What He Guards (What He Wants, Book Twelve)

by Hannah Ford

  But this time I knew it wasn’t just a threat.

  This time there would be punishment.

  He gazed down at me, his eyes searing, then walked around so that he was standing behind me. He ran the flogger down over my shoulder, sliding it over the curve of my back.

  My hands were on my thighs, and I dug my nails into my skin, waiting in anticipation for the first blow.

  But Noah took his time, circling me like a hunter circling his prey.

  “Charlotte,” he said. “Do you know why you’re here, in this room, on your knees?”

  “Because I sent that email to Ryan Ramos.”

  “And what did that do, Charlotte?”

  “It put me in danger.”

  “That was a very foolish thing to do, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The flogger came down hard on my ass. He was a perfect shot, the leather strips hitting me square in the middle of my butt cheek. I gasped in surprise and pain.“Please, sir,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

  “You will learn to obey me,” he growled, and I could hear the fear and dominance that had been simmering inside of him all day finally boil over as the flogger hit my skin once again.

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  He struck me again and again, coming down on the exact same spot on my ass until adrenaline coursed through my veins and dulled the pain. Just when one part of my skin would go numb, he would move the flogger to another area and start the cycle of pleasure and pain all over again.

  He flogged me for what seemed like forever, and then he tossed the flogger onto the ground.

  He stood in front of me, tall and strong, his chest heaving, his eyes hooded as he stared down at me. The intensity in his gaze was so electric it was almost unbearable to look at him. An invisible force drew me to him, and I wanted to reach out and touch him so badly.

  I had to look away, because if I didn’t, I was afraid I would try to move toward him.

  “Look at me.”

  I forced myself to meet his eyes. He surveyed my body, deciding what kind of exquisite torture he was going to put me through next. This was his domain, and he was going to exercise control over my body in any way he desired.

  “Stand up, Charlotte.”

  I got to my feet and he pointed to the padded table against the wall.

  I walked over and climbed onto it.

  “On your back.”

  I laid on my back, my heart pounding in anticipation. From out in the main room came the sounds of men jeering and a woman moaning. I closed my eyes and imagined that girl on the stage, her resistance as that man ripped her gown.

  “Eyes open, Charlotte,” Noah snapped.

  He leaned over me on the table until his lips were so close to mine it would only take me raising my head a fraction of an inch for us to be kissing. “If you close your eyes again, I will flog you, Charlotte, and this time it will be harder.”

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  He took my hands in his, pulling them up and over my head on the table, and I felt the cool bite of metal as he strapped my wrists into handcuffs, restraining me.

  He moved to the end of the table and grabbed my ankle, bending my knee slightly as he began unzipping my shoe. His touch was soft, gentle, as he slipped it off of me. He kissed the arch of my foot, and the bliss it sent buzzing through my body was surprisingly intense.

  It wasn’t because he was touching my foot – I’d never much been into that – but because he was suddenly being gentle with me after he’d flogged me and handcuffed me. He was so complicated, a dichotomy of lost and strong, of in control and reckless that it left me constantly off balance.

  I wanted to give myself to him.

  He moved to my other foot and removed that shoe, too, rubbing my instep with his fingers and sending waves of pleasure through my body. This time he took my leg and held it up, skimming his fingers down my skin, over my ankle, my calf, all the way up to the inside of my thigh.

  He rested his hand there for a moment before he began moving it higher, and I gasped and looked away as he fingers found my center.

  He immediately dropped my leg and took his hand away.

  His eyes darkened in displeasure, and he moved to the wardrobe in the corner and pulled out a slip of black fabric.

  “You’re so determined not to look at me,” he said. “Let’s see how you do when you have no choice.” He tied the blindfold around me, plunging me into darkness.

  My heart raced and my instinct was to struggle against him, but I stayed still, knowing if I did that, it would only make it worse.

  I could sense him moving away from me, and then something brushed over my skin.

  The flogger.

  He slapped it against my stomach, and I gasped, my back arching, my hands pulling at my restraints. The metal bit into my skin as I struggled, and I tried not to move, knowing it would make the marks on my wrists darker and more pronounced. But I couldn’t help it. Every blow was a surprise, every strike a shock.

  He flogged me again.

  And again.

  And again.

  He moved from my stomach to my pussy to my legs. His flogs were calculated, organized, each one expertly hitting the exact same spot on my skin over and over, leaving me breathless.

  Finally, I heard him toss the flogger back onto the floor.

  I longed for him to pull my blindfold off me, to look me in the eyes again while he ravished me. But he was in control of me now, and he was going to keep that control for as long as he could.

  I felt his body press down on top of mine, my breasts flattening against his bare chest. His lips crushed against mine, his tongue opening my lips and tangling with mine. My body was on fire as he moved away from me and licked a searing trail down my abdomen.

  When he got to my legs, he pushed them open and slid his finger down over my slit.

  I instinctively bucked my hips, but he held them down, pinning them to the table.

