Love in the Cards
Page 1
Love in the Cards
JIANNE CARLO
BECCA JAMESON
VANESSA NORTH
PARKER KINCADE
CHRISTY GISSENDANER
LYNN LORENZ
ROSANNA LEO
CHERIE NICHOLLS
MONETTE MICHAELS
EMILIA MANCINI
Published by Penning Princess Publishing
A LOVE, LUST AND LAPTOPS PUBLICATION
Copyright 2013
License Notes
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Table of Contents
The Jack of Hearts
Three of Cups
Two of Wands
Two of Cups
The Star
The Strength of a Lion
Judgment Day
Empress
The Wheel of Fortune
The Lovers
The Jack of Hearts
Jianne Carlo
Dedication
For the Love, Lust, and Laptops ladies–thank you for the warm welcome and the friendship.
Ricco stared out the open window and willed Kata to walk through the gate.
He wouldn’t lose his mate twice.
Seth had won Kata once, but he was long dead and buried, and all bets and rules were off.
The gas lamp hanging from an iron post just inside the award-winning front garden of Dacre House highlighted the raven-blue woven into the fibers on the black hood and long cloak Kata wore. The cape swirled around her ankles, and the ancient iron creaked in a drawn out protest when she shoved the gate open.
He tracked her steps and inhaled the musk of her desire mingled with the night-blooming jasmine. He hadn’t been certain she’d come after their confrontation earlier today.
Kata climbed the stairs, her feet dragging as if she was about to put her neck on the guillotine block.
Ricco’s mouth watered. His canines tingled and his gums ached with the need to claim.
The door opened and the attendant said, “Card.”
Her graceful fingers reached under the cloak, and she opened her hand to display half of a torn tarot card. The half that matched his, the Jack of Hearts.
“Third floor. Last door on the left. Stairs are straight ahead.” The doorman hooked a thumb over his shoulder.
“I don’t understand.”
The man growled, “Those were my orders for anyone with that card. You in or out?”
For long moments Kata remained quiet.
Scenting fear tangled with her mounting excitement, Ricco waited, his fists clenched. If necessary, he’d reveal his other half of the invitation―and his identity―and drag her up to the prepared attic room.
Her face reflected indecision for a brief moment, but then she squared her shoulders and let the card drop into the servant’s outstretched hand.
Ricco sighed his relief, and his knitted neck muscles relaxed.
Kata sidled past the doorman.
Ricco splayed his fingers wide and rotated both wrists. He withdrew into a shadowed corner and, being capable of both place and form shifting, transported to the lair he’d prepared earlier. Dacre House required signed contracts from all participants before renting out a room for BDSM activities and said contract had shed a glaring spotlight on Kata’s secret fantasies.
He’d worked off most of his fury in the ring after overhearing Kata’s conversation with her BFF, Shauna, earlier.
It had taken all his willpower to leave Kata alone after Seth died. He’d signed up for another tour in Afghanistan to avoid the daily temptation of being around her. If only he had followed his instincts and teleported back often to keep an eye on her. But, no, he curled his lips. He had to be fucking honorable and give her space.
Tough titties. No more space.
Not once had he imagined Kata fantasized about bondage and submission. For crap’s sake, her husband, his stepbrother, Seth had been the ultimate metrosexual guy. Ricco knew Seth had experimented with both sexes and could’ve gone either way, but he’d fallen in love with Kata, and, being the quintessential good guy, done the right thing by marrying her.
Ricco hadn’t believed his hearing when he inadvertently eavesdropped on Kata and Shauna’s conversation. Kata wanted to experience a BDSM fantasy with a stranger, someone she’d never meet again, and Shauna had arranged the whole fricking thing with the owner of Dacre House.
The sound of stiletto heels clicking on polished wood reached his ears. He scanned the room one last time. The blue and yellow flames flickering from two multi-tiered candelabras on either side of the room cast deep shadows into the corners, but shed an eerie light over the king-size bed’s scarlet satin sheets. The sex toys he’d chosen were laid out on the right side and discretely covered by a couple of black silk scarves.
