by Jane Henry
“Blake,” she pleaded. “Let me come!”
He lifted his mouth off her pussy just long enough to look at her, as both hands reached for her nipples and squeezed. The pulse of pleasure-pain shot to her pussy as he grinned at her. “Come for me, baby. Give it to me. Take it.” His tongue was on her again, and then she toppled over the edge. Waves of ecstasy pulsed through her, her body writhing beneath the perfect torture of his mouth. A scream sounded in the quiet. She had no control over anything, her sex pulsing as he mastered her, her body thrashing, her wrists still bound and helpless, as he rent pleasure from every inch of her. She thought it would never stop, one wave of ecstasy riding on another. Before she was quite done, he was standing, pushing his jeans down, spreading her legs, impaling her with one savage thrust of his cock.
Fuck, he was in so deep she gasped, each stab of his cock rendering her immobile with pleasure. He drove into her with determination, a savage claiming that somehow healed her, making her feel at once both wanted and beautiful. Mastered. Owned. He roared his release as she came a second time, screaming into the dark recesses of the night while he held her close, until they finally settled, both of them, the only sound, her heart beating with his. His hands fumbled at her wrists as he skillfully unfastened the knots, her hands falling open and immediately encircling his neck. He lifted her and fell back upon the pillows, both entangled in a mass of limbs.
“You gonna do as you’re told?” he rumbled into her hair, his hand encircling her neck and pulling her possessively against his chest. She nodded, unable to do anything but acquiesce.
“I’ll do my best,” she said, a compromise that seemed to only amuse him.
“You do your best to do what you’re told, and I’ll do my best to make sure you do, and we’ll be all right, yeah?”
She laughed, her voice sounded deep and sultry to her own ears. “Hell yeah.”
Chapter 9
“You know this is totally unnecessary, right?” Elena sighed as Blake opened the passenger’s side door of his SUV and helped his woman slide down from the high seat, totally appreciating the way the slide made both her skirt and her lightweight sweater ride up to reveal tantalizing glimpses of skin. “Driving me everywhere like I’m a celebrity who needs a bodyguard?”
“Yep. And you know we already discussed this,” Blake reminded her, allowing a warning note to creep into his voice.
Elena sighed again and squirmed just a tiny bit, making Blake grin. Oh, they’d discussed it all right, first at his house this morning, and then later when they’d stopped at her apartment so she could change and get ready for lunch with Gretchen. Blake had made it clear, once again, that he wasn’t screwing around with her safety. When she’d argued, he’d warned her, and when she’d continued to fucking argue, he’d put her over his knee and spanked her gorgeous, round ass right there on the edge of her bed, loving the way she’d felt against him, still rosy and naked from her shower. He’d thought he’d been thorough enough to put an end to this conversation for the rest of the morning, at least.
Apparently not.
But it would be his absolute pleasure to rectify that mistake.
He placed his hand firmly on her elbow and guided her to the elevator, his eyes scanning the nearly-empty sub-basement level of the parking lot… just in case. Nothing had suggested that Salazar was planning to up the ante from his harassing protests, but something about the whole situation still didn’t sit right with him, and Blake wouldn’t take chances.
When they reached the elevator, he jabbed the up button, pleased when the doors immediately whooshed open and no other passengers had appeared.
“Figures. Even elevators obey your will,” Elena grumbled.
He turned and speared her with a look that made her eyes widen and her breath come fast.
“W-what’s that look for?” she stuttered.
He gave her his most feral smile as he backed her into the empty elevator car. He pressed the button for the top floor, then turned to crowd her against the wall, bracing his hands above her head.
“Look?” he mocked in a whisper against her neck.
“Yes the ‘You’re in trouble, little girl’ look,” she elaborated on a rush, as he ran his tongue over her thudding pulse.
“Oh, that look? That look just means I was thinking about you,” he said in a low voice, watching the way his breath made gooseflesh rise on her damp skin and just knowing that her nipples were hardening beneath her bra.
“Oh… I guess… that’s nice,” she said, lifting her hands to thread them into his hair.
