What She's Looking For (26 page)

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Authors: Trent Evans

BOOK: What She's Looking For
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Parker turned away, his fingers
tapping on his desk as he stared at Maria’s picture.

Oh no, please not that.

“Finding a good fixer is like
finding a four leaf clover. And he was really fucking good. Bravest man, I’ve
ever met.”

Her urge to hug him warred with her
visceral need to learn the whole story. She had to know, even though it
obviously hurt. Maybe if she knew, she could figure out what she could do to
help him — even if the only “help” she could offer was letting him beat her
ass.

You’re hopeless, Ashley.

He scrubbed his face with both
hands, then laced his fingers behind his head. “I got him killed. For helping
me, for trying to make his country a better place, he lost his life.” Parker
swiveled in his chair, facing her, and the lost, flat look in his eyes had her
swallowing down a lump in her throat. Parker’s thumb cocked back over his
shoulder. “That woman is Jorge’s wife. The woman had to bury what was left of
his body … because of me.”

“Oh my God Parker, I’m … so sorry.”
That she regretted trying to dig this information out of him was the
understatement of the year. There was so much more here than she’d ever
suspected, and though it made her heart ache for him, it also did something
else. It made her feel protective of him. It was absurd, but she wanted to take
away that hurt she could see in those eyes again, the hurt she’d seen before
but hadn’t really understood. Now, as she knelt on that ottoman, she knew, and
she wanted to cry for him. But crying wasn’t what he needed. He needed to know
he wasn’t alone anymore, that she’d take on this burden with him if he needed
it.

“I shouldn’t have asked you. I see
that now. I’m so sorry.” She lifted her chin, staring into those lost eyes. “Tell
me what I can do. What do you need? Even if it’s just someone to hold. Even if
it means you tell me to go away for awhile, I’d do it, hurt or not. Tell me,
Sir. I’ll do it.”

“Get down on your knees.”

Ashley yanked at her chains. “Okay.
Parker, what—”

“On. Your. Knees.” Parker stood up,
wrapping a hand around one of her chains. “Obey me, that’s what I want now.”

“Yes, Sir.” Her heart pounded  as
she haltingly obeyed him, his grip on her chain more proprietary gesture than
anything intended to help her. Slipping to the floor she looked up at him, her pulse
heavy at her throat.

He watched her for several long
moments, his expression unreadable, those gray eyes boring into her, staking
her in place as surely as any bonds could. His fingers traced the length of her
chains, moving up to her collar, where they stroked along the demarcation line
of her trembling flesh and implacable leather. He put his fingertips to her
lips, and she closed her eyes, pressing soft kisses to them.

“Parker, please … “

He shook his head slowly, a long
finger laid across her lips, then crouched down before her, mere inches away.
His keen gaze took in every constrained curve of her body, his fingers enjoying
the whorl of her umbilicus, his touch making her abdominals tremble.

Ashley sighed, her head falling
back as his hands took the weight of her breasts, simply holding them,
caressing their vulnerable contours in the rough, calloused palms. She tensed,
expecting, hoping, dreading the harsh pain of the squeezing she was sure would
come, that sweet hurt that would have her biting her lip, her nipples hardening
in his palms.

But the pain never came.

“I like this. You’re shaking all
over, girl. Why?”

“I don’t know,” she lied, the air
cool on her now hard clit throbbing its tune between her thighs. The need to do
anything, anything at all, to help him was strong. She had nothing to offer but
the comfort of her body, the sounds of her cries, the please of her
subjugation. She hoped it would be enough, something she could offer to help
dull the blades of the pain she felt rending him even now. That he need to help
him was hopelessly entwined, confused with, her lust was largely immaterial
now. Still, she wondered how she’d become this wanton slut, this creature of
lust. How this evolution had happened — or if this was no evolution at all,
rather a revealing of the true identity of her soul.

And right now, she mostly wondered
what she’d have to do to get him to touch her aching clit.

“Ashley, do you know why you react
this way?”

She stared into his eyes, hoping
she could see where he was going with this. But his eyes were hooded,
unreadable, the cold man who still knew how to keep her out, if he felt like
it.

