Chapter 6 Reluctant Submission #2
The kiss deepened, and she tasted the dark promises he kept. His tongue teased and taunted, making her stretch for more.
She gasped when his fingers struck a particularly sensitive nerve. Something between a growl and a prayer escaped his throat.
“Getting closer, printsessa.”
He focused on her pleasure, driving his fingers into her as his thumb played cruel tricks with her clit, edging her toward climax and then making her wait. He knew what he was doing, dragging this out to make her beg.
“Ash, please… Don’t tease me.”
Dear god, was she actually begging this man to finish her? How was this her life?
“Say yes,” he breathed against her lips. “Stay with us. Let us give you everything you need.”
“I don’t know what I need.” She only knew what she wanted, and in that moment, his touch ranked number one on her list.
“I do. But you have to trust me.”
His fingers delved and swirled, pushing her along that razor-sharp edge until she was mad with desire. Pushing the sweater higher, he forced her hand to hold the material at her ribs. He kicked her feet apart, widening her stance and causing her to lean into the wall.
She followed his gaze down, and gasped as he slapped her wet folds.
“Soaking fucking wet and begging to come.” Another slap followed by another startled gasp.
” Not hard, but fast enough to shock her.
“Did you think it would be gentle? Easy? What fun is that?” He pinched her clit, and she grabbed his wrist.
Blue eyes flashed as he held her with that threatening stare, daring her to end this. The sharp warning was enough to keep him in control, enough to prove she didn’t want to walk away. She stilled, his fingers unmoving, as the tightening pain spread.
“You trust me to know what you need. Trust us to take care of you.”
“That’s not pleasant.”
“That’s fear talking. Let the physical feeling process. Get control of your emotions. Don’t let fear control you.”
She breathed through it, and the sharp pinch transcended into liquid heat, melting her insides and burning her resistance to ash. The tension in her body noticeably softened.
“Very good, printsessa. You’re only a few words away from ecstasy, now.” He released his hold of her little bud and rubbed away the sting, teasing her with focused precision until she started to quiver. “Say it. Say you’re ours.”
God help her, she wanted to give in. Wanted to sink into his strength and let someone else carry the weight for a while. Wanted to believe that this beautiful, dangerous man could keep her safe from the monsters of her past.
His fingers sank deep, and he stilled, holding her on the precipice of something dark and unknown. “All you have to say is yes. Agree to be ours, and your worries are over.”
Her spine stretched against the wall as he pressed deeper. “Ash—”
“Say it.”
“I…”
“Say it. Submit. Why force us to be cruel when it feels this good to take it like a good girl. Don’t you want to be a good girl, Mary?”
Her eyes closed in shame, but what other choice did she have? If this was her destiny, she might as well enjoy it. “Yes, I want it.”
His lips pressed to hers, tongue dominantly taking control of her mouth as he smiled against her with ultimate satisfaction. “Very good, printsessa.”
He lifted her off her feet, hooking a strong arm under her legs as he carried her to a kitchen chair. He sat her on his lap, back to chest, and used his knees to spread her legs wide as he gave her privates another slap.
“Ah!”
“Be still. I want to show you something you’ll never forget.” His fingers wedged inside of her with absolute possession. Her slick folds were her body’s shameful betrayal. Bunching the sweater in his fist, he held the material above her chest, exposing her bare breasts to the wide window.
Thankfully, there was only barren snow on the other side.
“Look at yourself in the glass, printessa.” He pulled her knees wider and fingered her faster.
She gasped and panted as pleasure built inside of her, needing a way out. The sounds her body made as he fucked his fingers into her should have mortified her, but she was too fascinated by her body’s response to address the shame.
Leaning forward, her body bent with his as he reached for a glass bottle on the table. “This will help.”
He doused her belly and thighs with what appeared to be olive oil, then folded her legs upward, trapping them against her chest and under the hook of one strong arm.
Her lungs compressed as he folded her like a pretzel.
She’d been on the verge of climax, and she wanted him to finish her, but this position left her too exposed.
“Ash, wait.”
“No. This is how it will be now.” Fingers slick with oil, he fed them back inside of her, pumping faster and deeper until her climax ruptured into something all-consuming.
Her body tensed and spasmed, reveling in the fantastical finish, but he was far from done. He didn’t let her come down. Instead, he pushed her higher, driving another orgasm out of her before the last fully left her.
It was too much. But he held her so tightly, folded on his lap, she couldn’t get the words past her lips. Using the oil, he worked his touch deeper, purposely stretching her.
“Breathe, printessa.”
He was trying to fit all five fingers inside of her. “I can’t.”
“I can’t hurt you if I vow to protect you.”
“It’s too much.”
“It’s not. Think of all the amazing things the female body can do.”
He pushed his hand deeper, and panic took over. “Stop! Stop! Stop!”
His touch disappeared, but he held tight, as if afraid she’d bolt. “Look at me.” The lash in his voice commanded her full attention.
Turning her head, she stared up at him in bewildered confusion.
“This is what you chose. If you walk away now, my brothers will keep their promise. You’ll be in police custody within the hour. Your welcome, requires your full surrender to stay.”
“I gave you my word, but what you’re trying to do… It’s too much.”
“It’s not. I’m trying to show you what it is to trust in the face of fear.”
