Protege (19 page)

Tiffany had scars from her youth, moments when a blade pressed slowly into her soft skin, piercing the swell of delicate flesh until a pearl of crimson bloomed against the metal. She'd talk about her cutting so eloquently when they were in private, sometimes she'd even trace a finger along one of her scars the way a lover might caress lips, recalling a passionate kiss.

As the years went on, it wasn't uncommon to find her holding the hilt of a knife too long at the counter and catch the far-off glint in her eye as though lost in a fantasy, one he'd never be able to deliver. She tried to snuff out her affinity for pain, but in the end it became a beckoning affair she longed to return to.

His body disguised a shiver as his lips pressed to the warm body filling his arms. “I never want you to hesitate if you need to use your safe word, Collette. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” She twisted, her hazel eyes gazing into his. “Sir?”

“Yes.”

“May I touch you? Everything you said was so poignant, I find myself . . .” She frowned as though searching for the right words. “Full of desire. I want to kiss you.”

Her request was so honest and flattering, yet his instinct to pull back from the intimacy rode hard. As much as he needed the distraction from his darker thoughts, he needed to make one more thing clear.

He cleared his throat. “There's something else we should discuss, Collette.” Lifting her off his lap, he waved a hand at the chair opposite the couch.

She nodded and moved to the distant seat, hiding her disappointment well.

“It can be confusing, all these emotions stimulated by this dynamic we're applying,” he explained, hoping to bring them both some clarity. “You're placing yourself in a very vulnerable position and trusting me to take care of you. I will, because I've agreed to show you a glimpse of this lifestyle so you might better know yourself.” He met her gaze and spoke clearly. “Do not confuse my dedication to teaching you these things with love.”

Her lashes lowered, a smart smirk crossing her lips as a silent breath of laughter escaped her in a soft exhalation. “You flatter yourself, Sir.”

He drew back, and his expression dropped. He appraised her quick response, not expecting the barb. The prick to his ego smarted immediately. Perhaps he needed to heed his own advice.

Her lashes lifted as she stared at him with hard certainty, all playfulness in her expression gone. “May I be excused?”

He frowned, disliking the shift that just took place. “No.”

Her jaw twitched, but she remained still and silent. Was she embarrassed? Angry? There was definitely some poignant emotion tumbling through her in that very moment.

“Have I upset you, peach?”

“No, but I find your arrogance disappointing.”

His brow lifted—again shocked by her directness. Regaining his composure, he smirked. “Do you now?”

She held his stare. “Yes, Sir, I do. I was only asking for intimacy, not a grand gesture of your devoted affection. I'm not an idiot. But bless your heart for clarifying your intensions.”

Her southern twang grew thick as she laid out the disguised insult.

Leaning close, he dropped his voice in a way that demanded her complete attention. “I, too, am not an idiot, peach. I've been all over this world, to each continent and through most states. You underestimate my intelligence if you think you're the first southerner I've met. It's a plain insult to use a phrase like
bless your heart
and assume I don't know the translation.” Everyone knew that phrase was a polite way to call someone an idiot. His eyes narrowed. “Your Dom is now a very pissed-off Yankee, peach.”

The hardness in her jaw slackened as her eyes slowly widened. And there was the shift he'd been referring to, back in place the way it was meant to be.

Keeping his voice even, he said, “Get up stairs and freshen up. In ten minutes I expect to find you bent over the foot of your bed, ass in the air. You asked for intimacy and you'll have it. Perhaps a little lesson on brattiness as well.” When she didn't immediately move, he snapped, “Go.”

She quickly rose and left the room. Grinding his teeth he sat back. Looked like they were going to cross off a few objectives tonight.

“Well, isn't that a lovely sight.”

Collette's body trembled as Jude stepped into the room, his presence pronouncing an attentiveness inside her that seemed consistently linked to his mood. Sometimes the awareness was a dull throb he produced by merely being close. Other times, it was a thrumming, racing through her pulsing veins as his intentions slowly unraveled and she accepted his decisions the second they were communicated. There was no balance when he had her blood pumping like that, much like it did now.

The soft whisper of his clothing being stripped away was a welcome interlude. Her fingers massaged the comforter as her cheek pressed into the mattress. Her body quivered with anticipation, her mind certain he would fill her soon.

“The trouble,” he stated softly as he opened and closed a drawer, “with not saying exactly what we mean, is that it can lead to
not
getting exactly what we want. Downstairs you expressed a desire for intimacy and I took a moment to clarify my emotional investment to our association. You then called me an idiot.”

His feet nudged hers, widening her stance, and she gasped. “That's not what I said, Sir.”

“And what does it mean in Georgia when one says
bless your heart
? Tell me it means something else and I'll apologize for my misunderstanding immediately.”

She couldn't deny it. He'd called her out, reminding her of the nature of their relationship—a reminder she very much needed in that moment—and in turn made her feel stupid. So she'd called him an idiot.

“I'm sorry, Sir.”

“Apology accepted.” He stepped forward, the crinkled hair of his thighs pressing to the backs of her smooth flesh. “However, I would be remiss to allow such disrespect to go unpunished.”

