At His Mercy

by Shelly Bell

  He brought their linked hands up to his nose and inhaled her pussy’s scent from their fingers. Her eyes popped wide, and a blush stained her cheeks as she realized what he was doing.

  At the front of the platform that overlooked the Upper Falls, he slipped his arm around her waist and tugged her to his side. “What do you think?”

  Fifty feet high and two hundred feet across, the waterfall roared as fifty thousand gallons of water fell per second. The sun’s rays bounced off the water, making it look as if the falls were sparkling with hundreds of diamonds. Two squirrels scurried up the nearby tree, and birds swooped in the air, searching for their breakfast. An owl hooted and the trees swayed in the wind.

  Being here, with Isabella, was his idea of heaven.

  She sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “Amazing. It’s so big.”

  “Size impresses you?” He nodded once. “Good to know.”

  Laughing, she elbowed him in his side. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  He loved hearing her laugh. Cupping her cheek, he turned her to face him. “I’m glad you’re here with me.” At the sparkle in her eyes, he claimed her lips, stealing her surprised gasp.

  She tensed for a moment before sinking into him and ceding control. He angled her head and deepened the kiss, the taste of mocha and his Angel exploding on his tongue.

  A gust of wind swirled around them, lightly spraying them with water from the falls. She shivered and moved closer. Wrapping his arms around her, he lifted his lips and just held her, their bodies connected in a way that told everyone around them that they were lovers. His gaze connected with a guy who was holding hands with a toddler, a girl with red curly hair and freckles across the bridge of her nose. Tristan’s heart squeezed.

  If Isabella had a daughter, was that what she would look like?

  The man smiled at him. “Would you like me to take your picture?” he asked, gesturing to Tristan and Isabella.

  Isabella tilted up her chin. The indecision that warred in Isabella eyes matched his own internal struggle. Fuck yeah, he wanted a photo of him with his girl. But a picture was worth a thousand words, and if anyone ever saw it, they’d instantly recognize the illicit nature of their relationship.

  He shook his head. “Nah, we’re good. But thanks for the offer.”

  Reality shattered the moment, bringing along with it the reminder that the memories they made together could never be recorded or preserved.

  When Isabella came to her senses and dropped him for someone who she could bring home for Christmas dinner, she’d leave him with nothing but the memories of her in his mind.

  They didn’t discuss it. But it hung over them as they left the overlook and ate lunch at a restaurant, her nibbling on a cheeseburger and him drinking a locally brewed beer. They talked about current events and their favorite movies, but stayed far away from anything to do with their relationship.

  That would come later. It was an inevitable and necessary conversation to have before they returned to Edison. But for the next couple of hours, he wanted to maintain the illusion that they had nothing to hide.

  After returning to their car, he drove them to the far side of the state park, where a much less traveled trail would take them to an unmarked path. He hadn’t been there in years, but his memories were as vibrant as if it were yesterday. He nabbed his bag from the trunk and took her hand again. “Come on. You okay hiking a couple of miles?”

  “As long as you’re with me.” She blushed as they ducked under the trees to start on the path. Brown leaves crunched underneath their feet. “I don’t have the best sense of direction. When I was ten, I went on a nature walk with Dreama and we had to call the park ranger to come get us when we couldn’t find our way back in the dark.”

  Because they weren’t on an official trail, the path was much narrower, and their bodies brushed against each other with each step. “You must have been scared.”

  She pushed a branch out of her face. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But Dreama has a way of making everything fun. Instead of freaking out, she kept me occupied by telling stories and cracking jokes. When the ranger did show about a half hour later, I didn’t even want to leave.”

  He was glad that she had her cousin. If he ever got the chance, he’d thank Dreama. She not only saved his Angel’s life, but she had brought her to Ryder’s. If not for Dreama, he would never have met Isabella. He owed her, and someday, he hoped to repay that favor. “Have you told her that I’m your professor?”

  She looked down at her feet and nibbled on her lip. “I was going to. But I got her voice mail and then the thing with Tony happened, and somehow, I just never got around to it.”

  Hmm. Interesting. He’d gotten the impression she shared everything with Dreama. “Are you worried she’d tell you to stay away from me?”

  She stumbled over a rock, but immediately righted herself. “No. She’s not like that.” She paused. “I guess…I wanted to keep it to myself.”

  Or was it because he hadn’t given her permission to tell her cousin about him?

  From the moment he dominated her at Ryder’s house, Isabella started seeing him as her Dom. It didn’t always happen that way, but Isabella was new to the scene. Impressionable. She probably didn’t even realize it. But subconsciously, she’d keep everything about him a secret until he gave her permission. For now, it was better that they keep their connection under wraps.

  For the next twenty minutes, they hiked through the forest and, just as he’d expected, there was no sign of anyone else.

  At the sound of a branch snapping off to their right, they stopped. There, only ten feet away, was a deer, its frightened black eyes fixed on them. The magnificent animal stood still, taking stock of them, deciding if they were predators. Its nostrils flared and the deer, having made its decision, galloped away. Only then did he notice the three fawns doing their best to keep up with their mama.

