Chapter Twelve
Jake prided himself in waking quickly, since it was an asset in the field, but for some reason, he didn’t want to. He was having one hell of an erotic dream, one filled with no images. Only sensations and those were fucking awesome. His skin tingled as if it had a life of its own, his flesh hot, damp, especially around his cock, which had to be hard, because his balls ached. Damn, his dick was throbbing, insistent. Way, way too hard. It also felt…wet.
The spy inside him struggled to reach for his gun, his sixth sense thinking he was in danger, because why would his cock be hard and wet if he was asleep? But the man in him didn’t give two shits if he died. If he was on his way out, he was going happy, especially since his balls tightened on a growing orgasm the size of Texas.
He woke enough to open one eye. Tia was curled at his hip, her mouth on his cock, her hand on the shaft, stroking him. Jesus, so beautiful. He opened the other eye and sank his hands in her hair, his breathing suddenly twice as ragged. Oh, yeah, he would die very happy.
“Good morning,” she said huskily after releasing his cock from her sweet mouth, not looking up at him. She returned to her task at hand, literally, and stroked him vigorously. “I thought I’d surprise you with a wedding gift of my own.”
Jake frowned. She wasn’t supposed to be happy, was she? He didn’t think so, but the pleasure kept him from remembering, and suddenly her mouth returned to work, sucking him harder, deeper, her tongue swirling around the head when she paused on an upstroke.
“Why don’t you come ride me? I still owe you a ride,” he offered, tugging at her hair, though he wanted her to just keep sucking. Too damned good, her mouth too damned hot.
She released him. “I’m good.”
Her tongue ran down his shaft, and she sucked at his sac, her tongue running over first one tight ball, then the other. He drew in a very deep breath, rammed his heels into the mattress and his ass clenched. Think, think of something other than her wicked mouth. The crib. Babies had a way of staving off an orgasm.
He wanted to come inside a different damp heat. “You sure? I’m behind on your wedding gift.”
“Shh. Just enjoy my gift.”
And then she slipped a lubed finger into his ass. He arched off the bed, his cock so deep in her throat. God, the sensation. It was tight, it burned, and was so fucking good that when she sucked him hard and fast, his orgasm took him by surprise.
He pumped into her mouth a few times before he shot into the back of her throat, groaning her name, a load so massive that a part of him not drowning in pleasure worried she’d be unable to swallow. But swallow she did, lapping him clean, caressing his balls.
When she was done, he dragged her up his boneless body to kiss her.
“Best gift ever,” he whispered and slanted his lips across hers, the taste of his essence on her mouth and tongue almost an aphrodisiac. If he hadn’t come like a madman, he’d be hard again. But he had and, instead, he floated like a jellyfish bobbing on the waves of the best high. “Give me a bit, and I’ll take care of you,” he promised as he drew her close into his boneless arms.
She dropped a kiss to his lips and slipped away. “If I come, I won’t want to run.”
He got that. There was no way he was walking anywhere, never mind running. He opened one eye again to see her dressing, tugging on shorts and underwear—he wanted to veto that, but whatever. She could take them off when she got back. Shorts up the ass when you ran had to be uncomfortable. Her bra went on next, and she tossed his shirt onto the rocking chair.
“I’m sorry I got back so late.”
She smiled that serene smile of hers as she put on deodorant. “It’s okay. I kept busy. And I was very tired. We had quite the day yesterday.”
Yes, they had. He floated a little lower, the high lessening as he listened to how she spoke instead of what she said. “You want to ride Jessa later?”
She picked up her running shoes and smiled as she sat in the rocking chair. “Whatever you wish.”
He frowned, the fog in his brain almost clear enough to remember why that phrase pissed the hell out of him. “I want to give you five orgasms today. I’m way behind.”
She finished with her shoes, rose, and kissed his lips softly. “Whatever you wish.”
And then she was gone, leaving behind a haze of floral musk for him to feel puzzled in.
