Safe in His Arms (8 page)

Drying off, she walked back into the bedroom naked, gasped, and stopped cold. Zac sat on the edge of her bed, a grim expression on a face bruised and cut, his belt folded in his hand.

“You are in so much trouble,” he said.

* * *

Becca stared at him with wide eyes, flashes of shock, joy, and fear flying over her face. She gave a strangled bark of laughter as her eyes filled with tears. He dropped the belt as he stood and wrapped his arms around her. Her naked breasts pressed against his ribs, her bare skin so soft under his fingers. “Shh, it’s okay,” he whispered against her temple, kissing her citrus-smelling hair. “It’s okay, sweetheart.” She gave a muffled giggle/sob into his shirt and he ran his palms up and down the smooth lines of her back, hoping his callused hands didn’t feel too rough. “Shh, baby. You’re all right. Just breathe.”

He planted little kisses across her temple and into her hair, cradling her face and holding her sweet, vulnerable form against him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I will find a way for you to contact me. I’ll figure something out.”

She gave another laughing sob.

He altered his voice from soothing to firm. “You don’t need to do anything as incredibly stupid as that again.” He slapped her ass with a resounding crack. She squeezed her cheeks together and pressed her hips closer to him. He slapped her again and again on the same cheek and she clung more tightly to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, leaning into him as if for comfort despite the fact that it was he who was inflicting the pain. He reached further to swat the other cheek, to make it even, and his thigh pressed between hers. She ground her hips over it, the warm moisture of her pussy dampening his pants. His own breath quickened and his cock swelled as he spanked harder, as hard as he could manage from their position. She rubbed her eager sex up and down over his thigh, whimpers of pain sounding remarkably similar to the cries of ecstasy, making his cock strain at his pants.

He put his lips near her ear, still spanking, keeping his hand loose and enjoying the frenzy of pleasure and pain he was working into her. “I’m going to spank you, and then I’m going to whip you, and then I’m going to paddle you,” he said in a low growl. “And if you’re lucky I might fuck you when I’m done. But I do promise you won’t sit comfortably tomorrow.”

She shuddered and he realized she’d climaxed, giving a strangled screech of protest, gluing her body to his as her pelvis jerked, her muscular buns tightening, her legs clamping firmly around his thigh. He squeezed her ass with one hand and held her against him with an arm around her waist until she stopped jerking, then pulled her to the bed where he guided her over his lap. He nudged his knee up, shifting her body to angle her rear end high in the air, making it a perfect target. He began a new set of spanks. She laid heavily over him, spent from her climax, the endorphins probably counteracting most or all of the pain he was attempting to inflict on her pink bottom.

“Don’t you ever take a risk like that again,” he growled, smacking the backs of her thighs, which won him a reactionary kick and squeal.

“I won’t!” she gasped. “I promise!” Her peaches-and-cream skin was a pretty shade of pink already, the outline of his fingers appearing with each swat.

“You’ve been a very bad girl,” he scolded, continuing to abuse the backs of her thighs, where he seemed to be able to make an impression.

“Ouch! I’m sorry!”

He stopped and rubbed her cheeks, relishing the feel of her firm muscle, so perfectly shaped. “Let’s see,” he said musingly. “What is it they say? Not half as sorry as you’re going to be?”

She groaned. He pushed her to stand between his knees, her hardened nipples impudently close to his face. He resisted the temptation to take one into his mouth. That would come later. This was discipline. He dragged his eyes higher to her face and gripped her thighs, giving her a little shake. “That was stupid, Becca!”

“I know!” she exclaimed, her face flushed and her eyes wild.

“Go stand in the corner.”

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled, turning away quickly, as if relieved not to be under his scrutiny any longer. She pressed her nose so far in the corner, she leaned her forehead against it. A tremor ran through his body straight to his already eager cock at the sight of her, so exquisite in full nudity, the pink of her spanked skin and the humility of her pose conveying utter submission. He’d never craved submission from a woman before he’d had it from her, but now…the power of it, the trust—that was it, wasn’t it?

