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by Lea Griffith

  She inhaled as agony speared her chest. “I’m not enough.”

  His breath hissed out. “What you’re asking me to do has nothing to do with gentle. I’ve walked this tightrope with you for a year now, and holding back is becoming harder and harder. My lust for you mocks me.” He took a deep breath, and Ruthie’s heart sank anew. “Your skin is so soft.” He trailed a finger across her collarbone, over her shoulder, and down her arm. “Your body is the stuff of my dreams.” His hands cupped her hips, fingers digging deep.

  Ruthie hissed as wetness pooled low.

  “This ass, this perfect ass, would flex under my paddle, and I can only imagine the feel of your pussy wrapping around my cock, holding me, after you’ve begged me to take you. I want to break you in the most sexual of ways, Ruthie, and then drive into you over and over, harder, deeper, hold you to keep you in place for my thrusts as I put you back together. I want to sink my teeth into your shoulder, not allow you to move, because you’re mine and I want you to know it.”

  His big body trembled against hers. He’d moved so close she could feel his every breath.

  “But I can’t do those things because a taste would drive me mad. You don’t know who I am, not really, and I haven’t wanted you to see that part of me.” He rose and stepped away from her then.

  “I know what to expect, Tobias. I’ve researched this—”

  He laughed, and the sound was harsh and bitter in the quiet of the room. “Researched? With who? Candace?” There was a slight sneer in his voice, and it hurt.

  She nodded and lifted her chin stubbornly. “I had to know what to expect. You want things and I want to be the one to provide them.”

  “You don’t know—”

  “And there are things I want and need too,” she said, raising her voice and cutting him off. “I need to give you control. I need you to quiet my mind so I can concentrate on the pleasure. I’ve spent almost my entire life fighting for independence, and with a single stroke of your skin over mine you make me want to give it all up and crawl inside you, please you until you return it a thousand-fold. In my heart, that’s what I know you’d do.”

  Ruthie was close to begging now. He was pulling away from her. Denying her. Desperation clawed its way up her throat. “You think I don’t hear the buried craving in your voice? You think my body doesn’t go wet and soft for you when you squeeze my hip or bite at my lips?”

  “Please don’t do this to me,” he pleaded in a rough voice.

  She got to her feet, praying her legs held her up. He’d said he wanted to break her, and he was surely doing it by refusing them both. “It’s because I’m blind.”

  “What? No! It’s because of—”

  She raised her hand and cut him off. “What has this been, Tobias, this thing between us? Pity?”

  “Ruthie, I—”

  Her heart broke apart—it was there in his voice. “It is.” Her words echoed in her mind and ripped into her soul. She grabbed her coat, shrugged it on and belted it. Tears overflowed; she couldn’t stop them. “I gave you my heart and came here tonight to give you my dreams.”

  “Ruthie, goddamn it—that’s not what this is! I’m not who you think I am,” he bit out, and his deep baritone, instead of soothing, grated on her nerves.

  “You’re right, Tobias. I thought you were mine. I thought I could be yours. But even a blind woman can see that’s just not the case,” she whispered.

  It was quiet then, nothing between them but a breaking heart—hers—and a stubborn refusal to see past insecurities—his.

  “Who are you, Tobias, that you will not share yourself with me?” she asked, wanting an answer but dreading it at the same time.

  Ruthie knew who he was, but she had only bits and pieces of his background. His sister, Daly, was her best friend, so of course Ruthie knew about their dad and how they’d grown up under his oppressive thumb. Tobias had approached her a year ago, shortly after Daly had begun dating Ruthie’s brother, Jeremiah. Those two had become inseparable, and Ruthie was genuinely happy for the brother who’d given up so much to raise her. But she’d secretly yearned for the same thing—that bond with another person that allowed you to feel deeper than anything you’d ever known.

