by Skylar Kade
Her eyelids popped up and she glared at him.
“Keep ’em open, love. I want to see your beautiful green eyes when you come.”
One hand reached between them to thumb her clit and she was lost. It took so much willpower to keep her eyes pried open, but for him, she’d do it. She studied the sheen of sweat on his golden chest, the lines of pleasure on his face. Pressing up on her elbows, she got a perfect view of him fucking into her. His thumb picked up speed and the sparks turned into a full-fledged wildfire.
“Sir…”
“You are not allowed to come yet, Hope. Wait for permission.”
Well that was new and Hope normally would have chafed at the idea but, damn, it turned her on more. She struggled against the orgasm trying to suck her under, thought about interior design and her crappy apartment and the siblings who weren’t returning her calls and it took the edge off just enough that she had a modicum of control. Until Gabe pushed her flat to the bed, threw her legs over his shoulders and took her more deeply than before.
Shivers traced up and down her limbs and sweat broke out on her forehead. His cock was thick and long, and in this position it hit every single nerve she had. He even skimmed her clit with every stroke, giving a little hitch at the end to rub against her hot button.
“Sir, please, please, please,” became her mantra, because thinking about anything else, such as his muscles flexing and his eyes boring into hers, would do her in.
He nibbled the tender part of her ankle and the unexpected sensation had her teetering on the edge of orgasm. “Beg for it, Hope, and I’ll let you come.”
Lines of strain grooved his face and for both their sakes, she let loose her rambling, incoherent-from-lust words. “Sir, Gabe, baby, please, I want to come for you, feel you come inside me, melt into you, God, I love you so much.” She paused to catch her breath.
“Say it again,” he growled, “say you love me.”
“I love you, Sir, I love you.”
His hands gripped her thighs—she’d have perfect bruises tomorrow—and he gritted out, “Come for me.”
She exploded, a rainbow flashing behind her eyes once more and tingles numbing every part of her body except her pussy, which was overwhelmed with sensation. Two more thrusts and he came, reigniting her nerves.
Interminable minutes later, he rolled off the bed and padded into the bathroom. He returned, condom-free, head and face damp with water. “Do you need anything, baby?”
“You. Come here, Sir. I’m exhausted and ready for bed.”
His smile was brilliant and it touched parts of her long-dormant heart. “That sounds perfect.”
He tucked in next to her and wrapped her in his arms. She fell asleep more contented and sated than she’d been in her life. She just wondered how long it could last.
Chapter Thirteen
As they lay in bed the next morning, Hope could feel the questions boiling in her mind. What happened now? She refused to ask, not wanting to ruin the moment.
Gabe still rested beside her in all his naked glory. One of his arms was tucked under her head, the other flung across her waist, possessive even in his sleep. She turned and kissed his lips, barely rousing him.
With a smug smile—she’d thoroughly exhausted him last night—she wiggled out from under his arms and threw on a spa robe. Though no sounds broke the silence of her room, it seemed more alive with Gabe there.
Since she’d moved back to LA, her apartment had felt so empty. She envisioned Gabe there with her, filling the space with life and love and his beautiful smile. Falling asleep with him every night and waking in his arms every morning.
Bright morning light filtered through the curtains, and Hope swept them aside to reveal mounds of snow, pure and white, leading out to the cliff. And to the left, beyond the parking lot, a snow plow coming up the road.
Looked like they were free. Hope tried not to be disappointed, but so long as she and Gabe were trapped up here, the pressure to define their blooming relationship remained on the horizon. She’d like to think the collar and the I-love-yous meant something special—she knew so, deep in her soul—but until they talked about the practical implications of a relationship, she would be on edge.
A slight knock at the door pulled her from the landscape view. She trotted over and peeked through the peep hole. Ms. Lamont stood there, looking for all the world like a grown-up Girl Scout selling cookies door to door.
Hope eased open the door. “Ms. Lamont, good morning. Can I help you?”
