Sweet Backlash (10 page)

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Authors: Violet Heart

Tags: #romance, #erotica, #erotic romance, #bdsm, #bondage, #explicit sex, #dominance submission

BOOK: Sweet Backlash
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"My God!" Quieter, he said, "You're
going to make me come."

Releasing him, she asked, "What are
you waiting for?" She couldn't wait. She'd heard Kathy tell so many
times of Stanley coming in her mouth, and Melony wanted to
experience it.

He lifted his head. "Let me
see."

She frowned. "See what?"

"I want to see your luscious lips
around me. Let me watch."

His eyes, red-rimmed with the effort
to hold back, pleaded with her. Her heart responded, going out to
him, and she cupped his cheek and nodded.

"You're so damned beautiful," he said,
his voice rough with passion.

Keeping her gaze locked with his, she
left the bed, inserted her head between his legs, and took him in.
His mouth opened slightly as she sent her tongue once around his
head then took more. She slid her lips along his length, down until
his tip pressed the back of her throat, then returned to the head.
Repeating it, she maintained eye contact and formed a rhythm close
to the one he had set earlier.

When his chest rose and fell with
labored breaths, she reached around his hip and took one of his
nipples. She gently tugged. She caressed her other hand to his knee
and rocked. The first rock made his entire body quake. The second
formed a sheen of perspiration across his forehead, and his eyes
focused so intently on her face she thought he could see inside
her. On the third, she took him as deep as she could while gently
swallowing.

He bared his teeth on a grimace,
squeezed his eyes closed, then arched. His head went to the sheets.
Melony held her breath as his cock jerked, shooting hot cum down
her throat. Watching him lost in ecstasy, pleasure ripped through
her, filling her chest and belly with butterflies. Moisture seeped
out between her legs, but for once, she didn't have an inclination
to do anything about it. She enjoyed being turned on by the sight
of his handsome face in the throes of passion.

When he relaxed, she experienced the
most incredible sense of peace and accomplishment. He seemed
content, in a state somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, so she
worked at removing the ropes without his help. She tossed the bonds
to the floor, kicked off her shoes, and convinced him to turn so
his head lay on a pillow. She cuddled against him. Before she had
them covered with the sheet, his eyes had closed and his breathing
slowed.

She figured lunchtime approached, but
a nap couldn't hurt. Not knowing what Monday would bring, or if she
would ever have this chance again, she settled her head on his firm
shoulder and relaxed.

Startled awake, Melony sat and
blinked. It seemed she had closed her eyes a minute ago, but the
wall clock told her she'd slept half an hour. There came a pounding
at the door.

"Just a minute," she called. Had Kathy
come because Melony hadn't answered the phone earlier?

She grabbed a throw off an armchair,
draped it over her shoulders and scuffled toward the kitchen. Chip
came from the opposite direction, glistening beads of water dotting
his chest and arms and a towel covering his lower half. Disoriented
from waking too fast, she glanced at the empty bed. At a third
knock, her muddled brain remembered she had to answer the
door.

"Melony!" called Frank, his angry
voice stopping her in her tracks.

She shared an alarmed glance with
Chip. He held up a hand to keep her from the door.

"Melony!" yelled Frank again. "I saw
your car in the parking lot, so I know you're home. Open up before
I break this door down!"

 

Chapter 11

 

"I'll answer it," Chip said, not
appreciating the way Frank yelled at Melony.

"In a towel?" she hissed, drawing a
creamy throw tighter around her shoulders.

"I hear you in there!" A loud bang
made the door shudder.

Shaking his head, Chip said, "He
sounds too angry. I don't want him near you."

She scowled. "He sounds worried, not
angry. You don't know him. Besides, you're my slave, not my
protector."

He went to the door and put his hand
on the knob. "This isn't some game, Melony. He's serious." He
opened the door, but it stopped when the safety chain pulled tight.
"Now's not a good time," he told the biker.

