Living in Sin (Living In…) (13 page)

She turned her head, her throat moving again. Goose bumps had started to come up all over her body, her nipples hard little berries. He shifted, trailing the leather farther down her stomach, over her thighs, between her legs. And she moved restlessly, the handcuffs rattling the rail as she did so.

“N-no, it wasn’t,” she admitted. She wasn’t looking at him now, her attention on the flogger as he brought it back up her body, shivering again as the ends brushed over her pussy. Good, she was sensitive.

Kahu shifted again, pushing her knees apart before kneeling between her spread thighs. She took a ragged-sounding breath, the hands above her head curled into fists. Her eyes were dark and there was fear in them, but there was desire there too, battling it out with the fear.

“You’re a fighter,” he said softly, moving the flogger again, teasing her with it. “I can see you fighting with all your strength. Why, ballerina? What are you fighting so hard for?”

Her head turned, her hair falling over her face. “I don’t want you to see me differently,” she said thickly. “And if I tell you, you will.”

He paused trailing the flogger. “What do you mean I’ll see you differently?”

“If you know what that scar is. I’ll change. I won’t be…who you see now. I’ll become someone different.”

What the hell was she talking about? He leaned forward, pushed the hair away from her face and took her chin in his hand, turning her head so he could see into her eyes.

Yes, definitely fear. He didn’t bother with the niceties. “Tell me, Lily.”

Her lashes fell. “Okay. But don’t…don’t stop what you’re doing. Please. I…like it.”

He wasn’t here for her. He was supposed to be here for himself. But that look in her eyes…that fear. He knew fear. Those first few months out on the streets of South Auckland, picking up clients, letting him do what they wanted to him in return for the money he took back to his family at night, he’d been terrified. He’d never gotten over that fear, but he’d learned to deal with it. Paper over the cracks of it so that no one knew.

He didn’t expect her to feel it too, especially not here.

So he sat back, began to move the flogger over her body again, easing the leather over her nipples, circling them.

Lily’s eyes fell shut. “It’s a…biopsy scar.” Her voice was ragged, thin. “From my lymph nodes.”

A heavy stone settled on his chest. This wasn’t going to be good, was it?

“When I was sixteen, I was diagnosed with acute, myeloid leukemia,” she went on, the words sounding as if she was forcing them out. “I was in the hospital on and off for three years with chemo and a bone marrow transplant from which I had complications.”

Leukemia. Fuck.
Fuck.

The stone became a glacier, heavy as eons and twice as cold.

“I’m in remission now. But the treatment was hard and if you want to know why I fight that’s why. Fighting is all I know how to do. Because if I didn’t… If I stopped…” Her voice became shaky. “I was afraid I’d die.”

He couldn’t stop looking at her pale, finely carved face, the glacier moving slowly, crushing everything. He couldn’t work out why he felt so intensely about this because after all, he hadn’t known her long and it wasn’t as if she was a lifelong friend or anything.

Maybe it was because of Anita, because he’d lost her too.

Lily was looking at him now and he could see the distress in her eyes. “See? I knew it, I knew you wouldn’t look at me the same way. I’m a ghost to you too, aren’t I?”

He couldn’t deal with the enormity of the illness, of what she’d been through, so he focused on something else instead. Tossing aside the flogger, he leaned forward over her again, his hands beside her head. “What do you mean, ‘a ghost to you too’?”

Her eyes were dark, the green vanished like leaves under ash. “It’s stupid.”

“Tell me, ballerina. I won’t ask again.”

She turned her head, red-gold lashes sitting still on her cheekbones. “Dad and I used to be closer. But when I got sick, it was like…I don’t know, like he’d let me go already or something. He didn’t visit me in the hospital, he didn’t sit with me. He didn’t talk to me.” Her voice became thicker, rougher. “I was so afraid and he wasn’t there. No one was there.” Something seeped from underneath her lashes, glistening on her cheeks. Tears. “There was no one to give me a h-hug when I needed it. No one to hold my hand. No one to kiss me and tell me it was going to be all right.”

It felt like she’d reached inside his chest, taken his heart in her hands and twisted hard. Rob, that fucker, had left her alone? While she was sick? Who the hell did that to their own daughter?

“And when I got better, when I moved home, he treated me like I was already gone. Like I’d died and come back as a stranger.” Her chest heaved as she sucked in a breath. “All I want is for someone to hold me and tell me it’ll be okay. Is that too much to ask? I’m so sick of fighting. I’m so sick of being afraid.” The tears ran down her face. “And I miss my mother. I miss her kisses and her hugs. All I’ve had for years are needles and doctor’s hands all over me, and I just want someone to touch me like there’s nothing wrong with me. Like the leukemia never happened.” She turned her head away from him again, rubbing her cheek against the pillow, her voice choking. “I’m so fucking lonely and it hurts, Kahu. It hurts so much.”

