The Favor (7 page)

“Good morning,” Jared whispered, his accent bathing me as I burrowed into his chest.

“Good morning to you,” I replied, my voice muffled as I hid my smile. “Sleep well?”

“Definitely. I haven't had anyone to spoon with in a while. I didn't realize I slept better with company.”

I laughed and lifted my head, looking up at him and blinking. It was just sinful for anyone to wake up looking that damn good. His dark hair was curled around his ear,; his dark lashes framed his beautiful eyes that still held their warmth.

“It was probably this lavish bed.”

“There's that, too,” he murmured as his hands rubbed my ribs.

I rolled onto my back and stared up at the ceiling, my smile still firmly in place as I stretched. I felt his arm tense under me and looked up at him, finding his eyes not on mine but on the breast that was exposed from the robe slipping farther open as I moved. He looked hungrily at me and I held my breath, not wanting to break the moment. I was enjoying the look he was giving me entirely too much. Of course, my traitorous body responded in turn, my nipples hardening with arousal and breaking the spell. The moment he blinked, I pulled the robe back across my chest, covering myself up and mumbling an apology to him.

“How about we take a shower and meet for breakfast?” He paused, his mind obviously ticking before the next words tumbled out quickly. “Not shower together… I meant separately. Then meet.”

That did it for me. I started laughing, hard, and after a brief scowl at my unexpected reaction, he joined me, the deep baritone rumbling from his chest before he rolled away and threw his head back. He had a nice laugh, a surprise considering how little he did it.

The two of us ended up on our backs, the last of our laughter fading, leaving the ambient sounds of the swamp to fill the silence. Once again I was struck with the feeling of contentment in being there. Even shut indoors, I could hear the peacefulness that settled around us. I'd always assumed that having grown up in the city, the silence would be deafening to me, but it had its own charms. I was so lost in my own thoughts that the gentle brush of his fingers pushing my hair over my shoulder startled me.

“I'm sorry,” he uttered quietly, leaning closer.

“For what?” I whispered in response, unsure of where this was going.

He didn't respond verbally. Instead he leaned in further, those exquisite lips brushing against mine almost tenderly. The kiss was long and slow-burning, skin brushing against skin until the inevitable shift happened and our hunger took control. We were a mass of limbs, squeezing and pulling one another closer, our teeth nipping and biting before our tongues battled it out and my quiet mewls of arousal were swallowed by him.

My hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as my leg wrapped around his. The fire in my belly pushed me onward as my body's natural response to him dampened my thighs. His hand, which had been gripping my hip, pulled at the robe’s tie, allowing the material to fall apart as though he were unwrapping a present. I had a feeling I was going to be the one gifted with something and, unable to stop them, my thighs fell apart in a silent invitation. Jared’s hand wasted no time in moving to my legs, and a guttural growl of intent fell from him as his fingers slid through my wet folds.

He knew how much I wanted him. It wasn’t like I could hide my body’s reaction to his touch. My skin tingled, and my toes curled as he took his time exploring, turning up the heat with every brush of his fingers against my heated skin. His body was responding accordingly as though reacting directly to the movements of mine. His hips thrust forward, rocking his hardened cock against my hip from behind his pants. He was a monster, and the feel of him made me clench in anticipation. He felt it too, his exploring fingers feeling the twitch in my clitoris.

I wanted him inside me with so much passion that I ached, my body moving with his until the need became painful. I knew I couldn’t take much more of this teasing, even if I was well trained to do so, and my hands moved of their own volition, unbuttoning his pants with desperate and jerky movements of my fingers.

“Fuck me,” I whispered against his lips, my hand closing around him as my thumb brushed the damp head of his cock and made him jerk. “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he growled, pushing my thighs apart as he maneuvered his pants off. I clawed at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to get closer to him before shrugging off my robe and lifting my hips in invitation. He settled between my thighs, his eyes meeting mine as he sheathed himself inside me in one violent rock of his hips.

