Black Sheep

by Zara Cox

  I want to watch. I want to drown in the beauty of her release. But I’m at my breaking point.

  I climb up her body, barely stopping to taste her sweet nipples before I slide into her. I catch the tail end of her climax and pump through the ripples.

  Her eyes pop open, wonder bathing her face as the convulsions gather intensity again. She grips my arms, her nails digging in as her back arches off the bed. “Oh God, I’m…I’m…”

  I flick my tongue over one offered nipple, rolling the hot nub in my mouth. “You’re coming again,” I groan against her skin.

  Her mouth goes slack, and her hips jerk into my thrusts. Her climax is quieter this time but not less sublime. No less mind-fucking-blowing.

  I drop onto my elbows and tunnel my fingers into her hair, tasting her mouth as she shatters. But the more I kiss, the more I crave. The more I fuck her, the deeper my obsession grows. “Holy hell, I can never get enough of you. You’re in my head, you’re in my fucking blood. Sweet Jesus, Cleo, you’re everywhere.”

  White-hot bliss flashes across my senses. Maybe I say more, maybe I don’t. Maybe I’m spared the final defeat of spilling everything that my dark soul hides.

  All I recall is surfacing to the sweet torment of her cradled in my arms, her head on my shoulder, her hand on the inked Japanese symbol for penance.

  Her dark, solemn eyes meet mine. When I lower my mouth to hers, she receives my last kiss without hesitation. She closes her eyes. And sighs.

  I sigh too.

  Then contrary to my every expectation, I sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  RUM AND PERSPECTIVE

  Cleo

  It’s been eight days since my unforgettable first day at the Punishment Club. Eight days where I’ve been fucked, fed, pampered by invisible staff, and fucked some more.

  I’m not exactly a prisoner in the time capsule I created for myself, but there’s an unspoken message in Axel’s actions that tells me he would prefer it if I stayed put.

  It’s not a huge problem because the idea of venturing outside doesn’t entice me. New York is an electrifyingly vibrant city with humanity plugged into life at super-high-octane speed. Nothing of that appeals to me right now. I prefer my temporary world of near silence.

  Near silence and endless fucking.

  That’s our mode of communication since his earth-shattering confession. A confession that I still grapple with. With the hell I saw in his eyes when he spoke about making amends. I tell myself a symbol etched in his skin means nothing, but the strength of that belief is chipping away.

  Axel rarely sleeps. The one time he fell asleep next to me, I woke to a man caught in the vicious claws of a nightmare. One from which it’d been nearly impossible to wake him. It happened on the second night when the arms clamped around me and the sweat pouring off his body in sleep told its own story.

  Shaking him or calling his name didn’t work. So I resorted to other means to pull him from his visible torment. Did a part of me want him to remain in that nightmare?

  Maybe. Hell, I thought about it.

  But the shuddering of my heart eradicated that feisty flame of retribution. Or perhaps it was the sensation of his hot, hard body nearly engulfing mine that prompted me to act. I captured his nape and pressed my mouth to his.

  He stilled immediately, his eyes blinking open to pierce mine. I didn’t need to tell him why. And he didn’t relay his dream to me.

  Instead he took over the kiss, his sexual expertise turning disturbed dreams into carnal reality the second he rolled onto his back and arranged me on top of him. Caught in the vicious hunger that never abated in his presence, I didn’t need much encouragement to plant my hands on his chest and ride him. With my brains fucked out for a second time that night, I slept like the dead. And woke up alone.

  That set the pattern for the following days.

  Beneath the soft white linen tunic that drapes my body, my pussy throbs gently with the reminder of another charged Axel experience.

  Halfway through breakfast, he grabbed me, pushed me onto my hands and knees, tore away the silk slip covering my rear, and rammed inside me. The hard and fast animalistic coupling left me spinning, my body a useless heap on the floor. Afterwards, he dragged himself off me then spent the next hour massaging and washing me in the Jacuzzi bath. Of course, true to his word to keep me filled with him, he fucked me again the moment we got out.

