by Roni Loren
She believed him. Every damn word. This strong, proud man couldn’t break free from those demons that chased us all—guilt, regret, grief. His loyalty to the woman he loved was admirable but it was also killing him. Maggie rubbed her lips together, an idea slipping into her mind like a serpent and whispering dangerous things to her.
Theo shifted beneath her hand. “I need to go, Maggie. I can’t—”
She squeezed his neck hard and pushed him back down into the chair. “Tell me your safe word, Theodore.”
He stilled. “Maggie …”
“Tell it to me,” she said, trying to trust her instincts but her heart thumping hard against her ribs.
“Oregon.”
“That will always work with me, you understand?”
He was quiet for a long moment, and she thought he’d call the word right then and walk out, but then she heard a tense “Yes, mistress.”
She closed her eyes, gathering her nerve. Sometimes this role came naturally to her, like walking or breathing, but right now she felt like she was back on the ice outside with no tread on her shoes. She was about to enter slippery territory and had no idea if they’d be able to keep on their feet. But something inside her was telling her to take the risk, to let her gut guide her. She took one more breath and then bent down, putting her lips close to Theo’s ear. “Listen, sub. You have spent almost a year teasing me—coming into my sessions, looking smug and sexy and so damn handsome I could barely stand it. You strip for me but not all the way. You let me beat you but not really touch you. You’ve submitted to me but with so much fine print that you managed to keep all the control.”
“Mistress—”
“Do you know how many times you left me pent up and on my own to take care of my needs? A vibrator can only satisfy so much, Theo.”
Theo let out a shuddering breath and gripped the underside of his chair. Maggie let her eyes travel downward where the outline of his burgeoning erection was visible. She smiled, the predator in her relishing the small victory.
“So I think it’s only fair that you pay me back for all my trouble.” She stepped around the front of his chair and tapped beneath his chin to make him look up. His dark blue eyes met hers—apprehension there, but also something else, something much more telling. Need. “Your hard limits and fine print are done, sub. We’re in my house. My rules.”
His gaze lit with panic, and he moved to stand. “Maggie, I can’t—”
But Maggie had learned a few tricks in her time, and she pounced quick enough to catch him off guard. Her hand cupped his crotch and gripped. “You’re not going anywhere, sub.”
A choked sound escaped him when she squeezed his tender flesh in her palm. He was taller than her by at least six inches, and broader. He could toss her to her ass without blinking. But he didn’t move. Just held her gaze with those fathomless eyes. “What are you doing, mistress?”
She pushed up on her toes, bringing her mouth within centimeters of his and whispered, “Taking you hostage.”
Then she kissed him.
Breaking her rule and his.
FIVE
Maggie putting her mouth to his was like a thunderclap going off in his head—loud, shattering, and powerful enough to steal every ounce of sane thought in his head.
I’m taking you hostage.
She still cupped his testicles in a firm grip, the threat of real pain only driving up his arousal, but the soft, sweet touch of her lips was what almost killed him. He’d imagined kissing her before, had berated himself for the desire, but God, he hadn’t come close to getting it right. This—this was the kind of kiss that erotic poems were written about. Her lips teased and coaxed, almost daring him to push her away, and then she eased his lips open with her tongue and took it deeper. In control. Commanding. But edged with such feminine sensuality that he wanted to moan into her mouth and beg for it to never stop.
Theo’s brain was trying to kick in, trying to lay logic atop the situation, but his libido was too loud to hear any of it. Everything had gone hot and needy at the feel of her hands and mouth on him. Maggie. Maggie. Maggie. That’s all he heard in his head. He wanted her more in this moment than he’d ever wanted any woman in his life. This sexy dominant woman. This beautiful, quirky artist. This strong girl who’d kicked an abusive boyfriend to the curb and made her own way. He wanted to feel her body beneath his hands, to be inside her, to bring her pleasure, to hear how she sounded when she came. That wanting alone was a guilty kick in the gut. But he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. It was all too good, too in the moment.
