Safeword Interrupted (The Cattail Club Book 1) (3 page)

“Shit.”
She tried to lower her legs.

“Bad girl.” He struck the underside of her breast through her shirt.

Pain jolted through her, before settling in her womb.
Fuck, this was going to be worse than the last time.

* * * *

Keeping a steady rhythm over the next thirty minutes, Deacon flicked the flogger across Bethany’s bound body. The sounds spilling from her luscious lips were intoxicating. Unlike her earlier cries of pain as he dealt out the first stage of her punishment, these had notes of pleasure in them. He foresaw his little submissive having a love-hate relationship with his flogger.

“Please, Sir!” Tears streaked her face – tears of frustration.

“Such pretty little nipples.” He struck one of her now exposed nipples. “I can’t wait to see them clamped.” He let the flogger fall to the side, then leaned over and took the tip into his mouth. Running his teeth along the edges of it, he nipped her, knowing the pain would only increase her desire.

“Sir!” She squirmed, but the restraints continued to hold her tight.

Drawing back, he studied her flushed face and trembling limbs. “Are you ready to come, little one?”


Oh, please…”
She sobbed, her fingers clenching.

“Will you run again?” He drew back, remembering the purpose of this scene. It was to lay the ground rules to his little submissive. She shook her head no. But that wasn’t good enough. “Look at me, Bethany. I need to see those gorgeous green eyes.”

She continued to shake her head – her eyes unfocused.

Grabbing a hold of her nipple, he twisted it. “I said look at me.”

Her eyes flew open and a scream passed her lips, before her gaze locked on him.

“Are you going to run again if you get scared?”

“No, Sir….I’ll come…to you.” She panted.

“That’s right you will.” He drew back, his hand delving between her thighs, testing the creamy wetness. He groaned when he encountered more of it than he expected. Lifting his head, he stared down at her exposed pussy. Juice leaked from her slit, ran down the crack of her ass to end up pooled on the table. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

She howled when he shoved two fingers inside of her. The muscles grasped him hard. He could feel her orgasm approaching. Using his free hand, he inched the wand higher. He pressed harder, the rounded head parting her labia to land directly on her clitoris. “Come for me.”

Her scream should’ve shattered the windows, but it escaped soundless from her throat, as her pussy tried to strangle his fingers. She fought her bonds and he had his hands full – literally - as he fought to keep the wand on her clit and his fingers in her orgasming cunt. “That’s it…come, you little bitch. Soak those fingers.”

She shook her head, her hair whipping back and forth, as nonsense babbled from her lips.

“Fuck…”
His dick throbbed like an angry wound. He needed to fuck her. To ride her pleasure until he came hard enough to satisfy his need to claim her. Jerking his fingers free of her sopping pussy, he tore open the front of his jeans, then shoved down his boxer briefs enough to free his aching sex. He crawled up onto the table, almost desperate in his need to fuck. “Gonna fuck this tight pussy.” He rubbed the head of his cock against her slit, before notching it against her opening.

“Fuck me!” Bethany sobbed. “Please, Sir, oh, god…I’m gonna come again.”

“Like fuck. Wait until I get in you.” He lifted the wand away from her clit before smacking the side of her tit.

“Ohhh…” She moaned.

Then he snapped his hips, sinking deep inside of her with one thrust. “Son of a bitch…it’s like living fire!” He tossed his head back as the muscles of her cunt sucked at him.

“Sir…fuck me.” She was openly crying now.

He shoved the wand between their bodies to land against their joining. The vibrations ripped a groan free of him as her eyes rolled back in her head. Under him, her body convulsed from the brutal pleasure.


Deacon!”

His name ripped free of her lips as she slid over the edge, dragging him over with her. He bellowed as his nuts drew up and seed flew up his shaft to spill in her womb. Wrapped in all-consuming ecstasy, the need for birth control seemed a distant concern. He ground hard against her clit as he rode out his own climax. She gave one final weak cry before slumping in a faint under him. He barely caught his weight on one arm before almost crushing her. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

Staring down at her tear-streaked face, he sighed. Lifting free of her, he made quick work of freeing her from the restraints. Then after wiping her down with a warm cloth, he carried his precious burden to the couch. Sinking into the cushions, he wrapped his arms around her, after pulling the light cover off the back of the couch to cover them.

“You, Bethany Laura Adams, are mine.” He nuzzled his nose against her hair. “Until I say otherwise – no matter how much you try to fight me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Warmth. That's what she was encased in, Bethany thought in a daze. Every part of her was fuzzy and warm – well, except for her ass and the back of her thighs. They were hot and damp from the masculine body they were pressed against. However, nothing smelled quite as good as the scent emanating from the chest under her cheek.

Mmmm
.