He couldn’t speak. He knew that pain, knew it well. Because he felt it too. No one had touched him like that either. No one had held him or told him it would be okay. Not even his own mother. And that hadn’t changed even when Anita had come. She’d touched him but it had only ever been about sex. There hadn’t been anything emotional in her touches, nothing of comfort.

Sometimes being in bed with her had been the loneliest feeling on earth.

Kahu touched Lily’s cheek, gently wiping away the tears, the wrenching pain in his chest twisting tighter. Nothing he could say was going to make this any better and he only knew of one way to ease the loneliness. It wasn’t much. But it was all he had to offer her.

He bent, brushed his mouth over her salty skin, kissing away the tears. Then he kissed her lips, gently at first, tracing the soft curve of her bottom lip, nipping at her gently. She gave a groan, opening her mouth to him, lifting her head, and he could taste the hunger in her. Like his own. A hunger for a connection that went deeper than bodies meeting, deeper than the brief ecstasy of orgasm.

Her soul needed more than that and so did his.

So he opened his mouth to her, letting her explore him, her tongue at first tentative then becoming more confident, bolder. She tasted sweet, hot, so good.

He put his hand over her throat, stroking the graceful arch of it before sliding down to cup her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple. She moaned, arching up into his palm, the handcuffs rattling as she pulled against it.

After a moment though, he pulled away and sat up.

“No…” Her protest was desperate.

“Be still,” he ordered, an idea taking shape in his head. “It’s true, I do look at you differently. But not in the way you think. I don’t see a ghost. I see the opposite. I see purpose and determination. I see pride. I see strength. I see a warrior, Lily. And I know you’re tired, I know you want to rest. So lie back, ballerina. I’m going to show you how strong you can be when you surrender.”

Chapter Eleven

She didn’t understand him. How could there be strength in surrender? Especially now, naked and handcuffed to his bed. She felt like she’d had her soul removed from her chest and laid out for inspection. To be picked up and examined like all those doctors. Treating her like a disease not a person, deepening the isolation and loneliness that lurked in her heart like a canker, eating away at her.

Fuck, why had she said that? She hadn’t expected it to all come rushing out. But there had been something about the feeling of leather on her skin, sensitizing her. About the heat of his body between her thighs. About the look in his dark eyes, like he was going to get this out of her one way or another.

And she’d known that he would. That she would end up telling him everything.

She didn’t want to reveal it all. Didn’t want to see the desire fade from his eyes because it wasn’t like cancer was sexy. Didn’t want him to know how lonely she was, how desperate for any kind of touch, any kind of connection. She hadn’t known herself until it had all come tumbling out.

What a desperate, sad little person she was, and who wanted that? Certainly her father didn’t.

Kahu had turned away, reaching for something on the bed behind him.

Her heart felt raw and painful, like it had been dragged on the ground behind a car. Her eyes were scratchy. All she wanted was to curl up in a ball, pull the covers up over her head and weep.

And then he turned back and she understood he wasn’t going to let her. That far from fading, the desire that burned in his eyes now seemed to have a fierce purpose behind it.

He held the vibrator in his hand and the weird chain thing that had two little clamps on each end. Putting the chain down, he leaned over her, and her breath caught like it did every time he got close.

He was so hot in both senses of the word. When he’d first taken his clothes off, she thought she couldn’t get enough of looking at him, because he was built like a god. Wide, powerful shoulders, his chest a wall of bronze skin and solid, heavy muscle. Lean waist and long, strong legs. A Maori tattoo, lots of black ink and graceful curves, climbed up one arm and over his shoulder, a piece of roughly carved greenstone on a flax cord hanging in the center of his chest. A stylized fishhook.

Gorgeous. Impossibly sexy.

Like now, leaning over her, all dark eyes and a fierce intensity that called her own to aching life. The smell of him and the heat of his body surrounded her and she had the weird impression that when she was with him, nothing could touch her. Not the cancer. Not the loneliness. Not the fear.

She was safe.

“I’m going to show you some things,” he murmured, staring down at her. “And you may feel uncertain and you might want to say that word of yours.”

Her throat felt thick and sore so she didn’t speak, only nodded to show she understood.

“But you’re not going to say that word, ballerina. You’re going to lie there and show me how strong you are by taking what I give you, okay? And I’m going to give you pleasure. I’m going to show you that not all pain, not all loss of control is bad.” He ran a hand down her side, a soothing touch that made her shiver all the same. “You might feel scared, but that’s okay. You trust me to lead you, don’t you?”

“Yes.” The word came out on a croak.

