He ended the kiss and faced her with an evil grin. “You’re not allowed to have an orgasm with the butterfly.” Getting to his feet, he stood before her with his hard cock pointed at her lips. “Open up, babe. I’m going to fuck that gorgeous little smart mouth.”
Like before, he started slowly, letting her wet his length. Once he could slip in and out, he gripped her head and took over. Amy relaxed her jaw and did her best to accommodate his pace. He played with her, going fast for a bunch of shallow thrusts only to slow down for a few deeper ones.
She tried to ignore the vibration of the butterfly against her clit, but it felt so good that she couldn’t. And when Jordan cried out with a soft exhale and came, she no longer had that to distract her. She hoped he would either remove the butterfly or let her come, but he merely collapsed on the bed with a satisfied smile and stared up at her.
“Jordan, I—”
“No.”
“Daddy, I’m so very close to coming.”
“Toughen up, babe. Breathe through the urge.”
A ticking started in her core, and that meant she was close to losing control. “Oh, Jordan, please!”
Still sporting that devilish grin, he reached up and tweaked her nipple. It hurt, but it took her mind off the pleasure spiraling hotter and hotter.
“Oh, Daddy, please! Please say I can come.” She twisted and writhed, dangling helplessly from the rope. The vibrations stopped. Amy panted as the urgency receded. She was sad to see it go, but happy that she wasn’t going to disappoint her Daddy.
“No, babe, you can’t come yet.” He sat up, bent over the edge of the bed, and fished something else from his bag. Two cylinders, each with a pink twisty thing at the top that looked like it would turn on a hose, lay on his palm. “Do you know what these are?”
She shook her head.
“Suction cups. I have much larger ones at home that I will eventually use on your boobs. These will only fit your nipples.” Without waiting for her to react, he sucked one nipple to wet it and slipped the cylinder over it. Then he twisted the pink thing. “Tell me when it’s too much.”
Amy watched the cylinder suck her nipple into it, distending it and forcing it to fit the shape of the device. She felt the suction differently from when he used his mouth. It pulled deeper, tugging lines in the backs of her breast clear to her pussy and even down through her legs. It didn’t hurt, and yet it hurt. Amy had never felt anything like it, and the sensations overwhelmed her. “Oh, God.”
Jordan chuckled as he pushed a strand of hair away from her eye.
She writhed, but her movements were limited by the bindings holding her in place. Her mouth opened and closed because she couldn’t string any more words together. He dialed it back a quarter turn, and the sensation settled on pleasurable. “Right there. That’s perfect.”
He chuckled. “Looks like I know what to do when you get mouthy. One more. Breathe, babe. I can’t have you passing out on me.”
She forced herself to inhale and exhale, and some of the feeling in her nipple dimmed. But that was okay because he cranked the other suction cylinder, and that invisible cord tingled all the way to her crotch. She exhaled in short puffs. “There. Right there, Daddy.”
He stopped and surveyed his work. “Some people prefer clamps, but I like these. When I take them off, your nipples will stay dark and swollen for a few hours. And when I play with them, they’ll be extra sensitive.”
This time when he slid off the bed, he put his bag on it. She couldn’t see what toy he selected next, but it didn’t matter. He was going to tease and torment her until he wanted to see her climax, and because he’d just come, he didn’t feel the same urgency she did.
It was the pinwheel. He rolled it across the fleshy parts of her ass and down the backs of her thighs, over her calves, and across the bottom of her feet. It tickled, and she laughed, which jiggled her breasts and made the suction cylinders pull on her poor nipples. He changed sides, treating her other leg and foot to the same pleasure. Back and forth he went, making her laugh even though it caused her to groan at the spikes of pain that tugged at her nipples.
Just when she thought she’d go out of her mind, he changed devices. She recognized the feather and the flogger with the metal tips that scratched across her skin. He alternated devices as he played all over her body, spending time on her legs, her arms and torso between the ropes, and her breasts. Her head began to spin and float, the way it eventually did whenever he engaged in sensory play.
