Deep in the Woods (10 page)

He licked her center, then flicked her inner labia with light teases that had her shaking her head and begging for mercy. “Dave, please! Ah, ah—”

“Shh.” He made sibilant noises against her swollen clit until she rose up off the bed.

“Please, please—”

Dave smiled. “I know, baby. Doesn’t this feel good?”

“Pleeeeeaaase! Please—” He began to nibble and tease her clit. He could barely stifle his laughter as she broke down into a panting, pleading mess. The first time he’d gone down on her she’d literally screamed for respite. When she’d explained her unusual sensitivity, he had played with her another half hour just for the thrill of seeing her go crazy. Much like she was doing now. “Oh god, Dave, Sir, Please!” Her thighs clenched beneath his palms. Her hips arched to him in wild, uncontrolled thrusts, then just as quickly she tried to pull and twist away. Soon it became less like loving and more like wrestling. Cerby whined softly from his bed and Dave released her to get up and shut the dog out of the room.

His cock was bursting. “Don’t move. Keep those legs spread wide for me.” He lunged for the drawer and rolled on a condom with world-record speed. She lay still, gasping with relief and, Dave hoped, the same kind of lust that was racing through his veins. “Good girl. You want my fat cock, baby?”

She made an incoherent noise that sounded very much like
Yes, right now
. He fell back on top of her, grappling, pushing, pulling. She arched her back, reaching for a handhold. He pushed her arms to the bed hard and impaled her at the same time. She moaned, writhing under his forceful thrusts, her slick pussy gripping him. Her legs were trembling and he knew she was already on the verge.

“No. Wait for me.”

“I can’t. I can’t wait.”

“Wait for me,” he growled, biting her neck. He felt every inch of his dick entering and leaving her tight pussy and it was making him lose his mind. He wasn’t going to last much longer either. He leaned down and kissed her hard, capturing her moans and pleas in his mouth.

“You want to come, baby?” She whined against his lips, bucking her hips against him. Her arms struggled to get free, to come around him. “No,” he whispered in her ear. “Answer me. I’m gonna hold you down and fuck you until I come, and if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you come too. But you have to be a good girl. Now answer me nicely. Do you want to come?”

“Yes Sir!”

“Yes Sir, what?” he prompted with the last shreds of his control.

“Yes Sir, please, I want to come. Please let me come.”

The harder he held her down, the harder she came. She fought him with a moan that died to a gasp. She flew apart and went limp, trapped in his arms, breathless fulfillment. He came inside her, groaning her name.

* * * * *

“Really. Truly. Dave, I swear it.”

Dave scrutinized her from across the breakfast table. “You’re sure? You’re absolutely positive that our playtimes don’t bring them on?”

She rubbed her eyes in frustration. “Even if they did, I would still want you to play with me. I live for our times together.”

“But you’re not absolutely certain it’s not the source of your bad dreams.” She looked down and pressed her lips together, no doubt fighting the urge to disobey his “no sass” edict. Dave was big on fighting fair, and not just in the martial arts arena. No threats, no exaggeration, no storming off when the fights got difficult. No passive-aggressive hiding and stewing. “Talk to me, Soph.”

“I am talking to you.” She tried to keep her voice modulated, he gave her that. “I’m just…look… I don’t know what’s going on in my brain, especially when I’m sleeping. I can’t control what I dream about. I can only tell you that I love when we play. I can’t imagine it giving me nightmares.”

Dave shifted and ate another segment of grapefruit. Sophie grimaced as he salted it first.

“I suppose that’s a Northern thing,” she said.

“It’s not a Northern thing, and it’s very delicious. You should try it sometime instead of sitting across from me pulling faces.”

“I don’t like the taste of grapefruit.”

“Neither do I. That’s why I salt it. Makes it taste completely different.”

He resisted the urge to force her to try a piece in the interests of keeping their discussion on track. Before breakfast he had gone downstairs to collect the photographs he’d developed and pored over them on the porch while Sophie lazed in bed. The trick with the underexposure had worked perfectly. He showed them to her in the bedroom, and was heartened to see her smile. Hopefully she wouldn’t be such a reluctant model anymore.

But he didn’t show her the last two photos. The ones of her standing, bewildered, at the top of the steep path. Nor did he show her the cropped versions, where he zoomed in on her face. He had stared at her eyes under the red-amber lights, trying to understand the expression there. Not fear or confusion, but something more elemental. Something he wasn’t even close to understanding.

“Soph, when is your next appointment with Dr. Perez?”

“Tuesday.”

“Do you talk to her about the nightmares? What does she say about them?”

“She says they’re normal. Just my mind working through some of the things that happened to me.” Sophie reached across to take his hand, stroking it in that soothing way she had. “She says the important thing is to remember that it’s over. That I don’t ever have to live that way again. And you, more than anyone, helped me see that. So please don’t get that guilty, suspicious look, like maybe this is your fault. I can’t stand when you do that.”

“I just don’t want you to stay with me and put up with things because you think you’re in love with me when you’re really not.”

“I am in love with you.”

“Did you think you were in love with Barry?”

She clamped her mouth shut and frowned at him. “That was different.
So
different.”

“You never said anything to him, no matter what he did to you.”

“Because I was enslaved. I wasn’t in my right mind. Now I am. Don’t I seem sane to you?”

Dave quirked the corner of his mouth to lighten the mood. “Well. Most of the time I suppose you’re halfway normal. But I still don’t understand why you never said anything about what he did to you. Even now. Now that you realize how he abused you—”

“I was consenting to it at the time.”

“Bullshit.”

“I was. I never told him to stop anything he did to me.”

“I’m sorry, but I find that a little difficult to believe.”

“Well, it’s true.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. Dave fell silent. He hated when he got this way. Guilty and suspicious, just as she said. And angry at something he couldn’t change. “What if he’s with another girl now? Doing the same things he did to you?”

