Shiver

by Suzanne Wright

  I twisted my mouth, and his eyes dropped to it. “I suppose it’s hard to ease someone into something when they’ve been exposed to so much all at once and feel completely out of their element,” I mused.

  “Exactly.” He paused when the waiter reappeared and set down our drinks. “That’s why I have the lounge separate from the dome,” Blake continued before taking a swig from his glass. “It’s just like being in any bar, except the patrons might not act quite so normally. It gives people an idea of what they can expect, and allows them to sit back and observe. They can then ease themselves into this by walking through that door over there and head to the dome. Or they can take the elevator to one of the other floors, satisfied that they’ve addressed their curiosity.”

  I took a sip of my wine. “What made you come up with the idea of having themed rooms?”

  “Again, it’s about being able to taste your fantasies in a safe place.”

  “And will we be tasting one of your fantasies tonight?”

  His mouth curved into a wicked smile that made my stomach clench. “Yes.”

  Excitement bubbled through me. “Which one?”

  “I’d rather keep it as a surprise. It’s nothing dark. It’s all about fun. Nothing you need to be nervous about.”

  “So we’re not in a standard room this time?”

  “No.” The finger drawing patterns on my shoulder trailed up my neck and around to my nape, where he began tracing circles.

  “You do that a lot.”

  “What?”

  “Draw little patterns on my skin.”

  “I love your skin. And your hair.” His tongue flicked my earlobe. “And your pussy. So warm and snug.”

  Face flushing, I took a long drink of wine. The guy was lethal. I glanced at Sarah, wanting to check on her, and caught a glimpse of someone else. I ground my teeth. “So that’s how you know Libby.” She was kneeling beside the chair on which a dark-skinned male was sprawled, her eyes on the floor. I doubted that she’d noticed me or Sarah yet.

  Blake flicked her a disinterested glance. “She’s been a sub here for a while. I haven’t touched her, in case you’re wondering.”

  I was wondering. “Why did you ask her specifically about me?”

  “I didn’t. I was talking to a guy who was her Dom for the night, asking him questions about the people at CCC and the bar. As soon as I mentioned you, Libby piped up.”

  “I’ll bet she did,” I mumbled.

  “She described you as someone who was as messed up as your stepfather.”

  “I guess neither you or me lucked out when it came to our stepparents.”

  He stilled. “Excuse me?”

  “How old were you when your stepmother came onto you for the first time?”

  He was silent for so long, I was sure he wouldn’t answer. “Nineteen.” His tone was flat, emotionless.

  Twisted bitch. “And she’s never quite given up, has she? Did you tell your dad?”

  “He wouldn’t have believed it. Right up until the day he died, he thought the sun rose and set with her.”

  “What about your mom? Did you tell her about it?”

  His jaw hardened. “She died when I was fourteen.”

  Inwardly, I winced. “Sorry to hear that.”

  He chugged back some of his wine. “Does your mother really love Bale?”

  “She loves what she sees when she looks at him.”

  “Not the same thing.”

  “No,” I agreed. We both looked up as Sarah and Bastien approached, smiling.

  “You must be Kensey,” said Bastien. “I was shocked to see my boy here wearing red. Didn’t think he’d ever let anyone lay a claim of any kind on him. This is a good thing to see. And an indication that he could be pussy whipped—I’m finding humor in that.”

  Blake sighed. “Fuck off, Bastien.” There was no heat in the words, which was no doubt why Bastien laughed.

  “We’re going through to the dome,” Sarah declared, eyes bright.

  “So are we.” Blake drained his glass, stood upright, and then offered me his hand. “Come.”

  “I certainly hope I do,” I quipped, to which he chuckled. Setting down my glass, I slipped my hand in his and stood upright.

  He gave me a quick kiss. “Oh, you’ll come,” he assured me. “And you’ll come loud.”

  “We’ll see.” I walked slightly behind him as he led me toward the door on the other side of the lounge. And, since my luck was shit, Libby and her partner chose that moment to stand.

