by Lana Lachlan
Several deep drives later and she began to tremble. “Mmmm.”
Bending his knees, he rested her butt on his thighs and laid the princess back for her very own money shot.
She orgasmed, eyes locked on herself, mouth wide in a throaty cry of relief. Gage waited until the last contraction died before finishing up himself, buried to the hilt and struggling to hold position as the jets of relief coursed ecstasy through his body.
Drawing himself upright, he kept her suspended in his arms, still locked to his groin. “Good work, princess. I take it you enjoyed seeing yourself being done.”
Glazed eyes met his in the mirror. “You’re dirty.”
“Dirty works every time, babe.”
She smiled. “No one’s ever called me that.”
He often called women ‘babe’ so her reaction surprised him. He didn’t mean anything by it but obviously she thought it romantic as she snuggled her head into his shoulder while he carried her to the bed. Laying her down, she spread for him. “Is this how you want me, Gage?”
A true submissive, that was Anna Cabot. He leaned down to kiss her, thinking how sweet she was.
“First things first, girl. I think there’s more work to do on your ass.”
She looked at him with a wary excitement. “What?”
Gage turned her over, rubbed her red butt. “I want you to stay very still.”
“You have no right.”
The visceral desire in her voice said he had every right. Taking the leather strap he used to secure his saddlebag to his bike, he wrapped half around his palm, trailing the other half over her rear end to heighten her anticipation. The strap required the right ratio of pain to pleasure. Not too much, not too little.
“I’m going to strap you, girl. And if you want me to stop, just say so and it’s over. Okay?”
She nodded and gripped the pillow.
He swung the strap over her backside, making sure the leather went no further than her butt and upper thighs—the only parts of a woman he’d ever touch in punishment and even then, he took extra care. Tracing his finger along the damage he’d inflicted, he felt his way between her butt cheeks to her pussy. Soaked.
“You like, girl?”
“No, it hurts like that poor man in the ring got hurt.”
Her grumble raised a smile in him. “He didn’t get out of Bullock’s way. If you want it to end, just say so.”
“Brute.”
Answer enough.
He thwacked her again, so hard she stuffed the bedspread in her mouth to muffle her scream. Lining the leather up, he settled into a pattern of heavy and light, appreciating the way her cheeks wobbled and clenched and her hips jerked nicely under his precise blows. This girl could take a fair amount of the strap, but he only intended to get her off and no more. As it was, she’d have to find a new explanation for the fiancé as the swimming pool excuse wouldn’t cut it with the bright red roadmap now crisscrossing her butt.
He flicked the strap across the underside of her butt, not hard but Anna no longer needed it hard. With her butt on fire, she climaxed on the pain alone.
His work done, he rolled her over, losing his breath at the sight of her looking up at him with dreamy eyes. Annaliesa Cabot had definitely discovered her naughty self and what a discovery it was with her sexual flush and contented expression.
“I hate you, Mr. Gage.”
Although she could still put up a fight. With a laugh, he scooped her high in his arms and took her to the bathroom. Turning on the shower faucet, he stood clear of the cold water until the hot eventually spluttered out and set Anna down in the stall. She’d be having a WTF moment over the moldy state of the bathroom but, surprisingly, she didn’t complain as she leaned into the shower wall and stuck her ass out invitingly.
Holding her close from behind, he kissed the top of her head. “Your shoes are getting wet.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Thank God because they made her the ideal height for his purposes. She felt so dainty in his hands and as he carefully inserted himself into her dainty little pussy—tight as hell from orgasm—he looked down to enjoy the water cascading over her dainty round ass. If only the fool fiancé took time to know this girl, know what made her tick, he’d have one hell of a marriage.
Goddamn it, could he be envious of the stuffed shirt?
But even as he thought the thought, he reproached himself for being an idiot.
