Saved by His Submissive Page 6

  Outwardly, he scowled at his beer label and muttered, “It’s complicated.”

  “Shit howdy, Corncob Bob, ya think so?”

  Garrett slammed his foot down. “Look, dickwad, this is partly your fault.”

  Zeke’s posture shot straight up. “What the hell? My fault?”

  “If you hadn’t dragged my ass to Subjugate that night and—”

  Fuck. His mouth had sprinted ahead of his brain. Way ahead. He realized it the same second Zeke did. His friend’s eyebrows shot nearly to his hairline.

  “Okay.” Z drew each syllable out with knowing emphasis. “The puzzle pieces are starting to fit a little better. So this is about that wicked Dominant you keep denying, huh?”

  The stomach sludge roiled with new fury, forcing him to his feet. He grabbed his bottle as he went, hurling it into the trash behind the bar, filling the little room with the crash of shattering glass. “I don’t have a fucking ‘Dominant’ side. And I’m not denying anything!”

  He didn’t look back at Zeke as he wheeled and went back to prowl the main room again. With impeccable timing, the hostess reappeared and motioned him forward. Thank fuck.

  “Yeah,” Zeke called after him, “And I’m the Prince of Persia.”

  Garrett thought of flipping him off, but the urge got mentally back-burnered as he focused on the next hour in store for him—and the bigger challenge of not feeling like a total bastard for it. But he had to figure out this crap inside himself for good. Wait. Screw the “figuring out” part. The demons weren’t getting a friendly chit-chat today. Guys like Zeke were comfortable with their demons. He wasn’t one of those guys. He needed to dynamite this shit back to the darkness from where it came—and no way in hell was Sage getting anywhere near the blast zone.

  The hostess led him up a gold, spiral staircase that ended at the hotel’s third floor. He followed her down a hall with purple velvet wallpaper, softly lit by frosted glass sconces. All the doors were closed. He couldn’t hear a sound, except the tinny house sound system pushing out an aria being sung in one of the European romance languages. Irony deserved a fist bump for that one.

  Finally, the woman stopped and pushed open a door with another serene smile. She motioned him into the room like a game show model showing off a new car. Garrett dipped his head, hoping he looked a gentleman despite feeling everything but, before stepping through.

  Before she shut the door with a quiet click, his dick surged in heightened agony.

  The scene was exactly what he’d asked for. The woman kneeling on the four-poster bed had her head slightly bowed, long honey-colored hair falling over her face. She was nude and blindfolded. Her hands rested against green satin sheets. Fuck, the sheets were a great touch. He and Sage had green satin sheets at home. The color nearly matched her magical, beautiful eyes…

  His cock jumped again, and he grunted from the pressure. The woman reacted with a little shiver. Again, so damn perfect. He approached the bed, stirring the shadows thrown by the candles ignited then positioned on shelves around the room. The only other light in the chamber came from two small gooseneck lamps. One was aimed right at her. The other was bent toward a small table loaded with sinful sexual discipline toys.

  He watched her pretty white teeth sneak out and bite her lower lip. “Oh, yeah,” he rasped. How did she know just how to do it? He closed his eyes, sucked in a rough breath, and let his imagination fall deeper into the fantasy. Giving in to the illusion was the only way his conscience could deal with this.

  He tugged off his boots and shucked his shirt. The woman—his woman, he silently prompted again—surrendered to another shiver. Her areolas tightened and darkened around her pinpointed nipples. Beneath those erect peaks, her lungs hitched on uneven breaths.

  Her nervousness clutched at him. It drew him to crawl onto the mattress and kneel in front of her. He stroked her soft, quivering mouth with the pads of his fingers. As if knowing what he needed, she parted her lips and raised her face.

  “Tell me you want this,” he murmured. “All of it. You’ll get paid either way, beautiful, but I need to know you’ve been told what I need here…what we’re going to do.”

  A sweet, sensual sigh escaped her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please Sir…I want this.”

  He descended his fingers to the place where her jaw joined her throat. “You’re certain? You’ve been told exactly what I want? You’ll completely surrender to me. Your body will be mine. Every move you make, every drop of your arousal, every sigh and scream you give, will be mine to call, and to command.”

