The Devil's Kiss Series Boxed Set

by Gemma James

  “I understand, Master.” I didn’t, but I understood it was what he wanted to hear, and the submissive in me delighted at his surprised reaction. Sometimes, a girl just had to keep her Master on his sexy toes. “May I finish fixing lunch now, Master?”

  “You may. I’ll get the kids ready.”

  I rose fluidly, aiming for graceful yet sexy, and moved to leave. At the last second, he pulled me onto his lap again, this time to sit.

  “I forgot something,” he said, voice raspy with sudden desire. His attention fell to my mouth, and in response, I parted my lips. Tangling a fist in my hair, he angled my head and claimed my lips with a ravenous mouth. His tongue pushed inside, battling my own, and we both moaned into the kiss.

  Then he let me go as suddenly as he’d grabbed me. “Now you may finish making lunch.”

  6. Elephants

  Conner was downright morose during lunch. But at least Eve had bounced back from our rocky morning.

  “Then Leah said she liked Toby, but Toby and his stupid friends found out. The boys were so mean to her!” She glared at Conner. “I’ll never like boys. Gross.”

  He glared right back, and that warning glint in his blue eyes sent a chill down my spine. He certainly had the best of Gage in him—his fierce loyalty, for one—but every now and again I glimpsed the same dominant curve to that boy’s smile.

  But Conner was far from smiling now. He hadn’t said a word since we’d all sat down for lunch. To say he was unhappy at losing video game privileges was an understatement. Eve either didn’t care, or she was oblivious. She continued her hundred-mile-per-hour chatter.

  “I’m sooo glad Leah isn’t a boy,” she said. “Or we couldn’t be friends.” Eve scrunched her nose. “But she likes boys!” she said, rolling her eyes. “Why do girls like boys, Mom?” She’d stopped calling me “Mommy” at the start of first grade, because apparently, Leah said it was a baby thing to do.

  “That’s a good question.” Why did we put up with men? We not only liked them, but we fucking loved them—even when they left our asses tender from obscene punishments. It was insanity.

  “Is Simone still your best friend?” Eve asked me.

  The girl had a sharp memory. Before I could answer, Gage interjected.

  “Actually, your mom is spending the day with Simone on Monday.”

  I turned a stunned gaze on him. He shot me a grin, the tilt of his mouth hinting at how happy my submission earlier in the bedroom had made him.

  “Your mom works hard around here to take care of us,” he told Eve. “I think it’s time she had a day to herself. What do you think, kids?”

  “Can I go, too? Pleeease?” Eve whined.

  “Sorry, princess. You’ve got school.”

  Conner shoved his plate away. “Can I be done? I wanna go to my room.”

  I thought Gage was going to object, but the dejected sigh he let out instead pricked at my heart. He was trying so hard to connect with Conner.

  “Go ahead.”

  The legs of Conner’s chair scraped the floor, and he left the room without ceremony. The boy spent most of the day in his room until Gage made him join us for a board game.

  And that was how the weekend passed—uneventful and unbearably slow. Normally, it wouldn’t bother me so much, but I had plans for the first time in months, set in stone later that night after Gage programmed Simone’s number into my cell and gave me permission to call her. For whatever reason, he was giving me a reprieve from the monotony of my life for a day.

  My fingers clutched my cell, but I didn’t move to make the call. No, my first instinct was to question him on his unexpected generosity, but upon his eyebrow quirk, I shoved my reservations aside and dialed Simone.

  Permission was permission. And hell, I was excited at the prospect of a girls’ day out.

  Regardless, I couldn’t help but dissect the implications. Either aliens had taken over Gage’s body, or punishing me in the ass had put him in a damn good mood. It was the only explanation I could come up with because Simone had been a sore spot in our recent history ever since she’d come to me about Ian’s cancer. Not that Gage had cared for her to begin with, but this was the first time in…ever that he’d given me the go-ahead—on his prerogative, for that matter—without so much as a sideways glance.

