Invitation to Ecstasy (6 page)

Sara’s forehead fell against the mirror, her heavy pants
fogging its surface.

“He dominated me. Controlled me. Bound me to him.”

The fingers of one hand slid along her cleft, dragging the
moisture to the puckered hole of her ass, teasing the tight muscle while he
toyed with the chain on the clamps. Derek alternated biting and licking her
shoulder, neck and ear, working to keep her senses overloaded, focusing on the
pain and pleasure he offered her body. “I have you bound, does it frighten
you?” He already knew it didn’t as another hot rush of cream flowed from her
pussy.
Damn, she was so fucking responsive.

“I’m not your prisoner.”

“No, you’re my submissive. My toy.” He pushed his finger
into her ass, drawing a satisfying gasp of pleasure from her lips.

“Yes, Master, I’m yours. Use me for your pleasure.”

“You offer so much when you submit, Sara.” His cock was
painfully hard, and it was difficult to slow his own need, but he sensed she
was on the cusp of letting go. “I see how much it pleases you to give yourself
to me.” He added another finger to her ass, stretching and finger-fucking her
back entrance, pleased when she leaned back into it. “I
feel
it. It’s a
gift to be treasured, not exploited.”

“I loved Marc. I willingly gave him all the power.” Tears
welled in her eyes. “But he abused that privilege.”

And there it was.
A Dom who controlled a submissive
with power needed to be hung by his balls. If the bastard wasn’t already dead,
Derek would kill him himself.

A sob escaped, proof that her defenses were crumbling. He
pulled his fingers from her ass and slapped her buttock in several quick
spankings. Without giving her time to recover, he yanked on the chains, sending
pain coursing through her system. She needed to crash through the walls and
release the emotional pain. Anything less and she would never be whole again.

His hand came down in two more hard spanks on her reddened
cheek, the sound echoing off the walls. He wasn’t sure when the thunder had
stopped, but only the rain and howling wind joined her hiccupping cries.

“My parents’ illnesses had taken so much from me. I had to
be so strong while they were sick. When they died, I needed someone to take
care of
me
.” She closed her eyes and spoke through clenched teeth.
“Despite my age, I was too immature and needy when I met Marc. And he was so
driven. So commanding. And even more needy.”

In one fluid motion, Derek bent, grabbed the lube and coated
his cock. “Why didn’t you leave?” Derek’s gut knotted in cold fury, he
suspected he already knew the answer.

“In the beginning he treated me…like a queen.” Her words
were smoother now, only her chin quivering with the horrific memories. “But
after… After the wedding… It all changed.”

Derek embraced her from behind, pressing the heat of his
body against her and sliding his cock between her legs. “How?” He whispered the
question against her ear, his tongue tracing the delicate rim.

She shook her head, panic mapping deep lines across her face
as the last of the tears rolled down her cheeks.

Quickly he released the clamps at her nipples, letting the
chain dangle from her clitoris. She gasped at the wash of physical pain pushing
away her trepidation.

“What he did was wrong, Sara. None of it was your fault.”
Derek’s hands smoothed over her breasts, their sensitive points pebbled in his
palms. Slowly he pumped his hips, his erection bumping up against the chain,
stimulating them both. “He can’t hurt you now.”

“He separated me from my friends. From my family.” She drew
a deep, shuddering breath as he continued to knead her breasts and toy with her
nipples. “It was so gradual, I didn’t even notice until it was too late.”

“You mean you never left your house?” He smoothed his hand
down her flat stomach and around the flare of her hip, sliding it between their
bodies and once again toying with her anus.

“No…I mean yes, we left the house.”

She gasped when he pushed two fingers past her relaxed
sphincter.

“Please, just this.” Her back arched, pushing his fingers
deeper as he scissored against the tight muscle. “I don’t want to talk about
Marc anymore.”

