This is Who I Am
Page 14
His laugh was a rumbled chuckle before he kissed her. Oh, she remembered his lips. Firm and knowledgeable, but more gentle this time. As if he’d let her decide how fast and how far they’d go.
“Condoms?” he asked.
She rolled away, grabbed a packet from the bedside table, and returned to his arms before she lost her nerve.
As he pulled the condom from her clenched fingers, the war started inside her. How could she have asked him for sex? That was disgusting. Sleazy. Bad. She was bad.
When he kissed her, her body stiffened. He lifted his head, his lips an inch from hers. “Talk to me.”
I want this. I don’t. I shouldn’t. “I don’t want to…decide.” She felt wrong. Dirty. Wanting to have sex was—
His eyes narrowed, and then he gripped her hair, holding her head immobile as he took her lips. Not cruelly, not like…them. Them. The slavers. Like an avalanche, memories swept over her, flattening her.
A nasty pinch on her thigh made her jerk. “Stay with me, girl.” His growling voice was like sandpaper, scraping away the horrors, digging down to where her nerves were alive. “Say my name.”
His unyielding expression set up a trembling in her belly that had nothing to do with fear. “Sam.”
“Again.” His left arm around her waist tightened as he closed his other hand on her breast. Cupping, kneading, tugging. His penetrating gaze stayed on her face, and his fingers closed on her nipple. And pinched…
When the pressure turned to pain, sensation streamed in a wave of light and heat straight to her core. “Sam.”
His lips curved in a ruthless smile. “Good that you respond to the reins.” His hand moved to her other breast, no longer gentle but demanding. Yet…careful. Never with the careless brutality that the Overseer— “Ow!” Her hip stung where he’d given it a mean pinch.
“When I want you to think, I’ll tell you.” And how could such an arrogant statement make her stomach drop? He took her lips again, and at the same time she felt him untying the lacing at the top of her nightgown, pushing it to her waist in a whisper of cool silk. His hand returned to her bare breasts. Calloused, abrasive…warm.
“I look forward to using clamps on these,” he whispered in her ear, tugging and pinching. “They’ll hurt like this.” His fingernail dug into the tender flesh until she gasped at the burning pain. He bit her shoulder, adding a new sting to the ones bombarding her body.
Too much. One of the guards had… When they’d all… Hands and agony and… She shoved away frantically, gasping for air.
He released her immediately. But before she could escape, he gripped her shoulders and gave her a firm shake. “Look at me, girl.”
That growl—it haunted her dreams and chased away nightmares. Her eyes popped open and met the blue fire of his. “Sam.”
“That’s right.”
She was trembling hard enough to shake the bed as he sat up next to her. He gripped her, anchoring her with firmness, the levelness of his gaze holding her in safety.
Her heart rate slowed. “I’m sorry.”
The sun lines around his eyes deepened. “You can control your body only so far. Stupid to blame anyone for a physical reaction.”
And no matter how gruff his language, Sam was very far from a stupid person. But she felt dumb. “Why was it easier? At the auction.”
Holding her shoulder with one hand, he ran his fingers through her hair, tugging slightly. “More than one reason. In a room of scumbags, Kim sent me to you. Right?”
She remembered the sense of relief when she’d seen Kim nod her approval at Sam. She’d figured Kim knew something she didn’t. “And you didn’t see me as a slave.” The realization had been overwhelming. He’d seen a person, not an animal. After checking her restraints, he’d looked into her eyes. “You still with me here, Linda?” He’d even used her name.
“You trusted me, no matter how little.” He continued playing with her hair. “But you were scared, and then I hurt you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Fight-or-flight revs up the nerves. So does pain. Means you felt more than normal. So after I’d whipped you, you were loaded with endorphins and in subspace. Turned your head right off.” He cupped her face. “Baby, once you gave me your trust, you were a peach ready to be plucked, and there was nothing you could do about it.”
“Oh.” The explanation helped. “I still shouldn’t have…” She still felt guilty for coming. Felt dirty.
“Do your eyes tear up when you peel an onion?”
