by Laura Kaye
Chuckling, Kyler took her hand and winked. “Yes, about that. I’m sorry because I’d like to see you again.”
The room spun around her, despite the fact that she was sitting perfectly still. But then she shook her head. “I can’t afford it.” She’d received the offer of full membership just yesterday, but between the cost and how she and Master Kyler had left things, she hadn’t even given it a second thought.
“I’m not talking about Blasphemy, Mia. Well, not just Blasphemy. I’m talking about me and you.” He traced his finger over her thigh, close to her knee.
She shivered, as much from the touch as from the words. “Me and you,” she repeated.
“Sounds even better when you say it,” he said, leaning in and nuzzling her face. He kissed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. “I just need you to know, I don’t do this, Mia. Any of this. Because I’ve never before met anyone who made me want to do it. And I’m not even sure I’ll be any good at it. But the last few days have been fucking miserable, and I—”
She kissed him. Planted her hands in his hair and kissed him so damn hard. Because she’d heard enough. Enough to know what she wanted.
The growl he unleashed sounded like pure victory, especially when he quickly took over, plundering her mouth with his tongue, hauling her onto his lap so that she straddled him. He tugged her hair, rubbed hard hands over her body, pressed his erection up against her wet panties.
“Oh, God,” she rasped around the edge of the kiss.
“Fucking missed you,” he said, his hands finally touching her breasts, kneading and squeezing through the thin cotton of the little bronze-colored dress. “Fucking need you.”
“I need you, too,” she rasped, grinding against his erection. Her blood was molten, and a sheen of sweat broke out over her body. She was already so close.
“Don’t come,” he ordered. His big palm slipped under the flowy pleats of her dress and gripped her ass. Hard. “You do not have permission to come.”
She whimpered because the command shoved her in that direction, just like he must’ve known it would. The sexy bastard. “Please, Sir. Please.”
He nailed her with a stare, his eyes dark blue fire. “You want to come, Mia?”
A fast nod. “Yes, Sir.”
“You want to come, you do it on my cock.”
For a second, Mia couldn’t breathe, because she wasn’t sure she’d ever been so turned on in her whole life. “Here? Now?”
Kyler just looked at her, one eyebrow arched in a challenge, a dare. She gave a single nod.
In a flash of movement, Kyler shifted to retrieve his wallet, and then a condom from within. “Your hands will be on my shoulders or in my hair. You will not make a sound. If someone approaches us, you will sit still and act natural.” He smirked at her as he shifted again to unzip his slacks and remove his long, hard length. She watched as he sheathed himself. “Your skirt will cover us. Only you and I will know that your pussy is impaled on my cock. Understood?”
“Yes. God, yes.” She couldn’t believe they were doing this, but she didn’t want to resist. Not for a second. She needed him in her so damn bad it felt more important than her next breath.
“Then put my cock inside of you.” He tugged her panties to the side.
Releasing a shaky breath, she took him in hand and lifted so that she could sink down on his length. A moan spilled out from her throat when he bottomed out inside her. She felt deliciously full. It was perfection.
Growling, Kyler pinched her clit. Hard. “No sounds.”
She swallowed a threatening shriek as he fixed her skirt. Remembering the rules, she put her hands on his shoulders.
“Ride me, Mia. Slow.” His hands fell on her thighs and teased her bare skin.
She started moving. Slow up. Slow down. Every time she was fully seated on top of him, her clit ground against his pants. It only took about a half dozen teasing strokes until her whole body was vibrating with her approaching orgasm.
“Don’t fucking come,” he said in a low, strained voice.
“Please,” she whispered.
“If we weren’t in public, I’d stuff your mouth with your panties to keep you quiet,” he said, face stern. “Instead…” He tugged the soft fabric down over one breast, and then the cup of her bra. Just enough to bare a nipple. He squeezed her there, twisted, held on until she was panting and trembling from the restraint of holding back. Heat scorched through her, radiating out from the pain in her nipple.
