Stolen Melody (Snow and Ash #2) (12 page)

“One of my bodyguards was here.”

Axel shifts his weight. “Did he recognize you?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know. He didn’t act like it.”

He presses his lips together. “What’s his name?”

I throw my hands wide. “Randy something.”

“He was your bodyguard. You don’t know his name?”

“Three years ago!”

He rakes his hands over his soft Velcro hair. “How am I supposed to find him?”

I wipe my hands over my face. “God, Axel, you should have seen me. I totally wimped out. I hid in the back until he gave up and left.”

He nods slowly and stares off as though weighing what I’ve said.

“Is this bad?” I twist my hands together. “It’s bad, isn’t it?”

Axel lifts his shoulder ever so slightly. “What’s this dude look like?”

I think back and give him a description.

His lips thin, but then he smiles and puts his arm around my shoulder. “You probably don’t need to worry.”

Probably isn’t good enough for me, and I level him with a WTF look.

He shakes his head and gives me a wry smile as he unlocks the door and guides me outside. “Don’t worry about it, Melody—”

“Imogen!”

“—I’ve got it covered.”

The second the front door closes, Axel backs me up until I’m smack up against it.
 
He seizes my wrists in an iron grip and pins my arms up over my head, kisses me, and grinds his dick against me like he’s got to stick it in me now.

“Axel, please.” I turn my face away and push against his chest. “We just walked through the door.”

He captures my chin in his hand and forces me to look at him. “What’s his name?”

I try to pull away, but his grip is merciless. The cruel glint in his eyes scares me. It also sends a surge of excitement to my belly, and moisture seeps between my already thickening folds.

“Don’t mess with me, Melody.” He peels back my collar and takes a deep, long suck on the tender skin of my neck.

“Stop, Axel. Stop! I told you, I don’t know his last name!” My pussy weeps. I know what he’s doing. He’s making sure there’s no doubt in that other man’s mind that I belong to him. It shames me that with just one glance, everyone will know what he’s done with me, what I’ve let him do. I hate that I part my legs, for angling myself toward his dick, but I have to. I want to.

As quickly as he seized me, Axel steps back, spins me around and yanks off my coat. I’m wearing two shirts underneath, and he lifts both over my head until I’m standing there in nothing but my bra, my jeans, and my boots.

“Take those off,” he says, nodding to the jeans, the boots.

I bite my lip. He was so wonderful last night. What happened?

“I said take those off.” He removes his jacket and flicks off his boots. The knife edge in his voice tells me he’s not kidding.

My heart pounds in my chest, but knowing it’ll go easier for me if I do as he says, I unlace my boots and kick them to the side of the couch. I unzip my pants and pull them down. Just as I’ve stepped free of them, Axel shoves me over the end of the couch, tears my panties off, and spanks my behind.
 

“Ouch! What are you doing?” Despite the pain, shock washes over me like ice cold water.

He delivers a series of stinging slaps, ignoring my pleas. He plants his hands on my hips as he kicks my legs apart. “Who was he?” he demands.

My throat swells and I let out the first sob. How can he do this to me?

“He was just my bodyguard,” I say through my tears.

“Not good enough, Melody.” The spanking starts again. He’s not gentle, and my ass cheeks feel as though they’re on fire.

“Nothing happened,” I sob over my shoulder. “I swear it.”

He grabs me by the hair and pulls me upright, the denim of his jeans chafing my raw skin. “I saw how you dressed back then. How you acted.”

“I told you, it was all scripted. Please believe me.”

“Did you let him touch your titties?” he murmurs in my ear. His other hand comes around me, circles my belly, and disappears into the dark thatch of curls between my legs. I cringe at the slurpy wet sounds his fingers make when he finds my slit.

“No!” I’m really crying now, the snot-bubbling-at-the-end-of-your-nose kind of crying. “I was a virgin when we met. You know that.”

