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Authors: Sindra van Yssel

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He had no desire to break that will, but he did want to
challenge it. He pushed aside the gusset of her panties and pushed two fingers
inside her wet pussy. He was rewarded by a loud sigh, and her hips flexed to
meet him. Her channel was tight around his fingers, but it relaxed as he slowly
fucked her with them.

“Don’t move from where I’ve put you, no matter what I do to
you, Zoe. Not without using a safe word.”

“If you keep doing that, ‘ouch’ will be the furthest thing
from my mind.”

“I’ll keep doing this then. But not just this.” He sucked
her left nipple hard through her dress, and was rewarded with a sharp breath.
He was willing to bet her eyelids fluttered open too, although he wasn’t
looking at her face. “Good girl,” he purred and slipped a third finger inside
her.

“No fisting,” she said with sudden urgency, tightening up
again. “Your hands are too big, Sir.”

“Yes, they are. And your pussy is too nice and tight.” He
put his eyes at her level again, and sure enough hers were open. “I won’t hurt
you, Zoe.” He was willing to bet that in the right position, with lots of time
and lube, he could get his hand inside her. But her reaction made him think
that it had probably been done to her before, and not for her pleasure either,
nor probably by someone who knew what he was doing. Without a lot of patience
and technique, it could have been quite traumatic. She didn’t need to know he
thought it was possible he could give her pleasure that way. Right now she
needed to know her limits were going to be respected, and that she pleased him.

She nodded, took a long, deep breath and closed her eyes
again. Lines around her eyelids showed him that they were scrunched too tightly
for the action to be entirely natural. She was willing herself to trust, and he
wasn’t going to betray that effort.

He turned his hand so that his thumb rested against her
clit. Her panties made it more difficult, but he had strong fingers from years
of playing the piano, and he wasn’t going to let a bit of fabric and elastic
push him from where he wanted to be. He kissed her lips, and her tongue touched
his. Her nostrils flared as she breathed and kissed at the same time. His hand
cupped her breast as he pulled back from the kiss to let her breathe easier.

“How do you like to be touched here, Zoe? Tell me. A soft
caress?” His palm moved over her breasts, from one to other, fondling and
kneading gently. “Something more focused?” He rubbed around a nipple with two
fingers, letting them brush the rigid peak through the fabric. “Or perhaps a
little intensity.” He pinched, lightly.

She bit her lip, as if hesitating. “Intensity, please.”

He smiled and pinched some more. “I’ll enjoy that too.”

“Harder!” She blushed. “Sir. I’m sorry, Sir. I didn’t mean—”

He hushed her by doing exactly as she requested, and she let
out a sound halfway between a whimper and a moan. She rocked her hips against
the motions of his hand.

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?” Her need was obvious. He
slowed down, trying to decide whether to give her the release she craved or to
hold back. If he gave it to her, would she still want more? But as much as he
wanted to play with the eager sub, he wanted to reward her trust more. Maybe
she wouldn’t want more right away, but she wouldn’t be so afraid to get what
she needed the next time. She needed healing, and he knew how to help, even
though he suspected someone else would reap the benefits. He stroked his thumb
across her clit and watched her gasp with sudden pleasure.

“I have you right where I want you, Zoe.” He moved his other
hand, teased her other nipple to rigidity and then squeezed right as he curled
his fingers to stroke her G-spot and rubbed his thumb roughly over her clit.

Her head fell back, her back arched. Her lower teeth bit
into her upper lip, and the sound that came out of her mouth was an animal-like
whine, but he was willing to bet it would have been a scream if she’d let
herself. Someday, someone would hear that scream.

He let go of her breast and caught her as she flopped
backward. “Oh my god,” she whispered when she caught her breath. Her cheeks
flushed pink, either from exertion or embarrassment or both.

“You were beautiful,” he told her, slipping his fingers out
of her to hold her better. “That was just what I wanted.”

“What
you
wanted.” Disbelief was written all over her
face.

“Yes. What I wanted. I wanted to give you pleasure. I know
that’s not so very alien to you.” His cock was hard, making a ridge in the
front of his pants, and yet he felt satisfied. He could stroke it later if he
needed to. He couldn’t deny he wanted to bury it deep in her pussy, or her
mouth, but he didn’t need that as much as he needed to make sure she was okay.

