Page 22 of Hard Ride
“You didn’t expect that, did you?” Tate breathes against my skin, again reading my mind. “But here’s the thing, little sub. You ran away from me all those years ago, and no one runs away from me, not without a word or explanation.”
I shut my eyes, a thread of panic winding through me. I don’t want to talk about this, I don’t want to go through it, not again. “I can’t?—”
“Did I ask you to speak?” he interrupts. “No, I did not. Only speak when spoken to, remember? Now, you’re going to be punished, Katherine. You won’t like the punishment, but you’ll take it because I told you to.”
His fingers flex around my throat, a subtle display of strength, of ownership, and hot, electric shivers crackle through my nerve endings. I don’t want to like this, I don’t want it to turn me on, yet it does.
“You can say your safe word at any time, remember?’ he murmurs in my ear. “Do you want to say it now, sub?”
My brain is tripping and falling over itself, trying to make sense of what’s happening. The slap on my ass. The mention of punishment. The reminder of the safe word. I could say it. I could. And all this confusion would end. I could walk out that door without looking back.
Then again, is this some kind of double bluff? I know he doesn’t want me to leave, so is he expecting me to grit my way through it?
I don’t want to do what he expects, yet I’m not sure there is any way to second-guess him. What I do know is that I’m certainly not going to give him the satisfaction of running like a coward.
“No, Sir,” I say, making my voice sound cool and very level.
“Good,” he says, and abruptly releases me, stepping away. “Stay there. Don’t move a muscle.”
I attempt to steady my frantic breathing, trying to pull myself together again. Behind me, I can hear Tate going over to the large cabinet standing against the wall and pulling out a drawer. I want to turn and see what he’s doing, but he told me not to move, and so I stand there like an idiot, breathing too fast, my brain going round and around in circles.
Then I feel his heat behind me, and he’s taking my wrists and pulling my arms behind me, and then comes the cool feel of leather against my skin and a feeling of pressure around my wrists.
Oh shit. Cuffs.
I catch my breath as the cuffs tighten, my wrists now securely fastened at the small of my back. I’m helpless. Completely and utterly helpless. The thread of panic winds tighter, but along with it comes that dark and dirty pleasure. My body likes the cuffs. It likes them very much.
Tate comes round to face me, his sharp green gaze cutting through me like a blade of pure emerald. “I told you that you wouldn’t like it,” he says. “But I think you like being cuffed, don’t you?” Before I can reply, he takes a step, closing the distance between us, so he’s right there, towering over me. And I feel his hand push between my thighs, his fingers stroking over my pussy, sending electric sparks everywhere. I gasp, tensing at the touch.
“I thought so.” His voice is full of masculine satisfaction as he takes his hand away. “You’re already wet and we haven’t even started.”
He lifts his hand to his mouth and licks my wetness from his fingertips with relish. “Nice,” he murmurs approvingly. “You taste just as good as I remember.”
My cheeks burn, but all he does is gesture to a spot on the floor in front of the armchair near his desk. “Kneel beside my armchair, sub. Eyes on the floor. Keep still.”
“Yes, Sir,” I parrot, hating how husky my voice is. But I don’t want him to be right about me being scared, so I walk over to the spot he indicated, and then I kneel where he asked me to, staring at the floor.
He moves past me, over to the door, and unlocks it. Then, to my shock, he walks out without a backward glance, closing the door behind him.
9
Lucas
Ifinish up with Cherry by giving her a kiss for the pretty way she obeyed. She likes kissing, and I don’t mind it with a sub who’s been particularly good. But then she puts a hand on my chest and looks up at me. “You didn’t come, Daddy,” she says. “I’m sorry if I didn’t give you what you needed.”
Cherry is genuine in her submission. She wants the Doms to enjoy it as much as she does, and she knows I’m still hard. Unfortunately, that’s not something I can hide from her since she’s sitting in my lap.
“That’s not on you,” I say. “It’s a problem with me. You were perfect.”
She loves praise, and I can see that she’s pleased with my answer. Yet there’s still a little worry in her dark eyes. But I’m not talking about Katie with her — I don’t talk about Katie with anyone — so instead I distract her with another kiss before sending her out of the playroom to get dressed.
I go over to the bed and pick up my jacket, my stupid fucking cock pressing hard against the zipper of my pants, making me furious at myself.
Katie was watching me, and knowing she was on the other side of that glass got me so fucking hard, so fucking quickly. I should have allowed myself to come with Cherry, because if I had, I wouldn’t be so goddamn angry. But I didn’t. I was fantasizing about her as I was fucking Cherry, and I knew if I kept going, I’d come quicker than I wanted to. It was distracting, and that wasn’t fair to Cherry. Also, apart from anything else, I didn’t want Katie to have that kind of power over me.
I never wantanyoneto have that kind of power over me, especially when I spent the first part of my life at the mercy of the foster system, bounced from one family to another. Last I counted, I’d been with fifteen different families before I got stuck in a group home. So, yeah, choice and control areimportant, which is probably why being a switch didn’t work out for me.
I reach down and rearrange my stupid fucking dick, gritting my teeth as a flash of memory hits me. Of Cherry kneeling at my feet, with my cock in her mouth, and all I could think was, did Katie wish she was Cherry right now? Or was all of this turning her off completely?
