Bound Obsession (BDSM Erotica) (Club Taboo Book 1) (8 page)

Chapter 9

Abigail’s eyes blinked around the feel of a cool cloth running up and down her face. Struggling to focus, she slowly realized that she was back in Patrick’s bed. The blankets were tucked against her chin, and when she was able to see clearly, Patrick was there, wiping the sweat from her brow. As her eyes widened, she took note of his bruises, and she shot up, her only thought to cradle him close.

“Oh my God!” she cried out. “I’m so sorry. Patrick---”

“It’s nothing,” he assured her. “Nothing I can’t handle. But…”

Taking her battered face in his hands, Patrick brought his lips close to hers. She was ready for his kiss, longed to feel his mouth on hers, but he stopped short, and his sigh hit her eyes.

“But if that prick putting his hands on you… that’s too much.”

Abigail looked into his eyes. She barely believed that she was back, but when she touched his face, she smiled and started to kiss him. Their lips nearly met when she pulled back as a million questions fired in her brain.

“Why… how did you find me?” she asked.

Patrick stroked her face with a sigh.

“I thought you’d go back,” he confessed. “I didn’t want you to, but I didn’t think that you’d have anywhere else to go.”

The truth of that was beyond shameful, and Patrick had called it. She started to pull away from him, but Patrick was not letting her go. As she looked into his eyes, she could not detect a trace of judgment. If anything there was only relief that he had her back in his arms, in his bed.

“Why?” she finally choked out.

“Why not?” Patrick asked as he rested his head to her brow. Patrick’s eyes remained fixed on hers, not blinking. Try as she might, Abigail had never been able to forget the force of his gaze as it penetrated her stare, and she wanted that to be enough. He had saved her again, and she shouldn’t question any set of circumstances that returned her to his orbit.

But how long would it last? The bottom could fall out from under her feet at any second, and she had to know where she stood.

“Tell me,” Abigail whispered. “I need to know.”

Sighing, Patrick dragged his kiss across his cheek, and her body buzzed when his lips pressed against her ear.

“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

His words were like a balm soothing her aching heart, and as Abigail longed to believe it, to believe in him, she still hesitated to wrap her arms around his neck.

“And when I saw you with Ross…”

Patrick’s voice trailed off into a shadow of pain, and she danced her fingers upon his cheek and pressed him to finish his thought.

“Oh, Abigail.”

Folding her into his arms, Abigail rested her head to his chest and blinked back tears as he tenderly stroked her hair.

“It’s why I had you followed,” Patrick continued. “Because if something ever happened to you…”

Looking up as he still held her close, Abigail could see a faraway look swirl into his steel blue eyes, and she knew that he was thinking about someone else.

“I… I think that I remind you of someone,” she dared.

“Abigail---”

“Just tell me. Please.”

Patrick’s body grew tense, but he took a deep breath and spoke in soft, sharp tones.

“The long and short? I’ve fallen in love in the back rooms before.”

Taking his hand, Abigail just knew that this night was not the first time that he had been in competition with Walter Ross.

“Did he hurt her, too?”

His glare seemed to tell the tale, and she was on the verge of understanding his every move. She pictured his lost lover not making it out alive and Mistress Serena having to cover it up in service of her dark reputation. Of course he would fear for her, but then he placed his hand on her shoulder and spoke swiftly.

“He did,” Patrick said. “And she liked it more than she liked me.”

She was stunned by what he said. How could anyone prefer Walter Ross’ brutal brand of pain to his sweet touch? But this was what Walter was alluding to when he accused Patrick of being unable to handle the scene. When he called her lover soft.

“So she picked him,” Patrick said. “And last I heard she was in a place so deep that there was no way out.”

Abigail shuddered at the thought that had he not intervened, it could have so easily been her. Dragged from the backroom to some private dungeon until she was sold into the worst kind of servitude. And she understood the mixture of jealousy and horror that made him follow her while she was with him and into tonight.

“But then how could you ever let me go?” she asked.

His hold grew tighter, and she trembled in his embrace, her body only calming when he spoke through the kisses that he ran across her face.

“I don’t even know,” Patrick admitted. “All that matters is that I got you back.”

Pulling the blankets away, he laid her out carefully and sighed when he had her naked under his eyes, Abigail was determined to not let him down. Maybe she had gone back to the club, but it was before she had the chance to see him clearly. And even a few minutes with Walter Ross was enough to assure her that she would never throw Patrick over for something else. Because there was no one else that she wanted.

“Do I have you back?” he asked in a determined tone.

She managed to nod, and he brought his kiss to her quivering ankles. As his mouth ensnared her limbs, his lips intensified over her flesh, and she started to touch his back as his breath wafted towards her cunt. He kissed her there, and Abigail moaned as his tongue darted in and out of her wet walls. Despite the need and the truth that he had voiced, Patrick was still in command as he teased her to the point of her desire dripping down his throat, but every time she was about to shower him with her lust, Patrick settled for the soft flesh of her thighs. Caressing his neck, longing for him to do more, Abigail wanted a way to make him believe that this was for real and never ending. As she turned her head to the side, Abigail saw the whip that he had yet to crack against her flesh, and she wanted to know the sensation burning against her back.

She wanted his mark, his brand on her flesh.

“You do,” Abigail said.

Struggling up, she fought against her quaking cunt and kissed him hard. Patrick melted into her mouth, and when she felt the chance to escape the embrace that she wanted most, Abigail scrambled away from him.

“Wait! What are you---?”

