She wanted pain. He would give it to her.
Nude, she softly padded into the bedroom. The lost, damaged look about her should have made him pause. Instead it called to him in a way that should have shamed him.
He retrieved a bundle of jute and unraveled it, running the length through his fingers. She would need the safety of bondage for what he was about to inflict on her.
“Lift your arms.”
Dutifully she obeyed. He wound the rope around her back and across her chest several times, creating bands above and below her small breasts. Her breath came in shallow stutters each time he tightened the rope. He could almost feel the anxiety vibrating from her tense muscles.
Satisfied with the chest harness he’d created, he folded her arms behind her back, each hand gripping the opposite forearm. He then bound them to the harness, careful not to restrict her circulation. The methodical nature of Kinbaku helped calm him. Right then he needed that. His anger was getting the better of him. He’d never been this riled by a submissive breaking his rules. Why now? Why Genevieve?
Mentally shaking himself, he focused on completing the rope work. He knotted the ends and proceeded to check the tightness of the bondage. “Can you breathe?”
“Yes Sir.”
“If you start to lose feeling in your hands or arms let me know. I don’t want you trying to tough it out. Understood?”
She nodded.
He bent her over the side of the bed. After a brief thought, he retrieved a spreader bar and leather bit gag from the trunk. “This is going to hurt. I’m afraid you’ll need something to bite down on.”
She licked her lips, wincing slightly, then opened her mouth. He placed the bit between her teeth and she promptly clamped down.
“I’m not going to fasten it. If you need to safeword, drop the gag and do so.”
The haughty look she gave him seemed to say she didn’t think she’d need her safeword. He’d just see about that. He bent down and began strapping her ankles into the bar. She stiffened as he widened her stance to accommodate the length of the rather strict apparatus. He didn’t believe in half measures. Not at all. This particular device stretched her legs to what he was sure was an uncomfortable width, especially with as short as she was.
Convinced Genevieve was safely restrained, he stood back to admire his work. He’d always loved the way rope looked against flesh. Aesthetically, there wasn’t much that pleased him more. The spreader bar opened her up and gave him a beautiful view of her glistening pink pussy. The bruises from last week had already faded, which was just as well. He was about to leave her with new ones.
He grabbed the cane off the bed, gripping the handle reverently. It was a deceptive little tool—didn’t look like much, thin and made of rattan. All the better to mark her with. He really should warm her up first. Unfortunately for her, he didn’t feel like making it easy on her.
The cane whistled through the air before landing across the fleshy part of her ass with a sharp thwap. Genevieve screamed through the gag. He watched the rapid rise and fall of her ribs as she breathed through the pain. He hadn’t followed through on the strike, but let it bounce against the flesh. The lighter, bouncing blows produced a fierce stinging pain and were less likely to bruise. He’d work up to the harder, thudding strikes soon enough.
The skin around the white line the cane had made was already beginning to welt. He laid four more lines in the same fashion, each about an inch apart. Genevieve’s head snapped up and she strained in her bonds with each stripe. He knew her well enough to tell when she was struggling to control her reactions. He wanted to crack her resolve. Teach her a lesson. When he laid the sixth line on her sweet spot, where the top of her thighs met the curve of her ass, he made sure to follow through, striking her as if he were aiming for a spot inches beyond where the cane met her flesh.
Genevieve’s scream was ear-piercing. With a sob she spit out the gag.
Brian hesitated. “Have something to say?”
“No,” she growled through gritted teeth.
“If you’re sure,” Brian taunted.
“Just do it!”
She knew better than to provoke him. He let her know exactly how he felt with the next cruel strike. And then another. And another. He continued to cane her, fighting to hold on to his anger. His symmetry was less than perfect and his swing lacked his usual finesse, clear signs his restraint was slipping. The bedding did nothing to muffle Genevieve’s raw screams. Her ass was a mass of welted scarlet lines, evidence of the cruelty of his assault. Still, she had not said I quit.
