Savior (An Impossible Novel) (21 page)

BOOK: Savior (An Impossible Novel)
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He still looked hesitant, but his hard cock let me know how badly he wanted me.  “Are you sure?”

I smiled up at him softly.  “You’re a far better painkiller than Advil is.”

He chuckled.  “That’s the strangest compliment I’ve ever received.  But I’ll take it.”  He stroked my hair tenderly.  “I’ll be gentle with you,” he reassured me.

“I don’t want you to be gentle,” I huffed petulantly.

He grinned down at me.  “How can I resist you when you’re pouting like that?  I shouldn’t have told you my weakness.  You’re not trying to manipulate me, are you?”

“That depends,” I said teasingly.  “How much trouble would I be in if I was manipulating you?”

His expression turned stern, but the playful light
in his eyes told me he was enjoying our little game.  “Loads,” he told me.  “I thought I warned you not to try topping from the bottom.”

“In that case: yes.  I am trying to manipulate you.”  I pouted again to drive home my point.

Clayton laughed.  “You little minx.  If I punish you now for topping from the bottom, then I’ll just be giving you what you want, thereby allowing you to top from the bottom.  That leaves me with a bit of a dilemma now, doesn’t it?”

“Why do you have to be so goddamn clever?”  I asked sulkily.

“And now you’re cursing at me again.  Does your deviousness know no bounds?  I think I’m going to have to have a long talk with Smith about what we should do with you.”  His tone was musing, but his words held a clear threat.  My shiver was a result of both fear and a spike of pleasure at the thought of being at the mercy of both Dominant men once again.  How far would they push me…?

Clayton lowered himself so
his lips were at my ear, his hot breath playing over my sensitive neck.  “I think someone likes that idea,” he remarked, his voice low and hungry.  I whimpered beneath him as my erogenous zones throbbed to life, my desire enflamed by the promise in his tone.

“Touch me,” I begged.  “Please, I’ll be good.  Just touch me.”

Clayton nipped lightly at my earlobe.  “Now that’s the proper way to get what you want,” he told me, his pleasure evident in his voice.  “No tricks.”  He trailed his tongue in a hot line from my ear to the nape of my neck.  “And no backtalk.”  He brushed his lips across my collarbone.  “Just be my sweet and obedient sub.”  His teeth bit into the sensitive flesh where my neck met my shoulder, and I cried out as the sharp pain sent searing lines of pleasure shooting to my sex.

“My” sub.
  His.

“Yes, Clayton,” I moaned.  “I’m yours.”

He drew back slightly so he could stare down at me.  His eyes were blazing with a desire that was more than just lust; it was yearning.

“Say it again,” he ordered.  “Who do you belong to?”

“You.  I’m yours, Clayton.”  My voice shook with erotic longing as I made the confession.

His expression twisted in triumph as his primal side took over, drawn out by my admission of his complete ownership of my body and soul.  He tore at my clothes, his movements rough and almost frenzied, as though he couldn’t strip me fast enough.  I met him with equal passion, my lips finding his as I undressed him, my fingers roving greedi
ly over every inch of flesh I exposed.  When my touch found his hard cock, he growled into my mouth, a low, warning sound.  He jerked away from me, briefly depriving me of his heat so that he could grab a condom from his pants pocket.  I licked my lips in anticipation as I watched him roll it on.  He noticed, and he leered down at me.

“Tell me how badly you want my cock inside you.”

“Oh, God,” I groaned as his crude command washed over me, making my ache for him even more painfully acute.  “I want you to fuck me, Clayton.  I
need
you to fuck me. I want you to slam your cock into my pussy so hard that my teeth rattle.  And I don’t want you to ever stop.”

“Fuck, Rose!”  He barked out as he impaled me.  My fingers twisted in the sheets and my toes curled at the raw ferocity of it.

“Yes!  Clayton!”  I cried.  “Just like that.  Just like that.  Thank you thank you thank you…”  The words dripped from my tongue in tandem with every hard, rapid thrust, but I was hardly aware I was even speaking.  The intensity of my pleasure overwhelmed all other thoughts as Clayton’s cock hit my g-spot over and over again.  The friction of his body’s movements against my clit only stimulated me further.

