Page 82 of His Own Heaven

Lucy chuckled quietly then rested her head on his shoulder again, poked at the rip in his jeans. “Thanks, Toby. Let me have a think and I’ll get back to you.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

The closer they got to Toby’s family home, the more Lucy seemed to sweat, and by the time they arrived, she felt like she needed a shower to rinse off the evidence of her anxiety.

Had it really only been two hours since she’d leapt into Toby’s truck with a smile and a can-do attitude? Ha! She was more nervous than a first-time climber tackling an overhang.

“What if they don’t like me?” she murmured, letting her gaze drift towards the house as Toby parked his truck.

It was a beautiful house built from hand-cut stone with an aged timber veranda running along the front of it. A low wall, also made of stone, hemmed the property and helped contain a gorgeous garden overflowing with roses and agapanthus and a bunch of other plants she couldn’t name if her life depended on it. She made a mental note to learn more about gardening.

“Impossible,” Toby said with a smile. He squeezed her knee. “They’ll adore you.”

But his assurance did nothing to settle Lucy’s nerves. She chewed her bottom lip. “You don’t know that.”

“I do know that.”

“Becauseyouadore me?” Her words sounded snippy in her distress.

Toby’s heavy sigh was all the warning she got before his hand fisted in her hair and she was forced to look at him.

Pain flared across her scalp and sent tingles down her spine. “Master,” she gasped.

“What have I told you about belittling yourself?” he asked, his voice dropping a full octave as his free hand closed around her throat.

Lucy swallowed hard against his hand, leaned into its controlling warmth and let the dominant action calm her. “That you’ll punish me,” she breathed.

“Yes. I’ll punish you. But I think what you really need right now is a reminder of who you belong to.” His steely gaze flicked over her, where she sat with her seat belt still buckled like a safety line anchoring her in place. “Unbuckle that belt,” he demanded. “And spread your thighs.”

Not daring to disobey him in case he withheld her punishment—something she needed to ease her mind—Lucy did as she was told.

Toby dropped the hand from her throat, slid it under her skirt and along her inner thigh, gently brushed his rough palm over her soft flesh again and again, back and forth until she was so on edge waiting for the slap or the pinch or whatever he was going to do to her, that she didn’t anticipate him nudging her panties aside and spearing two fingers inside her.

A surprised whimper escaped her lips followed immediately by a wanton moan. “Yes.”

Toby leaned his forehead against her temple and she felt his breath brush against her jaw, shivered with wanting. “Who’s going to take care of you, baby?” he half whispered, half growled, as though he too were having trouble controlling himself.

“You are, Master,” she said, clamping down on his fingers.

“And who will you turn to when you’re afraid or unsure?”

He pushed his thumb against her clit and she gulped down a lungful of air, felt the burn of her desire heat her blood and scald her from the inside out. “You. I’ll turn to you,” she said on the exhale.

“Good girl,” Toby cooed, languidly stroking his fingers in and out of her wet heat, winding her higher, tighter. “You’re not alone, Lucy. You never need to be alone again. Say it.”

“I’m not alone,” she whispered, her breath stuttering in and out of her. “I never need to be alone again.”

Toby pressed his forehead harder against her temple and his mouth moulded to her ear. “Tell me why,” he whispered, his breathing as uneven as hers.

His fingers quickened their pace, made it difficult to concentrate.

“Because you’re here with me.” Her fingers curled into the leather of the seat beneath her, stopping her from sliding to the floor of the truck. “Because you promised me.”

“What did I promise?”

Lucy thought back to Monday night when she’d flipped out before their date and answered the door in her underwear. She remembered his hands on her body as he’d pinned her to the wall of her bedroom, then again as she’d sat in his lap on the bed.

His touch had been gentle, sensual, grounding. His voice a soothing caress for her soul, his words filled with more understanding than she’d ever heard from anyone before.

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