She barely noticed him removing the cylinders. Needlelike pain registered in her nipples, but it came from a distance. She closed her eyes for a second, and when she opened them, he had the deerskin flogger, and he was carefully whipping her breasts. The falls flashed in front of her and caressed her tenderized skin. Her nipples felt like twin points of fire in a sea of heat. She focused on them, and that drew her out of subspace and back to Jordan.
When he stopped, the heady feelings surfed on the roar of blood rushing through her body. Amy could feel every inch of every nerve ending dance on the electrified sea. He said something, but it was like after the bomb went off—she could only see his lips move, and his volume was no match for the white noise flooding her ears. She stared blankly; her vocal cords and facial muscles seemed to be paralyzed.
He moved out of her field of vision, and she felt the bed dip behind her. The knots at her sides loosened as he tugged, and soon the dragonfly sleeve that had bound her arms fell away. He rubbed her shoulders, finding the tight places and massaging them with an expert touch. By the time he finished, Amy’s faculties had mostly returned. She felt him unhook the carabiner from the back of her corselet, and when he reached for the knot to undo it, she put her hand over his.
“Please leave it, Daddy. My shoulders are happy for the relief, but the corselet is comfortable, and it makes me feel extra sensual.”
He hugged her from behind, and Amy let her head fall against his chest as she luxuriated in his embrace. He held her for a moment, and then he guided her face to look up at him. His strong fingers gripped her jaw, and he kissed her hungrily. “I need to be inside you.”
She gave him her best come-hither smile. “I’d really like that.”
“Presentation pose, face-down. I’ll be right back.”
Amy assumed the position gingerly. Trying to extend her arms above her head revealed that her shoulder joints were sore. It felt a lot better if she held them in a diamond shape around her head.
Jordan returned quickly. “That’s not quite the pose, babe.”
“I know. My shoulders are sore from being bound, and this doesn’t hurt.”
“Sore? Did the sleeve hurt? I could have modified the position of your arms. Why didn’t you call yellow?”
He was upset. Though she couldn’t see his face, she heard it in his voice. He’d told her repeatedly that he wouldn’t be mad at her for safewording, but he would be angry if she needed to safeword and didn’t. “It just started hurting. It’ll be okay in a little while. I think I’ll start doing yoga or something if you’re going to keep tying me up like this. Please tell me that you’re going to keep tying me up like this?”
She felt his hands on her shoulders. He gripped the fleshy part as he tested the movement of her arm. “Tying you up, yes, but maybe we’ll dial it back and work up to this. Later today, I’m going to give you some stretching exercises and make it a daily task.”
“Thank you. I promise to do them.”
He released her shoulder. “You’re not injured, but we have to be careful. Keep your arms like you had them or put them down at your sides.”
She kept them how she had them. He ran his hands over her arms and down her back, and she felt a tug at her back entrance. She’d utterly forgotten about the butt plug. It was gone quickly, and he wiped away the lube with a moist towelette. She heard foil rip, and her entire body relaxed. At long last, he was going to fuck her.
And then she felt something hard and plastic nudge her vaginal o
pening. She was so wet that it didn’t need additional lubrication to slide in. The thing came to life, and she identified a vibrator. Why would he say he needed to be inside her, and then use a vibrator? The answer hit her a second before she felt his cock at her back entrance.
“Don’t move, babe. This shouldn’t hurt, but it may feel uncomfortable until you get used to it. Take a deep breath, and now let it out slowly.”
As she exhaled, he pushed past the tight muscle guarding her anus. It didn’t hurt at all, and it wasn’t uncomfortable. A cold heat started at the base of her spine, splintering in all directions as it traveled upward. The vibrator in her pussy suddenly felt bigger.
“I’m all the way in. Tell me your color.”
“Green. I’m so fucking green I could explode.”
