Bound to Submit (Miami Masters Book 4) Page 5

Hope didn’t look up at him when she said, “I’m wondering why the pain doesn’t turn her off.” Or me either.

  “It’s easier if you accept some people get off on it, and some don’t, without trying to explain it or find a good reason for it. If it works for you, go with it, if it doesn’t, try something else.”

  “You make it sound easy.” Doubt colored her tone.

  He raised her face with two fingers under her chin. “It can be, with the right person.” Dipping his thumb inside her lower lip, he pulled it down, his black gaze focused on her face as he skimmed over the soft, wet tissues.

  Hope imagined him doing the same thing to the sensitive nerve endings lining her pussy and a curl of want unfurled between her legs. She swallowed hard before taking a step back. Miles released her lip and took hold of her elbow again, steering her down the row until they came to a woman gyrating on a dildo attached in the center of a mechanical vault. The brunette’s soft mewls and tight grip on the pommel revealed her distress as the Dom standing at her side flicked a short leather strap on one, bright crimson nipple; the glistening dampness left on the condom-covered phallus each time she rose up proving she enjoyed his painful ministrations.

  “You’re blushing but imagine how that would feel vibrating inside you as you bounced on it, maybe with someone slapping your ass as you ride it.” Miles’ gaze swept down to her chest and she didn’t have to follow his eyes to know he saw the rigid outline of her painfully erect nipples through her bra and top. “Are you sure you’ve never submitted before?”

  Those probing eyes rose so fast to Hope’s face, Miles must’ve caught her look of surprise and cocked his head, waiting for her to answer. Since her goal was to stay clear of getting involved with him, she thought it best not to tempt fate by lying. “Once, years ago. It didn’t end well.” She didn’t elaborate and explain it was what transpired after she’d left that club that ended so badly, not her first spanking, which had brought about her most intense orgasm to date.

  Before he could insist she explain further, she said, “I’m ready to go now. If you want to stay, I can find my way out.” She ignored the pang around her chest when she imagined him hooking up with someone else.

  “Let’s go.”

  Miles practically dragged her to the exit and out to her car. Stumbling behind him, she hopped on one foot as she slipped her sandal on the other while trying to keep up with him. “You don’t say much, but you sure as hell move fast when something’s bugging you,” she grumbled.

  He whipped around when they reached her car and snatched her keys to unlock it. “You shouldn’t play around with things that aren’t safe.”

  “You just told me this club was safe,” she chided him, bemused by his reaction.

  “Go home and behave, Hope,” he growled before narrowing his eyes to black slits. “Or stick around and face the consequences.”

  Hope slid behind the wheel before she could cave to the temptation to do just that. Visions of herself draped over his lap filled her head, and if she wasn’t mistaken, he wouldn’t have a problem administering a heated spanking sure to fire her up like the last one. Starting her car, she said, “Thanks for the tour.”

  “Be at class Thursday. We’ll discuss the fee later.”

  She shook her head as Miles stomped over to his truck. Her lower lip still tingled from his caress and her pulse still beat in rapid response from envisioning herself riding that dildo while he swatted her butt. It was obvious he was as tempted by her as she was by him, and that he, too, was fighting getting involved. At least they were on the same page there, she mused as she drove home, wondering what excuse she could come up with for not showing up to the next self-defense class.

  Miles drove home, keeping a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel while cursing himself for behaving like the pussy-whipped saps he’d had fun accusing Zach, Dax and Jackson of being. One look into Hope’s need-drenched blue eyes and he’d succumbed to the temptation to see how she’d react to a close-up view of the scenes she’d shown the most interest in. The automatic shift of her body closer to his at the spanking bench stripped him of what little sanity he had left and the next thing he knew he was touching that tempting mouth while imagining those soft, lush lips wrapped around his cock.

