His to Love (Titans Quarter Book 2)

by Sierra Cartwright

  Trevor left her only long enough to exchange the flogger for the dragon’s tail, a short whip of types, with a single piece of leather at the end, fashioned into a shallow V. He also picked up the clamps they’d played with.

  With his hands and his mouth, he tormented her breasts, sucking her nipples. Her lips parted, with pleasure? From apprehension of what was to come? Maybe a mixture of the two? If he was doing this right, she would be lost in the overwhelming experience created by the simultaneous collision of multiple thoughts and sensations that resulted in sensory overload.

  He placed each clamp, then thumbed the tiny circular bar a bit higher, tightening it so it didn’t slip off while he was using the whip on her.

  She danced a little in place, but she didn’t try to pull away or use a safe word.

  Trevor dampened a finger to play with her pussy and smiled when he discovered she was drenched in her own arousal.

  “Oh, Trevor. Sir.”

  The sound of his name, breathlessly broken into two syllables, thrilled him. This had gone far beyond an ordinary scene for him. Her physical and auditory responses were the ultimate high.

  Once he had both tweezers adjusted, he began flicking her still-pink body—front, back, side—with tiny bites from the dragon’s tail.

  With each, she murmured, her words no longer intelligible.

  The music around them rose to a crescendo, and he increased the intensity and randomness of his strokes to match it.

  She whimpered and cried out. A sheen of sweat covered her body, and her long hair flowed down her back.

  As the vocalist climbed toward his stunning conclusion, light glinted off her collar.

  The song’s final notes hung in the air, then crashed around them. He dropped the whip, sending it clattering to the floor, and he reached between her legs to finger-fuck her and to play with her clit while she screamed her orgasm.

  The music trailed off into silence; then the only sounds were their ragged breaths and her soulful sobs.

  He dispensed of the clamps and had her released from her cuffs and blindfold in mere seconds; then he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the couch. He sat with her in his lap, arms wrapped around her. Her luxurious hair fell around her face like a veil, and he brushed back the strands.

  She was looking at him through hazy eyes, wide with wonder.

  For the first time in his life, he experienced a moment that he never wanted to end. With the same sort of certainty and clarity that he’d called on to make a success of his life, he knew that he would do whatever it took to make Shelby his.

  And it started with him claiming her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss where he gave rise to the feral nature that she’d suddenly awakened in him.

  Chapter Eight

  I can’t wait to suck on your clit.

  Heat scalded Shelby’s cheeks, and she flipped her phone over, screen side down, so that none of her colleagues could see Trevor’s sexy words. Which was ridiculous. Even though she was seated at the conference table, the closest person was several feet away.

  She’d known better than to sneak a peek.

  More than anyone, he knew how to arouse her, and not just on a physical level. He appealed to her on a mental level as well. Telling her what he planned to do when she arrived home made her reel as his fantasy unwound in her mind.

  And he was as good as his word.

  How was it possible that her life had changed so much in such a short amount of time?

  Saturday night, she’d gone out with friends, intending to watch some scenes. Instead, she was in the middle of her week as a submissive, and it all seemed so normal.

  At his house on Sunday afternoon, he’d introduced her to his dungeon. She’d endured the sweet torment of nipple clamps, along with the delicate bite from the dragon’s tail. But the wonderment of her own surrender had taken her by surprise. Unlike a previous experience, she’d recognized she was safe, emotionally as well as physically.

  After the scene ended, he cared for her with such exquisite tenderness that she relaxed completely.

  His care and concern extended beyond their sexy times. In the mornings, before she left for work, he made her breakfast and poured strong coffee in a to-go cup. At least once a day, he messaged her to see how she was doing. When she took a lunch break, he called.

  Even more heavenly, he took care of dinner as well.

  All she had to do was embrace the role she’d accepted for the week.

  Each afternoon, when she arrived home, she followed his instructions to strip once the door closed behind her. She lowered herself to her knees—much more gracefully than she once had—and waited for him. Invariably he gave her a few moments alone to leave the workday behind her.

  Even though it had only been a few days, she looked forward to being with him. Everything they shared gave her a peace she hadn’t known she was missing.

  On the heels of that thought came another, less welcome one.

  What was she going to do at the end of the week?

  Shelby had always enjoyed her life. Her work was fulfilling, and she looked forward to spending time with her friends on the weekends. But still, there were times she craved companionship, and she hadn’t been aware of just how much she wanted that until the past few days.

  It was nice to have someone ask how her day was, and she liked the way they sat together on the dock at the end of their evening. Conversation ebbed and flowed, much like the water lapping against the pilings. Monday night, they’d taken out his two-person kayak and they’d listened as the summer evening came alive with the sounds of frogs. It was a memory she’d cherish—among dozens of others.

  “Shelby?” Louise, the most senior member of the team, asked.

  She shook her head to clear it, aware that her colleagues were looking at her expectantly. “I’m sorry?”

  “Marlene is out next Wednesday. Can you cover her client?”

