by Kendall Ryan
Memories of our first kiss flash through me. It was raining out, pouring actually, and I was hiding behind my parent’s shed as I tried to work up the courage to run toward the house. Reece came to check on me and help me inside. The way the rain had soaked his clothes, making them mold to every hard, muscled plane of his body, was too much. The secret attraction for each other we’d been fighting all summer seemed to boil over all at once.
I can’t remember who made the first move, all I know is that suddenly our mouths were fused together while warm raindrops fell heavily on us. My fingers knotted in his soaked T-shirt while his tongue quested for mine. I remember my pounding heartbeat, and the damp flood of moisture between my legs when his teeth nibbled my bottom lip. His kiss was raw. Primal. And still the best kiss I’ve ever had.
We may be different people now, but that doesn’t stop me from leaning in toward him and placing my palm against his cheek. “Can I kiss you?”
He lets out a long, slow exhale, but doesn’t answer. “Lie down on the bed.”
Confusion rushes through me, but I do as I’m told. Reece’s fingertips skim over my belly, my hips, the pressure so light it tickles. His calloused fingertips are warm against my skin. It strikes me just how perfectly built for each other we are, his strength for my softness. I suck in a breath when he reaches the juncture between my thighs.
“Spread your legs for me. Show me that sweet little cunt,” he says.
His words are so crass, and I’ve never been spoken to like this before, but my body responds immediately. I’m warm all over, and between my legs grows damp.
“Beautiful,” he growls, running the pad of his thumb between my folds, feeling the slick heat that’s just for him.
I part my legs further. All my self-consciousness falls away at the appreciative tone in his voice and the hunger I see reflected in his eyes.
“I’m going to show you how to be a good submissive tonight. How to please me. Would you like that?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly. The idea of pleasing him makes me feel hot all over. Maybe it’s the way his tall, muscular frame looms over me, or that sexy-as-sin sleeve of dark tattoos, but I’m turned on and soaked already.
Shameless. But who cares.
When he removes a length of black rope from his bag, I present my hands to him, placing my wrists together in front of me.
“Good girl,” he says, looping the rope over each wrist and securing them together. Once my wrists are secured, he places them over my head, up near the headboard. “Keep them up here.”
Before I can even wonder what happens next, he lowers himself to the bed between my legs. “Just one little taste,” he says, and before I can prepare myself, his mouth is on me, his tongue licking against my sensitive clit.
My hips shoot off the mattress and I cry out. I want to bring my hands to his hair, feel the soft strands between my fingers, but I keep my arms above my head, wanting to obey him and take the pleasure he’s offering. Something tells me that maybe this is his way of making up for being an asshole last time.
“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs with his mouth still against me. “I could eat this sweet pussy for hours.”
Yes, please. My hips are circling of their own accord, my breathy moans getting louder and louder, my orgasm getting closer, when he suddenly stops. He fucking stops.
A frustrated groan travels up my throat. I blink open my blurry eyes, trying to focus on him and figure out why for the love of God he’d stop.
“Not yet, princess. I’m just getting started, and you won’t come tonight until I say so.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm my raging hormones. “I understand, sir. Tell me how to please you.”
Rising to his knees, he flicks open the button on his jeans and takes out his thick, heavy cock, stroking it in his right hand.
God, that’s sexy. I could watch him do this all night, but after a couple of slow strokes, he stops.
“You want to know how to please me? Turn over on your belly and show me that sexy ass of yours.”
With my heart rate ratcheting up, I roll onto my stomach and place my bound hands underneath me, lying with my knees bent so that my butt is up in the air. I should feel exposed and uncomfortable, but the appreciative murmur in his throat tells me that he fucking loves this view. He’s always been an ass man. I guess some things never change.
“Have you ever done this before?” he asks.
“No, sir.” I’ve never been interested. But with Reece, I find that I am.