“Huh?” What the heck? “Yes.”
“That’s your nerves reacting to chemicals. If you tell yourself not to cry when peeling onions, does that work?”
“No,” she whispered. Nerves and chemicals. A person couldn’t control those. She hadn’t had a chance. The guilt of that orgasm wafted away along with the last of her anger at his actions.
“That’s better.” As he rubbed his cheek against hers, the rough stubble scraped her skin and sent a shiver through her. “But enough warnings. You think about anything but here and now, I’ll spank you.”
His bare hand would slap her bottom. He’d hurt her and… A shiver of need ran up her spine.
He laughed, actually laughed. “Why wait?” He rose. Grasping her around the waist, he pulled her out of the covers and bent her over the side of the bed.
“Sam!” Her face against the quilt muffled the words.
“Good. You remember my name.” His hand gripped her nape, holding her down as he lifted her gown. Cool air washed over her skin. He rubbed her cheeks, massaged them. Touching her. “You have a beautiful ass. Just right.”
With the first light spanks, blood felt as if it detoured from her heart straight to her clit.
He hit harder. Stinging increased into pain, and then he started to seriously spank her. Hard and even. Slap, slap, slap. It hurt. Tears filled her eyes, and her fingers fisted in the quilt. And then, within one breath and another, the magic happened. As each smack flowed inward, it transformed into glittering pleasure.
He stopped to rub her skin. The joy of his touch sheeted through her, deeper even than the throbbing of her bottom. As his fingers explored the wetness on her inner thighs, he growled in approval, erasing the ugly guilt inside her before it took hold.
Tortuously, he traced a finger over her labia and up to circle her clit, sending a burst of need through her.
“Wait,” she whispered, trying to stand.
“No, missy. You don’t run from pain…or desire.”
Her breathing sped up. He didn’t stop. Holding her in place, he continued touching her so very intimately. When he rolled her clit between his fingers, her whole body shook as the sensation blasted outward, burning past the last barrier. She moaned into the bedding.
“There’s a good girl.” His finger swirled her entrance before rubbing each side of her swollen nub and around the top in an inflexible, relentless pattern: side, side, top, side, side, top, until each sensitized part anticipated his touch. Pressure grew inside her as with every new cycle, he pressed harder, longer.
Her bottom arched up; her legs trembled. More. More. Don’t stop.
He paused, his fingertip resting right on the very top of her clit.
Her breathing stopped, everything stopped, frozen right there at the edge. A high whine escaped.
His fingers tightened on her nape as if to remind her of his hold and to induce the rush of knowing she had no control. Then his finger moved: side, side, and on the top of her clit, it remained, hard and fast and merciless, rubbing over and over.
Everything inside her coalesced for one unending heartbeat…and the ball of sensation ignited. Brilliant pleasure seared outward through every cell in her body. Oh God…
Her hips were bucking, her fingernails tingling, and dear heavens, he started spanking her again, harder and faster. Another orgasm hit right on the tails of the first, plummeting her back into the joyous maelstrom.
Every slap on her bottom felt amazing, a flaring splendor. His powerful hand held her pinned, making her take everything he did.
Then he slid his hand between her legs and pushed two fingers up inside her.
Inside. They had—they had— Panic ripped through her, and she struggled.
“Linda.” He pulled out, and his hand hit her bottom. Hard. The fiery blast shook her body. “Say my name.”
“S-Sam.” Sam. Clenching the blankets, she gasped and found the world held air.
“Better.” His fingers entered her again, sliding easily. Shivers ran through her at his determined assault…and the swelling pleasure. As he set up a merciless rhythm, arousal spiraled up in her again.
He pulled out long enough to spank her more. As each sharply hot impact resounded deep in her core, her need twined and coiled into a thick ball of pressure. When his fingers thrust inside her again, slamming in so unexpectedly, the searing tension exploded into wave upon wave of sensation.
Gradually, he slowed, bringing her down, and she could feel how her insides clenched his thick fingers, trying to hold him in.
