Decadence After Dark: The Complete Collection (Dark Romance box set) : Owned, Claimed, Ruined, Lie With Me, Elicit (Decadence After Dark )

by M Never

  Monica’s blue eyes widen excitedly, and Alec snarls. “What about Tara and yourself?”

  “I am very serious about having a future with her.”

  “Future,” he spits out as if it’s a dirty word.

  “Yes.” I continually sweep my eyes nervously between him and Monica. “With your blessing I would like to ask her to marry me, eventually.”

  Kayne’s jaw drops. “You’ve got balls, man.”

  I look over at him astonished. “You’re my friend. You’re supposed to be supportive. You didn't even ask for Ellie’s hand, you just took it,” I remind him.

  “I am supportive,” he grumbles.

  “So am I,” Monica beams, but Alec fumes. “What do you mean eventually?”

  “I want to give it some time.” I explain.

  “To make sure she isn’t just another girl slinging coffee, calling you cowboy?” he asks snidely.

  I resent the comment. “Look, I get it. You don’t like me. I get that you hate the fact we are ten years apart and you still see Tara as a child. But she is an adult, we both are. And I am going to ask her to be my wife whether you like it or not. She will never be just some girl slinging coffee to me. She will always be the woman who took me by surprise.”

  “You should totally put that on a Hallmark card,” Kayne quips as Alec leans back in his chair, folds his arms, and glares at me. I’m not backing down this time. I have done everything, been as considerate as I could, but I’ve had it. If he hates me, so be it. I’m never walking away from Tara.

  “You’ve actually got some nads after all,” he says impressed.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I knew there had to be a reason this guy,” he thumbs at Kayne, “hangs around with you.”

  Did I miss something?

  “Soooo, you’re okay with me marrying Tara?” I ask a tad confused.

  “I am now. Now that I know you’ve got some nuts and will stand up for her.”

  I glance over at Monica. She just rolls her eyes and shrugs.

  “Alec.” Kayne slaps him on the shoulder. “You had Juice pegged all wrong. No one would stand up taller for Tara than he would.”

  “You told me, but I needed to see it for myself.”

  “Have you two been in cahoots?” I huff.

  “Just a little.” Alec smiles at me for probably the first time ever.

  I fall back in my chair.

  “Welcome to the family.” Kayne grins like a deranged Cheshire cat.

  “Hey, that’s my line.” Monica gets up and grabs my face in her hands. “We are so happy to have you.” She smiles lovingly, kissing my cheek. She looks so much like Tara; I almost see my future staring back at me.

  “Thank you.”

  “Why do they call you Juice anyway?” Monica asks as she sits back down.

  Kayne chuckles animatedly as I grin stupidly. “One night I made the foolish mistake of showing Kayne and Jett how I can dislocate my jaw and juice an entire orange down my throat.”

  “It was one of the funniest things I have ever seen!” Kayne cracks up, nearly falling back in his chair just as our breakfast is served. It also went along with a whole host of dirty innuendos that I will keep between the three of us.

  “Something else to add to the glowing resume,” Alec adds entertained.

  “Yes, it is.” I laugh at myself.

  “Oh,” Kayne touches Jess’ arm as he looks at his phone. “Can we have two more orders of French toast?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “Ellie and Tara are on their way.” He lets us know.

  Perfect timing.

  Before we even have time to start on our meals, Tara and Ellie come strolling up to the table arm and arm, the two of them laughing, sounding so much alike. I can hardly believe how my heart still races when I see her.

  Tara takes a seat next to me as Ellie makes a beeline straight for her father. She puts her hand on his shoulders and glares down at him. I’ve seen that look many times when she’s about to put Kayne in his place.

  “Daddy,” she says strictly. “Leave CJ and Tara alone.” Everyone at the table looks at her, Alec included, smirking like the devil.

  “Yes, honey.” He patronizes her, and the four of us bust up laughing.

  “Did I miss something?” Tara leans over and asks me.

  “Your parents and I just had a discussion.” I wrap my arm around her. “We’re all good now.”

