by Desiree Holt
“Yes.” She couldn’t look at her friend. She knew what was coming.
“That it’s the difference between Doms who respect their subs and those who don’t? Fallon, you have a man who knows what this kind of relationship is all about. Who values it. Don’t throw him away for a cruel bastard who knows how to push all the right buttons for all the wrong reasons.”
Fallon sighed. “You’re right. I know you are.”
“You have a wonderful man who fulfills all your needs, no matter how kinky. Who obviously loves you to distraction and is trying to make sure you’ve got the asshole out of your system so the two of you can move to the next stage of your relationship. Are you willing to give all that up?”
Fallon shook her head. “Of course not. But—”
Claire slammed her glass down on the table. “There are no buts here! Honey, Brian is evil! He fucking brainwashed you and programmed your body. You were little more than a zombie!”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing! The man seduced your mind, made you want things you never in your life would have desired, and turned you into a mindless puppet. I can’t believe you’re still letting him mess with you!”
The heat of shame flushed Fallon’s face. She took a moment to gather her thoughts. Finally, she began, “Think of it like this. Remember when you had that auto accident and the pain in your back wouldn’t go away?”
Claire sighed. “How could I forget? It was months before I felt really human again.”
“And remember how you depended on those pills you took, more and more each day? Until they were the first thing you thought about when you woke up each morning?”
Claire nodded silently.
“I had to move into your house,” Fallon continued. “Locked up even the aspirin bottle until you were clean. I know you’ll never forget that.”
The other woman studied her carefully. “So you’re telling me that Brian Willoughby is like that drug, and it’s still in your system?”
A sick feeling surged through Fallon as she nodded.
“But I did almost the same thing for you,” Claire pointed out. “Kept you here until you were back on your feet. Feeling human. Confident again.”
Fallon pushed her chair back and walked to the edge of the deck, hoping the heat of the sun would warm the sudden chill gripping her. “But psychological addiction is a lot tougher to cure. The need is always there, lurking in my subconscious, just waiting for the right trigger.”
“And you started this relationship with Cord, moved into his house, while knowing all this?”
Fallon whirled to face her friend. “You have no idea how much I pray each day that Cord will be my ultimate cure.”
“Well, missy, you’ve got yourself in a fine fix. But I wouldn’t use his threats against Cord as an excuse for whatever comes next. Cord Jamieson can take care of himself. It’s you I’m worried about. What are you going to do? Put everything you’ve got now in jeopardy over a man whose pleasure comes from fucking your mind?”
Fallon raked her fingers through her hair, brushing it back as if she could brush all the implanted triggers from her brain. “No. Yes. I don’t know! Sometimes I think maybe I should just go to him one last time and get it over with. Maybe it will be so bad this time, it will finally scrub him out of my system. You know?”
Claire shook her head, a sad expression on her face. “You’re talking crazy. The man is dangerous.”
“But maybe I don’t have a choice. I love Cord and I don’t want to lose him. I’ve just got to get my mind clear of this—this—thing with Brian. The way he looks at me. The sound of his voice. The things that draw me back.” She shrugged helplessly. “And maybe that’s the only way I can do it. I just worry about what will happen if I stay with Cord. Brian doesn’t like to lose. He’d crush him without sweating a drop.”
“Brian only has as much power as you’re willing to give him,” Claire reminded her. “You have a good man in your life. Focus on that. And if Brian pierces your brain again, run over here as fast as you can and I’ll help get him out of there.”
Impulsively, Fallon hugged her. “What would I do without you?”
Claire laughed. “Don’t even think of trying to find out. Now, go home to that man of yours before I kick your ass.”
“Okay. But, uh, do you have a pair of shoes I can borrow?”
They looked at each other and laughed, and the edge of Fallon’s tension eased.
Cord had spent the day in mental turmoil. His lunch with Jack Torres had given him a lot of unpleasant thoughts to chew on. Imagining Fallon with a destructive tyrant like Brian Willoughby actually made him sick. He had to be pretty extreme for the BDSM community to shun him, even put out warnings about him.
