The Devil's Kiss Series Boxed Set

by Gemma James

  My moment of escape passed, and he stepped away. The sound of him removing his belt made me cringe, and the whoosh of that familiar strip of leather reached my ears an instant before it hit my ass. I bit down on the gag to keep silent, though the pain wasn’t bad. Yet. It’d get worse; it always did. I jerked each time he struck my tender bottom and counted the lashes in my head. Fourteen…fifteen…sixteen…seventeen…

  My eyes flooded with unshed tears at twenty, and by twenty-five the first drop fell. I felt dirty and worthless—much worse then ever before, because I’d allowed this to happen this time. He’d given me a choice, and I was still restrained, trapped by my body’s need for him, helpless and at the mercy of his belt.

  Why hadn’t I stopped this? This was insane.

  A whimper escaped my throat, and he stopped. “Naughty girl.”

  I jumped when he pulled the thong aside and inserted a small vibrator between my damp folds.

  “Close your legs to hold it there. If you drop it, you won’t be allowed to orgasm tonight. And you won’t have my permission until I’m deep inside your ass.” He swatted my bottom to make his point. “Not a sound, Kayla.”

  He was the devil.

  I scratched at the window as he continued the lashes. In the back of my mind I realized he wasn’t putting all his strength behind them. I knew how unbearable a real whipping was at his hands, and this wasn’t it. But it stung like hell, and I held onto the sensation to keep from climaxing.

  I wanted him. Inside me, in my mouth. I didn’t care—I just wanted him, and fooling myself otherwise was a waste of time.

  “Your ass is such a sexy shade of red.”

  Smack!

  Unforgiving leather delivered punishment for several more minutes, and just when he was about to stop, I’d moan or whimper and it’d start all over again. The pain was harder to handle, more intense, as were the vibrations going through my body. Tears and sweat drenched my face, and I stood straight as a pillar, clenching my thighs to keep the vibrator in place. Orgasm teased from the outskirts, there…but just out of reach.

  The pain overshadowed the pleasure.

  I bit hard on the gag as the last few minutes drove me to my limits. Finally, he dropped the belt. “Keep that vibrator where it belongs.” He bent me over and pushed into my ass, inch by inch, and I didn’t even consider protesting.

  A loud boom sounded outside, followed by another, and another…he slid in further, removed the blindfold and gag, and a guttural scream tore from my throat. I arched my spine as an orgasm washed over me—swift in the onslaught, but deliciously long in duration. The Las Vegas strip exploded in a dizzying whirl of color, and I knew the fireworks outside couldn’t begin to compete with the ones between Gage and me.

  8. Gamble

  The man liked to gamble. A lot. He’d been at it for most of the day, and if I’d harbored any guilt about the amount of money he’d spent on Eve’s care, I didn’t now. I was disgusted at how easily he threw away his money, but I couldn’t help but watch in morbid fascination.

  So this was how the other half lived. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it.

  The guy next to us arranged the dice the way he wanted them. His blond hair brushed his collar, and every time he leaned forward to roll, his shirt sleeve grazed my arm. He shot a grin at me before tossing the dice toward the opposite end of the craps table. The large crowd pressed in on all sides, and everyone erupted in cheers.

  “Easy six!” One of the gaming attendants said.

  Gage just won some of this money back. He leaned against my back and reached in to collect. We’d been standing in this position for the past hour; him behind me, his arms caging me in and his cock nudging my ass. He’d been rock-hard the whole time, and not even the man next to us, with his bold and inviting smile, distracted Gage from his desire. I tensed every time the guy aimed his flirtations in my direction, but so far Gage hadn’t unhinged.

  But he was about to.

  His rum-scented breath drifted across my bare shoulder, and he brought his lips to my ear. “If he looks at you like that one more time, neither of you are going to like the outcome.” He pushed his erection into my left butt cheek a little harder and tightened his arm around my waist. “Quit being so damn sexy.”

  Of course, in Gage Channing’s twisted mind, this would be my fault.

