Comforting Touch (Touch #5) (7 page)

Guess I've been too busy focusing on Rio.

Oops?

"That’s what I thought." He catches my attention again, and unless I've got my wires crossed, he's incredibly pleased. But I'm clueless as to why. "Keep sucking, my little slave."

All my focus is on him, and I obey immediately. I lose myself in the moment, getting drunk on the pleasure I give him. Every time he tenses and curses and breathes faster and loses his composure, my insides turn liquid with warmth and satisfaction.

After a while though, I can sense a change in his mood. I look up at him to see a pensive expression, and then he gently halts Dylan's hands on his shoulders. Right after, Rio stills my movements as well, and I ease away to see what's wrong.

I think it's Dylan. He looks a little lost.

Rio speaks to him, too quietly for me to hear, and a minute later, he gets up and talks privately to Master Hill. Moving up on the sofa again, I touch Dylan's arm to get his attention.

"Are you okay?" I whisper.

He shrugs. Almost dejectedly. "Guess so." He averts his eyes.

Hmm. I know he's like Kayla; they both regress or whatever they call it. Not only do they act younger with their Daddy Doms, but they
feel
younger. Though, I think I remember Kayla telling me Dylan doesn’t revert as much as she does. He's a…Middle? And Kayla's a Little. Or something like that.

Regardless, it makes me wary of how to approach Dylan. I don’t know what he needs—not if he's in that mind-set right now.

"Do you miss your Daddy?" I decide to go with comfort and understanding; I can't go wrong with that, right? I weave my fingers through his hair and scoot closer.

He closes his eyes and tilts his face so I palm his cheek. "I shouldn’t," he mumbles. "He's not mine."

Damn Cade! I don’t even know the man, but whatever they're going through, they should fix things before Dylan's heart gets broken.
Easier said than done
. Ain't that the truth. With a wistful sigh, I hug Dylan close to me and peer over at Rio, who's walked over to Miranda with Master Hill.

"I think I found out what happened to the Miranda girl, by the way." Dylan speaks under his breath and discreetly wipes his cheeks.
Poor kid
. Who…is most likely my own age.
Whatevs
. "I heard it from those two over there." He nods at two male subs across the patio. "Apparently Miranda stole money from the register at Switch last week. Like, a hundred bucks or something, and Liam caught her and handed her over to Mr. Ford and Master Kelly."

Shit, double shit, triple shit
.

My spine stiffens. Given my past, Rio's reaction to Miranda's crime suddenly makes all the difference. I need to know his take on things and whether or not he's acting appalled by Miranda as part of her punishment or if it runs deeper.

"I presume Miranda's sorry since she's still here," I murmur.

"I don’t know." Dylan doesn’t appear to care about it. "Makes sense they're calling her a thief now, though."

Yeah…

"Isn't this where you should be all, 'Oh my God, she stole? What a bitch!'" He fails at sounding like a girl.

I give him a wry look and point to my shoulder. "Isn't this where you cry on me and call out for your Daddy?"

"Ouch." He both grins and winces. "You don’t play nice."

Never said I did, although I'm a whole lot nicer now than when I was a teenager. We all have our pasts, and mine happens to be dirtier than most. I refuse to be ashamed of it, but that doesn’t mean I'm proud of it, either. It just is. And if Rio has issues with that…

"We all make mistakes, and we don’t know Miranda's story," I settle for saying.

Doesn’t mean I like that she's Rio's slave, but whatever.

Dylan nods quickly, his eyes trained on something—someone—behind me, and I turn to see Rio heading our way again.

"You know that Cade is working tonight, right?" Rio asks Dylan.

"Yes, Dominus." Dylan stares at his lap. "I don’t wanna leave—it's just…"

He doesn’t feel like playing, I suppose.

"I get it." Rio shows a ghost of a smile and extends his hand. "Come on, then. I think I know what to do with you. Chelsea, you're coming, too."

