The Devil's Kiss Series Boxed Set

by Gemma James

  “There you are,” he whispered, crooking his fingers inside me before sliding them in and out. Slooooow. So damn slow.

  “Oh God, Gage. Please, please…”

  “Will you do anything to come?”

  The bastard was trying to trick me again. I bit my lip to keep from answering. If I said yes, he’d take advantage of any number of things. Nipple clamps. A cane or bullwhip. His favorite gag, nearly as big as my fist.

  My husband was beyond sadistic. He had no qualms about pushing me past hard limits if I gave him the go ahead, and he’d hold me to my green light even if I gave it while under duress.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “The only rules I play by are my own,” he said, then he lowered his mouth to me again.

  Nothing could be as erotic as watching him go down on me. Nothing. I reached under my splayed thighs and gripped the edge of the desk with both hands. He’d given me plenty of lessons on the art of limber movement, and right now I used my body’s capabilities to grind against his face.

  There. God. So close. I was going to come, and I didn’t give a fuck about the consequences. He’d find a reason to take his pound of flesh anyway because he was Gage. “Yeah, yeah,” I panted, barely above a whisper. “So close.”

  He jackhammered his fingers a few more times until I writhed on his desk, and then he shot my hopes down the drain by pulling away. “Good. That’s exactly where I want you.” Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he pulled himself upright and towered over me. “I’ll see you at home. I won’t be late.”

  The fight went out of me, and I plopped onto his desk, trying to catch my breath. “Don’t leave me like this.”

  “You know what I want, Kayla. Give it to me, and I’ll take you there.”

  He wanted to fuck me in the ass—only he wanted me to give it to him willingly. More than willingly. He wanted me to beg him to take me in the one way he knew I despised. If that wasn’t sadistic, then I didn’t know what was.

  3. Secret Little Notes

  Awareness could be a cruel thing, especially when it was of one’s self. The whisper in my head, an irritating voice that sounded eerily close to my own, chanted vicious truth. I was a sex addict. No. I was a Gage Channing addict. I’d given up the idea of quitting him a long time ago, but tonight, as I set the table and prepared to greet him, I realized just how pathetic I was, how far I’d fallen through the fissures in my sanity.

  He’d thrown down the anal gauntlet at the most opportune time—for him anyway—when he had me out of my mind and foaming at the mouth from withdrawal. I could think of nothing else since I’d left his office. My head was crammed full of Gage and sex and the pain he’d inevitably inflict. Poor Eve had been dealing with my dazed-like distraction all afternoon. I’d managed to get my head out of my ass long enough to help her with her homework. We spent thirty minutes gathering leaves from the ground, each one a bright shade of autumn splendor. Afterward, I patiently watched her glue them to an outline of a tree on a white piece of paper.

  But the glue hadn’t even dried before I’d gone back to obsessing over Gage’s plans for my ass. Something rose in my throat. Fear? Maybe. I swallowed that bitter lump of emotion as I layered the ingredients for lasagna into a baking dish. It was Gage’s favorite, but I guess tonight was all about Gage’s favorites, especially anal.

  That word had such intensity to it, such power and control. And fear it I did, because anal was so unpredictable. Sometimes it felt good. Unbelievably good. But other times…

  Gage was careful, but his definition of careful and mine were two entirely different things. Sometimes his sadism took over and my ass became the casualty. We didn’t do it often, and I suspected that was the reason why. Even he didn’t quite trust himself. How could he, when he craved my pain on such a fundamental level?

  Fifteen minutes before I expected him home, a text pinged my cell. He’d given back my phone a few weeks ago, with parental controls to restrict my access, of course. In addition to emergency contacts, and Eve’s school and doctors, I could only call or text him, and vice versa.

  Gage: what’s Eve doing?

  Me: watching tv

  Gage: did she finish her homework?

  Me: yep, all done

  Gage: good, go into the bedroom and touch yourself. I’m checking you when I get home. You’d better be wet.