I cried out in surprise and pleasure, the width and length of him having my full attention as my body stretched painfully to accommodate him, my toes pulling my legs further apart to give him more room to move. My back arched from the bed in a high curve, torn between begging him for more and retreating as I panted for air.

Jared’s arms trembled on either side of me as he held his weight, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as he grunted in pleasure and frustration. He was obviously allowing me time to adjust to the sudden invasion of his body into mine, but he couldn’t hold it for long, need taking control as he moved, the explosion of sensation and friction silencing every thought in my mind as his gentle rocking progressed to him pounding into me relentlessly.

My hips lifted, rolling and meeting his, while my legs trembled under the weight of him and the velocity of his thrusts. We must have done this for hours, my climaxes slowly building and orgasms falling free until the agony of them was overwhelming. My cries of pure ecstasy eventually turned to grunts of the most torturously beautiful pain I’d ever endured. Jared took his time, the feral nature of his movements carrying him.

I’d lost count of my orgasms when he pushed beyond his tentative control, his hips continuing to hammer him into me. His wild eyes had dropped to the connection of our bodies, where his dick penetrated me deeply, and it was only when his eyes lifted and met mine that he saw my tears flowing freely. Something he immediately registered. I felt him falter, clarity coming to his features even as his cock throbbed against my sensitive walls. Then he slowed.

“No. Don't stop. Oh, fuck.”

I lived for this pleasurable pain. I lusted after the torture, and this was the most beautiful blend of the two as it pushed me higher. He didn’t understand, and he sure as hell didn't listen, his chivalry winning out, forcing his ass to swing back as though he was about to retreat. We were so close, so fucking close that I wrapped my legs around him. The heels of my feet pushed his ass so he was flush against me, buried deep.

My whole body shuddered as the most painful of the climaxes clawed through my body, forcing my aching muscles to shudder. I needed him to come with me. I needed him to see that pleasure and pain were synonymous for me – that I couldn’t control the tears and didn’t want to. No matter how much he tried to hide it, I knew I was making it impossible for him to not be turned on. As the pain took over and my eyes closed, my body bowed against him and I felt the swell just before he hammered into me with bruising force, his cries of pleasure filling the air and shattering me completely.

He was a Dominant all right, but he didn't know it, and clearly despised himself for needing to hear the pain and see the tears before he could finish. Luckily, I was just the girl to set the record straight for him and maybe give him some peace in the wake of it, because holy shit, I was going to need some hugs and TLC after this.

The aftermath of probably the most intense sex I'd had in my life was all heavy breathing and sweaty bodies. Where we touched, our slick skin slid together and I knew he was worried about moving in fear of hurting me. He hadn't looked me in the eyes since he'd seen my tears, and I could almost feel the guilt rolling from him in waves.

Now I understood.

Only a submissive could handle that kind of sex, and I would have wagered my next paycheck that this was how sex with him always went, the girls he'd chosen in the past folding halfway through, unable to go any further. I was a creature of painful pleasure. I'd taken beatings and been fucked with tears and blood marring my body. I'd had forced orgasms simply to prove that it could be done and I'd had some impressive tools used on the most sensitive parts of my body, and I’d loved every single second of it.

I had my limits. Everyone did, but I was an open book to anyone that was willing to read me. Maybe I just had to teach him how to translate the pages, because as much as I respected him and what he was dealing with, right now I needed to feel treasured and cherished. I needed to be cleaned and held, and it wasn't just for my benefit. It was give and take. He gave the pain and I took the pleasure. When it was all over, I became needy and ate his guilt for what had happened. It was the basic foundation of Dom and sub. It was much more complex than that, but boiled down, this was what it was.

“Jared?”

“I'm so bloody sorry, Kit. I knew better. This always happens. It's... there's a dark side to me and I can't seem to stop myself until it's too late.”

“Can I ask you a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Fill that monster bathtub up and come soak with me. Then we'll talk.”

He paused, his breathing still labored as his flaccid cock shifted inside me, making me shiver. Slowly, he lifted up on his arms, his head rising from its place on my shoulder until his eyes met mine. I gave him a sunny smile and watched as a thousand emotions passed behind his currently vulnerable eyes. He was waiting for floods of tears and accusations, demands that he get off me, but he'd be waiting a long time. I reached up and cupped his face in my hands. Taking on the role of teacher for a while wasn't going to kill me.

