by Selena Kitt
She heard the snap of a lid opening and then Rob's fingers returned to her pussy, rubbing some kind of oil at her entrance, then parting her butt cheeks and rubbing it on her anus. She squeezed her buns together.
Rob's breath came hot on her ear. "Have you ever had anything in your ass, little girl?"
She stiffened. Okay, she was definitely way out of her depth now. Her experience had pretty much been sex, missionary style. End of story.
"N-no." Her voice wavered.
He chuckled. "Well, I like to keep a girl submissive during sex by plugging her ass. Do you think you can handle that, Dimples?"
Somehow, the name Dimples sounded like a challenge, and she'd never been one to back away when someone threw down the gauntlet.
"I can handle it." She might have sounded a tad defensive.
Rob chuckled again. "Do you remember how to stop things?"
She wasn't going to frickin' safe word. Nope. She could do this, even if the erratic beat of her heart said her body believed differently.
* * *
He hadn't expected this. Not any of it. He never thought he'd be playing with his sweet, girl-next-door neighbor like this, nor had he expected his reaction to it—both physical and… otherwise.
She looked fucking gorgeous right now, her legs splayed open, her reddened ass lifted and presented to his hand as he massaged oil into her pretty little pucker.
He'd thought a girl like her would be scandalized by this whole scenario. Hell, he'd expected her to safeword thirty seconds into the play. This unexpected turn left him reeling.
In all his times playing Dom, he hadn't really been into the domestic discipline style of play. Well, because it wasn't really play. Or it was only half-play. Emotions got involved, and he didn't do emotions. He did simple pain-pleasure stuff. Dominance, dirty-talk and a good whipping to get her endorphins flowing.
But halfway through Kaitlyn's spanking, he'd realized she needed an emotional release after all the crap she'd been through that night. And to his surprise, he'd been willing to go there with her. He'd made the conscious decision to spank her to tears. And what do you know? He'd been more than ready to hold and comfort her through them afterward. In fact, he'd enjoyed it. It made him feel… strong. Capable. Whole again.
His scars always faded when he took on the Dom role. No, faded wasn't the right word. They blended in. That wasn't it, either. When he was in Dom mode, his scars were just a part of him—a part that fit his role. They weren't a source of agony or pain. They didn't make him different or mark him for the ruined soldier he'd become. They just were… a part of him. With Kaitlyn, it went beyond even that. For the first time since the explosion, he knew his own power. He enjoyed dominating her, loved comforting her, wiping her tears—even though he was the one who'd made her cry. There was a high that came with domination—a euphoria from the exchange of power. Was it something about Kaitlyn's sweetness that made it so much stronger?
He'd expected a fight over the butt plug, even though he hoped he'd be able to convince her to comply. As it turned out, she arched her little ass right into his hand—alternately squeezing and releasing it as she got used to his touch.
He rubbed more oil on the tip of the plug and pressed it against her rosette.
She whimpered.
"Yield to me."
The muscles along her spine corded up and she balled the bedcovers up in her little fists. The tight ring of muscle relaxed, as it naturally should with light, steady pressure, and he eased the plug in.
She gasped, the backs of her thighs going rigid. He rubbed her clit with his other hand and her pelvic floor relaxed. The plug stretched her over the widest portion.
"Ooh—oh," she protested.
The plug seated fully.
"There. You are plugged. Do you know who you belong to?" He didn't know where that came from. He didn't "own" slaves. He didn't take long-term responsibility for anyone. Except his brothers in the Marine Corp. Many of whom he had not been able to save.
"You?" She almost whispered it. Her voice sounded husky, undeniably sexy.
"That's right. You belong to me. I can do whatever I want with you, can't I?" He wrapped a fist in her thick red hair, but didn't pull. It was just the threat of a hair pull. He rubbed his middle finger over her glossy slit, parting her, spreading her natural lubrication up to her swollen clit.
She bucked, arching and pushing into his hand.
