And the understanding she needed from him was there, in his eyes, curving his mouth into a faint smile.
He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear in a tender gesture that started her melting inside.
“You can do it,” he said softly. “You can do anything, Tara. You’re strong and smart and sexy. I told you before…the things that are the hardest to do take the most courage. I know you have it in you.”
His tender confidence in her confused her. He was so aggressive, so intimidating with his air of authority and command, and yet she felt protected and safe with him. Safe enough to let go.
Nerves clutched at her stomach again and she swallowed hard.
“I want to give you everything I know you want,” he continued. “All those dark secrets I know you have. Last time you held back, but I saw it—deep inside you, the part of you that wants to be dominated and fucked. You want to submit because you’re strong.”
She drank in his words, wanting to believe them.
“I’m going to challenge you,” he said. Like he hadn’t already? God! “I’m going to make you give more of yourself than you ever have. I’m going to take you places you’ve never been. You know how this goes?”
She lifted her chin and nodded again.
“My way.” He stroked her bare shoulder. “Whatever I tell you to do, you do. No questions. No hesitation.”
A dark thrill shivered over her. But despite the fear still lurking inside her, it felt natural and right to let him lead her that way. She wanted it so much.
“First take off your dress,” he ordered her.
She reached for the hem of the stretchy dress and eased it up her thighs. He stepped back to watch, his eyes hot and hungry. As always with him, she felt sexy and desired, and she wriggled her hips as she tugged the dress up over them, over her breasts and off. She stood before him in white lace panties and bra. Her nipples tingled and tightened and she ran her hands over the top curves of her breasts, down over her stomach.
His eyes darkened.
“Love the white lace,” he said, his voice smoky. “Are your panties wet, Tara?”
“I…I don’t know.” Of course she knew. She’d been aching between her legs since she’d seen Joe and sucked on his cock.
“You’re lying,” he said. “You know you’re wet.”
She bit her lip.
“Lying is a punishable offense,” he continued. “You know that. Don’t you?”
She nodded.
“Come here.” He moved toward the St. Andrews cross, silhouetted black against the shiny blue wall. She followed him, eying the chains gleaming silver and blue in the lights.
Her pussy clenched and she trembled inside. What was he going to do? Joe followed her, helped position her on the cross, facing away from him, legs apart, then fastened her ankles to the cross. Her chest tightened. Then he lifted her arms one by one and fastened them too with cuffs around her wrists attached to the chains.
“Let me see,” he murmured, sliding his hand over her ass, then between her legs, cupping her pussy over the sheer lace. “Oh yeah, you’re wet. Your panties are soaked, Tara.”
She gave a nod.
“Did sucking my cock make you wet?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Does being restrained make you wet?”
She swallowed. “Yes.” She was totally at his mercy—and a rush of dark pleasure rose inside her.
His hands played with her butt, teasing, stroking, making her shiver and shake and ache with need.
“Hmm. Need these panties off.” And with a sharp wrench, he ripped them right off her. Oh. Dear. God. Liquid heat gushed between her legs.
A hand landed on her ass. She jolted.
“Your body is mine to pleasure or punish as I see fit,” he growled. Another heavy caress heated her flesh. Being totally under his control, while terrifying, only escalated the sensation, intensified the pleasure.
“Feel it?” he murmured. “Wait for it.”
He gave her another tap and heat bloomed over her flesh. The next smack was harder—he’d picked up the wooden paddle she’d seen lying beside the cross.
A series of taps had every nerve ending flaring to life, pain coursing through her body as her ass burned up. Everything inside her tightened into a coil of pleasure so intense it almost wasn’t bearable. Thoughts flew out of her head and her body went limp, suspended on the cross. She gave herself over to sensation, soaked up the heat, let the pain become thick, heavy pleasure, absorbed the helplessness and transformed it into strength.
The knowledge that he could do anything to her at that moment, that she was completely vulnerable, was also transforming. Because as she gave herself up to it, she knew with utter certainty that she trusted him. Completely, totally, with utmost faith that he would not hurt her.
She existed in a hazy glow of pleasure and pain, floating. The rhythm of the taps on her buttocks spread into a shimmer of heat, a blur of thoughts.
He stopped. Her body pulsed with heat and energy as she waited, anticipated…
A soft trickle of a touch slid up her spine. It took a few seconds for her to realize he was licking her. His tongue drew wet strokes across each shoulder and his teeth bit the muscle there, so gently, so softly. She twitched hard. He kissed the nape of her neck, tenderly drawing her hair aside. Ripples of exquisite pleasure slid over her.
He kissed his way back down her spine, pressing a lingering kiss right at the base where she was so sensitive. She shivered.
Gentle hands stroked over her, down her back, over her ass, down her thighs. Back up, he dipped between with probing fingers, right where she ached. Her pussy tightened, her clit straining. And when his fingers brushed over her, tremors started deep inside her. Was it okay to come? Is that what he wanted?
“Yes,” he whispered as if reading her mind. “Come, Tara. Let go.”
The humming intensified, everything inside pulling up tight and hard, higher, harder into a sharp point of exquisite ecstasy that shattered into a starburst of colors behind her closed lids. Her body limp, she sank into the restraints.
“You’re mine,” he said from behind her, voice gruff. “Mine to take—to punish, torment, to pleasure.”
“Yes.”
His words whispered over her like a soothing caress, The pleasure he gave tore down her barriers, the ones she’d clung to so fiercely, but his words reassured. She felt safe, felt protected, felt understood. His words stripped away very last remnant of the walls she’d erected and made her his.
“Christ,” he muttered. He stopped and her body throbbed, drifting on a high of submission. “Christ. I…I’ll be back.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
She heard rapid footsteps, then the door closing.
Silence enfolded her. She couldn’t feel her own body anymore, just heat, just shifting, floating warmth. Where had he gone? Why? He’d just left her here, restrained and helpless.
Borne along by sensation, she let go, thoughts drifting through her mind like wisps of smoke. If she trusted him with this—her body, her soul—she had to trust him with everything. He would never do anything to harm the company. She knew it on an instinctive, primal level, that his innate honesty and intelligence, the sense of responsibility and the compassion he’d demonstrated to her over and over, would never be compromised.
He would never try to take it away from her. And she knew too the reason that knowledge made her so sad was because she didn’t want him to leave. She was in love with him, and the fact that this was a short-term stopover for him was like a knife stabbing into her heart, more painful than the slap of the paddle on her ass.
Whatever he told Grandpa about her plan would be honest and would be the best thing for the company. If he didn’t support it, it would be for good reason and she’d have to work harder. If he did support it, it would be justified.