Fever Dream (32 page)

But Petra’s place was okay. She was there with him, so even up off the ground a few stories, he felt safe. He loved spending his days with her, sleeping, eating, going to the theater, making love and playing BDSM games, and kissing her whenever and wherever he wanted. There was no hiding anymore. All through the summer tour and into the autumn season, they flirted openly during rehearsals and held hands in the halls. They made out in their dressing rooms, kissed during curtain calls, and fucked sometimes after performances, aroused by the synergy of their partnership. The tabloids ran stories on their romance for a few months and then lost interest and moved on.

But Rubio never lost interest. He waited for boredom, for the itch to sleep with other women, but it never came. He understood now about Liam and Ashleigh, the way love had changed them, because he felt very changed. All his life he’d slept around, jumping from bed to bed, looking at women as temporary and disposable. That old life seemed empty and depressing now. He was much happier with Petra.

She was so different now too, so much softer and relaxed now that Paulsen wasn’t stalking her. She’d also let go of her issues with her dad. “All the bad men out of my life,” she’d said. “Out of my life for good.” Yves promised to bar Grigolyuk from the backstage areas if not the theater audience, and he held firm on that. Perhaps someday Petra and her father would negotiate a peace, but Ruby wasn’t holding his breath. He tried hard to fill that hole where her father should have been, with love and fun times, and understanding.

Because
Jesus Cristo
, he loved filling Petra’s holes.

“Come on,” he said, leading her down the steps to Liam’s play room. They had an open invitation to come over and use it, especially since the Wilders were so busy with little Alanna, who at eight months was learning how to crawl. Rubio was sure Ash and Liam would get back into it eventually, but for now the play room was all theirs. He stripped Petra by the door, running his hands over her lithe body. He held up her silver collar with the dangling pet tag and fastened it around her neck. “Ah,
safada
,” he crooned. “My naughty girl. I’m going to hurt you today.”

“Today?” she said, pressing against him. “You hurt me every time.”

“Because you like it,” he said with a smile. He led her over to the horse by the far wall, the one they’d played on at the first party, when she showed up in the long black wig. “Stand there.” He pointed to a spot beside it and then bent to adjust a bar near the bottom. “I’m raising it up a bit so your feet can’t touch the floor. That first night...” He made a face. “I was too soft on you.”

“That was too soft? I was freaking out the entire time.”

“Because you were a scaredy vanilla girl. I was super nice to you, you know,” he said, nodding.

“I do know. We play a lot harder now. So, when did you realize I was a vanilla newbie?” she asked. “Halfway through the scene?”

He scoffed as he moved to adjust the horse on the other side. “I knew from the start.” He gave a wild laugh, remembering. “You were shaking all over. Everything. Your lips, your body, your voice. I could see you were scared to death and it turned me on so much, that you went through with it anyway.” He straightened and turned to her. “Why did you do it? Why didn’t you stop me?”

“I did stop you at the end. It got to be too much.”

“How, too much? Too much turned on?” His voice dropped lower. “You were going to come, weren’t you?”

She crossed her arms over her chest and looked embarrassed. Well, let her be embarrassed. She looked even prettier when a blush heightened the color of her cheeks. “No, no,” he scolded. “Put your arms down.” He moved to her, uncrossing them and pinning them at her side. “Don’t cover yourself. Let me look at you, beautiful girl.”

He stroked her breasts and pinched and flicked her nipples until they stood at attention. “Let’s do everything the same from that night,” he said, gazing into her eyes. “Let’s see if you remember.”

“I had clothes on that night. A bra and panties.”

“Everything the same but that,” he said, leading her over to the horse. “Up with you.”

She straddled the narrow padded top, balancing all her weight on the vee between her legs. She eased her pelvis back, trying to take some of the pressure off her pussy. “I could touch the floor that night too,” she pointed out.

“Hush.” He took her arm and tilted her forward, purposely drawing her off balance. She clenched her legs and moaned as her clit contacted the horse. “You like that?” he asked. “Does it hurt your pussy?”

“It’s—it’s uncomfortable. A little.”

