Traded for Love Read online

Page 9


  “Don't you dare!” I snapped, grabbing her wrist and yanking her back. “Don't you fucking dare leave me like that.” Desperate to get my point across, I found I couldn't tear my gaze from her, her beautiful face, her half-lidded eyes. “If you think you can drive me crazy, make me lose control, and walk out of my life forever, you've got another thing coming.” I pulled her tightly against me. Her curves, those maddening, supple curves fit perfectly against my frame. “I never lose control,” I growled. “Tonight was not enough. I want to taste every part of you, touch every inch of your skin, put fire in every last one of your nerves. I want to make you lose your mind the way you made me lose mine.” If I could have crushed her into me, if I could have woven her body with mine so she couldn't get away, I would have. I tightened my grip on the fabric of her dress, the only barrier that kept my fingernails from raking across her skin. “You can pretend all you want, but I know you want to see me again. That's why I'm coming back tomorrow, because even though you're trying your best, you can't hide it. You want me to come back. You want me to drive you crazy. Because when we met, you felt something. We both did.” Her look of lofty surprise drove my passion through the roof. “Admit it.”

  Her expression softened as she soundlessly leaned in. I could feel her breath on my lips. “Come back tomorrow,” she whispered.

  Before I could claim that delectable mouth of hers, she slipped out of my arms and out the door. I stood in the tiny cell that had been my sexual Heaven for the past hour, alone, bereft of words, wanting her worse than I had before.

  Christ. What has this woman done to me?

  I pulled on my jacket, trying to will away the new erection she'd inspired. There were doubts in my mind as to whether I'd ever get her out of my system.

  I inhaled the scent of our coupling, which hung in the air like a sweet perfume. The hope that I might be able to demonstrate my true abilities the next day made me wish I could sleep until tomorrow night. God knew I was exhausted enough to sleep away the time.

  Suddenly, all I wanted to do was go home and collapse. I stepped out into the hall and saw Julia standing there. The mascara stains on her face were evidence enough that she was upset.

  When her eyes met mine, my emotions hardened. “What?”

  “Did you have a good time?” she asked.

  I straightened my collar and shot her a look of masterful confidence. “Yes.”

  She averted her gaze and sniffed loudly. “How could you?”

  I grunted. “Julia, I don't have time for your petty jealousy. You knew what this was. You knew why we came here. You invited me to come with you, for God's sake.” I scoffed. “Don't act like you didn't get anything out of it. He must have shit a brick when he saw the chastity device.” I laughed. “Did he make you suck him off instead? Did he even scratch the surface of the sick shit you like?” I couldn't suppress the chuckle that rattled out of my chest.

  Julia pushed away from the wall she'd been leaning on, looked me square in the face and slapped me across the cheek. “You're despicable.”

  My cheek stung as my anger rose. I seized her by the shoulders and shoved her against the wall more gently than I would have if I'd let my rage come to a head. “Yeah, say it again! Tell me how much of a bastard I am. Tell me I'm heartless. Tell me I'm ruthless because I fucked another woman when I could have fucked you, or my wife, or any other damn woman in here. All you'll do is get me harder.” I brought my mouth close to hers. “You're mad because you're in love with me, but I don't love you. You're mad because you don't understand how I can fuck the shit out of you and not feel anything for you. Want to know the truth? Want to know the big secret about me that you should have guessed before now?” I leaned in so my lips brushed her earlobe. “I can't love. I've tried. But to me, all women are worthless cheaters. They fuck anything that moves. Vows be damned. All women are cheap. Even ones like you who start out innocent and pure become slutty whores for the biggest, baddest cock in the room.” I ran my hand down the front of her body, grazing her nipples, her stomach and the crest of her thighs with my fingers. “I'm the biggest, baddest cock in the room. And you're no better than a neglected puppy, crying over me in a hallway while I fuck another woman, a woman I don't even love.”

  I lifted away from her ear, and looked her in the eye. “I want to come again. Now, will you submit to me and accept your punishment for striking me? Or are you going to go home and finger yourself through the device because you wish you'd gotten fucked by me?”