She moved her hand up, sliding over his fly and finding the button of his pants. The feel of her fingers unhooking the button sent a frisson of panic in him. What was he doing? He couldn’t do this.
Maggie had stopped taking clients because she wanted something more meaningful. He wasn’t the guy who could offer that. He was fucked up. The fact that he was still struggling when a beautiful woman wanted to take him to bed proved that. He wasn’t a guy who could take her on dates and be carefree and have a good time. She deserved better than what he could offer.
He put his hand on her wrist before she could unzip his fly and pulled away from the kiss. “Mistress, I can’t do this. I can’t be what you want me to be.”
She lifted her face, meeting his gaze and holding it. Those laughing green eyes weren’t laughing anymore. They were hard and serious. Unbearably sexy. “I don’t want you to be anything but my fuck toy tonight, sub. Think you can manage not to screw that up?”
His lips parted. He’d seen Maggie in mistress mode many times, but this was a new level, and his desire stood up and took notice. She wasn’t going to make this tender or sweet. She wasn’t going to pretend this was a date. And she wasn’t going to throw pity his way even knowing his past now.
But before he could respond, she reached out and yanked his zipper down then tugged his jeans and boxers down in one swift motion, leaving him exposed to the glare of the overhead lights and the darkness outside. His instinct was to grab for his clothes, but he forced his hands to his sides, his submissive training kicking in. His erection stood proud, belying all the protests he’d given.
Maggie’s gaze traveled down his body, lingering on his cock. She eased her hand around it and gave it a stroke that nearly sent him to his knees. She nodded. “So this is what you’ve been hiding from me, huh? This will do just fine. Turn around.”
He did, almost on autopilot.
The telltale sound of a belt being unbuckled sounded behind him, and he tensed.
“Bend over and brace your hands on the back of the chair, sub.”
Theo closed his eyes. He could fight many things. He’d resisted a lot these last few years. But his submissive side was potent and starved and having Maggie behind him with a belt sounded like a gift from the gods delivered personally to him. He’d wanted so badly to get lost in the pain tonight. Maybe that’s what she was going to give him after all. Maybe she would obliterate all the other stuff for a few minutes. He couldn’t bring himself to walk away from that.
He put his hands on the chair.
But instead of feeling the welcome lash of leather against his skin, he felt Maggie’s hands on his arms. She pulled his wrists behind his back and looped the belt around them, cinching it tight.
“Wh-what are you doing, mistress?”
“My bedroom is down the hall on the left. I want you in it.” She yanked his pants and underwear back up to his hips, grabbed one of his arms and tugged him with her roughly, not looking at him.
He followed, taking in her profile as they went. Her hair was loose and wild, her lips wet from their kiss, and her jaw set. She looked fierce and beautiful and determined. In that moment, he wished he were the kind of guy who could be what she needed. One who could make that light come on in her eyes, who could make her laugh, give her pleasure, be her safe haven after a long day. A guy who wouldn’t need to be beat to a pulp anytime old memories chased him. A guy who could be touch
ed without thinking of someone else.
She led him into a large room in the back corner of the house. The hardwoods were warm and obviously original, the bed layered with colorful quilts, and the ceilings high. Books were stacked haphazardly on her night table and a small vibrator sat atop them.
A low kick of desire hit him at the sight. She’d said he’d left her frustrated all those times, had said she’d had to take care of things after their sessions. The thought of Maggie getting herself off and imagining him while she did it was almost too much to hold in his mind all at once. The man in him relished the fact that the sexual attraction hadn’t been one-sided, that he’d stood out among her other clients. But the submissive part of him felt like a failure.
His goal was supposed to be his domme’s pleasure and satisfaction. Thinking back over their times together, he’d been nothing but selfish. Yes, limits had been in place, so she hadn’t expected him to reciprocate. But he’d assumed then that she was simply doing it as a job, looking at him as a client. He hadn’t let himself consider that she was getting turned on as well, that beneath those sexy outfits had been a woman aching for more than he’d given her.