  And that made me the suspicious one. It made the stubborn part of my mind latch right onto Katherine again, agonizing over the what-ifs. By the time Monday arrived, I’d given in to the poisonous doubts plaguing me. I was in full-on paranoid mode.

  Simone was unusually quiet from across the small table for two at our favorite bistro. Tilting my head, I tried catching her gaze. She’d barely said two words since we’d given the waitress our lunch orders. I knew she wasn’t happy with the way I’d gone MIA for the last few months, but I’d naively thought we could pick up where we’d left off. I’d naively thought she’d understand. I should have known better.

  “I’m kind of surprised you called,” she said, breaking the silence.

  “I’m sorry, Simone.”

  I didn’t have a choice.

  She’d disagree. Everyone had a choice, she’d say in that indignant tone of hers. The rational part of my brain—the part that wasn’t led around by Gage’s cock—would agree with her.

  “That’s all you’re going to say after giving me radio silence for so long?”

  The waitress arrived with our orders, which gave me a few moments to figure out how to go forward with this tricky conversation. Spilling my guts to her used to be easy, but now tension simmered between us, and I hated every second of it.

  “You know I have certain…rules to follow. Things got complicated after…”

  After Ian.

  So much to discuss, but I couldn’t even bring myself to say his name. She shifted, tilted her head, and I recognized the signs. Go on, she silently told me.

  “After everything that happened, Gage and I had a lot of issues to work through.” What a fucking understatement. She didn’t know the half of it. She knew more than most people did about my fucked up arrangement with my husband, but I wasn’t about to speak of those torturous months spent in his cage, bound and gagged for my sins. If I opened that can of disturbingly wrong, I’d have to justify his actions, and somehow, they only sounded justifiable in my poisoned mind. There was just no way of explaining that to her. “I didn’t mean to shut you out, Simone.”

  She took in a breath, then blew it out, ruffling her blond hair. “I get it. You obviously have baggage you don’t want to get into. I’m just glad you’re finally back.” Her brows furrowed over deep brown eyes. “You are back, right? No more disappearing on me for months at a time?”

  A weak smile took hold of my lips. “I think things are starting to settle down again.”

  “So you worked shit out?”

  I heard so much more in that question—all the ones she didn’t ask. The ones she would probably never ask because she respected my boundaries too much to pry. Hell, she respected my boundaries better than my husband did.

  “We’re getting there,” I hedged.

  “I’ve got a nosy ear, you know.” She fit her palm behind her right ear, and I had to laugh. But then the image of Gage and Katherine whirled through my head and blew that small amount of joy to the next county over.

  “I’m scared he’s fucking her.” The words tore from my mouth before I could stop them. And damn, they weren’t even true…entirely. I believed him when he said he wouldn’t touch her…didn’t I?

  “Who?” Simone bit into her BLT sandwich.

  “Katherine.”

  She halted her chewing long enough to raise a brow, then a few moments later, she wiped her mouth with a napkin. “She’s still an issue?”

  Hell, Katherine had been an issue since the day Gage had first hired me on as his personal assistant. She was the weed that refused to go away. Her presence just spread and spread until the bitch sprang up in the cracks of our marriage.

  “I don’t kn
ow. He swears nothing is going on with her.”

  “You think he’s lying?”

  “I…” I replayed his words in my mind, and deep down I knew he’d meant them. “No. Not really. But she just has a way of getting to me. She touches him every chance she gets, shows up at his hotel room—”

  “She what?”

  I nodded, feeling even more miserable. “He said he slammed the door in her face.” I wondered what Simone’s reaction would be if I told her the rest—how he’d jacked off while imagining his cock in my throat. I parted my lips and drew in a thready breath.

  “It really boils down to one thing. Do you trust him?”

  She made it sound so easy, but as I examined my feelings and tore apart his words, dissected his actions, I realized that I did. Mostly. There were plenty of things not to trust him about—anytime he came near me with his cock at the ready and a belt or whip in his fist, for instance—but on a fundamental level, I did trust him.