“Good.” Another long stroke. “Trust your body as well. It knows what it wants.”

She swallowed, her mouth dry. “Okay.”

His hand cupped her breast, his palm warm. Then he lowered his head and kissed her, at the same time pinching her nipple hard.

An intense bolt of sensation raced through her and she gasped against his mouth. The pinch hurt and yet she found herself aching, desire gathering in the pit of her stomach. He pinched her again, nipping at her lip and she shuddered. Then his hand slid down over her abdomen, moving down between her legs, the tip of one finger brushing over her exquisitely sensitive clit.

Lily jerked, gasping, the steel of the handcuffs hard against her wrists.

Kahu lifted his head and looked down at her and she had the impression he could see every part of her, every inch of her soul. “Are your hands okay? They haven’t gone numb?”

“Yeah, they’re okay… Oh…” The words ended on another gasp as his finger began to move in tight, concentrated circles around her clit, generating a flood of pleasure so sudden and intense it took her breath away.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his finger moving faster. “Take it, ballerina. Feel it.”

Jesus, she couldn’t help but feel it, the pleasure beginning to build fast and hard. She stiffened as it intensified. Too much too quickly and yet he didn’t stop, his finger circling, teasing, forcing her higher.

The orgasm crashed over her without any warning, so tight and hard she had to close her eyes in a futile attempt to minimize the impact, her breathing hoarse, her body jerking helplessly in response.

Lights flashed behind her eyes as she lay there trying to figure out just what the hell had happened.

“Good girl.” His voice was a purr. “You did beautifully.” That teasing, taunting finger moved away and she felt his body shift on the bed.

Panting, she cracked open one eye. He was kneeling between her thighs, lifting something in his hands. She couldn’t quite see what it was but when she felt something cool and smooth press against the opening of her body, she understood.

“No…please…” She moaned as he slid the vibrator gently into her. “I can’t…it’s too much.” She felt pulled tight as a rubber band, as if any more sensation would make her snap.

“Yes, you can. You can take anything and everything I give you.” He pushed her thighs apart wider, spreading the sensitive folds of her sex wider with his fingers, easing the toy in deeper. Then he switched it on.

Overloaded nerve endings screamed as pleasure crashed over them and she groaned, her hips jerking helplessly. “Kahu…I can’t… Jesus…”

His hands stroked her forehead and down her neck, down over her shoulders. Soothing her, calming her. And then he cupped her breasts and pinched both nipples hard again. Lightning flashed between her sex and her nipples, a bright bolt of white-hot sensation. She let out a choked cry.

She’d never dreamed it was possible to feel this intensely, this completely. And despite the uncertainty and the fear, something hungry in her soul reveled in it.

It had been so long since she’d been touched, so long since she’d felt any kind of physical pleasure. Kahu’s touch and the things he was doing to her were like rich food to a starving woman.

She couldn’t resist, couldn’t refuse. Oh she could say her word, but she didn’t want to. Something in her craved all the sensation, as much of it as she could get, hoarding it for some long, cold winter.

“Keep your eyes closed, I think,” he said softly. “And remember. This is for pleasure.”

Then something cold pinched one nipple, a sharp pressure that didn’t ease. And then the same pressure pinched the other nipple. She gasped, pain a bright thread weaving through the pulse of pleasure between her thighs.

“Kahu…” His name came out as a desperate croak.

“It’s okay, ballerina. Breathe and remember the music. Don’t fight it. Let it guide you. This pain is good, it won’t harm you.”

The pressure on her nipples was intense, the vibrations in her sex making her pant, making her jerk against the handcuffs around her wrists. Too much, too much.

His hands stroked her body, both soothing and inciting at the same time, down her hips and her thighs, caressing. A reassurance. Then she felt him take hold of the vibrator and begin to move it.

A sob caught in her throat, pleasure building like dark fire. And then, at the same time, she felt the pressure on her nipples increase, the pain sparking, joining the pleasure, becoming something more, something she’d never experienced in her entire life.

She arched, crying out, writhing helplessly. It felt like he was redrawing the pathways of her brain, rewiring them, showing her a new kind of sensation. Where pain was a variation on ecstasy, and pleasure, an exquisite kind of agony.

Where there was nothing but sensation, feeding the hunger that lived inside her, the yearning that had brought her to this point.

The world compressed, narrowed to encompass only the pressure on her nipples and the pulse of the vibrator between her legs. And Kahu’s hands touching her, stroking her. Caressing her. Building and building the pleasure, layer upon layer, playing her body like an instrument. Making her sing. Making her fly.

Sparks flew behind her closed lids, stars glittered.

Someone was sobbing.

The pleasure/pain was the music she danced to, the air she breathed. It was her entire existence.