“Hmmm,” he agreed, pressing her more thoroughly into the wall. “Like I’ve been thinking that I’ve clearly been too easy on you, worrying that you were new to the lifestyle. I’m thinking that the next time I spank your ass for arguing and sassing me, I’m gonna have to be a lot more thorough so you’ll learn your fucking lesson.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, no, that’s not… you don’t…”
“Don’t worry, baby,” he told her. “I take my responsibilities very seriously.”
He moved one hand from the wall beside her head and squeezed her ass… hard… right over a spot he knew would still be tender from the spanking he’d given her an hour before.
She whimpered in a way that was half discomfort, half arousal, and he felt his cock twitch.
Jesus, this girl.
“Now, are we gonna discuss my presence at your lunch date again?” he demanded softly. “Do I need to make myself any clearer on this subject?”
She shook her head. “No. I just… didn’t want to inconvenience you,” she whispered. “I know you’re busy, and…”
Blake snorted. “Elena, in just this one morning, you’ve aroused me, defied me, angered me, and made me laugh my head off. One thing you have not done, one thing you never do, is inconvenience me. It is my job—my privilege—to take care of you and keep you safe. That is my priority. You are my priority. Understand?”
His hand soothed the flesh he’d squeezed and she smiled. “Yeah,” she breathed.
And damn if that smile didn’t communicate itself all the way to his groin.
The elevator dinged open and he snagged her hand, tugging her out into the restaurant lobby. “Let’s get this over with,” he barked.
He wasn’t just talking about this lunch, although he couldn’t wait to get his woman back to his place, to show her exactly how he felt about her sass, and to explore her serious enthusiasm for the Shibari they’d dabbled with last night. He couldn’t wait to be done with all this bullshit. The protesters. The investigation. The worry for Elena’s safety, if these idiots did decide to up the ante. The nagging feeling in his gut that he was missing something.
Last night, after Elena had gone to sleep with her head pillowed on his chest, Blake had lain awake for a long while. The last few days had brought him no shortage of shit to think about, from the concern about Elena’s possible pregnancy (which, honest to God, had felt more like hope than worry), to the quagmire of the protests that were making it nearly impossible to effectively run his business. He’d been running his hands over Elena’s soft hair, breathing in the sweet, vanilla scent of her shampoo, when a thought had run across his brain that shocked the hell out of him.
You could just close The Club.
It wasn’t the thought of closing The Club that shocked him. Hell, he’d considered it once or twice, especially over the last few years, first when that fucker who called himself Marauder had used The Club to attack Matteo’s woman, and again when Josie got sick. Both times, though, he’d dismissed the idea right away. Not only was the place his livelihood, it was his life’s work—a place he’d built from the ground up over decades. He’d mentored hundreds of dominants, tutored dozens of submissives, and provided a real-life safe place for members of the community, much the way Josie had online. It was more than a business. It was a duty. A calling, if you wanted to get dramatic about it.
But last night, feeling the warm weight of his wom
an pressed against his side, hearing the deep, even sound of her breathing, he found he couldn’t give a shit about any of that. It was all about Elena now—protecting her, making a life with her, building a family with her.
He dropped his hand from Elena’s and placed it on her lower back as he guided her across the elegantly appointed lobby.
He wouldn’t close The Club unless he absolutely had to, of course, but recognizing that he could do it, and walk away without regrets if that’s what Elena needed? Yeah, that had helped solidify his priorities. He’d known for a few weeks that he was in deep with her. Now he knew he was all in.
“Good afternoon,” a woman greeted them from behind a podium, distracting Blake from his thoughts. “Welcome to The Skyroom.” She appraised Blake from head to toe before tossing him a wide, blatantly flirtatious smile.
Blake raised one eyebrow at her obvious inspection. She was an older woman—his age, or maybe a couple of years younger, short, blonde, and completely lacking in subtlety. Not remotely interesting.
But beneath his hand, he felt Elena’s back tense, and saw her eyes narrow as she correctly read the hostess’s smile.
