by Jodi Redford
He grunted. “Because nine times out of ten, there is.”
“Maybe I’m a changed woman, and this is the new me. Extra sassy and consequences be damned.”
He scratched his jaw, unable to puzzle out her strange mood. “Changed woman?”
“Yes, now that I’ve finally accepted reality.”
There was something in her tone that provoked a sliver of foreboding through him. “And what reality is that?”
“No matter how much I might want it, we’re never going to be together.”
The hollow finality in her tone riled queasiness in his gut. There were a million reasons why he should be grateful that she’d come to her senses, but damn if he couldn’t latch on to a single one of them.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I thought you’d be jumping up and down with joy over the news. Now you don’t have to worry about me pining away over you for the rest of my life.”
He swallowed past the misery in his throat. “I never thought you’d do that.”
“I did.” She jogged down the steps, leaving her words arrowed through his heart.
Less than twenty minutes later they strode through the entrance of the club. While the attendant collected their coats, Jerrick eyed Avily’s profile. The ride over she’d been chatty but closed off at the same time—as if she were slowly locking herself away from him piece by piece. The notion constricted his chest, adding a painful pressure behind his sternum. He didn’t want this casual distance from her.
He didn’t want her indifference.
It’d kill him.
“Avi.” The slight crack in his voice made him wince.
“Hmm?” She started to turn toward him the same instant Francesca entered the room from the opposite hall.
The skirt of her filmy, sapphire silk gown rippling in a fluid flow with her steps, the mistress approached them, bearing a smile reserved exclusively for Avily. As if his evening wasn’t shitastic enough, he got to look forward to the next several hours of the woman’s bristling hostility.
It seemed to be a cosmic joke continuously played on him. His own people—the law-abiding ones, anyway—snubbed him for his chosen profession. And the humans despised him for being a member of an asshole race who controlled the planet.
He couldn’t fucking win.
Francesca extended her hand to both of them in regal welcome. “I’m glad you could make it tonight.”
Avily ran nervous fingers through her hair. “I apologize for being late.”
Francesca waved her off with a dismissive flick of the wrist. “There are a few others who’ve yet to arrive. Come, I’ll introduce you to those who are here.”
The second Francesca turned her back, Avily shot him an uncertain glance. That tiny return to her old self might as well have been a benediction from the gods. She needed him. His world was a step closer to being right again.
Leaning down, he brushed his lips to her ear. “You did fantastic last night. You’ll knock this round out of the park.”
The trepidation faded from her eyes, and she nodded. Returning her attention to Francesca, Avily hurried after the mistress. They entered a small parlor that adjoined the miniature ballroom. Roughly a dozen people packed the space. Some stood conversing while others lounged on the various chaises and chairs, partaking in the cocktails and hors d’oeuvres being passed by a muscle-bound server wearing nothing but an animal-print thong. Several of the Doms in the room made a point of caressing the man’s ass while he waited on them.
A subtle shift in the air must have alerted everyone to their presence. Every eye turned in their direction. Feeling like a bug under a compu-scope, Jerrick calmly took their stares in stride. A part of him was thankful to be the one on the receiving end of their speculative gazes. Because gods knew he’d pummel every man in the room to within an inch of their life if they’d treated Avi to the same fondle-fest they’d bestowed upon the half-naked server.
“I would like to introduce you all to our newest members.” Francesca’s voice rang overly loud in the deathly still room. She gestured grandly to Avily. “This is Mistress Scarlett, recently relocated from Helias. Please properly bid her welcome, along with her sub, Bill.”
One by one, the members broke off from their groups to introduce themselves. Most of the pairings were as Jerrick had expected. Male Doms with their female subs. There was one token male couple and a beautiful blonde with her equally stunning raven-haired female submissive who insisted on staring at the floor the entire time her master spoke to Avily.
Once the last introduction was made, Avi escorted him to the far corner of the room where the server was handing Francesca a flute brimming with a frothy pink liquid. Stretching onto her tiptoes, Avi whispered near his ear. “I feel like I just endured the biggest test of my life.”
