Alpha Submissive: A Bondage Romance (Forbidden series Book 1) Read online

  Pity shimmers within the green. “You know, Ava.”

  “I don’t.” Don’t pity me, Roane. Please. Don’t pity me. “I can’t.”

  Chapter Four

  Perhaps my silent plea is visible in my eyes. Perhaps he sees the betraying tremble of my chin as I fight to stay in control. I don’t know what drives him to suddenly reach out and caress my jawline. It’s the most loving gesture I’ve ever felt and it is almost my undoing. I look past him, up toward the ceiling, biting at my lip and trying not to blink until those damn tears are absorbed back into my eyes.

  When he touches me again it’s not on my face, and I yelp at the unexpected shock of his thumb sliding beneath the cord to rub my clit, back and forth several times. My legs, one free, one bent and bound, involuntarily slide open wider to give him easier access. My whole body is betraying my brain, it seems.

  “You’re so wet,” he says, and I hear the echo of my own wondering thirst in his words. However unwanted it might be, I do desire Roane and I can tell that he returns the feeling. There’s no point denying it to myself any longer, nor to him. He can see it in my body’s response to his nearness, and if I’m reading desire in his avid gaze, then I’m sure he’s reading it ten-fold in mine.

  I’ve wanted this man ever since I first laid eyes on him, and there’s no way he wouldn’t be aware of it. Not when my glistening pussy is laid out directly in front of his eyes.

  Does Nicole feel like this when Roane touches her? He says they don’t have that kind of relationship, but how could they not, when this rope, like an extension of his hands, both contains and incites so much intense emotion? A flare of jealousy ignites deep in my belly, only adding to the mix of confusion and heady excitement.

  “Yes,” I start to answer. “This is…oh!” I gasp as one of his fingers slips inside my channel. I can’t remember what I was about to say. I can only raise my mound upward, lifting my ass off the bench seat and using the ropes to help propel the lift. I push hard into his finger fuck, clenching my muscles around the digit and trying to force him deeper.

  “Do you want to use your safe word, Ava?” He adds a second finger, thrusting as deep as he can, cupping my butt with his other hand and encouraging my back-and-forth rhythm. “You can. If you wish.”

  “No. I don’t wish.” I’m panting, speaking between clenched teeth, and that’s when I hear the pattern of his breathing change and become almost as ragged as my own. I can’t contain myself. A deep groan vibrates up and out of my throat. “Roane. I hate this. But I want you, so much.”

  I’m not sure what I’m asking, but as fast as he entered me, his fingers are gone from my body. I want him back inside me. I want him to release me from these shackles. I want to be fucked by him until I reach that delicious place of oblivion that a good orgasm brings. I want his hard cock rammed inside my body, buried right to the base so our bodies connect as one.

  Oh God, I’m an emotional mess.

  I drop my ass back onto the bench seat, hating the empty feeling inside and somehow even more sensitized in that area than before he breached me with his fingers.

  “All okay?” He checks my hands and feet, presumably for circulation problems, and I feel the moist slide of my own juices still fresh on his fingers as he touches me. I nod, wondering how he can move from pleasure to business and back again so effortlessly, when I’m craving him so badly I feel like I’m about to explode. I pray for him to return and give my greedy cunt more attention. I’m on fire, but definitely not with pain.

  Instead he moves away, out of my line of vision. Where is he? What’s he going to do next? Is he—?

  “Oh!” He’s working the pulley. With my arms strapped in front of my breasts and my torso wrapped in loops, I’m pulled inexorably upward off the bench. With one leg bent in half I’m off balance instantly and I have no choice but to let the rope take me. I expect him to stop when I’m fully standing but he keeps going past that limit until I’m forced onto the tiptoes of my unbound leg, and into a position where my body is tilted slightly backwards. My mound is even more exposed like this, with my bound leg pulled sideways. I have no proper purchase on the rug with my toes and no chance, even if I wanted it, to shield my pussy from his view.

  Thank God I shaved everything this morning.