Clad in a smart black pencil skirt and red silk blouse, she said, “Why yes, Hope, I think you can. And please call me Kat—all my friends do. You and I have much to talk about, cherie.”
Holding her robe closed—naw, she didn’t feel sloppy and insecure around Kat—Hope gestured to the couch. “Would you like to sit? And can I get you something to drink?”
Kat reached into the hall and rolled in a cart topped with covered plates and two icy pitchers. “No, may I get you something to drink? And I am hoping you are hungry.” She looked to the bedroom. “I know Gabriel will be.” She flashed a blinding smile and stopped the cart beside the kitchenette, setting out two plates and putting the third in the microwave. “That should keep Gabriel’s food warm for now. He can wake later, ça va? Come, take a plate and we shall sit and talk, just we women.”
This became more surreal by the moment. Hope would have expected admonishments, or warnings about Gabe…something, anything but this welcoming feast. “All right. Let me just go change…”
Kat waved the thought away. “No, do not be silly. You are lovely and that robe is comfortable. It is why I chose them, after all. Come sit, Hope.”
She liked the way Kat said her name, her French accent almost dropping the “H” from her name. Kat had a warm, soothing cadence to her voice that put Hope at ease.
Plate in hand, Hope took a seat on the soft green couch, turning to face the other woman still in the kitchen. “Water or juice?” Kat asked.
“Oh, water, please.”
Balancing her plate and two glasses, Kat joined her, taking the other end of the couch.
“There are three things we must discuss, and at least one will be unpleasant.” Kat took a bite of her eggs and bacon, her bright red lipstick not daring to budge.
Hope filled her mouth with a slice of French toast—a bite that melted on her tongue in buttery, starchy, sugary goodness—so she didn’t bombard Kat with questions. The woman would get to her point eventually, and her food would only grow cold if she waited to eat until this was over.
After a few bites, Kat put down her fork and said, “I’ve been informed that Master Joseph has quite the unsavory past.” Her level gaze saw more than Hope would have liked.
Methodically chewing and swallowing her food despite her now-churning stomach, she took a sip of water before answering. “That would be correct.” How much did she know?
“Hope, I do not play games. Gabriel told me of your relationship with Master Joseph, and I need to know if it is true or not.”
“Why?” Banning him from Maison Domine would do little good to a man whose basement was his own personal dungeon.
A vicious smile curled her lips. “Because I know everyone who is anyone in the kink and fetish community. A few well-placed phone calls and he will be blacklisted from every club, store and dungeon in the area. And word like that spreads as wildfire.”
Hope gaped at her, and joy sprouted in her chest. “Really?” She set her plate on the coffee table, too overwhelmed to eat. “You’d do that?”
Kat gave a delicate snort. “Naturally, cherie. Keeping my guests safe is the biggest part of my job. So did Gabriel tell me true?”
Holding her gaze, Hope replied. “I have the scars to prove it.”
Kat’s sharp nod was answer enough. “Pardonez-moi.” Kat set her plate on the table, rose and pulled out her cell phone. A flurry of French erupted from her red-painted lips. The only word Hope caught was “asshole fils de pute
bastard.”
When she returned to her seat, her face emanated serenity. “He will not trouble us any longer. But you and I, we must still address this issue of our Gabriel.”
Hope cringed. “He didn’t mean to, really, we’ve talked about it and I understand, please, do not punish him for what happened. We both mistreated each other terribly over the course of this…I guess you could call it a relationship.”
If she could so easily blacklist Master Joseph, she could do the same for Gabe. Hope did not want to be the reason for his being banned from the kink community—Gabe’s livelihood relied upon his good reputation.
A tinkle of laughter escaped Kat’s lips. “Oh darling, you just answered my question. Gabriel and I have already talked. He will be on probation here for three months, but I may reconsider that if you are his only partner. What I wanted to know was your intentions toward him. He is a dear friend of mine, and has been through a great deal in his life. He needs a strong submissive—a partner—to help him flourish and grow.” She picked up her plate and continued eating.
