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Page 12

by Delta James


  Roark swatted her again along the top and sides of her bottom, making her cry out, wailing in both rapture and distress as she came not only from the driving force of his cock, but from the harsh strikes of his hand.

  “Rule five… are we up to five? Doesn’t matter. The next rule is you never withhold your responses, be it when I fuck you or you crying when you’re being spanked or welted. Your responses belong to Daddy, and you will not try to keep them from me. Try it again, ever, and I will make you regret the day you created me.” He punctuated each word with a hard surge forward or a stinging blow to her backside. Sage came repeatedly, shuddering in his arms again and again as he took what they both knew to be his.

  “One more time, kitten,” he crooned in her ear. “Come for Daddy and milk his cock dry.”

  He redoubled his efforts, riding her with a surety bordering on arrogance. She was certain she had nothing left to give him, but knew he would have what he wanted. The fact he could so completely undo her the first time they were together was frightening. Roark demanded her response as easily as her obedience. Nothing she’d ever experienced—either in real life or in prose—had prepared her for the sexual dominance he inflicted on her.

  Sage’s wails became moans, then morphed into whimpers when the next orgasm bore down on her. Thankfully, she felt his impending release. She cried out one last time and collapsed in his arms as he spurted what felt like great ropes of cum into her wrecked sheath, bathing it with his creamy essence as though it could soothe the fire raging within her. With a last brutal thrust, Roark forced her over the edge into a void where time and space no longer existed—only this man and being used by him. Her pussy clamped down, contracting all along his length, milking every last gush of his semen and pulling it deep inside her. His release seemed endless, and Sage could do nothing but endure as he held her in place.

  When at last it was over, Roark swung her up in his arms and carried her back to the bed, drawing back the covers and laying her down on the side furthest from the door.

  “I’d like to freshen up,” she said quietly as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots and socks. Then she registered the fact that while she had been naked, Roark had been fully clothed with only his fly open, so his cock was free to fuck her.

  “Why? You won’t stay that way for long. I’ve waited a long time for you, Sage. I don’t believe there’s a way for me to be pulled back, but I’m not taking any chances. For however long I’m here, I mean to make the most of it and of you. If I’m still here in the morning, we’ll try to figure out who tried to have you killed. If I’m not, you call Holmes at Scotland Yard and do exactly what he tells you.”

  “I’m not sure my need to fuck you is enough to keep me free from the pages of your books,” he continued, “but I suspect keeping you alive is. In any event, I won’t go back without one hell of a fight, but if I get sucked back in, and you disobey me or put yourself in danger, I’ll find my way back to the physical world, and the first thing I’ll do is welt your ass then fuck it. Trust me, little girl, you don’t want your first ass fucking from Daddy to be when he’s pissed and looking to teach you a lesson.”

  “So, you are Roark?” she whispered.

  “Who the bloody hell else would I be?” he answered, mildly annoyed and standing up to finish undressing.

  He crossed over to the bed, unashamedly naked. She rolled to the opposite side of the bed, watching him and wincing as her bottom briefly made contact with the mattress. Why the hell should he be? She’d described him more than once as a sexy beast, and he was. He unfastened his vintage Rolex, placing it on the dresser with his wallet before returning and placing his gun on the nightstand furthest from the window.

  “Shove over, Sage. You know I always sleep closest to the door.”

  Sage scooched over, careful to avoid her butt making contact with the bed again, then didn’t move. She had to be dreaming, or whoever tried to kill her had given her the worst—or best—acid trip ever.

  Like he always did in her books, Roark rolled her away from him, chuckling when she gasped from the brief contact of ass to mattress. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back to snuggle against him, his cock nestled in the cleft of her buttocks, his hand resting possessively on her mons. She tried squirming away to get a little distance between them, but he just pinched her clit and kept applying pressure until she wriggled back where he wanted her.

  “You stay where Daddy puts you, little girl. Next time, you’ll earn yourself more than just a pinch.”

  All that had happened in the past twelve hours or so came crashing down on her, and Sage quietly started crying. In a move she’d never written for him, he stroked her gently and kissed her neck, nuzzling her nape under her hair.

  “It’s all right, Pet. No one will ever harm you again. That’s not to say you won’t get spanked or that I won’t cause you a bit of pain when warranted, but you’re safe with Daddy. Your safe word is ‘hero.’”

  “You might have mentioned that before now.”

  “Why? Would you have used it?”

  “No…”

  Was she safe with him? What if she wasn’t? Or what if she was, but Daddy disappeared into the pages of her book, never to return?

  Chapter 8

  He gave Sage little sleep—he couldn’t seem to help himself. He slept restlessly, and every time he woke, he reached for her, finding his libido every bit as strong, if not stronger, than she had portrayed in her books. More than once, he pulled her to him, bringing her under him to mount and use with long, hard strokes. He knew she had to be sore, but found he didn’t care. He needed her, and she needed him. He needed to bind her to him in every way he could. Even after he’d exhausted her, she never failed to provide him with the response he wanted. Sage seemed surprised at the depth of her carnal nature and her ability to experience multiple orgasms. Each time he rode her, she responded quicker and more intensely, allowing him to revel in her ability to provide him with such pleasure.

