Crusader (Impossible #9)

by Julia Sykes

  My thighs grew wet with my desire, and I knew Hugh was right. Everyone would see the glistening evidence of my arousal when he pulled away from me. The knowledge only increased my lust. My body hadn’t reacted this way in so long. It was achingly erotic.

  “Do you want to do this publicly or privately?” he asked, taking my silence as my answer.

  “Privately,” I choked out. No way was I going to submit in front of everyone. In front of Dex. What would he think of the Dominatrix being brought low?

  Just the thought made my sex clench.

  Hugh wasn’t like my Dom friends in New York. He didn’t know me as a Domme, and he wouldn’t put up with my bullshit if I tried to take back control. He wouldn’t give me the choice to do anything but accept my punishment. My heart leapt in anticipation of purifying pain.

  He released my wrists and braced one arm around my back, inexorably guiding me toward one of the private rooms. I didn’t even think to look for Dex. I was completely absorbed in the feel of Hugh’s heat pulsing over me, his strength surrounding me. He smelled like leather and kink and power.

  Within what seemed like seconds, he was closing the door to the private room behind us. He headed straight for the St. Andrews Cross. I immediately balked at the sight of the cuffs dangling from the eyebolts embedded into the black polished wood.

  The pain of the cuffs biting into my wrists. Charlotte screaming. Helpless.

  “You all right?” Hugh asked softly.

  I shook off the dark memories. “Yes,” I responded, proud my voice came out steady. “I’m just not a fan of bondage.”

  Not anymore.

  “Okay. We won’t use the restraints. How are you with a flogger?”

  Wielding one? I’m a badass. Being on the receiving end was another story entirely.

  “Fine.”

  He paused in front of the cross and stared down at me. I shifted under the weight of his scrutiny.

  “Tell me what’s wrong,” he commanded. “Are you afraid of me?”

  “No.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, forbidding.

  “Okay, a little,” I admitted. “I just haven’t scened in a while. I like to switch.”

  “Well, I’m all Top, love. There’s only one way this goes between us. We don’t have to continue if you’re uncomfortable.”

  “I want this,” I blurted, uncertain if my hastiness was a result of true desire or the necessity to keep him close until I learned more about his purpose at the club.

  He kept me fixed in his deep blue gaze. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  I hesitated. I certainly couldn’t tell him about my mission against Dimitri, but the MI5 agent was obviously skilled at detecting deception. I traded one truth for another.

  “My ex really fucked me up,” I said quietly. “I haven’t subbed for anyone since.”

  “How long has it been?” His voice was gentler now. It wrapped around me like the richest black velvet.

  “Three years.”

  He considered me for a long moment. “I won’t press you to tell me about it. It’s none of my business. But I will demand your honesty pertaining to the scene.”

  I heaved in a breath and nodded. I can do this.

  “I meant what I said before. I’m going to push you. This is a punishment. If you’re at all uncomfortable, I want you to use a safe word. Understood?”

  I wasn’t sure if I could trust myself to do that. Danny had pushed me beyond my consent so many times that I wasn’t sure I remembered how to tell when I needed to stop.

  “Yes,” I said instead of voicing my doubts. I couldn’t back out now. Not without losing my connection to Hugh. I needed to be able to keep tabs on him if I was going to find Dimitri without his interference.

  “Yes, Sir,” he corrected. “I’ll be lenient with you this time since it’s been a while for you, but don’t forget again.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The words were barely audible, but he didn’t press for more.

  The rigidity left his bearing, and he ran his fingers through my hair. “Good girl.” The sudden show of tender approval after the tension of withstanding his displeasure made my knees go weak with relief. I was grateful for his supporting arm at my waist.

  “Your safe words are amber and red,” he informed me.

  “Don’t you mean yellow and red?”

  He smirked. “Whatever you prefer, Yank.”

  “I’ll stick to what I know, thanks,” I said the final word in a sarcastic drawl.