She stared at him for a long moment and then nodded. “Giving
pleasure can be a wonderful thing. All I ever wanted, at least for a long time.
But it seemed that pleasing was harder and harder to do as time went on, and I
had to do more and more to achieve it. Only my pain pleased.” She frowned. “You
don’t want to hear about that. I’m spoiling a wonderful moment. Thank you.” She
pulled herself back upright. “Thank you, Sir.”

“If you need to talk about it, I think I’m a pretty good
listener.”

Her mouth smiled but her eyes fixed him with a stare. “I bet
you are. Did you enjoy pinching my poor nipples, even though it was causing me
pain?”

“I enjoyed causing you pain, Zoe,” he told her honestly.
“And I enjoyed that it was giving you pleasure, or at least making you hornier.
I enjoyed both those aspects of it.” He wanted to push her, and he’d have to
rely on his instinct to know how far, even though she might be an emotional
minefield because of her history. He brushed her cheek. “You’re blushing. Did
you enjoy coming in a very public place?”

The pink turned to red. “No,” she said sharply. “And no one
was paying any attention, anyway.”

“Most people weren’t,” he agreed. “A few were.” He hadn’t
looked around, but he was pretty confident that they hadn’t gone completely
unnoticed. There were people a few meters away. He didn’t think she was being
entirely honest with her no, either. She’d come too quickly, too easily, even
if she had been holding it in for a long time.

That didn’t necessarily mean everything about what happened
was perfect, but he doubted any of it was very far off. He’d usually call a sub
out for lying, but he gave her a nudge toward the truth instead. “I enjoyed it.
I like the way you’re blushing now. And while I’d love taking you in private,
giving you an orgasm in front of a few dozen people is its own special thrill.”

He grinned at her as he watched her process that. For a
moment her features seemed to get softer, but her expression soon turned to a
wariness he recognized from earlier. “If it pleases you, then it pleases me,
Sir,” she murmured, and he couldn’t tell if she meant it or if it was a formula
she’d been taught. Possibly there was a little of both.

“We could go back to your hotel, or I could take you to my
house,” Nick offered.

She paled. “No.” She bit her lip. “I mean, no Sir. The
people here make it safer.”

He ignored the selfish part of him that wanted to pout
because she didn’t trust him. She had no reason to trust him, and she’d already
given of herself more than he had expected. “They do, don’t they. So we’ll have
to live with them. A necessary evil. And if a few voyeurs help make you hot,
well, that’s fine too.” He winked.

“Seems you’re pretty turned-on yourself.” She looked
straight at his crotch, and there was no mistaking her meaning. “Do you need me
to take care of that?”

Here? In private, the offer would have been welcome. He wouldn’t
be the first to fuck a girl at the club, or get a blowjob in front of everyone,
for that matter. But he’d rather do without the distraction of the others, and
yet private was totally out. Doing it in front of other people might be hot as
hell if they were doing it because it was sexy, but not just because it was
safe.

She obviously sensed his hesitation, because she interrupted
his thoughts. “I’m sorry, Sir. If you wanted me to do anything about it, you
would have asked.” She put her hands on her knees and turned them palm upwards.
Her gaze was a few inches from meeting his.

He took her chin in his hand and moved her head until her
eyes quit dodging and looked at him. “What I want is for you to speak up. Yes,
I would love for us to do something about it, but I’d rather that happened in
private. If you’re not ready for that, I can wait.”
Now I’ll tell my cock
that, because I can already imagine what those lips would be like around it.

“I don’t think I’ll be ready for that for a long time, Sir.”
She winced. “And I’ll be gone soon.”

As if he could forget that little detail. If he wasn’t going
to be inside her, he wanted the next best thing, to be pressed up against her
and hold her in his arms. He stretched out his hands to her. “Rise. We’re going
to dance.”

Her eyes widened. That, clearly, she hadn’t expected. She
put her hands in his and let him help her to her feet. “Permission to speak,
Sir?”

“Of course.” There was a time and place for telling a sub
she couldn’t speak without permission, he supposed, but a first date wasn’t it.
Even if he really knew his partner, he’d rather she said whatever she needed
to. Didn’t he tell her he liked her speaking up?

“I just wanted to warn you that I have two left feet, Sir.
And that I haven’t danced since college.”

He smiled. “Where did you go to school?”

