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Authors: Riley Murphy

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“Very good.” His hand slipped down between her legs and he
cupped her there, applying a nerve-racking pressure as he spoke, “A good sub
finds ways to please her Dom. She anticipates his pleasure and works to
heighten it.” He pressed his palm against her and she quivered. “A good sub
knows that her willingness should come from the need to please and not be
inspired out of fear of punishment.”

The muscles low in her belly fluttered and jumped as an aching
began to take root. No matter how hard she wanted to ignore his touch and
concentrate on the bad images emblazed in her mind he wouldn’t let her escape.
He adjusted and increased the pressure of his hand as he curled down over her.
“A smart sub knows the power of kneeling at her Dom’s feet. She knows it’s
better to be interested than interesting. That nothing is taboo because the
lessons and guidance he offers are there for her to learn. To grow and heal.
His judgment she trusts above all others because no one knows her better than
her Dom.”

His finger skated up and down her slit, slipping between the
folds and finding that bundle of nerves to circle. Over and over he looped
until she quaked and moaned. Her whole body tingled and then ignited into a series
of sizzles when he slid a finger slowly into her.

“Is that what you want? Do you want a man who knows you
better than you know yourself? A Dom to protect and guide you through thick and
thin? A Master who you can trust not to hurt or betray you?”

She barely heard his words. She was too entrenched in
feeling. Experiencing the awakening of chills and thrills deep inside her. A
rebirth of wondrous sensations that had been dormant for so very long. Too
long. She wasn’t going to cry. Not now. Not when—but then the inevitable
prickle stung behind her closed lids and her nose burned and
dammit-it-all-to-motherfucking hell, hot salty tears skidded through the
blindfold gap, down one side of her cheek.

The mattress dipped deeper as he bent and kissed them away. “There’s
no shame in crying, princess. Tears cleanse the soul.”

That made her sob harder for some reason. She doubted it was
his words, more his tone that got to her as there wasn’t a drop of pity buried
in that soft and husky timbre. If there had been she could have hated him. She
could have lashed out at him, but he’d done nothing more than state facts the
way he saw them.

“Let’s exorcise at least one of the demons that haunt you.
Maybe we’ll lighten the burden you carry on these shoulders of yours.”

As he spoke he trailed hot kisses along her collarbone to
her neck and gave her one last intimate stoke before he moved away from her.
Instantly a swish of cool air raked her bottom, jarring her, but not jarring
her as much as what came next.

She heard the snap of the container open and smelled a hint
of strawberries before he used the side of his hand, totally slathered with
cream to part her bottom. There was no hurry in the way he did this, no rush as
he sawed the side of his hand against her inner crease. Up and down he worked
until the generously applied lotion made noise as it sucked against her flesh
in the most intimate way imaginable.

“I’m sorry pain was your first introduction to this part of
your body. There’s great pleasure to be had here if one is patient and
careful.” He breathed this next against her ear, “I intend to be very careful.
Very patient with you. Are you ready? Deep breath…”

Chapter Three

 

Ted pushed the smallest bead into her and when she groaned
his dick throbbed. “Easy,” he said and slowly inserted another slightly bigger
sphere inside her. Steeling himself when she shivered. “We’re going to take
this nice and slow.”

He kissed the tip of her shoulder and allowed her moan to
vibrate through him as he added another bead and then another.

“Shhh… Each pearl is bigger than the last, so you have to
relax and—”

Her sexy sigh nearly undid him. This combined with her
erotic little hip flex got his blood pumping.

“Keep breathing. Slow and steady. There’s only two more.” He
nuzzled her neck. “One more. Just one…” Blowing a deep breath across her
temple, he sighed. “There.”

He gave her a moment to adjust to the pressure while he
checked her hands and feet. Satisfied that the rope wasn’t too tight on any of
her limbs, he lay back down.

“Open your fists. I want every part of you relaxed while I
play with you.”

He came up on elbow behind her and waited for her to do as
he said. Although her arms lost most of their tension her hands were still
tightly clenched.

“Don’t be stubborn.” He gave her a sweeping brush over her
rib cage, down the dip of her waist and up the rise of one hip with his
fingers, saying, “Come on,now, be a good girl. Please me.”

She hesitated and he reversed his sweep, repeating, “Please
me.”

The slow unfurling of her fingers worked him like a direct
stroke to his libido. Just the thought that she’d done this small thing for him
made his pulse hammer and the blood thicken in a nice hard beat against his
cock head.

Trouble. Forget the capital T. She spelled that word out
in life-sized letters.

“Very good.” He twined his hand in her hair and tugged,
exposing the full column of her throat before he came down to lick then bite
until she trembled. “I want you to trust me, princess. Just for tonight. I’m
going to be your everything.” He pulled the tie from her mouth and whispered
against her cheek, “Say thank you.”

He held his breath. Waiting. Wanting to hear her say the
words.

“Thank you.”

“I want you to trust me. Say yes.”

She licked her lips. “Yes.”

That was all he needed. He let go of her hair and shifted
down beside her. Taking his time, he rubbed and petted every inch of her,
leaving the best parts for last. “This is hot. Is it throbbing?” He pinched
then pulled on her right nipple.