Stubborn, willful girl. She challenged his carefully constructed set of principles and pushed him right to the edge. Losing control would have been all too easy at this point. He had to force himself to stop. The darker side of him wanted to break her, force her to quit, but he wouldn’t injure her to sate his own sadistic needs. Disgusted with himself, and angry with her, he threw the cane to the floor.
“Have you been wearing your plug as you’ve been told?” he asked, his tone harsh as he unfastened his pants.
“Yes Sir,” she sobbed.
“Good, then you should be more than prepared for this.”
He squeezed a large amount of lube directly on her anus. She clenched her cheeks in response.
With no preamble, he pressed the head of his cock into her snug little hole. She whimpered, trying to inch away from him, but he was not deterred. He grabbed her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh and pulled her roughly against him. She was so tight, squeezing him as she clenched and struggled. He drove into her until he was as deep as he could possibly be. She bucked and twisted, crying out. For all her fight, she hadn’t uttered her safeword. He took that as consent and used her, trying to tell himself she was nothing more than his toy. She had no business falling for him. Had no business making him care about her. She was his submissive. He was the one in control.
She stopped trying to evade him and not only relaxed, accepting the invasion, but thrust back against him with reckless abandon. She gave a throaty moan he felt all the way to his balls. Her sudden change in behavior coaxed a truly explosive orgasm from him. He pulled out at the last second and came violently, squirting thick jets of cum on her welted ass.
He had no intention of helping her find her own release. She’d broken one of his rules and taunted him with it. He half expected her to beg, but the only sound she made was a muffled sob. He gazed down at her bruised, trembling form and his heart lurched. Her eyes were closed and tears stained her cheeks but she looked almost peaceful. Somehow the brutality and pain had calmed her.
He was struck again by how beautiful she was. His submissive. She deserved better than this, better than him. The sad thing was he was far too selfish to let her go. He pulled away from her, shaken by his loss of control. This woman did things to him he wasn’t prepared to deal with. Not now, maybe not ever.
He couldn’t just walk away from her, leave her bound and broken. He was selfish but not a prick. He released her from the spreader bar then went to work on the rope. Her skin beneath the bondage was patterned with indentations. He leaned down and brushed his lips against the marks. She shivered and let out a sigh that sounded very much like contentment. Once her arms were free, he gently massaged her limbs. The tension in her slender muscles eased as he worked. Satisfied she was no worse for wear, he lay down next to her.
She turned toward him and wrapped her lithe body around him, resting her head on his shoulder. He planted a soft kiss against her hair.
“Don’t ever push me like that again,” he said quietly. “I mean it, Genevieve.”
She nodded, snuggling deeper into him. They stayed that way for a long time, rope still twisted around her, her body twisted around him. The air was heavy with things unsaid, words hovering between them like ghosts. He couldn’t bring himself to release them so he simply stroked her hair and savored the feel of her in his arms. He allowed her to come down from her endorphin high in silence.
&n
bsp; He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that he did care for her, more than he should. She’d made him feel alive for the first time in so long. But he didn’t dare break his own rules. He could never be what she needed. Not completely. It was better for both of them that he kept his feelings to himself.
She shifted, propping herself up on her elbow. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He looked into her deep-brown eyes. “What happened tonight?”
A small furrow appeared between her brows. “It’s complicated.”
“I can handle complicated.”
She looked down at where her hand rested on his chest and blew out a breath. “My mother is an addict. There, I said it.” She paused, tracing circles on his skin with her fingertips. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually said the words.”
His heart sank. “Drugs?”
She pressed her lips into a thin line and nodded. After a breath she continued. “Prescription painkillers. She’s been abusing them since my dad passed away. Recently it’s gotten worse. Way worse. She lost her keys tonight, and of course when she called me I raced over there like I always do. The damn things were in the front door. She’d been drinking and wanted to go buy more. There was no way I was going to let her get behind the wheel after she’d been popping pills and washing them down with wine. We got in a fight and she…slapped me. The whole mess is my fault.”
