His Every Touch (For His Pleasure, Book 8)

His Every Touch (For His Pleasure, Book 8)

By Kelly Favor

© 2012 All Rights Reserved

Hunter closed the front door as Kallie walked past him into the house. He was still holding the contract that she’d hand written and signed. “You really mean this, Kallie?” he asked softly.

“Yes,” she breathed, her heart doing a pitter-patter dance in her chest. “I meant everything I said.”

I need to be punished.

Did she really mean that? Kallie had said it as a last, desperate attempt to get another chance with him. It had worked, but she wasn’t sure that was such a good thing.

“Come,” he said, his eyes soft, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

He walked to her and took her hand, and instantly she started to relax.

“Are we going to the basement?”

“No,” he said. “To my bedroom.”

She was confused. Hunter was always confusing her. That seemed to be what he specialized in. Not writing, not producing, not driving motorcycles—no, Hunter Reardon’s true specialty was confusing Kallie.

He walked upstairs with her, his hand intertwined with her own, and she was excited, because the last two times they’d gone to his bedroom had been sensual and beautiful. She enjoyed the basement too—in its own way—but this felt more intimate, this felt like something Hunter only did with someone he considered a girlfriend.

When they got to his room, Hunter nodded to the bed. “Get on the bed,” he said, as he suddenly pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor.

Now he was shirtless, his well-muscled torso smooth and perfect in every way.

Kallie walked to the bed and sat down on the edge of it.

Hunter moved toward her like a cat, graceful but quick, and next thing she knew he was on top of her, pushing her back, kissing her lips forcefully, hungrily.

She kissed him back, equally hungry for his taste, hungry to give herself to him again.

She caressed his flexed pectorals greedily as he kissed down her neck. And then he was taking her hands in his own, and pushing her arms so they were outstretched above her head. “Keep your arms up,” he said, his voice rough and growling.

She kept them just as he told her to, stretched all the way to almost the headboard.

He rolled off her, and the next thing she knew, he was fiddling with something over by the bedpost and then she felt him clamping some kind of handcuff over her left wrist.

He walked quickly around the bed, to the other side, and repeated the process. A manacle of some sort was attached to her right wrist also. Now she was lying on the bed, her arms attached to the bedposts by two restraints.

She wondered what he was going to do next. Hunter stood there, looking down at her, his chest heaving. “Do you want me to fuck you like this?” he said.

“Yes,” she gasped. Her heart was pounding so fast she could barely catch her breath. Her private place was instantly wet for him. The thought of him taking her in this way was exciting, frightening, and strangely erotic.

“Can you picture me slowly pulling down your skirt and then your panties?

Making you strip bare for me while my eyes take in every last detail?”

She nodded, barely able to speak now. He was making her even wetter, as he told her what he had planned. “I want to be bare for you, always,” she replied.

He nodded, but his eyes were hard and flinty as he looked down at her. “You want to feel my cock entering you, sliding into your deepest place and filling it up?”

“Yes, Hunter. Please fill me up.”

“Beg me to fuck you, Kallie.”

“Please. I’ll do anything.”

“You’ll be my little slut, Kallie? You’ll allow me to fuck you any way I want to fuck you, in any place, even in public if I desire?”

“Yes,” she said. Her thoughts raced. What did he have in mind?

“That’s very good,” he said, grinning. And then he turned and walked out of the room.

Kallie didn’t know why he’d left so suddenly. Perhaps, she thought, he’d gone to the basement to retrieve some kind of implement to use on her. She imagined him returning with a belt, a vibrator, a blindfold or whip.

And then the seconds turned into minutes and the minutes drew out. She looked around the room, feeling slightly panicked. Her ears strained for any sign of him in the house, but she didn’t hear his footsteps. In fact, she didn’t hear anything.

He was gone. He’d left her tied to the bed and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it.

More time passed. The restraints on her wrists were starting to chafe, and it wasn’t helping that she was pulling on them. Kallie was growing ever more anxious as her mind started to consider some of the worst-case scenarios.

