Invitation to Ecstasy (5 page)

Safe
wasn’t something Sara had felt in a long time.

There was no doubt in her mind Derek was probably a decade
younger than her, but the wisdom reflected in the emerald pools of his eyes
spoke of a maturity far beyond his years. She wanted to snuggle into his tender
touch, surround herself in the warmth of his embrace, but she also understood
it wasn’t gentleness he offered—nor what she needed.

Too many years she’d lived with the hurt and the anger, the
embarrassment and the betrayal. What Derek offered, without reservation, was an
opportunity to heal from all that had come before.

“Sara.” He spoke her name as a command, the deep timbre
flowing over her, surrounding her with his strength.

In one word, he gave the power over to her. The next move
was hers and they both knew it.

She’d come to this bungalow wanting to end the hold her late
husband had on her. Sara had feared she wouldn’t be brave enough to journey
alone through the terrible memories, but here was Derek, a Dom who offered her
the opportunity to hand over the shameful truths of her past. Dare she hope
that shining a light on them could chase away the ugliness casting dark shadows
on her life?

Tired of carrying the burden, she nodded. “It’s much too
stormy to get back to the main lodge now. There are candles everywhere. I’m
sure I can find matches, Master.” Without thought, the title slipped from her
lips. And just like that, they’d come back around to their natural roles. Some
things in life weren’t meant to be questioned.

“I think a little light would be a good idea,” he said. “I’m
not keen on you sewing me up in the dark.” His tone dropped, ratcheting her
pulse up another notch.

She stood and began rifling through the drawers of the
nightstand. “There are candles everywhere, I would imagine… Ah, here we are.”
Triumphantly, she held up a box of wooden matches, struck one and efficiently
lit several candles around the hot tub, bathing them in a golden glow.

“There we are,” she said, setting two large, red pillars
next to Derek on the low platform.

“Very Florence Nightingale.”

Color flooded her cheeks, and Derek laughed, a warm rumble
that fluttered pleasantly in her stomach. Grateful he found humor in her
discomfort over his compliment, instead of responding, she focused on finding
the supplies she would need to patch him up. “There doesn’t seem to be any
topical anesthesia.”

“Then bring on the pain.”

Though he didn’t seem to get off on the deep cleaning of the
cut, he didn’t wince either as she scrubbed it with antiseptic and efficiently
closed it with five butterfly strips along his thigh. She soothed it with
antibiotic cream and placed a large bandage over the wound. The white towel was
saturated with his blood by the time she finished and sat back to admire her
handiwork.

“Thank you, Sara.” His hand smoothed through her hair, his
touch warm and gentle against her scalp.

She looked at him, his green eyes growing dark and heavy
lidded as he studied her. His hand threaded around the back of her neck, his
thumb grazing the line of her jaw. Derek didn’t say a word. Didn’t change his
expression. But his hunger for her was growing like the tempest slashing at the
windows.

“What do you want, Sara?”

Not a command, but every word poured over her, anticipation
heating her blood.

“Only to please you, Master,” she said.

“I’m a very needy Dom.” Derek leaned forward and pushed the
robe from her shoulders, his lips nibbling at her collarbone. “I expect my
submissives to obey my every command. I want everything from you, Sara.”

A bolt of lightning lit up the room, the answering call of
the thunder punctuating his demand. She didn’t have time to contemplate the
storm as his warm breath feathered over her neck and she let the thrill shimmy
down her back. She felt him smile against her neck, aroused at her ability to
please him.

“Are you willing to give me
everything
, Sara?”

Let me try.
“Yes, Master.”

“You will be mine. There will be no thought. No decisions.
Only obeying. You speak only when I command.” He leaned back, the gravity of
her decision reflected in the deep furrows between his brows. “And make no
mistake, Sara, I intend for it to hurt.”

Another flash of light and crashing thunder. She wanted
this. Wanted what he was offering. Wanted everything he would demand from her.

“I welcome the pain, Master.”

Spreading open her robe, he laid his palm between her
breasts. “Here. It’s going to hurt here.”