“RISD,” she murmured, and after she caught his bemused look
added, “Rhode Island School of Design.”

“Rhode Island is in the Eastern United States somewhere?”

She nodded, trying not to smile. “I keep forgetting you come
from a different world. Even though you have a funny accent.” Her eyes went
wide. “Oops! I’m sorry, I don’t mean funny like, I just—”

“I was appreciating your Southern drawl myself. But I guess
you haven’t always been in Texas.” He put his arm around her waist and added,
“I don’t care about your left feet, and for the record, I don’t have an
accent.” He winked at her to let her know he was kidding, and steered her
through the crowd. Mostly, people parted to let the linked couple through.

“I guess it’s all relative, isn’t it? No privileged frame of
reference, and all that?”

“From art to physics—my, you are full of surprises.”

She grinned. “I’m educated, I am. Got all that book larnin’,
fillin’ my head full o’ nonsense.”

“Fortunately for you, I find nonsense highly attractive.”

Chapter Four

 

Zoe didn’t know what to make of a Dom who didn’t jump on her
every mistake as an excuse to punish her. He was almost easygoing, but the way
he made her come with his hands and his fingers didn’t seem so easy. He found
out what turned her on, and then turned up the intensity until it was all she
could do not to scream.

Anyway, if he could deal with her telling him he had a funny
accent, he might forgive her for the inevitable moment when she stepped on his
foot. He couldn’t say she hadn’t warned him.

He pulled her on to the dance floor as the music changed.
She didn’t know the song, but it was dark, heavy stuff with a solid rhythm, the
sort of music that made one want to hang on to someone because it was a scary
world out there. He didn’t try to do anything fancy, but held her close with
his hand on the small of her back. She could feel his erection pressing up
against her, and it was a lovely feeling knowing she had caused it. For so long
with Stu the only thing that seemed to get him hard was her pain, and it had
made her feel undesirable. Clearly, that was Stu’s problem, because this man
reacted to her body quite nicely.

She rubbed her belly against the ridge in his pants and
looked up with a mischievous grin. His eyebrows rose, and he kissed her under
her ear before speaking. He needed to be that close to be heard over the music
without shouting. It was much louder on the dance floor than on the edges of
the room. “You want to play that kind of game, do you?”

His hands slid down to her ass and gave her a squeeze. He
lifted her effortlessly a few inches off the floor until her mound was up
against his cock, and grinded against her to the music. She was about to
protest that everyone could see what was going on when his lips crushed against
hers and his tongue invaded her mouth. The kiss made her feel lightheaded, and
for a moment she had what she always wanted from submission, the feeling that
she would and more importantly could do absolutely anything that was asked of
her. Thoughts of being fucked on the dance floor, or even being pushed to the
floor and wrapping her lips around his cock until he flooded her mouth passed
through her mind.
Master.

And then the moment was gone. He must have sensed it,
because he set her back on the ground and loosened his grasp. She couldn’t let
herself feel that way again. It wasn’t safe. Questing for that high was what
had gotten her into trouble in the first place.
No.

“What’s wrong?”

“Me.” She wanted to give him a better explanation than that.
I’m broken, and all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put me
together again. But that would be babbling, and he doesn’t want to hear me
babble.

“You’re shaking.”

How many men would care to notice when they had a hard cock
and a woman to satisfy themselves with? But it didn’t matter what a sweetie he
was, because she was going to be gone in a few days. “I’m sorry, Sir.” She
tried to breathe deeply and calm herself down.

“It’s okay, darlin’. Relax. She’ll be right, mate.”

Zoe blinked, not understanding why she was being referred to
in the third person. “Huh?”

“Sorry. It means that it will all be okay in the end.”

“You can’t know that.”

“You can’t know that, Sir,” he corrected.

She laughed at the incongruity of what she’d said and the
honorific. “Thank you,” she said. “I think that was just what I needed. Sir.”

He smiled and took her hand in his, his other arm around her
waist. “Let’s dance. We don’t have to make it dirty dancing to have fun.”

The grinding wasn’t really what set me off
, she wanted
to protest. But she nodded and leaned her head against his shoulder. The
closeness felt good. She felt guilty about not trying to satisfy him the way he
had satisfied her, but she tried to shake it off and enjoy herself.