Chapter 7

We follow Rio into the house and up the stairs, down a hallway that doesn’t look anything like the basement. Dark wood doors, light green walls, carpeted floor, and countless pictures of family, friends, beautiful landscapes, and patients. I assume some of them are patients, anyway. One looks like it was taken in a jungle, and Rio is surrounded by children. Another photo is of a little boy who bumps his fist with Rio's. The boy is holding a lollipop and is positively beaming. Rio looks just as happy.

He's not only a Dom. Or a doctor. He's changed lives. He has amazing friends. He's part of a loving family, which I should know considering how much I've stalked him on Facebook over the years.

Groan
. How can I ever admit that? It'll be so damn embarrassing.

I smile to myself when I see a photo of Rio, Nicholas, Mark, and Cade, all wearing different sports jerseys but the same drunken grins.

"Here we go." Rio opens a door that leads to a room I can only describe as a
man cave
.

"Holy crap," Dylan whispers in awe.

Rio chuckles and leans against the doorway as Dylan enters and eye-fucks the arcade games, the entertainment center, the gigantic, cushy chairs, the bar, the speakers set up here and there.
Christ on a fucking cracker
. On the table in front of the chairs there are no fewer than seven remote controls. On the walls, there are shelves upon shelves with DVDs, video games, and CDs. Cabinets filled with collectibles, comic books—friggin'
comic
books? Heh. Who knew Rio was a nerd.

It kinda makes me like him even more. Combined with the photos in the hallway…
girly sigh
.

Rio pulls me close, causing me to squeak then giggle, and I peer up at his face. God, his smile is gorgeous.

"Do you think you can spend a few hours here, Dylan?" Rio murmurs, though he never looks away from me. He's warm, so I snuggle closer. Dylan's
"Hell yes"
makes Rio grin. "Good. Go nuts. Chelsea and I will be down the hall if you need anything. But…knock first."

I swallow a needy noise that would no doubt sound like
"Hnnngh."
Not very flattering.

"Come on, little rebel." Rio gives my chin a sharp nip. Then he releases me and slaps my butt. "We're going to my bedroom."

Yes, please, and thank you.

I shoot Dylan a smirk over my shoulder, but he's preoccupied with the remote controls.

Two doors down is Rio's bedroom, and I shiver just walking inside. Like the hallway, it's decorated in warm colors, and there are more photographs of family members and friends. I recognize his brother in one of them; they look so much alike that it's scary. From Facebook, I know his name is Gabriel.

As my gaze lands on the large four-poster bed, butterflies kick in and I get nervous. This doesn’t feel like a part of the play party downstairs, but I'm probably wrong. I gotta be careful and not let my crush do the talking.

"So this is where the magic happens, huh?" I don’t know why I had to fill the silence. Firstly, I haven't gotten permission to open my mouth, and, secondly, I don’t want his reply to my question. I chuckle awkwardly and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Dominus."

"Master Rio," he corrects quietly from behind me. No more Roman games, then? I shudder, feeling a hand trail up my spine. His warm breath along my shoulder. Then a featherlight kiss. "I'm giving you one out, Chelsea. Otherwise you're mine for the next few hours, and we won't be leaving this room."

"No out." I bite my lip to keep a gasp bottled up inside. "I want this, Sir."

"Perfect. Undress me."

I turn and grasp the hem of his costume, swiftly getting it over his head. Well, sorta swiftly. I may not be all that short, but Rio's a skyscraper.

This is only fair, too. I've been naked the entire evening. It's about time I get to see every inch of Rio Kelly. And hot fucking
damn
, what a sight. The fabric falls to the floor, leaving him in absolutely nothing else, and I…gawk. I gawk at his imperfectly perfect body. Black hair mixing with a hint of silver, flawless skin marred by a few scars and birthmarks, strength from a healthy lifestyle mingling with the fact that his life's been filled with danger, too. The years he's spent in third-world countries whisper of stories on his body.

