Chapter One 7 page

He released her, and his big hands steadied her as she slid off his legs and onto her knees. Her voice shook as she stared at her hands clenched together in her lap. “I'm sorry, Sir.”

No answer.

She looked up. He was waiting for…for the rest. “Please forgive me, Sir.” She felt tears still rolling down her cheeks and didn't dare move to wipe them away. His gaze held her pinned as he studied her, looking for…something. She wanted to give him whatever he wanted, and then maybe he'd hold her. She wanted to be held so badly.

“I forgive you, little cat,” he said gently. “Strip for me now.”

One second of shocked horror and then she caved. He had control, and she'd given it to him. To finish seemed…right, as if it satisfied something within her. Her clothes dropped to the floor, and she stood before him naked.

When he held his arms out, she fell into his embrace.

MacKensie vibrated in his arms like a badly tuned machine; the trembling rolled through her body in waves. Alex tightened his grip, tucking her head into the hollow of his shoulder, and let her feel his warmth and strength. His comfort.

“I'm proud of you, little cat,” he murmured, stroking her sweat-damp hair. “It's not easy to submit, even if it's what you want to do. Giving up control takes as much internal strength as taking control. Maybe more.”

He glanced up and realized the others had cleared out when the punishment began. Some discipline should be witnessed; some should be private. The Doms had known what he'd planned. They'd helped push MacKensie into defying him so he could give her what she couldn't admit she wanted. From the feel of her in his arms and the calm look on her face when she asked forgiveness, the spanking had satisfied something in her.

His next task would be to find out why.

But first she needed to be held, and he needed to hold her. Erotic pain aside, deliberately hurting a woman could indeed hurt the giver too. A Dom's nature was to protect a helpless woman, but sometimes the path to healing came through pain.

He pulled her closer, pleased at the way she snuggled into his arms, as trusting now as a sleepy kitten. And he knew he'd spoken truly a few minutes ago.

He did care.

* * * * *

A while later, Alex set MacKensie on her feet and picked up two heavy blankets. He wrapped one around her. “Time for some more fresh air.”

She glanced toward the clothing still piled on the floor, and he shook his head, amused at her look of outrage. His little cat recovered quickly.

The wind off the Sound moistened his face as he guided her down the beach to a spot where piles of driftwood on three sides gave an illusion of privacy, and the sand hid everything else. Not that restraints would be needed tonight.

After opening his blanket on the sand, he took a seat and used a weather-smoothed log for a backrest. Smiling at her wary expression, he drew MacKensie down to sit between his legs.

She gave a muffled yelp when her sore ass hit the rough blanket, then relaxed, resting her back against his chest, his arms around her waist. It was a rare evening with no rain, and there were few places as lovely as the beach. The waves washed onto shore in a soft rhythm as lighted freighters and ferries traversed the Sound with a slow dignity. Overhead, patchy clouds drifted in front of the waning moon, creating shadows that flowed across the white sand.

Gradually the tension eased from his little sub's body.

“I've canoed on a lake at night,” she said, her voice hushed. “This is like it but more…alive.”

“Yes.” He kissed her cheek. “I'll have to take you to the ocean. Our Sound is sweet and gentle; the Pacific has more moods.” In an unhurried move, he slid his hand under the blanket and cupped a pert breast. He could feel as well as hear her sharp inhalation. His arm tightened around her waist, a quiet warning about whose body he held.

He felt the tremor run through her and the stiffening of her muscles. Her discomfort at being touched intimately by a man, even him, hadn't diminished much. He had no intention of pursuing sex now, but he needed his hands on her to read her responses and show him the way.

Most people's beliefs and responses to spanking originated in childhood. He'd start there. “I've lived close to Puget Sound all my life,” he said easily. “Where did you grow up, MacKensie?”

“Iowa. You know that,” she said. Terse answer. Not a subject she wanted to pursue.

“Ah yes, that's right. Did you grow up in that town you came from? Oak Hollow?” He'd never have detected the quickly controlled jerk if his hand hadn't rested on her breast.

“That's right.” She tried to sit up, and he pulled her back.

“Are your parents still there?”

“They died. When I was four.”

He felt as if he were Butler, pursuing an elusive mouse through the grass. “Who raised you then?”

