Take Me Deeper

by Jackie Ashenden

  “Demanding little thing, aren’t you?” A darker, rougher note tinged the words. “But it doesn’t work that way. You have to give me something first.” His finger stroked and smoothed her skin, so achingly far away from the place it needed to be.

  He knows you don’t deserve it either.

  She sucked in a ragged breath, staring fiercely at a spot on the wall. “I think I hate you.”

  “I know.” He sounded amused. “But punishment isn’t supposed to be fun.” There was another silence and she had the feeling he was looking at her, seeing right inside her, to the person that snide little voice belonged to. The one who made her feel so awful. The one she had a horrible suspicion was only whispering the truth.

  “Or…” His stroking finger paused. “I’m starting to think you really want this punishment.” Another pause. “Maybe you think it’s what you deserve.”

  Shock rolled like an icy wave through her and she had to close her eyes tight. How did he know? How the hell could he see?

  Then hard on the heels of the shock, came the shame. Hot and bitter, and she wanted to roll over, burrow under the sheets and the comforter, and hide, never come out again.

  She could deal with the fact her mother had left her, that she wasn’t enough to make her stay. But what she couldn’t deal with was failing in the one thing that made her better than that selfish old bitch: looking after Jamie.

  He was very still resting against her, and she knew she’d given herself away. Dammit. What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she letting him get to her like this? It was only sex and sex never meant anything. Not a single fucking thing.

  But his strong fingers were gripping her chin, turning her face toward him, and she couldn’t avoid those intense blue eyes. They were the only thing she could see.

  “Don’t,” she gasped before he could speak, terrified that the next words out of his mouth would make her reveal another secret, or worse, make her cry like a child. “Please, Zane. Don’t say anything.”

  The look in his eyes became fierce, the color somehow deepening, so compelling she couldn’t have looked away even if she’d wanted to. Holding her gaze, he leaned down and over her, gripping her chin firmly enough that she couldn’t pull away. Then he bent his head and brushed her mouth with his, a light, sensual promise that made her shiver all the way down to her toes.

  “You don’t ever need to be afraid.” The conviction in his voice was a stark contrast to the lightness of the kiss, to the ferocity burning in his eyes. “Your secrets are safe with me. All of them.” He slid the fingers between her thighs down further, a feather-light touch grazing her clit, sending electric jolts of sensation everywhere. “I think you want to tell someone, Iris. So let it be me.”

  There was a painful pressure in the center of her chest, at odds with the sheer delight of his slowly stroking fingers. Because of course he was right. She wanted to tell someone. She wanted to talk about it, be able to share it with someone who would understand and who wouldn’t judge her.

  Mainly because you judge yourself. And you should…

  She ignored the voice, concentrating instead on that fierce, bright gaze. And the words just came out before she could stop them. “D-Dylan was my boyfriend. I worked with him at a bar back in Dallas. He was kind, helped me out with Jamie, fixed things around the trailer, stuff like that.” She stopped, her hips shifting helplessly as Zane’s fingers began to circle her clit in an agonizingly light touch.

  “Keep going,” he murmured, never taking his gaze from her face.

  “He…he…was good to me. And I was…” Jesus, are you really going to tell him you were lonely? So desperate for someone that you fell for him? Believed him when he told you that he loved you? No. God, she couldn’t do that. “We were t-together, anyway.”

  Zane’s stare was laser sharp, cutting through her, his finger circling around and around. “What did he do to you, baby?”

  Her throat tightened and she had to force the words out. “All I wanted was to get out of the trailer park. Buy a house, have somewhere decent for Jamie to grow up in. But everything was so expensive…”

  Zane’s finger slowed, concentrating on a gentle back-and-forth motion that had her nearly gasping. “And what happened?”

