Nobody's Hero

by Kallypso Masters

  She tensed and he heard that sexy hitch in her throat. “I…um, I think so, Sir.”

  God love her. He chuckled. “Well, I think maybe we need to start a little slower, kitten. Stand up.” She barely hesitated before standing. “Turn around.” She turned to face him and he lay back on the bed. “Take them off.” His gaze went to his black skivvies.

  Karla hesitated a bit longer this time. She looked down at him and the outline of his rock-hard penis straining against his skivvies. Her tantalizing teeth gave him another idea.

  “Take them off—with your teeth.” God, he knew he’d regret this for the rest of his life, but having her sexy mouth that close to his dick was all he could think about right now.

  She glanced down at him and smiled a shaky smile, then bent over him, bracing herself by placing her hands at either side of his waist, and damned if she didn’t take his waistband between her teeth. Shit. Her fingers warmed on his bare skin and her grip tightened, whether to hold herself steady or both of them, he didn’t know. His dick bobbed against her chin, causing her to stop, pull back, and reassess the situation. So fucking sexy. Then she bent down and took the waistband between her teeth again, pulling it up and over his erection until the head of his dick poked out.

  She pulled back yet again. her face taking on a playful expression. “My, what have we here, Sir?” she teased. Her hand reached down to cup his still-covered balls, then moved up the length of his mostly covered dick until she brushed her thumb over the bare head.

  “Karla, no hands.”

  Ignoring him, her thumb pad rubbed over the notch in the head of his cock, which eagerly bobbed its welcome. “Oh, Sir, it feels like velvet.”

  Fuck. She’d apparently not even touched one before. He was going straight to hell for letting her continue down this path to debauchery, but he couldn’t have stopped her now if he’d wanted to—which he most certainly didn’t want to do.

  “Do you want your first punishment, slave?” Her hand pulled away, as if his dick had become a red hot poker. “Good girl. Now remove them completely.” He gave the command through clenched teeth.

  “Yes, Sir.” Her upper teeth scraped against his dick as they wrapped around the waistband again. All the air left his lungs, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to replace it. So close. What would her hot mouth feel like sheathing his cock?

  Don’t go there, old man.

  The tip of his dick brushed against her nose as she pulled his skivvies a little further down, nearly causing him to lose all control. Rather than take them all the way off, she got sidetracked yet again, which made him throb for her even more. With one tentative hand, she cupped his balls.

  “Augghh.” His hips lifted toward her face. Sweat broke out on Adam’s forehead and he closed his eyes. Sweet Jesus, her hand felt so good on him, the combination of innocent naïveté and hesitant touch an incredible turn-on.

  Rather than tell her what to do or reprimand her, he decided to wait and see what she’d do of her own volition in her first carnal exploration. Her sweet, warm breath on the head of his dick had him straining toward her. For the longest time, she merely stared at his dick, then she wrapped her tiny hand around his girth, over his skivvies, and applied the sweetest pressure. Torture. The woman was fucking torturing him, whether she intended to or not. When had he lost control of this scene?

  She squeezed him and seemed surprised by the strength and muscle in his dick. But she didn’t squeeze his balls or go straight to pumping his cock, as an experienced woman might. Instead, her thumb began stroking the exposed ridge on the head of his cock, back and forth, and he had to reach out and grasp her hand to stop her. Now he needed to slow things down. When she looked up at him, stricken with insecurity and fear, he smiled his encouragement.

  “Kitten, what you’re doing feels so good, I’m afraid I might explode before I’m ready. Let’s take this a little slower, okay?”

  She smiled. “Yes, Sir.” He loved the sense of newfound power she exuded. This woman would make some man very happy someday with her erotic mix of kitten and tiger.

  She latched onto his skivvies again and pulled them down further as he lifted his hips to aid her, but she released them again just below his balls and returned her attention to his now aching dick. Her wide-eyed gaze stared at the length and thickness of his erection, and she furrowed her brows.

  “How did we…?”

