Intimidator (18 page)

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Authors: Cari Silverwood

BOOK: Intimidator
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Chapter 19

Willow waved as the taxi did a U-turn and drove off. Ally’s ashen face with the downturned mouth was all she could see for many yards until the taxi was blocked by other cars merging into the traffic.

It’s nothing. She’ll be fine.

She sat on the porch as Stom had requested, waiting. Some Preyfinders had pulled up in a black Jeep with darkened windows. Carrying large overstuffed bags, they filed past the house down the side and she heard Stom let them in the back door. Whatever they were doing, it was a secret. She sighed. Considering how important today was, she’d hoped they could keep battle negotiations or discussing what to wear at the next Preyfinder ball for another time.

The day had started badly, perhaps that meant it would end well?

Getting Ally to go in the subsidized taxi to hospital appointments had often been a major expedition, so she’d reinforced the medications this morning by using the extra dose. The doctors said it was okay as a once-in-a-blue-moon thing. The driver knew not to take her anywhere except to the clinic, and staff would meet her at the door. Why did this always feel like feeding a guppy to an aquarium of moray eels? It was for the best today, though; she was such an innocent. Stom’s plans would likely turn Ally’s brain inside out if she was in the house.

The compulsion was there and made her doubt herself. Sometimes she wanted to please him too much. Was she a laboratory mouse bumping and bumping the dispenser button to get more food?

She sighed then let a smile grow as anticipation wriggled its way to the front of her thoughts and bounced up and down.

After today, she would be
his
. An outcome that, logically, she would’ve been appalled by a few days ago, yet now she wanted dearly. Without him she would die – literally. Her damn heart would stop. The shaking, blacking out, and throwing up had better not manifest when he went down the road for a carton of milk.

She hugged her knees. Life with Stom had a big potential for hurt, and she didn’t care a single jot. There was something
more
about life with him. An impossible yet seriously infinite spice was added.

But…
Oh my, Stom.

“Would I have loved you if this pet nano-chem hadn’t been used on me?”
Shit.
What a dumb question, but it dug its claws into her and wouldn’t leave.

She rocked her chin on her hands for a moment. Yes? She remembered all that she’d seen of him, knew of him. Even this devotion to his dead family reeked of a stupidly loyal, good man. She would have fallen for him anyway, once she got over the alien crap, in about ten years’ time.

Love plus this nano-chem, all it had done was make possible something that otherwise would’ve had her screaming and running.

The Preyfinders left, none of them sparing her a glance. Cheerful lot.

What happened after today wasn’t just to do with her. Stom had promised to help Ally. What if she could be cured of this mental illness that made her shy away from other people and the outdoors? That would justify almost anything. This one day of sacrifice was a whisper in the wind compared to the vision of Ally running screaming with joy down a street of people, shaking their hands, grabbing kids and hugging and kissing them… Whoah. Okay, that might get her arrested, but still.

She stood and went to the front door. Stom had promised, and she believed in him.

When she closed the door and turned, he was there. Hands behind his back, in a cream shirt and dark brown pants – like a normal handsome man, if you discounted all the black stripes meandering across his skin. His black hair was tousled and she longed to comb it with her fingers, but not to tame it, just to play with it and watch his face while she did so.

A Preyfinder had knocked at the door last night and piled his clothes, his weapons, and the long black coat into her arms. An armored coat, Stom had once told her. She’d gone to her knees with the weight of the damned thing.

She looked coyly at him and turned around slowly with the hem of her little white dress in one hand, lifted just enough to show a hint of her ass. No panties, of course.

“Would Sir like to sample the merchandise?”

He beckoned with one finger and revealed that in his other hand he held the leash he’d used on her in the forest. But in the hand doing the beckoning, something flashed in the light.

“I have a gift for you.”

“Jewelry?”

“Could be. Come here so I can show you what a good Feya pet wears.”

“I thought I was a mate and not a pet?” She danced a little closer, thinking of holding back and teasing, but his reach was longer than she suspected. Stom grabbed her arm and brought her in.

“Stand there. You’re whatever I say you are since your mark is still maturing. See how the color is filling in?”