  I bit back a groan as I tapped out a yes, Master.

  Gage: lock the door and get on all fours on the bed. First thing I want to see is your ass in the air. I’ll be there in a few.

  Damn him.

  Setting my cell on the counter, I eyed the oven and the minutes ticking by. Eve was engrossed in her “TV time,” which gave me a chance to slip down the hall and quietly push the bedroom door open.

  I couldn’t help but love this game that Gage and I played. The rules always changed, and he always won, but the ride was the biggest thrill ever—like sitting white-knuckled at the top of a roller coaster, on the cusp of hurtling down into the unknown. I locked the door, well aware he had a key, and crossed to the bed and got into position. Head down, ass up. I slipped my fingers between my legs and started stroking, going easy because it would take so little to get me there, and that was, under no circumstances, allowed.

  I heard his car through the cracked window in our bedroom, followed by footsteps that led him to the front door. Then silence stole over me, save for my rapid pulse. I listened for a hint of him in the hall but detected not a single footfall. Besides, I didn’t need to hear or see him to know the exact moment he entered the bedroom.

  His presence tingled on my skin, sparking my nerve endings until they sizzled with electricity. My body flushed, and the satin comforter seemed to grow hot under my skin.

  He had me boiling already.

  “Dinner smells wonderful,” he murmured, taking my vulnerable ass in his hands. “According to the timer, we’ve got six minutes.”

  “Six minutes for what?” I gulped. He had to notice the shaky quality of my voice. Six minutes wasn’t nearly enough time. Not for anal.

  “Relax. I’d never rush this. You should know better by now.” His clothing rustled, and I heard a cap open, followed by a squirt. “I’m only prepping you with a plug.”

  I let out a breath. Those weren’t so bad. Sometimes, they were even…arousing. He pressed the cold, hard tip against my rectum, but he didn’t shove it in right away. Instead, he swirled the plug around my reluctant hole, spreading the lubricant.

  He really was taking care with this, but considering my meltdown the last time he fucked me in the backdoor, I shouldn’t be surprised. Gage lived to make me submit, and though my pain never failed to harden his cock, he’d come a long way from the monster he’d once been. Either that or I’d trained myself to accept his will because it was easier than fighting him.

  He nudged my ass with the plug, and I winced, my body automatically tensing.

  “Just relax for me.”

  I blew out a breath. Easier said than done. He probed my ass more firmly, and this time he didn’t hesitate. I didn’t dare move away from him, no matter how much I wanted to. It didn’t matter that this was the biggest fucking butt plug he’d ever used. It didn’t matter that it hurt. If I didn’t hold still and take that plug in silent submission, he would punish me into next Sunday. Finally, the horrendous ring of fire abated, leaving in its wake an anus brimming with his toy.

  He dragged a finger through my slit. “You are so damn wet. Such a dirty, needy girl.” He swatted my ass with enough force to extract a yelp from me. “Take a minute if you need to. I’ll get dinner on the table.” The soft pad of his feet carried him away from me, and his quiet exit echoed in my ears.

  My heartbeat thundered as I made my way into the bathroom. Acclimating to the foreign object in my ass took a few moments, but by the time I’d wiped away the excess lube from between my cheeks, it felt mostly…comfortable.

  Not really arousing though, considering the size. But Gage didn’
t have a small cock, so I understood why he’d chosen this one.

  I turned toward the door, mentally preparing to endure an evening of playing by Gage’s ever-changing rules, but my toiletry bag caught my eye. Had I left it out this morning? I must have because I’d been the last one in here.

  Stupid. So stupid.

  Holding my breath, I listened for footsteps. There were none. I wandered closer to the bag and dug through it until I found what I was looking for. The makeup compact felt cool and solid in my hands—a sharp contrast to the dread that burned in my gut. Before I questioned the wisdom of my actions, I pulled out the tiny piece of paper and unfolded it.

  I’d found the note taped to the front door one day, shortly after Gage had ended my sentence in his cage, and things between us had gone back to a weird sort of normal. But if he found this…

  I shuddered to think of the consequences.