“I went into foster care.”

She strained against his grip. Foster care might hold the key. “How were you punished in foster care, little cat?”

“Frak, that's not… I'm not going to talk about… None of your business.”

Frazzled and a little lost, and the spanking still affected her emotions. He'd counted on that. “Answer me.”

“We had time-outs.”

Well, that sounded harmless enough, except the tension buzzed through her body so fiercely, it made his hands ache. What could go wrong in a time-out? Length or location? “Send her where you didn't have to look at her,” she'd said. “Where did you have your time-outs?”

Her whole body stiffened as if he'd hit her.

Right question. “MacKensie?”

“A closet. She'd lock us in a closet,” Mac said, her voice thin and high.

“So who got spanked?”

Chapter Twelve

Mac could feel Alex's body surrounding her and his hand on her breast. Yet it was as if the real MacKensie had disappeared, and he held a doll rather than a person. “Her daughter got spanked. Arlene loved her daughter.”

“Oh hell,” Alex breathed. His words startled her, as did his kiss on her cheek. His scratchy chin nuzzled her neck before he said, “You know, little cat, I could tell you that the old bitch should be shot for abusing children in her care, and that you're a bit confused when it comes to being punished because of her, but my words wouldn't make much difference. Your thinking mind might take it in, but the subconscious resists any change.”

Confused? More like totally screwed up. Between her childhood and her whoring days, her internal map of the world looked more like a jigsaw puzzle dropped on the floor. This wasn't a big revelation. And the way her stomach clenched when his hand stroked her breast just emphasized that.

“Did anyone touch you sexually when you were little?” Alex asked. His other hand slid through a gap in the blanket. She gave up holding the edges closed and grabbed his hand. Warm fingers closed on her cold ones.

“MacKensie?”

“No.” Her voice came out slightly breathless. “No one.”

“Are you going to tell me what happened twelve years ago?”

“No.” She tried to pull away again, as useless an effort as a butterfly trying to escape a hungry bird.

“All right.” He didn't sound angry, but she knew him now. He didn't give. Persistence should be his middle name. But instead of talking more, he caressed her breast. His fingers circled her nipple, and she could actually feel the tiny muscles in the areola bunching in response to his knowledgeable touch. He moved to the other breast, and as if the two were joined by a wire, they both soon ached.

“Alex, I want to go now. I'm tired.”

He pinched her nipple hard enough to make her jerk, and yet the sizzle went straight to her clit. Her pussy started to burn. “Don't lie to me, pet. I prefer a refusal to a lie, but right now, I'll accept neither. I've had a long evening, and I intend to play with my sub a little.”

Play with me? A chill crawled up her spine, putting out the heat as if ice water had been dumped on it.

“Yes, play with you,” he said, startling her. She hadn't realized she'd spoken. “Don't worry, pet. My cock will stay where it is unless you jump on it. But that's the only concession you get tonight.” His fingers tightened on her nipple as if to prove his point. Pressing and then releasing in a slow rhythm until her blood and pussy pulsed in response.

He bit her neck lightly, and she jumped. How did he make all the sensations flow into her clit like water flowing into the ocean? Filling it until it throbbed.

As if he'd heard her, his other hand released her fingers and stroked down her body, ever so gently and yet inexorably. She set her hand over his, lacing her fingers between his and trying to stop him, a useless attempt. When his fingers stroked across her pussy, her fingers were still laced through his.

He chuckled. “I hadn't thought you the type for masturbation in public, but I enjoy watching a woman pleasure herself. You may continue if you want.”

She jerked her hand away with a growl, knowing she'd totally lost that round. Heck, she was losing everything, including her senses.

His hand pressed against her pussy, his skin cool against the heat. Then he stroked the wetness from his fingers onto her thigh. “You're wet,” he whispered. “I will continue.”

How did he do this to her? Men had touched her—many, many men—and rubbed her and—

“Stop thinking,” he growled and bit her neck again, totally derailing her thoughts, and then he slid a finger into her.

She jumped, then gasped when his fingers pinched her breast. Her clit felt as if it had been pumped up like a balloon, and a tremor raced through her. Her control eroding like the sand on the beach, she struggled against him. His forearms kept her in place even as his fingers moved over her breast. Her pussy. He swept her moisture through her folds and up over her clit.