  I’m a fucking idiot. Calling himself names felt good but did nothing to change the facts. Keeping his distance from Hope Wallace was getting more difficult by the day, and there wasn’t a damned thing he could do about it. He refused to stop looking out for her safety, even if he did fear where his growing obsession would lead him. Other than his strong feelings for his friends and Ed, the only other person he’d ever cared about had been his mother. He didn’t need to hear Sean’s psychological evaluation to admit to the anger that still consumed him over his failure to protect her.

  Pulling behind the gym, Miles cut the engine as he noticed the light shining in Ed’s window. His chest filled with warmth and he wondered if the old man would ever stop waiting up for him when he was out. Ed had taken him in when Miles had been at his worst, and he still found himself grateful for the way they’d first met.

  One minute, fifteen-year-old Miles was trying to figure out how to get by the old man without hurting him, and the next he found himself flat on his back with the breath knocked out of him and seeing stars on the ceiling.

  “You’ve got two choices, boy. Learn to fight the right way, for the right reasons with the right people, or I call the cops.”

  He glared at the old man standing over him. He’d broken into the gym looking to rob the place. But now his mother’s soft voice filled his head, her whispered words, ‘I raised you to be different than him. Don’t let me down, Miles,’ coming back to bite him on the ass because he had let her down. Not only had he failed to protect her from his bastard of a father, but he had let his grief and anger consume him to the point he’d forgotten those words in the past few months since her death.

  Rising shakily to his feet, he knew if the gang members he’d started hanging with every time he ran away from a foster home discovered he’d been picked up by the cops after failing this test, they’d come after him next time. More for the old man’s sake than his own, he snapped, “No cops.”

  “Then let’s get you something to eat and a place to sleep.”

  Miles slid out of his truck, still able to marvel all these years later at how easy it had been to let Ed take charge of him. His father’s death may have been ruled self-defense, but when Ed petitioned the courts to grant him guardianship, they’d only agree if Miles first attended the camp for juvenile delinquents where he’d met and bonded with the other guys. The three months he’d spent under the rigorous, strict supervision of parole officers and ex-cons had turned out to be a cake-walk compared to the grueling schedule and strenuous task of learning the Martial Arts under Ed Tarrington’s tutelage.

  “Aren’t I a little old to come home at night and have you waiting up for me?” he asked Ed as Miles leaned against the open door to Ed’s rooms and eyed his mentor with a sardonic look. Sitting in a recliner with a book propped on his stomach, Ed shook his head.

  “You’re never too old to have someone who cares enough to do so, boy. How’s your girl tonight?” Ed tossed him a shrewd look as he lowered his feet to the floor and set his novel on the end table.

  “She’s not my girl and she’s fine.” Considering the semi-erect state of his cock, Hope was most likely better off than he was at that moment. “Can I get you anything before I turn in?”

  “Now who’s hovering?” Ed grumbled.

  “You’re never too old…”

  Waving an arthritic hand, Ed snapped, “Yeah, yeah. Get out of here. I’m tired.”

  “Good-night, Ed.” Shaking his head, Miles strolled to the elevator. They’d always sparred as much verbally as physically, and he never knew which he preferred most. Thirty minutes later, he fell asleep wondering if Hope would show up for class on Thursday, and what he would do if she didn’t.

  She di
dn’t, and he’d had a few days to decide what to do, and just how far he was willing to push his intentions to keep her safe. Miles had let few people matter to him since the night of his parents’ deaths. His actions, the eruption of his pent-up anger that had given him the strength and determination to deliver a death blow to the man who had sired him, forced him to keep a tight lock on his emotions. The scar marring one side of his face was a constant reminder of the brutality of the man whose blood he shared, and the last mark Dave Cavenaugh had ever put on Miles. The childhood traumas each of his six friends had endured made bonding with them easy over the years, and Ed’s ultimatum had been a no-brainer at the time.