Now that reaction was interesting.
“How may I help you?” the blonde asked.
Blake deliberately stayed silent, allowing Elena to speak.
“We’re meeting a friend for lunch,” she said shortly. “Gretchen Liu?”
The blonde gave Elena a perfunctory smile, before returning her gaze to Blake. “Of course. The other members of your party are already seated. If you and your… daughter would follow me?”
Daughter. It’d been bound to happen, of course, and Blake was surprised to find that he was more amused than upset by it, especially in this situation. He frowned at the woman severely, waiting for her to realize her mistake.
Not surprisingly, his Elena wasn’t that patient.
She tucked herself more firmly into his side, wrapped her arms around his waist, and glanced up at him with a wide smile. “Baby, can you believe she thinks I’m your daughter?” Elena giggled in a high-pitched voice she’d probably never used before in her entire life. “Although it is sexy as hell when you call me young lady.”
Blake turned his frown down at his woman and grasped her hip firmly in warning.
A warning she ignored.
Elena snaked her hand up Blake’s abdomen, coming to rest just over his heart. “And I think I’d kinda love to call you Daddy sometimes,” she confided in a stage whisper just loud enough to be sure the blonde could hear.
The blonde made a strangled noise, and pinched her lips into a sour pout. “This way,” she said, grabbing menus off the podium and sweeping through the open doorway into the restaurant.
Elena went to follow her, but Blake grabbed her arm. “Care to explain yourself?” he asked keeping his voice deceptively mild.
Elena shrugged and looked down, somewhat chagrined. “Just… staking my claim,” she said softly, but her tone of voice said she knew she’d crossed a line.
“Uh huh.” His hand, hidden from view of the restaurant by the podium, found the curve of her ass and squeezed once more. “You can be certain we’ll be discussing that… later.”
Elena sucked in a breath, then nodded meekly.
Blake turned her towards the dining room and gave her sore posterior a firm swat, but couldn’t help adding, “Young lady.”
And damn him, but the sight of the blush climbing her cheeks was giving him ideas completely inappropriate for the present moment.
Half pissed off, half amused, and one hundred percent turned on. Was this what the rest of his life would be like, he wondered?
He chuckled to himself.
Yeah, he was definitely all in.
He controlled his expression as he followed Elena through the restaurant, preparing himself to meet her friend and talk business, and forcing himself not to dwell on the way Elena’s shapely legs ate up the floor, or allow the sway of her ass to affect his breathing.
He couldn’t fault the choice of location, for sure. The restaurant, which was on the 34th floor of a highrise near Rowe’s Wharf, was large and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows on three sides that allowed the warm spring sunlight to flood the space. The floors were a dark cherry, the linen tablecloths were pristine white, and a panorama of Boston spread out before them in every direction.
They were led to a four-person table in the back corner furthest from the door, where two people were already seated. Blake noted with approval that the man—a guy with the honed physique and sharp eyes of a trained operator—sat facing the room and watched them closely as they approached. The other occupant, a woman with a petite build and hair every bit as straight and black as Elena’s own, sat directly across from the man, scowling at him.
“Enjoy your lunch,” the blonde told Elena acidly, plunking a pair of menus down at their seats and stalking away.
Both people at the table turned to stare, and then the woman jumped up from her seat with a squeal.
“Oh my gosh!” she cried, her shoulder-length hair swirling around her face as she threw her arms around Elena. “How are you, stranger? It’s been months and months. Emails and calls just aren’t the same!”
While the women exchanged greetings, Blake turned his attention to the man, who had risen to his feet also, consciously mirroring the pose of the woman he was protecting. The guy was easily over six-two, with a lean, muscular build that reminded Blake of Matteo, and the lower half of his face was obscured by a full beard.
“Blake?” the man surmised.
Blake nodded.
“Lucas,” the man introduced himself, holding out his hand for Blake to shake.
“You’re one of Slay’s guys,” Blake said, more of a statement than a question.
But the man grinned widely even as he inclined his head. “More like, Slay’s one of us.”
