by Katie May
I waved his words away dismissively. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be
fine.”
All of my men hesitated in the doorway before one by one, they left me
alone. There was no satisfaction when the door closed that final time. If
anything, loneliness speared my chest. I wasn’t truly mad at the guys, not
really. I was more mad at the situation.
Why did we have to live in such a fucked up world? And, more
importantly, how could we fix it?
A single king-sized bed sat in the center of the room, flanked by two
nightstands, and I moved to perch at the end. I kicked my shoes off before
shimmying out of my pants. Then, with a wicked smirk, I bent down,
revealing my panty-clad ass.
Ryland inhaled sharply, and my smile grew.
Pretending I didn’t notice him lurking in the corner, I slid my shirt over
my head and unhooked my bra. I allowed the bra straps to slide down my
arms, but I didn’t remove the garment all the way.
“So, are you a voyeur only with me or with all the ladies?” I teased,
glancing over my shoulder at the silhouette. “I don’t know if that’s romantic
or creepy.”
“Romantic,” he purred, stalking closer. “Definitely romantic. And you
should know by now, my precious Z, that everything revolves around you.”
“Why are you still here, Ryland?” I asked, spinning to face him
completely. I used one hand to hold up my bra while I placed the other on my
hip, cocking it to the side.
“Because I know you,” he said smoothly. “You’re upset and embarrassed,
but you don’t want to be alone with your own thoughts.”
I snorted. “You act like you know me, but how could you? I don’t even
know myself.”
“Because I do,” he insisted, gliding closer. His warm breath wafted across
my cheek. “I’m a Shadow, Z. I live my life hiding in the darkness and
watching. Always watching.” His hand cupped my cheek, stroking the skin
tenderly. “But if you want me to leave, I will. I’ll do anything you ask, Z,
except put your life at risk.”
I considered the man before me. With the shadows misting around him, I
couldn’t see his face. It was ironic, in a way, that he demanded complete and
absolute truth from me, yet he still hid. The shadows were his armor, and no
amount of weapons could penetrate it.
“Fine, you can stay. On one condition.” I leaned even closer. “You let me
see you.”
If he was going to see me, all of me, the good and the bad, then it was
only fair.
Ryland hesitated before he took a deep breath, dropping the shadows that
always seemed to accompany him.
His white scars stood out on his onyx skin, curving his lips downwards
and slicing through one of his eyes. Still, he was beautiful. Ruggedly
handsome and sexy, with broad shoulders leading down to a tapered waist.
“Why do you hate it?” I whispered, cupping his scarred cheek. He
flinched at the contact, eyelids closing, before he reopened them.
“Because I’m hideous.” He covered my hand with his own.
“It’s you.” There were no other words to describe it.
His body shuddered at my words, and he took a step closer until his
forehead could rest against my own.
“I’m sorry about what happened earlier,” he said, his multi-colored eyes
searching mine. The last wisps of my rage dissipated as I sagged against him.
“I know,” I whispered, kissing his wrist.
A smirk pulled up his lips. “The only time I’ll ever tie you up is in the
bedroom.”
Yup. I was pretty sure my panties just soaked through.
“Huh?”
Smart, Z. Smart.
“Tell me, Z, have you ever been tied up before?” he questioned as my
heart volleyed around in my chest.
“Is that something you...like?” I asked curiously. With Devlin, I was
always in charge. He liked it when I dominated him, and I liked it when he
submitted. The sex with S had been strictly vanilla. What would it be like
with Ryland? To give him complete and utter control of my mind and body?
Ironically enough, I had been pissed only minutes before because of a damn
collar and leash. Now, I was intrigued. I had been ordered around once before
by Killian, but I wasn’t sure if the Incubus even realized what he was doing.
But Ryland?
He definitely knew what he was doing.
The backs of my knees hit the bed as Ryland took a step closer. “Is it
something you want to try?”
Fucking hell. I was a puddle of goo for this man. Heat sizzled through my
veins, settling directly in my core.
“What else do you like to do?” I breathed, and his smile only grew, white
teeth blinding against his dark skin.
“Get on your knees on the bed,” he instructed, “and I’ll show you.”
Heart hammering, I did as he asked, my bra sliding the rest of the way
down my arms in the process. My pussy was already wet for him, greedy for
him.
Instead of giving me what I desired—namely, his cock—he paced behind
me. I could feel his eyes caressing my skin, looking but not touching.
I moaned something inarticulate, and his hand slapped down on my ass.
The brief stab of pain made me jump, and I released a gasp of pleasure. Who
would’ve thought I’d like something like that?
“Don’t move,” he snapped. “Don’t make a noise until you have
permission. Is that understood?”
When I remained silent, unsure of what he wanted, he spanked my ass
again. “I asked you a question.”
