Nobody's Hero (19 page)

Not sure how much longer he could hold out,
he ordered, “Straddle me.” He held his hands up to her to help
position her on top of him. She stood and climbed up onto the bed.
Her knees pressed against the juncture of his waist and hips, her
sweet pussy hovering over him. He wasn’t sure how much natural
lubricant she had, so he took his dick in hand and tilted his hips
up to rub it along her cleft. He moved between her slick folds
without impediment, watching as she closed her eyes and threw her
head back with abandon when he began to slap his dick against her
clit.

“Ohhh!”

She was ready. “Now, sit on it.”

Her eyes flew open and she looked down,
searching his face. “Sir?”

“You’re in control of how fast and how deep.
Just ease the tip inside, bob up and down on it a few times, taking
me deeper with each stroke until your sweet ass is plastered
against my pelvis.”

It took everything he had not to thrust up
and into her when her tight pussy slowly began to envelop his head.
His upper lip grew wet with the strain to remain still, but he
wanted her to get used to him again at her speed, not his. This
angle was different from what they’d done before.

“Oh, my Lord, I feel so full.”

Sweet Jesus, don’t give me a blow-by-blow.
You’re killing me here, woman.

As she took him deeper, she lowered her upper
body over his and rested on her forearms, her hands combing through
his short-cropped hair. Her face came down onto his and her tongue
licked the rim of his mouth before he opened up and sucked her
tongue inside. She soon took control and her tongue stroked in and
out, deeper each time, simulating what her pussy was doing to his
dick.

Unable to stop himself, his hands reached out
to cup the curves of her ass. He didn’t try to set the pace, but he
wanted to enjoy feeling the rise and fall of her ass in his hands
as she took him deeper and deeper. At last, he felt her upper
thighs brushing against his hips and knew she’d fully seated
herself. Her face pulled away and she grinned down at him in
triumph.

His little innocent was not looking
particularly innocent at the moment. He felt his dick pulse, and
her pussy answered by squeezing around him.

“I need to move inside you, kitten. Are you
ready to ride?”

Her pupils dilated and she grinned. “Giddyup,
Sir.” She lifted herself up and he pulled her hips back down,
thrusting himself upside her. The smile left her face. “Oh!”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” Her breathy whisper was sexy as
hell and all he needed. “Don’t stop…Master Adam.”

He smiled that she nearly forgot how to
address him. He liked that he made her mind turn to mush just about
as much as she did his. Needing no further encouragement, he
gripped her hips harder and pulled her off him, then impaled her
again. She grunted and closed her eyes as he repeated the movements
again and again. Soon, she matched his rhythm. Her pussy squeezed
him like a vise, released him, and then squeezed again. He
increased the tempo even more, slamming her against him. Knowing he
was about to come, he reached his right hand between the juncture
of their bodies and placed his fingertip over her erect clit.

“Oh my God!” Karla stopped moving for a
moment, but he continued to piston her pussy until soon she was
meeting his strokes again. Her incoherent mewlings told him she was
nearing the crest.

“Come with me, baby tiger.”

On cue, he felt her clit harden even more.
Her pussy clenched around him, and she screamed her release just as
his dick exploded inside her. He’d never felt anything so
mind-blowing in his life and didn’t want the moment to end. For
what seemed like forever, his dick twitched inside her as the
spasms from her velvet sheath sucked him dry.

“God, woman. You’re killing me.”

She collapsed against his chest. “How can
that be? I think I died first.”

“Just the little death.”

“
Petit mort
. Now I know what they
mean.”

“That’s the one, kitten. Best way to go.”

He stroked her hair with one hand and her
back with the other. Her weight on top of him felt so fucking good.
His cock still throbbed inside her. Her pussy continued to pulse
with tiny, intermittent aftershocks. It wouldn’t take much for him
to be ready to go again, but that wasn’t a good idea.

He didn’t want to break contact just yet, but
he wanted to get rid of the condom before they went back to sleep.
“I’ll be right back.” He tried to roll her off of him and pull out
of her warm sheath, but she moaned and her body grew heavier. She’d
fallen asleep. Damn.

