As that tidbit dropped into place, she realized he wasn't giving her a free pa.s.s because the day had been so stressful. In a way, she was grateful that he wasn't treating her differently from the way he'd intended. She'd asked to be trained, and he was following through with his promise.

He stood, and his shorts fell to the floor. With one graceful motion, he shucked his shirt to stand before her with nothing on his wickedly handsome body. "Beg, Kitty Kat. Tell me what you most desire."

She wanted so much. How could he possibly take her in every orifice at once? "I want you, Keith. I want to feel you sliding in and out of my p.u.s.s.y, my a.s.s, and my mouth. I want you to take me hard and soft, fast and slow, all at the same time. I want to feel you on every part of me, to know every inch of my body belongs to you."

When he didn't immediately reply, not even to laugh at her impossible demands, she craned her neck to look up at him. The shuttered expression he'd adopted more often than not had slipped away. He regarded her with open appreciation and unadulterated reverence.

Another climax loomed. She tried to fight it, but her struggle was deliciously futile. As it pummeled her, the low growl of his tone reached her ears. "You belong to me."

"Yes." She repeated the affirmation over and over, a response to his statement and to the bliss suffusing her limbs, making them heavy and useless, not that she could move them anyway.

He reached down, and she felt the hard pinch of his fingers on her nipples. The waves of her o.r.g.a.s.m grew, sweeping her up the sheer face of another cliff before she could completely fall from the previous one.

Leaning over her, he reached around and plucked at the other one, subjecting both stiff peaks to the same mercilessness. That invisible connection sprang to life. She tried to squirm, only to be reminded once again of her situation. The ropes on her arms and wrists dug into her skin, another piece in the complicated pain puzzle falling into place.

She screamed. Tears leaked from her eyes, a reaction to the maelstrom inside and the vulnerability inherent in her surrender. The smoothness of the ropes sc.r.a.ping against her skin helped anchor her as the rest of her body drifted away.

For several moments, she felt as if she were outside her body, looking down on the bound and sated woman below. She observed Keith's satisfied expression and how it morphed into ruthlessness as he rounded the table to stand behind her once more.

He swiped at the juices running in rivers down the insides of her thighs and rubbed the natural lubricant into the tight ring of muscle guarding her a.s.s. Soon he positioned his c.o.c.khead at her back entrance. Now she understood the full reason he had tied her at this end of the table. It afforded access to anything he wanted.

Her body was becoming acclimated to the steady vibrations rocking her most intimate tissues. She would have to concentrate hard to have another o.r.g.a.s.m, and the inert pressure of the tip of Keith's c.o.c.k at her a.n.u.s distracted her in a big way. Would he take it slow, tease her by withholding more of what she wanted, or would he ream her like last time?

Just when she thought she might go insane from not knowing, he pressed forward. She exhaled, relaxing those muscles to admit the pleasure he brought.

"Tighten around me, Kitty Kat."

Though reluctant to hurt him, she did as he asked. As she clenched, it changed the tenor of the vibrating ball curving against the flesh of her p.u.s.s.y. New life breathed into her tired, overstimulated c.l.i.t, and she felt the stirrings of yet another climax. This one she wasn't sure she wanted to have. She didn't know what else he had planned, but if he kept this up, she wouldn't be awake for it. Already her serotonin levels were high, combating the endorphin rush from the flogging.

He set a leisurely pace. She experimented with how tight to hold him, noting when his moans and grunts changed to indicate lessening or increasing enjoyment. She wanted to pleasure him, to show him how much she appreciated what he'd done for her. That meant learning his tells, like how he gripped her hips harder when he lost himself in the bliss or how he went completely silent when he was about to explode.

Sharp tingles rocketed up her spine, and the vibrator seemed to slow down to pulse in time to Keith's rhythm. Heat, both frozen and liquid, flooded her body, and she lost the ability to control any of her muscles. With another loud cry, she came. The climax went on and on, throbbing and pounding. She lost track of where she was and even who she was. The world shrank, and she only knew the point where she and Keith came together.

She woke up on a ma.s.sage table. Keith had a cloth pressed between her legs. It was soft and cool, exactly what her overused p.u.s.s.y needed. Bits of o.r.g.a.s.m pulsed every now and again, a pleasant reminder of her first time in his dungeon.

The soft lights illuminated enough for her to know they were in a different room. It was small, barely large enough to be a utility room. Other than the ma.s.sage table, cabinets occupying two corners were the only furniture. Two closed doors told her nothing, but the absence of windows told her they were still in the bas.e.m.e.nt.