“But—”

“The only words you are permitted to speak are
penguin
and
thank you, Sir
. If I require more from you I'll specifically ask for it. Nod if you understand.”

Her head bobbed quickly as something slick drizzled down her back.

“As I was saying, the issue with not clearly communicating what we want is that we sometimes receive the unexpected. I will kiss you when this is over, by the way,
if
you do not upset me again.”

And damn her for getting hung up on that proverbial carrot. She'd wanted to kiss him so desperately downstairs. His words resonated in some hidden cranny of her soul and she'd felt so connected to him—too connected, which was why he likely reminded her this was only for educational purposes.

His fingers quickly fit between her folds, testing her evident and somewhat mortifying arousal, but making no move to stimulate her. When oil massaged into her back entrance her eyes widened. She could handle a finger, but he'd definitely stripped for a reason. Her breath turned labored as he fed a finger slowly inside her and began pumping.

“One of the most intimate acts a couple can share is anal sex, peach. There's nothing quite as vulnerable as having a man take you this way.” He spoke as if he had experience in that arena. “But your ass is mine for the next several weeks and no one will experience this intimate gift but me—starting tonight.”

Another finger stretched her and she moaned. A fist seemed to squeeze her heart, excitement pumping through her veins, trepidation thrumming right on its tail. She'd wanted this for a long time but had never trusted another enough to even ask for it, let alone bare herself in such a way.

His fingers penetrated deep and she went up on her toes, pressing her lips tight as she swallowed a moan. It was an awakening indeed, one she intended to relish and not spoil by spouting out words accelerated by unnecessary fear. She wanted this and though he phrased it as a lesson, she recognized it as a gift.

His fingers wedged deep and held. “Do you have something to say?”

“Thank you, Sir.”

His lips pressed tenderly to the back of her shoulder, lingering long enough for her to feel the curve of his smile. Her eyes closed as she sensed that he was pleased with her—his approval fulfilling more hidden needs buried deep inside her soul.

“Feel free to make noises, Collette. It's a lot to bear, and you're tight.”

Her lips parted and she let out a guttural sigh as he slowly began to pump his fingers. God, she liked it, more than she expected she would. Overwhelmed by his power over her in that moment, her sex gushed as warm arousal bathed her folds.

Ramming his fingers deep, he leaned over her and whispered, “This is what I meant about not needing to be a sadist to enjoy dishing out a punishment.” His tongue dragged slowly from one shoulder to the other. “I'm going to enjoy taking your virgin ass very much. Stretching you like no other man has.” His lips closed over the side of her neck as he sucked for a moment. “Just like you remember that neighbor who took your virginity, you'll never forget me, the first Dom to claim your virgin ass.”

Her breath quickened as something in his tone registered. He'd made that last promise and exposed a bit of his hand. Yes, this was business, but he, too, would walk away from this experience with something. He wasn't as detached as he pretended. He felt
something
for her, be it greed, possessiveness, affection, or respect, she wasn't quite sure, but it was evident how much it pleased him to always claim ownership of this virgin part of her.

Strangely, she was glad to give it to him. Her emotions were betraying her common sense and she needed to cool it. The problem was, every second he interacted with her the more emotionally invested she became. She didn't know how to shut off that part of herself.

His body lifted, his hand slowly dragging down her spine, fingers tripping over each vertebra. Her insides tugged as his fingers worked her desire higher and higher. Withdrawing his touch, he bent and spread her cheeks wide. Her eyes closed as his inspection weighed on her.

“So tight.” He smacked her behind as he released her cheeks. “I think a bit more oil would be appreciated.” Again, he doused her ass with lubricant, which she appreciated.
See how considerate he is of your comfort . . .

Gritting her teeth, she willed her heart to stay out of it. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Such pretty southern manners.”

She had to smirk. It was a well-mannered southern insult that got her into this mess, but she knew better than to comment on his ironic praise.

He stepped close, the heat of his cock burning her back entrance as trepidation bit at her. He pressed and her body instinctively tried to escape his hold. So many emotions. So many rapid thoughts and fears. The pleasure vanished with the first pinch of tightness as he fit his cock against her opening and she panicked. “Penguin. Penguin.”

The pressure disappeared. “Are you hurt?” There was obvious concern in his voice.

She breathed fast, her bottom quickly recuperating from the sense it was about to be ripped in two.

“Answer me, Collette. You have permission to speak.”

“I panicked. I'm sorry.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“It hurt.” She swallowed. “For a second.”

He was silent for a moment. “A good hurt or a bad hurt? Please be specific.”

“A scary hurt. I don't know if I can do this.” Her jaw locked in frustration. She
wanted
to try this and she wanted to try it with
him
. The sudden shame at not being able to do something he desired caught her off guard, knocking the breath from her and rocking her to the verge of tears. She desperately wanted to be an adequate partner for him, regardless of the limited time in which she'd have the right.

His body folded over hers as he softly whispered into her ear. “What do you want, peach? If you want this to stop, it will.” His lips pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“I want . . .”
To please you.
“I'm ready now, Sir. I was just scared.”

