Take Me, Sir: Billionaire's Sub Book 3

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Take Me, Sir: Billionaire's Sub Book 3 Page 11

by M. S. Parker


  I kicked off my shoes and yanked my shirt over my head. “Do you remember the safe word I gave you?”

  “Red.” She stepped out of her heels. “I'll use it if I need to,” she continued. “I trust you.”

  I covered the distance between us in two long strides and grabbed her, pulling her against my chest as I claimed her mouth. My erection pressed against her stomach through my pants, and I poured my sexual tension into the kiss. Her arms wrapped around my waist, hands moving up and down my back before dropping to grab my ass. I growled against her lips and bit the bottom one. The sound she made went straight to my cock, and I shuddered.

  When she tried to unbutton my pants, I released her, taking a step back. A surge of pride went through me when she stumbled, her expression dazed. I loved how responsive she was to me. Now we were going to see how responsive she was to the Dom in me.

  “Did I give you permission to try to take my pants off?”

  She shook her head, eyes wide.

  “Sofa.” I pointed. “Bend over the arm for your punishment.”

  She swallowed hard, and I waited to see if it was too much. Then she turned and walked over to the sofa and leaned over it, putting that delicious ass on display.

  “I'm going to spank you,” I said as I moved toward her. My hands were almost shaking, and I focused on steadying them. I'd never had such an intense, visceral reaction to a woman before.

  I stopped behind her, smiling when I put my hands on her hips, and she twitched. I slid my hands over her ass, loving the contrast between her soft skin and the thin fabric of her panties. When I hooked my fingers around the elastic, her muscles tensed, then relaxed.

  “There's a good lass,” I murmured as I eased her panties down her legs. I kissed one cheek, then the other, before helping her step out of them.

  “You get more British when you're turned on.”

  I chuckled as I stood again. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

  I unhooked the clasps of her bra and let it fall to the cushions. Her breasts hung beneath her, nipples a perfect dusky rose. I reached underneath her and pinched her nipples, making her gasp.

  “I asked a question.”

  “Good,” she said. “Definitely good.”

  “Now, let's see to that punishment.”

  I allowed myself a moment to enjoy the anticipation of what I was about to do. I might not have been her first lover, but I planned on being her first in other ways, and I would revel in every second of it.

  I started easy, a light smack that would sting a bit, but not really hurt. A second one to the other side and she shivered. I did it again, harder this time, and she made a small sound, then arched her back, pushing her ass back toward me. Two more that left pink marks on her skin.

  “Do you understand why you're being punished, love?” I asked as I smacked her ass again, her cheeks heating up beneath my palm.

  “Because I tried to take your pants off,” she said.

  Another pair of cracks hard enough to make my hand sting. “Because you didn't ask permission. I'm in charge, love.”

  I slipped my hand down between her legs, groaning as her arousal dripped onto my fingers. Some women took a while to get warmed up, and maybe what she'd watched at the club had gotten her going, but I was sure a part of it was just her.

  “When we're like this, I'm in charge of your body.” I slipped my finger into her pussy. “Of your pain.” I used my free hand to spank her hard enough to make her gasp. “Of your pleasure.” I let my finger brush over her clit, and she shuddered.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I closed my eyes. Fuck. She was such a beautifully strong woman that to hear her submit so perfectly was intoxicating. I took a step back and admired the bright pink shade of her skin as I finished undressing.

  “Come with me.” I held out a hand to her and smiled as she took it.

  Her eyes widened as I led her over to the large picture window that looked out over the city. I'd never let anyone else see her like this, but I kept that to myself for the moment and waited to see what she'd do or say next. I could see the anxiety on her face as I pressed the button to open the curtains, revealing the deep blue sky.

  “Over here, love. Hands on the glass.”

  I took her right up to the window and moved behind her so that I could see her full reflection in the glass. When she still didn't use her safe word or protest, I rewarded her by telling her the whole truth.