  Poker chips were dropped and picked up, clacking together in the triumph of a win, and excited chatter charged the air as everyone prepared for the next come-out roll. Mr. Big Flirt did something stupid; he touched me.

  “It was all you, baby! You’re my lucky charm!” His fingers circled my wrist, and he wrenched my arm up in the air, as if we were champions celebrating a win.

  Oh no. No, no, no…

  Gage clamped his fingers around the guy’s wrist and squeezed until my hand fell free. “Touch her again, and I’ll break off your fucking fingers.”

  The guy shrank back, his eyes going wide. I couldn’t blame him. If Gage hadn’t so effectively trapped me between him and the table, I would have done the same thing. I didn’t have to see his face to know his features were twisted in rage.

  “Dude, you need to chill out. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  One of the table attendants interrupted their argument. “Is there a problem here, Mr. Channing?”

  “Yes. This asshole thinks it’s okay to harass and paw at my date.”

  And that was the last I saw of Mr. Big Flirt, though his indignation at being escorted away like a criminal lingered. Just like Tom’s had at work. Hating how everyone’s focus was drawn to me, I pushed away from the table. “Let me out.” I cranked my neck and glared at him. “Right now, Gage. I’m not kidding.”

  He backed away, and I bolted. Tears threatened to spill over as I weaved through the multitude of gamblers. Heavy smoke drifted in the air, which only made my eyes burn more. Gage caught up to me at the elevators. We both entered, and I kept my attention fastened on the doors, unwilling to look or speak to him.

  And he didn’t speak to me.

  I wasn’t sure what was going to happen when we got back to our room, but it couldn’t be good. Would he be able to see through his haze of red to hear me say no? Or was I in for another horrendous beating? Hysteria rushed up and lodged under my breastbone, and I could hardly breathe as the doors slid open at our floor. He dug his fingers into my arm and dragged me to our suite. My face was already wet with tears.

  “Please, Gage—”

  “Shut up.”

  He swiped his card, the light flickered green, and the beep signaled the beginning of what I knew was going to be a hellish night.

  “I’m saying no,” I said as soon as he shoved me through the door. “Wha…whatever”—I swallowed the vomit rising in my throat—“whatever you’re gonna do, stop.”

  The door slammed, and he pushed me against it. “I said shut up.” His hands shook, which only intensified the terror fisting my heart. “What I’m going to do,” he said, his gaze dropping to my mouth, “is kiss the fuck out of you.” He tangled his hands in my hair, leaned in, and sighed against my lips. “Do you have a problem with that?”

  No, but I should have.

  It was my only thought as he took control of my mouth. Hot tongues swirling together, the taste of rum on his lips, the way he moaned my name before sucking my lower lip between his teeth, and his fingers tightening in my hair, pulling against my scalp—every sensation zipped through me like a firefly. I should definitely have a problem with this.

  I couldn’t recall the space of time between the door and the bed, but the mattress welcomed the weight of my body, and Gage blanketed me, his mouth never leaving mine, never failing to suck the free will from my soul with the poison of his kiss. He grabbed at my dress, ripping and tearing, and his frantic fingers clutched handfuls of me; my hips, my thighs, shoving my legs wide open, pushing my knees up an instant before he slammed into me. He was like a beast, desire his claws, and I came apart under his lethal need.
/>   “Gage!” I urged him deeper, spreading my thighs further and arching to meet him. He pressed high into me, so high all I could feel was him.

  He grunted, his forearms shaking on either side as he pumped. “Who am I, Kayla?” He plunged one more time, violently, and then went still.

  I met his gaze—maniacal eyes possessing me—and shuddered. My heart feared him, but the gate of my sexual need was manned by him, owned by him.

  And he knew it.

  “Say it, or I’ll stop right now and cuff your hands to the headboard. I’ll make you edge all night until you’re begging me to fuck you.”

  “Master.” I tilted my hips upward. “You’re my Master. Don’t stop.”

  With a growl, his body engulfed mine, smothering and consuming, and the only thing more painful than being devoured so thoroughly was the sound of my unrestrained moans, a traitorous testimony of his control over me. My need for him ripped from my throat and poured from my being with every thrust.