And then one finger rubbed her, stroking gently but firmly in a merciless rhythm. He would stop to spread more wetness and then resume. She could actually feel her climax approach this time, feel her legs quivering and her insides winding up like a spring.

He stopped.

Why? She hadn't come.

He tossed the sides of her blanket back, and the cool air swept over her. Apparently he'd gotten bored, she decided, with relief—and disappointment as her clit pulsed with each beat of her heart. “Well, we should go in,” she said. She leaned forward, and he yanked her back against his chest so fast, her breath huffed out.

“Stay still, sub.”

At his growled command, her body froze, although her heart rate increased.

And then he used his fingers to do exactly the same thing all over again, bringing her right to the top. And stopping.

And again. The next time he stopped, she couldn't smother her moan. He was deliberately torturing her. “Why?”

His hands stroked over her, and everything he did seemed to make her need to come worse. Her clit felt as if it contained all the blood in her body, stabbing with need.

“There's only one way for you to get relief,” he murmured. “You're sitting on it.”

She realized her bottom pressed against a very erect cock, and she tried to edge away. “No,” she whispered. “I won't.”

“That's all right, pet,” he said. “I enjoy touching you so much that I can keep this up all night.” His fingers slid down to cup her pussy, grazing over her clit. Her hips surged up, trying for more, and his hand moved away.

Fine. Surely I can do this myself. She slid her hand down to her pussy.

A ruthless grip closed around her wrist, pulled her hand away. “My toy, not yours,” Alex growled.

A minute later he resumed tormenting her, and her arousal surged higher this time, the frustration increasing her need to painful levels.

When he stopped again, she couldn't stand it anymore. She needed…needed so badly to come. Could she actually have sex with him? Alex wasn't a john. Maybe she could let him take her. “All right. Just do it.”

“No, little sub.” He took his hands off her, and she whimpered. “You will do it.” He waited.

Her body felt stiff as she turned to face him and knelt between his legs. The swollen folds between her legs throbbed, and the wetness there chilled in the breeze. With shaking fingers, she undid his belt, then his slacks. No underwear. Released, his cock bobbed out, a heavy, thick weapon that men used—

“MacKensie.” His hand tilted her head up to meet his gaze. Moonlight fell across his stern jaw. His eyes were dark with shadows but level, not crazy with lust. “Go at your own pace, not mine.”

She bit her lip, and his thumb rubbed her chin. He didn't grab her hips and try to shove himself into… His fingers brushed over her clit, and she gasped, fire bursting within her again. She looked at his cock again. “If I put it in, and you get off, then you'll let me finish?”

His eyes narrowed as he studied her face. He sighed and touched a finger to her chin. “Yes, sweetheart. If you put it in, then it will be my pleasure to give you a mind-blowing orgasm.”

She shuddered as her pussy clenched. “All right.” She could do this. She'd done it so many times before, even if unwilling. But Alex wasn't a john, hadn't given her money, didn't want anything. She moved up to straddle him and eased down until his cock pressed against her opening.

Pushing, ramming, hurting. Her chest tightened until she couldn't breathe. Her ears rang, and she tried to jump off. “Red! Red, red, red—”

Powerful hands closed on her arms. “MacKensie, look at me.”

She blinked, then focused on him.

He smiled slightly, and he released her, settling his hands back behind his head. Where they had been when she lost it. His voice held the same gentleness she used with frightened pets. “I'm not touching you, sweetheart. I want you, but at your speed. You can quit anytime.”

“Uh.” The only one touching anybody was her, and she was definitely touching him—her fingernails were embedded in his shoulders. She pulled her hands away. “Sorry.”

“Hang on to me all you want.”

She sighed, all too aware of how her pussy hovered above his cock. Honestly, MacKensie, you gave yourself a panic attack. He hadn't done a thing. She shook herself mentally. Frak me, but I'll be damned if I live in fear.

She gritted her teeth, and—before she could chicken out—she grabbed his cock and slammed herself down on it. “Aaah!” It felt like she'd jammed a boot inside her. Her hands clamped onto his shoulders as she shuddered at the shock.

He chuckled, the bastard, and slid his hands up and down her arms. “Never do things in a half-assed fashion, do you, little sub?”