  He blew on my thighs, on my stomach, his breath hot and wanting.

  “Stay still, Charlotte,” he commanded. “If you don’t stay still, I’ll stop.”

  “Yes, sir,” I moaned.

  He grabbed my thighs, his thumbs spreading my pussy apart until my clit was hard and exposed. I could feel him there, inhaling my scent, his breath still hot and searing on my skin.

  The anticipation was driving me insane. I was white knuckling my self-control, holding on with everything I had not to move or moan or beg.

  He kissed my pussy softly, a tiny little feather kiss that caused me to lose my grip on my willpower. I moaned.

  “You like that, baby?” he asked, his voice gentle.

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  “Yes, sir, I like when you kiss my pussy like that.”

  “Beg, Charlotte.”

  “Please, I need … I need to feel your mouth on me.”

  He kissed me again, this time right on my clit, flicking his tongue against me for half a second before pulling away again. “Beg.”

  “Please,” I whimpered, twisting my hips. He held me tight, pinning me down.

  “Don’t move, Charlotte.”

  “Please,” I was so wet I couldn’t take it. It was the worst, best, most amazing kind of torture I’d ever experienced. I wanted him so badly. “I can’t…. Noah, please, I need you to put your mouth on me.”

  “Where?”

  “On my pussy.”

  “Again.”

  “I need you to put your mouth on my pussy.”

  He slid the pad of his thumb all the way up my slit, skating it over my clit before applying more pressure. I pulled against the restraints, gripping the cuffs tightly as his mouth finally found my center.

  He kissed my pussy open mouthed, his tongue exploring me while his strong hands held my hips firmly in place. My clit swelled with need as his tongue and mouth moved against me, traversing my core.

  “You taste good like this, baby,” he said. “
I like you smooth.”

  The smoothness of my skin had served to intensify every wave of pleasure that was pulsing through me. There was nothing standing in the way of his tongue against my pussy, nothing to dull the ecstasy that radiated from his expert handling of my body.

  He brought me to the edge the way only he could do, and even though I knew he wasn’t going to let me come so quickly, I couldn’t help but whine when he pulled away. His hands released my body, and I immediately began to squirm on the table, rubbing my legs together in an effort to give my body even just a small amount of release.

  He let me move, and I could hear the sound of his belt unbuckling, the sound of his zipper sliding down slowly.

  I felt him brush his hand down over my hip, and I knew he must have been standing next to the table, staring down at me. He skated his hand back up over my stomach, and slid his index finger into my mouth.

  I sucked on it hungrily.

  Then he took my arms and crossed one over the other before grabbing me by the hips and flipping me over. I was still in the restraints, my wrists stuck in the handcuffs, but now I was on my stomach. He slid his finger, wet and warm with my saliva, down my spine, and I shivered.

  From the main room came the sound of cheering, and a flash of me up on that stage in front of everyone, those men watching Noah control my body slid into my mind, and I moaned.

  “I’m going to fuck you now, Charlotte,” Noah said. He slapped my ass hard with his open palm, and I jumped.

  I felt his body press down on top of mine, his chest pushing into my back as he laid on top of me.

  His cock was hard and pushing against the curve of my ass.

  I tried to push back into him, to hoist myself up onto my elbows, but the weight of his body was heavy on mine and he wouldn’t allow me to move that way.

  “Stay still, baby,” he said. “Keep your legs together.”

  He cupped my chin in one hand as he pushed his cock in between my legs, pausing for a moment before thrusting into me, hard and deep.

  I cried out as I felt myself spread out around him. His shaft was thick, his head swollen, and it took me a second to get used to his width inside of me.

  “Good girl,” he groaned. He brushed my hair over my shoulders, and began fucking me harder and faster, his hand still cupping my chin. His thumb skated over my bottom lip.

  I tried to push back into him, but he stopped fucking me, slapped my ass hard with his hand. “Stop. Moving.”

  I stopped, but he waited a long, intoxicating moment before he began thrusting into me again.

  “Your pussy feels amazing, baby,” he whispered in my ear. “You feel so tight around my cock.”

  He began moving even faster, his hips pistoning into me. I tried to open my legs, but he spanked me again until I pushed them back together.

  “Yeah, that’s it, baby,” he groaned.

  He reached down and pulled my blindfold off before kissing me, his mouth claiming mine. I moaned into his kiss, his lips and tongue muffling the sound. He pulled away from me and looked into my eyes.

  “Charlotte,” he whispered. “Tell me you love me.”

  “I love you,” I breathed.

  He groaned and kept moving, faster and faster inside of me, and I stayed completely still. He was in charge of the pace, the positioning, and he knew exactly what I needed to be pushed over the edge.

  “Tell me again,” he breathed.

  “I love you,” I said. “I love you, Noah.”

  “I love you, too,” he whispered, and then his eyes changed, the vulnerability causing him to retreat back into dom mode, his cock moving faster and faster, fucking me hard and rough.