"You're not favoring your left leg," I note softly. I close in and touch him reverently, curious about the scar that runs along his upper thigh. When I reach his hip, I catch sight of his hand. Another scar. From a burn? Looks like it. "What did you do here?"

He opens his hand and shows the faint line across his palm. "Somalia. We were pulling crates of supplies up a cliff." He chuckles wryly under his breath. "Rope burns."

"No gloves?" Silly Dom.

"No time." His humor is gone now, and I see something haunting in his eyes. The green dims, perhaps an unpleasant memory taking over. "My one and only run-in with actual pirates."

"What the fuck?" My eyes grow wide.

He inclines his head. "Big money in medical supplies. We made it out of there alive, though." He taps my nose. "And we can save the rest for another time." Next, he points down. "Should my clothes be on the floor?"

Shit, double shit, triple shit
. "I'm sorry, Master Rio." I'm an idiot. This isn't some romantic let's-get-to-know-each-other rendezvous. It's a scene. Playtime. Nothing lovey-dovey. "Where would you like them?" I pick up the clothes and keep my gaze lowered.

"On the chair over there, please." He lifts a hand in the direction of the corner nearest the large window wall overlooking the street. I hadn't even noticed it until now, and it makes me hesitate. Which Rio evidently sees. "We can see out, but nobody can see in."

Phew
. I'm all for a little exhibitionism, but I like being prepared.

Once I've hung his costume over the chair, Rio tells me to clear the bed then lie down on my stomach and wait for his return.

"Oh—" He pauses in the doorway. "Arms and legs spread."

Then it's just me.

I release a shaky breath and get crackin', removing the bedspread. The dark blue blanket follows, revealing pristine, white sheets and fluffy pillows. I push them up against the headboard, then get on the bed and into position. Facedown, arms and legs spread.

I hope I don’t get fake henna on his sheets.

My temporary tattoo is still perfect, but who knows what Rio has planned. He could have me sweating buckets and ruining the ink in no time.

"Fuck, you're beautiful, Chelsea."

Just like that, the temperature goes up a hundred degrees. I hear his feet pad closer on the hardwood floor, and then feel the bed dip with his weight, and, finally, he covers my body with his.

My bones turn liquid.

His large hands roam my back and sides as he kisses my shoulders and neck. I love his weight on me, pressing me into the mattress. Caged by his warmth, by his sexy body, all I can do is take whatever he gives.

"We're going to have a few rules." He shifts my hair to the side and nips at my neck. "You're familiar with speech restrictions, yes?"

"Yes, Sir." I let out a moan as one of his hands slides underneath me and cups my pussy. I try to push up my ass, but he responds by pressing his cock harder against me. It's nestled so perfectly between my butt cheeks, but I want more. I want him inside. Now, now, now.

"Excellent. Only three words are acceptable—not counting your safewords." He eases away, and I hear him rustling with something. A bag? "The words are 'yes,' 'Master,' and 'please.' Understood?"

"Yes, Master." A thousand times yes. Then a buzzing sound has my attention, and soon I feel a vibrator being positioned to my clit.
Fuck!
I suck in a breath, almost cursing out loud. But damn, he put that on high. The vibrations ignite me and make me wanna squirm like crazy.

"Good girl." After that, he's quiet for a while as he ties me to the bed. Silk ties for my ankles and wrists. Lastly, a blindfold. "Lie still. Just. Like. That. Bloody gorgeous."

I bite down hard on my lip. Behind the blindfold, I screw my eyes shut tightly, and I grab on to the ties that restrain me. The buzzing is just so fucking powerful, and after a whole evening of merciless teasing, I could come in a few seconds.

Rio gets behind me once more and this time encourages me to lift my ass off the mattress. Other than a brief sound of crinkling foil, there's no warning. He inches forward, and then he pushes his cock deep inside me in one smooth stroke.

Oh my God
. I mouth the words in a silent scream, the pleasure exploding behind my closed lids like its own little orgasm.

