UNDER BY DURESS (8 page)

“Two.”

She aimed for his upper back, but it was hollowed in because the rope stretched him too high pulling his shoulder blades together. She moved to the branch and added slack to the rope until his back was flat and smooth. She didn’t look at him, but she sensed him watching her every move.

The third stroke left a diagonal stripe from his right shoulder blade to just before his mid-spine. She stepped away and managed to create a parallel stripe on his left side. Rossini grunted that time. She lowered her aim and landed a gentler one across the middle of his back so the leather missed his spine. The tip coiled around his waist and he danced at the end of his rope.

“
Cazzo
!”

She swiped his behind, sparking a strangled cry.

“How many, not including that one?”

“
Five
.”

He was paying attention. She laid into his backside without pause sparing no mercy.

“How many?”

For a moment, he could not find the breath. Then he gasped out, “
Ten
.”

She lifted her arm to strike him and couldn’t find the will to continue. This wasn’t her. “It is enough.”

His head lifted as she swapped belt for stun gun then moved towards him. He frowned as she released him from his bindings.

She read the question in his eyes and sighed. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He bit his lip.

“You can speak now.”

“I can take it, Tahima.”

“It’s not
you
I want to hurt.”

“Stephen.” He growled the name deep in his throat.

“Yes.”

His hand lifted and she stepped back. “Don’t touch me.”

Anger flared in his eyes. “What the fuck did he do to you?”

She quashed a rising panic. He wasn’t mad at her. “Will you put the cuffs back on?”

Rossini looked confused. “I said I would.”

She looked at his frighteningly hard cock. “Then I will deal with that.”

His six-pack clenched. He hesitated then said, “So let me get this straight. You need the stun gun and cuffs to make you feel safe enough to . . . I still scare you?”

“Yes. I trust you, but you still scare me. I shouldn’t trust you. It’s all wrong. I think I don’t trust myself.”

“I think the cuffs distance you. Remind you that I’m a murder suspect on the run from the police. You need an excuse to take control.”

Resentment flared. “
Don’t try to analyze me
!”

“God, Tahima, why are you so ashamed of who you are?”

“Because he made me feel like trash.” The words spilled out before she could stop them. Hot tears sprang in their wake.

Rossini pulled her into his arms before she could react. His insistent cock dug into her hip. The electrodes of the gun pressed against his stomach. She only had to press the trigger.

Instead, she sobbed into his chest. “He said I was trash.”

“You are not trash, I swear to you. You could never be trash.”

His lips touched her forehead, traveled over her wet eyelids. She was unaccustomed to the sensation, the tenderness behind his caress. She moaned in her throat. His fingers sought and found her breast under her T-shirt. His touch was urgent. Demanding.

Taking control.

Anger, fear, heat, emotions too tangled to name, reared up. Her shove sent him stumbling back.

Chagrin filled his face. He raised his hands, palms towards her. “Tahima . . .”

“
I said,
don’t touch me
. You are
not
in charge here.”

“I know.”

“Assume the position.”

His head jerked back and his eyes darkened. She sensed his conflict and nearly raised the stun gun, but then he dropped to parted knees, whether from fear or obedience, she did not know. Bowing his head, he rested his knuckles on his knees. His fingers curled open. Relaxed. Giving. He did not look up. Seeing him like that hit her in a place she did not know existed.

Desire for him welled.

She beat it down and looked around for inspiration. Her eyes fell on the discarded cuffs and irons. She picked up the handcuffs first, the solid weight calming. She stood there, thinking. Why was he doing this? Gian Antonio Rossini: Mafia heir; Crime lord; Murderer; Commanding; Gentle; Honorable. He had given her his word, and so far his word held true. He wasn’t moving. But his inner battle was betrayed by the growing tension in his shoulders.

This wasn’t him, either. What was driving him?

Why did she want him so much?

The question shocked her. Undermined everything she had been working for since walking away from a man she had given body and soul. She had said never again. Women like her were disposable. Property to be discarded. A toy to be abandoned.

