She struggled to sit up beside him, arms aching. “Fantasy thing? Aftercare?”
In the gray light from the windows, she watched the expression on his face change. He frowned and for the first time tonight, he looked uneasy.
“You gotta know what Diablo is all about, what I’m all about, Scarlett. Your friend must have told you.”
“She said it was a fun club, that I’d have a good time.”
“So you have no idea what just happened?”
She blushed and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He shifted, rising up on one elbow. “For certain clientele, Diablo’s a fantasy club, for girls who like the whole tie-me-up-and-have-sex thing, but without all the rest of the scene, without the danger. A little something to get you high, a little anonymous bondage. You play like you’ve done this before.”
She stared at Wesley. Nothing he said made sense. “So you do this with other women?”
“I do, yeah.”
With a start, what he said finally registered. “You drugged me? Like Kyle was going to?”
Wesley shrugged. “Well, not like Kyle. With me, you remember everything. With Kyle and whatever he gave you, you’d probably have woken up in an alley somewhere, with a black eye or worse.”
She sat back, clutching the sheet against her body. None of this was real; all of it seemed like a fantasy. But there was no denying what she felt inside, how her body had reacted to Wesley. Drugged or not, she’d enjoyed every damn minute of being tied up, or down, or whatever the hell it was called. It wasn’t fantasy. Not by a long shot.
One of the silk ties lay on the bed. She picked it up, wondering how many other women he’d tied up with this. It slipped through her fingers, and she wound the end of it around her wrist. Her skin was raw from where she’d pulled against the ties, and she suddenly yanked the silk tight around her wrist. There was brief pain, a subtle burning that was quickly gone, but beneath the fleeting pain was a primal urge that took her by completely off guard. She wanted to feel those bonds again, to have Wesley tie her to the bed. And to give herself up to him, to let him do whatever he wanted to her. To feel the pain.
“Most girls don’t stay the night, Scarlett. One and done.” Wesley’s words brought her back to the here and now. She raised her gaze to his. He was looking at her and she thought—maybe hoped—there was an invitation there, in those dark eyes.
“I don’t want to leave.” She held out the silk. “I want this.”
Wesley sat up, reaching for the tie. He caught the end, tugging it. The pain blossomed again on her skin, burning away the last of the confusion in her mind. He looked down at her hand, at the silk wrapped around her wrist. He pulled at it, harder this time.
“You know what you’re asking for, Scarlett?” He lifted his head, a question deeper than his words behind those dark eyes. She knew damn well what that question was.
“Yes.” Her voice was a breathless whisper.
“It’s a different game if you stay. Do you understand?” He tugged at the silk again and she let him take her hand in his.
“Yes.”
He was just inches from her, his gaze locked with hers. The darkness she’d seen in his eyes before was back, but there was something hot burning behind it. Her breath drew up short as he lifted her hand, letting the silk unwind and flutter to the bed, then raised her palm to his lips.
He closed his eyes, his mouth brushing her hand before he slowly moved down to her wrist. With infinite care, he kissed the raw places on her skin, his touch feather-soft, his tongue flicking out to lick at her, tease her.
In the light from the window, he kissed her skin and the pain faded, his lips tickling against her. When his teeth grazed against her flesh, she tensed briefly, but he held her, lips at her wrist, his eyes lifting to hers.
Silently he took her other hand, turning it palm up, kissing the abraded flesh. Scarlett bit her lip, her body suddenly aching for him. But it was different this time. Whatever drug he’d given her at the bar had burned away, and now her mind was crystal clear. Game or no game, she knew what she wanted.
It scared her, whatever this dark thing was that rose up unbidden inside her. Wesley was a stranger, a man who admitted drugging her, who tied her up without a second thought. Who admitted he did this all the time. What the hell was she thinking?
She wasn’t thinking. She was feeling. For the first time in her life, all her insecurities faded. The color of her hair, the size of her thighs, her shape, if she was going to say something stupid. None of it mattered. All that did matter was here, in this bed. All that mattered was Wesley and whatever it was he’d unleashed inside of her.
He lifted his head, leaning forward to kiss her, his tongue dancing along her lips. Scarlett opened her mouth, meeting his tongue with hers, and for the first time that night, wrapped her arms around Wesley and pulled him close.
The kiss deepened and she leaned into him. It was different this time. She wanted him, but there was no confusion, no hazy thoughts. Everything was clear.
His hands rose to her breasts, caressing her again, fingers pulling at her nipples. They rose up on their knees and she arched against Wesley. One hand slid down her back, over the curve of her ass, fingers delving into the cleft. She shuddered as he pressed his body against hers, his fingers digging touching places no one had ever touched before.
He broke away suddenly, pushing her down on the bed. It seemed playful and she wanted to laugh, but the look on his face silenced her. Wesley’s eyes were dark, smoldering, no trace of a smile on his lips. Her heart sped up, her breath going fast and shallow.
“On your knees.”
She didn’t understand, hesitated, and before she had time to think, Wesley reached down, grabbing her around the waist. He was incredibly strong and he twisted her easily, turning her over. She landed on her stomach. Then he was behind her and grabbing her hips, pulling her ass in the air.
