DutyBoundARe (29 page)

Read DutyBoundARe Online

Authors: Sidney Bristol

Tags: #Duty, #Bound, #Bayou, #Bound

BOOK: DutyBoundARe
11.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Lissy,” Mathieu said directly behind her.

She jumped and hated herself for the thread of fear that had her trembling.

Mathieu wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, his cheek against her head and his body shielding hers.

“I was called in this morning to tell my sergeant about Seth. I told him everything. All of it. He’s pissed at me. I’m off the case and taking a little leave until it’s cleared up. It was either that or be suspended, but I don’t think he wanted to deal with that. He’s got two serials at the same time. Department’s stretched thin.”

“Wait—what? Two serials? What does that mean?” She turned in his arms and peered up at him.

Mathieu’s lips were tightly compressed. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Well now you have.”

He sighed. “I labeled Seth a serial.”

“A serial what?”

“A serial killer. He has the same MO with each kill. He strangles young women to death, leaves them to be found posed on their back.”

Snatches of memory, bits of Seth doing just that to her. She shook her head, banishing the dark thoughts by sheer will. That was the past. She was growing beyond that.

“And the second?”

“There’s someone, a man or maybe a man and woman team, snatching teenagers. We have disappearances, but no bodies. The PD has been quiet about it because we don’t want to upset people, but…”

“Did someone else get taken?”

“Yeah, yesterday two kids, a brother and sister, got taken. It’s an escalation. That’s why Rouge couldn’t call me back yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” She felt like a broken record, but there were too many pieces at once.

“I found something Seth left for me at the scene of another victim. It was a silver bracelet he wore—”

Lisette gasped. “Hunt or be hunted. I made that for him. He used to say that, but it was always about, you know, hunting animals. Not people. Oh my gosh. This is all so terrible.”

“They’re going to bring Seth in today, find him, ask him some questions.”

She shook her head. This had happened before and it was swept under the rug, nothing said, no slap on the wrist, just gone. “I need to leave.”

“No.” Mathieu grasped her by the shoulders and held her in place. “I’m here. Patrol will drive by regularly and check in with me. I’ll make it happen. Nothing is going to happen, do you understand me?”

“You can’t say that for sure. What if Seth hurts you? Or Creature? Odalia? I’m not willing to risk that.”

“But you were willing to risk it before.”

“That was before I knew Seth was here.” Tears leaked out of her eyes, dampening her cheeks.

Mathieu gathered her close, squeezing her. “I can’t let you leave. I can’t know you’re out there, by yourself.”

She wasn’t distraught enough to miss the way his voice trembled and how he squeezed her tight. They were friends and lovers, nothing more. Or were they?

 

 

chapter Nineteen

Valentine

Seth fidgeted with a pencil left on the desk. He could feel eyes on him, knew he was being watched by officers through the one-way glass. Were he in the field, this would be a moment when he would go still, assess, and make a counter-move. But here, on their turf, it was important to act as if he were any other person. Thus the fabricated fidgeting and relaxed posture. It was a task to remind himself to slouch, pass the time with a few bobs of his foot.

He hadn’t seen Mouton when he was brought in under request for questioning. While he’d have liked to tell the patrol officer to go fuck himself, he couldn’t risk word of his whereabouts getting back to his CO. He was going to be in hot water over this already.

As soon as this fruitless questioning was over, he needed to tie up his lose ends and get out of here. He was pretty certain if he could track down Mouton he could find Lisette, and that’s where the fun would start.

He leaned back in his chair and whistled a little tune. Oh, the fun they would have.

 

Mathieu studied Lisette
, huddled on the couch with Gator crowding her into the corner. The dog had picked up on her nervous energy and was trying his hardest to comfort her. Mathieu could see the confusion in Gator’s gaze every time he lifted his head and glanced around for the source of her unease.

Maybe Lisette needed her own dog. A puppy?

He discarded the idea as soon as he had it. Where would the poor thing sleep? It wasn’t as if the apartment was very large. Except… Lisette wouldn’t live with him forever. It was difficult to remember how life had gone on without her. And she’d been in his life again for less than two weeks. Was he really already halfway in love with her?

He was.