With a jolt, he saw the image of her wrapped in his T-shirt, the picture in her hand. He jumped up but she flashed by the window, already halfway down the driveway, her loose curls bouncing down her back in a high ponytail. Running.
That’s what his gift had been about. Suck him off and then run, so she didn’t have to be put in a position to give him anything. Yeah, the blowjob was a gift, and he had received the best orgasm, but she remained safe, no power exchanged, no feelings hurt. Nothing risked. She had no right to be pissed at him. He’d never lied about Kate, and he needed to talk to her about what she’d found. But she was gone.
It was as if they’d never said vows in the first place.
Jake rose, feeling cold, maybe a little used. He was too much guy to give into that feeling, though. He shrugged on running clothes and went to the basement to pound out his own mileage on the treadmill. Halfway in, he decided to continue with his vow from the night before. He’d make her surrender, but she wouldn’t run. She wouldn’t be able to hide. And he’d make her give him everything before she erupted into a ball of orgasmic flames in his hands.
He grinned and ran harder. He had a lot to do before the sun set.
****
Saturday evening after dinner, they sat in the kitchen, Jake at the head of the table with a deck of cards. Tia gave him a wary look, because a spy with cards was never a good sign. Especially one who lied, charmed, and oozed sex appeal like Jake did.
Tia had spent the day avoiding him without looking like she was doing so. He greeted her in the kitchen with a hot kiss when she returned from her run, whispering of orgasms. She had begged off, her mind wanting a shower while the rest of her wanted nothing more than to lose herself in his arms. Later, he’d cornered her in the barn with another hot kiss as she brushed Jessa, and she’d swatted him, telling him his horse needed exercise, not her.
He’d backed her against the counter after lunch and whispered that his tree was lonely, and wanted entertainment like they’d given it before. She showed him the beads she was stringing, telling him they wouldn’t enjoy the trip outside.
Finally, Jake had gone outside alone, only because she promised to join him there when she was done stringing. But she had no intention of showing up, even though that’s all she wanted. She wanted Jake, pure and simple. But she’d be strong and hold out as long as possible. The less contact she had with him, the safer her heart.
Eventually, she’d have to put out again. Blowing him this morning had been a great idea, one she enjoyed as much as he did, which hurt a little. She stuffed that pain away, though, making a little cell in the corner of the maze, on the opposite side of her heart. The cell was made of those pictures of Kate, the garter a door pull. Pain would be happy there until she had the time to grieve Jake’s loss properly on Monday.
Now, Tia sat at the table, staring at that deck of cards, and realized the corner she’d been backed into would have strip something—like poker—as entertainment, and there was absolutely no way out without facing him about what she’d found in his bedroom. It was the same old fight, one that would end with her saying whatever you wish and she’d somehow end up deeper in wedding something. She didn’t want to face that, not now.
Strip something with someone as hot as Jake would not be easy on her libido. Strip something meant she’d end up in bed or against a counter, on the couch, anywhere, because the ache in her core would demand he satisfy her. She was tough, she reminded herself. She could handle anything he had to give, as long as he played somewhat fair.
Jake shuffled the cards and she frowned. Jake probably wouldn’t play fair, but he would have no clue that she’d barricaded the maze around her heart with some newfound bravery and steel resolve. She had one more day to suffer, and then she’d be safe.
Jake still shuffled, cocking his head at her, the sexual tension between them definitely raw, definitely thick, just the way he liked his prime rib. She watched those cards as he set the deck down before her and tapped the top one.
“Look at the top card. Don’t tell me what it is, but I want you to remember that for later.”
“Okay.” Let the mind games begin. Tia looked—queen of hearts. How lovely. She frowned. “Can I have a different one?”
“No.” Jake shuffled the deck with easy expertise, those long fingers of his quick, just as they’d been when giving her pleasure. He leaned back in his chair, ready to deal. “Twenty-one or poker?”