Red faced and looking ready to break
something, Frank gave him a once over. The huge man planted a hand
on the door, and with a growl, shoved so hard he broke the chain.
"Out of my way, shit head."

"Hey!" Chip grabbed the guy above a
spiked wristband.

Frank yanked free and said, "Back off,
asshole. I'm here for Melony."

"Like hell you are." Chip wouldn't let
the bastard near her, much less take her out of the apartment. He
hauled back and punched the biker between the eyes. "Aaah!" he
cried, his knuckles exploding with pain.

"Stop!" Melony ran forward and took
his hand, examining the quickly bruising joints. "You didn't have
to do that."

"He ruined your door. You were next on
his seek and destroy list." He stared at the man. The biker simply
stood in the doorway. "He's not moving."

Melony went over and put a hand on his
arm. "Frank?"

Chip grabbed her hand and tugged. "It
could be a trick."

She frowned at an older woman passing
by who slowed to look in, then turned and gave the man a shove.
"Frank?"

Suddenly, the biker went over like a
felled tree, his leather clothes creaking. The woman in the hall
squeaked and made a beeline for the exit.

Melony put a hand over her mouth,
horrified. "You killed him!" she accused.

Chip rolled his eyes. "I did not. I
hit him hard. He deserved it." Squatting, he laid two fingers on
the side of the guy's neck. A steady pulse pushed against the pads
of his fingers. "He'll be fine. Go put on a robe or
something."

"Don't tell me what to do." She shot
him a suspicious look then turned on her heel and padded down the
hall.

Readjusting the towel around his hips,
he went to the sink and wet a dishcloth. He returned to Frank and
dropped the sopping, cold square on his face. Nudging the biker in
the ribs with his foot, he said, "Wake up."

The guy stirred then swiped the cloth
off his face and sat up, sputtering. "You hit me."

"Damn right I hit you. You can't barge
in here and threaten to take Melony. Are you out of your fuckin'
mind?" He crossed his arms and silently challenged the man to start
a fight, though Frank would probably beat him to within an inch of
his life.

"I didn't threaten to take her," he
denied, giving his head a quick shake then standing with a
grunt.

Leaning forward a little, Chip said,
"You broke her chain then said, 'I'm here for Melony.' She's not
going anywhere with you."

Frank shook his head and pinched the
bridge of his nose. "I meant I'm here to check on her. She didn't
answer her phone and I don't know anything about you. You
could've—"

"I'm an attorney." Chip took
exception, insulted the guy would think him capable of who knew
what. "I wouldn't hurt her."

"I know some pretty nasty
lawyers."

"I'll just bet you do."

Frank chuckled. "Well, damn, boy. You
pack a wallop for someone who works a pansy job."

Still on edge, but no longer worried
the biker would take him out, he waved the man inside then swung
the door shut. "Yeah, it's a pansy job until you need one of us to
keep you out of jail."

The man gave him a hearty slap on the
shoulder. "You got me there. What's your name?" He held out his
hand.

"Chip Albemarle." He took it and
accepted the firm handshake.

"Frank Zangotti. You're okay in my
book, Chip."

"Why's that? 'Cause I hit
you?"

"You knocked me out. That ain't
something many have done…and lived to tell about." He grinned and
winked, but Chip didn't think he joked. "No, you were looking out
for Melony. That means a lot. That's why you're still standing
there."

Melony came down the hall wearing a
pale pink V neck T-shirt, faded blue jeans and clean white socks.
"You boys seem to be getting along. Frank, are you
okay?"

"I'm fine, sweetheart. Takes more than
a lawyer to knock me off my game."

"Jackass," said Chip.

"Shit head," Frank laughed. He turned
to Melony. "You didn't pick up when I called. I thought Chip might
have hurt you. He's an okay guy, I think."

She smiled. "Yes, he's an okay guy, I
think."

"Gee, thanks," Chip said and moved
into the kitchen.