  The guy inclined his head at us. “Good to see you, Blake.”

  Libby’s head snapped up, a ghost of a smile on her face. But that smile faded when she noticed me. Sheer and utter shock flashed in her eyes and made her mouth droop. Something dark flickered across her face, and the shock in her eyes was quickly replaced by an acidic anger. Stupidly, she crossed to Blake.

  “You do know that’s Kensey Lyons, don’t you?” she asked. “I told you all about her, I told you—”

  “Lies,” Blake finished. “And more lies.”

  Libby’s mouth tightened. “Obviously she’d tell you it was all untrue. Just ask the Buchanan family, they’ll tell you—”

  “Lies,” I said. “And more lies. But we all know why that is. You know, you really ought to be careful you don’t choke on all the bullshit you spew, Libby.”

  Cheeks flushing scarlet, Libby opened her mouth, but she snapped it shut when Blake leaned toward her.

  “Not another word,” he said softly, yet it rang with so much menace that the girl blanched.

  Her partner stepped forward and rested a restraining hand on her shoulder. “Forgive her appalling behavior, Blake. She will be punished for disrespecting what belongs to you.”

  I wondered if that punishment involved a whip. I truly hoped so, even though it was highly likely that Libby would get off on it in her own way.

  “See that she is, Warren,” said Bastien in a tone that made Sarah shiver a little in delight. I had to smile at that.

  Blake gave Warren a faint nod and then squeezed my hand. “Let’s go.”

  We started walking again, and Sarah fell back to speak to me. “You didn’t tell me she came here.”

  “I didn’t know until just now,” I told her.

  At the odd look Sarah cast him, Bastien raised his hands and said, “I never touched her.” Reaching the door, he opened it wide and swept out a hand.

  Sarah peppered him with questions about the private rooms as we wandered down the hallway and, finally, through the dome’s ornate doors. Just like last time, the space was full. Music was blasting, and people were dancing their asses off.

  As Sarah and Bastien swanned off to the bar, Blake asked, “Want another drink?” I shook my head, and his lips quirked. “Good. Neither do I.” He cupped my ass and drew me close, fitting me to him. His cock was hard and full, and the thought of having it in me again made my pussy clench.

  I hooked my arms loosely around his neck as his mouth ate at mine. He danced good, totally in sync with the beat. His movements were smooth, fluid, dirty.

  Blake splayed his hand on my throat and tipped back my head. My eyes fluttered shut as he licked and kissed and sucked at my neck, leaving little marks. I should probably protest at the marking thing, but it felt so damn good that I was melting. A slow-burn began in my core, leaving me hot and aching.

  “You smell so fucking good, Kensey.” He hooked one of my legs over his hip and ground his cock against me. Pleasure sparked from my clit to my pussy, and my eyes snapped open.

  I tried lifting my head, wanting his mouth, but he kept on ravishing my sensitive neck. I felt each lick and bite all the way to my pussy. Every grind of his cock rubbed my clit just right and, shit, I needed him. Right there, right then. “Blake, you—”

  He spun me, pressing my back against his front. “Are you wet enough for me yet, Kensey?” he asked, his breath warm on my neck. One of his hands splayed on my stomach while he drew the fingers of his free h
and up my thighs, under my dress, and then cupped me hard. “Mine.” He deftly slipped one finger into my thong and then—oh fuck. My pussy tightened around his finger, and he groaned. “Nice and wet. But I want you dripping.”

  And then he was pumping his finger in and out of me, growling all sorts of things into my ear—that I felt so good, that my pussy was his, that he’d snap the neck of anyone who tried to touch it. I wound tighter and tighter, until finally I was ready to—

  He withdrew his finger. “Not here. Only I get to see you come.”

  On shaky legs, I followed him out of the dome, down a long hallway, and to one of many gray doors. He unlocked it and ushered me inside. I blinked in surprise. This room was completely different from the others we’d used. For one thing, there was no furniture. Not even a bed. Just white walls, a glossy marble floor, and an elevator. For a short moment, I thought we were going to another floor. Then it hit me.

