White Collared Part Four: Passion (6 page)

Leaning closer to him, she grazed her lips on his, enough to pick up his flavor. “I don’t want to lose you. I know we both made mistakes. Trust is the foundation of a D/s relationship, and it blew up in our faces like dynamite. But at the other end is forgiveness. Before recently, I didn’t believe in it. If someone hurt me, I’d cut them from my life and never look back. You’re the one who told me to forgive Hannah. Don’t you think you and I deserve it as well?”

He exhaled a shuddering breath and his tongue licked across the seam of his lips. “You deserve a lot of things.”

“And so do you. I messed up. As my Dom, isn’t it your responsibility to correct my behavior? Otherwise, how will I learn?” She bit his lip playfully.

He pushed her back with a hand to her sternum, his penetrating brown eyes glazed. “I told you before, you had every right to walk out on me after you learned about Bethany. You don’t need my forgiveness for that, but if it makes you feel better, I will. But when it comes to your safety, it would be my job as your Dom to correct behaviors that put your life at risk. You’re a masochist, and so I’m not sure a spanking would suffice. I’ll have to get creative. Are you sure you want me to punish you? Do you know what you’re asking?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He ran a finger along her gold collar. “What are your limits?”

Excitement shot through her veins, making her body come alive for the first time in days. “Does that mean you’ll do it?”

He wrenched her toward him with the ring of her collar. “What are your limits?”

It was on the tip of her tongue to list the same items from two weeks ago, but she stopped, realizing she no longer suffered from the same fears. He was right. As a masochist, she not only welcomed physical pain, she craved it. She’d wear his bruises and marks on her flesh as badges of honor. “No blood.”

“Bondage?”

She smiled as she caught sight of the erection straining against his jeans. “That’s acceptable.”

He helped her to her feet. “Katerina, go upstairs to my bedroom and take off all your clothes and then kneel in the center of the room and wait for me.”

Her heart pounded viciously, making her dizzy with elation and nerves. How would he punish her? She had a feeling it wouldn’t entail forced orgasms.

In his room, she stripped off her shirt and folded it, placing it on the edge of the bed where they’d previously made love. Someday soon she hoped to feel his naked body against hers beneath these silky sheets once more. Take his cock in the wet cavern of her mouth and with her tongue, learn each vein, each sensitive spot, and each satin-smooth crevice.

Her pussy throbbed, ripening in anticipation of Jax’s touch. It didn’t matter if the touch came from the palm of his hand or the tail of a whip, his stamp on her brought her to heights she’d previously thought a myth. He’d taught her that the lines between pain and pleasure could blur.

The air in the room chilled her flesh as she slid her pants down her thighs. She shivered, aware of the glaring silence of the room, which amplified her exhalations and the rasp of the fabric as it pooled at her feet. Her nipples tightened into hard points and rubbed almost painfully against the lace of her bra. She closed her eyes and imagined the way he would suck the bud into his mouth and how her pussy would pulse in time with every pull as if they were connected. He’d graze it with his teeth, a tease of what was to come, and when he sensitized it to the strongest degree, when she thought she wouldn’t be able to take any more, he’d bite, pushing her even higher than she thought possible. Just thinking about it had made the slick flesh between her thighs ache from the emptiness.

She pinched her nipple hard and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from crying out. After unclasping her bra and allowing it to drop to the floor, she snaked her hand down her flat stomach to rub over her panties. She was soaked through already. Her clit fluttered, desperate for contact. The mere thought of Jax’s tongue on it drove her to the edge of climax.

She sucked in a breath. She was here for punishment not an orgasm.

Setting her clothes with her shirt, she abandoned her musings about Jax and instead pictured herself sitting in the library and reading one of her law texts. Her arousal immediately waned to a comfortable level.

She padded across the carpet and kneeled, facing the door. He hadn’t indicated what position he preferred. What would signify her surrender to punishment?

Leaning forward, she stretched her arms out in front of her and crossed her hands at the wrist. Then she waited for Jax to make his entrance.

What would he do to her? Flog her? Paddle her? Or would he choose a more creative way to punish her? Knowing Jax, he’d do the exact opposite of what she’d expect.