“Good girl,” he said. His hand gripped her thigh. Hard. A warning. “Stop.”
She froze.
“Can I get you all something to drink?” said a man standing behind Mia. She had a cock inside her, one breast free from her clothing, her nipple being held between Kyler’s vise-like fingers.
“Darling?” Kyler asked, smiling. “What would you like?”
Damn him. Damn him and his unaffected voice. But she knew it was an act. She knew it was, especially when his cock jerked inside her. “Strawberry mojito,” she said.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” the waiter asked.
She peered over her shoulder and tried to smile. “Strawberry mojito, please.”
“I’ll have a whiskey neat,” Kyler said. “Thanks.”
She knew the moment they were alone again because Kyler lifted her and slammed her pussy down on his cock in a punishing, glorious thrust. He released her nipple, and the flash of pain was like an electric shock. She could’ve screamed as a wave of pain sliced through her, but then Kyler was slamming into her again. And again. And again. “Do. Not. Come.”
Her fingers were like claws in his shoulders and her whole body shook. The material of his pants, wet now from her juices, added to the torment.
Kyler’s gaze was glued to hers as he slowed their bodies back to the earlier, torturous pace and urged her to take over. “That waiter…he knew I was balls deep in you, Mia. He knew and he was so fucking jealous.”
She couldn’t hold back a whimper. She loved being watched, and loved that Master Kyler understood her need for it and gave it to her like this. It was so deliciously dirty.
“Right now, he’s wondering what your pussy feels like. He’s fantasizing that it was him making you wet and shaky and hot. He’s wishing he could join in.” He pulled her down for a kiss that was short and restrained and even sexier for it. Holding her by the neck, he looked deep in her eyes. “In a minute, he’s going to return with our drinks. When I tell him ‘thank you,’ you’re going to come. Eyes on me. No sounds. But come. Understand?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, the room absolutely spinning around her as she continued to ride him in slow ups and downs that made her crazy but didn’t quite get her there. On top of it all, the anticipation of the waiter’s return had her heart racing and her skin feeling like an electrical current ran over every part of her.
And then Kyler was gripping her thigh again, stilling her as the waiter placed their drinks on the table behind her. “Here we go,” the man said.
Kyler’s hand dropped to between her legs, and his fingers secretly found and massaged her clit. “Thank you,” he said. Mia gasped at her cue.
“Can I get you anything else?” the waiter asked. But Mia barely heard him because Kyler’s fingers tugged on her clit, a hidden, stinging command. The orgasm detonated inside her, stealing her breath as her pussy spasmed so hard that her expression morphed into the shape of a silent scream, her mouth wide, her eyes closed. The waiter had to know. Oh, God, the waiter had to know.
“That’s all for now,” Kyler said. The hard grit in his voice wound her body even tighter.
She barely knew what was happening when Kyler lifted and slammed her down once, twice, three times, dragging her orgasm out even more. He pulled her face down to his and claimed her mouth on a roar that she mostly swallowed. His cock kicked inside her over and over and he shuddered beneath her as his release erupted.
“Fuck,” he rasped when his lips parted from hers. �
�Lift up, baby.”
She did, regretting his loss. In a series of quick movements, he removed the condom and tucked himself away. A few wet spots darkened the front of his pants.
He studied her, looking at the mess they’d made. “I fucking hope I smell like you, too.” He winked, then nodded at where his hand hid the condom. “Be right back.”
She smiled and watched him go. And that man’s ass. Geez, that ass was a thing of beauty. For real.
When he returned, Kyler pulled Mia in tight against his side, her knees curled up against his thigh. They drank quietly, both of their bodies still hot from the sex.
“Will you go out to dinner with me?” he asked.
She peered up at him, and the uncertainty in his gaze was totally endearing. Her heart tripped all over itself. Was he really so unsure? Of her, or of himself? “I would love to.”
His smile was so damn pleased. “Good. That’s good. Would Wednesday night work? I don’t think I can wait ’til next weekend to see you again.”
