Rogue (9 page)

His hot breath tickled across my neck.  “I’m going to touch you now, Sharon.  I’m
going to restrain you.  I’m not going to harm you, and I won’t violate your trust. 
Tell me you understand that.”

Calm washed over me, and the lingering tension in my muscles eased.  I had my safe
words.  Derek would honor them.  I could trust him.

“I understand.”  My voice was low and breathy.  I barely recognized it as my own.

“You will address me as ‘Sir’ when we’re together like this.”  His deeply-spoken words
held their own husky edge.  This was what he craved: control.  It was an essential
part of him.  He needed my submission.  The knowledge awoke an answering desire in
me to give him what he needed.

“I understand, Sir,” I corrected.  My ingrained deference to authority figures allowed
the title to roll easily off my tongue.  I was subordinate to Derek in this, so it
was only natural to address him with proper respect.

“Good girl.”  His finger traced a firm line down my spine, from the base of my skull
to the upper edge of my bra.  “You’re so beautiful, Sharon.  Especially when you’re
like this; relaxed, content, giving.  Trusting.  You don’t have to fight this part
of yourself.”

I shuddered under his touch and his praise.  My mind chose to skim over the implications
of his last remark, focusing instead on the pleasure elicited by his warm approval.

His hands curled under my upper arms, moving slowly upward to lift them.  I compliantly
allowed him to progress toward my own hands.  When he reached my wrists, my arms were
stretched above me, mirroring the V of the cross.  Derek laced his fingers through
mine and pressed my palms against the cool black metal.

“Stay.”  The single word traced around the shell of my ear before sinking into me.

I obeyed, maintaining the position he had placed me in while his hands moved to my
right wrist.  Supple leather encircled it, and the silvery buckle clinked softly as
he secured me with the cuff.

The sensation of having my arms tied down, of being made vulnerable, made the fighter
within me spark back to life.  I stiffened, but Derek anticipated my reaction.  His
hand closed firmly around my free wrist, holding it in place against the cross.  I
tugged against him and the cuff as panic began to tease at the edges of my mind.

Derek nipped at my earlobe, and the small shot of pain called me back from my fear.

“No,” he commanded.  “Stay here with me.  Don’t fight me.  I won’t hurt you.  You
have your safe words.  Tell me you will use them if you need to.”

I took a deep breath, centering myself.  Derek wouldn’t hurt me.

“I will,” I promised softly.

His teeth closed around my lobe more sharply this time, a clear reprimand.  “Address
me properly.”

“I will, Sir,” I gasped as the little ping of pain mingled with an answering flash
of pleasure.

In reward, his tongue traced the edge of my ear, easing the little burn left by his
teeth.  My head dropped back on his shoulder in response, welcoming more.

His amused chuckle rumbled over my skin.  “So beautiful,” he repeated.

Something that sounded strangely like a whimper rolled up my throat.  Men had spoken
those words to me before, but they had never had such a visceral effect.  On the lips
of other men, they were a superficial observation.  Derek wasn’t just talking about
my face or my body.  He was looking at the core of me, at my true self, and he was
pleased by what he saw.

I didn’t fight when he secured my left wrist.

I was acutely aware of the cool air that closed behind me when he moved away.  Unease
stirred back to life when I heard the drawer opening.  I tried to crane my head back
to see what he was doing, but my mass of dark curls blocked my vision.  With my hands
bound, I had no means of brushing it back from my face.

“Eyes forward.”  His order cracked though the room, and my head snapped back so that
I was staring at the dark red wall once again.

Suddenly, something soft brushed across my upper back.  I jolted at the sudden contact,
but a moment later, I eased into the pleasurable sensation.

“Good girl.  Relax.  Trust me.”

Calloused fingers trailed across my nape as he swept my hair over my shoulders, and
I shivered.  Somehow, I had fallen into him.  My awareness of his nearness, of his
desires, of his pleasure, had become my whole world.  I did trust him.  And that didn’t
scare me the way it should.

