by Amy Valenti
“Take me, Wesley. Fuck me, hard…”
He buried his face against her neck, pushing her against the wall. The bricks were rough and they rubbed painfully against her shoulders.
He pulled his hand from between her legs, pushing her hand away from his cock. She let go of him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, fingers twined in his hair. Wesley’s hand was still beneath her leg, the other braced against the wall beside her head.
She felt his cock brushing against the inside of her thigh, a thrill running through her. Within seconds he was there, thrusting into her, hard and fast, hips flexing forward. She came instantly.
Scarlett’s world exploded, her hips rocking forward as much as she could pinned between Wesley and the wall. Her body jerked, her head banging against the wall. Each thrust Wesley made scraped the bare skin of her shoulders against the bricks and she pushed back further, relishing the pain. It soaked into her skin, a bright counterpoint to the waves of ecstasy flooding through her body.
Wesley thrust hard into her, his cries muffled against her neck. She knew he was close, could feel him growing even harder inside her, his thrusts becoming sharp and erratic. She turned her face toward his, her lips brushing against his ear.
“Wesley…come for me. Come for me…now.”
Wesley pulled his head back, mouth open, breath tearing from his lips. His eyes bore into hers for a long moment and then he pushed hard into her, hips jerking upward.
He came with a loud grunt, head tipped back, eyes closed. Scarlett felt him come, felt the heat and wetness as he thrust into her. Her body was still filled with the aftershocks of her own orgasm and as Wesley came, she joined him, her body taking on a life of its own, twisting in Wesley’s strong arms.
Wesley finally slumped against Scarlett, his forehead resting against hers. She held him while he gasped for breath, gently combing her fingers through his hair.
They came apart, Wesley gradually relaxing his hold on her leg, until she was standing with both feet on the ground. Still he held her, nuzzling her neck. With a sigh, he finally lifted his head from her shoulder. In the dark, he sought her eyes.
“Was that what you were looking for?” His voice was just above a whisper, like silk over steel.
She nodded, not trusting her own voice.
“Still want to come home with me?”
She nodded again. He stepped back, holding out his hand.
“Then let’s go.”
Chapter Eight
They’d barely gotten in the front door before they were pulling at each other’s clothes, tugging down zippers, undoing buttons. Scarlett grabbed the front of Wesley’s shirt and buttons scattered across the floor.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve got other shirts.”
He reached behind her, deftly undoing the clasp on her bra. She shrugged out of it and it fell to the floor alongside his shirt.
“Thanks for not trashing the bra.”
“No problem. I happen to like that bra.”
She smiled and he’d pulled her back against his body, his erection sliding against her stomach.
They’d stumbled down the hall, locked in a desperate kiss. Wesley maneuvered her into his room, tipping her back onto the bed, finally breaking the kiss.
He stood at the edge of the bed a moment, then reached over, flicking on the bedside lamp. His eyes roamed over her body and for a moment she was uncomfortable. No one had ever looked at her like this, with a hunger that was almost palpable. It charged the room and it took her breath away.
“Turn over.” His voice was edged in steel, his eyes hard and glittering.
Scarlett blinked up at Wesley in surprise, at the request, and the tone of his voice. She slowly rolled over onto her stomach. A thrill of anticipation ran down her spine.
She lay still, waiting for him to touch her, tell her what to do or how to move. Instead he was silent. Her mind went back to the club, to the times when he’d stopped touching her, stopped talking to her.
But she wasn’t blindfolded now and she looked back over her shoulder. Wesley was rummaging in the bedside table. He pulled out something and turned back to her. Smiling, he held up what was in his hand.
“Aloe gel, Helps with the sting.”
“Oh…thanks.” That wasn’t on the list of things she’d expected to hear from Wesley. But she realized the skin on her backside was sore. It felt like a really bad sunburn.
The mattress dipped as Wesley climbed on the bed beside her. Scarlett folded her arms, resting her head on her forearms, watching. Wesley squirted some of the gel in his hand, tossing the tube on the bed. He leaned forward, rubbing the gel across her skin. It was cold and a flush of goose bumps skittered across her body.
“Sorry about the cold. But it’ll feel better in a minute.”
He was right. Under Wesley’s gently touch the stinging started to fade.
“That is nice. Are you always this nice to girls you play with?”
“Actually, I do. If they stick around long enough. It’s aftercare.”
“You used that word last night.”
“Yeah. It’s part of play, part of being a responsible dominant, to give aftercare.”
“So this isn’t anything new for you?”
He was still rubbing her skin. But his touch had gone from matter-of-fact to a sensual caress, his fingers sliding along the top of her thigh. Her breathing sped up just a bit, and she ran her tongue along her lower lip.
“Can I ask you a question?” She looked over her shoulder.
Wesley was watching the path of his hand over her skin, eyes heavy-lidded. He looked up at her, his gaze a little unfocused.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Why did you do this thing with my hair? It must be a mess by now.”
The corner of his mouth curved up. “Yeah. It is.” Wesley sat up, nudging her legs apart with his hands. “Let me show you.”