“I would have thought you’d want to play strip whatever.”
“The stripping part is a given.” He gave her a very naughty grin. “Choose.”
Though she could bluff with the best of them, a battle of cons and lies was not what she wanted to play with him. “Twenty-one.”
He dealt her cards, and she looked at the one down—a four—and compared it to the one up—another four. “Hit me.”
He tossed her another as he assessed her from his side of the table, about as easy to read as Chase at this point. “If you go over twenty-one, you owe me something good.”
She gave him a dirty look. Nice try, cowboy. “If I go over, I lose a piece of clothing. I’m not wearing much to begin with.”
“House rules.”
Such a jerk. “Your house did not make that rule. I know for a fact the house wouldn’t do that.”
“No?”
“The house is cruel, but not vindictive. Did you and Chase play twenty-one when he came home with you? What about you and your brothers?”
He narrowed his gaze and set his jaw in his stubborn way. “I’m not backing down.”
Definitely a jerk, but the hint of steel in his voice called to her lust. She loved that stern voice. “Fine. If you go over, you owe me something as well.”
“Fine.”
She peeked at her card—another four. She had a better chance of getting closer to twenty-one than she did of getting a ten. “Hit me.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. Shut up and give me a card.”
He shrugged and tossed her a card. She peeked again. A ten. Fuck.
“Well, well, look at this. I have…” He flipped the cards and gave her that smug, sexy smile of his. “Twenty-one.”
Of course, he did, because he was a smug bastard. “I hate you.”
“You went over, didn’t you? I warned you.” He shook his head and tsk-tsked. His gaze went from the cards on the table to her lips and then her breasts. Everything in that area flushed beet-red, her nipples puckering in invitation. “You have to kiss me and ditch the shirt.”
She kicked off her shoes in his direction, smirking as one collided with his leg. He ignored her, and she glared. “I’ll ditch what I want, and I’m not paying for going over. Chase didn’t have to.”
“Oh, he paid,” Jake drawled as he shuffled again.
“How?” She didn’t believe him, not one bit. So full of shit, this man was. He needed to muck his brain out.
“Shots. Of tequila.”
“I thought the house didn’t do liquor?”
He shuffled, making a fancy bridge with the cards. “The house isn’t cruel, as you think. If you can’t have sex, it will let you have booze. I had a whopping whiskey and cola last night.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring the dig that he didn’t get what he considered his allotted serving of sex. He thought he had all the answers. “I thought Chase didn’t drink.”
“It wasn’t a long game. Trust me.” He dealt another hand, and this time, she stayed at nineteen. He got twenty.
“You’ve got to be cheating.” She grabbed the deck from him and inspected the cards, then glared. The smug bastard was suspiciously innocent-looking. She slapped the deck back on the table. “They don’t look marked.”
He shrugged, revealing nothing. “I’m good at this.”
“Smug bastard.” But she chucked her socks at him.
He grinned smugly and dealt her another hand, and she went over by two. He had eighteen. “Shirt?”
She smiled slowly and pulled her arms out of her shirt sleeves. One bra strap slid down, then the other, under her shirt. Then she unsnapped the front clasp and put her shirt sleeves back on her arms. She chucked her bra, and it hit him in the face. “How’s that?”
He fondled the silky material that had bound her breasts moments before, and said softly, “You went over, though.”
“So?”
“You owe me something.”
Ugh. She was running out of resistance, and the inner clock ticked away the time until she gave up and just did him. But the idea of owing something special gave her a naughty thrill, one that didn’t help her plan to stay celibate. “What, then?”
“Go in the other room and find my book for me?”
She blinked, baffled. “That’s it? You don’t want me to kiss you or strip or blow you? You want your book?”
“I want my book.” He nodded and shuffled the cards, looking very contrite. He wore the expression too well, like a second skin. “Please.”
“You’re insane.” But this was easy, and it meant she would last a bit longer before her mind just gave up and she fucked him. She got up and went to the living room, skirting the sofa. “It’s not here.”
