Doms Of The FBI: Re-Paired Part 15

"It wasn't her fault." His mother waved her hand dismissively while glaring at Kat. "Tell your wh.o.r.e to get lost. This is family business."

Kat's hand tightened on his arm, and she placed the other against his chest to hold him back. While she couldn't hope to have the physical strength to stop him, she provided a different kind of restraint.

Though he should defend Kat, anything he said would only be breath wasted on this woman. He put some more ice in his glare. "You are not and have never been my family. Don't contact me again. If you see me on the street, keep walking."

When doing surveillance, especially when he was with the target, both socially and emotionally, he had to go about his business as if he weren't constantly scanning for the slightest clue that someone might be watching them. In keeping with that cover, he'd run a few errands and window-shopped while his girlfriend had brunch with her relatives.

Dustin wasn't finished working up a profile of who might stalk Kat, but Keith figured the person was most likely male and between the ages of twenty-five and forty. While he hadn't been dismissing them, he also hadn't looked too closely at the women. When this one had approached, he'd stepped out of the way to let her pa.s.s.

She'd come at him with a nasty comment. The years had not been kind to the b.i.t.c.h who brought him into this world. She looked tired and used, far older than her fifty-six years. Mama L had just turned sixty-seven, and she could pa.s.s for his mother's daughter.

Putting one arm protectively around Kat's shoulders, he steered her away from the situation. He didn't say a word as he opened the pa.s.senger door and saw her safely loaded into his car. She watched him thoughtfully, but she didn't say anything until they were on the road.

"So that was your mother."

He didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't very well lie. "Yes."

"What's her name?"

"Starr. Two r's."

She nodded, but he had the sense it wasn't any kind of acknowledgment. "What did she want?"

He shook his head. It didn't matter what she wanted. "Don't know. Don't care."

"You're not even a little bit curious?"

"My sister's been calling. I looked her up in the system. She's been part of it since she was fifteen. Of course, those records are sealed. She's been in and out of jail for the past seven years. Three DUIs. Possession. Solicitation. Things like that." He let out a mirthless chuckle. "She used to be so much better at eluding the law."

Kat made a knowing sound. "Starr thinks you might be able to pull some strings."

"Probably. I won't, though. She gets what she deserves." He didn't bother to hide his bitterness. Of his two older sisters, one had ignored him, and one had taken pleasure in beating him up every single day. Some of his earliest memories were of searching for places to sleep where Savannah wouldn't think to look. Even now he couldn't stand to be touched while he was asleep.

One glance at Kat softened him a bit. Her touch didn't bring him the same sense of dread. She comforted him with her presence and brought peace with her embrace.

Determined to change the subject, he smiled as he reached into the backseat. "I got you something." He fumbled around until he found the right bag, and then he deposited it on her lap.

She gave him a glance ripe with cynical understanding that let him know he wasn't off the hook, but that she'd let him wiggle away for now. Her expression morphed when she peered into the bag. "Ohhh. You bought me underwear." She lifted out a pair of light blue lacy panties. "These are pretty. Way better than what I had before."

And they'd look incredible on her. He loved lighter, brighter colors that contrasted with her olive complexion.

"Matching bras. Wow. They're so soft and s.e.xy. I didn't know you liked lace this much." She oohed and aahed some more as she went through his selections.

Her approval pleased him inordinately. Before Kat, he hadn't cared for lace on a woman. He'd preferred anything that came off easily. It hadn't been about being s.e.xy. It had been about convenience and control. Kat had asked him to leave that part of him behind. Shedding the false front felt good, like he could finally be himself. No way it could happen with anybody but Kat.

The short drive ended as he pulled into his garage and shifted into park. "You're a beautiful woman. You should have beautiful things."

She leaped from her seat and landed straddling his lap. He was less surprised this time, but he was pleased at her excitement. He grinned and pulled the key from the ignition, fully intending to luxuriate in whatever way she wanted to thank him.

She cupped his face between her hands and held it steady. He threw his keys in the console and settled his grip on her hips. She wasn't wearing panties under that sundress. It would be an easy matter to unzip his pants and slip his c.o.c.k into her velvety warmth.

But she didn't lean in for a kiss. A close look at her expression made him groan. His effort to redirect her attention really hadn't been successful.

"You're a beautiful man. Inside and out. n.o.body can take that away from you."

He closed his eyes, a feeble attempt at escape. He wanted to be the man she saw when she looked at him, but he wasn't. The run-in with his mother had underscored the facts. The apple didn't fall far from the tree. A part of him would always be an addict. He could pretend to be the perfect man for Kat, and he would keep her close until she discovered that he had some serious shortcomings she couldn't fix. And then it would all go to h.e.l.l. She would move on, and he wouldn't bother fighting the demons of addiction anymore.