Ricco positioned himself right in front of the door.
The candles’ flames flitted right and then left when the door eased open.
He heard her sharp inhale, could almost see her compressed lips, and picked up the rat-a-tat-tat of her escalating heartbeat before she shoved the heavy slab of wood open.
She gasped, stumbled, and would have fallen if he hadn’t clamped his hands on her shoulders. Jesus Murphy, her unique fragrance had always done a number on him, but knowing he would make her his that night magnified the affect a zillion fold. He reeled and breathed more shallowly, so intoxicated by the whiff of her pussy’s sudden rush of cream that his nuts did a swift clench and jerk.
Kata tried to draw back, but he firmed his hold on her.
“I. Shauna—”
“I didn’t give you permission to speak.” He spoke in her native Venezuelan dialect and roughened his normal tone. Kata had no idea he was fluent in ten languages. Ricco figured that with his disguised voice, the Spanish, the Zorro mask, plus the fact she had never seen him minus his long hair and full beard, he had a couple of hours before her sharp mind picked up any connection. A hundred and twenty minutes to show her she was a true sub.
“I’m sorry.”
He set two fingers to her lips. “You’ve earned two penalties, doll. Care to try for three?”
Milk chocolate eyes, big and wide, peeked up at him; the blue harem veil and head covering she wore hid the rest of her face.
His dick throbbed.
Her head shake was almost imperceptible. She opened her mouth and then sucked in her lips. A smart-ass at the best of times, Ricco knew she’d just bitten back a stinging retort and had to repress a proud, that’s-my-woman grin. He schooled his features into his interrogator’s expressionless mien.
“Strip. Leave the shoes, veil, and headdress on.”
“Here?”
“Three penalties.” He wanted her off balance.
“But, anyone could—”
“Four.”
Her nostrils flared, she chewed on her lips, squeezed her eyes shut, and blew out an audible sigh before giving him a tiny nod. Throat working, she bent her head and opened the buttons of the blousy midriff top edged with gold braiding.
Ricco pushed the door closed. He jammed his palms on the carved mahogany, bracketing her head, and placed his bare feet outside her harem slippers, effectively hemming her in on all sides.
When she shrugged off the provocative I-Dream-of-Jeannie top, the first sight of her incredible breasts had him struggling for control.
Deliberately, Ricco pivoted and slowly walked to the antique sideboard on the ot
her side of the room. Forcing the image of her succulent chocolate nipples, all erect and pointy, from his head, he concentrated on setting things in motion.
“This is an opportune time to go over the rules. First, yours. Not permitted—kissing, enemas, or fisting. No nipple clamps, clit clamps, or whips. You don’t want to see my face, and I am not allowed to see yours. Have I covered everything? You may answer freely, but keep your reply succinct.”
“No names. No exchange of information,” she murmured.
“Agreed. Think carefully now, doll. Is there anything else?” Ricco poured himself a shot of Dacre House’s famous hand-brewed bourbon. He downed the liquor quickly and glanced in the mirror on the wall in front of him.
Christ almighty, she had a full thatch of inky curls.
Most of the women he’d been with on R&R in Indonesia had had waxed pubes. It’d been years since he’d seen a virgin pussy. No wonder he’d been able to sniff her arousal so clearly; those soft curls trapped her musk. He licked his lips.
His dick strained at his jeans, and the crown scraped the coarse material painfully. Going commando wasn’t helping him to dampen his soaring libido. Fuck, he wanted in her, wanted to hammer her pussy, to suckle those dark nipples, and watch her when she screamed her orgasm.
She shimmied the billowy pants down silky thighs the color of café au lait, and he glimpsed the thong-shaped narrow white strip of skin that hadn’t seen the sun anytime in recent months.
