Saving Micah (Sequel to Conquering Jude)

by Dakota Trace

  “I understand your frustration, Caelan. It’s no less than mine. Not only did Olivia entrust me with the safety of her sub, but he got hurt on my watch. Christ, he was here with the woman two nights ago and I did everything but thrust him into her arms.”

  “Why the hell did you do that?” She could hear him playing with those infernal silver pendulum balls.

  “Quit playing with your balls and listen to me as I explain this again to your stubborn Irish ass. He was starving – denying what he needs. He hasn’t been coming into the club for release and I’m not talking about the sexual kind.”

  A frustrated noise filtered through the phone as the balls quieted on the other end.

  “How do you know just because he wasn’t coming into your club, he wasn’t finding it elsewhere? That’s all I’m saying. It can’t hurt to check the other clubs.”

  “According to my Sampson, the man’s been living like a monk since he arrived at Thanksgiving, taking a refuge in a blues bar near his office instead of coming to the club. I saw him the night he was here. There is no way in blue hell the man has been getting the release he needs anywhere else. He was wound tighter than a six day clock.” She pulled a hand thru her ginger colored hair. “But if it’ll make you feel better, then I’ll call around to some of the other clubs.”

  “But now he’s in the hospital from being attacked. Not only once but twice!”

  She drummed her fingers harder on the desk. “I’m well aware of the fact, Doherty, and if I weren’t such good friends with your best friend, I’d tell you where to stick it. I’ve got my best man on it and he’s gotten a lead on the member who gave the woman the pass. Once we talk to him, we’ll hopefully find out what the Domme’s name is.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Believe me there’ll be dire consequences. She’ll never be able to set foot in any club in New Orleans or the entire South once I get done with her – if she’s still alive.”

  After promising to call him if anything came up, she disconnected the call. She leaned back against her chair when there was a soft knock on her office door. Standing, she walked towards the door. Opening it, she smiled as she saw her submissive, Sampson, kneeling in front of the doorway. In between his splayed denim-covered legs was a manila folder. “Jeans, slave?”

  Sampson shook his head, his long blond hair flying. “I’m sorry, Mistress. You said you wanted this right away and I just got done meeting with Dierks’s daughter.” He lifted his head and there was a silent plea in his eyes. “I don’t feel comfortable sitting in the same room with her in my normal attire.”

  She slowly looked him up and down. “You don’t find the clothing I provide for you comfortable, slave? They cover you adequately.”

  A tight laugh escaped him. “Cover yes, Mistress – conceal no.” He shrugged his massive shoulders. “The last time I met with her, she attempted to fondle me – I didn’t wish for a repeat.”

  “She what?” Disbelief coursed through her. “You were wearing your collar, correct?”

  His eyes widened as hurt filled them. “Of course, Mistress. I haven’t taken it off since you placed it on me.”

  “Did you inform her of your taken status?”

  He nodded. “Yes, Mistress. We were here in the club.”

  “And you didn’t feel it was important to inform me about another Domme thinking it was okay to touch what was mine?”

  He looked away. “I…she was drunk, Mistress – she wasn’t in the right frame of mind.” He slowly moved to stand. “Forgive me, Mistress. I should’ve told you, but I didn’t want you to revoke her privileges.”

  She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “It happened only once?”

  He nodded. “Yes, Mistress.”

  “But it was enough to make you feel uncomfortable with baring your body inside my club.”

  His lips parted but gave a short nod. “Just if I’m around her when I’m alone.”

  “I shall speak to her on this matter, Sampson. No Domme touches you without my permission. Do you want that to change?”

  He shook his head frantically. “No, Mistress!”

  “Good. Now, let’s put this behind us.” She gestured to the folder. “What do you have for me?”

  “Dierks found Wasterson for us. He’ll be back in town tomorrow for a business meeting at Café Giovanni. He has dinner arrangements at…” He flipped open the manila folder. “…at seven with Marcus Landry – his Assistant Vice-President of Finance.”

  “Good work, Sampson. Did you get all the other information I requested?”

  “Yes, Mistress – it’s in the folder.”

  She flipped the folder closed with the toe of her boot. “Good. I’ll call the Irish bastard later.”

  “Later, Mistress?” His tone was hopeful.

  “Much later. I have a naughty sub to deal with first.” When he groaned, she smiled. “Go fetch my crop, Sampson.”

  As he scrambled to his feet and darted down the hall, she leaned over to retrieve the forgotten folder. It wouldn’t do to have the contents scattered all over her office as they played. Caelan could wait as could Dierk’s daughter - but her Sampson could not.

  * * * *

  Micah groaned as he came to again. The pain in his ass seemed stronger than yesterday and his neck for some reason hurt like hell. When he opened his eyes and saw a security guard sitting by his bedside reading a magazine, it all came back in a rush. The attack by Leland and his bitch of Mistress, of him struggling to keep her from placing the collar around his neck. His hands flew to his neck. The pain he felt at his own touch was nothing like his relief that there was no collar.

