Playing For Love (22 page)

“You think I'm going to yell at you, but not hurt you?” This was important. I didn't want her afraid of me. I couldn't deal with her being afraid of me. 

“I
know
you are going to yell.” Her fight was coming back.

Suppressing my smirk, I prodded, “Why?”

“Because I have a vibrator and dildo.” Her eyes dared me to do something about it. 

“Because I've told you” —then I was in front of her, palming her pussy roughly, grinding into her clit— “this is mine.
I
make you come.
I
fuck you.
Me
.”

Her chest heaved with her breath, but she didn't respond. My hand moved to the small of her back, forcefully guiding her through the door. Once we reached the stairs, she jerked away from me.

I followed her to the bedroom, reminding myself her trust in me was shaky at best and the chances of me triggering her were significant.

She stopped in her tracks when she entered the room, seeing her toys on display on our bed.

“Don't act like you're scared of them now.” I nudged her forward.

She moved to the other side of the bed—as far away from me as she could get—still breathing hard. I watched as her entire demeanor changed from defiant to something I didn't recognize.

“How many times have you used these?” I tried to keep my voice level.

She shook her head, searching for words. “I-I don't know.”

“That often, huh?” My voice was hard, bordering on threatening. I couldn't reign it in. “Why did you pack them?”

“I just... I guess to use. Maybe.”

“But not with
me
. Because you wouldn't have hid them from me, would you?”

She didn't say anything.

“You wanna keep them?” I pushed. 

“Okay.” Her voice was neutral and soft.

“
No.
I asked you if
you
want to keep them,” I clarified.

“Yes.”  

Her quiet, calm voice had my blood pounding through my ears and my body heating with irrational jealousy and anger. I would give her anything, do anything, but this... Her pleasure was mine, for me. I wasn't sharing it with anything or anyone. It took all my control not to yell at her.   

“So, you're telling me
no
, but you want to fuck these?” I tossed the purple dildo toward her trying to get a reaction.

She just stared at the bed where it landed.

“Have you used these with men?” I asked, my temper flaring as I realized she was retreating into herself, shutting down.  

“No.”

“Who do you think about when you use them?” I pressed.

“It depends,” she answered reluctantly.

At least she was being honest.

“All right.” It took grueling effort to control my reaction as I calmly grabbed the dildo off the bed and tossed it to Chance.

“David!”

“What?” I barked, getting angrier that she only reacted because she lost her fucking toy. “You aren't using it again.”

“But—”

“When I'm fucking you in the
ass—w
hen you get there—if you want a dildo, we will buy one.
Together
. And I will use it on you. Until then, if you want to fuck something” —I grabbed my hardening cock— “you have this whenever you want it. But that's all you have. Do you understand?”

She pressed her lips together but said nothing.

“You fuck
me
. Or you don't
fuck
. You don't come at all if I'm not the one making you come.” 

She looked away and made a face. Following her gaze, I saw Chance tearing into that purple thing. Grabbing the pink one, I walked out, taking it outside to the trash can, so she couldn't retrieve her precious toy. When I made my way back into the bedroom she was sitting on the bed. Sulking.

My cock turned to steel.

And all my restraint and concern for her past trauma dissolved.

Her reaction and her behavior pushed me too far, and my instinct to dominate her took over. I peeled off my shirt and my shorts, watching her. She turned her head, refusing to look at me, which just intensified my need to make her submit, make her open back up to me. 

“Look at me, Austin.” She obeyed, focusing on my eyes. “Take your shorts off,” I demanded roughly. When she didn't move, I warned darkly, “If you don't, I will. And I
won't
be gentle.”  

She sat up straighter, defiant. Her eyes narrowed, challenging me.  

My cock got impossibly harder.

I couldn't wait to sink into her tight cunt and watch her squirm and beg as I stretched it wide. I watched her, taking in her responses as I walked over, she tried to hide her reaction, but she couldn't hide the quickening rise and fall of her chest. Moving in front of her, I braced my hands on the bed by her hips, trapping her. Our faces inches apart, our gazes locked, both of us challenging. The slightest flare of her nostril and clench of her jaw spurred me into action. I grabbed the sides of her shorts with both hands, pulling.

