Savage Hearts (Club Volare)

by Cox, Chloe

  She took the head of his cock in her mouth, long pink tongue snaking out to lick it first, and Soren groaned. If he let her, she would drive him over the edge before he even got inside her.

  He pushed her back, hard, onto his bed, her knees up, legs spread, and then he fell on her, no longer able to contain himself. The games, the scenes, the carefully thought out play, all that would come later. This was when he let himself go. Cate’s moans filled his ears as he covered her body with his own, with his mouth, with his hands, with his teeth.

  His mind was receding, making room for the blind animal she brought out of him.

  “Soren,” she breathed in his ear, and it turned him into an animal. He grabbed hold of her hair again, reared back, holding her down, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder. He positioned his cock with the head nestled in her folds, so close, teasing a groan from her throat, and then grabbed her chin in his hand. He looked at her until she took his fingers in her mouth.

  “Mine,” he said, and then he wasn’t going to wait anymore, and he plunged into her.

  Jesus Christ she felt amazing. Liquid velvet, smooth and soft, hot and wet, opening for him like he knew she would. Her mouth opened, her eyes half-lidded and then wide open in shock as he pushed into her, feeling the full, hard length of him. She fit him perfectly.

  She cried out, her hands scratching at the sheets.

  He let himself go.

  Soren couldn’t get enough, not ever, knew it would never be enough of her for him. He possessed her body with his every way he knew how and then more, riding her, making her his because she was. His mouth on his her breasts, her neck, biting, sucking, licking, soft followed by hard, giving himself over to that animal rhythm that built itself deep inside him.

  He’d never had anything like this.

  Cate, screaming his name, and then just screaming, scratching down his back with her fingernails as he bit her shoulder, leaned into her, and pushed as far, far as he could go, his hips driving hard against hers, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside her. Her thighs, quaking and shaking and squeezing the ever-loving shit out of him, so hard he could barely breathe and didn’t care; he couldn’t let up if he tried.

  He lost himself, and it was because she took him just as much as much as he took her.

  The way he overwhelmed her, he saw it reflected in her eyes, felt it in the way her body responded, and it came back to him tenfold: an obliterating wave of sensation. He couldn’t look away. Couldn’t look at anything else but Cate’s beautiful face as she twisted and writhed under him, her hands tearing at the sheets, his back, the headboard, her eyes tearing as she came around his cock again, and again, and again.

  He remembered thinking how dangerous it all was, until he wasn’t able to think anymore, and all that was left of him was what they made together. And when he woke up in the middle of the night, his cell phone beeping at him from the spot on the floor where he’d left his jeans, and saw that there was another text from his sister, he realized why Cate was so dangerous.

  Sonya wanted him to know that people were asking about Julia. She wanted to know what Soren wanted her to say. Soren took his rescue dog Desi for a long walk and tried to think.

  But Soren wasn’t thinking about that. He was thinking about how he hadn’t lost himself like that since Julia.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  Cate woke up wet.

  It took her a while to realize the dream she’d been having was more of a memory, that it had all been real, and that it was Soren’s arms around her, his bulk at her back. His cock pressing against her ass.

  She had never felt so lucky in her life.

  He’d held her close, his big arms wrapping around her tightly. They’d fallen asleep like that. Or, more accurately, passed out.

  Cate hadn’t known it was possible to…do what they had done. “Fuck” wasn’t the right word for it. It was like they’d ravished each other. The man she knew as supremely controlled, as reserved, had unleashed himself, and it had been completely overwhelming. He was right: she wouldn’t have been ready for that right away. Would anybody?

  She smiled to herself and nuzzled his arm. Was he really like that with every woman he’d slept with? She couldn’t imagine, and, if she were honest, didn’t like to think too much about that. She preferred to think about Soren. He was like a hurricane; more than that, he had made her just as wild. She couldn’t get enough of him. Had begged him for more until she nearly lost her voice.

  The idea that she’d inspired that in him, that he’d wanted her that much…God, she wanted him all over again. Even though it had been different than what she expected, less controlled games and power plays, and more wild, feral possession, she wanted it. She wanted whatever she could get from this sexual machine in bed with her. Spanmore wild,p>

  And she had a whole weekend.

  “You’re up,” he said from behind her, and moved his hand to play her breasts.

  Cate smiled into his arm again, and kissed it.

  “I’m up,” she said and wiggled against him.

  In response he wrapped his other arm around her, the one she’d rested her head on, and moved his hand between her legs, where he felt her wetness.

  “Good,” he said, his voice guttural and gruff in her ear. “Today,” he said, “we play.”

  Cate’s breath hitched. Then he slapped her ass.

  “Go get ready,” he ordered. “Bathroom. Do what you need to do. You’re gonna be mine for hours.”

  She almost complained as he released her, noting how much safer the world felt when he was holding her, no matter how crazy it seemed. She couldn’t even look at him as she got up and made her way to the bathroom, finding her weekend bag there—when had he had time to do that?—feeling more and more nervous with every step away from him.

