BeyondAddiction (19 page)

He gave her a few minutes, idly lapping at her nipples and
down through the valley of her breasts to her navel before he began again at
her very core. When he fastened his teeth on her clit, so sensitive from the
vibrator and two climaxes, she gave a small scream and tried to twist herself
away from him.

“Uh-uh-uh,” he cautioned. “I’m far from through yet. Lie
still.”

But he knew he wasn’t going to last as long as he’d hoped.
His cock was sending him urgent messages, piercing his brain.

She made little indistinguishable noises when he moved away,
her breathing quickening, her legs straining against their bindings. Lifting
the dildo from the nightstand, he slid it slowly into her pussy, pushing in
just an inch at a time. He turned it on at a low hum when it was still only
partially inserted, and once more she tried to twist away.

He slapped her exposed ass cheeks, both of them, hard.

“I didn’t tell you to move,” he warned. “I want you just as
I placed you, helpless and open for my pleasure.” He moved up her body so his
mouth was a mere breath from hers. “And girl? I want you to remember this. All
of this comes from my heart. Here, in this room, you are my complete sub. To do
with as I wish. But all you have to do is use your safe word, anytime, and it
all stops.”

He was reminding her that with him, there were limits and
boundaries. And choice. All she had to do was exercise it. He waited, edgy, to
see what she’d do.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked. “You only have to tell
me.”

If he was pushing her too far, with all the emotional
turmoil going on, he’d back off. But it was that very turmoil he was trying to
wipe away.

“Don’t stop,” she said at last in a very faint voice.
“Please, Sir. Don’t stop now.”

He let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.
“Very well, then.”

When the dildo filled her completely, he turned the
vibration level up a notch and reattached the little toy to her clit.
Immediately her body jolted again. Twitched. She strained to close her thighs
but he held them ruthlessly apart.

As she shook and jolted, he braced an arm across her bent
legs and slowly glided the metal wand from her ass. Testing her opening, he
satisfied himself that enough of the salve still remained to lubricate her and
slid one finger into her dark tunnel.

“Aaaaaahhhh!”

The cry ripped from her mouth, her head thrashing back and
forth and she did her best, in her awkward position, to push down on his
probing digit. Curling it just slightly, he scraped her hot tunnel, sparking
the nerve endings. Perspiration covered her body as she tried to deal with the
dual assault. Cord shifted just enough so he could take the very tip of one
nipple into his mouth and bite down gently.

The sensation was enough to tip her over the edge again, her
body convulsing wildly as shudders rippled through her like undulating waves.
He rode her through it, backing off only when she lay panting on the bed, eyes
closed, breasts heaving as she fought to regain her breath.

He eased the vibrator from her body, removed the little toy
on her clit and grabbed aloe wipes from the nightstand drawer to clean them
both.

Then, while she remained trussed, he rolled on a condom,
pressed his hands to the insides of her thighs and pushed into her wet channel
with one hard thrust.

“I can’t!” she cried, her breathing erratic. “Cord, I can’t
do it again!”

“Yes, you can,” he insisted. “One more. For me. For us. Obey
your Sir.”

He’d thought to establish an easy rhythm, build up to it gradually,
but he was so damn hard from all the things he’d done to her, his balls so
tight and aching, that slow was no longer in his vocabulary. He drove into her
again and again, the head of his cock bumping against her cervix. With each
thrust she cried out as if in protest, but the liquid of her pussy bathing his
shaft told him blatantly that she was ready again. For him.

The muscles in his back tightened with the familiar signal
and his balls drew up. Desperate to have her come at the same time, he reached
between them for her tormented clit and rubbed the little nub of flesh,
watching her eyes and her body for signals that she was close. When the walls
of her pussy tightened around him, he increased his pace.

In seconds he exploded, semen pulsing into the thin latex
sheath in great spurts as her walls gripped and milked him.

When there was nothing left of either of them, he pulled
from her body slowly. He took a moment to dispose of the condom before
unfastening the wrist and ankle cuffs and tossing them aside. He extended each
leg carefully, lowering it to the bed and massaging the muscles. When he was
satisfied she wasn’t in distress, he lifted her from the bed.

“Time to take care of you.” He brushed his lips over hers.

In the bathroom, he sat her on the vanity stool for a
moment, making sure she was balanced before pouring her a glass of water from
the pitcher he’d had in readiness.

“Drink slowly,” he urged, arm around her, supporting her as
he held the glass to her lips.

