Rescued by the Woodsman

by Parker, M. S.

  “It wasn’t hurt on my mind,” he admitted gruffly. “But I don’t trust myself. Besides…” As I watched, his cheeks went a dull, ruddy red. He was embarrassed, I realized. I waited for him to pull back, to hide away from me again, but he continued and said, “All the things he would say to me…I still hear them. In here.” He tapped his temple. “I’ve been away from him for a long time, but I hear him all the same. It’s like he’s on repeat in my head sometimes and when I…”

  As his words trailed off, understanding filled me.

  “You’re punishing yourself. What he used to do, you’re taking over.”

  “In a way.” I could tell he didn’t want to look at me now, but he did it anyway.

  I hurt for him. I wanted to draw him into me and stroke away all those pains, all those fears. I also wanted to hunt down his father and beat him stupid, but that wasn’t going to help anything, was it? But maybe I could help with this.

  “You’re not the only person who’s hurt himself for a reason like this,” I told him, brushing his hair back. “Others have done it – others do it all the time. What you have to do is figure out a healthier way to deal with this…edge you described.”

  “Healthy.” He snorted and sat up. “There’s nothing healthy about the shit I’ve got going up here.” He tapped the side of his head again.

  While I agreed he had some unhealthy ways of dealing with some rough shit, I suspected there was just as much broken in his soul as in his mind. But I wasn’t going to go there. Not right now, maybe not ever.

  But…

  Clearing my throat, I said, “Can I ask you something?”

  His face took on that familiar shuttered expression, but he said softly, “I can’t guarantee I’ll answer.”

  “That’s fair.” I smiled at him. Then, taking a deep, shaky breath, I dove in head first. “Maybe I’m wrong, but I get the feeling when we’re…intimate, there are things you’re holding back from me. Am I right?”

  The shuttered expression didn’t disappear, but I caught a flicker in his eyes. It might have been surprise. “What makes you think that?”

  “Instinct?” I shrugged, smiling weakly. “I don’t know. I just…it’s hard to explain. I get more from what we have together than I’ve ever gotten from any man, but something tells me you’re not giving me everything. I don’t mean personal everything. It’s just…you’re holding back on me, aren’t you?”

  “You won’t even call me sir, Stella. I’m not sure you’re ready for anything more intense than what we’re already doing.”

  “I don’t call you sir because it puts me in the mind that I’m not your equal, and I am,” I said tartly. “I’ve lived most of my life with people making me feel like I’m less than them. Maybe they don’t even do it intentionally, but the reason we’re even involved is because I made the choice to cede control to you. That means I have some level of power in this relationship. Calling you sir when I’ve already ceded control is just…it’s not me.”

  He latched onto one thing in all of that.

  “Whoever it was that has made you feel less…they are wrong,” he said, cupping my cheek in his hand. “That is all there is to it.”

  My heart threatened to flip. I held it in check through will alone.

  “Smooth,” I said, keeping my voice light. “But I’m still not calling you sir.”

  He laughed, the sound rusty. “Fair enough.”

  “Will you tell me what you’re holding back?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

  “It’s not any one specific thing, Stella. There’s no formula for this. You say you don’t want to have sex in front of others and I’m too greedy to share, but if I tell you I wanted to strip the blouse from you in the middle of the dance floor and show the other men that I had something they wanted…what would you do? If I’d touched you…” He cupped one breast in his hand. His lids drooped as he found the nipple puckered and tight. “Would you be as aroused as I think you are now? Or would you pull away?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, voice raspy. “But I’m willing to try it.”

  “And when I tell you that I plan on fucking your ass and listening to you beg me to stop, then beg me not to…does that scare you or turn you on?” he demanded, his hand moving from my breast to tangle in my hair.

  “Both.”

  “It will hurt.” He caught my hip now, fingers spread wide to curve over my ass. “I already know that, and I don’t even care because that means I’ll be the first one to sink my cock into that hot little hole. What does that make you feel?”

