by Linnea May
I try to speak up, to share my crazy wish, but my throat is dry and sore from all the crying. It’s as if I’ve been robbed of my voice for real, as if some higher power decided I was no longer allowed to speak.
All I can do is hollow my back and grant him more leeway by spreading my legs a little more.
He must see it. He must understand what I need right now.
“On your knees.”
I obey without hesitation, supporting myself on my elbows as I push myself up from the mattress, bending my shaky legs until I’m resting on my elbows and knees, my tormented ass up in the air.
“Fuck, Lila, what are you doing to me?”
My heart jolts at his coarse voice, relishing the deep and honest need that resonates in it. He sounds just as mad as I am, just as hungry, just as greedy to feel me.
He moves quickly, situating himself behind me with urgent speed. His hands find a place to hold on to without pinching the skin he broke with the flogger, digging into my side while he guides his length where I need it urgently.
“Remember, you asked for this.”
The push that follows his warning is everything I could ask for. He’s no longer gentle, not cautious. There’s nothing delicate about the way he shoves forward, stretching me with his entire length from the start. He holds on to my sides, pulling me toward him while he moves his hips. My ass is pressed against his pelvis, just like I imagined, but instead of burning cries of agony, there’s just a warm throbbing, spreading and moving throughout my core.
It doesn’t hurt. On the contrary, it’s exhilarating. Better than the heaven I just left.
I find myself leaning backward, into him, begging for more of this without using my voice. Of course, this is more than what he needs to understand my craving. He starts moving, rocking back and forth and taking me with him. My head falls forward as my eyes close, savoring every moment as he fills me with his enormous hardness. Every thrust brings me closer to a peak that I trust to be even better than the ecstasy I experienced earlier. Even with everything that’s happened since, I still remember what it felt like to climax with him inside me.
That’s why I don’t want to wait. I don’t hold back, taking everything he’s willing to give, holding on to every little spark of control he’s willing to hand over to me.
Still, I’m surprised when it overcomes me. My orgasm doesn’t come with a loud fanfare, doesn’t hit me like a sudden explosion. It comes in waves, like it always does, but these swells are calmer, more patient and with a might that’s new to me. I groan, returning to my feral self as I float along with them, accepting every single blissful kiss.
We’re moving slower than before, but there’s still fire in everything we do, a burning passion that finds its voice in the hot ache on my skin as he collides with my ass, and the even hotter sparks that illuminate my entire body and soul while I ride my orgasmic high. I know he’s joining me by the way he lingers as he pushes forward, adding one, two more especially deep thrusts as his groans blend with mine, creating a chorus that can only begin to describe the paradise we’ve discovered.
Together.
Chapter 23
Kade
Watching innocent little Lila fall apart under my command is beautiful and mesmerizing in its very own way. She’s breaking sooner and with more grace than I expected, willingly submitting to the pain and to the whip that causes it.
I watched her struggle, tensing and growing stiff and strained when we first started, grimacing as she fought the impact of the flogger on her dainty body. I took my time with her, keeping it slow and bearable for as long as possible but without risking boredom. If my strikes had been any weaker, she would’ve drifted away, eagerly following any thoughts as they popped up and never going where I wanted her to. I needed to keep her on her toes, quite literally. I needed her to accept what I was offering.
And she did it with such dazzling allure.
I saw the change on her face first, then on her body. Her muscles relaxed and she no longer simply endured what I was doing to her, but instead started to feast on the exceptional delight that comes to those who wait, those who are open to receive it and ready to accept the challenge it presents.
She went there, her face losing all focus and her tension ebbing while her backside started to bloom a dark red. The last few blows I landed drew blood, something I’d never planned on doing. But I allowed it to happen because I knew she could take it.
Lila proved to be more than worthy.
She was soaked after I freed her from the cross, covered in sweat and tiny pearls of blood on her backside, and—most importantly—dripping between her legs.
I made that happen, just like the exclamations she let out when she came on my cock, almost losing consciousness again. She lost herself in me, and that’s the greatest gift a man like me could ask for.
But as appealing as it is to watch her break under me, it’s even more satisfying to build her back together.
She’s lying on her side, eyes closed and lines of smeared makeup adorning her face. Her breathing is so calm and relaxed that I wonder whether she might’ve fallen asleep. But then she opens her eyes, her gaze seeking mine as I rest next to her, leaning on my elbow as I watch her come down from her high.
“Thank you, sir,” she whispers, finding the perfect words in a perfect moment.
I smile at her. “I never told you to say that.”
She turns back into her coy self, a sheepish smile dancing on her face when she replies, “No, but it feels right to thank you.”
“Why? What for?”
“For everything. For all of this. I mean… I know you don’t like to be referred to as an adventure—”
“Experiment is the word I used. I don’t like to be an experiment for you.”
“Right, that,” she acknowledges, nodding. “And you’re not. Truth is, I’m struggling to find the right word for this. I mean, I don’t know what we are, what this is, but it’s clearly… special.”