Sliding out of her, he turned her and picked her up, slanting his mouth over hers for a hot wet kiss while she wrapped her legs around his waist and dug the heels of her shoes into his back. Gage explored every part of her mouth, withdrawing to work along each plump lip before plunging his tongue deep again. He hadn’t kissed like this in a long time and it felt so personal, so erotic, so primal he groaned.
“Gage?”
He pressed his tongue against hers to keep her quiet, not wanting any distraction. This time was his, his girl to enjoy and he intended to take his fill of her for the rest of the night.
Raising her high in the air, he sucked on her nipples while she arched into his mouth to get closer. He loved the taste of her, loved the feel of her hands gripping his head and her seemingly weightless body quivering when he drew out a succulent peak with his lips, nipping on the release.
“Gage, I need you.”
His name came on a sob. He could torture them both by holding out, but they didn’t need foreplay. Lowering her onto his cock, he closed his eyes to absorb the sensation of elastic heat wrapping his dick. She was out of this world and he was almost out of restraint so he opened his eyes to dilute the pleasure only to find her staring at the scar on his jaw.
“I know you are a dangerous man.”
It was natural she’d see him as dangerous and violent. Most people did. But she was risky to him as well with her soft body, her sensuality and her vulnerability that made him want to protect her like his very own kitten.
“And you are a girl who likes dangerous men.”
She ran her tongue along her top lip. “What do dangerous men do?”
His hands under her butt, he thrust. “They do this.” Another thrust. “And this. You get the idea, princess?”
“And princesses do this,” she said, gripping his dick.
He would’ve laughed if her pussy hadn’t been so snug that he might lose it. He could release in a heartbeat but hell, he was nowhere ready for this ride to be over.
“Harder,” she whispered, looking him square in the eyes, the black flecks in stark relief to the emerald. “Do it harder.”
“Dammit girl, strapping your ass is one thing but I’m not going to hurt your pussy.”
She leaned back to look down at the root of his cock coming into view. “Pleeease.”
So what was he waiting for?
Backing her up, he leaned her against the shower stall, got her in position and bracing his feet on the slippery floor, shunted her up the tiles in a single hard thrust. Her legs lost their hold on his waist, flopping wildly over his forearms and as he started pounding her, she went limp… except for her muscles, those glorious muscles that clutched him as he ripped her in two. Throughout, her eyes were on his, her pupils dilated with desire, her breath coming in heavy bursts to his ruthless entries. When he felt her sliding down the tiles, he dug his fingers into her butt to keep her jacked up to take every inch of his thudding shaft. And as she neared climax, she flooded with lubricant as though urging for more depth… if that were possible. Gage had never wanted to come so bad, yet at the same time had never wanted to hold back the sweet agony.
It ended on his shout as he jettisoned. Anna followed, her head smacking back on the wall, her throat taut as she screamed his name. When it had all ended, he could do nothing but hold her shaking body until they both came back to earth.
She moved first, shifting on his dick before settling back down.
“Fuck, I’ve been too rough.”
“Yes, but I liked it.”
&nbs
p; Yet something had her worried. “So what’s the problem, Annaliesa?”
Apart from cheating on the fiancé, that is.
She shivered as if her name chilled her. “Not that.”
“Tell me.”
Her fingers traced one of the scars across his pecs. “How did you get this?”
“A fight.”
“Could you teach me to box?”
“It wasn’t that kind of fight. Anyway, I doubt a hothouse flower like you could cope with black eyes and a fat lip.”
She made a fist, poked his chin. “Is this how you do it?”
Snaring her hand, he kissed her fingers. “Not exactly.”
“Do you box?”
“I was a heavyweight fighter at one time. And you’re changing the subject. What’s on your mind?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“You said that to me once before. Okay, you’re cheating on your rich prick, but you must want to marry him.”
Annoyance washed her face. “He’s not a… a what you said.”
Even pouting, she still had the cuteness. Thrusting himself high into the euphoria of her tight channel, he grunted his approval when she aligned her hips to take his undiminished erection. A man could stay inside this beauty with a perpetual hard on and never come out.