It was a welcome thought, considering he had a sinking suspicion the real test had yet to come.
Francesca spotted their approach and patted the available space on the chaise she occupied. Dutifully accepting the invitation, Avily sat and carefully crossed her legs while Jerrick kneeled beside her. At least the carpeted floor was a bloody sight more comfortable than the marble in the bar area.
“You must try my house punch. The recipe is an old one handed down from my mother’s side. But I warn you, the kick might be more than you’re used to.”
Avi snorted. “Clearly you’ve never seen me put away a six-pack of Larry the Fairy.”
Francesca’s lips twitched. “I confess to being a fan of Larry’s myself. But I still think you’ll be pleasantly surprised by our punch.”
“Well, I’m the adventurous sort, so count me in.” Avily took a delicate sip from the flute the server handed her and murmured her pleasure. “It’s divine.” She began to hand the glass to him for a taste, but Francesca halted her with two fingers pressed to Avi’s hand.
“Forgive my house rules, but that is not how the subs under Rapture’s roof are permitted to take their drink.”
Avi frowned. “I don’t follow.”
A chuckle came from the ginger-haired Dom to the left of them. “If you will permit a demonstration, Mistress Dominitri?”
Francesca waved graciously, and the man caught his female submissive’s eye with a heated look. She quickly unbuttoned his shirt, and he stretched backward on the chase while she dribbled the fruity aperitif along his torso, her nimble tongue darting to catch the alcohol before it dripped from his skin.
Avi blinked. “You must spend a fortune on your upholstery cleaning bills.”
A laugh skipped from Francesca. “Small price to pay for such a delightful way to partake in drink, wouldn’t you say?” She motioned to the flute clutched between Avi’s fingers. “The choice is yours where you wish him to lap it from.”
Sweet gods. This could get interesting. And likely result in a killer case of blue balls for him.
Avi’s hold on the flute tightened until the fragile glass threatened to splinter beneath her grip. Apparently realizing she was seconds away from demolishing Mistress Dominitri’s stemware, she cautiously settled it on the ground near her foot. “Think I’ll make him wait for a taste.”
He didn’t know whether to sigh in relief or sob in a self-pity fest.
Her eyes sparkling with humor and consideration, Francesca studied Avi. “You’re not at all like any master I’ve known.”
Oh shit. Heart thudding, he silently willed Avi to stay strong and focused. The last thing they needed was her buckling to the squeeze Francesca was placing on their alias.
“I’ve never been a follower of the crowd. I believe in doing things my own way.”
Good girl. He was so damn proud of her in that moment he could have kissed her feet. Of course, not like that’d look weird considering where they were.
“Hmm, that is a wise philosophy to uphold.” Francesca rubbed a finger over her chin. “My Casper was similar in his outl
ook.”
Adrenaline kicking into gear, he subtly nudged Avi’s leg. Fortunately her head was already in the game. Tucking a loose tendril behind her ear, she leaned closer to Francesca, adopting a conspiratorial air. “It was probably unusual for a man of his station to be a sub, particularly to a woman.”
“Not at all. I’ve often found that the men holding a great deal of power and responsibility are those who most long to retire it at the end of the day, particularly in the bedroom.” Francesca cocked her head to the side. “No, what I was referring to was his overall philosophy on life. It colored all he touched. All he believed in. Not everyone proscribed to his way of thinking. They didn’t understand much less appreciate the scope of his brilliance.” The taint of sadness once again clouded Francesca’s gaze, and she fell into a brooding silence.
“I’m sorry. I know his absence must pain you horribly,” Avi said softly.
“It’s as if the one thread keeping my soul intact has been ripped away from me.” Francesca sucked in a deep breath, her melancholy dissipating as she peered at Avi. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You must think me terribly depressing.”
Avi’s eyes were moist. “No, I think you’re sad and lonely, and that makes me ache for you.”