She’d read about the difference between an erotic punishment and a corrective punishment. She wasn’t supposed to enjoy this at all. But since she’d yet to encounter physical pain that didn’t turn her on, how would that work? Would he do something that would make her cry again?

It didn’t matter. She would take anything he had to give. The only punishment would be losing him.

The muscles in the back of her thighs ached as she held the position. How long would he make her wait? As a child, her parents would give her a “time out” in her room to think about what she’d done wrong. The worst part of it was knowing she’d disappointed her father.

She felt the same when it came to Jaxon, and although she didn’t understand why, she felt the same with Nick. Perhaps it was the submissive in her or perhaps it was that both men were as dominant as the sky was blue. Whatever it was, the awareness of them stayed with her even when they weren’t around. They were the angels on her shoulder, whispering in her ear while the reckless and dangerous devil, a miniature replica of her, sat on the other shoulder, screaming that safety came from complete independence. She’d grown tired of always taking care of herself.

She heard doors opening and closing and Jaxon moving about the house. Still she didn’t break position. He’d given her an order and she’d follow it to the letter, even if it was hours before he came for her.

After a half hour or so, the rhythm of her breathing lulled her into a trancelike state where she no longer felt the cramps of her thighs or the uncomfortable stretch of her spine. Numbness descended and she began to drift.

“Stand up, Katerina.”

Jax’s voice invaded her solitary bubble, shocking her back into consciousness. She hadn’t heard him come into the room. How long had she been kneeling?

Her legs groaned in protest as she pushed back and got to her feet. She wobbled a little but caught herself before she fell.

A slight smirk tugged at Jax’s lips before it disappeared, leaving behind a mask of indifference. “Follow behind me with your head down and your hands clasped behind your back.”

She dropped her gaze to the floor and laced her hands as he’d demanded. Then she stayed a couple steps behind him as he led them to the open playroom.

Although she kept her chin toward her chest, she still managed to take in the ambience of the room. He’d lit dozens of candles and placed them along the far wall, throwing light onto the smooth wood of the St. Andrew’s cross, which gleamed and taunted her. A black leather duffel bag sat beside it.

Today, the playroom looked more like a dungeon. Had he done that on purpose to put her in the right frame of mind?

She laughed inside, careful not to let her amusement show. Of course he’d done it on purpose. Jax didn’t do anything without a reason. That’s why she needed to take it seriously and trust him. After all, that’s what this was about—trust.

Without lifting her head, she caught his appreciative gaze soaking in her naked body. Pride warmed her, a fizzy buoyancy unfurling in her chest.

He raised her chin with a finger and his gaze dropped to her neck. “You didn’t take off the collar.”

She didn’t speak, uncertain whether he wanted a response. If he had, she’d tell him the truth.

It wasn’t hers to take off.

He brushed over the curves of her shoulders and swept across her collarbone, sparking a flame low in her belly. He moved in closer, pressing his covered erection against her. His eyes, always dark, glimmered with golden flecks.

Her fingers itched to remove his shirt and glide over the chiseled muscles of his chest. To dip below the waistband of his pants and experience the flex of his ass as he worked his cock inside of her.

Her breathing grew rapid from arousal and her nipples puckered beneath his gaze. Was this her punishment? Drive her insane with want only to deny her satisfaction? If so, it was working beautifully.

His lips curled into a small grin and his eyebrows rose as if he had a secret. “Go to the cross with your back to me.”

With her pulse hammering hard, she traversed the room to the X-frame and stood spread eagle, waiting for further instruction. The wood was cool on her flushed skin.

Jax came up behind her, his pine scent reaching her nose only seconds before his heat radiated onto her skin like the early morning sun. She closed her eyes and drew on her other senses, glorying in the sound of his rapid breathing. Was it from arousal or was there another reason for it?

He pressed her into the frame with his body and wrapped something around her wrist. Her eyes flew open to see him bind her with a black fabric Velcro restraint. She let out a shuddering breath and relaxed.

Trust.

