Savior (An Impossible Novel) Read online

  “The walls are paper thin, Rose,” he informed me, his voice rougher now. “Did you really think I couldn’t hear you?”

  “Clayton…” His name was a defeated moan as I arched up into him. God, I had never wanted anything as intensely as I craved his touch.

  He pulled away from me, depriving me of the heat of his body. Our only physical contact now was his firm grip on my upper arm. Without a word, he turned to leave the apartment, pulling me along in his wake. I tried to resist, jerking against his hold.

  “Wait,” I practically panted. “Let’s just stay here.”

  The look he gave me as he continued his steady progress told me I deserved my suffering. “You brought this upon yourself, Rose,” he informed me. “Our bargain was that you would come to dinner with me and I would ravage you afterward. I haven’t gotten any release since last night, and I’ll be damned if you will.”

  I glared up at him. “Bastard,” I spat.

  “I believe that’s four now,” he responded calmly.

  Shit. I had forgotten about his tally. Four what? I wondered as erotic excitement flooded me. It was only made sweeter by the little zing of fear that made my skin pebble. Clayton had promised me punishment. What did he have planned for me?

  Despite my torment, I was suddenly very glad that Clayton had forced his way into my apartment.

  Give him your body, not your heart, I reminded myself. I could do that. I had to. Otherwise I was going to spontaneously combust.

  My discomfiture at the insistent throbbing between my legs made me cross and uncross my legs half a dozen times as Clayton drove towards the Lower East Side. I was relieved that we would be dining somewhere close to his apartment; we could get to his bedroom quickly after we ate. I half-hoped he would just take me to McDonald’s so we could get in and out and on to the good stuff. Plus, that would minimize the opportunity for conversation, thereby making my new resolution easier to keep.

  But I had no such luck. Clayton had made a reservation for us at a family-owned authentic Italian restaurant. The entire place smelled heavenly, and I suddenly realized I was ravenous. This would be a welcome departure from my usual diet of granola bars and ramen. Still, I was hungrier for Clayton than I was for ravioli.

  “So,” he began casually once we had been seated, “why did you lie to me?” The affable, sweet persona which seemed to be Clayton’s default – when he wasn’t being a no-bull FBI agent or a thoroughly intimidating Dom – was back.

  I shifted uneasily in my chair. His demeanor might be easygoing, but already he was cutting straight to the core of me, trying to further expose my secrets. I couldn’t allow that; no way could I admit to him that the way he made me feel scared me. If I told him that, he would just try to fix it. But that would only make everything that much worse for me.

  “Well,” I wracked my brain for a believable story. “After Greg saw us together this morning, I thought maybe being with me would cause problems for you at work. You said it’s happened before, right? I figured it would be easier to nip it in the bud.”

  Clayton looked at me seriously. “I appreciate your concern, Rose, but I would rather you just asked me about it instead of shutting me out without consulting me. You were the one who pointed out that we got together before I was assigned to your case. Sure, it’s a bit of a grey area, but Sharon and Smith – the other agents who are watching over you and Greg – aren’t going to go tattling on me. So unless you were to make a complaint, then the department will look the other way. Besides, what happened before didn’t get me in trouble with the FBI; I just caused my own personal shitstorm with that one.”

  The way his eyes clouded over with an echo of remembered pain made jealousy twist my gut. But the look was fleeting. He blinked hard, and his gaze focused on me once again. “Things are fine now, though,” he assured me with a small smile. “Claudia and I actually ended up becoming really good friends.”

  I wasn’t quite successful in concealing my discontent. He was still in touch with her?

  He reached across the table and captured my hand in his. “Hey,” he said gently. “That’s all in the past. A certain gorgeous damsel in distress now has my full attention.”

  “So you fancy yourself as some sort of white knight then, huh?” I asked cuttingly. “That’s rather big-headed of you, don’t you think? Besides, you’re far too unchivalrous to be a white knight.”

