BeyondAddiction (16 page)

* * * * *

Fallon shifted in the driver’s seat of her car, trying to
find a more comfortable spot. Even though Cord had treated her ass with a
soothing cream after he’d removed the extra-large plug, the aftereffects still lingered.
Every time she changed position or sat too quickly, the persistent burn singed
those delicate nerve endings and caused her discomfort. Deliberate, she was
sure, so she wouldn’t forget for a moment who her Master was and who she
belonged to.

Not that she wanted to forget. Truth be told, right now she
was glad for that persistent reminder to counteract the shadow of her run-ins
with Brian. Each time his name popped into her head, memories swept through her
of the hell he’d put her through and her inability to pull away. Of his ability
to break her down completely until she was nothing except what he permitted.

She needed Cord’s lightness to shield her from the dark.
Each time she crossed paths with Brian, the darkness invaded her, spreading
sick cravings through her body.

Fallon glanced at the clock on her dashboard. Three o’clock.
Good. She had just enough time to get to her next appointment, the last for the
day. This was a new client, referred by someone who had been at the party. The
new owner of the historic bed and breakfast on the edge of the Guadalupe River.
Supposedly they wanted to make it a destination facility, much like Cord’s
event center. According to her notes, the person who had bought the place had
closed it for renovations. Today she’d be meeting with Hill Country Resorts’
executive director.

First appointments always took a long time, but the good
thing was she’d be close to home and could be with Cord shortly after she
finished. Entering the address into her GPS, she pulled into traffic and headed
west.

The place was easy to find and the setting nearly took her
breath away. The grounds were filled with ancient massive oaks and other trees
native to the area. The building itself looked like a turn-of-the-century ranch
house, two stories with a wraparound porch. She could easily visualize it with
big clay pots of colorful flowers, rockers on the porch, people lounging at the
pool set off to the side.

With the right promotion, this place could be booked twelve
months out of the year.

There were two other vehicles in the parking lot, a brand
new SUV and a dark blue Lexus sedan. Fallon wondered who else would be at the
meeting besides—she pulled up the notes on her phone—Shelley Brandon. She
mounted the four steps to the porch and opened the front door, a massive piece
carved out of dark wood, and found herself in a reception area. There was the
typical check-in desk plus two chairs with a little table between them. She was
looking around, trying to decide if she should call out and announce herself or
just wait, when a woman hurried through an open doorway.

“You must be Fallon Crowe.” The woman, a tall brunette who
Fallon guessed was in her forties, held out her hand. “Michelle Brandon.
Shelley.”

“Nice to meet you. Where would you like to start? I thought
maybe you could give me a walking tour of the facility and the grounds first,
so I’d know what I’m talking about. Even in just a few moments I’ve come up
with some good ideas you might like.”

“Grounds. Tour. Yes.” Shelley wet her lips. “Actually, plans
have changed a little. The new owner is here and wants to meet with you
himself. This way, please.”

Fallon shifted her slim briefcase and followed. So the owner
was here. Good. That meant she could discuss her ideas directly and get his
input. But when Shelley opened the door to an office, Fallon nearly passed out.

Brian Willoughby rose from behind the antique desk and came
forward.

“I’ll take it from here, Shelley. Thanks.”

“Yes, Mr. Willoughby. Of course.” She nearly ran from the
room.

Fallon wanted to turn and run but her feet were rooted to
the floor. Besides, she was shaking so badly she was sure she’d fall on her
face.

How was it that after more than a year and a new
relationship, this man still held so much power over her? He was beside her in
seconds, his massive body looming. The fingers of one hand closed tightly
around her arm and guided her farther into the room. She wanted to resist but
the familiar feeling of subjugation seemed to envelop her, dulling her mind and
subverting her will to refuse.

“I-I thought—” she stammered.

“One of my companies bought this place. I thought this might
appeal to you.”

Was he actually offering the opportunity to handle the
promotion after demeaning and diminishing her ability for so long? Her head
spun.

