her whole body. Through the surge of blood in her ears, she could hear his low, resonant laughter.

  “You come so beautifully,” he murmured. “It’s a pleasure to watch.” Leaning forward, he ran his hands over her back, around to fondle her breasts, and back down to take a new grip on her hips.

  He pulled back, and she shuddered at the slick friction in her sensitized pussy. He pressed in and out a few times, the sensation growing more and more amazing. “Perfect. Brace yourself, pet.”

  Just the words in his smoky voice made her shiver…

  He slowly increased to a hard hammering rhythm, and then his powerful hands were rocking her forward and yanking her back onto his shaft. The room filled with the slapping sounds of wet flesh. His grip was unbreakable, making her take what he gave her at a relentless, forceful pace.

  He was using her for his own pleasure, and there was something so…satisfying about that.

  “You feel incredible,” he murmured. He slowed slightly, stroking his hands over her body again, up and down, and then over her well-spanked bottom.

  Hissing, she flinched.

  “A bit tender, pet?” He closed his big hands on her buttocks, squeezing the tender flesh.

  The stinging, burning pain swept over her—and her pussy clenched his cock so hard that he laughed.

  She loved making him laugh—his hands tightened on her, and he hammered into her, finally pressing deep, deeper—and she loved hearing him come with a throaty growl even more.

  Josie was incredible. She’d given him her body, let him bind her, spank her, fuck her, let go of control, submitted. Her response to submitting to him was humbling. Gratifying. She trusted him.

  Cared for him.

  He pulled her into his arms, needing to hold her for a minute, to breathe her in. When she laid her head on his shoulder, contentment swept through him, and he rubbed his cheek against her hair.

  God, she was amazing. And he loved her.

  Jesus, he really did. This was what he’d wanted with others and never found—she not only cared for him, but she’d also given him this profound trust. He didn’t feel deserving, but he’d protect her gift with everything in his power. His arms closed more forcefully around her, and rather than pulling away, she cuddled closer.

  Yeah, he could stay right here with her in his arms…forever.

  Unfortunately, eventually, he had to move. After disposing of the condom, he brought back a warm washcloth and ignored her objections as he cleaned her sensitive pussy and ass. Sure, she could do it—as she said—but why deny himself the pleasure?

  He’d found a bruise ointment on her bathroom counter—probably for Carson. This time, it would be for her. “Hold still, sweetheart. This will help keep you from bruising.” Sitting beside her, he rolled her toward him onto her face…and massaged the medication into her reddened ass.

  “Hey! No, stop. Dammit.” Her voice was so husky from multiple orgasms that even her outraged protests were sexy.

  He grinned. Was it perverse to enjoy seeing the red handprints he’d left on her white skin?

  Years ago, when he’d entered the BDSM lifestyle, leaving marks had made him feel like the biggest asshole in the world. Now, he’d learned the right amount of pain could open the way to a truly mind-blowing orgasm for a woman.

  And the removal of a submissive’s control over her own pain and pleasure could enhance the bond between them.

  As it had tonight.

  Did Josie realize trust went both ways?

  Setting the ointment on the nightstand, he finished stripping and joined her on the bed. She was a soft bundle as he pulled her against him and put his arm under her head.

  She blinked, her eyes slightly red from tears and sleepy with satisfaction. “You’re an evil, mean person. I think you enjoyed applying that ointment far too much.”

  “I did.” He kissed her lightly.

  Her tiny snort of exasperation made him grin. As she looked up at him, her brows drew together, her gaze focusing on the rough scarring beneath his chin. With a light touch, she ran her fingers over it.

  “Josie.”

  Not answering, she pushed herself up. Her face showed no expression…at first…as she traced his scar from temple to jaw. Touched the burn scar on his neck. Bent to kiss the shiny burn scars on his shoulders.

  His heart was melting inside his chest.

  Exploring further, she found more burns. The still healing, slightly raised knife slices on his forearms. A few marks from his childhood when he hadn’t dodged his aunt’s boyfriend fast enough.

  Her lip quivered when she touched the long knife wound on his belly. “Oh, God, Holt. You’ve had such a painful life.”

  Damn, she was killing him. “Sweetheart, they’re just surface scars.” He pulled her down on top of him, all soft tenderhearted woman. “You have just as many, but they’re buried deep.”

