“I…don’t think…I can take any more.” She could barely speak around her gasping breaths.
“Yes, you can,” he said. “As punishment for coming without permission.”
She quaked. Fear licked through her. Was he serious? Her mind was awash in an erotic haze, her head sliding from side to side as she succumbed to the pleasure he was inflicting on her, her body shaking violently, the pleasure and pain mixing together until it was all one bright white mist of sensation. Explosions rocketed through her body one after another. She blinked, and her vision was spotty. She was going to pass out, her body at the breaking point. The pleasure consumed her.
“Chase,” she whispered, unable to do much else. He pulled the wand free, and it clicked off. Her feet were unbound quickly, and he pulled her still-shaking body onto his lap. Her eyelids fluttered, his face flickering in and out of focus.
“Shh, baby, I’ve got you.”
She nodded against his shoulder as he held her tight in his arms. “Just drift, sweetheart. I’m right here.”
Her eyes closed, and she slipped into a black haze while her body vibrated from the toes of her red shoes to the tips of her hair. She was vaguely aware of Chase’s hands on her body, but the sensation was dulled. As if she couldn’t process anything else. Was he undressing her? All she knew was she was warm, comforted, safe.
Chapter Seventeen
Chase cradled Liz’s naked body against him and carried her from the playroom. She still floated in that space between consciousness and unconscious. Son of a bitch. She’d told him she couldn’t take any more, and he’d pushed anyway. She’d given him an incredible gift, helping him focus and get his mind right when his world was falling apart. And how had he repaid her? By pushing her past her limits. She was barely aware of anything around her. Her eyes were dilated, her body still quivering.
He laid her gently on his bed and climbed in alongside her, holding her close. He cupped her cheek. “Liz. Sweetheart, can you hear me?”
“Mmm-hmmm.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, though he knew the answer. Of course she wasn’t okay. She couldn’t even open her eyes all the way. Damn him. What he wouldn’t give for one of her smart-ass retorts right now.
She nodded. Liar.
He shook her shoulders. “Sweetheart, open your eyes,” he cajoled.
She blinked them open. “Hmm?”
“Maintenance check?” The words were sour on his tongue. If he’d listened when she’d said enough, he wouldn’t have to ask.
“High as a kite. Now shut the fuck up and let me float.”
“Oh, thank God.”
She smiled weakly at him. He kissed her tenderly. An apology. She pushed at him with one floppy hand. “I said let me float, damn it.” She mustered a glare from somewhere. A weight lifted from his chest.
“Okay. All right, sweetheart.” He stroked her hair, and she snuggled into his embrace, closing her eyes. He kissed the top of her head as she drifted into full sleep. Continuing to soothe them both with caresses over her skin, he was overcome with relief. She slept soundly, not moving at all under his touch. Finally, his mind stilled, and he took a deep breath. “I think I am falling completely in love with you, Ms. Elizabeth Clark,” he whispered as he reached to shut off the light.
She shifted slightly, and he froze. Had she heard him? A soft snore escaped. Apparently not. For the time being, at least, it would remain his little secret.
He’d failed miserably at trying to keep her from worming her way into his heart. Whatever small defenses he’d still had in place had been sieged tonight. Now all he had to do was make her fall under his spell. Bind her to him in the next two weeks before she ran away, ripping out his heart and taking it with her in the process.
* * * *
In the morning, when he woke with her body snuggled tight against his and his arms cradling her protectively, possessively, Chase sighed. A man could get used to waking up like this. He savored the feel of her warm skin for a few minutes. She was still sound asleep. He thought about waking her, to check on her, but decided against it. It wasn’t fair to interrupt her rest to assure himself she was okay.
Guilt still swirled in his gut for taking out his anger and frustration on her after she’d been so amazing to him. Somehow he’d make it up to her today. He slowly extricated his body from hers and slipped from the bed. With one last glance at his sleeping angel, he turned and padded into the bathroom. He took a quick shower, shaved his five-o’clock shadow, and dressed. A peek into the bedroom told him she was still asleep, so he grabbed his phone and went downstairs. He put on his earpiece and called Dusty while he whipped around his kitchen, setting out eggs, bacon, flour, bananas, sugar, and vanilla extract on the island beside his cooktop.