She scrambled to keep them up.

My heart pounded and my breathing turned harsh as a possessive rage surged through me; her resistance awakening my darker desires. I yanked, tearing them roughly from her grip. Those little noises she made, the way she struggled and squirmed, backing away as I tore them down and off... It gave me a violent rush. Feeding the primitive part of me that wanted her weak and helpless. She moved to get off the bed and I caught her ankle, dragging her back, a growl rumbling through my chest. She kicked out with the other foot and I caught it too.

My need to control her, to own her, was overwhelming.   

An ankle in each hand, I gave her a cruel smirk and pulled them wide, leaving her bare cunt spread open before me.

Austin

He yanked my legs apart, pinning them down with his strong hands. I had never felt more exposed and vulnerable as when he effortlessly forced my legs wide. My core tightened, my pussy responding to his dominance.

“You can scream,” he growled darkly. “Cry. Struggle. Whatever you want... but I'm fucking you. I'm fucking this pussy until you start acting right.
Like I fucking own you.
Do you understand?”

I didn't respond. My breathing was out of control, and my pussy was beating out its demand. My heart raced as his fingers flexed, tightening. He watched me with a heated, darkness—almost predatory—taking notice of my responses before letting go to shove his boxer briefs down.

Something was different.

He looked...
dangerous.

“Sit up.”

Obeying his harsh command, I sat up. His cock was in front on me, angry and swollen, jumping with his pulse. Abruptly, he ripped my top up over my head, chaffing my skin. Before I could scramble back from this new aggression, his hand closed around my throat, giving me a warning squeeze, just enough to intimidate.

I expected panic and fear, with my history, but I wasn't afraid. His complete dominance over me spiked my desire to a new level and soothed something inside me. His intense, dark eyes bored into mine as his free hand moved between my legs, pushing two thick fingers inside. I gasped as he penetrated me, thrusting in and out, curling, working the knot of nerves inside me with determination.

“I fucking own this cunt,” he muttered harshly.

My mouth opened in a silent cry as the pressure built. Arousal flashed through me at his words, heating my skin. His hand tightened on my throat and my pussy clenched violently, making me feel crazed and comforted at once.

His fingers pulled out as the hand on my throat pushed me to my back.

“I told you before. You're mine. Your body's mine. Whenever I want it... You said you understood.” He crawled above me, the fierceness in his voice making my breath hitch. “I've tried to be understanding because of the situation, but it's
enough
. I know what you need and I'm giving it to you, even if you think you don't want it.” His hand tightened on my throat again, warning, before letting go.

I didn't correct him, fearful this dark side of him would disappear if he knew how much I wanted it.

He braced on one arm, lowering his weight down on me. His other hand pulled my leg up, hooking it over his hip.

“We both need this.” His voice was rough with arousal and aggression. He grabbed his cock, crudely rubbing the thick crown between my lips. “Fuck, I'm glad you're wet. I'm not gonna be gentle.”

With a deep groan, he slammed in, forcing his full length inside me. I cried out at the painful intrusion and his chest rumbled with satisfaction. He was bigger, harder and so damn deep, I struggled to breathe. Mentally, emotionally the connection was immediate, taking the edge off my insecurities.

My hands pushed at his hips. Instinctively, trying to get relief. I was tight, not having had him inside me in three days. It was almost as painful as the first time.

Grabbing my hands, he pulled them over my head, pinning them. He pressed my wrists into the bed, supporting his weight with his fists. He pulled out and my breath left me in a rush.

“Yeah,” he groaned, ramming his vicious length back into me before I could recover. I cried out in pain. His grip on my wrist tightened. “This is what you needed.” He pulled back out and thrust in at a hard pace, rough from the start.

The emotions, the stress, everything I had been struggling with uncoiled with each painful thrust. It was insane but the pain freed me from my internal chaos.

My body struggled to take him, the pain sharp and unyielding. Wanting to feed his aggression, I whimpered, “David, it hurts.”

“I know it hurts.” His voice was soft, tender. His thrusts punishing. “It's going to hurt.”

