Forever Wicked: A Wicked Lovers Novella (1001 Dark Nights)

by Shayla Black

  More eager than he wanted to be, Jason paid the women and tipped them amply before he tossed together a dinner tray, added a chilled bottle of wine, and headed up to find his bride.

  His heart raced as he reached the closed door. “Gia?”

  “Yes.”

  She didn’t sound at all happy. He’d given her more than one opportunity to leave, but she’d taken the mercenary path. He refused to feel sorry for her.

  Balancing everything in one hand, he turned the knob and opened the door. As soon as he saw her, he nearly dropped the tray. She looked like his fantasies—only better. Her hair hung in loose waves. One of the women had done something that made her skin glow under the lights. Even her toenails shimmered. When he’d bought the miniscule scrap of lace she now wore, he’d imagined how she would look in it and gotten hard as hell. But seeing her in person? Damn. He could picture her spread out across his sheets, her gaze on him, her arms open as he ripped her thong away to expose her smooth, pouting pussy. The “fuck me” shoes made him want to do exactly that. Jason nearly growled with need. But he’d enjoy the sex more if Gia felt half as eager as he did…and if she’d lie to him and say she loved him, like she used to.

  Patience.

  If Gia wanted a divorce and she wanted to be paid for her freedom, he planned to make her earn every penny of it first. And if he was very lucky, maybe he’d figure out how to get enough of her and move on.

  He set the tray on the dresser, still looking her over. “Beautiful.”

  She cast her gaze down submissively. Either that or she couldn’t bear to look at him. “Thank you.”

  “I brought us some dinner.” He poured the wine, and she took the glass, her expression somewhat guarded. “To…new endings.”

  Her face closed up entirely. “Hopefully, a quick one.”

  Jason made a noncommittal sound, repressing his urge to get her naked and flat before he put his stamp on her, hold her in his thrall the way she’d done him. Instead, he forced himself to wait. Gia gulped half her glass as if she needed the liquid courage.

  Trying not to grit his teeth, he lifted the lid on the dishes, then pointed at the bed. “Sit.”

  Slowly, she sat back against a stack of fluffy white pillows and took the plate. “Thank you.”

  Their gazes met before hers skittered away.

  Holding in a curse, Jason gave her a fork. When she grabbed the far end, refusing to even brush his fingers, his lips tightened. If she had a new aversion to touching him, he’d quickly put a stop to it.

  Plate in hand, he sat back on the bed against the grouping of pillows, leaning against the headboard beside her. Digging his fork into his rice, he did his best to focus on the food and act as if nothing happening between them bothered him in the least.

  “So, you’ve been dealing with your family. Tell me about the progress you’ve made in bringing your brother’s killer to justice.”

  Gia tensed. “There hasn’t been any. My brother’s former partner initially pointed the finger at a thug named Ricky Wayman. A few days later, he recanted and claimed he wasn’t sure, but I know better. Patrick was either scared off or paid off. The day before my brother died, he told my dad that he knew Ricky had something big going down and he intended to stop it. Tony died on Ricky’s turf, so I know damn well who shot my brother.”

  “No one has arrested Wayman?”

  “They haven’t even brought him in for questioning.” And that obviously infuriated her.

  “Don’t the police usually go all out to hunt down a cop killer?”

  Something cynical and mad as hell twisted her delicate features. “Usually, yeah. Wayman’s got a sick rep and a lot of firepower.” Fingers gripping her plate until her knuckles turned white, she drew in an angry breath. “I think the brass is already convinced it’s an unwinnable war and it would cost too many lives to bring this one punk to justice. He takes out a lot of other criminals, so…”

  “They let him slide.” Jason turned her words over in his head, angry on her behalf. Not only did someone as principled as Gia want the badges she worked with to do their jobs and put criminals behind bars, she expected it. She’d been disillusioned by their failure to act.

  “Totally,” she confirmed, no longer eating.

