DutyBoundARe (27 page)

“Fuck,” he muttered and stepped away from her.

A little part of her was glad she had this kind of effect on him, because he certainly had her all messed up. It was satisfying to know this was a two-way street.

Metal jangled, but she couldn’t see through her hair what he was doing. The next moment, Mathieu was back. He unlocked the cuffs where they attached to the bench, but left them around her wrist. He grasped the chains in one hand and guided her to stand, steadying her with the other and muttering little encouragements to her.

Her legs had the consistency of rubber, but she was able to stand, leaning heavily on him. Or maybe she did that because she wanted to. At this point it didn’t make much difference.

She laid her head against his shoulder. His heart pounded under her ear and she heard his deep chuckle even louder this way.

“Oh no,
bebelle
, we aren’t finished yet.” He held her at arm’s length, one side of his mouth hitched up and his gaze half-hooded.

Lisette smiled back.

He went to a knee and urged her to step out of her panties that were around her ankles. As he stood, he brought the black silk up and off, leaving her naked. For the breath of a second her nerves rattled, but he’d seen her naked before.

“Come on.” He took the handcuffs once more and led her across the room to the St. Andrew’s cross, with its X-shaped beams and brass rings. He guided her to face the wood and placed her hands over the metal attachments, leaving the handcuffs dangling. “Don’t make me need to use these.”

She knew he meant the handcuffs. It was a dare, and she did like to play games. She kept her hands in place and twisted to watch him over her shoulder, curious about what came next.

Mathieu pulled a big bag she recognized from his closet out from under the bench she’d sat on briefly. He set it on top of the bench and flipped it open. She could tell he’d shuffled the toys around, things had moved, there were some more leather items.

He selected two floggers and slid them out of their nylon sleeves. The bigger, longer flogger she remembered from their very first scene. The second was red and dark brown, shorter with fewer tails.

She bit her lip and rested her forehead on the wood, soaking up the coolness and relying on her other senses. The only sound she could hear was an occasional faint thump from somewhere else in the house, Mathieu’s movements, the clank of the handcuffs and the whoosh of the flogger tails through the air. She could smell the leather, and something spicy. Maybe a fragrance left in the room? The wood warmed under her touch, while the handcuffs remained a bit cold. Her wrists were sore, and no doubt would be for a little while.

Thwack. Thwack.

Lisette yelped and danced in place as first the thuddy flogger followed by the stingy one licked across her shoulders.

“I told you to stay in place this time,” Mathieu said.

“I am,” she got out between panting breaths.

The floggers whistled through the air. She tensed, not knowing where they would land. The first hit her outer right thigh, the next her left. The blows kept coming, from the right and left, but never the same flogger on the side as before. She was thrown off balance by the weight of the thuddy one and jumped at the touch of the stingy one. She danced from foot to foot, holding onto the cross, but unable to remain still.

Smack!

The stingy flogger hit her just below the ribs, in that evil, most ticklish of places. She yelped and spun away, until her back was pressed against the wall and she only gripped the cross with one hand.

She stared, wide-eyed at Mathieu, panting. The way he stared at her, she knew she was in trouble, but couldn’t recall why. What rule had she broken? Subspace muddled her thoughts until all she did was feel, and right now she was aroused, the more potent of emotions rising to the top.

“I told you to stay put.” Mathieu dropped the floggers with a thud onto the carpet.

“Sorry, Sir.”

He crossed the few feet between them and grasped her left wrist, where she was still clinging to the cross. He roughly guided her to take three stumbling steps sideways. She didn’t fall. Wouldn’t. But that didn’t mean he’d let her off the hook.

He raised her left arm and ran the other end of her handcuffs through the brass ring, locking it in place and repeated it with her right hand. He leaned into her just enough for their bodies to brush, for her to feel him from knee to shoulder.

She nuzzled his neck, kissing the hollow at the base of his throat.

Mathieu backed up, his hard gaze sweeping over her. She felt it as if it was a physical caress, arching her back and bending her knee just a bit. Her insides quaked, wondering what came next.