  No, “nervous” wasn’t the right word. Or maybe it was? Nervous, and riddled with anticipation, and making herself crazy.

  Cate took more care with her morning ritual than she would have otherwise, Soren’s warning that she was about to be his for hours ringing in her ears. Every movement, every gesture, every little beautification ritual that she normally took for granted became about this. About him. About whatever he had planned for her.

  It made her shiver with fear and delight and tension.

  Even his voice had been different. Last night had been…primal. This morning he’d used the Dom voice she’d come to know and love, the voice that resonated so deeply inside her.

  She was ready. Wasn’t she?

  “Cate!” he said from the other side of the door. “Are you hiding?”

  “No,” she said, opening it.

  Soren had put on his jeans but nothing else, and Cate allowed herself a long, delicious moment to ogle him. He was even more built than he looked under those t-shirts he wore, his muscles moving gently under that golden skin, dusted with a light layer of blond hair. And she hadn’t had time to notice his tattoos earlier, not in detail—there was a giant ship on his left pec, adrift in a stormy sea, the inky waves drifting down his ribcage and abs. It was beautiful, if not as beautiful as the man himself.

  “Why did you put clothes on?” he asked, frowning.

  “Just a reflex,” she said, S ked, frolooking down. It was her usual weekend get up, a t-shirt and shorts. “You don’t like it?”

  “I like you naked,” he said.

  “I like your ink,” she said.

  Soren grinned, his blue eyes piercing hers. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the type before I got to know you,” he said.

  “Would you have pegged me for a submissive?”

  “From the moment I touched you,” he said.

  Cate clenched, but something inside her felt light and beautiful.

  “Yes, sir,” she whispered.

  “Good,” he said, rubbing his stubbly chin. “That was good, Cate. Now get back over to the bed. In the center, on your knees and naked.”

  In the center of the bed, on brand new ivory sheets th
at he must have changed when she was in the bathroom, lay a single item.

  A black blindfold.

  Cate shed her clothes as quickly as she could, hopping toward the bed with her shorts around one ankle and her shirt over her head—really, what had she been thinking?—earning that low, deep laugh that she loved to hear, even if it was because she was secretly kind of a goofball. Nobody ever got to see the goofball side of her, and now she was letting it slip. That seemed…important, somehow.

  But now was not the time to think about that.

  She was staring at the blindfold, suddenly very conscious of how naked she was.

  “Now,” he said.

  She climbed up on the bed, eying the blindfold. Was she supposed to tie it on herself? That would be awkward. It would slip. What if it slipped? What if—

  “Cate.”

  She swallowed. She was nervous. She was more nervous than she’d thought. She crawled to the center of the bed on her knees, her heart beating a wild rhythm in her chest, and waited.

  “Face the headboard.” She felt his weight on the bed and her breathing quickened. What was he planning?

  “Pick up the blindfold,” he said, coming around her side, “and hand it to me.”

  Ok. She could manage this. Cate Kennedy could manage handing her Dom—her Dom—an instrument of domination.

  She handled it as though it were fragile and precious. She could hear Soren’s smile in what he said next.

  “Thank me for it,” he said as he lowered it over her eyes.

  “Thank you, Soren,” she said. And she meant it.

  She couldn’t see a thing.

  It was a heavy black blindfold, meant to completely block out all light, and it worked. She knew if she wore it long enough she might begin to see stars or colored shapes the way she had when she’d closed her eyes as a child as her brain supplied stimulation where none was forthcoming. Her brain in particular was used to having something to do. For the first time she wondered how it might respond—how she might respond—to the absence of everything.

  “Can you see?” he asked.

  “Not a thing,” she said.

  “Good.”

  Cate gasped slightly as Soren pulled her hair away from her neck, the sudden touch jolting her, and giving her a preview of what it might be like when she couldn’t see what was coming. Jesus. It was powerful.

  Soren kissed her neck, his fingers dancing along her shoulders, down her arms, all the way to her wrists. Every touch brought an answering throb between her legs.

  “Put your wrists behind your back,” he said.

  For the first time, Cate hesitated. Soren’s touch was gentle, reassuring, but still, she already felt disoriented and out of control because of the blindfold. And she’d only been bound the once, at the club.

  “What’s your safeword?” Soren asked.

  “Red,” she said.

  “Your slow word?”

  “Yellow.”

  “And what are you?”

  Cate licked her lips. “I’m your submissive,” she said.

  She thought she detected a pause. Had she answered incorrectly? She’d told the truth. She’d…

  “That’s what we’re going to find out, sweetheart,” he said. “This weekend is about submission. You need to understand what it really means to be completely under my control. I want to take you to subspace. I want to give you…”

  Subspace? She’d read about it, but…

  He stopped. His hands dropped her wrists and started their movements again, light, feathery, brushing her skin in a delicate tease.

  “I love the way you feel,” he said, almost to himself.

  And then he spanked h S hepan>

  Cate let out a yelp that turned into a moan, the conflicting sensations overwhelming her with an intensity that she hadn’t known was possible. And that was just one touch, one slap. She panted, trying to keep her bearings.

