One Night in His Custody (3 page)

“I want you to handcuff me.”

“
Why do you want to be handcuffed?”

“
So I can't stop you doing ... things ... to me.”

Michael chuckled. 
“Things?  You mean like waxing your legs?”

God! He
isn't going to make this easy, is he?
  “No! I mean like, fucking me.”

“
I don't need handcuffs for that.”  Michael cleared his throat, making it obvious to Olivia that he wasn't as unaffected by their conversation as he was trying to suggest. “What else?”

“
I want you to make me suck your cock.  I want you to force me to my knees, tug on my hair and thrust your dick into my mouth.”

“
Good girl.”

Olivia took a step towards him
, but he raised a hand to stop her. 

“
What I want most of all is for you to want me,” she said. “I want you show me how it felt to hold back all those years ago.  I want everything you denied me.”

Michael closed his eyes, his head dropping for a moment as if her words had hit him hard.  When he looked up at her again, his posture was that of a man in control. 
“I want you to have it. All of it. But you need to do exactly as I say.  Are you willing to do that?”

“
Will I be safe?”

“
Always.”

“
Will it hurt?”

He grinned. 
“Only if you want it to.”

Olivia's stomach clenched as she suffered a moment of doubt
, but that sensation was immediately followed by one of intense excitement and an almost insatiable need to find out just what he wanted to do to her.

“
Then, yes.  I'll try.  But I'm not sure I can give you what you want.”

“
You have already given me the most important thing—your trust. You have no idea how much that means.”

Olivia glowed at the words, her pleasure increasing at the knowledge she'd made him happy. He got to his feet and crossed to stand before her.  Taking the helmet from her head, he tossed it onto the bed and cupped her face in his hands. 
“I'm trusting you to be honest with me and tell me truthfully if you don't want to do something, okay?”

She nodded. 
“Okay, but am I allowed to ask for something?”

“
Of course.”

“
Can you please just kiss me, Michael?”

He groaned
, and his hands slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head to tilt it just so.  Olivia thought she might cry if his lips didn't touch hers soon, but she stood quietly as his gaze roamed her face, finally landing on her mouth as his head descended.  She winced as his hand tightened in her hair, and he smiled.

“
Want me to stop?”

“
No...”

Michael groaned and crushed his lips to hers, his tongue slipping inside her mouth to coax her into opening wider.  One of his hands began to move down her body, and she expected him to slide her bra off her arms where it had been hanging loosely for the last few minutes. But instead, he placed the straps gently on her shoulders and reached around her to fasten it.

A lump of fear lodged in her throat, and she could do no more than whisper a hoarse plea. “Please don't reject me again.”

Her voice cracked on a sob, betraying her vulnerability to the man she'd vowed would never hurt her again.  Olivia couldn't believe she'd been stupid enough to think he wanted her any more now than he ever had before.

“I'm not rejecting you. I never really have.  There's so much I don't have time to tell you now. But if, with a clear head, you agree to what I've asked you to do, then you'll understand tomorrow night.”

“
And if I decide not to play your little game?”

“
That's up to you.”

“
Well, I can't consent to something if you won't tell me what I am consenting to.”

“
Your fears are understandable but unfounded. I can promise you that you will be totally safe and I will do nothing to harm you.  I can also promise you pleasure like you have never experienced before, but only if you give me your trust and completely surrender to my will.”

Ok
ay, so the pleasure bit sounded good. Even the way he said the word made her insides convulse. But surrendering didn't sound like fun. Olivia studied Michael as intently as she could through vision blurred by equal parts of myopia and tequila. He didn't look like the kind of jerk who seemed to think a woman's clitoris was in the back of her throat and that interminable blow-jobs would bring her the same pleasure as they did him.

“
But what exactly—”

“
Enough talking for now.  I've got to go, but I need you to promise me one thing.   Can you do that?”

She nodded, her irritation at him calling the shots as per usual soothed a little by the seductive edge to his voice.

“When I leave, I want you to crawl naked between the sheets and run your hands all over that beautiful caramel body of yours. I want you to say my name aloud when you slide a finger between your legs. And when you come, I want you to pay close attention to every sensation and know with every fiber of your being that the orgasms I can give you will feel even more incredible, be even more intense, but only if you submit to me completely.”

The heavy throb in her groin beat harder and faster as his words filtered through the sensual fog engulfing her. The arrogant confidence oozing from his every pore should have offended her, but it didn't. Maybe it was the booze
, but she knew with a conviction that was almost evangelical that he spoke the truth.

“
Will you do as I ask?”

The hunger in his gaze as he waited for her reply made it clear how much her answer mattered to him. Olivia nodded as a blush scorched her cheeks, the desire to please him almost overwhelming her.

“Good girl.” I want you to think about what I've said, okay?  I will come by at eight tomorrow evening.”