“A little more, Sara.” His teeth grazed the strained cords
of her neck as he rolled the hard pearl of her nipple between his fingers, her
body going liquid against him. “Why didn’t you ask for help while you were
out?”

“Once I left without him.” Sara’s head rolled back against
his shoulder, her heavy-lidded eyes losing focus. “But he came to get me and
punished me for two, maybe three days. Not for pleasure, only for
training
.
He bound and gagged me, using me on and off, rewarding me with food and water.”
The tears started again. “But I blamed myself. I was
his
submissive.
His
toy. I never should have left.”

Derek slid his fingers from her ass and pressed the head of
his cock against the rosebud opening. “Sara, no one has the right to hold you
prisoner.”

“But I loved him. It’s what Marc wanted. My life became
moments of making him happy. Being there when he wanted me. Sara was lost, and
in her place was the shell of a woman who couldn’t find her way out.”

He pushed into her, sheathing his cock in the velvet channel
of her ass. She shuddered in his arms, a contented sigh escaping from her lips.
Derek held her, rocking his hips gently, giving her body time to accommodate
him. “Why didn’t anyone come for you?”

“He made them believe I didn’t want anyone. In the end,
there was no one left to save me. Besides, by then I believed I wasn’t worth
saving.”

“You’re the strongest woman I know.” He buried his face in
her hair, pulling her closer, wishing he could do more than listen. “Why didn’t
anyone see? How could they not
know
?”

“Because Marc was that good. We went to clubs and came here
to Paradise Cove every couple of months, but just for appearances. We visited
with only Ethan. Marc told him this bungalow, the one we’re in now, was our
retreat. Our getaway from the world.” A deep sob shook her body, the emotion
rising from the depths of her soul. “But…”

Sweet Christ.
How the hell had she managed to walk
back in here?

“Enough pain, Sara. You’ve done so well,” he whispered. “No
more memories. Just you and me.” He thrust into her, eliciting a moan of
pleasure. Derek released the clamp from her clitoris and let the chains fall to
the floor. His fingers circled the hard knot, knowing the ecstasy would wrap
around the pain, enhancing her pleasure.

Despite her emotional outpouring, Sara bucked against his
vigorous assault. She anchored herself against the mirror, her cheek pressed to
its cool surface, her hands wrapped in white-knuckled fists around the frame.

His ecstasy mounted, pleasure tightening his balls and
bunching in jolting spasms along his low back. His fingers dug into her ass as
he pistoned his hips, slamming into her with quick thrusts that had them both
quivering. Skin slapped against skin, the sound lifting with their strangled
cries of bliss. Her ass was so fucking tight, he wasn’t sure how much longer he
could last, but he forced himself to focus on her.

Sara grew taut against him and he doubled the speed of his
fingers against her clit. Her eyes squeezed tight, her mouth open in a silent
scream as her orgasm slammed into her. He held her tight through every
shuddering cry, pumping into her from behind as she spasmed in his arms.

Derek strained to control his own release. She’d worked hard
for this reward and he wouldn’t deny her even one second of the rapture tearing
her apart. Just as she was coming down, he reached up, squeezing her breast and
pinching the nipple, his other hand feverishly working her sensitive flesh. Her
body quaked and shattered as another orgasm rolled over her muscles.

When she cried out for her
Master
, he lost all
control.

Ecstasy shot out along his nerves, his cock buried
motionless in the silken heat of her ass. Hot jets of come filled her channel
as wave after wave of bliss rocked his body.

They rode the last shudders of pleasure together, both of
them completely exhausted from the physical and emotional strain. As he gently
slid from her body, she sighed contentedly. Her heart hammered beneath his
palm, her breath slowing, Sara melted against him, her head rolling back on his
shoulder. Derek had held many subs coming down from subspace, but none had fit
so perfectly in his arms. And damn if he didn’t want to stay here in this
moment where trust and security surrounded them like the golden glow of the sun
slanting through the windows.