Feather light, he ran his finger around the twisted red spiral on her left upper arm then he tucked that finger under the shoestring strap of the dress.

“What a pretty pet, you are.” As he spoke, he ran his finger up and down under the strap, reminding her how close he was to the upper swell of her breast. Then he smiled that gorgeous yet deviant smile that said to her:
I know you’re turned on and I plan to molest you soon.

Her tongue came out all on its own to touch her upper lip.

When his eyes narrowed, she zipped it back into her mouth.

“A pet, legally, has few rights before her Master. I plan to test out my pet properly today. Before she turns into my mate.”

The promise in that gave her pause. No rights? Scary, yet intriguing. In his unique fashion, Stom was the epitome of a good bad man.

“Mm. I think I can handle that.” When she went to sneak up on her toes to kiss him, he pushed down on her shoulders.

“Stay. Or I might get ideas. I have yet to show you how I punish my pet girl.”

The minor threat was enough to make her feel that familiar heated tingle below. “How?”

He chuckled then said softly, “You’re not supposed to look eager. I need to see something before I show you the jewelry.”

With the tips of his fingers, he drew the shoestring straps off her shoulders. Red gemstones glinted and the gold links trailed from his hands across her skin, cold on her upper breasts. Earrings?

Below the bodice of her dress was a little line of elastic, which helped to emphasize her bosom. It also kept the dress from falling to her ankles as he slowly pulled it down to reveal the swell of her breasts. Since she’d not worn a bra or panties, her nipples had been poking at the material since he’d begun with the slave girl threats. Now, they were bare.

And red. Her nipples were extremely red. That surprise was going to take a while to lessen. It made her want to look in the mirror at herself and marvel.

More than even the spiral on her arm, this color seemed to say,
I’m His
.

Expressionless, Stom lifted her breasts and caressed them with his thumb, encouraging her nipples to bunch even tighter. She sucked in a breath, savoring the feeling, parting her mouth as the sensations grew and sent out erotic signals. When he touched them too roughly, she wriggled and scrunched her toes. Today, they were excruciatingly sensitive. The bonding, perhaps?

“On a pet, these need decoration.” With finger and thumb, he firmly trapped both her nipples.

She tried not to look too worried but her lower lip curled down. “They do?”

“Mm-hm. Yes, they do.”

She recognized the jewelry as nipple clamps – having seen something similar on a website she’d browsed. “Kinky. I know what those are.”

“Do you? I suppose when females have nipples there are only so many things one can do with them. Though for Feya, this is a tradition on obtaining a pet.”

“You decorate them?”

“We do. Wherever our color shows.” There was a glint in his eye that made her think fast.

“My…” The lips of her pussy were red. Her cheeks warmed. “Not there!”

“No?” His voice dropped into a gravely tone that sent a delicious quake through her. “Does my pet think to refuse?”

“Umm. I guess, maybe, not?” She twisted up one brow, not wanting to disappoint him. The idea of him doing this had her imagining the feel of his hands and him making her sit still while he found her clit. She stumbled to ask the obvious. “Will it hurt much?”

Stom chuckled. “You’ll find out soon.”

Instead of applying the clamps, he released her.

“First this.” He took the red collar from his pocket and locked that onto her neck, firm, yet careful.

He’d not even asked if he could do that, and at the hypnotizing stroke of his finger on her neck, tracing above the collar, she shivered, her eyelids lowering as she savored the sensation.

“Does my pet like that?”

The words sank in but she kept her eyes down.

“Willow?”

She heaved in a breath, slow as the ocean. “Yes.”

Then, as reverent as an artist putting the final touches on a sculpture, he went to one knee and drew her dress the rest of the way down, wiggling it over the curves of her ass then past her upper thighs. He held her hip and helped her step from the pool of cloth at her feet.

She stood naked before him.

“Now this,” he said as he smoothed his palm up her thigh, “This is you, only you.”

With his mouth so close to the
vee
at the top of her legs she felt paralyzed, ready to obey whatever orders he might give her. But he only rested the side of his face on her belly and wrapped his arms about her lower body. For a while he said and did nothing more. Puzzled, she threaded her hand into his hair, enjoying the feel of it running across her fingers.

