Black Light: Branded

by Parker, Kay Elle

  She went willingly when he tugged her inside. She only had a second to gape at the room before the door closed behind her, then her back rapped into the wood. His palms slapped on either side of her head, caging her between his arms.

  “I suggest you try hard, Ava,” he told her sternly, gray eyes boiling with emotion. “Because if I ever find a mark on this body that isn’t already here, I’ll give you something to cry about. Do you know what figging is?”

  She gulped. “A distant cousin to fisting?”

  Finn’s lips twitched, she swore they did. But his eyes didn’t lose that authoritative glare. “Not even close, little dove. Figging is where I take a big, thick piece of ginger root and whittle it into whatever size and shape I feel appropriate.” His accent thickened until he all but drawled the words. “Then I bend you over and make you hold open those cheeks so I can see that tight asshole of yours.”

  Her buttocks clenched against the door. She had a feeling she knew where that rhetorical piece of ginger would be going. “Could we avoid involving my ass in this, Sir? It’s very particular about things going in the wrong direction.”

  This time, he smirked. “Got a clever mouth on you now, don’t you, little dove? Might just have to put that to use in a short while. When it comes to punishment, your ass is always going to be a prime target.”

  Oh, fantastic.

  Finn reached down and took both sections of the ripped dress in his hands. The look he gave her was dark and devilish—a damned good look for him, she had to admit. “You’re right to look nervous, Ava. Once that ginger plug is pushed deep into your ass, you’ll know the true meaning of burning. Oh, that got your attention,” he said with a low laugh. “Trust me, I know subs who thought they could handle it. Believed they could grit their teeth and endure. Do you know what they did, little dove?”

  Mesmerized, Ava shook her head slowly.

  He grinned as he wrestled her out of his jacket and tossed it aside. There was an edge of wicked glee in his eyes that told her he was enjoying the idea of punishing her. “They cried. Begged and pleaded with their Doms to take it out. Whimpered and wailed and wriggled their abused bottoms to make the burning stop. But nothing punishes an errant submissive like a figging.”

  Wetness streaked her thighs. The combination of his voice and his words reignited the ache in her belly. It only deepened when he finished what he started in the elevator and ripped the rest of her dress in two.

  The strength in his hands was just incredible.

  She couldn’t protest when he stripped her completely, the ruined garment fluttering to the carpet. All she had left were the heels a kind member of Black Light had kept spare in her locker, and Ava got the impression he had plans for them.

  Fingertips trailed lightly over her skin, tracing the side of her neck, the tops of her shoulders. She shivered, though the air was pleasantly warm. “Please, Master Finnegan. Please don’t tease me.”

  Callouses on his palms scraped her breasts as he cupped them, rough thumbs rasping over her nipples. “I can, can’t I? For the next six hours, I can play with this body, tease it, torment it in so many lovely ways. Edge you until you can’t take it anymore and beg me to fuck you. Yes, I do like that idea.”

  “I can beg you now, Sir, if that’s what you’d like.” Please, please don’t make me wait six hours. “I don’t think I’ll make it to morning without imploding.”

  “Let me be the judge of that,” he advised, and dragged his fingers down her center until he found her, wet and hot. He stroked her gently, delving between her labia and pushing two fingers deep inside. “Hmmm, yes, this is quite the predicament, isn’t it? Here was I, fully intending to end the night with coffee and getting to know you better, and this greedy little pussy is squeezing me so nicely. What to do, what to do.”

  They could get to know each other in much more carnal ways. Her hips rocked, desperate to feel a bigger, thicker part of him despite the lingering soreness from their previous antics. Her voice was almost a whine when she spoke. “Please, fuck me, Sir. Please, I need you.”

  “Have I told you how much I appreciate your manners?” He leaned down, setting his teeth against the side of her neck. Her nerves flared to life, remembering just how it felt being marked by him, over and over.

  She tilted her head, submitting silently to his dominance.