  Now I am uncomfortable to the point of pain, but the protest that leaves my lips is still not my safe word. It sounds like a pathetic, inarticulate squeak. I’m not surprised it doesn’t stop him. What’s wrong with me? Why don’t I just blurt out our agreed safety signal and be done with this nonsense?

  When the lifting motion finally stops he reappears to stand in front of me. His eyes have darkened and his breathing is even shorter than it was. The further my immobilization progresses, the more he is turned on. His lips are slightly parted and I see the glint of his teeth, and once again I’m reminded of a predatory tiger with its prey. His gaze is too strong, too intense and finally I can’t take it any longer. I look away, twisting my head to the side.

  Oh my God. “You’re naked!” When did he remove his clothing? He’s completely starkers, and he looks so fucking hot I almost orgasm on the spot. His erection is even more impressive than the constraints of his trousers hinted at, and I laugh a little to try and hide my ogling. My voice goes all squeaky, like it isn’t working properly. “You have an all-over tan.”

  His skin cries out for my touch, and yet I can do nothing with these bound wrists but drink in the view. Soft and inviting, like rich creamy caramel, and yet the layers of hard muscle beneath are so clearly defined that he could easily work as a model, perhaps for a sexy aftershave campaign. I know from reading his bio that he’s a couple of years older than me, but his physique is so finely honed he could pass for someone in his twenties.

  Are we really going to do this in front of a crowd tomorrow night? I can’t believe I’m here, hanging trussed up like the proverbial turkey, and all I can think about is that dick, the one right in front of me with its glistening tip decorated by a drop of pre-cum, forcing its way past the rope still lining my seam until its hard length is embedded deep inside me.

  His head tilts as he studies me. “It’s my natural skin tone.”

  “Oh. Lucky you. Most women would pay a fortune for—”

  “Quiet, Ava.” He lifts a hand, silencing my nervous babble. “I’m not going to keep you suspended. Not for your first time. But I want you to experience this before I lower you and complete my pattern work.”

  Just like that he leans over and takes one of my nipples into his mouth. He sucks it in, hard, and sensation explodes from that place of connection like fire through my veins. When he begins to suckle I squirm violently, my body desperate to release the responsiveness in some kind of action…or movement…anything that will allow me to let it all out. But I have to hang here, tethered, while the slip and slide of his lips on my breast creates exquisite torture and he flicks back and forth over the nipple with a clearly practiced tongue movement. The heat of that impressive cock sliding enticingly along my slit…

  “Yes! Oh God, Roane, that feels so good!” He suckles even harder, taking a whole mouthful of breast as well as the nipple, almost as if he’s trying to draw milk right out from the core of me, and a wonderful tugging starts deep down within my belly. Is that my womb, clenching and responding to his ministrations? My clit is so swollen it must look like a plump cherry, full and heavy between my legs. Is this what it’s like to have balls, to have a cock? To have so much blood rushing to your sex that all you can do in the end is scream and let out the intense need?

  My moan is rough, almost a growl. Roane answers against my breast with a responding groan that vibrates my flesh and enhances my desire. Finally he leaves that area, pressing light kisses over my rib cage and down across my stomach, skirting along and around the loops and knots with seemingly practiced ease. When he reaches my pussy I can no longer see him from this restrictive position, but his hot breath feathers across my sex and I know he’s kneeling there
in front of me, studying whatever engorged bits are currently on display. I’m wriggling like a worm on a hook as I anticipate his mouth, but when he slides the rope to one side and finally connects in that intimate kiss the reality is so much more than anything I could ever have anticipated.

  His tongue parts my labia and circles my clit, so slick already with cream that he has no need to moisten it further. Then he is kissing and sucking in the most intimate place possible, as hard as he did on my breast, using his lips and tongue and even his teeth to scrape and suck and lick. He centers it all around the sensitized nub at my core, flicking fast with his tongue until the whole area is on fire.