She bites her lip as if to stop herself from speaking, her eyes darting back and forth between me and the mattress below.
“I’m sorry. I’m just blabbering. Please don’t think I’m making more of this than it really is. I’m just processing, thinking out loud.”
“You don’t have to be sorry, Lila,” I assure her. “I know what this is.”
She looks alarmed. “You know? Because you’ve seen it before?”
That would be the truth. She’s not the first inexperienced girl I’ve been allowed to break, even though it’s been a long time since I’ve had the pleasure.
I nod, giving her the honest response she deserves.
“Yeah, of course you have. There must’ve been many before me,” she says, sounding hurt even though she’s still smiling. “I guess I’m lucky to have met someone like you, someone with so much experience.”
I can tell she wants to say more, that she wants to share what’s going on inside her head, to let me in on her thoughts and feelings regarding all of this. But she remains silent, restoring distance between us, because that’s what we agreed on.
It’s true that I’ve had unversed and innocent girls like her before. But even then, it never felt like this—so right, so compatible. She’s so responsive to everything I have to offer, so quick to learn and so willing to push herself, more than anyone I’ve ever met. Her strength is coupled with a bright and curious mind, reflecting everything she experiences, everything she feels, and she’s only afraid to share it with me because she thinks it would cross a line and create an intimacy between us that we precluded from the beginning.
I should be glad about that. It shows she remembers her place, that she knows I’m not the man who will give her the same happiness she witnessed when her sister got married. It seems she’s smart enough to not even consider the possibility. I like that about her.
But it also bothers the fuck out of me.
I’m used to whisking them away, to keep a girl at a distance once she�
�s overwhelmed with emotions that have no place for the kind of play I’m looking for. This dance has always been part of the game, reinforcing the power structure between me and the girl.
Lila is denying me that supremacy by stopping the dance before it even begins—and I hate how much that’s bothering me.
She closes her eyes again, taking a deep breath as she sinks deeper into the mattress. My eyes are glued to her, observing the peaceful expression on her face, relishing the pride that fills me at knowing I put her in that place.
No one’s ever showed this level of selfless gratitude to what I have to offer. No one’s ever appreciated me like she seems to.
It’s hard to ignore that.
Chapter 24
Kade
My brother doesn’t give up easily; I have to give him that. He and that Damon guy. I’ve been so busy, my mind jumping back and forth between yet another idea to advance e-commerce technologies for existing online stores and my exploration with Lila, that I almost forgot about the invitation I received earlier this week.
It was another dinner invitation, but this one was more formal than the previous one, and it didn’t come from my brother. The sender was one Damon Graves and his new wife, Elene, and it was directed to me personally. I called my brother right away, confirming my suspicion that he was also invited and this dinner was to serve as another opportunity to talk me into something I’d already said no to.
A no that wasn’t taken seriously by either my brother or Damon.
A no that stood on shaky ground and could still be turned into a yes.
I hate how well my brother knows me. I’ve been fighting my whole life to distance myself from my family and the things they deem desirable. As the second son, I was never considered to take over my father’s business, so I was never groomed in the way my brother was. I have to admit, it bothered me during the years when I switched from childhood to adolescence, watching my father spend so much time and focus on his firstborn while neglecting me almost as much as my always-absent mother did. I didn’t deserve their attention as much as Greg did, and I only received it when I acted up in a way that called for action from their side.
They started to treat me like the bad seed of the family, a defiant rebel, the kind every family of good standing seems to have. But at least they finally saw me.
I’m not sure if I still am that kind of person, that angry boy who messes up just to get his parents’ attention. Do I still fit that image, even after all the success I’ve had? My decision to spend my trust fund on traveling and partying through Europe right after high school might’ve been the last truly rebellious act I had in me.
Maybe that’s why I thought it so odd to hear the word from her. Lila might’ve had other reasons to call me a rebel, but she unwittingly hit a sore spot with that choice of word. She saw something in me that I myself may no longer pick up on. And her attentive perception is getting to me just as much as the pictures she sent me the day after I tied her to the St. Andrews Cross at The Velvet Rooms. I told her I’d want to see proof of how much she loved our little session, and she reciprocated like the perfect good girl I knew she could be. She sent me pictures of her bruises from all angles, her hiked skirt revealing she wasn’t wearing any underwear while at work.
She’s such a naughty lure, knowing all too well how to please a mind like mine. The vision of her is haunting me even now, when my head should be entirely elsewhere.
As if tonight wasn’t going to be tough enough already.
The urge to say no to my brother and Damon was more of a reflex than an actual response to their consideration. I’m so used to saying no to my family that I felt inclined to do it, even though the idea sounds intriguing. It was true when I told Greg that I’m not like him, that I don’t crave the same things and chase the same business-related dreams.
But I can no longer deny that I inherited a very specific business sense that, while different to my brother’s training and skills, is no less promising. In fact, we could complement each other very well.