"I know it's not easy to face the woman who was supposed to love and protect you, but who hurt you instead. No mother who loves her children could ever beat them. I'm proud of you, Keith. You didn't let her destroy your life."

What the h.e.l.l had Malcolm told her? His eyes flew open, and he pinched his brows together. "What are you talking about? My mother didn't beat me."

Now her brows drew together, matching his. "But you said she beat you every day."

He shook his head. "She got drunk and pa.s.sed out every day. So did my dad. My sister beat me. She's eight years older. I didn't stand a chance. I was half-starved most of the time, scrawny as all h.e.l.l. I didn't know what it was like to eat regular meals until I joined the military. My mother didn't lift a finger to stop the beatings, and my father thought it was funny. He'd sit there with a forty in his hand and laugh his a.s.s off. He only got mad if I bled too much."

Color left her face, turning her skin a startling shade of gray. He'd never talked about his past to her in anything but general terms. She knew his parents were alcoholics and that he'd had to fend for himself, but he'd sheltered her from the true horror of it. He had no idea why he told her those things now.

It was his turn to grip her face. "Breathe, Kat. Inhale. Exhale. Slow breaths, honey."

Huge tears brightened her dark eyes, and his gut clenched at her raw pain. She held in her tears, not wanting to upset him further.

"It's in the past, Kitty Kat. Savannah went to jail when she was seventeen, and by the time she got out, I was big enough to fight back. The house was peaceful without her. My parents and my other sister, Leanna, were lazy drunks. It got really quiet once everyone pa.s.sed out." He didn't add that he'd joined them too many nights to count.

He didn't actually recall signing the papers to join the Marines, and as a teen, he'd learned to function drunk well enough to hide his problem from almost everyone.

She seemed to pull herself together. The wet sheen disappeared from her eyes, and she gave him a sad smile. "My heart breaks for that little boy, but I have no sympathy for the man."

Now it was his turn at confusion. While he hadn't wanted sympathy, he'd still thought she would give some. "None?"

"None. You're a wonderful man. I meant what I said. Maybe your parents didn't beat you, but they abused you just the same. Neglect is the most insidious form of child abuse there is. And you not only survived, but you've managed to thrive. You have a great career, the respect and admiration of pretty much everyone you meet, and an awesome girlfriend. Really, you've done pretty well."

He slid his hands under the hem of her dress and caressed her thighs, pushing the fabric up as he went. "I'm so glad you're here to count my blessings."

Truly, he was. He tended to spend time wallowing in the negative. Kat was a bright ray of sunshine on her cloudiest day. He needed her to save him from the darkness. He ma.s.saged his way to the apex of her thighs.

With her dress out of the way, he could see the deep rose of her p.u.s.s.y. It was barely damp, but after the topic they'd spent time discussing, he hadn't expected otherwise.

"I stopped by your house and picked up your briefcase and some clothes for work. I didn't get my full weekend with you, so you'll be staying the night." He didn't think twice about his high-handedness in making this decision for her, but for the first time it occurred to him that he'd always done things like this to Kat and she'd never once protested.

She'd been his submissive all along.

"Take the bag upstairs. Choose one lingerie combination. When you come down, I expect you to be wearing that and nothing else."

With a pleased smile lighting her eyes, she darted forward and kissed his cheek. "Yes, Keith."

She'd replaced his t.i.tle with his name, but she infused it with the same respect and reverence, so there wasn't a real distinction. As he watched her disappear through the door to the house, he wondered if she truly objected to the t.i.tle or if she'd refused to use it in order to protest his treatment of her their first night together. Now that he was behaving toward her with the same consideration he'd always shown, she seemed much happier.

For years he'd fantasized about being able to hang out with her, talk to her about anything and everything, and then tell her to get naked. In a way, she'd insisted on making his dream a reality. He owed her a reward.

He hauled her things from the back and brought them inside. She wouldn't need her work clothes until the next day, so he hung them in the spare bathroom upstairs. From the sounds of water running in the master bath, he figured she was freshening up.

He liked that she took time with the details, and he didn't want to disturb her while she was seeing to them. Women could be weird about those things. Watch her m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.e in the shower? No problem. Watch her pluck or shave? Major disaster. As her Master-whether or not she used the t.i.tle-it was his right to interrupt her at any time. As a man, he knew better than to tempt fate.

By the time he saw her again, almost half an hour had pa.s.sed. The fourth step creaked as she came down, alerting him to her progress.

"In here," he called from the living room. Sunday meant football, and he had to at least check out how the preseason prospects were shaping up.

