Down on Her Knees

CHAPTER Nine


“Toy boat.”

The words were out before she could even think. Watching him prowl toward her looking lethal—sexy as hell, but lethal nonetheless—with the leather strips of the flogger slapping softly against his hand? The panic had taken over.

Rafe stopped mid-stride and nodded curtly. “Roger that.”

The shadow of regret passing over his face made Courtney’s stomach clench. She wasn’t afraid he would truly hurt her. Not really, it was just a knee-jerk reaction to being helpless and all the possibilities that had terrified her. She opened her mouth to take it back, tell him she’d changed her mind, but he was already in motion again, setting the flogger back into the case.

He tugged on his boxers and faced her again, a warm, patient smile on his face. “I’m going to come over there and untie you now, okay?” He waited for permission before approaching her, and her stomach went flippy again.

So strange how one second, he was in total control, dictating their every action, and now with the utterance of two silly words, he wouldn’t even touch her without her explicit agreement.

While the knowledge was incredibly empowering, she was coming to the stunning realization that she liked things better before. When he’d had the reins and she had trusted him enough to manage them properly. Now she felt unsure, wishing she could fix it but not knowing how.

“You okay?” His mouth was close to her ear as his fingers worked at the knots and his warm breath sent a shiver through her.

“Yes,” she said, trying to cover the quiver in her voice so he wouldn’t know she was on the brink of tears. This was it. He was going to untie her, and she was going to get dressed and then they would leave separately and this would all be nothing but a memory. When the tension binding her hands together released and the scrap of cloth fell away, she’d never felt less free. This time, there was no stopping the tears.

“What’s the matter?” Rafe asked, pulling the sheet up to cover her before taking her wrists gently in his hands. “Are you hurt?” The horror on his face only made her cry more.

“N-no.” She hiccuped and pulled her hands away so she could use them to cover her miserable face. “I just w-wish I didn’t say toy boat,” she admitted.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged helplessly. “I don’t even know why I said it. Nerves, I guess. The fear of the unknown. I hate that because I like to think I’m tougher than that.”

“I think you’re pretty tough, but I do agree that it’s scary to try something you’ve never tried before, especially when you also feel helpless,” he said softly. “But do you think maybe another part of the reason was that you wanted to make sure it would work?” He motioned for her to move over and then sat down on the bed next to her.

She swiped the tears away and considered his words. Was that it? Had she subconsciously needed to test the system? To test him so she could be sure he was worthy of her trust?

If so, that was crappy of her, especially since he hadn’t done anything to make her distrust him so far. “I’m sorry. As you know, I had some…issues in the past with a guy.” She stopped short and let out a slow breath, debating how much she wanted to share.

Rafe laid a gentle hand on her hip and squeezed. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Oddly enough, after a few seconds of soul searching, she realized that wasn’t the case at all. “I want to. It’s just hard because it’s embarrassing. I was so dumb and naive.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Courtney. We all make mistakes.”

“His name was Wes,” she began slowly. “He was an assistant professor in the anatomy department of the grad school I went to. I crushed on him almost immediately, but he had a girlfriend and I was too busy with school to get seriously involved with a guy in any case. We met again at an alumni dinner a year after I graduated, and we clicked.”

The memory was a weird one, because she could still see the Wes she thought she knew through those rose-colored glasses, but hot on its heels was the image of real Wes. Controlling Wes. Sternly disapproving Wes.

She wriggled until she was seated, using the headboard as a back support, before she continued. “Anyway, I won’t bore you with the details but he was everything I could have wanted. Everything I’d ever dreamed of in a guy, until we moved in together. It was like night and day—”

“Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” he finished softly.

“Right. He started picking my friends and, after a while, I had none left. As archaic as it sounds, I had a curfew.” She blew a lock of hair from her face and shook her head, trying her damnedest to fight the waves of humiliation rolling over her. “A grown woman. With a curfew. It was never spoken out loud, so it didn’t seem so bad, but we both knew if I wasn’t home by nine p.m. there would be hell to pay.”

“Did he hit you?”

The cold, contained fury in Rafe’s voice almost made her feel sorry for the criminals he dealt with on a day-to-day basis. He could be terrifying. But not with her.

“No,” she assured him. The tension that had gripped his body relented some as he settled in closer to her, his hip a comforting weight against her bent knee. “I think that’s the part that makes me feel the stupidest. Maybe if he hit me, I’d have a better excuse for staying so long.”