  “Yes, Roane, just there…” I’m falling…can’t hang on…and I don’t even notice the uncomfortable bite of these ropes anymore, I’m so desperate to climax. When he adds in a swiping movement up and down my slit with his thumb, then pushes up and into my channel again with his digit, it’s finally too much. I can’t hold on any longer and I burst right in his mouth with a screaming cry of release. He rides it with me, his mouth staying connected with my juicy cunt as I shudder and moan through my orgasm. Finally, eventually, I collapse, spent and exhausted and hanging like a limp rag.

  He doesn’t allow me time to recover. He rises up from the floor in a swift movement and leans over me, staring down. When he reaches around to grip my ass, my free leg automatically leaves the floor to wrap around his hips. His arms beneath my butt, and the rope suspension system, are now the only things holding me up. I have no choice but to trust him and relax, and when I finally bear down, giving him my full weight, he grunts and closes his eyes for a second.

  “I never do this,” he says.

  What does he mean?

  His eyes spring open and when they meet mine I see a hint of something new in their depths. Vulnerability? How can Roane be vulnerable? He’s in control at all times; has to be for a session such as this to work. I don’t understand, but I can’t concentrate to try and figure it out because he’s positioning the head of his cock at my channel entrance, and all I can think is how much I want this man. I want him so bad that right now nothing else matters.

  “Please fuck me, Roane. Now.”

  He spreads my pussy and pushes until the tip of his cock is sucked into my channel. “I’m breaking my number one rule.” He laughs briefly and the vibration shakes us both. “I don’t even know why.” He shoves up into my body, which is still spasming a little from my orgasm, and the thrusting movement hits that sweet spot deep inside. It sends me straight back over the edge. I scream and come again, only this time he’s right there with me, plunging hard through the vaginal muscles contracting around him until he too, lets out a long shuddering moan and empties himself inside me.

  Chapter Five

  We stay physically connected for what seems like hours, but I’m sure it’s only a short space of time. Eventually he withdraws, a slight frown marring that perfect brow. I hope he unties me soon. Every part of my body aches and I’m not sure I’ll even be capable of walking after this.

  He’s only gone for a few minutes and then he’s back. I start to smile until I see he’s holding something long and black in one hand. He’s running the length of it almost lovingly through the fingers of his other hand. Not rope.

  “Do you trust me, Ava?”

  “What…” I’m still a little groggy from my double orgasm, and it takes a moment before I realize what it is. “No.” I shake my head from side to side. “Not a flogger. I don’t want—ouch!” He lashes out and catches me lightly across the hip. It’s only a tiny sting, a taste of what might be in store if I agree to this.

  “If you’re going to heal fully you need to trust me.”

  Heal? “I…don’t know if I can.”

  “You will need to trust in yourself, too. You have the strength, Ava. But it’s your choice.” He strokes the tails of the flogger across my breasts which are still sensitized from our coupling, and I almost moan at the delicate sensation. “Do I have your consent to do whatever it takes to help you find the freedom you crave?”

  “I…” Whatever it takes? How far will he go? Can I really trust him? Trust myself? I close my eyes and offer a small nod. “Yes,” I whisper, and then my eyes fly open as he places the flogger under my chin and lifts.

  “Say it like you mean it. I won’t do this without your permission.”

  I look deep into those green depths. His gaze is mesmerizing, but ultimately this is still my choice. Freedom. He’s right. I do crave it. I nod again, this time more decisively. “Yes.”

  My reward is another sudden lash, and the shock of it reverberates right through me. I growl wordlessly, but he just shrugs and raises an eyebrow. ““If you want me to stop, use your safe word.”

  I narrow my eyes. “No.” I will not show weakness. Not even after what we’ve just experienced.

  A flicker of emotion crosses his face, but it’s gone before I can read it. When he lashes me again, my voice shakes. “This isn’t fun, Roane.”

  He gets close, right up in my face, and his voice is clear. “Then use. Your. Safe word.” He punctuates his words with a light slap of the flogger and I can’t stop the tears that well up in response.

  “No.” I won’t give up, or give in. Bastard. This whole experience has gone from pleasure to humiliation in only a few short minutes and I can’t keep up. I didn’t expect this from him. I didn’t expect it, for us.

  “Are you angry with me, Ava?”

