The Dom With a Safeword (19 page)

He crushed her face down, flat to the floor, pressing her there with his whole body. Wriggling beneath him only resulted in his hard cock pressing against her ass. She stopped. Maybe he would think she was done fighting and let her up.

“Sabrina,” he barked. “Get those cuffs for me. And one of the collars I threw on the chair.”

Collar? She went wild beneath him, managing to dislodge him in her panic. Before she could gain her feet, he caught her wrists and held them together behind her, a knee in her lower back. She kicked but couldn’t reach him with anything that was strong enough to do damage or knock him off of her. Grit from the floor ground into her skin and she panted hard. Sweat rolled into her eyes. Escape was starting to seem impossible.

“
Shh
,” he said. “Just a play collar.
Safeword
if you can’t handle it.”

Fuck him and his
safewords
. She fought hard as he secured one wrist then the other, clipping them together in front of her. A leather collar was buckled on, and she could feel her free will slipping.

His
.

He tied a short rope connecting the collar to her cuffs then let her go. She managed to pull her knees up underneath her, but as she tensed her stomach muscles to rise into a kneeling position, a hand pushed her back down. Her forehead pressed against her splayed hands and she realized she was exactly as he’d wanted her. Ass up. It was too late.

As she tried to slide her knees closer to her chin so she could sit back on her feet, he grabbed her hips and held her in place. A leg insinuated itself between hers, and she was wide open to him and completely helpless. She whimpered, shivering in his steely grip.

“Now stay!” he boomed in her ear and slapped her hard on the ass for emphasis. The throbbing print he’d left pulled the stopper on her anger and it drained away. “Condom please, Sabrina.”

Sabrina’s bare feet padded across the floor. “Are you okay, Q?”

Q caught a glimpse of her friend’s frightened face. Poor thing. She nodded, gritting her teeth. “I need this.”

“Roll it on me,” Jude ordered. “If I let go, she might start fighting again.”

A hiss of breath and some fumbling and then he was sliding the tip of his cock up and down her slit. One hand had disappeared from her hip. She mewled, pressing back into the stroke. He slapped her again. “No moving until I give you permission.”

Toying between her legs, he sank down to kiss away the sting of the handprints he’d left. He nipped at her skin and she moaned. The firm caress of his tongue on her clit and at her entrance drove her mad.

“Please, please, please!” she begged. Fresh sweat of desperation sprung out on her skin.

“Please what?” he whispered against her tender flesh.

“Please cock!” The words tumbled out desperate and pathetic, but she no longer cared.

She felt him shift until the head of his member slid lazily back and forth across her pussy. So close! The effort of staying still made her quiver expectantly.

“Who’s in charge right now, Q?”

“You, Sir. You’re in charge.” It came out in a babble. “I’m sorry I’m bad. Please fuck me. Please
choose
to fuck me!”

“You’re a good girl, Q. You just need to be shown who’s boss.”

Without warning he thrust the head of his cock into her, grabbing her hips so she couldn’t move. He pulled back until he was almost out, and then pushed a little further in, entering her so gradually and frustratingly that she struggled and screeched. He hit bottom before he was all the way in. She squeezed her eyes shut – he felt huge.

He groaned. “Fuck, you two are tight.” It sounded like he was gritting his teeth.

“... he says like it’s a bad thing.” Sabrina snorted. Sabrina. She’d forgotten she had a front row seat.

Jude’s rhythm sped up and Q shuddered as the tickle of a soft hand trailed over her back. She opened her eyes. Sabrina was lying beside her, staring at her face. Sabrina bit her lip and drew her fingers over Q’s ribcage, stroking to where her nipples were almost brushing the floor.

Jude pounded into her, holding her by the back of the hair. Floor grit dug into her knees and forearms. The dichotomy of violence and gentleness twisted her arousal tighter. Her heartbeat accelerated. She sobbed, writhing beneath him and trying desperately not to orgasm.

