Deviant

by Gemma James

  They relayed information like that, without words, much like Rafe and I did. Part of me hated it, was even jealous of the connection they had, because I was greedy and wanted Rafe all to myself.

  “I needed an extra pair of hands for this, and there’s no one I trust more.” He locked eyes with me again. “He’s got my back, baby. Tonight, he has yours.” Rafe grabbed me by the chin. “He won’t do more than what I’ve given him permission to do.”

  I tried shaking my head, despising how he’d left me incapable of speaking. In response, he tightened his hold on my jaw.

  “On your knees, my beautiful wife.”

  I hesitated a few seconds, silently pleading as drool escaped my gaping mouth. The fervor in his gaze catapulted me into surrender…into the blanketing comfort of his will. His voice might have been strong and commanding, his hold inescapable, but his eyes spit fervent flames.

  He needed me as much as I needed him.

  He needed this.

  This twisted fantasy he wanted to share with me. I dropped to my knees, and my pulse tapped a rapid beat at my collarbone. I watched Rafe settle onto the leather couch, his knees spread, feet planted on the floor shoulder-width apart. He unbuttoned his slacks and lowered the zipper.

  “Come to me on your knees.”

  I went to him on shaky limbs, and my knees caught on the front of my dress, causing me to face-plant in his lap. He gripped me by the head and shoved his cock into my mouth.

  That’s when I realized he wanted me off-balance.

  “Damn.” A groan escaped his tight mouth. “Even gagged, you blow me out of my fucking mind.” Holding me immobile, he tilted his hips and thrust between my spread lips.

  I sensed Jax shifting behind me, and I jerked as his foot tried nudging my legs apart. Instinct took over, and I fought to keep my thighs closed.

  With Rafe’s cock heavy on my tongue, he stalled his thrusts, hands a cradle of love around my face. “Spread them, babe.”

  I blinked.

  “It’s okay,” he said, thumb sweeping across my cheek. “He’s not going to touch you.”

  Maybe not with his hands, but that paddle taunted from the back of my mind. I spread my knees, the position leaving me too vulnerable, too exposed to another man’s gaze.

  But if I knew Jax at all, his attention wasn’t on me. It was no secret the man had some sort of attachment to my husband.

  “Arch your spine,” Rafe said. “I want your ass in the air.”

  I pushed my breasts against the couch, my ass lifting toward the ceiling, and Jax brought the paddle down in a quick, firm strike. A grunt strangled free of my throat as Rafe shoved deeper. With each slap of the implement, he impaled me on his cock with unchecked violence, uninhibited by my willingness to let him fuck my mouth whenever and however he liked.

  Slow and lazy.

  Rough and deep.

  This was my wedding gift to him. My surrender. My trust.

  The crown of his shaft hit the back of my throat, and he pushed between my tonsils. Then he stopped and held the position that had me gagging every couple of seconds. His hands were tight fists in my hair, knuckles hard against my scalp, and I hoped like hell my morning sickness wouldn’t kick in.

  A few more breaths passed—his fast and shallow, and mine non-existent as I waited for him to make his next move.

  His deep green gaze flicked toward Jax. “Now,” he groaned between gritted teeth.

  Jax brought the paddle down in a succession of brutal strikes, freezing my vocal cords. I tried to cry out, tried to dislodge Rafe’s cock, but all that accomplished was more gagging on my part.

  And I realized he’d planned this.

  He wanted me gagging on him while my ass took the brunt of that wicked implement. It was humiliating, the sting unbearable and arousing all at once. There was no way I could deny the wetness coating the inside of my thighs. A delicious shiver traveled through me, and I gave myself over to the pain.

  Let it claim and own me.

  Gave in to the power that rushed through me as Rafe lost his shit to the wet glove of my mouth. He came down my throat with a hoarse cry, his eyes squeezed shut, almost as if the orgasm caused him pain.

  Almost as if he weren’t ready to come but couldn’t help himself.

  He slipped from my mouth, and if my lips hadn’t been forced into a perfect O, I would have smiled.