  “The windows are tinted so that even if someone was high up enough to see in, they couldn't see anything.” She relaxed slightly, and I kissed the side of her neck. “Don't worry, love. No one gets to see you like this but me.”

  I slid my arms around her waist, one hand going up to her breast, the other moving down between her legs. I pressed my body against hers, my cock resting at the small of her back. The skin of her ass was hot, and she hissed as I rubbed against her.

  “You're going to come on my fingers,” I said as I pushed one between her folds to find her clit. “But not until I give you permission. If you come before, we'll move to the bedroom where we'll work on your self-control as punishment.”

  “And if I'm good?” The question was breathless.

  “Then I'll take you right here, and let you come again.”

  I watched her reflection as I rolled her nipple between my fingers. Her eyes fluttered, and I began to make small circles over her clit, making her squirm against me. I tightened my arms around her, holding her in place as my fingers moved in sync with each other, one above and one below, each hand stimulating the sensitive points.

  “Don't come until I tell you, love,” I whispered in her ear.

  “How can I stop?”

  I could hear the stress in her voice and knew that she was getting close. I pinched her nipple, hard, and she cried out.

  “Do you want to please me?” I put my mouth against the place where her neck met her shoulder and sucked skin between my teeth. She moaned as I worried at the spot, marking her.

  “Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, I want to please you.”

  “Good lass,” I said. “Then I want you to think about how glad I'll be when you obey me. When you wait until I give you permission to come.”

  “I can't,” she whined, her body practically shaking as she fought back its natural impulse.

  “You can,” I said. I covered her breast with my whole hand, squeezing it until I heard her sharp intake of breath. Sometimes keeping a Sub silent was fun, but I'd always thought that when I was learning a new Sub's limits, allowing them to make as much noise as they wanted was a good way to learn what they liked and disliked.

  “Dean,” she moaned my name, her nails scraping against the window.

  “Kyndall.” I kissed her cheek. “Ask me, love. Ask me the right way.”

  “Please, Sir, may I come?”

  The response was automatic, and it took my breath away. She took my breath away.

  “Please, Sir. Please let me come. I need it. Please. Please. I'm so close. I can't. Not anymore. Please,” she begged.

  I waited one beat longer before granting her request. “Come, love.”

  Her entire body went stiff, and she let out a wail as she climaxed. I held her up when her knees gave out, keeping the hand between her legs pressed against her so that every time she moved, she created new friction against my palm, sending aftershocks through her.

  “There's a good lass,” I said, kissing the mark I'd left on her neck. “Now, it's my turn.”

  I groaned as I buried myself inside her. I wasn't going to last long, not with her pussy spasming around me like that. I grabbed her hair with the hand that had been on her breast, and she moaned.

  “You can come again whenever you want,” I said. “Because this is going to be quick. We'll take our time later.”

  She nodded, her head starting to fall forward. I yanked it back up and moved the hand between her legs so that my fingers were on her clit again. Using those two points for leverage, I pounded in
to her with deep, hard strokes meant to reach every inch of her. Her eyes met mine in our reflection, and I could see the glassy haze of pleasure that told me she was enjoying this as much as I was.

  “Come for me, love.” I scraped my teeth across her shoulder blade. “I want to feel your cunt squeeze me when I come.”

  She shuddered.

  “Be a good girl,” I moved the hand from her clit back around between us. “Come for me.”

  I pushed my finger into her ass, and she went over the edge with a scream. Her pussy clamped down around me, and I was gone. An explosion of pleasure coursed through my body, and I clutched her to me, wanting to keep us in this moment forever. It wasn't possible, I knew, but I'd take the time I had.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kyndall

  I'd been living in LA for over two weeks, I realized suddenly as I washed up the dishes I dirtied today. I'd gone grocery shopping yesterday afternoon, then spent most of this morning making meals for the week. While I had the money to eat out at nice restaurants every day, I didn't have the inclination. The occasional splurge was one thing, as was spending the money when out on a date, but I'd always preferred to make things myself. I was no chef, but I was a fair enough cook, especially when it came to eating healthy. Plus, I enjoyed it.