“Genevieve, you can’t blame yourself.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I’ve made it so easy on her. I’ve enabled her. For years. I should have spoken up a long time ago. Maybe then she wouldn’t be as bad as she is now.”
“Listen to me.” He turned her face toward his. “Her addiction is not your fault. Do you force her to take the pills?”
“Of course not.”
“Then don’t you dare hold yourself responsible for her actions. She’s made her own choices. This has been going on since you were fifteen?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus. So essentially you’ve been the parent for the last decade?”
“What else could I do? She’s my mother.”
“Is this why you wanted me to punish you tonight? Because you blame yourself?”
With a wince, she closed her eyes.
God, what a twisted pair they made. A man who’d buried his emotions so deep he had no idea how to access them any longer and a woman who needed pain to deal with hers.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you like I did. But what you gave me, I needed it. Thank you.”
He pushed himself off the bed and away from her. He’d almost lost control tonight. He could have really hurt her and she was thanking him for it.
A pained grimace pinched her face as she tried to sit up.
“Lie down. I’m going to get something for those marks.”
“It’s okay. I like—”
“The bruises. I’m aware of that. I still need to treat your skin. Lie. Down.” He gave her a look that said he meant business then headed into the bathroom.
After he located a jar of salve he leaned over the sink and stared into the mirror. What are you doing? His reflection didn’t have an answer for him. The truth was he had no idea what he was doing. He’d always been so tightly controlled. At that moment, he couldn’t have felt further from it. She was getting to him, his little submissive, chipping away at his carefully constructed layer of ice. He had to put a stop to it now, before someone got hurt.
He sighed, tearing his eyes away from the stranger who stared back at him, and washed his face. The cool water refreshed him enough that he was ready to face her again. He dampened a washcloth with warm water then grabbed the salve and returned to the bedroom. The jute was sitting at the foot of the bed in a neat bundle. Genevieve was curled on her side fast asleep. She looked so small, so fragile.
His resolve crumbled.
She was his, this strange and beautiful creature lying on his bed. A little broken, a bit damaged, and so much like him. It was his job to care for her. He’d worry about the consequences later.
Quietly, he crept onto the bed next to her. Using the warm washcloth, he wiped the semen from her then set it aside. Next he lightly smoothed the salve into her abused skin. She whimpered softly but didn’t wake. She would definitely feel the effects of the caning tomorrow and likely for days to come. The marks were vivid and already forming dark-purple bruises. He should have felt guilty. Shamefully, he didn’t. His cock stirred at the beautifully brutal sight. Already he wanted her again, but couldn’t bring himself to wake her. She needed rest. She’d been through enough for one night.
He placed the salve on the night table then eased Genevieve under the covers. When she was safely tucked in, he curled up behind her, pulling her small body against his. His entire being relaxed. For once, he didn’t attempt to make excuses for the profound sense of contentment he felt with Genevieve in his arms. He was too tired to put any more thought to it and simply let himself drift to sleep.
* * * * *
Something feathered across Genevieve’s shoulder. She nestled deeper into her pillow, determined to ignore whatever it was. She loved to sleep and hated interruptions with a murderous passion. Then her nipple ignited, tingling with the most amazing sensation. Now that might be something worth her attention. With a sleepy moan she shifted closer to the source of her pleasure. Moist heat engulfed her other nipple as a tongue swirled around it, pebbling the peak. Arousal flooded her with liquid warmth and she opened her eyes. The muted light from the moon bathed her seducer in pale hues.
Brian.
He released her nipple and gazed down at her with sleep-heavy eyes. He didn’t say anything, but then he didn’t need to. His eyes alone held her captive. She was so spellbound she was afraid to move. He trailed his fingertips along her collarbone, exploring the curves and hollows. Small shivers danced across her skin in the wake of his touch. He continued to the valley between her breasts and over her abdomen. He finally reached her mound, dipping between the folds and searching out her clit. Plucking the nub, he sent little shocks ricocheting through her body all the way to her toes.