He stroked her hair. “That’s it, kitten.
Sleep now.” He reached out and pulled the sheet and blanket over
her naked body and soon fell asleep with her.

* * *

“Get the fuck off me, you son of a
bitch!”

Karla’s eyes opened as her world spun out of
control. She was thrown onto her back and looked up to find Adam
holding her hands above her head, his fingertips biting into her
wrists. His body pressed hers into the mattress. The crazed look in
his eyes told her this wasn’t the Adam she loved. He must be in the
middle of some kind of nightmare.

“Adam, wake up! It’s me, Karla.” Her heart
thudded against her chest. The rage in his face terrified her. What
if he didn’t wake up? Would he hurt her? She needed to get through
to him. “Adam, you’re dreaming. You’re safe. No one wants to hurt
you.”

He blinked several times, his breathing harsh
to her ears. At last, his focus cleared and intensified. She
expelled her pent-up breath.

“Adam? Are you okay?” He continued to suck
air in and out through his mouth, then looked up at her hands and
loosened his grip. She might not have gotten bruises from their
BDSM play in the last couple of days, but she'd certainly have them
now.

“Oh, God.” He rolled off her and stared up at
the ceiling. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, Master. You were dreaming.”

“Fucking nightmare.” He rubbed his hands over
his eyes as if to wash away the images. “I need to hit the head and
get rid of this condom.”

Karla realized she’d fallen asleep on top of
him right after they’d made love. She’d never felt so relaxed and
safe. But was her weight on him what triggered the nightmare? Or
was it more than a nightmare? Did Adam suffer from PTSD? When he
returned from the bathroom, naked and beautiful, she turned onto
her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “Maybe if you talk
about it…”

“Not now. I just don’t want to talk about
it.” He rounded the bed and lay back down, but kept his distance
from her.

She rolled over, closer to him. “It can help
sometimes. Take away its power. Just like you got me to do when I
had nightmares about Ian.”

“This is different.”

“How so?”

“It’s me.” He grinned over at her, but she
ignored his attempt to deflect her concern.

She reached out and stroked his cheek. “Adam,
I’m a good listener. Try me.”

He placed his hand over hers, squeezed it,
then moved her hand away from his face. “It was just a dream. It
didn’t mean anything. It didn’t even make any sense.”

“Tell me about it. Maybe I can help sort it
out. What did you dream about?”

“Karla, I’m not going to talk about it with
you. Now drop it. That’s an order.”

His words stung, and she pulled her hand
back. Clearly, he didn’t want to open up to her about anything
personal. He never did.

“I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I think it’s best if you sleep in your own
bed the rest of the night.”

Tears filled her eyes. He didn’t want her
here. A knot formed in her throat and Karla needed to get away
before she embarrassed herself with tears. She reached for Adam's
robe and started toward the door.

“I’m sorry, Karla. It’s not you. I just don’t
want to hurt you.”

She opened the door and turned toward him.
“Too late for that, Adam. You already did.” Not waiting for a
response, she exited as quickly as she could.

By the time she reached her room and opened
the chest of drawers to pull out a long t-shirt, she was shivering.
She turned on the baseboard heat, donned the shirt, and crawled
under the quilts, but even the flannel sheets Adam had bought to
help keep her warm didn’t come close to the warmth she felt when
curled against his body.

Sleep was a lost cause at this point, so she
piled the pillows up behind her and picked up the spiral notebook
and pencil she kept on the nightstand for journaling, song-writing,
rambling, and list-making. Propping the pad against her tented
knees, she started scribbling the lyrics to some songs that had
begun rattling around in her head. The songs were far grittier than
anything she’d sung in the New York Goth club or even the Masters
at Arms Clubs before. Some of the songs glorified inflicting pain,
spoke of rough sex, but mosly it was about control—the surrender
and acceptance of control.

A soft knock at the door pulled her away from
her work several pages later, and she looked over at the clock.
Six-forty-three. She’d been working for more than an hour, so
consumed by the composition that time had stood still. She hadn’t
had a writing session like this since before Ian died. Maybe her
creative fog was lifting. Or maybe writing a song about her
frustration with
Master
Adam Montague was just the thing she
needed right now.

The knock came again and she realized Adam
wasn’t going to go away. He must have seen the light under the
door.

