“We have two visiting Doms, little one. I have bestowed the honor of your correction on one of them. You will count the twenty.”
Fiona opened her mouth to scream her safe word, but her brain choked off her emotions. Andrew had pushed her hard all this time and told her often that she was an apt pupil, one of his best. He cared about her as he would a member of his family, and she found she couldn’t add another disappointment to the one earlier in the week. Her mouth snapped shut, and she set her teeth. He wouldn’t allow her to come to harm, and the experience would probably be enlightening. She would pretend it was Dave. She felt Andrew step away, the warmth of him fading. She couldn’t help a shiver.
* * * *
Dave admired the lovely little form of Andrew’s sub as she was secured onto the Cross. She reminded him of Fiona, although he’d never seen all of Fiona. He had felt her and longed to strip her down and examine her from head to toe with his tongue, but had had to be content with furtive, teenage-like gropings on the front porch or on the couch when her parents weren’t home. It should have been juvenile, even in retrospect, but it hadn’t been. It had been like starting over. Getting his head screwed on straight, healing, and sharing his life with a beautiful woman, inside and out. One who loved him as he loved her, and goddamn it all to hell, he needed to drive to Lansdown and see her again. They must be home by now, and she was avoiding him, and he was going to say he was sorry and then spank her if she got uppity and was practicing some kind of revenge that women did. Not that Fiona was that kind of woman. He didn’t think. No, he knew. She would take some training, and he hoped he had the patience, but he was going to have her as his submissive, and enough was enough. He turned to Alistair to tell he was out of there, gone to find his woman, but Andrew quite suddenly stood in front of him, offering the single tail.
All eyes were on him, and Dave felt himself blanch. Holy shit. He knew this was an extreme honor, and if he hadn’t just decided to go and find his future it would be terrific, but…Alistair bent a look on him, and Dave remembered he was a partner now, the details yet to be sorted out, but still a partner. He also remembered that Andrew was sending them business because it was mutually profitable, so he’d better not fuck it up. He’d show his expertise with this little sub and probably be able to pass the aftercare to Andrew, and he’d be gone. Twenty lashes wouldn’t take much time. He would ask her what she’d learned, bring her off with that vibe laid out on the bench to reward her, and the deal would be cemented. Then he’d be gone.
He asked Andrew for her safe word and then moved to take his place, hefting the whip, ensuring that it was as well made and balanced as his own so that it could become an extension of his hand. It fit properly in his hold, and his muscle memory stepped up to replace his adrenaline rush of leaving this place to go to Fiona. Dave placed the flat of his hand on the small of the sub’s back to alert her to his presence and then stroked down her spine, taking in her somehow familiar scent, unable to resist the texture of her velvet skin, but then yanked his hand back as if he’d been scorched. What the fuck? His cock surged, and Dave swallowed hard against the arousal. He’d been thinking of Fiona, that was it. He somehow had projected his burning, all-encompassing need for her onto this lovely sub. His voice came out harsher than he intended, unrecognizable even to his own ears.
“Count them.”
She tensed, then murmured. “Sir.”
The hairs on the nape of his neck whispered erect to mirror the state of his cock, and Dave ruthlessly choked his libido off. He laid the first stripe without further ado across the fullest part of her buttocks, reveling in her sharp intake of breath.
Another whisper, just the barest breath. “One.”
He should be making her sound it out, but damned if he wasn’t worried that hearing her count louder, the inflection in the word telling him of her need, would somehow interfere with his best-laid plans. He hurried to lay the next two on either side of the first and hardly waited for her to choke out the count before applying one to the glorious expanse of her back.
“Four.”
Dave’s brain finally caught up with his body. Holy fuck. Holy mother. He felt faint. The room literally swam before his eyes. His senses had recognized her, and his cock had telegraphed the message to his brain, but somehow the blood exchange between those two competing organs had mitigated it. He threw a wild glance at Alistair, who was looking goddamn complacent, like somebody whose plan had just come together. And at Andrew, whose satisfied face he was going to rearrange in the very near future. He pulled himself together and spoke.
