Re/Bound (Doms of the FBI Book 1) (23 page)

“You taste so fucking good. One day I’m going to tie you to my bed and feast on that beautiful pink pussy.” His promise answered her earlier ultimatum. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. He planned to be around at least long enough to make her comfortable with total bondage. “Now put that condom on my cock and climb on, sweetheart. You’re going for a ride.”

She groaned. He knew how much torture it would be for her to ride on top of him and not come. In that position, she orgasmed the easiest and fastest. Second to that, she liked when he fucked her from behind and pulled her hair. Add in a few swats to her ass, and an orgasm was imminent.

She could hold out the longest in the missionary position. She rarely came that way without a lot of foreplay and additional stimulation during the act itself. She hoped to hell the late hour and the physical demands of what they’d done so far had sapped his stamina.

She rolled the condom over his cock and straddled him.

“Lower down slowly.”

He gave her his cock by millimeters. Every time she lifted her hips, he would let her have a little bit more. If she thought this was getting him off, she wouldn’t have minded, but she knew he was playing with her. Sometimes she wished she was the kind of woman who found a spanking to be punishment. Her Dom would have spanked her and fucked her. She would have likely been allowed to come.

Damn him. She slammed down onto his cock and tightened her vaginal muscles. That show of defiance nearly sent her over the edge. She cried out, and he slapped her ass. It took every ounce of her willpower to refrain from coming.

She gazed down at him without bothering to hide her fury from his eyes. He met her challenge with a self-satisfied smirk and intense hunger in his gaze. He wanted her to come, and he wasn’t going to do anything to help keep her orgasm at bay.

The bastard was playing a head game with her. New respect crept into her heart and strengthened her resolve. She would not fail.

“Fuck me.”

Leaning forward, she rested her weight on her hands. She lifted her hips and slammed down. His climax was her goal, so she didn’t do anything fancy like roll or swivel her hips. Those things made it better for her, not him.

He plucked at her nipples and pinched the welts on her back and ass. She knew she had hit a great rhythm when he dug his fingers into her hips and lifted from the bed to meet her thrusts. She ignored the need throbbing between her legs and kept the rhythm he liked best.

Sweat gleamed from his chest and trickled down her back. When his body bowed and his arms encased her in their brand of heavy steel, she knew she’d met his challenge and fulfilled her punishment. He roared and held her tight against his body.

With her ear plastered to his chest, she listened as his heartbeat slowed to normal. His arms relaxed, and she climbed off his softening cock. She took care of the condom and returned to bed with a glass of water.

He eyed her suspiciously when she handed him the water, but he drank it anyway. Instead of handing it back to her, he set it on the nightstand.

“Get your ass back in this bed. I didn’t ask you for aftercare.”

Now she understood the reason for his displeasure. In her quest to please him and alleviate some of the nervous energy bottled up inside her in the form of a dormant orgasm, she had stepped on his toes.

“Sorry, Sir.” She slid into his waiting arms and relaxed into his embrace.

He ran his hands over her body, soothing her and keeping the fact that she needed to come in the front of her mind. After a while, he left the bed only to return a few minutes later and scoop her up in his arms.

She rested her cheek against his shoulder and wished he was the kind of man who fell asleep after sex. She was definitely the kind of woman who fell asleep after a good orgasm. Given the pent-up energy coursing through her body, she might need to run a marathon before she slept.

The hiss of the shower roused her away from her misery. He set her inside the stall and washed her with a soft cloth. He cleaned away her sweat and the tears she hadn’t known were leaking from her eyes, and then he washed the residue of her juices from her pussy.

She debated offering to clean him, but she didn’t want to take the chance he’d want another round. She would incinerate if he touched her again.

By the time he finished pampering her body and putting salve on her welts, exhaustion had caught up with Darcy. She fell asleep in his arms, consciousness fading away before he set her down and eased his arms from under her body.

__________

Malcolm watched Darcy as she lay asleep next to him. Tendrils of her long brown hair, matted in several places, spread over the pillow. He’d pushed her hard last night, and she hadn’t cracked.

He did wonder about what had happened when he whipped her. The subspace had come on strong, claiming her for nearly twenty minutes. He loved holding her while her mind had taken flight, but he wondered at the destination. During that last flick of the whip, he’d clearly heard her shout, “
Scott, no
!”

The exclamation had held more than a little hint of fear. He’d given her the option of delaying the rest of the night. If he’d taken her to a vulnerable place, he didn’t want to do anything she couldn’t handle emotionally. But she had insisted on continuing. Part of him admired her strength, and part of him wanted to show her that she didn’t need to always be so strong for him. He was willing to be strong for her.

She had held on beautifully when she’d endured his merciless teasing. If he’d fucked her again, she would have failed to fulfill the terms of her punishment, and it would have been humiliating. He wasn’t out to humiliate her. The caveman instincts that drove his need to be a Dom did demand her total submission. She hadn’t yet given it, not from the soul.

And he wanted it. He wanted her to give herself to him completely, to trust him with her heart and her life. He recognized that something so precious couldn’t be forced. True submission went hand in hand with falling in love. It came in tiny pieces that went unnoticed until the whole heart was committed and it was too late for anything else.

Malcolm had already given the majority of his heart to this woman who’d managed to land in a whole heap of trouble without knowing it. He greedily guarded the last minuscule crumbs of it because he knew she would trample it in her stampede for the exit the moment she found out his true identity. He wanted her to fall in love with him, but he dreaded it at the same time. Too many issues—Scott, his investigation, her role in Snyder Corp—were unresolved. He couldn’t hit the brakes, and he refused to rush forward.

Light filled the room, and the time on the clock showed a little past eleven. It had been almost three by the time he’d put her to bed. He wondered if eight hours was enough sleep after the physicality of their evening.

