Sinful Southern Hero: 2 (19 page)

The heat from Dalton’s body branded her everywhere they
touched, the firm, slick warmth of his tongue intoxicating as it danced with
her own. Before she realized she’d been picked up, her back slammed against a
wall and she felt her legs reflexively wrap around his strong hips while his
large hands clasped her ass. His tongue twisted against hers before retreating—but
she followed, wanting more.

“Good,” Dalton growled as he pulled his kiss-swollen lips
from hers. “I’ll make it good for you, darlin’, but you gotta tell me if anything
freaks you out. I can tone it down, but my dominance can seem aggressive
sometimes and I the last thing I want is for you to be afraid of me.”

The hesitant, wary look on his face that momentarily
replaced love and lust just about broke her heart. While Lucy understood her
past would still haunt her, she knew Dalton was nothing like Ross. He would
never hurt her or scare her on purpose. Dalton was the strongest man she’d ever
met, but right now, he needed her to be strong for him. Her man needed her
acceptance, her love, to give him confidence.

She couldn’t wait to give it to him.

“Put me down,” Lucy whispered.

Dalton sighed, gently sliding her down his body and holding
her until she was steady on her feet. He stepped back, reluctant but seemingly unsurprised
by her reaction.

The shirt she wore was sleeveless with pearl snap buttons.
Lucy thought it adorable paired with the jean shorts adorned with lace that she
wore. When the sound of the first pearl snap being released rent the air,
Dalton’s head snapped up from where it’d been hanging low, and his eyes
narrowed on her.

With deliberate slowness, Lucy removed her shirt, letting it
drop to the floor. Her bra followed. She toed off her sandals and slid her
shorts and panties off in succession. The clenching of Dalton’s jaw might have
scared her but she knew he wasn’t angry, but holding back, anticipating. This
huge, beautiful, powerful man who could have any woman he pleased wanted Lucy,
badly. The heady rush made her feel invincible.

She clasped her hands behind her back and looked up at him
through lowered lashes. “Tell me what you want, Dalton.” When he hesitated, she
implored. “I trust you. Trust me enough to know I’ll tell you if I’m not okay
with what we do.”

Dalton struggled with indecision until he remembered Jed’s
words of advice. Tip-toeing around Lucy wouldn’t get either of them to where
they wanted to be. He needed to show her how a D/s situation could actually
give her more control. Fear of doing something that would send Lucy running
made him nervous. He wanted this to be perfect.

Lucy stood with her hands clasped behind her back, pushing
her pink nipples forward in offering, her gaze heavy lidded as it raked over
him. She licked her lips and Dalton felt an answering twitch behind his zipper.

“I’ve read about this sort of thing, dominance and
submission, but I don’t have any real life experience.” Lucy’s voice was husky
and, as she spoke, a blush began on her chest and rose to her cheeks. “At
least, I don’t have experience with the healthy kind of dominance and
submission.” She released a self-deprecating laugh. “Don’t I need to pick a
safe word or something? Is there a five-page contract tucked into your pocket I
need to check mark my ‘dos and don’ts’ on?”

Some of the worry lifted from Dalton’s shoulders. His woman,
always witty, even when standing naked in a room with a fully clothed man twice
her size.

“No, darlin’. No safe word for now. It may be something we
discuss later, but at this point, if you tell me to stop or say no to anything,
I’ll stop. If you’re uncomfortable but don’t want to stop altogether, I want
you to speak up then too.” Dalton stepped close to Lucy and set his hands on
her smooth, soft shoulders. “You will be trusting me with our pleasure, but you
have ultimate control. While I want to push your boundaries, I never want you
to hurt in a way which doesn’t provide pleasure. You should never fear anything
we do to the extent your pleasure doesn’t override your apprehension.”

Lucy’s lips parted, her breaths coming in shallow pants. Her
eyes, now more blue than gray, watched him from beneath her lashes.

Dalton framed her face with his hands, enjoying the creamy
texture of her flesh beneath his palms. “Do you understand, Lucy? At any time,
if you feel uncomfortable, I want you to speak up. I will not be mad if you
tell me you don’t like something or aren’t ready for it. Never fear my
reaction. Even if my cock is poised at your entrance, ready to plunge inside
for the first stroke, you can tell me to stop and I will. I’ll never be upset
with you for expressing your feelings. Do you understand?”

Lucy nodded.

“I need to hear the words, darlin’.”

“Yes, I understand. If…if I say ‘stop’, you’ll stop. And you
won’t hurt me.” Lucy whispered the words as if she could hardly believe them to
be truthful.

Dalton pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her
bare back and feeling her breasts press against his chest. He rubbed his chin
against her hair and wished he could erase every moment of hurt she’d endured, every
injury and every harsh word. “You ready?”

He felt her nod against his chest.