  I could still remember my mother and Lia in the kitchen when I was little, the two of them bonding over dinner or some special holiday cooking. I'd been too young for a long time, and then too much in the way. The few times I'd been allowed to help out, it'd been all of the mundane sort of things that hadn't really taught me much of anything.

  After living in the dorms at MIT for two years, I'd been sick enough of college food that I'd bought cookbooks, watched shows, and taught myself how to cook. My old apartment hadn’t contained a very large kitchen, but now that I was here, I intended to put this new, beautiful kitchen to good use.

  I had a dishwasher, and I used it most of the time, but today, I needed the sort of mindless monotony that came with doing some kind of work. A little over two weeks here and I felt like I hadn't really had time to take the time to settle in, to relax.

  Not that I wasn't enjoying my new life here.

  I absolutely adored my nephew, as well as my new sister-in-law. I liked Hanna and Cross well enough and knew that we'd become true friends as we spent more time together. My apartment was perfect, and I'd already made money at a game. I was sure I could find more.

  And then there was Dean.

  I couldn't think about the good parts of being here without him. He was the best part of it. An apartment. Poker. Those things I could've had back in Cambridge, or somewhere else for that matter. Dean, I knew, was one of a kind. Just like this thing between us.

  I'd never believed in luck when it came to poker, so I definitely didn't believe in it when it came to anything else in life. Being with Dean, however, made me look at things in a different light. How else was I supposed to explain all of the things that had to come into play to bring the two of us together? Coincidence? Fate? Destiny?

  Whatever it was, I was grateful for it, because things with him were going really well. I'd been wary about going on a date, and then more than a little nervous about going to the club, but both things had gone well. Better than well, actually.

  True, Dalton was still being a bit of an ass and seeing him, and Juliette at the club had been awkward, but Hanna and Cross had been nice. I hadn't really interacted with anyone else there – well, except for the redhead who'd wanted to have a threesome – but they'd all seemed relatively normal.

  What I felt wasn't normal. Or, rather, it hadn't been normal because it'd felt so normal. My whole life, I felt like I didn't fit. Not with my family, not at MIT. I'd always been too smart for most people. Too young. Too different. No one understood me, not really, and I'd never expected that anyone would.

  I hadn't realized how resigned I was to that until now. Meeting Dean had sparked something inside me, but I hadn't completely accepted it until I'd walked into the club and realized what I'd needed all this time. Always being the smartest, and usually the youngest, person had left me with something to prove, something to maintain. At the club, though, I could give it all up, and no one would think less of me. It was natural to hand over that control and allow Dean to take the reins.

  I'd gotten a glimpse of how it could be when Dean had tied my hands, but seeing the trio performing at the club had given me the courage I needed to accept what Dean was offering.

  And it'd been fucking amazing.

  The sex had been great, but that hadn't been the best part for me. That had come when I realized the relief of letting it all go, of letting Dean take care of me. When I realized that I wasn't a weak person because of it.

  That giving up control was a strength in and of itself.

  If it hadn't been for the family issues I was experiencing, I would've been on cloud nine, thrilled at the prospect of my new life here. Even if it'd only been Dalton's attitude toward Dean, I would've felt better. I had people on my side, and I was sure they would help me wear Dalton down.

  Without my brother, however, I didn't have anyone to help me out with our parents.

  I knew they weren’t happy with me moving to LA, but I hadn't realized that buying an apartment would set them off. I'd mentioned it to them in an email over the weekend, and they'd called me yesterday to tell me how irresponsible and reckless I was being. They'd actually put the phone on speaker and taken turns telling me what a bad idea it was, like some sort of surreal ping-pong match.

  By the time I'd hung up, I'd needed a couple drinks and a hot bath.

  And then phone sex with Dean.

  It'd been just as amazing as every other sexual encounter I'd had with him. Plenty of orgasms and, even better, total relinquishing of control.