  If I didn’t, why would I keep putting myself through this? Why keep bending and bending and bending?

  “I do trust him,” I said, swiping my bangs to the side. “I love him. More than I could ever say. More than even makes sense.”

  “Then I’d put the baby mama out of your head. He married you, and though I won’t begin to understand or approve of your…weird relationship, he has always come across as pretty fucking whipped.”

  I almost spluttered my tea all over the table at her words. Gage, whipped? But the more I thought about it, the more it clicked, because when you got down to the nitty-gritty, we had each other wrapped. “I guess you’re right. I just wish I could get that woman out of my head. The way she touches him, and the way she glares at me…God, Simone, she makes me see red and green at the same time.”

  “You need a fucking hobby.” Simone’s mouth twisted into a scowl, but her gaze softened as she said it to take out some of the sting.

  “A hobby?” I asked, absently picking at my half-eaten quiche. Apparently, the subject of Katherine made me lose my appetite. Or maybe it was the smell of overcooked cheese. I pushed the plate away, scrunching my nose. “Why do you say that?”

  Simone made a scoffing sound, and I glanced up to find her reclined in her seat, arms crossed. “To hear you talk, it sounds like your whole life revolves around Gage and what he may or may not be doing with Katherine.”

  A hobby might not be a bad idea. Maybe I could start collecting trinkets, like dolphins or dragons.

  Or elephants.

  Definitely elephants. Lord knew I had plenty of those in my life. Gigantic ones that ate up too much space and sucked up all the air. One stood between Gage and me in the form of Katherine. But the biggest one sat smack in the middle of Simone and me.

  This elephant’s name was Ian, and he’d grown too secure in his comfy spot since that damn note had magically appeared on my door. But it was easier, safer, to focus on my marriage and the interloper named Katherine. The subject of Ian was too dangerous. Too painful.

  Simone must have agreed because she didn’t bring him up once. Not to tell me he was okay—the note had already done that—and certainly not to tell me whether or not she’d spoken to him or seen him.

  And maybe it was better this way.

  “If you’re really worried about Katherine,” Simone said, “then talk to Gage. Just be honest with him. Tell him how you’re feeling.”

  She made it sound simple. If only it were that easy.

  7. Oral Petition

  The following day I met Gage in his office at Channing Enterprises to work on the charity ball project, but it wasn’t until Wednesday when I finally found my lady balls to broach the subject of Katherine. Even then, it took me a good hour of perusing color schemes while situated firmly on his lap, distracted beyond belief by his depraved hands.

  “So this is your final decision?” Gage asked, gesturing by way of a nod toward the various colors, fabric textures, and decorations splashed across the screen of his laptop. His fingers tapped a staccato beat on top of his desk.

  “You said elegant and sexy.”

  He pressed a kiss to my neck, and I felt the curve of his smile. “Mmm, you most certainly are.”

  “Did you really need my help with this, or were you just looking for an excuse to have me on your lap for a few days?”

  “I never need an excuse to have you on my lap, Kayla. For any reason.”

  Damn, he was turning me on.

  “Truth is,” he said, “I miss you here at the office. I wouldn’t mind you coming back as my assistant if that’s something you’d like to do.”

  I angled my head and shot a wide-eyed gaze at him. “Are you serious?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’d love to.” More than love to. I ached to fill the void that leaving the workforce had caused.

  “Then consider it a done deal.” He pressed his mouth to mine before focusing on our project again. “Besides, where would I be without you? You pulled this together in two days flat, fixing the blunders of the idiots I hired to do this job in the first place.”

  Two days seemed too long for the amount of work I’d done, but at least I’d finally whittled the color scheme down to burgundy, mahogany, and the accent color of gold. “I’m thinking creme china trimmed in gold, red masks with gold feathers for centerpieces—like those,” I said, pausing to point at a picture, “and sable linens for the tables.”