“Yes,” I gasped out. My ass cheek was still tingling, but his methodical
strokes helped ease the ache.
“Yes...?”
“Yes, sir?” It came out more as a question.
When he kissed my spine, I knew I had gotten it right. I had never been a
sub before, so this was new territory. And…
And I liked it.
“Since this is your first time doing something like this, I’ll ease you into
it, understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied with growing confidence.
“Good, girl.” He bit down on my ass, his mouth wetting the thin material
of my panties. “Now, we need a safe word.”
“Safe word?” I asked, glancing at him over my shoulder. He had removed
his shirt, revealing his dark skin covered in crisscrossing scars.
Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—he didn’t punish me for speaking
and moving out of turn. Instead, his hands kneaded my fleshy globes,
eliciting wave after wave of pleasure.
“You say the word, and I’ll stop no matter what. No matter what we’re
doing or how we’re doing it. Understand? Tell me you understand, Little
Dove.”
“Pancake,” I blurted, cheeks flaming when I realized what I said. Still, I
wasn’t going to back down now. “My safe word will be pancake.” He
chuckled darkly, but he didn’t comment, thank fuck. I probably would’ve
died of embarrassment.
Obviously, Ryland had done this before. Probably dozens of times. I
didn’t know how to be submissive, but for him, I was willing to try. I knew
that if I didn’t like i
t, he wouldn’t be upset. However, I wanted to do this for
him. For us.
“Pancake it is,” he whispered, kissing up my ass and to my spine. He
continued planting tantalizingly light kisses until he reached my neck.
Brushing away my hair, he pressed his lips to my neck and then my ear. “But
I’m not gonna fuck you today.”
“What?” I whimpered pathetically, arching my hips. He slapped first one
ass cheek and then the other, tsking in disapproval.
“You accept what I give you.” He wrapped my hair around his fist—the
way Bash had held my leash—and lifted my head until my entire back was
pressed to his chest. With his other hand, he squeezed my breasts, twisting
and plucking at my sensitive nipples. I thought I was going to die if he didn’t
touch me between my legs.
Before I could beg, he released me and stepped away from the bed. My
body immediately cried out, but I kept my mouth shut. I could be quiet if
orgasms were the reward. As silent as a mime.
A moment later, Ryland returned to the bed with the leash.
“Are you okay with this, Little Dove?” he asked, dangling it in front of
my face. I murmured an inarticulate affirmative. “I need words.”
“Yes... yes, sir,” I managed to squeak. He spun me around so I was now
on my back, his knees on either side of my waist. He glanced at my bare
breasts before focusing on my hands. With practiced efficiency, he gripped
my wrists and held them above my head. Quickly, he tied my hands together
with the leash and then tied them both to the headboard. The position caused
my back to arch, my tits brushing against his naked chest.
“Is it too tight?” he asked, trailing his fingers back down my arms and to
my neck.
“No, sir,” I replied. Fuck, I needed him. I needed...something. Was that
how I was going to die? Spontaneous combustion because my damn mate
didn’t pleasure me in time? Wouldn’t that be a kick to the nuts—survived
The Damning but died because I didn’t get an orgasm? I would be so pissed.
The least the world could do was lube me before it fucked me in the ass.
He focused on each of my breasts, giving them equal attention, before
licking down my stomach. His scarred skin was rough against my own, but it
only amplified the pleasure.
With a mischievous smile befitting my playful mate, he caught the
hemline of my panties with his teeth and slowly began to pull them down.
I was a writhing mess beneath him, desperate for his lips, his cock, his
fingers—anything—to enter my slick channel. I needed him with an intensity
that frightened me.
“Do you want me, Little Dove?”
“Yes!” He swatted at my tits, watching them sway. Fuck, that was sexy.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
With another grin, he placed his dark, calloused hands on either of my
thighs, prying them apart. “I’m going to enjoy eating you out,” he murmured,
planting kisses on my skin. “You’re going to scream my name before I even
enter you.”
“Fuck, yes,” I groaned. Immediately, he dropped his face between my
legs and devoured me like a starving man. He alternated between teasing
flicks of his tongue and the grazing of his teeth against my sensitive nub. I
was nearly mindless with pleasure, the leash around my wrists only adding to
the stimulation. “Ryland!” I cried.
“Come for me,” he whispered against my mound, his teeth tugging on my
clit.
And I exploded. Wave after wave of pleasure cascaded through me as I
let out a wordless cry. The orgasm positively destroyed me, wrecked me, in
the best possible way.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screamed, arching my back as I crested over
the edge.
The door to the hotel room was abruptly pushed open, and Bash, Lupe,
and Devlin rushed inside. Lupe was carrying an axe, and Devlin had magic
crackling in his palms.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?” Bash demanded, but he, along with
the others, paused when he caught sight of me. The hunger and wanton need
in his eyes were impossible to miss. “Oh, fuck.”