“You want me to let you sit back again?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay. For now, only.” He went for some cuffs and fixed them on Petra’s wrists. This time, instead of raising her arms over her head, he cuffed them at the small of her back. He could see by her eyes she was already halfway down into sub space. Having your pussy mashed against an unforgiving surface and your hands cuffed probably had that effect.

He went for some rope and wound it through the cuffs and up through the carabiner. She gave a small sound of protest as he tightened the slack. With her arms raised behind her, she was forced forward by the pressure on her shoulders.

“You said you’d let me sit back,” she said forlornly.

“I did, for a minute or two.” He pinched her nipples, tugging both of them in a firm grip. “You be a good girl and do whatever I want. I’m in charge here. Yes?”

“Yes,” she said, squirming in the bondage.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He smiled and walked around her, tracing his fingers down the arching curve of her back. “Is better like this. Easier for me to get at your ass.” She made a whining sound that had him heading straight for his trunk of sex toys. He pulled out a thick glass plug and plenty of lube. She eyed him as he approached.

“I know for a fact you didn’t use that the first night.”

“Okay.” He changed direction, returned to his trunk. “It’s a gag for you. Too much complaining.”

“No, please. I’ll be good.” Petra hated the gag. She said it was because she wanted to be able to talk to him and kiss him, but in reality he thought she hated to drool. He’d work on it with her, showing her all the sexy things about it, but today, he relented and returned to her side.

“No more chances, okay? One more protest, one more complaint, and the gag goes on. You understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He lubed up the plug and spread her cheeks. It would be amusing, making her take the thick glass toy now that she wasn’t allowed to complain about anything. He teased her first, pushing the tip in and out, whispering dirty, sexy things. When he pressed it deeper, she mashed her lips shut in the effort not to make a sound. Her body strained and she trembled, making stifled noises. So, so sexy. He clamped a hand over her mouth as the noises rose to a hum. When it was in, she sagged in relief.

“Good girl,” he said, giving her a well-earned kiss. “Very quiet. How does that feel, having that big plug in your ass?”

She wiggled against the horse. “Your cock feels better.”

Ha, the vixen. She wasn’t getting his cock yet, not until her pretty ass was marked up a bit. He went for the same crop they’d used, and held it up before her eyes. “You remember this?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He flicked her nipples with it. The poor thing was still trying not to cry out. “You can show me how much it hurts,” he said. “I like that part. But no more whining not to have this, not to have that. Okay?”

“Yes, Sir.
Oww
.”

He brought the whippy part of the crop down on her left ass cheek. She jerked and then gasped as her pussy ground into the top of the horse. He’d barely tapped her the first time they played. Now he challenged her more, leaving red marks with every sharp strike. Her cries of pain filled his cock to bursting with pleasure. “Oh, the poor ass,” he murmured. “The poor pussy. It hurts?”

“Yes, Sir.” She drew in a deep breath. “But I’m not complaining.”

He stopped to squeeze and fondle her breasts. “No, you’re being a good girl, aren’t you? Hmm...” He went back to his trunk for a pair of clover clamps. Honestly, he hadn’t planned to torment her so much; it was just so arousing to see the changes in her. She was nothing at all like the uptight, shrinking girl he’d played with that first night. When he returned with the clamps her eyes went wide. She swallowed back any complaining words.

“I know, I know,” he soothed, tugging on the first nipple. “I know we didn’t use these either. What can I say? You’re so beautiful when you’re in pain.” He closed the clamp, drinking in her rasping groan. “And then you come anyway, because deep inside, you love it.” He attached the other clamp, jerking his cock as she shimmied around on the horse. He could see the slickness between her thighs, see the shine of it on the vinyl.

He went around the front of her and pulled her head back for a kiss. She was limp and loose, deliciously surrendered. “If you like it, show me,” he said. “Arch your ass back. Offer it for the crop. I’ll spank your ass until it’s nice and red and then...” He walked back around behind her, admiring the way she’d obediently stuck her ass out. He pressed the plug a little deeper. “And then I’ll ride you. Right here.”

“Oh...” she said, twisting her hips. “Mmm.”

