by Gemma James
Katherine studied him, a brewing storm shadowing her features as realization dawned. But he was too busy watching for my reaction to notice. Too busy shooting a promise of dark truth from his eyes.
“I’ll fuck her for hours. She’ll take my cock in her cunt, in her ass, in her damn mouth. I’ll make her scream my name for as long as it takes until the thought of looking at another man makes you sick.”
I detected no bullshit in his tone. No bluffing. The warning was real. Set in stone. He’d laid down the law. For the rest of my life, if I stepped out of line again, he held the power to hit me where it would hurt the most…just like I’d hit his bullseye.
Silence descended upon the three of us. Gage drew in a breath as he zipped his pants.
“You’re free to go,” he told Katherine.
“But—”
“That will be all. You know where the door is.”
Hell, if that bitch didn’t look disappointed as she left us alone in the basement.
22. Common Ground
The two of us were like oil and water, fire and ice. Love and Hate. None of those things mixed, but Gage and I were drawn to each other, nevertheless. Apart, we straddled the border of sane, but together we were a nuclear meltdown waiting to happen. Toxic chemicals emitting fatal fumes.
None of that mattered when we were in bed because our compatibility in that single, intense place overrode the incompatibilities.
Katherine’s presence in the midst of our chaos was but a faint memory as his arms sheltered me, enclosed me in his possessive embrace. We sat in the middle of the bed, naked, the sheets a puddle around our joined bodies. Moans rent the air between frantic kisses. I clung to his sweat-slicked chest, my cheek on his shoulder as I rode him.
“Baby, yes.” His strong hands gripped my hips, jerking me onto his cock in forceful plunges. “Fuck yes.” He groaned. “Take me deep.”
We came together at regular intervals. Up. Down. Up. Down.
Steady.
Sensual.
Sex in its basest form, yet what we were doing eclipsed fucking. We were crashing into each other in a wave of forgiveness, of absolution.
I cried out, just a few strokes away from creaming all over him. “Gage, please…oh God, please. I need to come.” I panted, teeth pulling on my lower lip.
“You don’t have permission.”
“Please…please…can’t hold back. Begging you…” I clawed at his shoulders, about to climb out of my skin and burrow into his.
He brought me down on his cock hard and held me there. “Look at me, baby.”
I veered back, my breath coming fast between parted lips, and met his gaze—his heated, seductive gaze that pulled me into the depths of intense blue. I could lose myself forever in those eyes. In his arms. In the joining of our bodies.
Forever didn’t seem long enough.
“Do I have your whole heart?” he asked, watching me closely.
“It beats for only you.”
“Do I own this body?”
“Always.”
“Am I yours?”
“I hope so.” I leaned forward and caught his mouth, taking what I needed. Hoping he’d give it to me.
And he did. He thrust his tongue into my mouth and moaned in a way that made me whimper. Low and deep in his throat. The taste of him sent me reeling.
“I need you,” I whispered against his lips.
He expelled a shaky breath. “You have me. Nothing and no one is taking you from me, or I from you.” He ran a thumb over my lower lip. “Do you have something you need to ask me?”
Only every day for the rest of my life. “Will you forgive me?”
He pushed my damp bangs back and kissed my forehead. “You taught me about forgiveness, Kayla. You showed me what it meant to be forgiven. Because of your grace and heart, I learned to love. Baby, you were forgiven before you ever committed the crime.”
I kissed him again, tears flooding my eyes. Joy grabbing hold of my soul. “I love you, Gage.”
“Who am I, Kayla?”
“My Master.”
Always.
1. Impetuous
Present - 1 day before Thanksgiving
I will not fucking cry.
“Damn it,” I muttered as a tear escaped. Gritting my teeth, I blinked rapidly and stuffed more clothing into the overflowing suitcase. An absurd amount of dresses rose above the rim, and as I shoved the pile down, I wished like hell I had some pants. Or even a few pairs of sweats. Definitely some underwear. But those finer things in life weren’t allowed—not when it meant blocking my husband’s access to his favorite place between my thighs.
