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  She shuddered and made a small mewling sound, pressing herself against him.

  Oh god, here he was, basking in the fucking afterglow and she hadn’t even come yet. She was wound tight, her body shaking with the need for release.

  What the hell was wrong with him? That mind-blowing orgasm had obviously scrambled his fucking brains.

  “Caitlin? Baby? You need to come.”

  Her answer was apparent in the incoherent pleading sound she made. That and her hot, wet pussy pushing up against his thigh. Paul felt his cock start to rouse again.

  Jesus.

  He needed to learn more about how her body worked. He had to see how she pleasured herself.

  “Caitlin, I want you to touch yourself.”

  Caitlin looked up at him, confusion in her lust-glazed eyes. God, she was so near the edge, she probably hadn’t understood a word he’d said.

  He put a bit of an edge into his voice, the kind of tone he knew she would instantly respond to.

  “Caitlin. You are going to touch yourself. You will show me how you give yourself pleasure. I want to see it. Now.”

  Caitlin blinked a couple of times and then turned onto her back, scooting up so she was half-reclined, propped up on the pillows near the headboard. She spread her legs and her hand hovered uncertainly over her pussy as she looked up at him, her eyes questioning.

  Paul could barely breathe. Fuck, she was so beautiful. It took everything he had not to throw himself on her again like some kind of ravenous beast. “Now, Caitlin,” he rasped out through gritted teeth.

  Caitlin parted her folds with one hand, while with a finger from the other, she began circling her clit. She dipped her fingers into the wetness at her entrance and then continued circling, rubbing faster and faster. She watched him until her eyes closed and her head fell back against the pillows.

  As she touched herself, her breathing became choppy, her chest heaving, her body glistening with a sheen of sweat. She started moaning, interspersed with incoherent noises that sounded as if they were supposed to be words.

  Minutes and minutes went by and then suddenly her whole body became rigid and she arched up off the bed, balancing only on her feet and her shoulders. Rivulets of sweat dripped off her body and onto the sheets. Her face was a mask of concentration, her fingers working furiously, and the sounds coming from her were almost pleading.

  Paul watched her, and it was at the same time the most beautiful and the most heartbreaking thing he’d ever seen. His gut felt as if it were twisting. Come, Caitlin, come, he silently urged.

  More minutes ticked by. Her body was straining, her overtaxed muscles trembling. Suddenly she gave a desolate cry and her exhausted body collapsed back down onto the bed.

  “I can’t. I can’t make myself—I need…”

  Paul crawled over Caitlin’s body and kissed her mouth. He kissed her hard and slow and deep, their tongues twining and mating with each other. He inhaled the breath from her body. He made love to her with his mouth. When he pulled away, her eyes were glazed and heavy lidded and she was clinging to his shoulders, her nails digging into his back.

  He thought then that he would love to kiss her like this every single day. Perhaps for the rest of his life.

  “What do you need, my beautiful baby girl?” he whispered against her mouth.

  “Paul, please…I need you to hurt me.”

  God, he could never hurt her the way she’d been hurt before. But maybe…

  Paul got off the bed and stood looking down at Caitlin. “Caitlin, turn over. Onto your hands and knees.”

  Caitlin immediately followed his instructions, making such a beautiful picture with her hair falling down like a brown, silky curtain over her breasts, the lush, rounded globes of her ass exposed just like he had seen in his dreams. But this was so much better than dreams. This was real.

  Then he saw the scars.

  Paul fought the bile that rose up in his throat. Not because she was hideously disfigured. No, she was still the most incredibly beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But the network of lines covering her ass and below her shoulder blades made him think about what she would have suffered for those marks.

  He clenched his hands into fists and tried to breathe deeply. Tried to block out the thoughts of this beautiful girl under that sadistic bastard’s whip. He forced himself to turn away and take one step and then another to the cabinet that held what he needed.

  What he really wanted to do was caress her, kiss every single mark on her body. But he suspected she might construe that as pity. She had been afraid he would reject her because of what had been done to her. “Sick and dirty and used,” she had said. There was no way he was going risk making her feel that way.

  She was begging him for pain. And he would try to give her what she needed. But he would do it his way. There was erotic pain and then there was abuse. He would never hurt her the way she had been hurt before.

  Paul stepped out of her line of vision and Caitlin waited, heart pounding, wondering what he was going to do to her. She couldn’t hear anything but the sound of her own breathing, breathing that seemed to get louder and more labored as time dragged on.

  She heard a door opening and closing. A drawer sliding open. Rustling sounds, things being moved around.

  It seemed as if she waited there for hours, anticipation making time drag on endlessly.

  She had been so focused on what Paul was going to do next, she had forgotten he would see her scars with her ass waving in the air the way it was. She tensed, praying he wouldn’t react like Thomas had, pitying her and crying over her. She didn’t want that from Paul. She just couldn’t bear the thought of it.

  She heard him moving behind her. A cool breeze caressed her exposed pussy and ass, and despite her fears, it caused those parts of her to quiver and clench in response.

  “Touch yourself, Caitlin.” His command in that deep, rough voice made her jump slightly. Without hesitation this time, her fingers found her sensitive bundle of nerves and she manipulated it.

