One Cut Deeper Page 5

  “No. We’ll probably never know.” Each word was short and hard, but his anger made me feel safe. It told me he’d always protect me, no matter what. I leaned against his knee, taking comfort. “It could have been a wild animal, a burglar hoping to walk off with some Christmas stash, or someone who came after me because of my job. Anyone who knows me in real life would know that Sheba would eat him for lunch.”

  “Or it could have been Santa Claus trying to make an early delivery.”

  He studied my face. “Have I lost you already, Ranay?”

  My eyes flared wide with surprise. “Lost me? No. Why would you think that?”

  “You have every reason to doubt me. I was deliberately secretive. I made it a game instead of simply telling you where I was going. I thought...” He raked a hand through his hair, roughing up his curls until it looked like he’d slept for days, instead of skipping bed altogether. “I thought a game would make it lighter, easier for you to deal with our developing relationship. I never expected anything would scare you last night. I started thinking about everything I’d already asked you to do—to trust me enough to come out to my rural house and watch my dog when you knew nothing about me beyond Wentworth’s clinic. Add to that my predilection for dominance and control, your own past, and I realized I was a complete and utter moron. A game wasn’t what you needed. I hate that I gave you a legitimate reason to doubt me on the very first night.”

  “I don’t doubt you.”

  His eyes narrowed, his mouth tight and hard, though he didn’t increase his grip on my hand. “I could hear the fear in your voice, Ranay. You weren’t thinking about the promise you made to me, because you were too busy worrying about what kind of creep had lured you out into the backwoods to commit some horrible crime.”

  I dropped my gaze and deliberately bit my lip. “I don’t mind being lured into the backwoods by you. Especially if you tie me up.”

  He tugged me closer. “Is that right?”

  “I was pretty worried about what kind of man you are. At first. The security freaked me out, yeah. The call from a thousand miles away before I even knew what was going on was over-the-top freaky. I might have tried to leave if I wasn’t afraid of setting the alarms off. But you forget that you told me to snoop. I’m a good snooper.”

  His lips curled and he pulled me onto his lap. “I don’t see any toys lying around, so I figured you hadn’t snooped at all.”

  “I was too busy looking for evidence of your nefarious dealings in the middle of the night.”

  “And what did you find?” His voice deepened. It set my heart to pounding with hope, need, joy—too many emotions to count. “Am I a spy? A drug dealer? A gangster? A serial killer?”

  It sounded ridiculous now. In the middle of the night, after having a few years scared off my life, any of those could have been a possibility. “There wasn’t a lot to betray you in here but I found the proof I needed.” I leaned closer, hovering over his mouth without touching him. I didn’t have permission yet. “You’re a very dangerous man, Mr. MacNiall.”

  He frowned, deepening the lines on his forehead in a fierce scowl. “What did I tell you about my name?”

  I grinned at him and batted my eyes. “Maybe you should punish me.”

  He wrapped his arms around me and hugged me close, so I didn’t feel any disappointment at all that he didn’t take me up on my hint. “I thought we were going to have an unforgettable first Christmas together, but I was afraid I’d already messed up so badly that you’d be gone before I could get home.”

  “You’re probably too tired to let me keep my promise.”

  He snorted. “No man’s ever too tired for that, kitten.” His endearment twisted my heart into knots. Then he slipped his hand under my chin and tipped my face up to his. “Say it.”

  I knew what he wanted most of all. “Charlie.”

  Eyes blazing, he leaned down, tightening his grip on my chin so his fingers dug into my skin. My body went pliant, soft and wet and ready for him. “And?”

  “I’m yours.”

  “Are you sure?” He studied my face as though he needed to memorize every line, shadow and hollow. “There can’t be any doubt in your mind, Ranay. No hesitation. When I take you, I want everything.”

  I didn’t ask what he wanted. I wanted to give it to him without question. “Yes, please.”

  “What are your hard limits?”

  “I don’t have any.” He arched a brow, so I rushed to clarify. “At least not that I’ve ever found.”

  I’d lived as a full-time slave for a year and had a breakdown when I had to leave. Did that sound like someone who could set effective limits to protect herself?

