by Erika Wilde
A rush of moisture dampened her panties at his dominant tone. She was well aware of his adept abilities to bend her to his will, along with his wicked methods of coercion. He was the only man who could make her melt and surrender anything and everything to him . . . every damn time.
“So, let’s clear up this little misunderstanding right now, shall we, and remind you precisely who’s in charge.”
“Yes, sir,” she acquiesced, her voice soft and demure.
“Much better,” he said, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “Such a hard decision of what to do with you. Do I force you to your knees and make you suck my cock until your red lipstick is smeared all over my dick and I come down your throat?”
The filthy suggestion sent a surge of heated arousal through her veins. She loved giving Mac head. Loved the sensation of her lips sliding along his smooth cock as he watched her swallow every inch of him. Loved licking and stroking his length with her tongue until he shuddered with need. And ultimately, she loved having that small bit of control over his pleasure as she finally made him splinter apart with the force of his release.
However, she also knew how rough he liked to get sometimes during oral, how hard and deep he preferred to fuck her mouth, and she didn’t have time to redo her hair and makeup. “As much as I would love to suck your cock, sir, your hands will be in my hair and I spent a small fortune getting it styled this afternoon, and it’ll take no time at all for you to wreck it.”
“I want to fucking wreck you,” he growled darkly, and grabbing the hem of her tight dress, he yanked the skirt part up to her hips, making her gasp as cool air feathered across the warm, damp arousal already soaking the front panel of her thong.
His hot, lust-fueled gaze bored into hers. “I am going to wreck you,” he promised. “If not your mouth, then your tight pussy. I want everyone to know, when you walk into the club, that you’ve been thoroughly fucked and pleasured. I want everyone to know you’re mine.”
His confident words rendered her so breathless she couldn’t speak, but her body responded, her sex pulsing and aching for all that he promised.
He stepped back a few inches. “Turn around, brace your hands on the dresser, and spread your legs,” he ordered.
She obeyed, flattening her palms on the smooth wooden surface, giving him a view of her bare ass bisected by her red lace thong.
He groaned but didn’t deliver the stinging smack to her bottom she was hoping he would. “I want to see your tits bounce while I fuck you.”
She swallowed back a moan. Jesus, he was so obscene, direct, and lewd when they were alone together—a complete contradiction to the perfect gentleman he was outside of the bedroom, which made the switch to demanding alpha all the more thrilling.
Reaching for the zipper at her back, he dragged it down and pulled the sleeves lower, to her elbows. The dress had a built-in bra, and her breasts swayed free, her nipples already furled into tight points.
“You are fucking gorgeous,” he muttered in a husky tone, and brought his hands around, palming her breasts before pinching and tugging on the sensitive tips until she whimpered from the pleasurable pain he’d inflicted.
He was still wearing his pants, but feeling the nudge of his erection against the crease of her ass, she felt compelled to remind him of their pact before it was too late. “You need a condom.” Not because they were concerned about birth control. No, it was the one rule she’d established after she’d moved in with Mac, that if he wanted to fuck her right before they went out together for the evening—and he usually did—then he had to wear a condom so she wasn’t a mess the rest of the night.
“Are you issuing orders again?” His authoritative tone rasped against her ear from behind as he tweaked her nipples again, hard enough to make her gasp. “I’m thinking I’d much rather fuck you bare so that you’ll walk into The Players Club with the scent of me on your skin and the slick feel of my come along the insides of your thighs.”
Her pussy throbbed shamelessly, and a whimpering sound escaped her throat. She was beyond questioning why such a filthy statement could make her hotter and wetter than she already was, so she swallowed and added a very soft, submissive “Please, sir,” to her request.
She saw his satisfied smile in the mirror in front of her. “Only because it’s your birthday, I’ll make wearing a condom your one concession right now. However, just keep in mind that you will be punished later this evening for making any kind of demands when I’m in charge.”
She licked her bottom lip, already anticipating his decadent form of discipline. “Yes, sir.”