“God,” she muttered and heard him laugh. Her thumping heart began to slow. She rolled her face against the quilt, almost appalled at the wonderful feeling inside her.
“Condoms?” he asked.
She rolled away, grabbed a packet from the bedside table, and returned to his arms before she lost her nerve.
As he pulled the condom from her clenched fingers, the war started inside her. How could she have asked him for sex? That was disgusting. Sleazy. Bad. She was bad.
When he kissed her, her body stiffened. He lifted his head, his lips an inch from hers. “Talk to me.”
I want this. I don’t. I shouldn’t. “I don’t want to…decide.” She felt wrong. Dirty. Wanting to have sex was—
His eyes narrowed, and then he gripped her hair, holding her head immobile as he took her lips. Not cruelly, not like…them. Them. The slavers. Like an avalanche, memories swept over her, flattening her.
A nasty pinch on her thigh made her jerk. “Stay with me, girl.” His growling voice was like sandpaper, scraping away the horrors, digging down to where her nerves were alive. “Say my name.”
His unyielding expression set up a trembling in her belly that had nothing to do with fear. “Sam.”
“Again.” His left arm around her waist tightened as he closed his other hand on her breast. Cupping, kneading, tugging. His penetrating gaze stayed on her face, and his fingers closed on her nipple. And pinched…
When the pressure turned to pain, sensation streamed in a wave of light and heat straight to her core. “Sam.”
His lips curved in a ruthless smile. “Good that you respond to the reins.” His hand moved to her other breast, no longer gentle but demanding. Yet…careful. Never with the careless brutality that the Overseer— “Ow!” Her hip stung where he’d given it a mean pinch.
“When I want you to think, I’ll tell you.” And how could such an arrogant statement make her stomach drop? He took her lips again, and at the same time she felt him untying the lacing at the top of her nightgown, pushing it to her waist in a whisper of cool silk. His hand returned to her bare breasts. Calloused, abrasive…warm.
“I look forward to using clamps on these,” he whispered in her ear, tugging and pinching. “They’ll hurt like this.” His fingernail dug into the tender flesh until she gasped at the burning pain. He bit her shoulder, adding a new sting to the ones bombarding her body.
Too much. One of the guards had… When they’d all… Hands and agony and… She shoved away frantically, gasping for air.
He released her immediately. But before she could escape, he gripped her shoulders and gave her a firm shake. “Look at me, girl.”
That growl—it haunted her dreams and chased away nightmares. Her eyes popped open and met the blue fire of his. “Sam.”
“That’s right.”
She was trembling hard enough to shake the bed as he sat up next to her. He gripped her, anchoring her with firmness, the levelness of his gaze holding her in safety.
Her heart rate slowed. “I’m sorry.”
The sun lines around his eyes deepened. “You can control your body only so far. Stupid to blame anyone for a physical reaction.”
And no matter how gruff his language, Sam was very far from a stupid person. But she felt dumb. “Why was it easier? At the auction.”
Holding her shoulder with one hand, he ran his fingers through her hair, tugging slightly. “More than one reason. In a room of scumbags, Kim sent me to you. Right?”
She remembered the sense of relief when she’d seen Kim nod her approval at Sam. She’d figured Kim knew something she didn’t. “And you didn’t see me as a slave.” The realization had been overwhelming. He’d seen a person, not an animal. After checking her restraints, he’d looked into her eyes. “You still with me here, Linda?” He’d even used her name.
“You trusted me, no matter how little.” He continued playing with her hair. “But you were scared, and then I hurt you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Fight-or-flight revs up the nerves. So does pain. Means you felt more than normal. So after I’d whipped you, you were loaded with endorphins and in subspace. Turned your head right off.” He cupped her face. “Baby, once you gave me your trust, you were a peach ready to be plucked, and there was nothing you could do about it.”
“Oh.” The explanation helped. “I still shouldn’t have…” She still felt guilty for coming. Felt dirty.
“Do your eyes tear up when you peel an onion?”
“Huh?” What the heck? “Yes.”
“That’s your nerves reacting to chemicals. If you tell yourself not to cry when peeling onions, does that work?”