"Do you want my cock?"
"Yes, please."
So. Fucking. Sweet. She said please. He could really grow fond of this girl. Hell, he already had. In fact, it went way beyond fond. He wanted to tie her to his bedpost and tell her she could never leave.
"Say it again."
She lifted her head. "Wh-what?"
"Say yes please. I like it when you ask so nicely."
"Yes, please. May I please have your…"
He chuckled. He would have been shocked if she'd dirty-talked. No, she was still the good little girl he thought she was. She just was a good little girl who liked to be dominated by a bad boy Marine sergeant.
He shucked his clothes in record time. With a condom sheathing his aching cock, he positioned the head at her soaked entrance. He teased her with it, pushing just the tip in and out, rubbing it along her slit.
She moaned.
"Come up onto your knees." His voice sounded thick.
She climbed to her hands and knees, but he pushed her upper body back down. "Just your knees, not your hands."
She dropped her chest back to the bed, presenting her ass to him.
"Good girl." Amazing, hot, naked, obedient girl.
He gripped her hips and plunged deep into her channel without warning. His eyes rolled back in his head with the delicious pleasure of it. "Kaitlyn…"
"Yes," she moaned. "Oh yes, please."
There was that please again. He could definitely get used to her begging.
He shoved in and out, bumping her ass with his pelvis. "Good girl," he repeated. Very good girl.
She deserved a reward for this.
"How hard do you want it, little girl?"
"Harder," she gasped.
He drove in deeper, harder.
"Uhg… uhg… yeah…" Her sounds drove him wild.
He had the vague thought to slow down, to savor her, but sensation overrode thought. He wanted to take everything she'd offered him. He wanted to devour her with each instroke, to claim her, to teach her who she belonged to.
"You're mine," he gritted through clenched teeth, punishing her with his cock, yanking her hips back to plunge even deeper every time.
"Yes," she gasped. "Yes, please."
That was it. He couldn't hold back any more. He pounded into her, knocking her back to her belly and taking her violently, his hands wrapped around her wrists, holding her down as his cock beat her to smithereens with thrust after thrust.
"Oh, yes, pleeease," she wailed.
How could he deny her? His balls contracted.
"Come, Kaitlyn," he growled. With his cock buried deep inside her, he orgasmed, filling the condom with a seemingly unending stream of cum.
"Yes," she crooned. Her muscles squeezed his cock as she crested and toppled over the edge.
He lowered himself onto her body and wrapped her up in his arms, rolling them both to the side so he wouldn't crush her. His cock still filled her pulsing channel. Her body nestled against his as if it were made to fit there. She was the perfect size, softness and scent. He buried his face in her glorious mane of hair and breathed her in.
Sweet, sweet girl.
His.
* * *
She'd gone boneless, utterly done in from her climax. Rob's strong arms held her close, his chest against her back, his cock still pulsing inside her. It might sound crazy, but if getting assaulted by Alexander—which wasn't his real name, she'd found out—meant she'd end the evening this way, she'd choose it again.
Rob had stunned her with the whole spanking and comforting,
the holding her down and plugging her butt during sex. It added an entire new layer of thrill to a guy who was already her dream man.
But was this a one-time thing for him? Would he see her again?
His cock slid out and she sighed at the loss. He removed the condom and climbed out of bed to dispose of it.
"If you had really been a naughty girl, I'd make you wear that plug all night," he rumbled when he returned, his knee depressing the mattress as he climbed up behind her. He rolled her to her belly and tugged on the plug. At first her body didn't want to give it up—she'd tightened around it.
"Exhale, baby," he murmured.
She drew in a breath and released it.
Rob eased out the butt plug.
She was equal parts relieved and disappointed to have it gone. Her bottom still hurt from the spanking, but she'd liked the sensation of being owned by Rob. That's what he'd said—that it showed she belonged to him. The thought turned her all gooey and warm inside.