“Yes.”

He loved the way she bit her lower lip when she tilted her
head back to answer him.

“What about this one? Does it ache?” He moved to roll her
left nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

“Can I take off the blindfold?”

Ignoring her question, because she hadn’t answered him, he
rolled her flesh more firmly and insisted, “Does it ache?”

“Yes, damn you, it does. I want to take off the fucking
blindfold.”

He rested his forehead against her temple and took a deep
breath. Exhaling it slow, he said, “No swearing, no demands and no questions.
Only PG-rated answers from you, otherwise I’ll be forced to use the tie again.”

“Fu—”

He put a hand over her mouth to silence her and chuckled
when she tried to bite him. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

She screamed beneath his hand and tried again to get a piece
of him, which only made him tighten his hold. She had good instincts, he’d give
her that. The second she sensed an opportunity to throw him on the defensive
she took it. God she’d be fun to challenge.

“I’m going to let go now and I want you to be quiet.”

“Fuc—”

His hand cut her off and he counted to ten. “Here comes
another chance, princess.” He let go and sure enough…

“F—”

He tightened his grip and counted to twenty this time. “We
have all night. I’m in no hurry. You?”

“Fu—”

This time he counted to forty. “Another chance.”

“You f—”

His count this time was eighty. Followed by one hundred and
sixty and finally when he’d counted off three hundred and twenty he knew he’d
won. The belligerent tilt of her chin considerably eased.

“Now I’m going to let go and I want silence from you.” Her
warm breath shot across the top of his hand as she considered those words. Her
frown was deep when she finally nodded.

“Let’s try this again.”

He plucked her right nipple until it was hard and standing
to attention, then he pinched and pulled on it, only this time harder. Her lips
parted in a silent gasp, but wisely she didn’t speak.

“This is hot. Is it throbbing?”

She nodded.

“I’d hear your answer.”

“Yes.”

“Very good. What about this one.” He took hold of her left
nipple and purposely rolled it harder than before. “Does it ache?”

“Y-yes it does.”

“Beautiful. I want all of you aching for me.”

He shifted to spoon with her and slid a hand between her
legs. He was careful to stay away from her clit as he didn’t want to push her
to orgasm too soon. He knew with the pressure of those beads she’d be on edge
and he wanted to keep her there so she understood he was in control.

If she were truly his sub he’d have already trained her to
deny herself pleasure until he commanded her to come. She’d be so invested in
his needs that she’d forget about her own until he made her remember them.

Just the thought of making a woman like her get herself off
at his command had him breathing hard. Those images, combined with the slick
honey that trickled out of her and glossed his fingers, made him hungry for
another taste, but he wasn’t going to do that at the moment.

“Damn, your slick little pussy is tempting.” He dipped his
fingers in and scooped. The glistening sheen against his skin caused him to
involuntarily swallow before he brought those drenched digits to her mouth and
whispered, “Open up. Suck them clean, that’s right. You taste good, don’t you?”

She moaned and sucked and moaned some more.

“All right, that’s enough. Let me take you to heaven. Are
you ready?”

 

Jo was lost. She’d tried every way she could think of to
push him to anger and all he’d done was give her pleasure. Even when he played
with her nipples hard, the thrilling spikes of pain ended with rolls of wavy
exhilaration and now he had a good hold of her clit, massaging it, as
adrenaline sped and a flush built from her toes to her center. Stretching out
and upward to her neck and cheeks. Blood pounding in her ears as her heart
raced and she panted to ward off the inevitable fall.

“Don’t back off.” He slid a finger into her and stroked. “I
want you to come all over my hand. I want your inner muscles to squeeze me good
and tight when you do.”

She was crying, no, sighing and the air got thin. She needed
more of it. Her heart hammered against her rib cage. The center of her ached
and… “Oh God.”

“Give up, princess. Let it happen. Here.”

“Ahh.” This was torn out of her because he slipped a second
finger into her and suddenly she couldn’t stop the forward motion. Her body did
as it wanted to do and she let go. With the first wave of an orgasm upon her,
he kept a steady rhythm. In and out he pumped with one hand while he used his
other to slowly, expertly, pull the beads out of her. One by one he tugged,
hitting the exact peak of every tremor until she cried. Moaned. Died.

“I can’t…”

He kept it up, prolonging the heavy waves as he dislodged
the strand of pearls completely. Even then he didn’t stop. Instead he worked
his fingers, curling them over a spot inside her, rubbing and pressing until
the adrenaline surged again and every molecule in her body lifted, becoming
weightless, until…until…

Exhilaration rocketed to life inside her. Zinging through
her at a dizzy pace. Higher and higher the heady tension coiled tight. Hard.
Squeezing before it blissfully snapped. She gasped as bright specks of
pin-dotted lights shot behind her closed lids. Lost in that erotic galaxy, she
continued panting while she rode the ebbing tide. Her body floated, vibrating
and humming with life like a freshly struck tuning fork against her sensitive
flesh.

