But the man she loved, who she’d thought loved her, fed off of that vulnerability like a parasite, a vampire. He took and took, and crushed, and defiled. He’d left her body whole, but shattered her spirit.
After a few minutes, once her sobs had diminished to sniffling, Parker pulled her back, his hand caressing her jaw, fingers under her ear. “Ashley.”
The tone of his voice had changed, and it alarmed her. “What?”
His expression was pained, eyes hiding something. “We can’t do this now, not like this. It’s too soon.”
Fuck.
“Why? What’s wrong?” She wiped the tears from her wet cheeks. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I cry. It doesn’t mean I don’t want … to.”
Oh God, she wanted to.
But she was surprised by the depth of emotion she’d had bottled up. The tough girl routine could only go so far. Terry had hurt her, deeply. No amount of masking that fact with her rage and determination to shake him would change it. She was damaged, maybe forever.
The thought that it might torpedo something — whatever it was — developing between her and Parker was terrifying.
He looked at her a long moment, his thumb tracing the line of her delicate jaw. He reached around her and handed her the folded dress. “Put this on, but leave the bra on the bed. When you’re done, come out to the living room.”
Parker turned and left, closing the door behind him.
***
Parker sat on her maroon loveseat, fingers fiddling with the tassel on one of her throw pillows. He didn’t know what to do.
It was a positively alien feeling to him.
He wanted nothing more than to bend her over that bed, his old bed, and fuck her senseless. He wanted her so badly, it made him shake with the lust, the desire. He wanted more than that, though. He wanted to possess her, own her. Make her his, in all ways.
But that was the problem. He couldn’t do it yet.
Not when he’d seen the hurt, the agony in those lovely hazel eyes. He hated the tears that spilled down her cheeks even as they’d made him even harder. It always confused him that a woman’s tears simultaneously elicited an urge to both protect and possess. It made him want to comfort her, and conquer her — in equal measure.
Maybe he was just a sick fuck.
Not much ‘maybe’ about that, Parker.
She was in so much pain, so fragile. It was written in her beautiful distraught face, her brimming eyes, the trembling, swollen lips he longed to claim with his own. That cocksucker of an ex had done a number on her. The worst thing to do to a submissive woman (and he had no doubt she was one, down to the marrow of her bones), the worst possible thing, was to betray her trust. Her ex had done it to her, and left destruction in his wake.
If he could get his hands on that miserable piece of shit now, he’d kill him. Slowly. With pain.
Parker realized he had the throw pillow crushed in his fists. He relaxed the homicidal grip, tossing the pillow over onto the other side of the loveseat.
She wasn’t ready; maybe she’d never be ready. As much as it pained him to entertain that possibility, he would be just as much of an amoral asshole as her ex if he pressed forward with his plan. Her ex confirmed all the worst crude stereotypes about dominance and submission.
Parker had to make sure she understood that what her ex had done to her was not how it should be. He’d abused the trust (and body) of his submissive. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, and he was determined to show her how it should be.
There were deeper problems than that though. What she’d said sent chills down his spine, even as it made his iron hard cock jerk with the shock of realization.
She liked the pain.
Maybe it was a Stockholm Syndrome thing happening. Maybe she didn’t realize that it didn’t have to be that way. But whatever it was, she reacted to some of the things he’d done to her. It had excited her.
While a submissive liking some pain was fairly common, he had a pretty good idea that this was a lot more serious kind of pain. Just the kind of hurt that a sadistic wannabe Dom would clumsily deal out to an unsuspecting submissive.
Jesus, he wanted to end the motherfucker.
Be honest, Parker. That’s not the only thing bothering you here. Glass houses and throwing stones are not a good mix.
Sitting forward, he rubbed his face with both hands. He had to get it together. For her. To preserve whatever chance, whatever shot, was left. He wanted to make something good out of this.
He wanted her. Badly.
The door to her bedroom opened, and he looked up, straightening his spine. Weakness was not an option here. She needed his strength. He could sense it.
She’d get it.
Sitting back again and crossing his legs, he laid his arms along the top of the loveseat as she walked into the living room, her generous breasts moving under the thin material of her dress. He had told her to leave the bra off as a spur of the moment thing, not really thinking about the whys of it.
Now he was thankful he’d done it. He was glad that his crossed legs concealed the bulge of his erection as his cock came almost instantly back to life.
“Come here, Ashley.” He held out his hand to her.
She walked right to him, her breasts swaying at the movement, and he clasped her hand in his. She moved to sit next to him, but the squeeze of his hand stopped her.
He shook his head, then pointed his gaze downward.
Her expression was a mixture of puzzlement and surprise. Then her eyes went wide for a moment and she blushed, sinking to her knees in front of him.
Parker smiled. Such a pretty blush she had. He wondered what her round buttocks would look like suffused with that same hue.
His hand twitched in his lap, his cock throbbing again.
Calm down, Park. Not time for that. Goddamn it.
“I’m sorry, Parker. I don’t know what happened.” She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. “Can we try again?”
He nodded. “Of course we can. That’s what we’re doing. Now, I want you to be quiet, and listen to me.”
