Beyond Addiction Page 4

  Taking a pull on the cold longneck beer bottle, he let the chilled liquid slide down his throat. It didn’t do much to cool his overheated body, a situation that had nothing to do with the warm night air and everything to do with the woman who’d left an hour ago. Her light scent lingered in his bedroom and clung to the items he’d stored back in the drawer. The covers still bore the imprint of her figure, including slight hollows where her breasts had pushed against the material. He’d held the scarf to his nostrils for a long moment, inhaling her fragrance.

  Jesus, Jamieson, get a grip.

  In the fifteen years he’d been a practicing Dom, he couldn’t remember a woman ever affecting him this much or this quickly. For damn sure she was a true submissive, and had been for a very long time. When she was recommended to him for the promotions gig, he was told she’d only been back in business for little more than a year, was out of circulation for almost two years before that. Something had gone very wrong in her personal life. He’d bet the ranch that her sabbatical from work was a result. Tonight hadn’t been the right occasion to push. Next time he’d coax a little of it out of her.

  There’d definitely be a next time. Oh, yeah. He’d made that perfectly plain, setting the day and time. And she hadn’t objected. A heavy sense of responsibility settled over him. If some asshole Dom had damaged her, he needed to be very careful reintroducing her back into the life. Thinking about it, he was surprised she did so well tonight, accepting the punishment and the butt plug.

  He wondered if she felt the same raw, emotional pull he did. She must have, at least partially, in order to have gone along with everything, to automatically slide into D/s play. He could just see her here on the ranch, riding out to the creek with him, running the little handheld computer for him at branding time, watching the birth of a new foal or calf. Making sure the tourist part of the ranch worked smoothly. People were her business and she was very good at it. She just might be the key to real success.

  He imagined Fallon sitting out here on the porch in the moonlight. Maybe naked except for nipple clamps. He’d make her sit in the wooden chair with her legs draped over the arms while he played with her clit or maybe used a vibrator on her.

  Whoa, boy. Let’s put things in perspective here. You’ve had one night of playtime, not enough to be thinking anything long range.

  Still, he had a sense that in Fallon Crowe, he might have found everything he wanted in a woman—the perfect sub and partner.

  Cord’s introduction to the lifestyle had come during his first year on the job, when a friend asked him if he was interested in coming along to a club one night. It wasn’t long before he became as addicted to BDSM as people were to cigarettes and alcohol. Just as he was in business, working longer and harder to always get more. Always more. Locking away real feelings and seeing them as a sign of weakness.

  Until he met Fallon Crowe.

  In all these years, no sub had ever reached the core of him the way she did. Even more surprising—he wasn’t running away from it.

  He had big plans for Saturday night. Dinner. Wine. But still casual enough to put her at ease. Then he’d walk her out to the barn and…

  Swallowing the rest of the beer, he rose and headed inside, his thoughts making his cock painfully hard. He might have to keep company with his right hand tonight—if a cold shower didn’t work.

  Fallon stood naked in her bedroom, holding a hand mirror and using it to see her reflection in the full-length mirror behind her. Red stripes still crisscrossed her ass and thighs, although with the comforting cream Cord had applied, most of the sting was gone. She knew she’d have the slightest twinge of soreness whenever she sat this week. As she admired the markings, she remembered the distinct pain… and the rush of pleasure it brought.

  So much time had passed since she’d enjoyed this. Too much. After Brian, she’d been afraid to trust herself with anyone. Afraid her safeword would be ignored. Afraid every part of her life would be taken over, robbing her of any choice at all.

  Cord seemed so different. Comfortable enough in his own skin that he could be as mindful of her pleasure as he was his own.

  The orgasm tonight had been so explosive, it still vibrated though her body. Of course, the butt plug was a constant reminder, a fact that brought a smile to her lips. Although she still harbored some misgivings, she had to admit how much she was looking forward to Saturday night.