“It's too much,” I whimpered, arching away from him, in an attempt to struggle

He angled his cock, thrusting in while rubbing over my sensitive nerves. My body heated after a few strokes, my walls relaxing.  

“There you go, sweet girl. Just like that.”

Something in his patronizing tone had my body melting under his. Submitting. My hips tilting up to take more, wanting more. My cries of pain turned to needy moans of pleasure.

“Yeah, that's my greedy, tight little cunt.” His tone had my pussy squeezing frantically at his brutal length.

“David,” I muttered mindlessly. I should have been concerned at how effortlessly he controlled me when he was inside me. Then excruciating euphoric fire was burning through me, erasing all other thoughts as my body convulsed under him with a violent orgasm.

“Oh, yeah. Love your tight little cunt.” His erotic moan was velvet over gravel, soothing the ragged edges of my emotions. “Keep coming for me.”   

I moaned and writhed as he forced another painful orgasm out of me, hot on the heels of the first. My arms pulled against his restraining hands and he let go. Bracing on a forearm, his other hand shoved under my ass, lifting and angling my hips. His thrusts became more savage, forcing a shout out of me. His head buried in my neck, his warm breath rasping against my skin with his effort. My hand went to his bicep, feeling the smooth skin over powerful muscle. The other moved to his hair, fisting. My eyes closed and my head arched back. Letting him command my body. Letting him give me pleasure I could never give myself. That sweet ache I craved.

He angled his hips again, grunting with each brutal lunge, and moments later, another devastating orgasm pumped through me. Vicious and hot, my body shaking uncontrollably as a trembling moan tore from my throat. Responding to his domination in this way should have been alarming.

“Yeah, you can hide all you want. I'll find you. I'll fuck you until you open back up to me. Till you let me see you,” he promised fiercely. 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

David's thickly muscled arm wrapped around me, pulling me tight, his body curling around mine. His hips shifted subtly against my ass.

I heard a snuffling noise, then David's throaty whisper. “Go lay down, give me ten minutes.”

A low guttural noise was his impatient answer.

“Shhh.” David pulled away. “Chance, you're cockblocking me now?” I felt the bed shift as he got up.

I could hear them moving around.

“It's my one week anniversary,” he complained softly. “You better make it quick, buddy. I'm getting morning sex today.”

I don't know how long I had been laying there feigning sleep when I heard David's feet slapping against the hardwood as he moved quickly down the hallway. I cracked my eyes open, excited at his obvious eagerness to get back to me. When he entered, my heart froze for a beat, then raced. His bare chest was covered in blood, dripping down to his boxer briefs. I bolted upright, clutching the sheet to my chest. 

“David?” I questioned, panicked. Chance entered behind him, blood dripping from his mouth. I breathed, “What happened?”

“I forgot to turn the electric fence back on after they installed the safety fence.” He sounded annoyed as he quickly moved through the room with Chance, going straight to the bathroom.

“What's all the blood?” I asked, still freaked out.

“A snake,” he called out. Then the shower turned on. “Chance found it. Grabbed the tail. Shook it hard. Cracked it like a whipped.”

Oh, God... 

I knew how this story ended.

“The head came off. Hit me in the chest.” He paused. “It was seven feet long, sweetheart. Don't open the doors. Animal control is coming along with someone from the Park Rangers and a vet, to check Chance.”

“Did he get bit?” I asked, getting out of bed.

“I don't know. He came around the side of the house wrestling with it.” From the way his voice paused and changed I could tell he was stripping and stepping into the shower. “Then he started shaking the shit out of it.”  

“Was it poisonous?” I stood in the bathroom doorway, seeing David scrubbing them both down.

“I don't know. That's why I called animal control.” He paused for a long moment. “They're gonna check the property. Make sure nothing else got in.”

I sighed heavily and walked over to my side of the bathroom, looking at my reflection.

No morning sex for us.
   

I washed my face and brushed my teeth, then went to the closet, finding a sports bra, yoga pants, and an oversized tee. I got dressed quickly while my guys finished showering. Then I grabbed a pair of socks and tennis shoes—the idea of walking around the house barefoot was not an option at the moment. Just the thought of a seven-foot-long snake outside was enough to give me the willies for days. I would be checking corners and under furniture for weeks.

