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by Elyzabeth M. VaLey


  “I—” Gabi cleared her throat.

  “Would you like that?”

  Marcus skimmed the top of her stockings. He grazed her skin. She flinched.

  “No. Not here.”

  “You’re embarrassed.”

  “The guy at the back of the room is watching.”

  “Don’t you like being watched? You do it all the time at the club. On the cross, on the bench.”

  “It’s different. People go there to do that. Everyone is doing the same, so no one is really watching.”

  She rolled her lips inwardly and tucked her hair behind her ears. He didn’t miss the tremble in her hands.

  Too fast.

  “I apologize, Gabi,” Marcus said. “I’ve made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t my intention.”

  He placed his hands on the bar, splaying them out. He wouldn’t touch her again until she was ready.

  “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known.” She tentatively placed her smaller hand over his. It was feminine, with long, slim fingers and neatly trimmed nails without any polish. “Sir,” she whispered.

  “Would you like to get out of here?” he asked, turning his palm and lacing their fingers together. His heartbeat quickened. Their gazes locked. She licked her lips, wetting them and reawakening his latent desire.

  “I would love that,” she said.

  “Let’s go.”

  After helping her into her long, black coat, he shrugged on his jacket and led her into the street, still busy with locals and tourists even at this time of year. The bright streetlights mingled with the more colorful business lights creating a rainbow on the sidewalk. He didn’t want to keep them on the main road for long.

  “Where are we going?” Gabi asked when he took the second exit.

  “Somewhere without prying eyes.”

  “We could have just gotten a hotel room,” she pointed out with a wry grin.

  Marcus chuckled.

  “Too risky. I already told you I’m not going to fuck you tonight, kitten. This way.”

  They took another turn into a quieter part of the city. The difference between streets was astonishing. One was teeming with life, and the other was poorly illuminated and empty. Perfect. Steering Gabi to the left, they entered a narrow alley, barely lit by the main road. A creature scurried amongst the shadows, and the smell of piss hung thickly in the air.

  “This way.”

  “Such a romantic spot,” she commented sardonically.

  Marcus ignored her. Finally, he found the perfect spot. Light from an apartment above hit the brick wall, illuminating it enough for him to watch her reactions.

  “Now what?”

  Without missing a beat, he pushed her roughly against the wall. Her purse tumbled to the ground, and she screeched out his name. Blood pounded in his ears.

  “Trust me,” he growled.

  Gripping her wrists, he pulled them over her head, holding them firmly in place. He pressed his body against hers, forcing Gabi to tilt her head to look at him.

  “Sir?” she murmured.

  “Hush now, kitten. You don’t want to call attention to yourself, do you? You didn’t want anyone watching you, and I’ve brought you here, far from prying eyes and from the temptation of a hotel room where I would fuck you silly all night long. We’re not ready for that yet.”

  “We aren’t?”

  “Not when you’re asking questions when you’re not supposed to.”

  “But—”

  “Enough.”

  He didn’t give her the time to argue. Marcus captured her mouth in a bruising kiss. She gasped in surprise, giving him the opening he needed to thrust his tongue inside. She didn’t fight him. Gabi responded. She arched against him, silently begging for more. Emotions welled up within him, and he slowed down, turning the savage plundering into a tender communion of lips joined at the soul. Gabi whimpered, and he pulled back.

  “Open your legs, kitten,” he commanded huskily.

  She did so immediately. Parting her coat aside, he lifted the hem of her dress and cupped her pussy.

  “You little slutty kitten,” he growled. “Your cunt is soaked.” His fingers glided across her labia. “Have you ever been this wet, kitten?”

  “Not in a long time, Sir.”

  “My little kitty slut, you please me.” Marcus nipped her neck, then soothed the bite by kissing it.

  Gabi mewled, unashamedly attempting to rub herself against him.

  Marcus swallowed. He had her where he wanted her. His dick throbbed painfully. It’d be so easy to give in to the carnal desire and plunge into her right here and right now. But where was the fun in that?