However good the new Denver lineup looked, Kat took precedence. He watched the opening that led to the kitchen, the only way into the room. With all the dramatic flair of a supermodel, she paused in the entryway, one hand on the wall and one hip thrust forward. Straight tendrils of hair brushed her shoulders. It would feel like silk when he ran his fingers through those luxurious tresses. He was glad she'd left it down. Next her long, shapely legs invited his thorough visual caress. The light blue satin made her skin seem to glow. Or was that extreme happiness? He could wish, couldn't he?

The lacy sc.r.a.ps barely covered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, while at the same time emphasizing their graceful swell. The vividness of her areolas formed circles beneath the pale bra. Matching panties hung low on her hips, just catching her jutting hip bones. A tiny bit of lace covered her mound, drawing his attention to what it hid.

"Simply beautiful. I could spend hours just looking at you." Smooth words flowed easily, but he meant it. She presented an incredibly lovely vision. He'd chosen her clothes well.

Color rushed to her cheeks, and he was amazed to find her still nervous around him. How could she doubt his desire after the last two days?

He motioned to the large throw pillow he'd positioned at his feet. Her laptop and briefcase were on the low table in front of the sofa. "I know you have work to do. I'll give you time to research and write your briefs. And then you're all mine, Kitty Kat."

"I'm already yours." She smiled, and he could tell she was pleased that he remembered her need to get some work done before Monday. If he didn't provide the time, she'd spend the whole night stressing over the things she hadn't accomplished. She knelt on the floor and dug into her briefcase.

The scene sent a pleasant tingle zipping through his bloodstream. She settled into the position he'd chosen with a contentment that couldn't be faked. It bothered him that he still looked for evidence she was doing this because it was what he wanted, not what she wanted. He needed to move past his insecurities and trust her a little more.

"Oh, you got my things back from Dustin." She threw a brilliant smile over her shoulder. "Thanks. You really were busy while I was having brunch. Good. I was afraid you'd spent the whole time watching me."

Dustin had stopped by while she was still sleeping to drop off her stuff and debrief Keith. He hadn't made headway in the case, but he was still gathering information, so that wasn't a surprise.

They'd decided not to tell her that she was under constant, though unofficial, surveillance. The bureau didn't have the resources to keep tabs on her, so Dustin, Malcolm, and Keith had decided to take that matter into their own hands. While Keith had been shopping, Dustin had been keeping an eye on Kat. They had a plan for most contingencies, and Jordan had offered his services as a backup plan.

She set to work. He flipped through three different games and watched the time-lapse video feed from her condo on his laptop. He looked over some case files, trying to fit together the puzzle pieces on cases he believed to be connected. Proving the links existed would enable them to streamline several investigations. Of course, life was never simple.

Eventually the steady tap of Kat's fingertips on her keyboard came to a halt. She put it in sleep mode and rested her head just above his knee.

Wanting her to take some time to get comfortable with the position, he refrained from touching her at first. Then he gave in to the urge to stroke her hair.

She sighed, and he felt her eyelashes flutter against his skin. "I like this."

A month ago, he would have punished a slave for speaking without permission. Now he wanted to hear her speak whenever she had something to say. Marveling at how much he'd changed in such a short time, he smiled contentedly and continued toying with her hair. "What do you like, Kitty Kat?"

"This. Being here with you. Sitting on the floor at your feet. You playing with my hair. I've fantasized about it. I'm not sure what that says about me, but I feel so peaceful and calm, like everything is right with the world." She planted a tiny kiss on his leg and smoothed a caress across his ankle.

Though he knew she couldn't see it, he smiled gently at her awed tone. "It says you're submissive. How do you feel about that?"

The finger exploring his ankle moved higher. It wasn't an evasion so much as an indication that she was processing the question. "I am fine with it. I don't think I would bring it up in casual conversation, because people would judge me. But I can't pretend I don't want this-that I don't need it. I don't feel like you put me here to show that I'm lesser than you. It's more like it's symbolic of our relationship. That you'll take care of me. That I'm yours."

Another piece of his soul came to life, dropping down to join the rest of what she owned. Perhaps she belonged to him, but he belonged to her just as much. "You are mine, Kitty Kat. And I'll always take care of you, no matter what." Even if she suddenly decided she couldn't be with him like this. "Now come sit on my lap. I want to play with your p.u.s.s.y."

In stark contrast to the way she'd moved in his car, she rose with lazy grace. He guided her across his lap with his hands on her hips and arranged her so that she lay with her head against his shoulder, one leg bent up and out of the way on the sofa, and the other leg dangling off the side.

This gave him a clear path to her p.u.s.s.y with both his eyes and his hand. Her breathing sped up as she antic.i.p.ated his touch. Of course, he had no plans to make it easy on her.

He spent time caressing her legs, especially the sensitive places behind her knees and near the junctures where each leg met her pelvis. Then he meandered upward to knead and pluck at her amazingly responsive b.r.e.a.s.t.s. The scent of her arousal saturated the air, and she whimpered. He liked that she accepted his will, made it her own, especially when her desires were driving her to the brink.