  “No.” Yes, I’m fucking angry with you, Roane. And with myself for agreeing to this. I press my lips tightly together, not wanting to give him anything more. Not now. Not after this.

  “Liar. Don’t lie, Ava. Not to me. Not to yourself.”

  On that last word he whips me again, twice in quick succession, and this time I can’t contain the squeal.

  “Yes, I’m fucking angry!” I hurl the admission in his direction, but it doesn’t stop the barrage of stinging that follows. The thing that’s been lurking through this whole experience, tucked safely deep down inside, lurches upward in response to the pain and all of a sudden I can’t keep it tamped down anymore. Anxiety. Panic. Fear. Rage. It’s all rising to the surface, and I can’t stop it…can’t control it, can’t…

  “No!” My body begins to shiver violently. I’m still balanced on one leg, completely at his mercy, and I can’t stop this damn trembling that just gets worse and worse until I’m not holding myself up anymore, but being held completely by these flimsy little pieces of rope. I gasp, then a sob breaks free from my throat. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to do this, I can’t do this…and yet those fucking tears have already started dripping down my cheeks…

  “I have you, Ava. Trust me. Let go. Let it out.”

  He drops the flogger, and my tears well up too fast to blink them back. I can’t do this. I can’t. A keening noise fills the room and I’m horrified when I realize it’s coming from me. I turn my head and my reflection in that mirrored wall looks hideous. My mouth is wide-open and my eyes are streaming tears, and suddenly I’m shuddering and shaking and weeping like I’ve gone completely mad. “Roane! What’s happening?” I scream out his name and he’s there in a heartbeat. Gentle hands stroke my body, follow the curves, pause at my bindings before continuing in slow circular movements that soothe the pain and ground me.

  “Cry, little one. Cry.”

  I do, with huge gulping sobs that I never knew would sound so loud once I finally let them out. I cry for Connor, my beautiful, damaged twin brother, who couldn’t beat the drug habit that finally took his life, and I cry for the mother who may have protected us if she had survived beyond our birth. I cry for my failed relationship with my father, the man who put us through so much abuse, and all in the name of love. It was never physical bar the shouting, but always with the threat of violence hanging over us if Connor or I dared to be anything other than perfect. In the end I’m crying for me, for all the lost hopes and dreams of my childhood that got shut away into a tiny dark
place in the back of my mind the day I discovered Connor high on pills and realized I had to take responsibility for his life as well as my own.

  Most of all, I cry because Roane has reduced me to this. A snotty-nosed snivelling mess who can’t even blow her own nose and clean herself up. I have no pride left. He has fucked me, and then stripped me bare. He has left me with nothing.

  “Please,” I sob, not even knowing what I’m asking for. “Please…”

  A warm, moist cloth is on my face, wiping the tears and snot away, cleaning me up and giving me back a modicum of dignity.

  “Good girl. I’m going to lower you now, Ava. You’ve done brilliantly.” Roane’s voice is tranquil in the oasis of emotion that still rocks my system, and in his words I finally identify something positive on which to focus.

  Calm. He offers it, and finally I accept his offering. It descends, as smoothly as my physical descent from a state of hanging down toward the floor. Serenity trumps the panic as Roane releases me from the rope pulley and finally I lay still and silent, and for the first time in…ever…I’m not consumed with fear. There is nothing I can do in this situation but accept. Nothing to do but relax into it…hand over responsibility…simply be…

  My eyes close and I drift.

  Chapter Six

  I’m not sure how long I lie here in this state. Eventually I realize he is checking my limbs again, running a fingernail across the back of my hands, and then doing the same on my feet. I frown at the sensation, and open my eyes to catch his satisfied nod.

  “This is called subspace.”

  “Mmm.” It’s like I’m asleep, and yet I’m not. I’m definitely in a dream-like state where every movement, even my tiny nod, is slow. And yet somehow, every sensation is also heightened. I was hypnotized once, a few years ago, to try to combat my anxiety, and it feels something like that—aware of my surroundings but existing in a weightless, worry-free vacuum. Heaven.