  Removing his hand, he lowered her dress, readjusted her coat, brushed back her hair and planted a soothing kiss on her forehead.

  “You’re a good girl, kitten. Let’s go.”

  Chapter Six

  Gabi grabbed his forearm. “Go? Where? Why?”

  “Home.”

  Her brow furrowed, and her grip slackened. “What do you mean? Did I do something wrong?”

  “Not at all, kitten.”

  “Then?”

  “That’s how far our play will be going tonight.”

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am.” Marcus raised his eyebrows. “What’s the issue?”

  “The problem is I thought you were going to get me off or we were going to fuck in the alley.”

  Marcus pulled her into his arms. He clasped her face between his hands. She was so delicate, so sweet, so warm, and so rebellious.

  “No. I’ve told you several times throughout the night that we weren’t going to have sex. The problem is, kitten, you’ve forgotten what it is to submit. You’ve been bottoming and getting your dose of masochism, but submission? You haven’t opened yourself up to anyone to allow yourself to really feel and remember what it’s like. Dominance and submission aren’t about simply fucking. There’s so much more involved.”

  “You want me to open up to you and become a lap dog.”

  Marcus tsked. He clasped his hands around her neck. Gabi’s eyes widened.

  “If I wanted a dog, I’d get one, kitten.” He slid his hands lower, across her shoulder blades, to her breasts, cupping them over her clothes. “I want you to open up to me because I want you to be free from the prison of your mind. You’ve been living on the surface for far too long. I want to delve deeper.”

  Marcus pressed his mouth to hers. Gently. Barely a whisper of skin against skin. Gabi tilted forward, perhaps unconsciously, searching for more. He gave it to her. Intensifying the kiss, pouring his emotions into the moment. She moaned. Marcus found the hem of her dress and raised it. He stroked her dripping cunt, teasing her entrance with his index.

  “Marcus, Sir,” she gasped. “Please.”

  “Hush, my dirty kitty. You don’t want to create a scandal.”

  He kissed her again while pushing two digits into her. She mewled into his mouth, and he pumped hard and fast. She held onto his shoulders, her hips bucking almost desperately as she attempted to get off.

  Marcus withdrew. This was the part he hated the most, but it had to be done. He took a small step back and brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. He swallowed his groan and instead focused on Gabi. She stared at him, confusion clear in the tiny wrinkles between her eyebrows.

  “Sir?”

  “I hate to do this, Gabi, but if we’re going to make it work rules must be established.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s one thing to be inquisitive. It’s another to question what I do. I chose to not get you off because I want to take things slowly, and when you do orgasm, I want it to be mind-blowing. I wanted to wait and surprise you later on tonight.”

  Gabi hung her head. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  “I accept your apology, kitten, but I’m still going to punish you.”

  Her eyes flared.

  “You’re going to go home like this, on edge. You will not masturbate.”


  “But—”

  “I will find out if you do, kitten. Come on, I’ll walk you to your car, and we’ll make arrangements for tomorrow.”

  Taking her hand, he tugged her into his arms and gave her one last kiss. She melted into him.

  “Tomorrow?”

  “In less than twenty-four hours,” he promised.

  Gabi smiled, making his heart constrict with love.

  “All right, Sir.”

  Chapter Seven

  Gabi stood in front of the gym. She’d never been here before, but the place looked nice enough from the outside. Glass windows allowed a glimpse into the machines within and the people already training. She stifled a yawn and checked her phone. She was early.

  She’d agreed to meet Marcus here, even though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d stepped inside a gym. There was something about Marcus she couldn’t pinpoint. Something familiar. She wasn’t sure if it was in the ring of his voice or what, but at times, it felt as if she knew him. Gabi toyed with the strap of her gym bag. That was impossible.

  “Antonio is dead,” she murmured.