Dalton stepped back, steeling himself for what he needed to
do first. Many first-timers thought they were ready to act as a submissive but
became so overwhelmed in the experience they wouldn’t voice their concerns or
say their safe word, if they had one, when things went too far. He needed to
test Lucy.

He unbuckled his belt and, with slow movements, he pulled it
from the loops on his jeans before placing it on the desk. He watched her eyes
flicker to the coiled leather belt, to his face, and back again. After removing
his clothing and boots, he picked up his belt, snapping it between his hands.
His expression schooled, he conjured his implacable Dom voice. “Bend over the
desk.”

Lucy’s eyes widened. “You’re not going to hit me with that,
are you?” She backed up a step. “I’m not ready for that. I might never be
ready.”

Dalton allowed his pride in her reaction to show. “Very
good, Lucy.” His woman never ceased surprising him. She’d passed his test. “That
was your first lesson. How to say ‘no’.”

Lucy stopped her retreat and her relief was so palpable he
could almost see the tension draining from her muscles. “So glad to please you,
professor,” she quipped, giving him a saucy wink.

“Sir,” Dalton replied, his tone low and rife with command.

Lucy tilted her head in question. “What?”

“‘Sir’, not ‘professor’.”

Dalton watched her eyes narrow for a fraction of a second
before they widened and lit with understanding.

“Now that I’ve passed your test, Sir, what would you like me
to do?”

Dalton gripped his shaft in one hand while still holding the
supple leather belt in his other. He studied his sub, his woman, noting her
taut nipples, dilated pupils and flushed skin. She was ready to begin. “Bend
over the desk and stretch your arms in front of you. Grip the edge.”

When she paused before moving to comply, he softened his
voice and reassured her. “I won’t be striking you with the belt, my hand or
anything else. I promise.”

Lucy pushed the laptop computer on her desk to the side and
bent forward, pressing her bare breasts to the gleaming wooden top and curling
her fingers around the front edge of the desk. Dalton clenched his jaw and an
involuntary rumbling sounded from deep within his chest. At the sight of her
plump, creamy white ass tilted up, bare pussy on display, glistening and ready,
a pearl of pre-cum appeared on the tip of his shaft and his balls drew tighter.

One hand pumped his shaft slowly from base to tip while he
used the other to stroke Lucy’s rounded cheeks, paying special attention to the
crease beneath each where ass met thigh. Each time he traced the line between
her ass and thigh, drawing close to her center but never touching her where she
wanted it most, Lucy responded with a needy whimper.

He wanted to catalog every dip, every curve and scar and
freckle on her body. Never had he spent this much time studying a woman’s body
before getting down to business. With this woman, though, he wanted the memory
crisp around the edges and seared into his brain for later playback.

Releasing his shaft, he used both hands to smooth a trail
over her lower back, around to her sides and over her ribs. As his hands slid
over the sides of her belly, he felt Lucy tense. Continuing his gentle ministrations,
he asked, “What’s going on inside that head of yours? Why don’t you want me
touching you here?” He kneaded her sides just below her ribs to emphasize his
point.

“Um.” Her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and began
again. “It’s…well…I’m not sure why you would want to touch me there.”

“Explain.”

“I’d rather you concentrate on the good parts of me.”

“Darlin’, all your parts are good.”

“You want me to say it? Fine.” Lucy released the edge of the
desk, drew her hands back toward her chest and used them as leverage to push
away from the desk and turn enough to spear him with a glare. “I’m chubby. My
body is so far away from Submissive Barbie’s body an airplane is needed to
travel between the two.” When Dalton would have interrupted, Lucy cut him off. “And
don’t you dare say something stupid like I’ve ‘just got extra cushion for the
pushin’ or ‘there’s just more of me to love’. So help me God, if you say
something like that I will kick your ass.”

Dalton chuckled at her tirade. This had obviously been bothering
her a while. Her being naked and bent over in front of him definitely made
arguing more fun. He ran his hands over her hips, grabbing a handful of each
and using his grip to hold her steady as he pressed the evidence of his arousal
against the cleft of her ass. “Feel what you do to me? I fucking love your
curves.”

Though she gasped and shivered when his hips grinding
against her ass caused her clit to press against the edge of the desk, she
continued listing her grievances. “Curves. Ever read an ad for a rental place
where the apartment is described as charming and you immediately know by
‘charming’ they mean it’s tiny and in need of repairs? ‘Curvy’ is just a polite
euphemism for fat. You can love my curves, I’m glad you do, but please don’t
ever call me curvy.”

Using his much larger body, Dalton bent over Lucy, pressing
his chest to her back, caging her in and causing her to lie flat against the
surface of the desk once more. He extended his arms, wrapping his fingers
around hers and pushing them back over her head. Not wanting to restrict her
breathing, he was careful of how much of his weight he allowed her to feel.
With his mouth close to her ear and his chin tucked into the bend of her neck,
he growled, “You’re right. Your body is nothing like Rachel’s.”