  Finn rewarded her with a slow, hard bite. The pressure of his teeth was perfect, finding the delicate balance between pleasure and pain. Exquisite.

  Her legs trembled when he released her, then licked the mark he left behind. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, her breath coming in fast pants.

  “Turn around, Ava, and brace your hands against the door.” Finn stepped back, slipping his fingers free and licking them clean with lips curved as though she was sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.

  “I don’t think I can, Sir.” Her knees felt weak; if she moved, she would fall. They weren’t her shoes and they were considerably taller than she was used to. What was it with women and heels designed to turn their legs into skyscrapers?

  “Are you okay, Ava? What color are you?”

  “Oh, green, Sir, all the way. But I’m a little wobbly and these shoes aren’t helping.” Being unbearably aroused and trying to press her thighs together while balanced on two ridiculously slim props was not on her list of skills.

  “Are they hurting your feet?”

  “No, Sir.”

  “Good, then they stay on.” He set his hands on her hips. “Turn to face the door, little dove. I’ve got you.”

  Yes, he did. She never felt safer than when she was in his hands, even when he pushed her to the edge of her limits. She might not know the true extent of her limitations, of how far he could push her until she cried red, but she knew he was the only one she wanted to take her to that point.

  With tiny steps, guided by the pressure of his fingertips, she managed to totter in a small circle until she faced the door. Her palms were damp when she set them against the wood, her skin humming with anticipation.

  “Keep your hands where they are,” Finn ordered, “and take a couple steps back. That’s it, good girl. I want your ass presented for me, just like this. Spread your feet wider apart. Good girl,” he drawled again when she obeyed, and frissons of pleasure skated along her spine. “These heels do marvelous things to your legs, little dove.”

  There was a slight strain in her calves and thighs. Just enough to make her aware of her position. She could only imagine what she looked like from Finn’s vantage point, but if it made him happy, who was she to complain?

  She heard the metallic jingle of a belt buckle unfastening, the whir of a zipper lowering. She grew wetter, hotter. It had only been a few hours since she’d had the joy of him inside her, but it seemed like forever.

  Foil crinkled. The silence in the room thickened, tension brewing inside her as she waited for a sign, a signal, that the storm was about to break.

  Finn was the thunder and the lightning, a veritable tempest of power and testosterone designed to raze a woman to ruins. Ava dreaded to think of the carnage he could unleash on her at his peak.

  She jerked when his fingers slipped between her thighs again, fondling her slick folds. If she weren’t so precariously balanced, she’d have wiggled her butt at him. Another plea waited impatiently on her lips.

  Movement behind her. Slow, open-mouthed kisses pressed to each buttock before his mouth roamed up her spine, the faintest spike of stubble scraping sensitive skin, until he discovered the ultra-ticklish spot right between her shoulder blades.

  Ava squealed, squirming madly as her nervous system went haywire.

  Finn’s dark laughter only added to the exquisite torment, his hands fanning the sensation of being mercilessly tickled. She erupted into fits of giggles, her fingernails digging into the wood as she struggled to anchor herself with the door.

  Giggles morphed into a carnal groan as seamlessly as his cock breached her slick center. Despite everything h
er pussy had been through the last few hours, there was still the faintest sting of discomfort as she stretched to accommodate him.

  Her head fell forward, her hair tumbling toward the floor in a short waterfall of white. “Oh my God. Finn!”

  For all his impatience, her lover moved carefully. Slow, easy thrusts worked his considerable size inside her. “Tell me when you’re ready, Ava, then hold on tight.”

  There was more than this? This felt like everything. She could stay here with him forever in this moment, connected and so very alive, savoring every languid stroke of his body inside hers. She didn’t have a lot of experience with sex but when she was with Finn, she didn’t feel like she needed any.

  He was her Dom, her lover, her teacher, her rock.

  He surged into her, sheathing himself completely and forcing her up onto her toes. Her internal muscles rippled and spasmed around him in frantic flutters, seeking release. “I want to hear your voice, little dove.”