I feel him, the heat of his broad body against me. His chest hovers over my back, and his thighs press against the back of mine as he leans over me. I tremble when his lips touch between my shoulder blades as he places a tender kiss there. I wanted to kiss him tonight, even asked him if I could, but it seems this is the only kind of kiss I’ll get. Knowing that, I savor the press of his full mouth against my skin.
“I’m going to fuck this tight, virgin ass. And you’re not going to come until I say so. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I croak. Nervous does not even begin to describe my state of mind. I’m about to tell him there’s no way in hell I’m going to be able to come from this when I hear a low hum of vibration.
Wondering what’s about to happen, I feel Reece’s fingertips rub my back opening, warm and slippery with lubricant.
Oh. Hello there.
“Breathe for me,” he whispers, placing another one of those sweet kisses against the back of my neck that make me feel too many things.
I try to focus—not on the man, but on the act, the mechanics of it all. I need to keep myself detached. When the broad head of his cock presses against my ass, I pull a deep breath into my lungs. There is no way in hell that’s going to fit. That thing is gargantuan.
“Do you trust me?” he asks from behind me.
“Yes.” There’s no question, no hesitation on my part, and I sense that that pleases him.
“Then breathe and try to relax for me. I’m not going to hurt you. I know what I’m doing.”
I don’t want to think about all of the submissives who came before me, but perhaps he’s right. His experience with women will be a benefit to me, if I let it.
“It’s just I don’t see how this will work. I’ve never . . . and you’re . . .”
“Shh.” He quiets me with another tender kiss pressed between my shoulder blades. “It’s nothing that patience and a lot of lube can’t solve. Plus you have full medical coverage, right?” He chuckles darkly, and I stiffen. “I'm kidding, babe. Relax. I know what I'm doing. I’m going to make this good for you.”
I take a deep breath and try to relax. His finger is still stroking my asshole, and just as I’m getting used to the sensation, he moves the small buzzing toy—a vibrator—between my legs.
Unable to control myself, I moan.
“That feel good?”
“Yeah.” Fuck. It really does.
He rubs the toy against my clit and pushes one finger inside my backside.
Oh. That’s different, but it’s more pleasurable than I imagined it would be. I move my hips back and forth, enjoying the dual sensations. Soon the wide head of his cock replaces his finger, and he pushes forward very slowly, letting me adjust to him.
“Fuck, Macey,” he curses low under his breath.
I’m about to ask him what I’ve done wrong when he slides deeper. I lose my breath, along with my ability to speak. He fills me so completely; I’m totally at his mercy.
He grips my hip, pulling me back and forth on him as if I’m merely a vessel for his pleasure. “What is it about you? You make me lose myself.” He grunts with each thrust, still keeping his magic little toy against me.
I don’t answer. I can’t, because suddenly I realize how close I am to climaxing.
“Reece.” I breathe his name out on a moan. “I’m going to come.”
“Not yet,” he says, his commanding tone returning.
I cry out, groaning his name and b
egging. “I need …”
“No fucking way. When you come, it’s going to be on my tongue.”
My hips buck wildly, and I’m struggling to hold back the most powerful orgasm of my life. It’s almost painful. I bite my lip, crying out, tears stinging my eyes and my chest heaving.
Just when I can’t take one more ounce of pleasure, he removes the toy from between my legs. Thank fuck. Then he rocks into me in a few short, uneven thrusts, and his thick cock pulses inside me as he lets go. His voice is a rough whisper as he climaxes, and I’ve never heard a more beautiful or desperate sound.
Slowly, he pulls himself free from my body. I feel tired and used, but in the most wonderful way. I collapse into a heap, my legs buckling under me.
Reece lifts me and turns me over, laying me on my back on the bed. His cock is still hard and huge, standing tall. With his pulse thumping in his neck, and the veins straining in his arms, he looks sexy and dangerous.
“Let me untie you first.”