My eyes were half-closed in my delirium, but they flew open when I felt Clayton’s hand wrap around the front of my throat.  He gripped me firmly, but he didn’t squeeze.  I automatically surrendered to the primitive part of my brain that was hardwired to capitulate when threatened in this way.  My body went limp beneath him as I surrendered to the Alpha, giving in to his physical declaration of his dominance.

“Who do you belong to?”  He gritted out through clenched teeth.  His face was contorted into something fierce with the effort of holding himself back.  We were both so close…

“You, Master.  I belong to you.”  I had never called anyone that before, but the title came to my lips naturally.  Clayton owned me in every way possible, and I reveled in it.

“Rose,” he groaned, and I felt his cock begin to pump inside me as his orgasm hit him.  I finally let myself go, not even realizing until that moment that I had been forcing myself to wait for him.  I came hard and long, and Clayton continued to thrust into me as I rode out the aftershocks that crackled within me like little lightning strikes.

As I came down, I found us gasping in each other’s arms.  When Clayton had finally caught his breath, he lightly touched his fingers to the side of m
y cheek, turning my face so I was forced to look into his eyes.  They were filled with wonder.

“I wasn’t expecting that,” he said softly.  “Thank you.  Are you really comfortable calling me ‘Master’?  I would never ask you to do that, Rose.  Not unless you wanted to.”

“I’ve never wanted to before,” I admitted.  “But it just felt right.  You’re only my Master in the bedroom, though,” I stipulated. 

He grinned at me
mischievously.  “What if we’re somewhere more interesting than the bedroom?”

“Okay,” I conceded.  “I will call you ‘Master’ outside the bedroom, if we happen to be fucking elsewhere.”

He tapped his finger against the tip of my nose in reprimand.  “You really should learn to watch your language.  All of this cussing isn’t very lady-like.”

“I seem to recall that you rather enjoyed my dirty mouth when I begged you to slam your cock into my pussy,” I retorted.

He grinned.  “Alright.  From now on, try to keep the cussing inside the bedroom.  Or outside, if we happen to be fucking elsewhere.”  I fought back a smile as he mimicked my words.

“Agreed.”
  I tried to sound solemn, but I couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping.  Clayton laughed with me, the warm sound wrapping around me like rich velvet.  I savored the feeling.  I didn’t ever want to lose this.

Chapter 14

Clayton and I had been officially dating for a little over a week, and – despite my worry for Greg – I was happier than I had ever been in my entire life.  Mercifully, the Kings hadn’t hurt him.  I wasn’t sure if it was my threat that had kept them from doing so.  I really doubted that was the case, but I decided not to question it.  The relief at having my baby brother back and finding him unharmed after he had bravely returned to them filled me with hope.  He was going to get through this.

Clayton had intimated that the FBI would have enough information soon to move in on the tribe of Kings that Greg had been spying on, known as
Los Furiosos
.  It was all going to be over, and Greg was going to get his life back on track.  He was still using, but not to the degree he had been.  It would be physically dangerous for him if he stopped cold turkey without the medical care he would receive in rehab.  His body might just shut down because his dependence had become so acute.  It bothered me that he wasn’t fully clean yet, but I accepted Clayton’s rational explanation that this was actually what was best for Greg.  Still, the drastic reduction in his consumption meant he was lucid more often, and my heart swelled near to bursting every time I was able to see my real brother again.  Even when he was hurting with want and on edge, he was never cruel to me like he had been.  It was a vast improvement, and it made me believe he really could recover, and our relationship would remain intact.