  “Please,” she whimpered. “Finn, please.”

  One big arm curled around her hips tightly, pinning her against him. His right hand rested beside hers on the door. “Safe word if it gets to be too much. I don’t want to hurt you when you don’t need it.”

  “What if I want it?”

  There was a long, long pause before he spoke, and his tone purred with all the decadent dominance she could ever need. “Well then, my dirty minx, you better speak up.”

  Dirty minx. She hated derogatory names—her father had turned it into a vicious art form—but she loved it when Finn called her that. Maybe because her father had never used that term in particular. Or maybe it was just Finn’s tone when he said it, a combination of stern authority and caring lover rather than abusive asshole.

  Ava ground back against him, making her intentions as clear as she could. “I want it all, Sir,” she said breathlessly, braced for whatever he unleashed. “I want all of you.”

  Finn didn’t hesitate. Her moan of protest as he withdrew died quickly, reborn into a wild cry of abandon. The thick length possessing her pistoned into slick heat, his pelvis hammering against her ass with better accuracy than any machine.

  Harsh wet slapping sounds filled her ears in time with the jolts assaulting her body. Sweat snaked down her spine, her own wetness slicked her thighs. There was nothing tangible to hold onto, nothing to wrap her fingers around and clutch. Her hands bore the force of his thrusts, her nails scoring the wood as she sought purchase.

  He was on a mission to give her exactly what she asked for.

  When her foot slipped out from beneath her, he just hitched her back into position and changed the angle of penetration. Nothing was stopping him from destroying her so perfectly, she’d likely still be calling out his name in the morning.

  The orgasm hit her square in the womb with all the strength of a hurricane, tearing through her with reckless freedom. Pleasure arrowed into every nerve, every cell, turning her rigid with the sheer bliss of release.

  Someone, far away, screamed with delight.

  “Fucking take it, Ava,” Finn growled against her shoulder, his breath ragged.

  There was no stopping the perfect rhythm, the obsessive tempo they’d started. Even as the orgasm began to wane, he was right there fueling the next. Shoving her into its path, dangling her in front of it as it came at her with sharp teeth of pleasure and pain. It ripped into her, shredding her down to the soul.

  Sobbing, she felt her sweaty hands slide down the door. Her arms and legs were trembling, tiring, and she was in no position to keep herself upright. She’d never tested her endurance this way, never had such rigorous and elating sex.

  “Finn, I can’t…I can’t…”

  It seemed like heaven and hell collided. It was the only way she could describe it. Finn’s thrusts grew sharp and shallow. She barely had the chance to catch a single, full breath before he drove deep on a roar, sending her overtaxed body into a third and final spiral of agonizing overindulgence.

  The world splintered, her vision fractured.

  Highly sensitive, her body felt too vulnerable. Like the gentlest touch would set her aflame. Her breath heaved, her throat raw from exuberant cries. Beneath it all was the blessed, brilliant burn.

  Finn extracted himself with the utmost care, sweeping her up into his arms before she gave into exhaustion and collapsed on the floor. She was flying, her mind buzzing on a rush of endorphins so rich and sweet, they turned her blood to syrup.

  Saying yes was the best decision she’d ever made.

  * * *

  Finn

  Finn couldn’t stop watching her, touching her, as she slept. His fingers committed the curves and planes of her face, the softness of her skin, to memory. Her scent was locked into his senses, subtle and fragrant enough to have his cock raring to go yet again.

  As time ticked towards dawn, fatigue tugged at him, begging him to sleep if only for an hour before he had to begin the new day with a flight back to Montana.

  But he couldn’t waste what precious time he’d been given with Ava. He hadn’t lied when he said he wanted a future with her. When he said he could see himself with her twenty years down the line.