  He must have made a noise because the man looked up from his magazine. “I see you’re finally awake. The nurse told me you should be coming to soon.”

  Micah opened his mouth to speak and nothing more than a croak came out.

  The man held up his hand. “Don’t speak. The doctor said your vocal chords were bruised and until the swelling comes back down, it’ll be painful to talk.” Leaning over, he grabbed a familiar small tablet and pen. “Here. Write down anything you want to ask.”

  Micah shifted and lifted a sore arm to accept the items. He scowled as he noticed the fine tremor in his hands. Must be from the meds.

  After he finally managed to click the pen, he scrawled his first question on the paper. Showing it to the man, he waited as the man burst out laughing.

  “My name is Ethan, and no, I didn’t escape from some reservation and steal some guard’s clothing. I’m the Head of Security here at the hospital.” He fingered one of his braids. “Besides one of your lovers is a long-time friend of mine from the Rangers.”

  Micah frowned and spoke without thinking. “Lover?” he croaked, his throat burning.

  “Jude Larson?” Ethan gave him a puzzled look.

  He opened his mouth and Ethan interrupted him. “Hey, rest your throat- use the tablet or that Mistress of yours will kick my ass.”

  Micah reached for the tablet. The man was obvious deluded. He had no Mistress nor was he Jude Larson’s lover. His skin crawled at the idea of even allowing the man to touch him. Scrawling on the tablet, he handed it to Ethan. The man accepted it, scanned it quickly before the corners of his mouth tugged upwards with a grin.

  “Boy, you have some rather strange euphemisms – but no I haven’t lost my brains in the bat shit. Mistress Olivia told me you might deny your relationship with her and Dickens.” He leaned forward and stared at Micah.

  Micah shifted uncomfortably under his intense stare, wondering what the man saw that was so interesting, and who the hell Dickens was.

  “Jude.” Ethan said softly. “You see, while I don’t understand exactly what you get out of submitting to a woman, I can’t believe you’re going to let what happened to you to be an excuse for letting them slip through your hands. I’d be grasping on tightly with both hands if I had a woman, let alone a man and woman, like the two of them, who are moving hell and earth to protect your stubborn ass.” He braced hi
s arms on the bed railing and leaned in. “But I need you to understand this. If you deliberately hurt my friend, I’ll take it very personally. Jude has been through hell, and after seeing the connection between him and your Mistress, I’ll be extremely pissed if you do anything to ruin it.”

  Micah flinched. Jesus Christ, after everything I’ve been through of late, who does this ass think he is threatening me? Narrowing his eyes, he glared at the man before opening his mouth and croaking out a reply. “Take your threats and shove them up your ass – I don’t need this shit.” Rolling over onto his side, he gave the man his back, wishing to hell that everyone would leave him alone.

  * * * *

  Olivia moaned heatedly into Jude’s mouth as he pressed her up against the closed door of their hotel room. Logically she knew they should be packing their stuff up to move to the safe house Ethan had found for them through a friend. It was his friend’s vacation home just outside of New Orleans. It’d be the perfect place for Micah to recuperate while they were trying to locate his attacker.

  In fact she’d been planning on doing just that until she saw the raw need in Jude’s eyes. He had laid everything on the line at the hospital. Added to the reality of seeing the dark bruises around Micah’s throat had driven her sub to the point he needed the physical connection between them to assure he still belonged to and was loved by her. And as much as he was there to see to her needs, just as he had this morning, as his Domme it was her turn to give him what he needed.

  She was breathing heavily when his firm lips left hers. Threading her fingers through his hair, she pulled his head back from where he was suckling at her delicate skin covering her pulse. “Look at me, pet.” Despite the huskiness of her voice, the command was still there.

  “Mistress?” His eyes were glazed with passion. His lips were swollen and slightly damp from their kiss. The flush covering his cheeks was a testament to her effect on him and she loved it, but this was about giving him what he needed.

  “What do you need? Do you want to fuck me into the wall?”

  He growled deep in his chest and nodded. “Fuck yeah. Right here and now.” His hands moved to the waistband of her leggings, the fingers teasing the soft swell of her lower stomach. “I want to drill you through the door until the maids down the hall are jealous of how hard I’m fucking you.”

  “All right. Strip me, pet. Take off what you need to, then I want you inside me.” She leaned forward and nipped his chin before moving down the underside of his jaw. She spoke between pressing small stinging kisses to his exposed throat. “You have…exactly thirty seconds…to… get inside… of me...before I punish…” She squeezed his ass with one hand. “…this tight ass.”

  She felt him swallow against her lips, before a harsh expletive exploded from his mouth. He jerked free of her, grabbed her leggings and yanked them down. She smiled as they tangled around the top of her knee high boots. His impatience hadn’t taken into consideration that he’d have to remove them first.

