Caught Up In You 4: The Point of No Return (Edgeplay) (9 page)

 Poised on the edge, I’m breathing hard against my gag. His hot palm cups me but doesn’t entice me any further and slowly, I pull back from the cliff, still hungry for him, but not as desperate.

 Satisfaction gleams in his eyes as he stands up. Unzipping his pants, he frees his massive cock and aligns it with my wet core. Now I see why the bench is so high. At this level he can fuck me standing up. His thumbs trace the bite marks on my thighs. “You’re going to have some bruises here.”

 Good. I want to see the signs of his possession.

 I shiver as the blunt head of his shaft nudges my clit. I don’t know if I can resist coming if he pounds it in me, but I want to feel his hardness inside me all the same. With a deep, hard shove, he buries himself inside me.

 He moves slowly at first, lips feathering delicate kisses over my ankles while his cock stirs my wet tunnel. “So good,” He thrusts a little harder, shoves a little deeper inside me. “I can feel that plug in your ass. It was an excellent choice.” Another hard stroke and this time his thumb grazes my clit.

 I clamp down hard on him, on the toy and am unable to let go. If he moves again I’ll come so hard I might never stop. Sweat covers my skin and I try to beg him with my eyes, tell him I’m poised.

 His grin is evil as he leans over me, bracing himself on the table. “Oh no, you’ll take it. You’ll take it all, take me deeper.” Pinching my clit hard between thumb and forefinger, he fucks me in earnest.

 A desperate noise escapes around the ball in my mouth, a plea though I don’t know what I’m begging for, him to stop, to let me go, to let me come or to keep on with his punishing rhythm until the end of time.

 Sweat slicks his forehead, across his broad chest. I want to lick it, to taste the effort he’s putting into fucking me. My tongue actually darts out, forgetting the gag for a moment and I make a muffled protest.

 The grip on my clit is like a vice. He’s helping me, I realize, helping me take my penance fuck without coming. The thought makes me clench and he throws back his head a second before he jerks his cock free.

 His free hand eases him into orgasm. Tendons stand out on his neck as he watches himself come all over me. His hoarse cry echoes of the cement walls of the basement. I shiver as hot seamen splashes against my skin.

 Panting, he leans his forehead against my left leg. I wriggle beneath him and he lets go of my clit. I scream against the gag as blood rushes back into the bit of flesh.  It’s not pleasure but pain, true discomfort making the bud throb until tears leak out from behind my eyelids.

 “Punishment over,” Connor rasps before again falling to his knees at the end of the table once more. His flattened tongue laves over my abused flesh, without pressure or any kind of movement, just an open mouth kiss covering my sex. The light touch is exactly what I heed and I buck closer, the wetness of my pussy sliding along that of his mouth.

 I groan when he grips the ring of the plug and moves it inside me, fucking my ass with it. He laps gently between my legs, cleaning his seed, my juices, our sweat, everything away. Purifying me. I truly feel redeemed.

 The slide of the toy and his skilled mouth is too much. I arch up off the table. Two thick fingers are shoved within my greedy channel again, hooking upward to rub my G-spot.

 “Now Baily. Come for me now.” Again he licks my swollen clit, working me hard with everything he’s got.

 Full to bursting, I come so hard my vision tunnels. My last thought before I zone out completely is
he forgives me.

 You have got to get your priorities in order.
Snarkarella sighs.

****

 When I come to, I’m swaddled in a fleece blanket, surrounded by Connor’s warmth. We’re lying on a small couch, me nestled between his big body and the plush cushions. His heart beats steadily, lulling me into a sense of total security. The ball gag and butt plug are gone and if my limbs didn’t feel like they weighed a thousand pounds I could move them.

 His hand runs along my back, gently following the path of my spine. He stills when I shifty my head to look up at him. “Hi.”

 “Welcome back,” he squeezes me to him. He’s naked now too, completely so.

 I sink my teeth into my lower lip, unsure of what to say after the single most intense experience of my life.

 “Have some water.” He helps me sit up and reaches for a bottle. “You need to stay hydrated.”

 I take it from him with a shaking hand, this man who cares for me so tenderly, so thoroughly. He knows what I need before I do, he sets the rules, makes the decisions, carries the burden on his massive shoulders. I fell in love with him first, made a commitment to him first and it’s not fair I don’t get to keep him. Tears track down my face.

 “What is it, love?” Tilting my chin, he studies my face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

 I’m not sure how he’ll react, but I need to tell him. “I don’t want you to go.”

 “Go?” he repeats the word with a puzzled scowl. “Go where?”

 For once he’s not reading my mind. Sipping the water because I know he wants me to I say, “You, as you are right now. He’s just not the same.” Guilt flays me even thinking it. The other Connor is a good man, kind, gentle and he treats me like royalty. It’s my damage that that isn’t enough.

 I see the light come on then his expression shuts down to a blank stare. “Is that why you wouldn’t agree to marry him?”

 I nod miserably. “I know, it’s crazy, you’re you whichever way you are it’s just….” I spin my hand in the air, hoping it’ll help me make my point somehow. “Everything’s so much clearer with you.”

