Savior (An Impossible Novel) Page 11

  “I’ll pick you up at eight and we’ll head over to Smith’s place.” His habit of informing me what our plans were rather than asking me was infuriating. And somewhat sexy.

  Damn it.

  Chapter 9

  “You’re good for him, you know,” Smith informed me casually as he sat down in the armchair across from me.

  “What?” I asked, bewildered.

  Clayton had just left my side for the first time in over three hours, and Smith had swooped in as soon as I was isolated. We had engaged in a few group conversations since I had arrived at his apartment, but now the small gathering was thinning. And Smith seemed content to leave the few guests left to their own devices so that he could corner me. I glanced nervously towards the kitchen to see if Clayton was coming back with our drinks. The prospect of being left alone with Smith without some kind of social buffer was nerve-wracking. Now that I knew who he was – Master S – I couldn’t help but find him intimidating. He looked so casual in his dark-wash jeans and grey t-shirt, but I knew how he looked in black leather with a mask concealing half of his face and a whip in his hand. And that man was kind of terrifying, in a wonderful way.

  “Clayton,” he clarified. “You’re good for him.” The kindness in his eyes made some of my anxiety ease. The man sitting beside me was Clayton’s friend, not a predatory Dom.

  But I was still puzzled by his words. “Why do you say that?” If anything, it was Clayton who was good for me.

  He’s not good for me. He’s too good for me, I mentally corrected myself. Clayton might sometimes make me feel like I could be a better person, but I would never be able to change my past. And Clayton deserved someone better than who I had been, than who I was now.

  “He needs to loosen up,” Smith explained. “And I know you’ll be able to help him with that.” He winked at me.

  “Clayton seems pretty loosened up to me,” I countered. “Nothing gets a rise out of him. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  “That’s his problem: he tries so hard to be the good guy all the time. He carefully adheres to all of the rules and never has any fun. He feels like he fucked up in a big way and now he lives his whole life trying to atone for it.” Smith’s gaze turned inward as he frowned slightly. “But it’s been almost ten years now and the guy hasn’t really been living.”

  “Just because I’ve never lived in poverty that doesn’t mean I haven’t been through my own personal version of hell.”

  “What did he do?” I asked softly. I couldn’t imagine Clayton doing anything wrong. Especially not something so bad that he would spend a decade of his life trying to make up for it.

  “He didn’t do anything,” Smith said firmly. “But we have differing opinions on that.”

  “Smith doesn’t have opinions,” Clayton said jokingly as he approached us. “He has facts. At least, that’s the way he sees it.”

  Smith shrugged. “My opinions are always right. That makes them facts. I don’t see what you don’t understand about this.”

  Clayton rolled his eyes and then directed his gaze at me. “I’m sure you can imagine what a joy it is to work with James here.”

  “As much of a joy as it is to work with you, I’d imagine,” I retorted coolly. “I don’t think I’ve ever known you to be wrong. In your opinion.”

  Smith laughed. “I knew you were good for him,” he declared. “My opinion has once again been proven as fact.”

  It was my turn to roll my eyes. “I can’t imagine anyone enjoys working with the two of you if all you do is try to one-up each other all day. Would you like for me to keep a running tally so we know who’s winning?”

  The amused grin Clayton turned on me had a vicious edge to it. “No, but I believe I’ll keep running a tally. And according to my records, I’m winning.” His hand moved from where it had been resting on my knee to squeeze my upper thigh. He was touching me through my jeans, but his fingers were obscenely close to my sex. Heat pooled low in my belly as desire stirred within me, and I couldn’t help glancing around nervously to see if anyone noticed.

  Mercifully, the few people still remaining in the apartment were chatting in the kitchen; we were completely alone in our little corner. Then my darting gaze met a pair of keen silver eyes, and my heart faltered. We were completely alone except for Smith. The light in those eyes was knowing. And hungry. He was a wolf that had caught the scent of running prey, and he was ready to join the hunt.

  I jumped to my feet, automatically acting on a fight-or-flight impulse in the wake of that stare. And I was choosing flight. “I, um… I need the restroom. Excuse me.”