“Look harder.”
She bent and shuffled the stack of books on the coffee table.
“Well, well. What do I have here? An international spy in my house?”
She froze as she picked up a book she’d dropped on the floor. Jake didn’t role play spies. He’d once said it was too much like work. But hearing international spy, the code they’d once discussed, sent fear slicing through her veins, his tone deep, menacing. All business.
She swallowed that fear and looked up. He stood in the doorway, the floral sofa between them. Jake was every bit as sinister looking as he sounded. Shoulders squared, tense, feet set so he could spring—a golden mountain lion, waiting for prey. Her.
She rose, wary. Somehow, playing this in his home instead of the safety of the club felt like jumping from a plane without a parachute. She wet her bottom lip with her tongue, her thong immediately soaked because this would be sex she could handle. Not that wedding sex nonsense. Hardcore, kinky sex that would be easy. Emotionless. Pleasurable. Jake would make her come, which would make it even better. “I’m just looking for your book, like you asked.”
“Sure you are.”
He stalked closer, and she went around the sofa the opposite way. Oh, he was excited, his pupils large, his breathing just a touch ragged. But damn, he was one big guy. It was nice that he was tall when she was in heels. Muscles were great when you were caressing them. Now, she wasn’t so sure about either. Her division didn’t train as hard as Jake’s. He’d know a hell of a lot more than she did about fighting. Unless he made a huge mistake, she was his.
She shifted left. He followed, his eyes glittering. She swallowed, her heart hammering in her chest. His answering grin was icy cold.
“I don’t have anything that you want.”
“Sure,” he said again. His smile was calculating as he tipped his head to one side in question. “Can you take me? I’m a lot bigger than you.”
He was bigger, but was he faster? “I took you down once.”
“I had no warning.”
“You don’t get a lot of warnings in life.” Two doors to freedom. She could dash to the spare room down the hall, but he was closer to that door. The other led into the kitchen and out the back door. If she made it to the yard, she’d be his. He was faster on the long stretch. She could hit the stairs in the kitchen and lock herself in the bathroom or bedroom. She swallowed again, her breathing ratcheting up a notch, because the danger he exuded called to her lust. Did she really want to run?
“Kate can take me down, you know.” Jake took a step closer. “You may think Kate is all ponies and rainbows, but she’s one tough cookie.”
“Bastard,” she said on a snarl, hating him as she sprinted left. He grabbed her at the end of the couch and she brought her knee up, hard, into his groin.
He sucked in a breath and doubled over, releasing her, giving her time to flee. She raced out the side door, up the stairs, taking them two at a time, stumbling at the top. She caught her balance, glanced behind her, and slammed full force into his hard chest.
“Bad move on your part,” he whispered in her ear. He grabbed both of her hands and wrenched them behind her back, not the least bit gentle. But the kiss on her neck was soft, spiking her lust. “Would you really have gone up the stairs if this were real? Or do you just want to be closer to the bed so I can fuck you until you give me what I want? Because honey, I’m going to fuck you hard.”
That voice, so dirty… She kicked at his shins, and he held her wrists firmer with one hand. From his back pocket he extracted a roll of black bondage tape, and in two wraps around her wrists, she was his. She struggled. He laughed as he picked her up by the legs and held her upside down, over his shoulder. She kicked her feet against his chest, and he smacked her hard on the ass and walked into the bedroom.
“Damn it. Let me go. I won’t tell you anything.”
“Sure you will.” He dumped her on the bed, stripped of bedding except the bottom sheet. “I’m much better at this than you are.” He stared at her for a long moment. “What card did I give you?”
That’s what this was about? The card? He thought he was better? Game on, buddy. “You’ve got the wrong girl.”