He had very little trust in his life. His government trusted him enough to kill, to not roll over under torture, to carry out missions no one else would or could. But they might just as easily order his death on a whim. So that wasn’t trust. And there was the tenuous trust between other agents—with Marcus perhaps more than others. But that, too, was false. If he showed up unexpectedly at any one of their homes, they’d pull out a gun and shoot him before asking questions. All of them lived in as much fear of being eliminated by their own organization as by an enemy. No, Becca was the first person who trusted him, and who made him want desperately to be worthy of her gift. Her trust unsteadied him, even as it shored him.

“Come back to me, Becca,” he said, his voice soft with tenderness.

She came back, eying him uncertainly. He picked up his belt from the floor and stood as he doubled it, watching the way her eyes flickered from his face to the implement. He cupped her chin. “You’re not going to cry French fry on me today, are you?” he asked.

“No, sir,” she whispered.

“Good girl. Now bend over the bed and hold your own wrists behind your back.”

She took the position, her hesitation seeming to be over a desire to get his instructions right rather than out of unwillingness. She folded her arms behind her, gripping her own wrists.

“Good girl.” He brought the strap down with enough force to make her jerk and gasp, then repeated the action again and again, not allowing her to catch her breath or manage her emotions.

Her toes began to scramble on the floor as she wriggled in pain. He saw a sheen of sweat break out on the skin of her back. She released her wrists, then caught them again, her natural instincts to avoid pain clearly battling with her desire to please him.

He whipped her hard, because this was a lesson he truly wanted her to learn, beyond any kind of kinky fun and games they might play. Her safety meant everything to him. He would kill or die for her, and to have her take such a needless, stupid risk wasn’t something he would let slide.

He whipped until the sound of a sob made him falter. He didn’t want to go on. He’d spanked soundly and she was already crying. His urge to protect pushed to the foreground, as he let go any desire to teach her a lesson. He cursed himself for promising a paddling as well. Dropping the belt, he rolled her up into his arms, kissing her wet cheek. A stinging behind his own eyes surprised him and he blurted out its cause in a choked voice: “I love you, Becca.”

* * *

She’d been hiding her face against his chest, but her eyes flew open at his words as she stared at him in surprise. He looked shocked himself, as if he hadn’t meant to say such a thing out loud. He blinked rapidly.

“Speak low if you speak love,”
she murmured.

His brow furrowed, then cleared. “Shakespeare?”

She nodded, reaching up to touch his cheek, then pulled his head down to hers, her mouth hungry for his, her tongue aggressive. His hands tightened on her, and he lifted her as he stood, returning her kiss with a heat and urgency that sent an enthusiastic spasm through her pussy.

He broke the kiss and tossed her back on the bed, peeling his shirt off in one swift motion, unbuttoning his pants as he climbed over her. The sight of an angry gash across his ribs made her gasp, but he ignored it, grabbing her knees and pushing them back to her shoulders, rolling her up like a ball and opening her sex to him. She jerked as his warm tongue licked into her, already just one stroke away from orgasm. The fresh pain of the whipping morphed into nothing more than a titillating sensation to track, along with the stimulation of his fingers pinching and tugging on one nipple as he worked his magic below.

“Please,” she pleaded, palming his head as his tongue penetrated and retreated, then circled her clit. She moaned and pushed his face into her, unable to move her hips against him in the position he had her pinned. “Please…Zac. Please,” she begged. She fought for control of her legs, but he smacked her flayed butt to keep her in place, turning her to mush with the evoked submission.

He slid two fingers inside, finding her g-spot. She let out a squeal, panic at her loss of control welling up moments before she squirted. Embarrassed, she tried to squirm away, but Zac didn’t relent.

“Oh, yeah, Becca,” he murmured approvingly at the squirt, pumping his fingers in and out of her, hitting the g-spot each time until her muscles clamped down on his fingers and she howled with the orgasm that ripped through her. Her entire body trembled as he gradually released her knees and slid his fingers out of her. She collapsed in a limp heap, panting, staring up at him. He climbed over her, settled his hips between her legs, and murmured in her ear. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten that paddling.”