  Although if she’d thought that would stop her lover, she’d misjudged his need. The sound of fabric ripping was chased by the feel of two thick fingers sliding inside of her – readying her for him. She moaned as his thumb rubbed over her clit.

  “So wet...gotta taste you.” She gave a muffled scream as he dropped to his knees and buried his face between her legs. The quick stabbing of his tongue inside of her along with the feel of his nose pressed against her clit had her trembling on the edge of coming. Burying her fingers in his hair, she rode his agile tongue. She was so close.

  “Oh my God!” Gritting her teeth at the oncoming orgasm, she trembled, her knees weakening.

  A low growl reverberated against her folds before he jerked away from her. “Not yet.” His hair was disheveled from her fingers, but it was the wild look in his eyes which nearly sent her over the edge she was teetering on. “Thirty seconds...” he gasped, before spinning her around to face the door. Pressing her up against it, he picked her up off her feet. A shocked cry tore from her throat at the blunt feel of his cockhead breaching her before she was filled with his thick length. She hadn’t even heard him unfasten his jeans.

  “Fuck me!” She pushed back trying to fuck herself on him but unable to get any purchase against the door to make it happen. As if he was an inmate having his first conjugal visit, Jude began to fuck her, sending waves of dizzying pleasure throughout her extremities. Even when babbling incoherent words in her native tongue escaped her, he didn’t stop but continued to drive in and out of her in a hard fast rhythm. A sharp, deep-felt squeal flew past her lips as her body incinerated in his arms.

  “Yes! Goddamn it, so fucking tight, your pussy is milking my cock.” His grip tightened painfully on her hips. “Fuck…gonna come….can I, Mistress?” His plea was ragged even as he continued to pound into her.

  “Fuck yes. Come for me…” Using her palms to push against the door, she pressed back hard against his hold. He wrapped an arm around her waist and used it as leverage to fuck deeper into her. Her full-fledged scream filled the room along with his hoarse grunts as he rode her even harder - if that was possible.

  “Gonna fill you full.” His promise was followed by a howl as he arched, continuing to work her body up and down on his as if she were his own personal sex toy. Her body tightened threateningly as he pushed hard against her cervix.

  “Oh fuck.” She groaned as another climax struck her without warning - heat bathed her insides. While it didn’t happen often when they did climax at the same time, it blew her entire world apart, as her pussy continued to milk every drop of seed her sub had to give her. When Jude sank to his knees, still cradling her, he groaned.

  “Son of a bitch.” His head fell to her shoulder, while he shivered as her muscles clenched around him one last time. “Fuck…so long since I’ve felt that…” He wrapped her tight in his arms as they both came down from the intense coupling.

  Moments later there was a pounding on the door. “Housekeeping! Is everything okay in there?”

  “Go away!” Jude roared, but Olivia giggled. He’d kept his promise to make her scream so loudly that the housekeepers would be jealous.

  Chapter Six

  Olivia knew she wasn’t walking funny and the people around them shouldn’t be able to tell Jude had just fucked her brains out, but as she passed several nurses and doctors they barely noticed her. Perhaps it’s because I feel so raw and exposed. When they reached Micah’s new room, Jude drew her into his arms for a quick hug and kiss.

  “Don’t let that stubborn bastard see you sweat, Mistress.” He nuzzled her ear. “He needs your tough Domme bitch while we’re springing him.”

  Resting her head on his chest, she nodded. “You think so, pet?”

  His broad palm rubbed over her back. “Yes I do. He’s gonna try to fight us on this. I’ve already spoken to White Hawk while you were in the shower.”

  She stepped back to gaze into his eyes. “And?”

  “Micah’s being his normal stubborn assed self. When he woke up, he told Ethan off and told him he was crazier than bat-shit if he thought he was going anywhere with us. “

  The humor of her other sub’s response wasn’t lost on her. She knew her Micah all too well. “We’ll see about that. If he wants to play the defiant sub, then I guess I’ll just have to play the bad-ass Domme who won’t accept no for answer.”

  Jude gave her an impish grin. “Of course! Then when we get him back to the safe house, where there are no prying eyes, you can give him the love he deserves but doesn’t think he needs.”

  But what about you, my precious pet? After what happened, it’s doubtful he’ll allow you to ever touch him again. At least not without a lot of convincing on our parts. But her unvoiced concern never had the chance to be verbalized as some shouting and the sounds of a struggle came from inside the room.

  * * * *

  Micah cursed under his breath while he struggled with the IV pole. Behind him, the idiot White Hawk was laughing at his progress,
after he’d turned down the man’s offer to help him to the bathroom. He was a grown man, he hadn’t needed help going to the bathroom since he was a toddler – he wasn’t going to start needing it again now. With the IV pole in front of him, he wasn’t even strong enough to push it over the slight lip going into the bathroom. Embarrassment heated his cheeks when he felt the cool breeze fly up his backside. He thanked God he was black and it didn’t show. He just knew his ass was hanging out the back of the damned hospital gown, giving Ethan a clear view of his black hind end - stitches and all.