Briefly leaving her, he went to the nightstand and retrieved a condom while she waited dutifully for him, ass up, tits out, and beyond eager for him to fuck her.
He returned a few moments later and set a familiar velvet box on the dresser, one that contained her favorite pink hand-blown glass anal toy—and one of the larger ones in their collection that Mac used when he wanted to stretch her for the eventual invasion of his dick there. Then, he stood behind her, out of direct view, but the motions and sounds of him unbuckling his belt made her stomach quiver, along with the crinkling of foil and Mac’s deep male grunt as he sheathed his cock with the rubber. Hooking his fingers into the sides of her thong, he pushed the scrap of material down until it fell around her heels.
“Get them off,” he ordered gruffly, and she immediately kicked the panties aside.
His hand gripped the inside of her right thigh, and he lifted her leg so that her knee was resting on the dresser, effectively spreading her wide open for him.
Two fingers traveled down the crack of her ass and slid along the drenched folds of her sex, spreading her flesh and caressing her clit much too softly, deliberately playing with her and making her beyond needy. She tipped her head back and moaned, then sucked in a sharp breath as he speared those same two fingers deep inside her, pumping them in and out and stroking that patch of sensitive flesh along her inner wall until she was gasping and close to tumbling over the edge into oblivion.
Right when she was on the precipice of pleasure, he withdrew, and she cried out at the loss.
From over her shoulder, Mac smirked at her.
“Really?” she said, letting her annoyance slip through. “Orgasm denial on my birthday?”
He chuckled wickedly and didn’t reprimand her for her irritable tone as he removed the lid from the velvet box and picked up the sizeable glass toy. “Imagine how fucking good it’s going to be when I allow you to come.”
Reaching around her, he put the bulbous plug to her lips. “Suck it,” he ordered, pressing the object into her mouth and not giving her a choice. “Make it good and wet so it slides into your ass nice and easy.”
The cool glass knob slid along her tongue, and he pushed it all the way in until the smooth rounded tip hit the back of her throat and the pretty flowered base touched her lips. Watching her in the mirror, he fucked her mouth with the sphere a few times, until he was satisfied with how the glass glistened with her saliva.
“This is to get you ready for what’s going to happen later tonight, and a little added pleasure to me fucking you now,” he told her.
With her legs still spread, he had easy access to her back entrance, and he guided the large plug into her ass, gradually increasing the pressure past the initial resistant ring of tight muscles, then deeper still. When the entire toy was seated all the way in, she moaned at the fullness, knowing she was going to feel even more overwhelmed once Mac penetrated her, too.
Rubbing the tip of his cock through the wetness between her legs, he notched the head against her slick opening, grabbed her hips to hold her steady, and without any other warning, he drove into her all the way to the hilt, until there was nowhere left to go. Despite the dresser being anchored to the wall, the force and depth of that initial thrust made everything on top rattle.
Mac groaned as her body instinctively tightened around him, and he didn’t give her much time to catch her breath before he was f
ucking her the way he liked best, each deep, vigorous stroke backed with power and ruthless precision. He was not a man with a small dick, and between his thick cock and the anal toy, she felt completely consumed by him and the way he filled her, again and again.
While he’d once feared his intensity and aggression would scare her, he’d come to discover that she enjoyed his uncivilized possession of her body just as much. The merciless sensation of being claimed. Being his to do with as he pleased. And how his lust and desire for her escalated her own gratification.
“Put your hand between your legs and rub your clit while I fuck you,” he ordered brusquely, his gaze on her bare, bouncing breasts in the mirror. “Do not come until I say you can.”
She didn’t hesitate to eagerly follow his command, her fingers sliding along her sex to gather moisture, then coming back to circle the taut flesh, already sensitive to the touch. Between her already being on edge and the rapid-fire pump of Mac’s hips against her ass from behind, her arousal climbed so fast her legs began to quiver and she had to lift her fingers from her clit so she didn’t disobey him and come too soon.