“Sometimes emotional scars are worse than physical ones. I think you should focus on the strength it took to walk away. That’s not easy to do when you have a history with someone, and you’ve invested your life and time into a person. A lot of people never leave.”

She digested that and held it close, letting his kind words wrap around her like a blanket. “If things hadn’t escalated, who knows how long I would’ve stayed? But he crossed the line. I’d been working at a hospital for about a year and there was a doctor there who I became friendly with. He was a great guy, married with two sweet kids. He sent me a totally innocuous joke e-mail one day and Wes had taken to checking my accounts. He actually came into the hospital and created a huge scene, ranting at the guy in front of staff and patients.”

Her hands shook at the memory, but Rafe’s steady grip on her hip calmed her enough that she was able to continue.

“It was quite literally the last straw. I packed my stuff and was gone the next day but it obliterated my career at the hospital. Rumors started. It caused a rift between my doctor friend and his wife that I later found out took months to repair. Eventually, I had to quit. I decided I needed a fresh start, and you know the rest.”

He nodded and worked up a little smile. “You moved to Rhode Island and took our tiny state by storm.”

“I don’t know about that,” she said with a laugh. Maybe talking about her past hadn’t absolved her of her part in what had taken place, but she felt a hundred pounds lighter having shared it with Rafe.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you for getting out.”

“Thanks.”

The silence that followed was the most uncomfortable she’d ever experienced, but she couldn’t bring herself to break it. The elephant was still very much in the room and she didn’t know how to approach it. Rafe shifted, moving to stand, and her heart took a nosedive.

“Don’t go.”

She might not know exactly how this was all going to turn out, but the thought of letting him walk away was more than she could bear.

“I want a mulligan.”

…

Rafe pushed himself to his feet, trying to get a handle on his clamoring pulse and the raging need to climb back into bed with Courtney and forget those two words.


Toy boat.

So telling that she’d chosen them. Toy. Something to play with. A fun distraction. Boat. A getaway. A vehicle to transport a person out into the unknown. Toy boat. Her get-out-of-subbing-free card, and she’d played it. Now, as a dom, it was his job to accept it with grace and end the scene, which he had.

Only, f*ck, now she wanted a mulligan. Would he be taking advantage if he allowed it? Technically, the scene had ended and beginning again would be a new experience for them both. Technically.

He blew out a sigh and stared down at her, regret bitter on his tongue. She looked so hopeful, so vulnerable, he hated the thought of crushing that. He’d been encouraging her to be open to him, and now that she’d taken his words to heart, he was about to throw them back at her.

Anyone who thought it was easy being on top was dead wrong. There was a lot of responsibility, and he was determined not to f*ck it up.

“Please, Rafe. I…want this. I want you. And I want to try.”

Her wide eyes drifted over to the case that sat on the table across the room and his gut tightened. He fought the urge to relent instantly. To forget everything else and pick up right where they’d left off.

“I know you regret using your out, but I need to know that you won’t be afraid to use it again if this is too much for you. I was a little bummed for a second this time, but only because I was looking forward to being with you longer. Safe-ing out doesn’t mean that I will think less of you or be disappointed in you. All it means is that today, right now, you aren’t ready for whatever it was we were doing. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

It was important that she did. It was everything.

She nodded but he pushed harder, needing the words.

“I need you to trust me enough to tell me the truth. I need to trust you enough to know that you will. And you need to be sure right now.”

The fact that it took her almost a full minute should’ve made him nervous, but it had the exact opposite effect. It gave him the most profound sense of appreciation for Courtney and her nature. Her face was a mask of contemplation and when she finally nodded—one time—and spoke, her voice rang with total conviction.

“I’m sure.”

He closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to stay calm even as every nerve in his body went on high alert. More time with Courtney and it wouldn’t cost him a scene. He was jazzed as f*ck about it, but shut those thoughts down fast. He was a guy fresh off a smoking-hot sexual encounter. It was natural to feel closer to her than he had before, at least temporarily. It had nothing to do with their impromptu date or their heart-to-heart and everything to do with chemistry. Once the dopamine had faded, and he was home in his own bed, everything would go back to the way it was before.

She leaned forward then and kissed his jaw, letting the sheet fall away until her breast nudged his biceps, and his thoughts disintegrated into dust.