“New game, Scarlett. No more questions for me, just obedience from you. If you stay, you do as I say.”
She looked at him over her shoulder, swallowing hard. “Yes.”
Wesley’s lips curved in a small smile. “Good.” He caressed her hips, fingers digging in to her skin. She smiled, arching her back, sliding her knees apart slightly. His smile widened.
“Good girl.” She turned away, rocking back against him, trying to push against his body. But he was too far away. There was a brief flash of frustration inside her. Her body demanded more contact than just his hands on her. She wanted to feel his cock against her ass, the hard press and heat of his body against her.
The sudden slap of his hand on her ass stung. She drew in a breath, too shocked to even cry out. The pain was sharp, stinging. She looked back at him in shock as he began caressing the spot he’d slapped.
“I said it was a new game.” As he spoke, the pain changed in a subtle way, spread out across her skin, sinking deeper, getting hotter the longer he rubbed her skin. “Turn your head. No watching.”
Scarlett held his gaze a moment longer and then turned her face away from him. His hands stayed on her hips, slowly caressing her. She tensed, waiting for the next slap, but it didn’t come. She started to relax a little as his hands moved over her, the pain fading to a bearable warmth. It was sensual, erotic, rekindling the fire inside her.
She cried out when he slapped her again, this time his hand hitting her in a different spot. And just like before he immediately caressed her skin, soothing the stinging pain. She started to look at him, but he pushed against her shoulder, forcing her head down onto the pillow. For an instant, she felt his erection brushing against her skin of her hip.
“No peeking.” His voice was low, hard. She raised her head from the pillow, resting on her elbows, and it took all of her willpower not to turn around.
The caressing continued, his fingers working over her ass, down her hips, sliding around to the front of her thighs. It took only a few minutes of his touch to have h
er moaning and arching her back, aching for his hands to move just a little further between her legs. But something in his touch kept her silent, kept her from asking for what she wanted.
The third slap echoed through her, harder this time, the pain sharper. She knew to expect his soothing caress, but she was totally unprepared for the next slap, or the ones after that. He set up a rhythm, each slap followed by his fingers working over her skin, but only briefly.
Fire shot through her, intense heat building up as the pain sank deeper into her, moved between her legs. It was all she could do not to scream with pleasure. She clutched the pillow, muffling her sounds into it.
Behind her she could hear Wesley’s breath rasping from this throat, hard and fast, over the sound of his hand hitting her flesh. The sound he made fueled her even more. She tried to imagine him kneeling behind her, what they’d look like. She risked turning her head to her side and saw their reflection in the window.
His fingers dug into her ass, his cock rising up thick and hard. His head was down as he slapped her again and again. With each crack of his hand he flexed his hips, his cock thrusting forward in the space between them. That image, the two of them on the bed, her body bent before him, his arousal and the obvious pleasure he took in what he was doing to her, was the most incredibly erotic thing she’d ever seen.
There was no warning when she came. She bucked and twisted, crying out, her hips jerking uncontrollably, Wesley’s fingers buried into her flesh. As she reached the peak of her orgasm, he was there, driving himself into her, thrusting hard and fast.
Her cries turned to screams and she did nothing to hold them back. Wesley grunted behind her, fucking her deeper, harder than she thought possible. Each thrust triggered a new wave of ecstasy and she kept coming, her body taking on a life of its own, beyond anything she could control.
Wesley’s thrusts grew erratic, and he cried out as he rammed into her. With a final desperate sound he buried himself fully inside her, the throbbing of his cock intensifying as he came.
There seemed to be no end to his orgasm, or hers. Her body jerked and shuddered beneath him, his pulsing cock sheathed inside her, grinding his hips against the hot tender skin of her ass.
He was still inside her when he fell across her, pinning her to the mattress. His chest was slick with sweat and he was heavy, almost crushing her, but she didn’t move. His breath teased the hair on the back of her neck, sending a little shiver over her skin.
After a long time, he rolled away from her and she felt as if she was going to float off the bed. Her body was weightless, not in the same drugged way she’d been before, but on a euphoric high like nothing she’d ever felt.
She slowly turned on her side, watching his face in the dark. He lay with one arm thrown over his eyes, chest rising more slowly now. Slowly she reached out, resting one hand on his chest. Without looking at her, he took her hand in his.
“Did you like the new game?” His voice was soft and low.
“I did. Very much.”
He squeezed her hand and then pulled his arm away from his face, turning to look at her. She could see his eyes shining in the dark.
“You’re not like the rest, Scarlett.”
She shrugged. “I guess not.” She wasn’t even sure who she was at the moment, much less if she was like anyone else.
He raised her hand and kissed the palm. “I like that.” His lips trailed down briefly to the raw skin on her wrists before he put her hand back on his chest.
In the dim light from the window, she saw one of the red silk ties lying between them on the rumpled sheet. She pulled her hand away from Wesley and sat up, picking up the tie. She wordlessly held out the tie, and he frowned.
“What do you want, Scarlett?”
“Will you tie me up again?”
He took the tie, his face relaxing. “We can play again some other time, Scarlett. Believe it or not, you wore me out. It’s time for sleep.”