He shook his head and stepped through the bathroom door. Lisette needed a distraction. TV hadn’t helped. She had no interest in cooking. He couldn’t even engage her in conversation.

She’d begun to jump whenever his phone rang or someone passed the front door out in the hall. It was the kind of blatant display of fear he’d wanted to avoid. At this point, he couldn’t see keeping Seth’s whereabouts from her any longer, and maybe he’d been wrong doing it in the first place, but he’d done it out of care for her. She’d trusted him in the role of Dominant and he took it seriously. Maybe not in the beginning, but now she was all he cared about.

As quietly as possible, he lifted his play bag onto the bed. The partially closed bedroom door hid his intentions as he felt around for the implements he wanted. It was time to push Lisette. To show her how far she’d come. And distract her in the only way he knew she’d be able to really let go.

He’d never seen someone who threw themselves into the moment like she did. Especially in play. Lisette held nothing back, and so it stood to reason he could break through her circle of worry.

Mathieu finished preparing the bedroom and himself.

“Lissy?” He leaned through the bedroom door.

Her glassy gaze continued to stare at the coffee table, her lower lip pinched between her teeth.

“Lisette?” he said louder.

She jumped and shook her head. Gator was quick to reassure her with a lick to her hand.

“Sorry, what?” She patted the dog on the head and pressed her other hand to her forehead.

“Why don’t you put Gator in his crate and come in here?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t feel like taking a nap.”

“That wasn’t really a request.” He put just enough force into his voice. The change was immediate. Lisette sat up a little straighter and blinked a few times, life returning to her gaze. “Put Gator in his crate and come in here.”

He hated the stupid crate. Dogs were supposed to be able to run around, be free. But the rules of the building were crate or be kicked out. As soon as this stuff with Seth blew over, he was looking for a bigger place. Something with a yard, where he could see a future. With or without Lisette. He wanted her, but he wouldn’t hold her back.

Lisette coaxed Gator off the couch and into his crate, where he flopped with a heavy sigh. Gator hadn’t liked the crate too much when Mathieu had been forced to introduce it, but he’d accepted it the same way he did everything else in their jumbled life.

She turned and walked toward him, her gaze downcast and her spine straight. He grasped her chin and forced her to look at him.

“Do you want to tell me to stop?” he asked. He’d play if she’d let him, but he wouldn’t force it.

“Yes.”

His heart fell a little. “Are you going to tell me to stop?”

“No.”

Women were confusing creatures. He shook his head and stepped back so she could enter the bedroom.

“Strip,” he ordered.

She wordlessly obeyed, removing pants, hoodie, shirt and bra in quick, economical moves. It didn’t detract from the beauty of her. Lisette turned toward him, wearing nothing but panties and a frown. He bumped her chin again, not much of a fan of this somber, downtrodden version of Lisette.

“Hey.”

Her gaze slowly rose to his face. He got it. Everything was plain as day on her face—her fears, her worries, the memories were all in her eyes.

“Come here.” He gathered her into his harms, hugging her close, running his hands over her back, down her arms and sides.

Her arms looped around his waist, but she wasn’t into the moment. He might as well have asked her to clean the toilet for all that she was reacting. Maybe this wasn’t the best course of action, but he wanted to show her how strong she really was.

“I want you to turn around and put your hands on the bedpost,” he said into her ear.

This close, he felt the tremor snake through her. Was that him? Or the chill?

She turned away from him and set her hands against the bedpost. He blew out a breath and took the first toy from where he’d hung it on the doorknob.

Lisette glanced over her shoulder, brows furrowed. “Aren’t you going to tie me up?”

“No.” Mathieu pressed his front to her back. The curve of her ass fit against his groin oh-so-well, and he looped his left arm around her waist. He brought the crop around and drew the heart-shaped business end of it across her collarbone. “I want you to stand here of your own free will and do this. We haven’t done much impact play yet, besides a little heavy flogging and some spanking. I want to see what you do with real impact.”

She shook herself a bit and her breathing hitched. “I’m not a pain puppy, remember?”

“I know.” He continued to trace the line of her shoulder with the crop, enjoying how her focus had narrowed to the toy. “And I will respect that. This isn’t about pain, Lisette. This is about you.”

“W-what about me?”

