by Angel Payne
Jesus loves me…
One beer. Another.
Vodka straight up. Then another.
This I know…
Then, plunking down the Benjamin, ordered the waitress to leave the whole damn bottle.
Zeke’s questioning glare started wavering in his vision. He grinned back, welcoming the engulfing, numbing fog. Soon now. The demons would come…and they’d have their nice little chat…
But only one demon arrived.
And damn it if irony didn’t deserve a fist bump for the delivery.
The fantasy blazed to life in his head…
He moaned, letting it all the way in.
* * *
Sage looked more gorgeous than he ever remembered, outfitted in a slinky gold gown that accentuated every incredible inch of her body as she led him up the spiral staircase to the “exclusive” rooms on the lounge’s top floor. He followed her down a hall with purple velvet wallpaper softly lit by frosted glass sconces. All the doors were closed. He couldn’t hear a sound, except some tinny opera singer pounding out Amazing Grace. Well, it was a step up from Sunday School, he supposed.
Finally, she stopped. Pushed open a door, smiling serenely. She motioned him into the room like a gameshow model showing off a new car. Garrett dipped his head, hoping he looked a gentleman despite feeling everything but, before stepping through.
Before she shut the door with a quiet click, his dick surged in heightened agony.
There was a four-poster bed…and she was kneeling in the middle of it. The golden gown was gone. She was gloriously nude…and blindfolded. Her hands rested against green satin sheets. Fuck, the sheets were a great touch. The color nearly matched her magical, beautiful eyes…
His cock jumped again, and he grunted from the pressure. She reacted with a little shiver. Again, so damn perfect. He approached the bed, stirring the shadows thrown by candles positioned on shelves around the room. The only other light in the chamber came from two small gooseneck lamps. One was aimed right at her. The other was bent toward a small table loaded with sinful sexual discipline toys.
He watched her pretty white teeth sneak out and bite her lower lip. “Oh, yeah,” he rasped, stepping closer.
* * *
“Garrett? Garrett!”
“Mmmmpph.” He dragged his eyes open. Sort of. He glared at the meaty hand on his bicep and then up into Z’s carved face. Before his friend could react and yank the bottle away, he grabbed it closer, swigging hard.
“Holy fuck. You really want to land in medical for alcohol poisoning?”
“Shut up.” He grabbed the bottle’s neck, upending all the cute grey geese, dousing himself in the last two inches of vodka in the process. Well, that was one way of ensuring he got the last shot.
“Jesus,” Z muttered.
“Loves you,” he grumbled back. “Now lee…mah…alone.”
He closed his eyes. Sucked in a rough breath. Fell fully into the fantasy of his drunk, delirious psyche. Into the golden, gorgeous nudity…of her…
* * *
He tugged off his boots and shucked his shirt. Sage surrendered to another shiver. Her areolas tightened and darkened around her pinpointed nipples. Beneath those erect peaks, her lungs hitched on uneven breaths.
Her nervousness clutched at deep, primal places inside him. It drew him to crawl onto the mattress and then kneel in front of her. He stroked her soft, quivering mouth with the pads of his fingers. As if knowing what he needed, she parted her lips and raised her face.
“Tell me you want this,” he murmured. “All of it. You know what I want to do here…what we’re going to do.”
A sweet, sensual sigh escaped her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please, Sir…I want this.”
He descended his fingers to the place where her jaw joined her throat. “You’re certain? You know exactly what I want? You’ll surrender to me. Your body will be mine. Every move you make, every drop of your arousal, every sigh and scream you give, will be mine to call and command.”
He felt a whimper vibrate in her larynx. She nodded softly but said nothing.
“Speak it,” he dictated. “Tell me again.”
“Yes.” The word was barely a breath. “Yes…please…yes.”
A responding groan thundered through him. He dipped his head, devouring her mouth in a deep kiss. He rolled their tongues and meshed their breaths while she tunneled both hands to his neck and scratched dual tracks down to his collarbone. The pain was perfect. If she needed this half as bad as he, his control would be an easier burden to bear.