A spitting sound let her know he'd squirted something from a bottle. Then his hands were on the abused skin of her a.s.s, anointing the tenderized flesh with something soothing. As he worked his way up her body, the pressure of his caresses increased until he was ma.s.saging her muscles. She groaned when he got to her shoulders. After having spent who knew how long in a raised and bent position, her muscles screamed in protest.

"I know, Kitty Kat. The more we do this, the easier it will be to hold those positions for longer and longer periods of time."

Longer? She'd been stuck that way for at least an hour. She wasn't complaining-not by a long shot-but she wasn't looking forward to finding out what he meant by a longer period of time. The ma.s.sage felt wonderful, though. By the time he'd finished pampering her arms and legs, she felt like jelly. Put her in any container, and she'd a.s.sume that shape.

"Thank you, Keith. I'm so glad you changed your mind. I can't imagine being with anyone else like this." Not only could she not imagine it, she didn't want to try.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her to one of the doors. In lieu of a response, he kissed her forehead and bent his knees to reach the doork.n.o.b.

Emotion choked Keith's throat, closing it so tightly that he couldn't utter a single word. He hugged her closer to his body. In all the years he'd been a man, he'd never once taken care of a sub the way he'd just pampered Kat. Sure, he washed them down and put arnica or something similar on their skin to make sure it healed without problems, but it had always been a clinical thing, like cleaning the dishes when he finished eating.

This was different. He'd thoroughly enjoyed every second of aftercare. He loved the soft glide of her skin under his hands, feeling the tightness in her shoulders yield to his ministrations. Those muted sounds of contentment she'd made winnowed a path directly into his core and made him want things he knew better than to want.

He carried her up two flights of stairs and set her gently in his bed. Her olive skin popped against the pale blue sheets. She gazed up at him with no small amount of wonder and adoration in her eyes. At that precise moment, his life changed. He accepted the inevitable. There was no way in h.e.l.l he would ever let her go. The foreign feelings she generated terrified him, but he no longer wanted to fight them.

Lost to emotion and completely powerless to do anything else, he turned off the lights, crawled into bed, and made love to her. No restraints, no domination or submission, just reverent caresses and quiet, whispered praises.

Chapter Eight.

Keith wasn't there when she woke the next morning. Sunlight peeked around the edges of the blinds, and the digital clock across the room indicated that she'd slept for almost ten hours.

The scene had been incredible. Though she was sore, her skin didn't chafe or burn the way she thought it might after having been so thoroughly flogged. She rolled and stretched. Keith's scent suffused the bedding. It was in her pillow, on the sheets, and in the comforter. She indulged herself for a few seconds by burying her face in his pillow and inhaling his purely male scent.

Then she made the bed and headed for the shower. She had to meet her mother, cousin, and aunt for brunch in a little over an hour. She didn't know where Keith was, but she reasoned that he wouldn't let her go there alone. For better or worse, he'd taken the job of being her personal bodyguard.

It didn't escape her notice that he'd dropped the parts of his dominant att.i.tude to which she'd objected. He'd stepped up to embody the man she both liked and admired. This was the man who'd fed her morning shower fantasies for a decade.

Halfway through her shower, while she was rinsing conditioner from her hair, she noted his silhouette on the other side of the beveled gla.s.s shower door. Because she knew how much he liked to watch, she slid her hand down her body, over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, and across her stomach, ending between her legs.

The effects of the vibrator hadn't lasted long after he'd stopped the device. Her p.u.s.s.y wasn't as sore this morning as she'd thought it would be. He'd been decidedly gentle and loving when he'd taken her in his bed.

He neither moved nor said a word, and she was loath to break the silence. It seemed naughtier to know he was there without acknowledging the fact he was watching her m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e.

Tendrils of heat coiled, ready to spring loose. It wasn't close to the caliber of o.r.g.a.s.m he gave her, but it was an o.r.g.a.s.m, one of those things good at any size. This time she remembered to ask. "May I come, Keith? Please?"

"Yes." His strong voice carried the a.s.surance that he thoroughly enjoyed witnessing her completion.

She gave in to the delicious release. When she stepped from the shower, she found him waiting with a soft, oversize towel held wide open.

He wrapped it around her and held her in his arms. "Good morning, Kitty Kat."

Reluctant to lean her wet head against his chest, she settled for planting a kiss on his neck and inhaling his heated scent. He smelled like coffee and fabric softener and something distinctly Keith. She was addicted to that last fragrance. Maybe the first one too. It was awfully strong.

He reached back with one hand and produced a steaming mug. "I brought you coffee, but I didn't bother with breakfast. Your mother called to make sure you were still coming today. I told her I would have you there on time."

Katrina lifted her head to regard him with a questioning gaze. "My mother called you to ask about me?"