  The paper was worn around the edges from taking it out often and reading the simple two-word message, jotted down in a familiar heart-wrenching scrawl.

  I’m okay.

  4. Backdoor Access

  “I thought you could help me with something next week,” Gage said after dinner. As Eve splashed in the tub, I turned and found Gage’s impressive form filling the open doorway. At first, I thought he was talking to her, as he often came up with things for her to do because she loved helping.

  But he was talking to me. His blue eyes held that familiar sparkle that turned my insides to mush. Gage wore many faces—Master, sadist, disciplinarian, and right now, loving husband. He had something up his sleeve. Something I was going to be happy about. He stepped into the bathroom and sat at the edge of the tub.

  “Channing Enterprises is sponsoring an event in a couple of weeks.”

  I raised a brow, wondering where he was going with this.

  “Basically, it’s an overpriced masquerade ball.” He let a beat pass. “But a portion of the proceeds will go to The Eve Foundation.”

  Wow. Over the summer he’d formed The Eve Foundation to help fight childhood cancers, claiming it was something he’d been thinking about doing for months. But I suspected he’d done it because regardless of his questionable actions, he did have a conscience. Maybe he even felt a little guilty for demanding I stop volunteering at the hospital. I still had no life outside of motherhood or my marriage, but at least he was beginning to cut me some slack.

  And I couldn’t help but find a sliver of hope in the unexpected arrival of this conversation. Unable to stop myself, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his.

  He laughed. “Does that mean you’ll help me with this?”

  “I’d love to. What do you need me to do?”

  “Each sponsor is helping with the organization of the event. I have a team working on theme and decor, but they might as well be color blind, so I fired them yesterday.”

  “Oh,” I said, a touch of nervousness painting my utterance.

  “I want elegant, classy, and seductive. What I don’t want is a standard costume party.” He lowered his voice, shifting his attention to Eve for a moment, but she was too busy building a humongous bubble castle in the tub to care about boring adult conversation. “You are the epitome of all three, and I know you can do this, even on such short notice.”

  His confidence in me heated my belly in a way that wasn’t sexual for once. Sex drove our relationship to the extreme, which made these small moments of coexisting as husband and wife all the more special. “I’ll do my best. I mean, I do know your tastes pretty well. I was your personal assistant once upon a time.”

  He raised a brow as if giving what I’d said consideration. “Good. Then it’s settled. I’ll clear my afternoon for you on Tuesday and Wednesday.” With a smile, he leaned down and scooped up a bubble, then smeared it on Eve’s nose. As she giggled and squealed, he took the opportunity to whisper in my ear. “But enough about work. After you tuck in Eve for the night, I want you downstairs on your knees. I laid something out for you.”

  My full ass was a reminder of what was to come, and the happy vibe of a moment ago dissipated. The fact that he was going to do this in the basement filled me with even more dread. I didn’t know why the idea of anal terrified me so much. It wasn’t like we hadn’t done it before. In fact, he’d introduced anal sex within the first week of blackmailing me into being his.

  But things had been different. Back then everything about him had terrified me, and I hadn’t had a choice.

  And you have a choice now?

  In a way, I did. Or at least, I had. He’d given me a choice before I’d stupidly let go of my right to refuse on our anniversary. Now anal sex had become this huge thing between us—and an even bigger thing in my head—where I waited in dread for him to do it while he taunted me with the fact that he was going to fuck me that way.

  And he always took his time, as if he lived to take me in such a demeaning way, drawing out my discomfort and fear along with the mind-blowing orgasm at the end.

  I finished bathing Eve and tucked her in for the night, then immediately wished I’d come up with an excuse to stall. Hovering outside her bedroom, I did my best to come up with something that needed to be done now.

  There was nothing. I’d finished the nightly chores, and Eve was already snoring softly in that precious way she had about her. The only thing left was my avowed duty to my husband.

  It was time to be his obedient slave.

