by Leah Braemel
His breath was hot on her neck when he leaned over to whisper, “Don’t forget, you can’t come until I give you permission, Princesa.”
Ah, fuck! Her breath came in short gasps as she tried to stop the building orgasm. “That’s it, Princesa. Fight it until I get in there too.”
Too?
Something ripped. Good! A condom, that meant she wouldn’t have to wait long. But to her surprise, a cool liquid drizzled on the small of her back. She shivered. “That’s cold.”
“It won’t be for long.”
What was his game? His intentions became obvious seconds later when his fingers trailed the liquid around her anus. One finger breached her opening. Then another. Damn, it felt too good pressing the thin membrane against the vibrations.
Her hips thrust back as far as they could against the restraints, rotating into his impalement, her pussy throbbing. “Please, Sam, let me come.”
“Not yet, baby.” After he’d let her adjust, he removed his fingers. Moments later, the head of his cock butted against her rear entrance.
“Necesito sentirte. I need to feel you inside me when I come, Sam. Please.”
She gasped, muttering both in English and Spanish as he slowly entered her, letting her adjust to each thrust. By the time he was fully seated within her, every cell in both channels pulsed in a flame of need and desire.
Groaning, he grabbed her hips in his hands and withdrew partway. “Never doubt me again, Rosie.” He surged back in, then set up a steady rhythm that had her pushing against him as much as she could, meeting him thrust for thrust.
She’d never thought being tied into place, totally captive to another’s attention could be so erotic. He leaned over her and nibbled her neck, his chest resting lightly on her back. She shivered as his breath heated her neck. He nipped and sucked lightly, using his weight to emphasize his control over her, his protection of her.
“Do you feel me, Rosie? How much I desire you? How much I need you?” He rocked his hips, burying himself to the hilt then held still. “Do you feel my cock throbbing inside you?”
“Yes.” She could feel his heart beating against her back and the synchronous beat in the bulbous head of his cock deep within.
“Do you have any idea of what you look like? How beautiful you are?”
No. But when he said it, she felt beautiful. “I’ve never given myself over to any other man like this before.”
He laid his cheek against her shoulder, his body trembling, the vibrator inside her exciting both of them. “I never want you to give yourself over to any other man except me. Ever.”
His whole body stiffened. With a roar he pulled back and plunged deep, then pulled back again and pistoned his hips in a frantic motion. His heavy testicles slapped against her clit, arousing her to a state of frenzy. The muscles in his forearms corded as he fought himself for control.
Her body trembling as she gasped for breath, she tightened her muscles around his cock, caressing him in the only way she could. He reached down with one hand and stroked her overly sensitive clit.
“Come for me, Rosie. Come with me.”
At the touch, both her ass and her pussy clutched at him, pulling him deeper than he’d yet been. With a deep, almost primal groan, Sam shuddered as together they found their release.
He briefly sagged over her, his breath harsh in her ear. “Did you learn your lesson, Princesa?”
She heard the chuckle in his admonition.
“If the lesson…was being bad…results in a great orgasm,” she panted, the aftershocks continuing to pulse both in him and in her, until she felt ready to orgasm again. “Then yeah, I guess I did.”
“Smart ass.”
To her regret, he slid from her. He pressed a kiss to each buttock as he retrieved the vibrator, leaving her totally bereft at the lack of sensation. “Pretty ass. Talented ass. I’ll be back to release you in a minute.”
It wasn’t until he zipped his fly that she realized that while she’d been completely naked, he’d never undressed. He padded away, and she heard water running in what must have been an ensuite bathroom before he returned. To her surprise instead of undoing her restraints, he first cleaned the oil from her back.
Once he was satisfied she was clean, he released her and handed her her clothes. “I’ve got to go meet Troy.” The look in his eyes was filled with both passion and concern. “Are you sure you won’t come with me?”
“No, Sam. I’ll be fine here.”