  “I remember the night I first brought you to the basement,” said Blake, pushing the button for the elevator. There was a ding just before the doors opened. “You were wearing a lacy black dress and strappy high heels. As the elevator was going down, all I could think of doing was shoving up the dress and fucking you right there. And so the fantasy was born.”

  His mouth crushed mine as he backed me into the elevator. The breath gusted out of me as my back hit the wall, but he didn’t stop kissing me. He feasted. Dominated. Overwhelmed. All the while, we worked in tandem to whip off his tie and shirt. I distantly registered that the doors had closed, and I heard the whir of the machinery as if the elevator genuinely was moving.

  His hands dipped into my bra and scooped out my breasts. He gave them a possessive squeeze just as he swooped down and curled his tongue around my nipple. He suckled hard, letting me feel the edge of his teeth.

  “Blake.” It was a demand for more.

  Lifting his head, he swiped his tongue over my lower lip. “I’ve been thinking about fucking this mouth since the first time I saw it.” His tongue lapped at my scar, and he growled. “It’s my mouth now, so I can do what I want with it. Knees.”

  It took a moment for the one-word order to penetrate. I instinctively bristled at the authority there, but I felt so hot and empty inside that I was desperate to come. That desperation drowned out the defiance, and I dropped to my knees.

  His eyes went languid with masculine satisfaction. “Good. Clasp your hands behind your back. That’s it. Love it when my baby’s such a good girl.” He unzipped his fly and fisted his cock. “Open.”

  The second I opened my mouth, he grabbed a handful of my hair and punched his hips forward. Fuck, he was thick. I doubted I’d be able to swallow more than half his length, but I’d give it my best shot.

  “Suck.” Holding my head still, he pumped his hips as I sucked for all I was worth, rubbing my tongue along the underside of his cock. Groaning through gritted teeth, he traced my mouth with his fingers. “Fuck, baby, that’s good.” His grip on my hair tightened as I swallowed around him. “Your mouth’s going to be all swollen from sucking my dick. I like that.”

  He kept thrusting, whispering encouragements, and I kept sucking as hard as I could. “Enough.” He pulled out of my mouth and stepped back. “Get up, baby.” Wicked fast, he tore open a condom wrapper and gloved himself.

  Standing, I urged, “Hurry.”

  Raw sexual aggression glittered in his eyes as he shoved up my dress and snapped off my thong. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you,” he gritted out, grabbing my ass and hoisting me up. “Not one single fucking thing.” He ruthlessly rammed his cock into me, and my pussy clutched him greedily. “Fuck, Kensey.”

  He powered into me, fingertips digging into my skin. I groaned and whimpered against his mouth, my limbs locked around him, my nails scratching his back. I felt so full I thought I’d burst, but the bite of pain only made the pleasure better.

  Mouth set into a merciless slash, he kept plunging deep and hard at a feverish pace. His glacier blue eyes never left mine. Not once. And as he angled his hips in a way that made his cock hit my G-spot with every merciless thrust, I felt my release barrel toward me.

  “I’m going to come,” I rasped, clinging to him even tighter.

  “Yes, you are,” he growled, jaw hard. “And you’re going to do it now.” He upped his pace, slamming harder, and I tumbled right over the edge with a choked, tortured moan. He drove deep, spine stiffening, and exploded inside me with a harsh whisper of my name. Then I literally slumped against him.

  We stood there, panting and shuddering, for what could have been hours.

  “Hold on.” He backed up a few steps and jabbed a button on the panel. I heard a distinct whir behind me, and glanced over my shoulder to see the wall slide open. Then we were inside a smaller version of the hotel suites we’d used the other times we’d come.

  Gently laying me on the bed, Blake kissed me softly as he slipped his cock out of me. “I need to get rid of this condom. Wait here.” He straightened, and that was when I saw the fading yet ugly bruise on his abs. There was another near his solar plexus—this one so faint, I almost didn’t notice it.