The soft, foreign object followed the path of his touch.

“This is a deerskin flogger,” he explained softly.  “We’ll start slow and work our
way up.  I’m interested to see how much pain you can take.  There will be pain, but
there won’t be harm.  I’m going to push you.  And you’ll accept what I give you, because
you trust me.  You trust me, don’t you, Sharon?”

“I trust you, Sir.”  It was barely more than a whisper, but the hoarseness of my voice
wasn’t a result of fear.  I craved to give him what he wanted, what he so obviously
needed.  And I craved his trust as well.  I would earn it by giving him this.

I barely had time to register the heavy
whoosh
of the flogger cutting through the air before the falls hit my shoulders with a dull
thud.  I blew out a hard breath at the impact, but it didn’t hurt.  Not really.  Another
hit came before I could analyze the sensation, and warmth bloomed on my back.  It
wasn’t at all unpleasant.

More blows came in rapid succession, falling across each of my shoulders in turn to
form an X pattern across my upper back.  My skin glowed with heat, and each hit seemed
to thrum through my entire body.  The vibration found its way from my back to my nipples,
making them peak to hard buds, before travelling lower to make my clit pulse.

The flogger stung across my back, the hit falling differently somehow.  I gasped and
arched forward, my body moving away from the pain.

“Stay still.”

Before the order even left his lips, I shifted back into position, offering my enflamed
flesh to him.  The bite of burning pain had flared in my sex as well as across my
skin, and I craved more.  My head bowed, my body going deliciously light and relaxed.

“That’s perfect, Sharon.  You’re perfect.”

Another stinging blow raked across my tender skin as the sweet words washed over me,
and I moaned my pleasure.  The hit of pain and his approval sent hot sparks dancing
through me.  They worked their way into my mind, multiplying with each fall of the
flogger.

Soon, my body sagged against the cross.  The way the restraints bit into my wrists
only heightened my state of bliss.  I found perfect release under Derek’s unique brand
of pain, and I felt lighter than ever.  A sense of weightlessness filled me like soft
illumination that started in my chest before slowly bleeding outward to shine out
of every inch of my glowing skin.

I didn’t even notice when the hits stopped and my wrists were freed from the cuffs. 
I floated, enfolded in warmth.  My cheek pressed against something hard, and an intoxicating
scent enveloped me.  I snuggled closer, drawing in the smell of pine and soap and
musk.

“You did so well.”  His dark honey voice dripped across my skin, and my eyes opened
to find him smiling down at me.  There was no arrogance or teasing in the tilt of
his lips, only pure, masculine satisfaction.  His eyes were hooded with his own sense
of blissed-out languor.

Something hard pressed insistently against my ass.

His cock.

For an instant, my own pleasure spiked at the knowledge of his arousal, but seconds
later it was chased away by budding panic.

I was cradled in Derek’s arms, positioned across his lap where he lay on the bed,
his back propped up against the pillows.  My torso rested against his chest, and my
fingers were splayed across his stomach.  His defined abs rippled beneath his thin
black t-shirt with every heavy breath he took.

I was cuddled in the arms of my mark.  I had made myself completely vulnerable to
him, despite all my determination to hold my own in his presence.  And the insistent
throbbing between my legs told me I liked being vulnerable to him.

It took effort to press my hands against his hard chest in a vain effort to distance
myself from him.  His arms tightened around me, and he shot me a reproving look. 
The displeasure in his eyes almost made me crumble.

God, where was my head?  His delicious heat seemed to have melted my brain as well
as my insides.

“Let me go,” I demanded shakily.

“No,” he calmly refused.  “You hit subspace, and I’m not going to let you drop.  This
is aftercare.  You will accept it.”

Subspace?  Aftercare?