“She’s fighting it,” Jude snarled, his voice animalistic. “Lower,
Sabrina. Make her come for me.”

Tentative fingers spread apart her folds, finding her swollen clit and tapping it. Her breath caught, and she wriggled back against Jude, trying to avoid the sensation. The tapping repeated, becoming rhythmic. She couldn’t hold out much longer. God. Sabrina was...

Jude swore. Fire exploded between her neck and shoulder as he bit down.

Q screamed, the pain throwing her over the edge. Her body seized up, trying to crush him within her. With eyes squeezed shut, tears leaked from them like blood. The pressure on her clit intensified and she came again, her own hoarse cry deafening her. Muscles contracted over and over. Her voice gave out and she could do nothing but whimper and accept the waves of pleasure. She wondered if it would ever stop.

Their stroking gentled as her orgasm slowed. Her heart was stuttering in her chest and her legs felt wobbly. Fainting was not entirely out of the question.

Jude slid out and pulled her into his lap, cradling her against his chest. Something brushed her leg and Q cracked open an eyelid to see Sabrina sitting down beside them, leaning into Jude’s embrace. Q shifted a bit and buried her face blissfully in Sabrina’s hair.

When her heart finally slowed back to its usual speed, Jude removed the cuffs and collar. Freed, she rose, drawing her lovers up with her and dragging them to the window seat. Even with the three of them stretched out, there was still plenty of room.

The sky beyond the window blazed with hot purples and cool blues, but Q discarded the idea of grabbing her camera in favor of staying exactly where she was – pressed as tightly along Jude’s right side as Sabrina was on his left. Jude’s arms wrapped around them both and Q’s fingers laced with Sabrina’s on his chest. Lethargy swept over her and her eyelids drooped.

“So did you pick something, Jude?” Sabrina said. Apparently she wasn’t sleepy.

“Hmmm?” His tone suggested he had started to drift off, himself.

“For your
safeword
?” she explained. “After seeing Q’s disturbing need for violence, I think you might need one.”

“Passports,” he mumbled. “You’ll need one to make a run for it if either of you tries to knee me again.”

Sabrina was laughing as sleep stole Q away.

Chapter 9

Sabrina

Nestled in the warmth of two bodies, limbs tangled with hers, Sabrina woke slowly. Q’s soft breath on her skin made goose bumps rise on her arms. Her face was nuzzled against Jude’s chest, his manly scent made her insides clench with the memory of the afternoon. The strange surroundings triggered more memories. This was Jude’s
bedroom, not the sitting room.

Mmm
.
She wanted to throw her arms around both of them and hold them tight while drifting off into a sweet dreamland. But unfortunately her bladder had other plans. She opened her eyes then blinked a few times. Pitch black. It was still the middle of the night.

She groaned quietly then began the process of untangling herself from the duo, careful not to disturb Q and Jude. How did she get stuck sandwiched between the two? She should’ve warned them about her impatient bladder.

She swung one leg over Jude’s hip and gracefully lifted herself over his body. Then not-so-gracefully lost balance and flopped to the floor with a loud thud.

“
Ow
.” She shifted to her knees and checked that the two were still asleep. Their soft snores were the only sound in the room. She needed light. Her phone was on the side table. She fumbled around for it, knocking into other object
s. Jude and Q didn’t even stir.

Finally, she felt the solid rectangular shape in her hand. She turned it on and used it like a flashlight to tip-toe her way through the room. Third door on the right, third door on the right, she chanted. Jude had made her memorize the layout for this very reason. She flipped on the bathroom light, shielding her eyes from the brightness.

On her way back from the bathroom, a blinking light in the hallway caught her eye. Red, green, and yellow lights flashed on the floor in the corner. The EMF detector! She rushed for her equipment bag. She must’ve left it on yesterday when she packed up.

After she pulled it out, she studied the readings. Disbelieving, she checked it over and over. Then she dug through the bag and took out her infrared air thermometer and turned it on. They all said the same thing.