  His overly dramatic look of hurt was comical. I obviously hadn’t succeeded in getting under his skin. “Ouch. You sure know how to knock a guy down a few pegs.”

  “What can I say? Your ego was getting out of control. I’ve clearly created a monster.” My tone was teasing now, and I could feel a smile playing around my lips. He was far too charming for my own good, and I couldn’t deny that his levity was catching.

  Clayton laughed easily. “I can’t argue with that. To be completely honest, it’s a side of me I’m not all that familiar with. It’s probably good if you keep it in check from time to time.” His smile turned slightly predatory. “But unfortunately for you, I know you like the monster.”

  “Now that’s something I can’t argue with,” I admitted.

  “I know,” he said, sounding far too smug.

  I rolled my eyes at him. “There you go getting cocky again already.”

  “Terribly sorry. I’ll try harder to be good.” But his flashing eyes held no apology, only amusement. It made my pussy clench.

  “Please don’t,” I said drily. “I wouldn’t want to put you through such strain.”

  He shrugged agreeably. “Okay. If you insist.”

  He was so implacable. It was infuriating. Nothing seemed to rile him; he calmly refused to allow me to manipulate him. I was again struck by my inability to control the situation whenever I was near him. It was what made him so damn sexy, but it was also what made him scary as hell.

  Even when he did get angry, he was still carefully controlled. I thought of the cool tone he used when threatening Greg and those asshole college boys. His calm assurance of his own power was far more terrifying than the aggressive attitude of the beefcake bad boys I usually went for. The only times his tight rein on his anger had slipped were the times I had pissed him off by doing something stupid and reckless. And when he turned that intensity on me, I wanted to be better than what I was.

  Damn it. This was precisely why I had tried to back out on dinner. He was too intriguing for my own good. I had been getting along just fine before I had met him. Okay, so maybe I hadn’t been perfectly happy, and maybe my rash behavior was self-destructive, but it worked for me. Clayton was trying to save me, to make me better. But I didn’t know how to be better, and I was fairly certain that the precarious existence I had fashioned for myself would crumble if I tried. My wild little adventures helped relieve the pressure of my problems. If I gave them up, I feared I would be crushed under the weight.

  But I knew Clayton’s body could provide the release I sought. Unfortunately, he might rip me apart emotionally. I had always enjoyed playing with fire; the threat of getting burned was what made my adventures all the more thrilling, more all-consuming. Trusting myself to be around Clayton and not get emotionally involved was going to be the most dangerous thing I had ever done. I found the prospect too enticing to resist. Especially when he was looking at me like he was right now, his lips twisted up in a knowing smirk and his eyes flashing.

  Throwing caution to the wind, I smiled at him slyly. “So you’ve been doing some research, huh?” I asked, deciding it was best to keep the conversation sexual. “The internet can be a pretty disgusting place. Should I be worried about what’s piqued your interest? Because there are some things I am most definitely not up for.”

  Clayton just nodded sagely. “We can discuss hard limits if you’d like, but I don’t think anything I have in mind will be out of your comfort zone. And I haven’t been diving into the seedy underbelly of the internet. I have a friend who has been trying to talk to me about BDSM for years. He was only
too happy to share when I asked him about it.”

  Hard limits? BDSM? The man had done his homework. Apparently this friend of his was pretty knowledgeable.

  “If he’s been talking to you about it for years, then why are you just now exploring it?” I asked, genuinely curious. “You’ve taken to it awfully quickly for someone who’s never been all that interested.”

  Clayton’s expression turned thoughtful. “I did experiment a little with my college girlfriend. We dated for almost two years, and you start to try out different things to spice things up after that length of time. But I suppose…” He hesitated, and I saw that flash of pain in his eyes again. “I haven’t been that serious with anyone since then. And it takes a certain level of trust to venture into kinky territory.”

  I found it hard to believe that Clayton hadn’t had any serious relationships in, what, eight years or so? He was sweet, successful, and gorgeous. Women should have been tripping over themselves to ensnare him. I wondered what had happened with his girlfriend to scar him so deeply that he had been alone for so long. Was he still in love with her or something? The thought made me cold.

