A Firm Hand: 2 (Bound to You)

by Blake, Fallon

  “Good girl,” he whispered.

  “Please?”

  “Please what?”

  “Please make me come?”

  “Since you asked so nicely.”

  He plucked the nub a little harder and studied her as she came—the tiny crinkle between her brows, the way she sank her teeth into her lower lip, that sexy rasp her voice took on as she cried out with pleasure—he would never tire of it. Her breathing slowed and he reluctantly pulled his hand away.

  She stayed still for a moment and simply looked up at him. The sparkle in her eyes made it seem as if she thought earning an orgasm made her the victor of their little battle. That was fine. She could have her moment. He would have his later.

  He rose to his feet, stopping briefly to make adjustments for his raging hard-on. “Come on, lazy girl. The pizza is getting cold and unlike you, I’d rather not eat it that way.”

  “I see your game now,” she murmured as he helped her up. “Tickle me into submission.”

  “Whatever keeps you in line. Do you have everything you need for the trip this weekend?”

  “Yes, thank you. Chris was a huge help.”

  “That he is.” He sat and helped himself to a slice of bacon and pineapple pizza. “I wanted to let you know that we’ll be attending a private party after Cadeau.”

  Her eyebrows went up at that. “By private do you mean kinky?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “No. I was just curious.”

  “Jared Kingsley, an old friend of mine, is hosting. Only a handful of people will be there and all of them close friends. Nothing too outlandish or depraved, but you can expect some form of play to be involved.” He hadn’t taken her anywhere public during their time together. Things had grown almost claustrophobic. It was past time they ventured out of their insulated world. Why then did it feel like a mistake?

  They ate in silence, Genevieve stealing glances at him every so often. He had the feeling she wanted to ask him something.

  “Out with it.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “Is there something you want to say?”

  “I was just thinking. You know all this stuff about me and I don’t know much at all about you.”

  “Where is this coming from?”

  “I don’t know. You could tell all those things about me just from visiting my apartment. I look around here and your house tells me nothing other than the fact that you’re filthy rich and possibly related to Patrick Bateman.”

  “Patrick Bateman? I’m not quite that materialistic or psychotic.”

  “Big points for catching the American Psycho reference.”

  “Thank you. I try,” he said dryly. “What you’re really saying is that my house is boring and lacks personality?”

  “It sounds bad when you say it like that, but yeah. Take this room for instance—black leather sectional, glass coffee table, an obscenely large television. There’s no color. No pictures. Nothing personal. It’s nice, don’t get me wrong. It just says nothing about the person who lives here. The whole house is like that with the one exception being your bedroom and even that doesn’t tell me a lot.”

  “So what, you want to know what my favorite color is?”

  She shrugged sheepishly. “Well, yeah.”

  He smiled at her brief moment of vulnerability. He liked this side of her. Over the last few weeks she’d really opened up to him, allowing him to see the girl behind all that sarcasm and hostility. She’d grown in her submission in ways that constantly surprised him. She knew when to challenge him and when to obey. The grace with which she accepted pain never ceased to amaze him. He never pushed her past her breaking point, but then she’d stopped trying to push him past his. Together they’d found a rhythm, a precarious one given the way he’d bent the rules for her, but a rhythm just the same.

  “Don’t shrug. If you want to ask me something, ask. You don’t have to be so self-conscious about it.”

  “I’m not—”

  He gave her a flat look.

  She set her pizza down and blew out a breath. “Okay. Brian, what is your favorite color? What movies and TV shows do you like? Do you even watch television?”

  “Of course I watch it. And my favorite color is rattan red.”

  “Rattan red?”

  “Yes, that amazing color your ass gets after I’ve used the cane.”

  She grinned and reached for the remote on the coffee table, but stopped short. “May I?”

  “By all means.” He lounged back into the leather. He couldn’t wait to see what this was about.