Even Cheryl’s enduring haughtiness couldn’t penetrate my bubble of joy.  Her bitchiness had only spiked when she had seen my head injury, an
d I had had to lie and say I fell.  I couldn’t tell her that I had gotten hurt trying to save my brother from the wrath of the Latin Kings.  She loudly speculated about why I had fallen, her favorite theory being that I had gotten drunk off my face and smashed into a wall.  But I didn’t let it get to me.  It was as though the high from the endorphins that pumped through me when Clayton dominated my body was so potent that it lingered in my bloodstream long after he was done fucking me.

Even though I wasn’t out of the woods yet, my life had never been more perfect
.  The joy Clayton gave me was pure and lasting, fulfilling in a way the cheap highs from alcohol and drugs had never been.  He was the best thing that had ever happened to me, and – incredibly – it seemed he felt the same way about me.

“Where are you taking me?”  I asked, curious and a touch worried.

Clayton shot me a slightly twisted smile as he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.  “You’ll see.”  He had told me this morning that he had a surprise waiting for me after work, and excitement and trepidation had warred within me all day as I wondered what he could possibly have planned for me.  He had taken to the responsibility of being my Master beautifully, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for him.  It felt right to me too, but I couldn’t deny that it was a bit alarming how quickly he had embraced his role.  If I thought he had been ruthless and thoroughly domineering before, what he had now become was all-consuming, claiming my body and mind so deeply that I knew I would never be able to go back to who I was before I had known submission at his hands.  And I didn’t want to go back.

It wasn’t until we had parked and were about to enter a high-rise building that I realized where we were: Smith’s apartment.  I stopped in my tracks, suddenly nervous.

“I think I’m going to have to have a long talk with Smith about what we should do with you.”

I had forgotten his erotic threat until
that moment, and now fear shot through me.  It made my panties wet.  “Master,” I whispered, automatically falling into my submissive role.  “Please…”

I wasn’t sure if I was begging him to take me home or to drag me up to Smith’s apartment.

Clayton paused beside me, turning my body so he could look into my eyes.  His expression was soft, caring.  He touched his fingertips to my face, tracing the line of my jaw.  Even that gentle contact made me want to shiver.  “I think you know what’s coming, Rose,” he said quietly, his tone calm and even.  “If you don’t want it, you can use your safe word now or at any time if you feel uncomfortable.”

But it wasn’t the idea of both men taking me that was really worrying me.  “You don’t mind… sharing me?”  I asked.

He ran the pad of his thumb over my lower lip.  “At one time, I would have thought that,” he admitted.  “But after seeing your reactions when we were both touching you…  You’ve never been more beautiful, Rose.  I want to see that again; I want to give you more of that.  Making you happy makes me happy.”  He shot me a wolfish grin.  “And I know the prospect makes Smith more than happy.”

I shuddered in his grasp, overcome with lust and the intensity of his words.  “I want to make you happy too, Clayton,” I whispered. 
“More than anything.”

He bent to brush his lips against mine.  “I assure you this will make me happy, little sub.”  His hot breath tickled across my skin at his proximity, heightening my lustful anticipation.  “One we go up, I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

“I won’t let you down, Master,” I promised, my voice barely audible.

He kissed my lips lightly again.  “Good girl.  You’re going to enjoy this.”

I nodded jerkily in agreement, my erotic trepidation choking off my ability to speak.

When Smith opened his door, he was smiling at me predatorily.  “Hello, sub,” he said, his pleasure evident
in his tone.  “I’m so glad you’ve decided to join us.”

Us.
 
A small, strangled sound issued from my throat, and Smith laughed softly, his grin turning slightly evil as he stood aside so we could enter.  Clayton guided me in on shaking legs with his hand at the small of my back.

Without sparing me so much as a backward glance, Smith led us through the living room and into his bedroom.  I should have expected it, but my eyes still widened at how blatantly kinky the space w
as.  It was clear Smith had been doing this for years, and he knew exactly what he wanted.  The idea that he would show Clayton what to do with me when it came to using these sort of devices made me quiver with fearful excitement.  Clayton couldn’t have asked for a more experienced guide.

When Clayton pulled away from me, I almost fell to my knees with the loss of his support.  And his suddenly cool, controlled expression didn’t help my efforts to resist the impulse.

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