His Forbidden Submissive (12 page)

His.

The warm air from her nose wrapped around his glans, foreshadowing the heat he’d find when he slid between her luscious lips. His balls tightened, but he forced himself to pull back for one last torment, although at this point, he wasn’t sure which of them would be more tortured.

“Now lick that stuff off your lips,” he ordered.

Her eyes gleamed with desire as the tip of her pink tongue slipped from between her wet lips and slid along the edges of her mouth as if she were tasting the most delicious cream ever created.

“Mmm,” she moaned. “May I have some more, Sir?”

His cock hitched in his hand. Did she have any clue how fucking sexy she was? Without realizing it, she was on her way to becoming a great sub.

He traced himself against her lips again. This time, her tongue lashed at his length as he painted her mouth with more pre-cum. And when he couldn’t stand her torment a second longer, he released his length and stepped so close to her, his junk pressed against her cheek.

“Eat up, pet.”

Viv had never imagined how arousing submission could be. Her emotions, her body’s reaction to being subdued didn’t make sense, but looking at Brock’s imposingly sexy form, she was more turned-on than she’d ever been in her life.

Brock’s massive cock nearly eclipsed her face. Would she ever get used to the shock of his sex?

God she hoped not.

She wanted every inch of him but she needed a game plan. What was the best way to tackle a cock of this magnitude?

“What are you waiting for, little sub? This hard-on isn’t going away by itself.”

“Nothing, Sir.” Viv was amazed at how quickly she was growing addicted to calling him that. “It’s just, well, your manhood’s a bit intimidating.”

He threw his head back, laughter belting from his throat. The sexy bastard. But she knew how to wipe that smile from his face, game plan or no. She suctioned her lips to the sensitive underside of his cock and worked her way up his length until she was able to suck his tip between her lips.

He buried his hand in her hair. “Much better, pet.”

My pet, little sub…

She should hate those words. They implied she was beneath him, she belonged to him, which she didn’t. But damn she
wanted
to belong to him. Mind, body and spirit. She wanted it more than she’d ever admit out loud.

But she didn’t give herself time to dwell on the contradictory thoughts. She was here to explore, and at the moment, her body was more electrified than it ever had been. Tonight, she’d indulge her impulses. Tomorrow, she’d pick up the pieces.

She licked at the pre-cum in his slit, devouring the salty yumminess. His essence flavored her tongue and she wanted more. With super-slow strokes, she worked his head, lavished it until he finally forced himself deeper.

Gladly, she opened wide to take in as much of him as she could—which, unfortunately, wasn’t much.

Her eyes locked with his as he started thrusting. She lashed at him with her tongue, loving the size and weight of him in her mouth, all smooth on the surface yet hard and unyielding beneath. She pushed harder against his body, sucking him in until his glans touched the back of her throat. She swallowed, her throat clasping around his head with a quick compression and release.

“Such a good little sub.” He brushed the hair from her face, almost as if he were petting an obedient animal. “You look so incredibly sexy with my cock in your mouth.”

He increased the speed of his thrusting. The interval of taps against the back of her throat shortened, giving her less and less time to recover from the erotic assaults. Each jab was fantastic, addictive. Terrifying. On instinct, she lifted her hand to—

Clank.

Shit.

She was chained to the floor.

The reality of her predicament slammed into her with all the unforgiving mercy of an atomic blast. She was helpless, completely and totally at Brock’s mercy, his to use—or abuse.

Brock would never hurt me.

But the words did little to assuage her suddenly spiking panic. She yanked on her restraints again. They were so secure, so unforgiving.

Running wasn’t an option.

Her gaze darted around the room. Mirrors boxed them in on three sides. Was anyone watching them? Would anyone come save her if she yelled the safe word? Or was the safe word nothing more than a con, something told to newbies so—

Terror stomped out her last thought. Standing behind her, his image reflecting in the mirrors like a menacing demon, Steel watched her.

His gaze crawled over her in the same manner it had at the bar. As if she were a piece of meat to be devoured, a toy to be used and abused until she no longer held any interest, to be tossed out and discarded at his whim.

Steel caught her staring at him and grinned—then grabbed his crotch and stroked himself.

Oh god…

She flung her head back. “Stop!” She yanked on her restraints so hard pain bit into her wrists. Would Brock give her to him when he was finished with her?
Would he?
Had everything he told her been a lie?

