Mr. Beautiful (Up in the Air 4)

I had her propped up on a table that held an impressive assortment of floggers.  I was on the tail end of f**king her silly, in fact had just made her come, when I heard a throat clearing loudly behind me.

With only the vaguest twinge of annoyance at the interruption, I held up a finger, indicating I'd be with them in just a moment, and finished.

I pulled out, removed the condom, threw it away in a wastebasket just under the table, and tucked myself back into my pants before finally looking at the intruder.

It was a small, beautiful woman.  She had masses of ink black hair and had collected an impressive amount of ink on her arms.

She did not look pleased.

I gave her a bland smile.  "Can I help you?"

"You're new," she observed.

"Yes.  I'm James.  Nice to meet you."

She shook her head, looking exasperated.  She shot Rose a look.  "Get cleaned up, sweetie," she told her, tone soft.  "This wasn't your fault."

Rose left, shooting me one last longing look over her shoulder.  I gave her a smile that let her know I wasn't finished with her.

"You do realize that what you just did could get you kicked you out of this circle indefinitely."

I cocked my head to the side.  "Interesting.  Which part?"

"Approaching a sub without a sponsor.  This is not a pick up joint.  This is not a place where you can operate how you normally do."

"She was amenable."

"That is not the point."

I gave her a wicked grin.  "You look like you could use a good f**k, too.  I've been remiss.  You're a beautiful woman.  I'm sure we can figure out a solution here."

She was shaking her head before I'd finished.  "You really are new at this, huh?"

"Yes.  I just saw this club here with a triskele over the door, figured what the hell, I'll give it a shot."

"If you can't take this at all seriously, you might as well go."

I flashed her a conciliatory smile.  "I'm only kidding.  I meant no harm.  What's your name?"

She smiled back warmly.  "I'm Frankie.  And I'm going to do you a huge favor, James."

It was on the tip of my tongue to suggest a specific sexual favor that I wouldn't mind from her, but I held it in.  "What favor would that be?"

"I'm going to take you under my wing, before you get yourself into trouble.  You can thank me later."

Turns out, I did.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

MY OWNERSHIP

PRESENT

For a long time, after the shooting, I couldn't sleep through the night.

Bianca slept like a baby most nights, like she never had before, like every worry she'd ever had had disappeared with the death of her father.

But not me.  I was more restless than ever.  A miracle had saved her, not me, and I felt helpless because of it.

It was not a feeling that fit me well.

In fact, it made my skin crawl in discomfort.  In anger.

It had been months since the attack.  She and Stephan were healed physically, and, it seemed emotionally, but I felt the wounds as though they were fresh.  What had almost happened haunted me.  I was a man that needed control, and I'd been shown, in the starkest way possible, that I had none.

I sat scant feet away from our bed, watching Bianca sleep.  She was nude, with not so much as a sheet covering her.  I'd seen to that.  I watched her lithe form shift on the bed, one long leg hitching up to give me a glimpse of the pink between her legs.

I felt like a f**king stalker.

In fact, I was one, watching her for hours on end, night after night.

I tensed when I realized she'd roused.  It disturbed her that I couldn't sleep, when she deserved peace more than anyone did.

She sat up, and I watched her heavy br**sts swaying with the movement.  "James."  Her voice was the softest utterance.

"Love," I answered, feeling the dark mood that had overtaken me lift in an instant.  Just having her eyes on me could do that.

She crawled across the bed toward me.  She'd always had an uncanny ability to do exactly the thing that would drive me the most wild, and she'd only gotten better at that over time.  She didn't hide her body from me as she moved.  In fact, she posed for me, even the exposure of her body an act of submission.  As though reading my thoughts, as though even those were a command, she paused on the edge of the bed, parting her legs to let me look my fill before she rose, approaching my chair.

I stood to meet her, my body drawn tight, my c**k throbbing as though I hadn't come, buried inside of her, just hours before.

I was a statue as she leaned up to my ear, my brows drawing together in a question.  Her lips touched my ear as she spoke.

"Hurt me," she whispered raggedly.

My eyes shut tight, my jaw went slack, and a shudder wracked my entire body.

I'd avoided all of the rough stuff since she'd been injured, but God had I missed it.

"We don't have to, Bianca.  It's not necess—"

She gripped my hair, pulling my face down to her injured cheek.  She dug her jaw into me so hard that I knew it must have hurt her badly.  It was nearly healed now, but I knew it was still tender.

"I need it," she rasped into my ear.  "I'll never stop needing it.  Please."