Raw Ch. 06

As his cock entered me, I cried tears of joy. My hands pressed against his chest now, supporting my body over his. I rocked back and forth in such a slow motion it was excruciating. I relished it. The feeling of his hips between my knees. My ass rubbing along the tops of this thighs. His cock pulsing inside me.

"Breasts," I panted.

"With pleasure," Malcolm growled.

I cried more as his warm hands circled and massaged my globes. As his fingers rolled my nipples and sent little jolts of electricity down to where we were joined. I arched so far forward into his touch that he slipped out of me. I whimpered while I positioned him again and slid back down his shaft.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on moving my hips so he pressed the right spots. Leaning forward so my clit rubbed against his cock as my pussy unsheathed him. Gripping the pillow on either side of his head for better support.

"Touch." I could speak no other words I was in such a natural state of euphoria. But he knew and needed no other direction.

His hands caressed my sides. His tongue on my nipple made me gasp. He licked and kissed and nipped at one and then the other. He moved to stroke my back as I leaned forward, pressing my breasts to his chest. Our lips met, tentatively at first and then with increased pressure as we tried to sate the hunger inside both of us.

I could not get over the pleasure of his cock stroking in and out of me. Stretching me. Filling me. Pushing me toward the edge where I longed to reach once again.

I gasped as his hands gripped my ass and held me still, his hips arching up into me as his self-control slipped a little. I didn't care. I struggled to understand how one man could make me feel like there was nothing else in this life but him. Regardless of whether or not we were having sex. His mere presence surrounded me, filled me.

"Becca," Malcolm kept whispering.

The precipice was calling to me. I knew it was calling to him. I had accomplished what I'd desired. It would take time to feel completely safe, but I could withstand a man touching me. Inside me. And not just any man. My man.

"Make love to me," I whimpered.

Strong arms wrapped around me, rolled me onto my back. He swallowed my cries as his cock slid home time and time again. His fingers buried in my hair. His chest rubbed against mine. Then his arm hooked under my right knee and he pressed even deeper inside me until our guttural sounds mixed into a beautiful chorus only the two of us knew.

I screamed his name. He continued on.

Our bodies were slick with sweat, and I gripped his shoulders as I felt him shake above me. Another orgasm racked my body as he came, his face buried against my neck, muffling the sounds of my name.

We lay as a mass of tangled limbs gasping for breath. His body weighted mine down, but I did not panic. I inhaled the familiar scent of him, his sweat and lingering sandalwood cologne. I cooed as he placed soft caresses all over my body.

A tear trickled down my cheek as I realized I'd done it. Trivial as some think it may be, I'd faced a huge fear head-on and come out victorious. I really could do this.

###

It was mid-day, and we had not moved from the bed. We had not made love again, but he had pleasured me with his fingers while he kissed me languidly. I'd tried to stroke him again, but he would have none of that. So I lay there on my back with his fingers buried between my legs. Occasionally, he'd rub his thumb against my clit, and my body would buck with aftershocks.

My head lolled against his shoulder. I pressed my lips against his warm skin, tasting the saltiness of the lingering sweat as a result of our coitus. I could not think of a happier time in my life than this.

His hand had stilled, giving me some respite. We were both quiet for awhile. I rolled into his body and curled up against him, thinking he had fallen asleep. But his lips brushed my forehead.

"Malcolm, what took you so long at the bar?" I tilted my head back to see him watching me.

He pulled the sheets tighter around us and kissed my forehead again. "Does it matter now?"

I bit my lower lip and nodded before I changed my mind. I needed to know how I got my happy ending.

He pressed his cheek to my head and sighed. "It was stupid."

"How so?"

"I ran into someone I used to know. He wanted some information. When I got outside, you were gone. I thought maybe you had changed your mind and come back in for the bathroom. Sue checked, but you weren't there, either. Drake and Daphne went to your house in case you had caught a cab. Damn the police, but they said they couldn't start an investigation until you'd been missing for forty-eight hours."

I ran my fingers over his shoulder, feeling the muscles flex there. I heard his voice catch, as if he were holding back tears. As hard as this all was on me, I had forgotten that I wasn't the only one affected. Which made me tear up, too. How could I have been so selfish?

"I couldn't eat or sleep for those first two days. Were you hurt? Dead? We didn't know who would take you. A crazy fan? A random psycho? Then after the police got involved, it was harder to function because they didn't move fast enough." His arms tightened around me as tremors shook his body. "God, you gave us all such a scare. I've never felt so helpless in my life. I don't ever want to feel like that again."