Heart hammering beneath the heat of his hand, her blood
rushing in her ears, the storm built inside Sara, matching the angry rain
lashing at the windows. Ethan had said the Doms this weekend were
inexperienced, but Derek had not only bumped up against her defenses, he
understood them for what they were—security against the emotional pain she’d
hidden for so long. The determination in his eyes made it perfectly clear he
would accept nothing less than everything. “I’m afraid.”

“I will be here through it all.”

Derek stood, pulled her to her feet and slid the robe from
her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. She stepped over it, feeling oddly
vulnerable in her nudity as he led her to a full-length mirror across the room.

The large antique looked oddly out of place in the modern
surroundings. Broad, clawed feet anchored it to the floor. The ornate silver
frame curled and twisted up the sides in detailed lacework. The graceful arched
peak towered a foot over her head, and she appeared small and vulnerable in its
mirrored surface.

“I want you to see yourself the way I see you,” he said. “
Really
see who you are, not some ideal image of yourself.” He left her to stare at her
reflection.

Sara cringed at the image before her. Purple bruises were
already forming on her arms and legs where she’d been battered against the
rocks. Her eyes looked unusually large in her pale face, surrounded by the
tangled mess of her blonde hair.

Derek returned, reverently placing several candles at her
feet. Light and shadows danced along her skin, emphasizing the puffiness below
her eyes and the angry cut along her right cheek. Small scratches crisscrossed
her torso and she had no idea when she’d gotten any of them.

A bitter laugh nearly escaped.
She wasn’t much to look
at.

Pain stung her buttock and she gasped in shock. Derek stood
behind her, meeting her gaze in the mirror. He shook the brush he’d used to
spank her. “I know what you’re thinking, and while we are here in this
bungalow, until you use your safe word, you are mine, Sara. And everything of
mine is beautiful and meant to be admired.” He spanked her again, the sound
making her jump.

“Who do you belong to, Sara?”

“You, Master.”

“Everything of mine is beautiful. Say it.”

She couldn’t.
Her breath caught in her throat and her
eyes fell shut as she worked to control the trigger hurtling her back to the
past. Sara hadn’t expected Marc’s words to come out of Derek’s mouth once
again. And as much as she wanted to give herself to this Dom who promised to
heal her, she felt the walls of her heart click solidly into place.

Smack. Smack.
“Don’t do it, Sara. Don’t shut me out.”

The intensity in his eyes as he wielded the brush against
her ass stole her breath. Her heart beat against her ribs to the steady
pounding of the rain on the roof. She wet her lips but still couldn’t find her
voice. Her head shook at his command. He asked too much.

“Tell me about him,” he said.

The words were spoken evenly, but they snapped across her
nerves like a jolt of electricity. She jumped when lightning lit up the room
and thunder rumbled overhead. Sara wasn’t convinced Derek wasn’t controlling
the maelstrom outside as he commanded her obedience. And she wanted to comply
and please him with her subservience, but fear made her hesitate. No one had
asked so much of her since Marc’s death.

“I can’t… It’s… Master, you ask too much.”

He left her then, Derek’s body no longer solid and warm
against her back. She turned in panic, willing to beg him not to abandon her
again. But he’d gone only as far as the closet filled with equipment behind
her.

“Don’t disobey me, Sara. I
will
punish you.”

Though she welcomed the physical pain her Master offered,
she wanted more to please him. Turning back to the mirror, she listened to him
rummage through the equipment, talking to himself as he chose his instruments
of punishment.

“I’m a very patient man. You may only have here and now, but
I can wait an eternity to work through this. I demand everything and expect
even more.”

Derek was right. The man rifling through the closet wasn’t
Marc and she wasn’t the same naïve woman she’d been six years ago when she’d
met her late husband. She wasn’t the innocent woman who’d taken vows of
fidelity five years ago that had meant something only to her. And Sara sure as
hell wasn’t the submissive who’d lost her voice in the rigors of hell.

The wind howled, splashing rain against the windows,
laughing at her, but she refused to be deterred. What better place to leave all
the ugliness than in the bungalow where it had all begun?

