Abruptly, he switched it up. Softening the grip, he ran the spikey wheel over her stomach, and then, nudging the lace aside, across her breast. Kendra moaned. His gaze went to her face. Sweat coated her upper lip and her cheeks were a bright pink.
“Nice, huh?” Thomas said.
“Yes, Sir.”
“More?”
“Please, Sir.”
She straightened her back as much as possible in her position and he pressed the pin to her nipple, drawing another cry of pleasure. Reaching between her legs, Thomas cupped her wet pussy. Kendra whimpered. Teasing her hole, he pushed one of his fingers inside while pressing down with the wheel on her other nipple.
“Sir,” she cried, bucking.
“You’re so wet, little bird.”
“Thanks to you, Sir.”
“Good.”
Thomas inserted another digit and pumped. Leaning forward, he took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked. Kendra jolted, the word yes hissing through her lips. Three fingers and he stroked faster while with his other hand, he grabbed her neck. Kendra’s mouth parted in surprise and he squeezed softly, pressing down.
“Sir,” she panted through his chokehold.
Her body became rigid, her orgasm clenching his hand in an iron grip. Thomas smiled, allowing her to ride the wave. After a moment, he released her and licked his fingers, her taste better than anything he’d ever eaten.
Going around, he undid the bonds on her hands, massaging her wrists, followed by her ankles. She didn’t budge, a dopey smiley on her lips.
“Are you all right, little bird?”
“Yes,” she croaked. She cleared her throat. “That was just incredibly intense.”
Thomas chuckled. “Good,” he said, placing the pinwheel next to the other toys.
“Will you fuck me, now?”
Thomas looked at Kendra. “Excuse me?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kendra swallowed. She could hear the edge in Thomas’s voice. Was she ruining the moment? Should she just wait it out? No. she couldn’t. She didn’t want to. She didn’t know if it was the rush of the endorphins running through her, the fact she was blindfolded still, or simply Thomas’s presence, but an overwhelming feeling to get on her knees had her fumbling to her feet.
“Kendra.”
There was a warning in Thomas’s voice, and she knew he would most likely punish her for this, but she needed to do it. Slowly, holding onto the edge of the chair, she dropped to her knees.
“Kendra,” Thomas said, the concern in his tone palpable. She didn’t care. This was what she wanted, what her whole body was screaming at her to do. She adjusted her posture to where she thought she heard his voice coming from. Placing her hands atop her thighs, she stuck out her chest and chin, defying him to deny her.
“Please, Sir. I’m begging you. I need you.”
“Kendra.” She heard his footsteps approach her, his hand coming down to stroke her hair. An overwhelming sense of peace settled over her and she felt tears prick the back of her eyes. Thomas. It was only him and her, his soothing touch, keeping her safe.
“Little bird, you don’t have to beg. This is—”
“I wanted to do it. Sir. It felt—” She paused. “It felt right,” she finished.
“Don’t open your eyes.” Thomas removed the blindfold, the air cooling her damp forehead.
“Slowly open them,” he commanded. “The lights are still dim so it shouldn’t hurt your vision.”
Kendra blinked. When she focused her sight, she found Thomas kneeling in front of her. Her heart tripled its rate as their gazes locked. She was lost within him. The pools of blue a window into his soul and his love for her. How could she reciprocate something so powerful? So intense?
“Sir.” Her bottom lip trembled, words escaping her.
Thomas cupped her cheek. “I love you,” he said.
A tear slithered down her cheek, her throat clogging with emotion. Thomas didn’t give her a chance, he crushed her into his arms, kissing her. They tumbled onto the floor, legs and arms entwining. She frantically touched him, searching for the hem of his jeans and his cock. He shimmied out of his pants, his erection finally springing free, but he didn’t give her a chance to admire it. Spreading her legs open, he sank into her, stealing her breath as her body accommodated to his invasion.
“So good, Sir,” she mewled, arching her back and grasping his shoulders.
“Yeah,” he groaned. “I knew this would be paradise, but I hadn’t expected it to feel like this.” He pulled back and thrust inside again. Kendra hooked her legs around his, lifting her hips to meet him.
“Damn,” he growled.
Their mouths locked in a kiss full of desperation and yearning. Thomas pumped faster. Kendra rocked her hips. Her orgasm built like a glass of water almost at the brim. Thomas encircled her throat again. Her eyes widened. His gaze pierced into hers and his hold tightened. Her pulse raced, adrenaline spiking. A pitiful moan tore through her. His hips pistoned in and out. The sounds of their bodies slapping against each other and her racing heartbeat rushed in her ears. Black spots danced behind her eyes. He thrust hard and suddenly released.