  “Hot.” The word was almost more of a squeak than anything else. Wiggling in closer, I pressed my lips to his chin. “Almost everything we do scares me a little. But that’s one of the things I love about it. It’s what’s been missing from my life, Lukas. Stop holding back.”

  23

  I gasped as Lukas finished screwing the butt plug into place.

  I was already a quivering mess of sensation, thanks to the minutes he’d spent putting nipple jewelry into place, drawing it out under the guise of adjusting the fit – and then doing the same when it came to a pretty little piece that he’d told me was a clit clamp.

  It sounded painful.

  It felt…unreal.

  My clit was engorged and already swollen, and now, as he spread the cheeks of my ass, clearly looking down at the plug he’d just put in place, I thought if I had to so much as move, I’d come.

  Then he moved me, straightening me away from the desk and turning me to face him.

  “You’ll keep all of it in place all day,” he told me, brushing the back of his fingers down my cheek.

  “Yes, Lukas.” I nodded, but I was so caught up in the sensations, I barely knew what I was saying. He could have told me that he wanted me to walk naked down to my cubicle, and I might have agreed.

  Or…maybe not.

  A minute later, as my head slowly cleared, I held out my hand for my panties, and he hesitated.

  “I need my panties, Lukas,” I said, almost desperate. I had a conference call in less than ten minutes, and I had to get down to the bathroom.

  He lifted the lacy silk scrap to his mouth. “But I like them.”

  Throwing a look at the clock, I gave him a pained look.

  “But I need them.”

  “You do know what to say, right?” He was pushing me, I realized.

  “I’m insanely wet,” I said, pushed to the edge. “If this…thing falls off me…” I gestured to my front. “Or if I started…” I hesitated, not certain how to explain. “What if I sit down and end up standing with a wet spot on the back of my skirt?”

  Lips pulled to the side, he considered me, then slowly, held out the panties.

  I grabbed them and all but ran from the room.

  In the bathroom, I hurriedly cleaned up, terrified I’d dislodged the clamp. I wasn’t worried about the plug, but…whoa…the way it felt inside me. Sitting down was going to be interesting.

  Once I’d wiped off as best as I could, I pulled my panties back on and wondered if maybe I should start wearing pants to work.

  It had been two weeks since that weekend when we’d opened up a little bit to each other – I’d spoken to HR the weekend I came back, asking if I could please withdraw my resignation. Naturally, it was just for form. Lukas already knew I’d changed my mind and had contacted HR as well. But still, it was the courteous thing to do.

  During those two weeks, Lukas had done exactly as he’d said he’d do. I’d asked him to stop holding back.

  He’d promised to try, and wow, was he holding up that promise.

  One morning, I’d come in with a voice so hoarse, people had thought I was coming down with something.

  No, but I hadn’t been about to tell them that Lukas had made me scream myself senseless and my voice was trashed because of it.

  Another day, he’d confiscated not just my panties, but my bra. Fortunately, I’d worn a pantsuit with a double-breasted blazer that day, which had pr
obably given him the idea.

  But nothing he’d done compared to what he was doing now. Each step was torture, an exercise in exquisite sensation and maddening patience as both the nipple and clit jewelry teased those areas into points of surreal pleasure, while the plug seemed to be a locus of heat that pulsed from within.

  I was already wet again by the time I reached my desk.

  Just in time for the phone call too.

  * * *

  I was all but quivering by the time Lukas led me into his room.

  He took the overnight bag he’d asked me to pack and dropped it on the floor, then turned to me.

  He held out a hand, and I stepped closer, putting mine in his.

  Just that light contact had me shivering, and he dipped his head to murmur in my ear, “You look like you’re about ready to come, just standing there.”

  I managed a jerky nod.

  “It makes me want to toy with you even more. Should I?”

  “Please don’t, Lukas,” I said, the words hardly more than a moan.

  “Would you cry wolf?” He fisted a hand in my hair and dragged my head back, staring into my eyes with a gaze that burned.

