by Angel Payne
And then maybe not.
He stopped in front of the door engraved with a rearing cobra. Shit. She remembered this one from Friday night, and was happy they’d bypassed it then. A shiver claimed her as he lowered then pulled the key out of his pocket. The tremor was just the start. Aroused fire and terrified ice battled for control of her bloodstream. “Fight or flight” got morphed into “submit or sprint.” She honestly didn’t know what to do. What lie beyond the door, and what she’d experience there, were as unfathomable as the cobra’s black irises—not a position she was used to being in. She liked plans. Structure. Knowing the path ahead and preparing herself for it.
Preparedness?
So not happening right now.
And she’d rarely been more scared because of it.
Or felt more alive.
Embrace that part. Concentrate on that part.
The masked demigod next to her didn’t make a single part of the task easy. She looked up to find Sexy right there, studying her with steady cobalt eyes. She quaked all over again as he tilted his head, almost as if taking inventory of her—with a blatant overlay of sexual intent.
An electrical charge. That was what his focus felt like. She sizzled from the jolt of it, burning up from the inside out. Her breaths came faster. Her pussy dripped wetter.
All before he leaned in and kissed her again.
Ohhhh…damn.
If his mouth was the devil’s own tool when he took her hard and fast, it was hell’s calling card with this slow and sensual shit. The electricity in her veins turned to pure lightning bolts, driving her hands to his nape, trying to pull his mouth in deeper. The maddening man just grabbed her wrists and pushed them around to her back, locking them there as he took his sweet, slow time with every inch of her moaning, sighing mouth.
When he finally dragged away, there was a little grin on his face. Tess seriously wanted to slap the expression off him, but couldn’t. He was so damn sexy like this, all Dommed-out in arrogance and swagger, seeming to just know how desperately she’d dreamed of a man who’d adore her snark but push past it to the other person waiting underneath…the submissive Odette, still so unsure of her value as a female; the blank space who craved to be filled; the hungry desire in search of service.
He got it. All of it. He just…did. She knew it, even if she wasn’t able to gaze into his shadowed eyes and see it there. It was more than what she could just observe in him, anyway. It was what she felt from him—and yeah, even that cocky grin was part of it. So the guy could keep it—for now.
Like he’s going to let you have any choice in that, sister.
Like she even wanted to have a choice…
He tugged her face a little higher by cupping both her cheeks. “You are so goddamn beautiful like this.”
She crunched her brows. “As opposed to what?”
He blinked, seeming flustered for a moment, before stammering, “Well…”
“Wait.” Comprehension set in. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on. The skirt from Friday wasn’t that bad.”
Why did he look relieved instead of peeved? “Fine. I’ll let you hang on to that one, red.”
He kept smirking. She kept scowling. That’d been too easy. What was going on? What kind of a mind fuck was he setting her up for?
She slanted a knowing smile. Maybe she should get ahead on this one. “But you like this skirt better.”
“Won’t argue with you on that one, either.”
So much for getting ahead. He tumbled her back into aroused mush with his gruffer take on that, the disk turning his growl into a verbal vibrator. Tess bit her lip, trying to regulate her shaky breath, along with the new flow of arousal in her core. The effort was fruitless once he skated his hands down to her waist again—by way of a direct route over her breasts.
“You know…it’s because of you, right?” she rasped.
“Me?”
“The reason I’m ‘so damn beautiful.’” She air-quoted for emphasis. “You…make me this way. Here,”—she gestured at the walls—“I can become a different person. A person I really like. And you helped her to be free.” She dropped her arms behind her back, turning her face fully back up to him. “She likes you too, Sir.” Soft smile. “She likes what you like to do to her.”
He swallowed hard. His jaw clenched. “Does she remember what I said on the phone yesterday? About what I want to do to her tonight?”
She nodded with slow solemnity. “You’re not going to play easy. You’re going to push.”
He pulled in a long breath through his nose. “That is so fucking right.”
Before she blinked again, he pulled her body in tighter than ever. His heat engulfed her like the blue flames in his eyes, searing his message in. She swayed a little but he caught her with a fierce grip. She had no doubt he’d do it again, even if she was tumbling over the side of a cliff.
“Oh,” she sighed.
The griffin responded with a low growl. “Tell me you want this, little rose.”
“Yes.” She gasped. “Oh yes, Sir.”
“Tell me you understand that I’m going to push your limits, but that if you even whisper your safe word, everything stops and we talk.”
“Yes. Ohhh!” She dug her teeth into her lip, coinciding with how the man pushed his thigh forward, making her damn-near ride it here in the hallway. She forced herself to keep looking at him, even as her sex swelled and her thighs trembled.
“I—I—yes,” she finally got out. “I understand. I say the safe word and you stop.” But Dear God, don’t stop now…
“So you’re ready?”
“Fuck!” she snapped, glad that he didn’t turn his little smile into a laugh. The sexy bite he gave his own lower lip was tantalizing enough. “Dammit. Yes. I’m ready, okay?”