  The constriction in her throat got even worse. She didn’t want to talk about this, so why was she? Why the hell was she spilling her guts to him? Yet still his finger moved back and forth, slowly, gently, pleasure spiraling around and around, becoming acute, honed as that glass-sharp stare of his. She wanted to get lost in that pleasure, let it take her away so she didn’t have to think about this anymore. But there was another part of her, the small, lonely part, that wanted to tell him everything, as if that would get rid of the weight of guilt somehow.

  “He told me there was a way to earn some really good money, all I had to do was give this guy some packages.” She hated how fragile her voice was, how pathetic she sounded. How she couldn’t seem to layer over it that veneer of “don’t give a fuck” she’d cultivated. “He wouldn’t tell me what was in those packages, only that I should trust him that he w-wouldn’t make me do anything bad. I believed him. I wanted to believe him. Even when I suspected what was in those packages. And then something went wrong and I was arrested and child services came and they took her. They took Jamie…” She stopped, the words shattering and cracking as her throat drew tight with shame. Jerking her head out of his grip, she turned it on the pillow away from him, curling her body in on herself and shutting her eyes tight.

  She couldn’t look at him anymore. She couldn’t bear his judgment. It was easier to be in the darkness where she was alone, where she was safe.

  But again his strong fingers were there, gripping her chin, turning her, pushing her over and onto her back, the raw heat and power of his body sliding over her, pinning her to the sheet. She kept her eyes shut, shaking at the feel of his hot, bare skin on hers, the weight of him pressing her down.

  There was a long, terrible silence, then he said quietly, “If you want to be punished for that, then I’ll punish you.” There wasn’t a hint of accusation or judgment in his tone, only a kind of deep sympathy that had tears pricking the backs of her eyes. “But when I’ve finished, it’s over. Understand me? No more guilt, no more blaming yourself, and don’t bother denying it, I can see that’s exactly what you’re doing. You take your punishment and then you leave it all behind, okay?”

  A tear leaked out of one eye, sliding down over her cheek, and she didn’t trust herself to speak. He saw too much. He saw everything and she didn’t have a clue how to protect herself from that. But something about the idea of punishment rang true for her so she only nodded, keeping her eyes shut, unable to even look at him.

  Maybe he’d make it hurt and maybe that would be good. Pain to make up for the pain she’d caused her sister. The pain she’d caused all those other people while she’d blithely delivered those drugs. It would be karma, right?

  Yet there was no pain when he finally touched her. Only his hands on her face, stroking carefully, then down her neck to her throat, tracing patterns on her skin. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said as his hands drifted over her. “You’ve gone all tense, which means you’re bracing yourself.” His warm palms cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples with his thumbs. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, baby, but I’m not into pain. And I think you’ve been hurt enough.” Pressure on her nipples as he pinched them, but not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to send an arrow of sensation straight between her thighs, making her gasp. “So this is your punishment. I want you to keep your eyes closed, stay still, and don’t make a sound, no matter what I do. And you’re not allowed to come until I say.” Another pinch, making her shudder like a tree in the path of an oncoming storm. “Nod if you understand.”

  She wanted to deny everything, that she didn’t want to be punished, that she didn’t deserve it. But that, of course, was a lie and she knew it. On some level, deep inside, she knew punishment was
exactly what she deserved and that he was wrong, she did need to be hurt, because how else could she make up for what she’d done?

  Yet she was afraid. She already hurt and it was a splinter lodged in her heart, one that she could never get out, no matter how hard she tried. And disturbing that splinter the way he was doing only made it hurt worse.

  Still, what could she do? He’d handcuffed her to the bed, so she had no choice but to take it. Bizarrely, it was that thought that eased some of the tension inside her, and she gave him the nod he wanted, keeping her eyes still tightly shut.

  “Good girl.” He rolled her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, sending more jolts of electricity through her, another soft gasp escaping her throat. “But stay quiet, remember? Another sound like that and I might have to do something you won’t like.”

  She almost asked him what that might be, but stopped herself at the last minute. And then all questions dissipated like smoke as his hands began to move downward, trailing over the curve of her waist to the swell of her hips. He stroked her gently, softly, tracing her hipbones with his fingers and sweeping his thumbs over her stomach, making all her muscles tense and her breath come in fractured gasps.