  And then I was chanting his name. “Master…Master…Master…” Moaning and moaning and moaning. “Master…Master…Master.” More moaning, more thrusting…and he was getting off on every sexual plea.

  I was getting off on him.

  I dug my nails into his shoulders and scratched my unbridled desperation down his back, on the cusp of splintering. It was right there for the taking—and with stunned frustration, I realized why my body wasn’t shattering.

  I was waiting for his permission.

  “Let me come, Master.”

  He groaned. “Say it again. Tell me how bad you want it.”

  I grabbed fistfuls of bedding, and a pitiful, keening cry broke loose. I rose to meet him, again and again, and gasped my plea. “Please! Give me permission, Master!”

  He groaned again, an unrestrained sound that vibrated to my core. “Fuck, woman, I’m never letting you go.” He gripped my head and forced my gaze to his. “Come for me.”

  I fell into oblivion.

  His sapphire eyes drank me in as I came undone, holding me prisoner in their depths until the last wave carried me to a place only he could send me. I was gasping, struggling just to breathe, when his control began to slip. I watched him in wonder, in awe by the raw pleasure twisting his features. We’d never been so close as we were in this moment; he’d never allowed himself to go like this, had never allowed me to see it. He buried himself to the hilt, and his forehead fell against mine.

  “Kayla…” He squeezed his eyes shut and moaned. “Baby…”

  I buried my hands in his hair, fingers brushing the sweat at his nape. The sound of his vulnerability was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. He cried out, hoarse and powerful, sensual and conquering, a sound of unstoppable release that poured out of him as he spilled into me.

  9. Lion's Den

  Gage gave me the ultimate Vegas experience on our last night in Sin City. Cirque du Soleil, a ridiculously expensive dinner at Guy Savoy—even a helicopter tour at nightfall. He was the epitome of charm, from the way he opened doors for me to the way he guided me with a hand to the small of my back. All the women we came in contact with flirted with him, and he fooled them all into believing the facade.

  He’d even fooled me, for a while. But then we’d boarded his jet, and he’d reverted back to the same old Gage by pushing to me to my knees. And I hadn’t protested. I’d grown wet between my legs as I swallowed every last drop of him. That was how he’d left me on my doorstep—hot and wanting him, despite the chilly late night air. With one final kiss, a quick brush of his lips to mine, he’d disappeared from my life. Just like that.

  That had been two weeks ago.

  He’d transferred me to another department the week following our trip, and there’d been no phone calls or demands. He hadn’t sought me out once, other than to send a copy of our voided contract. Now I was a bewildered mess because his actions disappointed me. I couldn’t explain it—this hollow in my chest he’d left behind. I wanted my freedom, and I still despised him for the way he’d hurt me, but…

  I missed him. I missed the way he consumed me, missed the way he sent me crashing into deep space. I thought about scheduling an appointment with a shrink, but the thought of divulging the cause of my stress humiliated me too much. He’d used and abused me, and now that he’d let me go, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

  And all the while, Ian stood by, kind, understanding, and displaying the patience of a saint. He’d stopped by every day to see me—at the hospital, at home, even after work. But we didn’t talk about it. Gage sat between us, an unspoken entity. My horror at what I’d done—at how easily I’d succumbed to my desire for Gage—made me keep Ian at arm’s length.

  I wiped the unsettling thoughts from my mind as the elevator approached the fifth floor. The doors slid open, and as a tall brunette entered, I let the tension slowly seep from my body. The doors narrowed toward the center, but a black dress shoe stopped them from completing their slide. Gage’s eyes met mine. I sought the farthest corner and tried to fold myself into it—obviously my body understood the threat he represented, even if my heart didn’t, and my heart was beating like a caffeinated little drummer boy.

  The elevator stopped at the third floor where the woman got off and left Gage and me alone. The air was instantly stifling, heavy with fear and the undeniable spark of sexual tension. I jumped when he moved and studied my shoes upon the funny look he gave me.

  “How’s Eve?”