  And anyone who had worked with him was in prison. She’d seen it in the news. Barely a week after she’d left, she’d caught the story on TV. The FBI had stormed the place, and Antonio had been killed. His lackeys had been imprisoned and his drugs impounded. She was safe.

  Soon after, with the help of the program for women victims of domestic abuse, she’d been able to move cities, study, adopt a new identity. No one from that world could have found her. Heck, no one probably even knew she existed. Antonio hardly let her out of the house, and when he did, she was always under his supervision, unable to look at anyone unless he went into a rage.

  Gabi shuddered. That was all in the past. Marcus had nothing to do with her ex. He was a successful businessman.

  He’d also worked in security.

  The nagging voice in her head didn’t shut up. She pushed it aside. All of Antonio’s people had been arrested.

  Antonio had guards. What if Marcus had been one of them?

  Impossible. Surely, she’d recognize him. Right?

  It’s been eight years. People change. You’ve changed.

  Precisely. She was no longer the puny woman she’d been back then. Now, she was strong, confident. She didn’t compromise her integrity for anyone.

  “Stop it, Gabi,” she whispered harshly. “You’re making a mountain out of an anthill.”

  This was why she’d been avoiding BDSM relationships. It was one thing to scene with a Dom. It was a moment. A flash of pain, a pang of pleasure, and then it was done. Marcus, however, asked for more. He didn’t want a Polaroid; he wanted a video. He wanted her to open up to him. To become vulnerable.

  Her heart picked up its speed, her hands turning clammy.

  She could walk away. Go home. Pretend she’d never met him. Except, she didn’t want to. She was curious. Excited. She felt truly alive for the first time in years. She didn’t have to be here, but she yearned to give BDSM a second chance.

  All she had to remember was to be safe. Whatever they chose to do, Marcus had to respect her limits. If she didn’t feel comfortable, she could stop at any moment. She clenched her fists. She could play the submissive for a few more days and enjoy the sex she knew would be off the charts. After all, the chemistry between them was without a doubt more than present.

  The gym door opened, and Marcus appeared, wearing a sleeveless shirt and gym shorts. Her libido skyrocketed at the sight of his well-defined muscles. Her pulse quickened, and upon seeing his welcoming grin, she couldn’t help but respond with one of her own.

  “Sorry to have kept you waiting, I was helping a customer.”

  “I thought of going inside, but you told me to wait here.”

  “Good girl.”

  He pulled her in close and kissed the top of her head. She rested her palms against his chest and sighed. The moment was intimate, as if they’d known each other for ages and had done this countless times.

  “Let’s go inside. It’s freezing balls out here.”

  She chuckled.

  “If you’re partly naked, it sure is.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  Taking her gym bag from her, he slung it over his shoulder and grasped her hand.

  “Come on, comedic kitten.”

  They entered the building. Warm air hit her in the face, mingling with a pleasant citrusy aroma and the faint smell of gym equipment. At the front desk stood an exotic brunette who greeted them enthusiastically.

  “She’s with me, Kelsey,” Marcus said to the perky receptionist. When they were out of earshot, he whispered, “I didn’t want her to try and convince you to join the gym.” He chuckled. “Also, we’re not going to the main training area.”

  “We’re not?”

  “I have other plans for you.”

  They made their way past the weight and machine room and to the back of the building. Marcus opened a glass door for her.

  “Office area,” he said. “I’ve got a room for my accountant, and then my office. Come in.”

  She entered the space. It wasn’t large, but it was efficiently organized. Dark wooden bookshelves held large folders, awards, and pictures. The table in front of the window, whose blinds were drawn, was stacked with papers, and a laptop. He dropped her gym bag on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

  “I would have imagined with you being the owner you hardly spent time here.”

  “Quite the contrary. It’s my business. I take care of what’s mine.”

  Gabi swallowed. She didn’t miss the innuendo.

  “So what are we doing here?”

  “I’m glad you asked,” Marcus said, going to a drawer on his desk. He pulled out a pink pouch. Pinpricks of flailing nerves swam through Gabi’s stomach. She didn’t know what was inside the bag, but all manner of possibilities filled her mind.

