by M. S. Parker
I had no fucking idea.
I'd just undone my belt, flicked open the button of my slacks, and was ready to step into the bathroom when someone knocked on my door. I sighed, running my hand over my hair as I walked back over to it. I hadn't ordered any room service or anything like that, but the hotel had occasionally sent some perks up to me over the past six months, and some expensive alcohol sounded good at the moment.
Except when I opened the door, it wasn't a hotel employee standing on the other side, staring at my bare chest.
“Kyndall.”
“Can I come in?” She still wasn't looking at my face, but her eyes had moved away from my torso to some fixed point behind me.
“Of course.” I stepped back, my answer and actions coming before any true consideration of what I should say or do.
Dalton had told me to stay away, but she had come to me. She was an adult, and this was her choice. I wouldn't pressure her into anything. Besides, she looked like she could use a friend, and while I wasn't sure I really counted as one, she must have thought of me like that in some way since she was here.
These were all the things I told myself as I closed the door and followed her farther into the room.
“Did you tell Dalton that you and I slept together?”
Her question had an edge that told me my answer would shape the way everything between us went from here.
I gave her the truth. “I told him that you were an adult and that if you wanted him to know anything about your personal life, you would tell him.”
She nodded, her lips pressed together in a straight line. I took a step toward her, my hands clenching into fists so I wouldn't touch her. I wanted to be closer to her, comfort her, but I was going to stick with my decision to let her make a move here. I couldn't bring myself to walk away, but I could at least give Dalton this: I could let it be her choice.
She ruffled her hair in the sort of absent-minded way that told me it was a nervous gesture. “I babysat for Dalton and Juliette tonight. When I got to their place earlier, Dalton said something about me going on a date with a guy Juliette knew.”
The stab of jealousy I felt surprised me, but I didn't say anything. She had a story to tell and I was going to let her.
“I told him that I'd already met someone,” she continued. “He kept pushing until I said it was you. He told me that you were too old and too experienced for me.”
She finally looked straight at me. Shit. That wasn't a conversation I wanted to have right now, but I could at least get one question out of the way, especially since it was one I'd been turning over in the back of my head since I found out who she was.
“I'm thirty-one.”
She nodded but didn't freak out. “Twenty-two.”
Okay, a bit younger than I usually went for, but not jailbait. If it didn't bother her, then I didn't care either. I braced myself for the next inevitable question, but it didn't come.
“I pretty much blew him off after he and Juliette left, but then they came home and the shit hit the fan.” She sat down on the loveseat. “He wanted to know if we'd slept together, and then asked if you'd given me money.”
“What the hell?” I couldn't stop myself. What had Dalton been thinking, asking his sister something like that?
“Yeah, that was pretty much my response,” she said dryly. “When I told him he was being an asshole, he told me that he didn't want me earning money by doing something I'd regret.”
“Wanker,” I muttered.
She laughed at that, but it wasn't a happy laugh. “It gets better...or worse, I guess, depending on how you look at it. How he said it...Juliette had been pissed at him when they got home. I got the impression that she'd been trying to tell him that what I did was none of his business, and he didn't agree.”
I nodded, remembering how Juliette had been at the club.
“But when he said that...she snapped. Started in on him about how she'd made extra money before they'd started dating, and it turned into a big fight.”
Shit. It was suddenly hard to breathe. Neither Juliette or Dalton had ever mentioned that Juliette used to work at the S&M club, but when Cross told me how he and Hanna had met, he'd included that Juliette had been a well-known dominatrix. Had Dalton told Kyndall that particular detail?
I knew I should be thinking about the big picture here, but that question wouldn't go away. What did Kyndall know, and how did she feel about it? It was self-centered of me to be wondering in the context of how she'd see me rather than her sister-in-law, but the thought was there, and I couldn't shake it.
“I'm trying to wrap my head around all of it,” she admitted. “My sister-in-law used to supplement her income by being a dominatrix, and based on the last thing Dalton said to her before I left, he's a Sub. I might not know everything about what that means, but I'm not so naive that I don't know at least the general gist of it.”
I sat down next to her, close enough to smell the baby shampoo she must've used to bathe Anthony a few hours ago, but I still didn't touch her. I needed to know where this was going first. I wanted her, but if she couldn't accept Juliette and Dalton, I wouldn't press any further. A fling without venturing into that aspect of my life was one thing. This was different.
“They said they were at a club tonight. A club that Dalton freaked out about when I mentioned maybe wanting to go sometime.”
My fingers tightened on my knees at the thought of her at the club. With me. Wearing something sexy, but not so revealing that others could see what was only for my eyes. Watching her take in the sensuality, the decadence, of my world. The jealousy from every other Dom there because they knew they couldn't have her.
“At the time, I thought he was just being a typical big brother, but now, I think he didn't want me there because of the kind of club it was.”
I waited to see if she'd put the last piece of the puzzle together, my heart pounding against my ribs.
Her eyes met mine. “If I ask you a question, will you give me an honest answer?”