  28. The Key - Rafe

  A newly built prison awaited all sorts of perverse uses in the cellar. It was all I thought about as I laid Alex’s naked body on our bed for the first time, her wedding dress a puddle on the floor near the bedroom door. Her eyes drew me in, hook, line, and sinker.

  The cage would have to wait. In the light of day, she’d get to know our new cabin on the island one square foot at a time. With each new discovery, she’d learn of all the things I planned to do to her. Some, she would love.

  Others, not so much.

  I stepped out of my pants, then unbuttoned my shirt and slid it off my shoulders. Alex veered upright, elbows sinking into the mattress, and pulled me down by the chain around my neck, her dainty hand folding around the gold key attached.

  “What’s this?”

  I planted my hands on the mattress and caged her body between my arms. “The key to your freedom.”

  The key slipped from her fingers. “My freedom?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” I murmured before parting her lips with my tongue. Our mouths came together in slow licks.

  She broke the kiss on a moan. “I want to know more about this key.”

  “It unlocks many things in this house.”

  “That doesn’t tell me much, Rafe.”

  “I know.” I teased the corner of her mouth with a smile.

  “Stop teasing me.”

  “Babe, are you talking about the key, or my mouth?”

  “Both.” She lifted her head, lips seeking mine, and I inched out of reach.

  “I can tell you there’s only two of its kind.” Taking the key between my thumb and forefinger, I trailed the metal across her lips. “One’s around my neck.”

  “And the other one?”

  “With Jax for safekeeping.”

  “What if we need it, and he’s not around?”

  “Then I guess a locksmith will find out how sexually depraved we are. The people of Dante’s Pass will grab their pitchforks.”

  “Good thing I’m a willing prisoner.”

  My cock grew as hard as a steel rod again just thinking of all the things I wanted to do to her in this house. She’d get plenty of pain from me, followed by plenty of orgasms as long as she obeyed.

  I drew an errant curl away from her forehead. “Thank you.”

  An adorable crease formed between her brows. “For what?”

  “Indulging me downstairs.”

  “I’ll do anything for you.”

  She had, and she would, but tonight, the depravity would have to wait. She’d given me a taste of it with Jax in the living room. Now it was all about her.

  Loving her.

  Body to body. Soul to soul.

  “How wet are you?”

  “I’m drenched.”

  I laced our fingers and let the weight of my body pin her to the bed. Her tits heaved against my chest, and she spread her legs, bent them at the knees. Dug her heels into the mattress in desperation.

  “This is your night now,” I said, brushing my lips over each shuttered lid, the perfect end of her nose, the seam of her mouth. “Tell me what you want.”

  “You.”

  As laughter rumbled in my chest, I tugged on her lower lip with my teeth. “You’ve already got me. Your shackle is on my finger, babe.”

  “And yours is on mine.”

  “Oh, I plan to shackle more than your finger.”

  Her brilliant gaze bore into me, and I felt the force of it arrow through my heart. “Make love to me, Rafe.”

  It was as simple as that. Tonight, she didn’t want my darkness. She wanted the light.

>   But without a little darkness, there could be no light.

  As I devoured her mouth, I pushed into her wet heat, and we settled into a languid tempo. Our fingers clutched each other. Tongues mated. Teeth nipped. She put her soul into our kiss, her desperation vibrating in a whimpering moan.

  “I’m so close,” she whispered. “Slower…oh God…slower.”

  I thrust to the hilt and froze. Going still inside her would drive her mad, which only made me determined to claim her cunt like this for as long as possible until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Pushing her hands above her head, I anchored them to the mattress and peeked at her budded nipples.

  “Don’t stop.” She arched into me, groin to groin.

  “I decide when you come.”

  She growled. “You said this was my night.”

  “It is, baby. I won’t choke you, deny you, or fuck you in the ass, but I still decide when you come.”

  Drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she rolled her head from side to side. “I need to come. Please, Rafe.”