“You love him, don’t you, girl?”
He felt her muscles involuntarily squeezing as she stiffened at his question. “Yes, I love him.”
Jesus, that felt good. As for loving the fiancé, he believed her. But it would be love without lust. As a natural submissive, she’d do whatever Frankland wanted which probably involved nothing more than sitting on his pecker before bedtime. If she stayed in denial, there was nothing he could do about it.
Setting her down, he washed her down in the rapidly cooling water while she stood shivering and complaining that the motel should have more hot water and why wasn’t there any shampoo and conditioner. He had to smile. It wasn’t easy being a princess.
After rinsing himself off, Gage left her fussing with her hair while he went to the bedroom to think. Five minutes ago, the thought of an all-nighter with Anna hadn’t seemed long enough but now he had an uneasy feeling about his decision. Coming here had been a bad idea and he knew only too well that bad ideas didn’t improve with age. Annaliesa had risked everything to see him at the gym. And maybe she had ideas of doing this again or even hoped for a booty call whenever she felt the need. Like hell, he’d do stud duties. It wasn’t an option anyway, when she had a blackmailer on her tail and he had the kind of past that blackmailers loved. And as far as reputations went, he never had one but the girl did and she wouldn’t survive this mess.
Time for a rethink. Of everything.
For some time, he’d being pondering the idea of buying a bar in a small town where the folks all knew each other and where his past wouldn’t be around to haunt him. And a few weeks ago, when he’d taken a rare day off and gone for a long ride, he’d found a place for sale three hours down the coast in Carter’s Bay. A rundown bar and grill but with potential to make it into something. His commission from Bullock’s fight would more than cover the asking price and renovations so there was nothing to hold him back. He could lease the loft for a few years until he was ready to sell the building. It sounded like a plan. Yeah, he’d get onto it right after Bullock’s bout next week.
In the meantime, tonight had to be finished up.
She emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel and with her hair in wet strands. Coming straight to him, she pushed up on her toes to kiss the scar on his jaw. “Make love to me.”
After spending the last hour ransacking her body, he’d like nothing more than to be soft with her but every minute they stayed here was a minute too long for her safety.
“It’s time to end this, Anna,” he said walking away to grab his jeans. “You have to go back to your real life.”
She dropped the towel. “Not yet.”
It was hard to think clearly with her nakedness only yards away. “No games, Anna. Put your clothes on. It’s too dangerous for you to stay here.”
She dressed, took her purse and waited quietly by the front door while he finished up. She looked so small and sad, he was tempted to gather her in his arms and tell her everything would be fine. Instead he leaned down to lift her face. “Listen to me, girl. If the blackmailer contacts you again, text me and I’ll see what I can do. But don’t ever come to the gym again or to my loft because it’s not safe. Do you understand?”
“But…”
He tightened his grip. “Do you understand?”
Big-eyed, she nodded up at him. “Yes.”
“Good. I’ll call a cab to take you home.”
She waited in silence until the taxi arrived. After she’d left, he returned the key to the office, paid up and headed for his late-night beer.
No regrets, he’d vowed. He just had to believe it.
Chapter 4
Anna unlocked the front door of the Metzo Gallery, stepped in from the drizzling rain and flipped the sign to ‘open’. She loved the gallery because here she could be herself. Not an heiress, not a granddaughter, not a socialite. Not even a fiancée. Just Anna Cabot, art gallery assistant.
Straightening her little black suit and tucking in a stray tendril from her hair bun, she walked the main gallery. The Metzo stocked expensive artworks so every morning, whoever arrived first had to check that every work was present and accounted for. It was her favorite time of the day. She’d always loved art, particularly the modern pieces stocked by the Metzo.