“No,” she whispered. Nerves and chemicals. A person couldn’t control those. She hadn’t had a chance. The guilt of that orgasm wafted away along with the last of her anger at his actions.
“That’s better.” As he rubbed his cheek against hers, the rough stubble scraped her skin and sent a shiver through her. “But enough warnings. You think about anything but here and now, I’ll spank you.”
His bare hand would slap her bottom. He’d hurt her and… A shiver of need ran up her spine.
He laughed, actually laughed. “Why wait?” He rose. Grasping her around the waist, he pulled her out of the covers and bent her over the side of the bed.
“Sam!” Her face against the quilt muffled the words.
“Good. You remember my name.” His hand gripped her nape, holding her down as he lifted her gown. Cool air washed over her skin. He rubbed her cheeks, massaged them. Touching her. “You have a beautiful ass. Just right.”
With the first light spanks, blood felt as if it detoured from her heart straight to her clit.
He hit harder. Stinging increased into pain, and then he started to seriously spank her. Hard and even. Slap, slap, slap. It hurt. Tears filled her eyes, and her fingers fisted in the quilt. And then, within one breath and another, the magic happened. As each smack flowed inward, it transformed into glittering pleasure.
He stopped to rub her skin. The joy of his touch sheeted through her, deeper even than the throbbing of her bottom. As his fingers explored the wetness on her inner thighs, he growled in approval, erasing the ugly guilt inside her before it took hold.
Tortuously, he traced a finger over her labia and up to circle her clit, sending a burst of need through her.
“Wait,” she whispered, trying to stand.
“No, missy. You don’t run from pain…or desire.”
Her breathing sped up. He didn’t stop. Holding her in place, he continued touching her so very intimately. When he rolled her clit between his fingers, her whole body shook as the sensation blasted outward, burning past the last barrier. She moaned into the bedding.
“There’s a good girl.” His finger swirled her entrance before rubbing each side of her swollen nub and around the top in an inflexible, relentless pattern: side, side, top, side, side, top, until each sensitized part anticipated his touch. Pressure grew inside her as with every new cycle, he pressed harder, longer.
Her bottom arched up; her legs trembled. More. More. Don’t stop.
He paused, his fingertip resting right on the very top of her clit.
Her breathing stopped, everything stopped, frozen right there at the edge. A high whine escaped.
His fingers tightened on her nape as if to remind her of his hold and to induce the rush of knowing she had no control. Then his finger moved: side, side, and on the top of her clit, it remained, hard and fast and merciless, rubbing over and over.
Everything inside her coalesced for one unending heartbeat…and the ball of sensation ignited. Brilliant pleasure seared outward through every cell in her body. Oh God…
Her hips were bucking, her fingernails tingling, and dear heavens, he started spanking her again, harder and faster. Another orgasm hit right on the tails of the first, plummeting her back into the joyous maelstrom.
Every slap on her bottom felt amazing, a flaring splendor. His powerful hand held her pinned, making her take everything he did.
Then he slid his hand between her legs and pushed two fingers up inside her.
Inside. They had—they had— Panic ripped through her, and she struggled.
“Linda.” He pulled out, and his hand hit her bottom. Hard. The fiery blast shook her body. “Say my name.”
“S-Sam.” Sam. Clenching the blankets, she gasped and found the world held air.
“Better.” His fingers entered her again, sliding easily. Shivers ran through her at his determined assault…and the swelling pleasure. As he set up a merciless rhythm, arousal spiraled up in her again.
He pulled out long enough to spank her more. As each sharply hot impact resounded deep in her core, her need twined and coiled into a thick ball of pressure. When his fingers thrust inside her again, slamming in so unexpectedly, the searing tension exploded into wave upon wave of sensation.
Gradually, he slowed, bringing her down, and she could feel how her insides clenched his thick fingers, trying to hold him in.
“God,” she muttered and heard him laugh. Her thumping heart began to slow. She rolled her face against the quilt, almost appalled at the wonderful feeling inside her.