“Oh, you’re the right girl. Very right.” He grabbed the back of her head by her hair and held her still as he kissed her, his tongue sweeping once, twice inside her mouth. Her core throbbed in time with each stroke of his tongue, jealous he kissed her there instead of other places. He straddled her waist and lowered his weight, the hard length of his cock insistent through the material of his jeans, pushing into her stomach. “You can fight all you want. I outweigh you.”
“Do what you want. I won’t tell you.”
“Sure you will.” He took her wedding knife from his front pocket and sliced the tape. “See, your knife comes in handy.” His hands were a blur as he wrapped her wrists together with rope and then secured the other end to the bed. The whole movement was done in a blink of an eye, and she stared at him, amazed at his skill with a rope.
“How did you do that?” And then she realized she was breaking role. “Not that I give a shit. I’m not telling you a thing.”
“Impressed with your captor’s skills?” He gave a sharp laugh. “It’s part of my cowboy training. A love of knots and rope comes in handy, doesn’t it?” He swung around to straddle her the other way. She kicked her feet, and he pinned her harder, wrapping first one ankle to a spreader bar of sorts, then the other. He dismounted and stood at the end of the bed, surveying his handiwork. “See, I captured you and didn’t even have to knock you out. Much nicer for you. I had a headache all weekend.”
“Good.” But that made her feel a little bad. She hadn’t wanted him to hurt.
He arched a brow. “Card?”
“Do your worst.”
“I plan on doing my best.” He took the knife out again and slid it up under the hem of her shirt, the backside of the blade cold on her stomach. He made a slice in the material and then used his hands to rip it up the front. He bent down and sucked her nipple, then the other. She bit back a moan.
“Let’s see what you have on under here.” He lifted her skirt and shook his head at her thong. He removed the knife again and slit through the side strings. “Do it again, and I punish you.”
Oh, that voice. Her insides melted to molten lava that dripped into her core. She wanted his punishment badly.
“Bad spies deserve blindfolds.”
He pulled a blue bandana from his pocket and tied it around her head, sinking her into darkness. Her senses went on high alert. His training made him eerily silent, but she heard little sounds that clued her in. A match hissed, and she smelled sulfur, then hot wax. Lube made a distinct squirting noise as it shot from the tube onto God only knew what. He rustled in something. He undressed, the zipper loud on his jeans, the material rough as he slid them down. She’d never heard his shirt.
She smelled him first, a mix of clean, manly scents, then the bed groaned under his weight. The anticipation was heady. What would he do first? Hot wax, she hoped. Oh, she loved that. Or maybe he had a crop from the barn—
“So, how’s your weekend so far?”
Was he serious? He was going to talk her into submission? “Red!”
The bed shifted hard. “What?”
“You call yourself a Dom? I am not doing pansy, vanilla bondage. Jesus. Just shoot me now.” She actually wanted him to fuck her now, but she’d be damned if she’d tell him that.
“You’re my captive, so I’ll interrogate you the way I want. You bound me, but you didn’t bother to ask anything. It’s my turn.”
Fucking pansy. “This is not how we do things.”
“Answer the questions or give me the card.” She didn’t have to see him to know his jaw was set. She could hear it in the way his teeth clenched.
“I don’t have to give you anything.”
“Then fine. I’ll go downstairs and have a big ole whiskey and cola.” He climbed off the bed. “Maybe two.”
Tia struggled in her restraints. If Jake went downstairs and had a drink, that meant he couldn’t have sex. House rules. If he didn’t get sex… “You can’t leave me tied up and horny! That’s borderline abusive. And irresponsible. What if the house burns down?”
“I’m not going to the movies. I’m going downstairs. I’ll blow the candles out. Scream when you’re ready.”
She hated him. He made it two loud steps before she screamed, “Jake!”
He returned, his heat so close to her that she shivered. “Still think I’ve gone pansy on you? You want to play, honey? Because I can’t wait to fuck you into submission.”
“Green.” No, he wasn’t a pansy. He’d found a new button to push and dread loomed with lust just as hot and heavy as he did over her. “My weekend has been fine so far.”