When he was satisfied she’d hydrated her body enough, he
lifted her again and stepped into the tub. He’d run it boiling hot so now it
was just the right degree of warm. Settling into place, he arranged her between
his thighs and tilted her head back against his chest. He poured body wash with
aloe vera into the palm of his hand, worked it into a lather and began
massaging every inch of her body.

Cord took his time, cleansing her inside and out, careful
not to let her slip beneath the surface in her weakened state. When he’d
finished, he punched the button to turn on the jets and leaned back, Fallon
resting against his chest with his arms around her.

Tonight he’d felt an obsessive need to imprint himself on
her. To find a way to tie her to him irrevocably. But the bitter fact was, the
only one who could make that choice was Fallon. And it frightened him to think
she was slipping away, despite his best efforts.

When they’d gotten out of the tub and he’d dried them both,
Cord tucked her into bed. Curling his body around Fallon’s, he mentally crossed
his fingers that this evening was enough to break the hold Brian Willoughby
still seemed to have on her. But the sick feeling lodged in his stomach told
Cord he might have already lost.

Fallon looked at her cell phone as if it might bite her.
This was the third time Brian had called her today. She’d let the first two
calls go to voicemail but now temptation was sitting on her shoulder like a
troublesome imp. And oh, evil was the word of the day. Most definitely. She
cursed herself for not blocking his number but that tiny portion of her brain
that still belonged to him had somehow stopped her from doing it.

Why is it that evil imbeds itself so incipiently? Is so
tempting? Like candy you know is bad for you?

Her finger hovered over the bar to answer the call. Knowing
she shouldn’t do it, she still pressed the bar and lifted the phone to her ear.

“Hello?”

“You ran away before we could get to the good part
yesterday.” Brian’s voice vibrated in her ear, the all too familiar, low,
seductive sound of it wickedly thrilling.

Immediately her nipples hardened and the walls of her pussy
contracted. She tried desperately to conjure up an image of Cord, to remember
how wonderful it had been just last night. Anything to blunt the effect Brian
had on her, but she felt as if that image was already wavering.

“I—had to leave,” she stammered.

“It occurred to me that perhaps I was approaching this all
wrong,” he continued, his voice almost a purr. “It’s been a long time since
you—left. I need to remind you of what brought you to me in the first place.”

“Brian—”

“Don’t interrupt.” The tone was sharp, but softened at once
with his next words, the hypnotic timber of it reaching her even through the
wireless connection. “So let’s try this.” His voice deepened even more. “I’d
like to take you to lunch. Just lunch. Perhaps you can tell me about this man
who has you in such thrall. If you convince me this is what you really want,
then we might at least part friends. So…lunch. Today.”

What could happen in a public place? They’d be in a
restaurant full of people. She could get up and leave any time she wanted to.
She managed to break through his mental hold yesterday, after all.

Barely…

But I
did
.
I’m strong enough to do this.
I’ll think about Cord. And maybe this lunch will be the chance for me to shut
this door once and for all.

If not, if she still had this sick addiction to Brian
Willoughby, if she couldn’t walk away from him forever, then Fallon knew she
didn’t deserve Cord. She needed to leave him and let him find happiness with
someone better than her.

She blew out a breath. “Okay. Fine. Where and what time?”

“How about the Cimarron?” Now he sounded sly. “Where it all
started. We can revisit that meal.”

Her stomach knotted. In the hotel? Where he’d first seduced
her into his perverted idea of the world of bondage?

“I’m not sure about that. How about some other place?”

“Afraid of me?” he taunted, his smooth voice reaching
through the connection to wrap itself around her. “I wanted to revisit the good
memories we made there. You’ll be free to leave whenever you choose.”

Would she, though? Really? She let out another long breath.
She had to confront this one way or another.

“No. I don’t think so.” If he really meant what he said,
he’d change the location. She couldn’t walk into that hotel again. “Pick
another place.” She forced herself to wait patiently for his answer.

“Fine,” he said at last. “How about Bronte’s at Frontier
Suites?” His voice took on a nasty tone. “That suit your tastes?”

“Yes. Good. Thank you.” He probably owned that damn place
too, but at least it didn’t hold bitter memories. And she’d set the time. “One
o’clock.”

“One o’clock,” he agreed.

Then he was gone, no goodbye or anything.

Typical.

