BeyondAddiction (21 page)

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Authors: Desiree Holt

Slapping her inner thighs to keep them separated, he smacked
the crop forcefully against each one.

“You don’t close your legs without permission. Ever. I think
a longer session here will imprint it on your mind.”

He had only planned to give her ten very hard strokes,
enough to let her know she deserved her punishment. But now he’d push it to
twenty, as much for himself as for her. More if she misbehaved again. Her skin
would be a bright red when he finished.

He used increasing force with each one. Buttocks, thighs,
calves. The flaming color spread from the definitive stripes until her skin was
a glowing ruby from her waist to the backs of her knees. With each blow, her
cries grew louder and she clutched the drapes more tightly. He knew it would
have been easier for her if he had restrained her. She’d have more balance,
more support. But he wanted this to be as difficult as possible. Wanted her to
have to hold herself in place.

By the time he finished, she was swaying, unsteady on her
feet. Her body heaved with the intensity of her sobs and her breath rasped. He
probed her cunt and found her even slicker than before. When he slid his
fingers inside her, the muscles clamped down in an automatic response. Just to
push her a little further, he thrust the handle of the crop into her hungry
channel and twisted it around, at the same time using his other hand to
manipulate her clit.

The tension in her body and the cries drifting from her
mouth gave him great satisfaction. It wouldn’t take much to push her over the
edge into orgasm. But not today. No sexual release for her today—nor for him at
the moment. He was as hard as a spike, his cock pulsing with need. Natalie
would get a good working over when he got home.

No, this was all this slave would get today. He was ready to
let her leave. To go back to that jackass who’d taken what was his and tell him
they were through. That she was going back to Brian.

When he released the blindfold it was soaked with her tears.
Her cheeks were wet as well, and he brushed the moisture with the ends of the
silk. When he turned her to face him, she had a stunned look in her eyes, as if
still trying to process what had happened.

He had considered having her suck him off, or perhaps even
fucking her in the ass after restraining her with an intricate rope pattern.
But this was enough for now. He’d driven home his point.

“Only I can give you the sort of pain you crave,” he told
her. “Only I can take you to intense sexual release.
Everything
you are
is because of me. And that’s the way it will stay. Show me that you
understand.”

She nodded, although he sensed a slight reluctance.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes, Master.” She wet her lips. “If it pleases you.”

“It does
not
please me at the moment, Slave.” It was
the first time he’d used the word today but now he felt it appropriate to
remind her who she was. He took her cell phone and programmed a number into it.
“When you get back to that place you’ve been staying,” he refused to call it
her home, “I’m positive your reception will be less than welcoming. You will
leave there and come to me. Call me at this number after you leave.”

She nodded, again with that slight hint of hesitancy.

Goddamn it. He’d get rid of that in a hurry.

“Now you may dress and leave.”

He saw she was shaking as she pulled on her clothes, but it
was a different type of trembling than earlier. This was a reaction to both the
pain and the entire shock of the afternoon. He wanted to believe that a good
portion of it was also the sexual need he’d created with the scene but he couldn’t
be sure. Something was different.

Not for long, he told himself. Not for damn long.

She said nothing as they rode down in the elevator. He was
sure the small dose of drugs in her wine had worn off by now, replaced by the
stimulation of her punishment.

The drug had been his failsafe. Just in case. While Brian
had been confident he could lure Fallon to the suite with the strength of his
will alone, he’d also figured…better safe than sorry. She’d run away from him
once. He refused to allow it again. He’d brought his own wine to the
restaurant, and though it wasn’t a BYOB establishment, the maître d’ had
tripped over himself to accommodate Brian’s request to have the waiter serve
it.

In the end, her slight hesitance at the elevator made him
glad he’d had such foresight. No he wished he could be a fly on the wall when
Fallon walked into that house she shared with jerkhead Jamieson. The man would
take one look at her body, see the marks of the discipline and the absence of
the nipples rings, and kick her out on her ass.