He took her hand in his as they headed for the door, but paused with his hand on the doorknob. “Are you all right? I didn’t take very long to prepare you…”
“I’m fine, Sam.” She exhaled slowly and mentally picked up the spoon to eat the plateful of crow that hovered between them. “I’m sorry for not believing you right off last night. And I’m sorry if I came off like a prude about the club. I wasn’t trying to judge you. Everything between us has moved so fast. I just got…scared. You know?”
Emotion flared in his eyes. “I’m not trying to pressure you, but I want to explore what we have together. I want more. I want…”
…you forever, she wanted him to say. The same way she wanted to say I trust you and would let you do anything you want. The way she wanted to say I’m falling in love with you.
But he didn’t say it.
And neither did she.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Without another word, Sam led her back through the halls and back to the front door. Where they’d turned right to the small waiting room before, this time he opened the door to a bright airy administrative office filled with greenery. Andy had commandeered a computer at one of the desks and was surfing the net from what she could see.
Crossing the room to a corner office overlooking the front yard, Sam rapped his knuckles on its half open door. “Thalia?”
“Samuel, come on in. And Rosie, welcome to La Porte Rouge.” Thalia closed a file and smiled.
He kissed Thalia on the cheek and murmured, “Something’s come up at the office so I can’t stay. You’ll make sure Rosie’s given access to the files, but stays in the office, right?” At Thalia’s soft assurance, Sam returned to Rosie’s side and drew the back of his fingers along her jaw. “Give me a call when you’re done—I’ll come pick you up.”
“You don’t have to. Just have Kris or someone pick us up.”
His hand dropped to his side. “I mean it, Rosie. Give me a call. I’ll pick you up. And remember, stay here with Thalia.” With a glance back at Thalia, and a nod, he closed the door behind him. She heard him talking with Andy, probably giving him strict instructions to stick to her side.
Thalia gestured toward a wing chair. “Come sit down, Rosie. Make yourself comfortable.”
“Thank you for taking the time to help me with the files. I know you’re busy.”
“It’s nothing that can’t wait.” Thalia tilted her head, intelligent grey eyes assessing her as if they could hear her thoughts. “Now I understand you wish to look at the members’ files, but is there anything you’d like to ask me first? About the club? About Sam?”
There were a million questions whizzing through her thoughts—since she liked being tied up did that make her submissive? Did being a submissive mean she’d have to be June Cleaver when she wasn’t in the office? What else should she expect Sam to do to her? To expect of her? What type of a future would they have if she didn’t want to join his club? Was this a phase that he might grow tired of? Was he still a member out of loyalty to those who had helped him all those years ago? Would Sam dump her if she wouldn’t agree to a ménage? Or would he have one anyway, just not with her?
But none managed to make it past her mouth.
After a moment’s silence, Thalia asked, “How long have you and Sam been dating, Rosie?”
“Just under a month.” Though it felt longer. Yet in that time she’d revealed things to Sam, shown him parts of herself she hadn’t even known existed. “I’ve known him for two years though.”
Thalia leaned back and laced her fingers together, steepling her index fingers. “Forgive me if I’m getting too personal, but Sam’s a dear friend of mine. I’m concerned that perhaps he hasn’t been completely honest with you about his needs. Do you understand about his lifestyle and his association with the club?”
“He’s told me about how he became a member. And I know that you were his mentor. He said that you taught him how to be a,” she swallowed, “Dominant.”
“My dear girl, Sam needed very little training from me. He is a natural Dom.” She tilted her head. “Is there anything you’d like to ask me? Woman to woman?”
“I suppose I’m not comfortable with the idea that a woman—especially in this day and age—would allow herself to be subservient to a man. I mean, I get some of it—like being bound, even spanked, that’s…” Spectacular? Mind-blowing? “…fun. But why would a woman allow someone to drag her around on a leash and find it arousing.”
And why did she sometimes get the feeling Sam was holding back? That there were more secrets than just his membership at the club. But since she didn’t know Thalia, or her relationship with Sam, she didn’t ask that.
