by Dubois, Lila
Addie started to slam the door, but he threw his upper body inside. The door rebounded off his shoulder. Lane scrambled to his feet.
Stepped inside.
Closed the door.
“Bad choice of words.” Lane cupped her waist, looming over her. It was the second time he’d invaded her cluttered little home, the second time he’d stripped away her power with nothing more than his presence.
“Don’t tease me,” she warned, pleaded.
“Why?”
“I’m not going to answer that.”
“Then I’ll just tell you that I’ve never felt quite this way when I was with a woman before, either a vanilla relationship or BDSM.”
Twin trickles of happiness and dread wound through Addie at that statement. If she was smart she’d simply accept this, accept whatever he was offering and never tell him…
“Why is it different with me?”
“I don’t know.” His hand on her waist flexed, squeezing her, pulling her closer until her hips brushed the front of his chinos, until she felt his erection there. “But something about you,” he frowned, searching her face as if he’d find the answer there. “Something about you blurs the lines. You submit, but you don’t.”
“You still seem in control to me.” Tension radiated off him, but it was tightly leashed, almost as if he’d been stitched into it.
He simply shook his head.
“I think I want to see you lose control.” Addie slid her palms up his chest, the soft fabric of his t-shirt rumpling under her fingers. “I want to know what you’re like without that armor on.”
“Addie. No.” He caught her wrist, pulled her hands away. “I’m a…big guy. My control is necessary.”
“And the friendly frat-boy routine, is that armor necessary too?” Addie twisted her wrists and his fingers fell away. She had no doubt that if he’d wanted to he could have held her. If he really wanted to stop her.
“That’s, that’s not…” He swallowed, looked away.
Like a wave drawing back out to the ocean, the tide of power was shifting to her. Had no woman ever seen that easygoing charm was as controlled and constructed as his Dom mannerisms?
“That’s not armor? It is. Don’t lie to me, Lane.” Addie’s hands settled on his waist, crumpling the fabric of his shirt until the pads of her fingers touched smooth, bare skin stretched over tight muscle.
His eyebrows were lowered and drawn together over his nose. His eyes seemed black under the shadow of his brow. His free hand settled on the other side of her waist, sliding down to knead her hip as he pressed their pelvises together.
Addie tucked her fingers into the waistband of his pants, thumb toying with the button.
“Tell me what you want,” she whispered, leaning in to breathe the words against his neck.
“I want you.”
“How?”
“Any way. Every way.”
Addie pushed the button through the hole, rubbing the skin she’d exposed before grasping the tab of his zipper. “And what if I told you to leave?” She leaned back just enough to watch him under her lashes.
Lane drew in a breath, his nostrils flared. His eyes were full of fire, the muscles along his jaw and down his neck working. “Don’t.” He wrapped his hand over hers and together they lowered his zipper. Addie pushed his pants down over his ass. He was naked underneath, his cock rigid and hot, so erect it nearly brushed his belly. “Please.”
She felt his eyes on her as she took a step back to examine him. After a long moment Lane hastily shucked his shoes, socks and pants, leaving him naked from the waist down. He was corded in muscles, wrapped in smooth cream skin that darkened to gold on his lower legs. The dark-blond hair around his cock was trimmed short, doing nothing to hide his heavy balls.
Addie touched his thigh, watched the pad of muscle flex as she stroked him with light touches that gradually turned into scratches. When her nails reached the seam of leg and torso, he moaned her name.
Addie caught his gaze with her own, waited until she was sure he was looking at her face before wrapping her hand firmly around the base of his cock.
A shudder racked Lane. He inhaled, closed his eyes.
Addie added her other hand, wrapping it above the first, her thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock.
Lane’s eyes popped open. “I can’t wait. I have to have you.”
Yes.
He pushed her robe open, growling when he saw what she wore underneath. Lane grabbed the neckline of the tank top and yanked. The fragile seams ripped, the fabric falling away to expose her breasts.
“Now I can touch you.” His gaze darted between her breasts and face.
“You touched me before.”
“Not like this.” One hand cupped her left breast, lifting it toward his mouth. Warm lips enveloped the peak, drawing on the tip. Nerve endings down Addie’s back, along her arms and between her legs sparked to life.
With a cry she tightened her hold on his cock, and in response Lane bit her nipple.
His other hand found her shorts, ripping them away. The fabric dug into her ass, between the lips of her sex, as he pulled it free.
Then Lane’s fingers were there, clumsily fondling her sex with none of the precision he’d shown before. His fingers were thick, his touch rough, frantic. Her robe, caught on her arms, fluttered and danced around her legs.
“I can’t wait. I can’t.”
She barely heard him, but in the next breath Lane swept her legs out from under her. For one horrible instant she was falling, all alone and falling, but then he was there, arms around her ass and shoulders, bearing her down to the floor.
Lane pushed her legs apart and knelt between them. He looked like a Viking god—especially when he pulled his shirt off, exposing a well-defined chest and belly.
“Look at me,” he demanded, coming down on top of her. “Hold me.” But now it was a plea.
“Fuck me,” she demanded, looking into his eyes. “Kiss me.”