  The visual made me think of sex and sin—just like that restaurant had the night he’d taken me there before our anniversary. Riding his cock in that private dining booth had been terrifying and exhilarating. I wasn’t comfortable with public displays of indecency, but apparently, Gage had an exhibitionist streak in his blood. God, the surprises kept coming when it came to my husband.

  Thing was, I was tired of being the last to know about shit. Taking comfort in his assertion over the weekend that I need only to ask, I finally found the words and did just that. “Why was Katherine here last week?”

  He stilled the casual tapping of his fingers. “Was that so hard?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What?”

  “Asking about Katherine. Was it so difficult to come out and say what’s on your mind?” His fingers resumed their tapping. “You’ve taken to eavesdropping lately, and I don’t like it. You don’t have to be afraid to come to me, baby. I’d rather know what’s on your mind than assume and guess.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Why does she keep coming here?” My breath hitched. Lord knew I wanted an explanation, but now that one was forthcoming, I didn’t know if I were ready.

  “She’s the mother of my child. I’m afraid we’re not getting rid of her anytime soon.”

  “She’s only using Conner as an excuse to see you, and you know it.”

  “I won’t deny it.”

  His words tunneled deep, impacting the center of my being. “But you promised nothing is going—”

  “Because nothing is going on.” He took my right nipple between two punishing fingers. “Don’t you trust me?”

  “I…I want to,” I whispered, barely able to form the words beyond my pounding heartbeat and the piercing ache in my nipple.

  “Well that’s great to hear, Kayla,” he said, tone brimming with sarcasm, “because I’ve been trying so fucking hard to trust you again. I need you to do the same. Katherine is not a threat to you. I promise you that.”

  “But she wants you.” The admission soured my tongue.

  “Yes, she does, and being the bastard that I am, I can’t help but throw my hot-as-fuck wife in her face every chance I get. Does that explanation make you happy?”

  Oh, yeah. More than it should. But it did nothing to alleviate the doubt in my heart. Gage might not be fucking her now, but what if he changed his mind someday? What if, years later, he grew bored with me?

  “You said I was playing with fire with—”

  “Don’t you
dare say his name.” He practically growled the words, his voice beyond harsh, and his grip on me even harsher. “I will beat your ass red if you say his name.”

  “How is that fair? Katherine is like a fucking leech that won’t let go, and you keep encouraging her. You’re playing with fire, just like I was.”

  “I’m not interested in sleeping with Katherine, and I’m sure as fuck not in love with her. That’s the difference.”

  I felt my face heat with humiliation and regret. How could I respond to that? I couldn’t.

  “I look at that cage every night,” he said, “and I yearn to lock you in there forever. Then I’d know you’re mine.”

  “But I am yours. Can’t you see that?”

  “Prove it to me.”

  “How?” I asked, voice rising in disbelief. What more could I possibly do to prove it to him?

  “The night of the ball. It just happens to be a Friday, and I have special plans for you afterward.”

  “But…” I trailed off, confused. “I take your punishment every Friday without complaint. What more do you want from me?”

  “Everything, Kayla. I want everything.” He gestured to the color schemes on the screen, his index finger hovering over a photo of a jeweled mask in burgundy. “I told you about the charity ball, but I didn’t tell you about our plans afterward.” Grabbing my hair, he tilted my head back and placed his warm lips on my neck. “After the masqueraders leave and it’s just a handful of Portland’s most wealthiest deviants, I want you to submit everything to me. No ands, ifs, buts, or whys. I say spread your legs, and you ask, ‘How wide, Master?’”

  A lump formed in my throat—a mass of sickening fear. “You want to fuck me in front of other people?”

  “I want you to submit in front of other people.”

  “I don’t know if I—”

  “I don’t care about your feelings on this. You will do as I say.” He pushed me from his lap. “Because you always do what I say.” His gaze lowered to his hard-on. “Get on your knees and suck me off.”

  Yielding to his command, I knelt between his legs. His desk hid most of my body, but he pushed back a few inches to give me more room. Shoving the masquerade ball and what would come after from my mind, I had him unbuckled, unzipped, and his cock in my mouth in about five seconds flat.