Hero to Obey: Twenty-two Naughty Military Romance Stories

by Selena Kitt

  She had been afraid it might look ridiculous in his hand, but it didn't. With the way he was looking at her pussy, the pretty bright red heart now seemed intimidating. "I'd hoped you might use that on my butt, Sir." Someplace where there was plenty of padding.

  "I'm sure you did."

  He stood over her and trailed the crop down her chest, then over her belly before dipping between her legs.

  Ella tried to keep still and failed. Even though she'd just orgasmed, nerve endings reignited. She'd never been with a man who understood her or her body this well.

  He tapped her breasts, her nipples, her legs, her pussy, the plug, causing it to move within her.

  "Oh…"

  Then he smacked the inside of her thigh hard, but it didn't burn, it was a dull, achy, fabulous thud.

  He caught her again, on the other thigh.

  Before she was ready, he brought it down on her already-throbbing clit.

  She screamed, arched. "More."

  "That's a perfect response."

  The hurt had been exquisite, maybe because her pussy was already sensitive from their play and her orgasm.

  He moved onto her breasts, cropping them, hitting her nipples, making her tremble with the need to come again. Pierce rained kisses of torment down her belly, then again on her pussy, not just her clit, but all of the exposed, sensitive flesh.

  "What do you want?"

  "My clit," she said, pleading.

  "More than one?" He tapped her lightly.

  "Sir!" Maddening. Frustrating. She looked up at him, but he wasn't watching her face, he was focused on her pussy.

  Just when she was afraid he wouldn't give it to her, he parted her labia.

  Part of her thought she should feel fear or apprehension. But desire crowded out everything else.

  He smacked her repeatedly. It burned. It stung. And she desperately needed to come.

  "Pierce. Sir. Sir, sir, sir."

  "Your pussy is bright red, swollen."

  "I know."

  He placed the crop on her belly then crouched to lick away the pain, soothing her, driving her mad.

  Tension coiled in her body. She needed release.

  All of a sudden, he stopped.

  "What?" She shook her head and pulled against the restraints. "Sir?"

  "I like having you this aroused. It will make it easier for you to take the cane marks that I intend to give you."

  Fear wound through the arousal, making her feel vibrantly alive.

  "Let's go upstairs."

  As he released each cuff, he took a few seconds to rub her skin to ensure her circulation was fine. There was nothing wrong with her, other than unfulfilled sexual desire.

  He offered a hand, and she accepted it.

  Even just a few minutes on the wooden surface had left her a little sore.

  He picked up the toys and the water bottles before following her up the stairs. The unnaturally high heels forced her to be careful. Between them and the plug shoved up her ass, her movements were slow, and somewhat exaggerated.

  "Where are the condoms?" he asked when they reached the bedroom.

  "I can get them." She hurried into the bathroom. Unsure how many he'd need—just one? Two?—she decided to grab the whole box.

  He was sitting on the foot of the bed, arms folded.

  After placing the box on a nightstand, she stood in front of him.

  "Strip for me," he said. "But leave the shoes on."

  "I'm thinking you might have a thing for them."

  "I definitely have a thing for them." There was no teasing in his voice.

  Ella reached behind her to unhook the shelf bra. She would have let it fall to the floor, but he reached out a hand to catch it.

  Then she unzipped the skirt. She shimmied her hips and the material fell to the carpet. Then, being bold, she hooked it with her shoe and lifted it.

  He took the skirt from her foot. "You'll be the death of me."

  Maybe they could meet in hell.

  "How does your pussy feel?"

  "You had to mention it," she replied.

  "And your ass? In fact, don't answer. Spread your legs and grab your ankles. Let me see for myself."

  The man, relentless and dominant, pushed on the base of the plug. She grunted in a very unladylike way and grasped her ankles tighter so she didn't topple over.

  "Better," he said. "You may stand."

  Even as she did, he stroked his fingers over her pussy.

  She clenched, on the edge again, so quickly.