But the man had somehow seduced Fallon into his particularly brutal brand of D/s relationship, sucking her in until she was trapped. Oh, Cord knew how it worked. Playing the suave, smooth gentleman at first. A caring sexual partner. Ramping up the intense erotic pleasure and pain beyond the bounds of sanity until she reached a point where she craved it.
Fucking with her head. That was how he’d done it. Taking her to new heights, then withholding any pleasure or reward until she was willing to beg. Driving her to a level of madness until she was completely undone. Even her very breath would belong to him. She’d put up with anything in exchange for his approval.
The problem was, Cord had no idea how strong the man’s hold on her might be. If he’d steadily mind-fucked her, just seeing him could trigger certain programmed responses. It was obvious from today’s little run-in that since discovering Fallon again, Brian was on a mission to get her back. Not because he cared about her. Men like him cared about no one but themselves. No, he wanted to retrieve his possession.
Sometimes Cord needed Fallon to misbehave so he could mete out the punishments that drove them both to new levels of pleasure and satisfaction. He could do that now, flog her until they were both exhausted, leave her tied up until her limbs ached, but he didn’t think that would help Fallon. He had to take a different tack.
For one thing, he was the polar opposite of Willoughby as far as Doms were concerned. He didn’t demand complete subjugation. In the bedroom, yes, always, as well as in certain other aspects of a relationship. But he admired a woman with a mind of her own, someone he could be proud of for her accomplishments.
He remembered an attorney he’d known in Dallas. She was all business in her tailored suits, but lying perfectly against her collarbone was a flat necklace of hammered gold. At a meeting, as she’d bent to retrieve her briefcase, Cord was afforded a glimpse of the tiny padlock hooked through a delicate ring at the front of that necklace, and he recognized it for what it really was—a collar. He’d wondered what kind of man might be strong enough to master a woman so bright and self-assured.
Now he knew, because that was how he saw himself and Fallon. He’d seen the strong, confident, independent Fallon. He had to appeal to that woman. Seduce her with intense desire, make her crave it, so there wouldn’t be room in her thoughts for anyone else.
Cord would bind her to him with addictive pleasure, putting the full force of himself as a Dom and all his emotions into it. But also let her know that she was really the one who set the boundaries. That he’d never push her beyond what he knew she could accept. If that didn’t work—
Cord gave himself a mental shake. He didn’t want to think about what would happen in that case. It was becoming more evident to him every day that Fallon Crowe was as necessary a part of his life as breathing. That he loved her, deeply and intensely. She was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He’d been trying to advance their relationship in baby steps, moving slowly, inching toward collaring and wedding vows. He knew there was something disturbing in her past with Brian. He just hadn’t guessed how ominous it truly was.
He checked his watch. Five thirty. Time to shower and shave and set the stage for the evening.
He had just finishe
d filling the tub when he heard her shoes on the hall floor. Poking his head out of the bathroom, he watched her enter the bedroom, trying to read her mental state in every line of her body, every movement. As she dropped her briefcase next to the chair and kicked off her shoes, he sensed a tightness about her, a sense of strain. But that could just be his imagination after the tension of the day and the way things had been lately.
He walked out of the bathroom, a towel knotted at his waist, and slipped behind her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders.
“Want to see how ready I was for you to get home?” he growled low in her ear.
She jumped, jabbing him with her elbow in the process.
“Jesus, Fallon.” He tightened his hands on her arms.
“Ohmigod.” She blew out a breath. “You startled me. I’m sorry.” She turned to face him, rubbing his midriff where she’d poked him. “Did I hurt you?”
He laughed. “Takes a lot more than that to injure me.” He studied her face carefully, trying to read her expression. “Your day go okay?”
Her smile looked just slightly forced. “Now that I’m here with you, it’s just fine.” She pressed her lips to his chest.