“I’m ready to accept my punishment, Mr. Welter,” she murmured.

His cock stiffened at her words and he fought every instinct, demanding that he press her back against the bed, spread her legs wide, and f*ck her senseless. It would be so good.

But not as good as it would be if he stuck to the scene. He could take them both to the edge of sanity if he maintained his cool here.

He stood and made his way across the room in purposeful strides. “Present to me on all fours, Ms. Mack.” He took the flogger from the case and turned to face her again. She stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Like”—she rolled onto her stomach and lifted herself onto her palms and knees, sending him a questioning glace over her shoulder—“this?”

He swallowed hard at the sight of her bare ass, plump, round, and ready. “No.” He kept his voice low. Deliberate, in spite of the riot going on inside him. “Lean forward onto your elbows, forehead against the mattress.”

She dropped the top half of her body low as he’d asked and just when he thought the picture couldn’t get prettier, it did. Her bowed back was elegant, the dip of her spine a dream. His hands ached to touch her, but he stayed where he was, sucking in long, steadying breaths.

“I want you to close your eyes now.”

“Okay, they’re closed.”

Her voice was trembling and he resisted the urge to make sure it was from excitement and not fear. He’d know soon enough, and like he’d told her. As much as she had to trust him to respect her boundaries, he had to trust her to utter her safe word if she needed to.

He crossed the room, committing the stunning sight to memory before rounding to the side of the bed, lining up next to her knees.

“Do you know what happens to thieves, Ms. Mack?” he asked softly.

She shook her head against the mattress but didn’t respond verbally. Apparently Ms. Mack wasn’t quite as ballsy as she’d been earlier.

“Normally they go to prison, don’t they? So this is pretty nice of me, wouldn’t you say?”

She nodded and made a little squeaking sound he took as a yes.

“In light of my kindness, after each lash, I’d like you to thank me. Is that understood?” A long pause this time, and he knew she was fighting her own ornery nature that demanded she argue. He almost cracked a smile, imagining the names she was probably calling him in her head, but then she nodded and suddenly shit wasn’t funny anymore.

He kept his tone clipped. “I need the words, Ms. Mack. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

The buzzing in his ears increased tenfold and he looked down to see that his hands were shaking with need.

Well, f*ck.

…

It was so quiet, she wondered if he’d even heard her. Not willing to give him any excuse to call it off after her safe-word slipup, she swallowed hard and repeated herself, more loudly this time.

“Y-yes.” God, her legs were trembling, her pulse was pounding, and she was so wet, she was almost embarrassed by it.

Almost.

“Excellent. And when we’re done, if you’re very good, I’ll let you ride my cock.”

His bold words and the raw heat of his tone sent a thrill skittering through her before settling between her hips. She wondered briefly if anyone had ever died from need.

He moved in closer and laid a warm hand on her lower back. “Ready?”

She nodded, stiffening, bracing herself for the first blow, but it never came.

“I need you to take a deep breath and relax. Let your muscles go loose. Try to embrace the pain rather than fight it, all right?”

She willed her body to go lax, diverting her attention toward scrunching up her face instead. The clock in the room was digital, but she swore she could hear the seconds tick by interminably as she waited for the sting of the flogger.

Instead, the strong, gentle hand on her back dipped lower to stroke the curve of her ass, kneading and rubbing. Fingertips drifted close to the crevice there and then lower to where all the heat and moisture in her body had seemed to pool. She gasped and pushed back against him, urging those fingers to dip lower, to slide—

Smack!

Courtney stiffened, the pain of the leather straps streaking over her ass cheek. Before she could pull away, that hand was in motion again, massaging the offending spot. It still stung, heck, his firm touch even intensified it, but the sensation went from white-hot pain to molten pleasure.

She pulsed back against him, again urging him to use his fingers to take her over the edge. God knew it wouldn’t take much. Right when she found herself wondering if anyone had ever come from having their ass rubbed, suddenly, he pulled his hand away.

“Where’s my thank you, Ms. Mack?”

His voice was low and steady, but thick with need, and she reveled in the fact that he was as affected as she was. It made it so much easier to let the last of her inhibitions go. To hand him the keys and let him drive them both to the edge of sanity.

“Thank you, Mr. Welter.”

