"You were high, and while it's a sad excuse, here I am." She waved a hand at the rope stretched over the mattress. "I either trust you with this on some subconscious level or I'm recklessly vindictive."

"You're not vindictive or reckless."

"Really? Because I know you don't want to do this, and, for whatever fucked-up reason, that just turns me on more. Even if it's just a two-second moment of escape, I want my damn orgasm. Don't make me regret it."

There it was. An opportunity he didn't deserve and one muddied with all kinds of bitterness. But he'd take it. "I'll earn back your trust, Charlee."

He loosened out his arms, legs, and chest, spreading out to fill the space he occupied. Face muscles slack. Steady gaze. Deep breath all the way down to his balls. "Get on the bed."

Chapter Sixty-Seven.

Long, toned limbs stretched in an X on Jay's bed, his most perverted fantasy come to life. Even face down, Charlee made a picture that inspired men to fight, live, and write music. And he was about to mark it up. His mind revolted against the idea, but his cock throbbed in readiness.

Metal guitar picks tipped his fingers. Dragging his eyes away from the mouth-watering apex of her legs, he crawled up her legs and straddled her hips. Leaning over her back, he dug the tapered ends into her shoulder.

She arched as much as the rope allowed and released a soundless gasp. He raked the points down her back, not breaking skin but hard enough to leave four grooved trails. Over and over, he etched red lines on her back and sides.

When she wiggled her ass, his dick jerked. He frustrated them both and skipped over her bottom, knelt beside her, and scratched her thighs and calves.

Once her lower half was as drawn up as her back, he sat on his heels and admired his work. Blistered lines crisscrossed her body from neck to feet, leaving the globes of her ass as white as the sheets. Perspiration dotted her arms and spine. Fiery hair cascaded in shiny waves from her profile, her mouth open but silent.

"Fucking beautiful."

She closed her eyes and her mouth, and smiled. Rosy lips and glowing cheeks, her contentment was blinding.

He climbed up her body, pushed his metal-tipped fingers through her thick mane, and dug them into her scalp. "I see your light." He brushed his lips over the healing gash in her earlobe. "Let it burn bright, Charlee."

"Mmm." Her eyes cracked open. "Tease."

"Complaining already?

Another smile. Hell yeah, his kinky girl liked it. He fastened his mouth over the welts on her shoulder, sucking and flicking with his tongue. Then he moved to the other scratches, giving them the same attention.

"Ah God, that feels good." She lifted her torso and pressed it against his mouth.

He grabbed her ass with the metal claws and squeezed. Her gasp had voice that time. A breathy grunt.

The creases around her eyes were peaceful not distressed. Good. Time to move on. He jumped off the bed.

Ginger root. That was what she'd carted in. With one end shaved down into the shape of a fat finger, there was no question about its purpose.

"I bought a butt plug this morning." He ripped open the package and set the plug beside her hip. "We don't need to improvise."

"The ginger is for figging. It's better." She twisted her neck, blinking up at him, and must have read the disbelief in his expression. "Burns like a sonabitch."

He cringed, even as he forced a bored look on his face.

"Use both. Double penetration."

A formidable rock landed in his stomach. He refused to grip his gut like a squeamish chump, so he mentally chanted. I am relaxed. I am in control. It's all for her. He rolled the affirmation over and over in his head until the rock disintegrated and his fingers hung loosely at his sides.

He tagged the lube from the desk.

"Don't need that." She looked over her shoulder at him and raised her ass. "Just shove her home, Jay."

Tempting. Not. Anal penetration might've been uncharted territory for him, but he knew that shoving anything in there was not safe. "Charlee, would you please just lay there-" he blew out a dramatic breath and tossed the lube over his shoulder "-and shut the fuck up."

She threw back her head and let out belly-deep laugh. It was the sound of fucking music, and he couldn't stop himself from launching onto the bed, grabbing her face, and turning her head to stare into her eyes.

How could she look at him, let alone laugh with him? He'd used drugs when he told her he wouldn't. He fucked her shamefully in public. Add to that the threat of Roy, who was out there planning her next enslavement. Through all of that, she didn't castrate Jay or throw a spectacular fit. She didn't cower in a fetal position. Instead, she confronted him with balls of steel and laughed while tied and exposed on his bed.

Laying on his side next to her, faces inches apart, his heart brimmed to bursting. "I fucking love you. I don't deserve to love you, but I will spend the rest of my life earning that right. You are my music, do you understand?"

Her eyes blinked furiously in the frame of his hands. "Okay."

"Okay." He dipped his head and kissed her. His mouth moving over hers and their tongues coiling and whipping, he fed her his breath, his love, his promise to make her happy.

When they broke apart, her lips were swollen and wet, her eyes half-lidded.

"So damn beautiful."

She grinned. "So you've said."

Perched on his elbow, stretched alongside her body, he'd say it again and again until she tired of hearing it. He wanted to wrap around her and bury his face in her hair. "You're beautiful."

"Uh huh."

"So fucking bea-"

"All right, Casanova. Enough."

He could feel himself sinking into the mattress. The longer he lay there, the heavier his limbs became. He rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept in over twenty-four hours. Focus. He still owed her an orgasm, and he wouldn't face plant until she had it.

Chapter Sixty-Eight.

Charlee missed the heat of Jay's body the second he left the bed. Boy, he was full of surprises.

He loved her. It was one thing to suspect, but to hear it vocalized with such vehemence made her insides soften into squishy, girly goo. Didn't mean she wasn't still furious- Crack.

Her ass cheek smarted under a sensational burn. She twisted, looked over her shoulder.

A metal buckle wrapped around his hand as he reared back the modified belt. Not what she had in mind for the sandpaper, but damn brilliant.

