HeroRising

by Anna Alexander

  Bale lowered his head to nuzzle her as if he were a giant cat. “Ariel. This is no place for you.”

  “Or you.” She fingered the thick link of chain. “What are you doing here? I thought you turned yourself in.”

  “I did. The captain didn’t want me as a criminal. He wanted the Claymore’s help to capture a bigger threat. I told him I would not commit any more crimes. He gave me the night to reconsider his offer.”

  “Why the chain? Are you in pain?”

  “No pain. Weak. A little nauseated and uncomfortable. But at least I am locked away where I can’t hurt anyone. Especially you.”

  “So this is your grand plan? Stay chained up in here for, what, forever?”

  “As long as it takes to pay for my crimes.”

  “And who determines that?”

  “You.”

  She stepped back and laid her hand on his cheek. “And if I think you’ve suffered enough?”

  “Eternity would not be long enough.”

  Of course he’d think that way. And here she thought she was the one who leaned toward the dramatics. As she stroked her thumb over his skin, she noticed the way he swayed into her touch. Despite all his talk and insistence on remaining sequestered, he still craved contact. Until Bale believed he had completed his penance, they were at an impasse. Talk wasn’t going to convince him and she sure as hell wasn’t going to whip him. For one, she didn’t have a whip handy, and two, those things were dangerous. She was just as likely to injure herself as well as Bale.

  Out of the corner of her eye she spotted several dowels of various sizes leaning against the wall and her heart kicked up a gear. According to Amaryllis, pain had been the catalyst that broke through his guilt the last time he fell into the pit of self-pity. Who was to say it wouldn’t work again? But did she have it in her? Could she give him what he needed?

  She licked her lips and tucked her hair behind her ears. “Just so we’re clear, you insist on remaining here, tied up, as a punishment for contributing to my freak out?”

  “Ya.”

  “And even though the duration of this punishment is up to me, you don’t think you’ve served enough time?”

  “Ya.”

  “Okay.” She rubbed her hands together and walked over to where the dowels rested behind him. The one she chose was two inches in diameter and about three feet in length. The stick was light and when she swung an experimental arc, a soft whoosh followed in its wake.

  Wow. Oh Lord. She released a long breath and looked at Bale. The broad expanse of his back flexed as he shifted his weight. As quiet as ever, he didn’t ask what she was doing, but his head was cocked as if to listen for her movements to give her away.

  She stepped up behind him and reached around his waist for the buckle of his belt.

  He jumped. “What are you doing?”

  “You want to be punished?” She pulled his jeans and boxer-briefs down to his knees. “That’s what I’m doing. Spread your feet apart.”

  “Ari.” He turned his head left and right to try to catch a glimpse of her.

  “No Ari. Now spread ’em.” She popped him on the butt with her open palm. “You’re at my mercy now.”

  With a sideways glance, he shifted his feet. Before he settled into place she struck the first tap to his firm backside.

  It wasn’t a hard blow, but a light, testing smack that didn’t even leave a mark. She swung again and this time his flesh rippled and a pink welt blossomed. On the third strike Bale moaned and leaned into the hit.

  Whoa. She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes and wiped her damp palm against her skirt. Okay. Testing done. Now was the time to get serious.

  With each hit he let out a short groan as the muscles of his ass flexed and clenched and a soft blush spread beneath the scattered blows.

  The balance between pain for punishment and pain as cruelty was a thin edge she never before traversed and she approached with extreme caution. This wasn’t about hurting Bale, but to give him a release from the emotions he didn’t know how to process.

  Every few seconds she looked to him for any signs that she had crossed the invisible line. His eyes were closed and his head hung low. A slight grimace twisted his lips with each strike, but other than that, the only sign of his discomfort was the sweat that slickened his skin and his reddening butt cheeks.

  Bale was a warrior and was trained to withstand the harshest of environments, plus she knew that if she asked him about his welfare, he’d refuse to answer and ask for more. But his cock couldn’t lie and right then it was saying a lot about his state of mind.