  He woke, his cock poking at her backside. Never had she written a woman who could compare to her—quick to respond, wildly passionate, and infinitely satisfying. Each time he felt her sheath contract around his shaft, it was as if it had always been this way. Memories of the others she had forced him to endure faded away with each encounter.

  Rolling her onto her belly, he knelt behind her and grasped her hips, pulling her up into position—ass up, upper torso and head down. He grinned when he reached between her legs to stroke her silky slit. He had yet to not find her wet and waiting. He guided his staff to the entrance of her core, pushing forward before she was fully awake. She groaned as a small orgasm rippled through her body. He stroked her hard and fast until she came screaming into the pillow as he thrust home and spent his seed deep inside her. Releasing her, he tipped her back over onto her side, settling back into his normal place, and pulled her close. He smiled when she didn’t try to wriggle away.

  “Tell me something… why is it in the books, you always have your women on top, sliding up and down your cock while you play with their tits and clit, but you have yet to fuck me face-to-face?”

  He barked a laugh, idly fondling her nipples.

  “Naughty little girls only get fucked on their back as a treat when they’ve been very good, but are never allowed on top. You, my pet, will almost always be fucked in very submissive positions to remind you Daddy is the one in charge, not you. To that end, and to get a handle on your behavior, I’ve decided to put you on maintenance spankings twice a week.”

  “Twice a week?” she squeaked. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Fair is whatever I define it to be. We’ll start with twice a week and see how it goes. You behave yourself, and I may adjust it down. You decide to challenge my authority and misbehave, I’ll increase it to three times a week or more. You will not be allowed to continue down this self-destructive path you seem determined to travel. You’re going to follow the rules I determine, and when you
don’t, you will be punished.”

  He slipped his hand between them and gently massaged her dark rosebud. She tried to shift away from his invasive finger, but he pinched her nipple until she submitted and didn’t try to evade his touch.

  “In case you missed it, pet, the power dynamic between us has shifted. You are no longer in control of anything. You belong to me… all of you. You exist to please me in the same way I exist to pleasure and keep you safe. That means your body belongs to me—all of it. You don’t abuse it. You’re going to start eating right…”

  “I eat fine,” she said with a pout she didn’t know she was capable of.

  “Chips and caramel corn are not proper nutrition. And here’s a big one, you do not seek to pleasure yourself unless I tell you to. I tossed the vibrator you brought here into the rubbish last night. Daddy will see to all your sexual needs.”

  “You expect me to agree with this?”

  “Did I ask for your agreement?” He chuckled. “Be a good girl and tell Daddy you’re going to follow the rules. Tell me that when you don’t, you expect Daddy to discipline you in whatever way he deems best.”

  Sage said nothing. He’d enveloped her in a sensual haze, combining soft caresses with his silky voice. She melted back into his body, answering his call and agreeing to everything, but he needed her to say it. The fingers that rolled and gently squeezed her nipples pinched them hard until her body stiffened and she yelped.

  “Did you hear me, Pet? Daddy needs to know you understand.”

  “I do,” she said, sighing with a combination of arousal and resignation, and snuggled back into his body, instinctively seeking his strength and comfort.

  “Then you say it. Tell me you know you belong to Daddy, that you understand and expect when you’re naughty that I will curb your errant behavior. Tell me you’re going to be a good girl and try to follow the rules.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” she said, trying out the honorarium for the first time.

  “All of it, Sage.”

  Taking a deep breath, she said, “I belong to Daddy. If you decide I’ve been bad…”

  “You are never bad, Pet. You just misbehave sometimes. Try again.”

  “I belong to Daddy.” Why was there so much comfort and joy in saying those four little words? “I will try to follow Daddy’s rules. If I don’t or misbehave, Daddy will punish me.”

  “That’s my good girl,” he murmured seductively. Rubbing her backside lightly, he chuckled when she winced from the lightest contact. “You have a beautifully responsive bottom, Sage. It colors easily and well and has the most delightful give and bounce when my hand lands.”

  “I’m so glad you enjoy it,” she said with a touch of snark.

  “Careful, Sage. Start sassing me and I’ll drag you out of this bed, wash your mouth out with soap, then spank you until you’re crying and begging me to stop. For the record, if you earn yourself a discipline spanking when you’re already scheduled for maintenance, you’ll receive the discipline spanking, and maintenance will be moved to the next day.”

  “How did you learn all this? I didn’t write you like this.”

  “But you wanted to,” he whispered. “You created me for yourself. You never told anyone what you wanted and instinctively knew you needed, but I knew. Go to sleep, Sage.”

  He felt her sag against him as sleep claimed her. Once she rested peacefully, he kissed her cheek and sat up on the edge of the bed. Sage fidgeted; he leaned over to kiss her again and stroked her body until she settled.

  Who tried to kill her… and why? Did any of the incidents in North Carolina have anything to do with this latest attempt on her life? Were they part and parcel of the same thing?