Hope followed suit. She was mid-chew when Kat said, “So when will you marry him?”
She almost choked on her food. “Wh-what? Oh no, marriage isn’t even something…no.”
“Jaxon Greene said the same thing last year.” She cocked her head to the side. “Is that not Gabe’s collar you are wearing?”
Hope fingered the beautiful necklace. “Well, yes, but this doesn’t mean we’re getting married.”
That laugh again. “No, cherie, not yet.” She leaned forward and her voice softened. “Did he tell you he made that right after you left him?”
Hope’s heart clenched and tears sprang to her eyes. “I-I had no idea.”
“It’s true.” At the sound of Gabe’s voice, Hope craned her neck around to see him standing in the bedroom doorway. His slacks clung to his muscular thighs in an oh so tempting way, and to top it off, he was shirtless. “Good morning, Hope.”
His grin told her she’d been staring.
“Good morning, Sir,” she said, eyes still tracing the lines of his torso. She thought nothing of using the title anymore, not when he’d so thoroughly earned it.
Kat echoed her greeting. “There is a plate for you in the microwave if you would like to join us. We were just talking about you.”
A wry grin quirked his kissable mouth. Hope couldn’t turn far enough around, but she heard Gabe pop open the microwave and a moment later he took up residence on the lounge chair across from her. His eyes held a possessive heat that melted her insides.
“So what were you ladies saying about me, hmm?” Gabe started to eat and even that was sexy. Hope couldn’t watch him without thinking of the deliciously naughty things he’d done with that mouth yesterday. And Friday. She wanted a repeat—many repeats, for as long as he’d have her.
“Oh Gabriel, I told Hope that you are crazy about her. And I am always right about these things.”
His deep brown eyes bored into hers. “She’s right, you know.”
Every nerve ending whooshed alive and the whole world came into sharp focus. “You…you are?”
“Of course he is,” Kat piped up. “I am not wrong about such things.”
Gabe rose and came to sit beside her. He took her plate and put it…somewhere. She didn’t notice or care because all she knew was Gabe, the feel of his hands around hers and his dark, manly smell, the seriousness in his eyes.
“Yeah. When you left, I was devastated. And I know it wasn’t the most noble thing to do, but I’m glad I convinced you to come here this weekend. Closure,” he laughed, “the only closure I want is knowing that you’re mine.”
Tears filling her eyes, weak vulnerable tears she could care less about showing, she leaned in to give him a passionate kiss. She moaned at the feel of his tongue dancing along hers, eager to feel his tongue caress other parts of her body.
A throat clearing broke the spell.
Gabe still held her face between his palms and he had a goofy look on his face. “Love you,” he said, giving her a swift peck on the lips.
With that, he rose and looked over at Kat, who Hope had forgotten was still in the room. Hope’s cheeks blazed with embarrassment, but Gabe had no such problem.
“Kat, you know how to spoil a perfectly good moment,” he said.
“Oh, Gabriel, I always have impeccable timing. And I will leave you two paramours alone as soon as I finish my business here.” She turned back to Hope. “So I hear you are an interior designer. What do you think of my resort?” Katrina cocked her head, expectant look on her face.
Hope bit her tongue and tried to formulate a response that was flattering yet left room for improvement. The moment stretched on and her blush deepened.
Then Kat laughed and patted her shoulder. “Cherie, I was just, how do you say, messing with you. Gabriel told me you are quite the insightful designer and practically demanded I hire you.”
Hope shot Gabe a mortified look, to which he responded with an unrepentant shrug.
“We shall need to negotiate terms, of course, but I would like to offer you the contract.”
Hope wanted to squeal, but managed an enthusiastic, “I’d be honored” instead. She glanced at Gabe, who nodded at her, heart in his eyes.