Someday, she’d figure out that
secret, the way in — and he’d be hers.

He’ll never be yours, idiot. It
doesn’t work that way.

But her heart knew the truth of
things, even if the brain didn’t want to see it. Did she have the courage to
follow the path she knew would lead to him?

Her eyes lowered, and she bowed her
head. “I don’t know why I react this way. I only know how you make me feel.”
She peered up at him through her heavy lashes, her cheeks heating. “I know you
show me what I’m afraid to see. Even though I’m scared … “

“Tell me, girl.” This time the
harsh grip did come, her breasts aching in the clutch of those pitiless hands,
and a surge of moisture let down so strongly from her pussy, she was sure she
was dripping on his carpet. “I want to hear it from your lips.
All
of
it.”

Courage.

“Even though I’m scared, I don’t
want you to go easy on me. I want you—” she swallowed, her heart beating so
hard it felt like a struggling animal in her chest “—to never let me off. I
need that harshness, the consequences.” She sighed, and his grip on her breasts
tightened a notch further. “I want all of you — even the parts you’re afraid to
let me see. Because I think we’re the same — two parts of the same whole.”

“Look at me, Ashley.” His voice was
so quiet, she wasn’t sure he’d actually spoken. Her eyes met his, and he
released her breasts, touching one of her cheeks. “Don’t ask this of me. Not
now.”

She could feel the tears welling,
and she willed them to wait. She was so close. Just outside the gates. “Why?
You want to give what I need. Am I wrong?”

He gazed at her, his eyes searching
hers, the harsh glow of a spotlight on a moonless night. “No,” he finally said.
“I don’t deny it, Ashley. But you don’t know what you’re asking. Who you’re asking
this of.”

“Goddammit Parker! Stop holding
back! You don’t scare me!” She could feel the wetness course down her cheeks,
but it didn’t matter anymore. “Show me all of it. Take me the way you need to.
Use me in the way that feeds you. I want
all
of it. I want you. I need
you. Give me your love, your hate, your fear. Fill me up with it. I don’t care
anymore! Just don’t make me wait any longer — whatever it is!”

All the dreams she’d had, the
fevered fantasies, all the nights she’d laid in bed wondering if she were
simply an aberration, a broken being, irretrievable — forever cursed to search
for that which didn’t exist. But now she thought she’d finally found it.

The missing part of her.

But was this terrible, beautiful
man what she sought? How awful would it be if he were, but couldn’t see it?
Blind to that bright, pure truth?

His smile was bittersweet, his hand
caressing her cheek, the fingertips touching the softness of the lips she
pursed into a kiss. “Sweet girl. My sweet girl” Then he stood, that smile gone,
his jaw clenching, eyes flashing. “Put those tits on the floor. Now.”

She went over so fast her head hit
the carpet, hard, dazing her for a second. Crouching there, she’d never been so
frightened in her life. Not at what he might do to her, but at the chance she
might have pushed him too far. Because it was that flash she’d seen in those
lust-filled eyes, like an apparition just beyond conscious perception, but
something she could still feel.

The real Parker.

And it was at this moment that she
knew only one of two things would happen.

Would he let her see that being —
not the Dom, but the man? Or would he run, closing that door forever, passing
up the one chance either of them might ever have to find that someone who
accepted them for who they
really
were, broken darkness and all?

The hand closed on her hair,
holding her tight. “I need … you. Ashley, I need you. I need you to be able to —
to be able to accept me.”

“Oh God, Parker,” she said, her
lips moving against the carpet. “I do. Please! I do! It’s okay. Show me all of
it. Drown me in it. Just let me in!”

He pulled her up to her knees by
her hair, and dropped to his own in front of her. Then his mouth crashed down
upon hers, his kisses frenzied. He yanked her head back, his breath hot against
the very artery that pumped with her life. “Ashley, how did this happen? How
could it happen? Why?”

“What Parker? Oh God, what?”

“It can’t be.
Can’t!
” His
lips pressed hard kisses to her temple, her forehead. “I’m in love with you,
Ashley.”