  Miles had never come close to losing the tight rein he managed to keep on his volatile temper whenever he saw signs of abuse on a woman or child until he’d set eyes on Hope’s bruised face. The instant, crushing response he’d experienced that day still worried him as he hadn’t felt that strongly toward the suffering of anyone since his mother. Like a sucker-punch to his gut, the urge to retaliate sent a wave of impotent fury through him. Whether it was the wholesome, innocent appeal of her blonde-haired, blue-eyed, soft face or the determined glint in those eyes to protect an innocent woman she’d befriended that continued to pull at him with such strong tugs, he didn’t know. The only thing he knew for certain as he watched his friends’ girls going through the warm-ups with Dean’s instructions and she wasn’t among the small group, was that his need to keep her safe continued to grow, along with his desire to bend her to his sexual demands.

  A fucking potent combination he found himself powerless to ignore after witnessing her interest at Chains last weekend and hearing she’d already dipped her toes into the lifestyle and had come back for more. Determined to get his point across about her vulnerability to future threats to her safety, he prayed the course of action he was about to take wouldn’t backfire on him.

  Miles strode across the gym to Ed, who stood between a ring where two members sparred and a mat where another two were practicing jujutsu. The practice of using pins, joint locks and throws to defeat an armed opponent was precisely what the women needed to learn to ensure they could get away from any attacker, armed or not.

  “I need to leave for a bit. Are you okay here if I don’t get back before closing?”

  Ed flicked him one of his derisive looks. “I was running this place six days a week before you took over, boy.”

  “Yes, but you’re supposed to be enjoying retirement now. Be back shortly.”

  “Kinda early to be guarding your girl’s place, isn’t it?”

  “She’s not my girl,” Miles replied without looking back or slowing his steps as he headed toward the exit.

  Since it was still shy of 6:00 p.m., Miles knew Hope would either be leaving from the rear parking lot of the shelter soon or returning to it from her evening bank run. Donations were dropped off at the reception desk throughout the day, and he’d learned her routine—that included daily deposits—from the pattern he’d developed in the past weeks of detouring by her place as often as possible. He couldn’t have timed it any better when she pulled in just as he stepped behind the large industrial dumpster in the alley. He had to give her credit for the way she cast a quick glance around the lot before getting out of her car but, as he was about to show her, being aware doesn’t always equal staying safe.

  Hope didn’t hear him approach, never sensed his presence inching up behind her until Miles locked an arm around her neck in a loose hold and pulled her back against him with his other hand over her mouth.

  He wasted no time whispering in her ear so as not to terrorize her. The frantic beat of her pulse under his arm was enough proof he’d caught her unawares and she realized how easily he’d done it. “Now what’re you going to do, Hope?”

  Chapter 4

  For one second, Hope was thrown back to six years ago and the stranglehold Craig surprised her with when she’d returned to her apartment the night of her bachelorette party. Then Miles’ deep voice broke through the roaring panic that brought her hands up to claw at his forearm and sent her heart up to lodge in her throat. As terror slid into confusion, then anger, she realized he wasn’t applying uncomfortable pressure against either her neck or her mouth. When she became aware of the hard press of his chest against her back, her buttocks against his groin and his thick quads against her soft hamstrings, her heart returned to a rapid beat, this time for an altogether different reason.

  “Try to get away from me, show me how you’d escape if I were a stranger intent on harming you.” He tightened his arm just a fraction, enough to force her nails into his arm in an automatic defense even though she knew he wouldn’t really hurt her. “Let’s see. You can’t scream, but I’m being nice. I’ve left your arms and legs free. Come on, Hope. Get away from me.”

  Didn’t he know what that growl in his voice did to her, how it made her insides quiver with longing instead of fear? She shook her head, refusing to play whatever game he was indulging in.

  “No? What if I do this?” He released her neck to reach down and squeeze her breast. “Now I’m issuing a new threat and you’re thinking I’m not just out to snatch your purse. What’re you going to do?”

