Chapter 6
Jolie
“Now take off your clothes and wait here naked. I’m going to get my room ready,” he growls and storms out of the room.
I’m terrified, but at the same time oddly turned on. If my punishment was to spend all of my time with Dax, I would take it willingly. Not even twenty minutes later, he steps into the doorway.
“Stand up,” he orders and I scramble to my feet. He stalks over to me and I flinch. In a surprising mood, he scoops me up in an intimate move and carries me into his bedroom. Setting me down in front of the bed. His bed is huge and sits high off the ground, perfect for someone tall like him, but difficult for someone as short as me.
“Give me your hands,” he instructs me and I watch in fascination as he binds my wrists together with a thin rope. “Now bend over the bed so I can see your beautiful ass.”
I do as I’m told and stretch my bound hands out in front of me across the bed. He stalks around to the other side and threads more rope between my arms and fastens it on the rail. When I go to pull my hands to me, I realize they aren’t allowing for much movement at all. Panic suddenly seizes me, but when he comes back around to where I’m at and softly strokes my ass, I relax.
“Have you ever mixed pleasure with pain?” I feel his erection pressing against my bottom as he gently gathers my hair into his hand pulls it slowly back. My pussy throbs for him as I wait for his next move.
“He wasn’t into it,” I manage to breathe out.
“Are you into it?” he growls out his question.
“I’ve always wanted to be punished—by you.”
“Oh, sweet girl, then we’re going to have such fun because punishing you is all I have ever fucking thought about for fifteen long years.”
He moves aside, still clutching my hair, and I’m mourning the loss until I feel the sting of a slap on my ass cheek. His hand rubs the stinging area and slides down my backside to find my pussy. I moan as he strokes my clit and then slips two fingers into me. Just as I’m getting into it, he withdraws them and I’m stung from another slap.
“Oh!” I groan. When I try to bury my face into the blanket that smells like him, he pulls my head back by my hair.
“Too much, baby girl?” he asks and I can sense a little unease in his voice.
“No, not enough,” I assert, because truly it isn’t.
This time he swats me again and it tingles much more than before.
“Harder, Dax,” I provoke.
“It’s Slate.” Smack!
“I missed you so much, Dax.”
“Slate!” Smack! Smack!
“I’m so sorry, Dax.”
“Fucking Slate!” Smack! Smack! Smack!
I’m sobbing now and he rubs my bottom. Why can’t I rewind back to that night? If only I’d just waited for him our life would be perfect now.
“Say the safe word, Jolie,” he snaps.
“No!”
Smack!
“Say it, sweet girl. Please,” he begs and I can hear his voice full of emotion, but I refuse to give in. I need him to hurt me.
“I love you, Dax,” I choke out.
“Fuck you!” he snaps and tears himself away from me, storming from the room. I flinch when the door slams behind him. Toeing the edge of the bed, I hoist myself up farther so I’m not hanging off and fall asleep.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been sleeping but the room is dark and I can feel him freeing my hands from the rope. He lifts me in his arms and I am enveloped by his wonderful soapy scent, fresh from a shower. My eyes are swollen from crying and I just feel exhausted from it all. When he makes it into what’s going to be my room and starts to put me down, I latch my arms around his neck.
“Don’t,” he says softly, and I reluctantly let go so he can tuck me in. I’m already sobbing by the time I hear him shut the door.
“You better grab a shower soon or we’ll be late,” he says waking me up. I sit up and squint at him.
“Where is it?” I ask and slip out from under the covers. His eyes fall down my body, appreciating my curves along the way. It makes me hot for him, especially as he stands there in nothing but a hanging pair of pajama pants. My eyes try to look at each tattoo but there’s just so many to look at in one pass through.
“How’s your ass?” he smirks, reminding me of the Dax from long ago. And in a rare moment of the old Jolie, I playfully punch his belly. As I try to escape into the hallway, he hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me to him.
“Don’t make me tickle you like old times. I know you hate that shit,” he threatens jokingly into my ear. His erection presses into me through his pajama bottoms against my back. I still when his free hand cups my breast and gently pinches my nipple. Twisting around in his arms, I snake my own around his neck. His hands fall to my sore bottom and pull me to him, pressing my breasts against his bare chest.
