Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4)

Afterlife (Knights of the Board Room #4) Page 35

Despite the recent climax, the punishing, excruciating rhythm had her body climbing that steep roller coaster again. She clung to him with legs and arms, burying her face into his neck, the strands of his hair against her forehead.

He"d teased her about the marinara, letting her have some breathing room. But these earth-shattering words were a reminder that there was an invisible leash attached to that collar she still wore, and he would only let her back away a certain amount. It was thrilling and terrifying at once, a duality she was beginning to accept went hand in hand with her first-in-a-lifetime feelings for Jon.

How many times had she told herself that, after tonight, after this point or that point, she"d back away, push him to arms" length? She"d been fooling herself. One didn"t push a Master at all. Not unless one was willing to deal with the consequences.

She wouldn"t survive it. To do that, she"d have to accept the improbable was possible, and that she could trust him. That she could believe the things he said about her, things she couldn"t believe herself.

So, ultimately, it wasn"t about not trusting him. It was about not trusting herself, the courage of her own heart. She"d doubted that part of herself from the first time she"d seen her failure in Cole"s eyes. Now the organ beating so frantically in her chest had so many cracks, there was no way it was strong enough for this. The problem was, she didn"t think Jon was going to give her any other choice.

That too was a thrilling and terrifying possibility.

Chapter Twelve

Jon had enjoyed the company of many submissives, as Rachel had accurately guessed. He"d never had one like her. Though he always cared for the women he bedded, he didn"t have the emotional investment he had with this one. Still, it amazed the man and roused the Master to fever pitch, the way she anticipated his demands as if she knelt obediently in his brain, watching every flicker of activity beneath her silky lashes.

He"d depleted her emotionally and expected that to affect her physical endurance.

As such, he anticipated outlasting her tonight, driving her over the edge of exhaustion and beyond, and he did. He"d intended to do so. As he"d said, he wasn"t a heavy-handed Dom, but he knew when it was needed. She needed his ruthless demands, because they fed a soul too long starved of the chance to serve a Master.

Every time he took her body, or put her on her knees to suck him off again, or placed her back in Child"s pose to eat her pussy to climax, she gave him every ounce of energy she had. Her voice became hoarse from screaming, and her legs trembled if she tried to stand, such that he had to help her to the bathroom when it was needed. She didn"t want him to go in with her, and he let her have that, understanding a woman"s vanity, but he was at the door to take her back to the bed. Seeing how much she wanted to give him, beyond the last reservoir of strength she possessed, made his heart fill with feelings he knew exactly what to call, feelings she was too afraid yet to hear.

He"d seen the look in her eyes when he"d first put on the condom, and he"d read the emotions clearly enough that the Dominant in him had wanted to toss aside the irrelevant thing and take her the way he should, nothing between them. But the feelings that kept her silent, still thinking this would end, had stopped him. Just as she was afraid of binding him to her unwillingly, he wouldn"t ever let her believe that a life they created was what made this permanent. There would be time for all that, once he had her heart nestled trustingly in his hand.

The last time, when he slid inside her—rough enough to make her moan with a slave"s deep desire to feel the pain with the pleasure, gently enough not to abuse sore tissues too much—she managed to wrap her arms and legs around him, but she was clinging like a leaf not sure of its grip. He"d depleted her to the point she thought she wasn"t capable of another orgasm, and he suspected she was right—at least in this position. He gave her his once more though, because he knew she needed that, needed to know she"d served her Master well.

Then he showed her that serving her Master well also meant giving him her pleasure when he demanded it. Once again gagging her with the cock plug he"d brought, he slid down her body and spent long, leisurely minutes arousing her with his mouth. Thanks to Lucas" tutelage in how to re-awaken a woman who"d been stimulated repeatedly, he was able to bring her back to a short but intense climax that had a small amount of her cream spurting on his tongue one last time. It drove him crazy seeing the way she was sucking on that gag frenetically at the end, her hungry eyes wanting his cock. But he wanted to give her tenderness now. She"d earned it.

So instead, he removed the gag and rolled her over onto her stomach to give her a thorough Tantric massage. He started at her feet, pressing his thumbs into the soles, working his way up her legs. He took his time on her shoulders, an even-handed, rolling and caressing of the muscles. The chakra clearing was trickier, because as he passed his hands six inches over her body, he had to flick his wrists repeatedly to get rid of the more destructive energies. It was like sloughing a snake"s skin even as he saw a new one forming. He put aside his ego, knowing years of pain and denial weren"t going to be obliterated in one night. He"d have to be satisfied that he"d stirred those chakra energies up quite a bit tonight, knocked a lot of things loose.