He chuckled. “Great. You have permission to climax as many times as you can. I want to hear you, babe. Got it?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He withdrew almost all the way and plunged back inside. The cold heat turned molten, and it was suddenly everywhere. She cried out, but the sound never made it past her lips. He fucked her hard and fast, and it was so much more intense than when he’d fucked her pussy with this much urgency.
Her hands became claws that gripped and tore at the bedding, and she buried her face in the covers because she couldn’t halt the shrieks of pleasure ripping from her core. Even that first time with Jordan, she hadn’t been this loud. The first orgasm—the one that had been hovering at the edge for so long—rocked her system. As he buried himself in her over and over, the orgasm lengthened and grew. It went on and on, robbing her of sanity and awareness.
She had no idea when it stopped, but she woke up with her limbs entangled with his and his face nestled against her breasts. The vibrator lay on the bed next to them. “That was incredible.”
“Yep. No doubt about it. I’m a highly skilled lover.” Except to hug her tighter, he didn’t move. “You’re fucking amazing, babe. I want to marry you.”
Joking or not, his statement shocked the post-coital languor out of her body. “What?”
This time he lifted his head and opened his eyes to meet her gaze. “I want the world to know that you’re mine.”
“Jordan, this is moving a little fast.”
The corners of his mouth turned down. “We’ve spent the last year getting to know each other and developing a close friendship. And now we know we’re compatible on all other levels as well. I love you, Amy. I want to spend the rest of my life making you the happiest little subbie alive.”
Cupping his face with her hands, she regarded him somberly. “I love you too, but we’ve been together for less than a week. It’s too fast for me.”
He studied her for the longest time, and then he kissed her palm. “What’s too fast, marriage or collaring?”
Amy wasn’t stupid. To many in the BDSM community, collaring was more significant than a wedding. “Besides the legal issues, what’s the difference?”
“None.”
Right now, he needed reassurances, and she didn’t know why. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re my Daddy, and I’m your little one.”
“We can parking lot the issue for now, little one, but it’s not going away. You’re a forever kind of woman, and I’m a forever kind of man. I’ve known since I met you that you were it for me. Maybe I’ve taken my time making a move, but that doesn’t change the fact that we’re soul mates.”
For some reason, she felt like crying. Nobody had ever said anything so beautiful to her before, and she knew he meant it. Jordan Monaghan was anything but impulsive. He was deliberate and methodical. And he kissed her tenderly, conveying with his actions what he felt in his heart.
“How long have you known?” She wiped away her tear from where it had wet his cheek.
“Known that you were my soul mate or that I wanted to marry you?”
“Both. Either.”
“It hit me the first time I saw you. I think that’s why I took so much time getting to know you, and dating you without actually dating you. My dominant side knew you were a submissive, but it took some time before I was convinced you were a little. Even then, I had to figure out if the signs were real, or if I was seeing things that way because it’s what I wanted to believe.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. “Amy, I haven’t looked at or touched another woman since we met, and I sure as hell haven’t been on a date. But I understand that you haven’t been thinking along these lines as long as I have. Your naiveté is one of the things I love about you. I’ll give you as much time as you need.”
That was a good thing because she was not ready to make that kind of commitment. Part of her was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Chapter Seventeen
Hiding in the bushes and watching a cabin in the middle of Nowhere, Michigan was not Miguel’s idea of a great night, but at least it would be a productive one. He could not afford to let this mistake fester.
The mercenary he’d hired to take out the couple had failed. Though he didn’t necessarily enjoy it, wetwork didn’t bother him. It was just so messy. Miguel liked things neat and orderly, and he did not like mistakes. His counterpart in Chicago had fucked up The Eye’s operation there. He’d become arrogant and overconfident, and that had made him sloppy. The Feds had noticed, and The Eye had been forced to severely scale back that operation.
Detroit was a starter town. It had all the graft and corruption of a big city, but nobody paid attention to it. Miguel had grown up here, and that’s why he’d been trusted to take over the Motor City. They’d originally chosen Victor Snyder for the job, but he’d been snagged for murder-one by one of Lawrence’s own agents who’d been on a case that shouldn’t have been related.