“Viv. Baby…” Brock dropped to his knees and, in a few quick tugs, released her hands. “Calm down, love.” He wrapped his arms around her and pressed her close. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You’re safe…”

His embrace embodied calm, an oasis in the middle of a desert of panic, and she held on. She buried her face against his naked chest and drew in deep breath after deep breath.

“You’re safe,” Brock continued murmuring. “Breathe…”

Her fingers dug into his back. She held on more fiercely, but terror didn’t want to release its hold on her. Lingering dark images flashed behind her eyes. Brock using her then passing her off to others.

No, no, Brock wouldn’t do that. The man whose arms circled her with such care
couldn’t
do that.

Could he?

No, of course not.

Steel’s laughter taunted her. “Looks like your sub’s a bit of a live wire. Need any help disciplining her for that little outburst? I’d be more than happy to help you fuck the disobedience right out of her.”

Fuck the disobedience out of her?

“No,” she pleaded, terror ripping through her at Steel’s words.
“Please.”

Damn it, damn it, damn it, he was losing her.

Brock swept Viv into his arms before she could make a bolt for the door. She’d been doing so well, enjoying herself, but then everything had changed. Just
wham!
and his sweet, obedient sub had turned into the terrified woman in his arms.

But why? What had spooked her? The sight of Steel? The man had given her the creeps earlier so Brock couldn’t discount the possibility, but his gut told him it was something more. All he knew for sure was he had to find out fast but damned Steel wasn’t helping matters.

“Come on, man, leave her alone. She’s new to the lifestyle and she freaked. There’s nothing to discipline.”

“Whatever you say.” Steel smiled as he turned to go. “But let me know if you change your mind,” he called over his shoulder.

Brock turned his attention back to his frightened sub and moved to the platform. He secured her in his arms, cradled a nearby blanket around her, partly to keep her from running, partly to make her feel safe.

He stroked her hair as she trembled. He whispered to her as she clung to him. He prayed, begging the cosmos tonight wouldn’t be the last night his sexy, yet nervous, little sub lay with him.

Prayed he hadn’t pushed her too far, too fast.

Chapter Ten

Vivian didn’t know how long she lay cuddled against Brock before she regained her composure. Minutes, hours? Not too long but long enough. Long enough to realize what had spooked her, but not long enough to dissipate her confusion.

Brock’s world was intoxicating, a drug on her senses. She’d been wrapped up in the perplexing sexuality, in her body’s reactions to things that didn’t make any sense. She’d been more alive than she had in a long, long time.

Beyond that, she trusted Brock with her life. Hell, she practically
owed
him her life. He’d given her the strength to fight her cancer, a battle Dr. Phillips had all but told her was impossible to win. Brock would never hurt her. Even chained to the floor like a spoil of war, completely and utterly under his control, no way out, no way to retreat, she trusted him, which begged the question.

Just why in the hell had she spazzed?

What must Brock think of her? He hadn’t spoken to her since the incident. He’d murmured platitudes, yes, but he hadn’t
spoken
to her.

She pressed her face fully against Brock’s chest. “Are you disappointed in me?” she whispered even as she dreaded his answer. Of course he was disappointed. What man—
Dom
—wouldn’t be? She was disappointed in herself.

He kissed the top of her head. “Of course I’m not disappointed, sweetheart. Forging a new Dom/sub relationship will be a complicated process. You’re a fiery, independent woman. I don’t expect you to become the perfect obedient sub in one night.”

Her heart pounded with hope. Surely she’d heard him wrong. Yet his words gave her the courage to look him in the eyes.

So many questions and comments floated around in her mind. She hardly knew where to start. “I don’t know what happened. I honestly don’t. I was completely into the moment. I was more aroused, more sexually alive than I’ve ever been. But then you got a little rough. I tried to bring my hand up to control the depth of your thrusts, but I couldn’t. I had no control. The sudden reality freaked me out. And each thought got worse and worse. And then I saw Steel, stroking himself like—”

“Oh pet, you let your mind get the better of you.” He dragged her close for a quick kiss. “When you’re practicing the lifestyle, thinking can often be your enemy.”

His words made no sense. “Thinking, using our minds, keeps us safe.”

“Yes, but thinking also keeps us firmly inside our little safety bubbles. For you, I imagine, my sweet little sub, letting go could be the ultimate aphrodisiac.”

His words taunted her, combined with memories of before her spazz attack, and she could see his words for the truth they were. Giving herself to him had stoked fires inside her she’d never known possible. She’d been swept away in the wildness.

Then she’d started thinking.