I kissed his chest. "Me, either."

"All that time, you were..."

I shuddered.

He rolled me onto my stomach before my mind wandered to where I didn't want it to go. I cooed as his cock nestled into my folds instead. He adjusted my legs so I was kneeling, then he gently rocked back and forth while he continued.

"We had already tried to track your phone with the Mobile Locate app. Drake said he'd insisted you download it. But we lost the signal before they could pinpoint the exact location. Your battery must have died. We tried to get a deeper investigation going, but the police told us they did not have the manpower to follow that lead at the time because they were preparing for The Taste."

Malcolm's hand danced across my hip, my side, and finally to my breast. I clutched the sheet, trying to keep myself grounded so I could hear him over my moans.

"So we held a press conference, and a reporter asked if we would sue the city. That got the mayor's attention. We were trying to convince the police to do a canvas around where your phone last pinged a tower when we got the call that you were at the hospital."

I shivered. I wanted to be mad at the police for not stepping up sooner. But would they have even found me in that room? If Brian hadn't been so high, he wouldn't have removed the restraints. And I would haven't been able to get free from the house.

I cried out as Malcolm hit my G-spot.

"Enough about that. Back to you, my dear. You're safe now. You don't have to be afraid anymore."

He placed soft kisses along my back. He continued stroking until I bucked against him and rode out my orgasm. I was so focused on his words, I hadn't even thought about the position I'd been in.

He lay behind me afterwards, breathing hard as I told him what I had told the psychiatrist. What I could recall about my abduction and imprisonment and torture. What my fears were about our relationship. It helped that I wasn't looking at his face. I don't think I would have been able to get all of the words out if I'd seen his expression.

When I was done, he rolled me to face him and held my chin so he was staring into my eyes, his own eyes glossy with unshed tears. "Becca, honey, I do not think any lesser of you because of what happened. I am proud of you for fighting. Please do not think that this situation has diminished my feelings for you in any way. If anything, it has made them stronger. I love you so much."

"I love you, too." The last word came out as a sob as I wrapped my arms around his neck.

We held each other's shaking body. We cried. We kissed away each other's tears. And I chalked it up to yet another small victory in this battle to heal myself.

###

It took another month before I was comfortable enough to relinquish complete control to Malcolm. To go beyond vanilla sex again. The next time he tried doggy-style, I did tense up and told him to stop. I knew it was coming. But he talked me through it until I was comfortable enough to try again.

I wanted to overcome that fear, especially as it was one of his favorite positions. I've heard it's a favorite position of most men. I'd rather see his face and feel his cock rubbing against my clit in missionary style. But we were both flexible.

When we'd escalated to having kinky sex, I'd insisted on no restraints. For now. I won't deny that I said the safe word more than a few times. And I wasn't ashamed that I ended up in a ball of tears even more afterwards. I'd never met someone so patient.

We had spent the last week visiting his special room. He just stood behind me rubbing my shoulders as he told me what he had done—what he would do—with each contraption or tool. It was similar to the day he'd found me in here wearing just panties and his T-Shirt, except it was his voice and not my own in my head. That seemed so long ago. As aroused as I would get, all we did was look in that room so far.

He'd also introduced me to a new song called "Madness" by Muse. He knew how much music was an aphrodisiac to me, but we'd agreed to hold off on using Enigma for awhile. I couldn't relax when I heard their music, as much as I still loved them. The rhythm and melody of the new song helped, and the lyrics seemed fitting to our relationship. In fact, it became routine to start each session with it.

I was usually the first one to get up in the morning. He said that he waited for me so I'd never feel alone or afraid when I woke. The nightmares had finally ceased. Yet he continued the routine. I think he enjoyed watching me sleep.

But this morning, his side of the bed was empty. And cold. As if he'd been up quite a long time.

I sat up, looking around as I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand. The clock said it was past ten. I threw back the covers and sat up, chastising myself because I'd be late for my therapy appointment in thirty minutes. Why hadn't Malcolm woken me?

I was brushing my teeth when I picked up the encouraging day-by-day calendar we kept by the sink. He'd bought it to help me, and it had become my normal routine to read it each morning. I spit out the toothpaste and slammed the toothbrush on the counter. Well, shit. It was Saturday. I was already up. I should probably try to locate my boyfriend.

I didn't notice the box at first. It was perched on the leather bench at the end of the bed, and the color blended in with the mustardy-yellow blanket that was folded beneath it. It was the shiny, silver ribbon that caught my eye.