Olivia nodded. 
“Do you want me to wear anything special?”

“
I don't want you to wear anything at all.  You can wear a robe to let me in, then come straight up here to your room and take it off. I will follow you up a few minutes later, and I will expect to find you here, your hands placed flat on top of that dresser, and your body open and waiting for me.  And I will expect you to have removed all of your pubic hair.  Is that something you are happy to do?”

“
Yes.  Anything else?”

Michael pulled her close, pressing her body against his as he rested his lips against the shell of her ear. 
“I want to you masturbate every time you think of me until we meet again, but, after tonight, you are not allowed to let yourself come.  Are we clear?”

“
I don't know if I'll be able to help myself.”

“
Try not to, but don't lie to me about it. If you lie, I'll know ... and then I'll have to punish you.”

“
I don't like the sound of that. I'm not into pain.”

Michael smiled. 
“Neither am I, or at least nothing too intense.  But the punishment I am referring to is more about deprivation than it is pain.  Being driven to the point of orgasm again and again, but not being allowed to come, is a far greater punishment than anything else I can think of.”

Michael put on his helmet, making him seem even more huge and powerful than he already was.  Lifting her chin with the tip of a finger, he tilted her face up towards his.  A soft kiss brushed across her trembling lips, so gentle that she barely felt it. Then he left the room without a backward glance.

Liv sagged to the bed, her body suddenly going limp as it was released from the thrall of Michael's magnetic personality.  She wriggled out of her underwear and flung it across the room, still a bit annoyed that Michael hadn't been here to take it off for her. For the first time in her life though, she was sure he would have wanted to do it. That and more.

The thought of the hungry want in his eyes sent her hands drifting upwards to her breasts. She cupped them in her palms, imagining the look Michael would have on his face if he was here to watch her. Her fingers parted to allow her nipples to poke through the gaps between her knuckles. Liv squeezed, enjoying the delicious friction she'd created. It felt so good, she almost forgot that Michael wanted her to do more than just play with her breasts.  She opened her eyes and looked over towards the chair in the corner of her darkened bedroom.  The brown wool throw tossed across the back of it looked almost black in the half light
, and Liv was just short-sighted enough to imagine she could see Michael in his uniform, sitting in the chair.

A spike of lust ripped through her body, and her fingers plunged between her thighs, hard and fast, as she said his name out loud.  Her clit swelled and throbbed in response to a touch that was harder than she usually liked it but just what she needed right at that very moment. A tremble raced up her thighs and down her torso, meeting somewhere deep inside her groin, joining with the sensations created by her fingers and sending her pelvis jerking upwards in a series of frantic, desperate thrusts.  Liv strained to keep her eyes on the chair as wave after wave of white hot pleasure almost tore her apart.  Her breath came in hard, painful gasps while she trembled, moaned and then wept until the last spasms of the hardest orgasm she'd ever had ebbed away.

“Beat
that
, PC Williams,” Liv muttered, her voice so weak she felt more than heard herself utter the challenge.

She turned onto her side, aware that she hadn't taken the throw pillows off the bed or bothered to remove her makeup, but she was too tired to care. 

Chapter
Two

“Get your hands off me. I've done nothin' wrong.”

Michael hauled the youth to his feet and pushed him against a wall, holding him there with his body weight while he coughed away the urge to throw up. It had been many years since he'd had to chase someone so hard and so far. He might never have caught the lad if he hadn't stumbled off a
curb and lost enough momentum for Michael to bring him down with a hard rugby tackle. 

The young man he'd been chasing wasn't faring much better and was having trouble keeping up an endless stream of obscenities and complaints while struggling to catch his breath.

“Let me go, you stupid twat. I told you, you got the wrong fucking man.”

“
Then why did you run when I told you to stop, Jimmy?” The man was well known to the local force and was arrested almost once a month for drug related offences. If he wasn't busted selling the stuff, he was picked up for stealing to feed his habit. The endless cycle never stopped, and, unless Jimmy wised up sometime soon, death in his early twenties was the only future Michael could predict for him. Either he'd mess with the wrong person or fill his veins with more poison than he could handle, and it would all be over.

“
I panicked, that's all.  Ow!” Jimmy yelped when Michael barely grasped his wrist, and he knew this was gonna be one of those days. “Did you see that?” Jimmy yelled to the crowd of onlookers. “Police brutality. He's breaking my fucking arm! Help me. Help!”

“
Give it a rest, son.” Michael grabbed his other arm and cuffed him. “You've picked a bad day to mess with me. I'm not in the mood for this, so shut your mouth and stop swearing before I add a Section 5 Public Order Offence to your shoplifting charge.”

Jimmy continued to protest, accusing Michael of being a racist and targeting him because he was black.  That touched a nerve
, and he was grateful when the car showed up and he could offload Jimmy to someone else before he did something he'd regret.