Leaning on the island, he drank in the
sight of Melony as she reassured Frank and put up with the man's
lecturing. She had her hair in a ponytail, all the curls gathered
into a cluster like an upside down bouquet, except one, which had
escaped to brush her jaw below her ear. Pale and slender, the nape
of her neck called out for his kisses.

He liked her in casual clothes. She
had looked stunning in business attire Friday. Since then, he'd
only seen her in black dominatrix garb. Of the three, her casual
appearance appealed to him most. It made her seem young, relaxed,
real. With her dressed that way, he wanted to take her for a burger
and a walk through the park. He could imagine a trip to the video
store and stretching out together on the couch. Maybe a weekend
camping trip, or a day-long bike ride through the country with a
picnic lunch.

Jerking, he stood straight. Was he
picturing a future with her? Dark and damaged psycho woman? Maybe
he thought of her in those terms last night while locked to the
bar, but after their incredible morning, he couldn't anymore. She
was special. No doubt about it.

Lost in thought, he almost missed the
fact that Melony had opened the door and stood bidding Frank
farewell. "Wait a minute," Chip said, heading their way. "As fun as
this has been, I've got to get back to my hotel room."

The biker sized him up. "You really
want to go in just that towel?"

He touched fingers to the edge of the
cloth. "I've got a suit around here somewhere."

Melony shook her head. "I took your
clothes to the cleaners last night."

"You did what?" He didn't have any
clothes? Not even underwear?

Frank chortled, apparently amused.
"Sit tight, buddy. I'll get your stuff and check you out of the
room." He headed out, walking toward the exit. "It's not like I've
got anything else to do, since Melony won't let me watch her train
you."

Chip popped his head around the
doorframe, not about to go after the guy in a towel, in case more
of her neighbors happened by. "Wait a minute! Don't do
that."

Frank kept walking. "What do you need
with a hotel room? You're going to be here for the next month."
Then the large man passed through the exit and out of
earshot.

Chip wanted to hit something, but his
knuckles had taken enough abuse. "Damn it!" He went in and closed
the door. Melony stood at a kitchen counter, dicing cooked chicken
breasts on a cutting board. "What am I supposed to wear?" he
asked.

"Your loincloth's in the
playroom."

Playroom his ass. More like torture
chamber. "Did you say loincloth?" She couldn't be
serious.

She nodded. "Standard apparel for a
slave. I ran some errands last night and picked up a couple for
you. I washed them this morning before we got started." She scraped
the chicken into a bowl and lined celery on the board.

"About that. I have a problem with you
cuffing me to a bar then leaving me alone, naked and
defenseless."

She stopped chopping and turned. "I
didn't like doing it, but we needed some things. I hadn't planned
on taking a new partner, much less an inductee. I wasn't prepared.
I'll pick up your clothes from the cleaner on Monday, during my
lunch break, and Frank will bring all your other things this
afternoon. I'm sorry about all this. I really am." Sincerity
gleamed from her soulful gaze.

He took a step toward her. "Look, do
we really have to do this? I seemed to have made friends with
Frank. I'm sure I can talk him into letting this all go. I don't
need to stay here and inconvenience you." It hit him that he
actually liked the idea of staying. All the other stuff, whips and
cuffs and her calling him slave, he could do without.

She set down the knife and closed the
gap between them. In a hushed voice, she told him, "Frank's not
going to let you go. Don't think for a second he's your friend.
He'd just as soon kill you. If you leave, that's exactly what he'll
do. He's decided you're my slave, whether we like it or not. So,
inconvenient as it is, we're here for the duration."

"I don't get it. What's this thing
between you two?"

She returned to the cutting board and
got back to work. "It's him, not me. He's crazy in love with his
wife, Velma. When my best friend, Kathy, took me to my first
society meeting as an inductee last year, I was really messed up. I
cried the whole time. Well, Velma sat next to me and cried right
along. Ever since then, she's sort of adopted me. And what Velma
loves, Frank loves."

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