Freed (7 page)

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Authors: Stacey Kennedy

Tags: #Adult, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Freed
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“Wet, sir,” she replied with a soft laugh.

“Good.” He chuckled before his smile vanished and hardness formed in his features. “That’s how your cunt will stay until you give me a truthful answer the first time.” He moved off the bed, gathering his pants before he looked to her with a firm expression that gave no room for argument. “Go and shower.”

She was tempted to take the power away and make it her decision to go shower when she wanted, not when he told her to—so that she kept the control, not him—but the achiness of her body reminded her not to push a Dom too far.

This time, she listened.

Chapter Seven

The sun beaming across Mary’s skin opened her eyes. Her stare connected with the finger that once held her wedding ring, which she had removed a year after Charles’s death. It became too difficult to explain when patients would ask about her husband. The decision had been gut-wrenching, but having to say her husband died was worse. Though the diamond necklace around her neck, declaring Charles’s claim on her soul, would never come off.

Feeling hardness against her, and a sense of comfort she hadn’t felt in some time, she turned onto her side. Elliott’s smile greeted her, and she smiled in return. They’d spent an entire weekend together, not anything she imagined would have happened when she accepted his invitation, and most of that time with him, he took care of her. It’d been years since anyone had taken care of
her.

She’d always been taking care of everyone else.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked in his smooth voice.

Her heart skipped at how beautiful he looked in the morning. Naked, with the white cover at his waist. Her fingers itched to trace the lines of his masculine body. “I did, actually. Very well.”

His smile sweetened. “I’m glad.”

Mary thought she should feel terrible for being with Elliott, but she didn’t. All she felt was satisfied to her bones and content with him next to her. Though as that knowledge swept through her, she shut her eyes, unable to stop the memory invading her mind.

In Chains, Mary sighed as she knelt on the stage with all of their closest friends surrounding them. Tears filled her eyes as Charles held the sparkling diamond necklace in front of her. This day had seemed to happen all too quickly, but she didn’t doubt her decision to give herself fully to Charles. She knew more than anything in her life that this, them together, was meant to be.

Charles grasped her chin, commanding her gaze. “Only mine, Mary.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered in adoration.

He slid the collar around her neck and fastened it. Then he looked to her with the love that she believed would get them through anything. “Mine,” he said softly. “Forever.”

She lost herself in his powerful hold, and the heavy weight of the diamonds would forever remind her that she, her heart and soul, belonged to him. “Yours. Always.”

Charles smiled, not only in happiness, it seemed, but in full gratitude that she had given him her soul.

She opened her eyes and sickness rolled through her. This was too personal. Elliott erased thoughts with sensations, relaxation, pleasure; he had made her forget Charles. She couldn’t forget.

She’d come to the party to experience a BDSM scene, not anything this intimate. Yet as Elliott shifted on his side, tracing his fingers down her arm, it all became too tender. The look in his eyes wasn’t distant or what she remembered when she had a few one-night stands in her twenties before meeting Charles. He looked to her like Charles once did, with intent and interest.

Coldness swept through her, as part of her fought against wanting to give in. She wondered what her children would think if they knew she was in bed with another man. If they discovered that their mother had moved on from her deceased husband. Ice filled her veins, as Elliott’s touch didn’t bring heat, but the exact opposite.

The flight response.

She began to sit up. “I should go.”

Elliott moved on top of her, sliding between her thighs and closing his hard body against hers. “Ah, darlin’, I’m not quite done with you.” Then his lips crushed against hers, and regardless of her hesitations, she was melting.

His mouth on hers was pure passion. Every move he made and swipe of his tongue forced her into his command. A low groan rumbled from his mouth as his cock rubbed against her mound, which was damp with need.

The power his touch possessed made her forget her mind all over again. The way he used his body stole her hesitations. Overwhelmed by the sheer sensation of how well Elliott kissed, she struggled to remember why she wanted to leave.

He nibbled on her bottom lip, then sucked it into his mouth. Grasping her face, he tilted her head and devoured her neck, slowly moving down her body. Mary held her breath in anticipation. Kissing his way over her shoulder, he licked down the curve of her arm, and she arched into him. Her breasts tingled beneath her corset and her nipples puckered. She glanced down as he went lower and pressed his lips against her hip bone. Then his gaze lifted and his dark eyes held hers, not with the warmth she expected from him, but perhaps because he had been strained when he couldn’t do as he wanted with her all weekend.