Thalia’s fingers tapped together twice. “Good. He has introduced you to the lifestyle, at least parts of it. Tell me, were you were aroused by it? Is that what’s scaring you—finding that you want to give up control to him.”
Rosie stared at her hands and took a deep breath before meeting Thalia’s gaze. “Why do I get so turned on by being spanked? I was raised to believe that people who were into such activities were mentally ill. Does liking a little pain make me a masochist? Or Sam a sadist? Does liking being bound mean I’m submissive?” Once the questions started, it was like someone had opened up a gate at a horse race. “Last night Sam said he was a Dominant. Does that mean he’ll expect me to get on my hands and knees and crawl like a dog, or be his footstool? Because I can’t see myself doing that.”
A grimace flickered across Thalia’s face. “That’s been disproven you know—that being a follower of the BDSM lifestyle is a mental illness? Psychiatrists these days are much more open to the lifestyle than they were. And being a Dominant doesn’t mean Sam is a sadist any more than you being a submissive, if you are a submissive, means you’re a masochist.
“What you have to realize, Rosie,” Thalia continued, “is that submission to Sam doesn’t mean he wants a slave to use as furniture or a convenient cunt. To him it’s much more personal. It’s part of his nature that he needs you to rely on him in order to feel useful. He wants to protect you and provide for you. He will take as much pleasure from caring for you as he will give you.”
“But I’ve worked so hard to prove myself independent. I don’t want to be ‘taken care of’.”
Thalia waved her hand in annoyance. “Being a submissive doesn’t mean you have to quit your job and be a nineteen fifties housewife. Many of our submissives are lawyers and doctors, male and female, professional people. They’re people who are responsible for others all day long. But when they come through the doors of La Porte Rouge, they can shrug off their burdens and let someone else be in charge for a change.
“And Dominants like Sam…well, Sam’s in a category all his own. He belongs in medieval times with a great big warhorse and battle-scarred armor. He’s a warrior, Rosie. He needs to protect people. And he needs to know they’ll let him protect them.” Thalia patted the arms of her wheelchair. “Did Sam tell you how I ended up in this thing?”
“He said you were shot by a serial killer.”
Thalia grimaced and nodded. “David Vandeburger. I wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t been for Sam that night. When David came in, he didn’t say a word. He’d shot Sam before I realized he had a gun. I could have helped them, but I didn’t. I panicked and ran. I was halfway down the hall when David shot me the first time. Then, even though he was shot, and had lost so much blood already, Sam dragged himself into the hallway and killed the bastard. If he hadn’t, I would be dead too.” Thalia’s eyes were brimming when she looked away. “I was a coward, Rosie. I ran away when I might have been able to save Jill. Yet Sam saved me anyway. I’ll never be able to repay him. Never.”
Rosie leaned across the desk and laid her hand over Thalia’s, squeezing it lightly. “You weren’t a coward, Thalia. You did what you had to in order to survive. As FBI agents, Sam and Jill’d had training to deal with intense situations like that. You can’t blame yourself for being human.”
“That’s what everyone tells me. But I still feel like I failed them both.” Thalia closed her eyes, her hands absently smoothing the folds of her skirt over her knees. “Sam was devastated by Jill’s death. He quit the FBI even before they released him from the hospital. We were all worried he might try to kill himself afterwards.
“As I said, he was devastated. He and Jill had fallen in love so quickly.” Thalia took a deep breath. “They’d never dated or anything before they were teamed up for the assignment but I’d never seen a couple so perfect for each other. They’d only come in that night to tell me they were getting married on the weekend and so wouldn’t be available for a scene I’d planned with a new trainee.”
If someone had hit Rosie in the stomach with a breeze block, the air couldn’t have whooshed from her any quicker. She closed her eyes as her world whirled right along with her stomach. She’d seen the picture of him looking adoringly at Jill, but she’d never imagined he’d planned on marrying her.