  It'd helped clear my head enough to sleep, and when I'd woken up, I'd felt up to some work. Now that I was done with my cooking, it was time for me to start looking for games. I'd made enough last week to not have to worry about money for a little while, but I always liked to build up as much as I could whenever I could.

  Especially now that I wasn't sure if I was going to continue playing poker.

  I enjoyed doing it, the thrill, the challenge, but I'd been thinking about the future in new ways recently, and I wasn't sure counting cards to take money from seedy men was the best way to ensure that future.

  The problem was that I didn't really know what else I wanted to do, which meant the smart thing would be to continue playing until I'd built up enough money that I could take my time figuring things out.

  I sat down at my laptop, ready to start looking for the next game, but before I'd gotten very far, my phone rang. I frowned when Dalton's name flashed across the screen, but I picked it up anyway. No point in antagonizing him.

  “Hey.” Okay, so maybe that was a bit abrupt, but after listening to our parents for more than an hour yesterday, I wasn't feeling much of anything positive toward family at the moment.

  “Did I catch you on a break?”

  I rolled my eyes. “What do you want, Dalton?”

  “Juliette and I would like to invite you and Dean to dinner Friday night.”

  The tone of his voice told me that the invitation hadn't been his idea.

  “Really?” I asked dryly.

  “Unless you and Dean have other plans.”

  I closed my eyes and counted to five. “Do you want us to come? Or would it be easier if I gave you an excuse you could tell Juliette? The last thing I want is to make things difficult for you.”

  Silence fell, but the call hadn't disconnected. I hoped my sarcasm was soaking in. I refused to feel guilty about talking to Dalton this way. Sure, his problems with Dean weren't completely out of line for a big brother, but he'd crossed a line with his money comments, and he hadn't apologized for those yet.

  “Just tell her we already had plans,” I snapped. “We both know that's what you'd prefer.”

  “Dammit, Kyndall!”
Dalton sighed. “Just come for dinner and stop being such a brat.”

  “So, first I'm a prostitute, and now I'm a brat. Nice to know what you think of me.”

  “That's not what I...fuck!”

  “What, Dalton? What, exactly, are you trying to say?”

  He blew out a breath. “I shouldn't have said any of those things about where your money was coming from. That's your business, not mine. If you say there's no reason to worry, then I believe you.”

  “And if I don't want to tell you how I got the money?”

  A beat of silence before he answered, “Then I'll trust you to let me know if you need anything from me.”

  “And Dean?”

  Another drawn-out silence, but this time, I waited. The ball was in my brother's court now.

  “I'll work on it. Getting used to you and Dean, I mean.”

  That wasn't precisely what I was looking for, but it was better than nothing.

  “We'll be there.”

  “Six o'clock.”

  I set my phone aside, giving myself a couple minutes to think about the best way to present this to Dean. He'd tried to be nice to Dalton when we'd seen him at the club, but since then, we hadn't talked about him. How did a person start that sort of conversation?

  Hey, so I know my brother's pissed at us, but how about we talk about how we can make things better, so he doesn't freak out about the two of us having hot, kinky sex?

  Yeah, I could guess how well that would go over.

  I reached up and pulled my hair out of the ponytail I’d thrown it in earlier. I wanted to go on Friday, wanted to see if Dalton could accept Dean and me together. I wanted to spend time with my brother's family. While I needed my independence, I hadn't realized how much I'd missed family until the wedding. And Dalton had been one of the reasons I'd chosen to stay in LA rather than finding some other place.

  I rubbed my temples, the beginnings of a headache picking at the back of my brain. Most people would think that trying to have a relationship with someone like Dean would be complicated due to the different ways of looking at and experiencing sex. That, I accepted easily. The rest of it was what I found difficult. I'd heard someone say once that love was complicated and lust was simple. While I wasn't sure I wanted to use love to describe what Dean and I had, I couldn't deny that it was more complicated than simple lust.

 

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