Addie took a fistful of his hair and pulled his lips down to hers. He ravaged her—nipping her lips and neck, sucking her tongue and pushing his own deep into the well of her mouth.
His free hand grabbed behind her knee, drawing her leg up and to the side, forcing her sex open. He paused for a moment, grabbing a condom from his pants and fumbling it on. She gasped against his neck when she felt the tip of his cock testing the wet slit of her sex.
“I can’t wait.”
“I don’t want you to.”
The tip of his cock slid in, big enough to have her gasping, rethinking her bold words. He was so big, they should go slow…
Lane slid home with one hard thrust. Addie cried out in mingled pleasure and pain. He filled her, completed her, in ways she couldn’t explain.
“I need you.” His breath washed over her neck, stimulating the sensitive nerves there. Addie felt alive and aware, as if she’d been struck by lightning.
“I need you too.” Nothing had ever been more true.
Addie wrapped her legs over his back and Lane hooked his hands under her shoulders. He withdrew and thrust, the movement hard and powerful, jarring both of them, Addie’s back and shoulders sliding across the floor from the power of it.
“I need to fuck you,” he whispered.
Addie nodded.
Lane withdrew and thrust, harder this time, so hard his balls slapped her ass. Again he withdrew and thrust, fast, hard.
He fucked her, there on the floor, with a rough savagery that lacked finesse and control. Lane growled at her when her legs slid down his back, bit her neck and shoulders, groped her breasts and twisted her nipples.
Addie panted and begged, tucking her face into the hollow of Lane’s shoulder so his collarbone wouldn’t knock her jaw as he thrust. She held on to him with her nails, her legs tight around his back, and accepted every inch of his cock as he pounded into her.
Savage satisfaction swept through her in waves. She wondered if it was an orgasm or simply emotional
pleasure that filled her, but she didn’t really care. This pleasure was as different from the pleasure he’d given her the other day as slow, rolling thunder was to a lightning strike. Both had their place, but she was tired of lightning—she wanted thunder.
“Addie, Addie,” he chanted.
“Yes, yes, Lane.”
He jackhammered into her and then, with a guttural cry, collapsed on top of her.
First step, get off her. She probably can’t breathe.
Second step, apologize for being such a newbie.
Third step, don’t actually say newbie, she might realize you’re a geek along with being a crappy vanilla lover.
Lane lifted himself off Addie. His semi-erect cock slid out of her, and that was enough stimulation to have him thinking about round two. Which would never happen.
Lane pulled his knees up and rested his elbows on them, scrubbing his fingers through his hair.
“Addie, I’m really sorry.” He couldn’t bear to face her.
“Why?” A hand stroked his back, following his spine up to the nape of his neck.
“I lost control, I shouldn’t have.”
Addie laughed. Lane could only watch as she pushed her way between his hands and legs, circling her arms around his neck.
“I wanted you to lose control.”
He frowned. “Did you want to be in control? That’s called a switch and it’s something you organize.” The moment hadn’t read like a top jonesing for control, but he was so off center he was lucky he’d remembered how to fuck her.
Addie cupped his cheeks with her palms, tilted his head until their gazes locked.
“I wanted to know that you wanted me so much that you would lose control. I wanted to know that I was more than someone, something to be controlled.” She said it almost shyly, and he realized she wasn’t as sure of herself as she seemed. If she realized she was a one-in-a-million girl, a girl any guy would be lucky to get, never mind that she was a sub any Dom would kill for, she’d run right out the door and find someone better than him. Best not to tell her exactly how amazing she was.
“Of course you are, I told you that.” He pulled Addie to his chest, cuddling her there. He tucked the robe she still wore around her breasts so he wouldn’t get distracted. “I don’t think of you as a ‘something’. I tried to make that clear.”
Her gaze searched his face, looking for something there. “How was I supposed to know if that was real, or just another part of the sub training?”
Lane opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again. “Well…fuck. I’m really sorry. This is complicated enough for me, and I know the rules of both games. I mean, vanilla dating and Dom/sub relationships.”
“What is ‘this’?”
“Um, us. You know, seeing each other.”
“We haven’t actually done anything that would categorize this as ‘seeing each other’.” Addie’s voice was cool, almost disinterested.
“We had vanilla sex.”
“That’s a one-night stand, actually it’s mid-one-night stand.”
“You’re going to teach me to dance.” Panic was building in Lane’s belly.
“Did I actually agree to that?”
“All right, lady.” Lane grabbed Addie by the upper arms and held her away from him so he could look at her. He gave her a little shake to emphasize each point. “You’re going to date me.” Shake. “You’re going to fuck me.” Shake. “You’re also going to be my sub. Technically sub-in-training.” Shake. “Normally I don’t mix those two things up, but with you…” He shook her one final time then released her. “With you I want both.”
Addie nodded slowly, but her face was grave.
“What’s wrong, why aren’t you talking?”
“Lane, I think you’re funny and nice, and your body is—” She trailed off into a spate of Spanish he didn’t catch but she was eyeing his abs. “And yes, I did like being your sub. And that’s part of the problem.”
Addie scooted back so she was no longer touching him and belted her robe closed. “I liked being Emory’s sub too.”