It was the process of domination that thrilled men like Rossini. He even twisted survival into seduction. But their journey had a purpose and she could not afford to let her guard down. She raised the stun gun. This was her real power.

She moved in front of him, cuffs in one hand, weapon ready in the other. “Put these on.”

He looked up. Her stomach clenched at the range of emotions that flitted across his face before he took them. He locked one wrist; correctly deducing she intended to restrain him in front. He placed his other wrist inside the remaining cuff.

Tahima closed it. She lowered the stun gun. “Nothing’s changed. I’m handing you over to the sheriff.”

He stared up at her. “That’s it?” Frustration colored his cheeks. “You’re either very scared, Tahima.” He looked down at his cock. “Or a prick-tease on a power trip. I’m betting it’s the former.”

Tahima backhanded him across the mouth. He hadn’t expected it and his head snapped to one side.

“Lie down on your back.”

“What?”

“You want to be
fucked
, don’t you?”

His face twisted. He couldn’t keep up. “No . . . I . . .”

She aimed the stun gun at him.

“Merda, keep your shirt on.” He tumbled onto his side, then rolled onto his back with a wince.

“Put your hands above your head.”

Rossini muttered something incomprehensible, but complied. Tahima grabbed a piton and the hammer from the backpack and pounded the piton into a crack in the rock. She added a karabiner and swiftly bound his cuffs to the piton with the rope. Then she took up the leg irons, moved around his naked body to his feet where she cuffed his ankles before pulling him to stretching point. Another piton and karabiner secured his feet tight.

“You’re getting way too good at this.” His voice had an edge to it. “I’m wondering what you’re hoping to achieve.”

“And I’m wondering why you’re cooperating.” Out of view, Tahima slipped off her panties and toed them aside. They were even damper. She was so wet, so turned on her juices dripped down her inner leg.

Rossini stared up at the sky. “Tahima, you pointed a stun gun at me you’re prepared to use. I see your need to control this situation and I’m not prepared to hurt you to get the upper hand. I understand you’re scared of me, and I’m trying really hard not to give you further reason to doubt me, but dammit, you’re making that difficult.”

She straddled his hips and dropped to her knees, clenching the head of his cock in her entrance. His eyes opened wide and she squeezed. His hips bucked up. “I’m protected and clean. You?”

He looked surprised. “Yes, I’m clean, but . . .”

She leaned forward and rested her hands on either side of his head. He quivered between her legs. “But?”

“You don’t need to do this.”

“Do you want me?”

His face contorted. “You know I do.”

“That’s your dick talking. What do
you
want?”

His body jolted, testing his restraints. “I don’t want you to service me. I . . .  I want to make love.”

“Make love? You don’t know me.” She shifted over his cock, her juices guiding him in. A kernel of pleasure pulsed as he touched her clit.

He groaned. “Is this what
you
want?” he asked, fighting his restraints. “Or is this some perverse punishment?”

“You can stop me whenever you want, Rossini.”

She pressed down. He slid inside her. He filled her so easily. Her mind centered on the waves of pleasure he was creating at her center.

“No . . .” he gasped. “I can’t. I’m beyond stopping you do anything.” His back arched.

Tahima withdrew from him, leaving him bereft of her warmth.

He strained to reach her. “Please . . .”

She slammed down on him so he stabbed the pleasure building deep within her. Then again.

His buttocks left the ground to pound her and as he filled her, she withdrew again. He moaned. For several seconds, she kept their only contact on the tip of his dancing cock.

Then she clenched her knees against his hips. “Prick-tease on a power trip you said.”

“Tahima . . .”

She slammed back down on him. She could feel her orgasm building. Her nipples hardened beneath the material rubbing them. She needed his lips on them. Teasing them. His teeth nipping and tasting . . . The thought nearly blasted her over the edge.

She rose off him, watching his face, letting her desire ebb before she climaxed too soon. His eyes were open, wet. He knew what she was doing. He was helpless to stop her.

“I could leave you like this,” she said.

“Don’t.”

“How many women have you teased this way?” She pressed down on him so the question wouldn’t distract him too much, then she eased away.

“
Fuck
, Tahima.”