  “Uhm…” She shuffled through the papers in front of her. It was so unlike her to lose focus. Looking at her phone during staff meetings definitely needed to be off-limits in the future. Once she checked her calendar and saw it was free of appointments, she nodded. “What time?”

  “Ten.”

  Next week. She’d be back at home, living her regular life then. The realization shot a pang or sadness through her.

  “I’ll email you the file,” Marlene said, reaching for her phone.

  “Thanks.” After calendaring the appointment, Shelby pushed away her errant feelings. What she was experiencing with Trevor wasn’t reality. It was an inexplicable, fantastical week, but in a few days, it would end. No matter what it took, she needed to remember that.

  “You’ll be back on Friday?” Louise asked.

  “Yes. I’ve got the Lemieux divorce.”

  “Let us know if you need help. Any other topics for discussion?” When Louise was met with silence, she smiled. “Good. We’re adjourned. Early for once.”

  Shelby shuffled her papers back into a file folder, then dashed to her office to wrap up the final details so she could get back home to Trevor and their evening ahead with Fiona and Andrew.

  The drive was another pleasure she’d miss when their time was up. As she left the city behind, the traffic thinned, and she caught the first view of water in the distance. As usual, the closer she drew to it, the more she relaxed.

  Then, as she turned onto Trevor’s street, her pulse sped up.

  She never knew what to expect, but his bluntly sexual message had her on edge.

  As she climbed from the car, a cacophony of barks rent the air. Bruno leaped over a neighbor’s fence and headed for her at full speed.

  In his enthusiasm, he had her momentarily pinned against the car, paws on her shoulders, in a type of an overgrown puppy hug.

  “Are you okay down there?” Trevor shouted out.

  She laughed. “Saying hello to the welcoming committee!”

  Once he’d greeted her, Bruno bounded away.

&nbs
p; Maybe she needed to adopt a dog of her own. Receiving this kind of reception every day would make going home much more enjoyable.

  She climbed the stairs, and Trevor was waiting for her, arms folded over his black T-shirt. Her steps faltered as he swept his gaze over her, lingering on her lower body for a fleeting moment. Right now, she had no doubt she was his submissive. Whatever he wanted, she would give him.

  Silently, he opened the door, and she preceded him inside.

  Since he hadn’t countermanded the orders he’d given her earlier in the week, she placed her bag on a nearby table and kicked off her sandals.

  Making her a bit nervous, he closed the door, then stood there with his arms folded, watching, waiting.

  Shelby unzipped her skirt, then wiggled out of it, leaving it in a pile on the floor. Within seconds, the rest of her clothes followed.

  Once she was naked, she knelt, then lowered her head.

  He didn’t keep her waiting long. “You didn’t respond to my text message.”

  She hazarded a quick glance up at him.

  He was grinning.

  “It…uhm. Bad timing, Sir.”

  “Ah. And did you have any reaction?”

  Embarrassment flooding her, she nodded.

  “And how is your clit now?”

  “Still a little sore from last night, Sir.” Because he’d brushed it twice with strands from the flogger.

  “Good. Then it will feel even worse after I get done with it in a few minutes.”

  She dug her fingernails into her palms as a distraction from his terrifying threat.

  “Please come with me.”

  With a tiny frown, she rose and followed him to the living room where he took a seat on the couch.

  “I want your clit level with my mouth.”

  “You…” She tipped her head to the side, trying to figure out how to follow his direction. “What?”

  “I figured one of us should be comfortable.”

  And it obviously wasn’t going to be her.

  Trevor offered a hand, and she accepted it.

  “You may want to start by standing on the cushions. One foot at a time.”

  She took a single awkward step up, and her heel sank into the squishy surface. More than a bit wobbly, she tightened her grip on him and lifted her other leg so that she was straddling him. Straddling him was one of the most awkward things she’d ever done. Once she released him, he placed his hands on her hips to steady her.

  “Not all that difficult.”

  Easy for him to say. She had no sense of balance, and this was lewd and uncomfortable.

  “Fucking sexy as hell. I can see all of you. It’ll be even better when you bend your knees.”

  Was she brave enough to do that?

  “Now, Shelby. Or I’ll add extra time.”

  Instantly she followed his obscene order. “I’m afraid of toppling over.”

  “I won’t let that happen.”

  It took her several seconds of digging in her toes and adjusting her position to find something that worked—at least somewhat.

  “Press your thighs against the back of the couch.”

  Once she did, he released her. She wobbled frantically before tightening her leg muscles.

  “Well done. Now I want you to part your pussy lips for me.”

  “I’m serious. I can’t do it without falling over.”

  “You can. I’ve got you.”

  “But—”

  “Shelby. Nothing I said was open for debate.”

  His tone, gruff and relentless, shot arousal through her. “Yes, Sir.” With her hands shaking, as much from fear as anticipation, she spread herself wide.

  “What did I say I was going to do to you?”

  “Suck…” She gulped. “Suck my clit, Sir.”

  “Should I start by licking it?”

  That wasn’t actually a question, she knew.

  “Come a little closer, sub. And tell me again what my text message said.”

  After bending her knees a little more, she responded. “You said you couldn’t wait to suck my clit.”