  “I…probably. They might be healing up a bit, though.”

  “I’m pleased.” That was what he hoped to achieve. He ran his fingers through her hair. “And I’m pleased with what we did tonight. You enjoyed yourself, it seemed.”

  “Mmm.” Her lips curved slightly as she laid her hand on his cheek. “Honestly, I think I’m in shock.”

  “Well…” He put his hand on top of hers, holding her palm against his cheek. Would this make her retreat? Yet honesty and open communication were a Dom’s duty. “I think I’m in love.”

  Joy. Yes, he could see happiness bloom in her eyes before she shut it all down. “No. No, you can’t—”

  “Mmm. I’m pretty sure I can.”

  Her eyes were huge. Appalled. “No, Sir.”

  Yes, he had more work in front of him. “Josie, I love you.” Gently, he pushed her bangs out of her eyes. “Relax, pet. There’s no hurry, no obligation.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I have a fair notion of how you feel about me, Josie.” If there hadn’t been more than friendship between them, the little subbie would never have let him tie her up or spank her—and she sure wouldn’t have come like that. Because for a woman, an orgasm was the most intimate gift she could give.

  Josie might be submissive, but she was the kind of woman who needed to trust to let go truly. She had opened to him, given him her body and her climaxes.

  More than that, she cared for him. Everything she did showed it.

  But would it be enough to overcome the hurts in her past and her worry about Holt being in Carson’s life?

  Well, he was a patient man, and healing was what he loved to do.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Honestly, Laurent, get over it.” On Friday afternoon, Josie glared at the words on her computer monitor. Redheaded Laurent should be acting like a heroine, working on her fire control. Not gazing into Tigre’s eyes and getting all melty.

  Damn that Tigre anyway. The inspiration she’d used for him was the muscular, blond Thor from the Avengers movies.

  And now Josie had a walking, talking example of the sexy Thunder God living next door.

  “Now, listen to me, girl,” she ordered Laurent in her best authorial voice. “I totally know why you’d fall for Tigre but too bad. No romance. Period.” It didn’t matter if the girl got flutters and weak legs whenever she saw the guy. And there would be no surging joy at words of love.

  Words of love. Josie’s heart did a slow somersault inside her chest. Holt loved her.

  She gave her head a shake—something she’d done so often t
oday that Oma had asked her if she had an earache.

  Not an earache but a heartache. Because Holt was certifiably insane. Deranged. Loco. Crazy as a cuckoo. A few hoses short of a fire truck…oh, that was a good one. She needed to use that on him sometime.

  Only…she shouldn’t see him.

  But she wanted to. Josie yanked at her hair in frustration. Maybe she was the one going insane.

  Surely, his feelings of “love” merely meant he’d gotten caught up in the emotions of sex. And domination. Uzuri’d told her that submissives often got swayed by intense scenes and believed they felt more than a D/s connection.

  Holt was a Dom, true, but…still…maybe he’d been affected by the stupendous sex.

  Right?

  Josie pressed her hand over the ache under her sternum. Hearing him say he loved her had been…staggering.

  And then he hadn’t left after they’d made love. He’d held her in his arms all night. Woke her at dawn with kisses and told her he loved her again, then took her in plain old vanilla missionary style and told her again.

  She’d made him breakfast and…and it had felt so right, having him in the kitchen. Talking over their upcoming days, just acting normal. Teasing him, knowing she’d get pinned against the counter and kissed.

  She pursed her lips, breathing out, and rubbed her chest. He loved her.

  And…God help her, she loved him.

  She bit her lip. If…he broke it off, it would hurt badly.

  But maybe Holt was different. No, she knew Holt was different. He wasn’t anything like her father or Everett. He’d never abandon someone because that person made a mistake. He wouldn’t care more for his reputation than for a person.

  Wouldn’t betray her trust.

  What about Carson? Holt was providing the guy-time her son needed. Her boy deserved to know someone as amazing as Holt.

  Because Holt really was incredible.

  But relationships went south sometimes, just because. For her boy’s sake, she should be careful. Go slow.

  She smiled slightly, feeling an upwelling of hope. She’d see Holt tonight at the Shadowlands and…and maybe afterward? Maybe he’d want to come home with her again?

 

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