Leah Braemel - Personal Protection

The flogger hit for a fourth time. Then a fifth.

Oh, God, she couldn’t hold back. She needed to come. But she didn’t want to get off knowing it was someone else administering her punishment. “Sam?”

“It’s all right, baby. Just let yourself feel it.” He was further away now. Standing beside Spencer?

Another punishing strike that had her barely able to hold back her orgasm.

“Sam? I have to come, please, Sam. I don’t want to do it for anyone but you.”

She cried out when the leather harness holding the dildo in place was removed and again when the dildo itself slid from her body. Oh, God, was this part of her punishment to feel so empty?

The flat of a hand cracked against her already heated cheek, then quickly hit the other. And then she felt warmth against her thighs, and a blunt object, a cock, slid into her pussy in one smooth stroke. Tears ran down her face as she struggled against the straps, struggled against her body’s internal need to clench around the cock no matter whose it was, to milk it dry.

“No. Oh, please, no. I want Sam. Only Sam.”

“It is me, baby,” Sam said from behind her. “Thalia and Spencer left.”

Before he’d finished speaking, conscious thought took flight and her body responded, her head arching back and her body tightening around him, milking him as he pumped into her.

Sam bent over Rosie, holding himself up on shaking arms. He’d been so angry that Thalia had insisted on the game. But he was also grateful. If Rosie had changed her mind, if she’d used her safe word, she’d remember Thalia as the giver of pain, not him.

Beneath him, around him, her muscles continued to spasm and quiver, stroking every inch of his cock. A lightning sensation speared from the base of his spine and through his balls. He reared back and shouted as a second climax rocketed through him.

He tried to hold his weight off her as his legs gave out. Nope, no good. Fumbling, he released her ankles from their restraints, then padded around to the front and similarly freed her wrists. “Come here, baby.”

Slinging one of her arms around his shoulder, he carried her into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. He cradled her on his chest, smoothing his hands over her warm behind.

Bath. That’s what she needed. He should get up and run one for her. In a minute.

The minute turned into an hour before he was ready to take his arms from around her. He rolled off the bed and plodded to the bathroom. While the tub filled with water, he tossed in a cup of Epsom salts. Once the water was to the right height and temperature, he went back to the bedroom and lifted Rosie, who slumped in his arms, utterly content.

Leaving her to soak, he wandered out on the terrace and lit up a cigar. He lifted a hand to Jocelyne’s husband on the balcony across the way. Robert waved back then ducked his head to look through the telescope pointed at Sam’s building, but several floors below. Ah, the couple in 906 were giving Robert a show tonight also.

What the hell was he doing? He’d gotten carried away back there. He’d forgotten to use a condom when he’d replaced the dildo with his cock. He’d forgotten what it felt like to take a woman bare. He’d felt every tremor of her pussy, like a thousand tongues lapping his cock, how the heat increased as she’d come, the tiny rippling aftershocks. She’d wormed her way so deep into his heart that he’d never be able to let her go now. Not after tonight.

The cigar was almost a stub by the time the door to his bedroom opened. Rosie padded out, wrapped up in one of his bathrobes. The danged thing trailed behind her like a queen’s mantle.

“When did Thalia and Spencer leave?”

“After the fifth strike.” Spencer had simply tapped him on the arm with the flogger and presented it to him, then turned around and left. Thalia had smiled at him then silently wheeled out behind Spencer. Quid pro quo for Rosie walking out on him earlier perhaps?

Whatever, he was grateful to have had the chance to be alone with her. And furious that he’d been a spectator rather than a participant.

“Was that planned? For you to switch over like that?” She flipped a strand of hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.

“No. But I’m glad he di-”

Without warning, she’d hooked her leg behind his and pushed him to the ground, splaying her body over him.

Sam chuckled and wrapped his arms about her waist, cinching her up higher so he could nuzzle her neck. “Honey, if you wanted to do it out here, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to ambush me like that. Not to mention I’ve got some perfectly fine furniture over there with pillows that’ll make it a helluva lot more comfortable on my ass. Or your knees.”

“Stay down,” she whispered. “There’s someone across the road with a rifle.” She patted her waist. “Damn it, I left my Berry in the bedroom. We have to get you inside.”

Sam jerked as if he’d been tasered. He flipped her over, shielding her body with his. “You’re tryin’ to shield me from a sniper? Are you fuckin’ insane?”

“Of course I’m trying to protect you. It’s my job, remember?”

The thought of Rosie willingly taking a bullet had him seeing scarlet. “Where is this fucker?”

“Penthouse. Middle balcony. I saw a flash off his scope.”

His muscles relaxed when he realized what she’d seen. He rolled off her, leaning against the concrete planter while he fought the adrenaline rush. “That wasn’t a rifle scope you saw. It was a telescope.”

“What? How can you be sure?”

He leaned his head back, forcing oxygen into his lungs. “That’s Jocelyne’s apartment. Robert’s a voyeur-he spies on his neighbors with a telescope. That’s who you did your little show for earlier. I saw him out there while you were in the tub. He was watching the couple in 906 getting it on-they always leave the drapes open for him.”

“Eeew. You mean there really was someone watching me? That’s sorta creepy.” Rubbing her arms, she scooched over to peer through the slit in the balcony then scooted back out of the way. “Are you sure it’s just a telescope and not a gun?”

He couldn’t do this.

Things were right back to the way things were eight years ago. How had he forgotten someone was out to kill him? He couldn’t make Rosie a target. Couldn’t let her be hurt. Couldn’t lose her the way he’d lost Jill.

But damn it, he couldn’t set her aside either. He needed her more than he needed the air around him. He loved her. And would do anything to keep her safe. Whether she wanted him to protect her or not, dammit. Even if that meant making her as mad as hell to keep her away from him, to keep her safe. And safe meant away from him.

His jaw clenched, Sam pushed himself to a stand and stalked to the bedroom.

“Ay!” Rosie scrambled after him, catching the door before he could slam it shut. “I’m sorry. All right? I didn’t mean to ruin your game. I’ll be good and obey you. Master.”

Sam glared at her. “I will not have someone else die because of me. I’ll not have one hair on your head hurt. Not now. Not ever. Do you understand?”

Damn. He was thinking of Jill. How had she forgotten what he’d lost already? In an effort to distract him, she sank on her knees in front of him and once again assumed a subservient position. She caught the laces of his fly in her teeth and tugged.

“Stop it, Rosie.”

“Princesa, remember?”

“Stop it! It’s not a fucking game, Rosie. This is important, why don’t you see that?” His shout echoed off the walls.

“Sam…”

He retied the laces and folded his arms across his chest. “We need to slow things down between us, Rosie. It’s best if you sleep at the other apartment from here on in.”