He nodded stiffly. "I already talked to Malcolm this morning. We've a.n.a.lyzed the footage from last night and found nothing suspicious. Mal told your parents what happened. They're worried. He a.s.sured them that neither he nor I will be leaving you unprotected until that b.a.s.t.a.r.d is behind bars."

Now it was her turn to stiffen. It was one thing for them to all know she'd stayed the night with Keith. He had two guest bedrooms, and she'd stayed here before. "Malcolm is here?"

Keith shook his head. "We're streaming the footage on a secure line."

"So Malcolm saw me leave with you." The leaving together part didn't worry her. The parts where Keith kept a proprietary hand on her lower back did. He wasn't the kind of person who went out of his way to have physical contact with anyone, which magnified the significance of the gesture. And had his hand strayed down to squeeze her recently disciplined a.s.s?

His mouth tightened. He released and stepped back. "He's not stupid, Kat. He's going to figure it out eventually. If he asks, I won't lie to him."

A cool breeze, generated by his swift change in demeanor, rushed at her. She didn't expect him to lie outright, though she fully acknowledged omission as a form of lying. Rubbing the towel over her body, she dried herself with quick efficiency. Then she squeezed excess water from her hair. "I just don't want to be the cause of him getting mad at you again. He's spent years warning me away from you."

Keith chuckled, but it was the unhappy kind. "And he's forbidden me to date you. I don't blame him. I have serious reservations about you seeing someone like me."

Training and dating were two completely different animals. She paused in her drying ritual to look at him. "So now we're dating?"

His nod was brief and curt. Because she recognized the anxiety behind his stoic mask, she wasn't offended by his brusqueness. It explained the tenderness of his lovemaking the night before. She was making headway faster than she'd expected.

Knowing he wouldn't want her to make a big deal out of it, she put on her bra and a sundress before throwing her arms and legs around him. As if he expected her attack, he was ready, and he caught her with ease.

"I always wanted to date you."

He gazed deep into her eyes, the gravity of his seriousness no match for the brief smile her confession elicited. "I'm not going to hide it, Kat. Your brother might get mad at us both, but I'm not going to pretend you mean nothing to me."

A stone formed in the pit of her stomach. He might think he could ride out Malcolm's ire, but Katrina feared her brother would see it as a betrayal. All along, she had thought Keith could and would keep their changed relationship a secret. He tended not to be forthcoming with details about his romantic involvements. It wasn't that he hid anything, just that he didn't talk about it.

She appreciated his position on the issue and what it meant. He was in this for the long haul, and she knew he'd never opened himself to anyone like this before. She had to honor that.

"Okay, but let me tell my mom first. Not today, though. I have to get her alone. If she's on our side, then n.o.body else will have a choice but to be supportive." Her mother would also be the easier sell. She already loved Keith and treated him like a son. However, if he broke her heart, as he was apt to do with women, her mother would never forgive him. "But Keith, if this doesn't work out between us, and the reason won't matter, nothing will ever be the same again."

Instead of answering, he kissed her. It was a sweet kiss, almost pa.s.sionless except that it communicated a whole host of things he couldn't seem to say out loud. This expression of love stole her breath. He'd stolen her heart years before, so that matter was already resolved.

When it ended, he set her back on her feet and rested his forehead against hers. "So not working out is not an option. Got it."

__________.

The restaurant Aunt Cindy had chosen for brunch bustled with people. Not only was the food sinfully addictive, it was located near the busy downtown shopping district in Madison Heights.

Keith had walked her inside, but he'd been too preoccupied with visually sweeping the area to do more than press a kiss to her cheek and admonish her to behave. Since he also kissed her mother's cheek, the small act didn't make a statement.

Her mother had refrained from peppering her with questions until Keith left. Though he'd said he had errands to run, Katrina knew he hadn't gone far.

"I want to know everything, Katrina Marie. Malcolm said the first incident was last weekend. Why didn't you tell anyone?" Worry lines creased her mother's brow, adding ten years to her pretty face.

Katrina hated that she'd caused her mother's distress. Having Keith by her side yesterday had made the situation easier to bear. Last night, he'd purged the unpleasant events from her mind and done incredible things to her body that made sitting still in a chair today a little challenging.

Before she could answer, Aunt Cindy intervened. "Donna, leave her alone. Malcolm already told you what's going on. I'm sure Trina just wants to relax and not think about that horrible man."

"Yeah." Layla's blue eyes sparkled. "But now you have an excuse to buy all new underwear. And if Keith is your bodyguard today, you can drag him with you. I'd love to see him try to not have an expression while he's watching you pick out s.e.xy panties." Then she inhaled sharply, and her sparkle turned a little wicked. "You're not wearing anything under that dress, are you?"