  “God, you’re fucking gorgeous.” I pulled out and watched my cock slide home to heaven once more. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

  “Ahh, fuuuuck! Right there.”

  “You want more?”

  “Yes,” she hissed, her body strung as tight as a guitar string.

  I didn’t mind loving her like this. Slow. Excruciatingly slow, my gaze held prisoner by the sight of my shaft sinking inside her over and over again, glistening with her arousal.

  While I watched our bodies coming together, I felt her eyes on me.

  She needed more.

  A flick of my tongue on her nipple. Teeth tugging on the sensitive bud.

  A finger lodged in her ass.

  One hand smothering her pleas.

  She wanted love, but love alone never got her off so good.

  Shoving to my knees, I told her to turn over. She flipped, lowered into a crouching position, and curled her hands around the slots in the headboard. I kneeled behind her, and as she pushed her ass against my lap, I drove into her cunt with an upward thrust.

  “Shit, Alex. Ride my cock.”

  Hips undulating, she impaled herself again and again, seeking the perfect pace, the right angle. Her knuckles whitened as she sought release. I tangled a fist in her hair, yanked her head back, and placed my other hand at the bottom of her spine, my thumb reaching, seeking, then finally intruding into her ass.

  “Oh, God!”

  “That’s it, sweetheart.”

  “Can I come?”

  “Fuck yes.”

  Three more thrusts, and she contracted around me, making me explode with a gruff cry. Her spine bowed, and her head dropped between her arms as she propped herself up by fisting the bars of the headboard.

  After our breathing slowed, I scooped her up and carried her into the bathroom, bypassing the large whirlpool tub with all of its devious possibilities, and headed for the shower.

  She clung to me, arms and legs wrapped around my neck and waist. I stepped into the stall and flipped on the shower heads. The spray beat down on us from all angles, shooting calming warmth onto our skin.

  I pushed her against a tiled wall, my mouth seeking hers, tongue stroking and teasing. I set her on her feet before dropping to my knees. As I spread her open, I caught the sight of the gold band on my ring finger, and a smile touched my lips.

  “Baby,” I said, glancing up. “Do you mind if I eat out my gorgeous wife?”

  She widened her stance. “I might die if you don’t.” The language of her body invited me to taste her. Cupping my hand, I collected the spray from the shower in my palm and dribbled it down her pelvis.

  She pushed toward my mouth with a groan. “I need…need…”

  “Tell me.” I wanted to hear her say it, and she didn’t disappoint.

  “Your tongue on me. For fuck’s sake, Rafe. Lick me.”

  I trapped her wrists at her sides and worked her over with the tip of my tongue, refusing to give her the fingering she’d need to reach orgasm.

  She’d have to work that much harder to get there.

  Drawing a light circle around her clit, the tip of my tongue an infuriating tease, I dragged moan after moan from her.

  “Please, please…” she chanted, frustrated and out of her mind with sexual tension, desperate at her soaked core.

  I kissed my way to her center, mouth parting, gently sucking, tongue dipping between her folds. She quivered as liquid desire flooded her sex.

  Chants and pleas turned into short, high-pitched cries. She was gone, all consciousness reduced to the inflamed area between her legs. Letting go of her hands, I shoved two fingers inside her as I tongued her clit. She gripped my hair and shattered in a string of convulsing waves, her pretty cries an alluring siren to my ears.

  Afterward, as she slumped into my arms, eyes glazed and dazed, I’d never found her more beautiful, fragile as she was in the aftermath of marital fucking bliss. We finished washing up, then I carried her to bed, where she slumbered in the safety of my embrace.

  29. Check - Rafe

  Ding, ding, ding.

  At first, I thought it was a social media notification interrupting my light doze, dragging me from that weird place between awake and sleep. The chirp sounded again, and I disentangled from Alex’s sleeping form at my side.

  She didn’t stir, not even a hint. After the excitement of the day, followed by the intense sex, I wouldn’t be surprised if she slept like the dead until morning.

  I reached for my phone, and the device shrilled in my palm, putting me on alert.