Another spasm flitted through her pussy, even as her mind rebelled. Her butt was on fire, and the pain went deeper than the surface, so she was sure Zac’s promise she wouldn’t sit comfortably would come true. She absolutely did not want—could not take—an additional paddling.

She reached her hand down, slipping her hand in his unbuttoned pants. “Does this mean I’m getting lucky?”

He cracked a grin, the first she’d seen since he arrived, transforming his face from the blank but intense mask to a boyish mug. “Didn’t you already?” he asked, but he was reaching in his pocket, pulling out a condom.

She wanted to suck his cock, to return the favor for the pleasure he’d given her, but she didn’t know the rules of the game. Was she supposed to ask permission? “Wait,” she said when he ripped open the foil package. He paused, the blank mask returning to his face. “I want to…I mean, may I…uh,” she tightened her grip on his cock and gave him a push. The smile returned as he allowed her to roll him onto his back and free his hardened cock from his boxer briefs, watching with glittering eyes. She crawled over him, but he grabbed her waist and pulled her to the side, so she was perpendicular to his body. He slapped her ass, demonstrating the reason for the position. “I need to be able to punish you if require correction,” he said silkily and she felt a dribble of moisture leak from her pussy.

He ran his hand over her blistered backside, reminding her of his dominance as she circled the rim of his cock with her tongue, and his hand squeezed when she took one long, slow lick from balls to tip. She was not so very experienced with giving head; in fact, her earliest attempts back in college had required a great deal of liquor, but she read a lot of smut, and her desire to please him made her eager. She took him into her mouth as far as she could without gagging, then positioned the head of his penis in the pocket of her cheek and slid up and down his length in that placement. She tasted the salt of a bit of pre-cum and was fascinated to discover how, when mixed with her saliva, it turned into a viscous lubricant, speeding her lips up and down along his straining cock.

“Slow down,” he commanded, smacking her sore ass.

She whimpered and obeyed, slowing her strokes, then pulling off to lick around the rim again. His fingers slid into her swollen slit and in her enthusiasm, she began to pump her mouth over him rapidly. He slapped her ass again and let his finger wander to her tight asshole. She listed away from him, embarrassed, and he smacked her ass again.

“Lie down, Becca,” he commanded. “On your belly.”

She pulled off his cock and sucked in her breath, wondering if he was going to fuck her ass. She had never had anal sex before, and the idea made her nervous. He kneaded her punished cheeks, then parted them. She buried her face in the comforter. He pushed at her tight entrance with his thumb.

“I bought you a butt plug, Becca,” he said softly. “And a special paddle.”

Her heart hammered in her chest, excitement and fear pumping in equal measures. She heard the sound of the condom and then his cock slipped into her dripping pussy.

“We’ll save them for later,” he murmured.

Relieved, she arched her back, moving back to meet him. He fit his body over hers, his front to her back, his hands holding her shoulders from the front for leverage. He pressed firmly against her sore bottom, reminding her with each thrust of his punishment and her submission, making her wetter than she’d ever been before. He pounded into her roughly and she reveled in it, spreading her legs and lifting her ass, letting him drive. She heard his breath start to catch and she encouraged, “Yes, Zac!”

He pinched one of her nipples hard when he came, sending her into another powerful orgasm.

She caught her breath, loving the feel of his full weight pressing her into the mattress.

He nipped her ear and she giggled.

“Am I crushing you?”

“No. No, don’t—” she protested as he withdrew and discarded the condom.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, settling beside her, resting on one elbow and stroking her hair back from her face.

Yet.

The satisfaction of his return, of her multiple orgasms and even of his punishment—because it had been satisfying, even though she’d hated it at the time—was perversely shadowed by the knowledge that this moment would end.

“You’re going to walk right back out of our lives, aren’t you?”

Chapter Five

It was not often he felt helpless. Maybe never. Complete confidence in his own power was the trait that helped him survive desperate situations. But Becca’s question froze him like the proverbial deer in the headlights.