Francesca smiled and petted Avi’s hand as if she were the one who required consoling. “You are a sensitive soul. Casper would have adored you. But come, we are not here to speak of sadness. It would be a blasphemy within a house reserved for only pleasure.” She picked up Avi’s unfinished punch and placed the flute in her hand. “Drink up, because the party has already started without us.” Her laugh husky, Francesca gestured to the room at large.
Jerrick glanced to the nearest couple. The ginger-haired Dom reclined in his seat, his sub bouncing away on his cock, her mouth open in a perpetual O of ecstasy. They weren’t the only ones lost in the throes of rapture. The next lounge over, another Dom had his sub bent over a cushion, his cock plowing into her from behind. In fact, a quick scan showed the entire room to be immersed in some type of frisky sexual activity or another. Even the male sub was greedily gobbling his master’s stout cock.
The wet slap of flesh on flesh burned into Jerrick’s brain. Fired his blood. His magic was reacting to the excess, itching to burst free and absorb the sexual energy charging the air. He groaned and mopped his face.
This place was going to fucking kill him. But no more so than the heady enticement of the woman next to him. He was excruciatingly aware of every inch of Avily. The oxygen she breathed. The luscious arousal she exuded. She was the embodiment of sex, love and lust. Everything he craved to the marrow of his bones.
His hand slid to her thigh, brushing her silky skin. The catch of her breath was an erotic symphony to his ears.
“Your sub is attempting to top you from the bottom.” Francesca’s voice held equal amounts of amusement and reprimand.
“I…” Avi’s tongue peeked out and swept her lips as his fingers grew bolder and stroked over the lace of her panties. Her crotch was soaked.
The knowledge speared a fierce hunger low in his belly. He stared into her eyes, silently demanding her to command him. If she said the word, he’d bury his mouth between her legs and gorge on her until she lost count of how many times she came.
Command me.
Avi took a swift breath, the rise of her cleavage tormenting him. “I think you need to taste this lovely punch.”
“Anything you desire, my mistress.” He knew he likely resembled a predatory lion as he situated himself in front of Avi, but damn if he possessed the fortitude to temper the hunger controlling him. He paid no mind to Francesca when she abandoned her perch and moved instead to an adjacent chair. His solitary focus was Avi.
She took a sip from her flute, and his gaze dipped to the droplets of punch glistening on her lips. Moving in, he captured her mouth with his, greedily suckling and licking. Long after the last trace of drink was gone, he continued consuming the sweetness of her, his thirst for her unquenchable. Her tongue played hide and seek from his, but he would have none of that. He pursued, coaxed and cajoled, wore at her defenses until she surrendered with a wispy moan that wrapped like a velvet fist around his cock.
Sliding his mouth to her ear, he nipped the softness of her lobe. “Command me to go down on you.”
A tremor coursed through her, but her hesitation weighed at him. Desperation made him a caged beast. “I need to taste you.” Sink inside and make you mine. His own thoughts tormented him. “They don’t need to see. I’ll take you somewhere private. Somewhere I can lay you out and spend hours worshipping you with my mouth.”
Her shaky breath feathered his cheek. “But that won’t suit our purposes, will it?”
Damn it, it would his.
He followed her gaze to the intent stares they were collecting from their randy neighbors. Apparently screwing their brains out didn’t deter the club members from expecting a show in return for the one they provided.
There was no way in hell he and Avi would get out of this room without giving them something to appease their debauched little hearts.
Avi’s nervous trembling clued him in that she’d come to the same conclusion.
Ah hell. No matter how much he longed it to be otherwise, she wouldn’t be able to go through with it. Not how he wanted anyway, with his tongue buried inside her pussy and her clit pulsing beneath his stroking finger.
They were going to have to fake this.
He kissed her again. Caressing her temple, he locked her into his gaze. Trust me? he mouthed.
She nodded, her unconditional belief in him ripping him inside out. He reclaimed her lips with a ferocious craving that was far from counterfeit. When it came to his encompassing passion for her, he required no acting.