  One step toward him and I would fall. Hard. People said they fell in love all the time, head over heels, like it was wonderful. Sunshine and bunnies and floaty hearts weren’t in my repertoire. When I fell, I crashed like a flaming meteor that wiped out an entire planet.

  “Well, we’re going to start slowly. You have limits, whether you think so or not. And if you don’t...” He narrowed his eyes slightly but the full force of his determination rocked me as he set me on my feet. “Then I’ll help you develop and enforce them. You need to learn to protect yourself, especially from men like me.”

  I didn’t need slow and careful. I wanted hard, agonizing demands that wrung me out and stripped me bare. I didn’t want to have choices—I wanted him to take all of my choices away. Owned, heart and soul, body and mind. That’s what I’d been looking for with each disastrous relationship. I knew he was dominant, but could he be hard and fierce enough to satisfy that need for me to feel enslaved? I didn’t want to be broken and weak again.

  But I needed to be owned.

  While I was distracted, he stood and moved away. I’d been so close to my reward but I’d missed my chance. That loss drove me to my knees.

  “I’m too much, too.” He strode to the walk-in closet and strained to reach the top shelf. “There’s a reason we need to go slow, Ranay. I can be too controlling, too demanding and too vicious when it comes to punishment.”

  I trembled with the need to feel some of that excess.

  Finally, he lowered a small box from the top shelf. It dawned on me that he really had stashed his toys up high in that closet. From the thin layer of dust on top, he hadn’t played in quite some time. How could such a sexy, kind man be single? I couldn’t imagine him being so dominant that he couldn’t find a sub willing to play. Setting the box on the nightstand beside the bed, he winked at me. “Take a look and see if there’s anything in there that you care to play with. Most of it’s never been used. After my last relationship, I cleaned out everything and started new.”

  I didn’t look at the box. I’d rather have the queasy anticipation as he pulled out some new implement of torture and made me guess where he was going to use it first. “It went badly?”

  He returned to the closet. “Understatement of the year. That’s why I took my time approaching you. I had to be sure, and I didn’t want to make another mistake.”

  “So it’s been a long time for you?”

  “I haven’t done a scene in at least three years.”

  He returned with a box wrapped in Christmas paper that immediately sent a surge of panic through me. I hated the thought that he’d gotten something for me and I had nothing to offer him. It’s my job to serve, to anticipate his every desire before he can voice it. How can I possibly accept a present from him when I have nothing to offer him in exchange?

  “Relax, kitten. I purchased it a few months ago, but I only wrapped it when you agreed to help me out with Sheba. That gave me the opening I needed.”

  I stayed on my knees beside his bed, my fingers clumsy as I unwrapped the box and opened it. Inside lay a thick leather collar and matching shackles.

  I went numb with awe. I’d pictured him giving me something delicate and pretty, but this leather was thick, heavy and durable. Chunky. Unforgiving. The band was at least two inches thick with heavy forged
iron buckles and a large D-ring on the front. This wasn’t fluffy, pretty bondage wear, but the real thing. I’d feel the thickness and weight of the leather band on my throat. There’d be no denying my helplessness. His control.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  I forced my head to tip back, exposing my throat. His eyes flared. I could only imagine the look on my face, but given the buzzing in my mind and the ache in my breasts, I figured he could read the signs all too easily.

  “Good. Remove your clothes.”

  He said it pleasantly, but I hastened to obey. I dropped the box on the bed to free my hands. Now I was thankful for the simple tank and pants that slipped off without buttons or ties to slow me down. I tried to keep my eyes down and demure, but my attention kept drifting to the collar.

  I should have kept my mind on the master behind me.

  His big hands came down on my shoulders in a firm squeeze. “Put your hands behind your back.”

  Of course it wasn’t any dominant’s way to reward a submissive right off the bat. He picked up the shackles and buckled one onto my left wrist. It was thick, cold leather and he buckled it tightly.

  So tight.

  My breathing came faster. I wanted that thick band on my throat so I could feel it compressing my windpipe every time I took a breath.

