BeyondAddiction (9 page)

“Delicious,” he murmured, and smiled when a sigh of pleasure
whispered from her lips.

He took his time licking her pubis, reveling in the naked
flesh. As always, she tasted like seven kinds of sin. Keeping his body in check
was becoming a problem, but this was all about her tonight. All about showing
her that control equaled pleasure, not just pain. He tugged the outer lips of
her pussy with his teeth, gentle nips that made her shift her hips restlessly.
Sounds of pleasure burst softly from her lips, ratcheting up his own reaction.

As he worked on her sweet, plump flesh with his lips and
tongue and teeth, the erotic scent of her musk filled his nostrils. He dipped
his tongue lightly into her slit and found her liberally coated with her
liquid. His cock, already hard as a fence post, flexed in response.

Using his thumbs, he opened the lips of her pussy, pausing
to inhale her fragrance for a long moment. Nothing in the world smelled better
to him than the scent of her sex.

“The best perfume in the world, girl. The very best.”

He flicked a glance at her face. Seeing it suffused with
pleasure at his words, his heart kicked over and he knew he’d made the right
decision tonight.

He proceeded to subject her to torment of the most sensual
kind, lapping and licking, abrading the swollen nub of her clit. The richness
of her flavor and her mouthwatering taste never ceased to amaze him. Cord had
been with more women than he liked to count but none had invaded his heart—as
well as his brain and his body—the way Fallon did. Even as he focused on
tantalizing her with pleasure, he vowed to do whatever it took to wipe that
bastard from her life, from her very soul.

By the time he slid his tongue into her waiting pussy, she
was writhing beneath him, muscles flexing and tensing with her feeble attempts
to hold her body still. He knew exactly what she liked and how she liked it,
and he played her like an expensive musical instrument. With his tongue deep
inside her cunt, he pinched her clit,
hard
, and Fallon erupted. Her
inner muscles spasmed around his tongue and her hips jerked with an involuntary
motion.

Tremors still rocked her when he slid his tongue from
between her legs.

“I specifically remember telling you not to come until I
gave you permission,” he reprimanded, hiding a smile. Making her lose control
was one of his favorite things to do. “I think we’ll just have to try that
again. No movement, girl. No orgasm except by my command. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, Sir.” Her voice shook with the force of her arousal
as she answered him.

Again he took her up to the edge, using every skill he
possessed to arouse and tease. Time and again, with skill and patience, he
worked her to the brink of climax. Whenever he felt her approaching the
precipice, he withdrew his hands and mouth and eased her back. He had to call
up every bit of self-control he possessed to hold himself back as he lovingly
worked her body. But as her Dom, it was his responsibility to do so. And he
took that particular responsibility seriously.

When the tenor of her erotic moans reached a point that
signaled she was close to the end of her control, he thrust his tongue inside
her, slipped one finger into the hot clasp of her rectum and with another pinch
of her clit, drove her over the edge.

She was panting and sweaty as he eased her down, watching
for the spasms to slowly abate. When the tremors faded to aftershocks, he
rolled on a condom and drove into her hot, wet cunt. He leaned close to her ear
to whisper, “That’s the
second
time you’ve come without permission. What
a bad sub you are.” He clucked his tongue. “I guess that means I’ll have to
fuck you extra hard.”

Then he sealed his mouth to hers.

Hands pressing the mattress on either side of her, Cord
drove deeper and deeper into the welcoming heat of Fallon’s body, fucking her
with his mouth as well as his shaft. He wanted to erase every vestige of Brian
Willoughby from her body and her mind if he could. He knew she was exhausted
but he wanted this last, complete climax for her. A joining. A confirmation
that they were one.

He worked her hard for it, pounding into her almost
viciously as her whimpers grew louder and louder, hanging on to his own control
until he felt her body begin to unwind beneath his. At that moment, he wished
there was no condom separating them, just flesh to flesh. With one final,
severe thrust, he drove them both into an intense climactic spiral, bodies
shuddering together.

He lifted his mouth from hers and pressed it lightly to the
spot beneath her ear as they lay there, dragging air into their lungs, hearts
beating like jungle drums. When he could move again, he brushed her hair back
from her face and dropped light kisses on her eyelids.

“Who is your Master?” he demanded softly.

“You are, Sir.”

“Do you know your Master loves you? Will always take care of
you?”

“Y-Yes. I do.”

“I’m going to say this again and hope you remember it.” He
brushed his mouth against hers. “You never have to be afraid of me, Fallon. All
you have to fear are secrets. I want none between us.”

“I know.”

He hated the faint trace of panic that still lingered in her
eyes. A leftover from that damn Willoughby, he was sure. Somehow he’d find a
way to erase that. He kissed her again, scorching her mouth with his tongue,
trying to breathe what he felt into her body.