  I heard Smith chuckle softly behind me as I fled. He sounded far too pleased with himself, and I was tempted to turn on my heel and knock him down a few pegs. But I was too much of a coward, so I continued walking quickly towards the bathroom. Even though Clayton was just getting in touch with his inner Dom, he was intimidating enough on his own. Now that Smith had given me a glimpse of his own Dominant side, the aura of power that surged in our little corner of the room was stifling.

  Once I was locked in the safety of the bathroom, I splashed my face with cold water in an effort to cool my heated skin. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I was chagrined to find that my cheeks were pink and my eyes were wide and over-bright. Ever since Clayton had walked into my life, I had completely lost control of my own body. In the past, I had sought release through kinky games and a little pain, but ultimately I had played on my own terms. I had always been a sexual creature, but now Clayton was ruthlessly manipulating that part of me. Once again, I found that the realization frightened me. But ultimately I still couldn’t resist the pull of walking that knife’s edge of pushing myself to a new sexual extreme without losing myself.

  Taking a few deep breaths, I decided to engage in the challenge. Although a part of me knew I was losing myself, another part thrilled at the idea that Clayton was helping me change for the better. And he wasn’t changing me; he was changing my behavior so I could finally be a version of myself that wasn’t miserable and self-destructive.

  When I re-emerged into the living room, I was dismayed to find that Smith was saying goodbye to the last of his friends as they left the apartment. I walked to Clayton and looped my arm through his.

  “This was really fun, Smith. Thanks for inviting me.”

  But the two Doms shared a conspiratorial look as Smith closed the door. The sound of the lock sliding home was ominous.

  “We’re not leaving just yet,” Clayton informed me in that cool, controlled tone that told me I was in trouble.

  Oh, shit. What had I done wrong?

  I swallowed hard and glanced from one stony expression to the other. Smith had his arms folded over his chest, his stance making him appear suddenly larger.

  “Clayton tells me that you’ve been insulting him.” His tone was reproving. “I know you’ve been on the BDSM scene for long enough to know that’s unacceptable.”

  I tried to take a step back, but Clayton’s hand was suddenly vice-like on my upper arm. His grin was positively evil. “Smith has been kind enough to offer to help show me how to deal with your infractions. Now would be the time to use your safe word if you want to get out of this.”

  My fearful shudder was visible, and Clayton’s expression softened slightly, a hint of his usual kindness shining out of his eyes.

  “If you consent, we will both touch you, Rose. But it won’t go any further than that,” he promised.

  An undeniably enticing image of both of these strong, gorgeous men penetrating me flitted across my mind, and I licked my lips unconsciously. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that; I had never been with two men before. But the prospect of being utterly helpless in the hands of the two Doms was too tempting for me to refuse.

  I closed my lips firmly and managed a small nod, letting Clayton know that I didn’t want to use my safe word. Lust flared in his eyes and his fingers tangled in my hair as he tilted my head back so he could crush his lips to mine. His
tongue swept into my mouth without preamble, claiming me with hot, demanding strokes. I moaned up into him as I melted for him, practically quivering in his arms in ecstatic anticipation of what was about to happen to me.

  There was a sudden warmth at my back, and then I was being touched by two pairs of hands. I jerked in shock as I gasped into Clayton’s mouth, but he held me firmly, refusing to allow me the opportunity to run. Even if he hadn’t been holding me, escaping them would have been impossible. The heat of them engulfed me, sending flames of desire licking across my flesh.

  Smith’s fingers dipped beneath the hem of my shirt, his hands gliding up my sides as he slowly exposed me. After he had peeled off my tank top, his lips grazed my neck. All of my nerve endings jumped to life, and my skin pebbled. I trembled as pleasure washed over me, rippling from his lips to my core.

  My fingers were digging into Clayton’s arms through his shirt, clinging onto him for support. He began to unbutton my jeans, finally releasing my mouth to trail soft kisses down my chest and stomach as he bent to slide my pants down my legs. As he did so, Smith bit down on the sensitive flesh where my neck met my shoulder. His hand dipped into my bra at the same time, and he pinched my aching nipple viciously. The contrast of the sharp pain he gave me with Clayton’s tender touches was nearly enough to send me over the edge. I sagged back against Smith as my muscles turned to jelly.