  His hand stopped stroking and fisted in my hair. “Cheeky. Watch yourself, pet. You’re already facing a good deal of pain.”

  My lips parted, but no sound came out. I was completely entranced by his powerful bearing, and my body burned at the promise of pain. Flinty blue eyes swallowed me up, and I went soft in his harsh hold. Something hard and impressively large pressed into my hip.

  He traced the line of my lower lip. “Isn’t that pretty? If you were mine, I’d slide my cock between these lips before I whipped you.”

  An image of kneeling at his feet and taking him into my mouth filled my mind. I shuddered with fascination and a hint of fear. I hadn’t been physically intimate with anyone since my divorce. I didn’t trust myself to make that kind of connection. I suspected I would be completely at Hugh’s mercy if I allowed him to fuck me. He already held far too much power over me, and he had barely touched me.

  “Don’t worry,” he said silkily, his fingers playing through my hair again. “I don’t have sex with strangers, either. I won’t push you for anything more than what we’ve agreed to.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  He turned my body toward the St. Andrew’s Cross, and his hands slid along my arms, pulling them upward until they mirrored the lines of the cross. His palms pressed against the backs of my hands, silently instructing me to stay put.

  “Spread your legs.”

  I complied without hesitation, more at ease with him than I had been with any man in a long time. His powerful aura was intoxicating, and I didn’t even consider resistance. I momentarily forgot about my mission, allowing myself to become completely immersed in him, letting his control take hold of me. The sense of release was nearly strong enough to bring tears to my eyes, and he hadn’t even picked up the flogger yet.

  Dangerous, a little voice whispered across my mind. I couldn’t lose awareness around Hugh. I drew in a breath and gathered my wits.

  Then he causally flipped up my short lace skirt, and my tenuous control over myself receded again. Something that sounded suspiciously like a whimper teased the back of my throat. Fear-tainted lust flashed through my system, and I stiffened, remembering the last time a man had stripped me. It hadn’t been my choice.

  “You’re all right, love. We can stop any time you want. Just say the word.” Hugh’s soothing voice in my ear kept me firmly rooted in the present, and the tumultuous emotions of that night in the warehouse melted away.

  “I’m okay.” The words barely shook.

  “You’re not lying to me, are you?” he asked in a low, warning tone. “I can’t abide lies.”

  “I’m not lying,” I said more steadily. “Are you going to flog me or not?”

  “Aye, pet. It’s high time you learned your lesson. You won’t be so rude to me again. I’m going to make it so you can’t sit for a week without feeling remorseful.”

  His heat disappeared, and I shivered at the loss. I craned my neck back to see him considering the floggers that hung on the wall behind me. He selected a heavy black one, with thin, stinging falls. He whipped it out experimentally. The sound of it cutting through the air made me flinch. My whole body was drawn tight with anticipation, but all earlier hints of fear were gone. I wasn’t thinking about the warehouse anymore. All I could focus on was the dark, imposing man whose power filled the space around me. I breathed it in until my head spun with it. I was greedy for more, greedy for the absolution he could grant me through punishment.

  “Eyes forwa
rd.” The command cracked through the room. I complied immediately.

  The first blow raked across my ass, leaving fire in its wake. Bliss surged as the flare of pain gave me the punishment I craved. I deserved to be punished. For so much more than rudeness. The pain helped siphon off some of the crushing guilt I carried with me always.

  Two more hits fell in rapid succession, and a strangled cry left my lips. Encouraged by my reaction, my tormenter took up a steady, quick rhythm, landing twin blows on either cheek over and over again. The surface of my skin stung, permeating deeper to inflict a throbbing burn deep inside me. The pain wasn’t erotic. It was harsh, merciless. I had no choice but to surrender to it.

  It was exactly what I needed. A grateful sob lodged in my throat.

  The blows stopped, but the throbbing pain remained. I was thankful for its cruel heat.

