Conviction

by Jane Henry

  “Fuck yes it does.” I plunge into her, hard, claiming what’s mine, claiming what she grants me.

  “Mine,” I say with another hard thrust. “Mine,” I repeat, her hot ass against my skin. “Mine.” I reach for her breasts and palm them harshly, tweaking her nipples with punishing clamps of my fingers. “Come, Zoe. Let go.”

  She shatters her release as I chase my own orgasm, a wordless, brutal melding of bliss and groans. I fall beside her, our bodies still entwined. I lower my mouth to the tattoo on her shoulder and give her the softest kiss. The savage within me now put to rest, I’m consumed with the primal need to take care of her. I withdraw from her and reach to the side of the bed to grab my t-shirt to clean her up. The worry lines between her eyes are gone, a look of utter peace on her face, her eyes closed.

  “I needed that, Braxton,” she whispers. One eye opens. “Sir?” She looks shy saying that to me now.

  I lean down and kiss her cheek. “I know you did, babygirl. I did, too.” I don’t punish her for calling me by name now. There will be times when she needs me to be her sir, and times when she needs me her equal.

  I make my way to the bathroom and clean up, then instruct her to do the same. I can see the how fatigued she is, her whole body slumps against the ivory sink as she taps her toothbrush and sets it down.

  “Come here, baby.” I open up my arms behind her and she turns to me, lifting her arms like a little girl. I tuck her into my chest, welcoming the tight grip, and just let her burrow into me. During the light of day, she won’t let me see that she needs to be held. When she’s stripped down and sated, I’ll show her she can trust me. Hell, I need to hold her. Without another word, I release her, bend down, and lift her up against my chest. Her head falls to my shoulder, and she releases a soft sigh. She’s as supple as I’ve ever seen her, quiet and subdued. At peace, even. I’ve torn down her walls and she now knows that she can trust me.

  “Let’s get you to bed.” My voice is strangely husky in the quiet room. With long strides, I bring her to bed and lay her on the mattress. Something shifted in her tonight. Or was it today? She rests her head on the pillow, and I lift the crumpled blanket, smoothing it over her, then join her in bed.

  Her eyes no longer look tired, and when I lay down beside her, she looks up at me with curiosity. “What other kinky things do you like?” she whispers. “I think we’ve got spanking covered. You said bondage?”

  I didn’t expect her to be chatty, so I think for a moment before replying. “I like bondage,” I say. “It’s sexy, and I like the control.”

  “Shocking,” she says with a giggle, tucking her hands under her chin. I love the snarky Zoe but having her here like this, soft and sweet, without the defensive edge she normally has, I can’t help but wonder how I’ll keep her here. I reach out and tuck a wisp of hair behind her ear, then gently stroke her head, letting my fingers rake through the soft black hair.

  “You can be very gentle for a big, scary dom,” she whispers, her lips tipping up into a barely-there smile.

  “Big, scary dom?” I ask with a grin. We’re so close I can smell her faintly floral scent and hear the soft whisper of her breath on the pillow. I picked a quaint little hotel, with excellent reviews, and I’m glad I did. It’s cozy and warm in here, and she looks so pretty with the ivory, embroidered pillowcase behind her head.

  “Mhm,” she breathes. “You just spanked me with your belt, dude.”

  I shrug. “True.” And I’d do it again if I needed to. I’d do it again if she needed me to.

  “A little pain play… spanking… bondage. Yeah those are my favorites.”

  Her eyes narrow a bit. “So why do you have a medical exam bed in your playroom?”

  “Yeah, that’s not an exam table. That’s where I like to play with wax. Wax gets messy and I don’t like it near my bed.”

  I watch as her shoulders go up and down while she breathes. “Yes,” she murmurs. “I could see that. But… what do you do with the wax?”

  “I melt it, carefully, and paint you with it.”

  She blinks in surprise. “Really?”

  “Well, paint might be a stretch. It can burn, so I’m careful, but a little pain enhances the whole thing. You’ll see. I’ll show you when we get back.” I pause. “A little electric play can be hot. Some breath play. Something tells me you wouldn’t be game for that, though.”