“You’ve added two, sub, and you’ll add more if you don’t speak up.”
Her little body tensed, and her head in that concealing hood came up. “Dave?”
“Count, Fiona.”
Christ, the arousal now came off her in waves, and he could only believe it was because she’d learned it was him. He could smell her essence, and it drew him like the finest of perfume. He quit trying to sort out how this had all come to pass, this well-played little drama in which he, and hopefully Fiona, had been innocent pawns. The next stripe made her arch and cry out, but she counted and then he got into the pacing. He lashed, and she called in response, although she slipped into subspace at number sixteen, and her voice was thin and far away. At twenty-two he cast the single tail aside with marked indifference for such a fine tool and went around to face her. Tears streaked her cheeks and stained the fine leather of her hood, and he simply had to release it before he brought her off. He had to see her when she came. It slipped free, and he held her face between his hands, dwarfing her beloved features, pressing a hard kiss on her parted lips.
He ignored the vibe, drifting his fingertips down her gorgeous body, lingering on the beaded tips of her perfectly sized breasts, over the slight swell of her belly to her glistening folds. He slid a finger along the cleft to dip it into her copious moisture then up and over the little nub at the apex. She moaned and pushed into him, and he didn’t hesitate.
“What have you learned?”
“Not to call myself stupid. I’m not. I won’t. Please.”
Dave could hardly get his breath against that revelation and nearly groaned out loud at the thought of what Fiona inferred. He knew it was about him, and felt no hint of conceit, just deep regret. He so badly wanted to have a second chance to cherish the gift of her. He quickly feathered her clitoris with the tip of his finger and then rubbed ever-widening circles around it, pressing a little harder with every pass. Fiona whimpered and trembled. He watched her face carefully through his own emotional pain, alert to the signs of impending orgasm, certain he’d recognize them in his beloved. He felt the faint tremors at his fingertip, and her breath caught in her throat. Her features tightened, and she was there.
“Open your eyes!” She obeyed him, and he locked onto her, falling into those blue orbs. He thrust a finger inside of her, switching his thumb to her clit in an orchestrated dance that attested to his training, but this was Fiona, and it all came so easily, naturally. She climaxed silently but intensely, and he vowed to make her scream when he took her with his cock, but he was fiercely glad not to have shared this with the others present.
He petted her until she came back to herself and then released her wrists. He checked them and rubbed the chafed marks, pressing a kiss on the insides where the delicate veins showed through then stroked his hands over her arms to ensure the return of her circulation. He ignored everyone else in the room, concentrating on his woman.
He knelt to release the strap around her waist, carefully positioning his shoulder to support her as he did so. Alistair and Andrew both came to help, and he held them off with a baleful stare. Fiona was his. His. They instantly backed away, and he freed her ankles. She folded against him, and he shifted to let her slide down his chest and into his arms, then lifted her, cradling her against him. Andrew wordlessly gestured him to a room across the hall, and Dave carried her past the others, feeling as though he’d just been awa
rded the spoils of war. And this battle had been honorable.
Chapter Seven
Fiona loved how gently Dave laid her on the big bed, belly down, taking such care that her boneless neck and limbs were supported. She still floated on all those endorphins and the amazement that he was here, with her. That he’d been the one to discipline her and it hadn’t been just her fantasy. She didn’t want this moment to pass, fearful she would awake and find that it all had just been a dream. He came back to her, and she groaned at the gentle caress of his big hands as they passed the cooling lotion over her back and buttocks. She knew a master’s touch, and both the lashing and the aftercare spoke to his expertise. There wouldn’t be a mark left on her by morning. He eased her over onto her back and laid beside her, his now-naked body like a furnace, his cock nuzzling her hip like an anxious puppy with a very damp nose. She nearly giggled at her fanciful thinking, still adrift on the experience when he loomed over her, resting on his elbow, and lowered his mouth to hers.