  “Any idea of what I have here?”

  She shook her head, then bit her lip. BDSM was about honesty. She’d agreed to being here, and she had to give it her best shot. “I have a few,” she admitted.

  “Tell me,” Marcus said, his voice holding a husky tone that made her body yearn for him.

  “Nipple clamps, a necklace, nipple weights. I’m not sure.”

  “Here, don’t open it. Simply hold it.”

  He handed her the pouch. The velvet was soft against her fingertips, and she took an instant to appreciate the texture. Then, the weight of the object within caught her attention. She traced its outline, the shape familiar. Arousal slammed into her. Gabi cleared her throat—and they hadn’t even started.

  “It’s an anal plug,” she said.

  “Bingo.”

  Her ass clenched, and she shuffled her feet.

  “Tell me what’s going through your mind,” Marcus said.

  “I haven’t used one of these in years. I—I used to love them.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “It’s difficult to explain.” She thought back to the years with Antonio. Whenever they used the plugs, she had felt desired and wanted.

  “Try.”

  “It made me feel connected to my Dom. His,” she said. “It made me feel his. I did it for him, and it pleased him. It was a great feeling. It turned me on.”

  Marcus nodded.

  “I want us to have that connection. It’s a small plug because I wasn’t sure how familiar you were with it, but I’d love it if you wore it for me, for a while.”

  Gabi glanced at her hand where she still held the toy. Saying yes would be giving him access to her in a way no other Dom had had since Antonio. She took in a deep breath. Her hardened nipples rubbed against her shirt, a concealed reminder of her lustful need for more.

  It’s just a plug. Just a while. It’s not your heart or your soul.

  She looked up at Marcus. He regarded her intently, his green eyes having darkened to a deeper shade. Her cheeks heated.

  “I would like that, Sir.”
>
  Chapter Eight

  Something in Marcus’s chest twinged. She’d said yes. He’d expected her to refuse or at least to put up some resistance, but she hadn’t. Excitement coursed through him. Now came the second question.

  “Will you let me put it in?”

  Gabi sucked in a breath. He waited for her to decide. If he pushed too fast, she’d refuse, and he couldn’t risk such a thing. She was opening up to him. Even if she didn’t realize it, every time she said yes was a ray of sunlight filtering through her shell.

  “Yes” she said firmly.

  Mason pressed his lips and squared his shoulders. Could he take it a step further?

  “Ask me to put it in you,” he demanded, making sure to keep his voice steady yet not aggressive.

  Gabi changed the pouch from one hand to the other. Then, she dipped her head and stretched her arms, presenting the bag in her splayed palm. Dear Lord, could she be any more perfect?

  “Please, Sir, will you put the plug in me?”

  Marcus rested his palm over hers and took the satchel. Yes, apparently, she could.

  “I’d be honored, kitten,” he said. “Lower your pants, and bend over my desk, legs open. I’m going to get some lube.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Marcus returned to the drawer and picked up the lube he’d placed there. He glanced at Gabi out of the corner of his eyes. She was bent over, removing her shoes. His cock, already hard, twitched, no doubt leaking pre-cum. His. She didn’t completely realize it yet, but it was a fact. Tension coiled in his belly. It was time.

  Gabi shuffled toward him. Without looking at him, she placed her hands on the table, spread her legs and leaned forward. Marcus went around his desk to stand behind her. From this position, her cunt was visible. Plump, with a scattering of hair, it glistened with juices. It’d be so easy to just fuck her. He grinned. Not yet. He strode forward and ran his fingertips across her ass cheeks. Gabi let out a long breath.

  “That’s it, kitten, relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Slipping lower, he glided his digits across her pussy. Her heat called to him, urging him to do more. He pushed his index into her, and she moaned. Marcus pumped slowly and introduced another finger. Gabi rocked back and forth.

 

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