  She frowns, her pretty blue eyes fixed on me. “Would that involve those hoods?”

  I shake my head. “Not necessarily.”

  We lay there in the quiet, just the sounds of our breathing and far away another door opening and closing. “Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?”

  She doesn’t blink or even look away, but keeps her eyes trained on me steadily. “The part where you took your belt to my ass? Or the part where I called you sir and begged to come?”

  I shake my head slowly. “No, baby.” I need to know. How can I protect her if I don’t know? “The part when you checked out at the school.”

  “Oh,” she says in a little voice, and now her eyes leave mine. She reaches her hand out to stroke her fingers along my shoulders. With my arms under my pillow, the muscles on my shoulders bulge. Slowly, as if she’s stroking a sleeping lion, she runs her fingers along my bare skin. The touch is gentle and sweet. Touching me must soothe her because she doesn’t stop the soft stroking while she speaks.

  “I was raised in foster care and abused.” It surprises me how she speaks without preamble, just telling me exactly what happened. “The last man who was my guardian was principal of the school where I went until high school. He was an evil man.” I don’t say anything as she speaks, giving her the space she needs to tell me what she needs to, in the time she’s comfortable with. “I wasn’t his only foster child. He was an angry, volatile person, who took in children to make himself look better. But he hated us. I remember being locked in closets and told that I was stupid and slapped around.”

  I think of my own sweet Devin, and a flare of anger heats my gut. She continues, still running her fingers along my arms and now my back, tracing the muscles methodically. “The other teachers at the school would back him up. There were no places to go that were safe.” She smiles sadly. “So that’s why I decided to become an officer.”

  And look where that brought her. She literally has no safe place, nowhere she could turn to as a child and now as an adult. But she isn’t alone anymore. She doesn’t have to face this by herself.

  “And that’s why you need to see justice served,” I supply. She hasn’t said much, but it was enough.

  “Yup.”

  She takes in another deep breath and lets it out. “I like your muscles,” she says with a smile. “You’re strong.”

  She goes to pull her hand away and I take it in mine, bringing her fingers to my lips. “Thank you.”

  She frowns. “For what?”

  “For trusting me. Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

  She shakes her head and closes her eyes, and now she looks as tired as she should be. “Get some rest, Zoe,” I instruct. “Sleep now.”

  Obediently, she closes her eyes, but as I watch, she tosses and turns and can’t seem to get comfortable. Finally, I reach for her, draw her onto my chest, and hold her close. Her cheek on my chest, I feel her whole body relax. I stay awake for a long while, holding her, as her soft breathing fades into rhythmic slumber. I don’t know how long I’ll have with her like this. I want it to last. But there are only so many things I can control.

  Chapter 10

  Zoe

  When I wake the next morning, I feel more well rested than I have in a long, long time. I think sometimes even in sleep, I’m on alert, ready to defend myself if the need arises. But last night… last night, something shifted. He tapped into a part of me I don’t ever reveal to others. A soft, vulnerable side of me even I’m unfamiliar with.

  He spanked me and fucked me, peeling away the layers of self-protection I have built for mys
elf. Hell, I even told him about the things I don’t speak of. I close my eyes briefly. It helps if I can pretend I’m still asleep. I can feel Braxton behind me, my back to his front. His large, warm hand rests on my hip, and when I move closer to him I can feel his warmth beside me. Slow breathing indicates to me he’s still asleep, but I won’t be able to tell unless I look at him. I let myself relive the night.

  The way he unfastened his belt, his eyes alight with determination and intensity. The snap of his belt on my naked skin, the way it burned hot and deep, marking me as his. The way he’d made me climax, my head thrown back and breath frozen in my lungs, my body seizing as I rode the throes of passion and ecstasy.

  Then the way we talked, whispering in the darkness, a borrowed place and time where trusts are kept, and hushed secrets given voice. He listened. Then he held me until I fell asleep.

  My heart belongs to this man, and I’m powerless to stop it. I’m never powerless to anything. Where do we go from here?