Michael had suffered racial abuse
, too—from the black community as well as the white one. Interracial couples were still a rarity in his town, especially back when he and Liv had first fallen in love. Even one of his former best friends had questioned their relationship, asking him if he was seeing Liv because he had a kink for black women. Michael had hit him, not something he was proud of now, but something he had done without hesitation or regret at the time.

Olivia's family had given her a hard time
, too, at first, and weren't too subtle in letting them both know that they wanted her to meet a nice West Indian boy from a good family. But once they'd seen the genuine affection between him and Liv, and how deeply he'd loved and respected her, they accepted him.  The same couldn't be said for his family, and his relationship with his father had never truly recovered, especially when Michael Williams Senior had vocalized his relief at hearing that “the black girl” was no longer part of his son's life.

A few hours later, with Jimmy safely contained in a police cell at the station ready for court in the morning, Michael clocked out at the end of his shift and changed out of his uniform. He stared at it for a moment after he'd hung it up, then tore it off the hanger and shoved it along with his helmet into a rucksack he kept at the bottom of his locker. His boss would go mental if he knew what Michael planned to do while wearing it later
, but as long as he didn't parade around in public with it on, nobody would ever know. He sensed that Liv liked to see him wearing it and, tonight, whatever Liv wanted, she was gonna get ... along with some stuff she had no idea she wanted yet.

The drive home was uneventful, although that did nothing to calm his nerves. His apartment in a converted warehouse overlooked the river
, and the exposed pipe work and bare brick walls suited his lifestyle. He never had anybody around to visit so didn't need much more than the massive aniline leather sofa adorning the wall facing the floor to ceiling windows and his state-of-the-art television and stereo. The sleek white kitchen containing every built-in appliance he could ever need got used only to wash up the one plate and fork he used every night to eat whatever his chosen takeaway was that day.

Michael went straight to the locked cabinet he kept hidden behind his shoe rack in the bottom of his wardrobe. He took out every bit of equipment he had
—gag balls, clamps, ropes, butt plugs, vibes, masks, whips and paddles—and laid them on the bed.
Should I take one or two of the plugs and maybe the paddle?
He picked up the paddle, his favorite tool, and turned it over and over in his hand, warming the leather with his palm, but then he threw it all back in the bag and slammed the cabinet closed. God knows what Liv would think if he turned up with this stuff. Besides, improvising with whatever was at hand was Michael's favorite way to play. But the subs he'd met in the past had expected him to have some standard equipment and didn't seem interested in experimenting, which is why he didn't much care for the scene. He'd never trained his own sub, and the women he had met in specialist clubs were focused solely on finding a Dom who'd do the things they craved. They used him the same way he used them—to find the kind of acceptance and release they couldn't get anywhere else—and it had been many years since he'd cared enough to experiment with anyone. 

No,
he and Liv would discover together what worked for them, and he'd follow her lead for a while to see where her boundaries were before pushing her to try more. 

Later, as he stood in the shower and let the water pound the back of his neck, Michael watched his cock grow hard just at the thought of her. The power she had over his body scared him. Always had. Wanting her so badly brought urges to the fore that he hadn't known he had. His fantasies back then had consisted of forcing her to her knees and making her beg to suck his cock, or watching her squirm against the ropes he wanted to tie her up with as he played with her body. And even worse than that, in his fantasies, Liv wanted him to do those things to her. The shy,
God-fearing girl he'd fallen in love with just couldn't have the same fucked up urges as he did, could she? There was just no way Liv wanted the same animalistic sex he did.

They made out less and less often when Michael had trouble separating his urges from his actions. Not that he'd ever gone any further than holding her wrists above her head and pinning her beneath him. Liv had fought against him, giggling loudly and screaming in mock protest, totally unaware that Michael's cock was painfully hard and threatening to bust out of his jeans as he imagined keeping her trapped beneath him while he tore the clothes from her pert little body and fucked her senseless.

It confused and terrified him to know that he wanted to do such seemingly violent things to the tiny woman he would gladly die to protect. Michael didn't know what he was back then, and there was just no-one around to ask. He'd been one of the last of his friends and family to take advantage of the Internet for the endless source of information it was. By the time he'd spent months working his way through the sleazy stories and porn videos that seemed to talk about people like him, he felt even more like a perverted freak who had no business even putting his hands on someone as special as Olivia.  Years later, he came to understand who and what he was, thanks to a woman he’d met at the BDSM club it had taken him six months to get up the nerve to visit. But by that time, his relationship was history, and Liv had moved away from the city they shared.