He forced her wrists to the small of her back and held them there. The motion flattened their bodies to each other. His beautiful girl moaned, opening her mouth wider for him.
Hell. Fucking. Yes.
When the kiss ended, he tugged his eyes open. He gazed at her bruised lips, the supplicating tilt of her face, the ripples of fear in her forehead as she wondered what he’d do next. Garrett raised his free hand to trace the edge of her blindfold with his fingers.
“Your safe word is ‘truth.’” He issued the order in a coarse rasp. “Repeat it to me.”
She lifted her mouth in a smile. She looked like a little girl about to get a trip to the candy store—except that she was naked, blindfolded, and about to be helplessly bound beneath him.
“Truth.” She rendered the compliance with breathy ease.
He rewarded her with another long, wet kiss. During it, he released her hands and shifted his own to her breasts. He cupped the taut swells, rejoicing as her nipples went hard against his fingers. “I’ve missed these.” He dragged his thumbnails across the erect tips. “Have they missed me, too?”
“Yes.”
He answered her whisper with a pleased growl. “Very nice, sugar. Now give it up a little louder.”
He underlined the command by twisting both her hard peaks. She arched against him, her head jackknifing back. “Ohhhh! Mmmm, yes!”
“Good girl,” Garrett murmured. “That’s my good, gorgeous girl.” He stroked her reddened nipples, easing her pain, adoring her more for her obedience. She leaned toward him, seeking him out with her hands, which shook in her blind quest for connection to him.
When her fingers hit the ridges of his abdomen, she gasped. Her pleasure doubled his, but the craving took over again, the demand his system issued for complete power over hers. With a grunt, he grabbed her hand and then formed her fingers tight around the throbbing ridge in his khakis.
“If you want to touch me, fine—but you touch what I tell you to. Right now, that means my cock. Stroke it like you want it, sugar.”
“Yes.” The word was merely a breath. She groped his sack and pulled his khakis tight around his stalk. He could only take the torment for about thirty seconds before unzipping and bursting free into her eager fingers.
“Fuck.” The word spilled out as she grazed his balls with her nails. Again, as she stroked up his length, applying perfect pressure. His head fell back. “Holy fuck. Where’d you learn to do that?”
Sage purred softly against his chest as she rounded the hot bulb of his cockhead, her fingers teasing, squeezing, caressing. “You’re so beautiful, Sir.”
His senses careened. Wait. Why did she sound so different? So…distant?
“I love touching you like this. Serving you. I’ve missed this cock so much. I need it. Order me to suck it. Please, Garrett…”
Whispers now. Her voice and her touch.
No. No.
He groaned and then flailed, searching for her. Words erupted from him, primal snarls now, fighting to keep the fantasy alive.
“Quiet, damn it.” He pushed her hands back, thrusting her breasts back up at him. He fiercely suckled them both, committing their succulent taste to the wild fog of his memory. Why couldn’t he remember anything? “You speak only when I ask for it, sugar. Is that understood?”
Her head dropped. “I am sorry, Sir.”
While she spoke the contrition, he left the bed in order to kick off
his pants. “Don’t be sorry with your words. Be sorry with your body.” As he pivoted and considered the rack of toys, he instructed, “We’ve discussed the rules, haven’t we? You’re mine tonight. Completely. You belong only to me, and you will obey me, Sage.”
Her breath audibly snagged. “Y-Yes, Sir.”
“Now, you’ll lie down for your punishment like a good girl. Your lesson is going to be five swats on your spread pussy. My discipline will continue when I fuck the rest of your lesson into you.”
Her breath caught again, though she said nothing else. With measured movements, she moved into place. The sound of her limbs sliding against the sheets, eager and acquiescent, made his cock swell more. The damn thing was at a parallel angle to the floor. He tried his best to ignore the torment while he considered the choices on the rack but gave up the effort when his gaze settled on a riding crop that had a custom feature. The leather tongue at the end of the rod had been slit and inset with a handful of longer leather strips, turning the instrument into a mini flogger too. With a swift flick, he tested the toy on his thigh. The swatter delivered a good sting, though the sensation came in two waves, drawing out the heat of the impact. Interesting—and intoxicating. He’d make her scream and squirm.
