17. Gotcha
~ brIDGET ~
“Are you listening?”
I nodded again, strangely enjoying the sensation of his hand on my throat.
“From now on, you tell me nothing about where you will be, or what you’re doing. If you do, you will only guarantee that I will go dark. You need to learn is that I can always find you. I am always prepared to take you. And no one will choose the time and place but me. Not even you.”
I nodded again, thrill and fear trilling in my stomach.
“If you try to lure me out again, I will disappear from your life. I am the hunter. You are the prey. You do not choose when we meet. You do not choose where. And you have no say in the moment our arrangement ends, are we clear?”
I nodded again, my heart racing when he leaned in.
“Unless you’d like to use the safeword? That is the only control you’ll have in this little dance.”
I shook my head as best I could.
He growled his approval, deep in his chest, then his thumb came up to trace the line of my jaw again. And his voice dropped to a whisper.
“Such a pretty girl… so fragile. You think you’re strong, Bridget. And in this world, you are. But not in mine. I can do more than just steal your air.”
There was a split second when niether of us breathed, then the universe spun.
Limbs completely out of control, I wasn’t even sure which way was up until I landed on the ground with a thud and a grunt—immediately followed by another as a heavy weight landed on my lower back and massive hands pinned flat against either side of my skull and pulled me back until my spine was arched and I was looking up at that mask as he straddled my back and stared down at me.
Hands clawing in the dirt but unable to give me any traction because I was bent backwards to my limits and all I could think was don’t break my neck! I caught myself, swallowed the sounds back just as I was about to plead with him to stop.
He huffed. “So you do have some self-control. Very good. You’ve pleased me.”
I tried to plant the heel of my hand on the dirt to give myself some support, but my arm slid out because of the angle he’d bent me into. My heart was beginning to hammer with fear again.
“Now, remember that I told you I don’t lie? Here’s an important truth. I could snap your spine right now. Just a few pounds more pressure and the right twist of your neck,” he tightened his grip on either side of my skull, “and this game would be over. Finished. The only reason you’re still alive is because I choose it.”
I couldn’t nod, or speak, so I just listened, fear and thrill clanging through me.
Then he dropped his chin and his jaw brushed my cheek as he leaned down to whisper in my ear again.
“You’re mine, Bridget. No more of this teasing. No more trying to tempt me out. No more begging. I will come for you when I choose. I will take you when I choose it. You have no control. None. And if that isn’t what you want, then when I disappear, you run home and send me that safe word.”
His breath was growing harsher, and I could feel his arousal pressing against my lower spine, it made tingles radiate between my thighs even as my body screamed terror because he had me stretched so taut I didn’t doubt at all that with just a small jerk, he could kill me on the spot.
Then, to my surprise he moved, releasing my head only to slide one hand back down to my throat and keep me bent backwards that way, while the other dove down the front of my shirt, and under my bra, to grasp my breast.
I thought he’d be rough. I thought he’d grab and twist and punish me for my insolence. So it was a surprise when he cupped my breast, his hand so much bigger than my boob, and stroked the inside of it with his thumb, then began circling his calloused palm over the painfully hard peak of my nipple which had been straining against my bra this entire time.
He gave that deep, approving rumble again and rocked his hips to press his length against my spine, but easing back the pressure on my throat just slightly so it was a touch easier to breathe.
“If I touched you, what would I find?” he rasped, the edge of that mask dragging against my hair. “I think I’d find you slick and ready for me. Am I right, Bridget?”
I gave a handful of short, quick nods because I only had about half an inch of movement before his hand would cut off my air.
He rumbled again and I started panting.
“It’s going to be good between us, Bridget. So very, very good.”
Then he lifted that hand out of my bra and stroked the side of my face, then took his thumb and traced it along my lower lip.
And that was when I realized his fingers were trembling.
I swallowed—which was hard to do, craned back like that—and stared up at him, right to where I thought the shadows were the depths where his eyes would be.
And then I licked my lips.
~ CAIN ~
Fuck!
I’d just schooled her. Pressed her about having no control. Taken from her so she’d know it was true. But even though she’d submitted—and the beast in me was roaring about that—the little minx still found a way to reach me.
When that pink tongue darted out to trace her lower lip, I had to swallow a groan. And all my plans to bury her face down and make her count to fifty while I got the hell out of there dissolved like smoke on the wind.
She was stunning and ballsy and hilarious, and I couldn’t leave without a taste.
Easing off on the pressure so she could breathe properly, I stroked her throat and lowered my grip as I murmured instructions to her, and to my fierce relief, she complied.
As I lowered her back to the dirt she stretched her arms wide and high above her head, turning her head so her temple rested on the ground, which was when I clamped that hand at the base of her neck again, though not hard enough to stop her breathing.
I was genuinely worried about her heart and had almost pussyed out on stealing her air. But she had to learn. Neither of us were safe if she didn’t learn the fucking lesson.