Fuck. She’d given him so much, and he’d left her with nothing. Even tonight, she’d somehow sensed that he needed to be forced into this, that giving him the choice was never going to work. She got him. Had understood him at some unspoken level from the very beginning.
Suddenly, he wasn’t so worried about what she may do to him. She’d said she wanted to use him tonight. And goddamn, he wanted to let her. Fuck all that bullshit that kept him tied up in knots. Fuck the panic. Fuck the guilt. That was his crap to deal with. He wouldn’t let it get in the way of giving Maggie every ounce of pleasure he was capable of tonight.
Tomorrow the ice would thaw. They’d go their separate ways. But tonight, he was going to worship. He would not be the stoic doctor he was out in the world, he would not be the guy afraid to let anyone too close, he would be Maggie’s—whatever she wanted.
“Mistress?”
Maggie brought them to a halt at the foot of her bed and looked at him. “Yes?”
“You won’t need the restraints tonight—unless it pleases you for me to wear them. I’m here willingly. I’m not going to leave unless you tell me to. I want …” The words got caught again.
Her eyebrows lifted slightly. “You want what, Theo?”
He inhaled a deep breath, forcing the truth out. “I want you. I want to please you. Serve you. Whatever that involves, I’m willing.”
Her expression softened for a moment, and she reached out to stroke his face. “Thank you. I don’t take that gift lightly.”
He lowered his head, showing her his acquiescence, a sense of calm coming over him for the first time tonight. There was safety in this space. He was moving into uncharted waters, but the act of submission quieted a lot of the demons for him. If he could let himself fully go there, maybe they could both escape the outside world tonight.
Maggie undid the belt, releasing his arms, and then pulled his shirt over his head. She tossed it to the floor then stepped back and gave him a once-over. His jeans hung low and open on his hips, and his cock flexed at the attention of her gaze. “You are ridiculously beautiful, Theodore. I want to paint you just like this. Bare-chested and hard and waiting for my command. I’d never have to look at another dirty picture again. I could get off on this one view every time.”
“I can stand here as long as you’d like, mistress.”
She smiled. “I bet you would, wouldn’t you? It’d be pretty challenging to keep that erection for as long as it’d take me to sketch. I guess I’d have to be creative with inspiration.”
His lips hitched up. “It would be very meta for a nude to be sketched while the artist herself was nude.”
She laughed. “Indeed. Next time.”
He held back the frown that threatened. There would be no next time. He couldn’t let there be. But he wasn’t going to ruin that smile on her face with that reality.
She stepped closer again and curled her fingers around his erection. Her hand was like silk against him, and he let out a loud exhale, trying to keep his composure. She pressed a kiss beneath his ear. “How long has it been since you’ve come, sub?”
“About a week, mistress.” Though with her stroking him like that, it felt like he hadn’t come in oh—the last thirty-seven years of his life.
“How long since you’ve come with someone else?”
He swallowed hard. “About three years.”
Her hand stilled for a moment, but then she seemed to catch her reaction and moved her fingers again. “That’s a long time, Theo.”
“It’s easier that way.”
She let her fingernails trace up along the line of hair at his navel all the way to the patch on his chest, sending shivers over his skin. “I’m not about the easy way.”
She bent and tapped his leg, indicating that she wanted him to lift his feet. He did, one at a time, so she could take his jeans and underwear off, leaving him completely bare while she remained fully dressed.
She stalked around him, dragging her fingertips over his shoulder as she went. When she stopped behind him, she let the pad of her finger gently trace over the long scar that ran from his left shoulder to his rib cage. He shuddered and his hands curled into his palms.
“How did you get this?” she asked quietly.