  Jason knew damn well how his wife had been spending her time this past year. Since she hadn’t gotten the help she needed from her fellow officers, she’d refused to give up on justice for her brother. “So you’ve spent all your free time tracking Wayman down yourself and trying to prove his guilt, even after I had you put behind a desk.” He sent her a speculative stare. “Your parents don’t know, do they?”

  With a roll of her eyes, she admitted, “My dad tried to make me promise that I wouldn’t go after Wayman alone, but my mom is so grief stricken. I have to try and give her whatever comfort I can. That killer behind bars would help.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, Jason tried to pull back on his anger. Gia’s sense of good and right wouldn’t allow her to sit this manhunt out. Funny how the determination and rectitude that had drawn him to her had become the very things he wanted to throttle her for.

  “I understand.”

  Gia hesitated. “You do?”

  “It’s hard to see people you care for in pain, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “Excruciating.”

  Jason couldn’t agree more, and though logic told him that her circumstances shouldn’t matter, he couldn’t ignore her anguish. “Eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

  She exhaled and seemed to deflate altogether. “I’m not hungry.”

  “That isn’t a request.” He sent her a stern glare.

  “Of course it isn’t. And people always obey you.”

  “Generally, yes. I won’t apologize for it, especially when it’s for your well-being.”

  And Jason refused to say another word until she’d consumed at least half of the food on her plate, even giving him a low moan at the tastiness of the bread.

  When they’d finished, he took her plate and padded downstairs, leaving the dishes in the sink. His maid would be in come morning to take care of the mess.

  He pulled the refrigerator open and lifted one large crystal cup, then grabbed a single spoon from the drawer and headed back upstairs, mentally weighing the evening’s events.

  As he made his way to the bedroom again, he was unpleasantly surprised to find Gia no longer in his bed. After setting the items he held aside, he visually swept the room and sighed in relief. She stood at the window and stared out, looking at the sky lit night and the urban sprawl giving way to suburbia farther north. His wife might be physically in the room with him, but she was really a million miles away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She jerked back to attention and shook her head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  As she turned to face him, her expression looked neutral, all traces of whatever or whomever she’d been thinking about gone. He held in a snarl of frustration.

  “Sit for me.”

  Dragging her feet, Gia did as he bid, stopping at the edge of the bed. “Naked, I presume? Now that you’ve done your Domly duty and seen to my needs, you’re intending to see to yours, right? Is this the part of the evening where you nail me into the mattress?”

  Jason felt his ire rise. Then he caught onto her game. “Trying to make me feel guilty for this arrangement will neither anger nor upset me enough to halt it. I made you an offer. You accepted. End of story.”

  She gave him a little huff. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this.”

  To hear her admit that she had no idea why he might want to spend time with her bugged the hell out of him. It also told him that she’d given up on them already. Somewhere in the back of his head, he’d known that, but it bothered him all the same. “I have my reasons and I’m not obligated to share them. You’re my submissive for now—”

  “Oh, just say it. I’m your whore and you’re getting off on exercising your control over me.”


  Jason froze. It took everything inside him not to rise to her bait. “If that’s how you choose to see the situation, I can’t stop you. I merely asked you to sit on the bed. I’m still waiting.”

  “Fine.” She tossed herself onto the mattress and sat against the pillows, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Thank you. Now hold your arms up at your sides.”

  Her dark eyes flashed suspiciously. She narrowed them as if trying to guess his intent. Finally, she complied, holding them straight out from her shoulders, almost as if opening her arms to him…but not quite.

  Jason reached behind his headboard and plucked at a padded wrist cuff, attached to an adjustable chain, then secured it around his wife’s wrist.

  Gasping, she drilled him with a shocked stare. “What the hell?”

  “We are now sceneing. What should you call me?”

  “What the hell, Mr. Denning?” she snarled, jerking her free arm down to her side.

  He grabbed it again and brought it to the other cuff. Gia fought him, and Jason dug deep for patience. “Give me your wrist or use your safe word. It’s divorce.”