  Hugh gently took my wrists and pulled my hands away from the cross. Without the support, I sagged back against him. I hissed when my burning ass rubbed against his leathers, and I couldn’t help noticing the thick bulge that persisted there.

  The world turned, and I found myself in his arms. Unlike with Dex, I didn’t feel the need to demand to be released. I didn’t feel like I had to retort that I could walk on my own. Pain still held me in its sweet grip, occupying my mind with physical sensation, blotting out unpleasant thoughts. I felt at peace.

  Hugh carried me the short distance to the couch, and he was careful not to jostle me as he sat down. He held me as though I was something fragile. And for a few beautiful minutes, I allowed myself to be fragile. I didn’t have to pretend to be unbreakable. I didn’t have to fight.

  His thumb brushed across my cheekbone, and I was shocked to realize my face was wet with tears.

  “Better?” he asked softly.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “You needed that,” he said sagely. “That’s why you were so rude to me. You were looking for someone who would treat you how you need to be treated.”

  No, I thought, coming back down to reality. I was rude to you because you were getting between me and my one shot at redemption. Your interference is stopping me from taking down Dimitri.

  “Yes,” I said instead. His version made for a better cover story.

  “Would you like to do this again?”

  “I don’t think I’d be able to walk tomorrow, much less sit.”

  He chuckled. It was the first time I’d heard him laugh. The sound rolled through me, warming my insides.

  “I don’t mean right now. I’d like to see you again. Has anyone local shown you around London yet?”

  I blinked, taken aback. This was more than I had hoped for. I hadn’t learned anything about his intentions at the club during our flogging session, but he might open up more outside of the kinky environment.

  “Are you asking me on a date?” I asked for clarification.

  His grin was a touch savage. “Yes, pet. I am. I’ll meet you at the Tower of London tomorrow at four-thirty.”

  “I haven’t said yes yet,” I pointed out, some of my usual gumption returning in response to his presumption.

  “Is that a no?”

  “No. I mean yes. That’s a yes.” I scrambled to find my composure. He ruined my attempt by laughing again. My insides turned to liquid.

  Dangerous.

  Chapter 6

  “You have got to be kidding me,” I growled under my breath. I glared at Dex’s sculpted ass as he pounded into a screaming blonde who was strapped down over a spanking bench.

  “Jealous?” Hugh asked beside me, following the direction of my gaze.

  “Annoyed,” I corrected. “He’s not supposed to be fucking random strangers.”

  “And what should he be doing at a fetish club, dare I ask?” he said slyly.

  “He should know better,” I bit out. He should be scoping out Finlay, not checking out that woman’s vagina.

  “He’s a big boy. Really, he’s a rather large man. He can make his own choices.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you admiring the view?”

  He mirrored my expression. “Are you?”

  I snorted. “Hardly.” Truth be told, Dex was kind of a magnificent specimen of a man. I could appreciate that in an objective way. Hell, I’d have to be blind not to. That didn’t mean I harbored any attraction to him. Grudging affection for him, yes. Attraction, no.

  I shook my head and looked away from the spectacle. “While we’re waiting for the Neanderthal to finish up, do you want to get a drink?”

  “Sure.” To my surprise, he threaded his hand through mine and led me toward the bar. The act was intimate, familiar. It made me tense. Flogging was one thing. Holding hands was another.

  And how messed up am I that I think getting whipped is more emotionally detached than the feel of his hand on mine?

  But if I was honest with myself, there hadn’t been anything detached about what I had shared with Hugh while he flogged me. He moved me to tears. And not in a bad way.

  I pulled my hand out of his. He frowned, but allowed it.

  When we got to the bar, he ordered our drinks – ginger beer for me, tonic for him. He seemed charmed by my selection.

  “You like ginger beer?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been trying all the English things I can since I arrived a few weeks ago. I’ve always been a bit of an Anglophile.”

  “Really?” He grinned. “You have a thing for Englishmen, then?”