  Heat shot in a straight arrow from her nipple down to her clit. Hope wanted to push against his hand, had an instant craving for a more intimate touch, for skin on skin contact with that rough palm. She’d known when he’d walked her out of Chains last week how desperate she was to scratch this itch he’d brought back to the surface after all this time, and for him to be the one ridding her of its plaguing irritation. And that was before she’d felt his hard strength surrounding her, his mouth so close to her ear. Again, she responded with a vigorous shake of her head, her only defense to deny him what he kept asking for.

  “Fuck but you’re stubborn. I can keep you standing here as long as it takes. Out in the open, while it’s still light enough we can be easily seen. Think I’m worried about someone calling the cops or rushing to your aid? Funny, I don’t see that threat to my nefarious intentions anywhere around. You’re very isolated back here, especially at this time of day.” He ended his verbal taunt with a nip on her earlobe, the little sting feeding the frenzy his nearness evoked inside her.

  Hope knew what Miles wanted to prove. If she struggled, he’d show her how easily he could deflect anything she did. If he would remove his hand, she would tell him she got the point, that she was woefully unprepared for an attack. But no, he was intent on making this difficult. So Hope opted to use passivity to get her point across; she wasn’t playing his game.

  “Still no? I can think of three, four ways you can use your hands or legs to get yourself free.” The gloating tone in his voice had her clawing at his arm again in frustration, this time digging into his skin with more force. His low chuckle raised goosebumps along her arms and increased her pulse, much to her annoyance. “That’s an amateur attempt. A few nail gouges on thick skin only adds to your attacker’s irritation.”

  In a move so rapid it sent her head spinning as fast as her body, Miles whipped her around and pinned her against the car, trapping her hands behind her with one of his and shackling her legs with one long leg braced across her shins. He slid his hand off her mouth and down to her throat, tilting her chin up with a nudge of his thumb. Hope’s eyes connected with his ebony gaze, and she struggled physically against the urge to succumb to the lust stamped on his rugged features. To her shock, her inability to disengage from his restraint sent a flash of hot pleasure spiraling through her body, pulling a gasp past her compressed lips.

  Groaning in defeat, she whispered, “What do you want from me, Miles?”

  “For you to stay safe, and the only way to do that is to give you what you went looking for the other night. You don’t know how to defend yourself, and now you insist on exploring your curiosity and interest in submission when there’s an abuser making the rounds in clubs all over the state. Let me take care of both of those things for you.” He released
her and stepped back before clasping her elbow and prodding her toward the back entrance into the shelter.

  Not a good idea. The common-sense side of her brain reminded Hope of all she risked losing if she got in so deep with Miles she chanced him discovering what happened in Atlanta. But her body continued to overrule her brain, like now, when the impersonal touch of his hand on her elbow zapped a lightning bolt of heat straight down to her core. Apparently, any skin-to-skin contact with him pleased her neglected, over-wrought senses. After those dormant needs lacked a response to other dominant men last weekend, she wondered which would be the biggest threat to her emotional well-being; not agreeing and never ridding herself of this obsession or finding out the people she now cared for were as shallow and unforgiving as the ones she’d known most of her life.

  Her answer slipped out as they reached the door and before she could over-think it. “How?”

  Miles had known he wouldn’t back down from leading her down this path the minute he wrapped his arms around Hope and discovered what a damned fine cushion her soft ass made for his cock. Then he’d filled his hand with her full breast and felt the stab of her erect nipple against his palm, her response to his heavy-handed tactic signaling his doom. “Let me show you what I can do for you, then decide.” Opening the door, he released her arm with one warning. “If you agree, Hope, remember one thing. I’m a sexually dominant man and will expect cooperation with my demands. I don’t play games or stick with a sub who continually balks at what I want from her.”

  “What if I don’t like what you’re doing, or suggesting?” she asked with a frown, her hands curling into fists of indecision.

  “You’ll always have the option of cutting things off with a word, whatever one you pick that’ll suffice as no. Think about it and I’ll call you tomorrow.” He turned to leave, but she halted his step, and his heart, with her soft reply.

  “Yes.”