  “You’re being a bastard, Mr. Denning.”

  “Well, we can’t all be angels like you. Since opposites attract...” He gave her a tight smile. “In case you’re wondering, I’m not offended. Much meaner people have called me names far worse. Are you saying your safe word or giving yourself over to me?”

  The fight left Gia. She lifted her hand to him.

  “Just to be clear, you’re choosing to give your power to me, yes?”

  “Yes.” She gritted her teeth. “Mr. Denning.”

  Even though she’d given him the green light grudgingly, satisfaction still rolled through him. For the first time in nearly a year, he would finally have the gratification he’d craved—and he intended to take it. “Excellent.”

  Wrapping his fingers around her forearm, he aligned her wrist with the cuff and snapped it in place. Now she was beautifully at his mercy.

  “Are you uncomfortable physically in any way?” he demanded.

  “No.”

  “Do you have anything you want to say before we get started?”

  “No.”

  “And your safe word is…” he quizzed.

  “Divorce.” Gia sounded as if she worked hard to shove down her anger.

  It couldn’t be greater than his own, and he’d get to the bottom of hers when she felt more amenable to conversation. For now, he had something else in mind to remind her once and for all of the way a Dom/sub relationship worked.

  “Good.” He reached into his nightstand and pulled out a sleep mask. It worked wonders when he needed shut-eye on bright Texas mornings…or when surly little subs needed an attitude adjustment.

  When he lifted the mask to her eyes and fitted the Velcro strip behind her head, she gasped. “Jason, no.”

  “Excuse me?” He injected sharp rebuke into his voice.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Denning…”

  Now she sounded breathy and afraid, and he backed down immediately. Cradling her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to her ear. “I’m going to take care of you.”

  She sucked in a shaky gulp of air. He could almost hear her mentally reviewing the months they’d spent as Master and slave, remembering all the ways he’d seen to her well-being then.

  And slowly, her frozen muscles melted a bit. “Thank you.”

  So she hadn’t forgotten the manners he’d taught her when playing with him. He smiled.

  As he rose from the bed, Jason stepped back to admire Gia all spread out like a sacrifice, arms wide, innocent lace barely hiding her nipples and pussy from him, eyes covered and breath held, awaiting his pleasure. The sparkling shoes with their five-inch heels elongated her sleek legs. The idea of those shoes in the air while he fucked her turned him on.

  With a grimace, he adjusted his hard cock in his jeans and made his way to the dresser to retrieve the goodies he’d left there. Once in hand, he sat on the edge of the bed next to her. God, he couldn’t wait for this.

  “Open your mouth.”

  Her breathing caught before the rate of her respiration picked up. Then slowly, she parted her moist, rosy lips. He’d missed kissing her so much, feeding his cock into that mouth and drowning in the warm heaven…

  Shit, he had to stay on track.

  He lifted the dish and dipped the spoon inside to gather a generous bite. Then he inched it onto her tongue and waited.

  As soon as the taste hit her buds, she wrapped her lips around the spoon with a moan that fired his blood and sucked the utensil clean.

  “You like that?” A grin tugged at his lips as he scooped up more of the confection for her.

  “It’s amazing,” she hummed, her face lax with pleasure. “You remembered?”

  “That chocolate mousse is your favorite, yes. I remember everything.”

  She tensed. Jason weighed his next options, but he’d done enough cornering and hounding her for the moment. She knew the score. Now was the time to coax her.

  He raised the spoon to her lips again and nudged her wider. Gia didn’t hesitate, but eagerly took the mousse into her mouth once more. “I think that’s the best I’ve ever had.”

  Because he’d hunted down a five-star rated chef and paid the man a small fortune to make this just for her. If he was going to coerce her into spending nearly three weeks with him, he had to show her some of the perks. This was a start.

  “I think I’d like to try some, too.”

  Rather than giving her time to ponder his declaration, Jason set the dish and spoon aside, then reached for the buttons holding the baby-doll together between her breasts. One, two, three, they all came undone without a fight. He pushed the sides of the filmy garment apart and exposed the sight he’d been craving since he’d last taken her on their wedding night.