He works at the ropes around my wrists, and soon I’m free. My hands are cool and tingly as I stretch my fingers. Reece bends down and brings his mouth to my breast, taking one nipple in his mouth and sucking it firmly. My whole body is hypersensitive; I’m not going to last long.
Reaching between my legs, he slides one long finger inside me, and my pussy squeezes him. “Such a good girl, letting me fuck your ass like that.” His hot mouth moves to my other breast.
“Please, I need to come,” I beg.
“Only because you asked so nicely,” he says, positioning himself between my parted thighs again. His wicked mouth devours me, licking in a rhythm that quickly brings me to the brink. With my hands now free, I push my fingers into his hair, tugging him closer. I moan his name as he sucks my clit into his mouth, devastating the last of my self-control.
Like the crash of waves against the shoreline, a powerful orgasm washes over me, pulling me under. I ride it, my body bucking from its power, my breaths coming hard and fast until I nearly hyperventilate. When the last spasms fade, I lay flat on my back, completely exhausted, my chest heaving with each breath.
It takes several moments for the haze of my orgasm to wear off, and when I come to, Reece has already risen from the bed and is yanking off a condom I didn’t know he wore.
Irrational tears sting my eyes. Dammit. All I told him I wanted was some hot, sweaty fun. So why does his hit-it-and-quit-it mentality toward me hurt so much? Because we have a history, a deep shared connection that ended too quickly. I blink rapidly, trying to breathe deeply and calm down before I embarrass myself with a display of emotion that has no place in one of his scenes.
The faucet is running. Apparently Reece is washing his hands in the adjoining bathroom. When he emerges, he’s fully dressed. He looks cool and composed, as if nothing significant just happened between us. As if our being intimate was nothing to him.
He turns to face me, his face devoid of any emotion. “You did very well. You’ll probably be a little sore tomorrow. A warm bath with Epsom salts will help.”
I nod dumbly. I just want to be alone and try to process everything that’s just happened between us. “Can I stay?” I tug the blanket up to my chin, curling onto my side.
“Of course you can. Stay as long as you like.”
I turn away, shielding myself from the sight of him.
“Are you okay?” he asks. There’s a whisper of softness to his voice.
With tears in my eyes, I glance up and meet his worried gaze. “I’m fine.” My voice is sure and steady, even if my body is still shaking.
A few moments later, the door closes softly behind him, indicating to me that if I ever held a piece of this man’s heart, I certainly don’t now. Feelings of pain and confusion flash through me, and I hug the pillow tighter, noting his scent still lingers. Why in the world I thought this would be all fun and games, I have no clue. Reece’s rejection stings way more than Tony’s cheating ever did. I rub at an achy spot in my chest, trying to figure out what in the fuck that dull throb is coming from, and how I ended up so far over my head again.
Shit.
When I finally work up the strength to move, I get dressed and head out, hoping to get out of this club without Reece spotting me. I’ve never been good at hiding my emotions, and I’m sure my sullen mood is written all over my face.
“Macey?” A woman’s voice stops me in my tracks.
Shit. So much for escaping unnoticed.
I spin around to see Chrissy—one of the workers here—dressed in the same black lingerie as last time.
“Hello,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“Hi there. Everything okay?”
She must have noticed my attempt at making a hasty retreat. I consider shoving off and telling her I’m in a rush, but as much as I don’t want to admit it, this woman might know Reece better than I do. She could be a valuable source of information to me. And since I’m completely at a loss about what I just experienced with him, I stop and take a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves.
Taking a deep breath, I try to smile. “I’m fine, really.”
Her gaze fixes on mine and her nose crinkles. “Are you sure? I saw Reece come out of his room looking . . . upset.”
“We just . . . never mind. It’s not important.” I hate how true those words feel. In all the years I’ve known him, Reece has never made me feel as insignificant as he did just now. I blink back a fresh wave of tears.