  “See, sis. All taken care of.” Ellie plops down onto Kayne’s lap and puts her arms around his neck. “We need to talk.”

  He looks into her eyes amorously, tightening his grip. “I already know about what.”

  “I figured,” she replies coquettishly.

  Jess appears at the table with her eyes plastered to my arm around Tara. She curves one side of her mouth up as I hold my breath.

  She just places a cocktail napkin in front of Tara and asks, “What can I get you to drink, love?”

  Love. She couldn’t have picked a more appropriate term of endearment . . .

  Christmas Morning ~ Eighteen Months Later

  I BASK IN THE SOUND of Tara’s whimpering moans.

  She’s tied to the bed, collared, clamped, and blindfolded, begging for release. Her blonde hair fans over the pillow as I hold her hips and slide slowly in and out of her. I keep a leisurely pace, taking my time bringing her higher. I know she needs this. Needs the overabundance of attention. She’s been so busy with rehearsals that we’ve barely seen each other in weeks. My little starlet is making a name for herself, landing a leading role in an off-Broadway play. I couldn’t be prouder, but I’m totally selfish and miss our time together. Not that it’s all her fault; I have my work too, which is just as demanding, but I’ve learned to balance. There’s no such thing as balance in the entertainment industry. It’s demand, demand, demand, with no other option but to give it your all. I always thought it would be my career that would be taxing on a relationship, but I guess I never met a woman who had just as much drive as I do. We’re still navigating the waters, but I know we’ll figure it out.

  Tara moans louder as every move of my hips brings her closer while the clamp wreaks havoc on her body. I smooth my hands over the inside of her thighs and spread her folds so I can see her entire slit, see the inflamed little nub redden against the abrasive teeth of the metal and watch as my cock glistens with her surge of arousal.

  “CJ, please.” She begs so earnestly.

  “Please what, shortcake?” I toy with her.

  “Harder, faster.” She breathes harshly, her muscles tightening around me like a velvet vice.

  “Ask me again.” I push into her deeper.

  “Please!” She gasps, arching her back, the chain pulling tight across her chest. Tara’s pussy contracts and it feels like an electric shock. I fall forward, clenching my jaw, fighting to keep control.

  “Oh, godddd.” She squirms in her restraints, going crazy with lust. “I need you.” She grinds against my cock.

  “You need me? How much?” I heave.

  “So much.” Her voice is a strained whisper.

  I groan into her neck. She knows how much her words turn me on. Tune me up.

  “Who is the only man who touches this body?” I pound into her harder.

  “You.”

  “Who is the only man who kisses this mouth?” I bite her bottom lip.

  “You!”

  “Who is the only man who makes you come?”

  “You! You! Only you!”

  “You going to come for me, baby?” I abuse her body, slamming into her over and over.

  “You’re the only one I come for!” She barely forces out the words as she wails, cracking wide open and drenching my cock.

  I buckle right along with her, grabbing the top of our curved headboard, coming savagely.

  Tara moans unintelligibly, still tethered to the bed, as I rest my head on her chest and recuperate. God this woman, I smile inwardly, is mine, all mine.

  After a few mi
nutes, Tara stirs, emitting an uncomfortable sound. I know what she needs, so I kiss my way down her demolished body and gently release the clamp from her clit, licking it as blood rushes back to the grieving little piece of pink flesh, which tastes best right after she comes. She sighs agonizingly, dropping her knees. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

  “Again?” I ask, flattening my tongue against the sensitive little bundle of nerves her crease has become. “You horny little girl.”

  “It’s your fault,” she accuses me as she moans.

  “I’ll plead guilty on all accounts.” I bury my face between her thighs and concentrate the tip of my tongue directly on her piercing, flicking it relentlessly. Tara’s body pulls taut in her restraints as the pleasure takes over. She lifts her legs, spreading them wide, and rocks against my mouth as I lap her up. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” she chants continually, her breathing choppy until she finally hits a brick wall and ruptures. I sink my tongue into her flooding entrance and savor every drop as she spasms; the juice of her arousal running down my chin.