He wasn’t sure when the storm had stopped, but it seemed to
have cleared out as quickly as it had arrived. One more trial. One more push to
exorcise the demons and he and Sara could enjoy the rest of their time at the
resort.

And wasn’t that new?
When the hell had she crawled
under his skin and made him want her? But damn if the brave woman in his arms
hadn’t made him feel whole again. Derek definitely wanted more time with her
and hoped this weekend wouldn’t be the end for them.

But reality slapped him back to the present as anxiety
pinched his heart. He’d broken down so many of Sara’s defenses, and if he’d
done his job well—replaced the emptiness with gentle messages of self-worth and
healing.

Jesus, he didn’t want to screw this up, especially since
she’d become more than a damaged sub to him. What he did now would either heal
Sara completely or push her into territory that would rebuild the walls he’d
worked so carefully to destroy.

Derek dropped kisses along her jaw, whispering words of
praise for all she had given him. “Sara, open your eyes.”

Her heavy lids fluttered as she worked to obey his command.
Crystalline blue pools reflected her trust as she worked to push away the
sexual haze and focus.

Gently, he turned Sara’s face back to the mirror, sweeping
her hair away from her flushed cheeks. “Look at how
beautiful
you are.”
He emphasized the compliment, his fingers brushing over the silver studs of the
collar at her neck. He ignored the panic sparking in her eyes and mapping deep
lines of fear across her forehead as his hand trailed up her arms to link with
her hands still bound to the mirror. “
My
submissive. Beautiful. Giving.
Compliant. Everything a Dom could want.” He lowered his head and bit her
shoulder, letting the pain once again center her. “See what I see, Sara. A
beautiful
submissive willing to give everything to her Master.”

She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Open your eyes and look!” Derek’s loud words echoed off the
walls. “You. Are. Beautiful. Say it.”

“I’m not.” The tears that had stopped shimmered once again.
“I
can’t
!”

Her reaction confused him. Derek was sure he was reading her
right. Sara had gallantly trudged over the rubble of her past. Heroically faced
the dark shadows taunting her. And now she only had this one last curtain to
push through before finding the peace they both wanted for her.

Forcing her to believe in her own courage, Derek cupped her
chin in his palm, forcing her to stare at her reflection. They’d come this far
and he refused to let her stop without completing what had begun. “Sara,
this
is who you are. No one can take this from you.”

“No, stop! I can’t do this! I’m not—”

The sound of the door slamming against the wall stopped her
pleas.

Ethan stormed across the room, knocking Derek away from
Sara. “What the hell are you thinking?”

Sara was screaming, but Derek couldn’t make out any of her
words as Ethan’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him spinning backward.
Hot pain spiked through his head and blazed across his bloody thigh. Sparks of
confusion danced in his vision.

“I trusted you, asshole! Now she’s covered in blood and
screaming for you to stop!” Ethan bellowed. “I thought you could help her. Not
fuck with her head.” His fist came up again, but Derek held his hands up in
surrender.

Obviously, Derek had pushed too hard—again. And his sub was
paying the price.

Knowing Ethan would repair the damage he’d inflicted, Derek
turned and ran out the door, leaping over the two stairs and into the soft sand
of the path. His feet couldn’t seem to move him fast enough to outrun his
humiliation—or Sara’s heartrending cries of pain that tore at his heart.

Sara fought against the bindings, screaming for both men to
stop.

“Sara, it’s all right. Everything’s all right.” Ethan
pressed his chest against her back, no doubt trying to make her feel safe, but
it only added to the cloying desperation and fear choking her.

“Master!” The word dragged out in a mournful wail as she
called after the only man who’d been willing to face her pain.

Ethan released one wrist and she clawed at the other
binding. Confusion blinded her. She fought desperately against the sexual haze
of endorphins and adrenaline, trying to figure out how everything had gone so
horribly wrong.

“Sara, you’re safe. He can’t hurt you. There’s no need to
fight.”

