by Eden Bradley
“Yes, now.” How to communicate her need to him?
She slid her hand from his grasp and brushed it across the front of his slacks. His eyebrows shot up but she’d felt his erection. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Are you trying to tell me what I think you are?”
She kept her voice low. “Yes. Now. Please?”
“No problem.”
The talk was over, anyway. They stood and quietly made their way to the door while everyone else was still chatting.
They hurried along the dark street to Jillian’s car. Cam handed her into the passenger side, then went around the car and got behind the wheel.
“Are you sure about this, honey?”
“I’m sure.”
He put the key in and revved the engine. “I guess going to the talk tonight was a good idea.”
She nodded, smiling at him.
She watched him shift as he pulled into the street, the way his big hand caressed the stick shift. She wanted that hand on her body, on her breasts, between her legs. She wanted that hand to spank her, pinch her. She could hardly wait. Her pulse hammered in her veins all the way home.
They didn’t speak. She figured Cam probably didn’t want to risk blowing the mood. She didn’t, either. She didn’t want to talk about it. She just wanted to do it.
They arrived home and Cam led her into the living room. The amber glass sconce mounted on the wall in the foyer cast a dim glow. Cam took her hand, and when they were in front of the big sofa, he pulled her sweater over her head. He covered her breasts with his hands. She could feel the heat of his palms even through her black satin bra. He squeezed a little, as though testing the fullness of her breasts and she arched into his touch.
“Not yet,” he said firmly. He leaned in and kissed her, slipping his hot tongue into her mouth.
He pinched one nipple as he slid his hands away and Jillian could swear she felt it in her sex, as though he’d pinched her there. She shifted, rubbing her thighs together.
“Hold still, Jillian. I’ll be right back. I don’t want you to move.”
That soft, commanding tone again. She loved it. And she did her best to hold still, even with Cam out of the room. It was a strange sensation. Strange in that she found some deep satisfaction in doing exactly as she was told. He came back in a few minutes, his hands full. He emptied the items onto the coffee table, taking a moment to line everything up: a coil of rope, a pair of leather handcuffs she hadn’t seen before, the clamps, a small crop. A deep shiver went through her.
Quietly, Cam undressed her, took everything off, until she was standing there naked. The air was cool, but not uncomfortable. She could hear the chirping of crickets outside. There was no other sound but her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.
“Lie facedown on the couch, Jillian.”
There was not a single part of her that thought about discussing the issue. She obeyed.
Her mind was going still already. All worries and doubts drifted away as she focused on her body.
The suede of the sofa was soft against her skin. She pushed her breasts into it, savoring the sensation against her erect nipples. But then Cam’s hands were on her and that was all she could think about.
He ran his palms over her skin: her back, her buttocks, her thighs. She could feel the heat of his hands on her, the intensity of his energy. Then he slipped a hand between her legs, brushed it across her aching mound.
“You’re wet already, baby. You are so fucking hot I can’t stand it.”
He withdrew his hand, gave her ass a small slap. She arched into it, raising her ass in the air, needing more.
“Ah, in a hurry are you? Don’t worry, you’ll get exactly what you need.” He chuckled softly.
He pulled her arms behind her back, and she felt the strange sensation of the leather cuffs being buckled around her wrists. She could smell the earthy scent of new leather. It made her shiver. The bonds gave her that feeling of safety she so loved. And something else, something about the leather itself, and the fact that these were handcuffs—actual handcuffs. The idea of it was a huge turn-on.
She waited, her whole body buzzing.
The slap came hard, taking her by surprise. And she realized immediately it wasn’t his hand, but the crop. She loved the feel of the leather on her skin instantly. Realized she had been craving it since the moment she’d laid eyes on it.
He smacked her again. It stung deliciously. She wanted more.
And Cam gave her more. He began with a few light smacks of the crop, working it in a pattern over her buttocks. She could feel her skin heating up, growing more tender. Yet at the same time each slap of the leather felt better than the last, sending shock waves of pleasure through her system.
The smacks came faster and harder. And with each one her sex filled and ached, even though he hadn’t touched her there.
“Do you like it, Jillian?” His voice was a little ragged, husky with lust.
“Yes, Cam.”
“Do you want more?”
“Yes!”
“Say please, Jillian.”
“Please, Cam. I want more. I need it.”
She felt his lips on her as he trailed soft kisses over her heated skin. It was such a lovely contrast to the bite of the crop.
When he pulled his mouth away and the crop came down hard, the sting was incredible. She almost cried out at the pain. But the pain immediately converted to a pleasure that swept her body.
“Tell me what you want.” Another hard, loud smack.
“I want more. Please, Cam!”
The leather singed her flesh as he started a volley of hard slaps. She writhed on the couch, pressing her hips into the cushions, her body begging for relief. And still it went on, smack after smack, and nothing but her own rough breathing in her ears. Her mind was going to some far-off place, yet at the same time she was more present in her body, and in the moment, than she’d ever been.
She groaned aloud when he stopped.
Cam grabbed her around the waist, lifted her, and suddenly he was sitting on the sofa and she was draped facedown across his lap. She could feel the hard ridge of his cock pressing into her hip. Her sex gave a convulsive shudder.
