Going Deep (18 page)

He rode her
hard, but in her darkness, there was peace knowing she could give him what he
needed.

“Ahh, angel. I.
Can’t….”

His cock grew
impossibly harder inside her. She willed her body to soften, to become a pillow
to catch him when he fell. He stilled.

“Christ
almighty!” His hips ground against her in short, forceful thrusts. Then he was
coming, claiming her.

She sighed,
savoring his release, knowing in her heart it represented a bond that couldn’t
be broken.

He loosened his
hold on her hair, wrapping himself around her again from shoulder to their
joining. He placed a single kiss on her lips. A benediction. An affirmation. A
single kiss that said he understood the significance of the moment.

Christ. He
couldn’t move. Didn’t want to move. His heart pounded against his ribcage—a
sure test of its strength. If the repair he’d undergone when he was nine was
going to fail, it would have tonight. He made an effort to move. She was soft
beneath him, so perfect in her submission. He’d let his libido run wild, taking
what he wanted from her long before he’d planned. But there’d been something
about the way she’d cuddled against him when he’d laid down beside her that
called to him to stake his claim now. To demand her complete submission. No. To
take
her complete submission.

 He’d given her
little choice in the matter, breaching her defenses while she slept. He’d been
wrong to do it that way, but he couldn’t regret it now. He would have withdrawn
had she asked, when she’d become fully aware of what he’d done, but she hadn’t.
He’d never felt anything like it—he way her body had yielded to his, offering
him complete dominion. It’s what he’d dreamed of since his first erection—owning
a woman’s body. Christ, he’d yearned to give her pleasure, to see her lose
control under his tutelage. To have a woman trust him so completely was
humbling.

He tipped her
face to his, wishing he could offer her the same level of trust she’d given him
and remove the blindfold, but he couldn’t do it. Not yet.

“Angel?”

“Yes, Sir?”
Barely a whisper.

“Are you okay?”

“Mm-hmm,” she
purred.

“I didn’t hurt
you?”

“No. Never,” she
sighed.

Jason allowed
himself to relax. He arched, watching his cock slide from her. Good God, he
couldn’t believe what a lucky bastard he was to have found this woman. She
whimpered and clenched her cheeks together.

 “Shh. Let me
take care of you.” He rolled her to her back and lay beside her.

“Hold me,” she
whispered, nuzzling her cheek against his chest.

He wrapped her
in his arms and held her until she drifted off to sleep again. Then he held her
some more.

His brother was
right, damn it. He’d gone and fallen in love with her. It was such a foreign
feeling; he hadn’t recognized it right away. He’d loved women before, but he’d
never been
in
love. His love for Carrie filled his heart, and felt so
right he almost couldn’t remember what it felt like not to love her. He didn’t really
know anything about her, but he knew she was his. Cradled against his body, she
was a perfect fit. He had to find a way to tell her who he was. Todd and Brooke
said he could trust her, that she wasn’t the kind to shout his personal
business to the world.

Damn, he hoped
that was true because he couldn’t imagine his life without her, and he damned
sure couldn’t keep her blindfolded for the rest of their lives. He slipped a
finger beneath the elastic band securing the eye mask, toying with it. All he
had to do was remove it while she slept, and when she woke he would be looking
into those incredible blue eyes of hers.

He made sure the
elastic band was once again in place, and scooted away, extricating himself
from their embrace. With a fresh condom in place, he returned, settling himself
between her thighs. Pushing her wide, he swiped his tongue along her slit,
sucking her clit between his teeth.

Carrie woke with
a jolt to total darkness and someone—her Master—between her legs.

 “Sir,” she
moaned, lifting her hips to meet his playful tongue. A strong hand on her
stomach pressed her back down.

“Be still.” His
tone conveyed the unspoken words “or else”.

She raised her
hands over her head to grip the edge of the mattress. It was torture to endure
without responding. His tongue swirled and dipped, laved and lapped and drove
her out of her mind. Firm hands held her thighs wide, exposing her completely.
Desire, dormant following their earlier session sprang to life, rising like the
tide at full moon, fast and high.