She let him move her legs apart, and then he knelt between them, leaning forward, resting one hand beside her shoulder. She felt his cock brush her ass, surprisingly soft and very hot as it rubbed against her.
“I said I like the back of your neck.” His voice was a low murmur.
“Do you like the back of every girl’s neck?” She wanted to turn, to see his face, but he had her pinned to the bed, his chest against her back.
“Anyone ever tell you that you ask a lot of questions?”
He kissed the back of her neck, fingers edging into her hair. “I like the back of your neck. And I like your hair up. And then…”
She felt the pins being pulled from her hair, tendrils falling against her shoulder. “And then I like it to be down, to watch it fall over your shoulders when I take out the pins.” His breath was soft against her neck, his voice very close to her ear.
“If you were my sub, I’d have you wear your hair up all the time. Every day I’d put it up like I did at your apartment. And then, every night, I’d take it down again.”
His words almost knocked the breath out of her. If she were his sub. For a dizzying moment she tried to imagine what that would be like, but she couldn’t focus on anything but what Wesley was doing to her.
Scarlett’s body was headed for some kind of sensual overload. Every place Wesley touched her was like a brand on her skin. A throbbing had started inside her, low and deep, and she pressed her hips into the bed. Wesley’s body followed her, his hips pushing against her. For an instant his cock slid down the cleft of her ass, and she arched up suddenly, the delicious feel of him sliding over her.
“And then I’d do this.”
Wesley wrapped his hand around her hair, tugging gently, experimentally. Then he pulled harder, pulling her head back. She gasped, rising up on her elbows.
“Further.” Wesley’s weight lifted from her, freeing her. She rose up on her hands and knees, Wesley behind her, still holding her hair in his hand.
“Then I’d do this.”
It wasn’t until his thighs
hit against hers, rubbing against the tender skin, that her mind figured out what Wesley was doing. He slid into her quickly, completely, driving forward with his hips.
But her body knew exactly what was going on, and she cried out suddenly, a powerful wave of sensations flooding through her.
He was gentle but forceful as he pushed himself into her, her hair still held in his hand as he thrust into her. She had no choice but to arch her back, to look straight ahead. Images from the club, of being on the cross came back to her, Wesley behind her, while she wore a blindfold. Wesley behind her in this bed, the night before.
“Scarlett…” Wesley’s voice broke her thoughts. He let go of her hair and she fell forward, gasping. She struggled to turn around, to look at him, but everything sped up, spinning out of control.
Wesley’s fingers dug into her waist, pushing her forward with the power of his thrusts. She heard moans and gasps, hers and his together, growing louder, more urgent.
She was on the edge, her body bucking and arching in Wesley’s hands, as much as she could while he held her down, while he drove himself into her.
When he came, it was with a series of powerful thrusts and loud moans. The feel and sound of him coming inside her sent her over the edge, her mind shattering, her body spiraling upward on a surge of energy. She pushed herself back against Wesley, grinding against his hips as he buried his cock deep inside her.
Then it was over and she was falling forward onto the bed. Wesley’s weight shifted, pulling her over onto the mattress. He slid from her and even that subtle movement made her cry out in ecstasy. She lay in the loose circle of his arms, her body rocketing with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
After a long time she was aware of Wesley moving behind her. She opened her eyes, realized she was shivering.
“You’re half asleep, Scarlett. Let’s get you under the covers.”
“Am I staying the night?”
“It’d be pretty cold to turn you out now. It’s almost morning. You’ve gone through a lot tonight.”
He took her hand, and she stood at the edge of the bed, watching, while he made an effort to straighten out the tangle of sheets and blankets. Finally he nodded and she climbed into the bed. Wesley followed her, pulling the sheet over her shoulders.
Wesley cradled her against his chest, gently stroking her hair. After a few minutes, he reached up, turning off the light beside the bed.
“You said most girls don’t stay, the ones from Diablo at least.”
“Right. They usually don’t expect it, neither do I. Some end up falling asleep…” His voice trailed off.
“Do you ever bring girls home from Chase’s club?”
There was a beat of silence. “It’s not why I go there. Not part of that deal at all. I don’t expect it and neither do they.”
“Can I ask you something?”
She felt the rumble of his laugh against her cheek. “You’ve already been asking me questions. But, yeah. Go ahead. Ask away.”
“Aren’t you lonely sometimes? Don’t you miss having a girlfriend?”
The beat of silence was longer this time and she felt Wesley’s arm tense beneath her body.
“No one’s looking for commitment. The girls who come to Diablo are looking for a one-night thing, nothing more. Like I said, lots of times I don’t even know their names. The girls at Chase’s, I may see them there again, but they’re looking for a play partner, not a life partner.”
Scarlett thought about what he’d said. She’d thought last night that it seemed a lonely way to live, and she still felt the same way after being at Chase’s club.
“So let me ask you a question, Scarlett. What are you looking for? Why are you still here?”
The question took her off guard. “I’m…I wasn’t looking for anything.”
“You came to Diablo with some kind of agenda. You walked blind into the whole role-playing scene, but you didn’t walk blind into a club full of men, looking for something from them.”