 He nods, his expression turned inwards. “Is that why you made the video? To call me back?”

 Shaking my head I say, “I thought that’s what he—what you—wanted. Not the video part, that was my idea, but the plug. Why else would he have it dropped off in a gift box on my front door? Right after telling me to wear something special? More mixed signals, more chaos. It’s exhausting.”

 He scowls. “I didn’t send that to you.”

 “The other you, I mean.” Confusion, thy name is Connor Edge.

 Gripping my shoulders he turns me to face him, his face a thundercloud ready to release a furious storm. “Baily, listen to me carefully. I didn’t send you anything. Neither of us did.”

 I blink, truly taken back. “That’s not possible. It was on a box, on my front doorstep. I thought…I thought security had just left it on your orders.”

 Slowly, he shakes his head. “It’s not from me.”

 I swallow and huddle tighter in the blanket, truly afraid. “Then who sent it?”

Chapter Seven

 I
hide in the master bathroom while Connor meets with security. Chances are I’ll never be able to look Justin or any of the others in the eye knowing they were told about the butt plug someone delivered to my front door. And that I went ahead and used because I thought it was from my kinky lover. With no idea how much Connor is telling them, I’m afraid the answer might be “everything”.

 Which is way more than I can handle.

 Connor comes in and sits on the edge of the tub, his expression grim. “There were no signs of an intruder. None of the security teams saw anything out of the ordinary yesterday morning.”

 The warm bath water suddenly feels chilly. “Does that mean it was an inside job?”

 His lips twitch and I can tell from the sparkle in his eye I’ve amused him. “No, it’s not an inside job. More likely it was someone who is familiar with the estate. I’m going to need you to make up a list of everyone who has been on the property in the past five years.”

 My jaw drops. “I can’t remember all those people. There were parties and visits, all sorts of landscaping crews. Your soiree alone had at least two hundred guests. It’ll take forever and I’m sure I’ll miss some people.”

 He nods, his gaze focused elsewhere. “I’ll cover anyone here since I took ownership. Concentrate on before then. You’ll have plenty of time on the jet. We’re leaving for Dubai tonight.”

 Sitting up, I move to get out of the tub. “I’ll need to pack.”

 Connor helps me step out and has a towel ready. “You’re not going anywhere near that cottage tonight, or any time until we’re sure the grounds are clear. I packed a bag for you while I was over there.”

 “You did it yourself?” I shiver, having been duped already tonight.

 He nods. “I remember how you reacted when he had someone pack for you. Get dressed, we’re going wheels up in an hour.”

 My suitcase is open on the bed. Wanting to be fully covered I pull on jeans a tank top and a baggy sweater. Connor watches me like a hawk as I poke through the bag for socks and sneakers.

 “I really shouldn’t just leave like this. I don’t even have a passport yet. Plus my grandfather—”

 “Baily, he doesn’t know what decade it is. The home has your number, you can call him every day. I promise, as soon as we get back we’ll settle him in over there. And I’ve taken care of your passport.” Gripping my wet hair in his fist he tilts my head back until our gazes lock.  

 “Connor.” The little wiggle in my voice breaks on his name, betraying my anxiety.

 “Keeping you safe is my number one priority. No arguing. Get dressed. I have some calls to make.” Planting a searing kiss on my mouth, he releases my hair and zips up my bag, taking it with him.

 After braiding my wet hair, I yank on my socks and tie my sneakers. If I think too much, I’ll have a panic attack and that’s just one more thing Connor will have to deal with.

 Opening the door, I step out into the hall. Connor is muttering something into the phone. I hear him say, “That’s it for now,” before hanging up.

 Pocketing his phone, he then takes my hand in his and leads me down the stairs and out into the waiting limo. It’s a silent ride to the airport. True to his word, Connor does indeed have a passport for me, the same gawd-awful photo from my driver’s license. I shake my head and put it in my small tote bag that also contains Simon, my cell phone and a bridal magazine.

 I pick it out and turn to look at Connor who is on the phone again. “You’re incredibly not-subtle.”

 He mouths
semantics.
I turn away so he can’t see me bite my lip. In his mind, and in mine, we are already united. An actual piece of paper is just semantics. Will the other Connor understand that?

 The limo takes us into the city, straight to LaGuardia. Connor escorts me directly onto the jet, much larger than the small plane that took us to the Hamptons. It’d have to be for an overseas flight.

 I sit, staring out onto the darkened runway unable to hold a though. Connor speaks with the flight attendant and then disappears into the cockpit.

 Drumming my fingers on my knee I wait, trying desperately not to think. Anxiety is making a meal out of my insides. I can’t help but think something awful will happen to Pops while I’m gone.

 
If I had a dollar for every time I gave you some good advice and you ignored it then got yourself into another “situation” I’d own a private jet too.
Snarkarella grumbles.

 I’d like to argue with her, say this isn’t my fault. But just like Connor’s domineering side, you can’t reason with her.

 Connor sits next to me, taking my hand in his. “It’ll be fine.”