Yield (3 page)

“We weren’t done.”

The man took up a lot of space, overwhelming everything. It wasn’t just his size that did that. It was what clung to him. An aura of power and control that she noticed a lot of doms at the club had.

He pushed the door open and she closed her eyes to smell the scent of the breeze that came in. Salt seemed to cling to the air and aside from the party noise, there was nothing else. “Better?”

She nodded as she flicked the drum stick side to side between her fingers, wondering how he knew. Needing some distance from him and his ginormous bed, Kate stepped outside. Now the party could be heard. People on the balcony above them, music coming from open windows. He caught the drum stick and pried it from her fingers.

“You fidget a lot.”

She shrugged a shoulder even as her fingers sought out a knot on her bracelet. “Sorry.”

“You don’t at the club.”

Her gaze snapped to him as he leaned against the glass, his hands resting on the railing and his dark eyes on her. “How do you know?”

“Tell me about Edge, Katey.”

“
You
tell me about Edge.”

He stared at her, then caught her right wrist, turning his attention to her bracelet. It had been one of the first things she had made. Three thin strands of braided leather with five knots evenly spaced. There was no visible connection, the joint was hidden in one of the knots. It was starting to show stress from years of playing with the knots, rolling them back and forth.
 

Just when she thought he wouldn’t respond, he spoke. “It’s a place where I don’t have to be this.” He rolled his eyes briefly up at the roof of the balcony before he returned to studying the leather. His fingers caressed the inside of her wrist, making her heart thump a little faster while her skin grew warmer. “I don’t have to worry about someone tweeting they just had their ass beaten then fucked by Doyle Kole. It’s a place to relax with friends. A place to unwind by finding a willing body to beat and fuck. It’s a playground, it’s a den of iniquity. Tell me about the knots.” His thumb pressed on one, hard enough that it hurt. “Take it in, Kate.”

Her fingers flexed as the tangle of leather pressed beneath the wrist bone. He pulled her close even as he kept the pressure consistent while his fingers brushed over her skin.

His other hand fisted in her hair and he pulled her head back so she was looking up at him. “Take it fucking in. Breathe it in, hold, let it out then take it in again.” She was drowning in the dark stare, in the pain that radiated up her arm and down into her fingers. When he lifted his thumb, she felt her entire body quiver while heat spread down her spine. “Again,” he demanded and he made her breathe through it as he pressed onto a different knot.

When he let go, she staggered into him and his hand tightened on her hair so her neck arched, all so she maintained eye contact with him.

“The knots.”

“They’re comforting.” A dark eyebrow rose up as he waited for her to expand. “They’re consistent, always there. They…” She looked away, searching for the right word. He tugged hard enough to make her gasp as he made her look back at him. “They ground me. I like feeling them, the shape of the knot and the way it moves when I roll it on my skin, the way it looks. Knots take time to unravel. I like that sense of permanency.”

“Why five?”

She studied her wrist. “One isn’t enough and six is too many.”

High, shrieking laughter drifted down. The noise grated, snagging her attention. He used her hair as a handle so she was looking at him. “Tell me about Edge, Kate.”

She frowned up at him. Why was this so important to him? “Why do you keep asking?”

“I’m not asking. If you look away from me one more time, I will bare your ass and beat it, and not in a fun way.”

Her breath exploded from her. Her ass tightened in reflex because the look on his face said it would hurt and not in a fun way. She wanted to look away but she didn’t. Couldn’t. He found a different knot and she gave a soft cry as tingling pain slithered up her arm like lightening. She actually rose up on her toes. Her hand grabbed onto the waistband of his jeans, needing something to hold onto. A hot throb filled her sex as those black eyes watched. “Take. It. In.”

Oh, God! It was hard to focus as she grew wet.

“I don’t know what it is!”

“Yes, you do. Take it in, girl. Take it in.”

She gasped his name.

“There we go. Right there. Take it in. Hold it for me. The next one is going to make you want to come, but I want you to hold back for me.”

Her fingers tightened and she felt a trickle of wetness on her thigh, an aching throb that moved from her wrist to her clit. He let go and pressed on the next knot. She cried out, her knees buckling.
 