“Well, I’m naked—or almost—just as I said I’d be. And the tub is ready and waiting.” He nipped her shoulder. “For after.”
“After?”
“Mm-hmm.” Okay, time to get moving here. He took a step back. “Clothes off,” he ordered. “Now.”
A sparkle lit her eyes and his cock pushed at the towel covering it.
“Yes, Sir.” Her hands trembled slightly as she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it from her shoulders. He hoped the shakiness was in anticipation of what was to come and not anything else. Without the silk of the blouse to shield her breasts, the outlines of the nipple rings were plain against the satin fabric of her bra. Cupping her breasts in his palms, Cord leaned forward and closed his mouth over one nipple, sucking it hard into his mouth.
A little hum buzzed up from her throat, and this time he was sure the quivering was due to the stimulation. He closed his teeth over the ring and tugged, and the sound grew louder. Fallon lifted her hands to his shoulders.
“Hands at your sides,” he instructed, “until I tell you what to do next.”
Her chest rose and fell with the increase in her breathing as he suckled each nipple in turn, biting her through the material of her bra and pulling lightly on the jewelry. When the cloth was soaked, he reached behind her, unclasped the bra, and drew the straps down her arms. As he tossed it to the floor, he placed his lips over the hollow of her throat where her pulse was beating wildly, and sucked. Hard. He knew it would mark her but at the moment, he was all about signifying ownership. To anyone.
“All right. Now the skirt.”
She reached behind, unfastening the button at the waistband and lowering the zipper. In seconds the skirt joined her other garments and she stood in front of him in only a pale-pink thong and very sexy thigh-high stockings.
“Lift your breasts for me. Push them out.”
When she offered them on the palms of her hands, he bent his head and swiped his tongue across the tips, grazing with his teeth then soothing with his tongue. He licked carefully around the thin metal where the rings pierced her nipples and noted that they’d healed very well. He’d been a fanatic about caring for them, cleaning them and applying a healing cream. He’d heard too many horror stories about people who had piercings they hadn’t taken proper care of.
Raising his head, he stared into her eyes, trying to read what she was thinking, but all he saw was heat. And lust. Okay, good enough. He could work with that and go from there.
He walked around her, studying every line of her body. Pausing at her back, he drew the tip of a finger down the cleft of her buttocks. One finger pushed aside the string of her thong and pressed against her tiny hole. The sphincter muscle resisted intrusion, tightening against him.
“Are you still sore?” It hadn’t been that long since he’d punished her with the large plug. “Don’t lie to me.” The last thing he wanted was for her to skew her answers to what she thought he expected. He wasn’t goddamn Willoughby.
“Y-yes, Sir. A little.”
“Okay. We’ll take care of that.” He pulled the thong down and nudged her to step out of it, leaving the thigh-highs in place. “Get up on the bed on your hands and knees.”
From the drawer of the nightstand he took the tube of balm he’d used right after their last session, and again this morning. He also took out a very slim metal wand and covered it liberally with the salve. Spreading the cheeks of her ass with one hand, he used the other to slide the wand in slowly and gently. Her breath hissed through her teeth at the first contact and her muscles tightened.
“Your tissue will warm this,” he told her, “and speed up the healing effects of the balm. It should take care of any lingering burn.”
“Mmm,” she sighed, holding herself still for him.
Once the wand was seated inside her, Cord slid his other hand between her thighs and sought her clit.
“Easy,” he crooned. “Just relax. Remember how good this makes you feel.”
He planned to make her feel good in other ways too. So good she might not even remember her own name.
Holding the wand in place, he brushed his finger back and forth across her clit in an easy rhythm. She trembled, her body stiffening as she responded to the stimulation. When he pressed the flat of his hand against her cunt, her juices soaked him. Good. His plan to drive her crazy with pleasure, to wipe away any crazy need for Willoughby, was going to work.