She didn’t realize he’d undone the ropes until many moments
later when she licked her lips and moved to rake her hands through her hair.
Her fingers got caught up on the blindfold and she went still. Worried because
he hadn’t said she could take it off.

Worried?

“Here.”

She rapidly blinked when he removed it. Thinking the action
was caused by the newly introduced light, but when he gently smiled at her and
pulled her down so she was lying flat on her back beneath him, she knew the
truth. She was going to cry again. She never cried. Never.

“Aww, are you okay, princess?”

She wanted to answer him. She really did. He was so
handsome. His silky bangs hung forward and framed one side of his face shading
his eyes, but there was no mistaking his expression. He understood. Somehow
this brute of a man who could crush her in two without even trying understood
how hard this had been for her and he was prepared to offer her comfort.

She didn’t want it. She wasn’t going to take it.

“Whoa, damn, you’ve got quite a grip on you.”

She told herself she’d only hug him for a moment. Just until
the tears dried up and she could think of something bitchy or glib to say to
him. Surely she’d be back to her old ornery self in a few minutes.

While she searched for words he adjusted her clothes. She’d
almost forgotten she was still partially dressed so she was grateful when he
pulled her close and gathered the duvet around them.

It felt good to be wrapped in strong arms. Wonderful to have
her nose pressed against all male skin. He was so warm and smelled like clean
laundry.

Holy hell, she was crushing on him. She sniffled and
hiccupped. Crushing? Worse she was crying all over him. She brought a hand
between them and wiped the wet spot she’d made on his shirt.

“I n-never c-c-cry.”

He pulled her closer.

“I swear, I don’t.”

He rubbed her back.

“I’m just-just up-upset.”

“Talk to me.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled deep. By the time she
exhaled she felt infinitely better. And when he continued to stroke her she
relaxed in the embrace.

“I can’t.”

“Tell me what happened.”

“No…I can’t.”

“Tell me.”

She closed her eyes because she knew where this was going.
Just as he’d done when she was swearing at him, he was going to continue to
press her until she gave in. Could she tell him? The only other person in the
world who knew besides her and the one who did it to her was her mother.

“Tell me,” he gave her a gentle squeeze. “Tell me.”

The sudden sense of calm that came over her surprised her.
She kept her eyes closed while she focused on his body language. If he
stiffened or tensed she was going to stop. “On my sixteenth birthday I was
raped.” Nothing. No hiss or gasp. No change whatsoever in him to indicate shock
or repulsion. She let out the breath she’d been holding and continued. “My dad
arranged for me to go to a cultural dance with my older cousin. Well, he’s not
a real cousin, you know? His family has been friends with my dad’s side of the
family for decades. My dad’s into customs and ancestry. The only thing he ever
did to break tradition was marry my mother. Anyway, this friend of the family’s
came here on a student visa and stayed with us. He was amazing. Better than
amazing, in my eyes. Like the awesome big brother I never had. That’s
why…well.” She refocused. “After the dance when he drove us home he stopped at
one of the nearby parks and…”

He held her close. “Go on.”

“He said he didn’t want to go home just yet. That he wanted
to talk to me about future plans. Then he took a bottle out of the glove box
and said it was vodka. I told him I didn’t want any. I didn’t.” She hadn’t
realized she was twisting his shirt in her fist until she heard the threads
crackle. Letting go, she whispered, “Sorry.”

“Finish telling me what happened. Exactly how it happened.
What he said, what you said and what he did. Tell me.”

“He called me a baby. He said I was too chicken to drink
with him, so I got mad and decided to prove him wrong. I took two big gulps.
After I swallowed things became fuzzy. Everything moved in slow motion and I
didn’t have the strength to fight him off when he pulled me into the backseat.
I tried. I did.”

He was stroking her again, only this time it felt vital and
heartening and when he spoke, something inside her melted. “I know you tried.
You were caught off guard and in a position for him to take advantage of you.
Where did he do it? In the back of the car?”

“Yes.”

“Did he say anything to you when he did it?”

“No, that was the worst part. If he was angry or if I’d done
something beforehand I would have had some warning but the whole thing was
surreal. It was…”

“Talk.”

“I couldn’t breathe, that’s the most vivid memory that plays
over in my dreams. I’m suffocating.” She opened her eyes and stared at the
crinkles she’d made in his shirt. This was the first time she’d said it out
loud. She’d never told her mom, nor had she admitted this to herself even, but
the truth was she’d thought she was going to die that night. “He pressed
against my neck so hard my face was forced into the bucket part of the seat.
The itchy fabric smelled like wet dog, rough against my skin and when my hair
slid over my face and got into my mouth I couldn’t breathe. I struggled. I had
to and because I did, he used his jacket to muffle my cries. He pushed it over
the only small space I’d been drawing what little air I could from. It’s a
wonder he didn’t kill me.”

She was silent for a full minute thinking back on that
night. Not reliving it, just processing it in the comfort of arms that offered
protection. “I should probably be grateful that with all the worry over getting
air into my lungs I didn’t pay much attention to what else he was doing to me.
I don’t know how, but I barely remember any of that. Maybe it was the vodka.”

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