She burrowed closer, not quite ready to come back to the real world. She was seriously contemplating dozing off when a rumble filled her ear as Deacon spoke softly.

“Sounds good. We'll pick it up on our way out. Tell the chef thank you.”

The hand rubbing over her back slid
down
to tap her already sore bottom. “No sleeping right now, little subbie.”

She groaned, when his fingers plucked at her sore flesh, and opened her eyes. The living room came into focus. Obviously after she’d passed out from her orgasm, he’d carried her out of the kitchen to the couch. He’d even wrapped the thin blanket around them.
So this must be what aftercare is like. To wake up feeling protected.

“That’s it, come back to me. All is forgiven - and I have a full day of adventures planned for us.” His voice was soft, as if he were coaxing a skittish horse back on the farm.

But she was no horse, she thought. If she wanted to stay curled up on his lap until the cows came home, she would. “But I'm on vacation.” She shifted away from the painful pinch her words brought. She didn't know where he got his technique from but he could do a baker proud.

He nipped at her ear. “I promise I'll make it worth your while.” He gentled his touch. “I had the resort chef pack us a lunch.”

“But...” She tried to sit up, but found herself trapped by his arms. In the late morning sun, his dark hair glimmered while his lips looked bruised. A five o’clock shadow covered his jaw. Evidently he’d given up shaving for the remainder of their vacation. But how the hell could he look so sexy, when she was certain she was a mess? She could only imagine what she looked like. Her hair had to be a tangle, and the light mascara she'd applied after her shower had to have run all over her face.

“No buts. For the duration of this next week, you agreed to be mine.” He tweaked her nose. “And Master wants to go play in the sun with his new subbie.”

Her eyes widened as the possibilities his words wrought ran through her mind. “But I'm not into exhibitionism, Deacon.”

Leaning back, he sighed. “Do I need to remind you that you agreed to let me be in charge? And that I would never do anything to humiliate you?”

She nibbled on her lower lip, immediately chastised by his reminder. Despite everything, Deacon was her best friend. He would never do anything to harm her. Make her ass sting - yes, but true harm - no. “Blame it on the fuzziness, Sir.” She tried to move away. “I'll do better.”

He rubbed his thumb over her lower lip. “Of course you will. I expect nothing less from my little over-achiever.”

She giggled. “That's me. Always wanting to be the best.”

“That you are.” He slowly pushed the blanket off her shoulders. “Now, I want to see how well you can follow instructions. Go to the bedroom. I want you to pick out two swimsuits...”

When she looked at him weird, he chuckled. “I know you. You're a clotheshorse. You probably have no less than six suits with you. Pick your two favorites and lay them out for me. I will pick out the one I want to see you in for our ride to the beach.”

“Yes, Sir.” She moved as if to rise, but stopped when he wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Once you’ve done that, I want you to present yourself in the center of the bed. Do you remember my requirements?” His azure blue eyes studied her intently.

Her heart began to pound faster. “Yes, Sir. On my knees with my legs spread shoulder width apart and my hands palm up on my knees.”

He nodded. “And?”

She caught her breath, but managed to keep her voice steady. “I'm to be naked so you can examine your property.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Correct.” He lifted her to her feet, the blanket around them falling to the floor as he surged off the couch, his pants unfastened. The open zipper framed his dark pubes, and the top half of his dick teased her. Even flaccid, he was thick, and she could see dried smears of cum on his skin.

Something important nagged at the back of her mind, but a sharp rap on her bare ass had her scurrying toward the bedroom. Her poor abused bottom couldn't take any more punishment today.

* * * *

Deacon raked his fingers through his hair as the bedroom door shut behind Bethany. While the task he'd given her was a delightful diversion, it was still a smoke screen for his nerves. Never in all his life as a Dominant had he fucked up like he just had with her. Because, as he'd held her exhausted form against his, he'd realized for the first time in his adult life, he'd forgotten about protection. She'd gotten him so hot by the way she'd taken her punishment that he'd lost his self-control - and had forgotten all about using a rubber.

“Fuck.” He began pacing back and forth between the couch and the doorway to the kitchen. Logically, he knew he should be worried about the fact his best friend might be carrying his baby, but honestly, a less civilized part of him wanted to howl at the moon about marking his sub in such a manner. “She's so going to kick my ass when she realizes I screwed up something as basic as birth control. A sub has to trust her master to protect her - even from his own stupidity.”

He waited five more minutes, wanting her to be hyperaware of him when he finally entered the room. Once he confessed his sins, he had big plans of teasing her as he took her to one of the few public nude beaches in Puerto Rico. His cock hardened at the thought of keeping her on the edge of release until her juices ran down her thighs.

But before that can happen, I need to set the scene.