He closed his eyes. That question had been one of his limits in his sessions. Don’t ask about the scar. Maggie was proving the point that nothing was out of bounds for her tonight. He could safe word but all this would stop if he did that. He swallowed hard. “I got it in the car accident that killed my wife.”
Maggie inhaled audibly behind them then pressed the flat of her hand along the scar. He braced for the sympathy, the empty words that any normal person would give him. But instead she moved her hand aside and put her lips to the scar, leaving a line of kisses along the length of it.
The injury didn’t hurt anymore, but the feel of her gentle mouth soothing it knifed through him. He could handle her brutality, but he wasn’t sure he could handle her tenderness. His hands trembled at his sides.
She slid her palms to his biceps, giving them a hard squeeze and digging her nails into him. The tiny points of pain dragged him back into the moment. He focused on the feel of it, the physical response, the grounded feeling of her holding him in place. He released a breath.
Her grip eased. “I’m so glad the accident didn’t take you, too, Theo.”
He sniffed. Fate had so gotten it wrong when it’d taken Lori instead of him. “Yeah, the world was so lucky on that one. Everyone needs another asshole to deal with.”
Maggie pinched him hard on his side, sending fire to the spot. “I don’t need the sarcasm, sub.” She stepped in front of him, green eyes fierce, and put a finger to his chest. “The bastard routine doesn’t work with me, so you can drop it. Insulting yourself insults me. You think I would welcome a jerk into my bed? You’re a good man, Theodore Montgomery.”
“Maggie, please, I don’t—”
“You save lives.”
“It’s my job.”
She stepped closer, her gaze holding his and her palm splaying against his chest. “And you saved me.”
“What?” he looked down at her, confused.
“If you hadn’t come along, I’d still be spending my nights taking clients, keeping everybody at a safe, professional distance. I thought I’d gotten past my shit with the old boyfriend, but I kept safe by not letting anyone really be with me. Until you came in and made me want things I thought I’d never want again—a real connection, a man’s touch, a guy who would make me nervous and excited in the best way possible.”
The words spilled over him, stunning him. “Maggie …”
She pressed her finger over his lips. “Shh. I’m not telling you this to put pressure on you. I’m not saying you have to be that guy. Tonight can just be tonight. But I’m not going to stand
here and let you act like it doesn’t matter that you are who you are and that you’re in this world. You matter to the patients you help, and you matter to me.”
Without bidding them to do so, his hands went to her head to clasp it and pull her against his chest. It was against the rules to touch her without permission, but she didn’t stop him. Instead she settled easily against him, and he put his lips to the crown of her head, holding her tight, inhaling the wintery scent of her hair, and wishing once again that he could be a man worthy of her. “Thank you, mistress.”
Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and then she grabbed his wrists and tugged his hands away from her. When she stepped back, the cool mistress expression was back in place. “Clasp your hands behind your neck and keep them there.”
He did as he was told. His arousal had flagged when she’d touched his scar, but now the way she was looking at him was stirring interest anew.
“Three years is definitely too long. If I let you in my bed tonight, I want you to last.”
He smirked. “I assure you my control is just fine, mistress.”
Hell, he’d managed to keep it together for their long sessions all this time.
But she shook her head slowly and then she was moving closer. She stopped in front of him, lifted an eyebrow, and then lowered herself to her knees. “I think I need an insurance plan.”
“Oh, fuck.” He hadn’t planned for the words to come out, but the shock of seeing Maggie kneeling in front of him, preparing to put her mouth on him sent fireworks going off in his head. So much of him wanted what she was offering. The thought of feeling her soft, lush mouth around him. God. But the last time he’d let a woman do this, he’d had a flashback to a night with Lori in the middle, and had lost his erection. It’d fucked with his head and ruined the night.
“Mistress, I—I promise I can last. And I want to please you. I don’t need you to—”
She rose from her knees with swift grace and grabbed his chin. “What will please me is tasting my sub and not having him complain about it. Get on the bed.”