“I agreed not to press you for more details until after the
party. But a promise is a promise. That’s when I want it all. Every bit that
you haven’t told me so far. Promise me. And I promise
you
there will be
nothing to be afraid of.”

“I do.” She let out a soft sigh. ”I will.”

He kissed her once more, a kiss of love rather than passion.
A message from his heart. And he promised himself he’d do whatever it took to
break Brian’s hold.

Stripping off the condom and dropping it into the basket
beside the bed, he opened her fingers from their grasp of the headboard. With
great care, he massaged the stiff muscles of her arms and eased them down to
her sides.

“That’s the end of it,” he told her as he worked the rest of
her body, “unless the thoughts you told me about, the vestiges of your time
with him, continue to plague you. Then you’ll talk it out with me.” He stroked
her hair, trying to infuse a calmness into her that he was barely feeling
himself. “And we’ll do whatever it takes to get you through it.”

“Thank you, Sir.” She let out a great, shuddering sigh.

“Say ‘thank you,
Cord
’,” he urged softly, emphasizing
the use of his name. Personalizing it. A signal that they were out of their D/s
roles.

“Thank you, Cord,” she repeated.

He held her a while longer, one hand smoothing her hair, until
he felt her heartbeat slowing and her breathing evening out.

While he ran hot water in the tub, he battled all the
emotions warring inside him. Cord wanted to believe that tonight had pulled her
back into the embrace of their relationship. Now he needed to be calm, to be
her rock and her strength to get her through this. Running into the fucker
today apparently opened up old feelings. Old wounds. The lingering remains of
her addiction to him. And, he was sure, the leftovers from her upbringing that
had convinced her she was less than everyone else in her family.

The Willoughby was clearly the most dangerous threat, to
both their happiness and Fallon’s sanity. It would take every bit of his
knowledge and love to get her through this and completely wipe him from her
system.

But as he carried her into the bathroom minutes later,
carefully placing tender kisses on her shoulders and neck, he promised himself
that somehow he’d find a way to do it.

And make her believe that his love for her was stronger than
anything else.

Fallon knew Cord would be angry when she finally told him
all the details about her relationship with Brian. Just as she’d known in her
heart that said relationship had been flawed from the beginning. Her attachment
to him was a sickness, an addiction, and she hadn’t had the strength to cure
herself. If not for Claire, she might still be trapped in a situation she was
unwilling to change.

The confrontation with Brian earlier in the day had churned
up old, addictive feelings that had threatened to swamp her. She’d needed every
ounce of willpower to jerk herself away from him and run into the store. All
the way home, she’d told herself she could just put it out of her mind, but
even then she knew how unrealistic that was. Knew Cord would take one look at
her and know something had happened. And she’d have to tell him.

He had shocked her by refusing to punish her. Instead he’d
wrung her out sexually and emotionally, silently telling her what she meant to
him. With Cord it was far more than just a sexual relationship. More than a
cycle of pain and pleasure. There were real feelings here, things she’d never
felt before. And the depth of those feelings shocked and frightened her. What
if she wasn’t up to it? What if her weak body and mind betrayed her again?
Betrayed what they had together?

She hoped this could be a new beginning for her and Cord. A
new path for their relationship. Now when the unpleasant thoughts intruded, she
had someone to take them to. She hoped.

I have to. I want this more than anything.

But did she? Really? Tonight she’d been afraid the
connection between them had been fractured. She had to find a way to repair it,
but when she closed her eyes, all she could see was Brian looming over her,
bringing her to a knife-edge of pain that resulted in unbelievably explosive
releases. So intense she couldn’t separate the pain from the pleasure.

She knew how sick that was. And how important it was for her
to break the addiction. But she would have to do it. For herself as well as for
Cord.

She waited quietly now to see what Cord would do next.
Focused completely on him.

Yes. Focus. Focus. Focus.

It surprised her when he lifted her in his arms and carried
her into the bathroom. He was just so damn good to her, always concentrated on
her aftercare. Always on her well-being. How did she let any trace of Brian
intrude on this?

Because you’re sick, that’s how.

Placing her gently on the seat at the vanity, Cord reached a
hand into the Jacuzzi tub, adjusting the temperature of the water until he was
satisfied.

She sat, docile, watching him fiddle with the taps. She
loved this tub, built against one wall with a wide ledge on all sides. Glass
blocks surrounded it on three sides, set into the walls. When they lit candles
at the corners, the lights danced in the glass like a rainbow ballet. Soothing.
He told her once he’d had the tub made especially for him, wider and deeper
than most.

“The better to hold two people,” he’d explained.

