Tainted Love (Book 1) (35 page)

He needs control. He needs my submission. He needs me
in contrition.

Ben rises slowly. Taking his jacket off, he t
akes the belt from me. He doesn’t say a word when he seats me on the chair and places each leg up on either armrest so I’m spread eagled.

He secures
each foot tightly to the chair. Loosening his belt, Ben proceeds to bind my hands behind the chair, making me officially helpless, left up to his whim and fancy.

And, it’s just so fucking hot!

Ben undresses while behind me and I close my eyes, envisioning him: his chiseled frame, the tattoo splayed across his right pectoral, the light smattering of hair that meets his happy trail, his tight ass, toned legs and sexy feet. I imagine his muscles flexing with every contraction of his body. My sex clenches deliciously and I lick my lips in delight.

“Do you understand why I am doing this?” he asks from behind me.

Nerves are licking at my bones like a crackling fire, my voice comes out in a lustful tremble when I speak, “B-because I disobeyed you.”

“Good girl, you have acknowledged your misdeed,” he commends and my chest rises with pride like a peacock.
I did good.

Before I know it, his lips are on mine. His tongue prods, begging for permission. I part my lips granting his probing tongue access. It strokes in my mouth delicately and he moans gratifyingly. All too soon he breaks off the k
iss and I am left wanting more. I hear him tinker with something and then music starts playing.

The beat
of the familiar song starts up and Ben murmurs, “Hmm” in what sounds like intrigue and approval.
Addiction
by Ryan Leslie starts blasting through the room – definitely to block out my potential screams of pleasure – and excitement builds, desire unfurling deep within me. My only wish is that he would free me from my bonds so that I could give him a steamy strip dance. This is one of my go-to songs for such occasions and he could very well become my addiction.

Ben slides an eye mask over my face, blocking him from my view. My heart races as anticipation grows and threatens to burst inside me.
It’s not panic I feel as my breathing picks up in pace. Every breath now more coarse and unnatural is laced with a pungent longing. My sex throbs, needing relief; my breasts swelling with expectancy of his touch.

“I am
not doing this to scare you, my sweet, but to reinforce your submission, to strengthen your trust in me,” he announces, his voice a deep vibrato as I feel his presence hovering over me.

I bite my lip, wondering when, if ever, had I become his submissive. It’s a daunting idea, but I can’t say I am completely averse to it.

“I don’t consider you my submissive, Sullivan,” Ben chimes in, reading my thoughts. “But I do want you to submit to me because your submission pleases me. And my pleasure is yours, thus making your pleasure my own. It is symbiotic.”

He makes such perfect sense. Who wouldn’t want to submit to that? This shoots my desire up to epic proportions, my pleasure points tingling for this powerful man’s dominant touch. I need him to claim me, tame me…
to own me.

Soon my desires are stoked with the expert flick of Ben’s tongue over a peaked nipple.

“Ah,” I moan, tugging at my bound hands. A premeditated gesture from him no doubt.

My vision is clouded with thick sheets of darkness and I am left to imagine all of Ben’s movements, every action, every flick of his t
ongue; which makes me even wanton.

Ben sucks softly on my nipple while he rolls the other between his thumb and index finger. My sex ripples with need and my body – though bound and held in place – writhes. A low sound escapes Ben’s throat and it vibrates in my chest. It drives me crazy that he still hasn’t said a word to me. It can only mean that he’s still angry with me. Well, if every time he’s upset with me, I get fucked, why complain? It’s a win-win for everybody, isn’t it?

“Oohh,” I let out a vibrated moan at the sudden feel of Jerry on my clit.

Ben presses the vibrator with more urgency on my clit and suckles on my peaked nipple. My hips swivel under the pressure and I ache for him to be inside me. Ben slips the vibrator into my slick cleft and works it lazily. I try to grind on it to feel more
vibration so I can get to my much needed orgasm.

“
Ben,” I mewl when he pulls Jerry out of me and stops his gentle lapping of my nipples. My breathing is rumbling now, my body eager for pleasure and release.

I hear Jerry whirring at my ear and soon the vibration strikes my sensitive breasts, fluttering over each nipple. I throw my head back, tugging at my restraints. I need to grab him and urge his thick cock inside me. I need him.

Ben traces the vibrator down my body and thrusts it inside my welcoming sex once more. He works it harder, faster, hitting my sweet spot oh so deliciously.

And I’
m building.
Yes
!

No
! Ben pulls out of me and I scream at him, shuddering and bereft, the building orgasm quickly passing away.

He’s punishing me. He’
s punishing me? Oh yeah, for my childish behavior.

“Ben, please. I’m sorry,”
I cry, needing the release. My heart rate is so spiked that I feel like it will eventually stop. Still Ben says nothing.

He rams Jerry inside me once more, taking me by surprise, and I bellow in response to the feel of the dild
o vibrating my core. I hear Ben’s ragged breathing as he feeds the dildo inside me. He wants me and his ministrations are as much torture for him as it is for me.

The song changes and I hear the familiar voices of two people.

“No, big head
,” the woman says.

“
Come on, just sing it
,” the man urges.
Oh no. Not this song
.

“
Fine, but just this once
.”

The
woman then breaks into song. It’s me. It’s the song I’d written for Jared just before he left for France; just before he died. I hear the familiar strings of the guitar he’d bought me for my birthday strumming and my heart cracks into a million pieces of memories and devastation.

“
Adonis!” I scream at Ben, using my safe word.

“
Adonis,” I say more urgently. “Adonis!”