Ashley dropped her head.
She’s such a good girl.
Her compliant demeanor fired his lust even higher. The way her kneeling posture rode the dress high up her lush thighs wasn’t helping either. This was going to be hard.
“Your ex did something to you that no woman should ever have to go through. I’m sorry for it. You don’t know how sorry.”
She nodded, and he could hear her sniffle again.
Oh God, not the tears please.
Parker was going to go off in his pants like a twelve year old if she kept this up. He took a deep breath. He had to get through this.
“I am not him, and I never will be,” he said, noting her slight flinch at his vehemence on the word ‘never’. “You need to forget him as much as you can. In time I think you’ll be able to. You’ll have lots of help from me. And from Drake.”
Her head snapped up. “What?”
Parker locked gazes with her for several long moments, his expression as neutral as a rock face. She looked like she was a hair’s breadth from bolting.
Too fast Parker, you dumb fuck. Too soon.
He decided to just let it sit there, let her think about what he might have meant
Anticipation and uncertainty were effective tools to use with a submissive. He relished them.
“What do you mean ‘Drake, too’?” He saw concern in her eyes … and something else.
Her slender fingers twisted together in her lap, and he was distracted by the pale smoothness of her thighs. Her legs were blessedly bare. He usually liked stockings on his women, but it would be a shame to hide her creamy perfection under the silky fabric. Well, some of the time anyway.
“Lower your eyes, and be quiet, Ashley. You need to listen to this.”
Her bright eyes bulged again, her lips working, but she seemed to control it and finally lowered her head.
He liked spirit;
there was zero enjoyment to be had with doormats. Bending a strong will to his stronger one was one of the things he treasured most.
Careful, Park. Don’t get ahead of yourself.
“I want to tell you that I’m sorry, Ashley. I was wrong, and I admit it.”
The shocked look on her face amused him, and he was pleased to see she remembered herself and lowered her eyes again within moments.
“You’ve been through hell. I should have known better than to push things.”
She apparently couldn’t help it. “I’m not broken, Parker. I asked for this, remember?”
He glared at her, and she stared right back, her lips a thin line, the defiance blazing in her gaze.
God, could she be any hotter? How the fuck am I going to do this?
“What did I tell you to do, Ashley?” His voice was quiet, controlled.
“You don’t really know me, Parker. What I can deal with.” Her eyes were tear-bright. She was so beautiful. All he could do was look upon her for a moment.
“I’m not going to argue with you, Ashley.” He stood, straightening his coat. “You either do what you’re told and listen to me, or this is not happening.”
He’d been wrong again about his beautiful, disobedient girl. Her earlier compliance was a smoke screen, playacting. He’d never handled a girl quite this defiant, but it intrigued — and aroused — him. He’d see where this went.
Those intelligent hazel eyes followed his. “No — I. Please stay. I’m sorry.”
She reached out to touch his knee. It made his balls tingle, and his cock harden even more, but he wasn’t about to let her know that.
He glanced down at her hand, then back at her, his dark eyebrow raised.
She let go, returning to wringing her small hands in her lap, pulling down at the hem of her skirt.
“Now, I want you to answer my question, Ashley. What did I tell you to do?”
“To lower … my eyes. Be quiet.”
Parker could tell that saying the words was like swallowing broken glass to her.
He walked behind her, turning to look down upon her kneeling form. She was sitting on her heels, the black dress stretched tightly across her ass. The pleasing expanse of her broad hips aroused the male animal in him even more. He imagined that once she started eating enough again her buttocks would be as lush and proud as her breasts.
Soon.
“First. Don’t tell me what I know and don’t know. Second, if we are to have anything, anything at all, then you need to start learning how to do as you’re told.”
I really hope she doesn’t do as she’s told.
He continued. “Third, you must not hold me in very high regard if you think I should just take advantage of a traumatized woman.”
She turned her head to try to look back at him, her face red. That one hit the mark.
“Face forward, eyes down,” he said, stepping in to clutch the crown of her head and turn it forward. “Don’t defy me again.”
“It’s what I want,” she whispered. “Please.”
“This isn’t about what you want, Ashley. This is about what’s right.” He fingered the dark tendrils of loose hair at the nape of her neck. “While part of me would like nothing better than to have you bent tight over the foot of your bed while I pound your wet cunt, it would not be the right thing for me to do.”
She gasped, and he could see her blush even at the back of her neck.
“Quiet, Ashley!”
This was getting interesting, and he was more aroused by the minute. But it was torture, because he knew exactly how far it could go tonight — and no farther. He had to find out though. Had to find out if there could be something.
It doesn’t matter, Parker. Once she finds out, she’ll run.
He shook off that thought. There had to be a way. He could make it happen. He just had to be careful with her, nurture her, steer her along the path she needed to follow.
Yes, he wanted her, every part of her. He wanted to fuck her. Own her.
But he wanted to heal her too, if it was possible. He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way so soon. He wanted to take away the hurt, and replace it with happiness. Joy. Pleasure.
Love.
Oh no.
He moved around to her front, and sat down again, this time leaving his legs open so that he could see all of her, and her him.
“Look at me, Ashley.”