  When she faced him, he tweaked her nipples, so, so much harder than he had earlier, and she gasped. It wasn't so much from the pain as the shockwaves of need.

  Even though she thought she'd had some BDSM experience, she'd never felt anything like this.

  Just when she was ready to plead for release, he dropped his hands. "Sir…"

  "Face down on the bed, Ella."

  He picked up one of the lengths of silk.

  "Wrists crossed above your head."

  Her heart doing a slow thud, she crawled onto the bed and into position.

  "I'm going to tie you up," he said. "And give you eight strokes with the cane."

  She buried her face in the mattress. She wanted it. It terrified her.

  Expertly, he tied the rope, ensuring it wasn't too tight and that she couldn't pull out.

  "What's your word for slow?" he asked again.

  "Yellow. And stop is my safeword."

  The mattress sank under his weight as he sat next to her.

  He ran his fingers down her spine, between her cheeks, across the backs of her knees.

  Then he bound her feet. Unable to resist, she tested his work, pulling, wriggling.

  He said nothing.

  "I didn't need to worry about your competency with the rope."

  "Ella, I know at least twenty ways to tie a knot so that you can't get away, no matter the material; silk, hemp, bamboo. In a pinch, I can use a pair of your stockings. And I'd be willing to bet I could figure out how to secure you with just your pretty bra."

  "What other mad skills do you have, Sir?"

  "Let's find out how I am with the cane."

  She expected him to begin immediately, but she should have known better. He was a master, and he wouldn't be rushed.

  He rubbed her skin vigorously, massaging her deeply, ensuring a really good blood flow, she knew.

  When the first mark came, flaying her right ass cheek, she screamed. "Fuck!"

  The pain went on and on, radiating.

  She squirmed, trying to get away, but from what, she didn't know.

  He rubbed the ache, and it began to fade.

  "Fuck," she repeated. "Damn."

  "One," he said.

  And she had seven more to go?

  He grabbed a handful of her left butt cheek and squeezed tight. Then, as soon as he let go, he seared her with another.

  Her body went rigid.

  For seconds, the pain worsened. Then it eased. The pain left behind was relentless, but damn, she liked it.

  He worked his hand beneath her pelvis and found her clit, teasing her.

  "Oh, Sir!" Between the pain of the stripes and the way she was already aroused, prickles of sensation rushed through her.

  "You'll get your orgasm," he promised. "But you're going to earn it."

  This time, he simultaneously laid the cane across both her butt cheeks.

  She yelped.

  He gave her no time to recover. Instead, he placed another just below it and a third above it.

  Desperate, aching, she ground her hips against the bedsheet.

  "Only three more."

  Could she do it? Did she want to?

  Earlier she'd bravely—maybe brazenly—told him that she'd never come close to needing a word for slow down. And she wanted to be pushed. This was testing everything she had; reserve, resolve, determination.

  He worked his hand beneath her again, and he unerringly found her clit. He teased her,
then slid two fingers inside her hot pussy.

  Moaning, she desperately tried to lift her body to give him greater access, but the bonds kept her from gaining any leverage. She was helpless to whatever he gave her.

  Pierce thrust his fingers in and out. "You are so fucking wet, Ella."

  The pain from his stripes morphed into need—raw and consuming.

  "The next will be harder to take," he warned.

  And if they left her that far out of her mind, she wanted it.

  "Cry. Moan. Scream. Curse. Whatever you need. Unless you're at yellow."

  "I might have been. Until you started fingering me."

  "Get to eight, and I will reward you," he whispered into her ear.

  She turned her head to meet his gaze, gaining strength from the depths of his glacial blue eyes. "Fuck me," she said.

  "That's your reward?" He feathered across her clit without using enough pressure to get her off.

  "Yes, Sir."

  He plowed his hand into her hair and tightened his fist, pulling her head back enough that he could kiss her, fast and hard, heating her mouth, making her taste his power. "Your responses make me happy."

  Slowly, he released his grip.