“Let me go!” As soon as the binding relaxed, she ripped her
hand free and pushed away from the mirror, trying to get away from Ethan. “He
needs me.”

“No.” He twisted her to face him. Even if his fingers hadn’t
been digging into her shoulders, Ethan’s commanding voice alone would have
stopped her cold. “You don’t owe him anything.” The ebony eyes raking her face
glistened with pain. “Thank God I got here when I did.” He looked down her
body, both of them seeing the blood that coated her legs. “Jesus, I thought he
knew better. I’m sorry, Sara. So very sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen
again.”

“No, the blood…it was an accident—”

“This kind of behavior is no accident, Sara. I heard your
cries from the beach for chrissake.”

Ethan had misunderstood her pleas—but not Derek.

Derek had known what she needed and been brave enough to
push at the final anchor holding her in the past. He’d seen her reaction to
being called beautiful—Marc’s public command of absolute obedience—and had
insisted she face it, to feel safe when she said it. Both of them understood
that. Sara just hadn’t been ready to believe Derek was strong enough to hold
back the wash of memories that would come when she pulled down that last
barrier. She saw that now.

But she’d been wrong.

As clearly as the sound of the retreating Wave Runner
carrying Derek away, Sara knew he’d delivered her safely through hell’s fires
unscathed. She felt the truth of it kiss her unchained heart. Even as the
burden of her past lifted, leaving her feeling lightheaded and free, she
suffered the hollow emptiness of her Master’s abandonment. Her shoulders sagged
with the loss.

“Sara?”

“Derek did it,” she said quietly, forcing her gaze to meet
Ethan’s concerned expression. “He pushed and refused to take ‘no’ for an
answer.”

Ethan pulled her into a fierce hug. “I know. I’m sorry. He’s
too green. I shouldn’t have sent him here.”

A hoarse laugh escaped over the absurdity of the situation
and the giddy happiness of realizing with Derek’s help, she’d purged herself of
Marc’s ghost. “I do love you, Ethan, but sometimes even you are a blind ass.”

He set her away from him, gauging her sanity, and she
laughed again.

“
Trust me
when I say, you sent the perfect Dom for
the job.” She pushed out of his arms and spun so Ethan could examine all of
her. “You’re looking at a new woman, my friend. The only baggage leaving XTC
Resorts with me tomorrow is the one I can carry in my hand.”

Ethan’s mouth curved in a weary smile. “You sure you’re not
hurt?”

“The blood’s Derek’s, he cut himself on the… Oh, never
mind.” She headed to the door, remembering she had no way to leave. “How’d you
get here? It seems my kayak’s drifted away in the storm and I need to find my
Master.”

“I took off on a Wave Runner when said kayak drifted to the
dock. I thought you’d capsized in the storm.”

“Nope.” Her smile made her cheeks ache. “Seems Derek saved
my life twice this afternoon.”

* * * * *

Derek slugged down his tonic water, slamming the glass on
the mahogany bar of the club and swiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.
He’d like to have something stronger, but it wouldn’t do to face Ethan with
alcohol in his system. He’d get stinking drunk tonight when he was back in
Boston. Isn’t that what someone did to celebrate the beginning of celibacy?
This weekend had been his last chance to prove himself a capable Dom, and he’d
fucked it up good. Even if Ethan didn’t blackball him at every BDSM club on the
planet, Derek would never step into another dungeon.

The screwup with Sara had only confirmed what he’d suspected
eighteen months ago—he had no right dominating anyone. The experience brought
only pain and misery to anyone foolish enough to submit to his stupidity.

He’d felt so confident as he’d pulled down her defenses,
encouraged by her willing response to his masterful technique. In the end, his
arrogance had blinded him and now Sara was paying for his inadequacies.

Sara.
He’d left the bungalow hours ago, the Wave
Runner unable to help him outrun his shame. He’d reached the main dock, covered
in blood, and had taken himself straight to the medic for five stitches—without
anesthesia. It was only the beginning of the penance he would pay for how he’d
mistreated Sara.

