Club Alpha: BDSM Romance Boxed Set

by Amy Valenti

  “You do like this.”

  It was not a question, it was a statement. And he was right. She couldn’t argue with him, her mind couldn’t even hold the thought long enough to form an answer. The fear skittered along the edges of her mind for a moment. But she was distracted as he pushed his thumb a fraction of an inch further into her mouth. Purely on instinct she flicked her tongue across his thumb, then bit down. She tried to hold on to the fear but it was gone and then she couldn’t even remember why she’d felt that way.

  Wesley smiled, dimples deepening. “That’s my girl.” He pulled his thumb from her mouth and sat back, running his tongue over it, his eyes darkening.

  He stood suddenly, pulling off his shirt. Scarlett saw smooth skin over his well-muscled chest and broad shoulders. She caught a glimpse of his stomach, flat and taut. Her breath caught in her throat as her eyes moved lower.

  His jeans had slid down his hips, the unbuttoned fly spreading open. The head of his erection was visible, thick and hard.

  “Do you like what you see?”

  She dragged her eyes to his face. As he watched her, he undid the final button, then slowly slid the jeans down, exposing more of his erection to her.

  Something hot and dark blossomed deep inside her and she arched her back, her ass grinding down into the bed. She wanted him to see her, to watch her while she watched him, so she kicked at the sheets, tangling them around her legs.

  “Impatient girl. Do you want this off, Scarlett?” He took one hand away from his jeans, leaving her with a tantalizing view of him, and reached down, twitching the sheet.

  “Do you want this gone?” The steel was back in his voice. She nodded.

  “Rules are you have to answer when I ask you a question. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” For a moment she was paralyzed by the thought of him being unhappy with her, of leaving her. Not of leaving her tied to the bed, but leaving her here without touching her again, leaving her high and hot, without any release.

  Then he smiled and she relaxed. Slowly he pulled the sheet off of her body.

  She felt the heat of his gaze as his eyes traveled over her and in response she arched again, legs moving restlessly across the mattress, heat and wetness pooling inside her. His tongue eased out, caressing his bottom lip.

  “You are ripe, Scarlett. Better than I imagined.”

  In one graceful movement he pulled off his jeans. He kicked them away and took a step forward, standing at the edge of the bed. She let her eyes devour him, feasting on his beautiful body. He flexed his hips slightly, his erection curving along the flat plane of his stomach. She bit her lip, spreading her legs for him, an open and wanton invitation.

  Wesley climbed on the bed beside her, moving slowly over her, not quite touching her. He looked down into her eyes and she found she could barely breathe.

  “I’m going to kiss you now, Scarlett. Is that okay with you?”

  She lifted her head from the mattress, pulling hard against her bonds. She caught a glimpse of his smile before he lowered his head to hers and she closed her eyes, waiting for his kiss.

  “Scarlett? Is that okay?” His breath was against her lips. He was so fucking close she could almost taste him. But he hesitated and it drove her mad.

  “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

  The instant his lips touched hers her body exploded. What they were doing quickly went past kissing, became the sole focus of her being. She wanted to devour him, have him devour her, and they were both doing a pretty damn good job of doing that. She was completely given over to the sensation and feeling of his lips and tongue against hers.

  He lowered himself onto her, his chest pressed against her breasts, his skin raking across her nipples, shafts of ecstasy sliding through her. Against her stomach she felt his erection, hot and hard, and she squirmed beneath him, tugging at the ties, whimpering against his mouth in a muted plea. She wanted him inside her, wanted him to fuck her.

  Wesley shifted slightly and his erection slid lower, moving along the inside of her thigh. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him down hard against her. She felt his smile against her mouth as he flexed his hips, the head of his cock brushing against her. With a cry she broke away from his mouth, the anticipation almost too much to handle.

  “Please, Wesley…oh, God…please…yes, to everything…” Her words trailed off into inarticulate noises, almost sobs.

  “Yes to everything.” His face was against her neck. “I like that.”

  And then he was inside her, thrusting hard. She arched and writhed, pulling against the ties, oblivious to the pain in her wrists. He was fucking her, finally, and she held him around his waist with her legs, her hips slamming up to meet him.