What if he leaves the house for an entire night and I lie here, unable to get up to
do anything, even relieve myself? Or worse yet—what if he gets in a car accident and
doesn’t come back for days? I could die here. Stranger things have happened.

She knew this was all mind theatre, and yet it was strangely compelling. With no hint of reassurance on Hunter’s part, Kallie was left to her own devices, and the results were frightening. She was stifling the desire to scream for help.

How long has it even been? She wondered. Have I been tied up for thirty minutes, an hour, more?

She glanced up at the restraints holding her wrists. They were leather, lined with fur, and attached to metal chains that were affixed to sturdy posts at the top of the bed.

Even using all her arm strength, she couldn’t budge them.

“Hunter,” she called, breaking down after still more time passed. “Hunter! I’m scared!”

She hated to break down like this, but the anxiety was too much.

He’d left her.

She’d expected punishment, sure—spanking, whipping, and even verbal humiliation. All of those made sense—all of those were things she was prepared for, at some level.

What she hadn’t prepared for was that Hunter might simply leave her. This was the worst kind of torture.

It reminded her of when she was a kid. Her parents hadn’t been extreme disciplinarians, but they’d been very firm and tough when needed. One day when Kallie was about eight years old, she’d refused to eat spaghetti and meatballs for the second night in a row, and her father had angrily ordered her to go to her room for the rest of the night.

At first, she’d been glad to do so. But as the time went on, and she’d heard her brothers playing, and her parents laughing, she’d started to regret her behavior. She’d wanted to go and join her family. So Kallie had left her room, intending to apologize.

The minute she showed her face, both of her parents screamed at her, told her to go back to her room and stay there.

She’d fled to her room, sobbing, thinking about the looks of hatred and disgust that had been seared on their faces. The rest of the night had been spent praying to God for forgiveness, hoping and wishing that her mother and father might come and sit down and talk to her.

But they never had. Eventually, she’d fallen asleep, and the next day it was as if the whole thing had never happened. But Kallie never forgot, and she very rarely if ever disobeyed her parents again.

Hunter leaving her now seemed to reawaken that old wound, bringing forth fresh pain. She was afraid again, as if she’d never really grown up. It was as if she was still that same eight year old, and once the lights were off and the door to her bedroom was closed, she was horrified all over again of being left alone.

“Hunter!” she cried out again. More time had gone by now.

She tried to close her eyes and sleep. She was deeply uncomfortable now, and unable to really move into a better position. Her arms were sore and the muscles were rebelling. This was becoming torture—real and actual torture.

And Kallie was getting angry. Now, instead of feeling badly for what she’d done to deserve this punishment, Kallie was glad that she’d done it. She should have looked through every last drawer, in every nightstand and dresser and desk in his entire house.

And just when her anger was reaching its peak, Hunter suddenly appeared in the doorway. He looked at her, as if assessing her general state, and then quickly moved to let her out of her bondage.

Seconds later, she was free of her restraints, and tears were rolling down her face as she rubbed her sore wrists.

He sat down beside her on the bed. “That was necessary,” he said.

“Fuck you,” she cried.

“Kallie, don’t speak to me like that. You signed a contract, remember?”

“I didn’t sign up for that. You left me, Hunter. You left me tied up for hours.”

“It was exactly seventy-nine minutes,” he said. “Not even an hour and a half.”

“I don’t care how long it was. I was scared and I called your name over and over.

What if something had been wrong with me? You never even checked.”

“I told you I have cameras all over this house, Kallie. You were never in any danger. I’d never let any harm come to you.”

She just shook her head, and then she sat up and dried her tears. Now they were sitting next to one another on the bed. She smiled glumly. “I guess I have nobody to blame but myself for getting into this situation.”

“That’s accurate.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes narrowed. “You’re so superior. And yet you’re the most guarded person I’ve ever met.”