  She gasped for air. Tonight… tonight with him was everything she could have hoped for. And more. "Give them to me, Sir."

  "Nothing would make me happier."

  He rubbed her thighs.

  Ella steadied her breathing and tried to keep her muscles relaxed.

  "That's it."

  He slashed downward, caning her in the middle of her right leg. The tip seemed to bite in.

  She screamed, undone by the radiating pain.

  Pierce smoothed his palm across the mark, and the heat began to dissipate.

  He repeated the stroke, with the same kind of precision, on the other leg.

  Despite all her intentions, tears filled her eyes. She laced her fingers together, trying distract herself. "Pierce, I…"

  "Would you like to stop?"

  "No."

  She shook her head.

  His hands were on her, all over, her legs, the backs of her knees, her buttocks, her shoulders. He massaged and soothed. And all of it promised a completion that she hungrily wanted.

  "Last one."

  This time, she fucking heard the cane whistle. Simultaneously, it landed, well below her buttocks.

  With a scream, she bucked against the bondage. The motion brought her sensitized pussy against the bedding and she felt an orgasm clawing at her. "Pierce. Sir!"

  It took him less than thirty seconds to unfasten her ankles, and he spread her legs apart.

  He pulled the plug out a little and fucked her with it. It was too, too much. And at the same time, it wasn't enough.

  Pierce sank two fingers into her now-saturated pussy and simultaneously pounded both holes.

  "Orgasm anytime you're ready."

  Everything was too much. The pain, the sound of the cane, her emotional response to his brilliant dominance.

  Sobbing, she shattered completely, the climax obliterating her.

  "I've got you." He soothed her with his words, with his touch, and with a kiss on the top of her head.

  Then… It was over.

  She was somewhere else entirely.

  "Ella?"

  She blinked, but even when she opened her eyes, everything seemed silvery and shimmery. Exhausted, she yawned, then she closed her eyes, surrendering to the feeling of bliss. Every part of her throbbed.

  "How're you doing?"

  Pierce's voice seemed to come from a great distance. Even then, it sounded fierce, something she could rely on.

  He moved his knuckles across her cheekbone.

  And since that didn't fit with her perception of sleeping, she opened her eyes.

  "Welcome back."

  She was in his lap, snuggled against him, one side of her face nestled into his soft T-shirt. Without her awareness, he'd managed to untie her wrists, plump the pillows, remove his boots and sit on the bed, legs stretched out. "Uhm… what?"

  "Subspace?" He smoothed her hair.

  With a hand on his chest, she pushed away so she could look at him.

  Pierce shrugged.

  "Do you think?" She wrinkled her nose. "That's really not what I expected. I guess I thought that was something that happened while you were being flogged or beaten. Endorphins, like a runner's high."

  "The caning was fairly substantial."

  "And so was the orgasm."

  "You're welcome." He grinned, and it was so disarming that she smiled back, more satisfied than she remembered being in a long time.

  "We could do it again to test your theory," she suggested.

  "Are you brave? Or reckless?"

  "Both?" she suggested, settling back against his chest, enjoying the reassuring pounding of his heart. "That was nice."

  "Nice? I'm going to have to work on my skillset."

  She laughed. "Nice is good."

  "Good?" he said, sounding even more scandalized.

  "Fabulous, even."

  "We're getting somewhere."

  His arms were loose around her, but the bond was tight enough to keep her in place. She loved it. But she tried to separate her emotions from reality. They had one night before he left again. God knew how long it would be until she heard from him again. If she heard from him again. That thought crashed into her, making her ache.

  Determinedly, she refocused. She could worry about that tomorrow. Right now, she wanted to experience everything she could. "You promised me a reward," she reminded him.

  "I did, didn't I?"

  She crawled from his lap. "Should I undress you?"

  "Was that a hint that you would like me to hurry?"

  "Well…"

  He grinned as he climbed from the bed and stripped off his shirt in a single, upward motion.