  “I love the way you touch me,” she said.

  “I want to give you that,” he said again. “And then I want to take you again, for as long as I want, however I want, whenever I want, just because I want to. Because I can. Because that is my right.”

  He reached around and viciously grabbed her breast, dragging another moan from her throat.

  Cate tried to catch her breath and bit her lip. She could tell her nipples were already hard as diamonds, and if he tested her again, he’d find her wet.

  “But that means you have to let go. You have to really submit. Accept that you’re mine for as long as we’re here.”

  “I can do that, sir,” she said.

  “We’ll see,” he said.

  He brought her hands behind her back. The cuffs he put on her were made of soft leather, and they were just tight enough to remind her of her position without causing any undue pain. Just the feel of them, and the knowledge that she was now defenseless, turned the tension in her core a little higher.

  She heard something, then. Rustling. Like he was rearranging pillows. And then something cool and firm against the front of her thighs.

  Oh God, not knowing what was happening was driving her wild.

  “Spread your legs,” he said. “More. I want full access to that beautiful pussy.”

  Soren’s large hand encircled the back of her neck and squeezed, just a little bit. Just enough for Cate to feel the total power he had over her. It made her feel lightheaded, even when she couldn’t see.

  “Down,” he said, and he didn’t wait—he pushed her forward, bending her over the thing he’d put in front of her.

  It was some kind of firm pillow, something made to support her so she could be bent over in the most accessible way possible with her hands still bound behind her back. Her ass was in the air, her legs spread, her pussy exposed to the cool air. She put her head to the side, resting her cheek on another pillow, and thought about what she must look like. She couldn’t help it, she was a visual person—or she’d thought she was—and she knew she must look obscene.

  It was thrilling.

  Oh God, what would he do to her?

  “Cate,” he said, and she jumped, because somehow he was right b Se w

  Cate’s mind went into overdrive, already wanting to speak, to ask questions, even just to have their usual banter, anything at all. She licked her lips and wondered how she was going to get through this. Not being able to speak made it the one thing she wanted to do, and taking away another outlet for her overactive brain left her other senses even more heightened. She was listening now, for anything and everything, for any clue as to what he was doing.

  Well, she was listening until he gently lifted her head and put headphones on her.

  “These are noise-canceling, top of the line,” he said, lifting one side up. “Are you all right?”

  He waited a minute. Then it sounded like he smiled. “You can speak to answer a direct question.”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “I think…yes. I’m…I don’t know if I’m scared. I’m something.”

  “Yes, you are,” he said, and she felt his large hand on her ass, caressing her. “You are mine, Cate. You see, hear, and feel what I want you to. Mine. And I want to send you to subspace, so you’ll know for sure.”

  Know what? She wanted to scream it out as he secured the headphones and she lost her remaining sense. All she had left now was touch, and as her brain refocused she became hyperaware of all the different things touching her body.

  And of all the things that might touch her body.

  What had he meant? That maybe she didn’t know what she wanted? Maybe that was fair, maybe that was reasonable. She’d never submitted like this before, she’d never…

  He touched her and it all stopped.

  Cate’s body jerked awake at the stimulus, just a touch on her cheek, her cheek, and it had felt like he’d touched her clit with an industrial-strength vibrator. Her chest heaved under her and her arms strained at her bonds and everything felt alive and wonderfully awake.

  She wanted
to tell him that.

  But he didn’t want her to speak. He wanted her to experience.

  Cate licked her lips and took another deep breath.

  She was rewarded with another touch, something she felt more prepared for, something that felt rich and deep and intense on her inner thigh. She had no idea what it had been—not his hand, not his finger. So light, so delicate, and yet it had a lit a fire in its wake. It had been sweet as sugar.

  Next was the spice.

  Something struck the backs of h She wake.er thighs and she keened, her back arching, her chest heaving. The sharp sensation—a flogger? A crop?—had emptied her head of all remaining thoughts and filled it instead with brilliant, blinding light, receding like a tide to leave only the throbbing pressure between her legs.

  She cried out every time he touched her after that. Every soft caress, every sharp blow, every unexpected dip between her legs. Every sensation drove her higher and higher, spiraling up beyond anything she’d thought possible, until she felt like one giant, raw nerve, like she vibrated with the feeling of simply being in the world and knowing she was his.

  And then she felt the lube.

  Cold, so very cold, and thick, and dropping onto her ass from above. This was the one thing she knew now: He was going to put something in her ass.

  She was panting. Her hands opening and closing in ineffectual little fists, her abs contracted, her pussy aching for attention. She felt his finger first, warm and calloused from playing the guitar, familiar by now, circling, applying pressure. It felt so good when he did that. It felt so good that she found herself trying to move with him, her hips betraying her, her body focusing on these new nerves that she’d neglected her whole life.

  The first finger he pushed inside her felt impossible, felt wrong, and then it felt amazing.

  The second, even better.

  Cate had no idea of the noises she was making, hearing only the dull bass of the sounds she made echo in her own head. She had no control over them, either. She had no control over anything.