She slid down his long shaft, letting his cock hit the point that would send her soaring if she wasn’t careful. “How many?”

“I don’t know . . . Three, maybe four.”

“Is this how you made them feel?” She began to pull away but he stayed with her, his torso launching into the air. “Totally controlled . . . utterly desperate.”

“Please, I can’t . . .”

She countered the pressure, on top, around him, squeezing him on all sides.

He came. She pushed harder, his seed spurting warm inside her. The head of his cock pierced the knot of pleasure deep at her core and she exploded. Her muscles contracted around him, forcing him to greater heights as pleasure whiplashed through her body. Her whole being condensed to a single point of sensation that quivered against the pulsating cock filling her. She savored the ebbing ecstasy. As he began to contract inside her, she slid off him.

His whole body wa
s quivering, straining his stretched muscles beyond endurance. She moved to his feet and released the leg iron chain from the karabiner, then did the same for his cuffed hands. He instantly curled onto his right side, gasping for breath, his cheek pressed against the warm rock, his eyes wild and lost.

“Stay with me,” he whispered.

Tahima was tempted. She wanted to snuggle inside his cuffed arms and drift off in a warm, fuzzy haze. Then she remembered who he was and knew she could not. Gian Rossini could destroy her in a way Stephen had not. She needed to finish this. Put space between them.

“Get dressed.”

He used his stomach muscles to pull himself up into a sitting position. His expression was a picture of polite confusion. He shook his cuffed hands at her.

Tahima sighed. “Do you need to relieve yourself?”

He smiled tightly. “Did that earlier.”

Thank God. She picked up the stun gun, his underwear, boots and pants, and then found the key chain. “Legs first. Lie back.”

She unlocked the leg irons and inspected the bruising around his ankles, pleased to see the skin was unbroken.

He lifted his hips for her as she dressed him. “A man could get used to this,” he said when her fingers brushed his balls. “I’m beginning to feel the attraction.”

She realized he was calling a truce. She eyed his smug face with amusement. “Having control is nice, too,” she admitted.

“This role reversal is a revelation.” His eyes crinkled, his anger gone like a passing storm.

Tahima didn’t imagine it was gone for good. “Actually, it’s exhausting being responsible for someone.”

“Well, it’s usually only for an hour or two. Not full on like this.”

“That’s true.”

Tahima locked the leg irons back over his pants, grabbed his cuffs and pulled him to his feet. He helped her slip his boots back on. The leather had cracked in the sun, but they were dry enough inside. She picked up his shirt and pointed him towards a tree with the stun gun. “Left arm first.”

She released his hand. “Lock the cuff around this branch.”

He huffed, but didn’t bother arguing. She held out his shirt so he could push his hand through the sleeve. When his hand popped through she caught it and inspected the chafed skin. “I’m going to put a bandage around that.”

He nodded, holding his wrist out for her as she wrapped the bandage around and tied it off. She checked his head and arm while she had the first aid out. Both wounds were healing nicely. She tried not to look at the red marks she’d inflicted with the belt.

Heat warmed her cheeks at the memory. Desire washed through her, but it wasn’t inflicting the punishment that had turned her on. It was his acceptance of it.

“I’ll do the other arm in a moment. I want to wash off in the cave.” She collected her clothing.

Rossini gestured to the cuffed branch. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The cave was cool. Having taken so long to recover from the swim, Tahima had no intention of taking another dip. Instead she splashed semen from her insides and inner thighs as best she could. She scraped off the water and patted herself dry with her T-shirt before dressing herself.

Rossini was waiting patiently, but he’d obviously been thinking. “Not behind my back, Tahima. If I was going to harm you I could have done it a long time ago. We’ll make quicker progress.”

She unlocked the cuff from the tree, stun gun against his ribs. “Fine. But one hint of trouble . . .”

“Warning duly noted.” He meekly replaced his wrist in the cuff and they repeated the whole process on the other hand.

Tahima did up his buttons very slowly, tucked his shirt into his pants, and then pressed the stun gun against his crotch. “Don’t make me regret this, Rossini.”