  As she continued to rain blows, his hips jerked and his erection bobbed in the air. Swollen and red, the tip grew wetter by the second and his balls drew up tight. Above their heads his hands clutched at the chain and his entire body tensed and she recognized the clenching of his jaw as a sign of his impending orgasm.

  She dropped the dowel then ran her fingernails down his back and over his hot ass. He hissed and bucked, her name falling like a plea from his lips, but either in prayer or a curse, she couldn’t tell.

  “Can you take more?” She stood on her toes to whisper in his ear. In her flats, she was barely able to peek over his shoulder. “Or have you had enough?”

  “Whatever you desire,” he panted.

  “I desire more.”

  Actually she desired a lot more. Between her thighs she was slick and her pussy pulsed with hunger. But this was not about sex and her needs had to wait.

  She reached around and grabbed his cock at the base. Twisting her wrist, she rubbed up and down the hard shaft, stopping just short of stroking the wet crown.

  Bale began to moan. “Please stop.”

  “You don’t like this?”

  “I love it,” he gasped. “But I don’t deserve this pleasure.”

  “What about this?” She stuck two fingers into her mouth then pushed against the tight opening of his anus. Slowly she worked the tips up into his body until they were buried to the knuckles.

  In her hand his cock twitched and a spurt of pre-cum shot from the tip. The fingers buried in his ass scissored and searched for that magic spot that would make him beg for more. She didn’t know if his species had a prostate gland, but she was gonna do all she could to find out.

  When his cock bucked again, she squeezed the base of his shaft and stilled her probing fingers. He shuddered in her arms and his knees buckled. She slid her hand down to massage his balls as he caught his breath. He sucked in a long draw of air between his teeth and she began again, jacking him off with one hand while fucking him with the other.

  Against the backdrop of his animalistic growls, the chain squeaked and rattled in rhythm with their movements. His cock kicked and she froze and tugged his testicles, which made him howl with frustration.

  Twice more she worked him to the edge of release then pulled away at the last moment. Pressed against his sweaty back, her shirt adhered to her chest like plastic wrap and her hair clung to her neck in ropy strands. Her arm slipped over his side and her lungs burned as she rode the wave with him. Only his bound hands kept them on their feet as she clung to his slippery body. She closed her eyes and absorbed the sound of his cries, the up-and-down motion of his billowing chest, and the play of muscles of his back.

  The scent of man and sex filled her nostrils and made her weep with the need to take him down from his restraints and quench both of the fires turning them into ash, but this wasn’t about her. The touching, the stroking, all this was about showing Bale she cared enough about him to give him what he needed. She cared enough to break him down to his base self, to unravel the layers of self-recrimination to expose the man who craved touch. Her touch. Her love.

  Bale’s trembles turned into a full-on spasm and his head tipped back with a roar. This time she didn’t stop his orgasm. She sank her teeth into his back and milked his cock. It took all her strength to hang on as he jerked in her arms. In her hand his cock spurted over and over and she used the we
tness to ease him off his high as she gentled her strokes until his erection softened and his cries ceased.

  Her hands shook as she unwound the chain from his legs. When she reached to release his arms, she lost her balance and fell against his back.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled, still struggling to catch her own breath.

  She wasn’t tall enough to free him from the rest of the chain, but she hoped it was enough for him to regain his strength. As she stepped around to face him, she wiped at her face with the hem of her shirt. Bale looked completely undone. His face was pale but for the red flush across his cheeks and his swollen lips from where he had bitten them to hold back his cries. The muscles of his chest, arms and legs twitched independently of each other as if attached to electrodes. But his eyes, oh. His eyes burned bright with myriad emotions. Disbelief, love and most of all hope.