“Holy shit,” she mumbled. There was an active spirit in the house right at this moment! She grabbed the small pouch at the bottom of the bag labeled
Emergency
– a competent investigator was always prepared – and set off to find her ghost.

It crossed her mind to wake Jude and Q but she didn’t want to risk their irritation if this was a false alarm. She’d feel guilty if they lost sleep because of another dead end. Besides, ghosts couldn’t hurt her. It helped to chant that in her head as she crept through the dark hallways.

Ghosts can’t hurt me, ghosts can’t hurt me.
The floorboards creaked with each step. Her PIN pointed down. She peered down the pitch black stairwell toward the first floor
. Ghosts can’t hurt me, ghosts can’t hurt me…

When there’s something strange…in your neighborhood –

Damn it!

She sighed then steeled her courage and flew down the stairs as fast as her bare feet could take her. At the bottom, she cursed herself for not throwing on a pair of shorts before she went so far from the bedroom. Hopefully, any ghosts she ran into weren’t literate. Otherwise they’d know she was a “naughty girl.” And how embarrassing would that be?

At least her t-shirt was decent – a black v-neck borrowed from Q. Shoving back the hair from her face, she followed the signal onward. From her emergency pouch, she pulled out the cheap digital camera and a flashlight. She held the flashlight between her teeth while she fiddled with the camera, turning it on and putting it on the nighttime setting.

Then she felt it. A cold spot. Right in the middle of the rundown dining room where they’d done the séance. A shiver rocked her. Early July on the New Jersey coast was muggy and warm. But the dining room was at least ten degrees cooler than the rest of the house. There was an active spirit here. Her equipment agreed with a series of soft beeps.

Trying not to tremble – from excitement and fear – she held the camera up and spun in a circle, snapping pictures as she went. Sometimes spirits invisible to the human eye, showed up on film.

A low moan came from behind her. She jumped and the flashlight clattered to the wood floor. She spun in a circle, but it was almost impossible to see without the light. Silence encompassed the dark room. The air grew colder, making her teeth chatter. That and her heavy breathing were the only sounds.

But there had been someone, only a moment ago. She was positive she’d heard a human voice. As if someone was right behind her.

She squinted into the dark. If Q was playing a trick on her, she was so dead. “Q,” she whispered. “I’m
gonna
kick your ass if that’s you.”

The moan came again, from her left. Her chest tightened and a small squeak escaped her. Fuck! She dropped to all fours, reaching frantically for her flashlight. The groans got louder – a woman’s voice.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! It’d never seemed this scary in the books. Her fingers grasped the hard plastic of her flashlight and she shot to her feet, whirling the light around. Big fucking mistake.

Something floated by the light. So briefly, she almost didn’t catch it. Her heart leapt in her throat. It crossed the light again – gaunt, translucent figure – then disappeared.

She squeezed her eyes shut
. Ghosts can’t hurt me, ghosts can’t hurt me.
What the fuck was she thinking looking for ghosts? And why the hell didn’t she carry one of those ghost-sucking backpacks from
Ghostbusters
?

Wails of pain bounced off the walls. She could barely breathe. Stumbling back, she put her arms out behind her, searching for the wall to steady her. Finally, she found the hard surface. She pushed her back up against it, dragging air into her lungs in big mouthfuls.

The wall moved. It fell away behind her, gravity taking her with it. She tumbled backward into a small tunnel, a yelp her last noise before the wa
ll swung shut in front of her.

No! She jumped up and felt around the door. No handle. She pushed, straining with all her might. It didn’t budge. She tried to find purchase for her fingers between the door and the wall, but she couldn’t get a firm enough grip.

With a whimper, she stepped back and covered her eyes with her hands.
Get yourself together, Sabrina. Don’t be a helpless victim.

Think. This must be the other side of the secret passageway Jude showed her upstairs. So if she followed it, she should come out in his closet. Yes. That was a good plan.