  “Don’t worry, kitten. We fit together perfectly.” She looked up at him for reassurance. “We sure did last night and yesterday morning, didn’t we?”

  She smiled and turned her attention back to his privates, her thumb continuing to make that enticing motion. He wanted to let her explore a bit more, but damned if he could hold on for what he’d originally had in mind if she kept touching him like that. When pre-cum lubricated her thumb, increasing the ease with which she could flick over his notch, her eyes opened wider in fascination.

  His cock pulsated in her hand. Slow deep breaths. He tried to practice the techniques he’d learned in martial arts to slow down his heart rate, hoping it would lessen the pulsing in his dick. When she surprised him by letting the tip of her pink tongue tentatively lick him where her thumb had been moments before, he groaned, balling his hands into fists at his sides to keep from thrusting his hips up and ramming his cock down what obviously was her virgin throat.

  As if she were giving him a news bulletin, she paused to look up at him and announced, “You taste salty, Sir.”

  “Karla,” he ground the words out, “get my fucking skivvies off—now.”

  He heard her giggle, which made him even harder, but she obeyed. Finally. He’d have to work on obedience with her soon, although he had to admit he wouldn’t have missed this slow tease for anything. Even if it was the fucking slowest one he’d ever experienced with a woman.

  “Just use your hands.” Having her head anywhere near his at the moment was a tactical disaster waiting to happen. When she finally stripped them the rest of the way off, she knelt on the floor, head between his thighs, waiting for further instructions.

  “Open the drawer in the nightstand and get a condom.” She turned without hesitation and did as he instructed, holding her foil-wrapped find out to him like a trophy.

  “Open it and put it on me.”

  She carefully tore the edge of the foil, as if afraid she might damage its contents, then gingerly pulled the rubber from the pouch. Discarding the foil on the nightstand, she took the rubber in both hands and looked up at him with uncertainty.

  “Just press the center against the tip of my head…dick…penis.” God, he didn’t know what term she’d be comfortable with. Shit. He’d forgotten how new everything would be to her. “Then just roll it down the length of me.”

  Her tiny hands went to work, her deliciously pink tongue protruding from her lips as she concentrated on the task at hand. His bobbing dick didn’t make things any easier for her. But soon she had managed to sheath him, then stood up and smiled down at him as if she’d just conquered Mount Evans.

  Not sure how much longer he could hold out, he ordered, “Straddle me.” He held his hands up to her to help position her on top of him. She stood and climbed up onto the bed. Her knees pressed against the juncture of his waist and hips, her sweet pussy hovering over him. He wasn’t sure how much natural lubricant she had, so he took his dick in hand and tilted his hips up to rub it along her cleft. He moved between her slick folds without impediment, watching as she closed her eyes and threw her head back with abandon when he began to slap his dick against her clit.

  “Ohhh!”

  She was ready. “Now, sit on it.”

  Her eyes flew open and she looked down, searching his face. “Sir?”

  “You’re in control of how fast and how deep. Just ease the tip inside, bob up and down on it a few times, taking me deeper with each stroke until your sweet ass is plastered against my pelvis.”

  It took everything he had not to thrust up and into her when her tight pussy s
lowly began to envelop his head. His upper lip grew wet with the strain to remain still, but he wanted her to get used to him again at her speed, not his. This angle was different from what they’d done before.

  “Oh, my Lord, I feel so full.”

  Sweet Jesus, don’t give me a blow-by-blow. You’re killing me here, woman.

  As she took him deeper, she lowered her upper body over his and rested on her forearms, her hands combing through his short-cropped hair. Her face came down onto his and her tongue licked the rim of his mouth before he opened up and sucked her tongue inside. She soon took control and her tongue stroked in and out, deeper each time, simulating what her pussy was doing to his dick.

  Unable to stop himself, his hands reached out to cup the curves of her ass. He didn’t try to set the pace, but he wanted to enjoy feeling the rise and fall of her ass in his hands as she took him deeper and deeper. At last, he felt her upper thighs brushing against his hips and knew she’d fully seated herself. Her face pulled away and she grinned down at him in triumph.