He grunts and shoves a finger inside me. Two. My heart cracks at this change in him. “I thought you said you would protect me. Why are you treating me this way?”

“You need to understand who owns you.” He withdraws his fingers and spreads my juices over my clit.

“No one owns me.” My body becomes lethargic as he works his magic between my legs. My eyes flutter shut as I part my thighs for him.

His hand stills, and he clutches my crotch. “Do you want me to spank your pussy?”

The mere thought of it makes me moan. I undulate my hips, wanting—no, needing—him to continue. Abruptly he pushes me away, unhooks my bra and pulls it off my shoulders, and at the first sweet kiss of the cool air, my nipples go stiff.

His lips close over the tip of my breast and he sucks hard, sending a liquid scream straight to my womb.

“Oh yes!” I plunge my hands into the stubbly growth of his hair and arch up to meet him.

“Did he do this to you?” His teeth clamp down on my nipple, and the pain mixed with the pleasure is so intense I cry out. I’m like a cat in heat times ten, and when his tongue draws lazy circles around the other nipple, I’m so hot with need that I want to beg him to do it like a man, not a boy. He clamps down on that one, sucking and nipping until it stands engorged and purple. He pinches the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Cruelly.

“No,” I moan. I want him pulsing inside me, stretching me as far as I can go.

When he straightens, I see the vulnerability in his eyes and I finally realize that he’s jealous. He wants to master me so completely that I’ll never think about another man. I know. Deep in my blood, I know. And I want it. I want him to command me, to do whatever sick, painful thing he wants to do to me.

He reaches down and unzips his pants, releasing his cock. It’s thick and rigid, and at its base is a nest of curly dark hair. My insides twitch at the sight.

He takes his dick in his hand and gives it a stroke. A drop of precum glistens at the head. “Suck me off.”

I recoil. I shake my head. I’m not putting my mouth on that.

“If you want me to forget you let that man suck your teats, you’ll do as I say.”

“He didn’t! I didn’t!”

The look he gives me, half contempt, half satisfaction, tells me I’m not getting off so easy. “Touch yourself,” he commands.

“I…Axel!” I’ve never masturbated. Not by myself, and certainly not in front of someone!

“Lie down. Over there, in front of the fire.”

With a sigh of relief I move over toward the fire, conscious that he’s still clothed and watching as my bare breasts sway with every step.

“Lie down, no, with your cunt facing me. That’s right. Now bend your knees.”

I scramble to obey, and I gaze up at him through lust-clouded eyes, eager for him to stop this torture and pump me with his cock.

“Wider,” he says, stroking his member. “Spread your legs as wide as you can.”

I feel like a dirty girl, but I can’t help it. Something won’t let me say no. I spread my legs as wide as they’ll go.

He tilts his head to one side. “Now play with that little pussy of yours.”

“I can’t!” As badly as I want to come, no way am I going to…do that.

“Who owns you?” he demands, taking a step toward me.

“Axel—”

“If I don’t see you fuck yourself in the next five seconds, I’m going to spank your cunt until you can’t pee for a week. Do it, Melody.”

My face is on fire, and all that arousal I felt only moments ago goes out the chimney. He means what he says. He will hurt me.

I feel a quiver of fear as I run my hand down my belly. I hesitate.

“Did you let that man eat your pussy?”

I squeeze my eyes shut and jam my fingers into my pubic hair.

“Stick your finger in your slit.”

I insert my middle finger, expecting to feel nothing but humiliation. I find it warm and wet. My finger slides in easily, and I gasp at the sensuality of it.

“Two fingers.” I open my eyes to find him standing between my legs, his long, thick cock wrapped in his hand.

I squeeze my eyes again, and a tear rolls down the side of my face. I ease my index finger in too, and my pussy clamps down on them both.

“Fuck your cunt, baby. Do it.” His voice is husky with need, and I ache for him.

For a moment our eyes lock as I begin easing my fingers in and out. His gaze is so full of lust that again, I’m afraid. What will happen to me if I disobey? What if, despite what he said last night, I displease him and he throws me to the other men?