“Are you okay?”

He stroked her ass then cupped one side with the whole of his large hand. “Shh. Yes. Yes, I am. I’m appreciating you. You smell so good, feel so good.” Then he turned his head and nipped above her hip. She jumped.

“Ow!”

“You interrupted my meditation.”

Since he couldn’t see, she stuck her tongue out but then had to suppress a giggle. This was Stom being a little sillier than his usual self. She let him be, breathing quietly, enjoying touching him and him touching her. Standing here naked with Stom doing this made her feel like she was on the edge of something, about to step off into space, but with him by her side it was safe. She could do anything if he was there too.

In the forest, he’d said he wasn’t in love. Yet hope was rising.

He rose to his feet and took her hand. “Come.”

Then he led her to her bedroom, with the hallway rug soft under her bare feet, and he let her enter the room first, his palm at the small of her back.

The scent of tangy tree sap and flower blossom made her aware that something was different even before she registered what was before her. She padded in. Stom followed and waited behind her, resting his hands on her waist.

“Wow. What have you been doing?”

Her bed was still her bed, though covered by a cloth embellished in some alien yet vaguely Arabian theme. On her normally staid bed, the cloth was an invasion of vibrant metallic shades of pink, blue and green. The edges of her room had been made a forest. Tree limbs crisscrossed with drooping branches and foliage. If her other furniture was here, it was lost behind the leaves. Even the ceiling was barely visible, with fresh branches weaving together as if they’d grown there. The recessed lights cast dappled shadows that swayed and shifted.

She took another step. Petals of rose and daisy were strewn across the bed cloth, and the air wept the scent of crushed flowers. It woke her soul.

She inhaled, half closing her eyes, and held out her hands, palm upward as if to catch rain that was about to fall. The fragrance alone made her imagine she was in the midst of some far away jungle.

“Stom,” she turned in his arms, smiling shyly, “this is beautiful and incredible and –”

“Shh.” He enfolded her until his arms caged her, gentle, though the muscles of his biceps were hard as stone. When he kissed her, their lips met in a sweet and soft caress.

Then he undressed and drew her forward until he could sit on the bed with her standing before him.

“Be good for me.” This time each of his kisses met her nipples. He sucked on each a few times, enough to make her gasp, and his teeth followed through with light tug.

Her throat tightened. “That’s hot.” When he approached her nipple with the little clamps, she wanted to duck backward but she made herself be still. The gems swung at the end of the clamp. The jaws enclosed her nipple.

Not good! Not good!
Her belly tensed and she couldn’t help a whine escaping.

“Be still,” Stom muttered as he screwed the clamp tighter. He kissed the underside of her breast. “These are so pretty on you. I only need them to stay on. I don’t need pain from you.”

“Can I put some on you then?” Her challenge resulted in him giving the dangling metal a tug. “Owie. I guess that’s a no. It is hurting. Umm. Or maybe not.”

The pain pulsed, excruciating one second, then somehow it flipped and pleasure returned, expanding as blood coursed through the nipple.

It hurt, but not impossibly so, and she loved seeing him do it to her, knowing he’d put each clamp on her. She loved the pleasure he took from this. When he placed the second one, she only squirmed a little.

“Much prettier than one.” He tapped each gem-stoned weight, sending them swinging.

Her femaleness seemed emphasized, her breasts on display and heavier. When he stroked her, she hummed and met his gaze.
More.

“I’m glad you like them. Now, open your legs.” He shifted back on the bed and showed her the last clamp. “This one is merely for decoration, Willow.”

Though not convinced, she shuffled closer. There was a darkness to Stom’s gaze which almost made her fear. With one hand on her ass, he urged her between his legs. His other hand separated her thighs, exposing her intimately. He inspected her.

“I need to do some encouraging. It’s not coming out to play.”

“It?” she whispered, blushing. “
It
is sensible.”

“But until it comes out, I can’t make you mine. I just need it begging me. Out where I can see it.”

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