  He felt a whimper vibrate in her larynx. She nodded softly, but said nothing.

  “Speak it,” he dictated. “Tell me again.”

  “Yes.” The word was barely a breath. “Yes…please…yes.”

  A responding groan thundered through Garrett, He dipped his head, devouring her mouth in a deep kiss. He rolled their tongues and meshed their breaths while she tunneled both hands to his neck and scratched dual tracks down to his collar bones. The rasps of pain were also perfect. If she needed this half as bad as he, then his control would be an easier burden to bear.

  Without breaking the embrace, he forced her wrists to the small of her back and held them there. The motions flattened their bodies to each other. His beautiful girl moaned, opening her mouth wider for him. Garrett growled. Oh hell fucking yes, this was good. The dream was getting better by the second.

  When the kiss ended, he tugged his eyes open to drink in the sight of her bruised lips, the supplicating tilt of her face, the ripples of fear in her forehead as she wondered what he’d do next. Garrett raised his free hand to trace the edge of her blindfold with his fingers.

  “Your safe word is ‘truth.’” He issued the order in a coarse rasp. “Repeat it to me, beautiful.”

  A pretty smile lifted her mouth. She looked almost like a little girl about to get a trip to the candy store. With the exception that she was naked, blindfolded, and about to be helplessly bound beneath him.

  “Truth.” She rendered the compliance with breathy ease.

  He rewarded her with another long, wet kiss. During it, he shifted both hands to her breasts. He cupped and squeezed the taut swells, rejoicing as her nipples went hard against his fingers. “I’ve missed these,” he said, dragging his thumbnails across the erect tips. “Have they missed me, too?”

  “Yes.”

  He answered her whisper with a pleased growl. “Very nice, sugar. Now give it up a little louder.”

  A heady rush of adrenalin hit him along with the dual twists he gave to her hard peaks. She arched against him, her head jackknifing back, her body tense.

  “Ohhhh!” she shrieked. “Mmmm, yes!”

  “Good girl,” Garrett murmured. “That’s my good, gorgeous girl.” He stroked her reddened nipples, easing her pain, adoring her more for her obedience. She leaned toward him, seeking him out with her hands, which shook in her blind quest for connection to him.

  When her fingers hit the defined ridges of his abdomen, she emitted a gasp of delight. Her pleasure doubled his, but the craving took over again, the demand his system issued for complete power over hers. He slammed his hands atop hers. She didn’t resist his grip. With a grunt, he pressed her fingers down, forming them tight around the throbbing ridge in his khakis.

  “If you want to touch me, fine—but you touch what I tell you to. Right now, that means my cock. Stroke it like you want it, sugar.”

  “Yes,” she said with a readiness equal to her obedience. Her hands groped his sacs, and pulled his khakis tight around his stalk. Garrett endured that for about thirty seconds before unzipping and bursting free into her eager fingers.

  “Fuck.” The word spilled out she grazed his balls with her nails, before stroking her way up his length with perfect pressure. His head fell back. “Holy fuck, Sage! Where’d you learn to do that?”

  She purred softly against his chest as she rounded the hot bulb of his cock head, her fingers teasing, squeezing, caressi
ng. “You’re beautiful, Sir. So wet already…”

  His senses careened. Wait. Why did she sound so different? Why did she seem so certain of what she was doing? So…practiced? What the hell? Dear God, what had she been forced to do during that year of her disappearance, surviving however she could, saying whatever she had to? She sounded like she blended right in around here. No. Hell, no. Unacceptable.

  He had to bring her back to him, damn it, and keep her here—this time for good.

  “I didn’t ask for those words, did I, sugar?” He issued it with low but fierce force, pushing her hands away.

  She dropped her head and fell back. “I am sorry, Sir.”

  While she spoke the contrition, Garrett left the bed and kicked out of his pants. “Don’t be sorry with your words. Be sorry with your body.” As he pivoted and considered the rack of toys, he instructed, “We’ve discussed the rules, haven’t we? You’re mine tonight. Completely. You belong only to me, and you will obey me, Sage.”

