Cherise Sinclair - The Dom's Dungeon

Instinctively she stood. She needed to find somewhere to hide—to cry.

“My sub doesn't cry alone,” Alex said softly. “She cries in my arms.” He pulled her onto his lap and against his chest.

She couldn't… But his embrace was unyielding, and she couldn't hold it in. A sob welled up from deep inside. It hurt and tore through her throat like the man's appearance had torn through her dreams. Another sob followed and another. Why, God? I only wanted to have a new life. To be free from the past. But life isn't fair—never, never fair.

She cried until her throat was raw and her eyes swollen. When she finished, she lay limp against Alex's chest, listening to his slow heartbeat as he stroked her hair. He'd never said a word.

After a minute, he handed her a napkin from the side of the tub. She wiped her tears away and blew her nose.

Grasping her chin, he tilted her face one way, then the other, examining her. “Better. Now tell me what happened at the dance.”

She shook her head.

“Something from your past?”

Her mouth tightened over the words that strained to come out.

He sighed, but his eyes never left her face. “MacKensie, unless you tortured small fuzzy animals or children, I can forgive you. Tell me.”

The thought of seeing disgust on his face pierced her insides with ice. To have him look at her like the people in Oak Hollow had—like that man just had—she wouldn't survive that. “I will never, ever tell you,” she said, her voice hoarse. “Don't ask me again.”

He studied her for a long minute. “We'll work on it at a later time.”

“No,” she whispered. Yet when he pulled her back against his chest, she didn't resist at all.

“Poor little sub,” he murmured. “So many worries and so little trust.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, the feeling of his arms around her became more than just comfort. Not because of anything he did, but as the upheaval from her past faded, her body remembered the present. And what joy she'd found here in his embrace. Her hands stroked down his back, releasing tiny bubbles against his skin that tickled her palms. She ran her fingers down his spine, fingered the vertebrae between the long muscles, and returned to the hard-packed muscles covering his scapula and upper arms. When she pulled back, she saw a faint smile on his face.

His hand moved to her breast. When her nipple bunched under the touch of his fingertips, his smile increased.

She sighed as the dawning need tightened like a noose around her, squeezing her into urgency. She wanted to have sex with someone who cared and someone she cared for. She needed to make all those memories of other men go away. Her hands slid to his front, and she squeezed his growing cock until it stood erect.

He chuckled and started to lift her up, and she realized he intended to put her hips on the pool rim at a nice level for his mouth.

“No.” She shook her head and gasped when his hand slid between her legs, finding her wet already. “I want—I need you inside me. Now.” His finger slid over her clit, and she whimpered at the surge in her blood. “Please. Sir?”

He set his other hand against her face. “Do you realize how difficult it is to say no when you call me that and look at me like this?” His hand tangled in her wet hair, holding her for his kiss. His lips expertly teased hers, his tongue as possessive as the finger that slid into her vagina. When her tongue entered his mouth, and he sucked on it lightly, she moaned and pulled back. “Please, Sir?”

She moaned again when he withdrew his finger from her pussy.

“All right, then, little cat.” When she made a move to straddle his legs, he chuckled. “I don't think so. Stand up.” He pushed her to the side of the Jacuzzi that lacked a seat. Grasping her hands, he placed them on the rim. “Bend over.”

Her fingers pressed into the cold, rough concrete. The rain hadn't stopped, and cold drops splattered on her face and back.

Standing behind her, Alex put his arms around her, and his hands closed over her breasts. He played with her, lifting her breasts in his big hands, rubbing her nipples with his thumbs until the peaks turned as hard as the cement under her fingers.

Dammit, she wanted him inside now. She wanted to be engulfed by him, have him drown out her memories so she could pretend no one else had ever touched her. She pushed back and rubbed her bottom against his erection.

He stilled, then bit her neck, his teeth pressing down on the muscle. She remembered when just that had almost sent her over, but not tonight. Tonight too many other things filled her head. That man had touched her. Her mouth had been… She pushed back again, more frantically.

“What you need and what you want aren't the same things,” he murmured in her ear, “but you're going to get both tonight.” His warm breath made her shiver despite the heat of the water.

He entered her in one merciless thrust, lifting her to her toes. Filling her fully, painfully. She cried out, and her hands clenched on the rim, abrading her fingers. Cold rain sluiced over her shoulders and arms, which were out of the steaming water. He thrust into her once again, and she pushed back. Take me. Make me forget.

Suddenly his hands slid lower to touch her intimately, and need sizzled through her, shaking her control, entering her soul. She didn't want to feel anything that deeply, not tonight. She started to straighten.

“Keep your hands on the rim,” he growled. She froze.

Still embedded in her, he pushed her legs apart until they gaped widely and she had to hold the rim for balance. His hips pushed her forward, closer to the wall, and then his hand covered her mound—her bare, hairless mound. The sensation was startling. She wiggled up and down on his cock. “Move,” she whispered.

He ignored her, anchoring her against him with the hand pressing against her pelvis. The other hand touched something on the Jacuzzi's side. When he moved his hand away from her mound, she realized what he'd done. A jet of water hit her directly on her pussy, and the forceful streams of water felt like tiny fingers flickering all over her clit and labia. She jumped and tried to move back.

“Don't move, little cat,” he said, his hips keeping her in place. He secured her further, one hand over her breast, the other right above her mound.

“I don't…” The water demanded a response, and her clit tightened. “I don't want this, Sir.”

“I know, sweetheart. That's why I didn't give you a choice.” With a finger on each side of her clit, he opened her labia, exposing her completely to the throbbing water.

“Uuuuh,” she moaned, unable to move away from the barrage.

And then he started to move inside her, his cock dragging over sensitive tissues, wakening her nerves from inside. Each relentless thrust raised her up on her toes and moved the water up and down her clit like stroking fingers. Inside her, need grew, blossoming along her nerves. Her legs started to shake as her vagina clamped tighter around him. She panted, breathing the cold, moist air that warmed as their movements stirred the water. Tendrils of steam curled around them.

Then his thrusts changed to a forceful rhythm, one that overwhelmed her mind and her emotions, leaving only sensation after sensation. Her clit engorged, growing more and more sensitive, but she couldn't seem to go over. She balanced right on the precipice until every breath came out a whimper.

With a merciless grip, he pushed her closer to the jet, then twisted her hips back and forth in front of the pulsing water. The stream of water hit her clit and then was gone. He turned her back, and water pounded across her for a second. With each twist, he shoved deeper inside her.

Nothing could fight against that. Her clit tightened until it felt as if he'd clamped it between his fingers, and then everything inside her uncoiled violently, shooting pleasure through her in jagged, excruciating waves.