He ran his hand over the hot flesh of her buttocks, tracing the welts left by the crop. He said softly, “I’m going to give you the spanking of your life, Jillian.”
And then it began. First it was a tapping of his fingertips against her skin. The gentleness of it was excruciating to her and she squirmed.
“Hold still, Jillian.”
But she couldn’t; she didn’t want to. She wanted more.
He gave her ass a good, hard slap, and she smiled.
When he smacked her again the sting reverberated through her system, making her sex throb and her hips dance. She pushed her buttocks higher into the air, giving Cam access to every inch of her, craving the touch of his big hands. On her ass, on her wet sex.
Cam rubbed his palms over her skin for a moment, and then began again, only this time he didn’t stop, didn’t pause to let her take a breath. The volley of slaps grew in intensity and speed, and she really started to lose it. Only the awareness of her hot, aching sex kept her anchored in her body. The pain and the pleasure were a sweet mixture that made her whole being thrum with need. She writhed in his lap, wanting, wanting. It was never enough, no matter how much it hurt.
The sting turned to a heavy thud and still he went on, his hands coming down on her, feeling as though they were almost abrading her skin. The sensation was unbelievable, the pain at a point where she almost couldn’t bear it, and yet she still loved it, still needed more.
She was dimly aware that her breath had turned to ragged pants, that she was moaning aloud in between. And still the spanking went on.
When she thought she’d die if she couldn’t come, just from the pain and the pleasure, Cam reached down with one hand and rolled her clit between his strong fingers. And he didn’t stop smacking her with the other hand. The slapping and his fingers wo
rking her were too good. The pain from the spanking was sending shock waves through her, straight to her core. Then he gave her swollen clit a good, hard pinch and she went right over the edge, into the most earth-shattering orgasm she’d ever felt in her life. Her sex spasmed, her legs shook, and she screamed something entirely incoherent. Cam kept spanking, kept pinching her, and the waves pounded over her. The harder he pinched, the harder she came, and she didn’t ever want it to stop.
Finally, it did. But still he was spanking her, and she found through the lovely postorgasm haze that she wanted him to. Now that she’d come, she focused in on the sharp sting of his hand on her flesh. Over and over his palm smacked her. The pain was exquisite. Hard and beautiful.
She felt light, yet the pain kept her in her body. It was as though she could truly feel in a way she never had before. But it was too good to really think about it.
“God, I love you, baby,” Cam said through gritted teeth while he smacked her ass, over and over.
And she felt it, felt his love pouring into her. Tears she didn’t understand stung her eyes. And soon she was crying, then sobbing. Cam stopped what he was doing and pulled her upright into his lap, cradling her.
“Baby, baby. Shh,” he crooned.
But the tears wouldn’t stop. She felt so good all over. Felt more, somehow. Physically, emotionally. And it all seemed like too much. The sensations and emotions overwhelmed her and she couldn’t stop the tears.
Cam held her tight while she shook in his arms, the sobs wrenching her whole body. All of the pain she’d held inside for far too long came pouring out, and the sobbing turned into hard, wrenching howls until she thought she might choke.
Cam smoothed her hair, whispered to her, but she didn’t know what he said. All she knew was the white-hot pain of grief and loss stabbing through her. She couldn’t bear it; it was far too awful. It flowed through her limbs, thundered like a hammer in her chest.
She didn’t know how long Cam held her shuddering body, how long the tears were wrenched from her. When it was over, she ached everywhere. She felt empty, wrung out, exhausted.
Cam seemed to know she couldn’t talk about it. He picked her up, carried her upstairs, put her into their big bed. He lay down beside her, kept his arms around her, held her close. Almost instantly, it seemed, she slept.
Cam woke in the dark to an empty bed. He knew immediately something was very wrong. He felt the stillness in the house even before he went outside to find Jillian’s car gone.
No. He would not lose her like this.
It was early, barely six A.M., but he knew where she would be. The sky lit with the pale blush of impending dawn as he drove the route to Briana’s place. The streets were silent, lonely, laced with wisps of fog.
Why had he pushed her so hard? He’d thought he was doing it for her own good, for the good of their marriage. But how much of it had been purely for his own desires? And now he’d pushed her away.
He knew she’d had some sort of emotional breakthrough last night at the end of their play session. He’d read about that happening, and he’d thought he had handled it the right way. But maybe it was simply too much for her. He loved what they’d been doing together. But not more than he loved her. He needed to tell her that.
When he pulled up in front of Briana’s, Jillian’s car was parked out front.
Briana opened the door at his knock. She was wearing sweats and her hair was mussed, but she didn’t look angry. That was a good start, he guessed.
“I need to talk to my wife.”
Briana looked away, then swung her gaze back to his. “She asked me not to let you in. But I think she needs you.”
He started to move past her, into the house, but she put a hand on his arm. “Cam, she’s very fragile right now. Very raw.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“Okay. She’s in my room.”
He found her in Briana’s bed, wrapped in a white down quilt. A cup of tea sat on the nightstand beside her. He could smell the chamomile and the sweet tang of honey.