“So beautiful,”
he breathed against her moist folds. His tongue swooped low to tease her
backdoor. She bit her lower lip to keep from protesting his actions.

“Are you sore
there?” he asked.

“A-a little, Sir.

He massaged her
gently, coating her with her own juices. “Relax, angel. No more there tonight.
You were very brave. I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have claimed
this part of you.”

She willed her
body to relax and accept his touch.

“Nice, angel.
Tell me how you felt having me inside you here.” His finger pressed softly
against the rosebud.

“I
felt…weak…defenseless. Safe. It’s hard to explain, Sir. I was scared at first,
but then….” He fingered her again, and she lost her train of thought. “I can’t
think when you do that, Sir.”

He chuckled and
flicked his tongue over her clit while he toyed with her backdoor.

“Go on. What
were you going to say?”

“I, um…I
felt…conquered, possessed. I knew it before, Sir, but somehow, giving that part
of me made me yours. Completely. I lo—”

He covered her
with his mouth, stopping her declaration before she could utter it. This time,
she couldn’t control her hips, and he didn’t ask her to. She met his kisses,
offering her body to replace the words he’d stolen from her.

Her orgasm came
fast. He drank it in, taking all she offered, demanding more with well-placed
kisses until the last tremors left her sated and soft. Only then did he move
over her. He pinned her wrists above her head and rode her hard, claiming every
inch of her body. Her surrender was complete and absolute. After a few thrusts,
she wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to go even deeper.

He couldn’t get
enough. Couldn’t possess her enough to sate his need. Her lovely body was
flushed with color. Perspiration aided the slip and slap of flesh battering
flesh. Each thrust wrenched soft moans from her lips and drove him past the
point of reason. She. Was. His. Always. Forever.

“Master.” The
word was both affirmation and plea.

“Come,” he said,
answering the unspoken request.

Her uninhibited
response propelled him over the edge.

 
Sweet Jesus
.
Liquid fire shot through his veins, sparked an inferno in his groin, sending a
flash flame from his balls to his dick. He ground against her, the primal urge
to mate, to give her his seed, blinded him to everything but his physical need.
No other woman had ever robbed him so completely of his ability to think, to
have a care for his partner. Nothing short of a knife to his balls would stop
him from possessing this woman.

A monosyllabic
mantra punctuated each grinding, blinding thrust.
Mine. Mine. Mine.

He collapsed,
his face buried in the crook of her neck. Her scent filled his nostrils, and he
fought to bring his major body systems back to a sustainable rhythm. Her legs
fell to the mattress, bracketing him in her soft warmth. He lifted his head.
Her cheeks glowed. Her ruby lips were parted, her breast rising and falling
beneath him with each breath.

“Mine,” he said.

“Yours.”

He lowered his
lips to hers, sealing the bond.

Chapter Thirteen

Jason lowered
the newspaper and pushed it across the bar. He sipped the coffee Megan had
placed in front of him while he’d been reading. “They can say it all they want,
but it won’t change the way I play. If I break the homerun record this season,
I do. If I don’t, I don’t. I’m not playing for the record I’m playing for the
win. One game at a time.”

“So says the man
just a few homeruns short of breaking the Mustangs’ record and on track to
break the major league record for homeruns in a single season,” Jeff said from
the other end of the bar.

Megan slid a
stack of pancakes across the bar. He poured a generous stream of syrup over
them and dug in. Since he’d moved to a house of his own, these moments with his
brother and sister-in-law had become rare. The woman sure could cook. He missed
coming home to one of her meals, but he gave up the right to her cooking—and more—when
he’d recognized her love was only for Jeff. But that hadn’t stopped him from
bumming a meal when he could.

“Yeah, well….” He
downed another forkful of syrup-coated clouds. “I can’t think about the record
and play the game. If I tie it or break it, then I do.”

He stopped
chewing to watch Megan hoist herself and her burgeoning belly onto the barstool
next to him. She was a beautiful woman, and now that she was pregnant, she
glowed. A pang of envy shot through him, but he quickly dismissed it. He’d had
his chance with her. They were friends now, brother and sister. The child she
carried would be his niece or nephew.