He kissed her like she was some fragile vessel at first, learning her again, and then deepened the kiss. She opened for him and let him plunder the recesses of her mouth, tasting him, his spice and manliness, and she erupted with lust, all former orgasmic languor dissipating. This then was the natural state of things, the ultimate culmination of all that had been suggested before in their intimate moments. She had waited so long. She held him to her, lacing her fingers through the short lengths of his hair, desperate for him. He allowed her the aggression for a moment and then took her hands to pin them with one of his. His mouth released hers, and she cried out for him, but he kissed and licked his way down her neck, tasting each inch like a starving man. She let herself feel. He arrived at her breast, and Fiona heard herself begging and pleading with him. He laved the responsive tips before sucking one into his mouth and trapping the nipple against his palate. The pinch and burn made her writhe, and he shifted his weight to hold her steady against the tender assault. He repeated the maneuver on her other bud, and Fiona flailed her legs. She couldn’t bear it. She sucked in air to plead with him.
“Be still.” The throaty command made her pussy clench, and arousal flooded her channel. She tried to obey and was rewarded with the touch of his fingers over her mound, and one clever digit slipped between her folds and tantalized her private flesh. She let her thighs fall farther apart, and he rotated the heel of his hand against her in response. It reminded her clit of what had transpired not long ago, and that little nub throbbed in response. He didn’t touch it directly, but the pressure and movement had her holding her breath and anticipating. This time she did plead.
“Please, Dave. Please.”
“Tell me what you want.” He slid farther down her body, and that sneaky tongue lapped at her navel while her breasts cooled and longed for him to return.
“I need you, Dave.”
“Tell me.”
“I want you to make love to me. Please.”
He went so still that Fiona wondered what she’d said, what she’d done wrong.
“Fiona,” he groaned, like a man in huge pain.
Before she could ask, he lunged up over her and took her breath again, his hand blindly reaching to the little nightstand. He licked over her lips and pulled away. She watched dumbly as he tore open the little packet and extracted the condom. He sheathed himself with a remarkable economy of movement, and jealousy sparked, and her breath hitched. He instantly paid attention.
“What is it?”
“You’re so good at that.”
He laughed, the sound somehow not incongruous, for it seemed to come from a place deep within him. “It’s not from recent practice, sweetheart, I assure you. It’s because of intense need and the fact that I’m not going to knock you up for a long time yet.”
Fiona was both thrilled and amazed at his temerity. She would think about that later. She wiggled her hips beneath him, and his eyes darkened to violet, visible even in the dim light. He reached to push one finger up inside of her, and she winced when he added another but knew he was assuring himself of her readiness. She needed him too much to care and arched into him. He pulled his fingers out and unabashedly licked them clean.
“I’ll really taste my pussy another time, Fiona. But we’ve both waited far too long for this.” This was the nudge of his cock against her opening as he reached to guide himself. He inched forward and watched her intently as he pushed inside. He felt impossibly big, and Fiona wondered if Andrew’s refusal to use dildos had been a mistake, wondered if confiding her virgin status had been a mistake. But she trusted Dave and loved him. She made herself relax and lovingly drifted her hands over his shoulders and upper arms as he fought for a place deep inside her body. He allowed her touch, despite all she’d read about Doms demanding total control and permitting their subs to lay their hands on them only when they approved it.
He rested his forehead on hers, and his scent enveloped her, heightening her senses. He stared into her soul, and she felt his empathy when he surged deep, hurting her and filling her all at the same time. He waited for her to adjust, reading her, and she experimentally squeezed herself around him and reveled in his groan.
“I can’t wait, sweetheart. Hold on.”