He kissed the back of her neck and licked along her bare shoulder. “Are you ready, baby?”
Her whimper was filled with a wealth of need. “Yes, please.”
“Soon,” he teased, forcing her to keep her orgasm at bay.
He nipped at the side of her throat above the choker, then took her delicate skin between his teeth, exerting just enough pressure to make her gasp in protest when she realized what he intended to do. He was going to mark her.
“Brent, no,” she pleaded, to no avail.
Eyes on hers in the mirror, he ignored her objection and bit down harder and sucked, the slight sting making her cry out and buck her hips back against his, which only drove him deeper and made him grunt in satisfaction.
“You. Are. Mine.” Each word was punctuated with a hard, jarring, impaling thrust inside her. “And now, everyone will know it.”
She was so overwhelmed by all the sensations battering her, she could only manage a soft moan of agreement as she put her fingers to her clit again, her need to climax beyond her need to breathe.
Mac couldn’t pull her hair since she’d worn it up, so he instead wrapped his hand around her neck and gripped her hip with his other fingers, holding her right where he wanted Stephanie while he wrecked her in the most exquisite way imaginable—taking her deeper, faster, hotter, higher—creating a swell of desire that was so enormous she could barely contain it.
“Come for me,” he ground out, giving her the permission she desperately needed to end her own sensual torment. “Let me feel how much your tight, eager pussy needs this. How much it needs me.”
Her fingers moved faster over her clit, harder, and her orgasm crested in a burst of pleasure that had her crying out and surrendering to the ecstasy pulsing through her entire body. Those internal muscles convulsed around Mac’s hard flesh, gripping and squeezing his cock with each thrust, until his own restraint finally shattered.
He came with a deep, unraveling groan that was like the most seductive music to Stephanie’s ears because it meant this always-composed, in-control man had one weakness. Her.
Chapter Three
They were forty minutes late to The Players Club and the small, intimate party Mac had arranged in the lower-level VIP lounge of the mansion. As soon as they walked into the area that was cordoned off with a red velvet rope and a sign that said PRIVATE PARTY, Kendall and Paige whisked Stephanie over to a high-top table where the rest of her friends were waiting, along with a bottle of champagne and empty glasses to be filled.
Not surprisingly, it appeared the men had gathered in conversation on one side of the room, and the women had formed their own group on the other, and Mac let Stephanie go and visit with her friends. For now, this birthday celebration was for Stephanie to enjoy. To be the center of attention before she was his, alone, for the rest of the night.
Mac watched as Jillian popped the cork on the bottle of champagne and filled the flutes. The six women raised and clinked their glasses together in a toast, took a drink, then chatter and laughter ensued. He saw Raina touch the side of Stephanie’s neck and raise a speculative brow as she said something to Mac’s fiancée, who issued some kind of reply as she cast a playfully accusing look over her shoulder at him.
The girls must have guessed why she was late, not that he gave a fuck. Instead, he graced the ladies with an unrepentant grin, confirming what they were all assuming. That he’d had his wicked way with the birthday girl.
Dean Noble—his business partner, best friend since the military, and Jillian’s husband—approached him with two lowball glasses with about an inch of dark liquor in each, one of which he handed to Mac.
The other man shook his head in mock disbelief, even as his gaze glimmered with humor. “Jesus, you couldn’t wait just a little while longer to get your dick in your fiancée so she could at least be here on time for her own party?”
Mac took a sip of his Crown Royal. “What makes you think my dick is the reason we’re late?” It was a moot question, considering over the course of nearly twenty years, Dean had seen Mac at his best and his worst, and yeah, he’d easily recognize the signs that Mac had taken advantage of Stephanie just a short while ago.
Dean casually swirled the liquor in his glass. “Let’s see . . . first, there’s that cocky, satisfied look on your face that’s a dead giveaway. Add to that the blush on Stephanie’s face when you walked in more than just fashionably late, and then there’s what appears to be a fresh bite mark on her neck that even the other girls have noticed. So yeah, I’d say your unruly dick got the best of you.”