“Think the kid
will be able to tell us apart?” he asked.

“Sure he will.” She
reached for her glass of orange juice. Her basketball-sized belly hindered her,
so he slid the glass closer. “Thanks. And yes, anyone who knows the two of you
can tell you apart. Jeff’s the closed off one, you’re the open book. Though I’m
having a hard time reading you right now. Not that you aren’t welcome anytime,
but what brings you here so early on your day off?”

“I’m going to
tell her,” he said. He’d come close to telling her that night a few weeks ago
when he realized he was in love with her, but something cautioned him to take
his time. In the last few weeks, he’d introduced her to more adventurous play,
and tested her in every way he could think of until he was sure her sexual
needs matched his. Now, if only he could be as certain she wouldn’t bolt when
she found out who he was. If they were ever going to take their relationship
out of the Dungeon, she’d have to accept everything that came along with being
publicly linked to a celebrity.

“It’s about
time,” Jeff said.

“He’s right,
Jase. You should have told her a long time ago.”

Jason glared
across the bar at his brother. “Thanks for keeping my confidence, bro.”

“Hey, Megan’s
family. If you didn’t want me to tell her, you should have said so.”

Before he could
argue, Megan cut in. “I’m here for you, and for her, Jase. If she needs to talk
to someone afterwards—”

“Thanks.” Jason
straightened. “I guess I just needed to remind myself that it can work. Look at
you two, all happy and pregnant. I want that, too, and I think she’s the one,
if she doesn’t hate me when she finally sees me and finds out why I’ve kept her
in the dark so long.”

“She won’t,” Megan
said, laying a hand on his arm. “You’re a good man, Jason Holder. She’ll
understand your reasons. Who knows? Maybe she won’t even recognize you.”

He lifted an
eyebrow at his sister-in-law. “You’ve got to be kidding. Since I’ve gotten
within range of the record, my face is all over the place. The Mustangs even
put me on buses. And there’s that giant building wrap you can see off I-35. She’d
have to be blind not to have seen my face around town.”

“Well, I’m sure
it won’t make a difference to her, but if it does, send her to me. I’ll set her
straight,” she said.

He left his
brother’s house feeling better. Carrie had proven her commitment to him over
and over, but still he’d put off the inevitable. Every time he’d introduced
another scene devised to test her boundaries, she’d come through, trusting him
completely. It was time he did the same. He just needed to come up with the
right words to explain why it had taken him so long.

Cowardice? Yeah,
that pretty much covered it. At first, he’d feared for his career and Carrie giving
him up to the tabloids, but he couldn’t imagine her doing such a thing now. She
was committed to their relationship, and from their post-scene conversations,
he knew she, too, wanted to keep that part of her life private.

But he was still
an ass for not telling her the truth. Except now, he feared she wouldn’t want
to be involved with a celebrity. Right now, she could see his face plastered on
the side of a bus and not think anything of it—because she didn’t know the man
on the side of the bus was the same one who restrained her and administered
doses of pain and pleasure to her on a regular basis. He’d done things to her
polite society would never understand, and she’d loved it. Guaranteed, she’d
never look at his face on a billboard again without some kind of reaction. He
only hoped to God it was a positive one.

* * *

Carrie read the
email, memorizing the instructions for that night, hating that work would keep
her away for the next several days. She would miss him terribly. She always did
when he was out of town. He’d only be a phone call away, but somehow, this was
different. He’d be the one at home, waiting for her to come back, instead of
the other way around. Two days. Three, max. That was all. She would survive. They’d
 been apart before. She could do this.

She typed her
reply, informing Master she would be waiting for him tonight, as he’d
requested, but adding the news she had to go out of town for her job. Why did
this feel so awful like she was cutting herself off from oxygen? She squared
her shoulders, lifting her ribcage. Flattening her hand against her midsection,
she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was perfectly ridiculous the
way her finger shook hovering over the computer key that would send her
message.