  Everything was a blur of sensation, hot and wet and hard. Her head was thrown back as she cried out in time to his thrusts. Tears ran down her face, the sheer power of his body, the way he moved over her, inside her, all of it more powerful than anything she’d ever thought possible.

  She arched hard against Wesley as she came, her hips jerking against his. For a long moment she thrashed hard against the silk, head whipping back and forth. He was still inside her, she could feel him, thrusting into her as she exploded around him.

  Her cries turned into sobs as Wesley pulled back from her slightly and she had no choice but to let go of him with her legs. He slid an arm beneath her thighs, and she let him shift her until her legs rested over his shoulder. She was completely at his mercy now and she gave in, let him thrust into her with abandon. She lost track of time and space, her mind swept clean of anything except what Wesley was doing to her, the rush she felt as he fucked her.

  From a distance she heard her own sounds, and above those cries, Wesley’s moans growing louder, more intense. He was grunting now with each penetrating thrust, holding himself for a second inside her. She opened her eyes, watching him as he rode her, his eyes closed, head turned to the side. He was beautiful and just watching him, the movement of his body as he fucked her, was almost enough to make her come again.

  He’s going to come, she thought. And this is going to be all over. She pulled against the silk again, panic flooding her. She didn’t want this to end; it couldn’t end, not yet.

  But his thrusts were getting erratic, his body trembling above her. Inside her he seemed to grow even harder, if that was possible, as he headed toward his climax.

  He pulled back, held himself, then jabbed her hard, once, then again. Then he was buried deep, hips grinding against her body. She felt the warmth of him inside her, the hot wetness as his cock pulsed, filling her with his seed. And she came again, shuddering beneath him as he remained inside her.

  Finally he rolled away from her, no part of him touching her. It seemed as if an acre of bed separated them and she felt empty, bereft, lost. She tugged against the ties, aching to feel him against her, even just the touch of his hand on her arm.

  “Wesley…” She could barely hear her own voice. “Wesley.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her. Sweat beaded his forehead, covered his chest. She had the insane urge to lick him, to taste him.

  “Scarlett.” He turned to look at her and she watched as his chest rose and fell, his breathing still fast. It sent a thrill through her. She’d done that to him, she’d made him breath like that.

  “Hold me, please. Untie me.”

  He held her gaze for a moment, a very long moment. She thought he would be angry, that she wasn’t still playing the game. But she’d lost track of what the game was. All she knew is she wanted to touch him, be touched by him. To curl up next to him. And then to have him inside her again.

  Wesley sat up, reaching above her head. The silk loosened around her wrists and she pulled her hands were free. Bringing her arms down, she reached for him, wincing as pain lanced through her shoulders.

  “Be careful. You’re going to be sore, probably for a few days.”

  “Hold me.” She repeated the words.

  Something dark passed over
his face, brief, fleeting, clouding his eyes. Then it was gone and he smiled, and reached for the sheet, pulling it over her. He moved to slide out of the bed and she grabbed his hand. His smile widened, dimples showing.

  “I’ll be right back. Going to get you some water.” He leaned forward, kissing her forehead. He wasn’t mad at her or leaving her. She breathed a sigh.

  She watched him walk through a doorway, heard running water. He reappeared, flicking a switch on the wall. The music stopped. He sat on the edge of the bed and handed her the glass. Until she took a sip she didn’t realize how thirsty she was. She drank the whole glass, then handed it back to Wesley. He set it on the bedside table.

  “You played the game really well, Scarlett.” He flicked off the lamp on the bedside table and slid in beside her. She eased her aching arms around him, pillowing her head on his chest. “You’ve done this before, somewhere other than Diablo?”

  She was already fading into sleep but she struggled to answer his question. It must still be part of the game. “Did what? I don’t know what you mean?”

  “Play the game. You know, the whole fantasy thing. I wasn’t sure how you’d do, but you surprised me. You were really in to it, from the start. You’re the only girl who’s asked for aftercare.”

  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 a 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 and quickly gone, but beneath 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. Once 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 damned 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 pressing 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 from 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 shar
p, 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 her 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 sunk 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.