He was silent for a long moment. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. “Yes. Please do it.”

“All right, Collette. We'll continue. If you need to stop again, you know what to do.”

She nodded again and exhaled as his body lifted off hers, but he didn't return where he left off. Her brow creased as his hand softly trailed down her spine, his fingertips taking a slow exploration of her sides, tracing each dip and curve. Her breath sucked in as his mouth pressed to her behind and his palms glided firmly up to her arms.

“Relax. Feel my touch. Know it's me and think of all the times my body has brought you pleasure. Relax and feel, peach. I won't hurt you.”

The tension in her shoulders eased as her eyes closed. Every press of his hand filled her with comforting warmth. Her worries subsided, and desire to meet his needs the way he met hers slowly kindled. She was ready. It was amazing that, for as demanding as he could be, he was equally patient and always insistent she be ready for each step forward.

This time when his cock pressed to her back entrance, it was slick with oil applied directly to his skin. She whimpered as he gently probed the tight muscle, stretching it with little dips of his thick cock. It seemed the entry was the difficult part. The deeper he went, the more her pleasure intensified. Her skin began to sweat as she lifted to her toes, her calf muscles throbbing. He held her cheeks wide and suddenly he was in.

Bearing down, she let out a harsh breath and swallowed.

He leaned over her back, blanketing her. His breath left in a gust of heat, sending chills down her arms. When he spoke, his voice was strained, a husky rasp thick with desire. “How do you feel, peach?”

Her nipples tightened against the covers as the dark need in his gravelly tone sank into her, warm and rich. Neither of them was unaffected by this act. “Full. Very full, like I'm going to tear in two, but at the same time, I feel cocooned and wonderful.”

His body shifted, applying pressure to her insides as he again kissed her back. “I'm very proud of you for trying when you were afraid. It shows exquisite trust. You honor me.”

His hips rocked with the slightest motion, barely withdrawing, but stimulating a sensation deep inside her. She groaned and her back bowed of its own volition, as if her body needed more. Never once did his presence inside her escape her every thought.

Her emotions, again, took hold as she blinked back tears. There was no pain, only delicious pressure. “I'm so wet.” She breathed out the confession before her common sense could pull it back.

His fingers briefly caressed her folds and he cursed. “It's a beautiful thing, your body's reaction to mine.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“You're welcome.” She sensed it immediately, another wall erecting between them. He might be a master of many things, but mostly he was a master at separating reality from fantasy. He withdrew and her body pulsed with emptiness.

“Oh God.” She lowered her face and clenched her ass, willing the hollow feeling away and suppressing the fear that this would be another abrupt halt to their intimacy.

“Up on the bed, peach. Now that you've had a cock in your ass I'm going to show you how it feels to be fucked by one.” Relief overwhelmed her as he guided her onto the mattress. “Lie flat. Legs together. Get comfortable.”

He wasn't finished with her, but there was a definite change. Where had the closeness gone? She hadn't imagined it. She'd felt it in his harsh exhalations and heard it in the tone of his voice. Chances were, if she could lay her hand on his chest his heart would be thundering as hard as hers. This was not one-sided. It couldn't be.

He climbed on top of her, straddling her thighs and pressing her hips into the bedding. Her eyes shut tight as he spread her again. “Beautiful.”

She expected him to sink into her, picking up where they left off, but he didn't. His mouth trailed over her shoulders as he whispered, “Beautiful, Collette.” A bit of the closeness came back to her. His hands coasted over her flesh, feather light and almost reverent. “Your body responds to mine so nicely. Tell me what you feel.”

So much.
“Desire. Need.”

Leaning up, he fit his cock to her opening. “Is this what you need?” He edged only deep enough to stretch her slightly.

That was a start. “Please . . .”

His moan echoed her own as he sank into her. His strong body pressed into her soft curves as he slowly rocked over her. Picturing his strength and perfect formation as his chest lifted with each dip into her, she felt her arousal double.

Her hands fisted the bedding as his fingers closed over hers, pressing them deeper into the mattress. Mesmerized, she stared at their entwined fingers as he consumed her. His breath chased over her neck, teasing her damp curls. His belly glided against her spine as his gravelly moans met her ears and his intensely male scent filled her lungs.

It was by far the most intimate experience of her entire life.

“Sir,” she rasped.

He paused, and she regretted interrupting him. Buried deep, his body braced over hers. “Yes, Collette?” So soft was his voice in that moment she found herself breathless once more.

Words escaped her, at least the pretty sort that could accurately express what she was feeling in that moment under his total possession. “Thank you for . . . this.”

He growled, dark and hedonistically, as he pulled back, driving into her again. She gasped at the stimulating fullness, her pelvis digging into the mattress.

“Do you like my cock in your ass, peach?”

It wasn't so much the physical act that was getting her high as the implied possession. He had her, pinned, pegged, and ready to beg. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

“Thank you for what?” He thrust again.

Her flesh tingled as arousal turned to a sort of essence surrounding her. She bathed in the sense of everything outside of that moment, outside of him and her, letting go. “Thank you for showing me how good your cock feels filling my ass.”