But in the end, her body could only take so much.

Lily screamed when the orgasm finally crashed down on her, complete as the world ending. Obliterating her consciousness, smashing her into pieces so small she was nothing but dust.

And afterwards she lay there while her soul returned to her, her heartbeat thumping and her pulse pounding. Burning steadily like a flame in the dark.

Kahu leaned over her, his heart pounding like a drum in his ear. She lay with her eyes closed, breathing fast and hard, her face wet with tears, red-gold curls stuck to her neck and forehead. He could see the aftershocks hit her in the tremble of her thighs and the movement of her breasts, the chain from the nipple clamps swinging slightly.

He couldn’t seem to get a breath. Watching her take what he gave her and then scream from the pleasure of it had done something to him. The calm and the focus he’d had earlier seemed to have gone. Now he felt wild, out of control. Beside himself.

His hands shook and his cock was so hard it was painful and he had to have her. He just had to fucking have her now.

“You did so well, ballerina,” he murmured roughly in her ear, reaching down between her thighs to remove the vibrator. “You’re such a good girl.”

She gave a little whimper as he slid the toy from her body then a groan as he gently uncuffed her and undid the nipple clamps, bending his head to lick the hard tips to soothe them.

She tasted of salt with a hint of vanilla that was all Lily, and he was suddenly completely desperate.

It was all he could do not to throw caution to the wind and push inside her immediately.

Fighting to find that calm again, Kahu reached for the nightstand drawer and the condoms in it. Keeping his movements slow and measured, he ripped open a packet and sheathed himself, his hands still shaking.

Fuck, what was wrong with him? He was never
this
desperate.

Leaning forward he gathered Lily into his arms, easing her into his lap so she was facing him, her skin damp and hot against his. “Are you ready for more?” He’d meant the question to sound soft, but it came out rough and far more ragged than he wanted.

“Yes.” Her answer was barely more than a sigh and he could feel her tremble.

He wanted to ask her if she was sure but he simply couldn’t wait. He felt like a rock climber on the edge of a mountain and about to fall, looking around desperately for something to hold on to before his hands slipped.

But there was only Lily.

He grabbed her hips, holding on tight, lifting her slightly before lowering her down onto him. She was so wet he slid in deep without any resistance, her body tight and hot around him.

“Oh…” The breath sighed out of her. “Kahu…” Her hair was falling all over her shoulders, her mouth full and delicious, the look in her eyes dark and smoky, and he still couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

His grip on the edge of that mountain was slipping and he was going to fall.

Her hands lifted, cupping his face between her palms, her touch cool on his suddenly burning skin.

Now it wasn’t only his hands shaking but his whole body too, and he didn’t know the fuck why.

Her brow creased, her thumbs stroking along his jaw in an oddly tender motion. Then she bent and kissed him, lightly, delicately.

He shut his eyes because he couldn’t keep looking at her anymore, not with that expression on her face, the one that made him feel as if he was twenty again and she was far older. Like she knew things he didn’t.

Holding on tight, he flexed his hips, beginning to thrust up into her body. Hard. Deep.

“God…yes….” A soft moan then her hands sliding down his neck, stroking his throat, tracing the line of his collarbones, caressing his chest, his shoulders, his arms. Touching him like he was a wild animal she wanted to soothe.

And, fuck, he felt like a wild animal. This need, this desperation was spinning out of control, turning him into a beast driven only by instinct. There was something about the lightness of her touch, the care implicit in it that made him feel raw, like she was stripping away a layer of skin, leaving him with nothing but nerve endings.

He didn’t want light. He didn’t want soothing. He wanted hard and rough. Violent.

With a growl, he changed positions, pushing her onto her back. Then he lifted her leg up and over his shoulder, her hips flexing with the movement, shoving himself deeper inside her. The breath hissed in her throat, her hands gripping his shoulders. But that look in her eyes was still there, the one that told him she knew what he was doing.

“Lily.” Her name escaped without his permission.

She lifted a hand, touched his cheekbone then his mouth, tracing the shape of his lower lip. Gentle. So gentle. Touching him as if he wasn’t dirty, as if he wasn’t just an empty, broken-hearted whore.

He could feel something fracturing inside him, breaking like a crack in a pane of glass, spidering outwards.

Don’t let her get close. Don’t let her get near…

But it was too late. Far, far too late.

He was gasping, thrusting hard into her like he could crush the feeling inside him. Obliterate it with the sweetness of her mouth, the smooth skin of her body and the tight, wet heat of her cunt. Yet she kept touching him as he grew wilder, as the crack in his soul began to expand. Then he heard her gasp his name, feeling her sex contract around his cock, and it shattered completely.