  The sparkle dimmed as she spoke, “Never again, Bale. I love you. I love the man you are and the man you want to be, but I can’t do this again. Bondage, a little spanking while playing together, fine. But this is too much. I don’t have it in me to hurt you in such a way whenever you can’t communicate. I’m not a Domme. I’m just Ari, who loves you and wants to work our differences out. If you can love me as I am, come find me.”

  Without a backward glance, she left him hanging on his hook and let the door close behind her with a soft click.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ari stepped out of the shower and stood on the bath mat for several long minutes with her eyes closed and her hands down by her sides. All her focus was on drawing in one slow breath, then another, allowing the coconut-scented steam to fill up her lungs.

  The sound of her beating heart filled her ears, reminding her that all of life started with the basics. Blood moving through the veins. Touch. The tickle of each drop of water as gravity pulled the molecules down her body. Starting at her toes, she wiggled each digit, digging them into the cotton shag, then flexed each muscle in her legs from the calves to her thighs. All the way up her body she worked tendon and tissue, stretching, twisting, bending her limbs.

  Wasn’t one supposed to be thankful for the little things in life? Here she stood, able to function and move with ease. She had a roof over her head and a job to pay the bills and keep food on the table. Those were the important things, right? Everything else was fluff. Inconsequential bullshit that meant nothing and stayed behind once you died.

  Bale. The Claymore. The entire assassin-from-outer-space situation were complications, not insurmountable obstacles that prevented her from living a fulfilling life. She alone was in control of her destiny and future happiness.

  Just as Bale was in control of his.

  Yes, everyone needed to let off some steam, but the extent to which he wallowed in his guilt was not healthy. At some point he was really going to break and she had no idea how to sweep up the remains of an explosion destined to hit epic on the Richter scale.

  An itch began in the middle of her right palm and radiated out through her fingers. She pressed her thumb into the center and turned her hand to the front and back, searching for any visible sign of her altercation with Bale. The power she had wielded with the dowel had been frightening and empowering. To have that much control over another’s well-being was a heady sensation and had the ability to blaze out of control in a nanosecond. Bondage, a little rough sex, she was ready and willing, but the night had turned into something deeper, darker, much more dangerous for the uneducated. And she had the feeling she had gotten lucky earlier and all had turned out as she planned. If she and Bale were to continue as a pair, instinct was not going to be enough to keep either of them from getting hurt.

  If Bale and she were to continue…

  Big if. No, she hadn’t gotten over his past history, but she loved him. She ached for him. She was willing to take a chance. Focus on the now, just as she did her breathing. Could Bale?

  The last of the big droplets of water settled into a fine mist and the cool air sent bumps across her skin. She tugged a towel around her shoulders like a blanket. Her limbs were active, but carried all the strength of pudding. There were what, fifteen, twenty steps to the bed. Lord help her make it to the soft mattress.

  The bedside lamp glowed bright and cheery in the corner. Normally that would be a welcome sight, but wrong since she hadn’t bothered to turn it on when she had stalked straight to the bathroom when she’d returned.

  “Ariel.”

  Bale stood in the bedroom doorway. His hair was damp as if he had just showered as well. A black shirt stretched across his chest and the soft-looking exercise pants made a smile tickle her lips. Wow. He actually owned a pair of pants that were not jeans.

  Deep lines bracketed his mouth and his dark brows were lowered with uncertainty. One bare foot was pointed toward the exit as if he expected to be kicked out at a moment’s notice. He was beautiful and tragic, and if she had the strength, she’d weep for all that had happened to him. As it was, all she managed was to shake like a naked poplar tree that had all its leaves blown away by a storm.

  “I understand now, Ari.” He sighed and crossed to her side to scoop her up in his arms. “I need to hold you. May I?”

  Exhaustion and her own need to be held made her compliant. The fact that his body was toasty warm and eased her chills was an added bonus she was too greedy to deny.