They swayed lazily for a long few minutes. She enjoyed the
solidity of his body against her. It wasn’t threatening, and it wasn’t
especially complicated or difficult. More importantly, he didn’t seem to mind
the couple of times she’d stepped on his feet. Maybe the hard black boots he wore
were enough protection. He tipped his toe, scooted her foot off his and kept
dancing.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked.

“I thought I’d just be a tourist. I hadn’t decided where
though.”

“I’ll pick you up at ten then, and take you to the zoo.
We’ll go by tram, if that’s okay, it’s faster than driving near the CBD.”

Central business district, she remembered. Nobody seemed to
call it downtown. “That’s fine,” she said, not minding the idea of taking the
tram, and then realizing that she’d agreed to the whole trip in the process.
Sneaky Dom. She had been intending to make it to the zoo anyway. She much
preferred to see animals in the wild, but it took a lot of time and patience,
and she was all too aware of the shortness of her vacation.

“I don’t think I’d be very good company at the zoo,” she
objected. She liked to sit and draw, and that generally took longer than most
people wanted to spend looking at one animal.

He chuckled. “Yes, but you told me you’d be rubbish to dance
with too, and that’s not been true.”

She didn’t think she’d used quite those words, but it was
close enough to what she thought. “Are you saying you don’t trust me?”

“Not when you’re being hard on yourself, no.”

“You’ll be bored,” she warned. “I’ll want to bring my
sketchbook.”

“That was the point, yes. You’re very talented.”

She stared at him for a moment. He must have peeked at her
sketchbook when he brought her home. She sighed contentedly. Stu always
complained she was taking too long, as if she could work any faster and still
get it right, and of all his faults, she suspected that was one that she’d find
almost universal. There couldn’t be anything more boring than watching someone
else draw, could there?

Well, he’d find out. It was nice of him to be willing to
try.

 

She would never have let him know where she was staying if
he hadn’t taken her home when she got blitzed. Letting someone know where you
were was a danger, and it would take only a moment for a strong man to
overpower her when she opened the door. But he hadn’t taken advantage of her
when she was drunk, and for that reason more than any other she trusted him.

She’d debated about what to wear. Her little black dress was
the only thing she had that was remotely date-worthy, but it was completely
inappropriate for going to the zoo. And she’d definitely need to wear her
sensible shoes. If he hadn’t been meeting her in the morning, she might have
gone out and got herself an outfit, but there really wasn’t time. So she went
with sneakers, comfy blue jeans and a greenish plaid blouse, and after
hesitating several times she unbuttoned an extra button on the blouse. He’d
earned some concession.

He knocked on her hotel room door at ten, right on time. She
closed her laptop. Stu had sent her two emails, one asking her to forgive him and
re-marry him, the other telling her she was a lousy sub and a bitch. She really
needed to stop reading his messages. At least she hadn’t cared enough to notice
which order he sent them in. It could be either.

She opened the door. He was wearing jeans and a snug T-shirt
that showed off his muscles to good effect. He took her in from head to toe
with one sweep of his gaze. His smile surprised her, because she half expected
to be a disappointment.

“Ready to go, or need a few minutes?” he asked.

“Just let me get my sketchbook. And do you mind if I take my
paints?” She had been debating between watercolors and pencils, but after
seeing his smile she was definitely in a mood for color. So much more cheerful.

“Of course not. Want help carrying? All I have to carry is a
book.”

She raised her eyebrows. “A book?”

He held up a worn hardback copy of
The Power of One
,
by Bryce Courtenay. “An old favorite. I figured you’d be a while drawing, so I
should expect to amuse myself, and I’d rather do that next to you than by wandering
the rest of the zoo. The zoo, unlike you, is not going away soon.”

“Oh.” She was flattered, and at the same time impressed by
his practicality. She turned and got her stuff, aware of his gaze on her. She
didn’t really need him to carry anything. She was used to keeping it all in her
bag, and her travel set of watercolors fit very nicely, but she handed him the
watercolor block after all. He took a glance at it and then tucked it under his
arm with his book.

* * * * *

It was tempting to try to imagine how the platypus would
look if the light were better or if it would stay still for a fraction of a
second, and try to paint that. It would certainly make a more marketable
painting. But there was something gripping about the way it darted about in the
unlit water. In the pictures she had seen, they always looked like living
evidence that God had a twisted sense of humor, little bits of various animals
grafted improbably onto an ungainly shape. But in motion in the water, the
platypus was perfect, its duck-like bill and beaver-like tail making it a
streamlined and speedy swimmer.