Flipping aside the soaked sc.r.a.p of lace covering her p.u.s.s.y, he admired her handiwork for several minutes, stroking her outer lips with the barest of caresses as she shivered in his arms. "I like it, Kitty Kat. Have you ever shaved completely like this before?"

She shook her head. "I know you didn't tell me to, but it seemed like something you'd want."

Though many of his fellow Doms had strong views on the topic, Keith didn't. A woman's p.u.s.s.y was an expression of her personality. It functioned as an early warning system. Wild women had wild p.u.s.s.ies. Neat women had neat p.u.s.s.ies. There were tons of shades in between, and piercings presented even more options. Kat had laid herself bare for him. He wasn't about to dismiss the implication of her offering.

"I want you every way I can get you." With that, he captured her lips in a searing kiss and pressed her c.l.i.t. She surged in his arms, crying out in surprise and ecstasy as she climaxed. He rubbed lightly, widening his forays to prolong her pleasure.

"I'm sorry, Keith." She panted her apology and grasped at his arm and knee with trembling hands. "I didn't see that coming. You're very good at this."

He chuckled at her attempt to turn her misbehavior into a compliment. "Thanks. But you still stole an o.r.g.a.s.m, my sweet Kat. Stand up with your back to me."

When she'd spent such a long time changing earlier, he'd stowed some gear in the small cabinet in one of his end tables. He extracted a few things. They weren't for punishment, not really, but she did need some discipline. He had the sense that disciplining Kat was going to consume significant quant.i.ties of time. Though she was a natural submissive, she wasn't naturally obedient. He liked that about her. It made things more interesting.

He pulled her wrists together behind her back. Beginning with the middle of a medium-gauge line, he wound it around her wrists, leaving about a six-inch gap. Then he brought the lines together in the s.p.a.ce between her wrists and twisted the rope once. A few inches higher on her arms, he wound the line again. He continued up her arms, braiding them into his rope design until she was bound from wrist to shoulder, an elegant web of twisted rope running parallel to her arms between them. It was both decorative and functional.

The position thrust her b.r.e.a.s.t.s forward and put a nice arch in her spine. He turned her around to face him. Her lips parted, waiting for him to stake his claim. Her pupils were dilated, wide with wonder, and her chest heaved, bringing those pebbled nipples closer.

She'd just come, and now she looked almost ready to do it again. He couldn't totally resist her siren's song, so he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. She moaned and opened farther to offer more, but he refused the bait. If he got sucked in, he would lose himself in her generosity and beauty, in the headiness of loving the perfect woman in his arms.

Next he extracted a collar from his hiding spot. She trembled as he placed it around her neck.

"Nervous?"

She licked her lips. All that panting was drying them out. "No. I trust you."

"You're shaking like a leaf in a heavy wind."

"Because I know you're about to blow me away. But I also know you'll hold me up and bring me down at the right time. It's desire. Want. Not nerves."

As he'd thought, but he liked hearing her say the words.

Bending down, he took her nipple in his mouth, lace and all. She sucked in a sharp breath, and her shoulders twitched hard, and he knew she'd tried to bring her hands to grip his head. He banded an arm behind her, lacing it between her bound arms and her back to hold her upright. She arched into his mouth, braced her pelvis against his, and sagged her weight onto his arm, surrendering completely.

She whispered his name, the reverent tone giving way to pleading when he switched to her other nipple. He played for a long time, taking turns torturing her sensitive buds with his teeth, lips, and tongue.

By the time he settled himself back on the sofa and had her straddle him, thick cream smeared over the insides of her thighs and dripped onto his shorts, enough lubrication for him to take her a.s.s if he was so inclined. He'd get to it eventually. She had an exceptionally lovely rear end.

The last accessory he had for her was a pair of clamps on a chain. She hadn't liked the clothespins on her flesh, but she'd loved having something on her nipples. Now that he'd prepared them, it was just a matter of slipping the clamps over her swollen nubs and tightening them down.

He slid the cold metal under the panel of her bra. This way the clamp would make her nipples stand out, and the wet lace would provide a constant friction as she moved her body.

She whimpered, begging wordlessly for more, as it squeezed her flesh. Then he threaded the thin chain through a link on her collar before he treated her other nipple to the same stimulation. Now whenever she moved her neck, it would give them a tug. She could exercise limited control over this sensation, invoking it when she wanted a little extra stimulation. It also presented an opportunity for an unexpected sharp reminder if she forgot about the connection and tossed her head with pa.s.sion.

Then he set her back and reached for a condom.

"No," she said. "I know we said to use them, but you didn't last night, and I really like the way you felt inside me. I'm on birth control, and we're both clean. How about we just use them for a.n.a.l s.e.x?"