  “She’s good. They’re letting her come home tomorrow.”

  A smile broke out on his face—one so rare I wanted to snap a picture just to have proof that Gage Channing was capable of such a grin. “I’m glad.” The doors opened into the parking garage, and without another word, he exited.

  I puzzled over the strange encounter as I approached my car, heels tapping an echo through the deserted garage. Gage backed out of his spot and disappeared through the exit, and as I opened my car door, a voice from behind stopped me cold. I jumped and whirled.

  Jody stood there, sporting two black eyes and a busted lip.

  “Rick’s been drinking again.” Her mouth trembled, and like a scared child, she folded her arms around herself. “He really had changed, Kayla. He was doing so good.” She dropped her arms to her sides and formed two tight fists. “But you kept him away from Eve, and now he’s going crazy. Why’d you have to be such a bitch?”

  I slammed my door. “Don’t you dare put this on me. He’s dangerous.” I shook my head. “I thought we were friends, Jody. Let me help you.”

  Her bitter laughter bounced off the walls of the garage. “Friends? We haven’t been friends in a long time. Why, Kayla?”

  “I-I don’t know. Eve got sick…” And I’d checked out on life for a while. I’d lost touch with everyone. “I’m worried about you.”

  “Well don’t. Just quit provoking him already.” She took off toward a bright red Honda parked nearby. The tires screeched as she slammed on the gas and raced through the exit.

  Her words percolated in my head all evening, an unwanted distraction that intruded on my time with Eve. I tossed and turned next to her for hours after she fell asleep, unable to stop thinking about my encounters with both Gage and Jody.

  It was past midnight when I found myself in his driveway. I needed to figure out why he drew me to him like a magnet, regardless of how much he hurt me…would always hurt me. People didn’t change, and I wasn’t about to kid myself otherwise. He’d always be the same sadistic bastard with a taste for my pain. I shut off the ignition, and the utter quiet of the night surrounded me. Haunted me. Ghosts weren’t so easily laid to rest in the still of the night.

  Why am I here?

  I had no answer—none that made any sense. He’d let me go. I was free…yet here I was walking into the lion’s den. My limbs quaked as I approached his door, and I almost turned back. I told myself to turn back, even chanted the words in my mind over and over again as if doing so would be enough to convince me. My traitorous fist wasn�
��t listening; it rose and announced my presence.

  Oh God. Oh my freaking God…what the hell am I doing?

  I whirled, intending to sprint to my car, but the door opened.

  “Kayla?”

  Damn. I wished for invisibility as I turned to face him, though I would have settled for the earth fissuring under my feet. The image of him standing there wearing nothing but flannel pajama pants was enough to render me speechless. I’d never seen him in something so casual. I wondered if the fabric was as soft as I imagined. Soft flannel against hard man.

  I shouldn’t have come. I should have stayed far, far away.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Honestly? I don’t know.”

  He quirked a brow. “You don’t know?” I shook my head, and the edge of his mouth turned up. “What do you want, Kayla?”

  You.

  Only I had no idea why. He was like a disease, and the bad cells had multiplied and taken over. He’d infiltrated my system, and now I couldn’t get him out. Even now, standing in the freezing cold, my body flushed with warmth as I liquefied between my legs. Some crazy, destructive instinct rose within me, and I catapulted the last step and launched myself at him. Our mouths crashed together, open and hot and ravenous. We kissed like we were possessed, and maybe we were.

  At least I was. I heard the door slam behind us an instant before he released me.

  “Get on your knees.”

  I fell to them without a second thought and reached for the waistband of all that soft flannel. Trembling with impatient desire—and maybe a little fear—I freed his cock and closed my mouth around him. A groan rumbled from his throat, evidence of his tightly held control. He grabbed my head, his hands shaking, and trapped me between them. No way would he allow me control—he was too close to losing it himself.

  “Hands behind your back,” he ground out between tight lips. I obeyed, and his eyes, so ridiculously blue, never left mine as he fucked my mouth. “Kayla…” His composure fell apart, and his hips took on the rhythm of madness.