She rolled over to watch as he took the plug into the bathroom to wash it off. He was unabashedly naked and—glory glory hallelujah—his body was incredible. Yes, his left side was mottled with more burn marks—she imagined that was what caused his limp—but it didn't detract from his Greek statue physique. Muscles bulged in all the perfect places, from his broad shoulders and muscled arms to his tapered waist and tight ass. Yum.
The front view, when he returned, was even better. His cock still looked semi-hard, or maybe he was just that big. She licked her lips.
He smirked.
It was nice to see something besides the usual scowl on his face. He'd relaxed and his gaze was warm and soft as he climbed back onto the bed. "I can still go sleep on the couch, if you want."
She giggled. She almost said, I thought I belonged to you but she chickened out. She didn't want to drive the guy away by acting like a crazy, clingy single girl right now. Instead, she settled for saying, "I don't think that will be necessary, Marine." She reached for his chest and ran her fingernails through the curly hair there as he settled beside her.
He flinched, but didn't move away or stop her.
"Is it hard to be touched?" She kept her voice soft and undemanding. She wanted to crack through his angry shell to get through to the wound that must go far deeper than the scars on his body.
He wrapped his larger hand around hers, but held it in place against his chest. "Yeah. But I've always preferred to be the one in charge." He made it sound light, but she saw pain in his eyes.
"I didn't know I preferred not to be in charge. In fact, I think my friends would tell you I'm pretty darn stubborn, but…" She licked her lips again, her mouth gone dry with his proximity. "I definitely liked you giving orders."
A glimmer of a smile lifted the corners of his lips. He grasped her wrists and pushed her onto her back, rolling on top of her. "I've seen the stubborn in you. It's a good thing you take orders well, or we'd have a definite problem."
Her tummy fluttered with excitement at the implied threat. She couldn't think of anything to say, her mind had stuttered to a halt at the thought of more punishment—maybe even real punishment at the hand of her big Marine. Yeah, he wasn't hers, but she sure wanted him to be.
"Are things going to be weird in the morning?" There. She'd said it. The little anxiety chattering away in the back of her head.
His blue eyes narrowed, some of the light going out of them. "I don't know. I'm kind of a bastard these days. If you were smart, you'd run for the hills."
She swallowed. If her hands were free, she'd reach up and stroke his stubbled jaw. "I'm not running," she murmured. "I'm not afraid of… you." She wanted to say your pain, but his expression was already closing and she didn't want to push it. Not tonight when things had gone to such an amazing level.
"You should be," he mumbled and released her. He settled beside her on his back, his hands interlaced behind his head. Although he was right beside her, he'd disappeared, transported a million miles away.
She rolled against him, sneaking a hand back to his chest. "Thanks," she murmured.
"For what?"
"Everything. For saving me. And making me feel good again."
He turned his head, his light blue gaze curious, as if he was wondering what it was like to feel good. He planted a kiss on her forehead. "Go to sleep."
A little lame for their first kiss, but she'd take it. Hopefully there would be more.
Yeah, she fervently prayed there would be more. Because Rob was everything she'd ever wanted in a man.
Chapter Three
He didn't sleep much. The nightmares didn't come, which was a relief, but he wasn't used to having a woman in his bed. Intoxicatingly soft, she nestled against him, inciting a variety of sleep-disruptive thoughts. He wanted to explore every inch of her lush body with his hands, with his tongue. He wanted to spread her milky thighs and lick into her until she screamed. Then fuck her again until she shattered.
But he'd already jumped too far into this thing with her. He couldn't fathom how to back out at this point.
Will things be weird tomorrow?
Hell yeah, things would be weird. Except the very fact that she'd had the courage to ask that question, to address the issue, made him want to be utterly certain things weren't weird. She didn't deserve weird. But she also didn't deserve the trainwreck that was his life right now, either. She was far too sweet, too pure for a guy like him.
He wanted to send her back to wherever she'd come from—the Midwest probably—because a girl like her hadn't been in California long enough to play the game.