  He grabbed my chin and held it, his hands squeezing my cheeks as he pounded into me.

  “Noah,” I breathed.

  “No, Charlotte. Not yet.” He kept going, sliding in and out of me.

  “I can’t,” I said. “Noah, please, I can’t…”

  He pulled out of me completely, his body poised on top of mine, his breath coming in heaving gasps. The anticipation of when he was going to start fucking me again only heightened my pleasure.

  He made me wait for another long, torturous moment.

  “Come for me,” he groaned. And then he slid back into me in one long, deep stroke.

  As soon as he was buried inside of me, I came, my pussy convulsing on his cock as fireworks exploded through me. My orgasm swelled and pulsed, overtaking my body in a rampage, leaving me shivering as I spasmed on the table.

  Noah’s came inside of me, his cock emptying his seed into my body, and I felt that warmth spread through my body.

  He stayed inside of me for a moment, pushed my hair off my face again, and I closed my eyes as I became overwhelmed with emotion.

  I loved him.

  I loved him so much.

  He kissed me softly on the lips, then stood up and unhooked my handcuffs.

  I sat up and rubbed my wrists softly.

  Now that the hormones and adrenaline were dissipating from my body, I was beginning to feel the damage. My wrists were rubbed raw, and a small plumy bruise was beginning to bloomy on my thigh.

  Noah saw me looking at it.

  “You’ll need some ibuprofen.”

  I nodded.

  He began to get dressed, and I picked up my body suit and put it back on. As I did, I thought I saw a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned my head toward the corner of the room where I’d thought I’d saw it, but there was nothing there.

  “Charlotte,” Noah said, concerned. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” I shook my head. “I just… ” I saw it again before I could finish my sentence.

  A slight flicker of movement toward the corner of the room.

  I took a few steps toward the wall.

  And that’s when I saw it.

  Someone had drilled two holes in the cement.

  And a pair of eyes was staring back at me.

  Someone had been watching us the whole time.

  “Charlotte,” Noah said. “What’s wrong?”

  He followed my line of sight and I watched as understanding dawned on his face.

  “Stay there,” he said.

  A second later, he was rushing out of the room.

  There was no way I was staying here without him.

  I followed him back out into the main area of the club, just as a masked figure ran out of the room next door. The figure rushed toward the back of the club, weaving in and out of the dense throng of club goers that populated in the main room.

  Noah chased after the figure, and I chased after Noah.

  The masked man was moving toward the back of the club, to a corridor that snaked off to one side.

  He ran into the hallway, and Noah ran after him.

  I struggled to keep up with them as Noah chased the man down the winding corridors, taking turn after turn. I had that same feeling I’d had last time I was here, like I was being led underground. But while before it had felt like I was going down stairs or descending in an elevator, this felt more like we were really going underground, deep into a basement or a dungeon.

  The musty smell intensified.

  My breath was coming in short gasps, and I realized I had no shoes on. The roughness of the cement floor was gritty under my feet as I forced my legs to keep moving.

  Eventually, we reached the end of the hallway. At the end was a large set of double doors with a sign on them that read NO UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS -- DUNGEON MASTERS ONLY.

  But the masked man pushed right through the door.

  A second later, Noah followed him.

  So I followed him, too.

  “Charlotte,” Noah said, when he realized I was behind him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

  “I had to,” I gasped. “I can’t… I couldn’t stay there without you.”

  “Jesus, Charlotte,” he said. “You are being incredibly stupid right now.”

  He was a few feet ahead of me and he turned a
corner.

  As he did, a door on the corridor opened right in front of me, blocking my way and stopping me in my tracks.

  A woman skittered out into the hallway. She was down on the floor, holding onto the doorknob, her body half in and half out of the room. I looked down, startled and confused. She gazed up at me. She was naked, her skin that same bronze I’d seen earlier on the waitress.

  It was the waitress. I recognized her sparkling blue eyes, her high sculpted cheekbones.

  “Help me,” she said, grabbing at my ankles. Her long nails scratched my skin. “Please, you have to get me out of there. They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me, they want to use me for – ”

  But before she could finish, a pair of gloved hands grabbed her ankles and pulled her back into the room. A second later, the door shut and the sound of a bolt turning echoed through the hallway.

  I kept moving, following Noah, my heart beating in fear.

  When I found him again, he’d caught up to the masked man. Noah had wrestled him to the ground, pinning him by the arms as the man struggled.

  But Noah overpowered him.

  I watched in terror as Noah reached down and grabbed the bottom of the man’s leather mask, pulling it over his face, exposing the man who’d been watching us, the man who’d said he was going to cut me and gut me, the man who’d said he’d been excited to watch me die.

  As the mask moved up over his skin, revealing his face, I gasped in horror, my hand flying to my mouth.

  It was Josh.

  END OF BOOK TWELVE – Click here for Book Thirteen, What He Commits, available now!