The water cut off in the bathroom and I went to the kitchen to start some coffee. Or try. The machine was much too complicated, I couldn't even find where the filter was.

“Sweet girl?” I heard David call from the bedroom.

“In the kitchen,” I yelled. “I can't figure out how to use the coffeemaker.”

David came around the corner, water glistening on his chest, magnifying his hard contours. His black shorts hung low, and his bare feet slapped against the floor.

“I got it, sweetheart.” He deftly took over the task, pausing momentarily to give me a lush kiss, then rasped against my lips, “Happy one week anniversary.”

I huffed out a laugh and wrapped my arms around his waist as he turned back to his task. I pressed my cheek to his hot, wet back, feeling his muscles shift as he moved.

“Do you want me to show you how to do this?”

“No. You're so good at it, I think you should keep doing it.”

His chest shook with quiet laughter, his hand gliding lovingly along my forearm. Then his deep, rich rumble vibrated his chest. 

“How about I make us breakfast real quick before they get here?”

I nodded, my cheek still pressed against him.

Sitting at the kitchen island, I watched, impressed as he cooked our breakfasts simultaneously. He explained he didn't find any puncture holes on Chance, which was a relief.

David seamlessly plated our food and got our coffees ready. Watching him, I realized how lucky I was. How many women had men who catered to their every need? How many women had men who could switch from making love to hardcore, rough fucking in the same minute? How many women got to stare at a body like that, golden skin covering rippling muscles? His movements were graceful as he brought our plates and coffees over. My eyes followed him as he moved. He returned my gaze as he sat, watching me closely, his knowing smirk firmly in place.

“You love me again.”

“Shut up,” I muttered, trying to suppress my grin.

He pulled his chair closer to mine, and his hand slid up my thigh, squeezing.

“Sex is how we communicate, sweetheart. It keeps us level, keeps us on the same page. I always know where you are emotionally when I'm inside you.”

He was right. Though, I knew my psychiatrist would say it was only making the root of the issue worse, that we should abstain from sex—I knew that was the sane thing to do. But the disconnect was too strong on my end, making me want to leave, and it left David reeling and insecure. Sex was what kept us connected, emotionally and physically.  

“Yeah,” I murmured, embarrassed by my behavior.  “I feel better... about everything.”

The Dawn situation still hurt, but I could rationalize my emotions and separate what was real and what were just my issues running out of control.

“I'm sorry I'm so difficult.”

“Hey.” His tone and his tightening hold on my thigh, prompted me to meet his gaze, his expression somber. “You don't have
anything
to be sorry about,” he swore fiercely.
“I'm
sorry. This is
my
fault. I fucked up, I should've told you sooner.”

He searched my eyes for a moment, then shifted, a smirk forming on his face. “Anyway, easy's boring. Besides, I knew you were high-maintenance the first time I saw you.” He continued before I could respond, “If you weren't you wouldn't need me. And it keeps me on my toes. Keeping you happy is a full-time job, and I've never been happier to work.”

I knew he was trying to lighten the mood, but I was torn between being flattered and feeling like a huge burden.

Hesitantly, I offered, “Maybe I should go back to ther—”

“No.” His eyes cut to me, a mix of pleading and warning. “You are perfect; you don't need to change anything. I'll take care of you. You tell me how you feel, you tell me what's wrong and I'll fix it—or don't tell me, but
I'll
fix it.”

“Okay,” I agreed quietly.

Personally, I hated seeing a therapist. I felt like they were simply a spectator watching me figure out my own problems. I was a little ashamed at how freeing it was to have David take that choice from me.

A knock on the door ended our breakfast early as David got up to answer it. 

While getting Chance something to eat, I heard David call from the entry, “Stay in the house.” His voice sounded deeper, more alpha-male asshole.

It's a man at the door.

Going to the back to peek, I saw blood sprayed on the patio. Then I saw the large snake they were removing. It was huge. The thickest part of its body was nearly the size of David's bicep.

I'm going to have nightmares for weeks. 
 

“The vet's here. The others are checking the property for anything else. It'll be an hour or so. Stay inside,” David instructed again as he gripped Chance's thick, leather, studded collar and led him out to the garage.