  He buckled the other wrist and then hooked them together in the small of my back.

  “Kneel on the bed.”

  It seemed like an easy order, but with my hands out of commission, climbing onto the mattress was challenging. It was taller than mine at home. Plus the zipper of his pants made me hurry. I wanted to see the master in all his glory. I scrambled up without face-planting but it wasn’t my most graceful move.

  I worked my way around so I could see him. His pants hung open enough to reveal the dark cotton of his briefs and the bulge hidden beneath. He tugged the black T-shirt over his head. He was as lean as I’d suspected, with chiseled muscle that made my mouth water. More chest hair than my previous boyfriends but not so much that I thought of a burly backwoodsman. Both his left shoulder and pec bore ink. From the eagle, flag and skulls, I guessed some kind of hardcore military background, but I couldn’t concentrate on the design.

  A silver ring hung from his left nipple.

  I could almost feel that metal between my teeth.

  His arms were loose at his sides, his shoulders down and relaxed. Nothing screamed domination and control in his stance.

  Until I dragged my gaze up his body to his eyes.

  Always his eyes, raging and intense, at odds with his gentle voice and manner. It was why I’d worked so hard at never seeing him, or at least never meeting his gaze fully. Once he’d seen what I really was, I knew I’d never be able to escape. He needed no cuffs or chains or collars to bind me to him. All he needed was that dark, all-consuming need that swallowed me whole and left me crying for more. It took all my concentration to force out one word. “Master.”

  Now it was his turn to examine his slave. With my arms cuffed behind me, my breasts were already lifted and presented to him like a prize, but I arched my back more, offering myself to him. I inched my knees apart as wide as I could, baring myself to him.

  I could almost feel heat flickering over my body. My skin puckered, goose bumps racing up and down my flesh.

  Finally, he moved closer, his big hands casually shifting the layers of cotton that hid his cock. I wanted to see it, taste it. I wanted it in me, claiming me as his. I wanted him to use my body for his pleasure until I couldn’t hold any more of him. I wanted his sweat on my body, his scent thick and heavy in my nose, my face crushed into his pillow, the one I’d cradled to my chest last night.

  “What’s your safeword?”

  I blinked, unable to think of a word that he’d believe.

  “I can see I’m never going to have a problem with you lying to me.” He let out a rueful laugh, shaking his head. “You don’t have a safeword? Never?”

  I shook my head, afraid I’d let him down again. “I don’t stop. I don’t hit bottom.”

  “You go all the way.” His eyes widened. “I knew it, but damn, Ranay. What are you going to do to me? You’ve got to be able to stop me.”

  “Why would I want to do that?” I didn’t want to stop him. That was the whole point of being owned.

  He came to stand before me, but I couldn’t hold his gaze. Not with his pants sagging open, the purplish head of his cock peeking out of the top of the waistband of his briefs. He fisted his hand in my hair and forced me to look back up at his face. “This isn’t about what you want, Ranay. This is about what I want. I want you to stop me. I want you to have a limit that you don’t allow me to cross. I need to be able to trust you in this or we can’t be together. I’m too dangerous otherwise. I need you to be able to stop me.”

  Desperate tears burned my eyes. I wanted him so badly I could almost feel the strain in my jaws as he surged into my mouth. The thought of him zipping up, releasing my hands and sending me home made me want to wail at the top of my lungs.

  But worse was the idea that I’d failed him somehow. He wants something I can’t give, though I’d die to give him everything I have.

  “Give me a limit, Ranay. I need to know what’s too far for you.”

  I tried to think of something, anything. He could tie me up, gag me, whip me, torture me any way he wanted. I’d love it.

  He shook my head a little, tightening his fingers to emphasize the command.

  Finally, I squeezed my eyes shut and blurted out the only thing I could think of. “Don’t make me run!”

  His fingers convulsed in my hair. “What?”

  “I don’t like to run,” I whispered, my voice shaking. I felt like a complete idiot, but it was the only thing I could think of with him so close and demanding. “I’ll do anything you order, Master, but please don’t make me go running with you.”

