Bound Obsession (BDSM Erotica) (Club Taboo Book 1)

by Wilder, Veronica

  “I’ll teach you to be a cock tease, cunt!”

  Her body was nearly broken as he kept kicking, punching, and Abigail stopped fighting and hardly whimpered into her makeshift gag. Better to hope for unconsciousness, but it did not come as he ripped what there was of clothing from her body. She thrashed when he fingered her pussy, but Walter slapped just slapped her again.

  “And now I have you all to myself.”

  Walter leaned closer to his ear, and as he gripped her throat, she had no choice but to focus on his cold eyes.

  “You be nice, bitch. Or I’ll tell Serena that you wouldn’t play. Word is that you’re already on thin ice.”

  No choice. She would be without a hope off earning her keep if she didn’t submit, and she no longer had Patrick’s protection. But as Walter entered her, she felt more than rape. Patrick had staked his claim to her body, and she couldn’t get past the feeling of what it was to have him possess her. And if she only got one more thing right in her entire life…

  Moaning no into the gag, Abigail managed to push him away. She found the door locked and pounded with quivering fists as she kept tugging on the doorknob and pulled Walter’s tie from her lips.

  “Help me! Please! Someone---”

  Walter turned her back into the room. He doubled her over with a sharp punch to her stomach, and as Abigail thought that all was lost, she collapsed at his feet.

  “Come here.”

  Wrenching her up by her hair, Abigail cried out again. Walter slammed her body into the wall and forced his tongue into her cunt. Licking and biting around her, inside her, Abigail moaned in anguish and kept trying to fight him off when the door was kicked open.

  “Hey! Private party!”

  Narrowing her eyes, Abigail saw a lithe figure step slowly into view, and as soon as the moonlight hit his frame, she whined her need for salvation.

  “Patrick… please…”

  Walter Ross released her, and as her body crashed to the floor, Walter hiked up his pants and glared at his opponent.

  “So now you want her?” he challenged. “Too late.”

  He hoisted her up by his hair and fondled her breasts.

  “I’m taking her,” Walter said. “And what I’m going to do to her…”

  Abigail cringed as he licked her face, and when he pushed his finger to her cunt, she felt as if she would die in his arms.

  “Look at me.”

  Patrick’s orders were like a lifeline that she clung to with bruised hands. She didn’t know why or how he was here. But she wanted him to hold her again.

  “Why would she go back to you?” Walter challenged. “You were always too soft! Could never handle it.”

  Walter grinded his clothed cock into her quaking ass, and when she tried to squirm away, Walter pulled her closer and hissed.

  “But now you’re with now me, right?”

  Abigail was still in Patrick’s eyes, and as she saw him seething and desperate, she could think of nothing but getting back into his arms. Relaxing her stance, she peered up into Walter’s eyes and forced a smile.

  “Yes… I am.”

  Walter turned her body to his, and she could hear Patrick moaning in despair as her fingers danced towards his cock.

  “Abigail! Don’t! I…”

  “Jesus fucking Christ!”

  As soon as she had his piece in her hand, Abigail pulled with all of her might. His cry of pain gave her the strength to push away from him, and she flew into Patrick’s waiting arms. Holding her close for all of a second, he kissed her hair before pushing her behind him.

  “You will never touch her again!”

  Slamming all of his fists into Walter’s middle, Patrick brought her assailant to the ground, but even as Walter was incapacitated, Patrick kept hitting him until Abigail recovered enough of her strength to try to pry him away.

  “I’m here, Patrick!” she screamed. “I’m alright now.”

  Patrick kept hitting him until the door pushed open again. Mistress Serena stepped into view with bouncers at her back and a look of fury on her face.

  “How many times do I have to tell you boys…?”

  Under the woman’s stare, Abigail felt as if she was nearly safe, but Serena’s stare was poised on Patrick. Folding him into her arms, Abigail thought fast and spoke quicker.