  Thwack.

  Caitlin jumped and squealed, totally unprepared for the assault. Before she could take a breath, his belt came down on her ass again.

  “Don’t stop, Caitlin,” he growled.

  She resumed her ministrations as Paul lashed her over and over, each strike more punishing than the last. Every stripe began to feel like fire on her flesh until her whole ass was burning and throbbing.

  One lash caught her just below the crease where her ass met her thighs. Ouch! She cried out and lurched forward, tensing her muscles, her body trying to get away. She gritted her teeth and moved back into position, arching her back, offering her ass up for his belt. It was difficult to stay in still and take a beating when not tied down. It was easier when you didn’t have to fight your own body, fight the urge to run away from the pain.

  Crack, crack, crack, crack.

  The lashes rained down on her, every one now on that sensitive skin on her upper thighs.

  On the last lash, the tip of his belt curled around her leg and flicked her pussy lips. Oh god.

  She’d reached that point again, teetering on the precipice. She knew the feeling well. She could go no further without suffering extreme pain.

  “Paul, please! I need more.”

  She heard the belt clatter to the ground.

  Paul put his hand on her back and pushed her down until her head was against the mattress and her ass sticking up in the air. He roughly shoved her knees farther apart and she felt a whoosh of air just before his open palm smacked her exposed pussy. He smacked her hard.

  A sound was torn from deep in her throat—a guttural, almost animalistic sound. The contact of his hand shocked her, and the resulting reverberations traveled viscerally deep; it was like the crash and the pervasive resonance of a gong.

  He smacked her over and over, and each time she made that same sound as his hand made contact with her flesh, and then felt the resulting vibrations deep inside her cunt and her ass.<
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  “Fuck, Caitlin, you’re so wet.” Paul sounded as if he were the one in pain.

  Caitlin knew she would be dripping, but she was past the point of embarrassment. She only cared about one thing. She needed to come. God, she needed to come. She made a sound, a high-pitched protest from between tightly pursed lips as she pushed her ass higher into the air.

  She heard Paul cussing quietly but vehemently.

  Without warning, the bed dipped behind her and Paul thrust his cock inside her to the hilt. He gripped her shoulders. His voice sounded so deep and rough, it was almost unrecognizable. “Have to fuck you, Caitlin. I can’t…”

  And then there were no more words, just the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh, Paul’s deep, male sounds of pleasure and Caitlin’s pleading cries.

  Much later, when Paul lay back on the bed, sated and exhausted from the two most mind-blowing orgasms he’d ever experienced, he pulled Caitlin to him and held her in his arms.

  She was exhausted too, but nowhere near sated. She was sobbing, still quivering and shaking with her body’s need for release.

  My poor baby girl.

  Paul held her tight and rubbed her back. She was mumbling half-sentences. “I just can’t… It’s hopeless. I’ll never be able to… It’s no use.”

  Her crying sounded so forlorn, Paul’s heart bled for her. He buried his face in her hair and stroked her, trying to calm her, to soothe her.

  “Paul, I can’t take it, it’s been so long. I can’t take it,” she sobbed, her hot tears running down his chest.

  “How long, baby girl?” Paul whispered gruffly.

  “Eight months,” she answered in a trembling voice.

  Eight months? Eight fucking months since she’d had any kind of sexual release? Christ.

  He tightened his hold on her, probably squeezing the breath right out of her lungs. But he needed to get closer. He wanted to take away her pain, to give her everything she needed. And they both knew exactly what she needed.

  He still had his whip. It was buried in the back of his closet. But fuck, he couldn’t do it, not after what happened to Nikki.

  No, he’d swore he would never pick up a whip again as long as he lived. And even if he did, how could he hurt Caitlin the way she needed? He longed to give her anything she wanted. But he could never do the kind of things to her that had caused those scars on her body. How could he lash her so severely he’d shred her skin and make her bleed and scream in agony? It would be torture not only for her, but for him. He felt sick.

  No. Fuck no. He couldn’t do it. Not that.

  Caitlin was still shaking and clinging to him, her cries an unfulfilled, heartbreaking keening, muffled against his chest. Paul’s chest and gut and throat ached. He realized his face was wet and the tears weren’t Caitlin’s. It had been a long, long time since he’d shed tears.

  He held Caitlin close and cried silently for her, his tears falling unheeded into her hair while he soothed her, gentling her with his hands as best he could, until she fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  Paul awoke to a thumping sound and then a muffled curse. He sat bolt upright in bed to see Caitlin stumbling around his bedroom.

  “What in the hell are you doing, woman?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep.

  “Um, I walked into the chair.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Ah, yeah, I just… My shin hurts a little bit.”

  He couldn’t see her features properly in the shadows, but she sounded a little sheepish and he knew she’d be blushing.

  “And what in the heck are you doing walking into chairs at,” he looked at the clock, “two thirty in the morning?”

  “I’m, ah—going home?”

  “Why?”

  There was a long pause and he wasn’t sure she was going to answer. “Don’t you want me to go?”

  He sighed. “Why do you think I’d want you to go, Caitlin?”