  Beauty came in all shapes and sizes, but he was a breast man. And Gia had just about the most beautiful he’d ever seen. Round, firm, on the large side but not disproportionate. Dusky tips surrounded by inch after inch of unblemished olive skin. Just perfect.

  As the cool air caressed Gia, her nipples tightened. His mouth watered. With a feral grin, he dipped his finger into the mousse, then rubbed the dark, sugary cream on her distended tip. So the other didn’t suffer indifference, he covered it as well.

  Gia’s small hands curled into fists and she bit her lip, but arched toward him, begging him without a word to ease her ache. Jason gladly complied.

  He bent and cradled one breast in his palm, lifting it toward his mouth. The scents of chocolate blended with the succulent musk rising from her skin. As he took one sugary nipple in his mouth, her flavor intoxicated him. She made him dizzy with her sweetness.

  Fucking hell, he’d missed Gia. No woman smelled or tasted or affected him the way she did. After nearly two decades of sex for the sake of sex, he knew the difference. And as he laved her peak, licking off every morsel of the chocolate goodness, Jason wondered how he would ever do without her again.

  As he sucked on the hard tip of her breast, a whimper slipped from Gia, as if she couldn’t hold her reaction in. He refused to let her. She forgot that he knew her body way too well to hide from him. But he’d remind her.

  He nipped at the sensitive crest of her breast, then drew on her, sucking hard. She gasped as she tossed her head back with a thump against the headboard. Before she could absorb the pressure of his mouth, he pulled back enough to grip her wet nipple between his thumb and forefinger. As he squeezed, he latched onto the other breast, capturing the hard tip against his tongue and eating off the chocolate while feeling her nipple harden even more.

  “Jason…”

  His wife’s voice sounded somewhere between a moan and a plea. He drank it in, letting the little sigh resonate in his head and swirl together with all the unique things about Gia that left him hungering for her. But he had a point to make now that wasn’t about his pleasure—as much as he wished otherwise. Time to remind
her exactly who—and what—he was.

  Jason pulled back, withdrawing his fingers and lips, removing all stimulation. “Not ‘Jason.’ Try again.”

  Her brow furrowed. Her lips pressed together. Gia was confused and frustrated. Clearly, she wanted more pleasure. He withheld. Maybe now she could understand a fraction of what he’d endured for nearly the past year.

  “Mr. Denning,” she finally gasped out, arching her breasts even closer to him. “Please…”

  “Better,” he praised before he took her nipples in his mouth again, one after the other, savoring the soft skin of her breasts with his fingertips.

  The starch that had stiffened her muscles since she’d walked through his door melted more with every pull of his mouth on the candy-hard crests. He could smell her now. The tang of her arousal filled his nostrils and made his blood boil. Every time he had Gia under his power, she fired him up like no woman ever had. Feeling her now warmed him like the sun after a long, cold winter.

  But after what seemed like a thousand freezing seasons without her, he needed more.

  With a growl, Jason fitted his hands around the little straps over her hips and ripped her thong away. He lay his palm over her bare pussy, letting her feel the claim he had placed here long ago. Then he ground the heel of his hand in a tight circle, directly over her clit. To his great satisfaction, she spread her legs wider to him, granting him even more access to her secret flesh.

  He’d been wrong earlier. His wife didn’t just intoxicate him; she held him spellbound.

  “Gia, baby, I’ve missed you,” he blurted.

  He nearly bit his tongue off. No way should he admit that. The truth gave her power. He had to watch himself, somehow not get lost in her.

  With a mewl, she lifted her hips to him. He sank his fingers between the velvety folds of her cunt, dipped his fingers into her wetness, and he caressed her clit. His slow rub had her writhing as he awakened the nerve endings under the hood of her flesh. Then he withdrew.

  “I’ve missed you, too. Don’t stop,” she begged.