She loved Brock. She wanted a future with him. She couldn’t deny her heart still wanted him with every beat, but she didn’t want to lose herself either. “Eugene always tried to control me and I had to fight every day to maintain my independence. And here you come, all dominant and sexy, and with a smile, you can make me do any damn thing you want.”

The last part of her sentence was practically a whisper.

“I’m
not
Eugene.” The words came out short, clipped. His jaw pulsed with restrained anger. “There isn’t a damn thing I’d change about you.”

Tears pressed against the back of her eyes and she rested her forehead against his. Brock respected her for who she was. After a decade with Eugene, hearing Brock say he appreciated her was as powerful as if he’d professed his undying love.

Maybe more so.

The platform shifted and a warm, practically lifeless body pressed against her back. Well, not so much pressed but was placed against her.

Viv glanced in the mirror. Stephen knelt on the opposite side of the platform. He’d laid his sub beside Viv.

“Mind if my sub shares your sub’s blanket?” he asked Brock.

“Not at all.” Brock settled Viv’s head back on his shoulder and held her close as Stephen tugged on the covering. The warmth of the other woman’s nude body replaced the heat of the blanket.

Vivian shivered. She’d never shared a bed with a woman, especially a soft, naked woman. It was odd, yet a bit exciting. But her reaction didn’t mean anything. Her emotions and hormones were so frazzled and intertwined she couldn’t be sure of anything. Common sense told her to ignore it.

Brock’s words came back to her.
When you’re practicing the lifestyle, thinking can often be your enemy.

Conflicting emotions swarmed her but she didn’t want to dwell on anything except Brock, on the plethora of emotions she felt when she was with him. She wanted to be alone with him, to block out all distractions. Maybe letting go would be easier if they were alone. After all, letting go hadn’t seemed to be this difficult back in his office.

Stephen’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Well I’ll be damned.”

Vivian caught her oncologist’s smiling face staring at her through the mirror’s reflection, and she couldn’t help but smile back. Dr. Phillips whispered something to his sub. Vivian couldn’t make out what exactly, but the conversation ended with the other woman mumbling, “Yes Master.”

Stephen stepped around the platform and held his hands out to Vivian. “Brock, may I have permission to touch your beautiful sub?”

“But of course,” Brock answered.

On instinct, she curled closer to Brock. She’d always had a vicious mix of fear, apprehension and anxiety whenever she’d seen Dr. Phillips in the past, but her reaction had more to do with fear her of her disease, not of the man.

This time, however, she feared the man.

Permission to touch your beautiful sub…
What exactly did that mean?

She drew in a deep breath as panic tried to seize control again. Brock wouldn’t let another man have her. She had faith in him. She pulled her wits together and sat tall.

Dr. Phillips cradled her face between gentle hands, his expression as kind and caring as she could remember. “You don’t know how much it pleases me to see you here, my dear.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “It’s nice to see you to, Dr.—”

He pressed his index finger to her lips. “I don’t go by that title here. When I’m at the club, you may call me Master Stephen or Sir, depending on what your Master directs.”

She nodded. Her master? Hearing those words were still odd, but strangely erotic. “Thank you, Sir,” she said, sneaking a peek at Brock from the corner of her eye.

Stephen continued. “Can I assume, since you’re here, you gave your bastard husband the boot?”

“Yes Sir. Served him with divorce papers.”

“About damn time.” He kissed her forehead. “He doesn’t deserve you, sweet. Any man who’d ask his brother to—”

“Stephen.” Brock’s deep baritone cut off the sentence with the finality of a gun blast through a quiet neighborhood.

Her gaze jumped to Brock’s, her eyes pleading for answers. Eugene had asked Brock to do something? What? But Brock avoided her stare, an emotion that looked an awful lot like guilt colored his face.

What the hell?

Before she had time to speak, Marina whimpered. The sound captivated her Dom’s complete attention and he excused himself.

Through the mirror, Vivian’s gaze followed the Dom as he hurried back around the platform then joined his sub. He pulled her into his arms, cradled her against him as he whispered to her. His voice brimmed with so much tenderness and affection the act brought tears to Viv’s eyes.

Her attention returned to Brock but he didn’t give her the chance to examine him. His arms encircled her, pulling her close so she couldn’t see his face. All the softness was gone from his embrace. It was as if she were trapped in a steel prison.

“I think it’s time to go upstairs, little sub. Don’t you? I want to be alone with you again.”

She swallowed hard. As nice as that sounded, she needed to know something first. “I do, but first, what did Stephen mean when he said—”

“That’s an unacceptable way to address your Dom.” His nostrils flared. His fingers dug into her hair and gripped the strands with just enough force to make him menacing. “Try again. An incorrect response will result in punishment.”