She painted it as it was, a blur against the darkness but
still quite recognizable as a unique animal. She was transfixed in a way she
hadn’t been when painting the cute echidna that had wobbled out to greet them,
or even the wallaby and the emu as they wrestled briefly over a head of cabbage
to the wallaby’s inevitable defeat. She didn’t remember she had company until
she was finished.

Nick was watching her, and he didn’t try to look away when
she caught him at it. His book was closed and sitting on the bench, the flap of
the dust jacket no longer marking his place. She glanced down at it, then at
him. He was smiling. “How long?” she asked.

“You’ve been at it for a bit over an hour this time. You’re
amazingly quick. Lovely picture too, you’ve really captured the beastie.”

“And you’re amazingly patient.” She felt the heat rise in
her face at his compliment. “I meant how long have you been finished with your
book and staring at me? I know about how long it takes me to work.” In her
embarrassment, she sounded snappish, and she didn’t like it. He hadn’t done
anything to deserve it.

He didn’t seem to notice either. “Only half an hour. I can’t
paint, so I have to memorize.”

That didn’t help. “I’m not worth memorizing,” she said.

“I beg to differ. I suppose I could have taken a picture
with my phone.”

She frowned. She wasn’t a fan of photographs of herself,
although there wasn’t any harm in it she could put her finger on. “Well, too
bad you missed your opportunity. I’d have noticed that. I wasn’t that far in a
trance.”

His smirk made her wonder if he had taken a picture of her,
after all. It was true she hadn’t noticed him put his book down. She decided
not to press it, because if he had a picture, she certainly didn’t want to see
it.

A rumble in her tummy made her look at her watch. It was
nearly three o’clock, and she hadn’t eaten anything since he’d picked her up
and had only had some jam on toast for breakfast. The worst thing was the lightheadedness
she felt when she realized it. She knew that she had the same amount of blood
sugar before realizing how late it was as after, and yet somehow she didn’t
feel like it, and she hated that as a weakness. It always happened, and getting
lost in her art was nothing new.

His face went serious. “You okay, Zoe? You look kind of
pale. Something happen?”

She bit her lip. Pain usually helped wake her. “Nope,
nothing. I’m betting the zoo has outrageously priced food.”

He shrugged. “No worries. I’ll treat. The real question is,
do you want to do more painting here at the zoo, or even have a wander? If so,
it doesn’t really make sense to leave to eat, even if it is a bit more.”

She glanced back at her painting of the platypus. She had
put everything into it, and she felt drained by more than lack of food. “No, I
don’t think I’ll be painting anymore today.” She’d pushed on before, when she’d
finished something she felt that passionately about, and she was never happy
with the results.

“Maybe we could have something here, something to tide us
over?” She wasn’t going to eat as much as she wanted, not with him paying. She
already felt indebted to him. It seemed each time they’d gotten together, it
was all about her and what she needed. Her need to get home, her pleasure, her
painting. She didn’t get a chance to give of herself, and she wanted that.

But she knew he still wanted time in private with her, and
that still scared her.

He stood up and offered his hand. She took it and let him
help her up. She carefully picked up the two paintings that had been sitting on
the bench. The sun was high overhead and had been shining on them quite
directly, and they were adequately dry. She let go of him for a moment to pack
them up carefully, and then took his hand again to walk with him.

His hand felt warm, and she almost regretted it when food
turned out to be quite close. But having expected rather plain fare, the
heaping plate of pad thai she ended up with was most welcome. “This is
delicious!”

He smiled, a steaming plate of the savory noodle dish in
front of him as well. “Glad you think so. I’m hoping it’s not so good it
dissuades you from having dinner with me.”

“Mr. Carrady, keep this up and I might get the impression
you actually like me.”

“Whatever it takes to get it through to you.”

“Why?” Couldn’t he see that she was damaged goods? Scarred
physically, afraid to be with him alone?

“You’ve got spunk. You tell me what you want and don’t want,
and I get the feeling someone tried very hard to beat that out of you. I’ve
always had a lot of respect for people who get knocked down and get right back
up again. And I admit I have an ulterior motive.”

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