Then she would be
his
. His to do with as he wished,
until he’d thoroughly destroyed her and tossed her on the trash heap.

No one
fucked with Brian Willoughby.

Once they reached the ground floor, he guided her to the
parking garage, making sure she got into her car and was able to drive. If she
killed herself on the way home, all his work would be for nothing. As he
watched her drive away, the anticipation of tomorrow rose in him like a tidal
wave.

They’d learn. Both Fallon and Jamieson. Brian Willoughby
never lost.

* * * * *

Fallon managed to make it out of the downtown area but just
before the entrance to the interstate, she pulled off into a small gravel area
and put the car in park. She couldn’t stop shaking. Trembling. She felt sick to
her stomach. Her ass burned like fire and she felt as if someone had blown up
her brain.

She pulled down the sun visor to check herself in the mirror
and was shocked at the image looking back at her. Her face was flushed, her
eyes glazed. But beneath the heat her skin had an unhealthy pallor.

Who is this person looking back at me?

She shuddered, not just from her appearance but from the
turmoil of emotions roiling inside her. Her rational mind wondered how she had
let herself do this. What about her good intentions? Her determination? Her
insistence to Claire that she had full control of her life now? She was so sure
she had. That lunch was supposed to be her chance to end things with Brian once
and for all. Get him out of her system.

How had she let this happen?

As lunch progressed, she’d felt her ability to make rational
decisions slipping away. By the time he got her up to the suite, she was back
in the fogged state she’d lived in at his house. His voice in her ear promised
every kind of pleasure, knowing just how to subjugate her.

Damn!

But even through the kaleidoscope of sensations bombarding
her, she had been acutely aware this was no longer just the lure of intense
sexual pleasure. Or pushing the envelope of pain to see if she could endure
more, much more, to take her to a new level of erotic sensation. This was a
sick craving for the extreme. She felt herself tied to Brian by some invisible
tether. He was in her mind, and even as she recognized it, she didn’t know what
to do about it.

Except go back to him—and hope she could somehow survive.
Could finally find the strength to walk away for good, this time on her own.

She thought about trying to repair her makeup but that
wouldn’t do anything about the glitter in her eyes. And what was she going to
do about the markings on her ass and her thighs? And the missing nipple rings?
Cord would be furious, and rightly so.

Oh god! Cord!

How in the
hell
could she do this? She’d tried so
hard to keep his face in her mind, to hold on to his image, but something had
wiped it away each time.

Going home in this condition…Cord would be angry and hurt
and wouldn’t understand at all. He would throw her out and be completely
justified. And maybe that was what she needed. Maybe she’d been right when
she’d told Claire she needed to return to Brian one last time. Drive this
craving out of my system. Get past this and pray Cord would still be waiting
for her.

Sick. That’s what I am. Sick.

There was a half-full bottle of water in the cup holder. It
would be warm but she didn’t care. She uncapped it and swallowed the entire
contents, hoping it would wash away whatever twisted sickness had her in its
grip. But when she’d let the last drop trickle down her throat, she didn’t feel
one damn bit better. Her skin was on fire and her heart ached.

The worst part of it was, she knew exactly where she’d be
headed the next day. Maybe even tonight. She had to find a way to sever this
connection with Brian and there was probably only one way to do that.

What was that old saying?

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger?

She wondered which end of the equation she’d be on.

Finally she pulled on to the interstate.

All the way back to the ranch, she tried to think about what
she’d say. She could throw herself on Cord’s mercy and beg him to keep her from
leaving. Tell him how much she loved him. That was certainly no lie. But he’d
look in her eyes and see the terrible sickness there. How could he possibly
still want her after that? After what she’d done today?

If she were really lucky, maybe he’d be gone, out on the
ranch somewhere or in town. She could leave him a note and get out before she
had to face him.

But luck wasn’t with her. When she pulled into the garage
she saw both his truck and his car parked in their spaces. She sat quietly for
a ten count, trying to organize her brain. Think about what to say to him.