  His little innocent was not looking particularly innocent at the moment. He felt his dick pulse, and her pussy answered by squeezing around him.

  “I need to move inside you, kitten. Are you ready to ride?”

  Her pupils dilated and she grinned. “Giddyup, Sir.” She lifted herself up and he pulled her hips back down, thrusting himself upside her. The smile left her face. “Oh!”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Her breathy whisper was sexy as hell and all he needed. “Don’t stop…Master Adam.”

  He smiled that she nearly forgot how to address him. He liked that he made her mind turn to mush just about as much as she did his. Needing no further encouragement, he gripped her hips harder and pulled her off him, then impaled her again. She grunted and closed her eyes as he repeated the movements again and again. Soon, she matched his rhythm. Her pussy squeezed him like a vise, released him, and then squeezed again. He increased the tempo even more, slamming her against him. Knowing he was about to come, he reached his right hand between the juncture of their bodies and placed his fingertip over her erect clit.

  “Oh my God!” Karla stopped moving for a moment, but he continued to piston her pussy until soon she was meeting his strokes again. Her incoherent mewlings told him she was nearing the crest.

  “Come with me, baby tiger.”

  On cue, he felt her clit harden even more. Her pussy clenched around him, and she screamed her release just as his dick exploded inside her. He’d never felt anything so mind-blowing in his life and didn’t want the moment to end. For what seemed like forever, his dick twitched inside her as the spasms from her velvet sheath sucked him dry.

  “God, woman. You’re killing me.”

  She collapsed against his chest. “How can that be? I think I died first.”

  “Just the little death.”

  “Petit mort. Now I know what they mean.”

  “That’s the one, kitten. Best way to go.”

  He stroked her hair with one hand and her back with the other. Her weight on top of him felt so fucking good. His cock still throbbed inside her. Her pussy continued to pulse with tiny, intermittent aftershocks. It wouldn’t take much for him to be ready to go again, but that wasn’t a good idea.

  He didn’t want to break contact just yet, but he wanted to get rid of the condom before they went back to sleep. “I’ll be right back.” He tried to roll her off of him and pull out of her warm sheath, but she moaned and her body grew heavier. She’d fallen asleep. Damn.

  He stroked her hair. “That’s it, kitten. Sleep now.” He reached out and pulled the sheet and blanket over her naked body and soon fell asleep with her.

  * * *

  “Get the fuck off me, you son of a bitch!”

  Karla’s eyes opened as her world spun out of control. She was thrown onto her back and looked up to find Adam holding her hands above her head, his fingertips biting into her wrists. His body pressed hers into the mattress. The crazed look in his eyes told her this wasn’t the Adam she loved. He must be in the middle of some kind of nightmare.

  “Adam, wake up! It’s me, Karla.” Her heart thudded against her chest. The rage in his face terrified her. What if he didn’t wake up? Would he hurt her? She needed to get through to him. “Adam, you’re dreaming. You’re safe. No one wants to hurt you.”

  He blinked several times, his breathing harsh to her ears. At last, his focus cleared and intensified. She expelled her pent-up breath.

  “Adam? Are you okay?” He continued to suck air in and out through his mouth, then looked up at her hands and loosened his grip. She might not have gotten bruises from their BDSM play in the last couple of days, but she'd certainly have them now.

  “Oh, God.” He rolled off her and stared up at the ceiling. “Did I hurt you?”

  “No, Master. You were dreaming.”

  “Fucking nightmare.” He rubbed his hands over his eyes as if to wash away the images. “I need to hit the head and get rid of this condom.”

  Karla realized she’d fallen asleep on top of him right after they’d made love. She’d never felt so relaxed and safe. But was her weight on him what triggered the nightmare? Or was it more than a nightmare? Did Adam suffer from PTSD? When he returned from the bathroom, naked and beautiful, she turned onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “Maybe if you talk about it…”

  “Not now. I just don’t want to talk about it.” He rounded the bed and lay back down, but kept his distance from her.