  Holy hell. From his arms and strength, she knew he was in shape, but she'd had no idea how honed his muscles were. His abs were hard and flat. He was lean. Rugged. Capable. He had a frightening, jagged scar on his left side, below his ribs. She shook her head to clear it. Just another reminder of what he did for a living and of her earlier, internal warning to avoid getting involved with military men.

  He removed his belt, jeans, and socks and stood in front of her wearing only tight, navy-colored boxer briefs.

  She couldn't look away.

  He pulled off his underwear, and the size of his cock made her eyes widen.

  "Well, Sir."

  "Well, sub?"

  Meticulously, he picked up his clothes, placed them in the order he would re-dress.

  He donned a condom then said, "Come here."

  Long and enticingly, he kissed her. Within seconds, she was hungry for him all over again.

  She stroked his dick, and he moaned in response.

  "I've got to have you."

  Ella wanted him every bit as fiercely. "Yes."

  As she was coming to expect, with him being such a considerate lover, he made sure she was on the edge before ordering, "I want you on your knees at the edge of the bed, with your knees as far apart as possible."

  "Sir?"

  "I'll show you."

  He helped her into position, her ass lifted high, face on the mattress.

  "Is this a yoga position I've never heard of?" she asked, afraid of losing her balance, hyperaware of the plug and the fact he'd be able to penetrate her deeply.

  "Yeah. I call it the Holden Reverse Half Squat. You might want to practice it daily."

  "Is that a threat, Sir?"

  "It might be, if you don't do as you're told." Adding emphasis to his words, he smacked her right butt cheek.

  "Ouch!" She tried to move away, but he trapped her hips.

  "Behave." He adjusted her position slightly, leaving her ass and pussy even more exposed. "Cross your wrists."

  Once she had, he clamped his hands over them, pinning her in place.

  "I'm going to fuck you from behind so
I can look at my marks on you."

  His thick cockhead pressed against her entrance. "Do me." She tried to look back at him, but she couldn't see him. She was his to do with as he wished. And she shivered deliciously. "Sir."

  Chapter Four

  Pierce traced his thumbnail over the startling red cane mark on her right ass cheek. Nothing else left a stripe like that. And the sight of it on her delectable creamy flesh thrilled him.

  He admired her. He knew she wanted to please him, and that had made their scene all the more spectacular. He'd watched her every movement, calculated the mental and physical cost of each thing he did to her, wanting to give her the BDSM experience she craved.

  And in return, for the first time in memory, a woman had sneaked past his defenses.

  "Sir?"

  "Admiring my handiwork." It was the first excuse he'd been able to find.

  "I think I will get to admire it for the next few days."

  "One should hope."

  "Fuck me, Sir. Please."

  He curled his hand around his sheathed cock and teased her still-heated cunt with it. Since the plug was still in, the fit was even tighter.

  He bent his knees slightly to slide in a little deeper.

  "Yes," she whispered.

  He stroked in and out, his cock feeling fuller every second.

  This woman, accommodating and challenging, was a joy to fuck.

  Finally, primal urge driving him, he sank his dick all the way in.

  She gasped.

  "Doing okay?" Her strength surprised him. No doubt, she was the type of woman he needed to be with.

  "Fine."

  "Keep your hands in place." He released her to grasp her hips and hold her still.

  He slid in and out slowly, repeating the process dozens of times before he shortened the strokes.

  "Oh."

  He dipped a hand between her legs to bring her to a heightened arousal, wanting her to have at least one more orgasm.

  "So full," she said, voice muffled.

  So freaking tight. He wasn't sure how long he could hold off.

  Schooling himself, he shook his head and withdrew his cock.

  "Sir?"

  "I want to look at you."

  He rolled her onto her back. "Put your legs on my shoulders."

  "And this is the?"

  "Holden Salutation."

  She grinned as she put her feet on his chest. "Gonna need some help with this one," she said.

  Fun. That was something unique to her, making it unlike any other sex he'd ever had.