  Tara’s body gives out once the climax passes, leaving nothing left of her but a demolished wreckage on the bed.

  I wipe my face on the inside of her thigh then climb up her torso.

  “Fuck, baby, that was so hot.” I grab my now straining cock and plunge my tongue into her mouth. She kisses me weakly, tasting herself on my lips.

  “I have to fucking come again,” I tell her as I stroke myself above her restrained, blindfolded body. I jerk hard, taking in her helpless state, her flushed skin, and her pouty lips. I kiss her again as the sensations storm, my tongue ravishing her mouth as I dart to the finish line. I grip my cock as hard as I can and tense, my limbs catching fire as I erupt, ejaculating all over her tits.

  “Fuck.” I pant uncontrollably as I collapse next to Tara. She drops her head to the side and lies there incapacitated.

  I pull the blindfold off, and she smiles at me with tired eyes.

  “Merry Christmas.” She giggles.

  I can’t stop myself from laughing. “One of the merriest I have ever had.”

  I LISTEN TO TARA’S HEELS clink against the hardwood in a hurry.

  “CJ!” She calls to me from the spare bedroom. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.” She comes into the bedroom dressed to the nines in thigh-high boots, black leggings and a red sweater, holding the newest edition of our family. A white teacup Pomeranian named Stowe. As soon as Tara saw him in the window, she just had to have him. And me, being the sucker I am, said okay. We took him home that afternoon.

  “I want to drop Philly’s present off at Jo Jo’s before we head to your parents.”

  “When did you decide this?” I look at her perplexed as I fix my cufflink.

  “About five minutes ago.” She hits me with puppy dog eyes bigger than Stowe’s.

  “Fine,” I relent.

  “Thank you.” She gives me a quick kiss. “I’m going to walk this little guy real fast before we leave.”

  “Good idea. I will not appreciate any accidents in my car.”

  “I wouldn't either, especially if I had to clean them up.” She hurries out of our room.

  “I’ll meet you downstairs!” I call.

  “Okay!” she yells.

  I fix my collar as I count down, still listening to Tara’s footsteps.

  “5–4-3–2-1-”

  And right on cue, the alarm goes off. Blaring around the whole house.

  “CJ!” Tara screeches, and I rush downstairs. She’s trying to punch in the code, but she never gets it right. “Shit, shit.”

  I move her hand away and punch it in myself, silencing the ear-piercing sound.

  “I thought it was off.” She bristles.

  “It was.”

  “I hate all your ‘devices’!” She waves her hand at the keypad.

  “You have to get used to them. They aren’t going anywhere.”

  “I know,” she pouts. “Are you ready?”

  I feel around my jean pockets. “My watch.”

  Tara sighs. “Not surprising.”

  I shrug. No matter how hard I try, I always forget it. “How about I walk Stowe, and you go upstairs and get my watch? That way you don't have to go out in the cold.” I offer an olive branch.

  “Fine.” She hands over the living puffball. “Put his sweater on him.”

  “Not a chance in hell.” I smack her on the ass and send her on her way.

  I watch Tara ascend the stairs then wait several second before I follow her.

  I put Stowe down then creep up silently, coming to stand in the doorway of our bedroom that Tara decorated in all grays and whites. She’s standing like a statue in front of our dresser staring at the little open ring box between my watch and her collar. I take a few steps forward, alerting her I’m there. She looks over at me, her beautiful blue eyes wide and her face flushed. “Is that for me?”

  “It depends.” I pull the diamond ring from the box.

  “On what?” she asks as I take her hand and hold the princess cut stone on the platinum band up to it.

  “Your answer.”

  “What exactly is the question?” She shakes nervously.

  I slide the ring onto the tip of her finger and whisper. “I think you know.”

  “Maybe you should ask anyway, just to make sure we are thinking of the same question.” Her eyes trail the path the ring is taking over her knuckle, and I smirk at her request.

  “Tara Stevens . . . will you be my shortcake? Will you be my starlet and fantasy girl? Will you be the woman who goes to bed with me every night and wakes up next to me every morning?