Her breath slid out and back in as the painful fullness eased. Some. He had a damned big cock. “Now what?” she asked as if she'd never ridden a man's cock before. Her legs quivered when she tried to lift.

“What do you want to do?” he asked as if they were having a conversation, not in the middle of having sex. He didn't yank at her or try to move her. He just lay there, waiting for her. As he'd promised.

“Um.”

As she dithered, his hands left her arms to stroke up and down her bare thighs, going a little higher each time, until his thumbs almost grazed her center. Her vagina clenched, and oh, it felt…awesome. Having him inside her made every sensation more intense, like using fluorescent markers instead of crayons. She flattened her hands on his chest for balance and lifted up just a fraction. Frak, but the feeling of him sliding inside her was almost as wonderful as when he touched her clit.

She glanced up at him, knowing she must look a sweaty, awful sight, but he was smiling at her in an odd way. Like…like when a child had burst into the office to show off her starred report card and her mother had smiled in just that way. Tender. Proud.

Her breath hitched, and for some strange reason, her eyes burned.

He never moved. Just waited.

She blinked, breathed, gathered her scattered thoughts. Sex. We're having sex here, MacKensie. Get with the program. Holding her breath, she daringly rose up farther, then eased back. How could a vagina that had never felt anything before suddenly be so excruciatingly sensitive? Up, down. Her clit throbbed, and everything around his cock started to throb too. Up, down. Faster.

Their joining made squishy sounds, sounds she'd always thought were gross, flesh on flesh. Now even the sounds were exciting. Alex was inside her.

She increased the pace, and her need increased. But nothing quite worked. Her climax seemed just out of reach. She whimpered in frustration. “I don't know how…”

“Let me help, sweetheart.” And rather than pounding into her like she had expected, he moved just his hand. His fingers slid to the juncture of their bodies, and the next time she came down, he stroked her pussy. Her whole body went rigid. She groaned and went up and down again, and his finger slid across her clit, pressing against it. The sensations from inside her expanded, joined with those from her clit, and suddenly she screamed as everything, everything inside her burst, spasming through her in heart-stopping pleasure so brilliant, the moon faded.

She barely moved, and another wave crashed through her. And another. Her heart had somehow lodged high in her chest, pounding so intensely, it hurt.

Finally she dropped down onto him, a quivering mess, still jerking with the aftershocks. “I… God…” she managed to whisper, feeling as if the world had edged sideways, as if reality itself had changed.

When his arms came around her, she almost cried at the sense of being anchored. He stroked her hair and murmured, “That had to be one of the bravest things I've ever seen, little vet. I'm proud of you.”

It came again, that fuzzy feeling inside just from his words and his deep voice. She rubbed her cheek against him. He was proud of her.

So was she, come to think of it. I had sex. Real sex with a man.

A few minutes later, a cramp in her legs caught her by surprise. She started to move…and froze. He was still inside her and still completely erect. What have I done? She sat up quickly and moaned at the amazing sensation as her weight drove him deeper inside her. “Oh frak, I'm sorry. Sorry. You didn't get off, and I did. I'm sorry.”

A long sigh. “MacKensie, much as men don't like to share this fact, we rarely die from not getting off.”

“But…”

He looked up at her, a little exasperated, a little amused. Not a trace of anger, although she could feel the way his cock pulsed inside her.

“Don't you want to?” she whispered. He didn't want her? The sense of rejection grayed some of her elation.

Those hard hands closed on her arms again. “Little sub, I would be more than delighted to roll you over and take you, here and now. But not if you aren't ready.”

She frowned. He'd been inside her for…for a long time. Her johns had usually erupted within minutes, if not seconds. “Couldn't you…? Why didn't you…come before? Before I did?”

He chuckled. “That would defeat the purpose, now wouldn't it? And I didn't want anything to divert you. Little cat, don't worry a—”

“Then take me,” she said recklessly. So many others had. How could she deny this one person who actually cared about her? Who'd given her a real, actual orgasm. Her insides still quivered. “However you want.”

He cupped her cheek. “Sugar, I… You do realize that I would have to move to get off?”