Her heart tripped a little harder, falling, falling, falling for him. She kissed him and stroked her fingers through his hair. “Wednesday would be perfect.”
Kyler nodded, his expression all pure male satisfaction. “As much as I don’t want to, do we need to get you back to your friend?”
“Soon. But, for now, would you just hold me?” she asked, too content to move, too happy with the night’s unexpected turn of events to want it to be over.
He kissed her forehead and squeezed her in tighter against the side of his body. “Yeah, baby. Nothing would please me more.”
Chapter 10
Kyler Vance was breaking all the rules now. But for nearly the whole week after he’d let Mia walk out of Blasphemy, his gut had demanded he’d played that situation all wrong. Rules be damned.
With everything else that’d gone bad in his life lately—losing Miguel, getting shot, being forced to ride a desk, the investigation—losing Mia was one thing too many, one loss too great.
And if his own instincts weren’t pushing him hard enough in the direction of making things right with her, of giving at least something with her a try, Quinton and Griffin wouldn’t quit busting his balls every chance they got. And then Griffin had called him out.
“If you’re doing so good without Mia, if you’ve moved on, then do a demonstration scene. Find a new submissive tonight. Right now. You know there are plenty of subs here who’d love to scene with you. Find one and fuck her.” Griffin had slapped a Ben Franklin on the bar. Quinton had crossed his arms and given a nod, like he thought it a damn good plan.
And it was. It should’ve been. But as Kyler had contemplated the bet—as he thought about finding someone, touching her, having her touch him—it had all felt wrong. And that wouldn’t have been fair to the submissive.
Kyler had glared at Griffin, much to the other man’s amusement. And Kyler had had to admit, if merely thinking of being with someone else felt so wrong, actually being with someone else was completely off the table. Which meant he’d gotten attached. His feelings had gotten involved. And he wanted more when more was something he never even let himself imagine.
Sonofabitch.
And then he’d run into Mia at that bar on Saturday night, had seen her dancing so seductively with another man, and every fiber of his being had demanded that he claim her once and for fucking all.
Mine.
Damn if that night at the club with her hadn’t removed the ten-ton truck that’d been parked on his chest all the week before. And holding her there at the end? That had satisfied parts of himself that he hadn’t even realized needed eased.
Now, here he was, knocking on the door of Mia’s apartment on the second floor of an old brownstone, dressed in a fucking suit to take her to dinner.
Mia opened the door wearing a smile and a beautiful teal-blue dress that hung all the way down to a pair of tall, peep-toe wedges. She wore her hair loose again, soft and wavy and thick around her shoulders. So damn gorgeous, this woman. “Hi,” she said. “I’m ready to go, unless you’d like to come in?”
“Well, I’d at least like to do this.” He stepped inside, dug his fingers into the heavy silk of her hair, and kissed her. She hummed at the contact and her body went soft and pliant against him, her breasts pushing into his chest, her spine sagging her weight against him. His hand slid down to grab her ass and gave a little squeeze.
“You don’t play fair,” she whispered.
Grinning, he pulled back. He loved the arousal in her dark eyes, the humor in her expression. “I’d have thought you knew that by now.” He winked.
Her laugh was like the sun breaking through the clouds, warming him and lifting his spirits. And giving him just that much more evidence that he was doing the right thing here, with her.
She rolled her eyes and shook her head.
He grasped her by the jaw. “You know, when you roll your eyes at me, I want to put you over my knee.”
A slow grin crept up her face. She rolled her eyes again.
Challenge. Fucking. Accepted.
Pushing the door closed, Kyler grasped Mia by the waist and lowered himself to one knee, laying her over his other knee in the process. She screamed and bucked, but he held her in place with an arm across her lower back. He rucked up her dress, baring miles of lovely legs—and a bare ass, too. She wore no goddamn panties.