“Perfect,” he murmured, turning back to the bed—and the dream of a woman who lay there. With her golden hair spread against the satin and her body bare except for the blindfold, she was an image of trembling readiness. He was ready, too. No turning back. He would claim her. Consume her. Conquer her. And when he was done, he’d never go through the agony of letting her go again.
With that resolve, he paced to the side of the bed. Attached to a leather tether was one of the padded wrist cuffs he’d requested. With rapid flicks, he opened the buckle.
“Arm.” He said it with steady calm, knowing the directive would be heeded. Sure enough, though goose bumps sprouted on her skin, she extended her wrist for the bondage.
After he cinched her other wrist, he moved to the end of the bed. When he clutched one of her ankles and dragged it out toward its own cuff, she broke into a whimper. He went still.
“Problem, sugar?”
Her throat undulated. “No, Sir.” Her murmur carried an edge of fear, though he looked at her nipples turn darker and tighter. Telltale dew drops appeared on the well-trimmed mound between her legs. Two streams of such different intent, flowing through her body. So mesmerizing. So fascinating. And arousing as hell. Nevertheless, he didn’t move his hand from its firm grip around her ankle.
“Do you still trust me, beautiful?”
“Y-Yes, Sir.”
“You know we have to do this.” His tone was gentle but his hold commanding as he fastened her ankle inside its cuff. “You know what I need to do here.” The clink of the second buckle coincided with another rush of shimmering cream to her pouting pussy lips. “You know this is necessary. I can’t fuck you if I can’t keep you safe. If I don’t know you won’t disappear again. If I’m not sure—”
You won’t die again.
He banished the terror with a determined grunt. She wasn’t going to die. She was here, buckled down for him, so wet and ready for him. Yes. Yes.
As he ran his hand up her thigh, he confirmed it. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you, Sage?”
She wriggled again and moaned. “Oh please…yes!”
Her mouth stayed parted after that, pulling in deep gulps to fill her chest, pumping in frenetic proof of her mounting need. Her fingers pulled at the leather tethers above the wrist restraints. Her legs shook as she tested the limits of the ankle cuffs. Her hips flexed and her ass bunched, joining in an effort to thrust her sex higher to him. Fuck, she was beautiful. A mixture of such striking textures. While her muscles flexed in taut frustration, the tender petals of her core bade him closer…closer still…
He mounted the bed, into the V between her legs. He rose high on his knees, using the vantage point to drag his stare over every inch of her again. Wherever his gaze touched, he let the crop follow. It wasn’t long before he dragged the leather fronds over the erect ridge of flesh nestled in the center of her sex. She gasped and threw back her head as he swiped her pussy again. More goose bumps dotted her thighs and arms.
“Now,” he stated, “I want you to tell me how much you want me again—and how you’ll gladly pay the price for my cock.”
Her entire frame succumbed to another shiver. But she wet her lips and stammered, “Yes, Sir. I do want your hard cock. And I will pay the price for it.”
“Good girl.” He gave her the praise just before whapping her rosy folds. She yelped from the spank but bit it short the next second, her chin set with the resignation that more were to follow.
“Again.” He slid the crop along the inside of her left thigh. “Say it again.”
“I want you, Sir.”
“Perfect.” He brought the flogger down on her mound more gently the second time, making her twist her hips with breathtaking abandon. “You have three more swats to go, sugar. After I give each one, I want you to tell me exactly what you want.”
He flung the flogger down again.
“Ohhh! Y-Yes! Please, Sir. I want your cock.”
Thwack.
“You want what?”
“You! Your cock!”
Thwack.
“Ooohhhh!”
Garrett didn’t let her come down from the adrenaline. He landed the fifth strike in the middle of her sob, yanking her cry into a scream and coaxing new juices all over her reddened, sensitive blossom. To make the sight more incredible, the insides of her thighs quivered, shimmering with her aroused perspiration.
Holy hell. She was spectacular. His cock reared. He couldn’t wait to detonate with her. His body already felt like a state fair fireworks finale. For the first time since he was a teenager, he didn’t know if he could contain his orgasm long enough to get inside her. On a ragged breath, he grinded his jaw. He had to make it.