  Clayton pressed a soft kiss against my clit through my lacy panties as Smith ruthlessly twisted my nipple. My harsh cry filled the space around us, and I could feel Smith’s hardening cock jerk against my ass.

  “So sensitive,” he rumbled in my ear. “You’re a lucky man, Clayton. Thanks for sharing.”

  The way he talked about me as though I was nothing more than their plaything made my inner muscles clench as my need spiraled impossibly higher.

  “I’d be luckier if she was more polite,” Clayton remarked. “I believe you said you would help me with that.”

  I had a brief moment to register the smell of hemp before Smith forced my wrists together in front of me, ensnaring them with rope.

  “This is your most basic tie,” he informed Clayton as he looped more rope between my wrists, fashioning makeshift handcuffs. He slipped one finger through the small gap between my skin and the rope. “There needs to be enough room so that you won’t cut off her circulation, but not so much that she can get free.” He abruptly grasped the length of rope that was attached to my cuffs and jerked it upward. My arms were forced over my head, and my elbows bent to relieve some of the pressure. Smith pulled the length of it taut down the center of my back, and my hands fisted as they came to rest at the nape of my neck. The position thrust out my breasts so that they were offered up to Clayton. Even though I was still wearing my bra, my cheeks flamed in embarrassment at my flagrant exposure.

  “Isn’t that beautiful?” Smith asked.

  Clayton trailed his fingers over the tops of my breasts, and I shivered under his touch as he nodded his agreement.

  Smith drew the rope around my chest so that it encircled my body before he looped it back through itself at my spine. He pulled it tight, and the feeling of the rough material sliding across my skin elicited a moan from deep in my chest.

  “This is called a karada. It’s a basic chest harness,” he explained to Clayton as he continued to wind the rope around my chest in a complicated tie, wrapping it around the back of my neck and drawing it between my breasts. As he worked, I could feel my blood flow being restricted and redirected, making my breasts swell. My tender flesh became so hyper-sensitive that even the slightest brush of Clayton’s breath over it made me ache.

  “Shibari is a form of Japanese bondage. It can take a while to learn, but I would be more than happy to provide you with more demonstrations.” Although I couldn’t see his face, I could practically feel Smith’s wicked grin behind me.

  My shout was strangled and animalistic when Clayton touched my breasts again. Even though he stroked them lightly, the intense pleasure he brought forth made my head spin.

  I found myself trapped in his hungry eyes, and my lips parted as my breath came in sharp, shallow gasps. His smile was twisted. “I would like that,” he told Smith.

  Satisfied with his tie, Smith gripped my waist and roughly directed my body where he wanted me to go. I stumbled as I fought to remember how to move my legs. His hand pressed between my shoulder blades, and he shoved me hard. The wind was knocked out of me as my stomach hit the back of the couch. Unable to catch myself on my hands, I was helpless to stop myself from bending forward, leaving my ass exposed. My only scrap of modesty was my skimpy thong, and that did nothing to hide my body from them.

  “Now,” Smith said softly to Clayton as his finger traced the line of my spine, running downward from my neck until he reached the little dip where my lower back met my ass. I moaned and writhed beneath him as he traced a circular pattern there, making the little secret bundle of nerves jump to life in the most delicious way. “I believe you said you’ve been keeping a tally of her infractions. Just how much trouble is she in?”

  “The count currently stands at six,” Clayton informed his friend. But he was looking at me, and the steely glint in his eye made a sliver of fear knife through my gut.

  I dropped my gaze, as though I could hide from his retribution so long as I didn’t look at him directly. But that was a mistake. My eyes instantly fell on his crotch, and his evident arousal made my tongue dart out to wet my suddenly dry lips.

  Don’t look there, I ordered myself. I averted my gaze again, but this time it riveted on his belt. How was he going to punish me? Oh, god, would he…?