  She just hoped she wasn’t making another huge mistake.

  Chapter 4

  Cord was waiting for her on the porch when Fallon pulled into the parking area Saturday night. The heat of the day was waning although the air was still warm, fragrant with the scents of horseflesh and cattle and new-mown hay. Her eyes drank in the man who walked over to her SUV. He wasn’t wearing his trademark Stetson tonight, and the soft breeze ruffled the strands of his inky black hair. The plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up emphasized his broad shoulders and revealed tanned, muscular arms. His jeans clung to narrow hips and long legs. The boots he wore were definitely meant for work rather than style.

  It wasn’t difficult to imagine him riding fence lines or herding cattle, or just racing his horse across the land flat out, the wind in his face. The image made her breasts tingle and her panties dampen.

  She climbed out of her car, very aware of the plug in her ass—as she had been for the past three days. Every time she sat with a client or attended a meeting, it was a toss-up which distracted her more: the plug or the faint stinging feeling that still heated her buttocks. And of course, she knew that was exactly what he’d intended.

  Well, he’d gotten his wish. By the time she’d left her house tonight she was so aroused, she had to practice her yoga breathing to control herself. She hoped he wasn’t planning a long dinner first because she was so ready for him. Right now. Finally ready to believe that he could help banish Brian from her system once and for all.

  Cord stopped in front of her, put his hands on her shoulders and leaned down to take her mouth. The kiss was hot and hungry, his tongue sweeping inside, touching every surface. His hands kneaded her shoulders before sliding down to cup her ass through her jeans. Her head swam and shudders raced through her from head to toe. She had to squeeze her thighs together to still the throbbing deep in her cunt.

  “I can smell how ready you are, darlin’.” He lifted his head and his eyes were like flaming onyx, desire burning deep within. “I thought we’d have dinner first, maybe a little wine, but I think we might want to get right down to business.”

  “Oh yes,” she whispered, unashamed of her need.

  He took her hand and led her around the house, past the corral into the barn.

  Fallon stopped, looking up at him. “The barn?”

  His smile was predatory. “Yes, darlin’. The best place on a ranch. I’ve set things up just right for you. For us.” He stared down at her as she hesitated. “Do you trust me, Fallon? No bullshit, okay?”

  Did she? Yes, even though there was no real rhyme or reason for her to do so. Just her instincts, which she hoped were on target after all this time. She wet her lips then nodded.

  “Then come along. I will not push you beyond where you want to go. If you use your safeword, I’ll stop immediately. Does that work for you?”

  She nodded again. “Yes. All right.”

  She let him lead her into the cool interior of the building. Horses leaned their heads over their stall doors, nickering softly at them, stamping their feet as if asking, what are you doing in my place?

  Fallon wondered that herself.

  Cord walked her to the far end of the long barn and opened the door to a large, empty stall. A sawhorse stood in the middle of a floor covered with sweet-smelling hay. Against one wall, loops of rope dangled from heavy brass hooks. A small wooden table held a tiny white box, a tube of gel, two riding crops with leather tails, and a vibrator.

  Fallon’s knees went weak.

  Cord’s palm cupped her chin, tilting her face to his. “All is good
, darlin’. I promise.” His gaze bored into hers like a laser. “Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll know you’re lying.”

  She stared up at him, pulse pounding. “I want this.”

  “Then that’s what you’ll get,” he murmured. “Now. Put your purse down and take off your shoes. Then come stand over here.”

  When she was in front of him, hands clasped, head bowed, he skimmed his hands lightly over her breasts.

  Then he very methodically began to unbutton her blouse.

  “So tell me, girl, what happened to make you so skittish?”

  She swallowed hard. How could she explain without making herself sound like an idiot?

  “No secrets between us,” he prompted. “That’s rule number one.” He popped a button through the hole.

  “I… had a very bad experience.”

  Another button. “I gathered as much. What happened?”