I wrestled with the zipper, adding my body weight to the top of the case, and finally zipped it shut. If I walked out that door, I’d have nothing but what lay in a tossed mess inside. The remainder of my clothing filled the shelves, drawers, and hangers inside the walk-in wardrobe I shared with Gage.
Oh, God…Eve.
How was I supposed to tell her? She’d miss her bedroom, her toys. She’d miss him.
The reality of what I was doing hit me, and in a fit of anger, I dragged the suitcase off the bed and kicked the damned thing until it fell over on its side. Okay, so I wasn’t exactly thinking logically, but didn’t a pregnant woman have the right to a meltdown after finding out her husband was nothing but a lying—
Don’t go there.
But I went there anyway, torturing myself with every word the bitch had spoken. Nearly doubling over at the thought, I pressed a desperate fist to my lips and stifled a sob; sucked in quick breaths before letting them out in hot spurts that dampened my knuckles. Where had the tears come from? I’d promised myself I wouldn’t cry anymore.
Pull it together, Kayla.
He was due to arrive in the driveway any minute now. Simone had begged me to leave before he got home, but if I were going to do this, I had to confront him first. Otherwise, he would never let me go.
A hand dropped onto my shoulder, warm with comforting support. Simone didn’t say a word, but she didn’t need to. I knew she wouldn’t leave my side, and that’s why I’d called her. She was my safety net, the one person who wouldn’t hesitate to hand Gage his ass if he tried railroading me. She was here to make sure I got out.
“You don’t owe him anything,” she said.
Nodding, I wiped my eyes. “I know.”
I didn’t know shit. My husband was the fucking devil incarnate, but he loved me. Didn’t he? Or had it all been a lie? That was the problem—I didn’t know anymore. My emotions had me trapped in the eye of a typhoon named Gage Channing.
Simone’s hand slid from my shoulder as I rebuilt my emotional fortress. I stood to the side in bitter numbness while she hauled my suitcase upright. She headed toward the bedroom door, rollers sounding on the hardwood behind her.
“It’s okay to need some space, you know. If he loves you, he’ll understand.”
Folding my arms, I sank onto the end of the mattress. This particular spot bled with memories. He’d bend me over in a heartbeat and blast some sense into my ass if I let him. I couldn’t let him get that close, or I’d crack wide open. Hell, I’d probably fracture regardless.
“I need to do this,” I said, shaking my head just as his car sounded. “I need some space, but I also need…”
Answers.
Simone lingered by the bedroom door, chewing her bottom lip. Uncertainty was a strange feature on her face. She didn’t do uncertain—she was a pick-a-path-and-follow-it kind of woman.
“I’ll be okay, Simone. I promise.”
She let out a sigh. “I’ll be right out there,” she said, jabbing a finger in the direction of the living room. She left the door cracked open upon her exit, and her absence echoed in my ears. The room hummed a solitary tune, and each lonesome note poked at my will. But a single question repeated on loop within the chaos of my foggy mind.
Could I really go through with this?
2. Sadistic
Past - 18 days before
Halloween
I was going to be sick. The inevitability of it sat in the back of my throat, burning like acid. My stomach cramped, and a sweaty chill broke out on my skin. I wasn’t immune to the irony in that, but it was true.
As I watched Katherine trail a manicured hand down Gage’s arm, I seethed hot and cold, raged with clammy sickness. I lifted a hand, a millisecond away from shoving his office door all the way open, but his harsh voice made me freeze.
“Get your hands off of me.”
Katherine jerked back as if he’d burned her, and only then did I realize that I’d seen her touching him for maybe two seconds.
But two seconds had been enough to make me sick. Literally sick. Before Gage or Katherine spotted me, and before anyone on this floor questioned why I was lingering outside my husband’s office, I strode toward the women’s restroom, my head held high with false confidence. Hopefully, anyone looking at me wouldn’t see the truth on my face.