  Clayton addressed me personally for the first time since we had begun to play, and my eyes snapped back to his. “I couldn’t help but notice that you have a certain fascination with my belt.” His smile as he unbuckled it was positively vicious. “I wonder why that is?”

  “Please.” My voice was a strangled whisper, and I wasn’t sure if I was pleading for mercy or if I was begging him to strike me.

  My heart was racing. It beat madly against my ribcage as I watched Clayton fold over his belt before he disappeared behind me. I tried to crane my head back so I could see him, but my bindings prevented me from doing so. My breasts throbbed delectably where they pressed into the couch cushions. The men were silent behind me, and the sound of my rapid breaths seemed to echo around the room.

  When they finally did touch me, I jumped at the shock of the sudden contact. The supple leather of Clayton’s belt glided across my ass. Despite the gentleness of its touch, it communicated a silent threat of what was to come. In contrast, Smith’s fingernails raked down my back, confusing my senses and jumbling my ability to think as the men inflicted two diametrically opposed sensations on me simultaneously.

  My hips ground against the couch as my body instinctively sought the release I so desperately needed. I heard the snap of the belt just before the pain registered. God, it hurt. A stripe of searing heat bloomed deep within my flesh. It spread rapidly to the surface and made my skin sting something fierce. But at the same time, the heat raced to my pussy, and I could feel wetness trickling onto my thighs. My body’s visceral reaction to the pain was so shocking that I couldn’t even cry out; all I could do was draw in a ragged gasp.

  “Don’t move.” Clayton’s cold command drifted down to me through the fog that was beginning to roll over my mind, stifling my ability to think. “This is a punishment. You won’t receive pleasure until I decide to give it to you. That was a warning. You still have six more.”

  I whimpered, torn between fear and carnal hunger.

  “Don’t worry,” Smith said to Clayton. “My neighbors are accustomed to hearing screams coming from my apartment.” I heard his soft laugh just before the sound was drowned out by the second snap of the belt. The hits came in rapid, merciless succession, and the world fell away as the pleasure/pain consumed me. I desperately wanted it to stop, and I never wanted it to end.

  When the
blows ceased, the pain lingered as my ass throbbed and burned. My sense of sight was obscured by a red haze, but I could still hear Smith’s command.

  “Apologize.”

  “I’m…” I struggled to find my voice. “I’m sorry, Clayton.” Despite my pain – or perhaps because of it – I was still burning with desperate desire. “Please,” I begged. “I need… I’m sorry.”

  “That’s a good girl,” Smith rumbled his approval. I gasped and my back arched as his nails gently raked across my enflamed skin.

  Yes! Touch me. Please…

  Clayton responded to my silent pleading, and he roughly drove two fingers between my desire-slicked folds. At the same time, he pinched my clit sharply as Smith continued to stroke me.

  My orgasm hit me with the force of a mac truck, and I screamed as my inner walls contracted. It went on and on, Clayton’s fingers continuing to pump in and out of me until he had wrung every last drop of pleasure from me.

  I was trembling as Smith released me from my bonds. Clayton gathered me up in his arms and cradled me to his chest as I floated in my bliss-filled haze.

  “Thank you,” I whispered mindlessly as I snuggled into him. He kissed the top of my head affectionately, and I relished the feeling of being warm and safe and cared for.

  Chapter 10

  I was a nervous wreck. Three days had passed since my incredibly hot night with Clayton and Smith, and Clayton was falling into his new Dominant persona far too quickly for my comfort levels. Every night, passion would cloud my judgment and I would find myself in his arms, cherishing the heady release and the feeling of being cared for.

  But during the day, my mind would backpedal, making me question the prudence of my actions. I was rapidly becoming addicted to him, becoming dependent on him. That was disconcerting. I had taken care of myself for my entire life and had taken on the responsibility of caring for my kid brother as well. If I lost my independence, would I be capable of looking after Greg? He had been my whole life for so long, and I didn’t know how to function without him. I felt guilty for spending so much time with Clayton. Greg was twisted and cruel right now, but he didn’t deserve my abandonment.