  Tobias had asked her to go see a movie. She’d laughed in his face, because hello? She was blind. But after apologies and more laughter on both their parts, she’d given in and gone. He’d held her hand, hugged her close, and then he’d described the characters in the movie so she could “see” them in her mind. He’d licked the shell of her ear as he’d whispered to her, making an action-packed movie much more erotic than the directors probably intended. Tobias had played with her hair and driven her crazy with soft touches along her shoulders and neck.

  Then he’d taken her home, kissed her good night—her first kiss—and left after a promise to be back the next night for more.

  More. Something he wanted now and wasn’t going to let her give him.

  “You want to know who I am, Ruthie?” His voice had lowered, the baritone a darker, even richer texture that had goose bumps rising on her body.

  Ruthie stepped back. Did she?

  Tobias stepped forward. She cocked her head, listening. He gave her silence for long moments.

  “Then I’ll show you.” It was a dark promise, and Ruthie had no idea what to expect. “You’ll need a word, Ruthie. A single word that when spoken will tell me you’re ready to stop or we’ve gone too far.”

  “Red,” she answered quickly.

  He laughed, but there was no mirth. “You have been talking with Candace.” He breathed in deep. “There are rules, Ruthie. I control your pleasure. I control you. You do nothing unless you’ve been given permission by me. If you have questions, ask. You address me as Sir. As in any relationship, there is a natural give and take. But don’t forget who has the power here. And your word, don’t forget your safe word—say it when you want me to stop.”

  “I won’t,” she promised.

  “I guarantee you will,” he returned. “There are limits to any play, Ruthie. How far you will go, how far you’ll let me take you. I know Candace told you about limits. Do you have any hard limits?”

  “No breath play, no scat play or urination, no cutting,” she answered.

  “That’s all? Everything else is open?”

  “Yes.”

  He laughed again; this time it stroked along her nerve endings, centering in her pussy. “I need your permission.”

  Ruthie had no idea what he was asking for.

  He sighed. “Tell me what you’ll give me, Ruthie.”

  Oh, Tobias, she thought. With that single statement he’d told her everything. She took a deep, cleansing breath. She was so close.

  Before she could speak, he said, “Remember, this is a contract, binding us in play.”

  “I will give you more of me than I’ve ever given anyone. I will give you all of me and take all of you in return…Sir.”

  Tobias said nothing for a while, and the lack of communication unnerved her.

  “I will take all of you and replace it with more pleasure than you’ve ever known, sub.” He was on her then, one hand cupping the back of her head, the other ripping the coat off. He pushed down on her shoulders, and she hesitated.

  “A good submissive doesn’t always need verbal guidance. You should be so willing to please me that my touch alone is enough to tell you what I want you to do and how I want you to move,” he said, and the softness of his words was a sensual threat.

  Fear trilled through her, and she capped it off, refusing to give up the opportunity to finally show him she could be what he wanted—what he needed.

  Ruthie went to her knees once again.

  The scrape of his zipper was loud even above her heavy breathing, and the fear became something altogether different. Heat moved through her, intense and unexpected. Oh, she always desired Tobias, but this was greater than anything she’d ever experienced.

  He tapped her chin and she lifted her
face automatically. He hissed in a breath, and his tense, “Perfect” had her smiling inside. She smelled the musk of his body, the overlay of cedar-scented soap and aftershave, and the underlay of man. Ruthie licked her lips, desperate suddenly for something.

  His hand grabbed her jaw and she opened her mouth; again, no words necessary. It was a dance, much as Candace had warned, but so fucking hot and full of sexual intent it was mind-blowing.

  His cock bobbed against her lips and her tongue swiped the head. Tobias groaned, Ruthie smiled, and he bumped his hard flesh on her lips. “Please,” she whispered.

  “Shhh, no words,” he ordered.

  There was a current of anger in his voice. Ruthie didn’t care—she was close to getting what she’d come here for. She wasn’t going to let his anger stop her.

  She took him in her mouth, laving the head of his cock before licking down the shaft, moving even farther before she suckled on his testicles. He grabbed her head then and held her still. Ruthie opened her mouth, and he sank in deep, so deep she nearly gagged, barely controlling the reflex.