Yet all night long he'd replayed the sense of power, the pleasure, the rightness of the spanking scene they'd shared. Fucking deep. Intimate. Yet so very right. It inspired all sorts of strange desires—a 1950's fantasy of a sweet little red-haired wife in an apron and ribbons in her hair waiting for him to come home from work. She would kneel at his feet and take his shoes off, rub his feet before she served him dinner. He would give her rules to follow and punish any transgressions with a bare-bottomed bedtime spanking.
Okay, yeah. That fantasy was fucked up and weird, but it played in his imagination all night long. Kaitlyn spread out on his bed with her wrists tied to the bedpost with a pair of old-fashioned pantyhose—no, they called them stockings. Kaitlyn wearing nothing but an apron, her bare ass red from the spanking he'd just given her. Kaitlyn curled up in a ball, dampening his neck with her tears as he held her and rubbed her back. That last one disturbed him. Why should he enjoy her tears? Yes, he was a Dominant, but he didn't consider himself a real sadist. He kept it consensual and pleasure-based. Yet there had been some appeal to comforting her after spanking her to tears. He was a fucked up bastard.
She stirred beside him, her glossy hair sliding over his shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open. "Mmmph." She covered her mouth with her hand and backed out of the bed, holding the covers up over her breasts.
He was torn between laughing because she looked so cute, and taking charge of the situation so she didn't feel so uncomfortable. "What do you think you're doing?"
"I have morning breath," she said, still covering her mouth even though she'd made it all the way off the bed and was standing three feet away from him.
He grasped the end of the blanket she'd pulled with her and tugged gently. "You don't get to cover up just because it's morning."
She blushed but still held the blanket with a death grip. "Do I get to brush my teeth?"
"Sure. But I don't think you brought your toothbrush over here." She had put on her pajamas and brushed her teeth in her own apartment the night before.
"Oh, okay." She scooted around the other side of the bed and picked up her clothes, which still lay on the floor where she'd tossed them the night before. She dropped the blanket and rushed to pull up her little shorts.
"Hurry, little rabbit," he teased. "The big bad wolf is going to see your boobies."
She laughed, her cheeks still blushing. "I'm shy in the morning."
He didn't like the way she said that. As if she often woke up after a "first time" with a guy feeling shy. But no, he had no right to be jealous.
Though part of him wanted to grab her and dominate her until she dropped her shyness as quickly as she'd shucked her clothes last night, it was easier to let her scamper away. He watched as she pulled her threadbare t-shirt over her perfect size-C breasts and slipped out the bedroom door.
"I'm just going to… um… run to my place and take a shower. Thanks for letting me stay here."
Thanks for letting me stay here. As if that was all it had been. Of course he knew it had been way more than that. But hell—if she was leaving that easily, he should let her go.
His cell phone rang. He sighed and climbed out of bed to pick it up.
His mom. He hated her daily calls. She worried about him and it made him feel guilty as hell for not having his life together.
"Hi, Mom."
"Hi, honey, how are you?"
"Fine." Their conversations had been stilted ever since he got back from Afghanistan. He didn't know what to say to her or how to interact anymore.
"What are your plans for the day?" she asked.
"Mm, not sure yet." He didn't feel like going into the gory details of Kaitlyn's attack and needing to change her door out.
"Well, a friend of a friend called me. They run a hot air balloon business that flies in Temecula and San Diego. They're looking for a crew guy. She said they love retired military. Any interest?"
Here she goes again, trying to fix his life for him.
"Um, nah. I don't think so. But thanks, Mom. Listen, I gotta run, okay?"
"Well, I'm going to email you the information. Just give it a read-though, okay?
"Okay."
She knew he was lying, which made the guilt tightening his chest even worse.
"I'll talk to you later," he said.
"All right. Bye, honey."
He hit end and tossed the phone on his bed. That was pretty much what his life consisted of these days. Morning calls from his mom and an endless stretch of nothing. He headed for his shower.