Crack.

"Unngh. Jesus." The other cheek pulsed in time with the first. Liquid heat gushed to her pussy. "Again."

The belt clattered to the floor, and she buried her face in the mattress. "You suck."

"As you wish." His hands slid over her inflamed cheeks, spread them, and his mouth sealed over her folds, sucking and licking.

The bedding bunched in her curling fingers where her arms were stretched, tied down near the headboard. He went after her clit with probing fingers as his tongue delved in and out and along her labium. Her insecurity over her scars drifted away under his affection.

The wet slurp of his saliva and her arousal layered the air. After his metal fingered foreplay, the lingering burn on her ass, and his demanding tongue, the climb toward orgasm dangled, a distant promise, but a promise nonetheless.

His mouth disappeared, and hard rubber pressed against the pucker of her ass. "How long has it been, Charlee?" He nudged it against her, not inserting, just a pressing threat.

She arched her hips, tried to push against it. Ugh, she wanted to propel past this without examining the reasons why.

"How long?"

Damn him. "Three years." It had been one of the few limits she set in her contractual negotiations with the Doms. She carried most of her scars there, but the memories cut much deeper.

The rubber tip moved away, and he lowered his body over her back. The heavy weight of him pressed her into the bed, suffocating and wonderfully comforting.

His breath was warm and steady at her ear. "I'm not going to hurt you there like he did, even if you think that's what you need. No figging-"

She bucked, wanting the burn from the ginger. Needing it.

"Now hang on a minute. I've never done this, and you're obviously trying to speed past a painful barrier. That's not the right approach, Charlee."

Acid turned through her gut. It would tear and bleed, but she wanted proof that nothing could hurt her anymore. "I don't want to talk about this."

He stroked the hair from her face, his fingers lingering on her jaw. "Shh. I know. We'll ease into it."

Those gentle fingers were influential things. They fluttered over her cheek, lulling, mastering the strain of her muscles until her face was slack with gravity.

The mattress bounced, and his weight lifted. The rub of leather rustled through his movements around the bed. His palm slipped under her belly, lifting. Soft plastic, a rubber ball by the feel of it, pressed against her clit. In the next breath, it filled the room with a loud buzz and shot a jolt of vibration through her pussy.

"Hitachi wand. Best clit stimulator from what I'm told."

No fucking shit. She pulled her hips up to escape it. His hand caught her waist and pressed her back down.

Oh God, it was so overwhelming, everything below her waist was beginning to numb. Which might've explained why she didn't notice the plug easing into her ass until he popped it past the ring of muscle.

Ahhhh. No pain. Only a heavenly tingle and a dominating sense of fullness. Never had pleasure accompanied anything penetrating her ass. Was this what it was supposed to feel like?

The buzz of the wand increased that pleasure, winding her tighter and tighter. Her arousal concentrated, contracting, building. "Jay. Fuck. Oh God."

His hands caressed her ass, her back, and paused to knead her shoulders. His lips followed the same path until they veered off and met hers. He licked her gaping mouth, circled his tongue inside. "Come, Charlee. Come, now."

It was there, teetering, ready to spill. She rocked against the powerful whir of the wand and clenched the muscles in her ass, reaching, straining- Whack.

Pain zapped across the back of her thigh and all the air rushed from her lungs in a surge of body-stunned pleasure. An immense feeling of elation swam through her, ripping away everything except the trembling bliss taking over her body and the man consuming her mouth. It arched her back, emptied her thoughts, and weighted her limbs. So fucking good. Better than any before it. The best sensation she'd ever experienced. She floated through it, fevered and sated.

The vibrator clicked off, and he rose on his knees. "Ready for another?"

Jesus. She panted, lost to the residual tremors tickling through her body.

The ties at her ankles loosened, released. His arms came around her torso, flipping her, the rope crossing above her head.

"So you liked the garden pole? Should've started with that, hmm?" He smiled down at her looking pretty damned pleased with himself. As he should've been. He'd rocked her. Hard.

"The pole pushed me over-I can't believe your aim was that good considering you were kissing me when you swung."

His smile widened. "The pole has a nice reach."

"Well done, but the sensual build-up was what got me there. You...uh...really know how to make a high-maintenance girl feel loved."

The gold in his brown eyes sparked. "Only you, Charlee. And you're not high-maintenance. In fact, now that I've gone through orientation, I'm about to show you how easy it is to service you." He reached a hand between her legs and put pressure on the plug.

She dropped her legs open, gasping.

"Yeah, you're ready for round two."

Round two rolled into three, and four, and hell, she lost count. Her anger with him had deserted her with the first orgasm, giving way to adoration. He trussed her up in various positions, nipple clamps dangling, ice pellets melting in her pussy. She begged him to stop, to keep going, harder, slower. Mostly, she begged him to fuck her. He ignored her pleas with a snap of the drumstick on her breast or the wave of the cheese grater. Like that was a threat.

As each orgasm faded, she swore she couldn't reach another. He pushed her until she lay slumped over the hard ridges of his body, both of them smothered in sweat and exhaustion.

Free of the binds, she stretched a hand between them and gripped his erection through his pants. For two hours, she'd watched it stretch his fly, waiting for it to rip a hole through the leather. "Your turn."

He grabbed her wrist and removed her hand. "No. This is my penance."

The break in his voice undid her. "Jay, please. You don't need-"

"Let it be, Charlee." He pulled her further up his chest and cupped her head against his throat.

The blend of pain and pleasure he'd gifted her exceeded her expectations, but that wasn't what freed the things that had been tightening her chest for so damn long. He'd given her something that wasn't easy for him to give and he'd done so without taking.