I could feel us walking a fine line here, and one wrong move would tip us over the edge. I was determined that it wouldn't happen, not if I could prevent it. “I will.”
“Do you and Dalton and Juliette belong to an S&M club?”
“That's the general term for it, yes.”
She didn't say anything at first, but I let her have the time she needed. I wasn't sure what moving forward with her would be like, but I knew that if she was open to it, I wanted to keep seeing her, and the idea of being able to include her in this part of my life was too appealing to deny.
“What does it mean?” she asked finally. “I mean...what are you...what does...oh, fuck, I have no clue how to ask any of it.”
“I'm a Dom.” I kept it simple. “Dominant, like Juliette.”
“And my brother's a Sub?”
I nodded. “Submissive.” A line creased between her eyebrows as she frowned. I guessed at what she was thinking, “It's not a male / female thing. It's just who a person is. In the time I've known Dalton and Juliette, I've seen how they're complete equals in everything else. Their Dom / Sub relationship is sex only. Some couples take it further than that, but they don't.”
A faint blush stained her cheeks. “Do you?”
I allowed myself a smile. “I can be a bit...alpha male, but I don't enjoy controlling all aspects of a Sub's life. I don't even have to have it all the time in sex.”
Her flush deepened. “But you like it.”
“I do,” I answered honestly.
“What parts of it?” She shifted so that her knee brushed against mine. “What are the things you like to do?”
I swallowed hard. I wasn't sure I could have this conversation with her like this. I was all too aware that I wasn't wearing a shirt and my pants were already unbuttoned. My self-control was already stretched thin.
“I'm not hardcore, if that's what you're asking.” I could hear my accent getting thicker. “I like a little pain to intensify things, bu
t I'm not a sadist or a masochist. Some bondage, but nothing too extreme.”
“Is that why Dalton said you were too experienced?”
I nodded. “I believe so.”
Her gaze turned inward, as if she was coming to some sort of decision, and then she looked at me. “What if I said that didn't scare me? Any of it. Not your experience, not what you like.”
Then I was fucked.
“Your brother told me to stay away from you.” I let the statement hang between us. She deserved to know before she made any sort of decision.
Her hand covered mine, the touch burning me. Slowly, she raised our hands and kissed the tips of my fingers, my palm. “I don't care.”
Her lips were soft beneath mine, her skin soft as my hand slid around her waist, fingers skimming just under her shirt. She leaned into the kiss, but let me control it. I didn't know what would happen tomorrow, but tonight, if she wanted it, I intended to show her what it meant to be dominated. Nothing too kinky, but enough that she'd understand who I was.
I buried my hand in her hair, cupping the back of her head to hold her in place as I deepened the kiss. My tongue swept over hers, plundered her mouth, possessed it. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, as if I had any intention of going somewhere.
I turned us so that she was leaning back enough for me to get her shorts unbuttoned and unzipped. I wasn't going to fuck her here, but I needed to see her come. Now. She made a startled sound as I slid my hand under the waistband of her panties.
“Open your legs,” I whispered against her lips.
She obeyed without hesitation, and my cock hardened. As my fingers moved lower, I took her bottom lip between my teeth, worrying at it before drawing it into my mouth. I licked and sucked at the soft flesh even as I slipped a finger between her lips. Her body jerked the moment I touched her clit, and I knew it wouldn't take much to get her off.
“You're so fucking responsive,” I said as I released her mouth. As much as I loved kissing her, I wanted to watch her come more. “I want you to come for me, love.”
I moved my finger over and around the little bundle of nerves. I dropped a bit to gather some moisture but didn't penetrate her. I'd take my time with her later. Right now, I wanted a quick orgasm to remind her how well I knew her body, even after such a short time.
“Let go, Kyndall.” I let my voice shift into the authoritative tone I used with Subs.
She raised her hips, telling me without words that she didn't want me to stop. I increased the pressure on her clit, earning a sharp cry from her. Her nails raked across my chest, and I hissed, the sting of pain making my cock press against the front of my pants.
“I want to see you come, love.” I could feel her body tensing. “I know you want to. Let me take you there. Come for me, beautiful. Show me how much you want my touch.”
A shudder ran through her.
“There you go, sweetheart. Give yourself to it. Let go. I have you.”
She cried out, body tensing, and I watched the pleasure wash over her face. She curled in on herself, trapping my hand between her legs, the movement rubbing my finger against her clit again.
“Dean!”
A second climax hit her, and I wrapped my other arm around her, holding her tight as her body shook. I couldn't help but think of how perfectly she fit there.
“That's it, love. I've got you.” I kissed the top of her head. “You're fucking gorgeous when you come.”
A few minutes passed as I felt her breathing slow, her body relaxing against my chest. Finally, she lifted her head, face flushed.
“Will you take me to bed?”
I didn't even hesitate. “Hell, yes.”
Chapter Twelve
Kyndall
I still wasn't entirely sure why I'd gone to Dean, but as he picked me up and carried me back to the bedroom, I was glad I had. Not having things between Dalton and me resolved left me feeling restless. His accusations and assumptions hurt. If I'd gone back to my apartment, I wouldn't have been able to sleep or concentrate on anything, and I would've been tempted to go up one floor and have it out with him. Or maybe I would've gone out and found a game, let the numbers clear my head.