It was marvelous, the way she gave herself over as she did. He continued to caress her chest, around her breasts and stomach with the crop.

“Your strength.” He lightly tapped her nipple with the crop.

She hissed and arched her back, laying her head on his shoulder. He popped her other breast with a little more force, not hard enough to hurt, just sting a bit. She hissed and wiggled in place.

“I’m going to show you just how strong you really are.” He pulled her head back, exposing her throat and kissed down to her collarbone.

While she was distracted, he brought the crop lower and peppered one thigh then the other with sharp, short smacks. She yelped in surprise, but was unable to escape the superficial blows. The little helpless mewls escaping her lips were not those of pain or fear.

He stepped back and brought the crop to bear on her the backs of her thighs and bottom until they turned a lovely, bright pink color. She groaned and rolled her hips. Tempting, but there was more yet to do. Farther to push.

The black crop was a sharp contrast to her pale skin as he drew a line down her spine, all the way to the edge of her panties. He wouldn’t target the softer portions of the body, but he wouldn’t tell her that. Flicking it across the ticklish portion of her side elicited a squeak and wiggle from her. He tapped her shoulders, hard enough to make an ominous sound but not hard enough to hurt.

Time to push her.

He brought his arm back and put some strength into the blow, landing it across her ass. Lisette yelped and groaned, muttering something that sounded like a curse under her breath.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Oh, fuck you, that stung,” she said.

He grinned and slipped the wrist strap off, hanging it up and freeing his hands. Before he selected his next implement, he covered her bottom with his palms. The heat soaked into his flesh now. He ran his hands over her body and the brightest of marks, gauging her reaction to their play.

She wasn’t shying away from him yet, so time to push her a little more.

He took the next toy from the doorknob and slapped it against his palm. The thud of impact was misleading. It stung like a bitch, making the delicate skin on his palms tingle.

“What?” Lisette twisted in place, her brows rising. She groaned. “I hate those.”

“Too bad.”

He pivoted, standing hip to hip with her, but facing away. He wrapped his left arm around her waist and began paddling her ass with the wooden toy. It wasn’t a big one, just six inches long and four wide with a handy, leather-bound handle, but it did the job.

Lisette bobbed up and down, jiggling her knees. She’d bent at almost a forty-five degree angle and had her shoulder against the bedpost now. Her usually delighted moans and groans took on a high pitch.

He tucked the paddle under his arm and slid his hand over her abused skin. She gasped softly and her body relaxed. She hadn’t been kidding him when she said she didn’t like the paddle. He’d have to remember that for when he really wanted to do something she didn’t enjoy.

Mathieu grabbed her ponytail and pulled her upright, her back flush to his chest, and held her there with the paddle pressed to her stomach.

“I’m pretty sure you like it,” he said just to goad her.

“Fuck you,” she spat. There was no way she was thinking about anything other than this moment, what they had. It was a success in Mathieu’s eyes since there was no room for Seth in her life now.

He slapped the paddle on her stomach, just hard enough to make a nice popping sound. She gasped and brought one knee up, trying to curl into herself. He pulled back on her hair, reminding her who was in control.

He had her where he wanted her. She was putty in his hands. The panting, breathless sounds were music to his ears. He tapped the paddle against the underside of her breasts, watching the play of tension across her face. How she clenched her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut.

No, she really didn’t like the paddle.

She grasped his jeans in both hands, fisting the material while he peppered light slaps and taps to her torso. He was careful; the paddle could break bones if used too hard, and she was so small and breakable.

Lisette’s hand closed around his cock, squeezing him through the denim. He shuddered mid-blow and froze while she rubbed her palm across the length of his cock. He allowed her to continue, enjoying the uninhibited pleasure of it. There was nothing shy about Lisette, which was one of the things he appreciated about her. Though now he was far more appreciative of her other qualities, like a ready and waiting pussy.

Other books

Like We Care by Tom Matthews
Beautifully Damaged by Fiore, L.A.
Silver Mage (Book 2) by D.W. Jackson
La hija del Apocalipsis by Patrick Graham
Looks Like Daylight by Deborah Ellis
Freedom Summer by Bruce W. Watson
The Absence of Mercy by John Burley