  “He was only here to help me.”

  Serena turned her glare back to Walter as he struggled to his feet. Wanting nothing more than to tear his heart from his throat, Serena literally beat her to the punch as she slapped his face and sent him spinning back to the ground. As soon as he was out cold, Serena signaled for her boys.

  “And this time he doesn’t get back in,” she said. “I don’t care how much green he flashes.”

  Abigail started to relax at the sight and the sound of her tormenter being dragged away, but a moan from Patrick turned her entire attention back to his eyes.

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  He nodded as he touched her face.

  “I am now.”

  Patrick started to kiss her when Serena let out a furious groan.

  “Look at my room,” she started. “I never should have brought you back either. Fucking Mariah…”

  Abigail was about to apologize when Patrick hoisted her into his arms, and Abigail could not resist the lure of his shoulder.

  “You just be glad that I got to her in time,” Patrick said. “Because if it had gone down the other way…”

  Abigail shuddered to think, and she relaxed into him as he held her tighter.

  “Patrick…”

  He lifted her face to his and smiled into her eyes.

  “What do you need, Abigail?”

  She needed to rest. Preferably in his arms. She started to ask his forgiveness for sins that were not hers when Walter’s attack caught up with her, and she fainted into his chest.

  Chapter 9

  Abigail’s eyes blinked around the feel of a cool cloth running up and down her face. Struggling to focus, she slowly realized that she was back in Patrick’s bed. The blankets were tucked against her chin, and when she was able to see clearly, Patrick was there, wiping the sweat from her brow. As her eyes widened, she took note of his bruises, and she shot up, her only thought to cradle him close.

  “Oh my God!” she cried out. “I’m so sorry. Patrick---”

  “It’s nothing,” he assured her. “Nothing I can’t handle. But…”

  Taking her battered face in his hands, Patrick brought his lips close to hers. She was ready for his kiss, longed to feel his mouth on hers, but he stopped short, and his sigh hit her eyes.

  “But if that prick putting his hands on you… that’s too much.”

  Abigail looked into his eyes. She barely believed that she was back, but when she touched his face, she smiled and started to kiss him. Their lips nearly met when she pulled back as a million questions fired in her brain.

  “Why… how did you find me?” she asked.

  Patrick stroked her face with a sigh.

  “I thought you’d go back,” he confessed. “I didn’t want you to, but I didn’t think that you’d have anywhere else to go.”

  The truth of that was beyond shameful, and Patrick had called it. She started to pull away from him, but Patrick was not letting her go. As she looked into his eyes, she could not detect a trace of judgment. If anything there was only relief that he had her back in his arms, in his bed.

  “Why?” she finally choked out.

  “Why not?” Patrick asked as he rested his head to her brow. Patrick’s eyes remained fixed on hers, not blinking. Try as she might, Abigail had never been able to forget the force of his gaze as it penetrated her stare, and she wanted that to be enough. He had saved her again, and she shouldn’t question any set of circumstances that returned her to his orbit.

  But how long would it last? The bottom could fall out from under her feet at any second, and she had to know where she stood.

  “Tell me,” Abigail whispere
d. “I need to know.”

  Sighing, Patrick dragged his kiss across his cheek, and her body buzzed when his lips pressed against her ear.

  “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  His words were like a balm soothing her aching heart, and as Abigail longed to believe it, to believe in him, she still hesitated to wrap her arms around his neck.

  “And when I saw you with Ross…”

  Patrick’s voice trailed off into a shadow of pain, and she danced her fingers upon his cheek and pressed him to finish his thought.

  “Oh, Abigail.”

  Folding her into his arms, Abigail rested her head to his chest and blinked back tears as he tenderly stroked her hair.

  “It’s why I had you followed,” Patrick continued. “Because if something ever happened to you…”

  Looking up as he still held her close, Abigail could see a faraway look swirl into his steel blue eyes, and she knew that he was thinking about someone else.