She frowns. “You can talk to me, you know. I’ve worked here alongside him for years. I’ve gotten to know him pretty well. Maybe I can help.”
“When did Reece get that rose tattoo?” I ask.
She lifts an eyebrow, considering it. “He’s always had it. Since I’ve known him, anyway. He built the rest of his sleeve around that piece. I’ve always figured it was important to him, but ever the secretive type, he’s never dished on its significance.”
“I see.” It makes me more curious than ever.
“You guys have been spending a lot of time together. Has he finally taken a submissive?”
“No, it’s not like that. I’m new to all of this, and honestly, I was just looking to blow off a little steam. It was supposed to be three lessons, and we’ve had two.” Two insanely erotic lessons that were hot and should have been fulfilling. But they lacked any real intimacy, and have left me feeling more lost than ever.
There’s a faraway look in her eyes. It’s obvious she’s recalling some memory of her and Reece. A fond one, if the slight smile on her red-painted lips is any indicator. “Is it still true?”
“What?”
“That he only fucks in the mouth or in the ass.”
I shudder. Holy shit. That’s . . . insane, if it’s even true.
I hate that she knows so many intimate details about Reece—the man who’s grown cold and distant in the years I’ve been away. I shrug. “Maybe.” Despite that being exactly what our first two sessions consisting of, something in me doesn’t want Chrissy knowing all the juicy details. Yet there’s something more about the way she says it, as if it’s a fact that he has some weird hang-up about sex. “Why would he do that?”
She sighs. “I asked him once. In my mind, the only reasoning could be that he didn’t want to have sex where he could get a woman pregnant.”
Interesting theory.
“But he scoffed at that and said it had nothing to do with it. I guess it’s just a personal kink of his. Who knows?”
“So you and he . . .” I swallow the painful lump in my throat.
“No, not really. Nothing serious, anyway. We played a little a few years ago, but that was before I became an employee of the club. He runs a tight ship here and keeps everything professional. If you want something with him—something real—trust me, I’d never stand in your way. Besides, he doesn’t see me that way.”
It stings to know he’s treated me exactly the same as he would any submissive he took to his chambers for a session. But I’m not just any submissive. I’m not
a submissive at all. And we have a history. We should mean more to each other than that. Yet, he didn’t deviate one inch with me. For me.
At first I assumed it was because of some childish oath he made to Cameron. But now I’m beginning to see it’s because maybe it’s like Brie said—he’s been hurt and has an ironclad wall up around his heart.
I still want the same thing I did six years ago. God, have I learned nothing? Despite my tough-girl persona, I’m still every bit in love with my older brother’s, very unobtainable, best friend. Shit.
Chapter Ten
Reece
Just fucking awesome. Now Hale isn’t answering my calls, and I’m positive it has everything to do with my relationship with Macey. I just wanted to congratulate him on his engagement properly, and invite him and Brielle out for a glass of celebratory champagne. I knew he was planning to propose, and I knew Brielle would say yes, but I haven’t actually spoken to him in days. Since I’m unable to get through to him directly, I call his secretary to leave a message.
“Are you calling about tonight’s engagement party?” she asks, interrupting me.
“Yeah, I am,” I say with smug satisfaction. A sinner like me is destined for hell, anyway. What’s one more lie?
“I’ve been getting calls all day. It’s been moved to the Estate Gala ballroom due to room-size constraints.”
“And that’s at North Oaks Country Club?” I take a wild stab in the dark. It’s the nicest place in the whole city.
“Yes, sir,” she confirms.
“Great, thank you.” I hang up, fuming and in disbelief that my supposed best friend wouldn’t invite me to his own fucking engagement party. The cocksucker.
Next I call the North Oaks Country Club and find out the event begins at seven tonight. I grab the dry cleaning bag that contains my one and only suit, and toss it on the bed. Glancing at my watch, I see I’ll have just enough time to shower and pick up a suitable engagement gift, before fighting the Chicago traffic to make it there on time.