He fastened her other wrist and then her ankles. Her body trembled and goose bumps ran up and down her arms. Endless possibilities of what he’d do to her circled through her mind.

She couldn’t wait.

Chapter Seven

J
AX HADN’T TOUCHED
her, and yet her pussy quivered as if he had. To her, the mere act of being cuffed to the St. Andrew’s cross symbolized her ultimate surrender. Perhaps it came from her Catholic upbringing and knowing the story of St. Andrew. Or maybe it was because it was just so damned erotic to be bound and at her lover’s mercy on a cross created by his hands.

“What’s your safe word?” Jax asked, his breath warm on her ear.

She inhaled a quick breath, a bit dizzy from her arousal. “Red and gunshot, Jax.”

“I trust you to say it if you need to. That’s why we have them. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Jax.”

“From this point on, I don’t want you to speak unless it’s your safe word. You can, however, feel free to make noises and cry out. Tears are also acceptable.” He dragged his hand down her spine. “I’m going to start with the single-tail.”

All the air rushed from her lungs.

The whip was difficult to master, and Jax never mentioned he could also yield it. Then again, she’d never asked.

He nibbled on her earlobe. “Don’t worry. I trained under the best. You know the scar that bisects my eyebrow? I caught myself with the whip before I completely knew what I was doing. It taught me to never lose my concentration. I’ve also been on the receiving end, so I can assure you, you’ll enjoy yourself immensely. Which is why you’re not allowed to come. And to make it a bit more interesting . . .”

She heard a buzzing noise and then his fingers were parting her labia. He inserted a cold vibrator into her pussy and her walls clenched around it.

At this rate, she’d never be able to stave off an orgasm. She glowered at Jax, hoping she’d convey her thoughts without speech.
Sadist.

He laughed. “You wanted a punishment, so no complaints unless you need your safe word.”

The cavernous cracking sound caused her entire body to jerk and her heart to pound. She’d heard that noise while at Benediction, but it had blended with the thuds, smacks, and moans. In here, there was no mistaking the pop of the whip as it sliced through the air beyond the speed of sound.

“Try to keep your muscles relaxed and breathe,” he said. “I’m going to begin.”

Crack.

Nothing at first. Had he missed?

A fiery sting on her left shoulder blade made her cry out. Before she could process it, another crack echoed through the room, and Jax had added a matching sting on her right shoulder blade. This time, she simply groaned, too overwhelmed to form words. A small spasm rocked her pussy.
Oh God, I’m going to come.
She sucked in a breath and concentrated on the heat spreading across her upper back.

Jax was suddenly beside her, his lips by her cheek. “You’re doing great. Are you ready for more or do you want to safe word?”

Did he
want
her to safe word?

She wouldn’t. Not unless she absolutely needed to.

“No,” she whispered. “Keep going.”

She didn’t have to wait long before he struck again. The pain was nothing like she’d ever experienced. Sharp and searing. Yet it was bearable. No, more than bearable
. Exquisite.

Her heart began to drum; it was so loud it drowned out the pop of the whip. It was almost musical, as if it were the bass, low and steady, setting the rhythm of the song. A rush of champagne flowed through her veins, effervescent and euphoric, leaving her as liquid as the drink. Her skin buzzed along with her pussy, and she floated like a balloon on a clear spring day.

Again and again he struck, careful to avoid her spine and kidneys, working his way down her body to the globes of her ass. She didn’t know when he’d stopped, but his voice broke through her fog, soothing and firm. How long had he been speaking?

He gripped her by the chin and stared into her eyes, smiling. This didn’t feel like a punishment to her.

“You like this, don’t you? I’m going to use the cane on you next. Do you want to safe word?”

She licked her lips and swallowed. “No.” The cane scared her more than the whip, but she refused to safe word out of fear.

“You’re doing great, Katerina.” He moved away and tapped her behind with something cool and smooth. “I bought this specifically for you. When I saw it, I knew it would mark your skin beautifully.”

A dull thud sounded, and she felt the weight of the cane on her right butt cheek. Hmm, it didn’t hurt as bad as the whip, she thought. Jax immediately hit the opposite cheek and increased the speed of her vibrator.