  This wasn’t his first sighting of deer in these woods, but when he witnessed the wonder on Isabella’s face, it definitely became the most special. Her smile lit up the forest.

  He probably shouldn’t mention the black bears that lived around there.

  A few minutes later, the path widened into a small clearing shaped like a circle, with a massive oak tree in the center. It wasn’t much, but to Tristan, it was like coming home. How many hours had he spent sitting with his back up against the tree just thinking? Or reading a book that inspired him to become a better man? He’d napped underneath the branches, and once or twice, had masturbated against that tree.

  His groin tightened at the vision before him.

  Like a forest nymph, Isabella glided around the wide circumference of the tree trunk, her fingers caressing the bark and her long hair blowing behind her. “How did you find this spot?”

  “I’d like to say it was divine intervention or because I’d sought solace in nature,” he said, joining her at the tree, “but truth be told, I came with a girl and needed a place to smoke a bowl and have sex where we wouldn’t get caught.”

  Her jaw dropped as she leaned against the tree. “It’s hard for me to picture you doing drugs.”

  She couldn’t picture it? Marijuana was nothing compared to the hallucinogens, cocaine, and speed he’d done. His days and nights had merged into one continuous blur during that time.

  “Why is that?” he asked.

  “Drugs tend to make people lose control.”

  He smiled at her astuteness. “I agree. But I wasn’t born a Dominant. In fact…,” he said, pausing for effect. “I subbed for a woman before I realized I preferred to be on the other side of a whip.”

  She put her hand on her hip. “You? A sub?”

  “It was after my mother died during my freshman year at Edison. You were right when you said that drugs make people lose control, but they weren’t the problem. They were a symptom.” He was walking on a tightrope. While it was necessary to divulge bits of his past, she didn’t need to know abou
t all the mistakes he’d made. Besides, today was about her. “And through BDSM and submission, I found discipline. Patience. Control. But it wasn’t until I started dominating that I found peace.”

  Isabella grew pensive. “Will I find it?”

  “Yes,” he promised. “Some people can submit in the bedroom and that’s enough for them.” He pulled her against him and gripped her shoulders. “But I don’t think you’re one of them. I think you’ll only find peace when you submit in all aspects of your life.”

  He’d never had a twenty-four seven Dom/sub relationship before. Never wanted one. Never even considered it. But Isabella needed that from him, and for the first time in his life, he was willing. That kind of relationship would require much more effort and energy on both their parts.

  Confusion swirled in her green eyes, and her nose scrunched. “I don’t understand. All aspects? Like having someone tell me what to eat and what to wear?”

  Hell no. He didn’t want a sub who couldn’t make a single decision.

  He traced his fingers over the frown lines on her forehead. “Some people find success in having a Dom who provides structure and guidance. Almost like a life coach. Together, we can create a schedule and expectations for you to follow. From the moment you woke in the morning until the minute your head hit the pillow at night, everything you did would be under my direction.”

  The frown lines jumped to the sides of her mouth. “And you think I need that?”

  He caressed her cheek with his fingertips. “I do.”

  “Yes.” She covered his hand with her own. “If it helps me live without the constant fear that Tony’s going to kill me, I’m game.”

  “As I told you in the car, strength comes from here,” he said, touching her forehead. “And here.” He placed his hand over her heart. “But it also comes from knowing you can take care of yourself, and that’s what I’m going to teach you right now…self-defense.”

  Her eyes popped wide. “I don’t—”

  “There will be times when you’re alone.” He hated the thought. Wished this wasn’t necessary. But she couldn’t remain helpless. Hopefully, with a little self-defense, she’d grow confident in her ability to escape if Tony ever did come for her. “I wish I could be with you, protecting you, all the time, but it’s just not possible. Having the knowledge to protect yourself is essential.”

  She nodded once. “What do I need to know?”

  He took a step back to give them both some room. “First things first, if you can run away, do it. Even if they have a weapon, most of the time, they won’t use it for anything more than intimidation.”

  “Unless…,” she said meekly.

  “Noise is your friend,” he said quickly, moving on. “Yelling ‘fire’ will draw more attention than screaming ‘help.’ That’s because people worry more about their own safety than the safety of others.”

  “Well, that’s depressing.”

  He continued. “Don’t move any closer to your attacker than necessary.”

  For the next hour, he taught her some basic defensive moves that she would hopefully never have to use.

  It couldn’t have been more than sixty degrees, but sweat rolled down both their faces as they role-played various situations. She began hesitant and fearful, doubtful of her ability to ward off an attacker of Tristan’s size. But over time, her movements became surer, more confident. She growled each time he bested her, but it pushed her to work harder.

  “Remember, always aim for the part of the body where you can do the most damage,” he reminded her. “Eyes, nose, ears, neck, groin, knee, and legs. Let’s see what you’ve learned so far. Pretend you’re walking to class.” Rather than telling her what moves to use, he wanted to see if she could figure it out on her own. He wasn’t stupid enough to think a single lesson in self-defense was adequate, but it was a damned good start.