She kissed him back, licking,
sucking, biting him, devouring his frantic kisses, taking all of that frenzy
into herself, using it to stoke her own lust higher. There was nothing else
other than this. The world was nothing, her life was nothing. Only this. This
moment in time, with this man.

“I love you, Sir,” she whispered
against his lips, her tears wetting her cheeks and his. “Make me yours,
forever. Please.”

Parker held her head to his chest
whispering into her hair. “You already are, Ashley.”

“Show me.” Ashley pulled her head
back, looking up into his eyes, the lust she saw there firing her own further. “Make
me feel it,
please
.”

His fingers clamped onto her
nipple, the harsh squeeze making her suck in a breath through gritted teeth. “Kneel
up, girl.”

She pushed herself up, watching his
face for guidance, his expression so impassive even a lifted eyebrow might be
all he gave her to tell her what he wanted. It would have to be enough, because
at that moment all she wanted was to please him, to give him pleasure … and
perhaps, to make him forget for even just a moment the pain that even now
consumed him, that pain he’d finally shared with her.

“Higher, girl.” He smacked her
other breast with his palm, her nipple still clamped within his cruel grip. “Back
straight. I want you to display your tits properly.”

He turned her in place, the
effortless power of his arms almost making her moan, positioning her so that
she faced the ottoman. He tugged on her hair. “Shoulders back. When a man tells
you to display those big tits of yours, you need to make sure they’re the first
thing that catches his eye.”

Parker walked around her, and sat
down upon the leather ottoman, facing her, spreading his knees to either side.
He dipped his chin, his gaze hard. “Take out my cock.”

“But, my hands—”

“You’re going to learn how to do a
lot of things with bound hands, so you’d better get used to it.” He jingled one
of her chains. “These are gonna be a regular part of your existence whenever
you’re under my roof. Now, get to it.”

His cock was already huge and hard,
clearly visible through the fabric of his pants, and she leaned forward until
she could just reach his fly, undoing it with trembling fingers. He said
nothing as she worked, his body utterly still, but the tension almost purred
through the lean muscles of his long thighs.

It was difficult, the cuffs
preventing her from being able to reach into his pants, and finally she just
worked them down enough until his cock sprang forth, the clean, enticing male
scent of him filling her nostrils. “Take it in your hand at the base. Firm
grip.”

She chanced a smile up at him, her
blood rushing in her ears. His eyes darted up to hers, then down to his cock
expectantly.

Bound as she was, she savored the
opportunity to touch him, to hold that magnificent cock in her hand, to feel
the thrum of his pulse against her skin. She angled her other wrist down to
hold the weight of his heavy balls, luxuriate in the silky smoothness of his
scrotum. The heat of him in her palm surprised her, and yet she never wanted it
to end. There was something about holding the erect, throbbing penis of the man
you loved, that penis that was so hard, aching for
her
. It both touched
her and filled her with an unexpected feeling of exultant, feminine power.

Not a particularly submissive
thought there is it, slut?

Her mouth was already moistening,
and she leaned forward, her lips opening.

“No.”

“Sir?” Looking up at him, she
watched that stony expression give way to a half smile curving his sensual
lips.

“Do you think you deserve to take
me in your mouth?”

“I — I want to, Sir. God, I want … “
Ashley’s tongue, almost with a mind of its own, extended. Just a touch, a taste
of that delicious male flesh.

A hand clenched in the hair at the
crown of her head, hauling her back so that she looked up at him, her eyes
wide. “I can see we have a lot of work to do here, girl. Do you know what I’m
getting at?”

“No, Sir.” That she’d fucked up,
she knew, but if she’d been able to taste him, it would have been
so
worth it. Though her buttocks were already tingling, knowing they’d likely be
feeling his lash again in the very near future, her overwhelming lust for him
didn’t care. She wanted this man, even if it hurt. Maybe even
because
it
hurt.

His hands grasped the cuffs about
her wrists, undoing them quickly. “You’ll need these free.”

“What do you … ?”

“I want your tits this time.”

“What?”

She had no idea what he had in
mind, but she tensed with both the fear and anticipation she’d come to relish
when alone with him. The fact that he was so unpredictable held its own,
twisted appeal.

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