Do I realize? If he only knew. The laugh that rose into her chest felt almost hysterical, and she smothered it. Grunting and sloppy, heaving and pushing, battering at her… Her hands tightened on his shirt. “I realize. Do it.”

He studied her again, and she tried to hide how her mind kept screaming, No no no. “All right, then,” he said. “I think perhaps we'd best get this behind us, or you'll keep worrying about it.” His hands rubbed her legs, and she could feel the way her muscles shook. “I would have preferred you on top”—when he grinned, the lack of lust in his face, the humor in his eyes, relieved her immensely—“but your legs aren't going to hold you up, are they?”

And just like that, he pushed her off him, his cock leaving her body, leaving her empty. “Uhhh.” The sound was almost a whine and had come from her. But she didn't have time to think before he'd slid her down onto the blanket and on her back. Such a vulnerable position, she realized as he loomed over her. Her hands fisted.

I can do this. No retreat, no surrender.

Chapter Thirteen

He hadn't planned to go this far yet, but she'd mustered her courage, and to throw her gesture away would be wrong. Alex frowned at how her little hands had fisted. Perhaps a diversion would give her something else to concentrate on. Her fear of men appeared separate from her enjoyment of being dominated. “MacKensie, give me your wrists.”

With a quizzical look, she complied. He pulled the Velcro cuffs from under the log, shook the sand off, and fastened them to her wrists.

“Alex?” She moved her arms. Her eyes widened when the chains attached to the cuffs erupted from the sand.

Smiling, he grasped her waist and slid her down the blanket until the chains pulled her arms over her head.

“I didn't say you could do this,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Little sub, I didn't ask.” When he attached cuffs to her ankles and took up the slack in the chains running to the stakes hidden in the sand, she watched him with big eyes. He ran a finger under each of the cuffs to ensure her circulation wasn't compromised, then sat back on his heels and enjoyed the sight of his restrained submissive.

Her pale, pale skin glowed in the moonlight. Her breasts sat high on her chest, nipples jutting upward, reassuring him that the restraints had given her more arousal than fear. The curly hair between her legs glistened in the light, and when he set his hand there, her quick inhalation was louder than the sound of the waves. He slid his fingers along her folds, circled her clit, and watched the flush rise in her cheeks. Her pussy had softened after her orgasm, but as he continued, the little nub under his fingers swelled with blood. He'd learned from their playtime at the club that she had a sensitive clit, and stroking the sides worked better than on top.

Playing with the very edge of the hood could make her whine. Hearing that sound again… Hell. Unable to resist, he went down on her. A woman with her legs chained open presented an overwhelming temptation to get closer, to breathe in the scent of her arousal, to taste her juices. And torture her until she whimpered.

He laid his tongue directly on that tender clit and heard the thin whine rise higher. He flicked the edges, did a few circles, and then gently pulled her labia apart and the hood up. The pearl of sensation—damned good term.

Her legs shook when the cool air hit the protected nub, and he could feel her muscles tense. He flicked the edges of the button ever so lightly until her breathing turned ragged.

He could get her off again. No, he had better not push her further. She'd wanted to gift him with herself, and if she panicked now, it would be a step back. Besides, he very much wanted to bury himself deep inside her. He sat up, enjoying her frustrated whimper. Her climax was just a flick or two away.

Watching her face, he positioned himself and pressed in, a hell of a lot slower than she'd done it. Her pussy, hot and wet, stretched around him as he filled her.

If her fear hadn't hit, she'd have climaxed with his entry. But they had time. He propped himself up with one arm and took her lips in a teasing kiss. Her eyes looked a little wild, so he reminded her she had other worries than his cock. “Did I get the chains too tight?”

Her breath caught, and she jerked her arms, her legs. She was well pinned, and he could feel the way her pussy constricted around him at the knowledge. The purely submissive response fed his Dom nature like raw meat tossed to a wolf.

“You know, I like your legs tied open, little sub; I can lick you, and you can't stop me.” Her vagina gave an involuntary twitch, but her eyes still had terror lurking in the back.

He slid his hand under her ass. “Maybe next time I spank you, I'll tie you down first.” He squeezed the tender skin where his hand had struck. Her hips jolted up, pushing him deeper inside her, and her moan of pain held the husky note of arousal. This time, when he looked into her eyes, no terror showed.