Fallon knew if she were smart she would tell Cord what was
happening and make him understand that she needed to do this. But she was sure
there was no way he’d truly comprehend the situation. A decent Dom like Cord
wouldn’t understand her sick fascination for someone like Brian. She barely
understood it herself. One of the things Claire had hammered home again and
again was the fact that Brian had fucked with her mind. That it hadn’t been
just her body he’d seduced. Like a hypnotist, he’d drawn her in a little at a
time until the trap was sprung and she was caught without a will of her own.

No, she’d have to keep this to herself. It was important to
Fallon that she handle this alone. That she prove to herself she didn’t have to
hide behind Cord; didn’t need his help to make this crucial break.

She’d go and have lunch, sever this invisible bond once and
for all. Then she could go home to a man who respected her and treated her as a
sub should be treated. And get on with her life. Brian wasn’t an idiot. He
didn’t like to lose but surely he’d see that pursuing her was a waste of time.

She hoped.

* * * * *

It was actually closer to one fifteen when she reached the
hotel and the entrance to the restaurant. Brian detested being kept waiting.
Said he didn’t stand for others wasting his time. But for Fallon this was a
little act of independence, letting him know she really was no longer under his
control. If he showed his anger she’d just leave quickly. He wouldn’t attack
her or make a scene in public. Not when it would affect his image.

Besides, he was as good at seduction as he was at brute
force. So today, she was sure, would be all about the preliminary steps in the
dance. Testing to see if he could still arouse feelings and responses.

Reminding me of the things that I craved in the
beginning.

Damn it anyway.

This is a big mistake. Huge mistake. But I need to
convince myself he truly no longer has any hold on me.

I’m doing this for Cord too.

When she entered the restaurant, she started to give her
name to the hostess but the maître d’ rushed to greet her.

“Madame Crowe? Mr. Willoughby is waiting.” He bowed
slightly. “This way, please.”

She tensed at the words, remembering times she’d disobeyed
and how angry he’d been. But they were in public. And he was planning to throw
an invisible silken rope around her and reel her in. So no, if he was angry it
wouldn’t show. Not yet.

The maître d’ led her past tables of people dining in the
quiet atmosphere of the main room. Silverware clinked softly and crystal
tinkled lightly as a counterpoint to the hushed tones of conversation. She
glanced around as she walked, taking in the décor. Another restaurant with a
Western theme, though less showy. The space boasted tasteful, iconic symbols of
Texas. If she really thought about it, Brian wasn’t much different from the
early cattle barons who’d carved out the state. They had been vicious,
voracious and arrogant, building their fortunes on the misfortunes of others.
And bedding every woman who came within fifty feet of them.

She swallowed a sigh. Why hadn’t she been smart enough to
see him for what he was in the beginning, and not for the romantic figure she’d
believed him to be? She’d just been so flattered that he’d paid attention to
her
,
been attracted to
her
, that she’d let herself fall into hell without
looking for a safety net.

The maître d’ ushered her back to where the room curved into
an L shape, to a booth where they were nearly hidden from sight. Of course. How
like Brian to arrange for such privacy. If she had any sense she’d leave right
now, but she’d convinced herself this was do or die.

She prayed it wasn’t the latter.

Brian stood as she approached the booth and discreetly
handed a folded bill to her escort. “Thanks, Lawrence.”

The man bowed himself away.

Fallon was trembling as she slid into the booth opposite him
and clenched her hands in her lap so he wouldn’t notice. As she expected, he
didn’t show any impatience with her tardiness. Yet a tiny thread of familiar
fear coupled with the erotic anticipation of punishment wiggled its way through
her. Knots tightened in her stomach and she felt slightly nauseous, even as the
crotch of her thong dampened.

Goddamn it!

She couldn’t deny the man was handsome. He had the kind of
looks that attracted women who wanted a little something wild in their lives.
His blond hair, as always, was expensively cut to look casual. His custom navy
suit fit perfectly over his broad shoulders and muscular body—a body whose
naked image suddenly slammed into her mind.

His face showed absolutely no emotion but the heat of his
blue eyes was just as penetrating. When he looked at her, she was sure he could
see right into the heart of her and know what she was thinking.

Brian rested his hand, palm up, on the table, a silent
signal for her to put her hand in his. As if it had a mind of its own, her
right hand disentangled itself from her left, lifted from her lap and rested
atop his palm. She hated the fact the shakes hadn’t gone away and he could
plainly see what he did to her. His mouth curved in a satisfied smile as he
rubbed the pad of his thumb over her pulse point.