Katrina was sure her blush answered the question satisfactorily.

Donna squeezed Katrina's hand. "Baby, I'll go shopping with you. That way Keith can keep his distance. Or I can bring your father. He's used to watching us shop, and Keith can have the afternoon off."

Certain that nothing would induce Keith to leave her side today, Katrina shook her head. "I'm fine. It's fine. I already told Keith what I have planned for today."

And he'd lifted his lips in that c.o.c.ky grin, but he hadn't promised to take her shopping. She was sure he had some plans of his own. She smiled and spent the next hour enjoying the company and the food.

When they left the restaurant, Layla linked her arm through Katrina's and rested her head on Trina's shoulder. Though they'd always been close, Layla was physical with practically everyone. Katrina leaned her head against Layla's, returning the gesture with equal affection.

"I'm worried about you, Trina. This is some serious s.h.i.t."

"I know." She pushed away the feelings of violation and insecurity. She might be a target, but she refused to be a victim. "Malcolm and Keith put infrared, motion-detecting cameras all around my condo. They're watching everyone who comes and goes. And I haven't been alone all weekend."

"You can come stay with me. Or I can come stay with you. It's probably safer at your place now that the dynamic duo are playing spy games."

Enveloped in the love of family, Katrina felt safe and secure. She was lucky to have them. "I'll keep that in mind for when Keith needs a day off. Right now, nothing's going to make him leave my side."

Layla squeezed her arm tighter, but the line of conversation was forgotten as they both spotted Keith standing next to his SUV, waiting for her. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he exuded barely suppressed fury. The woman standing in front of him had to be a foot shorter. She had one hand on her hip, and the other poked dangerously close to his chest. Keith's demeanor gave Katrina the chills.

"Yikes," Layla said, giving voice to Katrina's reaction. "I've never seen him look so p.i.s.sed off before. And cold. I can see how he makes the bad guys pee their pants with just a look. All this time, I thought he only stood there looking dangerous and handsome. But right now he's deadly scary."

Hate. That was the emotion they were both having trouble identifying. They'd both seen him upset, annoyed, even mad. But in all the years Katrina had known him, she'd never seen him show pure, unadulterated hate for anyone or anything.

Her heart went out to him, breaking a little. Hate was a strong emotion. In order for him to feel it, this woman must have meant a great deal to him at one point.

With her back to them, Katrina couldn't see her face or tell much about the woman. She wore cutoff jeans that were ripped up at the bottom and a yellow, short-sleeved shirt. Her blonde hair was clipped up in the back of her head. Though she wasn't large, her flesh definitely strained against the confines of her clothes.

"She looks trashy." Layla whispered her unkind observation. Silently, Katrina agreed.

"I think that's his mother."

Katrina and Layla whirled around. They'd forgotten the presence of their moms. Donna had her eyes narrowed, and her gaze pointed at the woman standing in front of Keith. She nodded and added to her guess.

"Yeah. I met her once years ago. That woman is a piece of work. It's a wonder he managed to escape and make something of himself." Donna didn't bother to hide her disdain or her disapproval.

Instinctively Katrina knew Keith wouldn't want her mother to witness this exchange. He had a lot of pride, and part of it was wrapped in his ability to keep his cool under any circ.u.mstance. Katrina hugged her mom and aunt.

"I'll see you guys later."

She tried to walk away, but her mother grabbed her arm. "Trina, leave him be. He won't want to introduce you to that woman."

Strains of conversation replayed in her head. That woman had beaten him when he was a child. It didn't matter how old he grew; he was still a defenseless little boy against that woman. "Mom, I can't let him face her alone."

From the periphery of his vision, he watched Mama L try to stop Kat from coming closer. He appreciated her effort. There was no way he wanted his precious Kat close to the monster in front of him.

"Your sister has been calling you for months."

He was well aware of his sister's attempts to contact him. Jules had read him the riot act, but then she'd become curiously silent on the matter. He figured Malcolm must have used his charm to get her to lay off. The messages hadn't stopped coming, but now they were shuffled to the bottom of the stack.

When he didn't answer, his mother poked at the air in front of his chest, as if she knew the slightest physical contact would send him over the edge. "You're her brother, and she needs you. For once, you could stop being such a selfish little b.a.s.t.a.r.d and be there for your sister."

Kat sidled up to him. She put her hand on his arm, her skin still cool from the air-conditioning in the restaurant. Though she said nothing, she freely lent him the strength of her presence. Suddenly it wasn't such a struggle to keep a leash on his temper.

"She's in prison. Second-degree murder. I looked it up."