  Reprieve arrived in the form of his ringing phone. The clipped conversation that followed ended abruptly with him striding for the door before he fully hung up.

  “I’ll see you tonight. We’re going out. Eight o’clock. Wear something nice,” were his terse instructions to me before he slammed the door.

  Now, after a light lunch and midafternoon nap, I enter the walk-in closet filled with brand-new clothes, a half-drunk glass of water in hand. B hit the ball out of the park with her task. Had I been in a less distressed state of mind, I would feel giddy at the beautiful creations she managed to pull together on such short notice. Jumpsuits, sexy romper suits, and cute sundresses in vibrant pastels took care of daywear. Sexy black, red and gray gowns took care of evening wear. A couple of silk nightwear pieces found their way into the collection as well, but as per Axel’s instructions, no underwear made it through.

  I move along the clothes rack, ignoring the saucy little voice inside that teases me for finding the absence of underwear surprisingly…freeing.

  Or perhaps I’m turned on by Axel’s hum of satisfaction each time he slips his hand under my clothes to fondle me and finds my bare flesh. I ignore my peaking nipples and select a black, sleeveless dress. The layered chiffon across the bodice will help hide my braless state while remaining classy. The knee-length hem will also aid in the no-flashing-private-parts area. The five-inch-wide, cinched-in waist also compliments my figure.

  I grab and set it to one side then open the shoe closet. B’s penchant for fuck-me shoes is glaringly obvious in the sky-high heels carefully arranged in color blocks. None are below four inches, with the highest scaling an eye-watering six and a half. Unless I develop a burning desire to break my own neck, there’s no way those stilettos are gracing my feet. I choose a pair of black-and-silver platform Ferragamos and move on to accessories. The silver hammered-metal choker is the obvious choice, and with my intention to wear my hair down, there won’t be a need for earrings.

  I’m finishing my water when I hear the knock.

  Apprehension sweeps through me as I set the glass down. Axel cleared the whole floor after a member accidentally knocked on my door yesterday. Unfortunately for the guy, he interrupted another prelude to mindless fucking. If B hadn’t stepped in, Axel would’ve ripped the guy’s head off.

  I approach the door with caution, keeping the chain on as I crack it open.

  B is standing on the other side, her head cocked to one side, a half smile on her face. “Hey, it’s only me. Promise, I’m harmless.”

  I don’t believe that for a second, but I pull open the door, summoning a smile of my own. But she doesn’t come in.

  “You wanna come have a drink with me?” she asks instead.

  “Uh…”

  “Come on. You’ve been cooped up in here for too long. I understand that’s probably the design but you’re allowed to play hooky once. I won’t tell the big bad wolf if you don’t. Plus, I know a really cool place.”

  “Umm…sure.” I look down at my dress. It’s a little on the short side, no longer than a big shirt, really.

  B waves a hand at me. “You don’t need to change. We’re not leaving the premises.”

  Nodding, I slip on a pair of comfortable wedges and grab the phone Axel returned to me a day after my arrival.

  Thankfully, it’s remained silent. Once Axel left me last night, I made my weekly Tuesday call and was reassured there was no change in my mother’s condition.

  I shut the door and follow B down the hallway to the elevator. Assuming we are heading down, I glance at her in surpris
e when she slides a card through the security panel and hits the button for PHR.

  We exit at the twenty-fifth floor onto a stunning roof garden, complete with a water feature, miniature palm trees, sun loungers, and an extensive bar. The space is unoccupied, save for a bartender and waiter manning the bar.

  We pass three grouped sofas before she chooses a lounge chair. I pick the seat next to her and stretch out my legs.

  After being in isolation for a week, the sunshine and fresh air are seriously awesome. I didn’t think I wanted to go anywhere in the July heat, but the sun on my skin makes me sigh. I look around, stunned at the prime space most real estate investors would pay premium dollars to inhabit.

  B slants a glance at me. “Interest you in a cocktail?”

  “Sure,” I reply with a smile.

  She nods to the bartender and holds up two fingers.