He thrust in and out of her, powerful strokes, and she felt every inch of him drag against her sensitive tissues. It was too much, and she writhed under him in silent protest, and then everything abruptly changed. Her body accepted him as hers, and her hips lifted to meet his, her legs wrapping around him as though to bind him to her forever. Her mind catalogued the hard shaft plundering her pussy and the suede-like feeling of his sac as it aligned with her bottom cheeks even as her own hairless limbs ruffled the fur along his. Her breasts rubbed and poked against the hard planes of his chest, and the muscles in his arms and back flexed beneath her questing hands. She rocked her mouth against the side of his neck to taste him. He ground his pelvis against her clit, and she felt him high in her channel, pushing her into the familiar spike of a climax. But this was Dave, and he was inside her, and so it was different. Her heart entered into the race with enthusiasm, and she tried to take him ever deeper, and then she fell off the cliff, helpless against the onslaught of sensations that drowned her.
Dave groaned above her, and she pried her eyes open to see his face twist in a parody of agony, an ecstasy of release, and he held hard against her for another moment. Fiona kissed his throat and touched her tongue to the pulse that beat insanely there until he collapsed upon her. She couldn’t breathe, but it was okay. She didn’t need to breathe to feel so alive.
He eased to the side but pulled her with him, his cock still within her, and she lay, replete and exhausted, half on him, half on the bed, but connected, and the darkness swept over and pulled her under.
* * * *
He held her and watched her sleep. She looked exhausted, so fragile, although he knew the real strength in her. She had walked away from him after he’d essentially thrown her professed love back in her face, kicked her in the teeth, and she’d got on with life. He had no idea where she lived or where she worked, although he knew she had a job because Fiona was adept at taking care of herself. Not that she would need to worry about that in the future. He was going to marry her as soon as it could be arranged, and everything else would fall into place. There would be neither debate nor discussion. Well, he supposed she would want a wedding back home and everything that would entail. But he wasn’t going to deny himself one more damn minute. He wasn’t going to spend one unnecessary second away from her. He was going to spend every night inside of her and probably every morning, too. Maybe every afternoon. Along with other things they hadn’t had time to do. He would teach her how he liked his blow jobs and wondered for a dark moment if Andrew had been in her mouth. Something to discuss because oral sex didn’t constitute sex, or did it? And what about anal sex? Andrew inferred that he had never taken anything for himself, so Dave decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. It was either that or go insan
e with jealousy and possessiveness.
His inner caveman had him wanting to fuck her again, although he was totally okay with admitting he’d made love to her. He’d taken her virginity as gently as he knew how, humbled by her pure state. When she’d fought him, he’d nearly despaired because he’d hurt her and then it was as if a switch had been thrown. Fiona had found his rhythm and had been magnificent, and he couldn’t wait to play with her and enhance and extract all that passion that lived deep within her. He suspected she would be doing some extracting of her own.
There were a great number of questions to be answered, not the least of which was how long Alistair had known that Fiona had remained in Tulsa and wasn’t in Scotland with her parents. Dave ground his teeth at the thought of Andrew training Fiona, even if he was absurdly grateful to the man for keeping her safe while she explored what were obviously submissive desires and needs. She could easily have ended up with a far less scrupulous Dom, and Dave acknowledged that Andrew had never engaged in any kind of sexual congress with her other than granting her toy-induced orgasms. He sincerely wanted to believe that, because he was too damn possessive to want even one of her orifices shared by anyone else. Unless she had desires along those lines, something he fervently hoped wasn’t the case.
His cock had been filling again, snuggled as it was within Fiona’s silken heat. It liked its new home, and Dave was loath to pull out. He knew that using a condom twice wasn’t a preferred method of birth control, but despite telling his woman that he wanted to wait before knocking her up, he could see her in his head, her belly swelling with his child. His cock went to full alert in that instant, and he thrust once, experimentally. Fiona made a sweet little sound, and her pelvis hitched, her channel seeming to lay a long soft lick over his shaft. Dave eased her on top of him, his cock throbbing like a stiff tether between them. Fiona came awake, her ebony hair adrift around her graceful shoulders, and she smiled at him. It was the smile of a sexually satisfied woman, and Dave watched it morph into intense interest as she realized how he’d positioned her and comprehended the thickness between her thighs.
Apt [Running to Love 6] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 6