Derek returned, pulling her from her musings. Several things
dropped on the wooden floor behind her and her breath hitched in anticipation
at the tools he would use to draw out her pain. The smattering of hair on his
chest tickled her back, the solid wall of his torso comforting in her
insecurity as he pressed against her. He ground his hips into her ass, his cock
snuggling into her cleft, and she wondered exactly when he’d removed his swim
trunks.

His hand dragged up her ribs, lifting her arm, guiding her
hand to the top of the mirror. Fingers wrapped around hers, curling them around
the scrollwork on the mirror’s frame above her head. Derek wrapped a soft
leather cuff tightly around both her wrist and the mirror frame, repeating the
process for her other arm. Her breasts rubbed pleasantly against the cool
surface of the mirror, making them heavy and tightening her nipples into hard
knots.

He swept her hair over one shoulder. Supple leather slid up
her neck and across her cheek. She filled her lungs with the heady scent,
letting it carry her to the familiar place where sensation overrode thought. It
wasn’t until Derek slipped it around her neck she realized he held a collar.

“Look at it and tell me it’s not beautiful.” The words
whispered against the shell of her ear.

She closed her eyes against the memories.

Smack.
His hand came down on her hip. “Did I give you
permission to turn away?”
Smack. Smack.
“Open your eyes. Stop hiding
from the truth.”

Sara let the pain center her as she forced herself to obey
him.

With his eyes locked on hers, his palms dragged up her torso
and he filled his hands with her breasts, painfully kneading the fleshy mounds,
his nails scrapping across the sensitive skin. He pinched her nipples, rolling
and stretching them between his fingers. Sublime pain jolted over her nerves,
frissons of pleasure zinging down her core and clenching her womb.

“Tell me who broke your heart. Who called you beautiful?”

How did he know?

Hot pain seared across her chest as Derek deftly attached
jeweled clamps to her nipples, the chain between them dangling to tickle her
belly.

His mouth was on her neck, his teeth sinking deep. The sensations
toppled one over the other, keeping her off balance, not allowing her time to
contemplate the fear.

“Tell me. Give the pain to me. Trust me to help you heal.”

He pulled on the chain, agony shooting over her nerves,
clenching her pussy and making her wet with desire. He slid his sizable
erection along her cleft, making her all the more needy. She wanted her Master
and everything he offered. The sex, the purging—and the healing. She needed to
let go. No one, not even Ethan had ever comprehended the depth of her pain.

“My husband.”

The hand sliding down her stomach hesitated for the briefest
moment before continuing its slow glide over the silken skin of her mons.
“You’re married?” His palm cupped her as his long fingers toyed with her nether
lips and she canted her hips, giving Derek more access.

“Not anymore.” The words came out on breathy pants of need.

“There’s no shame in divorce, Sara.”

“No…I…”

His fingers slid through her moisture, brushing her clitoris
and stealing her breath. She wanted to focus, but his teeth bit into her neck
again as pain seared through her pussy. Sara didn’t need to look to know it was
a clitoral clamp gripping the swollen nub. It was wonderful and exhilarating
and her internal muscles contracted, moisture dampening her thighs. The musky
scent of her arousal tinkled her nose, mingling with the vanilla scent of the
candles.

“You what? Why isn’t he here with you?”

Thunder rolled as if Marc demanded she stop, but Sara
refused to be denied. “He died…a car accident.” The pain of the clamps seared
over her nerves, making the gentle caresses of Derek’s fingers on her breasts
and nether lips all that more erotic.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

Rain pounded on the roof as another bolt of lightning lit up
the sky and the answering rumble of thunder shook the windows.

It took all of Derek’s willpower to keep his hands moving
along her satin flesh. His instincts had been right about this wounded bird,
the one who made his heart race and his libido scream for mercy. The scars on
her heart had been inflicted by a man who had promised to love her.
Shit, no
wonder she had closed herself off from him.

He slipped his fingers into her silken pussy, her muscles
clenching around them and his cock jumped in response. “What did he do to you?”