“I can feel how fast your heart is racing.” He pressed on
the throbbing vein. “Is that fear? Expectation? Excitement? You still feel that
pull, Fallon. You can try to lie to me but your body tells me the truth.”

She never
had
been able to lie to him. After so many
months of torturous intimacy, after acts she’d never thought to participate in
with another human being, her body had no secrets from him. Already she was
having trouble calling back the memories of last night with Cord.

Damn him! And damn
me
!

“It’s nothing,” she said. “I’ve been rushing. That’s why I’m
late.” She tried to pull her hand back but he closed his fingers around her
wrist.

“You know how I hate to be kept waiting. How valuable my
time is.” His grip tightened. “I’m disappointed that so many habits I ingrained
in you have faded since you…left.” He paused. “But I’ll excuse it this time.”

This time? This was going to be the only time.
No more
,
she whispered in her head. But as his fingers played with her hands and her
wrist, stroking and squeezing, her long-programmed body leaped to life.

He released her hand when a waiter appeared at their booth
bearing a silver bucket of ice, a stand and a bottle of wine. He held it label
first to Brian, who nodded his head. Then the routine pouring of a tiny bit of
liquid, the obligatory tasting, Brian nodding again. Fallon swallowed back her
anxiety, torn between the urge to flee and the surging desire to stay. Watching
the waiter pour the amber liquid into crystal goblets, she was seized with an
urge to down the entire contents of the bottle.

Mistake. This was a mistake.

“Thank you.” Brian nodded at the waiter, who bowed slightly
and disappeared. “This calls for a toast. Lift your glass, Fallon.”

Her name sounded so strange on his lips. When they were
together, he’d almost never called her anything but Slave. She’d almost
forgotten she had a real name. But today he was the Brian whose spell she’d
fallen under in the beginning. The seducer. The tempter. The persuader.

He tapped his glass to hers, which was still sitting on the
table. “Lift your glass and acknowledge the toast.”

His voice was so bewitching, delivering an order but in a
way she couldn’t refuse. Hoping she didn’t spill any of the wine, Fallon did as
he asked.

“To us,” he said, his eyes twin blue flames.

She said nothing, just took a sip of the wine. The icy
liquid felt good sliding down her throat, easing the constricted muscles. She
couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away from Brian’s. She was dismayed at the speed
with which she was becoming spellbound by him; by the thought of the dangerous
pleasures he could offer.

He lowered his glass to the table and recaptured her hand.
His thumb stroked her knuckles in a familiar gesture and his stare burned into
her like a laser.

His touch was electric, even more so than earlier. Nerve
endings snapped to attention and every muscle in her body clenched.

“I can see you’ve been well,” he said. “If what you have now
is what you want, then I’m…happy for you.”

Did he mean it? No, this was another trick. Already his
touch was sending sensations straight to her clit, his voice mesmerizing. That
low, deep sound that vibrated through her body.

She tried to pull her hand away but he tightened his hold
just enough to keep it in place. Apparently all it took was that one touch to
bring back all the intense memories of pleasure. How conditioned she had been
to endure anything as long as he eventually gave his approval, along with
mind-shattering orgasms.

All the time away from that life—away from
him
—didn’t
seem to have cured her at all.

I knew this would happen—yet here I am. And I can’t seem
to make myself get up and walk away. I’m pathetic, that’s what I am. And
worthless.

“Remember the night we spent in my suite?” His voice was
low, deep, an erotic hum. “That was the first night I restrained you. Tied you
with cords nearly as silken as your skin.” His thumb brushed back and forth
over her palm. “I wish I’d taken a picture then, your naked body ready for
whatever I chose to give you.”

Fallon took another sip of her wine, her body responding to
the hypnotic quality of his words. The past year and a half might not have
happened at all.

She wanted him, and the dark hedonism he offered.

Brian leaned even closer. “When I close my eyes I can still
see you on your knees that first time. Naked, my cock in your mouth. Still
remember your pleasure when I spanked you, and
my
pleasure when I
realized how much the pain excited you. The way you loved it. You were wetter
than a river for me.”

God, she remembered. She’d been so turned-on by his
commanding presence, she would have agreed to anything. By the time he’d placed
the first strike on her ass she’d felt her own juices wetting her thighs. Now
as the wine warmed her, a familiar sizzle of need, of excitement, coursed
through her veins.