He picked the floggers back up, sliding his hands through loops at the ends. He swung them at the same time, in a figure eight pattern, one following the other around his body. Their gazes remained locked as he came closer. She felt the brush of air against her stomach and squirmed at the impending torture.

The direction of the floggers changed as Mathieu took a knee. They flowed into a horizontal pattern she barely had a moment to marvel at before the tails licked her legs. She shifted, but he kept up the pace, working his way up and down her legs, avoiding the softer portions of her body. She twisted here and there, as much as she could, especially when he used the stingy flogger on her knees, but there was nowhere to go. Her arms were suspended so high there was little to no give in her bonds.

“Spread your legs,” Mathieu ordered.

Words, maybe just sounds poured from her lips, but she wasn’t aware of what she said.

“Spread ‘em.” He smacked her outer thighs again.

She widened her stance until he nodded his approval.

Mathieu let his left arm and flogger come to rest across his knee while he swung the right arm back and under. She recognized the underhanded move for what it was a second too late.

The tails swung up, and though the blow was gentle, it still struck her pussy with enough force to rock her up on her toes and make her vision haze with a powerful burst of color.

She slumped, relying on her handcuffs to keep her upright while she caught her breath. Her head hung forward, her hair acting as a shield. She heard noises, sounds, but there was no energy left in her to pay attention. She was feeling. Sensation. Reduced to her most basic desires, except twining between those was a bright, shining thread of love that burned within her breast.

Mathieu gripped her hips and hoisted her up by sheer weight alone. He pinned her to the cross with his weight and guided her legs around his waist. She gripped the top of the wooden arms and stared down at him, her vision still blurry.

His shirt was gone, and from what she could tell, so were his pants. His lips moved, but the blood rushing past her ears was so loud she couldn’t make out what he said, so she nodded. Whatever he wanted, she would give it to him. There was no holding back with him. Not anymore. She would love him even if it burned her up in the process.

He lifted her and his cock pressed against her entrance. She groaned, arching her back as he let the first few inches ease into her. The muscles were still sore from their last lovemaking, but the sensation of him sliding deep felt so good. He touched every part of her.

For a moment they held still, foreheads pressed together, the connection between them vibrating with sexual energy. She wanted him. Now. In her, owning her, marking her.

She closed the distance, pressing her lips against his and drinking in his essence. He kissed her back with ferocity, forcing her flat against the wood, his fingers digging into her hips. His tongue thrust into her mouth and he nipped her lips. He thrust and a zing of arousal shot through her body.

Lisette moaned into his mouth and moved her hips.

Mathieu muttered something that might have been, “Can’t hold back,” but she couldn’t tell.

He withdrew and thrust hard. Her jaw dropped on a silent scream. There was no time to pull in air as he continued his assault on her body, pounding into her hard. She gripped the wood and tried to move with him, but she was his prisoner, bound to his desire. Each thrust shook the cross, her.

“Look at me,” he growled out.

She opened her eyes, unsure when she’d squeezed them shut. Unlike before, there were no emotional shutters on his gaze and the power of it slammed into her the same moment as his cock, driving her breath out of her as she was wholly possessed by him.

A telltale tingling sensation started in her toes. Lisette groaned and her breathing hitched.

“Not yet,” Mathieu got out between thrusts.

He hoisted her higher, his hips rolling with hers and on each thrust he brushed her clit, ramping up the arousal.

“Not yet.”

He pistoned in and out of her body. The tendons on either side of his neck stuck out in stark relief, his cheeks were drawn in and he manhandled her as if she weighed nothing. She couldn’t take her gaze off of him, which was why she saw the tremor shake him and his gaze widen.

Mathieu groaned and plunged deep.

Lisette could hold back no longer. As his cock kissed her inner depths, she came apart, her climax taking over. She tossed her head back, screaming as her inner muscles clamped down on his thick cock as it stroked her. His motions became jerky, but he continued, pushing onward.

Mathieu roared his release, thrusting once more and freezing as his body trembled around and inside of hers. Electric zings of too-sweet pleasure shot through her body. Every bit of arousal and lust was wrung out of her.

