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She obeyed, finding that following orders was getting easier every time he issued one. She swallowed hard when he scratched an itch on his flat stomach, his fingernails leaving red lines over the raised ridges of his firm six-pack. She knew how to leave marks like that on unmarred skin, dragging her nails from here to there on a sub's willing body and listening to him moan.
“I'm going to find you a Dom. Someone you can trust, who cares about you and your welfare. You're not mine to keep, Connie, but until the right person comes along, you will be mine to tend to.” He tugged a gold packet from his back pocket before shedding his jeans and kicking them aside. “I'll be your sounding wall, your Dom, and your friend until the man you need comes. And I'll purge those secrets from you, one way or another, every time we're together.”
Heat pooled in her belly. She couldn't raise her hands to swipe at her face, but she still had some movement. With a moan, she rolled herself over onto her stomach, digging her toes into the carpet to brace herself. She'd rather fuck him than let him continue to drill into her memories, her failures, and her past. Sex she could handle; emotional purging she could not.
“Did I tell you to move, sub?” he asked, setting a hand on her hip and turning her back over.
“No, Sir. But you like to fuck from behind.”
“I do. I really do. But see, if I indulge myself, I'm not going to see this pretty face show me all the sore spots, am I? I'm not going to let you hide anymore, Connie, and you're going to feel me, see me, hear my voice as I fuck you. Your eyes are going to be wide and open, and they'll show me everything I want to see.” He ripped the foil open and sheathed himself with the condom. “They'll answer any question I ask.”
“No,” she whispered, horrified by the notion. “That's not allowed. That's cheating!”
“It's called using my initiative,” he corrected, hooking the curves of his thumbs and index fingers under her knees and spreading her wide. His gaze roamed over her, almost as tangible as the brush of fingers over her sex. “As Dominants, we understand how sex lowers a sub's defenses. How vulnerable they become.” His thumbs stroked the hollows in the backs of her knees. “As both, you have a unique perspective, Connie. You'll want to capitulate even while you strive to take control back. Somewhere in the middle of that war, you'll tell me everything I want to know and more.”
This was a bad, bad idea. Connie shook her head, unable to comprehend the nightmare of that situation. She should never have agreed to this, should have let the Domme dig her damn heels in. For God's sake, she was just as strong and mule-headed as Atticus. She could top the bastard without thinking twice, and yet here she was, naked and restrained with one of her best friends looming over her.
It would be laughable if she wasn't teetering toward an anxiety attack.
Atticus set her feet on the mattress and frowned. Muttering to himself, he leaned over and snagged two pillows in his big hand. Sliding his free hand under her ass, making her tense, he lifted her enough to slip first one pillow, then the other, beneath her. Between the height of the bed and the additional inches from the pillows, Connie realized he'd set her up perfectly.
Muscles rippled under Atticus' skin as he ranged himself over her, his hands pressing into the mattress beside her head. His chest skimmed her breasts, the fine dark hairs scraping lightly over her aching nipples. She stiffened when his cock settled on her mound, hard and heavy. Thickly erect. “Relax and submit, little sub. These eyes of yours don't belong anywhere but on mine.”
A shift of his hips dragged his cock down, nudging her clit before parting her swollen labia and notching the thick crown against her. Everything was about to change. Her hands strained at her sides, but the chains held fast. “Wait. Atticus, wait, I'm not—”
The green of his irises was quickly being eclipsed by his pupils. They didn't leave hers for a second, not even as he pushed forward. They both moaned as she stretched around the broad intrusion, and Connie couldn't stop a harsh groan from leaving her lips as her body arched. Her inner muscles clamped down on him, squeezed him tight, and refused to let him in.
He winked at her. “Resist all you want, it's not going to stop me.” His fingers fisted in the sheets, his body surging with a long, slow thrust that decimated her attempt to keep him out. “Halfway there, Con. Take me all the way.”
Only halfway? Jesus, she knew she was out of practice, but this was just absurd. Her toes were already curling as a precursor to orgasm, her pussy was adamant it didn't need a single inch more, and the submissive in her was rolling around on the floor, legs kicking in the air, screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes!”
She hated not having use of her hands. She could brace them against his hips, but she couldn't push him away. Couldn't hold onto him, onto anything. She was helpless, her body rocking in time with his careful thrusts, her hips twisting as the fullness inside her grew too much to bear. His eyes were the only thing holding her close.
He wasn't touching her. His hands weren't on her body, his body was barely in contact with hers except for the shaft stretching her open. He'd left her hands bound so she couldn't forge a connection with him. The fucker knew she'd need that connection, and he'd left her with only one option—to look him in the eyes and let him sift through her head while her thoughts were on display.
She pitied the submissive who would be the queen to his king.
Slowly, like a giant piston in a machine, Atticus began to move. Long thrusts that slapped his balls against her ass, building into shorter, harder repetitions. It stirred her nervous system into responding, but she didn't care about an orgasm. She felt detached and cold and numb.
Horribly, horribly alone.
Her gaze drifted to the left, her head following. There was nothing she could do to ignore the jerk of her body, but she had ways of cutting herself off from reality. Living with Evan had given her an opportunity to perfect the technique of leaving the physical behind and finding solace in her mind.
“Bad girl,” Atticus chastised with a growl of disapproval. “Let me see those eyes, Constance.”
She felt her lips skew, her expression struggling to contain the barrage of tears wobbling her lower lip. The first tears wet her eyelashes. Her hands went limp, falling to the sheets as a sign of surrender. Her body followed suit, unwilling to keep up pretenses when she was dying inside. “Just finish and leave, Atticus,” she whispered tightly, her voice utterly defeated.
“Eyes,” he insisted, driving deep enough into her that she felt a vague twinge of pain. He held himself perfectly still, making pleased noises as her pussy spasmed around his cock. “Your eyes, my eyes. No evasions. Look at me, little sub.”
It would be over faster if she obeyed. With that in mind, Connie turned her face back to his, reluctantly meeting those green eyes. They searched hers, and he sighed heavily. “Give me something, Connie. Anything. Spill one little secret so I can make you feel better.”
More tears escaped, but there was nothing she could do about them. Shaking her head, she pressed her lips together to stop the sob building in her chest from bursting free. But her eyes popped wide when he just shrugged those massive shoulders and shifted position, altering how his pubic bone pressed down on hers. He fucked her, the new angle ensuring her clit took plenty of impact as her pussy took a pounding.
In under two minutes, he had her toeing the line of orgasm. She straddled it, her body quivering as it prepared to take the leap, and her brain not even registering the pulses of pleasure. Still, it hurt when he pulled out, leaving only the crown inside her. It hurt to be on that line and to be yanked away from it.
“What's eating at you more, Con? Bodie and her pregnancy? Archie turning to homicide? Alicia falling into depression, with you on her heels? Maybe it's all the shit at work, maybe it all stems back to Evan and his perverted games of cruelty.” His huge frame shook with the effort of holding himself over her. “Do you think I don't want to touch you, Con? That I enjoy not feeling you beneath me, not feeling your hands on me? There's one huge emotion jumping out from those gray eyes of yours, little sub. Abandonment.”
She choked on a sob. If her hands had been free, she'd have used them to batter his chest with the unfairness of this whole situation. She wanted to be outraged by the fact he was delving into her as though she was an open book, but all she could do was cry. She hated herself for the weakness. “They left. I told them to go, and they just left me.”