Derek had thought he’d read her right. Thought he’d
understood what she needed.

Never, in six years working in the dungeons, learning the
nuances of submissives, had he ever pushed someone past their breaking point.
Even before a safe word was uttered, a worthy Master knew when to stop. Knew
when to switch gears and go in another direction to give his submissive what
they needed to release their inner turmoil.

He’d thought Sara was ready, well on her way to healing.
He’d arrogantly butted up against her defenses, unwilling to admit defeat. That
is, until Ethan had burst in, acting as the conscience he’d steadfastly
ignored.

But, Christ, he and Sara had been in sync.
Like a
final puzzle piece dropping into place, he’d heard it echo in his heart. As her
body had shattered around his, he was sure he’d reached the core of her
anguish. He’d desperately wanted her to clear that one last hurdle to rid the
final hellish damage from her soul. Derek had pushed because, damn it all,
she’d needed the physical pain to be the conduit for releasing her inner pain.
It was textbook D/s.

Who was he kidding? Nothing Sara had told him had been in
the textbook. She’d given herself to an asshole who’d used her gentle spirit
against her. The bastard had held her prisoner for his own selfish
satisfaction. Who did shit like that?

Arrogant idiots, that’s who.
His fist slammed down on
the bar, bouncing his drink, pain singing up his arm.

“Don’t.”

The soft voice startled him.

He turned to find Sara standing behind him.

The black leather corset, intricately laced up her ribs and
belly, stopped just below her breasts, its shelf showcasing her mouthwatering
tits. Decorative chains hung from the gold collar she’d worn last night, their
ends looped around her pebbled nipples. A leather G-string hugged her mons,
barely covering the silken flesh. A garter belt hung from the bottom of the
corset and ran down her milky thighs, holding up black stockings that showed
every curve of her never-ending legs, finishing in come-fuck-me heels that
added four inches to her height.

Sara was breathtaking, and he had no right to be salivating
over seeing her. His cock, not understanding this gorgeous woman was
off-limits, jumped to attention nonetheless.

“Sara, sorry doesn’t—”

“Shhh.” She put her finger on his lips, the sweet scent of
her wrapping around his nostrils, stealing his breath. “Derek.” She paused, her
eyes and hand dropping simultaneously. “May I call you Derek?”

Christ
, even after the way he’d treated her, she
offered him respect he hadn’t earned. “I don’t deserve any other title.”

Her mouth curved and a small laugh escaped. “I beg to
differ.”

The bartender stopped and offered her a drink, but she
declined. Derek had no doubt she was headed to the Masters’ lodge for the
training he’d been invited to attend. The Doms would be lucky to have her
responsive body at the ends of their floggers and whips. Though he’d lost the
right to be among them, he allowed his gaze to travel the length of her sinuous
body, memorizing the details that would torment many future nights of
loneliness.

“Would you like to take a walk?” she asked. “The evening is
beautiful.”

His stomach clenched when her gaze dropped to his thighs.
There was no way in hell he’d allow her to give him the honor of dominating
her. He would accept whatever condemnation she threw his way. Sara deserved
that much before he left. But her absolution wasn’t even an option. “Please
don’t.” With a finger under her chin, Derek waited until her questioning gaze
met his. “I will walk with you, but not as your Master. I don’t deserve that
honor.”

She nodded and turned, leading them both out of the club and
toward the main building. Tropical flowers and lush foliage lined the stone
path, but neither competed with the heady scent of her or the stunning visual
of her bare ass provocatively swaying with each step. Her wheat-colored braid
nestled between delicate shoulder blades, but it was the ugly horror of his
teeth marks at the curve of her neck that captured his attention. Guilt
squeezed his heart. How much more would she have taken if Ethan hadn’t stopped
him? Fear snaked up his back and lifted the fine hairs at his nape. How the
hell hadn’t he sensed what Ethan had instinctively known when he’d burst into
the bungalow? Derek forced his shoulders back, fighting against the disgrace
and shame weighing on them.