  Neither made a sound as he tucked her beneath the sheets and molded her to his side. While he stroked one hand along her spine, the fingers of his free hand traced a delicate line from her brow to her chin. With one of his broad hands he could completely cover her face or crush her bones with one blow, yet his touch was so gentle, so tender and reverent her heart ached all the more.

  In his eyes she saw his fear that she would still reject him, his regret at not being able to voice what was in his heart, his love, his apology.

  “Ariel,” he whispered, his voice breaking as moisture made the black of his eyes glitter.

  She whimpered and tears she didn’t believe she had left trickled down her cheeks. Funny. Here she thought she needed a litany of words but in actuality, she just needed one. In that one word she heard his love. Heard the emotions he didn’t know how to verbally express unless he was beaten into submission. Just the sound of her name coming from his lips told her all he felt in his heart.

  “You undo me, liera.” He gathered her close and dropped light kisses to her trembling lips. “I swear I will do all that I can to never give you cause to cry anything but happy tears.”

  “I am happy.”

  “I know otherwise.”

  Shit. That was right. He could read her emotions. However, reading and understanding were two different things. “I’m overwhelmed and exhausted. Confused and pretty much out of my mind right now.”

  “And yet you still claim to love me,” he said with disbelief.

  “Yeah, I do. Crazy as that seems.” She scraped her fingernails over the stubble on his cheeks. “Do you— Do you think you’ll be able to love me? Even though I’m not your wife?”

  “Ah, Ariel.” He touched his forehead to hers. “I love you for your differences as much as your similarities.”

  “But her death drove you to madness. You killed for her.”

  “I will kill for you too.”

  “Bale—”

  “Ari, I love you so much that at times I-I—” He choked and his lips curled over his teeth. “You are mine to love. Mine to protect. No matter the cost. My thirst for revenge is no more, but make no mistake. I will protect you to the death, whether it be mine or whoever threatens you. This I vow.”

  The fierce intensity of his promise brought forth more tears. “God, what is wrong with me that I can’t stop crying? I need to be more like you. Strong like a rock.”

  “No.” His brow furrowed as his nostrils flared and the muscles in his jaw tightened. With an open palm he tapped at the center of his chest. “Inside,” he rasped and swallowed hard, slapping his chest again. “Inside.”

 
The rawness in his voice broke through the last of her reserves and she melted in his arms, wrapping her limbs around them as they both shook with emotion.

  Bale was the man for her. This broken warrior who loved so deep, he allowed it to consume him. This man who spoke very little, but lived by each word. There was no doubt he would fight against any demons out to harm them, just as she would battle the demons of his past and keep him in the light. Together, they were unstoppable. As long as they trusted in each other.

  “Bale, promise me.” She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “You’ll let me know how you feel. You don’t have to say anything, just let me know, somehow, that you’re okay. We’re okay. I don’t want to be going along, thinking everything is fine and dandy then come home to find you hanging from the ceiling in chains. Please.”

  “Done.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “If only I had your power to sense emotions. It must be nice to have that knowledge about someone.”

  In her arms Bale tensed. His hand paused mid-sweep down her back and she swore she heard his heart skip a beat.

  She froze along with him. Obviously she had said something that struck a nerve but damn if she knew what it was. After all they had been through that night, and all the things he’d confessed to, what had she said to make him tense up as if she had asked him to shed his skin?

  “No.” He hugged her tight as she tried to move away. When he tipped her chin up, she saw that pinched expression on his face again. “Do not pull away. You know, for a human, you are quite adapt at picking up on my emotions, but I understand what you are saying,” he drew in a breath, “and there is a way.”

  She didn’t move, didn’t dare blink as her throat tightened. Surely he wasn’t going to suggest the merge or mind-meld or whatever it was Amaryllis called it?

  “We could bond.”

  Shit. That was the word. “Are you serious?” she screeched.

  Did she want to be with him? Yes. Did she want to be confident of his feelings for her? Of course. But to go from dating to bonded mates was a huge leap. “Why would you even suggest that?”