  She switched over to the DVR screen and began scrolling through the shows he’d recorded. “You can tell a lot about a person by their apartment, but I can tell a lot by what they have on DVR. So let’s see, sports…Sons of Anarchy, such a manly show… Oh my god. You watch Downton Abbey?”

  “Chris’ fault entirely. He got me hooked on it.”

  Smiling, she shook her head.

  “What? It’s a great historical drama. I love the idea of having a house full of servants. It’s incredibly hot.”

  She burst out laughing. “Wait until I tell Ivy. She loves that show.”

  “You’ve been talking to Ivy about me.”

  “A little,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze.

  “So, what have you told her about us?”

  “Nothing really, just girl talk.”

  It was a casual question. He hadn’t expected resistance. The question was why? “That’s not an answer.”

  Head down, she picked at her pizza but gave him no response.

  “Genevieve, stop acting like a petulant child and answer the question. I thought we were past this.”

  She snapped her head up, locking her gaze with his. “You want to know what I told her? I told her we negotiated an agreement, that we have amazing kinky sex and that you really know how to use a cane. She also knows about the bruises I currently have on my ass. I told her about your rules and that I love how you never let me get away with anything. I told her that you’re different from any Dom I’ve ever been with. That no one on earth has ever made me feel the way you do.”

  He sat in stunned silence. For once he was at a complete loss.

  She inhaled shakily and looked as though she would burst into tears at any moment. “I’m not like you, Brian. I’m not a block of ice. I can’t do what we do and not feel anything.”

  “Is that what you think of me? Cold, unfeeling?”

  Why that hurt, he couldn’t say. She was right. He’d purposely suppressed his emotions to avoid the complicated mess that came with them. Obviously his evasion tactics had failed. Things were about to get very messy.

  “It’s just that you’re so closed off, so distant sometimes. You’re still such a mystery to me. Just when I think you’re opening up, showing me the affectionate, caring person I know you really are, you pull back, freeze me out. I just… I want to know you. You ask me to bare my soul but you give so very little of yourself in return.”

  “You knew what kind of relationship this would be from the beginning.”

  “Yes, I remember. No messy emotional entanglements.”

  “So what exactly do you want from me?”

  “Something I can’t have,” she whispered.

  Now that those words were out, he wished she could take them back.

  The boundaries between them should have remained fixed and rigid. He’d allowed them to lapse by deviating from their scheduled visits, allowing her to sleep with him, and by sharing pieces of his past. This was his fault. As his submissive, she relied on him for guidance and direction in their relationship and he’d certainly fucked that up.

  How the hell was he going to fix this?

  He said nothing. Gen had handed him her heart on a silver platter and he said nothing. His face betrayed no thought, no emotion. He was as cold as he’d ever been. Had she really expected he would declare his undying love for her? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Now that she’d revealed w
hat she truly wanted she knew things would change. He would distance himself from her.

  “I’m afraid relaxing with dinner and a movie is no longer possible.” His tone was flat, chilly. “Take off your clothes then get the ball gag, wrist cuffs and clip from the drawer and come to me.”

  Miserable, she obeyed. When she finished undressing, she neatly folded her clothes like he’d taught her and put them aside. Carefully, she retrieved the items he’d requested and brought them to him, unable to look him in the eyes.

  “Kneel,” he ordered.

  She dropped to her knees without hesitating.

  He placed the gag in her mouth and buckled it tightly behind her head. “Stand up and put your hands behind your back.”

  She did as she was told. He placed the cuffs on her wrists and clipped them together.

  “Now, go stand in the corner. I have some work to do.”

  The withdrawal of his affection nearly crushed her. She looked back at him, tearfully pleading with her eyes. Don’t send me away.

  “Go, before I decide to leave you there for the rest of the night.”

