There was the game-ending blow. It’d been ages since he’d felt such a wash of shame. Since he’d felt like an outcast. And then he topped off those failings with the fear that no decent woman—like Ainsley—would ever love him because of his tendencies. Hidden fears that smacked him in the face today from his cousin’s accusations.
Ben remained in the room a long time, emotions warring. He fingered the beautifully made whip. Device of torture? Instrument of pleasure? His supposed expertise gnawed at him. He’d honed his skills on cattle. What would his family say if they knew he regularly used it on people? On women? Would they be ashamed? Should he be ashamed?
So Dalton hadn’t been totally off base.
Ben felt raw. Used. Confused. Lonely. As much as he’d broadened Ainsley’s horizon, she’d broadened his too. He glanced around the room. He felt nothing. No pride, or excitement or anger. No anticipation for what might be in store for him for future nights with future subs. He just wanted to go home.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Ainsley dreamt of Bennett every night. Images so vivid she couldn’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality until she woke up alone.
After last night’s dream she’d leapt out of bed and stared out the hotel window across the freeway to the Denver skyline. She’d hoped she wouldn’t dream of him here, as she had the last two nights in her bed in Sundance.
Wrong.
Which begged the question: were her regrets about her decision haunting her?
Yes.
But there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She was miserable. Trying to stave off the dreams that left her feeling bereft, she drank four strong gin and tonics at the hotel bar before she stumbled back to her room.
But not even booze kept him from overtaking her thoughts.
A rough-skinned hand brushed her forehead and she shot straight up in bed. She couldn’t see anything it was so dark. “Who’s there?”
The echo of heavy breathing was the only response.
She scrambled backward, even when she recognized the warm, earthy scent of her dominant’s aftershave. “What do you want?”
A deep, male chuckle. “You know what I want.”
That initial spike of fear faded. She shouldn’t be surprised he’d taken it upon himself to make her bedroom stranger sexual fantasy a reality.
Or was this a dream? It was so vivid, the sound of his feet shuffling on the carpet. The scent of his skin so close she could taste his sweat on her tongue. The way her body was wound tight with anticipation whenever he was near.
“I’ve been watchin’ you. I know what you do when you’re alone in your bedroom.”
“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Do you know how many times I’ve watched you jerk up your nightgown and reach for your vibrator? You grab a couple of your favorite naughty books. You’ve used them so many times the pages fall open to your favorite scenes. I know which scenes get you hot,” he said, much closer to her than he’d been. “Which scenes make you turn that vibrator on high. Which scenes made your pu**y dripping wet.
“You imagine yourself trussed up. Subject to a man’s whim, maybe his to mercy, but always to his pleasure. However he wants to f**k you, in as many positions as his greedy, depraved brain can create, as many times as he can get it up.” His hot breath stuttered across her ear. “But here’s where your fantasy is mine. Here’s where the dream becomes real. Because this man, this dream lover, wants to prove he can be the man to give you what no man ever has before.”
She blurted, “What are you going to do to me?”
“Make you scream.”
Ainsley shrieked when his strong hands gripped her ankles and she was flipped onto her belly. Her arms were jerked together behind her back and cool metal circled her wrists.
Then his mouth was by her temple. “Be still. Be quiet or I’ll gag you. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“On your knees.”
Heart racing, she scooted back, focusing on the feel of her cotton sheets against the side of her face as her shoulders were pressed into the mattress. Metal grinding on metal sounded above her head. Then her arms were lifted off the small of her back. “What’s that?”
“To ensure you cooperate. If you fight me I’ll pull this chain and it lifts your arms until I get your attention.” Her Dom’s familiar touch floated down her arms, and his breath drifted across her nape. His callused fingertips traced her knuckles and fingers as he tested the tightness of the cuffs. His touch was efficient, but tender. Insistent, but elusive.
He was a study in contradiction tonight.
Why wouldn’t he let her see his face?
He stroked and teased. When a thick finger smeared cold lubricant into her ass**le, her heartbeat sped up. She sucked in a sharp breath when an anal plug breached the ring of muscle. She involuntarily clenched around it.
His hands caressed her ass. Then he delivered a hard smack on each cheek, growling, “Mine. Every part of you is mine tonight. Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“I’ll f**k any part of this body I want to.” The coarse hair of his calves brushed the inside of hers as he moved in behind her. He draped his warm body across her back, his weight pushing her chest deeper into the mattress. Panic filled her. She was trapped. She thrashed. A simple gentle touch on her neck stopped her frantic movements.
“Stop. Remember you’re safe with me. You’re always safe with me, Ainsley.”
She turned her head but she couldn’t see him.
Isn’t that what you wanted in your fantasy?
No. I want to see him. I want to know it’s him.
Then his big, capable hands squeezed her br**sts. His fingers twirled, tugged and tweaked her ni**les. Between the squeezing, the pinching and her complete immobilization, her breath was coming in short bursts of air that left her light headed. She started to drift into her floaty headspace.
His hand floated down her belly and his fingers traced her clit. “I wanna get you off like you do when you’re alone in your bed.” He stroked, working one, then two fingers inside her. Plunging deep, knowing exactly how much pressure to exert to keep her whimpering for more. To make her pu**y moisten and swell for him.
Just as she could almost taste that sweet climax, he withdrew. She groaned, turning her head to wipe the sweat gathered on her brow. To try and see him. “Please.”
The bed wiggled. “Maybe you’d rather get off with a vibrator.”