  “Is it obvious?”

  “I hear Americans think our accents are terribly sexy.”

  “And I hear you’re a terribly cocky lot,” I quipped.

  He laughed. “You seem to like that part, too.”

  “Not usually.”

  “Right. I forgot you like to play Domme.”

  “I don’t play at anything,” I declared, annoyed. “I’m a damn good Top.”

  “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

  My jaw dropped. I certainly hadn’t expected that. “You would switch?”

  “God, no. I’d like to watch you with someone else.”

  Liquid heat pooled between my legs at the idea of him getting off on watching me top someone. It was the exact dynamic I used to crave. Impossibly, Hugh became even sexier in that moment.

  “I think you’d like that, too,” he rumbled, his voice deepening.

  “Maybe,” my equivocation was ruined by huskiness.

  “Having a nice chat, are we?” Finlay’s thick Scottish accent was immediately identifiable. And it held an unmistakably annoyed lilt.

  Hugh gave his partner a deadpan stare. “Yes, we are. You remember Clara. Clara, this is my friend Finlay,” he introduced unnecessarily.

  I summoned up a bright smile. “Nice to meet you.”

  His answering smile was brief. He turned his attention back to Hugh. “I thought we were sticking together tonight, mate.”

  “You and I? In your dreams,” Hugh retorted.

  Finlay glowered. “We were supposed to pull together.”

  My confusion quickly dissipated when I recalled that pull meant finding a girl to fuck.

  Hugh shrugged. “I wanted to talk to Clara on my own.”

  “And I’m not up for sharing myself with strangers, FYI,” I chimed in, although I suspected Finlay wasn’t actually talking about fucking. They wanted to corner someone in Dimitri’s organization, just like Dex and me. It seemed Finlay was the only one of us not shirking his duties.

  Unless Hugh really was trying to get close to question me, just like I’m doing to him. The thought made me inexplicably sad.

  “Clara. You disappeared on me.” Dex sounded just as annoyed as Finlay.

  I shot him a frozen glance. “You seem to have found a way to pass the time.”

  “Can we go?” He asked, not rising to my bait. “I’m wiped.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you’re exhausted after that display.”

  Hugh’s deep, rumbling laugh cut through the mounting tension. “I definitely want
to watch you top.”

  I beamed at him with genuine pleasure. “I’m game. Hand me a crop. I have a good victim in mind.”

  Dex scowled. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Too late. I already have a great mental image. What are you going to do about it, caveman?” I teased.

  I gasped when Hugh wrapped a possessive arm around my waist and pulled me against his side. “Nothing, if he knows what’s good for him.”

  Dex rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’m more than happy to let someone else keep her in line. You’re welcome to the headache.”

  “Hmmm, what do you think, pet?” Hugh mused. “Should I punish you for being rude to your friend?”

  “I think there’s been quite enough punishment for one night,” I said with a wry smile and stepped out of his grip.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow, though. Tower of London. Four-thirty.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I smirked and saluted him.

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t think being in public will spare you. I’ll bend you over a cannon and spank your arse. I’ll say it’s a historical re-enactment.”

  My sex fluttered at the prospect. “Try it and see what happens.”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  “All right, enough,” Finlay cut in. “You can flirt on your date tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, we should go,” Dex agreed.

  I nodded my assent, even though I would rather stay. Dex obviously wanted to discuss what we had found out about the two men. I recalled my suspicion that Hugh might be looking into me for more reasons than physical attraction, and my heart sank. It took effort to keep my coy smile in place.

  “See you tomorrow,” I promised.

  * * * * *

  “Could you have been more transparent?” I accused as soon as Dex closed the door to my flat behind him. “You could have at least tried to seem cordial. I doubt Finlay or Hugh will talk to you again.”

  Dex popped a French fry into his mouth from his Styrofoam fish and chips tray, appearing unconcerned.

  “I think you’re close enough to Hugh to run recon for both of us.”