  She wiped her brow and got into character, walking away from the tree toward the path. Staying aware of her surroundings, she kept her head up and her ears open. He didn’t give her time to react, running toward her and knocking her to the ground. They hadn’t practiced this scenario yet, but with everything he’d taught her so far, she should have enough moves to at least buy her time for help to arrive.

  He wrapped his hands around her windpipe as if he was going to strangle her. She didn’t show a moment of weakness. She hooked a hand around his wrist, and her other hand came to his opposite elbow while her leg trapped his foot. In two seconds, her head lifted and she’d rolled him over onto his back. Then the heel of her hand met his nose.

  “I did it!” she shouted, pure joy evident in her eyes.

  He was so proud of her, but even better, she was proud of herself. He grinned and reached up to skim his thumb over the apple of her cheek. “Yeah, baby. You did good.” His cock swelled, the weight of her on top of him and the adrenaline rushing through him a heady aphrodisiac. “Now for your next lesson.”

  Unaware that this past hour had been the easy part of the day, she looked down at him eagerly.

  She wasn’t the only eager one.

  His inner sadist couldn’t wait another minute. “Get naked, Angel.” He lowered his tone to let her know he meant business. “I want you to take off all your clothes.”

  Eighteen

  Naked?

  If it weren’t for that wicked sparkle in Tristan’s eyes and that deliciously decadent voice that he used, Isabella would have thought he was kidding.

  The Dom was back and ready for her submission.

  Her heart fluttered and her clit twinged. The arousal at the idea of getting naked in public took her by surprise. Did it make her an exhibitionist if no one but Tristan would see her?

  A different thought occurred to her. “Here? What if someone catches us?”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched. “Trust me.”

  “I do trust you,” she snapped. Getting off him, she rolled her eyes, not caring that he’d probably punish her for it. She stood up and dusted the dirt off her backside, although why she bothered she wasn’t sure, since she was about to be naked.

  Although his expression was teasing, his tone was anything but. He didn’t like her hesitation. She’d noticed whenever she did, that same muscle twitched. It was kind of funny. One day, she’d have to rile him up to see how far she could push him before his jaw went into spasms.

  How many times had he repeated for her to trust him in the last twenty-four hours? Too many to count, that was for sure. Had she done one thing to make him think she didn’t?

  When she’d gotten in the car with him that morning, not knowing where they were going, she’d trusted him.

  When he’d taught her self-defense, she’d trusted him.

  When he’d told her she needed to submit from morning until night in order to find peace, she’d trusted him.

  Was it so wrong to ask him a question now and then?

  Apparently, in Tristan’s opinion, it was.

  Total submission would take some time to adjust to, but the idea of Tristan having a part in every minute of her day excited her in a way that shocked even her. Her first inclination had been to refuse. She was an adult and on her own for the first time. She didn’t need a keeper. But it all came back to trust. If Tristan believed she needed full-time submission, then she’d give it a shot. Her body certainly didn’t mind. On the contrary, at the thought of it, her pulse kicked up a notch and her pussy swelled. Or maybe it was because she was about to undress in the middle of a state park where anyone could stumble upon them.

  Holding his gaze, she slowly drew her shirt up her abdomen. His pupils expanded, eating up the blue irises of his eyes. He gulped, his Adam’s apple working hard to swallow. He might be in control, but he wasn’t unaffected.

  She ripped off her shirt and shook her head, fanning out her hair as the shirt fluttered to the ground. The autumn air whirled around her torso like a lover’s touch, soft and caressing. There was something sensual in the act of undressing for Tristan as he watche
d. Power surged through her.

  He stood only feet away, his body rigid, stretched tight like a rubber band about to snap. His hands were clenched, making the veins of his biceps bulge, and his nostrils flared, causing his lips to curl into something resembling a snarl. If the deer saw Tristan now, there’d be no mistaking him for anything but a dangerous predator.

  “Angel,” he growled, warning her.

  After removing her shoes and socks, her fingers went to work on the zipper of her pants, down, down, down, as slow as molasses. Tristan’s eyes tracked every millimeter of its descent, his arousal almost tangible. He might punish her for her tease, but no matter what he admitted, he loved it.

  She hooked her thumbs around the waistband and, with a shimmy of her hips, bent forward, giving Tristan a clear view of her cleavage as she tugged her pants down her thighs. Now clad only in her sheer bra and panties, she straightened her spine and threw back her shoulders, exulting in her feminine power.

  Her hard nipples poked through the fabric of her bra. Her breasts felt heavy and swollen. Sensitive. Reaching behind her, she unclasped her bra and allowed the lace to slide down her torso.

  A quiet moan passed her lips at the blatant heat banked in Tristan’s eyes. Hunger. Possession. Desire. It was all there for her to see.

  Her clit sizzled. Her hair stroked the tops of her breasts and the wind tickled her nipples. Starting at her belly button, she skimmed her fingertips up the length of her abdomen, that simple touch lighting a fire along its path. Goose bumps popped up on her skin. As if offering her breasts to her lover, she cupped them in her hands, shivering at the sensation of her cool skin on her warm, sensitive flesh.

  Tristan growled, the noise emanating from deep in his chest. Like a lion about to pounce, he stalked toward her, his gaze on her tightly pebbled nipples. “Cold?”