  “Yeah.” He slid a finger inside her already damp pussy. “That’s exactly right.” Then he coated her with her own juices, making her slick, making her cry out her arousal.

  Despite her earlier protests, she realized she was perfectly safe where she was. He had a hand around her waist, and her body weight against the couch back was keeping her supported.

  “I love having your cunt in my face.”

  His filthy words seared her.

  Without warning, he licked her clit. She shivered.

  “Keep yourself spread.”

  He licked, then sucked, taking the needy, achy nub into his mouth.

  “Oh Sir!” It was so deliciously awful, all pleasure wrapped in sensual pain that sent the world spinning.

  He was relentless, driving her to an orgasm, then a second that happened so fast that she didn’t know where one ended and the next began.

  When she knew she couldn’t survive another moment, he released the pressure slightly, soothing with tongue and his lips, allowing her to breathe before sucking on her even harder than before.

  She was somewhere in a deep, black fog when his soothing voice reached her.

  “Your responses are so damn perfect for me, Shelby. You can relax.” He gently took her hands and moved them from her pussy.

  It took her a few seconds to return to her body. She wasn’t sure where she’d been, but stars were swimming behind her eyes, and he was holding her around the waist. “That…” Where was the word she wanted?

  “Hmm?”

  “Hurt.”

  “Which was why you came seven times, I’m sure.”

  Seven? After two, she’d no longer been capable of thinking.

  He helped her to untangle their bodies; then he drew her into his lap and cradled her against him.

  How was it possible that being naked in his arms while he was fully dressed seemed so natural?

  Without a word, he stroked her hair and waited while she regained her breath.

  “That was…” Mind-blowing. How did he keep doing that? Taking an everyday experience and turning it into something magical?

  “Yeah. It was.”

  Even though she could pull away anytime, and would with any other man, she remained there, ear pressed to his chest, reassured the steady thud of his heartbeat.

  “My hand is itching to spank your gorgeous ass, but that will have to wait until after our guests leave.”

  Blinking, she pushed back from him. “I forgot!” Fiona and Andrew would be arriving soon.

  “Go put on your swimming suit. I have dinner ready for you. Boat’s already loaded with snacks, wine, beer, and water.”

  “You’ve thought of it all.” She reluctantly eased herself from his lap.

  For good measure he gave her right buttock a sharp smack, and she yelped.

  “A taste to hold me until later.”

  Shelby snatched up her clothes in one hand before dashing toward the stairs.

  Halfway up, he called out. “Shelby?”

  Curling her fingers around the banister, she stopped and turned back to look at him.

  He was still seated, and his eyes were steely. “And wear something over it. Shorts and a T-shirt.” A possessive growl sliced through his words

  She’d had half her rear exposed at the club last Saturday, and now he wanted her covered? Not that she would just wear the skimpy suit, but his tone shocked her, in a delicious way.

  “I didn’t hear your answer.”

  Fighting back a grin at his unexpected demand, she offered a small salute. “Yes, Sir.”

  Once she was upstairs, she gave in to the smile and spun a small circle. At this moment, she was happier than she remembered being in years.

  Then, aware of the clock ticking, she shook her head and hurried toward the closet to change.

  Within two minutes, she rejoined him in the kitchen.

 
As she walked in, he dragged his gaze from her chest to her knees before nodding. “Chardonnay?”

  “I’d love some.”

  He poured her a glass and offered it to her.

  “Thank you.” After raising it toward him, she took a sip of the crisp, fruity wine.

  “Have a seat.”

  He’d already prepared a plate for her, with a baked chicken breast and side salad. “Really, I could get used to this.”

  “So could I.”

  The air thickened, preternaturally still.

  She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t dare hope.

  One of them had to shatter this sudden intimacy, and since her nerves were suddenly shattered, she took a second sip of wine before rolling back her shoulders and shimmying onto the barstool. “You’re not eating?”

  “I already did before getting the boat ready.”

  “Well then, double thank you.”

  As she carved off a slice of the chicken, he rinsed a plate. “It’s difficult to watch you work while I’m being pampered.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Believe me, Shelby. This is exactly how I want things.”

  A small shudder went through her.

  “Exactly how I want things.” He picked up a dishcloth to wipe down the counters.

  Was there anything sexier than a man in the kitchen?

  Well. Yes, definitely when it came to him. No matter what he did, she was attracted to him.

  “How’s dinner?”

  Shaken from her thoughts, she took a bite of the Cajun-spiced chicken. Her mouth watered at the explosion of taste. “Oh God, Trevor. This is amazing.”

  “You’re an appreciative audience.”

  “I mean it. Sincerely. It’s perfect. Just the right amount of cayenne. Hot, without being overly so.”

  “Even if you didn’t like it, I doubt you’d say so.” He turned around.

  “You could be right. But in this case, it really is divine.”

  “I’m glad you’re pleased.” He wiped his hands before putting the cloth down and excusing himself to gather sunscreen and hats.

  After a few more bites, she covered her plate and stored it in the refrigerator. Seconds later, excited barks rent the air. Bruno’s early-warning system ensured no one arrived unannounced.