“Not my problem,” she muttered into her pancakes. “Anyway, I just don’t want to. Dr. Perez says that’s something I need to gauge more carefully in my life. The things I want to do and the things I feel pressured to do.” She glared over at him.

“Or pressured not to do,” he replied evenly, returning her gaze. “Don’t want to upset Daddy, do we?”

“Oh, here we go.” She threw up her hands and stood to begin clearing the plates. “My decision not to press charges against Barry had nothing to do with my father. If I’d told him I wanted to, he would have supported me.”

“Really? I find that difficult to believe as well. Bad for business.” Dave shut his mouth and stood up to help Sophie. Sophie’s father was right up there with Barry in harming Sophie in Dave’s opinion, but it got him nowhere, trying to point that out to Sophie. Her family, her blood. None of his business.

“They’re expecting us Saturday evening for dinner.”

“Great. Dinner with the general.” He was coming dangerously close to breaking his own rules on sarcasm and disrespect. “But the munch is next Saturday,” he reminded her. “We were planning to go.”

“The munch is at two. Dinner is at seven.”

Again, Dave bit his tongue. He did this for her, because he loved her. Her father and mother were as anxious as him about what she’d been through, so he didn’t fault them for wanting to be kept in the loop. But the formal dinners every other Saturday were about as pleasant as a root canal. The casual but probing questions, the assumed suspicion. Well, they weren’t stupid. Surely they knew based on her last relationship that Sophie had some hard-core kinks. Kinks he was likely to share. He felt he had to constantly be proving to them that he meant her no harm, that he loved her.

“I can try to make up an excuse if you want me to,” she offered.

“No. You’re a horrible liar. Anyway, they’ll just assume I’m behind you forcing the lies out of you with my Dominant mojo.” He bumped her hips and reached over her head to put the dried dishes away in the cabinet. “They’ll send the SWAT team over.”

“SWAT team, my ass,” Sophie giggled.

“What’s that? You want me to SWAT team your ass? I think I could make that happen.” Her giggles rose to screams as he started to tickle her. Forget floggers and nipple clamps. If he really wanted to torture his girl…

“Dave, no, stop!” She screamed when her pleading wasn’t effective, screams laced with maniacal laughter when she could catch her breath.

“That’s what you get,” he said. “Torture for torture. I have to eat dinner with your family, then you get tickled. Now we’re even.” He smiled as Sophie slid breathlessly to the floor. “Had enough?”

“Mercy. Seriously. Please never do that again.” Cerby came over and nudged her, licking her face as he stood over her. She patted his muzzle before shoving him away. “Don’t you start too. And see, Dave? I just told you to stop very clearly. So I am capable of expressing when you’ve gone too far with me.”

“Tickling is your hard limit?” He shook his head and pretended disappointment. “Pathetic. And you call yourself a sub? Wait until they hear about this at the munch.”

Chapter Six

Sophie generally enjoyed the munches. Where else could you sit, have a meal and talk about kink and lifestyle issues with a crowd of other people who understood your point of view? But this month’s topic had unsettled her. It made her feel singled out.
The Importance of Consent and Limits.

Jerry smiled right at her when he revealed it, as if he’d intended it all along for her benefit. It had embarrassed her and she hadn’t smiled back. Of course, she was probably just being oversensitive. Projecting, as Dr. Perez said. The topic applied to everyone, not just her.

It was only that everyone in that room had watched from a distance while she and Barry had royally fucked up the whole business of limits and consent.

She only half listened to the discussions, choosing instead to concentrate on her food, and later, snuggle close against Dave’s side. She breathed in the smell of his cologne and rested her hand on his thigh under the table, the long, muscular thigh that had battled for space with her…what was it…just a few months ago? She shot a look across the room at Lara, who quickly looked away.

This was the first munch they were attending as a couple. They had skipped the previous ones, caught up as they were in the thick of her nightmares and complicated decisions about how to relate as a D/s couple.

What a difference a few months made. She felt so fortunate to be at his side, and for his part, he didn’t let her get farther than an arm’s reach away, not with all the other Doms in the vicinity. She chuckled at his show of territoriality, but she was secretly thrilled that he was so possessive of her. All her old friends smiled and hugged her. They could see the relationship was a good one. Even those who had frowned and stared at the previous munch were cordial and welcoming to her now.

But the topic. Ugh.

Dave looked over at her and squeezed her hand under the table. She knew it was important to him to be involved in the community. It was how he got most of his business, through face-to-face interaction. Attending play parties, going to area munches and conventions, talking to people and handing out cards. She smiled back at him, relaxing, tuning out the woman who was talking, a self-righteous s-type named SuzieQ who was trying to insist she had no limits when it came to her Master’s needs.

“Really?” asked an older Domme. “You have absolutely no limits? What if he wanted to break your legs? What if he wanted to cut off your arms?”

“I don’t think he would ever ask that of me,” replied Suzie with a frown. “But if he did, I would submit to whatever he wished.”

A handsome switch in the corner laughed out loud. Jerry frowned and stood to moderate. “Listen, people. Let’s be polite. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. And we adhere to the belief that all kinks are okay, even if they’re not your kinks.”

“But not all kinks are okay.”

Dave’s deep voice surprised her. She felt color rise in her cheeks as everyone turned to them. “It’s politically correct to say they are, but where do we draw the line? Isn’t there a line somewhere? Doesn’t there have to be?”

The room fell silent, and Sophie felt the questioning gazes directed at her.
Where do we draw the line, Sophie? You crossed it. So tell us?

Luckily, SuzieQ was back on her slave soapbox, drawing attention away. “If you are a true slave, if you are truly devoted to your Master, your needs and wants should no longer matter—”