“Come in.”

The door opened and he stepped inside. “Are
you okay?”

“Fine.” Karla didn’t look at him, keeping her
steady gaze on the idle pencil in her hand, trying not to show that
he'd hurt her. “And you?”

“Other than being a royal pain in the ass,
you mean?”

Karla turned toward the doorway to see Adam
grinning. Why did he have to be so damned adorable when she really
wanted to stay mad at him? “Yeah, well, that’s a given.”

“A good slave wouldn’t agree so quickly.” He
sobered. “Come here.” He gave her a smoldering look that caused her
stomach to go ka-thunk again. “It wasn’t a suggestion, kitten.”

With a sigh, Karla laid the notebook and
pencil on the nightstand, wincing at the strain in her neck muscles
from the awkward position she’d held for the last hour. She stood
and closed the space between them, looking Adam in the eyes. She
wasn’t quite ready to submit totally again just yet. Maybe he’d cut
her some slack, her being such a new slave.

Adam’s hands reached out and cupped her face.
“I know you care. I don’t mean to shut you out. All I can remember
are random bits of nothing. They don’t make sense. I can’t even
make enough sense out of them to describe them to you.”

Karla placed her open hand against his bare
pec. Wasn’t the man ever cold? “Were you a child or an adult?”

“What?”

“In the nightmare. Did you feel like you were
a child or an adult?”

Adam looked away. “A teenager.”

“Who were you pushing away?”

“My father.”

“The alcoholic?” The one who abused his
mother.

“Look, I know what you’re trying to do, but I
just want to forget about it.”

“Sounds like your mother wasn’t the only one
who suffered his abuse, Adam.” She reached up to cup his cheek and
brushed her finger across his lips. The slight tremble told her he
might be fighting to maintain control. Good. He needed to lose it
for once.

Adam’s grip tightened on her face and he
pulled her closer. “I really don’t want to talk about it.” He
paused. “Follow me, kitten.”

She stepped toward him—what choice did she
have? He grinned and took her hand, turning to leave. But she
wasn’t ready to let go of this conversation. Well, her mind wasn’t
ready; her body was right back to doing what Adam said.

“Adam, I think if you faced the trauma of
your childhood, you’ll free yourself from what’s haunting you right
now.”

Adam turned and she could tell he was pissed
by the glare in his gaze, but she stood her ground. “One fucking
nightmare doesn’t make me haunted.”

“It wasn’t the first one, Adam.”

She felt his hand jolt involuntarily. “What
are you talking about?”

“In the hospital, while you were feverish,
you said some things…”

“What kinds of things?”

Karla glanced away. How could she repeat
those words he’d spoken about his mother doing something so
unspeakable? Wanting to comfort him—and perhaps herself—she wrapped
her arms around his steel-banded waist and pressed her cheek
against his hard chest. His heart was beating fast and hard against
her face. She ached for the little boy inside Adam who had been
treated so badly as a child.

Just when she thought he wouldn’t return the
hug, at last Adam reached around her and held her, giving her the
courage to speak the words. “You were begging your mother not to
lock you in something. You were telling her you’d be good, begging
not to be…” Tears stung Karla’s eyes, but when Adam tried to break
off their embrace, she just held him tighter. “Oh, Adam. I’m so
sorry. No child should have to go through that kind of
torment.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

Again, he tried halfheartedly to remove her
arms from him, but she knew he’d have succeeded if he really wanted
to. She held on even tighter. “I’m giving you my love, Adam, not my
pity.”

His body grew even more rigid. This time, he
reached for her arms and pushed her away from him until he could
look down into her eyes. “That’s even worse, kitten.” He turned and
walked back across the hallway, closing the door to his bedroom,
blocking her out. Again.

“Oh, Adam. What did they do to you?”

If Adam wouldn’t talk, then she’d have to
find out on her own. If she ever found his parents, she’d be sure
to give them a piece of her mind, because the way they’d treated
him as a boy made Adam, the man, unable to accept her love. She
wouldn’t leave it up to him anymore. She may be the first slave
ever to declare war on her Master, but she would take no prisoners
in her effort to win Adam’s heart.