Chapter Nine #2
says, his voice low and painstakingly gentle. The hand in my hair is gentle,
too, unlike the way he fisted my hair in the arena. He touches me like I’m made
of glass.
“How very polite.” Isn’t this what Dante had told me to look
for? The trouble is I don’t want a polite bargain. I want his passion.
Though I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’ll be gone in a day or
two. I haven’t changed my mind about that. Even though he’s promised not to
treat me the way he did before, I know it’s inevitable that he will.
The truth of the matter is I’ve been giving an enormous
amount of thought to my sex life. It’s been pointless and futile up until now.
The two men I went to bed with before marrying Michael were utterly boring, and
I just wanted to get it over with. Michael was the same way. It’s why I started
exploring Dominance and submission in the first place. I haven’t gotten past
the Internet, but I ordered some books on the subject, and I planned to meet
some people in the lifestyle.
Being out in the arena with Beck was a revelation. It was
the single most erotic experience of my life, and he rejected me afterward. He
thinks I’m just as much a pervert as Michael did, and I refuse to be trapped in
another marriage where my husband didn’t truly want me. But I’m stuck for now.
Why not enjoy what he can give me? I took my birth control shot a week before I
was kidnapped. Why not enjoy a little sex? Even if it wasn’t as mind-blowing as
before, it would be better than anything I had on the Earth plane. I’ll have to
make sure I come off as vanilla as possible so he doesn’t get angry again.
I let my hand find his sculpted chest. “All right.”
He sighs, and I feel that strange connection between us open
slightly. It tingles there on the edges of my consciousness, and I open myself
eagerly to it. I can feel his arousal. I can feel how much he wants me. It
makes me feel special and desirable.
He closes it down immediately.
“Sorry.” He eases me onto my back. “I have to get used to
the bond. It’s particularly strong when we make love. I promise I won’t flood
you with it again.”
“I didn’t mind,” I say before he touches my lips with his.
It’s a gentle touch, a light melding of lips. I find it slightly frustrating.
“Of course you did,” he murmurs as he kisses me, a little
harder this time.
He presses his mouth over mine. His tongue requests access.
I allow my body to soften beneath him, and his tongue lazily plunges in. He
explores my mouth, mating his tongue to mine, devouring me softly. His hands
gently frame my face as he strokes my hair.
I shudder with pleasure as he moves from my mouth to my
neck. He’s so big against me. He tries to keep his weight off me, but I want to
be crushed under it. I want him to hold me down or tie me up. Not that I can
ask him to do that. He would probably turn away in disgust, but I want it so
badly. “I’m cold. Won’t you cover me? I might be warm if you lay on top of me.”
He’s not able to completely close off the surge of desire my
request sends through him. He wants to be on top of me. He wants me helpless
underneath him. I felt his desire briefly before he shut it off. “You don’t
think I’m too big for you? I don’t want you cold. Let me get undressed first.”
He slips out from under the covers and quickly shucks his
clothes. I watch, my mouth watering, as his big, strong body is revealed by
firelight. He’s all steel and smooth muscles. The wounds he took in the arena
closed and are healing. His body, he explained earlier, can take a lot of
damage and repairs itself quickly. The slight pinkness of the healing flesh
doesn’t detract from his perfection. He’s a work of art. Michelangelo would
have been proud to sculpt that body. And then there’s his cock. I have more
time to study it now that he isn’t shoving it at my face. It's big and thick,
and pointing straight up, reaching his belly button. His balls are heavy and
taut against his body. Even in the firelight, I can tell his cock is so hard
it’s purple.
How had that ever fit in my mouth? That dark voice from my
fantasies reminds me. That monster cock fit because Beck made sure it fit. He
shoved and pushed until I accommodated him.
“Let me help you.” He kneels down and reaches for the hem of
my shirt.
The linen shirt is all I’m wearing. It’s the only protection
I have. If he ordered me to take it off, I would throw the damn thing into the
fire. He doesn’t, and I’m reluctant. He seemed to like my body before, but the
arena changed that.
He pulls the shirt over my head, and I fight not to cover
myself. I seek the connection between the two of us. If I can find it, I’ll
know what he’s feeling. Now that I had the connection with him, being without
it makes me feel alone. I wonder how much control I have. I try to brush my
thoughts against his, requesting the contact.
“Shhh,” he whispers, getting under the covers. He pulls me
into his arms. “Don’t be scared, love. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be gentle.”
So I’m not very good at this. He got the message, but not
the one I thought I was sending. He thinks I’m afraid, not frustrated and
nervous.
“Just kiss me.” I can lose myself in his kisses. The man
knows how to kiss.
He smiles, generous lips tugging up before he plants them on
me. He kisses me as he covers me with his hard body. We meet, skin to skin. I
love the way he presses me into the ground. It’s not the most comfortable I’ve
ever been, but something about being held down does it for me. I let my hands
drift above my head and imagine he tied them down.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispers as he leaves my mouth.
His hands travel down my torso, making my skin sing wherever he touches me. “I
want to kiss you everywhere. May I?”
“If you like.”
He kisses his way to my breasts. The kisses are gentle, like
butterflies landing and taking off again. He takes one nipple in his mouth and
curls his tongue around it. He draws on the bud, sucking and playing with it. I
bite back a moan. It’s not as rough as I like it, but it still feels good. It
feels fantastic. Beck plucks at my other nipple with his fingers. I imagine
that he’s placed me in nipple clamps. He’ll tighten them to the point of pain,
and then his eyes will heat as he studies me, trussed up and gilded for his
pleasure. I’ll be his plaything.
His hand leaves my nipple, traveling down toward my pussy.
He slides a finger through my labia. His head comes up in surprise as he finds
the folds of my pussy already slick.
“You’re wet.” His fingers slide all around my pussy, delving
deep and then shallow, as though he can’t quite believe what he’s feeling.
“You’re soaking wet.”
I feel my face flush and try to pull away. He’ll take it as
proof of my wantonness. “Sorry.”
He puts his hand around my throat and I stop squirming, and
a fresh rush of arousal sparks through me. His hand is still moist from my
pussy as he circles my neck. He can’t know what his hand collaring my neck does
for me. He would be shocked if he did.
“You still want me.” It seems to break something in him, and
he kisses me harder than before. He’s still careful, but he seems less
tentative.
I can feel his iron-willed control. He’s using it to hold
himself back. I want to beg him to let go, to use that will on me. I’ll love