  “Is this place part of the club?” I ask.

  She nods. “Only a select few are allowed up here during the day.”

  Her answer draws my attention to her clothes. Unlike on the nights when I’ve seen her in work mode, she’s wearing dark gray palazzo pants and a white, body-hugging top. The combo shows off her toned arms and belly, with the customary stiletto pumps on her feet.

  She intercepts my scrutiny. “It’s my day off.”

  “And you’re spending it here?”

  She shrugs. “What can I say, I’m a workaholic.”

  Instinct tells me there’s more but I don’t pry.

  Our drinks arrive. I accept the brightly colored cocktail and take a sip. Rum bursts through the refreshing taste of watermelon and pineapple, and I take another greedy sip.

  B takes a few sips of hers before she glances at me.

  “So, you doing okay?”

  A part of me winces with disappointment. “I was hoping this wasn’t a pity drink.”

  She holds up one hand. “It’s not. But technically, everyone in this building is my responsibility, whether they’re special guests of the boss or not.”

  Despite her answer, I can’t help but think she has an agenda. “I’m fine.”

  Steady eyes remain on me for a long moment. “You sure? Because there’s intense relationships. And then there’s you and Axel.”

  I try a shrug. “It’s just—”

  “No honey, there’s nothing ‘just’ about it. Not if you can’t walk in a straight line in public.”

  Heat rushes up my neck into my face. A little irritated, I frown into my drink. “Why are you interested?” Was Axel lying when he said he and B were strictly business?

  I stare at the brunette, trying to get a read on her.

  She takes a sip of her drink, her eyes on me. “Don’t try and figure me out, darling. Many have tried and failed.”

  “I’m not surprised. You’re…intriguing.”

  A smile flashes across her face, gone too soon, but not before I glimpse the stunning beauty of the carefully practiced badass demeanor. “Thanks, I try. And for your information and peace of mind, should you need it, no, Axel and I aren’t sleeping together. Never have. Don’t intend to.”

  A tight knot I was refusing to acknowledge eases in my gut. Enough to loosen my tongue. “Has he…done this before?”

  She gives me a wry smile, despite the flash of sympathy I see in her eyes. “Sorry, honey. Cut me open and I bleed discretion. But I will say this. Axel likes his boxes. He keeps you here in this particular box for that reason.”

  I frown. “But I’m the one who created this one.”

  “Sweetheart, we both know who’s in control here. If it didn’t suit his purpose, you wouldn’t still be here. I take it that room you re-created means something to you both? But something not altogether good for you, I’m guessing?”

  She’s ace at withholding stuff about herself while pumping me for info. I shouldn’t indulge her. And yet I find myself nodding. “Yes.”

  “So he’s enduring your punishment with you?”

  I startle. Then frown. “I…I guess so.”

  “He owns the club. He could’ve moved you to any of two dozen other suites. He didn’t.” She keeps her eyes on me as she sips her drink.

  I’m going to make amends, Cleo.

  On the grand scale of wrongs that needed righting, this is a drop in the ocean. And yet the idea that Axel—despite his clear displeasure upon seeing the room—didn’t move me is disconcerting.

  I don’t want to think about that while the woman with shrewd eyes continues to stare at me.

  “Can we talk about something else?” I say.

  She shrugs with effortless ease. “Sure, how about them Yankees?”

  I laugh then glance at her sky-high heels. “How about them neck breakers?”

  She laughs. The mood lifts. I decline another cocktail and settle for a soda on the next round. We spend another hour and a half on the roof bar before I head back downstairs. She leaves me at the door, and when I shut it behind me, I lean against it with a frown.

  The swiftness with which my heart leapt at B’s conclusion still worries me. What kind of person am I to be grasping at the flimsiest excuse to absolve a heinous crime?

  And the sheer delight that stains my bloodstream every time he touches me?

  What about telling me he won’t let me return to Finnan? Did he mean forever? Or until he’s done with me?