  “It’s just what I’m used to. I mean—he always made me leave straight after, um…” She took a breath.

  God, what kind of a fucking bastard was Ivan?

  “Come here, baby girl.”

  When Caitlin walked to the bed, Paul reached out his hand and she took it. He pulled her down until she was kneeling on the bed next to him. He could see her now in the glow of the lights he’d left on downstairs in his hurry to get to his bedroom last night. Her body was a study in light and shadow. And Paul had an overwhelming urge to lick the shadowed valley in between her breasts. He tore his gaze away from her cleavage and looked into her expectant eyes.

  “Caitlin, I don’t want you to assume anything will be the same with us as it was with him. If you want to know something—anything—ask me. But never assume. It’s quite likely that I’ll expect very different things of you and you’ll learn as we go along. Never be afraid of making a mistake. With me, there will be no punishments for misdemeanors—real or contrived.” Paul smirked. “Well, unless you count a spanking in a teacher-student role-play, while I tell you what a naughty girl you’ve been, a punishment.”

  Caitlin giggled and ducked her head, biting her lip.

  Hmmm. Looks like a bit of authority-figure role-play coming up. Paul filed that thought away for future perusal.

  He reached out and stroked her hair and the side of her face, sliding down to run his fingers over her lips. They parted slightly and he felt her breath on his fingertips. And he was getting hard for her. Again. Shit.

  He ached to take her again, but she would have to go through the whole denied-orgasm response and he couldn’t do that to her now.

  “Baby girl, I’ve been dreaming about having you in my bed for a long, long time. And now that I finally have you here, I do not want to let you go.”

  The corner of Caitlin’s mouth turned up and her mouth slowly transformed into the most open, honest, happy smile he thought he’d ever seen. She was so delighted just because he wanted her to stay in his bed. It was as if he’d told her she’d just won a million dollars. And didn’t that make him feel good? Fucking delighted, in fact.

  Yeah, they could lie in his bed and be damn well delighted together.

  He lay back and pulled her down onto the bed so that she was half on top of him, her breasts flattened against his chest. And then he kissed her—long, tender, agonizingly slow, lazy kisses that started a burn within him. When he felt Caitlin’s body start to move against him, keeping time with the strokes of his tongue in her mouth, he pulled away. He had to be careful not to arouse her too far; otherwise he would only cause her more suffering.

  “Go to sleep, my beautiful girl. You have to get up for work in a few hours.”

  She made a little mewl of protest and then snuggled up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and thought of cold things to try to stop the burning ache in his cock. Not long after, he heard her breathing even out and deepen as she fell asleep.

  After only a few hours of sleep, Paul lay awake in the hours before dawn, just watching Caitlin at rest. She was so beautiful while she slept. She looked even more innocent than she normally did. Surprising, since he’d thought it was her large, soulful eyes that made her appear that way. Now she lay, her face peaceful in sleep, her long lashes an ebony fan against the pale cream of her cheek, her pouting lips slightly parted. She was an angel. He smiled. His angel.

  He spent hours thinking about what he could do for her—to her—to recondition her. It would take time and a whole lot of patience. And if—no, when it worked, he would give his woman more orgasms than she knew what to do with. He smiled an evil smile. He would force her to come so many times, it would be torture in itself.

  And she would love every minute of it.

  While Paul watched her and made his devious plans, he found himself again and again reaching for her, desperate to touch her. Wanting to feel that smooth, satiny skin under his roughened hands, run his fingers through her silken tresses.

  And suddenly he had a thought—and wo
ndered if he could possibly surprise an orgasm out of Caitlin.

  She had been so focused on it last night, concentrating so intently trying to achieve release. He wondered if she didn’t have time to think about it, maybe one might sneak up on her when she wasn’t expecting it…

  Caitlin was pulled out of her crazy dream of turning up for an important meeting sans bra and shoes. There had been the subsequent running around trying to find those articles in an unknown maze of a building, aware of the ticking of time, while her clients impatiently waited for her.

  She was vaguely aware of a tugging on her wrists, and then she came awake fully. Her eyes flew open in shock as she felt Paul pushing his cock inside her. He smiled with that crooked smile as he eased himself deeper into her and her heart melted a little bit.

  “Good mornin’, darlin’,” he whispered as he lifted her legs up and rested them on his shoulders and pressed all the way in.

  Caitlin groaned at the glorious feeling of being filled by this incredible man. This gorgeous man who had held her and soothed her last night while she’d cried. Caitlin felt a pang in her chest as she looked up into his eyes. They glittered with humor.

  “I had two choices,” he said. “Wake you up with breakfast, or wake you up with this.” He rocked into her to emphasize what “this” was. “And I decided this would be the only thing that’d wake you out of that dead-to-the-world sleep you were in, snoring and snorting like a little piglet.”

  Caitlin made a sound of shocked indignation. “I do not snore and snort like a piglet.”

  “Oh yeah you do. You’ve kept me up for hours.” He reached down with a finger and pushed her nose up until it resembled something of a pig snout. He chuckled. “My, my, what a pretty little piglet you are.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I don’t snort. This is snorting.” She made a proper pig-snorting noise. Three times. Loudly. And they both dissolved into laughter.