  “You got pretty damn kinky with me, and you didn’t even know me,” I pointed out.

  He cocked his head at me. “I could tell it was what you wanted. You’re a force of nature, Rose. You have a wild streak, but that wildness will tear you apart if it’s not contained, controlled. I told you: I have a thing for damsels in distress. If taming that side of you is what I need to do in order to help you, then that’s what I’ll do. That’s what I want. And I know it’s what you want.”

  The truth of his earnest words made my breath catch in my throat. How could he see me so clearly?

  “Besides,” he added with an impish smile, “the night I met you was the hottest night of my life. Helping you isn’t my only motive here; I want more of that.”

  “I don’t think I like being considered a ‘damsel in distress,’ but if that’s the outcome, I guess I don’t mind so much,” I said breathily.

  Clayton flashed me a pleased smile. “So long as we’re on the same page, I think we can overlook differing semantics.”

  I returned his grin. “I can get on board with that.”

  Having come to that erotic agreement, dinner passed by in a haze. I’m sure the food was delicious, but I barely registered the flavors. I was hungry for something else. Our conversation was pleasant, but I wasn’t really engaged in what was being said. I mostly allowed Clayton to talk while I made noises of agreement and occasionally prompted him to continue carrying the conversation. He tried to ask me a few personal questions, but I deflected him with practiced ease. When I did so, he frowned slightly, but I was relieved when he didn’t push me.

  I barely stifled a thankful sigh when we finally left the restaurant. It took less than ten minutes to walk to his apartment, but the wait became more and more agonizing as my pussy pulsed in time with my every step. Our only contact was Clayton’s arm around my waist, but even that barest touch through my clothes made my skin tingle after being denied for so long. I felt as though I had been enduring this sexual torment for weeks rather than less than twenty-four hours. Clayton had said he intended to tame me. The thought sent pleasurable trepidation coursing through me.

  He physically demonstrated his intent to control me as soon as we entered his apartment. Gripping me firmly by the waist, he bent and lifted me effortlessly. The world blurred around me and I found myself thrown over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.

  “Hey!” I cried, surprised and slightly indignant. My eyes widened with shock and I gasped in a sharp breath when his hand came down hard on my ass. Had sweet, easygoing Clayton really just spanked me? He had promised me punishment, and it seemed he was going to make good on that promise.

  “Quiet.” His voice had the cool, controlled quality that communicated his confidence in his complete power over me. The sound of it made me shudder delightedly.

  All of the wind was knocked out of me as he flung me down on the bed unceremoniously. I was momentarily disoriented, and he took advantage. He flipped me onto my front and straddled my hips, pinning me down with his weight as he swiftly wrapped something silky around my wrists, securing them behind my back. The material was soft, but when I pulled against the restraints I found that I was securely bound. I twisted my head back, and I realized he had used his necktie to restrain me. This had barely registered when he shifted me again, easily manhandling my body. Already he was eliciting feelings of vulnerability as he demonstrated my helplessness to his physical strength. It made my nipples tighten and my core throb.

  He draped me across his knees where he sat at the edge of the bed. My ass was thrust upward, and my long hair fell around my face, obscuring my vision. Oh, god. I knew what was coming next; I had been in this position before. I gasped at the shock of cool air hitting my sex as he flipped up my skirt and roughly yanked my panties down to my knees. Clayton gently touched his fingers to my inner thigh, swirling in the wet evidence of my intense arousal. His soft laugh was slightly evil as I squirmed in his lap. The movement made me acutely aware of his own desire for me as his erection pressed into my stomach.

  When he spoke, his tone was matter-of-fact, almost detached. “I believe I gave you fair warning that I was going to punish you.” A lustful groan escaped me as he traced the curve of my ass with a feather-light touch. I arched my back, offering myself up to him.

  “More,” I begged, half-delirious with need. “Please, Clayton.”