“Hold it and remember what happens if you close your eyes. Tell me about Edge.”

“It’s the one place I don’t feel scared.”

“Now. Come.”

Her entire body jerked when he let go of her arm and grabbed her ass, holding her up as heat and lightening and tiny darts of released pain raced through her. “Doyle, Sir,” she managed before there was nothing but his hard face watching her come. His fingers dug in as he held her on her toes as she shuddered, her orgasm making her vision blur.
 

His “Fuck” was eloquent and bang on.

****

Kate – 2002

There was nothing left. Kate stared blankly at the twisted remains of the only home she had ever known. The air smelled of acrid smoke that burned her nose and lungs. Gone. It was all gone. The piddly collection of canned food, her clothes, the pictures. Gone. It was all gone. Others in the trailer park watched the spectacle of the smoldering trailer while the firemen put forth energy to keep the fire from spreading.

Gone.

It was all gone.

Her legs vanished and she dropped down to the ground. She had thought her mom’s overdose was scary. This was worse. Far worse. Because she had nowhere to go. She had nothing now. The clothes she wore were the sum of her life.

The trailer wasn’t much, but it had been all that was keeping her alive. She hadn’t known what she was going to do when she ran out of food, but at least the trailer had been there.

Now it was gone.

Another plume of smoke stretched to the sky and she wondered if that was the remains of her food. Eventually everyone went back to their homes and the fire was finally put out. Not much remained of the aluminum siding. The stairs were gone and Kate could see the melted side of the neighboring trailer through her home. There was nothing.
 

Absolutely nothing was left.

“Hey kid, you should go home.”

She was home. That was the problem.

What did she do now? She didn’t know how it burned down. It’s not like there was electricity or anything. Probably someone had broken in to do whatever inside. The how didn’t really matter, because she was trying to figure out what to do.
 

They were looking at her. A grubby kid who had lost far too much weight in the past couple of weeks because she was careful with her dwindling food. Some strange kid sitting on the road, staring at the remains of a home. Mom was gone. The trailer was gone. The next thing to go was her. She’d disappear into nothing.
 

“Hey,” the same guy said again. “This is no place for a kid to be right now.”

She tried to stand but her legs had disappeared. Her food. Those precious cans of food. She had no money. No clothes. No food. No hiding place. No safe place.

What did she do now? Kate stared down at her legs, half surprised they were still there. She couldn’t feel them. She couldn’t feel the road beneath her or the cool air on her skin. She was disappearing because there was nothing now.
 

There was nobody.

Except a name.

Chapter 3

Doyle really wanted a drink. He sat on the only private patio in the entire penthouse, staring out the water and trying to figure out exactly when he had lost control. The party was still going strong. He looked at the door when Kate stepped out. Jesus. Could she look any younger? She wore one of his shirts and it dwarfed her.

Delicate, fragile girl. Her brown hair was wet from the bath he had started for her. She was tiny all over, from her height to her breasts to her toes. Those bare toes with their pale pink painted nails rubbed the back of her calf. Great legs.
 

His elbow braced on the arm of the chair; he studied her over his fist. She looked so much like a young Jace Jennings it was startling. She had the same jade green eyes, but they had a graveness that would never be in the man. The mouth that was famous on her father for his pouts and snarls was sensual on the daughter. When she came, all that hidden sensuality spilled free.

She was twisting and rolling one of the knots as she watched him.

“Stop fidgeting.”

She lowered her foot though she continued to absently play with her bracelet, like she wasn’t even aware she did it. He crooked a finger at her and she took a step closer, her eyes flicking about nervously. Snapping his fingers to catch her attention, he pointed at his eyes. “Tell me about Edge.”

Her shoulders rose and fell. “I did.”

Doyle found himself studying her. She blushed and looked away. “We’re discussing it again, only without the distractions. Sit down.” He watched her fingers roll a knot as she looked around his balcony, debating her options. There was a matching chair facing his and a padded bench against the railing. The bench was always out there, but he had fetched the chairs from inside. He hated having things hampering his view when he was here. Furniture got in the way.
 