"Christ," he grits out.

I stifle cries, sure I've never felt this contained. Bound by him, fucked by him, surrounded and covered by him.
Him
…the man I've crushed on since I was basically a kid.

"
Master
," I whimper.

"Fucking finally." Rio shudders on top of me and splays a hand between me and the bed. "God, I've waited…"
Waited?
Forcing himself deeper into my pussy, he stretches me and grinds me harder against the vibrator. All of it, what he's doing, is enough to turn my brain into mush. "Incredible." With a kiss to my neck, he begins to move in slow but firm thrusts. "You're allowed to come as many times as you want, but—" He pauses to catch his breath. "But I'm not sure you'll be able to in a little bit." That last word is followed by his teeth sinking into my neck and his free hand fisting my hair. He tugs me back harshly, causing me to arch and tighten my grip on the ties.

Pain sears through me, and I can't help but cry out. It's the weirdest thing, loving pain and getting a sense of euphoria from it. It's exactly what happens; tears well up in my eyes, and while my mind wants to fight it, my body craves it. My pulse skyrockets, my heart drums rapidly, and my breathing becomes shallow.

"Please," I moan, writhing beneath him. "Please!"

He mutters a curse and rises to kneel behind me. He pulls me with him too, and my wrists ache from the straining ties and my need to support myself on the mattress. Just thinking about the possibility of wearing marks tomorrow has me quivering.

"I want to test you, pet." He grunts and fucks me harder. "I've been told you like pain. Which…" A dark chuckle escapes him. "Fuck, the things I wanna do."

"Yesss," I hiss. Every thrust he gives me, I try to push back just as much. He turns me into this greedy little slut. "
Please
, Master."

Another curse, and he stops. For several seconds, all I hear is our labored breathing and the toy.

"I need to see you." He reaches over me and quickly unties my restraints, then removes the blindfold. Like a rag doll, I'm tossed around so I'm on my back, and then I have him slamming inside me again.

The shock of the sudden movements makes me forget the rules, and I let out a hoarse wail. "Jesus fuck!"

For some reason, Rio grins. "And now I have an excuse to hurt you even more."

Oh, my fucking
God
.

"Don’t worry." With a grip on my jaw, he gives me a hard kiss, then brushes the pad of his thumb over my lip and smirks down at me. "Just this once, I'm going to allow you to enjoy a punishment."

I'm by no means a brat—usually—but I find myself triggered by that smirky smirk. So I mirror it in a teasing way and bite his thumb.

He hisses and yanks it away, only to laugh and kiss me again. "My beautiful little whore," he murmurs. "You're gonna regret that."

I gulp as he backs away and twirls a finger.

"Get on all fours again."

I obey and face forward, even though I'm dying to find out what he's looking for in his toy bag. The vibrator is switched off, and he replaces it with a tiny one that comes with an actual clip.
Oh, motherfucker
. It hurts like a son of a bitch when he attaches it to my clit, but the pain mingles with the relief of pleasure.

What follows next is a session of torture and mind-blowing ecstasy. I lose track of time as he spanks me, fucks me, flogs me, and twists a plug inside my ass.

I'm a sobbing mess who has lost count of the orgasms, as well.

Wearing his marks tomorrow isn't only a possibility anymore, but a certainty.

"Color?" he asks for the umpteenth time, panting.

"Gr-green," I mumble, feeling as if I'm spacing out a bit. "So green, Master." Every inch of me is burning. My skin is alive, pulsing and aching.

When he removes the plug, I wonder which implement is next, and I get my answer when he brushes the flat wooden surface of a paddle along my back.

"Your ass is such a lovely shade of red right now." He hums. "A little bit of purple here, too."

Without warning, the paddle comes down with a resounding smack on my left butt cheek. I let out a powerless wail, only to scream and clutch the sheets impossibly tighter when he rams two fingers inside my pussy. Combined with the buzzing vibrator on my clit, I'm pushed toward another orgasm.