  With her head hung in shame she made her way to the corner of the room and leaned into it with a muffled sob. Hot, angry tears rolled down her cheeks. He’d sent her to the corner as if she were a child. Her defiant nature wanted to rage at him for being so cruel. But more than that, she wanted to beg his forgiveness, take back all the things she’d said, promise to do better. Obviously he didn’t want to hear anything she had to say. He’d gagged her.

  Saliva dripped from her chin to her chest. And now her humiliation was complete. She was drooling on herself and crying in the corner while the man she loved and submitted to ignored her. She’d much rather be beaten.

  She stood there listening to him type for what felt like forever. Maybe he did intend to leave her there for the rest of the night. The thought only made her cry harder. How could he disregard everything she’d said as if she’d never spoken at all? His ability to dismiss her reminded her of what he’d told her about his family. He was able to do this because it was what he knew, what he’d learned firsthand. But was it all he knew? No. She wouldn’t believe that. She’d seen another side of him. A side he was so good at hiding.

  Just when she thought she’d been completely forgotten, he was there, turning her around.

  “All these beautiful tears.” His hands were gentle as he cupped her face. “What am I going to do with you, Genevieve?”

  Love me.

  Gently he kissed the wetness from her cheeks. His lips were so soft, so tender. They burned a path down her throat to her breasts. He sucked one of the peaks into his mouth, rolling it over his tongue. She moaned into the gag, despising the way her body betrayed her. Fresh tears slipped free even as lust seethed through her.

  She wanted to hate him. Hate him for his ability to pluck emotions from her and mold them to his whims. Hate him for beguiling her body while her heart protested. Hate him for the ease with which he mastered her. Hate him for making her love him.

  He knelt before her, tenderly kissing her belly, his arms around her hips, pulling her in. His tongue delved between the lips of her pussy. She trembled, abandoning thoughts of hating him, and transferred that pain onto herself. Damn him. Even through her tears and sorrow, she ached for him, loved him.

  Her back hit the wall as he pressed his mouth against her. Strong arms immediately steadied her, his lips and tongue never leaving her pussy. Desire consumed everything, leaving no room for thought. His mouth was the only thing that existed and she surrendered to it. He licked and sucked as if he wanted to devour her. Gone was the careful, methodical nature she’d come to expect from Brian. He was need and desire unrestrained.

  Sensation exploded though her as she came, her sobs muffled. She pulsed. She throbbed. She cried. He ruled her body no matter what state the rest of her was in. Before her orgasm ebbed, he pulled her to the floor. His fingers roughly unbuckled the gag. He threw it aside, overwhelming her with a deep, sensual kiss before it hit the ground. Her arms were crushed awkwardly beneath her. Using her thumb, she unclipped the cuffs. He hadn’t given her permission but at the moment she didn’t care. She needed to touch him.

  As soon as her hands were free, she tore at his shirt, ripping the buttons, fighting to get to his skin. Her fingers found his heated flesh and dug in. He fisted her hair, painfully deepening their kiss. She kissed him back with everything she had. They were frenzied, all teeth and nails and bruising fingers.

  She went for his belt, franticly prying it open in an effort to get to his cock. She needed him inside her. His hands were suddenly there, helping to rid them of the barrier between them. A brief feel of his warm, rigid shaft was all she was allowed before he pushed her hand away. They groaned together as he sank into her. He drove deep, fucked her without mercy and she loved it. She grabbed his hips, urging him deeper, harder.

  She reached up and bit his shoulder, wanting to mark him as he’d marked her. The salty taste of his skin danced across her tongue. She whimpered as he tightened his grip on her hair, wrenching her head back sharply. He slammed into her and she elevated her hips to meet him. He bit her lip. She dug her nails viciously into his ass. The force of his thrusts drove him so deep it was painful, a sweet pain she never wanted to end. All too soon another orgasm crashed over her, drowning her in pleasure.

  With a groan, he pulled out and gripped his cock. It was so intimate, seeing him this way—his guard down. The arctic façade had given way, showing her the man beneath. His head was thrown back, eyes closed and his mouth slack with ecstasy. He pleasured himself with quick, hard strokes—a carnal fantasy come to life. Already she wanted him again.