  “Not yet,” he told me softly. “You have to earn it.”

  I whined and ground my hips against him, trying desperately to achieve some kind of release. His hand instantly fisted in my hair, pulling my head back so I had no choice but to look into his eyes. They were glinting with amusement.

  “And that’s not the way to go about it,” he informed me dispassionately.

  “I’m not so sure I like this friend of yours who’s taught you these tricks,” I declared irritably, my frustration getting the better of me.

  His fingers stroked my ass again, and I shuddered. “But you like it,” he informed me. “You can protest all you want, but your body tells me everything I need to know.” His grin was wicked.

  “God damn it, Clayton!” I snapped. “Touch me already!”

  He tutted at me. “If you insist.” His palm came down on me hard, hitting the sensitive flesh where my ass met my thighs. My shocked cry was laced with pain, and I stared up at him, wide-eyed and panting. His pupils dilated at the sight of my visceral reaction, and I could tell he was quickly learning that doling out punishment could be just as pleasurable for him as receiving it was for me.

  “I’ve been told that I’m supposed to inform you of why I’m doing this to you. Otherwise, how will you know what behavior to correct?”

  I swallowed hard as I realized that I was completely at his mercy now. He was firmly asserting his control over me, his dominance, and he wasn’t going to give me an inch. No one had ever made me feel so utterly defenseless before. And no one had ever aroused me this intensely.

  “Your actions at the bar last night were foolish and rash,” he continued. “You put yourself in a dangerous situation. I won’t allow that kind of behavior.” His hand came down on me again, and my traitorous body responded lustfully despite the panic that suddenly spiked though my chest.

  “No!” I protested, trying to ignore the way my inner muscles contracted. “Clayton, that happened outside the bedroom. You can’t punish me sexually for something like that.”

  He tenderly stroked his palm over my stinging flesh, eliciting both an erotic tingling and a sense of comfort. His expression was gentle, but he still maintained his grip on my hair so I didn’t have the option of looking away. “I can understand if this is too much for you. What’s your safe word?”

  “Red,” I said quietly.

  “Do you want to use it now?”

  I bit my lip, torn between desire and fear of what giving Clayton tha
t kind of control might do to me emotionally. I had promised myself that I would give him nothing more than my body, but this was moving into a grey area. But Clayton had already overcome my impulses to deny him, and my last vestiges of willpower left me as I ceded myself to him.

  “No. I don’t want to use my safe word.” My voice was a defeated whisper, and all of the tension left me as my resistance was shattered. My body and my mind were in Clayton’s hands now; I had entrusted them to him. The sensation was incredibly freeing.

  With my consent, my punishment resumed. The blows were sharp, and each resultant crack that echoed around the room was an audible reinforcement of Clayton’s lesson. He wasn’t gentle with me, but I didn’t want him to be. This wasn’t a sensual spanking; it was a reprimand. I had hated myself for making a fool of myself in front of Clayton by toying with those college boys, and I had been ashamed of the fact that he had witnessed my promiscuous behavior. The pain he gave me now was cleansing, and as I earned his forgiveness through enduring it, I began to forgive myself. All of the years of acting rashly, of running from my problems by indulging in lust, had only resulted in the destruction of my own sense of self-worth. And Clayton wasn’t going to allow me to continue down that path any longer. The fact that he believed I could change, that he demanded I do so, gave me hope that I could be the person who was reflected in his eyes whenever he looked at me.

  The tears that spilled down my cheeks weren’t from the pain, but from an overwhelming flood of relief. When Clayton saw them, he stopped immediately. His fingers untwined from my hair so he could gently wipe away my tears. He was looking at me with concern.

  “Did I hurt you that badly?” He asked, his worry evident in his tone.

  I gave him a small, watery smile. “No. I’m not hurt. Not really. I’m… happy. Thank you.”

  Clayton’s eyes widened in amazement. “I have to admit I wasn’t expecting that,” he said, smiling at me softly. “But I’m glad to hear it.”