  “You’re the first woman I’ve ever truly loved, and I want you to be the last who ever truly loves me. So what do you say? Will you be that woman? Will you be my wife?”

  Tara’s hand trembles in mine as she stands there staring silently.

  “Well?” I urge her.

  “Oh!” She snaps out of her stupor. “Yes! Yes, of course, I’ll marry you.” She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes so tightly, she nearly chokes me.

  I breathe a sigh of relief. “You had me worried there for a second, shortcake.”

  “I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m in shock. You told me last week you weren’t ready to get married.”

  “I know. I was trying to throw you off the trail.”

  “It worked.” She sniffles, pulling away to look at me. Happy tears glistening in her eyes. “Would it sound completely corny if I told you that I loved you right now?” She laughs.

  I take her face in my hands, overjoyed. I remember asking her a very similar question the weekend I ambushed her. “I don't think it’s ever corny to say I love you, especially if the person saying it truly means it . . .”

  Continue on to read Elicit

  For Kayne and Jett’s original SS

  I love her and that’s the beginning and end of everything

  ~ F. Scott Fitzgerald

  I’M STARTLED AWAKE BY A shrill cry.

  I glance at the clock glowing in the darkness. 3:17 a.m. The ear-piercing shriek happens again, and London stirs, muttering profanities in her sleepy state. I place my hand on her back.

  “Stay. I’ve got it.”

  No protest. Only a relieved sigh as she rests her head back on the pillow.

  I pad down the hallway, bleary and barefoot, following the source of the disturbance. Flicking on the small, lamb lamp, I meet the culprit’s awake blue eyes and gummy smile. She screams again, in excitement this time, as I approach her.

  “Little girl.” I hoist Shia up out of her crib. “You need to let your mommy rest. We thought your sister was bad, but I believe, my darling, you take the cake.” I sit in the pink and white striped glider with my wiggly six-month-old climbing up my chest. She just wants to be held. Always wants to be held. “You need to start crawling”—I rock with her arms latched around my neck—“so the house can sleep.” I yawn, silently thanking the stars above I’m the only one she woke up.r />
  A tiny giggle and happy feet are her response.

  I stare down at her adorable, chubby face as she stares up. “Eyes just like your mommy with insomnia to match. She never used to sleep, either.” I rock a little harder, whispering to her. “But she wanted you. She wanted you so much.” She chortles as I nuzzle her little neck. “She didn’t think she deserved you. Or me or love or happiness. But I set her straight.” I smile haughtily to myself, recalling the past. Recalling my wife and her strength despite all her struggles. All our struggles.

  Shia fights falling asleep, breathing hard, squirming to stay awake.

  “You’re not going to miss anything, baby,” I hum in her ear, coaxing her to relax. “We’ll all be here in the morning to love you.” I used to tell London the same thing when she couldn’t sleep. Wouldn’t sleep. Downright refused.

  That seems like a lifetime ago, considering she sleeps like the dead now.

  Also my doing.

  I rest my head on the back of the chair and close my eyes, hoping the smooth glide and my steady breathing will soothe the beast.

  No such luck.

  I add a lulling tone. This isn’t the first time I’ve wrestled an alligator. I know the drill.

  “What story shall I tell you tonight? Perhaps the princess one again?” I rock and rub her little butt, littered with cupcakes on the onesie pajamas from Aunt Ellie and Uncle Kayne.

  “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess,” I start. “Who was controlled by an evil sorcerer . . .”

  The Past

  I WISH HE WOULD JUST kill me already.

  I float in a black space of pain as my head is submerged underwater, my lungs burn desperate for air, and my body sodomized. The relentless drill of my Master’s hips and an iron grip on the back of my neck keeps me restrained. I start to unconsciously struggle as the rapid loss of oxygen suffocates me. My limbs spontaneously twitch as I fall away into a terrifying darkness. Please let this be it. Let the suffering end.

  I welcome death. Or at least the tease of it seconds before I completely black out.