Now, she was back. And for some insane reason, she still seemed to want him. Michael didn't know whether to thank his lucky stars or curse fate for putting him in this position again. He dared not hope that she might still love him
, but at least she didn't seem to hero worship him anymore. Part of the reason he'd never been able to show her what he needed was because he couldn't bear to lose the respect she had for him.

He soaped up his hands, taking far longer than he needed to. Michael knew the minute he touched his body, there was only going to be one outcome. Wanking over the image of Liv, especially in that cheeky little tutu she'd had on last night, wasn't the problem. It was the feelings associated with the act that scared him. Michael had lost count of how many times he'd shouted out his love for her as he came all over his hand, the wall
... anything that was nearby in fact. The orgasms brought on by fantasizing about Liv were powerful but painful. The loss of her ate away at him, and he had a hunger for her that had never eased. Masturbating over the thought of her was as close as he thought he would ever get to making love to her, and it tore his heart out each time he did it.

He scrubbed at his chest, shoulders, arms and thighs, delaying the moment until he touched the erection that had become almost painful. Sounds from the TV filtered into the room
, and he heard the music signaling the start of the regular evening news bulletin he liked to watch and knew he had to finish up if he wanted to be with Liv on time. Michael grit his teeth and grabbed his dick.

It wasn't too bad while he had his cock pressed up against his abdomen as he washed his balls
, but when he pulled the foreskin on his penis back to clean underneath, his knees buckled. The urge to close his fist around the swollen head of his dick was one he was powerless to resist, and his groans echoed off the tiled walls as his hand moved almost of its own will.

A jumble of images raced through Michael's mind as his cock throbbed and grew in his hand. Liv in that silly outfit. The sight of Liv's pert backside when her tutu rode up as she scrambled on top of the police car. Liv standing half naked in her room with his helmet perched on her pretty head, begging him to fuck her.  That was the image that sent him over the edge.

But when he conjured up the fantasy of how she would look with his cock in her mouth, her gaze locked with his as her lush lips slid up and down his rigid shaft, Michael dropped to his knees. Hot, hard pulses of cum splashed onto the tile, and he turned his face to bite down on the arm still braced against the wall, muffling the savage groans tearing from his throat.

****

Across town less than an hour later, Olivia could be found her sitting on the edge of the bed, her heart pounding so hard she couldn't be sure whether she could hear Michael's footsteps in the hall or not. She'd tried to do as he asked ... she really had ... but without the comforting blanket of drunkenness around her, last night's sexy bravado had fled, taking her confidence with it.

Her first thought when she'd opened her eyes earlier that morning had been about Michael. Her second had been about her friends. Olivia
had dived for her phone to call Stella and find out what had happened. Had Karen and Stella spent the entire night locked up in a police cell?

To her utter relief, a whole page of text messages
had greeted her when she flipped open her smart phone.  They'd both been released without charge after a severe telling off from the sergeant, which had made Karen cry so hard the police taken pity on the pair and driven them home.

Work had been a mess. Her mind had been on Michael. Or rather, on various bits of Michael
... like his lips, his hands, his voice. Those handcuffs. She'd spent most of the day away from her desk, hiding in the loo. But not just hiding. She'd been following his instructions to the letter.  She hadn't allowed herself to come though, and he wouldn't need to take her word for it either. Olivia's clitoris was engorged, hyper-sensitive, and primed to explode if Michael so much as looked at it.

Olivia clutched at the neck of the robe as the door creaked open, and she surged to her feet. Now, with soft lamplight illuminating his face, and her contact lenses in, there was no way to escape his gaze besides closing her eyes. She struggled against the urge to do just that as she trembled under his intense stare.

Besides, if she closed her eyes, then she couldn't enjoy the sight of him filling her doorway, his large, strong frame made even more imposing by the police uniform he'd had the good sense to keep on when he'd finished work earlier. The period decor in her bedroom, with its floral wallpaper and chintzy fabrics adorning most of the soft furnishings, conspired to make his dark bulk seem out of place and almost otherworldly. The helmet cast his brow into shadow, the peaked front helping to intensify the power of his gaze. Warm weather had allowed him to wear a short sleeved shirt, strained to almost breaking point by his biceps. His stab vest curved over his shoulders, adding a bulk to his chest that wasn't needed but made him look totally imposing. His uniform trousers barely contained his powerful thighs, and Olivia wondered if he had to have them specially made with extra width in the leg. They fit too well to be standard issue, that was for damned sure. Michael had always been proud of his strength and size and wasn't shy about showing it off.

“
I'm disappointed, Liv. This is not what we agreed.”

“
I'm sorry.”

Michael shoved his hands through the gaps at the edge of his stab vest, a gesture he no doubt did a hundred times a day.
“I thought you said you could handle this?”

“
I ... I can.”

He shrugged and looked towards the door, as if preparing to leave again.
“As I said, you're a good girl at heart. I should never have asked you to do something you weren't comfortable with.”