“There are physical limits—”
“And I’m well aware of them. Unless there’s some sort of injury in your past that I’m unaware of, we’ve hardly grazed your limits.”
“Physically, maybe, but mentally—”
“There is no mentally, not when you surrender. You trust us to think for you. About your pleasure and your safety.”
“I can’t surrender my free will like that. My body, maybe, but not my mind.”
“Can I show you something? If you tell me to stop again, I will. We’ll go find the others, and we’ll begin arranging your transport home. You have my word.”
Except she couldn’t go home. “Please don’t hurt me.”
“Do as I say—exactly as I say—and there will be no pain.”
Closing her eyes, she nodded.
“Good girl.”
She gasped as he plastered her body on the flat surface of the table, using his dominating size to hold her down. “This will be a lesson you never forget.” His hands traced up her arms until they folded over hers. He pressed down on her hands in a silent command for her to hold the position.
“You’re scared. But I swear you’re safe. Don’t let fear steal this opportunity from you. You’re so close to discovering a new sense of freedom. So close to safety. So close to feeling protected from whatever haunts you. You just have to trust us.”
She shuddered under the gravity of his words more than she did from the weight of his dominant hold. His hands curved over hers, pressing her fingers around the lip of the table. “Hold the edge and don’t move.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
“To show you.” He kicked open her legs, and more oil drizzled down her crack, sliding along her sex.
Heat pressed into her back as he leaned close to whisper in her ear.
“If you tell me to stop, I will. Everything will stop. We’ll collect your things and never lay another hand on you.
If that’s your choice, we’ll respect it.
You’ll become the magistrate’s problem.”
His fingers worked inside of her, soft and teasing like the way he’d started.
“Do you want me to stop?”
She bit down on her lips, trapping them between her teeth, and shut her eyes.
“Good, printessa. Very good.” Deeper, he pressed, sometimes turning his pinched fingers in a corkscrew motion until he worked all four back inside. “You have to trust that we won’t hurt you. That means truly understanding your limits.”
She didn’t feel pain. She felt fullness. Pressure. And panic.
When she gasped for breath, he sensed the presence of something other than pleasure. “Your panic’s tricking you,” he whispered, not backing off but gently smoothing a hand over her damp hair. “Breathe with me. In.”
She matched his deep inhalation.
“Out.” His hand continued to calm her as the other breached her sex in ways she couldn’t fathom.
“In.” His voice was coaxing her away from that edge of terror where anxiety took hold.
“Out.” He waited for her breathing to settle, and then he praised her.
“See how brave you are.” He kissed her cheek. “Such a good girl.” He pressed deeper.
Her fingers curled tightly around the lip of the table as a whimper escaped.
“Don’t tense. Stay loose. Keep breathing.” He added more oil. “The only thing preventing me from getting inside of you is your mind.”
He kept his booted stance inside of hers, forcing her legs wide, the rasp of denim against her bare inner thighs a delicious friction that made her squirm. He rested his free hand on her spine.
“Feel your body stretching to accommodate me.” He gently pressed and pulled, wedging his exploring touch deeper by small degrees. “I think you want to please me, but you’re afraid to admit it, afraid to discover what that says about the kind of woman you are.”
He was right.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything beyond the fact that you’re a good girl who takes what we provide.”
There was so much oil, she could only feel the pressure. Deeper now, he rocked his knuckles inside of her. It should have hurt, but instead something strange unfurled, and her lips parted on a sharp gasp.
“You’re feeling it now.”
Every sensation was strange and new. Intensely overwhelming.
“Some would be shocked to see what a woman’s body can handle. A fist. An arm. Three massive cocks.”
She sobbed—the building pleasure refusing to be denied by silence.
No idea how deep he actually was, she sensed his presence inside of her through every nerve ending.
Her muscles contracted, and her body no longer obeyed her brain.
Ash had become the puppet master. He held the strings and had complete control of her.
“I like when you make noise, printessa. It shows your control’s slipping. Each startled gasp of pleasure’s an invitation to take a little more.”
A guttural sob escaped, borne of hedonistic confusion and carnal sin.
“That’s it. Take it like a good girl for Ash. Nothing sexier than a woman’s surrender.” He pumped his fingers deeper. “Such courage. Do you feel it? Feel my hand inside of you? Feel the power of disarming the fear.”
As he moved, her brain short-circuited. In and out, with slow, firm, dominating thrusts that drove her to her toes and rocked the table.
The sounds that escaped her were raw and primal, torn from depths she didn’t know existed. The moment he gave her permission to speak, she couldn’t shut herself up. Every thrust pushed a cry out of her, his masculine groans rumbling like distant thunder as she clenched around his invading fingers.
She felt him everywhere, rippling through her veins like fire that burned with erotic delight. His clothing rustled behind her, but she couldn’t see him. He purposely held her in a position where she could only feel.
Her cheek rested on the table as he vehemently fucked his hand into her, but not painfully. He was not rough, but rather determined.
“Now, I want to hear my name from that pretty mouth of yours.”
“Ash,” she bit the word out on a moan.
“Again.”
“Ash.”
“Louder.”
“Ash!”
The guttural grunt from his chest should have warned her, but she wasn’t prepared.
He shoved the sweater up her back as his hot release spattered across her bare ass.
The masculine scent of his raw arousal tripped her past that final layer of resistance until she was screaming his name in ecstasy on a string of profanities and confessions she had no way of stopping.