I just need to be ready to admit that, to consider their proposal and make an informed decision about it instead of acting on impulse.
But for that, I need to know more. And I need to gain a better grip of Damon Graves and his role in all of this.
That’s why it only makes sense to show up when I’m asked to dinner at his house. I know what tonight is about, and I’m ready to face it.
I’m the last to arrive and don’t fail to notice the triumphant smile my brother sports when I step through the door, joining him and the Graves couple in the seating area next to the dining room. It’s the first time I’ve seen Lila’s sister since the wedding, and as soon as I lay eyes on her, a shower of cold apprehension runs down my spine.
Did Lila ever tell her about us? She mentioned that Elene used to work at The Velvet Rooms and has a past as an escort. Plus, they’re sisters, and possibly rather close. If there was anyone Lila would talk to about the things we’ve done, wouldn’t it be her sister?
I’m so stunned by my sudden worry that it requires all my focus to rattle off the obligatory greeting as I walk through the room shaking everyone’s hand one after another. There’s no clue on Elene Graves’s face that would tell me anything about her state of knowledge. If her sister’s told her anything, she’s very good at hiding it.
“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Armitage,” she says, as if we’ve ever exchanged more than a single sentence. I only walked up to her and her husband at the wedding for a few minutes, congratulating them, as I was instructed to do, and enduring a handful of sentences of painfully boring small talk with Damon before I secluded myself—and felt up her drunk sister a few minutes later, something she may or may not know about.
I try to read it in the way she looks at me. Is there anything hiding behind that smile? Does understanding sparkle behind those eyes that are just as bright as her sister’s?
But as much as I try, I can’t see anything. It shouldn’t surprise me that a former escort is good at hiding things and pretending she knows nothing despite being very well informed.
As the evening progresses, I notice the young Mrs. Graves is quite anxious to portray the perfect high-society wife. Every sentence she utters, every look, every motion seems well rehearsed and somewhat unnatural, showing a woman who’s still learning to adapt to a life that must be very different to the one she had before marrying her patron.
I wonder of Greg knows about their story, and whether he’d care if he did. He probably doesn’t. It’s odd to think that the only person at tonight’s table who isn’t involved in our potential business deal is also the one who has the highest level of knowledge regarding the kinky ventures that color the lives of so many involved.
“I’m glad you’re showing interest in our proposition,” my brother says as our dishes are cleared, bringing the conversation back to business as soon as the unwritten rules of dinner invitations allow for it. “We’re ready to answer every question you may have for us.”
“And we might have some of our own,” Damon interjects, casting me a somewhat dark look. He’s sitting to my left, his wife to my right, obviously sharing her sister’s love for white wine, as she’s about to finish her second glass. She’s clearly tense and nervous, more so than I would expect from a dinner hostess who didn’t even cook herself. I can’t help but wonder if it has anything to do with me, or with me and her sister. Not knowing drives me insane, and I wish I could just straight-out ask her. But every time our eyes meet, there’s nothing but tense emptiness in hers, nothing that would tell me anything that could give me a hint of some sort.
Damon must notice my gaze lingering on his wife, as he clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. I turn back in a nonchalant motion, throwing him an unfazed look to let him know he has nothing to fucking worry about. It makes sense for him to suspect dishonest intentions in a man’s attention to his woman, especially if he’s cast from the same mold as I am. He’s protecti
ve of her, more so than a regular husband would be—because he’s not only her husband, he’s also her Dom, I’m sure. We recognize our kind when we see it, just like we can sense on a woman that she’s hiding a submissive side deep within.
I wonder what it would be like to sit at a table with Lila like this. To be out in public with her, show her off as mine in a regular, almost innocent way.
I never made outings part of the deal when acquiring a new girl to play with, but with her, I might make an exception.
After all, it’s my game, my rules. I can do whatever the fuck I want with her, and if that includes sitting at a dinner table like these preposterous newlyweds, so be it.
Besides, I’m sure I can find a way to tailor an evening like that in a fashion that’ll make it anything but conventional.
Chapter 25
Lila
A box with a red ribbon awaited me at my front door when I came home from work. A card attached to the box stated nothing but my first name, which means he didn’t send it but must’ve brought it himself—or had someone do it for him. I took the box upstairs with a silly smile on my face and a heart that was doing somersaults in anticipation.
Still, when I got to my apartment, it took me a few moments to gather the courage to open it. My hands were shaking when I slowly unlaced the ribbon, carefully placing it next to the box before I lifted the lid.
Inside, I found a little note that simply said Wear this tonight. If you dare.
A piece of red velvet fabric was wadded up underneath the note, hiding something that made my heart skip.
A collar.
Made of stainless steel, less than half an inch wide and with a little ring attached at the front and a lock at the back. I was careful when I picked it up, holding the collar to my face as if it’s the most valuable thing I’ve ever touched.
He wants me to wear this. For him. What does that mean? Did something change? Did he decide we’re taking our relationship to the next level?