“Jealous?” Mac asked in a smug tone.
Dean shook his head, amusement sliding across his features. “Hell no, I’m not jealous. Not even a little. You weren’t the only one to get some action before getting here.”
Mac arched a brow. “Yet you deem it necessary to give me and my dick a hard time.”
“That’s because I at least managed to be on time,” his friend pointed out.
After tossing back the last of his drink, Mac smirked at Dean. “Sounds like one of us has more stamina than the other.”
Dean burst out laughing, taking no offense to Mac’s implied insult. “You are so fucking full of yourself.” He took another sip of his whiskey, his curious gaze traveling to Stephanie, surrounded by her friends. “So, does the birthday girl have any idea what she’s in for tonight?”
While Dean knew about the custom piece Mac had commissioned from one of their mutual acquaintances who created furniture and other depraved gadgets for sexual pleasure, his friend had no idea that Mac was having second thoughts about the illicit apparatus he’d bought for Stephanie.
Mac exhaled a deep breath. “She doesn’t have a clue.”
His friend gave him an envious glance. “Should be a fun evening, for both of you.”
That’s what Mac hoped, but he couldn’t stop the bit of anxiety that stirred in his stomach, and he suddenly wished for a refill on his Crown Royal but instead set his empty glass down on a nearby table. No matter what he might crave to settle his own uncertainties, he gave himself a one-drink limit when he intended to play with Stephanie. His aggressive inclinations required his mind to be completely present and in the moment to gauge her level of desire when he held all the control during their scenes together, and he’d never risk her safety for an extra shot of whiskey.
But he’d be lying if he said that this evening’s surprise for Stephanie didn’t have him feeling uncharacteristically nervous, which happened when he introduced her to something more shocking and outrageous than anything they’d ever done before. While there had been times when she’d been hesitant to try a particular kink he introduced into their lives, she’d never used a safe word with him, always trusting that the outcome would be pleasurable. She was daring and adventurous when it came to sex, but he was well aware that tonight might be the first t
ime she balked at the hard-core gift he’d had designed specifically for her.
Stephanie loved when he dominated her. It turned her on when he tied her down, took control, and forced her to do every wicked thing he demanded. But there was no doubt in his mind that this new toy would test every single one of her limits and push her beyond anything she’d ever experienced sexually or even mentally.
She’d either love the wicked, filthy gift or hate it. There would be no in-between, and his greatest fear was that she’d think he was beyond depraved for creating such an over-the-top, forbidden contraption for her—even if it did play into one of her own dirty fantasies. What he wanted to do to her was outlandish, licentious, and twisted as fuck. And just imagining Stephanie being strapped on to such an unconventional machine, her face etched with lust as she was forced to endure such intense, extreme pleasure, made his dick hard in his pants.
Or . . . she’d freak out over the depravity of the act, scream her safe word, and never forgive him for putting her through something so traumatic. Fuck.
“You are way overthinking things,” Dean said quietly from beside him, clearly sensing Mac’s inner turmoil. “Stephanie is far from being sexually repressed or a shrinking violet when it comes to trying new things here at the club.”
Mac shifted on his feet. His friend was right, and his words helped to put his head on straight again. He knew the insecurity was his own, based on a past relationship where he’d been branded a monster for his taboo desires—something he’d never experienced with Stephanie—yet that niggling fear was like an annoying form of PTSD that crept up on him at times and caused him to second-guess himself. Because if he ever hurt Stephanie or shattered the trust between them by pushing her too far, it would destroy him.
Rick Dunne, the head of the Cyber Security Division at Noble and Associates, walked up to Mac and Dean, and Mac was grateful for the interruption. Another man strolled beside Rick, and while Mac didn’t recognize the tall, well-built, lighter-haired guy, he assumed it was Rick’s stepbrother, for whom Mac had approved an invitation to The Players Club, upon Rick’s request about a week ago.