  That wasn’t a text or a social media notification—not that I got a lot of those anyway. That was the alarm Jax and I had set up for the island.

  Something had tripped the censors.

  It was possible a small animal had done it, and tomorrow I’d laugh at my paranoia as I adjusted the censors to ignore such a tiny intruder. At least that’s what I told myself as I slid from bed, feet silently hitting the ground, and took the master key from around my neck. It unlocked a lot of shit in the house. I’d had the bedroom furniture specially crafted to keep every piece of Alex’s wardrobe under my command.

  Kinky slut-wear.

  Professional outfits.

  Dressed up stuff.

  Casual things.

  Also locked away was my pistol. I stuck the key into the drawer in my nightstand and turned it to the right. The drawer slid open, and I grabbed the loaded gun. As I pulled on my slacks and pocketed the key, a faint thud sounded downstairs, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

  I swung my gaze between the open door of our bedroom and Alex, still fast asleep in our bed, and debated on whether or not to wake her. The unmistakable thump of footsteps stiffened my spine, and the need to investigate sent me creeping out the door. I kept my back against the wall and peered over the railing into the darkened living room below.

  Nothing moved, and the place was quiet. Maybe I had imagined the whole thing. I couldn’t take that chance though. I’d let Alex down once before on this island by letting my guard down long enough for Perrone’s guys to sweep in and take us both.

  Not this time.

  I was prepared and ready to fight for her, to the death, if necessary.

  Finger on the trigger, I made my way to the first floor, bare feet soundless on the stairs. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and after checking to make sure the living room was empty, I started toward the kitchen, making it to the dining room before I found the silhouette of Zach standing several feet in front of me.

  Steadying my hands, I aimed the barrel at his head.

  “Before you shoot me,” he began with a flip of the kitchen light, “you’ll want to see this first.” He held out a cellphone, and the unworried smirk on his face pissed me off.

  “How about I just shoot you and ask questions later?”

  “Shelton thought you might. That’s why he sent me in alone.”

  I arch
ed a brow, a deceptive picture of calm. “Shelton?”

  “His guys are outside waiting.” Zach took two steps toward me, making my finger extra twitchy. “Just look at the fucking video.” He set the cellphone on the floor and kicked it across the hardwood to me.

  Keeping the gun aimed at his head, I bent and picked up the device then pressed the play icon on the screen. My heart landed in the bottom of my gut. A young boy sat tied to a chair, a strip of duct tape over his mouth. Tears bathed his face, and he squirmed, crying and begging behind the stickiness of the gag.

  My son.

  Fear burned my eyeballs as I noted the terror in William’s expression. The footage switched to Shelton’s ugly mug.

  “We have your son. If you want him to live, do as De Luca junior says.” The video went black, and I clenched my fingers around the cell, hand shaking before I dropped it. The phone landed with a clunk but didn’t break. I trained an incredulous gaze on Zach.

  “You’d put an innocent child at risk over your sick obsession?”

  Zach shrugged. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get Lex back.” He glanced at the device lying on the hardwood. “Leverage is leverage.”

  “What does Shelton get out of this?”

  “You.”

  I figured as much. With me out of the picture, Alex was ripe for the picking. Zach would be able to pluck her away without anyone knowing for days.

  “What does he want with me?”

  Zach sneered. “Do you think I give two fucks? You’re not my problem anymore.” He nodded toward my pistol. “Kick the gun to me.”

  I sent a quick glance over my shoulder, toward the stairs leading to the loft where Alex lay sleeping, oblivious to the danger. Because she trusted me to keep her safe.

  How could I fucking leave her with Zach? I couldn’t.

  I raised the gun again, glaring at Zach through the despair collecting in my eyes. “You sonofabitch.”

  “If you kill me, your son dies.”

  “If I don’t kill you, you’ll hurt Alex.”

  His brows narrowed. “I love her. I’d never fucking hurt her.”

  “How delusional are you? She tried killing herself to get away from you.”