Kat stood and grabbed her plate, setting it on the cart as she headed to the door. “Call down to the kitchen and they will send someone to pick this up. You children have fun now!”
A wave over her shoulder, a click of the door, and Hope was alone with Gabe.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” she said, “for everything, Sir.”
He patted his thigh. “Come sit here, love.”
She obeyed, heart racing with each step she took. His lap felt as if it was made for her, his shoulder was at the perfect height to cradle her head, and his arms embraced her with ease. Home. The word floated through her mind and instead of questioning it, Hope let the idea settle over her. Damn, did it feel right. “You feel like home, Sir.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I was going to say the very same thing.” He pulled back from her and tilted her chin so she met his eyes. “We do have a few things to iron out, though.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Oh? Do tell.”
“For starters, I’d like to take you on a real date. Are you free this Friday?”
“I have to wait until Friday?” She pretend sighed. “If I must…I suppose I can cancel that other date I had planned.”
He caught both hands behind her back and clamped a hand around them. “Hope,” he said, warning in his tone, “you will not have a date with another man. Only me. And I would have suggested a date tomorrow, but I wanted to give you time apart if you needed it.”
Dizzy from the sensual grip in which he held her, she barely responded. “Okay, got it. No dates.” Her eyelids fluttered shut. “And I don’t need time. I know what I want.”
His lips captured hers, his fingers threading through her hair. She drifted in the sensation. When he broke the kiss, they were both breathing heavily.
“Love you,” he said, settling his arms around her waist.
“Love you too.” The words rolled from her lips so naturally, it felt as if she’d been saying them her whole life.
She wanted to spend the rest of her years saying them.
A comfortable silence fell upon the room, echoed by the glittering snow outside. She had no idea how much time had passed when Gabe said, “So, Hope, where are you living these days?”
“You don’t want to know,” she groaned.
“Yes I do, because I think you’re living with me.”
She sat upright and stared. “You’re kidding, right?”
A rakish smile lit his face. “Hell no, woman. I lost you once. This time, I’m keeping a close eye on you.”
She liked the sound of that. ‘Well,” she hedged, “I guess I can get behind that. But you’re going to have to help me move. Three times in two years is just too muc
h for me.”
“Deal.” He sealed it with a soul-searing kiss.
“What are we waiting for?” She bit her lip, having the crazy urge to run to her apartment, throw everything in her car and invade his loft.
“That.” He took her lips again. “I just wanted to hear a little enthusiasm,” he said, a smug smile on his beautiful face.
“Well in that case, take me home, dammit, before I get violent and you have to punish me. Then who knows when we’d ever leave here.”
Packing and driving back to Los Angeles was a blur. They had to travel separately, but Gabe’s motorcycle stood in his driveway when she arrived at his new artist loft. The sun hung low in the Sunday sky and the smell of rain filled the air. She loved LA winters, barely cold at night and mild during the day, with the occasional rainstorm to sweep aside the smog.
She shut her car door and walked into the open garage. Machines and leather and metal covered every conceivable surface and, despite being crowded, it seemed well-organized, though her fingers itched to rearrange things. Leave it to Gabe to be king of controlled chaos. “Hello?”
Arms wrapped around her from behind. She would have been alarmed, except she’d smelled his cologne a moment before he’d touched her. “Mmm, hey, baby. Welcome home.” He nibbled the crook of her neck and she swept a hand back to cup his head.
“A girl could get used to this kind of greeting.”
“That’s the idea.” He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the door leading inside. She gasped. “You really shouldn’t carry me across—”
“Well, I just did. Looks like you’re stuck with me.” His eyes sparkled with unparalleled love. Settling her on her feet, Gabe entwined his fingers with hers.
She looked up at him, chest and throat choked on her love for him. “I love you, Gabriel Cassidy. Thank you for bringing me home.”
He kissed her hand. “Always, baby. Always.”