  I didn’t answer.

  “I’ve watched you all day, knowing that your nipples must be aching, that your clitoris must feel the same. I’ve watched you all day, wishing that it was my dick in your ass and you can’t even give me that?” There was something almost…teasing in his voice.

  I opened my mouth, almost ready to say it.

  But he kissed me before I could make myself.

  “We’ll find another way to bring you to your knees, Stella.” His tongue licked into my mouth, and I curled my arms around him as he pulled me closer, but the press of his chest against my over-sensitized nipples was too much, and I tore my mouth away, shuddering.

  “Lukas…please. It almost hurts,” I said.

  He reached for the buttons on my blouse, that gaze of his still burning hot. “I want to see you.”

  He stripped me bare, and when he had peeled every last stitch of clothing from my body, he circled me, pausing to tug on the chain that connected the two nipple charms. I cried out, feeling an answering pang in my cunt. He slid his finger to my shoulder and continued on his slow journey around my body. When he reached the front of me again, he startled me by going to his knees and staring at the apex of my thighs, an avid gleam in his eyes. “You’re so wet, I can smell it on you.” He leaned in and stabbed at my clitoris with his tongue.

  I came.

  The touch of him was like liquid lightning, and I’d been primed for him all day long. With a broken gasp, I caught his shoulders and squeezed, struggling to stay upright.

  He caught me by the back of the thighs, supporting me with his strength, but the moment the orgasm ended, he was on his feet, his face rigid as he glared down at me. “You came without me giving you permission, Stella. Say you’re sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, Lukas.”

  “Kneel,” he ordered.

  I did so, my mouth watering at what I thought was coming.

  “You like sucking cock so much, I should find a better punishment,” he muttered. He threaded one hand through my hair and reached for the slim, silver buckle on his belt with the other. “The problem is, your mouth is one of the best damn things I’ve ever felt. I don’t want to give that up.”

  When his cock sprang free, I leaned in, taking him in my mouth, but Lukas wouldn’t let me take the lead. He grabbed my head between his hands and fucked my mouth, slow, lazy motions that denied the frustrated hunger building inside me.

  When I would have reached between my thighs to stroke it away, he said, “Don’t you play with yourself. You’re my toy right now. You touch when I say you can.”

  I moaned, but his words made me burn.

  His toy.

  His.

  Even if only for this.

  He came inside my mouth after only a few more strokes, each one rougher than the last, making me think the game we’d been playing affected him as much as it did me.

  He pulled back almost immediately afterward, his cock still half-erect, and he made a bemused noise in the back of his throat. “I should be ready to sit and have a glass of scotch after that, and all I can think about is taking a look at your ass to see that plug. Stand up, Stella.”

  Once I did, he had me turn around and put my hands on the bed. I was far enough away that I had to lean forward to do so, and I bit my lip at the open, vulnerable position he left me in. The charms still dangled from my nipples although the clit clamp had fallen out of place, probably when he’d kissed me.

  And the butt plug…

  He pressed his thumbs to the cheeks of my ass, spreading me open.

  I could feel him watching me.

  “I’m not ready to fuck you here yet. I won’t be gentle, and you need to be more prepared first.”

  “I don’t care if you’re gentle,” I said desperately. I had a huge, yawning void inside me and I just wanted him to fill it.

  “You will. But for now…” He thrust two fingers into my pussy. “Feel how tight this is, Stella?”

  I barely heard him. The feel of his fingers invading me while the plug narrowed down my passage was too much, and I swayed forward, almost collapsing. It was only his hand, gripping my hip firmly that kept me upright.

  “Move closer to the bed,” he said.

  I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t move, could hardly breathe.

  Breath shuddering out of me, I tried to follow his fingers as he withdrew – then plunged them back inside.

  “Fuck, you’re already about to come again…not without me,” he said brusquely. He withdrew his fingers and slapped my ass abruptly. “Don’t come without me, Stella. You hear me?”