He watched Lucy squeeze her eyes shut and hated causing her
emotional pain but his point needed to be made.

“I’m not blind or delusional. You’re bigger than the women
I’ve been with in the past.”

A tear leaked from Lucy’s eye and ran over the bridge of her
nose. He squeezed her hands in reassurance.

“I see your scars, inside and out. I wish I could erase
them, not because they mar your beautiful skin but because the sight of them
causes you pain. I see you clearly as you are and you’re the only woman I want
beside me in life and under me in bed. Your body is smooth where a skinny
woman’s is sharp, soft where hers is hard. If I take you out to dinner, you’ll
eat a steak with me instead of starving yourself or worse, running to the
bathroom to puke it up while I pay the bill. I love every single way you’re
different than the women in my past. I love you, Lucy, as I’ve never loved
anyone before.”

When she spoke, her voice was devoid of anger and so quiet
he wouldn’t have heard her if his face hadn’t been pressed against hers. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated.

“Just so you know, you’re different than any man I’ve been
with, too.”

Levering himself up, he pushed away from her back and
straightened. “Yeah?”

Peeking over her shoulder, a sparkle replaced the tears in
her eyes and Dalton knew she was ready to lighten the mood. “Want to know how
you’re different?” Her eyes strayed to his groin and the impressive erection
cradled there.

He laughed and raised a brow for her to continue.

“Your dick is so much sma—”

Dalton mock growled and flipped her over onto her back while
she dissolved in a fit of giggles that thankfully didn’t allow her to finish
her sentence. “You’re in trouble now, darlin’.”

He kissed her, filling the simple act with enough passion
and possession to end her giggling. After ending the kiss, he withdrew,
retrieved his discarded leather belt and wrapped the length around her wrists,
all while retaining eye contact with Lucy. Once he was satisfied that her
wrists were properly bound, tight enough to restrict but not tight enough to
cause damage, he pushed them over her head so she was stretched out before him.
“Don’t move your hands. No matter what, keep them right there, understand?”

On a sigh, Lucy said, “Yes, Sir.”

Lips parted, breaths coming in fast, shallow pants and
passion glazed eyes transformed Lucy’s image from a timid abuse survivor into a
sensual goddess. Dalton couldn’t wait any longer.

“You ready for me, darlin’?” Dalton slid a hand between her
thighs, testing her readiness with two fingers while applying pressure to her
clit with his thumb. Her hips jerked upward at the contact. “I need to be
inside you, Lucy.”

“And I need you there.”

Not wasting another moment, Dalton snagged a condom from his
pants pocket and rolled it over his painfully hard dick. Grabbing Lucy’s hips,
he positioned himself and thrust inside her in one swift movement that caused a
moan to slide from his lips, accompanying Lucy’s gasp.

When she started to move her hands from where he had placed
them above her head, he growled a warning and withdrew until only the head of
his shaft was lodged inside her. “What did I tell you about your hands?”

Lucy writhed and wiggled, trying to pull him back inside
while carefully placing her hands back over her head. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Dalton asked, knowing the answer but wanting
to hear her say it.

“Please. Don’t stop. I need you inside of me. I want to
watch you come.”

Dalton felt his dick twitch at the sound of her words.
Wanting nothing more than to give Lucy what she needed, he angled his hips to
reach the sweet spot in her channel and thrust back inside of her, setting up a
pounding rhythm.

The rhythm and angle had them both moaning in concert each
time he thrust inside her wet heat. Straining and slick with sweat, Dalton
moved his grip to her knees and pushed them upward from where they’d settled at
his hips. The small shift in position allowed his dick to reach just the
slightest bit deeper and brought them both to a dizzying orgasm in seconds.

Drained of the tension and worry that had pulled at Dalton
for the past week, he collapsed forward onto Lucy, wrapping her in his arms and
pressing his nose behind her ear to breathe in her scent. Without looking up,
he removed the belt from her wrists.

* * * * *

Lucy was terrified. Not of the massive weight laid across
her nude body or the gentle kisses being placed behind her ear and along her
neck. No, what terrified Lucy were the dangerous feelings bubbling up through
the cracks Dalton had made in the wall around her heart. She felt…happy and
hopeful and it scared the ever-loving shit out of her.

Life had taught Lucy to be wary of hope and happiness
because they had the power to hurt her more significantly than any negative
emotion ever could.

With a groan, Dalton pushed himself off of her to stand.
When he offered her his hands, she hesitated, weighing the risk.

“Darlin’?” Dalton wiggled his fingertips and raised a brow
in challenge.

She could either hide for the rest of her life, never
letting anyone close enough to hurt her, never allowing herself to dare to feel
such foreign emotions as love and happiness, or she could say fuck it and take
a chance on a full life.