  He pulled out and sank deep again, and she used her tongue to tease and demand in her own way. Over and over, fast then slow and fast once more, he entered her, doing what he’d promised, taking her apart. She was so wet, so needy, she reached a hand between her legs—and that’s when he stopped.

  He pulled out of her mouth and bent over, grabbing her hand and bringing it to his mouth. He licked her fingers clean and placed her hand on her thigh. Her position was such that her knees were starting to protest, but she didn’t complain.

  Tobias stepped away. “You don’t touch yourself, ever, unless I’ve given you permission, sub. You don’t do anything unless I give you permission.”

  He moved behind her, and she heard another zipper, followed by the rough slide of leather on leather. A short snap followed by a husky laugh, and Ruthie almost fainted. Her mind was moving a hundred miles an hour, calculating scenarios, plotting his next move.

  “There are punishments, Ruthie, when you don’t do what I want. If you’re slow to move when I say move, slow to react when I say react, slow to come when I say come, there can be punishments that if you relax and accept them, turn into pleasure. You gave me your list of hard limits, and there was nothing about flogging on there.”

  The tails of his tool landed softly, gently, over her shoulders and trailed down her back. She curved to feel them until the last possible second and then nearly screamed as the flogger landed hard on her back, the thud delicious and only slightly burning. The tails were broad, thick, and specifically designed to give an impact without a lot of burn. But the heat was there and it sank through her back to her front, warming all the places that had chilled when she thought he’d not accept her submission.

  “You touched yourself, and I didn’t give you permission. Untie your corset, Ruthie, and lower it to the ground beside you,” he ordered.

  There was no hint of her Tobias in the tones of his voice—there was nothing but hard demand. She moved to do as he commanded immediately, untying the corset from the front, the satin ribbons falling over her arms as she undid the final tie and placed the silk and bone garment on the ground. The cool air rushed over her breasts, toying with her nipples and wringing another shiver from her.

  “Lower your torso to your knees and place your forehead on the floor.”

  She did as he told her and waited. And waited. And waited. How long she stayed there in that position she didn’t know; time moved at a sluggish pace, and her legs were going numb before he spoke again.

  “Part of submission is quieting your mind. I can hear the wheels of yours turning even now. Will I strike you? Will I caress you? Will I bring you to that place where you can be nothing but pleasure? You demanded this of me, and now Ruthie, I’m going to initiate you into my world. I’m going to do all of those things—strike, caress, and bring you pleasure—but remember, Ruthie, when this is over, that you asked it of me.” His voice was rough, and Ruthie had only a second to wonder if she’d asked for too much.

  Then his flogger fell and took her breath. The second swing took her voice. The third nearly took her mind. Heat unlike any she’d ever felt tingled over her back. With each fall of the tails on her flesh she lost a little more of herself, her mind sinking into the pleasure of his flogger’s embrace.

  Over and over, the tails touched and withdrew, striking and thudding over her skin, bringing more heat until it was a conflagration and Ruthie was sobbing in her pleasure. She had only one thought: More. She wanted it to never end.

  She hadn’t heard him move, but when his nails scored over the marks left by his flogger, Ruthie hissed in a breath and said a single word, “Please.”

  “Breathe, Ruthie. Take deep breaths and let my warmth push deep inside you,” he said softly against her skin.

  A lick, a kiss, a bite, and then he brought the flogger down on her again and again. The strikes landed on top of his earlier ones, and combining with the marks left by his nails they burned, yet it was sweet, that pain. In that moment she lived only for the pleasure, the pain momentary and fleeting, the blaze consuming her and stealing all thought.

  As suddenly as he’d begun, he stopped, and distantly she heard the sound of him moving in the kitchen beyond the room they were in. Then he was back, and on top of the heat there was ice, slithering along her spine and dripping down her sides. The cold droplets found her breasts, sliding over her nipples and making her yearn.