  “Morning,” he says with a raspy, early morning grumble, and I feel him press more firmly behind me.

  “Morning,” I say with a giggle. He playfully slaps my ass, then I’m squealing, as his arm snakes under me and I’m lifted straight off the bed and into his arms, then planted belly-down atop him. I can tell by the way his cock presses into my belly that he wants me. Excellent.

  “You sleep well?” he asks, tucking my hair behind my ear in what’s become his signature move.

  “Mhm,” I say, smiling at him. Somehow being around him makes me feel soft, the anger curbed in the light of his quiet presence.

  “Good,” he says, the humor fading from his eyes. “Because today we have a big day ahead of us. Zack called early this morning. You were still asleep, but I took the call.”

  Wow. I must’ve really been totally zoned out.

  “Did he?” Curiosity bubbles up within me and I try to push away but he holds my wrists fast.

  “Uh uh. You’re gonna listen, babe.”

  I nod and bite back the irritation that threatens to make me lost my temper. “Go on.”

  He watches me carefully before he continues. “Seems Antonia Zandetti’s friend unearthed some information involving Senator Malloy.”

  “You mean presidential candidate Senator Malloy?”

  “The very same.”

  “I see.” I immediately conjure up an image of Malloy. Red-faced, with heavy jowls and beady eyes, he’s bought his way up to the top and managed to pocket big name corporations. I don’t know much else about him, except that he has major connections and he’s running for fucking president.

  “Jesus.” I breathe in deep. It seems the corruption runs far deeper than a cop in a local police department. “And what does that have to do with Daniel Zandetti’s affiliation with Homeland Security?”

  “A lot. Malloy’s been accepting bribes to keep quiet on drug trafficking. We don’t know how far his connections run, but we do know that Malloy’s no innocent, that he was investigated by Antonia’s friend the investigative reporter, who went missing at the same time as Antonia.”

  “So we bring down Malloy,” I say firmly, pushing myself so that I can get off Brax’s chest and go take my shower. If we’re taking down a Senator, I want to move. But before I get far, Brax grabs my wrists and holds me fast, tugging me so that I fall with a little oomph back on his chest.

  “Not so fast, chickie,” he says, which makes me snort. Chickie?

  “I want to move,” I say. “We didn’t come here to sightsee, you know.” I’m feeling a little irritated, and he doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he seems to be paying more attention to me than I feel he needs to. I want him to move his ass and get out of bed so we can get a move on, but instead he’s eyeing me with pursed lips. The next thing I know, he’s got my hair gripped in his hand and his mouth is to my ear.

  “Watch your tone, Zoe.”

  “Fuck tone, Braxton,” I say, throwing his name back at him. He’ll get no sir from me. He releases my hair, sits up, and pushes me off his chest. “Get on your knees.”

  A trace of heat ignites low in my belly, even though I feel the need to press on. “What the hell? Let me go?”

  “Is that a vanilla?”

  I grit my teeth and glare. Hell no.

  “The place where we need to go to track down Antonia doesn’t open for another hour,” he says. “And before we go, I want to be sure you’re in a good place.”

  I blink at him, confused. What’s he talking about? He leans down to me, eyes a glacial blue. “Now do you need me to punish you? You need another spanking already? Because if I have to repeat myself again, that’s exactly where this will go.”

  “God, you’re an asshole,” I mutter.

  He parts his legs. “I’ll teach you how to use that mouth,” he says, a glint of something wicked making me tremble. The embers within me flame to life, and I scoot off the bed and fall to my knees in front of him. I lick my lips. I want to see pleasure in his eyes.

  I swallow, as he lowers his boxers and takes his hard cock in his hand, fisting it. The air in the room feels suddenly warm, a trickle of heat tickling my skin at the sight of him pumping his cock.

  “Please,” I whisper, without realizing what I’m doing I’m closer to him, my mouth at his cock.

  “Open.” I close my eyes and welcome him into my mouth, moaning a little at the salty taste of him on my tongue. I venture a look at him. His eyes have rolled backward, his mouth slightly parted. Yes. Hell, yes. Just as I feel the surge of power I have over him he grips my hair so hard I feel the tug along my scalp while he pumps into me, fucking my mouth.