She shifted, and the sheet fell down to expose one breast and half of the other. His mouth watered at the sight of those perfect globes and their smooth, rosy tips. Uncertainty fell away, pulled down her body with the sheet. Leaning up on one elbow, he latched his mouth onto her exposed nipple. It pebbled under the delicate worship of his tongue. She made a quiet, whimpering noise, but her eyes didn’t open.

He slid the sheet away from her other breast and paid it the same homage. She tasted warm and sweet. His mouth watered for a taste of her pussy, but he waited on that. Women could be so unpredictable concerning oral sex in the morning. From what he’d seen so far, Darcy was far more pleasant in the morning than he was. He didn’t want to tamper with that.

Curiosity had him lifting the sheet completely away to test whether or not her pussy was wet. He’d cleaned her up before bed, but her passion hadn’t been sated, so it had continued to weep and beg for attention. Once he got to know her better, perhaps when they started living together, he’d put her to bed wet most nights just to have her ready for him in the morning.

He parted her labia to find her cream waiting for him. Reaching across to the nightstand, he reflected that she had been thoughtful in bringing multiple condoms from the drawer. He sheathed his cock and positioned himself between her legs.

Her eyes opened the second his cockhead breached her cunt. He waited ten seconds, giving her the choice to refuse him. Her knees lifted, and she widened her legs to give him better access. He pressed forward, claiming her soft, yielding body with his larger, harder one.

She lifted her hips, meeting his thrusts. A blush spread across her chest, and he knew she wasn’t going to ask to come. This vanilla sex would provide some of the relief he had denied her the night before. Dipping his head, he took a nipple in his mouth and rolled it with his tongue. His thumb and forefinger provided the same stimulation to her other nipple.

Her fingers threaded in his hair. She squeezed handfuls in her fists, arched her back, and shouted her climax.

Darcy’s eyes watered from one of the shortest, most intense morning climaxes she could remember. Normally morning sex meant Scott wanted to get off before he went to work. She often went back to sleep without having climaxed. Sometimes she barely woke up for it. That was part of their D/s arrangement.

She gave him what he needed, and he gave her what she needed. It had worked.

Theo, however, was a different story. He didn’t just take his pleasure and run. He’d given her an orgasm with his slow thrusts, and now his pace increased. He had rammed his cock into her pussy so deep she thought he might become part of her. She couldn’t say the thought wasn’t appealing. Molten heat trod the recent path of her climax.

A second orgasm sent her flying, and Theo’s loud roar announced his climax. He collapsed on her chest, his heart hammering against her sternum and flattened breasts. She wrapped her arms around him and ran her shaking fingers through his hair to help him come down.

He rolled and took her with him, shifting them so that she lay in his arms with her head pillowed on his chest. “Good morning.”

Her hand played up and down his chest, exploring the soft skin and the firm muscles. “Yes, it’s a very good morning.”

“Do you mind telling me what got into you last night?”

She stopped caressing his chest. His hand covered her dormant one, and he squeezed reassuringly. He wasn’t angry. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I mean, did I pass your test?”

“Test?” She hadn’t been testing him. What in the world was he talking about?

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I expect someone of your intelligence and spirit to push me and test my limits. You wanted to see how I would enforce the rules. Perhaps you wanted to know if breaking the rules meant you would forego a reward. It doesn’t. I’ll never promise a reward and then take it away once you’ve earned it.”

She thought back to the way he’d promised to reduce the number of strokes she would receive with the flogger in the hotel room. These things were nice to know. However his real meaning was just beginning to dawn on her. “Theo, I didn’t push your limits to test you. I did it because I thought you wanted me to.”

He started. His whole body moved, and he dropped her hand. Pushing her away, he sat up and twisted to look down at her. “You thought I wanted you to stick your finger up my ass after I specifically told you that was a hard limit?”

Darcy fought the urges to stare at his magnificent body and to scramble for her clothes. The edge of his anger cut sharp and deep. She swallowed. “Well, yes. I didn’t think you had the same definition of hard limit as I did.”

“The definition of hard limit doesn’t change depending on the context. Darcy, a hard limit is a measure set in place for safety and to make sure that what happens in a scene is consensual.” His eyes glittered dark and hard.

Easing from bed, she grabbed one of his shirts from the back of a chair. Like prey trying to escape the notice of a predator, she moved slowly as she slipped her arms into it and held it closed over her chest. “I know what a hard limit is, Theo. But you can’t expect me to treat your hard limits as hard when you treat mine as soft.”

That deflated his sails. He grabbed his shorts and jammed his feet through the holes. “How have I not honored your hard limits?”

Her jaw dropped. “You tie me up every chance you get. Last night you handcuffed me to a St. Andrew’s cross.”

“It was necessary for your safety, and you liked it! For Christ’s sake, I told you what was going to happen ahead of time. Every time I’ve bound you, I’ve told you what was going to happen ahead of time. You could have refused or negotiated something else, but you didn’t.” The redness suffusing his chest and neck had nothing to do with their recent passion.

Darcy wasn’t about to back down from a fight. “I told you from the beginning that bondage was a hard limit, but you treat it like a soft limit and you push it every chance you get. Yes, I have enjoyed it so far, but bondage appeals to you, not to me. No matter what you may tell yourself, that’s all about you getting what you want.”

The ruddy color drained from his skin, and he paused with his pants in hand. “Are you telling me you only put up with it because you think I won’t stick around if you refuse to let me tie you up?”

She sat on the chair, thinking about that one for a minute. Was she afraid? She couldn’t recall thinking or feeling anything along those lines, but what if she subconsciously went along with it so she wouldn’t lose him?