She gasped, and he marveled at the sight of her pulse beating in her neck. He tossed the crop aside in order to lean over and slide two fingers along that hammering artery. Her heartbeat sped up. Heat surged through him. Goddamn. This was what pure power felt like. No wonder the high could corrupt men. But he didn’t feel corrupted. He was floored. Humbled. Grateful.
“Mine,” he whispered. “You’re mine, Sage, and I’m never letting you go again.” He moved his whole hand across her neck, stroking the cream of her perfect skin, savoring the strength of her strong, aroused pulse. “Say it, Sage. Tell me you belong to me…forever.”
Her lips parted.
But no sound came out.
Her throat constricted, as if choking off a sob. “I…love you,” she finally rasped. “So much…so much…”
As her voice curled through him, her body dissolved beneath him. Turned into blackness…just like the long, empty months he’d just been through without her…
“No.” His head reared back as the sound grated out of him. “No!” he roared.
He reached for her. Ripped the blindfold off, seeking the brilliant life in her huge green eyes.
But they weren’t green.
They were black. And viscous.
Their sockets began to writhe. Worms, taking over her lifeless body…fading back into the mud of a dark velvet jungle…
* * *
He jerked back to consciousness. Back to reality. To the revelation it brought, slicing straight into his gut, searing with nauseating force.
I’m not a fucking Dominant.
And I’m the Prince of Persia. He dragged a bleary stare up at Zeke and belched.
“Lovely,” Z drawled.
“Thanks, Your Highness.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.” His head throbbed, but strong instinct dictated it was only the start. The throbbing music in the air only made shit worse. Katy Perry crooned about the pitfalls of playing with dark magic. Well, no fucking shit. “Damn. Why are they blasting that crap so early?”
&nbs
p; “It’s almost lunch time,” Z replied. “And it’s only the radio.”
He didn’t know what to give back but a stunned grunt.
As if the sound had pulled her magic bell, Gia reappeared. She smiled with the serenity of a Madonna, leaning over to wipe his face with a warm wet towel. Garrett yanked it from her, finishing the job himself. The last damn thing he wanted right now was sympathy or tenderness.
The last damn person he wanted to be right now was the monster living in his skin.
Way to pull down the impressive stats, Hawk. One fucked-up vodka haze. One disgusted best friend. One abandoned woman, waiting in your bed at the base. And oh yeah, one cock that can still drill through the side of a tank.
And zero points in the decent human being department.
“Gia?”
The woman stepped back over with the grace of a duchess. “Yes, Sir?”
“No,” he growled. “Not ‘sir.’ Just Garrett.” He steeled himself, forcing his gaze to stay focused on her while the room spun. “Garrett…who badly needs a shower. You have one of those around here?”
“Of course—though I must warn you, the ‘hot’ is only given when the gods feel very generous.”
He snorted. “That’s fine. Right now, I’m not interested in the ‘hot.’”
Chapter Six
Sage gave as many details as she could to Rayna, though she deliberately glossed over the grittier stuff. How did one talk to their friend, even after what they’d been through together, about feeling the way she did from Garrett’s behavior? Hey, Ray, I know you were pinned in that cave and had your body altered against your will, but can I tell you about how wet I got when my fiancé held me down and smacked my pussy? Did I mention how it made me think of nothing but begging him to tie me up and then fuck me until thinking became impossible?
God help her, it still sounded like heaven. She’d done more thinking in one year than most people could handle in a lifetime.
She still stuck to the basics with Rayna—which still got weird when arriving at the part about Garrett’s invasion-of-the-body-snatchers exit. Luckily, Rayna wasn’t able to ask too many questions by that point, because everything turned back into a mess of sobs. True to form, her friend held her through every tear. It was easy to feel the trembles in Ray’s own frame too. Both of them needed only one hand to count how many times they’d allowed themselves emotions like this over the last twelve months. When survival was more important than feelings, breaking down simply wasn’t an option. Maybe they needed to make up for lost time now.