“Good.” So damn calm. So in control. So silken smooth as he slid a step back from her. That still gave him plenty of access for his next action: reaching to yank hard at the ends of the laces on her bodice, making her dress pop open enough to bare her breasts. His urbane demeanor did nothing to prepare her for the double pinches he gave her nipples, causing her to yelp and glare up again.
His grin was gone. His face was framed in lines that hadn’t been there before. Strict angles. Inscrutable authority. Complete domination.
“Now you’ll strip.” His voice was low and firm, a man expecting to be heeded. “Leave your clothes out here. They’ll be taken care of. Join me inside with your body fully naked, your mind fully clear—and your will ready to serve mine.”
Chapter Nine
‡
How was this possible?
Dan did his best to figure out the anomaly, without ruining it.
He wasn’t supposed to walk into the dungeon feeling this good. Every one of his nerve endings wasn’t supposed to feel like an earthquake had struck. Every drop of his blood wasn’t supposed to be transformed into solar flares. Every muscle in his body wasn’t supposed to be infused with magma, already threatening to blow the doors off his mind.
This was crazy. Unreal. Beautiful—yet disturbing. This was all shit for after the scene, the high he got after she got hers. Yeah, but he’d never started a session by making out with the most gorgeous subbie in the world, in the middle of a club’s public room—then continued it with her in the play room hall, where she stripped naked for him, so ready to be commanded to more.
His incredible girl, ready to bow to his orders.
If he’d harbored any doubt about doing this with her for a second time, it rapidly faded to nothing.
Then disappeared completely—as soon as he turned at the sound of her reentering the room.
Holy. Fuck.
He shoved his tongue against the roof of his mouth to keep the damn thing from falling on the floor. You’ve seen her nude before, numb nuts. Remember? Less than a week ago? Just down the hall?
He grunted the inner voice into silence. Nothing, not even his own brain, was going to steal the power of this moment. The b
reath he held as she stepped through the portal, the light from the hallway silhouetting her sleek curves. The same breath, released in a hot rush as she closed the door, quickly licking her lips. Sucking the air back in as she approached on bare feet, toenails pink as the flush across her skin, gaze darting over the equipment he could choose from to bind her body for his use tonight. Vertical stretch rack. Suspended fucking swing. Leather-bound whipping bench with an optional stockade. Full-body pin cage.
Her eyes flared while gazing at that last one. He hid his responding grin. Watching her get thrown off her game…it was a fucking turn-on, especially because he saw how aroused she got from it, too. Such a contrast to the little laser beam he knew from the office.
Such a beautiful difference.
Such a perfect little subbie.
He was going to take her deep tonight. So much farther. Every gorgeous green glint in her eyes showed him how much she needed it. And fuck, did he need it.
Without a word, he unbuttoned his vest then tossed it to a nearby chair. Christ, how he wanted to take off his pants, too. Nothing made him happier than getting to be as free as his submissive while playing with her—but in this case, he’d be tempted to put the cart before the horse, fuck her before he took her senses to the realms he wanted to. For now, he’d settle for having her fully bare—
And fully ready.
Goddamn, how beautiful she was. The light in her fiery hair. The strawberry tips of her erect breasts. The bumps of anticipation, pebbling all over the rest of her skin…
Dan slid a hand up, spreading four fingers along her nape and his thumb against her jaw. With a tug, he brought her face up, pulling her gaze into his. For a moment, he let himself get lost in her eyes. Damn. All the exotic lagoons of the world couldn’t compare to the magic of those depths, which could’ve entranced him for hours—if his cock didn’t have other plans. As the only part of him not sailing in sensory bliss yet, the aching fucker told him exactly what he could do with these “lingering” moments of artistic mush.
Fine. She’s the most breathtaking thing on earth. In her smile, you find your home. In her kisses, you feel your soul. That’s not getting you—or me—anywhere right now, asshole.
No sense in fighting the point—since it made complete sense.
It was time to get this part started. They’d both waited too damn long already.
“Safe word?” he prompted.
Her lips quirked, but only for a second. “Taffy, Sir.”
“Thank you, dear one.” He stopped, curious, when his response visibly impacted her. “What?”
She released a laugh, clearly self-conscious. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—I’m being silly.”
His own lips twisted. “Sometimes I like silly.”
“Sure. And I like Brussel sprouts.”
“You hate Brussel sprouts.”
“My point exac—” She cocked her head. “How do you know that?”
Goddamn.
You lose control of this charade now, while the woman is standing before you like Eve before the snake struck, and you’ll be the serpent with its head cut off—in more ways than one.
“Everyone hates Brussel sprouts.” Wasn’t hard to interject a menacing growl. “And if you want to keep dancing around the subject, red, we can just get back to it at the pin cage.”
She gasped. Glowered. Then sighed. “Fine.” She hitched a shoulder before murmuring, “‘Dear one’. It’s—well, I like it.”
He’d harbored no expectations of what she’d say. Even so, the confession stunned him—in a lot of wonderful ways. Warmth bathed him, enough to push a hard kiss on her forehead. “Go kneel on the mat in front of the whipping bench, dear one.”
