“Did you like the marks the man left on his sub tonight?” He continued to kiss her shoulder whilst toying with her nipple. Was he trying to drive her crazy?
Had she? At the time, she’d been horrified at first, then fascinated.
“I don’t know, Sir.”
“I like leaving marks. They remind you of me, even when I’m not there.” He pinched her nipple to the point it became uncomfortable. “Like this, what if I twisted it? Left a bruise? It would swell, and tomorrow, every time you moved your arm, it would chafe against your bra and remind you of me.”
She gasped as he worked the flesh back and forth.
Raven would like that very much. It was a bit of a shock, but her mind was so numb, so far gone, she couldn’t muddle through the thought much.
“I think I will give you a mark.”
She sucked in a breath and held it, arching her back slightly. Her gaze was so wholly unfocused to the point she saw odd patterns in the chipped paint.
Matías applied more pressure to her nipple and twisted in earnest, but it wasn’t that which made her scream. Teeth closed around the meaty part of her shoulder. He bit down to the point where she saw white stars in her vision and her whole body buckled under the intensity of it.
“Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop,” she chanted—but he didn’t.
Raven couldn’t even squirm, didn’t know which hurt to protest against. And yet, at the height of the pain—there was pleasure. She arched her back and groaned, her lungs too empty to support more of a protest. Her legs hardly supported her weight now, he held her in his grasp and at his mercy. The pain abated, but her head still swam on a fuzzy plane of awareness where words escaped her.
Her shoulder breast throbbed and her shoulder tingled a bit. She’d feel both beyond just tomorrow.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, mouth next to her ear.
Did she? She couldn’t remember now.
“No, Sir.” She sagged against him, sucking in deep breaths of air.
“What do you say if you want me to stop?”
“Red.”
“And will I stop if you just say stop?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good girl. You’re learning.” He pressed another kiss to her temple.
Again, the sense of pride rose up in her chest and she smiled. Matías bumped her chin, turning her face toward him. She stared into his brown eyes, mesmerized by the layering of dark browns that seemed almost black. It was as if his soul were held within the orbs of those eyes. There was pain and sorrow in his life, and she’d bet not much joy. Well, perhaps she could give that to him. A little happiness, a little pleasure for a man who gave so much.
“I’ll be damned,” he whispered.
“Hm?”
“Don’t worry about it. You’re doing perfectly.”
“Okay. Thank you, Sir.”
He chuckled and kissed her brow, lingering there. Damn if she didn’t want him to actually kiss her.
“Can you stand?” he asked.
“I think so. Sir.”
“Okay, put your hands back on the desk.”
He eased his hold and she planted her hands on the desk once more. Her shoulder ached, but it was a small thing. She widened her stance and he stepped aside.
“Usually, I’d have a bag of toys with a couple paddles, a hairbrush or two, some straps, and I could use any of them to spank you, but we’re a little limited here. I’m not about to use any of the crap in this dive. We’ll have to make do.”
“Does that mean you’re going to keep using your hands, Sir?” She could think of other places he could touch.
“If you’re a good girl.”
She could be very good, for him.
Matías didn’t resume his stance at her side. He remained behind her, out of her line of sight.
“Pull your hair over your shoulder.”
“Like this, Sir?” She did as he asked, gathering it to her left side and resuming her stance.
“Good girl.”
Did he have any idea what those words did to her? Or was she unique, or maybe just plain weird?
She shifted from foot to foot and felt the first twinge in her shoulder. Maybe he’d bitten her harder than she’d thought? Didn’t matter now, the mark was already there.
Something whistled through the air and popped her to the left of her spine, against her shoulder. Raven yelped and jerked her arms up, bowing her spine and freezing as the sting reverberated through her limbs.
“That’s going to leave a mark,” Matías said, sounding a little proud of himself.
“What the fuck was that? Sir.”
“My belt. Hands on the table.”
“God damn it,” she muttered, but did as he asked.
This time, she braced for the pop, tensing her shoulders and gritting her teeth against the aches. A swat to her ass with the palm of his hand caught her unaware. She jumped and rocked forward on her toes, gasping for breath as he followed it up with several more.
Raven thrust her hips back, moaning as the vibrations sank into her pussy. Arousal dampened her panties and her desire grew with each blow. She bent further, wanting his hand to strike her there, if for no other reason than to feel him.
His rhythm faltered and he side-stepped. She could see him out of the corner of her eye as he bent and wrapped an arm around her waist. He bit the curve of her ass and she hissed, holding still and gritting her teeth through it.
He was biting her bottom. Her bottom! With his teeth. And mouth. On her rear end. The shock of it kept her rooted to the spot as much as anything else.
Every time she sat—this was what she’d think about.
Her heart threatened to break her ribs and her elbows buckled. She dropped to her forearms on the table, wincing as he twisted the bite slightly. He let go and straightened, turning to face her. She let her head hang forward and sucked in deep breaths.
They hadn’t done much, and yet she had almost nothing left to give. He’d taken it all.
Matías tucked her hair behind her ear.