One sleek brow arched. “Grab the headboard.”

Not a question.

A demand.

She battled against using her safe word and ending their time together. She knew she should. Elliott seemed too invested. This wasn’t simply sex; she knew that now. But she was throbbing, her submission yearning for just another moment of play. She ached for his tongue to dive inside her.

Mary greedily wanted another orgasm. She slowly lifted her hands up to the headboard and her fingers wrapped around the cool metal bars that likely were for design only, but were, in fact, perfect for bondage.

“That’s it,” he murmured in a rumbly voice. “Keep them right there.” His grin was wicked and oh-so-arrogant before he lowered his head, traveling lower down her body. When he rested between her thighs, he spread her legs, tucking them over his strong shoulders.

She gazed at his dark head of hair as he blew over her slick heat. When he gave one firm lick up her folds, her eyes fluttered shut. A shiver ran through her as his tongue pressed against her clit, and she gasped as the sensual lick vanished.

“What type of medicine do you practice?” His voice was controlled, steady.

Something Mary couldn’t quite figure out, since she felt wildly out of control. “I’m a family doctor,” she replied, squirming and yearning.

Another lick had her arching for more.

“Do you like your job?” he asked.

She dropped her hands, heat pooling right down in her gut for him to continue. “Do you really want to discuss this
now
?”

He nipped her thigh hard and she gasped in pain, as he added, “I told you last night, you get pleasure when you answer me truthfully the first time.” He lifted his head from her sex and his eyes narrowed. “I also told you to keep your hands on the headboard.”

“Sorry, sir,” she muttered, returning her hands to the metal bars.

“Now answer the question.” His voice was hard.

“I love my job.” She held his stare, yet by his grin she knew he was well aware how aroused she was. How damn needy she was. And perhaps that’s why he did it. Maybe he was using the only leverage he could to get to know her.

Another long, savoring lick up her folds had her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“Why did you choose that particular medical field?” he asked, swirling his tongue over her clit, making her nearly cross-eyed.

She grasped the headboard tight, angled her chin, and barely managed, “The personal relationships.”

“Ah, that is very sweet.”

She didn’t know if he meant her response or how she tasted. Though she decided she didn’t care as he flicked her clit in a fast rhythm leaving her squirming. Heaviness settled low in her body when his mouth vanished. He kissed her thigh and asked, “I already know you like the water, but what else do you do for fun?”

She could barely lie still, fighting against her desire to grab his head and send him back to her sex. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, pinning her to him. She gasped. “The. Theater.”

“I’ve always enjoyed a good musical, too.” His breath brushed across her heated flesh as he kissed her clit. “Seems we have more in common than just how much our bodies react to each other, hmmm?”

Before she could pull away and discount that personal connection between them, keeping things sexual, not intimate, he no longer teased and asked questions. He slid one finger deep inside of her, settling his tongue over her clit and flicking it in a fast rhythm that matched the speed of his finger deep inside her.

Fire stormed into her lower body. Her inner muscles were clenching, as he drove her ecstasy higher. When he added another finger into her wet heat, she became undone. Pleasure overtook her and she writhed against his mouth, pushing against him for a deeper sensation. Yet it wasn’t enough,
not
quite there…

Needing more, craving her orgasm, she dropped her hands to his head and ground herself against his mouth. His fingers pumped inside her, fast and determined. He wrapped his lips around her bundle of nerves and sucked hard.

Then she was flying.

She bucked and jerked, moaning out in pure erotic euphoria. Each deep contraction of pleasure made her scream out louder, and only Elliott pinning her to the bed kept her still. She fisted his hair and shuddered against his mouth.

By the time her mind returned and the hard shaking of her body faded, she was left panting, a light sheen of sweat covering her skin. Then she realized she had threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him tight against her.

Elliott kissed her swollen clit before he glanced up her body with narrowed eyes. “Mary, where are your hands?”

She blinked out of her hazy state and nearly cursed, realizing her mistake. “On your head, sir.”