He set the shot glass down and gripped the rounded edge of the sideboard so hard a splinter worked into his thumb. Concentrating on pinching the sliver out, Ricco called on his SEAL training and regularized his breathing. Years of constant training came to his rescue. Mind cleared and focused, discipline back in play, he turned around, propped one bare foot on top of the other, and leaned a hip against the carved wood.
Dawdling as he considered the best way to proceed, he ambled to her side and caught the tip of her chin. The diaphanous veil tickled his forearm. “Another penalty, doll. You answer when asked, promptly.”
“I didn’t know if I had permission to speak twice. I shook my head.”
She grew more aroused with each word uttered. The aroma of her desire was now pungent and heady.
“Answer.”
“No, there’s nothing else.”
“Since I know this is your first time, I’ll give you some leeway. Walk over to the bed, turn to face me, and present yourself. I want a clear view of your clit. Do whatever is necessary.”
Her pupils dilated, and he heard her breathing hitch. Her nostrils quivered. She swallowed once, twice, then firmed her chin and gave him a tiny nod.
A flood of her pussy’s spice wafted to him.
He tensed every muscle in his groin to no avail. His cock wanted in her. Now.
She was afraid, aroused, and determined, his adorable Kata.
Ricco couldn’t wait to take her where she secretly wanted to go, to take care of his mate’s needs. He’d studied the multiple-choice part of the standard Dacre House BDSM contract for newbies that Kata had filled out. There had only been a couple of items on the list that had been ticked off as allowed: dildos and vibrators.
The squares for anal plugs and paddles had no X’s penned in next to them. But the form had been sweat-smudged in those spots, as if she’d held her hand over each item several times before deciding not to check either yes or no. A normal human wouldn’t have picked up such a detail, but his wolf had noticed right away.
She moved like a sex goddess, full hips swaying and ass cheeks bunching with each tentative stride. She spun about, her firm breasts rose and fell, and she set her stiletto-clad feet wide apart. Another deep breath, she thrust her hips forward, stared at a spot above his shoulder, and slowly parted the folds of her sex.
Saliva coated his tongue, and he could do nothing but gawk. His tongue tingled and coarsened. Before the clock struck midnight, he’d stamp himself over every inch of her sweet pussy.
“Finger yourself.”
Ricco stifled a wince when his leaking dick scratched the jean’s zipper. He sauntered to her, unable to concentrate on anything but her ruby-lacquered, long fingernail grazing the mouth-watering, swollen flesh cloaking her clit.
“Not the hood, doll. Your clit.” He motioned for her to widen her stance.
Pleased by her immediate obedience, he plucked her long nipples.
She moaned and then bit her lips.
“For the record, you can moan all you want. Scream even. This is a soundproofed room.”
He tugged the now swollen buds.
She swayed closer to him, and her eyelids fell to half-mast.
“Hmmm. I believe it’s time for your first penalty. From now on, I want to hear ‘yes, sir’ when I tell you to do anything.” Her head fell back when he rolled her dark caramel nipples between his fingers.
He pinched the engorged peaks.
A shudder wracked her slight frame, she arched, and her eyes glazed.
“Did I tell you to stop fingering your clit?”
She flinched. “No, sir.”
But the sight of her scarlet nails rubbing her clit inflamed him way too much. Trapping her finger, Ricco cupped her pussy and snapped, “You come only on my command.”
“Please,” she whispered.
The fervent plea stabbed a hole in the wall of his control. His stones were full-to-bursting. Christ, he’d never last the two hours she’d specified at this rate.
“On my command, woman,” he barked, too annoyed with himself to keep the irritation out of his voice. Fuck the deliberate, orchestrated claiming strategy he’d so carefully plotted.
He scooped her into his arms, marched over to the bed, sat on the mattress, and bent her over his thighs. “Bottom up in the air. Grab my ankle.”