  The color in her cheeks gave me my answer.

  I grabbed her wrist in my hand and took her back into the room I'd just come out of.

  “Take your clothes off,” I ordered as I closed the door behind us.

  She shrugged out of the dress and let it drop to the floor. A tear fell over her cheek as she stood naked, except the chastity device and her heels, in front of me.

  “There,” I said, pointing to the modest, leather-upholstered spanking bench against the wall.

  She crossed to it and knelt on the lower step, settling her stomach on the upper shelf.

  My belt's buckle rattled when I undid it. I snapped the leather between my hands. My shadow slid menacingly over her back as I stepped up to deliver the first blow. “Do you know why you're being punished?”

  A noisy sniff escaped her. “Yes, Master.”

  “Tell me what you did wrong, slut,” I hissed.

  “I hit you, sir,” she sobbed.

  I lashed her with the belt.

  “Ah! Fuck!” she cried out.

  “Want more?” I shouted.

  “Yes, sir! Please spank me again!” she begged.

  I struck her again, so hard that her calf muscles flexed. The leather left behind a nice red mark that began to swell almost immediately.

  For five minutes, I wailed on her, taking out my frustrations on the curve of her ass. Why couldn't she be her instead? Why couldn't it be her begging for the pain?

  By the time I stopped, I was out of breath. Julia was sobbing.

  “Have you learned your lesson?” I asked. “Do you want more?”

  “I … I want whatever you want, Master,” she said.

  I took a fistful of her hair and gently tugged her across the room, guiding her to the bed. I pushed her upper body over onto the bed. She braced herself. “Oh Julia,” I said, unzipping my pants, “you can't possibly give me everything I want.”

  I found my keys in my pocket and the tiny key that would unlock my slave's pussy. I disengaged the lock and pulled the lower piece of the belt off, then tossed it onto the pillows.

  Almost on its own, my cock sprung out of my boxers, eager to fuck anything if it would help ease the burn of wanting the other woman. Anything to lessen the ache. She was dripping wet, but I smirked when I saw her asshole flinch.

  Inspired to fuck her there instead of her pussy, I spit on that tight entrance.

  “You know what I want, slut?” I growled.

  “What do you want, Master?” she moaned desperately.

  I gripped the hair that lay over her shoulders and yanked her head back. “I want you to be her.”

  An impossible request … I knew it was.

  She sobbed again, but I put a stop to that with the head of my cock, which I pressed into her asshole. “That's right. You want it, don't you? Who's despicable now?!” I asked triumphantly. She didn't respond, so I gave her hair a pull. “I asked you a question, slave.”

  “Me, Master, I'm despicable!” she answered.

  “That's right. You love this. You love this cock that fucks other woman, don't you?” I swatted her beet-red ass-cheek as I fed her two inches of my dick.

  “Yes! Yes! I love your cock, sir!”

  Of course she did. As I slid all the way in, she was arching her back like a cat in heat. I knew it was torture. She'd told me many times that receiving anal just made her pussy hotter for me. In a sense, it was worse than most other punishments because her cunt was wide open but empty and desperate to be filled.


  Her ass was tight, and I reveled in the feeling of sliding in and out of that forbidden place, the place that only I could fuck, because I owned her.

  “That's right,” I growled as I quickened my pace, “you're mine, aren't you slut?”

  “Yes, sir, I'm … yours. Please, don't stop, Master!” As she begged, she moved back against me, taking all of me to satisfy her craving. I cursed her on every other stroke.

  Her moans became more insistent.

  “Is that a complaint?” I asked, slamming into her without reprieve.

  “No, sir!”

  “You're not about to come without permission are you?”

  “N—no!”

  “You're fucking lying!” I spanked her good and hard. “You want to come, don't you, slut?”

  “Yes, Master, please allow me to come!”

  “Oh, but that means I'd have to bother fucking your pussy. Is it even worth it?” I feigned a sigh and slid out of her. Just like a good slave, she maintained herself to the point that there was never any mess from using any part of her.