  Returning from the bathroom, he gave my calf a little squeeze. “Roll onto your stomach so I can unzip you.” I did so. Within moments, he’d peeled away my dress and slipped off my heels. Joining me on the bed, he kissed my shoulder. “You all right?”

  “Hmm. I could ask you the same thing. Your PT went hard on you again, huh?”

  “He did.” Blake traced my mouth with his finger, lips quirking in pure male satisfaction, so I was guessing it was swollen from sucking him off. His fingers then brushed over the tattoo on the back of my shoulder. “I thought that was just a feather the first time I saw it. It’s a writer’s quill. You like to write?”

  “I dabble.” I tried to push myself up from the bed, but he grabbed my nape. “I need to use the bathroom,” I said.

  He let his hand slide away. “Hurry back. I’m not done with you.”

  I wasn’t done with him either. From the bathroom, I heard his ringtone. When I reentered the bedroom, it was to see him standing at the foot of the bed, muscles rigid.

  “Don’t need this shit tonight,” he said into the phone. “That’s nothing new, Rossi. You can tell him I’m not interested in excuses. He was warned. This is his third strike—he’s out. Simple … Right. See you later.”

  Once again lying on my stomach on the bed, I rested my chin on my linked fingers. “Someone just had their membership revoked?”

  He shrugged as he slid into the bed and rested on his side. “It happens sometimes.”

  That didn’t really answer my question, but I let it go. “I didn’t realize Rossi worked here.”

  Blake combed his fingers through my hair. “Rossi makes himself useful in a lot of ways.”

  Oh, he sure did like evasive responses. What he probably didn’t realize was that it only made me more curious about him, but I put that curiosity aside for now. Mostly because it didn’t seem fair to grill him further when I’d been so evasive about the writing quill tattoo. Instead, I said, “Sarah doesn’t have a membership card, but the doormen didn’t stop her from coming in. Why?”

  “There are different colored cards,” said Blake. “Yours is red, which means you can take one non-member with you and that you have access to most floors.”

  “Ah, I see. What floors can’t I use?”

  “Only B3.”

  “Where you keep your stock.”

  He kissed my shoulder. “Yes. Has Cade tried staying at your apartment again?”

  I blinked at the swift change of subject. “You have an obsession with Cade.”

  He squeezed my hip. “Answer the question, baby.”

  I was tempted to be evasive about it, but it didn’t seem worth it. “No, he hasn’t.”

  “And what will you do if he does?”

  I sighed. “I already agreed that I’d either drive him home or call him a cab.”

  He kis
sed me. “That’s my good girl.”

  Abruptly, I was rolled onto my back. I frowned. “What are you doing?”

  He hovered over me and then slid down my body. “Rewarding you.”

  The first swipe of his tongue between my slick folds made my eyes fall closed. Damn, the guy was good.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It seemed that Blake truly had heard me loud and clear about the importance of real advanced notice, because he contacted me on the following Thursday morning to arrange a meeting for the next evening. Again, he’d booked a themed room. This one, to my utter surprise, was set up like a small gym. As he fucked me hard on the weight bench, he’d told me—no, complained to me—that I kept popping into his mind whenever he was doing a workout.

  We also met up on the Saturday evening, and I laughed my tits off when he ushered me into a room that was set up like a private hospital room. But I soon stopped laughing when he started playing doctor and demonstrated just how well he knew my body.

  Although it had been yet another fun weekend, I hadn’t been able to fully relax. Ricky Tate still hadn’t resurfaced, and that made me nervous rather than relieved. Part of me always seemed to be holding my metaphorical breath, waiting for him to reappear. By the time Friday once again came around, he still hadn’t reappeared.

  I met with Blake in the basement on Friday, but he had “business to sort out” on Saturday evening. Bastien was also busy that night, so Sarah had her evening free. She and I still went to the Vault and spent most of our night on the main floor, though we did go up to the burlesque floor for a little while. It just didn’t seem worth going to another club when none beat the Vault.