  He heard her breath catch. “Y-yes, Sir.”

  “Now, you’ll lay down for your punishment like a good girl. Your lesson is going to be five swats on your spread pussy. My discipline will continue when I fuck the rest of your lesson into you.”

  He heard her breath catch again, though she said nothing else. With measured movements, she moved into place for him. The sound of her limbs sliding against the sheets, eager and acquiescent for him, made his cock swell more. The damn thing was at a parallel angle to the floor. He tried his best to ignore the torment while he considered the choices on the rack, but gave up the effort when his gaze settled on a riding crop that had a custom feature. The leather tongue at the end of the rod had been slit and inset with a handful of longer leather strips, turning the instrument into a mini flogger too. With a swift flick, he tested the toy on his thigh. The swatter delivered a good sting, though the sensation came in two waves, drawing out the heat of the impact. Interesting—and intoxicating. He’d make her scream and squirm with this.

  “Perfect,” he murmured. “Perfect,” he repeated, after turning to the woman who lay there for him. With her golden hair spread against the satin and her body bare except for the blindfold, she was an image of trembling readiness. He was ready, too. No turning back. He would claim her, consume her, conquer her—and never again would he go through the agony of having to let her go again.

  With that resolve, he paced to the side of the bed. Attached to a leather tether was one of the padded wrist cuffs he’d requested. With rapid flicks, he opened the buckle then tilted his head toward the woman. His woman. Always.

  “Arm.” He said it with steady calm, knowing the directive would be heeded. Sure enough, though goose bumps sprouted on her skin, she extended her wrist for the bondage.

  After he cinched in her other wrist, he moved to the end of the bed. When he clutched one of her ankles and dragged it out toward its own cuff, the woman finally broke into a whimper. He went still.

  “Problem, sugar?”

  A deep gulp undulated her throat. “No, Sir.” Her murmur carried an edge of fear, though he looked at her nipples turn darker and tighter. Telltale dew drops appeared on the well-trimmed mound between her legs. Two streams of such different intent, flowing through her body. So mesmerizing. So fascinating. And arousing as hell. Nevertheless, he didn’t move his hand from its firm grip around her ankle.

  “Do you still trust me, beautiful?”

  The query made her shoulders drop and her torso writhe in a sexy melting motion. “Yes, Sir.” Her acquiescence came before a dreamlike sigh. Garrett needed no further encouragement. The fantasy was flowing perfectly.

  “You know we have to do this.” His tone was gentle but his hold commanding as he fastened her ankle inside its cuff. She writhed and shifted through more of the melting thing as he pulled out her other leg, opening her body completely for him. “You know what I need to do here.” The clink of the second buckle coincided with another rush of shimmering cream to her pouting pussy lips. “You know this is necessary. I can’t fuck you if I can’t keep you safe, if I don’t know you won’t disappear again. If I’m not sure—”

  You won’t die again.

  He banished the terror with a determined grunt. She wasn’t going to die. She was here, buckled down for him, so wet and ready for him. Yes. Yes.

  As he ran his hand up her thigh, he confirmed it. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you, Sage?”

  She wriggled again and moaned. “Oh please…yes!”

  Her mouth stayed parted after that, pulling in deep gulps of air to fill her chest, which pumped in frenetic proof of her mounting need. Her fingers pulled at the leather tethers above the wrist restraints. Her legs shook as she tested the limits of the ankle cuffs. Her hips flexed and her ass bunched, joining in an effort to thrust her sex higher for his view. Garrett took his own turn to pause and gulp. She was a mixture of such striking textures. While her muscles flexed in taut frustration, the tender petals of her core bade him closer…closer still…

  With that thought spurring him, Garrett mounted the bed, into the open V between her legs. He rose high on his knees, using the vantage point to drag his stare over every inch of her again. Wherever his gaze touched, he let the crop follow. It wasn’t long before he dragged the leather fronds over the erect ridge of flesh nestled in the center of her glistening sex. She gasped and threw back her head as he swiped her pussy again. More goose bumps dotted her thighs and arms.