His warm body slid over hers, pressing her into the mattress—his weight comforting rather than oppressive. He wedged a knee between her thighs, coaxing her to open for him. She spread wide in invitation. The thick head of his cock teased the sensitive lips of her pussy, which were already impossibly wet. Her entire core throbbed with want. She needed to feel him inside her, filling her. Why did he insist on teasing her like this?
She couldn’t wait another second and raised her pelvis, attempting to give him better access. But Brian, always the one to control the pace, moved just out of her reach. She whimpered in frustration.
“Shh,” he whispered.
He ran his hands along her arms, sending a wave of goose bumps over her skin. When he reached her hands, he twined his fingers with hers and stretched them over her head. Holding her firmly in place, he brushed his lips over hers, kissing her softly. Her swollen lip throbbed slightly from the gentle pressure. She didn’t care. She wanted to lean in to him, plunge her tongue into his mouth and let him know how hungry she was for him. Injured lip be damned. Instead, she closed her eyes and surrendered. There was no point in trying to rush him. Brian did things in his own time. She knew that by now.
A small moan slipped from her as he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue along hers, caressing every surface of her mouth. He’d never kissed her this way before, tender and erotic, as if he cherished her. This was not something shared by two people who were simply Dominant and submissive. It was so much more than that, intimate in a way that made Gen ache in places she had no business aching. She’d never felt so connected to another person in all her life. She belonged to this man completely, heart and soul.
Oh god, I love him.
Before she had the chance to panic at her sudden realization, he stunned all her senses and sank the head of his cock into her channel. He eased in, stretching her inch by blessed
inch. Nothing had ever felt as right as this. He nudged her cervix, sending an almost painful bolt of pleasure surging through her. His mouth still played at hers. She felt invaded on all fronts and powerless to fight it.
Smooth and languid, he thrust in and out, stroking the walls of her pussy and inflaming every cell in her body. A ball of heat gathered in her belly as each thrust brought his pelvis against her clit. She trembled beneath him, grasping for something, anything to keep her grounded, but it was hopeless. The slow, sensual way he made love to her shattered every barrier she’d erected between them.
Tell me you love me. Tell me I’m yours.
She was such a fool. She would never hear those words. Not from him. He’d told her as much.
Instead he murmured, “Come for me” against her lips.
And though her heart ached, she came. She clenched and pulsed around him as a gentle wave of ecstasy washed over her. Not an explosion, but a slow burn that threatened to consume her. Brian stiffened, squeezing her hands as he followed her over the edge. He drew out their climaxes with several measured thrusts before he stilled, a deep groan escaping him. His cock jerked inside her, sending tremors of pleasure radiating through her pussy. When he was finally spent, he relaxed on top of her. He stayed that way for one long, wonderful moment. Gen barely had time to enjoy it before he withdrew. He kissed her sweetly. Before he could withdraw his affection, she excused herself and went to the bathroom.
How was she going to pretend she wasn’t in love with him? Was it even possible for her to do that? Maybe. She was good at hiding her feelings. After all, she’d been doing it for more than a decade where her mother was concerned. But this was Brian, a man who could look through her as if she were made of glass. She would have to become a better actress because being without him wasn’t an option she could even bring herself to think about. She was sure it would be infinitely more agonizing than pretending she didn’t love him.
Vacant and miserable, she returned and climbed into bed. She held her breath and waited, wondering if he’d ignore her and go to sleep. Or worse, tell her to get dressed and send her home. A half-choked sob caught in her throat as he pulled her to him, spooning her from behind and wrapping an arm around her middle. She sighed, covering the small lapse, and settled into his warmth. Maybe she didn’t need him to love her. Maybe this would be enough.
A Firm Hand: 2 (Bound to You) Page 13