  He moved lower, his hands caressing her thighs, slowly easing them apart. Then she jerked, unable to stop the motion, the sound of the handcuffs clinking against the metal as she felt his fingers press firmly on her inner thighs, holding them wide, his thumbs easing over the hot, slick flesh of her pussy, spreading her open.

  She tensed, heat washing over her skin, having to bite down on the desperate groan that threatened to escape. Her thoughts were cloudy in her head, and she couldn’t quite understand why it was so important she obey him, but the fact was, she had to. This was a punishment and she had to take it.

  “Perfect,” he murmured, and she felt him shift on the bed, his hands keeping up the pressure on her thighs. “Stay like that, baby. Don’t move a muscle.”

  Now it was getting to the stage where she didn’t want to disobey. She wanted to do exactly what he said, to please him, hear him say more of those warm, encouraging things to her, tell her what a good girl she was. It was ridiculous how much she wanted to hear that from him, how badly her soul seemed to crave the words, and the fact that this was all in the context of a punishment seemed to make it sweeter. Cathartic even.

  As weird as it was in this context, she had to do this for Jamie. For herself.

  So she shivered and she shook, but she didn’t move a muscle, staying silent and still, fighting not to moan as the warmth of his breath stole over the tender skin of her inner thighs. Then the burn of a kiss there, like an ember, pressed against her flesh. And again, on the other side.

  “Can’t wait to taste you.” His voice was a rough whisper. “But it’s going to get harder for you when I do, because I’m not going to go easy on you, understand?”

  She knew he wasn’t looking for an answer, and besides, that would mean speaking and he’d told her to be quiet, so she didn’t respond, bracing herself for what was coming next instead.

  Heat. A burst of white-hot pleasure. His tongue licking right up the center of her sex, slow and easy, as if he had all day to drive her insane. And her hand pulled against the handcuff, the other curling into a fist on the pillow to stop herself from reaching for him, because he’d told her to keep that there as well. Her breathing made tearing sounds as she fought to stay silent, and all the while that shameless, wicked tongue of his concentrated on her clit, circling and teasing the way he had with his fingers.

  Light exploded behind her eyes and she twisted on the bed, her back arching. More tears were leaking out from under her closed lids and she couldn’t stop them. And then she didn’t care, the pleasure coiling like a giant snake inside her, a hard, tight knot that only got tighter and tighter. She lifted her hips, trying to get some friction, anything to ease the tension, but he simply held her hips firmly down on the bed. “What did I say about keeping still?” His voice was hard with warning, so she forced herself to lie flat, staying as motionless as possible.

  Turned out he wasn’t kidding when he said he wasn’t going to make it easy for her. Keeping her spread wide, he nibbled and sucked at her clit before licking her in that lazy way, like she was an ice cream melting in the sun. And she panted and bit her lip to stop from screaming, tasting blood as everything began to get more and more desperate.

  He spread his hands on her thighs, applying pressure to force her legs wider apart, before covering her pussy completely with his mouth, his tongue pushing into her, deep and slow.

  Pleasure pulled tight to an excruciating point and her mouth opened in a silent scream, shuddering helplessly under his hands as her thoughts cracked under the sheer weight of sensation. And as the pleasure became an agony, she was conscious of only one thing.

  She would take this. She wouldn’t break. She would obey him and take her punishment, make him proud. She would do this.

  She was strong.

  Time lost meaning. She forgot where she was. Forgot who she was with. There was only the feel of his tongue on her and the gentle tease of his fingers on her thighs, and the blaze of agonized pleasure that went on and on, never ending, all consuming. She forgot her own name. She was only this burning thing, existing only for the moment when the whole world would break and she would break along with it. But this time she wasn’t scared. This time she wanted it more than she wanted her next breath.