Kendra screamed out in pleasure, her whole body convulsing as her orgasm consumed her in flame and oxygen burst through her system once more.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kendra woke up by the call of her bladder. She slid out of Thomas’s arms and scurried to the toilet. After relieving herself, she glimpsed at herself in the mirror. No makeup and yet her face still glowed with some form of inner light. She shut her lids. She’d kneeled. After, God, how long had it been? More than a decade for sure, she’d gone, and kneeled. Flashes of their lovemaking from a few hours earlier appeared in her mind. Heat crept up her body. She needed to get out of here. Quietly, she returned to the bedroom. Thomas hadn’t stirred. Throwing on one of Thomas’s shirts and a pair of undies, she tiptoed outside. She trembled as her bare feet hit the wooden slats of his porch and she hugged herself.
“I kneeled.”
Joy mingled with fear. Would she be able to do it again? Would she want to? The memories of the past echoed in her mind. Antonio.
She’d lost control with Thomas in a way she hadn’t done so in years. Giving herself fully to the experience. It was insanity. You couldn’t trust someone in such a short time, could you?
I love you.
And you couldn’t love someone in such a short time, either. Love. Love. Love. It was madness. He was a fan and she was … realization hit her in the gut, making her stomach clench and a shiver run through her. She was in love. Kendra Williams in love. How had it even happened? One thing was for sure, it hadn’t been the sex. They hadn’t had sex until today. No. it’d been everything else. His tenderness. His awareness. His playfulness. His kindness. He’d brought her out from underneath the mask she’d been wearing for years. She was complete again, little pieces of her soul glued back together into something different. Something stronger.
“Kendra?”
She jumped at the sound of her name coming from Thomas’s lips. The door creaked shut. “What are you doing out here in a shirt and barefoot?” He placed a blanket over her shoulders and stood at her side. “What’s wrong? Speak to me, little bird.”
“I kneeled,” she said.
He nodded. “Yes.”
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it again.” She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the tremble in her tone.
“I understand,” Thomas said.
“You do?” She turned to face him, expecting to see disappointment but finding instead the same heart-wrenching intensity she’d glimpsed earlier. Thomas grasped the edges of the blanket and dragged her closer. “Little bird, did I ask you to kneel last night?”
She shook her head.
“Say it out loud, Kendra,” he demanded.
“No, Sir.”
“No.” Thomas nodded. “I didn’t. It’s your limit. I respect it. I was going to wait until you w
ere prepared, but you threw yourself at my feet. I won’t be asking you to do it again until you’re ready. I won’t force you to do what you don’t want. It’s not my role as a Dom to force you to do anything. That’s where Antonio fucked up. He wasn’t a Dom, he was a narcissist asshole who got off on abusing women. I’m not like that nor would I ever want to be. Bird, I want you to fly. I want you to be free of the chains which hold you grounded. It’s why I’ve been taking things slow. It’s why I’m taking care of you. You’re a free bird but I selfishly want to keep you here with me.”
“Forever.” It wasn’t a question and Thomas noticed because he cocked his head. “It’s what you said a few days after we met,” she stated.
Thomas’s lips curled into a smile. “Forever. Yes.”
“It’s crazy and yet…” Kendra bit her lip. She leaned into him, touching her forehead to his chest. She could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, reassuring in a way nothing else in her life had ever been.
“It’s insane but I want forever,” she said.
Thomas threaded his fingers in her hair, pulling her head back. “Say that again,” he demanded.
“I don’t know how it’s happened, but somehow you’ve made things right again, Thomas. The darkness I’ve carried with me for years is gone, and all I can manage to see is the light coming from you which beckons me to follow,” she said, her words coming out in a rush.
Thomas grinned. “I thought I was the poet.”
“I guess all good things stick.”
Thomas touched his lips to hers lightly. “I have spent years admiring you from afar, Kendra Williams, and from the moment I met you, I intended to break you out of your glass prison and keep you.”
“You succeeded,” she said. Throwing her arms around his neck, she whispered the words she had fearfully kept locked up for years, the ones which had kept her prisoner, unable to kneel, incapable of moving forward and trapped in the dark. “I love you.”
Thomas wrapped his arms around her in a bear hug that stole her breath.
“I love you, little bird,” he said gruffly. Tilting her head toward him, he kissed her softly. She moaned. Every ounce of lust and love poured into the moment and obliterated the darkness of the past.
The End
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BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER
BREAK ME
Elyzabeth M. VaLey
Copyright © 2017
Prologue
Grisha Vasiliev entered the ballet studio. His five-hundred-dollar leather shoes squeaked against the vinyl floor. He frowned and stood to one side, away from the other spectators, leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. The velvety smoothness of the piano chords playing from the speakers wrapped around him like the touch of a lover’s caress.
“Down, up, down, plie, tendu, pli-plie.”
Anton Phillip, the ballet master of his company, drilled instructions from the front of the room across a floor-to-ceiling mirror. A group of close to forty dancers aged fifteen and over followed his commands. They were there to learn and take their technique to the next level with the best: Anika Vasiliev’s ballet company.
His business. Grisha not only owned the city’s ballet company, which included dancers, an orchestra, managerial and support staff. He also had schools for both children and adults. Furthermore, he employed permanent staff of craftsmen for prop and costume design, as well as his own physiotherapists and physical trainers.