Jillian turned her head away from him as he sat down beside her. “I can’t talk to you now, Cam.”
He could hear the weight of grief in her voice and his heart ached for her.
“I think we need to talk. Right now.”
“Please, Cam—”
“No, Jillian. You can’t run away from it anymore. That’s what this is all about. Don’t you see that?”
“All I see is that it hurts too much.”
“I know. But it’s time to stop hurting. It’s time to stop blaming yourself.”
Her head whipped around. Her eyes were huge, her lashes damp with tears. “How did you know?”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“No. It was my fault. You don’t understand why, but it was. And I can’t stand to lie to you anymore. I can’t stand to be with you and feel everything I’m feeling, finally. I love you too much, and you deserve better.” The tears spilled over onto her pale cheeks. She said in a whisper, “I lost the baby because I didn’t want it.”
The admission was almost too much to bear. The words tore through her chest, into her heart, but she had to say it. Had to say the whole thing out loud.
She looked into Cameron’s eyes. They were dark with strain, his brows furrowed. “It was my fault, Cam, because I didn’t want the baby.”
“What? What do you mean?”
She went on, the words tearing like shards of broken glass as they left her mouth. “I didn’t want it. Not at first. We weren’t prepared. We hadn’t planned on ever having children. After the first three months, when the morning sickness was gone and I’d had some time to accept how much our lives were going to change, I started to really love the baby. But it was too late.” Her voice broke on a sob and she pressed a hand to her mouth.
“Oh, my God, Jillian. You have to know that’s not true. You’ve been carrying this around with you this whole time? Jesus.” His voice was thick with emotion. “You have to let this go.”
She shook her head. “It hurts too much, Cam. Especially now.”
“Why now?”
“After…after last night. It was as if my whole being just opened up. And everything came pouring out. Good stuff, but the bad stuff, too. It’s like I’ve been split wide open. It was too much, realizing how much I’d hurt you. How much damage I’ve done. I feel…irredeemable.”
“Is that why you came here? Why you felt you had to get away?”
The pain in her chest was fierce, burning. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Cam. I don’t think I can be with you and feel like this.” She began to shake all over.
“No, honey. Don’t say that.” Cam tried to take her in his arms, but she shook him off. She couldn’t stand it if he touched her now.
“Don’t pull away. I can’t lose you, Jillian. I won’t.”
He reached for her again, and again she tried to fight, but in a moment his arms were around her and she couldn’t get away. She struggled in his grasp, but the tears were starting again, making her weak. It hurt so much! She couldn’t bear to feel so much at once. Cam’s embrace was too warm. There was too much love there. She couldn’t stand what she was doing to him.
He held her tight. “Baby, baby, no. Come on, let me hold you. I love you, Jillian.”
She went still in his arms, too tired now to fight. But the tears poured down her face, her mind a mass of confusion.
“We can get through this, honey. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. Not if you let me be there with you.”
She sniffed, wiped her face with a corner of the quilt. “How can you not hate me?”
“It wasn’t your fault. I love you. I love you more than anything in this world. You didn’t lose the baby because you wished it away. You lost it because that was the way it was meant to be. And if it’s just the two of us for the rest of our lives, then that’s okay. As long as I have you, I have everything.”
“You deserve more, Cam. You deserve bet
ter.”
“I don’t want anything but you. If I haven’t made you feel that, then that’s my fault, not yours.” He held her face in his strong, warm hands. “Be with me, Jillian. You’re all I want.”
She heard the sincerity in his voice. Saw it in his eyes. And something about it made her heart open up, but this time it felt good. She let her body relax and leaned into him. Relief washed over her in a warm tide as his words hit home.
“I thought I had to let you go, Cam.”
“Never. We’ll never lose each other again. I promise you that.”
His gray gaze was more intense than it had ever been, and she saw the pure emotion there. And suddenly she understood.
“You’ve been carrying some guilt, too.”
He looked surprised for a moment, then said simply, “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t fix it for you.”
“Oh, Cam.” She slid a hand around the back of his neck. His skin was warm there. “Nobody else could fix this.”
“I know that. But still, it was my responsibility. And I failed.”
She could see how hard it was for him to say that, and she knew why. “You’re not your father, Cam.”
“I’m no better than he was if I let you down.”
“But you never did.” How was it possible that he thought he had? He’d always been there for her. She was the one who had turned her back on their marriage. And he was the one who kept fighting so hard to get it back. And they had, she realized. Why had she thought it was over?
“Cam, I love you so much.”
His tight features softened. “Then come home with me. Let’s keep trying. I need you with me, Jillian.”
“I need you, too. I can’t do this without you. I don’t know why I ever thought I could.”
He leaned in and kissed her with that lush mouth of his, and the warm safety of his love swept through her. They would get through this. Together. And for some reason, that knowledge made her feel stronger than she had in a long time. Stronger than ever before.
“Let’s go home, Cam.”
CHAPTER ONE
THE SUN WAS JUST SETTING IN A BLAZE OF orange and pink flame as Cassandra drove along the Pacific Coast Highway. Her hands tight on the steering wheel, she scanned the street signs, looking for her turnoff into the Pacific Palisades area of the Malibu hills.