ELEVEN
BASH
D id I feel like an asshole dragging my mate through the hotel
lobby on a leash? Hell yes.
Did I get turned on when she punched me in the face? Hell
to the fucking yes.
And did my cock turn into a motherfucking rock when I entered the room
to see her naked and tied up? No comment.
My eyes greedily moved over her exposed flesh. Perfect tits. Nipples
beaded nubs. A perfect pink pussy slick with arousal. Golden hair disheveled
giving her a “just fucked” appearance.
Yup, I would be sporting a boner for days now, thank you very much. My
hand and I would become very close acquaintances. Mr. Hand, meet the
python. Python, meet Mr. Hand. Heaven only knew I wouldn’t get any loving
from Z.
The girl hated me, not that I blamed her. I was—admittedly—a jerk to
her. I didn’t believe in mating bonds and fate and all that shit. Who was the
universe to decide who my perfect girl was? But then… Z arrived in my life
with a nasty right hook and a body that put others to shame, and I was
instantly smitten.
Not that I would tell her.
Fuck, I really was an asshole, wasn’t I?
Unwilling to torture myself a moment longer with things I could never
have, I spun on my heel and exited the room.
Fuck, fuckity fuck. Even the hallway reeked of sweat and sex. The
enticing aroma did funny things to my cock. Okay, maybe not so funny. You
try walking with an elephant trunk protruding from your nether region.
Grimacing, I made my way into the second room and then ran to the
bathroom. I needed a cold shower, stat.
I gripped the edge of the sink, lungs burning and heart racing. What did
this girl do to me? She unraveled me, that was what she did. She took what
little control I had and smashed it into thousands of pieces.
I’d had my fair share of girls before, but none like Z. None that made me
want to go back a second, third, fourth time. None that made me want to
write fucking sonnets and learn to play the guitar.
We were two peas in a pod, her and I, but this pod was laden with
explosives.
I made quick work of removing my clothes and stepping beneath the
freezing spray of water. It pelted my skin, each drop the equivalent of a
hundred tiny knives.
All I could picture was Z. She had been glorious post-orgasm, her pouty
lips opened in a scream and her face flushed. Those eyes—those damn eyes
—had emanated nothing but love and lust, enough to drive any warm-
blooded man insane.
I wanted her. No, I didn’t just want her. I needed her. She was as essential
to my well-being as breathing or eating. She was the air I inhaled, the blood
pumping through my heart.
And...
I was officially a sappy romantic. Fuck. Me.
I wrapped my hand around the base of my cock, tugging once. Instead of
my hand, I visualized her bright red lips wrapped around it, her eyes staring
<
br /> up at me through her fringe of ebony lashes.
Before I had even met her, I had dreams about her and me. Laughing,
cuddling, talking. From the first moment I saw her, I knew she would change
my life irrevocably. I just hadn’t realized how much.
I began to stroke myself faster and faster, my other hand fondling my
balls. I was seconds from exploding, seconds from squirting my cum on the
shower walls. Just one more...
“Bash!” Killian raced into the bathroom just as I reached that cliff and
tumbled over the edge.
What. The. Fuck?
The Incubus’s eyes widened in shock and horror just before he turned on
his heel, facing the wall opposite the shower.
“What the hell are you doing, Kill?” I griped. If there was one thing that
could kill a boner, it was having your brother walk into the bathroom mid-
masturbation. Well, maybe not mid. I did finish.
“You didn’t have a sock,” he stammered, his stutter more pronounced
with his unease.
“A sock?” I sometimes wanted to slug him across the face. With an axe.
“You’re supposed to have a sock on the doorknob when you’re, um,
going to pound town,” he continued, his tattooed neck turning bright red the
longer he talked.
First—pound town implied that my cock was actually entering a pussy.
Which, unfortunately, it wasn’t.
Second...
“Killian, Killian, Killian.” I flipped the shower off and grabbed a fluffy
white towel off the rack. Wrapping it around my waist—and my now flaccid
dick—I pushed past Killian and entered the sparsely furnished room. “When
a man is in the shower, you don’t fucking enter.”
Yup. I was pretty sure he was still confused.
“I’ve seen you naked hundreds of times,” Killian pointed out as I slipped
on a pair of shorts and a shirt. When he realized how his words could be
construed, he turned crimson, scratching at the back of his neck. “That
sounded really, really creepy.”
“You don’t say?” I taunted dryly, collapsing on one of the queen-sized
beds. We were going to have to double up, and I was under no disillusion that
Z would want me in her bed, in the next room over. Nope, your man Bash
was going to be spooning one of his brothers while his mate fucked a
different guy.
Deciding to end this painfully awkward conversation, I asked, “Did you
message Dair?”
