Provoked

by Riley Murphy

  She was moving in a dream, that’s what this felt like. A beautiful, wonderful, scary dream. Once she was naked and had reached the cuffs she waited. She wasn’t going to make the same mistake she’d made the last time, by touching them.

  “Very good, butterscotch. Open your mouth.”

  He was behind her and when she saw the ball gag appear, as he lowered it in front of her face, she closed her eyes and became more in tune with what else he was doing. Making her feel. Teasing her, when he pressed his fully clothed front against her completely nude back. The imagined visual caused the flesh between her legs to ache in a series of squeezing pulses.

  “It’s not too tight?” he asked after he’d finished locking the buckle that secured the gag.

  She shook her head.

  “Arms up.”

  She was ready to fall down. He hadn’t even touched her and she was ready to…to…to fuck him until they both got hurt. Did he read that truth in her eyes? He was studying her hard enough.

  “It’s another eight minutes for you. Open your stance.” He tilted his head and looked down watching her. He didn’t look up when he said, “Wider. Good. Now,” he stepped out of her line of vision and when he came back he had a stool and a vibrator. The latter of which frightened the hell out of her. It was a big one. A powerful one. It had a cord.

  In a few words. It wasn’t Harold.

  He put the stool down right and front of her and held up the machine. “Hitachi. The Cadillac of vibrators. For eight minutes I’m going to torture you with this. Why?” He put the round tip of it under her chin and gently pushed up so she was forced to hold his gaze. “Because I can.”

  Charlie figured this would be a piece of heaven pie. Him sitting on a stool with his nose level with her navel while he turned the thing on and pressed the machine’s heavy vibrations against her clit, making her come over and over again. He called that torture?

  No. He. Did. Not!

  For eight grueling, darn right frustrating, totally awful minutes he used that vibrator all over her body. Everywhere, and on every part of her, but the one that counted. Worse? Every once in a while he’d press it into her lower abdomen. Right over the location where her G-spot was hidden inside. If he rocked it in a certain way it touched on a nerve that drove her right out of her mind. Then he’d trail the thing down one leg and up the other coming so close to her center, that ached and throbbed, trembling for his attention, before he continued to deny the area any love.

  Were there tears running unchecked down her cheeks? Probably, but at this point she didn’t care. Bitch of it was, she still wanted to climb right on him.

  “Time.”

  She hadn’t realized how tense she was until the vibrations cut out and her whole body took a breath.

  He put down the vibrator and then stood. “You were wrong before, butterscotch.” He bent down and kissed away a tear. “These bother me.” He licked one more away. “They get me hot and bothered when I know what kind of trial you’ve been through to spill them for me.”

  She thought he was going to undo the cuffs, but he didn’t.

  “It’s time for another eight minutes.”

  He couldn’t be serious? She’d never make it.

  “I think,” he sat down on the stool and looked up at her, “I’ll be creative with your punishment. That’s coming up next.”

  Scared. Thrilled. Excited? Oh yeah.

  “Why? Because I can. Now.” He put his hands on her hips and her eyes automatically closed. His touch, the heat from his fingers pressing against her? This was a slice of heaven pie. “I’ll use nothing but my hands on you. My fingers, my knuckles, my thumbs. For eight minutes I’ll play with only one part of your body. Just one. And during those minutes I’m going to count every time you come. I’m going to use that count to dole out your punishment.” She opened her eyes and looked down, but he wasn’t looking up. He was staring at her center when he said, “Each orgasm counts as two strokes when I spank you. Why?” Now his hot gaze lifted and her pulse sped when he answered his own question. “Because I can.”

  He spread her flesh with one hand and used the back of his knuckles with his other to stroke her. It was no more than a brush. A rub. A slightly intimate touch and she climaxed so hard her legs shook.

  “Easy does it, tiger. You don’t want to spend all night over my knee.”

  Problem was? She did. And when she quickly came again, she knew she just might get her wish.

  Neil wasn’t ready to call time. He fucking loved having her at his mercy like this. She flexed her hips and danced on her toes. Her nipples were so hard he bet they were a source of pleasure/pain to her. She’d made noises he wanted to tape so he could hear them at his leisure later. But going beyond the eight minute time frame wouldn’t be fair.

  “Time.” He sat back and watched how she practically panted to breathe. “I counted nine.” She groaned behind the gag, so he teased her. “What’s that? You counted ten? You’re probably right. Watching your wicked little body move was quite distracting.”

  No sooner did he have the gag off than she gasped. “Nine. It was nine.”

  He stopped in the action of undoing the cuffs and looked down at her. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  With the last cuff undone he said, “Relax. Turn around. I want to massage your shoulders.” He worked her muscles going down her arms and back up again. “Do you want to know why I’m going to punish you now?”

  She shook her head and whispered, “I already know.”

  Hesitating mid-rub, he asked, “Why?”

  This time she answered, “Because you can.”

  She got it. He wanted to haul her up for a hug, but it wasn’t time for that yet. “Well, let’s get to it.” He didn’t want to give her time to think or prepare. This wasn’t meant to be fun.

  She was over his knee and properly positioned before he said a word to her. “After this we’ll be working with a clean slate.”