Her fingers were fisted around wads of robe, her head tipped down so he was looking at the crown and the part in her hair. It took Lane a minute to realize that’s what she was upset about.
“Addie, everything I told you before your scene with Emory was true. He’s a good Dom, a good guy. He can give you different experiences, different kinds of pleasure, than I could. I don’t begrudge you that.”
“How can you be so possessive and not care if another man touches me?”
“It’s not that… Fuck, this is hard to explain, and I’m not great with words. It’s like this—a Dom’s priority should always be his sub’s well-being and pleasure.”
“Even if that includes other people?”
“Yes, if the Dom is there to watch over the sub. That’s why I made sure I was there. I wanted to make sure you were okay, to learn what about your time with Emory riled you up the most, and to let you know I was there.”
“And what if I don’t want to be a sub?” Her chin was raised, her eyes met his fearlessly.
She was a beautiful sub, begging to be trained, even if she didn’t know it. Any Dom worth his salt would pick up on it, as Emory had. She’d enjoy her time in bondage, her time submitting. Together they would explore her sexuality, and his own, and find pleasure they couldn’t dream of.
But only if she wanted to.
“If you don’t want to be a submissive then…I won’t ask that of you.”
“Would you still date me?”
“Yes.” He wanted this woman, no matter what.
“When you’re with me you can’t be with other women. You can’t have some slutty submissive on the side. If you’re with me you’re mine.”
Lane wanted to punch the air in triumph. Fucking-A, this woman was perfect. Her hands had curled into claws, as if she would scratch any other woman who tried to touch him. He liked her ferocity.
“Agreed,” he said.
“And I would never be a live-in slave, like that Alton guy wants.”
Alton. There was no way he was letting him touch Addie. First thing in the morning he’d have to go down to C&C. Emory was one thing. Alton was another.
“I don’t want that either. And I don’t want you doing a session with Alton.”
“I have a job contract to fulfill.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
Addie narrowed her eyes. “No, you’re not. I follow through on my commitments.”
Lane grabbed her hands. “I respect that, but I also want to keep introducing you to BDSM without a day of Alton terrorizing you to work around.”
A hint of fear flickered in her eyes. “Terrorizing.”
“Alton has up to five naked slaves cleaning his house on any given day. They consider themselves honored to lick his shoes.”
“Oh.” She paused, toying with her robe. “You’re really not mad that I liked what Emory did?”
“No.”
She stared at him with an intensity that worried him.
“So other people are okay when it’s Dom-time, even fucking them?”
White-hot jealous rage flared in Lane. “You’re not fucking Emory. Ever. No one is fucking you but me.”
The minute the words were out of his mouth he wanted to bite them back. Now he sounded like some Neanderthal boyfriend instead of a Dom. Damn, this is why he tried to keep these things separate.
Strangely, Addie didn’t look mad, she was smiling. “Okay.”
“Ah, good. I mean, maybe I’d invite him for a three-way,” Lane said, trying to save the situation.
Her eyes got big, her mouth forming an O. Well, well, the pretty Adelita liked the idea of a threesome. Lane had to bite back a grin. He added that to his mental to-do list.
He’d take her from the back, with a dildo in her ass as he fucked her pussy while Emory fucked her mouth. This would be after they’d spend hours tormenting her and making her come for them. She’d be so hot
and primed she’d probably come the instant he slid his cock in.
The mental picture had Lane’s cock rising again. From the direction of Addie’s gaze he’d say she’d noticed.
“I owe you an orgasm,” Lane said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him. Addie came willingly.
“No, I came. I think.”
“Not good enough. I want you screaming my name.”
“Ay, you’re arrogant.”
“Bed or on the floor again. You choose.”
“Uh, my bedroom is kind of a mess.”
“I’m going to fuck you from behind so unless you want rug burn on your knees you’ll show me the bedroom.”
Chapter Eight
Lane knocked on the door to Helen’s office.
Alton opened it.
“Alton.”
“Lane.”
Lane looked over Alton’s shoulder at Helen. “Good morning, Helen.”
“Good morning, Lane. I’m in a meeting right now, can I talk to you later?”
“Actually, it’s probably better that I talk to both of you.”
Lane pushed past Alton. He felt the other man’s shock that he’d done it. As one of the strictest and most feared men in L.A.’s BDSM community, Alton wasn’t used to being treated with anything but the utmost respect.
“Is there a problem?” Helen asked, half rising from the chair to accept Lane’s handshake.
“I don’t think so, but I’m worried I may have created one for you.”
Helen settled into her chair. “And what is that?”
“Addie won’t be coming back for her session with Alton.”
Helen raised a brow. She looked to Alton. Lane didn’t look at the other Dom. As far as he was concerned, since Alton had no say in the situation, he just needed to know, not to be consulted.
“Alton wrote part of the book. We need photos to go with it,” Helen said when the silence had stretched.
“You’ll have to find someone else to model.”
“We had enough trouble finding—”
“You’re claiming her.” Alton’s low words cut through Helen’s casual distress.
Lane turned to him. “Yes.”
“If you intend to make her your slave—”
