Page 8 of Hawke

“You’re never to speak unless spoken to, and asked to verbally respond. The only exception will be the word ‘red.’ If anything I do to you at any time becomes too much to handle, I expect you to use your safe word.” I watched her nod again. With any luck, we were hopefully starting to get somewhere. “Your only two options while in my dungeon are to take whatever I deem necessary to give you, or to safe word out. Lastly, you’re never allowed to come without my permission. Your orgasms are no longer yours. They’re mine to give or withhold, however I see fit. Any sins on your part will certainly guarantee you the latter.”

She chewed nervously on her lip as she non-verbally expressed understanding of my rules. I was pleased enough to have that unpleasantness over and done with. This submissive had no idea how lucky she was to have been given a second chance with me. I’d never given another to anyone in all the years I’d been in the lifestyle. Hopefully, she wouldn’t make me regret making an exception.

Wishing to proceed, I brought my hands to her perfect breasts, and I cupped them softly. A sharp exhale left her lips, and I paused to make sure it would be the only sound to do so. They were an adequate size, and each firm globe fit the palm of my hand perfectly. They were high on her chest with very little bounce.

I moved my thumb, brushing the small spikes over the tips of her nipples. The hardened buds would be even more perfect if pierced. Just the thought of a weighted barbell between the center had me growing painfully harder.

I ignored my own rising need, however, and continued with the sensual torment. I made sure to simply graze her skin so she’d feel my touch, but not enough to actually draw blood.Yet. Back and forth…back and forth. I couldn’t get enough of those ripe peaks.

Lowering my head, I captured one of them between my teeth and gave it a hard tug. I could sense the restraint it took for her to remain silent. My tongue swirled around her elongated flesh, all the while continuing to massage the fleshier parts of her breasts with the spiked gloves.

Only when I’d tasted my fill did I move away from her again. By this time, her breathing had accelerated more. When my head had been close to her chest moments earlier, I’d heard the erratic beating of her heart. It was the beginning stage of fear, which was the one thing that fueled me like nothing else. Pain and terror were aphrodisiacs to me.

“We’ve reached the punishment stage of tonight’s scene. Remember, not a sound,” I warned, then swatted the side of her left breast. The indentations from the spikes could be seen, but that wasn’t what I desired. I repeated the action on the right one, getting the same result. Finally, I slapped her breasts again, this time with enough force to cause drops of blood to rise to the surface of her skin.

She was paralyzed at that point, frozen in place, as I slapped her tits repeatedly. The coppery scent of her blood mingled perfectly with that of her arousal. For a fleeting moment, I had wanted to see her face, more specifically her eyes, as they glazed over in ecstasy. It was something I’d never wanted to do with any submissive, and I had no idea why I even considered it now.

Pushing that thought out of my mind, I swatted each breast a couple more times before taking a few steps back to admire my handiwork. The sides of her breasts were dotted with pinprick-sized drops of blood. It wasn’t enough. Wanting to see more of my marks on her body, I dragged my gloved palms down the taut flesh of her abdomen, finally stopping when I’d reached the top of her thighs.

It drew attention to her long, slender limbs, ones I wanted to wrap around my shoulders as I feasted on her wetness. The urge to hold back became too strong, and I quickly shed both the leather from my hands and my waist.

My cock throbbed with the need to be buried inside of her, but she hadn’t earned that privilege yet. I fisted my flesh, giving it a few rough strokes before bending down to remove the metal cuffs from her ankles. First one, and then the other, until I’d finally freed her legs from their prison, and placed them atop my shoulders. When I rose back to full height, her drenched pussy was glistening. Moving close enough to run my tongue over her clit, I teased her for a few seconds before dragging it lower, finally spearing her core.