She swallowed hard. Apparently whatever reprieve she’d had was over.

“Y-yes Sir,” she whispered.

“Much better, pet.” He traced his knuckle down her cheek. “I’m going to take you to one of the dungeons, chain you to the bed and show you how adept I am at controlling my sub’s passion.”

Dungeon? Chained to the bed? Him directing her passion?

Yes.

No.

Her mind and body warred. She opened her mouth to buy her some time to think—but the words wedged in the fear constricting her throat.

An incorrect response will result in punishment.

This wasn’t the same powerful, yet playful Dom who had showed her his world, pushed her to broaden her sexual horizons. No, this man wore a mask of anger and aggression to hide himself from her. But hide himself for what? What had Stephen been referring to?

She had to find out, and she could think of one way to try. She’d give her body willingly to this angry man, his to use until her love could coax
her
Dom back to the surface.

“I’m yours, Sir. Do with me as you please.” She held her hands to him, the leather wrist restraints he’d given her ready to be used in whatever manner he deemed fit.

“Perfect answer, sweet pet.” He took her lips in a possessive kiss, but too soon, he pulled back. “Now to find out what all I’m going to do to you when we get upstairs. Up on your knees, sub. Straddle my thighs.”

“Yes Sir.” She obeyed his order, her gaze never leaving his, even as his right hand disappeared beneath her skirt.

Skilled fingers eased past the barrier of her panties and pressed between her folds, sliding deep into her pussy and stroking her inner flesh. In no time at all, he found the sensitive bundle of nerves on the front wall of her channel.

She bit on her bottom lip to keep from moaning.

“Concentrate solely on what I’m about to say to you, pet. Understood?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Very good.” His fingers moved slowly inside her. “When we get upstairs, what would you like me to do to you first? Do you want me to use my fingers on you again? My mouth? A vibrator?”

Her pussy gushed at the idea. She’d used a plethora of toys throughout the course of her marriage—a girl had to get her jollies off somehow—but never had Eugene used them on her. Not that she’d asked but still. The idea of being spread open to Brock while he used a toy on her did something strange and undeniable to the spot where his fingers were lodged.

“Okay, I’m
definitely
going to use a vibrator. What else?” He twisted his fingers inside her. “Gags. Nipple clamps. Muzzles. Slings. Swings…”

Brock continued, listing object after object. Some churned her imagination and stoked the fire in her belly. Some were so foreign she didn’t know what they were or what they did—but she could imagine.

“Sir,” she moaned, her hips moving against his hand without her permission. Her hands gripped his shoulders to keep her balanced.

“It’s okay, pet. Take your pleasure. I’ll wait for you to finish before taking you upstairs.”

“Thank you, Sir. But I need more. Please.”

“With pleasure.” Smugness tilted the right side of his lip, and bless him, the thumb of his free hand found her clit and stroked it.

“Yes.” Her head rolled back and she groaned, jerking harder. “Yes.”

Master Stephen’s voice broke in. “She’s quite gorgeous when she’s caught up in her pleasure.”

Sir responded with arrogant approval. “Yes, she is.”

Vivian’s gaze darted to Stephen and Marina. The sub lay quiet and content in her Master’s arms, but Stephen was awake and alert. He watched Viv as Brock fingered her. His gaze roamed her body as—

“Don’t look at them,” Brock ordered. “I want you to focus on me and only me. Only at me.”

She turned her attention back to Sir—sweet, sexy, dangerous Brock.

“This moment’s between the two of us, pet.” Brock’s thumb worked her clit harder, faster. “Just us…”

She nodded, her body starting its final descent into free fall.

“You’re my sub. Mine.
Only
mine.”

His words sent her rocketing over the edge. Pleasure crested in her womb and she came hard and fast. She bucked and squirmed on his fingers. She forced her eyes open as her orgasm consumed her and focused on his face.

The wonderful bastard smiled at her as she lost control, as he pushed her orgasm higher.

She screamed his name. Her body, her voice was no longer under control. She was a slave to her own ecstasy.

As the pleasure slowly ebbed, Brock yanked her in for a long, brutal kiss. “You are spectacular, pet. Truly spectacular.”

No, you are, Sir.

“Take me upstairs,” she whispered against his lips. “Please, Sir. I want to be naked again in your arms.” She covered his hand where his fingers pressed into her and slowly rode the digits, not enough to push her over again, but enough to keep her stoked. “Please…Master.”