He reached for one of the tall jars of bath salts kept in a
tray at one corner of the tub and sprinkled some liberally into the water.

“This will help relax you,” he said over his shoulder.

“Thank you, Sir.” She couldn’t seem to pull herself out of
sub mode. If he wanted to flay every inch of skin from her body right now, she
might just let him. Almost wished he would. Yes, beat Brian out of her so she
was cured once and for all.

But that’s not Cord. And I’m damn lucky to be with him. I
just need to keep remembering that.

When the tub was full, he turned off the taps and crouched
beside her, taking her hands in his.

“What I wish,” he said, slowly, “is that Brian Willoughby
hadn’t pounced on you like a cat with a mouse. Just as he does with everyone
and everything. I wish he hadn’t been in your life. And I wish that you felt
comfortable enough in our relationship to tell me about everything you went
through with him.”

“I don’t—” she began.

He touched his fingertips to her mouth. “Ssh. No more. It’s
done. We’ve agreed to wait. Until then, we continue to move forward.”

He lifted her and placed her gently in the tub, pressing the
button for the jets. The steady whooshing created froth on the surface of the
water, bubbles that kissed her shoulders. Cord knelt beside the tub and let his
hand drift down to her pussy, stroking the well-used flesh. She tightened her
thighs around him.

“I want you to feel this not just tonight, but tomorrow and
the day after and the day after. To remember the pleasure I gave you over and
over. Satisfaction that your Master gives you because he loves you. That I,
Cord, give you as your lover.”

She bowed her head. “Yes, Sir.”

“Cord,” he reminded her.

She bobbed her head. “Cord.”

He should have punished me with the belt. The cane.
Anything.

She wanted him to purge her of the sickness that had gripped
her for too long. Even now a tiny thread of fear wriggled through her, a sense
that she and Brian still weren’t finished.

Go away! I’m done with you!

Her traitorous subconscious had no business teasing her
about
him
, not when she now had such a good and caring Master. One whose
possession promised love and safety and who was meticulous about aftercare.

“Up on your knees.”

Cord urged her to a kneeling position, facing away from him.
Stretching over her, he placed her hands on the ledge of the tub, curling her
fingers to indicate she should hold on for support. In this position, her ass
and her pussy were completely exposed to his touch.

“What—?”

“Hush. Let me take care of you.” He busied himself adjusting
the direction of the jets and shifting her body slightly. “There now. That’s
what I want.”

What he wanted, apparently, was for the force of water from
two of the jets to pulse directly into her vagina.

Oh god!

She tried to shift to a different position so the
stimulation on her overused cunt wasn’t so intense, but Cord slapped her
smartly on the ass.

“Uh-uh. Behave, girl, or I’ll have to get out the paddle.”
He patted her cunt. “Those jets are great for stimulation, aren’t they?” He
laughed, a deep, sensuous sound, lightly dragging the tips of his fingers over
her folds.

She clenched her jaw and tried to ride the erotic
thunderstorm brewing inside her.

“Fallon, I want to understand that you can trust me enough
to tell me things, even if you believe I won’t like them or might be angry.
It’s my responsibility to protect you. I can’t do it properly unless I know all
your demons.”

She bowed her head, holding her body still as he reached
around and cupped her breasts, lightly tugging on the nipple rings. “I
understand. I do.” Fallon had a sense there was more he wanted to say but
tonight he’d pushed her as much as he was going to.

After the party. I’ll tell him the rest after the party.

Pulling her back against him, he allowed her to lean against
the hard wall of his chest.

“Don’t move. Just a little stroking to remind you who owns
this cunt.”

With the tip of one finger, he traced her opening over and over,
fingernail scraping lightly across the ultrasensitive skin of her clit. Surely
he knew she couldn’t take any more. Didn’t he?

“No,” she cried when he took his hand away. She could hardly
believe that after the way he’d played her body for what seemed like hours, she
was on the verge of being fully aroused again.

He nipped the shell of her ear. “So responsive,” he
murmured. “Always ready for my touch like a good subbie.” He bit the sensitive
area where her neck and shoulder joined. “The best subbie.”

She sighed in relief when his fingers began their busy
pattern again, this time moving faster, punctuating the rhythm with tiny
pinches. When his fingers closed over her clit, she couldn’t hold back the
groan of pleasure and, despite his warnings, pushed against his touch.

Cord put his mouth next to her ear, his laughter soft, his
breath a warm, tickling breeze. “This belongs to me, you know. Whether I call
you girl or Fallon, in or out of a scene, it’s all mine.”

“Yes.” She was breathless with growing need. “All yours.”

Her cunt throbbing with need, her head fell forward. Cord
urged her to sit, reclining back against one end of the tub, then he spread her
legs wide and propped her feet on the ledge on each side.