Getting into her role, Avi unclipped his leash, and hooking her finger through the loop on his collar, urged him up from his knees. She directed him to sit on the chaise. Inching her skirt up slightly, she straddled his lap. Her hands roved his chest, reducing his nerve endings to a quivering mass of sensation in her wake. She played with his nipples, the gentle rake of her nails prodding his groan and an insistent surge of his cock behind his fly. Her eyes devilish, she lightly pinched him between her fingers. “I think we should get these pierced.”
Over my dead body. Shuddering, he leaned in for another kiss. She held him off with a stern look and a finger pressed to his lips. “More topping from the bottom? I trained you better than that.”
Her assertive tone and temptress eyes were playing havoc with his equilibrium. Even while he battled the compulsion to toss her onto her back and show her who was boss, he was swamped with an equally intense impulse to sink into the cushions and let her have her wicked way with him as she’d done at Lover’s Knot. Thank gods she didn’t have a peacockian feather handy. He’d never survive it.
She snared his bottom lip with her teeth. Excitement and lust tripped through his veins. Her hand crawled down his belly and freed the snap on his pants. The leather submitted to her demands, and a moment later he was enveloped by the heat of her questing hand. He was too past the brink of control to give a rat’s ass that the entire room was ogling his cock. The only thing occupying his attention was the brain-frying, exploratory glide of her fingers along his shaft. She teased him with a corkscrewing motion that swirled from his base all the way up to his swollen gland.
Her tongue delving inside his mouth, she gave a whimpery moan. The need to touch her overwhelming all other thought, he grazed his fingers over the smooth skin he encountered just shy of her skirt hem. Venturing upward, he cupped her hips and hiked her closer. She settled on his aching cock with a gasp. The wet heat of her pussy tantalized him through the silk of her panties. A tiny adjustment of the damp garment and he could push deep inside the heaven he most longed for.
He stayed exactly where he was. Breath tight in his lungs, he clenched his fingers on her waist, knuckles cramping. A sliver of warning embedded beneath his skin. He’d
pleaded with her to trust him, but here he was, his willpower at her mercy. If there ever was a time she held supreme control over him, it was now. Her virginity was a fragile, beckoning barrier easily sundered if she chose to rid herself of it once and for all. No force in existence would give him the strength to deny her.
Heart pounding, he waited for her next move. She gyrated her hips, her silken glide along his throbbing organ bleeding every thought from his brain. From the corner of his eye, he caught the blurred faces raptly taking in his and Avi’s world-class performance. Not a damn one of them mattered as he matched her swivel for swivel. Tangling his hands in her hair, he pulled her in for a soul-deep kiss.
Somewhere beyond the hypnotic spell Avi had enslaved him with, another sensation intruded. Voluptuous sensuality that held a sweeter edge than the raw, quick, lightning lust he was used to. It was like nothing he could have imagined. A rich complexity that flowed through him like decadent chocolate, dense and oh so intoxicating.
He didn’t know how it was possible—but he was immersed in Avi. Drenched in her pleasure.
His magic, as she’d claimed last night? It made no sense, but there was no other explanation for what he was experiencing. He nuzzled her neck, his senses swimming in her. She was an exquisite decadence he’d savor to the final drop. He sucked the sensitive spot on the side of her neck, and she arched in his arms. The pleasure crested within him like a relentless wave set to crash. He thrust faster against her softness, each satiny caress along his engorged flesh spiking his pleasure to the red-hot zone.
The impact of her orgasm sheared through him, a dizzying blaze of color and light. He rode the insane swell, chasing the tail end with his own mind-obliterating climax. Hit with that double whammy, all he could do was clutch Avi to him, his solitary lifeline in the crazy haze of pure sensation.
Chapter Nineteen
Somewhere during her free fall back to earth, Avily detected the sound of clapping. Struggling to catch her breath, she gasped and shuddered against Jerrick. She blinked, her vision taking forever to focus.