Her legs shook with each lick. Just like her tears, other parts of her were equally addictive. I ate at her pussy like a man possessed, getting even harder at the sound of the metal jangling of her cuffed wrists. There was no escape from the sexual torment I planned to deliver, and whoever this woman was, knew that. It didn’t stop her from trying, though, because she squirmed until I started to nip at her lips and clit.

“Oh God,” she cried, the sound giving the equivalent effect of being doused with ice water.

The female gasped as soon as she realized what she’d done. It was too late for her to take it back. I removed my head from between her thighs, then placed her feet back onto the raised platform.

“Someone will be in shortly to help you down from the cross. At which point, I want you to leave, and you’re never to darken the doorstep of my dungeon again.”

I put my pants back on, then tucked my hard cock back into them. I now had two alternatives in which to rectify my current state, but none would involve the woman who dared to defy me for a second time. I exited the room and almost immediately came across one of the dungeon staff members. “There’s a woman in room twelve. Please help her down from the cross, then show her the door.”

6 – HAWKE

PRESENT DAY

Iremained in my office, reliving that night. Having never gotten her name, I had no idea who she was when I’d first seen her. Now that I knew, there’d be no way to pick up where we had left off. My reputation was etched in stone, events from my past shaping me into the man I became. She couldn’t handle me twelve months earlier, and she wouldn’t be able to now. It was a shame because I knew the gorgeous body hidden beneath her layer of winter clothing. I also knew how soft her lips were when pressed against mine.

There were many nights when I would remember someone’s name, or their face, as I jacked myself raw. So much of that had been a result of pure hate and shame, but neither of those were things Charlotte Maxwell inspired inside of me. Refusing to allow my hand to move, I realized it had been a few weeks since I had last been with a woman.

Opening a new club in a place away from the one I had once co-owned sucked during this phase, but it wouldn’t be permanent. I’d find other submissives once Syn opened. I had no plans to change anything with the way I practiced my craft, though. It’d worked for me ever since I was seventeen, and ten years later, it’d do the same. There was no use in trying to fix something that wasn’t broken. I knew that, yet I still couldn’t get the taste of her out of my mouth.

“Get a grip,” I chided myself as I got up in hopes that a change of scenery would rid her from my head. I paced back and forth before stepping into the en-suite bathroom. I ran some cold water, and even it did little to help. Closing my eyes, I kept them that way before slowly reopening them to stare at my reflection in the mirror.

It’d taken me a while to be able to look at myself and not be overcome with rage. So much anger and hatred had filled me for so many years. I’d been slowly dying over so many of them that when I was finally released from the hell I was raised in, I was more upset to have survived it. Life, and mine, at that time would’ve been enough to make anyone want to throw in the towel. I almost did.

Staring at my reflection, I could still see the scars of a past better left forgotten. While my arms were sleeves of ink, my chest and neck covered in similar art, the large one on the left side was the most meaningful one to me. I had the heart of a lion, so having it covering mine was a daily reminder that I might’ve gone through hell, but I’d come out on top.

No one else knew the demons I carried with me, and because of the tattoos, no one would ever see them either. No one except for Caine. If it hadn’t been for him, I wouldn’t be standing where I was today. Our friendship had been forged by pain and tragedy. We’d been by each other’s side for so long now, it almost felt strange not having him here in Denver.

I finally turned away and returned to my office to find a few new emails in my inbox. Most of them were from either contractors or suppliers. Just the remaining checklist of outstanding items was enough to make my head throb. There was still so much to get done.

I skimmed through them until seeing one from Platinum Dreams. My mind immediately turned back to Charlotte Maxwell. I could easily recall the way she’d responded to my touch so perfectly. Damn, I wanted to see her naked and bound in front of me once again.

I could still remember the crimson drops sliding down her sweat dampened body. The incoherent sounds she made with each touch I’d delivered were pained, but that only seemed to turn her on even more. She was a masochist and the glove I’d used that night would’ve only been the beginning. I could’ve, and would’ve, made her hurt so badly.

“Fuck,” I cursed out loud.

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