Blake felt his lips turn up. “That an important distinction?”
Lucas shrugged. “We aren’t real keen about bowing to anyone else’s authority, that’s all. Slay’s a good guy—when he’s leading an operation, he knows I’ve always got his six. But he’s not my boss.”
Blake nodded, and from the other side of the table, Elena piped up. “We have that in common!” she told Lucas, slinging an arm around her friend’s waist. “Alex isn’t my boss, either.”
Lucas’s eyebrows rose.
“Lucas, this is Slay’s sister, Elena,” Blake said dryly. “You might note the resemblance.”
The man smirked behind his beard and gave Blake a look. “I do.”
Elena shook the hand Lucas offered, but her brow wrinkled in confusion. “That’s funny. Most people don’t think we look alike. He’s built like Paul Bunyan and I’m… definitely not.” She chuckled, taking her seat.
Blake took the seat opposite her. “It’s not a physical resemblance,” he said.
Elena shook her head. “I don’t get it.”
The woman beside her rolled her eyes. “He’s saying you and your brother both have an attitude.”
“Oh,” Elena said, her face clearing. “Well, yeah. But on him it’s annoying, whereas my attitude is adorable.”
Gretchen and Lucas laughed. Blake felt his mouth kick up in a smile. “Absolutely, baby.”
Gretchen’s pretty brown eyes, just a few shades lighter than Elena’s, caught Blake’s and narrowed, like a hawk who’d caught her prey. “Okay, let’s talk about that, right there! What exactly is the relationship between the two of you?”
Elena snorted. “Simmer down, G. There’s no story to uncover here, okay? Blake and I are together. That’s all there is to it.”
Her voice sounded confident, but he loved the way her eyes sought his for confirmation.
“Yep,” he nodded. “That’s all there is to it.”
But Gretchen wouldn’t be put off. She rolled her eyes again. “Well, yeah. We all know that. Heck, the entire broadcast area of Channel 13 Action News and most of YouTube knows that. But what
were you doing at The Club in the first place?” She leaned over the table, glancing avidly between Blake and Elena. “How did you get involved in this, Lanie? Are you, you know, his submissive?”
Elena glanced at Blake again, this time as though looking for guidance, and felt his temper spike. No one was going to grill his girl on their personal business.
But before he could open his mouth to protest, to draw a firm line around what was off-limits, Lucas spoke up.
“Back off, Vicki Vale,” he said airily, earning him a glare from Gretchen.
Blake personally felt that the comparison to the rabidly inquisitive reporter from Batman was pretty apt. So did Elena, if her stifled giggle was any indication.
“Elena is my friend,” Gretchen shot back. “I care about her and want to make sure she’s okay.”
“I know you do.” Lucas’s voice became lower, softer, both a comfort and a caution. “But this is neither the time nor the place for that discussion.”
Gretchen darted a glance at Elena, whose cheeks were still pink with embarrassment, and deflated.
“Sorry, honey,” she said. “Let’s change the subject. Why don’t you tell me all about your brother! Is Alex still sex on two legs?”
Elena laughed and relaxed, but Blake noticed that the opposite was true of the man sitting next to him. Lucas seemed to be holding himself very, very still.
Hmmm.
“First of all, ew!” Elena said with a smile. “My brother is… enormous and annoying and not remotely hot. And second of all, he’s doing great. Remember, I told you in my email that he’s been with Allie for about a year and a half, and he’s going to be adopting her son, Charlie, any day now?”
“Oh! Right! Duh! I forgot,” Gretchen said, earning her a curious look from Elena and a glare from Lucas, who’d folded his arms over his chest.
“Seriously? You? Forgot? What happened to that steel-trap brain you were so famous for back in college?” Elena teased.
“Good question,” Gretchen said ruefully. “My brain seems to have been on hiatus the past few weeks. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you came to me with this. The guy you asked me to look into is someone I’ve been hoping to nail for years. A friend of mine had dealings with him and, uh… it didn’t end well. My friend’s gotten in so deep, he can’t get out.”