The vibrator comes to a halt and he pulls it out of me.

“Untie me!” I bark at him, as the song goes on.

“Promise…
to love and always cherish you. I promise…to make sure all your dreams come true.”

“
Untie me right now, damn it!” Tears spring to my eyes as Ben hurriedly loosens my legs then my arms.

I scramble to a standing position, still blindfolded. My legs wobble and with the blanket of darkness covering me, I fall hard to the floor.

“Jesus, Sullivan! Careful.” Ben helps me up and I shake violently from him, dashing the sleep mask off my face.

I grab the
iPod from the dock and I press stop. My heart aches inside my chest, pounding beyond its usual exertions. I sink to the floor, tears brimming at my eyelids. I can’t even look up at Ben who I’m sure is way past concern.

“Sully?”
Rachel knocks on the door. I know she heard the song and I know she knows what it means.

I shoot up quickly and rush to the door, naked. Opening it, she grabs me to her and takes me to her room.

“Shh, honey,” she strokes my hair as I sob into her lap on the bed, clutching the iPod.

Rachel had wrapped me in a fluffy robe when we got to
her room. I am a mess. I haven’t listened to that song in over two years, but I can’t delete it either.
Promise
is too painful for me to hear and too painful for me to delete.

“
He needs to know,” I say through tears.

“
God, he must be so terrified. I thought he’d have left by now.” Rachel says, surprised.

“He won’
t. Not until I explain, and I need to.” I straighten from Rachel’s lap and wipe the tears from my face.
What I must look like
!

“Are you sure you’
re up to it?” she dabs my face with the sleeve of her robe.

“
Whether I’m up to it or not, I owe him an explanation for the way I behaved.” I rise and open Rachel’s bedroom door.

My steps falter when I see him, larger than life in my apartment, sitting on the chaise by the window. He seems lost in thought as he looks
out over the Philadelphia skyline, one bare foot propped, with a hand outstretched across it, on the chaise.

Ben is bare-chested, only in his suit pants. His hair is disheveled, like he has been running his hand through it. My fingers twitch to do the same, but mostly just to hold him. At this thought, he runs his hand through it and turns his face toward me.

Ben appraises me, his eyes dancing with…fear? He rises from the chaise and stretches his arms out to me and I run into him. Fresh tears trickle down my face and I rub my face into his chest, needing to be closer to him.

“
Shh, my sweet girl,” he coos, his deep voice vibrating in his chest against my cheek.

“I’
m s-sorry.” My voice cracks and my lips tremble, threatening to turn quiet tears into vulgar sobs. I bite down on my bottom lip to distract my inner pain: the memory of a world-shattering loss.

He sinks to the chaise, pulling m
e onto his lap and cradles me. “Talk to me,” he bids.

I inhale long and hard, then exhale deeply, trying to gather my bearings, trying to stop my tears. Pushing away from him, I si
t facing him and it’s then that I see his face up close.

The look on his face,
in his bright, worried eyes, makes my heart constrict and once again, tears sting my eyes. I take another deep, steadying breath and then I speak.

“
You wanted to know how I knew Brandon Mayhew,” I begin. “It’s his brother I knew.” I pause, tears brimming.

I tilt my head back, closing my eyes, to try
to urge them back. I continue, “We dated for a year before he died.”

Ben rests his hand on mine and I
lift my big brown eyes up to meet his. He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, a squeeze that communicates
‘I’m sorry for your loss’
. A genuine ‘thank you’ smile curves my lips. He strokes my hands gently and with that I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that this man cares for me.

“
I should have gone with him that day,” I reveal. Ben’s hands still rest over mine and the blood drains from his face.

“
W-why didn’t you go?” Ben stutters, obviously shaken by what I’ve said.

“
I had an exam that day and I promised him that I’d take a later flight to join him,” I tell him, knitting my fingers together under his firm hand. “I was downstairs in this very apartment building when Brandon called me with the news. I fell to the floor instantly and sobbed until I blacked out.”

“
The song?” Ben asks.

“
I wrote it for him a few days before he died. I didn’t know he recorded it until I heard his phone ring with it one day after his funeral. I cried like a baby.” I squeeze my eyes shut as the lyrics to the song play in my head. I don’t want to cry.

“So…you sing?”

“Yes,” I answer, releasing the breath I’d been holding.

Ben runs a hand down my cheek, tilting my head up to meet his adoring green gaze. His face is warm and understanding.

“Well, you’re going to have to sing for me some day,” he says wryly and I can’t help but smile.

In such a sad and despondent moment, he can make me smile. I’m thankful that he’s so understanding.

“How do I make you forget?” His eyes are now piercing, serious.

I sit silent, mulling his words over. Sliding onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck, I kiss him gently then press my forehead to his.

“Make love to me,” I whisper. There’s only one other man I’ve ever asked that of, and he’s gone.

Can I allow another man to love me like that? Or will I suffer another loss if I let him in? Can I love Ben like that?

Scooping me into his arms, Ben whisks me to my room, where he takes me slow, deep…

And lovingly.

I wake up wrapped in a naked Ben, my very own live blanket. I had woken up a few hours earlier in a panic, frightened from slumber because of a dream I’d been having. Amidst all the chaos of voices and faceless faces in the dream, Ben stood out. He was staring at me with contempt. I lunged for him and he disappeared. Next I was on the floor, clutching his feet and begging him to stay; but he didn’t. He walked away from me without so much as a word. As he slammed the door closed on me, I jolted awake and immediately looked to my left to reassure myself that he was, indeed, next to me.