Moving into the attached bathroom where he'd left the newest instruments of her torture after he’d washed them, a slow smile crossed his face. His poor little Bethany didn't know what she was getting into, when she agreed to play by his rules. Picking up the pair of weighted glass balls from the soap dish, he admired the Ben Wa balls he’d picked out specifically with Bethany in mind. Once he inserted them in her snug little sheath, they’d drive her insane.
Anticipation coursed through his veins at the thought of her muffling her moans against his chest, as he pushed her closer to release with every subtle sway of her hips.

Ah the beauty of the Ben Wa balls. To keep her balancing on the edge with every movement.

A release he was just sadistic enough to not allow, until he was ready to lap up all her creamy essence – in the privacy of their bungalow. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the dominant smirk on his face in the mirror. If only Bethany knew what devilry he had in store for her, she’d run the other way. She was going to have a long day of agonizing need ahead of her – to remind her of exactly who was in charge of her pleasure – or the lack of it.

After flicking off the light, he exited the bathroom and stepped into the bedroom. A sense of satisfaction roared through him. There she was, perfectly positioned on the center of the bed like he’d asked, the late morning sun spilling over her golden shoulders and perfect ass. It also highlighted the tattoo that had been hidden by her shirt earlier.

So that’s what she didn’t want me to see in my office – that sexy ass triskelion.

His dick hardened in a rush at the outward symbol of BDSM. A response he was entirely used to. Put Bethany Adams in the same room with him and he’d get a hard-on every time.

Approaching the bed, he schooled his features. “Very nice, but I don’t see the suits, Bethany.”

She jumped a little at his voice, making him wonder if she’d been so focused on what he’d done earlier that she’d been oblivious to his entry into the room. But to her credit, she kept her gaze averted – which surprised him. It was a common mistake most subs made – considering as children they were taught to look at a person when they spoke. The fact he wouldn’t have to break her of the habit only made him more certain that she’d probably be one of the best subs he’d ever dominated.

“They are on the dresser, Sir.” She wet her lips, but her hands remained relaxed on her thighs. “We need to talk, Sir. About earlier.”

Glancing longingly toward the polished mahogany chest of drawers and the garments on top of it, he sighed. He could refuse her request – avoid the ass chewing he knew he had coming or…face the music.

Might as well get this out of the way.

“Of course we do.” He sank down on the edge of the bed. “I realize you’re on birth control – I saw the pills in the bathroom last night, but that’s no excuse for me to not use a condom. All I can say is that you got me so hot and bothered, all I wanted to do was fuck you. Hell, I think my mother could’ve walked in and I wouldn’t have been able to stop.” He brushed his hand over her cheek. “If it’s any consolation, I can assure you that I’m disease free. The last woman I went bareback with was Amelia.”

Her back stiffened a little at the mention of his former fiancée. Regardless of the many interests the two women shared, it had always amazed him that Bethany had disliked, even despised, the petite brunette he’d brought home his senior year in college. Even now that he and Amelia had gone their separate ways, his former sub was known to cross the street to avoid Bethany. He didn’t know what happened between the women, but had decided to let sleeping dogs lie.

“Mention that witch to me again, Deacon, and this is over – promise or not.” Her gaze remained down, but he could hear the anger in her tone. Hell, he could even understand it. He’d be livid if Bethany brought up one of her past lovers during their time together.

He tilted her chin up and caught her gaze. “Understood. I won’t mention her again. I just wanted you to know that you didn’t have to worry about any diseases, and that I won’t forget again.”

She tilted her head. “Don’t worry, about it, Sir. You’ve always been a fanatic about protection – and promised to never harm me.” Her cheeks flushed. “Besides. I kinda liked it. It’s the first time a guy has…well, come inside me… without a condom.”

Something primitive inside him rose up at her words. The part of him that had awoken earlier during their scene, wanted to beat its chest and collar her right now. She was his – she let him spill inside her – something by her own admission she’d never allowed any other man to do.

Fear tried to creep in. He wasn’t the settling down kind of Dom. He’d always played the field – had given his subs pleasure then walked away when another caught his eye. What the hell was he doing?

He took a deep breath and eased back. It wasn’t until he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets that he began to relax. “Regardless, I’ll be using a condom, Bethany. The pill isn’t always a hundred percent fool-proof, and we both know I’d make a horrible father.”

She drew back as if struck before re-averting her eyes. “Of course, Sir. As a man who doesn’t want kids, protection is a must. Forget I offered.”

He wanted to growl as she shut down before his eyes. Damnit, he was handling this all wrong. Fatherhood just wasn’t for him. It had nothing to do with her – in fact if he were to have kids, he couldn’t have picked a better mother than Bethany. But as he took in her defensive posture and downcast eyes, he knew nothing he said now would make things better. Then his fingers brushed the Ben Wa balls in his pocket. Perhaps actions would speak louder than words.

“On your back with your legs splayed, little one.”

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