She shook her head. “No. I mean now, while I sleep.” There was no rational reason why she wanted this, other than she longed to feel the silk around her wrists again, to be under Wesley’s control, even if it was just an illusion when she slept.
Wesley sat up, holding the silk in his hands, looking down at it as if weighing it. Finally he looked up at her. “Lie down.”
She lay at the edge of the bed, her back to him. He leaned across her, looping the tie around the bed frame and then tying her wrists with the ends of the silk. She gave an experimental tug. The bonds were loose enough that she could have pulled out of them if she’d wanted. But she didn’t.
Wesley lay back down, curling himself against her. She felt the sheet pulled up over her body and then his hand sliding over her waist. The last thing she wanted was to sleep; she wanted to stay awake, to feel his hands on her, the heat of him pressed against her back. But as hard as she tried, she couldn’t stay awake. She drifted off, bound hands tucked beneath her head.
Chapter Four
Something tickled her ear, and she shrugged her shoulder. But the sensation continued and she raised one arm. Or she tried to. She opened her eyes.
Her hands were still tied to the bed, the red silk wrapped around her wrists. For a second she was confused and she blinked in the morning light, but then it all came back to her. She was still in Wesley’s bed, still tied to the bedframe.
“Morning, Scarlett.”
She looked over her shoulder. Wesley was behind her, propped up on one elbow, looking disheveled and sexier than anyone had a right to look in the morning. For a fleeting moment Scarlett wanted to pull the sheet over her head, or at least disappear into the bathroom, and check the damage to her hair and wipe the ruined makeup off her face.
“Morning.”
“Do you want me to untie you?”
She hesitated. “I want to use the bathroom.”
He smiled and reached over her head, tugging on the silk. “You know, you could have undone these yourself.”
“I’m not sure I wanted to.” Once free, she sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, looking at him over her shoulder. The morning light caught the bemused look on his face. “I’ll be right back.”
“I hope so.” He leaned back, hands behind his head. “Down the hall, second door. I’ll be waiting right here.”
Scarlett closed the bathroom door and leaned against it. What the hell was she doing here, with a guy who’d admitted to drugging her? And then tied her up?
But after he tied her up, he’d done something to her. Something she didn’t understand.
Pushing away from the door, she surveyed her face in the mirror. Gina’s make-up was a mess, her hair tangled. Running the water, she ran damp fingers through the knots, combing out the worst of the tangles, and then washed her face.
When she was finished, she looked for a long time at her reflection. What the hell had Wesley done to her? She looked the same, but something had definitely changed.
Wesley was sitting up in bed, the red silk tie in his hands, running it through his fingers. He looked up as she came in and smiled, dimples flashing. The sheet was flung back on her side of the bed and it had slid down Wesley’s torso, resting across his lap.
“Coming back?” He let the silk fall onto her pillow, shifting his body, one long leg sliding from beneath the sheet. Scarlett’s mouth went dry, her heart skipping a beat. Whatever he’d done to her last night was still affecting her, and she was pretty sure it wasn’t the drugs anymore that had her heart thumping and her breathing going all funny.
She climbed back into bed, lying down beside Wesley, pulling the sheet over herself. Wesley reached out, sliding it down her shoulder to her waist.
“I want to look at you in the light.”
Scarlett’s cheeks went hot. No one had looked at her with such frank interest, especially in the daylight.
“Why?”
“Why not? You’re beautiful.” She wanted to look away, but there seemed to be a challenge in his eyes to hold his gaze.
“But I think you need to tell me the truth.” His voice was steady, but his look had gone cold around the edges. She frowned, glancing down at the space between them.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“I mean, this isn’t you. This whole bondage thing, the spanking. You had no idea what I was going to do to you, what Diablo was all about. Do you remember that conversation?”
She tugged at the edge of the sheet, folding it between her fingers. “I remember it. You told me last night what you do.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “That you drug girls and then tie them up, because they want you to. It’s all a fantasy.”
“That’s the thing, Scarlett. They want me to, before they even get to the club. But you…you seemed to end up here for a different reason, almost by accident.” He placed a finger under her chin, lifting her face to his. “Like I said last night, most girls are one and done, out the door as soon as the ties are off. So, what gives? Why are you still here?”
“I don’t know.” She looked at him through lowered lashes, wishing it all made sense to her so she could make him understand.
“Scarlett, all I ask is the truth. I’ve been honest with you once I figured out you had no idea what was going on.”
“I am telling you the truth.”
Wesley frowned. “So you’ve never played before? Done any bondage? Any role playing?”
She shook her head. “No. You’ve got to believe me, this was all new to me, and that’s the truth. I can’t explain something I don’t really understand myself.”
“But you liked it? It gave you pleasure, made you like the sex more?”
Scarlett squirmed under his gaze. “You’re making me uncomfortable, Wesley.”
She was surprised by his laugh. He held up one hand, shaking his head.
“You’re okay with being tied up, but talking about it makes you uncomfortable.” He shrugged, still smiling. “I guess that’s par for the course with most people.” He slid down in the bed beside her. She was conscious of how close his body was to hers, his face only inches away.
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