  “I’ve been in the lifestyle for almost fifteen years,” she began. “I took to it immediately. I had a wonderful Dom who trained me. Others taught me even more. I craved it like candy.”

  “Something went wrong,” he guessed.

  “Doesn’t it always when you want something that brings you to the edge of danger?” Fallon closed her eyes. “I… was in a committed relationship with a Dom. I thought he could give me what I wanted, what I needed. Take me higher than I’d ever been before. I even thought I might be in love with him.”

  The next button popped free. “Were you?”

  She swallowed again, clenching her hands into fists. “No. But I didn’t realize it until it was almost too late.”

  “He was abusive?” The shirt was open now, and he slid it gently from her body.

  She nodded. “Not… not at first. Then, in a lot of different ways.”

  Cord bent his head and sucked each nipple in turn, pulling the thin fabric of her bra into his mouth so it became wet and clung to her aching, stiff peaks. “Don’t stop,” he murmured against her skin.

  She kept her eyes closed, as though by not seeing him, it wouldn’t be so hard to continue. Her body was screaming to be punished, to be pleasured, even as her mind was awash in humiliation. “I enjoyed the pain, to a certain extent. I always have. But Brian…” Her voice trailed off.

  “He took it beyond the point of pleasure.” Cord’s voice was flat. His fingers unfastened her jeans. He pushed them slowly down her legs, lifting her feet one at a time until he could toss the fabric on top of her blouse. “You wanted him to dial it back but he wouldn’t.”

  “Yes.” The admission hurt as much as the constant punishments Brian had administered, for anything and everything. “He took over my life. Controlled everything.”

  “Cut you off from your friends? Your clients?”

  “He didn’t want me to have any life that wasn’t controlled by him.” Her breath hitched as painful memories came back. “If I objected or tried to disobey, he…”

  The bra was the next to go, his palms holding the weight of her naked breasts, his thumbs rasping the taut buds. “He what, girl? What did he do?”

  “He made me sleep on the floor, naked. Or kneel, sometimes for hours, hands behind my back.”

  “Jesus.” Cord blew out a breath. “You know that’s a slave situation, not a submissive, right?”

  “Yes, I know. But—”

  “But by that time, he’d robbed you of any will to rebel. To object or walk away.”

  She just nodded, unable to speak.

  Cord hooked his thumbs in the elastic of her panties and rolled them down her legs. When she stepped out of them, he nudged her feet apart and probed her slit with his fingers.

  “Wet.” There was satisfaction in his tone. “Just like the other night. Good.” He rubbed her clit with light, gentle strokes. “How did you get away?”

  “My friend Claire came to the house one day. I hadn’t seen her in weeks so she was worried about me. Brian had gone to work, insisting I spend the day naked, kneeling on the floor in the family room. When I didn’t answer the doorbell, Claire walked around the house. When she saw me through the sliding-glass door, she smashed the glass with a rock so she could get me out of there. I was so traumatized I actually fought her, afraid of what Brian would do when he came home.”

  “You did leave, Fallon.” Two fingers slid inside her. She rocked slowly back and forth on them. “Remember that.”

  “She wouldn’t let me argue. Just got me into some clothes somehow then took me to her house. She hired an attorney. Called Brian. Told him if he ever came within a mile of me again, she’d have his ass thrown in jail.” Her breathing was erratic. “It took me a long time to get over it. I… haven’t been with anyone in more than a year.”

  His mouth wasn’t even an inch from hers, his breath dusting across her skin. “You will never have to worry about that with me, Fallon. Can you believe that? I will always respect your boundaries as a submissive, and care for you. Nod if you accept that.”

  She nodded, glad he didn’t ask her to say anything. Deep inside her damaged psyche, she’d instinctively known this man was completely different from Brian. That degrading a sub wasn’t part of what he enjoyed. That she could give herself to him without fear. It was in his touch, his voice, his attitude.