A hum bubbled from her in response. Such a little sound, once more bringing a massive flood of heat. He should be burning up from it, but it didn’t feel like enough. Why? Had his world been such a cold place before now, that even these tidbits of fun affected him so?
He refused to dissect that answer right now. Here, in this room, the only thing that mattered was the figure of nude perfection who lowered herself to the floor in the spot he’d designated. While she did that, Dan approached the armoire of toys, bondage aids, and discipline items Max kept stocked in all the private playrooms. The closet had resembled a standing crypt in their room last Friday; tonight, he stepped over to a large wicker-looking case with ornately-carved wooden shelves inside. Items called to him from the inventory, matching exactly the thoughts in his head about what might please his little red tonight…but also what it would please him to watch her endure.
Keep the beast leashed. At least for a little while longer.
She remained still as he paced toward her with calm, sure steps. The new outbreak of little bumps on her skin told him another story about her state of mind, however—especially as he paused to lay out the toys on a nearby utility table. The pebbles grew more pronounced as he deliberately clattered the items, arranging them as he’d need them. He couldn’t help another half-smile when he caught her peeking over at the array. He had to adjust his cock when she licked her lips and fought to regulate her breaths.
And then there was the other observation he couldn’t ignore. Like he’d want to.
“Dammit, little girl. If your tits get any harder, I’m going to hang a couple of carabiner hooks from them.”
Her eyes popped wide before a glare took over. “Don’t joke.”
“Who says I’m joking?”
He made sure the light caught his face enough for her to see his wink. She squirmed, obviously still not sure whether to trust him. He chuckled.
“Ohhhh, little rose. This is going to be fun.”
“Says the guy standing at the torture toy table?” One side of her mouth lifted.
“Says the sadist who’s found a little glutton for his brand of fun.”
“I am not—” She stuttered when he raised a finger.
“Ssshhh.” He selected a patent leather flogger from the table. “You have nothing to prove here. There’s no ‘PC quota’ to fill, nobody to check off the ‘approved’ box—except me.” He let his head drop, admiring all of her body again. She had legs like a gazelle, and they looked even better curled into the submissive kneel. “And believe me, I approve,” he growled.
That gorgeous pink tint stole over her skin again. “I’m still not a glutton.”
“For these?” he countered, holding up the flogger. “For what they bring you…the pain and the pleasure?”
With a deft flick, he tapped the falls over the curve of her shoulder.
“Oh!” After her startled yeep, her body trembled then melted. She leaned toward him, an intuitive plea for more.
Dan snarled softly. “My sweet rose…you crave this so much, you don’t even know when you show it.” He ran the shiny leather strands across her chest then up her face. “Look at your nipples, hard as diamonds…and your eyes, so beautiful and alive…I’m certain if I ordered you to part your knees, your pussy would be wet and gleaming, too.” He paused, letting the leather caress the sensitive curves of her neck. “Tell me, rose. Would it be wet?”
She swallowed heavily before rasping, “Yes, Sir. It would be.”
“Good girl.”
His own voice was rough. He didn’t mind exposing it to her. Wanted her to know exactly what kind of power she had over him, in equal measure to his dominance. This night would only be as good as the surrender she was willing to turn over, and right now, her face told him everything. She yearned to give it all.
With a weighted swallow of his own—and new determination to push her into new realms of submission—Dan repositioned his stance in front of her. His cock, already engorged to the point of pain, bellowed at him for the move. As if he hadn’t subjected the thing to enough torment already… But he was a billionaire who’d chosen to serve with the CIA. Under it all, he was as much a masochist as Tess.
“Kneel up,” he instructed softly. She complied by rising off her heels, aligning her face
with his crotch. “Now kiss me, rose.” He wrapped his hand around her head and directed her succulent strawberry lips toward that taut ridge of leather. “Honor the passion of the Dominant you serve tonight, girl.”
She gazed up at him. Released a shuddering breath. Then closed her long lashes over those dark green eyes, and pressed her lips over his leathers.
Christ.
He had to be out of his mind.
Or, God willing, soon would be.
Not. Yet.
“So good,” he praised between the heated pumps of his lungs. “Thank you, rose. That’s so damn good.” He forced himself to cease her worship, setting her back a few inches before sliding the flogger in front of her instead. “Now honor the first instrument of your submission.”
With a sigh that almost made him forget the not yet part, she slid her mouth up and down the flogger’s handle, let the falls drift between her lips. Dan encouraged her with a feral sound that curled up from his balls, echoing through his whole being.
“Enough,” he finally growled. He twisted his hand tighter in her hair to guide her toward the whipping bench. The furniture’s red leather detailing proved itself the perfect match for what he wanted to do to her thighs, her ass, her sex. “Knees up on the pads,” he ordered. “But this, we’ll save for later.” He unbuckled the stockade at the front of the bench and swung it away, letting her settle in, stomach down, over the main support. “Let your head drop, and rest your forearms here and here.” He indicated two separate pads that were lower, near the floor, before drawling with deliberate wickedness, “Comfy?”
“Mmmmm.” She whimpered it as he buckled her into the built-in ankle cuffs, matched by similar restraints for her wrists. “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.”