Sitting back in bed, I pulled the bedclothes around my waist and set the box on my lap. I fingered the ribbon, my heartbeat steadily increasing. There was nothing to be afraid of anymore. Right?

My breathing was rapid as I finally tugged at the ends of the bow and lifted the lid. I parted the sheets of black tissue paper. And then it was really hard to breathe as I took in the contents.

A black-and-red bustier made of leather and lace stared up at me. With matching black, silk panties trimmed in red lace. And a black garter belt with stockings. Tucked in around the lingerie was a pair of black heels.

I almost missed the envelope I was so busy trying to calm myself. Inside was a card that read:

'Sir Malcolm requests the pleasure of Lady Becca's company in the Black Room at her leisure.'

I gulped several times, glancing around the bedroom again. We'd stuck to his bed while easing back into our roles. My fingers twitched as I ran them over the various textures I'd spread out around me. Was I ready for this? He thought I was. I had to trust him. It was the next step forward.

Then another thought stole my breath. How long had the box been sitting there?

I quickly stripped from his T-shirt I'd worn to bed the night before. I'd been tired, and we had just lain in each others arms. That shirt had become a comfort to me. A security blanket of sorts. I hated it when he insisted on washing it. But now, I flung it aside without care and changed into the lingerie.

It seemed to take too long to pull my hair back into a single braid. But soon enough, I was standing outside the closed door to the special room. The Black Room as we'd recently dubbed it. My heart beat out a cadence in my head, and my hand shook as I reached for the handle.

"Welcome, Lady Becca," Malcolm said as the door swung open.

My legs didn't seem to want to move. I kept telling myself that I was safe. Finally, my brain connected with my feet, and I entered his domain. I kept my eyes forward, but I heard his growl of approval. The click of the door as it closed again. His heavy breathing behind me.

He stepped to my side. His fingers trailed down my cheek, gently turning my chin so I was facing him. His thumb rubbed my lips until I parted them. I felt the digit tremble as he pressed it into my mouth. I suppressed the desire to lick it, to moan at what such a simple touch could do to me.

Then his touch was gone. I wobbled on my feet, thankful when his hand took mine. Yet my stomach fluttered as he led me to the modified kneeler. I glanced at him, confused, when he stopped me on the side where he usually stood. But then I understood as he leaned me forward so the top padded bar pressed against my belly.

"Use the safe word if you are uncomfortable at any time," his voice whispered in my ear as he squatted beside me.

I nodded, unable to speak as I watched him secure my wrists to the sides of the metal, upright portion of the kneeler. To my legs, he affixed a spreader bar between my ankles. His hands massaged my back as he stepped behind me again.

I wasn't sure what to be prepared for. This was a new trick, and something inside of me tensed at the unknown. But his touch calmed me, and I repeated a mantra in my head to relax, to enjoy. And I would hold out as long as possible despite my fears.

Something soft trailed up the back of my legs. Goosebumps prickled the exposed skin between the edge of my stockings and my pantyline. Suddenly, I clenched my fists. The welts Brian had caused had long healed save for a single scar on the back of my right thigh. But the touch on that precise area made my resolve waver.

"Are you okay, Lady Becca?"

I started to nod but remembered to say, "Yes, Sir Malcolm."

"Good."

I couldn't stop the shriek when something slapped my bare skin on my left leg.

"Shh."

Shit. I reminded myself that he was Malcolm, not Brian. He was not going to hurt me. I bit my lip and was prepared when the object connected with my other leg.

Eventually, I relaxed as he created a rhythm of stroke, stroke, slap, slap. He must have been alternating between the feather and leather floggers. The tension in me turned to arousal. Then as suddenly as it had started, the flogging stopped.

There was no sound except my heavy breathing for the longest time. Then our song started. I closed my eyes and let the music seduce me. I gasped as fingers played over the fabric between my legs before they tugged my panties to the side.

"I need to mention something, Lady Becca," Malcolm growled, his fingers wrapping around my braid. He nipped at my neck. "One little topic where there will be no discussion."

I gulped, the safe word on my tongue as he tapped his cock against first one butt cheek and then the other. As he rubbed the tip against my bared pussy and slid it all the way back through the folds. After what I'd been through? How dare he! I wasn't ready! I didn't think I'd ever be ready for—

"There will be no more talk about spending too much time together. When we get back to Illinois, you're moving in with me. That is final." He tugged on my braid. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir Malcolm!" I almost passed out with relief as he thrust hard into my pussy.

"Good. Now be a good girl and don't come until I tell you."

~ H