  Always the good girl, aren't you, bitch? I thought.

  “Beg,” I commanded.

  “Please, fuck my pussy,” she entreated. “Please, sir. I want your cock so bad. I'll do anything!”

  “Spread your cunt, bitch. I'm going to fuck you til you're numb,” I threatened.

  She reached back and used her hands to open herself up. The glistening lips parted like a blooming flower. My cock throbbed in approval. No one else had access to her except me, thanks to the device, not that she would even consider fucking someone else. Knowing that I controlled her pleasure almost made it okay that she wasn't the other woman. Almost.

  Without priming her, I buried myself inside of her. Her muscles flexed around me, welcome, inviting, sucking me in.

  I couldn't make the other slave come, but Julia was going to have several to make up for it. And tomorrow, I would bring the other woman to her knees.

  Making Julia come was easy. I knew exactly which buttons to press.

  With each thrust, I felt her polished fingernails against my skin. She was so wide open and yet so tight, so unused, yet so very used, dirty … soiled.

  “Fucking come, you slut. Come right now!” I shouted.

  “So close!” she promised. “I'm so close, Master!”

  “I'm not stopping until you come, Julia! Come, damn you!” I pumped her until I was moving at breakneck speed.

  Finally, with a loud scream, she gave in, let the crash happen. As she melted, white-hot around me, I kept up the dialog. “That's right, bitch. That orgasm is on loan. I expect to get it back.”

  Inside, I felt the euphoric wash. Sweet control. I'd forgotten how good it was.

  She collapsed onto the bed. My cock bobbed in the air, dripping with the evidence that it'd been a while since she'd had an orgasm.

  “Lick it clean,” I demanded.

  Out of breath and exhausted, she turned around on shaky knees and settled her sore ass on the bed.

  She knew the drill when it came to sucking me off.

  With her hands flat on the bed, she opened her mouth as wide as she could, lay her tongue out and waited.

  I stepped up to her, took the sides of her head in the palms of my hands and guided her open mouth onto the head of my cock.

  Just as she had many times, she took the entire length without flinching. We'd spent a long time training her throat. Emily hadn't mastered this, not that I'd pushed the issue. No, Julia was perfect for this when I needed it.

  Without mercy, I fucked her mouth. Once in a while she let out a small gag, but I knew it was just for show. She had no trouble servicing me until the end.

  I thought of the woman I'd fucked an hour before. As I shot my load into Julia's mouth, it wasn't the memory of how good the other woman felt, or even how pretty she was, it was the look in her eyes as she told me no.

  Don't worry, honey, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be saying yes to me … over and over again.

  (Emily)

  The front door opened and closed. I hadn't been able to fall asleep. I lay awake in our bed wondering where Jack had gone and whether he would come back that night.

  He came into the bedroom. I heard him take a deep breath and untie his tie. Groaning, he went into the bathroom. The toilet flushed. Then, for fifteen minutes, the shower ran.

  When he returned, he was naked and dripping wet.

  “Jack?” I asked quietly.

  He grunted. “I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep.”

  “I'm sorry about earlier.”

  His silhouette was all I could see, the only light being the moonlight streaming in through the blinds of the closest window. He'd been drying his hair with a towel, but he stopped and tossed it on the dresser.

  “It's okay,” he said.

  “Are you coming to bed?” I asked.

  “Yeah. I'm tired.” He climbed in beside me but as far away as possible.

  His breathing slowed and I curled up to his back. “Jack?”

  “Jesus, you're cold,” he complained, pulling the sheet up to his neck.

  “Sorry.” I licked my dry lips. “Jack, do you remember our wedding day?”

  “Hm?” He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah.”

  “Remember what you told me?” I asked.

  He didn't answer. A moment later, a snore rumbled from his chest.

  I sighed, turned over and stared at the wall.

  I stood in front of the mirror adjusting the pearls that had been threaded through my hair. Kim was busy lacing up the back of my wedding gown. I felt more beautiful than ever in that dress.