  He didn’t go easy on her and for her part she didn’t bitch about it. Halfway through, he stopped. “Are you doing okay, tiger?”

  “Yes, sir.” And when she pressed her face in for a kiss against his calf he knew she’d be just fine.

  The last few strokes were the hardest on both of them, but more him, as he was determined to follow through with them. “All done.” He helped her to stand, keeping hold of her hips while he let her get her bearings. One look up at her brave little face, and he opened his arms. “Come here.”

  She moved so fast, wrapping herself so beautifully around him, he closed his eyes and was reminded of her being his sheets. She felt so warm and…?

  His eyes opened.

  Was metaphor going to be added to the list of grammar shit she was bringing into his life against his will? First euphemisms, then idioms, and now here he was thinking about an appropriate metaphor about her and his sheets. No.

  Yes.

  All because when she was wrapped around him everything was right with the world. The way it was when he slid beneath his silky sheets and closed his eyes to sleep.

  Damn.

  He hugged her closer. “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

  “Are you talking about all the stuff that’s happened or us?”

  “Us.” He gave her a squeeze. “That other puzzle can wait until I figure out this one.”

  “Oh, I forgot. I want to get something.”

  After she slid off his lap, he shifted on the stool and waited. When she bent down to go through the pants she’d left by the corner he squinted and then frowned. “Charlotte? Why is your tat smudged?”

  She snapped up and yanked his shirt down so hard it stretched to her mid thighs. “What?”

  He folded his arms over his chest and stared at her. “The new ink on your ass is coming off.”

  “Oh, man.” She twisted around and went in a circle trying to see it. “Did you get it wet when you bit me? Now it will have to be re-stenciled. It was supposed to be drawn in
permanent ink.” When she finally caught a glimpse of it she deflated. “So much for permanent.”

  “It’s magic marker?” His first thought was that she duped him.

  “Of course it is. I didn’t have time to get it done and come here being all sexy. We came up with the design and I had it drawn on.” She walked toward him fanning herself with a folded piece of paper. “Besides, there was always the chance my Master had a better design in mind.”

  That made him feel a little better, but then the thought of her naked ass at the mercy of some guy didn’t sit well with him either. “You’re right. Maybe I should talk to the guy who’s going to do it.”

  “Girl.”

  “In that case, I’ll be there.”

  He loved the way she returned and climbed right on him without hesitation. Her thighs against his hips, her pussy crushing on his cock through his pants, and her breasts squashed against his chest. “This is for you.”

  He opened it, but there was nothing there but a blank page. “What is it?”

  “My apology.”

  “This is not funny.”

  She snatched the page back and scowled. “Shit on salty cracker! I must have grabbed the wrong one.”

  “What kind of talk is that?”

  “I’ll write you a new one.” She crumpled the paper up and threw it behind him. “I promise.”

  He put his hands on her hip and pushed her down into him in a grind. “Actions speak louder than words, Charlotte. Talk to me.”

  It took a second, but then she caught on. “Yes, sir. Like this?”

  Less than a minute later when he slid into her impossible heat, he sighed. “Exactly. I want the best apology you’ve ever given.”

  “Oh God.”

  Neil leaned back and let her ride him, as he growled. “God’s got nothing to do with this. Talk to me. I’m your Master.”

  “Please, Master.”

  He tugged on her hair to get her to slow down the ride. “Please what?”

  “Please fuck me. Fuck me. Oh Go—Master.”

  For correcting her mistake he decided she deserved a reward. “Get down on your hands and knees. I’m going to ride you a different way.”

  He wasn’t gentle as he made her press her cheek to the floor and keep her ass up. He didn’t talk, he just drove into her like a piston. Over and over again until he came with a force that made his ass clench. He wasn’t sure what to expect from her. He’d been a little rough, so when she turned to him, all soft and shy almost, and knelt before him, cleaning him with a towel, he knew one thing.

  This was the best fucking apology he’d ever been given.

  Then when she was finished with the loving task, she bent and pressed her cheek against his foot, whispering, “Thank you, Master.”

  He didn’t question why his heart beat a little faster even though he felt nothing but complete and utter peace. When she returned to a kneel he automatically put his hand on her head, resting the weight of his palm there, breathing a little easier in the knowledge that she was comfortable in this position of service. This was what he ached for.

  “You’re welcome, tiger.” He massaged her scalp with his fingers, whispering, “So very welcome.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Neil stood at the side of his bed for a few quiet moments, watching her sleep. The last two months had been filled with some of the most challenging and yet, rewarding days he’d ever experienced. He’d always known he was possessive. What Dom wasn’t? But until he met his butterscotch tiger, the possessive Dom part of his personality had never met up with the romantic man inside him.

  This phenomenon could have happened because she’d taken to learning his rules and rituals with an enthusiasm that was astounding. He thought about earlier tonight when he’d brought her out to the backyard. He hadn’t intended to do anything other than to show her the moonlight, but then she’d looked at him with those come-fuck-me eyes and he couldn’t resist the temptation. He’d ordered her to take down her jeans. He’d enjoyed every little wiggle as she shed them, but then she’d moved to step out of them and again he couldn’t resist.