  I drag myself from the door, my thoughts spinning in wild circles.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  ATONEMENT: PART TWO

  My thoughts are still spinning when Axel enters the dressing room just after seven thirty. My hands freeze as I’m slipping on the choker, and he stumbles to a halt.

  “Fuck, you look incredible.” The hoarse words burst from him, his eyes raking me with feverish intensity as he prowls forward.

  “Thank you,” I murmur. Through the mirror, my own gaze absorbs the animalistic dominance that seems infused into his drop-dead-sexy body. Dressed in a black dress shirt and pants, with a superbly cut jacket thrown over the ensemble, the figure he cuts is captivating, guaranteed to turn heads everywhere. Couple that with the stubble he’s maintained all week—on account of it driving me wild when he grazes my inner thighs with it—and the lightly gelled slicked-back look he’s sporting now, and I fear brain damage if I look too long at him. It’s how every woman out there will feel too when they look at him. I hate the dart of anxiety that accompanies the thought.

  I hold my breath as he steps behind me and brushes my hands away to secure the choker. Then his hands drift over my shoulders to caress my bare arms. Beneath the chiffon, my nipples tingle and stand to attention, their shameless craving echoing throughout my body.

  His hooded gaze locks on mine. “You ready?”

  I nod.

  Still keeping his eyes on me, he drops a kiss on my jaw then lower. My last-minute decision to wear my hair up gives him free rein over my neck.

  I’m not surprised when he leans down and runs his nose along the curve of my shoulder, scenting me long and deep. Then his head snaps up, and our eyes clash in the long mirror. “You showered.”

  “Yes.” My voice is already a breathy mess, and he’s been in the room less than five minutes.

  “So you’re empty?” Anticipation throbs through his voice.

  The urge to shout yes shocks me beyond measure. Thankfully, insane chemistry takes over, and I lose the power of speech as his hands drop to mold my hips. He rocks his hips into me, and my ass cradles the rod of his thick erection.

  “Have you been waiting for me to come back and fill you up, baby?” he whispers in my ear. One hand creeps beneath my skirt, and his fingers unerringly find my center. In the mirror, I catch the reflection of my engorged clit, already screaming for attention. “Have you?” he probes.

  “Yes.”

  He cups me harder, his whole hand working me into a frenzy. My knees weaken, and my hands land on the mirror to stop myself from falling.

  “Christ, look at you. I want nothing more than to fuck you
senseless right now. But we need to go.” With one last rub, he removes his hands.

  My mouth drops open in shock. He’s leaving me like this? “Axel…” His name is dangerously close to a whine. And I’m not even ashamed.

  “I know, baby.” He drops another kiss on my temple. “I’ll make it up to you later.” He removes a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes my essence off his fingers before he laces them with mine. “Let’s go. Now, before I change my mind.”

  I want to say that he’s free to change his mind but I’m suddenly plagued with the need to see Axel outside of this place. I want to see the man others see, to view how he interacts with others besides B.

  What I’m hoping for with that, I’m not sure.

  We pass B in the lobby. Her gaze drifts over me before she smiles and nods approvingly.

  Axel’s car is waiting in the underground garage but he bypasses it and heads for a limo idling a few spots away. He reads my surprise and shrugs. “I’m not in the mood to drive tonight.”

  The moment we slide into the sumptuous seats and the door shuts, I know why. I’m in his lap before the car hits street level.

  A thorough kissing session later, he lifts his head. “Did you enjoy your drinks with B this afternoon?”

  My eyes widen. “You know.” Of course he does.

  “She mentioned it.”

  His gaze demands an answer. I shrug. “It was fine.”

  “Just fine?”

  “You want to know if we talked about you?”

  One brow lifts.

  “You may have come up in conversation for a minute.”

  A slight tension seizes him. “Anything I should know about?”

  I recall my conversation with B and struggle to keep a neutral expression. “Only if you’re interested in female gossip.”

  He stares at me for a handful of charged seconds before he takes my mouth again. When we part, he rests his head against the seat and slides his thumb over my bottom lip. “What’s going on between us is no one else’s business, Cleo.” His words hold a clipped warning.