“Hey, man,” Dusty’s tired voice grumbled in his ear.
“Jeez, dude. D’you get any sleep?”
“Mmm. Some,” he teased, his voice purring like a kitten.
Chase shuddered. “Ugh, do
not
want to know.” There were a lot of things they could talk about, and their general sexual preferences and techniques in the abstract were one thing. But the details of D’s night with his Master, Adam, were not something Chase needed to know.
Dusty chuckled. “Sorry, babe. You know I can’t stop myself sometimes.”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
He grew quiet, whisking eggs in a bowl. Keeping his hands busy while his mind roved over the events of the past twenty-four hours helped him stay at least mostly sane.
“How was the rest of your night?” Dusty asked.
Chase had almost forgotten he was on the phone, letting himself get caught up in cooking and his morose thoughts. “It was…interesting, to say the least.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it. We have to figure out what to do about the club.”
“Bah. Relationship problems are a lot easier for me to fix. C’mon. Spill.”
“You’re a real pain in the ass, do you know that?” Chase turned on the range to heat up the frying pans.
“Of course I do. Now stop stalling.”
“She kicked my ass.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” He tossed the bacon in the largest pan, and it sizzled. He turned down the heat and began whipping the ingredients together to make pancakes. “I kind of lost it at the club last night. She… Jesus, D, it was unreal. I told you she kind of slips in and out of subspace like it’s a switch in her head?”
“Yeah, the bitch.”
Chase laughed, knowing his friend didn’t mean it. “Well, apparently she can click right into the Mistress persona we glimpsed that first day she was in the club. I thought she was a visiting Domme you were bringing in for a tour at first. And now I know why.”
“What did she do?”
“Ordered me to calm the fuck down and get in the car.”
“And…?” Dusty asked, drawing out the word expectantly.
“And I did it. I did everything she told me to for the next hour, including letting her tie me down to the bed and have her way with me.”
“Holy shit. You switched.”
“Yeah,” he said, awe coloring his voice. He still couldn’t quite believe it himself. He’d never in his life had the desire to let someone else have control over anything in his life. He stirred the batter slowly, mixing the flour, sugar, eggs, milk, and vanilla together. He dropped butter onto the skillet and turned the bacon, then cut up bananas into the batter.
“You weren’t kidding before when you said you’d never bottomed to anyone, right?”
“Nah, man. Never ever. Until last night. And all of a sudden, it was like it didn’t matter that everything around me was going completely to shit, like…” He didn’t know what else.
“As long as she kept issuing orders and you only had to think about pleasing her, you could face whatever life threw at you?” Dusty supplied.
“Exactly.”
“That’s how I feel all the time. I know that together, Master and I can face
anything
. That he’ll be at my back or, hell, standing in front of me, protecting me from the blast.”
Chase poured the batter onto the pan in small circles, then reduced the heat and flipped the sizzling bacon again, taking a few minutes of silence to process.
“So, how’d you feel after?” Dusty asked.
“Incredible. And in need of payback.”
Dusty laughed. “So you didn’t let her keep the power very long?”
“No, guess not,” he whispered. Guilt gnawed at him. He flipped pancakes and poured the eggs into the last pan.
“What happened?”
“I pushed. I pushed way too far.” The words ripped through him, tearing up his insides.
“She safe-word out?”
Chase slammed his fist down on the counter. “I don’t think she could. She was so far gone. She tried to tell me she couldn’t take much more. I insisted she could.”
“What made you stop?”
“She could barely talk. When she whispered my name and I saw her eyes roll back, I knew she hadn’t been exaggerating. I should have known. She’s never docilely whispered she was reaching her breaking point. When she tells me she’s getting there, she
tells
me, usually in a very nonsubmissive way, and we ease down.”
“Damn. She was in deep. Did she pass out?”
“Pretty much.” He’d panicked, seeing her like that, knowing he’d selfishly pushed her too far, hurting her. Her needs had to come first. Always.
“Be prepared today for the subdrop. She’s liable to be overly emotional or have a mini breakdown. After a night like that, it’s not unexpected, actually,” Dusty warned.