“Your back must turn you around, not your knee, your back. Observe,” Phillip called out.
Grisha swept his gaze around the room. His breath caught. There she was. In the front row, a few feet to the left of Phillip. She was unmistakable in her red leotard with the low scooped back and black skirt.
Ayla Clark.
She was his reason for coming to today’s master class. He’d seen her name in the registry list and he knew he had to see her up close.
Her pale skin contrasted sharply with her choice of outfit. Her dark hair, which she had pulled into a bun, caused her aquiline nose to stand out. She kept her attention on Phillip as he demonstrated the movement. She copied him.
“That’s it,” Phillip praised her.
Ayla smiled. Full lips pressed tightly together, eyes downcast. Grisha cocked his head. Always the same. He had been observing her for the past few months and her smiles were never wide or open. For him, it appeared as if she were pleased but didn’t want to show it. Either that or she felt she wasn’t good enough.
Yet, her technique was flawless. Her body lithe and flexible. When she danced, her spirit showed through and true joy reflected on her face. Those were the moments he hated her.
Grisha swallowed. His fingers trembled. He closed his hand into a fist. Easy now. It wouldn’t do to lose control here. Taking a deep breath, he turned to look at some of the other girls. There were some wonderful dancers assembled in the studio and some which would never make it far in the business. He caught sight of another girl. She turned well but didn’t land properly. Her eyes narrowed, clearly displeased. She tried again. Grisha shook his head. She was a good dancer, but she was not the best. Her movements lacked finesse.
He found himself searching for Ayla again. He followed her across the floor as she performed a chasse and a pirouette.
How could she move with such precision? In her, he saw true love for what she did. She wanted to be a dancer. It was her dream, her purpose in life.
Yet, she currently worked for a small ballet company as part of the corps, a mere background dancer. She never held a position for more than a year, even though she was good. Why? He wasn’t a dancer himself, but he had grown up in that world. He knew perfection and passion when he saw it. Ayla had both. When she danced, he could almost taste the happiness coming from her. Grisha licked his lips.
It was intoxicating.
Sickening.
Bile climbed to his throat. The bitter taste in his mouth made him grimace. Happiness. The word clanged in his head like loud church bells. A myth. A legend. There was no such thing. Women like his mother Anika, Marie, and now Ayla, equated the world of dance with bliss. It was an illusion, just like ballet. They were one and the same. Castles built on clouds. Beautiful on the outside but so sensitive a mere breeze would blow them into nothingness. The real world was bleak.
Dark.
Lonely.
Painful.
Grisha ran his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to alleviate the growing headache in his temples. The words hammered in his skull harder and harder as they had done for the past year.
He had grown complacent, settling into a routine which lulled him into a false sense of security. In the last four years, he hadn’t felt the pull. He buried himself in his business and into a peaceful life. He tricked himself into believing he’d conquered the need to inflict pain and destroy joy. It was never the case. The monster within him lay dormant, waiting for someone to bring it back to life. Ayla had been that person. One look at her and his world had come crashing down around him.
Grisha bit into his cheek and tasted blood. His vision wavered for an instant as the image of a bloodied Ayla danced before him. She reminded him of what he’d lost and what he could never have.
He unclenched his fists.
Ayla pranced about, oblivious to him and his plan. Soon, he’d show her what life was really about. The music which made her so joyful would make her miserable, and his world would be righted again.
“Thank you very much, everyone,” Phillip said, breaking into Grisha’s reverie.
People clapped. Grisha joined them politely. The music had stopped. Dancers stretched out their kinks. Family members and observers crossed the floor to chat and congratulate them.
Grisha made his way to Phillip. Here and there chatting groups quieted as he passed them. He smirked. Although he hated the attention, it w
as all part of the business. If any of these ballerinas wanted to be someone important one day, they had to know who he was.
“Anton,” he called out. He’d known Phillip for many years, long before coming to the United States.
“Mr. Vasiliev,” the teacher said respectfully. “What a pleasure to see you. Thank you for coming.” Phillip strode toward him, grinning. They shook hands.
“The pleasure is mine. Wonderful class.”
“Indeed. We had some great dancers today. I am keen on inviting some to audition for us in the future or to consider joining our school,” Phillip said.
“I trust your instinct, Phillip.”
“Thank you, sir. Although”—Phillip lowered his voice—“I value your opinion.”
Grisha clasped his hands behind his back and looked around. His gaze landed on Ayla. She sat on the floor, legs wide open, torso bent forward. A thin strand of hair had fallen loose from her bun and curled over her cheek. His mouth went dry.
“She’s exceptionally good,” Phillip whispered.
“But unstable. She never stays in a company for more than a year. You know we value commitment.”
Phillip nodded.
“True, but—”
“She’s also too old.” Grisha cut him off. “I think her registration file stated she was twenty-seven.”
“Very well, Grisha. I won’t speak to her, but do you want me to introduce you?” Phillip sneered.
Grisha’s eyes widened. He forced his gaping mouth shut.
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