“That’s good.” He ran a finger up her inner thigh and she jumped. That finger traced a path up to the juncture of her thighs, along the crease just outside her pussy. His breath blew hot across her clit. She struggled, panting. Then his touch was gone. “Do you enjoy sitting under my tree with me?”
“Are you going to question me to death, or are you going to get on with the torture?” Questions should be harmless, but she looked down the mental path he was shoving her and decided a den of hungry lions at the end of it would be much safer.
“Answer me or give me the card,” he demanded, his voice so harsh. Cold. He grabbed her by the hair, his breath hot on her face, smelling of mint. His fingertips caressed her scalp, though. Highly erotic to blend his dominance with elements of his lovemaking. Highly scary.
“I’m not doing either.” No, she couldn’t go there. Too dangerous.
“Whiskey time.” He released her and stomped away, the floor creaking under his weight and angry footfall. Her pussy throbbed with each footstep, and she struggled against her bindings. Damn him.
“No! I’m sorry. Yes, I like to sit under your tree. With you.”
He returned, his hand returned, this time tracing a lazy pattern on her stomach. The flesh quivered under his electric touch. Then his hot mouth kissed the path his finger had taken, the pattern echoed in shock waves.
“Feel good? I can’t wait for you to beg me to fuck you.”
“I won’t.” She was the queen of not begging, not coming. This wasn’t wedding sex, so she had to be fairly safe in assuming she’d enjoy the experience, but he’d be the one in agony. She smiled to herself.
“How did you feel when you married me?” Something sharp wheeled up her inner thigh, and her smile faded. Over her hip and along the plane of her stomach, the spikes too large to be a Wartenberg wheel. The pain mingled with a slight tickle, and it was like there was a live, electric wire in her stomach and every prick strummed that wire, spiking desire higher. She moaned, and the noise shocked her.
“Answer me.”
“I felt you were crazy.”
The thing wheeled down her other side, gently rolling over the top of her clit. She bit her lip on the sweet pain that tugged inside her pussy, zinging up to her nipples, the live wire sparking the shocks higher, deeper. Whatever this was, it felt damned good. Good enough to make the beginnings of an orgasm sit up and take notice. Fuck. She’d never had to fight one before. How did one keep from coming?
His fingers traced a lazy pattern over her mound, occasionally dipping down to nudge her clit. Sinful. He leaned to breathe in her ear, “I forgot to mention, you can’t come. If you come without permission, I’ll go downstairs.”
She didn’t want him to go downstairs. Especially when his finger circled her clit, promising that if she obeyed, her orgasm would be so much better. She licked her lips. “When can I come, then?”
“When you give me the card.” Two fingers gathered her moisture and slid deep inside her cunt, curling upward. “Or when I give you permission. If tell I you to come and you do, the questions will get harder. Deeper.” He shoved his fingers in, as if to accentuate his point. He then dabbed her clit with something ice cold, and she shuddered, her insides clenching around his fingers with desperate need. Damn it, she loved ice. “Do you understand the rules?” he asked.
So deliciously cold, wet. He replaced those two hot fingers in her pussy with two icy ones. Oh, divine. She bit back a moan. “Yes.”
“Why is fellatio on the hard list?”
He must have sucked the ice because his mouth was polar cold on her clit, his icy tongue lapping. She arched, panted, and tried to fight the fog clouding her brain. Almost impossible to answer questions and fight coming at the same time. “It’s not for you, not anymore.”
His fingers pumped into her pussy, and the damned wheel returned, spiking up her thigh, over her clit. “But it was. Why?”
“What is that?” Jesus, just use your mouth for something other than questions, Jake.
“Tonka’s spur. But don’t try to divert me. Answer the question.”
She couldn’t go there, so she gave up, panting. “Two of spades. You win. Fuck me.”
He laughed, and it wasn’t the least bit fun or light. The ice danced down her folds, and whatever it was slid inside her opening. “Oh, honey. What a bad liar.”