“I’m going to give you your six swats now. I want you to count them out, okay?”
She nodded.
“I asked you a question.” He tugged in a lock of hair, not hard, but it got her attention.
“Yes, Sir.”
She pushed up to her hands, her arms shaking.
“You can stay like that.”
Raven breathed a sigh of relief and settled on her forearms, clasping her hands together and widening her stance.
“This is going to hurt,” he warned.
“Bring it on, Sir,” she fired back. She’d signed up for this. She’d take what he dished out.
Matías chuckled, and she knew she was in trouble. The man was not to be trifled with, that was for sure.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to feel. Just concentrate on what he did to her, how he touched her. Her skin was warm, some areas throbbed, the bite marks and that welt pulsed the worst—and she liked it.
The whistle of leather through the air was all the warning she got. The belt slapped across the bottom portion of her ass, the doubled over end of it wrapping around her hip. She growled through her clenched teeth, squeezing her eyes shut.
“One.”
“One what?”
“One, Sir.”
“That’s a good girl.” He passed his hand over the impact zone and the heat of his touch sank into her bones. She shifted again, wanting him closer, and yet there were five more swats to come.
He lifted his hand and grunted. The strap coming down on the upper part of her bottom, just below her tailbone. She felt that one up her spine, and almost straightened as she saw stars.
“T-two. Sir.”
“What’s wrong?” He placed his hand on her lower back.
“N-nothing. Sir. Nothing, Sir.”
“Raven, I asked you a question. You will answer me or this will stop now and never happen again.”
“It just hurt.”
<
br /> “Hurt how?”
“Hurt up my spine.”
He pressed his thumb along the mark. As he got closer to the center, she winced.
“That was a bad pain. There is some pain that pushes endorphins into our bodies, heightening our awareness and releasing a pleasurable sensation. That was not it. When you feel pain like that, you tell me. That was my fault. I hit too close to your tailbone, which is bad. Okay?” He gently rubbed the place, soothing the hurt with his touch.
“Okay.” She breathed a little easier knowing the last blow would not be repeated.
“You have four more swats. Think you can handle it?”
She took a deep breath and blinked her eyes. Could she?
She could.
“Yes, Sir.”
“That’s my girl.”
He stepped back and she closed her eyes. Four more, just four.
The leather popped against her bottom, not as hard as the last swat, but plenty hard enough that she dug her nails into her palm and groaned.
“Three, Sir.”
Matías didn’t pause. The leather whooshed through the air and slapped her once more, harder and lower. She rocked up onto her toes.
“Four. Four, Sir.”
Two more. Two more. Two more.
The fifth blow fell on her left cheek, diagonally.
“Five!” she yelped, her spine going straight. “Sir!”
The last swat went on her right cheek, mirroring the fifth. She pushed up to her hands, groaning as fire licked up her spin.
“Six, Sir.”
The belt buckle jangled as it hit the ground. Matías wrapped his arms around her, touching her everywhere at once it seemed. He muttered words to her she could barely make out, and didn’t understand.
He bent his knees and picked her up with little more than a grunt. She wasn’t a small woman, but he carried her to the bed and set her down with as much gentleness as a person might use with something truly precious.
Matías tugged the blankets down and tucked her under the covers. He kept up a continuous dialogue that she couldn’t hope to follow. If he wanted anymore, Yes, Sirs out of her, oh well. It was beyond her ability.
Never in her life would she have thought allowing someone to spank her would be erotic, and now here she was. Turned on, with a hot man in bed with her—and no sex in her future. It was both heaven and hell.
Holy fucking shit.
Matías stood by the bed, still floored by Raven’s automatic reaction to not only him, but the play. She was a submissive. Under the ballsy, take-charge attitude, she had a streak in her that wanted to bend. There was no doubt about it.
She was vibrant, a touch wild, and incredibly independent, yet under his touch, she’d turned into a different creature. A beautiful, willing woman with limits yet to be discovered. He hadn’t expected that. At most, he’d thought he’d spank her a little, she’d pop off some sarcastic remark and they would have to agree that it never actually happened. But now, everything was different.
Some women had an air to them. It didn’t matter if they were meek or fierce, a housewife or a CEO, they wore their submission like a badge. Then there were those you’d never suspect. Women like Raven, whose personalities turned on a dime the moment that door was unlocked.
She lay curled up on her side, her lashes making dark crescents against her tanned cheeks.
Raven might wake up tomorrow and hate him for unlocking this hidden creature, this part of her he doubted she knew about. Not all people were ready for the truth about their sexual desires, and yet more people never realized them. There was no way to tell what she would think when the sun came up.
But it was his job to take care of her tonight.
Matías grabbed a bottle of water they’d picked up earlier at a bodega down the street. Among the other supplies he’d been able to grab were toothpaste, a comb, and deodorant. It would have to get them through until tomorrow, and hopefully after another meet with Victor, he could get Raven home. She didn’t belong in this world, most especially now that things with Victor were edging into dangerous territory.