  His plans for the rest of the night had been royally screwed before the elevator doors closed behind them. Visions of sharing drinks and conversation on the sofa by the big window in his hotel room before letting her bathe and taking her to bed…well, they’d been pleasant thoughts, he supposed, before they’d shattered with a handful of words.

  “Still trust me?”

  “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t, Sir.”

  Goddamn it, she was fucking perfect for him. He knew it, she knew it, so what was the problem? There was very little in the way of roots here in D.C. holding her back. Rosie, of course, was an important part of Ava’s life and not one he wanted to keep the little submissive away from.

  But the rest of it? Ava was a tiny seedling under a canopy of bigger, thriving flowers. Washington D.C. wasn’t good for her; the city was suffocating her, and she didn’t even realize it.

  How tempting it was to take her back to Montana. Sweep her away to acres of open land and sky. There was nothing he couldn’t—wouldn’t—give her. There was a freedom in his world that couldn’t be found anywhere else—she would flourish away from the constraints of society.

  However, it all came down to one choice, and Finn couldn’t ask her to make it now, not tonight. She’d already been so brave, first at Black Light, then by taking the plunge and leaving with him to come back to his hotel room.

  He could let her go now before the hooks in his heart burrowed any deeper, but he wasn’t sure he’d survive her if she returned to Montana with him and then changed her mind. Oh, he’d let her walk away if that was what she truly needed—hell, he’d make sure his pilot flew her wherever she wanted to go—but Ava was the last risk he was willing to take with his heart.

  He was on the wrong side of forty, after all. Not decrepit by any stretch of the imagination, but if children were ever to be in sight of his horizon, Finn wanted to be young enough, fit enough to be part of their growing up.

  His body was already feeling the effects of too many kicks and near-misses from horses and cattle alike. Years of hard labor would hit him hard in a few years’ time, just as soon as he slowed down from his hectic routine.

  Ava was the first woman in too long to count who made him hope for more.

  Finn rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Usually, he wished to be home, on familiar territory with a choir of nature and lowing cattle as a soundtrack. This morning, he resented the thought of leaving the bed with Ava still in it.

  No matter how much he stalled, the world still continued to spin. The clocks didn’t stop, planes didn’t cease taking off at their designated times, and procrastinating wasn’t going to solve any of his problems.

  Still naked, he slipped from beneath the covers and padded silently to the bathroom, flipping the light switch and leaving the door slightly
ajar so Ava would know she wasn’t alone if she woke in the dark and found him gone.

  He set the water running, then paused. The room had to be cleared by ten a.m. so the cleaning crew could come in and get the room prepared for the next guests. Ava was in dire need of sleep, and she would benefit from a little tending—which galled him, seeing as he should be the one catering to her every whim.

  Rubbing his palm over his face, he backtracked into the room and found his phone in his discarded jacket. Returning to the bathroom, it only took a quick phone call to the reception desk several floors below to ensure the room was booked for another twenty-four hours.

  It was amazing what doors a black credit card could open.

  He stepped beneath the water, his bones groaning under the weight of the heat. Too many hours in the saddle, too many long days of wrestling cattle. Earning a fortune in his line of work had cost him in other ways but he couldn’t regret a single moment of it.

  Not when it led to standing here, in an extravagant hotel most people would never see the inside of, with the woman of his dreams sleeping just feet away. If every choice he’d made resulted in having Ava in his life until his last day on earth, he wouldn’t do a damn thing differently.

  On the counter, his phone trilled.

  He knew what it was without looking at it—his pilot, Arthur, was one of the promptest men of Finn’s acquaintance. The message would be a reminder of Finn’s flight time and when the driver would be waiting outside the hotel to collect him for the journey to the airport.

  Arthur did not like delays and expressed his disapproval without remorse. Finn tolerated his attitude because the man was a fucking magician at keeping Finn on track, handling the nitty-gritty details of his travel schedule.

  On any other day, Finn would simply reschedule his departure and deal with the backlog of paperwork and issues that were no doubt multiplying by the hour at home.