  “No, don’t kick them off. I love to see your pants tangled up at your feet when you sink to your knees to worship. That’s the kind of devotion I live for. Come on. That’s a good girl. You want to please your Master, don’t you?” he’d asked.

  Her whispered reply? “Yes, sir.”

  Hell, now that he thought about it, maybe this had been her grand plan all along. Right from the evening when they’d played their very first game of Master, May I. He often thought back to that night, when she courted his dick after she’d served it. A totally unique move and one that was so different, much like her. Had she called to the romantic side of him to come out and play, even then?

  He bent to retrieve her robe from the bottom of the bed when a blast of cold air from the AC ruffled a piece of paper on his night stand. He recognized that letter head. With a scowl he went around to his side of the bed and snatched up the page. Was this another Neighborhood Watch citation? Charlotte wasn’t going to be happy about it if it was. She’d been ready to go knock on the association president’s door the evening a few weeks ago when they’d found their last one stuffed into the mailbox. Ironically enough, that was the catalyst that had caused Neil to realize what a great team they made. He never thought shit like this bothered him until she started taking care of it. Living without that nit-picky daily stress was nice. There was a good balance. Charlotte was principled in things he wasn’t and vice versa.

  He angled the notice into the bar of light that beamed into the room from the hall lamp, prepared for the standard, Mr. Cannon, we regret to inform you… but then he found himself squinting to reread the first line. An apology?

  He shot a look over at her peacefully slumbering form, and grinned. She really was a tiger if she got those assholes to write him a letter of apology.

  This he needed to read—unfucking believable was all he could think after he read a portion of the first sentence: Mr. Cannon, we deeply regret all the harassing our previous president…

  Of course they did.

  Clearly she’d taken them off at the knees. The thought gave him a rush. For no other reason than he loved knowing that behind closed doors she was the one on her knees, bending to him, when to the outside world she bent to no one.

  “Mmm…” He went to her. “You’re so warm and toasty it’s almost a shame I have to do this.” Neil leaned over her and slipped his hands under the sheets. When his palms connected with her stomach she tried to scoot away from him.

  “Ooh, your hands are cold.”

  “I know.” He hauled her back toward him.

  She stopped struggling and then twisted to look at him. They were nearly nose to nose when she said, “You saw the letter, didn’t you?”

  She smiled.

  “I did.”

  He smiled right back.

  She put her hand to his cheek and he pushed his jaw into it, as she caressed him. “Are you finally done connecting all the dots? Are you ready to come to bed now?”

  He slowly shook his head.

  She shifted back on the pillow and frowned. “So why did you wake me?”

  “I need your help.”

  When he straightened, she sat up. “With what?” Leaning sideways, she plucked up her phone and checked the screen after it lit up. “It’s one thirty in the morning. Can’t you let Jude figure this stuff out?”

  “He’s trying.” Neil picked up her robe and handed it to her.

  As he helped her out of bed and to get into the robe, she grumbled, “The only thing I see him trying to do is out Dom you. He’s got the voice for it, you know.”

  Neil waited until she fastened her belt before he tugged her into him. “Oh? You like his voice, do you?”

  “Cat’s going to kill you when he makes his move. She still thinks he’s a vanilla pudding pop.” She played with the buttons on Neil’s shirt and then tilted her head back. “I lov
e your voice. Besides, no Dom has everything I want like you do.”

  “You’ve met so many, have you?” He really liked it when she went all soft and flirty on him, like she was doing now.

  “A few.” She dropped her gaze and undid one button, flicked it a couple of times with her finger, and then refastened it. “Is Greyson Maddox a Dom?”

  Flirt time was over. “Who wants to know?”

  Her innocent gaze locked on his. “I think Cat would really like him.”

  He grabbed her by the lapels and pulled her up, while he came down until their noses kissed. “Only Cat?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good answer.” He let her go and took her by the hand. “Jude is perfect for your sister. Maddox is too old. He’d never have the patience to put up with the brat.”

  “Hey. Not nice.”

  He pulled her out the door and didn’t look back. “Did I say brat? I meant to say challenging sub.”

  “That’s better. Where are we going?”

  Once they reached the bottom of the stairs he stopped. “To my office. I need some help staying focused. That’s where you come in.” He took one look at her riotous curls and said, “We’ll need to put your hair up. Do you have any allergies to tape?”

  She put a hand to her hair and asked, “What kind of tape?”

  “PVC. There’s no latex in it if that’s what you’re worried about.” He led her into his office.

  “I wasn’t worried about anything until you brought it up.”

  They stopped when they reached his desk. “The tape?”

  “No, being worried. What’s all this?”

  He followed her line of vision and said, “Since I have our puzzle figured out it’s time to work on this one. That’s a tack board with all the information I need to map. I’ve been staring at it for hours and can’t seem to make any connections. Jude suggested I look at it a different way and I think he’s right.”

  “Oh.” She stuffed her hands in the terry pockets and brought her shoulders up in an adorable shrug. “What can I do to help?”

  “Lose the robe so I can use your body as my tack board.”