Lawrence wanted bigger fish. Most of the operations he’d nurtured had been fruitful. His agents had even taken down the Friedman brothers, a pair who had been a thorn in his side. He was fine with sex workers and trafficking, but that business about using underage girls had rubbed him the wrong way. He was old-school that way, but he firmly believed that sex workers should be the legal age of consent.
Proving himself here would give his superiors confidence in his abilities, and then maybe he’d go to Chicago to show them how it was done.
One fly in his ointment, one egregious error in judgment, and it threatened to take him down. It wasn’t going to happen. He was going to win, and that was that. Brian Gartrell had been trained as a marksman in the Army. He’d assassinated several high-profile targets before breaking. He’d changed his name and built a new life, but the addiction never went away. Miguel knew how to make life deliver another beat down to Brian that would put him in a position to become The Eye’s killing machine.
But then that fucking addict, Brian Gartrell had balked at killing the judge. Almost as if he was an unseasoned soldier, Brian had shot Gary, the intermediary and handler the addicts referred to as “Joe.” He hadn’t even fatally wounded the man. Miguel had been forced to finish off the ineffective handler himself.
Brian wasn’t supposed to be unpredictable. His profile hadn’t indicated that he would refuse to follow orders. In fact, it had implied that they’d be able to use his addiction to make him do just about anything short of murdering a little girl. He had a daughter, so that created a conflict there. His profiler had fucked up, and that meant he’d have to liquidate this one and find someone new.
So it fell to Miguel to clean up this mess, fall back for a little while, and then reassert The Eye’s muscle. At first, he’d thought the cleanup mission he’d contracted out had been successful, but then he’d learned his mistake. That fucking cunt, Brandy Lockmeyer, had hatched a covert plan that she’d kept off the books. She’d gone behind his back with this little operation, circumventing the procedure that would make her get his permission before undertaking such a complicated—and brilliant—plan. If she wasn’t so dedicated to law enforcement and doing her patriotic duty, then he’d try to lure her away to work for The Eye. She wa
s exceptionally competent.
It was total chance that he’d found out that Markevich and Monaghan were alive. If he hadn’t been combing through her emails, he wouldn’t have caught her oblique reference to the covert affair. After he was finished taking care of this part of the mess, he was going to make Brandy pay for her subterfuge. The email he’d sent had been carefully designed to push her fear buttons, alluding as it did to the massacre in Venezuela she’d narrowly escaped and threatening that something like that would happen again, but this time to the agents in her care. She’d do anything in her power to keep them safe, and that would lead to her downfall.
The kitchen window had no curtains. Miguel had to watch from a tree stand someone had erected long ago and wait for his moment. The pair of lovers behaved as if they were on a honeymoon—not two people hiding out while their families grieved for their passing. He watched as Amy stood in front of Jordan, who was seated on the sofa, and lifted her dress. She touched her pussy until he lunged forward and buried his face between her legs. When he’d eaten his fill, she climbed onto his lap and rode him while he played with her breasts.
Miguel knew that Jordan Monaghan was a Dom, and that meant Amy Markevich was his slutty little sub. Perhaps Miguel would keep her around for a little while, see how well she served a master who was much more serious and sadistic. Lost in the fantasy, he missed the action, and so he focused on using his observations to formulate a plan. Agent Monaghan would be a formidable opponent, and though Miguel could at one time have given him a run for his money, he was no longer in his physical prime.
He scrolled through the images on his phone once again. Rather than risk a digital copy of Monaghan’s file that might be traced, he’d taken pictures of it. Reading the stats made Miguel think that he’d be better off incapacitating Monaghan before taking him to the kill spot. He looked through his binoculars again to see the couple in the midst of a bad dancing routine that had them both laughing. He clambered down from his post. He’d be back later with the correct supplies.
ReDefined Page 22