  I padded down the hall and spied Gage in his office. He sat at his desk, one hand propping up his head while his sharp gaze roamed the screen of his laptop. I should just head down to the basement and prepare. It’s what he expected. What he wanted. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Pushing the door open further, I glanced at the cage in the corner, now hidden behind the facade of a cabinet that locked. The black metal panel stared me in the face whenever I set foot inside his home office, a constant threat. I was one serious misstep away from finding myself back in there.

  “Eve in bed?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know how hard I am for you right now?” He didn’t lift his head, and I wanted to go to him just to run my fingers through his thick, dark strands.

  “No, Master,” I said with a nervous swallow. “How hard?”

  “Hard enough to break you in two. Don’t make me punish you for stalling.”

  Shit, shit, shit.

  He had me wound so tightly I could hardly breathe. I hurried from his office and down the stairs of the basement. Something sat on the end of the bed, just like he’d promised, but it took me a full minute to find the courage to see what it was.

  Thigh highs and a garter belt. No panties. That wasn’t the distressing part. No, the O-Ring gag and nipple clamps had me pulling my hand back, as did the accompanying note.

  Put them on, then wait for me on your knees.

  Was I in trouble? But that didn’t seem right. He was always the one to put the clamps on and shove the gags in. I couldn’t imagine him giving the honor to me if I were about to receive a punishment.

  But I hadn’t misread the note. He wanted me to do it this time. God, Gage would not be happy until I surrendered every last piece of myself. He’d been slowly breaking me down from the moment he caught me stealing from him. Even after we’d married, he’d continued to play me like a well-loved guitar.

  The Friday Night Ritual, which still occurred without fail. The sly introduction of all the things I’d “negotiated” against before we got married.

  No bullwhip? Now used once a month to remind me of how I’d failed him with Ian.

  No nipple clamps? Now used whenever he fucking felt like it.

  As far as gags went, he didn’t wait to catch me in a lie anymore. He used them freely as well. Ever since I’d flirted with disaster all those months ago, he’d basically tossed my hard limits out the window, and he’d been pushing past them ever since.

  Week after week with more severity. Pushing just a little…bit…more.

  M
y guilt hadn’t let me object at first. I’d felt he was justified in doing whatever he wanted, considering what I’d done. But then things had shifted, and we’d found our footing. He’d even returned my cell and the key to my car—albeit with restrictions.

  But the hard limits…he kept bulldozing right over them as if they didn’t exist.

  And I kept surrendering, just as I was doing now, knowing that my ass was about to get fucked. I undressed, then rolled the stockings up my legs, stretched my lips around the gag that was big enough to accommodate his cock, and pinched my nipples tight between his clamps, making sure they hurt like hell because if I didn’t, he’d make me regret it.

  Unclipping my hair, I let the red locks fall to my shoulders as I dropped to my knees. Hands clasped at the small of my back, and breasts thrust out. I’d perfected this pose over the last year and a half, and he ate it up every time.

  He made me wait longer than usual tonight—probably because he wanted me slightly unhinged. By the time his confident gait sounded on the stairs, my nipples were numb, my knees throbbed as much as my pussy did, and drool bathed my chin and chest. I didn’t dare look at him. Suddenly, I was scared. This felt like…

  Like a punishment.

  He sauntered closer, bare feet coming into view, and pushed his eager hands into my hair—hair that had grown by a few inches since I’d whacked it off in anger. Gently, he tilted my chin up.

  “I see the confusion in your eyes. You’re wondering if you’re in trouble.” He knew me so well. As he ran his thumb over my lips, tracing the shape of my stretched mouth, I could do nothing but return his stare. “You’re not in trouble this time, but I am disappointed in you.”

  I tried talking, despite the humongous gag making my jaw ache, but he pressed a finger to my tongue.

  “I wanted you unable to speak for a reason. You’re going to listen carefully, Kayla. There is nothing between Katherine and me, except for Conner.”

  He saw me earlier. Damn.