  “Now,” he stated, “I want you to tell me how much you want me again—and how you’ll gladly pay the price for my cock.”

  Her entire frame fell prey to another shiver. But she wet her lips and stammered, “Yes, Sir. I do want your hard cock. And I will pay the price for it.”

  “Good girl.” He gave her the praise just before his first whap on the middle of her spread, rosy folds. She yelped from the spank but bit it short the next second, her chin set with the resignation that more were to follow.

  “Again,” Garrett ordered, sliding the crop along the inside of her left thigh. “Say it again.”

  “I want you, Sir.”

  “Perfect.” He brought the flogger down on her mound more gently the second time, making her twist her hips with breathtaking abandon. “You have three more swats to go, sugar. After I give each one, I want you to tell me exactly what you want.” As he finished that, he flung the flogger down again.

  “Ohhh! Y-yes! Please, Sir. I want your cock, Sir.”

  Thwack.

  “You want what?”

  “You! Your cock!”

  Thwack.

  “Ooohhhh!”

  Garrett didn’t let her come down from the adrenalin. He landed the fifth strikes in the middle of her sob, yanking her cry into a screams, and coaxing new juices all over her reddened, sensitive blossom. To make the sight more incredible, the insides of her thighs quivered, shimmering with her aroused perspiration.

  Holy hell. She was spectacular. His cock reared on him in fury. He couldn’t wait to detonate with her. His body already felt like a state fair fireworks finale. For the first time since he was a teenager, he didn’t know if he could contain his orgasm long enough to get inside her. On a ragged breath, he grinded his jaw. He had to make it.

  She gasped, and he marveled at the sight of her pulse beating in her neck. He tossed the crop aside in order to lean over and slide two fingers along that hammering artery. Her heartbeat sped up at his contact. Incredible heat surged through him. Goddamn. This was what pure power felt like. No wondered the high could corrupt some men. He didn’t feel corrupted. He was floored. Humbled. Grateful.

  “Mine,” he whispered before replacing his fingers with his lips. “You’re mine, Sage, and I’m never letting you go again.”

  Her throat constricted, as if choking off a tight sound, maybe even a sob. “You…have such a vast heart.” She choked it as if realizing it for the first time.

  Garrett reared his head back and gazed at her. “No,” he ordered. “No mo
re sadness. We’ve both had too much sadness!”

  “Yes, Sir. I am sorry, Sir.”

  He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Then what is it?” He pressed tighter against her, forcing his cock to flatten along her stomach and not seek her hot core. He lifted his hand to her blindfold. “Damn it Sage, no secrets! There’s nothing between us anymore, do you un—”

  His voice clutched as he ripped the blindfold off.

  And reality crashed back in.

  The woman tethered under him blinked against the light with huge, black-lashed, velvet-dark eyes. Not brilliant green. Lush brown.

  His stunned grunt filled the space between them. He delved his hand into her dark blond hair, and twisted hard. She winced as hair pins dragged out with the wig he pulled free. The woman’s natural chestnut waves tumbled free.

  “Shit.”

  The sound came from him, though nothing about the croak felt familiar or real. But it sure as hell didn’t belong to this poor confused call girl, who’d been through enough of a head-fuck today, thanks to him.

  Oh yeah, the crap soup brains belonged solidly on his shoulders. He couldn’t keep the mess to himself anymore, either. Yeah, way to pull down the impressive stats, Hawk. A four-mile radius in three hours, yielding two terrified women and one cock that can still drill through the side of a tank.

  And zero points in the decent human being department.

  “Sir? Are you all right?”

  Her gentle whisper unraveled his soul by several more miles. The woman was pinned beneath him on a bed to which he’d tethered her—and she was trying to comfort him?

  “Shit,” he repeated. After hurling the wig and blindfold aside, he shoved the crop to the floor with his knee as he slid off of her. In a haze of heavy silence, he moved around the bed to set her free from the cuffs.

  The woman slowly pulled her legs back together. Garrett sat back on the edge of the bed. After a few long moments, he reached for her ankles and started rubbing the circulation back into them. “Better?” he said, attempting a kind smile.