  A raw, primal sound rumbled in his chest. His muscles rippled as his orgasm tore into him. Unable to tear her gaze away from him, she was riveted. He laid thick ropes of come across her belly. He fought for breath, coming back to himself, and sat back on his heels.

  Please look at me.

  She wanted so badly for him to acknowledge what they’d just shared. He’d broken her down without an ounce of physical pain and taken her when she’d been laid bare. Naked beyond skin. She’d never felt quite so vulnerable. She needed him to see that. Needed him to piece her back together. It would only take a look, a word, a touch.

  He opened his eyes but only stared at the remnants of their coupling displayed on her stomach. His sigh was deep and troubled as he rose to his feet. Turning away from her, he fastened his pants and straightened his shirt.

  An unbearable ache settled into her chest and she rubbed at it absently.

  “Get dressed.” The frost in his tone was unmistakable.

  He walked away, left her a ruined mess of limbs and despair on the floor. She curled on her side and fought another wave of tears.

  They’d come full circle.

  Chapter Ten

  You can do this. People fly every day. Stop being such a baby.

  Gen’s stomach was one big knot. She gripped the armrests of the plush leather seat until her fingers ached. Anxiety prevented her from appreciating the extent of the luxury around her. A disembodied voice came over the intercom, but she didn’t catch a word of it. How could she when her heart was beating so damn loud?

  Deep breath. “Are you sure this thing is safe?”

  “Of course,” Brian replied. He wasn’t even paying attention to her. He was absorbed in his stupid iPad.

  She glanced around the cabin, claustrophobia threatening to join her newfound terror of planes. “But it’s so small.”

  He sighed and looked up at her as if he were irritated. Concern immediately creased his brow. “You’re pale.”

  “I’m fine.” Not even close. “I just… You’ve flown in one of these before, right?”

  “You didn’t tell me you’re afraid of flying.”

  “I’m not afraid.” That sounded pathetic, even to her.

  He tucked the tablet away and reached for her hand across the narrow aisle. The warm st
rength of his fingers entwined with hers did little to calm her nerves.

  “But…I’ve never actually been on a plane before.”

  “Never?” He looked astonished.

  “Nope.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t think it would be a big deal. People do this all the time, right? I should be able to handle an hour flight to Miami. It’s not like we’re crossing the Atlantic or anything.”

  “Mr. Donovan,” the pilot announced. “We are cleared for takeoff.”

  Adrenaline flooded her veins, making her skin flush and her scalp tingle. With her free hand, she tightened her seatbelt until it dug into her hips. She squeezed the shit out of Brian with the other. Panic made itself home in every cell of her body. “Oh god.”

  “Genevieve, look at me.”

  She forced herself to meet his worried green eyes.

  “You’re going to be fine. I’ve chartered this very jet with the same pilot many times before. It’s perfectly safe. I would never put your life in danger. Do you believe me?”

  “Yes, but it’s not really helping right now.” Nothing would help. She was terrified. Small planes dropped out of the sky all the time. They crashed and burned leaving no survivors, only mangled wreckage for emergency responders to comb through. She’d heard about it on the news a couple of times this year alone. What if it happened to them? What if they went down in the Everglades somewhere?

  “What can I do to help you?” He stroked her thumb with his.

  The jet picked up speed at a breath-stealing pace as it barreled down the runway. Nausea churned her stomach. Her breath came in short pants. “I don’t know. Talk to me. Something. Anything.”

  “Just breathe and think of a topic.”

  “What?”

  “How about horror movies? You like those, should be easy for you.”

  What the hell was he talking about? “Sure, whatever.”

  “We’ll run through the alphabet. I’ll start us off. Alien. Now it’s your turn. Give me something starting with B.”

  “What?”

  “Give me a movie starting with the letter B. Or can’t you think of one?”