Thalia took a few breaths to gather herself again. When she looked up and met Rosie’s gaze, her eyes were clear and dry. “Sam was absolutely magnificent that day, Rosie. He saved my life; he saved a dozen other members who were there that night. People that David could have killed if he hadn’t been stopped. But Sam still blames himself for Jill’s death. And he blames himself for me being in this chair—even though I was the coward.”
“You can’t blame yourself because someone else was a sociopathic killer.” And she’d have exactly the same talk with Sam. No wonder he had been so stubborn about her not taking a bullet for him.
“So you can see why it’s important to me to see Sam finally happy. I’d hate to see you hurt him because you’re too small minded to accept his sexual needs.”
“I don’t want to hurt him.” Besides, I’d be the one with the broken heart at the end, while Sam could come here to salve his wounds. I’d have to quit Hauberk and move far away. “But this club, what it involves. I’m not sure if I can accept some parts of it.”
“Sam’s been using the club as a crutch, Rosie. You’re exactly what he needs to help him move on. We’re reminders of everything he’s lost. But even without the club, he cannot deny his sexuality.” Thalia narrowed her eyes. “What you don’t realize, my dear, is that as Sam’s partner, you are the one with the control, with the power. And if you’re an alpha submissive, or even a possible switch as I suspect you are, there will be times when you can take charge and dominate him.”
Rosie shook her head with a small laugh. “I don’t think anyone could ever dominate Sam Watson. He’s a force unto himself.”
“I think you underestimate your power over him.” Thalia leaned over and patted her hand, her sadness falling off her shoulders. “Sam needs to be challenged. He needs to learn to let his shields down again, to let someone get close to him. You’re already halfway there, if not more. You’d keep him on his toes, especially if you tie him up and flog him one day—which, by the way, is something he quite enjoys even though he’ll deny it if you ask.”
“You’re kidding?” The idea of having Sam tied up on the bed, or the bench he’d just tied her to, had her cream flowing. If she’d been wearing panties, they’d be clinging to her by now.
“No, I’m quite serious. Don’t you think he gets tired of being responsible for everyone else on occasion?” Thalia sat back in her chair and waited while Rosie processed the image, tried to figure out how she could ever convince Sam to let her tie him up. “I’m hoping that in you, he’s found a life
partner. But you need to be open to learning about what Sam needs to be true to his nature. Because Sam needs someone who will not only let him take care of them but will take care of him. Heaven knows he deserves it.”
After a moment, she held up a key. “And now I’ve done my little quack therapy for today and given you something to think about, how about I show you those files?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
The day at the club had opened Rosie’s eyes to Sam’s world. It was definitely not within the realm of anything she’d experienced before.
She’d spent the first part of the morning holed up in Thalia’s office with Andy, searching through the members’ files for a possible suspect. Then Thalia had suggested she visit the security office, telling her the guards might have more up-to-date scuttlebutt on any bad feelings between members. While the retired army major in charge of the detail talked, she’d found her eyes drifting to the security cameras monitoring the public areas. One screen displayed two men pleasuring each other, and a second showed a room that looked like a doctor’s office with a man lying on an examination table. His cock stiffened as soon as the “nurse” snapped on a pair of latex gloves. A third monitor displayed a woman giving a man a blowjob while another man fucked her from behind.
It was like driving past a car accident—she didn’t want to watch, but she couldn’t stop herself.
She hadn’t noticed that the chief of security left her alone in his office. She hadn’t noticed Thalia join her. But she had noticed that she couldn’t stop watching. Eventually she realized her hand was buried between her legs, pressing against her clit, her hips arching to increase the pressure.
And then the man from behind spanked the woman’s behind, leaving a bright red handprint. Once. Twice. She didn’t need the sound to be turned up to know the woman came when he spanked her a third time. Her hands frantically clutching at the hips of the man in front of her, the woman’s whole body shuddered and jerked.