“I— Yes, I—” Her brain seemed to have stopped working.

“Michelle was happy to do me a favor and greet you. I didn’t
want you to run off the moment you saw me.” The hard look on his face softened
slightly. “I think it’s time for you to stop running. You belong with me, you
know. You belong
to
me.”

“Brian, I—”

“Ssh, ssh, ssh.” He stood directly in front of her, reaching
out to stroke her jaw with the tips of his fingers. “Your skin is just as soft
as I recall. Like the petals of a flower.”

She hated the fact that his touch sent shards of lightning
straight to her pussy. That her juices soaked her panties at once. She shifted
uncomfortably.

“I don’t think—”

“Exactly. Don’t think.” He crowded her space, his body
barely a breath away. Those ice-blue eyes locked with hers and she was
powerless to turn away. To move at all. “I know you remember as well.” His
breath was a soft breeze on her skin. “My touch. My commands. The punishments
that excited you so much.”

Punishments. She wet her lips as images pierced her brain.
Her body manacled to the St Andrew’s cross. Heavy clamps on her nipples, the
ones that pulled and dragged on them. Other scenes where he’d punished her mind
as well as her body before delivering the pinnacle of pleasure. The benefit of
bending to his will.

His smile was one of satisfaction. “Yes, you remember all
right. You loved it when I spread you open, restrained, the vibrator humming
inside you while that thin whip striped your skin. Every time you climaxed
without my permission, I pulled out the heavy crop.” He blew out a breath. “I
still get hard when I remember your screams. Your pleas for mercy.” He moved
closer still, something she hadn’t thought possible. “You learned your lessons
well, Slave. Never disobey me. Never displease me. Remember how hard that made
me? You loved sucking my dick after that.”

Fallon’s heart rate accelerated. Somewhere in the back of
her mind she knew she should turn and flee the room. Run from this man. But his
touch, the penetrating look in his eyes, his mesmerizing presence, knocked her
back two years and all her good intentions melted like candle wax.

The present faded and disappeared as if wiped away with a
wet cloth as the past assaulted her. In an instant she was back in that
mausoleum of a house, shackled to the bed. Or sitting in a chair, naked,
waiting desperately for Brian to enter the room and give her absolution
for—what? Or completely undone when he stayed away from her for two or three
days, so grateful when he walked into the room she didn’t care what he did to
her.

In the beginning, before he’d moved her to his house, she’d
been drawn by the excitement of the attention from such a powerful man. By the
taste of the erotic, the forbidden. Images burst forth in her brain like shards
of lightning and she could feel her body’s automatic response.
God!
How
sick was it that she both feared and welcomed his anger? Would he punish her so
severely that she would be mindless with the pain?

But then the orgasm…

Her pussy spasmed as her body remembered the mind-numbing
intensity of her orgasms after harsh punishment. After denial. After strict discipline.

“I had to go to great lengths to arrange this, Slave,” he
went on, his voice almost seductive. Even when his words turned harsh his voice
was still soft. “I’m not pleased. I don’t like humiliating myself this way. You
deserve severe punishment for forcing me to do this.” His voice dropped,
falling into a hypnotic cadence. “And of course the ultimate reward. You like
that. I know you do. You loved it when I paddled that ass bright red, tied you
up and fucked you until you screamed. Until you had no breath left. Until,” he
growled, “your mind knew nothing except what I allowed it to know.”

Fallon couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from those eyes
that held the ability to rivet her in place. She made no protest when he
reached for her purse and briefcase, allowing him to set them on the desk. She
stood there as if encased in concrete, senses vibrating. She felt herself
falling into a familiar pattern of submission, of obedience to even the most
demeaning, humiliating things for a tiny scrap of approval and the promised
fulfillment.

“Here’s what we’re going to do.” He cupped her chin, his
fingers squeezing with a pain that was both brutal and seductive. “We’re going
to have a little punishment session, right now, just to remind you that you’ve
displeased me.”