Julian had gone to Europe on business for a week, so she’d offered to work full time, happily avoiding everything to do with the wedding. Grandmama had barely noticed her absence, she was so absorbed in directing the planners over the menu, flowers, music, and everything else that went into a high-profile wedding with three hundred guests. Anna had hoped for a small wedding of family and friends but, as Grandmama had pointed out, being a Cabot and marrying a Frankland came with responsibilities and the first responsibility was to have an enormous wedding with half the state invited. Anna had given up trying to plan her own wedding. Anyway, in two weeks’ time it would all be over and she would be Mrs. Julian Frankland. Any woman who married into the Frankland family automatically took her husband’s name and how could she object when he was so good to her. When she’d told him she’d lost her engagement ring, he’d patted her hand and told her not to worry about it as the insurance would cover a new ring. Now she had a replacement, equally beautiful.
Yes, Julian had everything a girl could—should—want. A handsome husband who’d look after her and give her beautiful children. But the girl who had said ‘yes’ to his proposal was no longer the same girl. Worse, it had gotten to the point where she now found his habits rather annoying. The way he chewed the inside of his cheek when he thought about a problem and the way he always checked his phone at dinner. She even disliked him calling her ‘darling’ and ‘dearest’ all the time. Why not ‘babe’ for a change? And why couldn’t he be adventurous in his lovemaking? She hadn’t noticed before because his habits hadn’t annoyed her. And while he was as attentive as ever in bed, it now seemed so monotonous. Even his gym-toned body that she’d always admired didn’t compare to muscles and tattoos and scars.
Stop it, Annaliesa. It was only sex and not even respectable sex. Soon you’ll be married and live happily ever after.
Anna opened the gallery’s order book and began to check which pieces were due to be shipped out today. She heard the buzzer from the door and looking up saw her friend and maid of honor, Cristal stroll in, swinging an umbrella.
“Hi there, girlfriend. When would you like your bachelorette party?”
Anna pasted a smile on her face. Cristal often called in to the gallery during one of her many shopping expeditions. Cristal worked from time to time, but her jobs never lasted more than a month or two as they interfered with her shopping. Anna had suggested more than once that Cristal
become a professional shopper for celebrities but Cristal had said she’d get bored shopping for other people. Her parents were rich but nowhere near as rich as Anna’s family and, as Grandmama pointed out, didn’t come from old money. That was the one and only time Anna had called her grandmother out for being a snob. It hadn’t done any good as Grandmama had simply raised a brow and reminded Anna that she had a lot to learn about life.
“You pick a day,” Anna answered unenthusiastically. “I don’t mind."
“I thought a week before the wedding would be best. You’ll be so busy after that.”
“Sounds fine.”
Cristal gave Anna one of her knowing looks. “You know, sweetie, it’s normal to have pre-wedding nerves. Do you want to talk about it?”
Anna tamped down her urge to share. While she trusted Cristal, it seemed safer not to tell about the Fortune Club and what happened in Gage’s loft. The blackmailer hadn’t been in touch. Things were fine. They had to be.
“I’m okay. Grandmama is organizing everything so there’s nothing for me to worry about. She’s been wonderful.”
Cristal giggled. “Oh I know how wonderful your Grandmama is. As chief bridesmaid, I got the full lecture about keeping all six of us in line, including those two bratty flower girls.”
Anna blew a sigh. “I only wanted four bridesmaids, but Beatrice thought Julian’s two sisters should be included because it wasn’t fair to only have the Cabot cousins. Then she wanted her friend’s two great-granddaughters for flower girls because they’d look cute holding my train. I hope you like your dress.”
“It’s beautiful.”
At least Anna had been allowed to choose the dresses. Midnight blue silk with creamy seed pearls around the neckline and matching blue headpieces with flowers.
Cristal rested her elbows on the counter, swinging her hips from side to side. Anna thought her best friend beautiful and sexy. She always wore the shortest miniskirts and the highest heels and with her wild mass of blonde ‘just got out of bed’ curls, she inevitably turned male heads.
