“I’ll add it to the agenda, then,” he said, plunging back in.
“To the spreadsheet?” I snorted, imagining a big S and M version of the dreaded Organisational Tool, though it came out as ‘Go uh shredshht,’ due to the inconveniently placed whip in my teeth.
“Are you cheeking me, young lady?” he warned, running a finger of reminder along one of the welts left by the riding crop.
Ouch. “No, Sir. Wouldn’t dare, Sir.”
“Good.”
Then the ride began in earnest, a fast-paced rocking in and out, hard thighs leaning on my softer flesh, slapping and pushing at it, fingertips bruising my hips, the whip quivering at either side of me while my head dipped lower and lower until it met the mattress. He wedged a hand down between my thigh and his hardworking cock, his fingers managing to gain a purchase on my clit, bringing me to the brink, too far, too fast…
I said something that, muffled by the crop and my extreme closeness to the edge, I hoped was intelligible as, “Please, Sir, may I come?”
He had mercy on me, said a gruff, “You may,” then fucked me relentlessly through my orgasm, which was a long, overwhelming journey into the very core of me.
My teeth ground and chewed on the whip and my hands twisted and chafed against the restraining belt. I sobbed and crumpled, waiting now for him to finish, which he did very soon afterwards.
Although I wished I could see his face, it was satisfying and moving to hear the high, throaty sounds that were wrenched from him—a moment of vulnerability at last.
I felt him withdraw, but I maintained my face-down position on the mattress, unable to move until I heard his voice giving permission. The mattress sloped me to the left and I knew he’d sat down beside me. I sensed him unfurl his long body beside me, then his hand was on my neck, ruffling the damp strands of hair there.
He said, “Come and lie down.”
Slightly stiff, I managed to haul myself fully onto the bed, flopping down on my side, gathered against him by one long arm. Now I was in my deepest, neediest dreams, exhausted and needing comfort, taking it from the man who had just whipped and fucked me.
“I should untie you,” he said, yawning, and he reached around to loosen the belt from my wrists. “Much as I like you like that. Where’s the crop?”
I realised I was lying on it. I felt its curved edge making a ridge in my hip.
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Oh God. Nothing matters any more. Just this.”
The words seemed to come from somewhere way down deep inside him. He sounded more than exhausted—he sounded weary, as if surrendering to a higher power after years of struggle.
“Just this,” I whispered, kissing the lobe of his ear.
I wasn’t consciously waiting for him to give me answers, but he seemed to know I needed them, at a deeper level.
He turned and kissed me, full and long, on the lips, then he stroked my hair from my face and said, “You know things are not perfect in my life, don’t you?”
“I’ve had…an inkling.” I didn’t dare ask. I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer. I just wanted the one answer that said, “I want you, regardless.” If I didn’t get that, I wasn’t sure how I would face tomorrow.
“I can’t tell you much. I once had a different name and a different life, in a different country. I lost control of my financial affairs and got involved with some dangerous people. This is why I think it’s important to be on top of your affairs.”
“Oh. I think I understand.” I widened my eyes. I didn’t say the words, ‘Witness Protection,’ but my eyes flashed the signal, and his seemed to respond in the affirmative. “I won’t ask, I promise.”
“The less you know, the better. I want to protect you and, if I’m honest, the best way I can do that is by letting you go. But I don’t think I can. I’m not as strong as I make out sometimes.”
“Is there a serious risk?”
“I hope not. There shouldn’t be. I just have to be cautious. The really dangerous people are behind bars now, probably forever. I’m going to give you the chance, right now, to walk away, if you feel you can’t…”
His voice trailed off, sounding hopeless. I had never felt so much love, so much desire to make everything right.
“I’m not going to walk away,” I told him. “What, after all that effort I made to stalk you? I’m staying. If you’ll have me?”
“Oh, I’ll have you,” he said. He kissed the top of my head. “Thanks,” he said. “You’re a glutton for punishment, obviously.”
“Ahem. That’s why I’m here, remember?”