“How’s that sweet ass, girl?” He placed a kiss on one butt cheek. “Feeling better?”
“Yes.” The word came out on a soft breath. “Sir.”
He stroked the palm of his hand over her pussy, rubbing the puffy lips and making sure each pass caught the tip of her hot bundle of sexual nerves. When he slipped two fingers inside her channel, her walls tightened. He felt the wand in her ass as he slowly stroked his fingers in and out of her sheath.
When she began to rock back and forth on his hand and fingers, he slapped her ass lightly.
“No moving,” he cautioned. “I’ll tell you when to move.”
He placed his hand on her back at the base of her spine and felt her tense beneath his touch, struggling to hold still for him. She moaned in protest when he removed both hands.
“So, you want more? More of my touch? More of what I can give you?” He would make her answer every step of the way.
“Yes, please. Sir.”
Cord slid off the bed and shifted her body until her knees were just at the very edge of the mattress. Kneeling on the floor, he pinched her pussy lips lightly before opening them to expose her fully.
“Do not move,” he ordered. “Stay just this way. And above all, do not come. I’m going to pleasure both of us, but my enjoyment will come from making you crave that orgasm. To desire it more than anything else.” He brushed his thumbs along her swollen lips. “To know that your greatest pleasure comes from me, and the knowledge that I’ll always give you what you want.” He paused. “Because you are mine. Do you understand?”
He held his breath, waiting, jaw clenched when she didn’t answer immediately.
“Well?” he prompted.
“I understand, Sir.” Her swallow was audible. “I do.”
“Say the words again, girl.” His jaw tightened as he again waited for her answer.
“I understand.”
He let out a slow breath, put his head between her thighs and took a long, slow lap of her pink cunt.
Delicious! Her taste was better than any fine wine or aged bourbon, and much more addictive. He sensed the tension in her body as she forced herself to hold still under his assault. He thrust his tongue into her slick channel, curled the tip of it so it scraped her flesh as he withdrew. He did it again and again, then adjusted so he was touching her clit, flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive b
undle of flesh.
Inhaling her spicy scent, he spent long moments tormenting her with his tongue, now inside her opening, now again at her clit. He gave her no opportunity to catch her breath as he teased, pushing her toward the edge of orgasm but never quite letting her reach it.
The walls of her cunt flexed against his tongue, squeezing, as if her body were determined to draw it in and keep it there. He laughed in response, a low, possessive sound.
“Mine to do with as I choose,” he reminded her. “And I choose to drive you crazy.”
Tonight she would beg for release, not because he had driven her there on the knife-edge of pain but because she wanted him more than anything else. Wanted what only he could give her.
Still leaving the thin metal wand in place, he slid beneath her body, urging her forward and adjusting her until her pussy was positioned just over his mouth. Opening the lips again, he lapped at her with touches of his tongue so light, he knew she had to concentrate to feel them. She was dripping now, her liquid soaking his mouth, his chin, everywhere. She was so close to coming, he was sure if he pushed just the right button, she’d explode.
When he heard the low whimper that signaled the edge of an oncoming climax, he stopped, holding her open but not touching her anywhere else. He knew that to be able to tolerate this and still hold off her release, she had to be well into subspace, that place filled only with sensation overload and the needs of the Master.
Releasing her cunt, he moved his hands to her breasts, pinching her nipples then tugging on the rings. When she started to rock, the signal she was nearly to the limit of her control, he reached up and smacked her ass.
“None of that,” he admonished. “When you come tonight, it will be so hard, your entire body will shake. And you’ll come more than once for me. Count on it.”
She made a soft, barely distinguishable sound in her throat but she stopped moving. Cord slid from beneath her and rolled Fallon to her back. Without saying a word, he stretched her out on the bed, positioning her arms over her head and spreading her legs wide. He hoped he could do this the way he wanted, because right now his cock was so hard it was painful. He wanted it in her cunt, in her mouth, in her ass, any of them, all of them.