Seeing her so compliant now, I knew I’d done the right thing, and it was thrilling. My heart was banging in my chest, and my hands trembling slightly with the anticipation and arousal of her—her shining eyes, her wet tongue, her quick, harsh breaths.
She wanted me.
The feeling was mutual.
But I couldn’t. Not yet.
God, help me.
Still, I had to have something. It was far too soon to risk the whole show, and she wasn’t scared enough yet, but I was a man obsessed, and I’d stopped fighting the battle with myself over how dangerous she could be.
She was going to be mine. Period.
Just not right now. At least, not entirely.
So I urged her to lay flat, to keep her palms to the ground, and not to move or speak unless I told her to. Because if she did, I would make her pay.
She nodded and did as she was told, until I had her laying flat on her stomach, arms wide and hands high above her head so they wouldn’t give her any strength. Then I nudged her thighs apart, clamped one hand on her shoulder and pinned her down as I knelt between her knees, covering her, rubbing myself against her ass once or twice, applying pressure there, just to get her going.
She whimpered, but I decided it didn’t count as speaking and let it slide.
Also my hand.
Sliding down her back, under the waistband of her leggings, underneath her underwear, and down, down, down, following the line of her beautiful ass, down until I found her, heated and slick—so slick that my fingers slid straight into her with only the slightest pressure.
We both exhaled heavily and she clamped around my fingers so beautifully, I almost lost control, tore her pants down and plunged into her.
I had to drop my head as my body shuddered, demanding her. But I couldn’t do it. Not yet. It was too soon.
So I gathered all the self-control I’d accumulated in over a decade as a Dom, and made myself focus on taking just a taste, and giving her a taste, teaching her that it was worth obeying. That I would always make it worth it to her.
The move was easy to get wrong, and not every woman enjoyed it, but I had a feeling she’d like it. So, spreading my hand wide, I pressed the pad of my thumb just below her asshole, inserted my second finger inside her, and as I pushed into her, slid my forefinger down until I found the base of that swollen nub.
And then I began to massage all three, thumb on her taut skin, thickest finger inside her, curling it to beckon her orgasm as best I could, and forefinger sliding onto her clit, then down, over and down…
Her entire body twitched and she gasped. Her fingers clawed into the dirt. But she did as she was told and didn’t try to move—though her back arched and her breathing came in short, sharp gasps.
God, she was beautiful, mouth open and eyes screwed tightly shut as she tried to press into my touch, but without any real space to move.
Her lips kept making silent words as she stopped herself speaking because I’d told her to—and that just made me want her more.
“I know what you need, Bridget… what you want,” I rasped, picking up the pace of my strokes as she tightened around my finger. I couldn’t resist rolling my hips and rubbing myself against her, though the harsh catch of fabric on my aching cock was as uncomfortable as it was tempting. “But you have to trust me to choose when you get it,” I hissed through gritted teeth as she began to writhe under me, exhaling every time I drew my fingers out and down and sucking in and holding every time I pressed in more.
She was whimpering again, biting down on her lower lip, her breath tearing in and out of her nose in time with my stroking, and I was beginning to shake, achingly hard, desperate, the only thing stopping me taking her right then was knowing that it was far too soon.
Then I felt her body tense and her breath stopped.
“Yessssss, Bridget,” I hissed. “Come for me, beautiful.”
Her head jerked back and she cried my name as I stroked and slid and pressed and almost came myself out of the sheer thrill of seeing her cheeks flush and her body shaking in my thrall.
God she was beautiful. So fucking beautiful.
Then she sucked in a huge breath and her hips bucked as she tried to escape my touch because she was too sensitive now.
With a groan, I stroked her once more, almost laughing when her body jolted, almost weeping because I wanted her so badly, then made myself slowly draw my hand away.
She was breathing hard, blinking, her eyes glazed, as I leaned down, almost forgetting the mask, almost dropping a kiss to the soft, vulnerable skin on her neck.
“You’re mine now,” I rasped in her ear. “I will choose what you get, and when. And I’ll choose what you need in between. Are we agreed?”
She nodded quickly, her shoulders shifting up and down with her panting breaths.
“Good girl.”
She shivered and I smiled.
“Now… you’re going to lay here and recover. You’re going to count slowly to fifty before you so much as raise your head. And I’m going to know if you defy me—do you believe me?”
She nodded again.
“Good. Then you just rest. And I will see you again—I will touch you again—when the time is right. But until then… dream of me.”
She bit her lip as I shoved off of her and ran—uncomfortably because of my erection—but quickly and efficiently, taking a winding route through the trees as silently as I could, then slowing to a walk before I reached the trail.
I was forced to stand against a tree for half a minute, breathing and focusing, until my body softened. Then, when I was sure there was no one nearby, I flipped the mask back and shoved it under my hoodie, stepped out onto the trail with my chin low and hood over my eyes, then walked as quickly and directly to my car as I could, paying attention to no one, and praying none of them paid attention to me.