Derek sighed, recognizing my confusion.  “Subspace is a place submissives reach when
they completely let go.  It’s the ultimate high for a sub.”  He gave me a little squeeze,
obviously unwilling to put a millimeter of space between us.  “Doms can get a high
as well.  I found my own Topspace.”  His fingers brushed across my cheekbone.  “You’re
a beautiful submissive, Sharon.”

My pleasure at his approval was quickly doused by fear.

Natural submissive.  No no no!

Everything was going to shit.  I didn’t want this.  I didn’t want to lose myself around
my mark.  I was strong, independent.  I didn’t want to be a submissive.

My sudden hatred for the blissful high I had just enjoyed made tears burn at the corners
of my eyes.  Derek frowned and tapped the center of my forehead.

“Stop it.  Stop thinking.  You’re going to drop.  I won’t allow that.”  His hand rubbed
my back in a soothing motion, and the slight pain it elicited from my abused flesh
nearly made my high return.

“No!”  My protest was panicked.  I might have been ashamed of my evident weakness,
but all I could focus on was my fear of losing myself again.  “I don’t want this.” 
I remembered my safe word.  “Red.  Red.”

Derek released me instantly, and I scrambled away from him.  I turned my back on him,
frantically searching for my shirt.  My hands shook so violently that I could barely
button it.  Only when my body was covered did I turn back to Derek.  He was on his
feet, and his entire body was taut with his disapproval, but he kept several feet
of space between us.

“This is a mistake, Sharon.  Let me help you.  Let me hold you.”  His tone was almost
beseeching.

“I told you I don’t want you to touch me,” I said through gritted teeth.

Derek scowled.  “You did,” he allowed.  “But it’s a Dom’s responsibility to care for
his sub after an intense scene.  If you want to learn to be a Domme, you have to respect
that.  You can’t just leave a vulnerable sub cold.  She’ll drop.  That’s what you’re
doing right now.”

His fingers curled at his sides as he restrained himself from reaching for me.  He
was torn between his promise to respect my wishes and his desire to care for me.

No.  It wasn’t just desire.  It was need.  The turmoil in his eyes let me know that
he needed to hold me just as badly as I needed to be held.

I took another step back from him before my body could betray me.  I took a deep breath.

“It’s okay.  I’m okay.  I understand what you’re saying.  I understand the need for
aftercare.”

“Then why won’t you let me give it to you?”  He growled out in his frustration.

“I…  I just can’t,” I told him, my voice wavering.  “I’ll be all right.  Reed’s here
with me tonight.  He’ll make sure I’m okay before he drops me off at my apartment.” 
I was babbling, saying anything that would get me safely away from him.

I had said the wrong thing.  Derek’s face darkened to a thunderhead.

“Reed didn’t scene with you.”  He spat out my partner’s name like a curse.  “This
is my responsibility.”

I heard the words he didn’t say:
This is my right.

Derek didn’t like the idea of anyone else comforting me, of anyone else holding me.

“It won’t be like that,” I said quickly.  “I’ll just talk to him.  I promise.”

I inwardly cursed myself for sounding so defensive.  If I wanted to get away from
him and talk to my friend, that was none of Derek’s damn business.  He didn’t have
any claim over me.

That knowledge didn’t stop me from feeling like shit at his disapproving scowl.

“Fine,” he bit out.  He jerked his chin toward the door.  “Go to him.”

I couldn’t leave it like this.  He wouldn’t speak to me again, much less train with
me.

I reached for him, my fingers trembling.  My hand tentatively closed around his. 
I didn’t breathe until his fist eased beneath my touch, his palm turning to press
against mine.

“I’m okay.  Really,” I assured him.  “Can I see you again tomorrow?”

His expression hardened at my request.  My eyes instantly dropped in the wake of his
glare.

He blew out a long sigh, and his fingers curled beneath my chin, lifting my eyes up
to his.  The lines of his face were resigned.  “Of course you can, Sharon.  I’m not
going to kick you out of my club just because you used a safe word.”