Her pussy spasmed around the icy dildo, the cold so painfully good she bit back a scream of pleasure. Blow out, breathe. If she yelled at him, she’d breathe. “I told you the card. Fuck me.”
“No need to shout.”
The icy toy slid in and out, then way in and Jake took her clit in his teeth at the same time. Gah, do not come, do not come…
Jake growled. “You lied. Why is it on the hard list?”
He stopped his torture, and the need to come passed, leaving her panting. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m learning to love you. Learning to love a complex woman calls for complex lessons.” He lifted her hips, arranged her legs, and replaced the dildo with his cock, so hot. She shivered and moaned. He gave three pounding thrusts, his hot body never touching hers except his shaft deep inside, and then he withdrew. “Tell me or I leave.”
He couldn’t leave! She struggled, wanting to run, to hide, to come. To get his erection back inside her. Her thighs quaked, and the shudder continued up her body. She gripped long piece of rope in her fingers, so afraid to speak.
“Tell me why fellatio was a hard limit,” he whispered in her ear, his fingers tweaking her nipple.
“I was forced.”
His hands returned, holding her thighs, and he gave her pussy a long, slow lick, his tongue as deadly as his words. “By whom?”
“My second Dom. It was a punishment when I was bad.”
“Why is it off the hard list for me?”
The icy dildo slid back inside her pussy, and she moaned. “I like doing it for you. You enjoy it. You’ve never forced me. I trust you not to force me.”
“How much do you hurt right now?”
That was easy. “I feel no pain.” Not physical, anyway.
“Liar. Your heart. How much does it hurt? Scale of one to ten.”
Oh, shit. He knew. She shook, hating him, the tape around her heart wrapping tighter. She could almost feel his presence inside her, stepping over the barbed wire, into the dark maze of her mind. “Five.”
“What is the worst thing you’ve done to yourself?
“What?” The coldness thrust in and out of her pussy, the walls spasming, burning, then numbing. God, he had to stop if he didn’t want her to come. “I don’t understand.”
“Sexually. Like Chase did.”
“Chase was as bad as it got. I only did that once.” Wasn’t that bad enough?
“Thank God,” he breathed, sounding so relieved, and she almost didn’t hear him. Did he actually care? No man had ever cared before.
His cock claimed her again, sinking deep enough to bang her clit with his pubic bone. He gave a little twist of his hips, grinding against her, and her orgasm pounded at the door, begging to be released.
Jake stilled and smoothed her damp cheek with his hand. “You can safeword out, honey. If this is getting to be too much for you to bear, just tell me. I want to push you, but not too far.”
Tia licked her lips. It was hard to consider his words when she ached so badly. But a part of her wanted this, needed him to ask these questions, to hold her accountable for her actions. He cared, and it was just as much of an aphrodisiac as the toys he used on her. “Green.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, green.”
He must have untied the rope attached to the bed because he was able to pull her hands down, still secured together, over her head. He kissed her wrists over the faint white scars she knew were there, his mouth like a hot brand on them. “Who cut you?”
“I did.” She sucked in a breath as his hips danced against hers again, thrusting in time to his mouth on her wrists. “He did.”
“The bad Dom?”
“Yes.”
“Did he rape you? Not role play.” His voice changed, then. If she wasn’t blindfolded, she may not have caught it. It was the same tone she’d heard in the kitchen, the one that had protected Chase when she asked about Paris.
Oh, shit, no. Not protective, too. She bit her lip on the ache slashing at her. New pain, because caring had allowed him deep inside the maze she’d constructed in her mind. “Yes.”
“Fisting? Blood play? Needles?”
“Yes.” It hurt so badly to give him that power over her. The trust she felt hurt just as much. She arched again, unsure she could bear a moment more, because as much as this all hurt, she wanted to come so badly. “You know my hard limits. Only blow jobs and stuff with bodily functions.”