  “Yes, Lukas.”

  A moment later, I felt the head of his cock probing me, then he was inside – but he didn’t thrust. I didn’t know if he could – he was wedged in tight, thanks to the plug, and the feeling was indescribable. Whimpering, I bounced up on my toes trying to lessen the pressure – or take more, I had no idea.

  He withdrew and began the slow process all over again. Each thrust took him a little deeper, and I was shaking, shuddering, begging, pleading.

  “I can’t hold it back, Lukas, I can’t!”

  “You will.” He spread both hands across the base of my spine and rocked against me. “You won’t come yet…not yet.”

  I cried out. “Bastard!”

  “I know. But…bad girl, calling me names. You just enjoy being punished, don’t you?”

  Something slapped the cheeks of my ass, and I jumped.

  The sting was sharper than it had been with either the velvet whip or with his hand, and I gasped. He did it again, and I arched upward, squirming. I couldn’t decide if I wanted more or not. Then he did it again – and the twist my body made in reaction seated his thick, heavy cock completely inside me.

  Oh…yeah. I liked.

  “Little witch,” Lukas breathed out. He threw something down. I saw it from the corner of my eye, and when my gaze focused on it, I realized it was his belt.

  At that point, I didn’t care.

  He could paddle me with a switch, and I’d light up for him no matter what.

  “Lukas…please…please…please…”

  He grunted and withdrew, his hips swiveled forward as he slammed into me, driving deep despite the tightness caused by the plug. I shrieked out his name. “I have to…please…come…please…”

  “Come for me, baby girl,” he said roughly. “Come for me.”

  I came apart, and it was…amazing.

  Just like everything about him was amazing.

  Shuddering, I twisted on the thick shaft impaling me, riding the climax to the very end. If it was possible to die from pleasure, then I’d choose this as the way to go.

  * * *

  Breanna, Gracie, Lukas, and I shared a table at a brewery just down the street from work.

  Gracie had menti
oned it to me, and I’d asked her if she’d like to join Breanna and me.

  Breanna had given me a look like I was some alien lifeform when I’d told her, still confused about the marriage business, but finally, she’d said, “If you’re cool with it, I’m cool with it.”

  That had been a week ago – right before Gracie and I met for pizza…and to talk.

  Gracie had issued the invite then.

  Now, after issuing the invite to both Gracie and Breanna and Lukas, I tried to figure out just how I’d describe this time in my life if I ever had to do so. Well, I hung out with my…sexual companion, his wife, and my new best friend. And we somehow managed to get along great.

  And we did.

  There wasn’t any tension, but part of me thought it was because Lukas, Gracie, and I all knew there was nothing expected between any of us.

  Lukas and I were in this for the sex, right?

  Lukas and Gracie were in it for something else.

  As Breanna and Gracie laughed about a TV show they both loved, Lukas nudged my knee with his under the table. “Somebody is giving you a dirty look. Should I go mess up his face a little?”

  I didn’t have to ask who he meant. I’d seen Aaron come into the pub about five minutes after we’d been seated, and I could feel the hard weight of his glare arrowing into my back.

  “Nah.” Lifting one shoulder in a shrug, I said, “He isn’t worth it.” And I meant it. “He and Terri are welcome to each other.”

  “He still doesn’t need to be giving you dirty looks.” Lukas looked like he was debating, but finally, he hitched up a shoulder. “If it doesn’t bother you, then I won’t worry about it.”

  * * *

  “Mr. Grayson?”

  The graying, grizzled older man didn’t look up at first, so I spoke louder. I’d been directed to the outdoor patio by one of the employees here at the assisted living center. After looking for him for the past week and a half, I’d finally tracked down Lukas’s father – and the man who’d raised his hands to the boy Lukas had once been.

  Just before I would have said his name a third time, the older man stirred in his chair and lifted his head, blinking at me with bleary, sleep hazed eyes. He might have been resting, I had no idea.