He watched Kate weigh and measure. The bench was furthest away from him so he was curious as to her pick. She tucked her damp hair behind her ear as her gaze bounced from spot to spot. After taking a deep breath, she sat in the chair. She tucked her feet under her ass and adjusted the hem of his shirt over her knees. She frowned and looked around. “Why is it warm out here?”

“This is a twenty-million dollar penthouse, Katey; there’s going to be heated balconies.” He pointed up where heating panels reflected warmth down on them.

“Cool.”

He nodded. “Tell me what intrigues you at the club.”

Her gaze that had been on the roof bounced down to his so fast he swore he heard a soft click. “Ah…what?” Her cheeks went pink so he knew she had heard him. “I…what do you mean?”

“What makes the skin at the small of your back prickle? For me it’s the Saint Andrew’s Cross. A sub splayed out with their back against the cross. They’re vulnerable, all those sensitive bits are easy access. The way a sub flinches when a strike from a crop comes close to a delicate area.” He watched her face. Her pupils dilated and her lips parted as if she saw it. “If it’s a male, I enjoy the way a flogger will dance over his cock, teasing and hurting. A female with her nipples clamped and swollen, her body shuddering if a whisper of air brushes over her sensitive nipples. Arms immobile, legs spread, cunt weeping with need, ass filled with a plug so every time she jerks back her ass hits the wood and the dildo rubs within, making her think of my cock inside her.”
 

Her fingers were still, no fidgeting with her knots now. Against the soft cotton, her nipples were hard while her breasts rose and fell with every shaky breath she took. “The realization that at any moment I can free her ankles and plunge my cock into her while she’s still tied to the cross, body covered in red marks, her head lost in the ether of pleasure and pain as she lets me inside her. Deep inside. Not just her cunt, but into her soul. That cross. Fucking beautiful piece of cruelty. Designed to immobilize, to hold a sub open to not just the pain but her pleasure. Are you wet?” Her lashes fluttered and she gave a jerky nod. “Use your words, Katey.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Fuck. His cock throbbed at those two little words slipping from her. “Beautiful. Now what makes the skin at the small of your back prickle when you sit on the railing and watch? As you tell me, I want your fingers tucked between those pretty thighs. No clit, no penetration, no coming.”

He watched her fingers tremble as they disappeared under his shirt. No hesitation. Now that was sexy. He could see it on her face that she was already there, deep in her head where there was only submission. A shiver moved through her and she arched as she encountered her pussy. Her breathing shattered as she sank into the chair, the movement of her fingers fluttering the shirt. Fucking beautiful.
 

Her lips parted and her toes curled. “Tell me.”

“Watching a dom set the scene.” Her voice was soft and shaky. “The way he touches her as he puts her into position. The way she reacts. Her body almost relaxing beneath his hands even if he ties her up or is using cuffs. The ritual of how he draws the toys out.” Her legs shifted as she caressed herself, her back gently arching.

“No clit.”

“Yes, Sir. I know, Sir.”

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he watched her sink deeper. Her eyes were closed, her lashes on her cheeks quivering with her touch. Her legs relaxed, parting a little for better access and she bowed, her body stilling, frozen in that moment where pleasure pumped through her body because she found a sweet spot.
 

“Hold it in.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Fucking sweetest words. She resumed stroking herself, her entire body undulating now because she was deep in it now.

“Fingers caressing along a crop, hands bending a cane, wrists flicking a cat. Some go right into it, others will touch their sub. A hand along a back, a pinch beneath the ass, a teasing whisper in their ear about how much this was going to hurt. Watching them become one before that first hit, the first spark of pain. Where he’s the dom, she’s the sub, and both know that they belong.” Her words became choppy, her hips jerking, her body straining. “That moment before, Sir.”

“Stop. Show me your fingers.” Her hand was shaking as she held it up, her fingers glistening with the cream spilling from her. “Now I want to know what makes you go home and fuck yourself until you’re screaming into your pillow, your body tense as you come over the fingers deep in your cunt. Fingers back on that quivering pussy and this time you’re going to ask me if you can push your fingers into your cunt.”