“Come for me.”
She came instantly on a tidal wave of pleasure, but it wasn’t satisfying. Her soul wanted more. Wanted her to give him more. Damn her soul, her heart hurt enough.
He flipped her easily, and her face was pressed into the damp, hot sheets, her ass in the air. What would he do? What would he ask? Could she take more?
The lube tube squirted, a foil packed ripped, and he gently probed her ass with the head of his latex-covered cock. God, yes. She’d waited all weekend for this. She struggled to get on her knees to allow him access, but the bar between her legs prevented that easily.
Jake lifted her hips and pushed the head into her ass gently, opening her tight rosette with measured thrusts. The burn was welcomed as her muscles stretched. His fingers tripped up her ribs, his chest a hard wall against her spine. So much better than before. Than ever.
“Did you perform fellatio on Billy?”
She bit the sheet on the note of pain that had nothing to do with his cock in her ass. He hated what she did with her mother’s boyfriend so much he had to be cold, formal about it. So deep in the maze. So close to her heart. She didn’t want to safeword, but he’d never know if she lied… “Ten of diamonds.”
“Not the right card, honey. The deck was marked, by me. I know what you drew.”
Trapped. Beneath him physically, mentally in a corner. She whimpered, afraid. So turned on.
“You think you’re ruthless? I am the biggest conman you have ever met. We’re perfect for each other.” He slammed into her tight hole, slick with his lube. So good. He knew just how to fuck her senseless. She moaned, hating, loving that voice. Hating, loving what he was doing to her mind. “Did you perform fellatio on Billy?”
She fought another orgasm, beating it back with thoughts of Monday as he changed his tempo, fucking her ass slower. “Yes.”
“Did you come?”
His hand slid around to finger her clit, and she shuddered. She wanted to come. But that would mean tougher questions. How could they get much worse? “Not until he fucked me. But I didn’t mind doing it.”
“Did you ask your bad Dom to make that your punishment?”
“Yes.”
“Pain? Scale of one to ten?”
She trembled as she looked inside herself at the poor, taped heart that quivered in the maze. He was in the doorway. So close as she trembled, afraid, aroused. “Nine.”
“Green?”
She shook, and though her mind screamed red, she whispered, “Green.”
“So good.” He kissed her spine and ran his hands along her ribs. “You’re so brave. Just a few more questions.”
She shook, not wanting to come again, the pain in her heart so intense. She hated him. It had to be hate, because as she fought to breathe, her hands fought to choke him. No, maybe it wasn’t hate. Maybe something—
“Will you let another man hurt you after you leave me?”
“Yes.” Yes, and it scared her.
“But isn’t this pain just as divine?” He’d changed to his persuasive voice, a low drawl so sexy in her ear. “Why would you let another man make you bleed, when I can give you this?”
“I—” She licked her lips. “No one has made me hurt like this.”
“Do you like it?”
Like. She liked his cock in her ass. She wasn’t so sure about the other pain. “I don’t know.”
“How will you feel come Monday? When you leave me?”
Jake pinched her clit, and the pleasure almost overtook the pain. She didn’t want to safeword. “Please. Please stop.”
“Answer me.”
“I’ll feel dead on Monday.”
“Pain?”
“Ten.”
“I’m going for an eleven, honey. When you hit eleven, you can come.”
“Please?”
“Just one more question.” Jake stopped thrusting, withdrew from her ass, and rolled her over. She felt him looming, his body so hot, so near, yet so far. Just like the orgasm she held at bay. When would he hold her? All she wanted was to come and have him hold her.
He removed the condom and slid his bare cock into her pussy. So wet, hot. He lowered himself onto her body, pressing his full length against her. She almost sobbed, needing to feel his skin so badly. Then he removed her blindfold, and the soft light of the room was too much to bear. Almost as hard to bear as the turbulent blue depths of his eyes as he stared down at her.
“How do you feel about me?”