  “Yes, baby. Jesus, Zoe, just like that.” I slide my tongue along his thick shaft, loving the power this gives me even as he tugs my hair. The spike of pain shoots right between my legs, and I moan with my lips around his cock, whimpering a little.

  “What you gave me last night was beautiful,” he says in my ear. “And fuck if I’m gonna let that go.”

  He pumps so hard in my mouth tears blur my vision, but my heart pounds with every thrust of his hips. The slightest clink of metal warns me before I hear the whizz in the air. Still holding him in my mouth, the lash of his belt reignites the heat on my ass, a line of fire making me throb with need. Jesus Christ. He’s whipping my ass while I suck him off. I’m heady with arousal, muffled moans coming from my mouth as I work his cock with everything I’ve got. I pump his shaft and he thrusts into me. I can hardly breathe, before another lash of fire licks at my ass.

  “Good girl,” he says, his voice thick and harsh. “Don’t you fucking stop or this gets way more real.”

  “Mmm,” is all I say, sucking him hard and fast, my hands on his knees as he brings back the belt and lashes me again. I whimper and nearly gag with another savage thrust. He pulls out of me and bends down to kiss my cheek.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he whispers, before he lifts me up in the air and face plants me on the bed. “Spread those knees. Give that sweet, wet pussy to me.”

  I do what he says, opening my legs for him just before he plunges into me so hard the breath whooshes straight out of me. I can still taste him on my lips, still feel the pain on my scalp. He slaps my ass with his open palm, a loud crack of flesh on flesh awakening the flames of his belt. I’m on the cusp of orgasm when I feel his hot breath on my neck, his raspy voice demanding and harsh.

  “Fucking beg me,” he growls. “If you come before I say, you’ll go another week before I let you come again, and your ass will be mine.”

  I whimper with the need to hit ecstasy.

  “Please,” I moan, tossing my head to the side and arching my back.

  Another slap of his palm has me screaming out loud.

  “Please what?”

  “Please, sir!”

  He grants me ecstasy with two little words. “Come, baby.”

  I scream out my release as he roars out his, riding the waves of pleasure that surge through me until I’m flat on the bed, my chest against the
bedspread and my mouth parted, panting.

  “Good girl,” he says, pushing aside my dampened hair to kiss my cheek. “Now we go take the shower.” He pulls out and I feel him get off the bed. Strangely, my throat feels clogged with tears. What just happened?

  I shift to get off the bed, but a sharp slap to my ass freezes me in place. “Stay there while I clean you up. I’ll tell you when you may go to the bathroom.”

  I hear him padding to the bathroom, then a moment later he returns with a warm, damp cloth. He slides it between my legs and cleans me off. “That’s a girl,” he says. I peek out of the corner of my eyes to see his stern face watching me carefully. I smile. He smiles back.

  “That’s my girl,” he says. “My good girl. There she is. Now up you go, we’re off to shower.”

  What does he mean? I’m the same girl I’ve always been. I might feel a little different but I’m still the same. Still, we need to move now. I want to close in on what we need to do. I need to see Antonia Zandetti with my own eyes and get to the bottom of our purpose here. So I follow him out of bed and to the bathroom. Showering with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. I find myself loving how he takes care of me. He soaps up a washcloth, and when I reach for it, all it takes is one firm shake of his head to tell me no. It’s not so hard to let him take care of me now. Not after last night and this morning.

  He runs the washcloth over my shoulders and back. The warm water steamy, mingled with the pungent, soothing scent of lemongrass fills my senses. He lathers up my hair then gently tips my head back until the water runs clear. He cups his hand around my eyes to shield them from suds. When we’re good and clean, he gets out before me, towels off, then wraps the towel around his waist before lifting another large one and holding it out for me.

  “Step into it,” he orders.

  Without really even thinking about it, I do what he says, letting him towel me off. He takes a second towel and dries my hair. I’m still not used to how light it is, how easily it dries. “Come on, now. Let’s get you changed.”