He took the water back to the bed and twisted the cap off.
“Raven, drink this.”
She cracked one eye open, glaring at him. When he’d realized she’d hit subspace, that place where the world stopped turning and all that mattered was the moment between sub and Dom, he’d nearly pissed his pants. It was a state of altered consciousness, where the senses were heightened and emotions sharped. He’d known some people to never achieve it. Not everyone could tap into that mindset, and for her to do it her first time—remarkable.
“Drink this or I’ll make you.”
She sighed and sat up, wincing as she settled against the headboard and took the bottle. He watched her sip a few times before her thirst kicked in and she gulped down most of the bottle. Her hair was mussed, and no doubt they’d need showers tomorrow, but right now she was beautiful to him in this post-play guise of sensuality and decadence.
He wanted her, but the rules he’d laid out meant that tonight, she would go untouched by his hand. Or dick. Or tongue.
Christ.
He needed to get a grip.
This wasn’t about him. It was about her.
Matías toed out of his shoes and stripped down to his undershirt and boxers. He wasn’t so much of a gentleman that he’d give her the only bed in the room. It was big enough to share. Besides, he needed to talk to her a little bit, ensure she really was okay.
He snagged the comb from their stash and slid into the bed next to her. She set the now-empty bottle on the nightstand and turned to him, her eyes heavy-lidded and sleepy.
“Turn around.” He ripped the packing open and pulled out the comb.
She did as he requested, crossing her legs with her back toward him.
He gathered her hair up so that it fell down her back in a long, glossy cascade. He hadn’t often brushed a woman’s hair, but he knew enough to start at the bottom and began working the tangles and snags out.
“How are you doing?” he asked her.
“Fine. Am I still supposed to call you Sir?”
“If you like.”
“What are you doing now?”
“Taking care of you.”
“Is that normal?”
“Yes. Following any kind of play, there should be aftercare.”
“You mean bottled water service?”
“Well, you should drink something, but it can be different for everyone.”
“How so?”
“Well, some people want to be held, others want to be left alone or go sit with friends, maybe sex or food is part of it.”
“This happens during negotiations, too? Talking about this, I mean.”
“It should.” Drawing the comb through her hair soothed him in a way he hadn’t expected. The dim light from the only lamp in the room cast glossy highlights onto her locks, mesmerizing him.
“What do you like to do for aftercare?” Raven asked.
The mental image of sheets twisted around naked flesh snapped to the forefront of his mind. His erection was going to be problematic at this rate. He needed daydreams of her naked like he needed a hernia.
He pulled the comb through her hair, starting at the crown of her head and going down to the ends. With each stroke he breathed deep, pushing the erotic images from his mind. Tonight was about opening a door, giving her a glimpse inside. It wasn’t about him or his needs. It was all about her. She tipped her head back and her hair seemed to shimmer with hues of blue and black.
“Are you going to answer me?” she asked.
“Depends on who I’m with.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Fine, I like to have sex after play.”
“Because it’s hot?”
“Because there’s an intimacy to playing I’ve never been able to find anywhere else. It’s like all intentions and pretenses are thrown out the window and we’re left as just ourselves. Nothing
else. No lies. Nothing to prove. We are who we are, and that’s it.”
Connecting with people was something he didn’t do well. Relationships, even with friends, were fraught with suspicion because he couldn’t turn the field agent part of him off. But there was no room for that when he played. It was just him and his partner.
“There. All done.” He placed the comb on the nightstand. There wasn’t a knot or snarl left in her hair now, but it didn’t mean he wanted to stop.
Raven turned toward him. She’d pulled herself together, presenting him with that beautifully serene face. For a moment, she studied him, and he couldn’t guess what was in her mind.
“I think…I would like to be held,” she said slowly.
“Come here.” He scooted down the mattress until he could lay flat.
She crawled toward him and curled against his side, resting her head on his shoulder and placing her hand on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her close. She didn’t realize the precious gift she’d given him. The submission of any woman was a beautiful thing, but for her to discover that under his hand, it was another experience altogether.
He listened to her breathing grow shallow and even as she drifted off to sleep. She even hummed a little, which was odd and cute.
Standing in that bathroom an hour ago, he would have never imagined he’d be where he was now, in bed with a boner and a woman with half a dozen marks on her body. Whatever happened tomorrow, he was responsible for her now. And not just as his pilot. Her mental wellbeing when she woke up and wrapped her brain around the highs and lows he’d pushed her to could very well make her hate him. Or, she could need more guidance as she found herself in the BDSM world. It was one with its own rules and predators. Unlike the weight of responsibility from his work, he would shoulder this with pride. So long as she didn’t hate him.
Chapter Six
Victor adjusted the collar of his shirt, ensuring it laid perfectly so.
There was trouble, he could smell it like blood in the water, but he didn’t know where it would come from. After last night, he was reasonably certain he had José in his pocket. The man didn’t have the resources to be a pain in the ass, but he was well connected. A little more pressure and the man would be an asset.
Entrusted: A Drug of Desire Novel Page 8