“You're not upset? I just... Kit, you were crying!”

“And I'm guessing that's not the first time that's happened?”

He shook his head, still looking confused about my calm demeanor and gentle touches. By all rights, I think he expected me to be beating on his chest and calling him a monster.

“Bath first, talk second. You may have to carry this damsel. I can't feel my legs.” I put my finger on his lips to stop another roll of apologies and fluttered my eyelashes at him with a grin. My other hand pointed to the bathroom and I finally saw a shadow of a smile on his swollen lips.

I tried hard to keep the yelp of pain to myself as he withdrew slowly and climbed off the bed, and I almost managed it. Unfortunately, the head of him knocked my over-sensitive clit, making me hiss through my teeth. Before he could get a word out, I pointed to the bathroom again, my genuine smile going full beam as he shook his head in disbelief.

I watched his gorgeous ass retreat into the bathroom before collapsing against the bed and laughing to myself. Christ, when God was handing out cocks, that boy was at the front of the line. I'd had a few guys in my time. It was the nature of the beast, but he was something else entirely. Charles was probably going to be proud as sin about it, too.

Now, however, I had to come up with a way to explain all of this without him feeling like a sexual deviant. I had to make sure that he understood that, no matter what stigma there was about our chosen lifestyle, it was completely natural. We had needs like everyone else; they just weren't as common as most others.

I tried sitting up and smiled at the aches that ran through my body. It wasn't in just the obvious places. It was my hips. I could already feel the speckle of bruises where he'd been gripping me. It was my ribs, where I'd twisted to accept him deeper. My fingernails hurt from digging into his hair. My own scalp, from my fingers twisting and pulling at the follicles after the third or fourth orgasm he'd given me. I felt alive and exhausted all at the same time.

Placing a tentative foot on the ground, I got up and groaned as I stretched out my aching thigh muscles. I knew I'd gone too far when I reached my arms above me and I teetered on the spot. There was no saving myself, and the worst part about it was that Jared was going to beat himself up about it... Or perhaps not. As my legs folded under me, I felt strong arms sweep me off my feet and the warm musky smell of his body wrapping around my senses as he pulled me against him.

“Jesus Christ, you can't even walk.”

“You say that like it's a bad thing.” I chortled, relaxing against his chest as he headed toward the bathroom. He lowered me to my feet in the steaming hot water and I sighed in relief, only letting out a string of profanities that would put a sailor to shame when my tender pussy was submerged.

“I think you managed a few I didn't know in there.”

“Welcome to Louisiana,” I threw back at him, carefully shuffling forward to make room for him behind me.

He didn't hesitate. His long, sleek body climbed in behind mine, his legs framing me as he coaxed me back against his chest. He never stopped touching me. He dragged the water up my arms and over my shoulders before his arm became a bar over my stomach and we just soaked for a while.

I was waiting for him to ask questions, but it became abundantly clear that he was holding his shame and stroking it like a cat. As much as I didn't want to freak him out, we had to talk about it.

“Jared?”

“Mmm?”

“Why did you apologize?”

It took him a while to respond. I felt him tense under me before he let go of a long sigh. He was obviously choosing his words, which was fine, but unnecessary. I was only going to upset him with my chosen path. As much as I didn't want to do that, he needed to know that I understood.

“I hurt you, Kit. I made you cry. It was supposed to be about fun, pleasure, and I hurt you.”

“But it's what you needed in order to get off.”

“Kit—”

“I know, because it's what I need, too.”

Silence. That was the response to my confession, but I'd expected that. There was plenty of hot water to wait him out. I literally laid on top of him – feeble, but still an anchor to keep him in place.

“You say that like it's normal.”

“It is for me. I'm a masochistic submissive. Pain and deference are two things that I need in order to get off. Just like giving pain and, I suspect, someone folding under your will is normal for you.”