But I hadn't gone to find a game.
I'd gone to him.
I hadn't even really thought about it. I'd given the cabbie the hotel's address. Taken the elevator to the penthouse. Knocked on the door.
I'd almost been surprised to see who'd opened it. And only some of that had been because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. I hadn't expected him to invite me in, and I definitely hadn't thought he'd answer my questions so honestly. I didn't know what this thing was between the two of us, but it was what I needed right now.
“We can have regular sex, if that's what you want,” he said as he sat me down on the bed. His eyes practically glowed as they met mine. “But I'd love to give you a taste of my world.”
Desire twisted my stomach, made my heart beat faster. He would accept whatever my decision was, and we'd go from there, but I knew if I told him that I didn't want to have anything to do with his world – with the world my brother and sister-in-law inhabited – then this would likely be as far as things went between us.
Besides, the thought of finding out what it meant to have Dean dominate me...
Fuck.
“A taste?” My voice wasn't as steady as I would've liked, but it wasn't nerves that made it shake. Or, at least, not completely nerves.
That beautiful mouth curved into a smile that made my panties even wetter than they already were.
Well, shit.
Ten minutes later, my clothes were on the floor, Dean was kneeling over me, and I was wondering just what I'd gotten myself into. He was still wearing a pair of jeans that hung so low on his hips I could see those deep, sexy grooves, and the trail of dark curls that all led to the same lickable place.
He pulled his belt from its loops, and I stiffened. He'd said a taste, but now I wasn't so sure that was a good idea.
“Dean...”
He reached down to take my hand. “I'm not going to use it on you. Not in the way you think.” He made a loop with his belt and slipped it over my hand. “Not yet, anyway.”
I wasn't sure if he meant it as a warning or a promise, but judging by the heat that washed over me, I knew that my body wanted it to be a promise.
He made a sound that was half-growl, half-groan. “Damn, I love when your skin flushes like that.” His expression grew serious. “Are you certain this is what you want?”
I raised my other hand, offering it to him. “Please.”
He kissed the palm, then slid my hand to join the other. “Do you know what a safe word is?”
“In theory.”
“Red,” he said. “If you need me to stop, if it's too much, say red.”
I nodded, my pulse skipping a beat as he leaned over me, taking my hands with him. I couldn't see what he was doing, but when he sat back on his knees, my arms were stretched above my head, fastened to the headboard. It wasn't tight enough to hurt, but definitely too snug for me to slip out of them easily.
“The most important part of this life is trust.” He ran his hands up my calves, his voice low and even, almost hypnotic. “For a Dom, it's trusting the Sub to stop things before they go too far. For a Sub, it's trusting the Dom to read their body, to know how to push limits, and to stop when a safe word's used.”
His fingers skimmed my thighs, up over my waist and ribs. He palmed my breasts, flicking his thumbs across my nipples. I squirmed as they pebbled. I hadn't realized what a difference it would make, not being able to move my hands. Before, when I kept my hands above my head, I'd still known I could move, that I was responsible for staying still.
Now, however, I wasn't in control.
Except, I supposed, based on what Dean had just said, I actually was. Sort of. It was all very confusing.
Dean leaned down suddenly and bit my breast.
“Fuck!” I jerked. “What the hell, Dean?”
He grinned at me. “You're thinking far too hard, love.”
“So you bit me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did I hurt you?”
I scowled at him but shook my head. “Not really.”
“Excellent.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across mine. “Because some people might not bite...but I rather enjoy it.”
A shiver ran through me. “Good to know.”
His mouth and hands began to move over my body, touching and teasing every inch of exposed skin – except the place I wanted him most. I cursed and writhed as little sparks of electricity danced across my nerves, but he never stopped. He seemed determined to taste all of me, and unless I used the safe word he'd given me, he wasn't going to stop until he was done.
Still, I begged.
“Please, Dean, please. Fingers, mouth, I don't care. Just please.”
“Where do you want my fingers and mouth?” He kissed just below my belly button.
I glared at him. “I'm not one of those women who has issues with talking about sex.”
“So do it then,” he dared. His thumbs caressed my inner thighs. “Tell me where you want me to touch you.”
I gave him a snarky smile. “A little farther north.”
He chuckled, the sort of rich, sexual sound that made my stomach clench. “Say it, love, or I won't do it.”
I doubted a Sub was supposed to tease a Dom, but I was still me, no matter how much I wanted him. “Do you prefer correct anatomical terms? Or do you like pussy? Cunt? Or is there some weird British term you want me to use?”
He laughed again. “Love, you are something else.” He ran a finger down my slit. “Use whatever word you're comfortable using.”
My eyelids fluttered as his knuckle brushed over me again. “Just touch me, please, Dean.”
“Touch what?”
“My pussy! Dammit! Whatever the hell you want to call it!”