Once inside the house, she heard him moving about in the
bedroom and walked slowly up the stairs. He stood next to the dresser, clad
only in jeans and a day’s growth of stubble. He grinned when she entered the
room but that faded quickly when he looked at her face.

“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong, sugar?” Then his face
hardened. “Did something happen with Willoughby?” He clenched his hands at his
sides. “Did you see him?”

Fallon couldn’t find the words to explain. How could she
when she couldn’t even understand it herself?

Instead she dropped her purse on the bed and slowly removed her
clothes, her eyes never leaving his. When he saw her nipples without the rings
in them, he started to say something but held himself back with obvious effort.

It wasn’t until she was completely naked and turned to show
him her buttocks and thighs that he exploded.

“Goddamn it, Fallon!
What the fuck
?”

She turned back, lifted her hands in a helpless gesture.
“I’m so sorry, Cord.”


Sorry
? You think sorry will do it?” He spat the
words at her. Shock was too mild to describe the look on his face. “If I punished
you until your entire body was bloody it wouldn’t do it!” He moved closer.
“You’re
mine
. You’re with
me
. We’re building a life together.
We—”

He broke off and swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat
working. “You betrayed me. You betrayed
us
.”

“I know.” Tears formed in her eyes and she blinked them
back.

“Did you like it when he flogged you?” Each word was like a
knife cutting into her. “Did it give you pleasure? Did he fuck you afterward? I
know he gets off on degradation. Is that what does it for you?”

His anger was palpable, a living thing.

“Cord—”

“We had something special.” His voice was low but no less
harsh. “At least I thought we did. Now you come into
our
bedroom with
his
mark on you? With the nipple rings, which were a promise between
us
, left
in
his
hands? What is it about him that makes you destroy everything
good in your life? Tell me, Fallon, because I damn sure don’t understand.”

She was shaking, nauseous and sweaty but she made herself
stand and face him. She owed him that. “If I had the answer I wouldn’t be here
like this!” she cried, hating herself for what she was doing. “I don’t know
what to say. It’s like I’m bound to him by an invisible thread I can’t seem to
cut.”

He stood there for endless seconds watching her. It was
obvious he was fighting a battle raging inside him. Cord Jamieson was
everything she wanted in a man—a strong Dom, a powerful lover and a caring
partner. The man who’d led her back to the true meaning of the lifestyle she
knew she was made for.

She wanted to cry at her incredible stupidity.

“You have to make a choice,” he said at last. “I can’t live
with him hanging over our heads. Always wondering if you’ve seen him. Spent
time with him. Letting him control our lives that way.” He drew in a long
breath. “I love you, girl, but I won’t share you. I can’t, especially with
someone like him. So make your choice.”

She’d known it would come to this. She’d said as much to
Claire.

Fallon began putting her clothes back on. She lowered her
gaze, unable to look at Cord any longer. Shame washed over her and a terrible
pain gripped her heart. But she knew if she didn’t do this, at least try to get
past this once and for all, Brian Willoughby would be a specter that haunted
her for the rest of her life, and possibly destroyed her.

Not that she wasn’t taking that chance going back to him…

When she was ready, she picked up her purse and her keys and
made herself look at Cord. She wanted so badly to touch him but she’d lost that
right. So she just shook her head.

“I’m sorry.” And she fled down the stairs.

She drove away from the ranch like a maniac, swerving around
traffic and taking the curves at a high rate of speed. Wondering if maybe she
had a latent urge to kill herself and make all of this irrelevant.

How did Brian keep doing this? Why couldn’t she train her
body not to react to him? A tiny hysterical laugh bubbled from her throat.

Maybe I’m losing my mind.

By the time Fallon neared the interstate, she had herself
slightly more together. Pulling into a Starbucks, she ordered a latté and sat
in the parking lot drinking it, working up the courage to make the inevitable
call. Would he tell her to come to his house tonight? Would he insist she wait
until morning? Worse, will he have changed his mind, satisfied with disgracing
her to Cord and destroying that relationship?

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