I watched, confused as to why the vet wouldn't come inside or why I couldn't go out to the garage, so I followed. Opening the garage door, I saw a young man and David looking at the cars.

“Hi,” I said, shutting the door behind me.

“Austin.” I could hear the warning in David’s voice. 

The man looked up then.

“Mrs. Taylor, you should stay inside until they check the garage and cars for snake eggs.”

My stomach twisted, my breakfast threatening to make a reappearance. I walked back toward the door, using every ounce of my self-control not to break into a run. “David, make them check the house.” My voice sounded screechy to my ears as I slammed the door shut in my sudden, overwhelming burst of fear.

It felt like an eternity before David brought Chance back in.

He pinned me with a
I told you
look. “That's why I said stay inside.”

“But what if they're in the house?” I repeated over and over hysterically.

“Calm down,” he laughed. “It wasn't poisonous, but it laid eggs recently. And Chance is fine.”

I hadn't touched Chance since it happened; I’d been too freaked out. Now I felt bad.

“We're gonna take Chance and go to the gym. They checked the truck. So we're good to go.”

They checked the truck... the eggs could be in my car? 

At my horrified expression, he explained, “They're checking everything. It'll be fine.”

“What if I wake up covered in snakes?” I breathed.

“You're afraid of snakes?” He sounded as if he was just coming to this conclusion.

“Yes!” I yelled.

“Okay. After they're done. I'll find a snake wrangler or something to come out and check again.”

“And then again. Another one. A better one.”

“Yes. As many as you want.” He tried to smother his grin. 

I was too terrified to walk through the house. David got my purse and phone and a change of clothes for us as I stood in the open area between the living area and kitchen.

“Sweet girl, you're seriously freaking out.”

“Yes! I am!” I was on the verge of tears.

He looped my purse and bag on his wrist.

“Hop up,” he muttered, grinning as he grabbed me around the waist.

I jumped up and wrapped my arms and legs around him, climbing him in my desperation not be on the ground. He easily carried me out to the car, putting me in the front seat much like a child. I didn't care that some of the men saw. I couldn't care less as long as snakes weren't getting me.

David tried to soothe me on the drive to the gym.  His hand rubbed over my thighs and hands, squeezing and massaging.

“Austin, you have to calm down.”

This completely overshadowed the bullshit with Dawn and Zach. They didn't even rate right now.

“I have to meet that guy at your house today for the wall repair. Do you two want to go with me?” he asked patiently.

“I don't want to go back to the snake baby house alone,” I said incredulously.

That's definitely not happening.

*****

“Movers will be here next Friday,” David said as he pulled into my driveway.

“I won't be able to start writing until the photoshoots are done anyway.” Then abruptly, I added, “I want to paint that office before I set up in there.”

“Whatever you want.” He paused as he parked and turned off the ignition. “You know what color you want?”

“Black,” I continued excitedly, “and I want all the furniture mid-century, in either black or pink. Everything but the desk.” I looked at him then. His eyebrow went up and that half-smile formed on his chiseled face.

“Anything you want.” His voice gave away his delight at my thought-out office or my excitement.  

As I let Chance out of the back, I watched David walk out to meet the repair van that parked in front of the house. Then I heard a voice call out to me, getting David's attention as he turned to assess her.

“Hi!” I called to my neighbor. 

“Did you move?” she asked once she was at the fence separating our properties. She was five-five, average build, shoulder-length dark brown hair, fortyish, and she looked to be of Spanish decent, but I didn't know.

“Not yet.” I walked closer. “But the movers will be picking up a few things next Friday.”

“Did you sell?” This was why I had kept my distance the past three years, she was nosy. 

“No. I'm not—”

“We aren't selling immediately. Might just rent it out,” David cut me off. “Hi, I'm David.”

“Hi.” She looked to me. “Are you and Zach not back together?”

I was surprised by her question. Zach hadn't been around much when we were dating, and he hadn't been around at all for the past thirteen months.

“Why would you think that?” David asked casually.

“Zachary's been over here several times in the past few days. When I asked, he said you had worked things out.”

Worked things out? What the fuck?