  “You’re so good, baby,” he whispered against her wet, swollen flesh. “But it’s time to stop now. Come for me, Iris. Scream for me.”

  He flicked his tongue against her painfully hard clit and the world exploded. And she came for him, screamed for him, and fell apart for the third time in twenty-four hours, sobbing and sobbing as the endless wave of pleasure rolled over her, as if her heart had come to pieces inside her chest.

  She’d never cried so hard in all her life, and she found she didn’t care that he could see her like this. That he had the power to break her like this. It just didn’t seem to matter.

  What mattered was the strength of his arms around her, gathering her against him, turning her face into his chest and holding her as she cried.

  Chapter 9

  Zane held her tight, his body aching, his own hunger like a heavy drumbeat in his head. The taste of her lingered in his mouth, and he wanted to push her back down onto the bed and take his own pleasure. But she was sobbing as if her heart were being ripped out of her chest so he didn’t make a move, only held her firmly against him.

  He didn’t speak, there wasn’t anything to say. She blamed herself for how her sister had been taken away and the hurt of that went deep. Hell, he knew how deep hurt like that went himself. It felt like failure and it colored everything you did, every word, every action. And the real shit of it was that no matter how hard you ran or how hard you denied, it caught up to you eventually.

  His chest ached with sympathy for her. For the honest trust she’d placed in that arrogant asshole who’d betrayed her. Whom she’d let into her life because she’d assumed he was trying to help her, and yet who in the end had ended up ripping her life apart.

  Not that it sounded like much of a life to start with, left all alone in a scummy trailer park with a little sister to look after. What had happened to her mother? Her father? Why the fuck had she been left alone?

  The ache in his chest deepened a bit more and he stroked her hair, feeling the soft warmth of her ragged breathing against his skin.

  No wonder she’d been so prickly with him. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to trust. She’d been badly hurt by people she should have been able to trust.

  A murderous rage swirled inside Zane. He wanted to go and find this Dylan guy and teach the asshole a few home truths about loyalty. With his fists. But of course that would be pointless and wouldn’t help Iris any. Only staying here and protecting her was going to do that.

  Well, if he hadn’t been clear on his path before, he certainly was
now. Nothing would stop him from keeping her safe. Nothing.

  Fixing her won’t fix you. Won’t fix what happened with Charlie. And it won’t fix your damn family. You know that, don’t you?

  Zane nearly growled at the thought. Yeah, so this situation was a little like what had happened with Charlie, but only in terms of a woman who needed protection. Charlie hadn’t had a cartel after her and Iris wasn’t his first love. And as for his family…Well, his parents were dead and his brothers were at each other’s throats. Nothing could fix that except maybe a time machine.

  So why be a hero now? What’s the goddamn point?

  He could answer that easy. Because Iris didn’t have anyone else. Because someone had to help her and he’d decided that someone was him.

  Keeping his grip on her, Zane reached for the key to the handcuffs and unlocked them, chafing her wrist to get the blood flowing. She made a soft sound, tucking herself closer to him, burrowing against his chest, the movement sending another lightning strike of sensation to his already-rock-hard cock. Christ, he wanted her. But now wasn’t the time, not with the salty marks of tears staining her cheeks.

  She quieted after a time, lying peacefully against his chest, and he had the odd feeling that he wouldn’t mind lying here with her for the next few hours. They didn’t have to talk or even do anything, it was enough to hold her and have the warmth of her next to him. Strange thing to want, especially when he had other, more important things that needed his attention.

  He stroked her hair idly, liking the feel of it on his skin. “So what happened to your parents? How come you ended up looking after your sister?”

  She sighed. “I never knew my dad. Mom never talked about him. In fact, she never talked about much at all except how much she hated being in a trailer park and having to look after two kids. I mostly took care of Jamie because she was always off drinking in bars or hanging out with her friends. Basically the day I turned eighteen, she told me she was going to L.A. to live with some guy and not to worry, I was old enough to look after Jamie on my own.”