Clutching the handle, Abigail cracked the whip awkwardly and flinched at the sound. Pushing towards the edge of the bed, Patrick’s confused eyes morphed into doubt, but when his stare lingered on her bare breasts and moved towards her waiting cunt, he lifted his eyebrows and gave her a tentative smirk.

“You don’t have to do this,” Patrick said.

“But don’t you want to teach me, Mr. Dorson?”

His mouth said
no
, but his eyes told her that he wanted the chance to bring her to new heights and give her no chance of leaving.

“Abigail…”

Standing to face her, his fingers ran down her arm and mingled with the handle. Abigail swayed forward and pressed the whip deeper into his palm. Her soul brimmed with need as she helped him lift the whip so that the leather grazed against her legs.

“Show me what you can do to me,” Abigail whispered.

Patrick took the whip and seemed more than tempted. Stretching to the tips of her toes, she let him turn her back to the bed.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Because after what happened tonight---”

She silenced him with another kiss and batted her lashes.

“I’m sure of you, Mr. Dorson.”

He sat her down on the bed and fell to his knees. Kissing her thighs, she stroked his neck and whispered her desire and consent. As he lifted his head, he seemed on the verge of giving into her demand, but as he scanned her face and touched the spaces that Walter Ross had bruised, he started to shake his head.

“Not tonight,” he said. “It’s too soon.”

“No it’s not,” she protested. “I want you to suffer for you---”

“That’s not what this---”

“So that I can show you that I’ll stay. No matter what.”

Patrick relinquished some of his hold, and Abigail settled back against the sheets and waited. She saw him swallow hard and lift the whip. She could neatly feel the lash on her skin, but then he fell to the bed and gripped her shoulders.

“Then turn over,” he purred.

Obeying his orders, Abigail buried her face into the pillow and listened as he circled the bed, snapping the whip every few seconds. Each crack brought a swell to her pussy, and as much as she wanted to make this work for him, for both of them, if he didn’t strike her soon, now, she felt as if she would burst into his arms and send him flying into the wall with the force of her eager mouth. But she struggled to maintain her poise, grinding her nails into the bed sheets. Abigail didn’t think that she hold out for another minute and---

“Oh!”

He finally landed the first blow.

It was nothing and everything that she had expected. Her body burned, but the quivers creeping across her flesh made her forget the pain. Licking her lips, she started to ask for more when he answered her unspoken cry with another sharp hit.  Abigail cringed for a spilt second, but then she smiled as her body absorbed the lash, and as she started to moan for more Patrick literally beat her to the punch and snapped the whip to her back in a series of careful strikes. He did not give her the chance to ask for a pause, and Abigail wouldn’t have even if she had the chance. The lash of the whip was making her weak, but her heart was intensifying. This was the best way, the only way to have him, and when she finally found her voice, Abigail begged to know, to feel more, and he flipped her to her back. She shuddered for all of a second, but then she saw his flashing eyes, the steaming whip in his hands, and Abigail lowered her lashes and murmured for more.

“Then spread your legs.”

The invitation nearly scared her off, but now that she knew his skill with the leather, Abigail could not resist the chance that he would singe her pussy with something that might rival his cock.

“I’m not sure if you can take this,” he said as he brought the whip behind his head. But when he was on the verge of dropping it, she cried out.

“No, Patrick!”

He hesitated but before he could lose the whip and leave her in total despair, she stretched up to finish her thought.

“Give me all of you,” she begged. “And I promise that I won’t run---”

Patrick cracked the whip into her cunt. She fought against the pain as he slammed the leather into her again, but he always drew back before her pussy burst. Still the swelling grew with each strike, and he stopped hitting and pushed the leather inside her, Abigail imagined his cock and clenched her muscles around the whip. It hurt, but she reveled in the pain as her juices coated the lash. As her body writhed forward to meet his eyes, she saw his stare expanding with hope, and Abigail finally flung her arms around his neck, and she moaned into his shoulder.

“I like it,” she whispered. “I swear I do.”

He tore the whip away and pushed his cock to her body. Her slick, wet walls took him in like the edge of the whip, and she expected him to thrust and shred her.

But Patrick lingered inside her, taunting her flesh as he pushed her back to the pillows, his hands playing around her face.

“I believe you, Abigail.”

He kissed her slowly, and Abigail didn’t know which touch she wanted more, his mouth or his cock. He didn’t thrust, and she started to push against him. But he stopped her with a new kiss, and she slipped to his side and touched his broad chest.

“I missed you,” Patrick whispered.

“I missed you more.”

Abigail’s entire body was on fire as he held her close. At the start of this day, she never could have dreamed that she would make her way back to him, but now that she had him so close, she was never going to turn her head again. He could whip her body raw. Patrick would always hold her afterwards, and it was enough.

No. It was more than she had ever expected.

“Abigail?”

She looked into his eyes and smiled when he brushed his hand across her face.

“This is me,” he started. “All of me. And… and if it’s too much---”

“It’s not!” she said. “I want---”

“But if it’s not enough…”

“It’s more than enough,” she said. “It’s everything.”

She kissed him and felt free. It was too long without him, and now that she had him back, the world came into focus. He would not leave her, and she would never let him go.

“I’m glad to hear you say that, Abigail.”

His cock started to turn inside her, and she moaned at the prospect of having him. But he suddenly stopped and took her face in his hands.

“If you’re really saying yes, I’m moving you back in here this second. And this time there will be no escape.”

It sounded threatening, and Abigail nearly bowed her head. But then she looked up and stroked his face.