  “You’re so pretty wearing my marks, Ruthie. Does the ice feel good, baby? Does it make my marks burn hotter?” he asked.

  Ruthie was so focused on the tactile sensations, the differences between the heat and ice, she couldn’t answer—her mind had retreated and she was a creature of pure feeling.

  A sharp tap on her ass, and she was reminded of her situation. “Yes!”

  Her response was guttural, her voice ruined by her attempts to hold in her screams of ecstasy. Her pussy wept, and his fingers swiped through her wetness, dragging it through her cleft until he swirled it up and over her anus.

  Every move he made seemed designed for her pleasure. There was pain, but it passed too quickly for her to embrace, not giving her the chance to find her mind in the hot mess he’d made of her body.

  “You want more?”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  A harder tap now, and she did give voice to her scream, the combination of his earlier marks with this new, more powerful strike bringing tears to her eyes. “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

  “I would like to see you against my cross, Ruthie—the cream of your skin against the crimson of my cross would be lovely. I’d love to see you hanging in my swing, your thighs spread and red from my flogger, your body presented for me to use any way I see fit. Tell me, Ruthie, is your mind quiet?”

  There was something she was missing, but the pleasure had obliterated her options to form a coherent response. Her body ruled her.

  “I thought so, little sub,” he said before he placed another, single kiss at the top of her hip.

  Her body writhed. She did her best to remain still. Having no idea what to expect, Ruthie waited.

  “Remember,” he said softly. “You asked for this. Stand up, Ruthie, slowly. Call to me if you need help.”

  It took her long minutes. Her legs were numb and her back was relaxed. Her muscles screamed in protest, her skin on fire, but she managed to rise to her knees. “I need help,” she told him.

  Nothing. Then she remembered. “I need help, Sir.”

  He was there instantly, holding her close as he lifted her to a standing position and waited for her to find her balance. Her head rested against his breastbone, and Ruthie inhaled, finding comfort in his scent.

  “Raise your hands, sub.” His voice was cold now and filled with intent.

  Unease skated down Ruthie’s spine and she wondered at that intent. What did he have planned? She raised her hands, wanting back the
comfort of oblivion from moments ago.

  Something slid over her wrists and down to mid-forearm. Leather cuffs, their softness a promise, the cold chain they were attached to a warning. Tobias tightened the cuffs until they were secure and then told her to wrap her hands around the chain.

  Once he had both arms in the cuffs he stepped away. He sighed, and she had no idea what to make of that. Again, she wished for her sight.

  “The chain allows you to lower your arms enough that you won’t fatigue too quickly. It is wrapped through a bolt hole in the ceiling. I want you to hold on, Ruthie. This ride will be rough.”

  Another slide of leather on leather, and Ruthie tensed.

  “You’re waiting for pain, Ruthie, and that tells me you have no idea what you’re doing here. Do you not trust me? Have I ever given you anything but pleasure?” he asked.

  She remained silent.

  “Answer me!”

  She startled, the sound of the anger in his voice making her own rise.

  “You’ve given me nothing but pleasure, Sir. But you said you want to break me, and I wonder, Sir, if that’s what you’re planning,” she answered.

  “I want to break you so all you know is me, but that’s not fair to you, Ruthie. Because what lives inside of me shouldn’t be visited on anyone. Spread your legs, sub.”

  Ruthie spread her legs and waited.

  “This isn’t like the last flogger. The tails of this one are thinner and braided. It stings, but it’s beautiful for all that. What is your word, Ruthie?”

  “Red, Sir.”

  “Let it begin,” he said quietly, and then the flogger fell.

  She hissed, she yelled, she pleaded. It was beautiful, but it was agony as well because the intent she’d heard in his voice earlier was packed into every strike. He wanted to scare her off, to show her he wasn’t what she wanted.

  Yet every mark he left was infused with love, and the heat spiraled, down her back, over her bottom, down her legs until she became a supernova of want and need. It settled in her stomach, moving lower into her pussy until she knew she was fire.