“Close your eyes,” he directed, taking her hands and placing
them behind her head. “And don’t open them until I tell you to.”

And then she fell into a cloud of sensuality, where the only
thing she could focus on was his fingers—rubbing her clit and the lips of her
pussy, tracing the circle of her opening. And the steady pounding of water from
the jets against her body. She wanted to squeeze her thighs together, trapping
his hand, forcing his fingers inside her, but she knew he’d stop altogether if
she did. She certainly didn’t want to go to bed trembling on the edge of
orgasm. Unfulfilled. So she stayed as he’d arranged her, biting her lower lip
as Cord stimulated and aroused every nerve ending.

By the time he dragged a fingertip down from her clit to
slide inside her, Fallon was nearly insane with need. Being unable to close her
thighs was driving her mad. He added a second finger, then a third, thrusting
in and out in a maddeningly slow rhythm. Slowly he adjusted his hand so his
thumb pressed against her clit.

“Don’t move,” he reminded her, his hand and fingers moving
faster and harder.

And then, finally—
finally!—
the tremors began deep
inside her body, spiraling upward until she was sure she would explode.

Fallon jerked against his hold as spasm after spasm rocked
her. Fisting her hands, she tightened her fingers and dug her nails into her
palms. The walls of her pussy clenched tightly around Cord’s fingers, and she
rode the tidal wave of the orgasm as it shook her, gasping for breath.

When the last vibrations subsided, he slipped his fingers
from her body and cupped her chin, turning her head so they could look at each
other. His smile was equal parts male satisfaction, caring, and some emotion
she couldn’t identify.

She was only peripherally aware of him turning off the jets,
draining the water from the tub, lifting her out to stand on a thick mat. A
large towel from the heated racks dried the moisture from her skin. Although he
hadn’t imposed any painful punishment, he still rubbed soothing lotion into
every inch of her skin.

Drowsy now, eyes closed, she leaned into him as he lifted
her into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. In seconds she heard the
rustle of bedclothes as he pulled back the covers then felt the kiss of the
soft sheets against her abused skin. Cord settled her on her side, one hand
beneath her head the way she usually slept. Minutes later the bed dipped as he
climbed in and pulled her against him, fitting their bodies together. His breath
was warm as he brushed a soft kiss over her cheek.

She was safe with him. Sheltered. Cared for. Nothing bad
could happen again.

She hoped.

Please.

And finally, she tumbled into a dreamless sleep.

* * * * *

Brian Willoughby pulled into the three-car garage and turned
off the engine of his sleek silver Lexus LFA. Pulling the key from the
ignition, he sat in the dark for a moment, staring through the windshield at
the blank wall. Today had gone so well for him until he’d made that unscheduled
stop at La Cantera. One minute he was mulling his latest business deal, the
next he was in full-body contact with Fallon Crowe.

Fallon.

That bitch!

Just thinking her name left a bitter taste on his tongue.
The thought of how she’d left filled him with rage.

What a sweet sub she’d been. Well trained to be obedient.
Just the way he liked them. Hooked by his particular brand of play from the
first moment he’d restrained her and given her a mind-blowing orgasm. Little by
little, seduction by seduction, he’d drawn her in. Until she was so addicted to
him, to his approval, that he could finally move on to what he
really
wanted—total control of both her body and mind.

He wasn’t sure which he enjoyed most—drawing a woman into
his circle of depravity or completely destroying her afterward. Much the same
way he dealt with the businesses he acquired and the people he hired.

After his discovery of BDSM on the web, he’d surfed lots of
sites, mostly searching for types of punishments. He’d read all the crap about
safe words, trust and respecting your sub. Brian respected no one but himself.
His object was control. He was also aware of the ridiculous “safe, sane and
consensual” mantra spouted by soft imbeciles.

He didn’t require anyone’s consent for anything. He made the
rules and they played by them. He enticed them and they succumbed to
temptation. End of story. He saw anything else as weakness. And he had no plans
to change.

The pictures he saw of women in extreme situations of
torture, their expressions mixtures of pain and pleasure; the stories he’d read
about the sophistication of sexual torture, made his cock swell and his balls
ache.
That
was what he wanted. To add extreme pain into the sexual mix
and ingrain the need for it into another human being.

He’d trolled for the perfect sub immediately and found what
he was looking for almost at once.

After several years and many subs, he’d learned even more
about himself. A woman bored him once he’d broken her completely, once she was
completely dependent on him in all ways. Her pleasure was secondary to his. And
the need to take things to more and more extreme levels continued to grow.

Brian had discovered his ultimate satisfaction came in the
complete destruction of another human being.