She raised her eyes, and his heart broke to see the tears tracking down her swollen cheeks once more. He was disgusted at the increase in his heart rate it elicited too, the throbbing in his confined cock. He had to get out of those pants, and soon.
“We’re taking this slow.” He softened his voice. “See where this goes.”
“Parker, I don’t know. I don’t know what you want. I want to be with you.”
He leaned forward, and reached his hands out. Her hands leapt into his instantly, her touch electric. He wanted to hold her in his arms, and kiss those tears away. God, how he wanted to.
But he knew he had to maintain a distance — at least in the beginning.
“Here is what I want,” he lied. “I want you to go to bed, and sleep.”
She started to protest, but he held a hand up.
“Just sleep. Tomorrow we talk some more. I want to go slow. I want to make sure this is really what you want.”
His cock was screaming at him to rethink this plan. For God’s sake rethink it!
“Parker, don’t go—”
“Now.” He stood and buttoned his jacket, hoping it distracted from the obvious bulge at his crotch. His cock felt like it was tied into a knot. “I want you to stay kneeling for me until I let myself out. Then you’re to lock the door behind me and go straight to bed.”
He stepped close to her, unable to help himself, his hand caressing her ear, her temple. She leaned it against his thigh, sighing, her arm around his knee. He almost lost it right there, the sensation of her touch tingling right up into the base of his testicles. It was wonderful.
“Until tomorrow, Ashley,” he whispered.
Then he stepped away from her, and walked out, closing the door behind him.
Chapter Eleven
She woke to the sounds of Jed, Parker’s huge, jet-black mastiff, running around the house. The clock said 3:12 AM. Despite his size — he weighed almost as much as she did — he was adorable. What was not so adorable was Jed’s penchant for enjoying late night sojourns out onto Parker’s property to chase other animals.
Then she heard it: a far off yipping, and crying. It was getting louder — or closer. Jed’s bark rattled the window of her room; he must have been right outside. Then the dog took off, judging by the sounds of his barking.
“Damn it.” She got up to go to the bathroom, able to hear the bass of the dog’s bark even as she sat on the toilet.
Earlier in the evening, she’d hoped that at about this time she’d be in the strong arms of Parker, snuggling up to the warmth of his muscled body, feeling his hardening cock against her buttocks.
Instead, the damned dog had to wake her up from a sleep fit for the dead. he finished and flushed the toilet, walking back out to her bed.
Shivering, she slipped back under the covers, again lamenting the absence of Parker as human bed warmer. God, he would be nice — she just knew it. She could tell from the bulge in his slacks that he would be very nice indeed. It wasn’t like it had to be big — no size queen, her — but it certainly was a pleasant bonus!
She suspected a lot of men were that way with breasts, too. Her mind flitted to the image of Parker’s heavy cock laid in the cleavage of her breasts. She imagined his gruff command to her to squeeze his cock between them as he began thrusting, a hand entwined in her hair, his cruel fingers pinching one of her nipples.
Stop it you dumb broad. Sleep, remember?
Ashley wasn’t sure she could, notwithstanding the continued barking outside. The strange yipping seemed to be getting louder again.
S
he’d been so fucking keyed up after Parker left her, that she’d had to bring herself off — twice — just to get to sleep. As nice as that was, it paled in comparison to a good, hard pounding, something she’d been sure she’d eventually get — until the night went wrong.
It was her damned emotional shit. She had to get a handle on it. Tara had suggested mindless distraction through meaningless sex. While she thought she would have taken any sex, meaningless or otherwise, after Parker left, she knew that it would be a waste. She needed more than just a release. She had two fingers and her vibrator after all, if that was all that was required.
She needed Parker. Needed to feel him, get behind the façade he kept up at all times. Ashley knew he had feelings for her. She’d felt the hard evidence of it as she’d hugged his leg like a lovesick puppy. She needed far more than that though, and the thought made her shiver.
There’d been the hint of it as he spoke to her rather harshly. She’d be a liar if she said his harshness didn’t turn her on though, because it hinted at more, just under the surface. She wanted to know that if she got under that hard armor of his, if she’d find a big softie (with one notable anatomical exception), or if she’d find something else. Something like steel.
She felt shame at what she hoped — she wanted to find steel. She knew it was wrong, especially considering what she’d been through with Terry. But she wanted that harshness, wanted to see just how far he’d go.
Maybe that was what had attracted her to Terry — that same harshness, that steel. Yes, he’d had it too, but it was tinged with contempt, selfishness, jealousy. She realized she didn’t include sadism in that list of negatives, and it made her shudder again.
She knew she was one sick bitch.
But still, she wondered. She could sense something … else. He held something — maybe a lot of somethings — back. She wondered if he would ever feel comfortable enough to share or show her what those somethings were.
Ashley wondered if he wanted to give her exactly what, deep down, she knew she needed. It had been hard to tell him what little she had, but in the process of doing it, she realized something — she felt better. Not just because she’d told anybody, but because she’d told Parker. Somehow she thought, hoped, he wouldn’t be freaked out by it. Maybe, if she was a really lucky girl, he’d be intrigued.
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