Page 79 of Tamed

“Relax,” he murmured and gripped the material imprisoning my wrists to hold me still. His hips were insistent, pressing deeper, but his hand was on my back, giving me long calming strokes. “Trust me, little girl. Trust me to make it feel good. And trust yourself to handle it, enjoy it.”

That was the issue, and he knew that. It wasn’t him I didn’t trust, it was myself. Myself and my stupid feelings for him, the hunger inside me that wanted him so very badly yet was so afraid of failing him.

But he’d told me repeatedly how much he wanted me, how I hadn’t disappointed him, and I wouldn’t, and I guess this was part of the trust exercise. I had to trust his word that I was enough. I had to believe him and trust myself, trust my feelings for him.

So, I surrendered. Surrendered into the heat of him behind me and his strong hands. Surrendered into my feelings for him. It felt a like drowning. You knew you’d never reach the surface. You knew you’d never find air. You couldn’t fight the water and so you opened your mouth and breathed it in. And there was beauty in finally letting go. A sense of relief so powerful it almost brought tears to my eyes.

He must have felt all the tension leave me, because then he pressed forward, and I felt him slide into me, my flesh parting before him. I gasped, shivering. It hurt because he was big and this wasn’t something I’d ever done before. But he kept stroking my back even as he pushed deeper, slow and relentless.

I breathed through the pain, felt the pleasure coil tighter as his hand moved over my skin. “Good girl,” he murmured in rough approval. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

I flushed with heat at his praise, glowing at the warm note in his voice, then broke out into a sweat as he pushed even deeper. My vision swam with more tears at the unbearable sting, but he didn’t stop, and I didn’t want him to.

He thought I could handle it and so I would. And he wasn’t holding back, and that made everything a thousand times more erotic, a thousand times more sweet.

I panted as he let go of my wrists and slipped his hand between my thighs, finding my aching clit and rubbing gently. The pleasure grew sharper, and I groaned again, shivering.

He began to move, slow and easy. It hurt but not so much that I couldn’t deal, and besides, the pain added a jagged edge to the pleasure, intensifying everything. God, it felt good, and I could tell by the sound of his breathing, of how fast it was getting and by how tight his grip on my hip was, that he was feeling it too.

His finger slid around and over my clit, and I ground my hips against it, desperate for friction. I thought I’d have gone off like a rocket the moment he touched me, yet I hadn’t. The feel of his cock in my ass was so good and yet not enough. I needed more.

He thrust and I heard him curse under his breath, then he thrust again, a deep grunt of pleasure escaping him. I loved the sound. I loved that I could make him feel good too, but I wanted to see his face. I wanted to watch what I was doing to him, but he had a firm hand on me and all I could do was moan against the cotton in my mouth, the pressure of an intense, mind-blowing orgasm slowly building inside me. A pressure that with every thrust of his hips and stroke of his finger, was becoming more and more insistent.

He kept his pace easy yet relentless until if I’d had my hands free, I would have been clawing at the cushions. But I didn’t have them free. All I could do was writhe beneath him, moaning out my pleasure from behind my gag.

“Are you ready to come, little girl?” His voice was dark and harsh from behind me. “Are you going to come for your Daddy?”

I nodded frantically, pushing back against him, desperate for more friction. And he gave it, pinching my clit sharply, hard enough to make the pressure inside me suddenly burst apart in a wild cascade of pleasure.

I screamed against the material over my mouth as ecstasy exploded like a firework, lighting up every nerve ending I had. There were lights behind my eyes, my entire body shaking, but Caleb only upped his pace, thrusting harder, faster, his breathing harsh, his grip on my hips punishing. Then at last he gave a guttural roar, his hips slamming into mine one last time as the orgasm came for him too. Then his hands came down on the cushions on either side of my head, his body covering mine, pressing me down into the couch as I trembled through the aftershocks. He was so hot and heavy, the hard, muscular weight of him like a shield between me and the world. He was like a giant security blanket, and I just wanted to stay there, snuggled beneath him and safe.

For a long minute afterward neither of us said anything. All I could hear was the sound of his harsh breaths mingling with mine and the loud beat of my heart in my ears.

“Are you okay?” His voice in my ear was rough. “Hurt anywhere?”

I shook my head, my brain still ringing from the effects of my orgasm, my heart shuddering, pleasure swooping around inside me. Caleb shifted, pulling away, and I shivered yet again at the loss of his warmth. But then his hands were back, undoing the tie around my wrists and getting rid of the gag.

“Lie still,” he murmured and then a warm cloth slid between my butt cheeks, easing sore flesh and sensitive tissues.

A delicious lassitude crept through me, and I lay bonelessly on the couch with my eyes closed, letting him take care of me. I felt sleepy and warm and more relaxed than I’d felt in years.

Finally, Caleb’s arms came around me and I opened my eyes to find myself picked up off the couch and held against the heat of his bare chest.

“Where are we going?” I asked sleepily, relaxing against his shoulder.

He glanced down at me, his black eyes glinting. “To bed.”

“Oh good.” I sighed, loving the feel of his bare skin against mine. “I’m tired.”

He gave me a wicked grin. “I didn’t say we were going to sleep.”

And I felt the electric jolt, a pulse of lightning down my spine.

“Good,” I said.

22

Caleb

---