The sun slipped below the horizon, the last vestiges of
light swirling in pastel shades of pink and orange. In the east, the sliver of
a moon hung in the ebony sky, pinpoints of stars spreading across its velvety
darkness.

The evening breeze blew in over the ocean as they crossed
the front of the main building. Sara was only vaguely aware of the people they
passed. It wasn’t their open admiration she sought, but the power of the man
walking beside her.

Every fiber of her being screamed to have Derek lead. Have
him strip her bare and use her for his own pleasure. But he blamed himself for
Ethan’s misunderstanding and now was unwilling to take his place as her Master.
Sara had no doubt if her dear friend hadn’t burst in like a Neanderthal
protecting his woman, that she would happily be bound in the dungeon at the
Masters’ lodge, every muscle taut with the anticipation of Derek’s commands.
Because, if the afternoon had proven anything to Sara, it was that she wanted
more of Derek’s domination.

Now she was forced to implement a plan B and prove to Derek
that trusting his instincts had healed a submissive’s very old and very raw
wounds.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and Sara had all she
could do to keep her feet steady on the path. Anticipation had been her
constant companion as she’d taken over an hour to prepare herself for him.

A long soak in a hot tub of rose-scented oils and a sharp
razor had smoothed every inch of skin. She’d washed her hair twice,
straightening it until it glowed, and at the last minute deciding on the French
braid currently bouncing against her back to keep it out of her way. Makeup
covered the worst of the angry cut on her cheek and the bruises and scrapes on
her body. The butter-soft corset, fishnet stockings and stiletto heels she’d
slipped into before leaving the bungalow had been a splurge she’d brought from
home, and from Derek’s hungry look back at the club—a total bargain.

Now, as they neared the Masters’ lodge, she could only hope
she could convince Derek she was everything he needed. She stopped midway
across the bridge overlooking the wraparound pool, the bondage equipment along
its edge currently standing idle. She didn’t want to screw this up. Sara just
couldn’t imagine leaving the island tomorrow without plans to see Derek again.
She’d travel anywhere to be with him, if only he’d have her.

The symphony of insects blended seamlessly with the steady
wash of the Atlantic in the distance, and she worked to slow her heart to its
natural rhythm. It was a night meant for lovers. She hoped Derek felt the same.
But when he stopped behind her, his body rigid, she wondered if she would be
able to convince him he owed it to the BDSM community to keep working as a Dom,
even if it wasn’t with her.

Leaning her elbows on the wooden railing of the arched
bridge, Sara waited him out. It went against her nature to speak first.

“Sara, I never intended to let things get out of control
this afternoon.”

“It takes time to learn the nuances of a stubborn
submissive,” she replied without looking at him.

“I’ve been in a lot of dungeons and worked with many subs. I’m
not a stupid man.”

“And I’m a big girl.”

“But I was the one who was supposed to be in control. I
should have stopped when I sensed it was too much, not continue to press you
past your comfort. Safe word or not, I should have known when to stop. I’m not sure
why I didn’t.”

She turned to him, daring to look into his eyes. Even in the
waning light of the evening, she could see what this confession was costing
him. “Because I
needed
you to push past my defenses.”

“I hate to remind you, but subspace isn’t the place where
rational thoughts reside. That was my call.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself.”

“I’m not being hard enough. I didn’t keep you safe. Period.”
Anger laced through his words. “It’s the first job of any Dom. Care for your
subs. Ethan has drilled that into my head. He had every right to be furious
with my actions.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, not to hide her
nakedness but to protect her heart. “Yes, well, Ethan tends to be a little
overprotective where I’m concerned.” She paused, working to measure her words.
Not all her secrets were hers alone. “Derek, there’s…a history between Ethan
and me.”