He spoke in a conversational tone that Fallon found so at
odds with the situation. Her pussy contracted and moisture flooded her thong.
Her nipples were practically poking through the material of her bra.

Cord! Think of Cord!

“When I’m satisfied you’re properly contrite, I’ll put you
in my car and take you to my house so we can pick up where we left off so many
months ago.”

Fallon frowned. To his house? What? She was missing
something here, but he fucked-up her mind so badly with just the sound of his
voice that she had trouble thinking.

“But—”

“Silence.”

The familiar dictatorial voice, the tone that said he cared
enough for Fallon to brutalize her into submission. That his orders, the pain,
the degradation, were evidence of how much she meant to him. She felt herself
slipping into subspace, led there by that tone and the signals it sent to her
brain.

“No speaking without permission,” he continued. “If you’re
worried about your stupid car, I’ll have it taken back to that idiot you’re
living with. You won’t need any transportation from now on, anyway.” His
fingers circled her wrist, his thumb applying pressure on her pulse point so
that more weakness shot through her body.

“On your knees, Slave.” His voice had a sharpness to it now,
just as mesmerizing, invading her senses like a drug. Then it softened again.
“You’re still
my
Slave, you know.”

He exerted more pressure on her wrist and old habits and
reactions settled over her. Without thinking, she dropped to her knees in front
of him. Her shields liquefied like water and she was gripped with a burning
desire to please him. To get one scrap of praise. To do whatever he wanted if
only he’d give her shattering orgasms.

He bent forward, maintaining his grip. The pressure grew to
the point of pain.

“Eyes down. Who is your Master?
Answer me
, Slave.”

Somewhere in her subconscious, a tiny question trickled its
way through her brain.

What was she doing here?

Then another…

Why did she keep giving him this power over her?

She suddenly remember a lesson from one of her first Doms.
It seemed ages ago now, but his words just popped to the forefront of her mind.
“Always take care with your choices…with the Dom you give your power to.”

But his presence was so overwhelming, all rational thoughts
and lessons from well-meaning Doms disappeared. Her throat was so dry she
couldn’t get words out. But even when she swallowed at last, she couldn’t say
what he wanted to hear. Some semblance of sanity kept her silent as reality cut
through her like a sword.

When she didn’t say anything, he growled, “You’d better not
be thinking about that weak bastard who thinks he’s dominating you. I saw him
at lunch today, pretending he operated on the same social level. How
pathetic
.
I’m so disappointed in you, Slave, to let yourself be taken in by such a weak
Dom.”

His words were like a splash of cold water.

Oh god, Cord!

Fallon flinched as if she’d been struck. She couldn’t let
her mess,
this
mess, damage Cord. Images of him flashed through her
brain.

Cord, punishing her.

Cord, caring for her.

Cord, loving her.

That tiny shred of sanity exploded in her brain, piercing
her somnambulistic state. From somewhere deep inside, she found the strength to
push herself to her feet.

Grabbing her purse and briefcase, she fled the room, ran
from the building, across the porch and down the stairs. One of her shoes came
off but she didn’t stop to pick it up. She heard Brian shouting at her but she
kept going. Practically throwing herself into her car, she burned rubber as she
sped out of the parking lot.

She was at least five miles down the country highway before
she drew a full breath. Looking out her rearview mirror to be sure Brian wasn’t
following, she pulled over to the shoulder of the road, put the car in park and
went about pulling herself together. She was shaking so badly she was surprised
she hadn’t driven the car into a tree.

Holy mother. What is the matter with me? He says one
word, touches me, and I nearly fall at his feet.

She sat for a long time, slowing her breathing, gathering
her scattered thoughts. She could
not
—absolutely
not
—go home in
this state. Cord would take one look and read on her face everything that had
happened. And didn’t happen. In addition, she had only one shoe and telltale
moisture soaked her thong. She had to do some serious repairs first, both
mental and physical.

When she could do so without shaking, she picked up her cell
and punched in Cord’s number. Just the sound of his deep voice, so warm and easing
over her like molasses, centered her.