  “I… I think that I remind you of someone,” she dared.

  “Abigail---”

  “Just tell me. Please.”

  Patrick’s body grew tense, but he took a deep breath and spoke in soft, sharp tones.

  “The long and short? I’ve fallen in love in the back rooms before.”

  Taking his hand, Abigail just knew that this night was not the first time that he had been in competition with Walter Ross.

  “Did he hurt her, too?”

  His glare seemed to tell the tale, and she was on the verge of understanding his every move. She pictured his lost lover not making it out alive and Mistress Serena having to cover it up in service of her dark reputation. Of course he would fear for her, but then he placed his hand on her shoulder and spoke swiftly.

  “He did,” Patrick said. “And she liked it more than she liked me.”

  She was stunned by what he said. How could anyone prefer Walter Ross’ brutal brand of pain to his sweet touch? But this was what Walter was alluding to when he accused Patrick of being unable to handle the scene. When he called her lover soft.

  “So she picked him,” Patrick said. “And last I heard she was in a place so deep that there was no way out.”

  Abigail shuddered at the thought that had he not intervened, it could have so easily been her. Dragged from the backroom to some private dungeon until she was sold into the worst kind of servitude. And she understood the mixture of jealousy and horror that made him follow her while she was with him and into tonight.

  “But then how could you ever let me go?” she asked.

  His hold grew tighter, and she trembled in his embrace, her body only calming when he spoke through the kisses that he ran across her face.

  “I don’t even know,” Patrick admitted. “All that matters is that I got you back.”

  Pulling the blankets away, he laid her out carefully and sighed when he had her naked under his eyes, Abigail was determined to not let him down. Maybe she had gone back to the club, but it was before she had the chance to see him clearly. And even a few minutes with Walter Ross was enough to assure her that she would never throw Patrick over for something else. Because there was no one else that she wanted.

  “Do I have you back?” he asked in a determined tone.

  She managed to nod, and he brought his kiss to her quivering ankles. As his mouth ensnared her limbs, his lips intensified over her flesh, and she started to touch his back as his breath wafted towards her cunt. He kissed her there, and Abigail moaned as his tongue darted in and out of her wet walls. Despite the need and the truth that he had voiced, Patrick was still in command as he teased her to the point of her desire dripping down his throat, but every time she was about to shower him with her lust, Patrick settled for the soft flesh of her thighs. Caressing his neck, longing for him to do more, Abigail wanted a way to make him believe that this was for real and never ending. As she turned her head to the side, Abigail saw the whip that he had yet to crack against her flesh, and she wanted to know the sensation burning against her back.

  She wanted his mark, his brand on her flesh.

  “You do,” Abigail said.

  Struggling up, she fought against her quaking cunt and kissed him hard. Patrick melted into her mouth, and when she felt the chance to escape the embrace that she wanted most, Abigail scrambled away from him.

  “Wait! What are you---?”

  Clutching the handle, Abigail cracked the whip awkwardly and flinched at the sound. Pushing towards the edge of the bed, Patrick’s confused eyes morphed into doubt, but when his stare lingered on her bare breasts and moved towards her waiting cunt, he lifted his eyebrows and gave her a tentative smirk.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Patrick said.

  “But don’t you want to teach me, Mr. Dorson?”

  His mouth said no, but his eyes told her that he wanted the chance to bring her to new heights and give her no chance of leaving.

  “Abigail…”

  Standing to face her, his fingers ran down her arm and mingled with the handle. Abigail swayed forward and pressed the whip deeper into his palm. Her soul brimmed with need as she helped him lift the whip so that the leather grazed against her legs.

  “Show me what you can do to me,” Abigail whispered.

  Patrick took the whip and seemed more than tempted. Stretching to the tips of her toes, she let him turn her back to the bed.

  “Are you sure?” he asked. “Because after what happened tonight---”

  She silenced him with another kiss and batted her lashes.