His mouth curved up into an angry smile. “I need to be guarded around someone that goes through my drawers and looks at my private things, don’t I?”

“What do you want from me?” She was so frustrated that she almost wanted to beat his chest.

“I’ll tell you what I want. I want you to submit.”

“You tied me up. You fucked me. You came in my mouth.”

“None of that matters if you won’t truly submit to me, Kallie.” He got off the bed and started to pace the room. “You signing that paper doesn’t mean a thing if you continue to defy me in subtle ways, resisting me, trying to find my weak points so you can break me down.”

“I’ve never done this before. I don’t even know what any of it means.”

He turned and faced her. “Then let me teach you. Submit.”

She pounded her fists against the bed. “I did. I did. I did.”

“No.” He shook his head. “See?” He made fists and a pouting face, like a child, mimicking her pounding the bed. And then he smiled and relaxed. “That’s called being a brat, Kallie. You need to do better than that.”

She hung her head. “All I know is I want to be with you. I came here today to give myself to you. And then you humiliate me, you leave me alone, and I didn’t understand what was going on.”

“Do you want to learn? Or should we tear up that contract?”

She sat on the bed, staring into space. Nothing made sense anymore. Five minutes ago she’d wanted to slap his face for leaving her tied up so long. Now, she wanted him to hold her and lay with her on the bed. She wanted him to hold her from behind like he had before, his strong arms keeping her close to him all night long.

Perhaps if she could come up with the right answer, he’d hold her like that tonight, she thought. “I don’t want to tear up the contract,” she said. “I want to learn.”

“Good.” He nodded approvingly. “Get up.”

Immediately, she stood. Maybe now it was time for a spanking, or something in the basement. She wanted his attention again. She wanted his rough, strong hands touching her body in all the right places.

She tried to meet his gaze and smile, tried to get him to acknowledge her. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. He looked past her. “That’s all for today,” he said flatly.

“Excuse me?”

“You can leave now.”

“I don’t understand.”

He pointed to the door. “Leave my house. Go home and await further instructions.”

“Oh. Okay.” She turned away from him, her shoulders slumped, and walked out of the room. He didn’t follow her out, and so she treaded downstairs and then out the front door. All the time, she was hoping that Hunter might call out to her, tell her that he was just kidding about sending her home.

But he never came for her.

She got in her car and took a deep breath. He’d said there would be further instructions, at least. So even though it was over for the day, she could look forward to something happening in the near future.

Then again, maybe this was just his way of kicking her out of his life and making her suffer more in the process. She’d wait and wait and wait for his “instructions” and they would never come.

Kallie started the car and drove away from Hunter’s house. She was exhausted, and she also felt very low. Part of her was angry and wanted to lash out, call Hunter up and tell him what a bastard he’d been to her. But she knew it would be completely useless to try and rope him back into that kind of interaction.

The roles were now clear.

She was to be his submissive, and that meant waiting for his call—waiting for his move.

A few minutes after she got out of sight of his house, her cell phone rang.

Kallie’s heart leapt, because it made sense that this might be Hunter calling to give her new instructions. Perhaps his instruction would be for Kallie to turn her car around and come right back to his house.

She was already starting to smile as she took the cell phone out of her purse.

Only, it wasn’t Hunter, it was her mother’s number. “Shit.” That was the very last person she wanted to talk to right now.

Kallie ignored the call, let it go to voicemail.

A few minutes later, it was ringing again. Her mother, again.

Kallie was worried it might be something important, so this time she answered.

“Hey, Mom, everything all right?”

“I just wanted to call and talk to you about our plans to come visit,” she said, her voice expressing a happiness that was the polar opposite of how Kallie felt at the moment.

“Oh, okay,” Kallie said, trying not to show her frustration at having this conversation right now.

Her mother continued happily. “So, after talking it all over with everyone, including Lydia’s family—we decided to make the celebration dinner for next Saturday!”

“Really? That fast?”