He"d been telling her the truth. However long it took, he was here. She wasn"t going to shake him or shut him out.

When he was done and brought her food and drink, he had to lift her to a seated position. She blinked blearily at him. He"d brought some eggplant and bread, the wine for him and water for her. She"d put a pitcher of ice water and a glass on the table if he wanted it with his food. She"d thought of things like that, and he knew anticipating his needs, both domestic and sexual, were an integral part of her nature. He wondered and cursed at the ex-husband, a man he didn"t know but who had so obviously not appreciated the gift she was. Worse—instead of appreciating it, he"d abused it.

Setting those negative thoughts aside, he lifted her, moved them to a roomy easy chair in her bedroom. Adjusting her in his lap, both of them naked, skin to skin, he shared a plate of eggplant parmesan and a glass of water with her, occasionally sipping at the wineglass he left on the floor to his left. True to what he"d promised, he didn"t let her touch a fork or glass with her fingers. He fed her himself and satisfied her thirst by holding the glass to her lips and watching the movement of her graceful throat as she swallowed.

When at last she slept, he held her close. There was a quivering undercurrent to her repose, one that made her press herself to him, slide her arms around his shoulders, hold on tight. In the unconscious state of her dreams she sought the comfort of male companionship, the Master she"d lacked for far too long.

He kept his arms banded around her, rocked her, all without waking her, soothing her in those dreams. He was here, she wasn"t alone.

His gaze moved over the room, lingered on the closet where the photo album was hidden. Her life with her husband had made her brittle, fragile, and the death of her son was the tragedy that shattered her completely, turned her into this shell. But Jon had known she was still there, burrowed deep in its spiraling tunnels. The truth had been in between the lines of what she"d told him at his office.

If her husband had simply been a vanilla guy who didn"t understand the D/s compulsions of his wife but who truly, deeply loved her nevertheless, they could have figured something out. As Jon had recognized, she wasn"t the kind of submissive who would have left her husband because he wasn"t a Dom. All she truly needed was to be loved. If he could have accepted what she was, and how that could manifest itself in a vanilla relationship, they would have had a chance. Instead, Rachel Madison was beaten down and plain terrified of trusting another man with her heart.

All of which might suggest he should move slow, take the relationship on a lazy ride before he pushed her where he intended to take her. However, his intuition told him differently. While he didn"t always abandon common sense in the face of eerie coincidence, he couldn"t deny the similarities. The two married and one almost-married K&A men had all known their chosen women for a certain number of months beforehand, as he had with Rachel. But because of their unique circumstances, once each man set his sights on her and fired the first shot, so to speak, he"d had to close the deal within an extremely short time frame. Savannah, in the course of one night. Cassie, twenty-four hours. For Dana, it had been three days.

While his and Rachel"s circumstances didn"t define the timeline quite so precisely, he knew Rachel wasn"t at a point she could endure the usual seesaw of a relationship"s development. And if he was being honest, maybe that was why the urgency had as much to do with his feelings as hers. He wouldn"t tolerate the stress that could cause her, the doubt and fears, based on her past history. Jon knew what he wanted, and he was willing to use the “shock and awe” tactics Peter had referenced to help her believe it. He wanted her to make that leap toward him, away from what had been and into what he could offer her now. What he would offer her. So instead of hiding from the truth, he"d convince her she could take shaky steps down that road, her hand firmly in his every step of the way.

He already had a plan in mind, but it would take some coordination. Luckily, he knew where he could find help. Sliding out of bed near dawn"s light, he tucked the covers around her exhausted body and went out onto her balcony. Opening his phone, Jon pressed Peter"s number. The obsessive bastard was the only one he knew for certain would be up and doing his morning workout by sunrise. At one time, Lucas would have been up and biking ten miles before work, a mild workout for him, but since Cass was legal guardian of her younger siblings, his mornings were usually a bit more chaotic these days.

“Yeah.” Peter"s voice was pitched low, and Jon"s brow rose.

“What? Dana isn"t doing a triathlon with you before breakfast?”

“She had an exhausting evening.”

Despite his other concerns, Jon had to smile at the tone of a sated predator in Peter"s voice. “Is your fiancée acting out again?”