She might as well be gagged, since all she could seem to manage were incoherent noises. But that was okay. He picked up the crop and started to whip her. Ass, hips, outer thighs. That first night, he’d cropped her inside her thighs, right beside her pussy, but he couldn’t do it now, not in this position. He contented himself with cropping her ass a hot, uniform red. “You remember the safeword?” he asked when her tossing and turning grew more frantic.

She never safeworded. It was partly her stubbornness and partly that he knew how much she could take. Her cries rose in volume until he judged that she was finished, and then he gave her just a little more.

That “just a little more” was always the best part. When he tossed aside the crop she slumped forward, her legs tense and shaking, her back rising and falling with each breath. He noticed with pleasure that she still had her ass offered out, exactly as ordered. He eased out the plug and set it aside, and straddled the horse behind her, pumping his cock. When she rose to turn to him he pushed her forward again. “No, no. Be good.”

Unlike her, his feet reached the ground just fine. He braced his legs and eased his cock into her asshole, one thrilling inch at a time. Her whole body was tense, struggling against the pain of her sore cheeks, and the clamps, and the pressure of the horse between her legs. He wouldn’t make her endure it all much longer. Once he started fucking her, once he started tugging that chain between her breasts and driving her moans to screams, both of them would shudder into orgasm.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her back on his cock, forcing her to take every inch in her tight, tense hole. There was just enough lube from the plug to ease the way. Neither of them liked too much slickness—it had to hurt a little for Petra to get off. As for him, every second he spent in her ass was a fucking dream.

“Oh, baby,” he sighed, bucking into her. “I love your asshole. It’s so hot and tight. We didn’t do this either, the first night, did we?”

“No, Sir,” she moaned.

“But you wanted to. I bet you wanted this, you naughty slut. You wanted my fat cock in your ass?” He reached up and untied the knot from the carabiner, never stopping the jerking motion of his hips. When he released her arms he pulled her closer, pressing her down against the narrow horse. He could never get close enough to her. He always had to let her out of bondage at the end so he could grind on her, body to body, and squeeze her in his arms.

She yelped as he tugged on the chain between her breasts. He held it in one hand and slapped her thigh with the other. “You like that, huh? Or maybe not. You let me hurt you because I like it? Because you want to please me?”

“Yes, Sir,” she said in a breathless, earnest voice. “Yes, Sir. I want to please you. Please...”

“Please what?”

“I’m going to come soon. Please, can I come?”

“I don’t know. I want to fuck your ass a little longer. Maybe twenty minutes. An hour.”

He laughed at her whimper. They both knew he’d never last that long. Not in one sustained bout, anyway. He took off the clamps one by one, driving deep inside her to the music of each tormented wail. Then he grasped her thighs and pressed his palm right over her clit. He held her close, squeezing her sore breasts. He wanted to be completely inside her, at one with her sensuality and beauty. She made him a new, better man and he’d love her forever for it.

He’d keep her forever...

“Come now,” he whispered. “Come with me deep inside you.”

She bucked back on his cock a few times, riding his hand, and then she went off. He could feel her orgasm, feel the squeeze and rhythm of her ecstasy. It set off his own pulsing climax, heightened by the feel of her in his arms.

“Holy fuck.” He held her, wanting to stay buried inside her as long as possible. He breathed in her scent and basked in her closeness. When his fingers were able to work again, he unfastened her cuffs and rubbed her wrists. “Okay, good girl?”

She made some weak, fucked-out mewl that sounded pretty okay. He pulled out carefully, giving her ass one final pat. Then he lifted her, supporting her legs, and eased her up off the unforgiving horse. When he tried to set her down, she wobbled, so he picked her up again and carried her to a nearby bench.

Petra snuggled against his chest, drifting on the smell of him and the strength surrounding her. “That was nothing at all like the first time,” she whispered against his neck.

He chuckled and held her closer. “It was better, no? At least this time you came.”

Petra laughed with him, marveling at the way she used to be. She’d been so afraid, so closed off. So worried about her precious career, but ironically, she danced better now that she allowed herself to live and love on her own terms. She sat up and gazed into Rubio’s eyes.

“I was lost back then.” She smiled and tugged the tag on her collar. “Now I’m found.”