  Roark got up and pulled on his jeans, then grabbed her laptop and stretched back out on the bed. He worked his way through, looking for information on the net while not being a part of it. He idly wondered if he could move back and forth between the two existences, but was unwilling to try, fearing if he succeeded in returning to the ether of her laptop, he might never escape it again. Sage needed him here in the physical world. She needed him to protect her from this clear-and-present danger, as well as from herself.

  Running his hand down her body and rubbing her still slightly colored backside, he smiled at her preening under his attention.

  “Don’t worry, Sage. Daddy’s here, and he’s going to take good care of you.”

  He watched the news and learned the body of the man who tried to kill Sage had been found and identified as a killer for hire. So, no motive for the man himself, but somebody hired him. Sage didn’t seem to know anything, and nothing he knew led him to believe she’d done anything that would warrant notice from any criminal element, much less something of the magnitude they’d want her dead. No one knew her better than he did, including Sage herself. She wrote erotic romance books, for God’s sake, not in-depth investigative journalism pieces, exposing the wrongdoings of someone in power.

  Roark pulled up her financial documents and began combing them. At first glance, they appeared to be in order, but something kept tickling his brain—something was off, something didn’t seem quite right. He ordered room service and leaned over to nuzzle and kiss her awake.

  She opened her eyes and seemed confused at first.

  “Roark?”

  “Yes, Pet, Daddy’s here. I’ve ordered breakfast. Why don’t you go hop in the shower?”

  “The hotel knows you’re here?”

  “It’s where I live. I had the butler bring up the ice last night.”

  “You… you don’t really exist,” she whispered.

  He patted her backside, smiling when she winced. “Your bottom seems to think I exist, and I am rather sure your pussy is well aware of it as well. Maybe I should reinsert the butt plug, so you have a constant reminder that I’m here and now in the physical world.”

  “No, that won’t be necessary. Did they seemed surprised at all that you were calling?”

  “Not at all. As far as anyone can tell, you, Felix, Holmes, and I are the only ones who are aware that until recently, the three of us only existed in the pages of your books.”

  She nodded. “The weird thing is that the names in the books have all been changed, and all of you are sentient… and solid. I mean, it’s not like you’re an apparition I can put my hands through.”

  “And aren’t you glad Daddy’s cock is nice and solid,” he teased, kissing her when she smiled. “In some ways, it feels a bit odd, but in others, it feels as if I’ve always been here. I don’t want you to worry about that. I will ensure that you are safe, which leads me to another rule.”

  “Pfft… you and your ru—”

  Her statement was cut off when he flipped her on her belly and his hand connected with her backside in a hard swat.

  “My rules, little girl, are to be followed. Deviation from the rules gets you spanked or more. Now, as I was saying before you interrupted me… Until further notice, you do not leave this room or open the door without my permission. Understood?”

  Sage nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Another harsh smack.

  “You answer with words when I ask you a question. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” she said sullenly.

  Thwack!

  “Yes, what?” he barked. “Watch the attitude, little girl. If you need a spanking in order to behave, you let me know. Do you?” He hid his grin when she backed off.

  “No, Daddy, I don’t need a spanking, and yes, Daddy, I understand.”

  “Better,” he said, idly petting her bottom. “Aren’t you supposed to be taking a shower?”

  “I don’t remember you being so bossy.”

  “And I don’t remember you being so sassy. When you get showered, we’ll have breakfast and lay out the rest of the day.”

  Sage stood under the shower, letting the hot, steamy water pelt down on her. The shower in Roark’s suite was nothing like the one she’d had previously. For one thing, it was larger and had all
the high-tech, pulsating jets anyone could ever want. She didn’t know the Savoy offered this kind of bathroom, but she’d written it into a book.

  A book? How the hell could this be happening? Was this all some crazy dream? Had she died? If so, was this heaven or hell? Maybe she was just in a coma and would wake—but what if she didn’t want to?

  Regardless, it seemed she had no choice but to keep moving forward. Stepping out of the shower, she was drying herself when she heard the sound of breakfast being delivered. She donned what she assumed was Roark’s cashmere robe—it, too, was exactly as she described in the books and hadn’t been in the bath the day before. She wandered back into the living room suite.

  “Thank you, Mr. Samuels,” said the waiter. “Is there anything you and Ms. Matthews need? Shall I have them bring up additional towels?”

  Sage watched Roark peel off several large denomination bills.

  “That would be very thoughtful. If you could also ask them to replace at least half of my pet’s Diet Coke with water, that would be beneficial. She’s apparently forgotten she isn’t allowed to drink as many of those as she has been of late.”

  “Is there anything else I can bring to make Ms. Matthews more comfortable?”

  “Uhm, I’m right here. You might ask me if I need anything,” Sage said testily.

  Roark turned and scowled. It was all she could do not to shrink back, but she could feel her butt clenching.

  “Sage, apologize. The staff is trying to see to your comfort and do not deserve the sharp side of your writer’s tongue.”

  He stared her down until she dropped her eyes and mumbled, “I apologize. Roark is right. Thank you for your consideration.”

 

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