Lisette rested her head against his, panting for breath.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

chapter Eighteen

Falling

Mathieu cradled Lisette against his chest, the comforter swaddling them both. Neither of them had spoken, unless a single word could encompass the meaning of an entire sentence. Like, water. That was straightforward enough.

How had he fallen for her so quickly?

He stroked her hair back, away from her face and kissed the crown of her head. They were still naked, and in need of a cleanup, but too exhausted to do more.

Things had changed between them. The lines were rewritten and he wasn’t sure what was allowed now. Before they were friends, no sex, and he’d screwed that up because he’d been dishonest about what he wanted. Now, he didn’t know what to ask for or where to set the boundaries. If he charged forward, doing as he pleased, he might destroy them both.

Lisette needed to rebuild her life.

Mathieu’s life was in shambles.

She made him want to be more, but not in the way Amanda had. With his ex-wife, he’d needed to be what she wasn’t. With Lisette, he wanted to match her in every way she was. Her strength to go through what had been done to her and come out on this side as she had was inspiring. He hadn’t even been able to survive a break-up with as much integrity.

She shifted, turning a bit.

“Water?” she asked.

He turned to the bedside table, where the last half of a bottle waited just for her. She’d told him she was vocal, and he thought he’d experienced the whole of it in his apartment. Now he knew just how much she’d been holding back. The woman had a set of pipes on her and no qualms about using them. She’d called him names, told him where to stick his cock, laughed and begged him to stop, but he didn’t think she was half aware of it all. No, when she went under like that, the world really did cease to exist.

He held the bottle to her lips and tipped it up so she could sip what she wanted. He took satisfaction in these small acts, giving her water, pulling her hair back. Intimate gestures most would take for granted. He wouldn’t shackle her by telling her how much she meant to him. Lisette needed the freedom to move on with herself, but he could show her if she chose to recognize what he did.

“Need to pee. Don’t want to get up.” Lisette’s eyes closed and she relaxed back onto the pillows.

It was tempting to leave her there, allow her to rest and just watch her drift into sleep. But it was his duty to take care of her.

“Come on.” Mathieu threw the blankets back and tugged her arm. She groaned and flopped sideways into the space he’d just vacated. “Imp. Put something on.”

He tossed his t-shirt at her and made a direct hit. The black fabric spread over her shoulders and face.

“Not funny,” she complained, sitting up and staring at the shirt as if she didn’t know what it was for.

He grinned and pulled on his discarded boxers and jeans. “Put the shirt on and come on.”

“Why?”

“Because there is one bathroom on this floor and I don’t recall giving you permission to walk around naked. Now, come on.”

“Fine.” She pulled the shirt on over her head and stood. It covered all the important parts and was good enough for now.

He took her hand and led her out of their room, into the hall. There was no one else around and the sounds from below weren’t as loud. The party would continue most of the night, but the social crowd had left already. Mathieu pushed the bathroom door open and held it for Lisette. She walked in, blinking and still a bit out of it. He closed the door behind her, not sure she’d remember to do that on her own at this point and waited.

The last door on the hall opened and a chorus of laughter bubbled out of the dim depths. It was a grand suite, at least twice as large as the one he’d procured for the evening, and last time he’d seen the room, it had sported two beds, a hanging hard point and several pieces of pervertible furniture.

Fletcher Perrine stepped over the threshold, his face drawn into a generous smile. Fletcher was one of those normal, well-to-do people no one would ever suspect being into kink. Unless you knew him. Fletcher’s gaze landed on Mathieu, and what he wouldn’t have given for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Mathieu,” Fletcher said. He strode the five or six feet and pulled Mathieu into a tight squeeze. “Fuck me sideways, I didn’t actually expect you to come.”

“I did.” Mathieu struggled to breathe, not because of the hug, but because he’d been unsure of his reception. Once, Fletcher was one of his closest friends, and as a friend should, he’d sat Mathieu down and told him Amanda wasn’t right for him. But Mathieu wouldn’t listen to Fletcher and they’d gone their separate ways.