“I know. I got her awake enough to respond, but then she was out again. Sound asleep.”
“You talk to her yet?”
“No, she’s still in bed. I’m cooking breakfast.” He removed the pancakes and put more on the griddle, stirred the eggs and bacon. They were almost done. He popped the finished pancakes in an insulated bowl to keep hot. His hands were shaking. “Damn it. What if I hadn’t stopped?” he said, his voice breaking, fear and tears clawing mercilessly at the back of his throat.
“You
did
stop. And you were right. I’m a big girl. I could take it.”
He whipped around, dropping the spatula to the floor. Liz, wearing one of his gray T-shirts and nothing else, stood at the base of the stairs. He froze as she prowled across the kitchen. She plucked the earpiece from his ear. “Good-bye, Dusty,” she said and clicked it off.
His heart stopped.
She wound her arms around his neck, her long fingers playing with the back of his hair, and she yanked his head down to hers for a scorching kiss. He cupped her ass and lifted. She jumped into his arms, locking her ankles around his hips and kissing him until he was breathless, desperate for air. Finally, she lifted her head, panting.
Her eyes were clear, and a naughty smile curved her lips. “I’m going to say this once and
only
once. So listen up.”
He nodded.
“Last night was…intense. Overwhelming, crazy, and a little out of control.”
“I know I—”
“Shut. The fuck. Up.”
He closed his mouth.
She cupped the side of his face with one hand, running her thumb back and forth over his tingling lips. “You told me you were going to push and keep pushing until we reached a wall, and then you were going to push me right into it. And you have. Every day is something exciting and new and terrifying, and every time when I’ve called enough, you’ve let it stand, let me stop us when we’re butting up against that wall. Last night, you didn’t give in. You shoved me through that wall and were waiting to catch me on the other side. It was… Well, maybe it was a bit of a rough landing. But that’s okay.
I’m
okay. I’m sore as hell, actually, but it feels wonderful, okay?
“I
love
that you pushed me so far past my breaking point that I shattered into a zillion pieces. And then you held me tight and helped me put myself back together again. I have never in my life had a high like that. And the fact that I want, even just a little bit, to do it again tonight is crazy. I know that. I fully acknowledge it. But it doesn’t mean the desire isn’t there. I said I didn’t
think
I could take it. I never said
no
or
stop
or anything like that. I got sort of unconscious for a minute last night, that’s all. It happens.” Her voice was gentle, and she caressed his face almost lovingly. Then her voice hardened, and she finished her speech with, “So get the fuck over yourself. And put me down. You’re burning breakfast.”
He laughed and kissed her. She moaned into his mouth, arching her back, and then hissed, stiffening. He lifted his head and set her on her feet.
“How sore?” he asked, reaching behind him to shut off the burners.
She shrugged. “I’ll live. Finish breakfast. I’ll be back in a minute.” She turned and walked across the kitchen and back up the stairs, only the slightest hesitation in her step. He couldn’t help but grin. She didn’t hate him. In fact, he distinctly remembered in her rant that the L word had come up. His heart soared.
He turned his attention back to the food, trying to salvage the meal. He flipped the half-cooked pancakes and turned that burner back on low. The bacon was crispy but not burned, and the eggs were still okay. He set the food out on plates and carried them to the table, then shut off the pancakes and tossed them in the insulated bowl. As he was pouring orange juice into two glasses, Liz walked back into the room, carrying his e-reader. She set it on the table and slid onto the bench seat. He sat across from her in one of the wooden chairs.
“Oh, yum. I’m starved.” She grabbed her fork and dug in. He watched her eat for a minute before picking up his own silverware. “So do you tell Dusty
everything
?” she asked between bites.
Shit. “Not everything, per se. But the big stuff, the important stuff. Or when I really screw something up and need his advice. He’s good at that.”
“He’s your best friend. I get it. Really. I’m not upset; I just want to know how much I should blush when I see him next,” she said, shaking her head and turning pink.
She kept eating, and he loved watching her mouth and throat move. Every damned thing she did seemed to make him hot under the collar. “So how much of that conversation did you hear?” At least he hadn’t been on speakerphone so she heard Dusty’s side of the convo as well.