  “I’m sure of you, Mr. Dorson.”

  He sat her down on the bed and fell to his knees. Kissing her thighs, she stroked his neck and whispered her desire and consent. As he lifted his head, he seemed on the verge of giving into her demand, but as he scanned her face and touched the spaces that Walter Ross had bruised, he started to shake his head.

  “Not tonight,” he said. “It’s too soon.”

  “No it’s not,” she protested. “I want you to suffer for you---”

  “That’s not what this---”

  “So that I can show you that I’ll stay. No matter what.”

  Patrick relinquished some of his hold, and Abigail settled back against the sheets and waited. She saw him swallow hard and lift the whip. She could neatly feel the lash on her skin, but then he fell to the bed and gripped her shoulders.

  “Then turn over,” he purred.

  Obeying his orders, Abigail buried her face into the pillow and listened as he circled the bed, snapping the whip every few seconds. Each crack brought a swell to her pussy, and as much as she wanted to make this work for him, for both of them, if he didn’t strike her soon, now, she felt as if she would burst into his arms and send him flying into the wall with the force of her eager mouth. But she struggled to maintain her poise, grinding her nails into the bed sheets. Abigail didn’t think that she hold out for another minute and---

  “Oh!”

  He finally landed the first blow.

  It was nothing and everything that she had expected. Her body burned, but the quivers creeping across her flesh made her forget the pain. Licking her lips, she started to ask for more when he answered her unspoken cry with another sharp hit. Abigail cringed for a spilt second, but then she smiled as her body absorbed the lash, and as she started to moan for more Patrick literally beat her to the punch and snapped the whip to her back in a series of careful strikes. He did not give her the chance to ask for a pause, and Abigail wouldn’t have even if she had the chance. The lash of the whip was making her weak, but her heart was intensifying. This was the best way, the only way to have him, and when she finally found her voice, Abigail begged to know, to feel more, and he flipped her to her back. She shuddered for all of a second, but then she saw his flashing eyes, the steaming whip in his hands, and Abigail lowered her lashes and murmured for more.

  “Then spread your legs.”

  The invitation nearly scared her off, but now that she knew his skill wit
h the leather, Abigail could not resist the chance that he would singe her pussy with something that might rival his cock.

  “I’m not sure if you can take this,” he said as he brought the whip behind his head. But when he was on the verge of dropping it, she cried out.

  “No, Patrick!”

  He hesitated but before he could lose the whip and leave her in total despair, she stretched up to finish her thought.

  “Give me all of you,” she begged. “And I promise that I won’t run---”

  Patrick cracked the whip into her cunt. She fought against the pain as he slammed the leather into her again, but he always drew back before her pussy burst. Still the swelling grew with each strike, and he stopped hitting and pushed the leather inside her, Abigail imagined his cock and clenched her muscles around the whip. It hurt, but she reveled in the pain as her juices coated the lash. As her body writhed forward to meet his eyes, she saw his stare expanding with hope, and Abigail finally flung her arms around his neck, and she moaned into his shoulder.

  “I like it,” she whispered. “I swear I do.”

  He tore the whip away and pushed his cock to her body. Her slick, wet walls took him in like the edge of the whip, and she expected him to thrust and shred her.

  But Patrick lingered inside her, taunting her flesh as he pushed her back to the pillows, his hands playing around her face.

  “I believe you, Abigail.”

  He kissed her slowly, and Abigail didn’t know which touch she wanted more, his mouth or his cock. He didn’t thrust, and she started to push against him. But he stopped her with a new kiss, and she slipped to his side and touched his broad chest.

  “I missed you,” Patrick whispered.

  “I missed you more.”

  Abigail’s entire body was on fire as he held her close. At the start of this day, she never could have dreamed that she would make her way back to him, but now that she had him so close, she was never going to turn her head again. He could whip her body raw. Patrick would always hold her afterwards, and it was enough.