That I’d caught him with her again, and I was about to come undone over it.
A phone rang, fingers clicked over a keyboard, and I heard the distinct scratching of someone jabbing down quick and purposeful notes with a pencil. I held my shit together long enough to reach the safety of the ladies room. Thank God it was empty. I scurried to my knees in one of the stalls and lost my pride along with my breakfast.
He’d told me to meet him for lunch. Why would he do that if Katherine was going to be here? He knew how the sight of that bitch got under my skin. Gage had a sadistic streak as black as the desert at midnight, but when it came to Katherine Mitchell, he exercised care. In fact, he went out of his way to spare me her presence.
Because he was fucking her? Or because he loved me enough to shield me from her?
I hated how she was the weak spot in my armor, the single chink that made the rest of me fall apart. I didn’t want to doubt him, but the image of her four months ago in the basement, eager and on her knees, was a searing brand on my memory. It didn’t matter that he’d only threatened to follow through to make a point, to show me what could be if I dared to betray him again.
The mental damage had been done.
Tears stung my eyes. Damn, I had to get my shit together. I couldn’t go back out there and face the employees of Channing Enterprises—face him—looking like I’d just had a breakdown in the women’s restroom. Even if that was kind of true. Turning the faucet on, I shot my reflection a stern frown then splashed cold water onto my face.
Five minutes later, I left the restroom mostly composed. As always, the curious gazes of my former coworkers burned into my back. I didn’t check to see if they were watching me, but I felt it. Maybe I was paranoid, though I didn’t think so. My marriage to CEO Gage Channing was a cesspool for gossip mongers, especially since Katherine and her son had come into our lives. The selfish, jealous wife in me wanted to keep Conner at arm’s length, but he was just a kid, and he had the best parts of Gage in him, so much so that I found it shocking his paternity hadn’t come out sooner.
Not for the first time, I wondered why Katherine had waited so long to tell Gage about Conner. Maybe marrying me had been the final push that sent her over the edge. Maybe she’d always believed Gage to be hers, so coming clean about a secret like that hadn’t seemed important. Maybe the idea of coming clean had even scared her—until another woman had taken him away and that had scared her more.
Well, the bitch couldn’t have him. And speaking of Katherine, she was thankfully nowhere in sight when I entered his office.
“You’re late,” he said, dark head bowed toward the screen of his laptop.
I shut and locked the door. “I know. I’m sorry.” I crossed to the front of his executive desk and bent over, lifting my skirt as I did so. I could explain how seeing Katherine had caught me off guard, but I didn’t want to stir that pot right now, and I definitely didn’t want to go into how I’d puked in the women’s restroom, even if telling him might spare me a punishment.
He might think it meant something else, and with a stab to the heart, I acknowledged once again that it wasn’t going to happen. Not after all of this time. We’d been married for over a year and a half now, screwing like rabbits the whole time without any form of protection, yet I continued to be…broken.
The painful reminder of that almost drowned me in despair until the texture of his suit against my outer thigh pulled me from my dark thoughts. I bit my lip as he grabbed my ass with a warm palm. He wasn’t gentle, and the rough way he handled me made my insides clench in the best way imaginable. Anticipation zinged through me as I waited for his punishment. I had no doubt he was going to spank me for arriving late, but he knew what the heat of his palm on my bare ass did to me, so calling it a form of discipline was a stretch.
“I can practically hear the wheels turning in your head. What’s on your mind?” he asked.
I gnawed on my bottom lip some more and considered what to tell him. What not to tell him. “I’m thinking of how turned on I am.”
“Are you aching for my hand? Is that why you were late?”
I groaned. “No.”
“I’m going to need a little clarification.”
“I wasn’t late on purpose.” A dark note entered my tone, and I hoped he didn’t pick up on it.
“But you’ll take a spanking for it anyway?”
I nodded.