Now please, again, she wanted to beg, but knew it would get her nowhere. She stayed perfectly still and waited, and soon her patience was rewarded.

The second blow was harder than the first but not in the same spot. She almost cried out but held back, biting her lip, waiting for the hot sting to magically morph into something else. Sure enough, even as her ass throbbed, a rush of heat pooled between her slightly spread legs.

“I can see how wet you are from here.” This time, there was nothing calm about him. His voice was all grit and lust. She couldn’t resist the urge to shake her bottom, lean deeper into her stance to lure him in, draw him closer, will him to touch her there.

“But you didn’t thank me again, Ms. Mack,” he growled.

This time, no touching before the next blow, and it was a doozy. She couldn’t hold back her cry as the leather came down on her sensitive flesh.

“Thank you,” she murmured, when the discomfort subsided enough that she could catch her breath.

“Good.”

She went warm with his praise.

Smack.

She tried to separate the ache from the ecstasy as the blows rained, sometimes in slow succession as he massaged her in between, sometimes two in a row. Flames licked her from head to toe and she pressed her upper body against the mattress, her hard nipples aching for contact.

“Move toward the foot of the bed.”

She didn’t hesitate, skittering a few feet down until her toes touched the edge of the mattress. He rounded the bed, moving to stand directly behind her.


Smack.

She tried not to move as, upon her murmured thanks, the flogger dropped to the floor and he squeezed her stinging cheeks hard in both hands.

“Mmpmh,” she groaned, wanting to pull away and push closer at the same time.

“You’re amazing. Ass so beautiful, with my marks on you, pink and hot, your p-ssy swollen and wet and waiting for me.” He squeezed again, kneading her heated flesh, sending another bolt of pleasure/pain coursing through her. “You took your punishment so well,” he said, climbing onto the bed next to her and leading her wrist toward him. “Take my cock out.”

She was shaking so badly she wondered if she could manage the job, but when she saw the broad head of him thrusting out the top of his underwear, she was so desperate to have him inside her, nothing could have stopped her.

She jerked the boxers down, not even bothering to take them all the way off, and threw a knee over his hips to straddle him. Settling lower, she took his thick length in her hand and squeezed, loving the hiss it elicited from him.

“F*ck me,” he demanded.

She tore her gaze away from his cock and met his gaze. His eyes were like glittering chunks of onyx, his jaw so tense, he looked to be in pain. She slid down, intent on taking it slow, but he would have none of it. The second their bodies touched, he gripped her hips and flexed, pressing his hard length deep.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. She tried to pull away. It was too intense, too much, but he was there, murmuring soft words of encouragement as he palmed her ass and pressed firmly again, sliding her farther onto his rigid cock.

“That’s my girl. There it is. Take it.”

She shook from the effort of remaining still, desperate for the release that was just around the corner but not wanting this delicious torture to end.

“They aren’t numbered, you know,” he murmured, as if reading her mind. He swirled his hips and ground against her, anchoring her against him with both hands on her ass. The sweet tingle and throb came back with a vengeance and the combination of that along with him buried deep was too much.

She rose and slammed back down, almost to the point of pain, and her body stretched to accommodate him. Each nerve ending lit up and she exploded over his hard cock. She couldn’t move, she was so caught up in the haze of pleasure crashing over her, but he was there, cupping her hips, using them to work her over him again and again, taking the flames higher and higher.

“Jesus, oh my God!”

Her scream mingled with his shout as he convulsed beneath her, pinning her to him. His face was a mask of ecstasy as his cock jerked wildly inside her even as her own orgasm seemed to stretch on and on.

They stayed like that for a long minute, until their breathing slowed and their hearts stopped clamoring. She’d just come to the realization that she was going to have to climb off him and step away from the haven of his body, when he hauled her forward to sprawl on top of him, and laughed softly into her hair.

“Well done, Ms. Mack.”

His tone was playful, but tinged with something else. Satisfaction. Dare she hope, happiness? A warm sense of pride warmed her from the inside out as he slid a hand up her back to cover her nape before toying with her hair.

If she made him feel even half as good as he made her feel, then she’d done something right. She was going to enjoy every second of this. Seize the moment. Soak it all in. She refused to think about what tomorrow would bring. Refused to consider what things would be like after their last scene.

And she wasn’t even going to contemplate how in the world she was ever going to go back to real life after the fantasy that was Rafe Davenport.