  He made a soft sound of what was surely disappointment. If I wasn’t already on my knees, I would have dropped to put my face on the floor. Shaking, I twisted my icy fingers together in the small of my back. I hated to let him down. Hated. If he was angry...

  “Look at me.” The hard, unforgiving tone of his voice made me involuntarily squeeze my eyes shut even more. “Look at me!”

  My eyes flew open and my breath caught in my throat.

  His eyes danced and he cupped my chin. “I suppose I can continue to take my daily run alone. Is that all?”

  He made me look at him in all my misery, all my failing. And damn all the brokenness inside me, but that’s exactly what I wanted him to do. I nodded. “I’ll run if you make me. Though I might curse you with every single step.”

  “No, you’ve given me a limit. I must respect it. So, I expect you to respect the safeword I give you. Agreed?”

  I nodded again, though I couldn’t imagine how he’d ever make me need to use it.

  “Red,” he whispered. “We’ll work on you being able to tell it to me and mean it.”

  I started crying. I couldn’t help it. I was too relieved he was going to give me a chance, even though I knew I’d fail miserably.

  I don’t cry prettily. I choked and wailed and sobbed like a baby, struggling against his grip to get my mouth on him any way I could.

  He relented enough to let me get my wet face on his stomach. “Shh. I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go.”

  Not yet. I shook against him, gasping between racking sobs. Not until he sees it’s hopeless. I’m hopeless. I have to get a taste of him before he gives up on me! “Please!”

  I was afraid he had no idea what I needed more than anything, more than breathing. How could he possibly want me like this? A crying, neurotic mess of a submissive, unable to follow the most basic rules of play? He’s too nice, too kind, too—

  He jerked my head lower, that big hand an unforgiving weight on my neck, his other fingers punishing my jaw, his thumb digging into the side of my face. To ensure my mouth was open. Wide open. Because he pushed
against my lips, forcing his cock into my mouth. I completely sagged into his hands, trying to unhinge my jaw so I could swallow him down as far as he cared to go. He wasn’t hesitant, but jammed himself deep, fucking the back of my throat so I couldn’t breathe against the force of him.

  And I shuddered and came so hard I was afraid I’d accidentally maim him.

  Even then, he didn’t pull out or back away. He held my head in both hands, holding me up until I found my way back inside my body. My shoulders ached with strain, my hands still pinned behind me. I couldn’t hold on to him for balance. My ass was high in the air, my head low, with nothing but his hands to hold me up.

  I suddenly realized he’d done all this on purpose. He could have let me blow him on my knees beside his bed. It sure would have been a lot more comfortable. Instead, he’d put me in an uncomfortable, unnatural position where he had to help me to give me what I wanted. If I hadn’t cried all my tears out earlier and already come, I probably would have started crying again. Hope unfurled deep inside where I hadn’t dared hope ever again.

  Maybe, just maybe, I can fall without falling apart.

  Because he’ll catch me.

  I wanted it to last forever, the force of his big hands on my head, the feel of him hammering deep into my throat, but all too quickly I tasted the hot flood of his release. He didn’t make a sound as he came. Dominant or not, it’d been a long time for him too. Breathing hard, he hauled me up into his arms and kicked off his pants. I hoped for the bed, but in all honesty, I didn’t mind where we went, as long as he let me keep touching him. I was starved, so needy for contact. But it was more than human touch I wanted. It was his energy as a dominant, that self-assurance rolling off him in waves that called to me.

  I was an addict and he’d just given me my first hit in years.

  I wanted more.

  As soon as he released my hands, I smoothed my palms over him. It wasn’t sexual. I wanted to touch. To taste. To lick every dark line inked into his chest. To memorize the lines of muscle and sinew, to revel in the power corded beneath his skin, so I could appreciate all that lean strength if he unleashed it on me again. He didn’t say anything as he carried me to the shower, but stood under the hot spray of water and let me wash him with my body. He touched me too, running those big palms down my back and flanks to hold me close, but I sensed it was the same with him. He didn’t want to arouse me—it was more to assure us both that he was still there. Still connected.