  She rolled over, closer to him. “It can help sometimes. Take away its power. Just like you got me to do when I had nightmares about Ian.”

  “This is different.”

  “How so?”

  “It’s me.” He grinned over at her, but she ignored his attempt to deflect her concern.

  She reached out and stroked his cheek. “Adam, I’m a good listener. Try me.”

  He placed his hand over hers, squeezed it, then moved her hand away from his face. “It was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t even make any sense.”

  “Tell me about it. Maybe I can help sort it out. What did you dream about?”

  “Karla, I’m not going to talk about it with you. Now drop it. That’s an order.”

  His words stung, and she pulled her hand back. Clearly, he didn’t want to open up to her about anything personal. He never did.

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “I think it’s best if you sleep in your own bed the rest of the night.”

  Tears filled her eyes. He didn’t want her here. A knot formed in her throat and Karla needed to get away before she embarrassed herself with tears. She reached for Adam's robe and started toward the door.

  “I’m sorry, Karla. It’s not you. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

  She opened the door and turned toward him. “Too late for that, Adam. You already did.” Not waiting for a response, she exited as quickly as she could.

  By the time she reached her room and opened the chest of drawers to pull out a long t-shirt, she was shivering. She turned on the baseboard heat, donned the shirt, and crawled under the quilts, but even the flannel sheets Adam had bought to help keep her warm didn’t come close to the warmth she felt when curled against his body.

  Sleep was a lost cause at this point, so she piled the pillows up behind her and picked up the spiral notebook and pencil she kept on the nightstand for journaling, song-writing, rambling, and list-making. Propping the pad against her tented knees, she started scribbling the lyrics to some songs that had begun rattling around in her head. The songs were far grittier than anything she’d sung in the New York Goth club or even the Masters at Arms Clubs before. Some of the songs glorified inflicting pain, spoke of rough sex, but mosly it was about control—the surrender and acceptance of control.

  A soft knock at the door pulled her away from her work several pages later, and she looked over at the clock. Six-forty-three. She’d been working for more than
an hour, so consumed by the composition that time had stood still. She hadn’t had a writing session like this since before Ian died. Maybe her creative fog was lifting. Or maybe writing a song about her frustration with Master Adam Montague was just the thing she needed right now.

  The knock came again and she realized Adam wasn’t going to go away. He must have seen the light under the door.

  “Come in.”

  The door opened and he stepped inside. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” Karla didn’t look at him, keeping her steady gaze on the idle pencil in her hand, trying not to show that he'd hurt her. “And you?”

  “Other than being a royal pain in the ass, you mean?”

  Karla turned toward the doorway to see Adam grinning. Why did he have to be so damned adorable when she really wanted to stay mad at him? “Yeah, well, that’s a given.”

  “A good slave wouldn’t agree so quickly.” He sobered. “Come here.” He gave her a smoldering look that caused her stomach to go ka-thunk again. “It wasn’t a suggestion, kitten.”

  With a sigh, Karla laid the notebook and pencil on the nightstand, wincing at the strain in her neck muscles from the awkward position she’d held for the last hour. She stood and closed the space between them, looking Adam in the eyes. She wasn’t quite ready to submit totally again just yet. Maybe he’d cut her some slack, her being such a new slave.

  Adam’s hands reached out and cupped her face. “I know you care. I don’t mean to shut you out. All I can remember are random bits of nothing. They don’t make sense. I can’t even make enough sense out of them to describe them to you.”

  Karla placed her open hand against his bare pec. Wasn’t the man ever cold? “Were you a child or an adult?”

  “What?”

  “In the nightmare. Did you feel like you were a child or an adult?”

  Adam looked away. “A teenager.”

  “Who were you pushing away?”

  “My father.”

  “The alcoholic?” The one who abused his mother.

  “Look, I know what you’re trying to do, but I just want to forget about it.”