“Fuck,” he groaned. “You’ve got me so damn hard.” He smacked my ass to punctuate just how hard he was. “Spread your legs.”
I gripped my skirt and did as told, exposing myself to the gentle caress of air on my pussy. The remnants of Katherine and her whorish fingers vanished from my mind. There was nothing but wet heat between my legs. I ached for him there. Tingled. Burned.
He’d been away at a conference for a few days and had gotten back late last night. I’d already gone to bed, and instead of waking me to claim what was his, he’d shown a rare bout of sweetness by letting me sleep. But going so long without his cock was beginning to drive me insane.
He trailed a finger between my butt cheeks, drawing a surprised gasp from me. “I need you,” I moaned.
My words gave him pause, and his touch lingered but did little more. God, he could be such a tease.
“Please.”
Finally, he touched me exactly how I wanted…no, needed with his thumb teasing my asshole while two fingers slipped inside me.
I moaned at the welcome intrusion. “Feels so good.”
“I’m going to spank the fuck out of this ass.”
And he did. He walloped me with more force than I expected, considering his playful mood. I gritted my teeth to keep quiet, dancing from foot to foot between each hit, but on his final, most brutal strike I failed to bite back a yelp.
He palmed my right ass cheek and squeezed. “Beautifully pink.”
My legs were rigid pillars of steel, driven wide open by the strength of my need for his cock. “Please,” I said, groaning the word. I fisted my skirt to keep from touching myself.
“Shhh,” he said, shoving his fingers between my lips. “I have other uses for this mouth. Do you have any idea how badly I want you gagging on my cock? I’ve thought of nothing else but getting into your mouth and ass since I’ve been gone.”
My heartbeat stuttered, and I would have begged for mercy if he’d given me a chance. Instead, I moaned my protest around his fingers. He understood exactly what I was objecting to.
“I’ve gone easy on you, but you’ve grown spoiled. Entitled even. I own your ass. We agreed on our anniversary that it’s mine to take as I please.” Leaning against my back, he pressed his erection into my ass cheek and brought his lips to my ear. “I please,” he said.
I bit down on his fingers in response, instinctively clenching my ass at the thought of him shoving his cock inside. Abruptly, he sprang back. Turning to face him, I gripped his desk behind me.
“Not here, Gage. Please.”
He gestured to his desk, eyes smoldering. “Bare your cunt.”
Hot energy blazed between us, and exhilaration squeezed my heart, rushed through my veins.
Then he smiled and asked his favorite question. “Who am I?”
“My Master.”
“Always, Kayla.” He dropped to his knees and placed his hands on my thighs, his thumbs digging into my skin as he spread me even wider. He wet his lips with a furtive dart of his tongue. “Who decides when you come?”
“You do, Master.”
Please, please, please, please. I need to come. So fucking ba—
“I’ve decided you’re not coming.” He shot me his devil’s grin. “But I’m going to lick you right here on my desk until you beg me to.”
I almost cried at his words. Defeated, I closed my eyes and let my head fall back, swallowed a frustrated growl. Fuuuck…his breath would be the end of me, drifting over my exposed pussy with enough heat to make my blood rush right there. And his tongue…damn, that tongue.
Wet and on fire, sliding between my lips with perfected finesse. Easing through my slickness with lazy purpose, as if he had all day to eat me out. Which, of course, he did. He always had time to torture me.
“You’re not leaving here satisfied.” Slowly, he inched two expert fingers into my pussy. “You’re going to leave my office with pink cheeks, a throbbing cunt, and beyond excited to get fucked in the ass tonight.”
I groaned.
“Eyes on me, Kayla.”
“Master, I’m begging you.” With a roll of my shoulders, I dipped my head, chin to chest, and returned his gaze beneath hooded lids.
He had me gone already. Primed and ready. My nipples puckered to the point of pain, the very tips straining against my bra, begging for freedom from the sheer fabric so he’d fondle them. Lick them. Pinch them.