“Oh, Mia. Very good,” he said. She’d anticipated one of his desires without him having to voice it. He hadn’t wanted to put any undue pressure on whatever it was they might be by articulating a list of rules for their time together. He was trying to play it by ear, to see what might be natural between them. Whether that was the right way to go about it, he wasn’t sure. But it wasn’t like he had a lot of experience at relationships. He ran his palm over her smooth cheeks. “And it’s gonna be even better when this ass is nice and pink. Five ought to do it. Count.”
His hand came down on the right globe.
“One.”
“One, what?” He rubbed her skin, identifying his next target.
“One, Sir.” The need in her voice shot to his cock. He spanked the left. “Two, Sir.”
Next, his hand landed low and in the center, his fingers making contact with her pussy lips.
“Oh, God. Three. Three, Sir.”
By the time she thanked him for the fifth and final spanking, his cock was rock hard. He pushed his fingers between her legs. She was soaking wet.
“Fuck, Mia. I was trying to be a gentleman tonight,” he said, arranging her on her hands and knees on the floor and fishing a condom out of his pocket. “But if you want the Dom, I’ll give you the fucking Dom.”
“Yes, please.” Her voice was full of need as she peered over her shoulder at him.
Kneeling behind her, he lined himself up with her wet hole and slammed home. They both cried out. “I want to hear you,” he growled. “I want you to be loud.” And then he took her hard and fast. Holding onto her shoulders, her throat, a thick chunk of her hair, he rode her until she was moaning and babbling and saying his name over and over like a litany or a spell. Her sounds certainly wrapped themselves around him.
Their orgasms came as hard and fast as their fucking, causing them to sag in a sated pile onto the floor by her front door. Christ, he hadn’t even made it past the door. That’s how bad he had it for her.
When they were done, Kyler carefully lifted her until she knelt right in front of him.
“Be careful, sweetie. Don’t issue a challenge you aren’t ready to have accepted.” He arched a brow at her, loving the high flush on her cheeks, the arousal still heating her dark eyes.
“Yes, Sir. Thank you,” she said, a smile playing around her lips.
“Little brat.” He kissed her and felt her smile grow under his lips. God, he was in fucking trouble with this woman. He really was. Although he felt lighter than he had in months. Maybe longer. Maybe ever.
A short while later, they were walking into a restaurant
down near the Inner Harbor. An upscale steak house with an Old World décor, all carved wood, warm leather, and crystal chandeliers. It was the kind of place where people celebrated special occasions or businessmen negotiated big deals. Kyler had just wanted to make a good first impression. Well, a good first-date impression, anyway. Hopefully, taking her on her apartment floor before appetizers counted as a plus in her book.
For fuck’s sake.
They ordered champagne and soup and filet mignon and sides to share. Conversation came easily as Mia talked about her work at the gallery and her friend, Dani, who Kyler had briefly met at the bar Saturday night when he’d finally had to stop keeping Mia all to himself. And then her face had really lit up when she’d talked about the kind of mixed-media art she did.
“Mixed media, what does that mean exactly?” Kyler asked.
“It can be anything,” Mia said. “Paint, layers of paper, pieces of metal, everyday objects, even technology. Whatever tells the story of the piece.” She paused as if debating, then said, “Would you like to see? I have some photographs on my phone…”
“Of course I’d like to see,” he said, something deep inside him needing to allay the uncertainty in her voice. “I want to know you, Mia. And your passion for this is crystal clear when you talk about it. I’d love to see what creates that in you.”
The pleased expression on her face reached inside his chest. “Yeah? Okay.” She retrieved her phone from her little clutch purse and scooted closer to him in the curved booth. One by one, she flipped through a stream of images and described her process and the materials for each one.
“May I?” he said, taking the phone from her and flipping back to a few that really caught his eye. “Mia, your work is fucking amazing. The textures, the layers, the stories, you’re really talented.”
“Thank you,” she said, her smile nearly beaming.
He loved that he’d made her feel that way. Having seen her art, he needed to know more. To know everything. “Does your family live in Baltimore?” he asked.
“Only my dad,” she said. “My mom and stepfather live in Philadelphia where I grew up.”