He looks almost sad as he studies my face. I run my fingers through his hair, which feels weird since it was always kept short when he was younger. In this moment, there isn’t hate or horrible pasts, it’s just us. He brings his face close to mine and is about to kiss me when my cell phone starts ringing like crazy from the living room. I’m surprised they haven’t shut that off too. Unfortunately, the spell is broken and he pulls away from me to go start the shower.
Locating my phone, I answer it breathlessly failing to check caller ID first. “Hello?”
“Jolie, where are you?” Tucker demands on the other line. Since I’m standing naked in the living room, I head back to my room.
“None of your business, Tucker,” I spit out at him. Dax already put my boxes in my room, so I rummage through them until I find an outfit for today, a jean skirt and T-shirt.
“It is my business because you ignore calls from your dad and he pesters me! I went by your apartment and saw the eviction notice posted on the door. If you aren’t with Erica, because I already called her this morning, and you aren’t with your parents, then were the FUCK are you, Jolie?” he demands and I’m reminded of just why we divorced in the first place.
“I’m staying with an old friend and I’m not your problem anymore, remember?” I snap.
He’s quiet for a moment on the other line and I know he’s squeezing the hell out of his stress ball that he keeps on his desk. I can almost imagine his jaws clenching and unclenching.
“What friend?” he asks this time, instead of demanding.
“His name is Slate. I also got a job helping him with his books,” I tell him. I’m actually pretty proud to tell him I found a job. He grunts in response, but I know it is in approval. I was married to him for eight years so I’ll always know all of his signs and mannerisms.
“I miss you, Jo,” he says wistfully. I wince because we’d probably still be together had it not been for his cheating on me, which I forgave him for and then the subsequent miscarriage that I never fully mentally recovered from.
“Goodbye, Tuck,” I sigh and hang up.
The shower is still going when I walk into the steamy bathroom. This entire situation with Dax is incredibly fucked up. But in actuality, I am happy he’s in my life again—no matter the form. Pulling the curtain aside, I admire his body. He’s tall, muscular, and nearly every surface of his flesh is covered in some piece of art—he’s beautiful.
“Got room for me?” I ask tentatively. He turns to me with water running down his face, looking hot as hell, and my pussy throbs for him.
“Get in,” he commands and steps aside.
Once I’ve made my way in, he guides me under the spray of the water and begins soaping my body. I know he’s just cleaning me but my body is on edge as he slides softly over my curves. He’s pulled me against him so that my back is flush against his chest and his erection presses into my back. With his lips to my earlobe, I whine in need when his teeth find it and nibble.
“You’re going to need to get on the pill. I’m tired of fucking condoms, Jolie,” he growls hot breath into my ear, sending a message straight to my core.
“Dax—er—Slate, I’m on the pill,” I tell him. His hand slides between my legs and begins stroking my clit. The water and soap remnants are making things slippery and I’m already bucking against his hand as I feel an orgasm coming.
“You like this, baby girl?” he asks as his finger picks up speed. I’m moaning and panting as I get closer to the edge.
“Yes,” I breathe out raggedly. So close. I can feel myself about to come when he abruptly stops and withdraws his hand. My body is shaking from the sudden loss and being denied the orgasm that I was on the brink of having.
“Why’d you stop,” I demand. When I try to turn around to look at him, his arms grip me in an embrace and hold me in place.
“This isn’t a game, Jolie. You’re here because you fucking owe me for ruining my life. I went to prison for you—because you told them I raped you. My brain can’t even comprehend how you could do that to me. So, it is time for you to be punished. And right now, I feel like denying you an orgasm. I hope you feel fucking frustrated as hell,” he snaps.
When I flinch, his body relaxes and his hand caresses my breast. His mouth finds my neck and sucks gently. Since he won’t help me, I slide a hand to my still throbbing clit. I’ve just touched myself when his strong hand grips my wrist and pulls it away, causing me to yelp in surprise.
“I said no. Don’t fucking try it again. You made the deal, now stick with it or you’ll be back out on the street,” he barks. Tears fill my eyes as I wonder how I managed to get to this place—begging for the touch of a man that hates me.
“How long will this go on?” I shakily question. My mind won’t be able to handle it very long. In fact, I’m really wishing I had one of my pills in this exact moment.
“It will end once I feel I’ve had my sweet vengeance, baby girl.” A shudder passes through me as he leaves me alone in the shower with my tears and frustration.