  “There,” Kim said, smiling at me over my shoulder, “You're buttoned in back here.”

  “Thanks,” I said. When our eyes met in the mirror, both of us got teary.

  Kim spun me slowly. “I can't believe it. It seems like just yesterday you were running around in diapers and now you're getting married. I'm so happy for you.” She grinned. “You're so gorgeous. Dad would have cried.” We laughed together. “And mom … mom would have definitely been a mess!”

  She swept away a tear before it left a trail down her cheek.

  “I love you, Kim.”

  “I love you, too,” she said, folding me into a tight hug.

  The door opened, interrupting our Kodak moment.

  “Jack!” I exclaimed. He looked stunning in his classic tux. “Go away! You can't see me before the wedding! It's bad luck!”

  “Nonsense. That's just an old superstition. Kim, I'd like a moment alone with Emily if you don't mind.” He stepped in and held the door open for her.

  She cocked an eyebrow. “I'm not sure why I ever expected you keep to tradition.” With a shake of her head, she gave in to Jack's wishes and stepped out.

  His face was serious as he closed and locked the door.

  “What is it? Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “Nothing's wrong.”

  I was anything but assured.

  “Are you … sure? You're acting strange.”

  “I wanted to talk to you before we do this.” He strode across the room and looked me up and down.

  “What's wrong? You can tell me.” I took his hands in mine.

  His blue eyes looked into mine. “I want to hear you say that you're mine.”

  I chuckled. “Of course I am, silly.”

  “I'm fucking serious,” he spat.

  I was taken aback by his harsh tone. “Jack, I am yours. I promise.”

  “Say it. Say you belong to me.” His gaze penetrated me to my core. He looked afraid and it was contagious.

  “I belong to you,” I repeated.

  He dropped my hands and turned his back to me. “Fuck.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “It's not enough. … Why isn't it enough?!”

  “You don't believe me?” Tears stung my eyes.

  “No … no.” He turned back. “I believe you. I'm sorry.” He heaved a deep breath. “I'
m sorry. I guess I'm just nervous. I needed to hear it again.”

  I fought the tears and gave him the biggest smile I could muster. “I'm yours, Jack Duncan. To cherish. To have and to hold.”

  His face hardened. “Right. To have … and to hold.” He bent and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. “Forever.”

  I nodded. “That's right.” I stroked his forehead gently. “Forever.”

  “To have and to hold,” I whispered to myself as the memory faded. “To hold.”

  It was then that I realize he'd never repeated the part about cherishing me.

  Then I wondered if I should be surprised.

  The next morning, I turned over to continue our conversation from the previous night. Jack was gone.

  I sighed and sat up. I'd passed the restless night thinking of his words. He'd begged me to promise him I was his. What had he meant by, “It's not enough?” Enough for what?

  A headache was already forming at my temples, so I headed for the shower to try and ease it away. When that didn't help, I took aspirin and got dressed.

  Katherine was laughing hysterically at something. Hearing her be happy reduced my misery—at least a little. Eager to escape from the memory of last night, I went into the nursery to see Donna sitting on the floor, stacking blocks into a tower.

  “Look! Mama's here!” Donna announced.

  Katherine clapped her hands together, then reached out for me.

  “Good morning, baby!” I knelt beside them on the carpet and took my daughter in my arms. “Good morning to you too, Donna.”

  The nanny smiled. “She's going to be running around soon.”

  “Is that so?” I asked Katherine, giving her a squeeze. “Well, we'll have to get a baby gate, then, won't we?”

  In response, the baby gave me a devious grin. I'd seen that look before … on her father's face. The resemblance she had to him was strongest when she was misbehaving. I was suddenly afraid of her teenage years.

  Calm down, Emily, she's not nearly there yet.

  “So, Mrs. Duncan, what will you do today?” Donna asked.

  My thoughts wandered to the stranger in the bookstore. He'd irritated the shit out of me and yet, I wanted to see him again. He'd challenged me, in a way. For some reason, I wanted to answer that challenge by … well, I wasn't sure how.