Now she was ready. Smiling, he pulled back and then drove into her. Her instinctive reaction—fear—made her yank on the restraints, and as that diverted her, he rocked in and out, harder and faster.

She felt like the finest of dreams, enclosing his cock in hot satin, smooth and slick. Too damn good. Now that he'd released the control he'd kept over his need, he wouldn't last long. Damned if he wouldn't make her go over with him. Abandoning her ass, he ran his hands over her breasts, reminding her she had other sensitive body parts. Each pinch on a nipple made her pussy contract. He wet his fingers, sliding them over her clit until it stiffened.

Capturing it between thumb and index finger, he rubbed, then pinched it gently with each of his strokes.

“Not again,” she whimpered.

He felt her body shift from the “this is fun and exciting” into the “God, I need to come” stage, and her hips rocked against his as she tried to hurry his thrusts, push against his fingers.

She squeezed around him, thigh and stomach muscles quivering. She was right on the edge. He shifted to the hard, fast strokes that would take him with her, angling to hit her G-spot with every couple of thrusts. When he slid a finger directly over her clit and rubbed, her whole body went rigid.

One thrust, another, and then her head tilted back, neck cords standing out as her climax burst over her. Her short, jerky cries coincided with the forceful, milking convulsions that sucked his cock like a vacuum pump and then yanked him right over the top. His climax started at his feet, squeezed his balls like a vise, and finally erupted from his cock in such brutal spasms that his eyes went blind.

His arms almost buckled as he blinked and shook his head experimentally—no, it hadn't exploded. He looked down at the little sub underneath him.

Her eyes were glazed.

“Little cat,” he murmured, resting his forehead against hers. Just that tiny movement tightened her pussy around him, and he actually jerked a couple more times. This woman could be the death of him.

Reaching over her head, he ripped the Velcro cuffs off and released her wrists. She lowered her hands, hesitated, and then wrapped her arms around him. Good. Propping himself up with one hand, he nuzzled her neck, then kissed her long and deep as he stroked her face, her breasts, her waist. Women needed closeness after sex—any man soon learned that—and this little sub would need it more than most.

Not that he considered having his hands on her any hardship. The need to touch her and keep her close was stronger than he'd felt with any woman. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You have a generous heart.”

“I think I owe the thanks,” she whispered, and he could hear the quiver in her voice. “You got me off…twice. Even though this last time was supposed to be just for you.”

He snorted. “Little sub, you have a lot to learn about sex.” And she needed more holding than this position allowed. “Brace yourself,” he warned and smiled at her confused look until he pulled out of her. At the loss of his cock, she mewed in unhappiness, pleasing him immensely.

After releasing her legs, he lay down beside her and pulled her up against him. Her head fit into the hollow of his shoulder as if designed for that purpose. He kept her pinned against him with one arm and let his other hand roam over the muscles of her back, the sweet place where her waist curved in, the tiny dents just above her buttocks, the perfect curve of her ass.

A wiggle and whimper reminded him of the tenderness of that ass, probably still reddened from his hand.

He chuckled. “Sorry. I forgot.” The growl she gave in response sounded like a kitten wanting to be a tiger and proved the final straw for him.

This one, here in his arms—she was a keeper.

* * * * *

Mac had achieved an orgasm with a man inside her. Just like a normal woman. She stared into the blackness of the beach-house bedroom and just marveled. However this change in her had happened, she liked it. Liked it a lot. Why Alex could get past her defenses when no one else had, she didn't know.

Was it because he'd spanked her…twice now? She had to admit that she felt…accepted by him, even with all her weirdnesses. She smiled in the darkness; he surrounded her even in sleep. He'd curled his big body around her, pulling her shoulders against his chest. Her head rested on his right arm. His other arm held her against him. His hand cupped around her breast.

She should find the position terrifying and his hand too intimate, but she didn't. It felt comforting. Not that he'd given her a choice. He'd simply lain down beside her, rolled her over, and yanked her into his arms.

He'd done that all evening, hadn't he? Dominated her; oh, that was definitely the word. Including that spanking. As she'd thought about the evening, she'd realized that he'd planned the whole thing. The other Doms had deliberately pushed her into disobeying him, and she'd fallen right into his trap.

Date: 2014-12-29; view: 720