A devilish grin played on the corners of his mouth. “While I’ll never complain about you grinding your sweet cunt against my mouth, I do believe I gave you an order.” Darkness stormed into his gaze. “An order that I’m sure you know well enough not to ignore.”


Elliott grinned at Mary’s wide eyes.
Oh, yes, the sub realized her mistake. Good.
He reached for the black rope on the nightstand and ran it through his fingers, staring down at her. He looked over her corset, cursing the damn thing. His tongue tingled to lick her breasts, to nibble on her nipple, and to suck it into the roof of his mouth.

He glanced lower over Mary’s creamy white thighs, and he noticed that his cock was standing straight up, veins protruding along the shaft, as desire engulfed him. The sensation of possession he had not felt in a very long time, if ever, stormed across him.

Lust didn’t lie.

A connection to a woman this intense was clear-cut. But Mary continued to keep him at a very safe distance. Though once that busy mind of hers shut off, she gave herself over to him. And it was lovely. He swallowed deeply, glancing into her eyes.
There you go, sweetheart.
She stared at him openly, and without this barrier he saw every once in a while. The steamy look she gave him now was one he had wondered if he’d ever find: deep, unleashed passion.

Elliott had waited to experience this since his divorce. To meet the one woman who made sense out of why his marriage had failed. To make him feel that ending his marriage was the right thing to do. He had never felt this level of passion with his ex-wife. She had never reacted under his touch like Mary had. But past that, his ex-wife had never given him her submission, not like this.

Not this raw and real.

Certainly not with the level of emotion that Mary offered. In a few special moments that he would never forget, she gave every last piece of her: her body, her mind, and her soul. Elliott knew it wasn’t so much her actions drawing him in; it was a feeling running through him, calling to his Dominance.

Protect her.

Cherish her.

Keep her.

All his wants and wishes were suddenly right there waiting for him, as if fate had finally delivered the submissive made for him. The one woman who needed him as much as he needed her. The possibility of having something that he only dreamed possible: love and submission combined, not one or the other.

Now he had it so close he couldn’t stop himself from tasting and savoring it.

Allowing himself to experience this unexplainable connection, he gestured to Mary’s hand, and as if she read his thoughts, she lifted her wrist. Last night he wanted to bind her, but her emotional state made him hesitant. Mary’s body was lax and quiet. Willing, dark eyes allowed him to do as he pleased. He intended to fulfill his desires.

He wrapped the rope around her wrists, and formed a cuff and then slid the end of the rope through the headboard. He continued on to her other wrist, making another cuff and binding her. Once he tied the knots, keeping her right there in the bed for whatever he wanted, he noticed the flush of her cheeks.

“Bondage is a favored kink?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” she rasped.

Though he also wondered if the experience felt unnerving to her, as it would for a new submissive when she was first bound. Mary had already lived one life; now it was like she was starting over.

Elliott reveled in the game.

He continued wrapping the free end of the rope all the way down her forearm, until he reached her elbow and tied a knot. “Tell me why you enjoy bondage.”

Her breath hitched once before her voice came out steady. “I’m aroused by the portrayal that there is an edge of danger, that I cannot run away. That you could do whatever you wanted to me.” Her gaze held his, strong and solid in her choice to allow this. “That it gives me the sense that you are in complete control of me.”

He finished wrapping her other forearm, and after he tied the knot, he said, “I could do many wicked things to you, couldn’t I?” He admired her creamy skin against the black rope, and his cock jerked to get inside her.

“Yes, sir,” she replied with a soft grin.

“But we both know these ropes do not control you, do they?”

“No, sir. You control me.”

This woman tempted him, the one who gave him truthful answers about their connection. The distant woman he figured was a front to keep him at bay. He leaned down over her and brought his mouth close to hers. “You like my control, don’t you, Mary? Like that I am teaching you how not to move when I ask, because you cannot help yourself but squirm under my touch?”

She arched into him. “Yes, sir.”

Emotionally, he saw the distance she’d kept him at. Whenever he stopped touching her, she shut down. The moment his hands were on her body, she roused. He knew if he hadn’t pushed for her to stay the weekend, she wouldn’t have. But he wanted to know more about her and he wanted to investigate why he felt such a draw to her; whether she wanted the same, only time would tell.

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