The last thing Scarlett wanted to admit was why she’d gone to Diablo. She bit her lip, trying to think of a way to explain without actually telling him about Tyler.
“All I ask is the truth, Scarlett.”
And all Wesley had told her so far was the truth. She took a deep breath and even though the room was dark, she squeezed her eyes shut. “I came there to prove to myself that I’m desirable, that I wasn’t the fat girl my boyfriend had just dumped.”
“So you weren’t looking for a life partner either, were you? You were looking for something quick, something temporary. Something to make you feel better in the moment.”
“I guess…it’s just, after what Tyler said, I felt…unlovable. I guess I had something to prove to myself.”
His arm tightened around her shoulder in a brief hug. “You’re anything but unlovable, Scarlett. You’re a very sexy, desirable girl. And your ex sounds like an ass.”
She breathed out a soft laugh. “Yeah. I think he’s an ass, too.”
“So if you hadn’t run into Kyle first, you might have gone home with someone else.”
Scarlett cringed. “I could have, I guess. I’m really glad that I didn’t, though.”
Wesley was quiet and after a few minutes she thought he’d fallen asleep. She let herself relax against him, let her mind drift back over the night. She thought about being tied to the cross, how exciting it had been, but scary at the same time. An image of Brooke rose up, the beautiful woman at the bar, a submissive, but clearly a confident woman.
And then, how she’d given up trying to be submissive, how the raging fire inside her took over her thoughts, took her out of any role-playing she thought she might be part of. Her mind drifted, taking a different path, imagining what it would have been like if she’d stayed in her role, stayed under obedience, let Wesley control the whole experience. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or awake as she envisioned herself still restrained on the cross, with Wesley taking her there, bringing a release for both of them that went beyond description.
She jerked, coming awake in the dark. Something had clicked into place. Being a submissive wasn’t about being a doormat, or being weak. It was about trust, and an exchange of power, like Wesley had said earlier.
The realization came to her she’d been the one holding the control all along, or at least some of it. More than she’d thought possible. If she’d tried to stay under obedience, she’d have been able to control what happened, by giving Wesley the power to control her and what he did to her. And by giving in to her desires, she’d given up control of herself, and Wesley lost any control he’d had.
Wesley was turned away from her, lying on his side. For a minute she thought about waking him, telling him what she’d discovered. She reached out, then pulled her hand back. There’d be time tomorrow.
She was on the verge of real sleep when Wesley’s words brought her wide awake.
“I’m glad you didn’t go home with someone else, either.” His voice was a sleepy, sexy rumble from the other side of the bed.
Scarlett was wide awake again, her heart taking an unexpected leap in her chest.
“I think I know what you were trying to show me tonight. About being a submissive, I mean.”
Wesley shifted, rolling over to face her. “What are you talking about?”
“The whole exchange of power thing, being submissive but being the one in control. I think I understand…or at least I understand more.” Her words tumbled over each other as she tried to capture her thoughts.
“I’m not quite sure I get what you’re saying, Scarlett. Want to run that by me again?”
Sudden impatience flared inside her, frustration with her inability to say what she meant. “It’s kind of hard to put into words—I’m not sure I can—but it’s about trust and by giving up control it gives me the power to control how things go. If I’d tried a little bit harder tonight, and not given in to how I was feeling, things would have been a lot different.”
Wesley r
eached out, pulling her against his chest in a sleepy hug. “So you had an epiphany?”
“Sort of, I guess. At least I think I understand what you were trying to do tonight.”
“Does that change how you feel about what happened at the club?”
“Yeah, it does.” Scarlett snuggled closer to Wesley. The heady scent of their sex rose around her, intimate and somehow comforting. “I gave up because I didn’t understand. I didn’t trust you all the way.”
“Could you learn to trust, to not give up…give up on me?”
Exhaustion was creeping up on Scarlett. Wesley’s voice sounded far away, lulling her. She stifled a yawn. “I don’t know. But I’d like to try.”
His arms briefly tightened around her, his voice muffled against her neck. “Thank you, Scarlett. That’s what I wanted to hear.”
Chapter Nine
Scarlett rolled over in bed, reluctantly opening one eye. The light hit her and she winced, pulling the covers over her face.
“Oh, fuck.” She hadn’t had anything to drink last night but it felt like she’d finished an entire bottle by herself. Her head hurt and her muscles ached.
“Hey, you’re awake.”
She pulled the covers away from her face, squinting toward the voice. Wesley was standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, looking rested and fresh, and far sexier than any man had a right to look this early in the day. He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. She caught the smile of soap and a hint of aftershave, and the scent of Wesley beneath all that.
“How do you feel?”
“Kind of like crap. Actually, a lot like crap.” Somehow sitting in his bed, in the daylight, made her shy. She struggled to sit up, wincing as the sheets rubbed against her sensitive backside. “And my ass still hurts.”
But beneath all the parts that ached and her stinging ass, she realized she was happy, happy to be here with Wesley, happy to have the memories of being with him at the club buzzing through her head.