“Now your clit. Yeah, like that.” He fists his cock down, then up slowly until only the tip shows. Then down, and up, all without breaking our stare.

I draw my fingers up and around my clit, spreading my wetness, and as I do, I pull in a shuddering breath. It. Feels. So. Good. I no longer care how I look. I don’t care how debasing it is to lie with my legs spread open, fingering myself like a slut while Axel stands over me stroking his cock. I’ll do whatever he wants. Anything at all.

My fingers have a will of their own, and soon my hips spank the floor to the rhythm of Axels thrusts. He sucks in a breath, and his strokes come faster. He pumps harder, and his lips pull back in a feral growl. Seeing him like this, primitive with need, excites me even further. I continue the assault on my clit, and I use my other hand to squeeze and pinch my nipples. My pussy twitches, and I can feel myself getting close. So close.

“Look at you,” he grinds out. “Writhing around like a dirty little whore.”

His words send me over the edge, and I arch my back, clamp my thighs down on my hand, and rock against it as a powerful orgasm sweeps through me. My clit is still throbbing when Axel throws his head back. Groaning, he works his cock as jet after jet of cum shoots onto my breasts and belly.

It’s the dirtiest, nastiest thing I’ve ever done. I feel so utterly complete.

I lie as I am for several moments, savoring this feeling of peace. Eventually I move to get up.

“Stay there,” Axel growls. He positions himself over me, and my nose is on level with his penis. “Clean me.”

Oh shit. The look he gives me tells me he means it.

“I am your master. If you want me to protect you, you’ll never look at another man again.”

“I was sixteen,” I say brokenly. “He was just my bodyguard.”

He brings the tip of his softening cock to my lips.

I breathe in the scent of sweat and sex. I wrap my lips around the head and taste his cum. I lick him well, first his penis, then his glans, his testicles. I lick the spot behind his balls, almost to his anus, then back up to the tip of his cock, tasting both damnation and ecstasy. I draw him inside me until my nose is pressed into his flesh, and he groans and clutches my head. In cleaning him, I feel cleansed.

His dick is still inside my mouth when he sighs and arches his back. “Who do you belong to?”

I finish him with a long, sweeping suck. “You, Axel. Only you.”

I wake up to find Axel sitting up in bed, his head buried in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” I stretch. My whole body aches, and I groan.

He looks at me with horror and regret. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…” He shudders and turns away. “I dreamed about you for so long, and now that I have you, I can’t let go of you.”

Despite how sore I am, I sit up and bring his lips to mine. His eyelids flutter shut, and he clutches me to him. He deepens the kiss, then seems to remember himself and softens his lips to a gentle caress. He pushes me back against the mattress and lays his head just below my breasts.

“I can’t stand the thought of you with another man. I can’t live without you.”

I stroke his head, and I feel possession—his for me, mine for him. It’s a weird feeling, a new one.
 
I found it last night and I don’t want to let it go. “You’re crazy. Last time I saw him, I was sixteen. That guy’s way older than me.”

He turns his head and kisses my belly. He looks up at me, his eyes filled with a plea. I lick my lips, giving him my consent, and he raises the shirt up over my head. This time he takes me from behind, and our mating is not soft. It is not gentle. It is filled with a desperate sort of need, and when he releases himself deep inside me, I feel whole. Complete.

“I don’t know why I need to hurt you,” he tells me as he plants soft kisses over my bruised backside. “I can’t stop it.”

“I know.” It should bother me, but strangely enough it doesn’t. This morning I feel so peaceful. The blows on my backside hurt—hurt—but at the same time, the correction gave me relief. It was like he took away all that pressure I’d been feeling these past few years. Belonging to him fills me with bliss. I feel safe. Clean. Needed. If I’m honest with myself, I want him to do it again. The discipline he gives me—I need the release. The absolution.