Giving her no time to think, he snatched the paddle from the bed and swung hard enough to sting and shock her, but not enough to cause tears or pain.
Her nails scraped his skin. She yelped on the second blow, but pushed up onto her toes, and presented her pinkened butt cheeks for the next stroke.
Ricco toyed with her folds and grinned when she wriggled in an attempt to tease him into probing her puckered hole. He sucked his finger and trailed the moistened tip along the crease of her rump, lingering when she whimpered, and then rimmed the wrinkled, rosy little bud before squeezing her ass cheeks lightly.
“More,” she muttered on a low groan, indecipherable to human ears, but not to his.
He’d fricking give her more.
Ricco flipped her over and helped her to sit. Her distended nipples were irresistible, and he didn’t even try to dredge up any semblance of willpower. He cupped the luscious mounds, thumbed the mouth-watering peaks, and lowered to suck her whole areola into his mouth. He kneaded her other breast and shifted his hips from side-to-side, hoping to ease the vice grip of his now skintight jeans.
“Oh.” She snatched at his cotton T-shirt and ground her bottom over his cock.
Crap. He was ready to shoot his wad and knew from her galloping pulse and harsh, jerky rasps of breath that she was on the verge too.
Ricco lifted her so she straddled his thighs, bit each nipple hard enough to bring her back from the brink, and then captured both of her wrists. He reached back, grabbed two of the black silk scarves from the pillows, and bound her hands together.
He licked her lips.
She stiffened and drew back. “No kissing.”
Ricco quirked a brow. “Three more penalties.”
“You broke the rules,” she retorted, trying to cross her arms, and glaring at him when she couldn’t.
He had her bent over his knees again in less than a heartbeat. He flexed his fingers and gave her three, hard smacks. “Did I kiss you?”
Silence.
Three more whacks.
“No,” she squealed. “No. I’m sorry.”
“No, who?” He walloped her again.
“No, sir,” she muttered. “No, sir.”
> Ricco set her stomach down on the bed. Jesus. She had the most beautiful ass in the world. He fondled her swollen and reddened cheeks, and then ran his tongue along the enticing seam, working his way slowly down to her creamy labia. He sipped a delicious fold and groaned. She tasted better than he’d imagined, and where Kata was concerned, Ricco’s fucking-fantasies had soared beyond even his most depraved dreams.
Unable to resist, he burrowed his nose against her pussy and dipped inside for a taste. Her vaginal walls clenched around his tongue.
The fiery bolt that preceded his sprint to climax flashed across his groin. He jerked away, cupped her bottom, and surged to his feet.
Needing to regain a single thread of control, Ricco placed Kata in the middle of the bed. He had to grit his teeth and force himself to let her go.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to recall his claiming strategy, but caught the smell of her pussy on his finger and automatically sucked on the tip. An evil grin crossed his mouth.
Yeah, right.
Lick her to the brink, over and over.
Playing for time and the return of a few more functioning brain cells, he gathered his tools. When he slipped the blindfold over her eyes, she moaned.
The sensual sound shot a burst of painful lust through his groin.
He tied her hands to one of the metal panels in the bedhead.
Jesus, his tongue grew thicker and heavier in his mouth with every sexy little whimper she mewled. He nudged her thighs apart and studied her features when he widened the spread. The moment her breathing stuttered, Ricco knew he’d reached the point where she’d be ready to explode with every slight caress.
He scrambled off the bed and salivated.
“Time for your second penalty. I’ll give you a choice, ball gag or anal plug?”
*
Kata was on fire. Her clit and nipples prickled and throbbed with delicious, agonizing pain-pleasure. The full impact of Ricco’s question didn’t penetrate her lust-depraved gray matter for an eternal moment.
How had he guessed those were two of her fears and secret desires?
When she and Shauna had plotted this hook-up with Ricco here at Dacre House on Halloween night, neither had realized Kata would have to sign a contract. She had been so careful filling out the questionnaire and had definitely not checked those items.