  “Because I learned the other night that pain—properly administered—brings you pleasure, we’ll start with that tonight.”

  Oh, thank you.

  “Stand still,” he ordered, reaching for the white box on the table. Opening it, he removed two tiny gold nipple clamps. He sucked her tips until they were hard and pebbled then carefully clamped each in turn. “Beautiful,” he breathed.

  The sharp stab of pain was a welcome feeling, ramping up her arousal.

  Please, Sir, don’t make me wait too long.

  Cord led her to the side of the stall, arranged her to face the wall where the ropes were looped. Carefully he lifted each wrist, tying the ropes around them so her arms were outstretched and firmly anchored. Lengths of cord hung down that he used to bind her ankles, guaranteeing she wouldn’t be able to move at all. One hand smoothed over her ass, touching the butt plug.

  “You wore this the last few days, girl?”

  “I did.”

  “Excellent. You will be well rewarded.”

  Fallon turned her head, saw him lift one of the crops, and sucked in a breath.

  “Remember. You only need to use your safeword at any time and I’ll stop.”

  The first blow was a slash of pain against her still-sensitive skin, but it also made her pussy flood with cream. She couldn’t give herself relief by pressing her thighs together because her legs were spread wide apart. When the second blow fell, she jerked, then endorphins flooded her system. She found herself falling, falling, falling into subspace.

  “Twenty strokes, just like the other night,” he told her.

  With each stroke of the crop, each slash of pain, her body became more aroused until she was sure she’d have a climax without Cord even touching her. When she was panting with need, enveloped in an erotic fog of pain, her body one giant throb of desire, the strokes ended and she heard the clatter of the crop as it landed on the table. She was a blanket of fire from her hips to her knees, her cunt singed by it, and she wanted his cock in her more than anything. He was so good at administering the pain, just the right amount, enough to take her so high she was ready to scream for release.

  The next thing she felt was the vibrator probing at the lips of her cunt.

  No! I’ll come and I don’t want to. Not without you!

  She tried to wriggle away from the toy but that only earned her a soft chuckle from Cord.

  “Let’s see what a good little sub you are. Do not come until I tell you to.” He bit gently on her neck. “Until I’m inside you. Until my cock is inside your cunt and I tell you it’s time.”

  “Yes Sir.” She could hardly get the words out.

  After tormenting her with the vibrator for a few more moments, he untied the ropes
, massaging her shoulders and hips before leading her over to the sawhorse. He bent her over it, once more fastening manacles to her ankles and wrists. The rustle of fabric let her know he was undressing. She almost breathed a sigh of relief when she felt his bare thighs against hers, his cock against her ass.

  “We’ll leave the plug in until after I’ve fucked you, girl. Then we’ll take it out. I want you to wear it every day this week. I want you prepared for the next time.”

  Next time? He wanted more? Could she even be thinking of something like a relationship with him when she still bore the scars of the last one?

  He’s different. You keep saying that and you know it. That’s why you want him so badly.

  His hands stroked over her, soothing the burning flesh. Then she heard the crinkle of foil, the snap of latex. This time there was no hesitation on his part. One push of his hips and he was inside her all the way. She nearly cried with relief at the feel of him.

  “I’ve been waiting for this all week, girl. It won’t be slow or easy.”

  He was right. It wasn’t. He rode her like one of his stallions riding a mare. Hard. Pounding her as if their very lives depended on it. Again, again, again.

  “Now, girl,” he ordered. “Come now.”

  Then she was flying, cartwheeling in space as her body spasmed and his cock pulsed inside the thin reservoir. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything except grip his thick cock with her inner muscles and convulse around him.

  She was so spent when they finished that she simply lay like a wet towel across the padded horse, waiting while he slid from her body, disposed of the condom and removed the butt plug. When he released her ankles and wrists, he rubbed them gently then eased off the nipple clamps. When blood flowed into the tips again, he soothed the stabbing pain with his mouth.