Tackled by the Team

by Sierra Sparks

  “I’m one and the same.”

  I forced out a high-pitched laugh. “Billionaire by day. Dom by night. Exactly what the world needs, a BDSM superhero. What’s your superpower? Fingers faster than a speeding bullet? Ten orgasms a minute?”

  “You came into the club and into my room,” he accused. “You were planning on writing a story about innocent people who get their kinks and satisfaction in a safe, sane, and consensual environment. You came to the party under false pretenses.”

  “I was naked in front of you. You saw all of me. I’ve never…”

  Rage reddened his face. “I didn’t force you to take your clothes off. I didn’t force you to get on the bed. I didn’t force you to have multiple orgasms. I didn’t force you to get down on your knees in front of me. And don’t pretend that after we’d finished dinner, you hadn’t planned on going back to the club for more instruction.”

  I crossed my arms and glared at him. “For your information, I wasn’t.”

  “Stop lying. You wanted to go back to the club for more. You’re a sub, Mouse. Admit it.”

  “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare call me that.”

  Humiliation pushed me to say more and more, but before I said something I could never take back, I stormed away. I heard him come after me, but I didn’t stop walking until I was by the road. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me around to face him.

  I shook him off and shoved my palms against his chest, but since he was made of solid muscle, he didn’t move.

  “Don’t you ever fucking touch me again. I’m not your slave, I’m not your sub, and you’re not my master,” I spat at him.

  I flagged down a cab, and when it stopped, I gave Wyatt what I thought was a tight-lipped smile, but when I glimpsed my reflection in the passenger window, my smile resembled a rabid dog’s snarl. I slid into the cab and closed the door, being careful not the slam it.

  It wasn’t the driver’s fault I’d gotten myself involved with a lying sack of shit. I was also careful not to look back at Wyatt when the cab pulled away from the curb because if I did, I was afraid I’d go back and fall to my knees.

  ***

  Halfway to my apartment, my phone rang. It was him. I didn’t want to talk to him, or anyone else so I set my phone to silent.

  I needed time to process everything that had happened. All along he’d known who I was. At his apartment when I’d interviewed him, he knew. Last night at the club when I’d sucked his cock, he knew. I couldn’t believe it.

  How could he have put me through that? I ignored the small voice of reason attempting to make me see I was as much at fault as Wyatt was. But how could that be true? In fairness, the first night, he didn’t know, but last night, yesterday and today, he did. Fucking lying bastard piece of crap asshole.

  If I’d known the man in the mask was Wyatt Palmer, the man whose company I adored, the man who made me realize what it meant to be a journalist, would I have gone back to the club last night? Or considered going back tonight? I wish I knew the answer to that. Not that it mattered because whatever we had, or potentially had, was gone.

  Once I reached my apartment, I threw my bag onto the foyer floor, ripped off my hat and threw that onto the floor along with my mittens and coat. I wanted to throw more things. I wanted to break things. I wanted to scream and curse and argue. I paced up and down my apartment, wearing a path into the hardwoods, and when a knock rattled the front door, I didn’t have to guess who it was.

  “Paige, open up. We have to talk.”

  “Get the fuck away from my door before I call the police.”

  “If you don’t let me in, I’m going to break the door down.”

  I relented and opened up but only because on top of all the crap the universe was throwing my way, the last thing I needed was for my neighbors to lodge a noise complaint.

  “How did you know where I live?” I asked.

  “I know everything about you,” he answered.

  I had known it was a stupid question as soon as I’d asked him. A man like him could find out anything for any price.

  Damn him for being so rich. And damn him for looking so fucking hot.

  “You have five minutes,” I said through gritted teeth.

  He strode into my apartment, and I cursed myself for missing the signs. Everything about him, from his stance to his body language to the set of his shoulders was the same as the masked man’s. And, I couldn’t help but want him.

  “Tell me the truth,” he demanded, his hands bunched into fists. “Were you going to go back to the club tonight for more instruction?”

  I hesitated because after spending the evening with the masked man’s alter ego, I wasn’t sure what I’d planned to do. Wyatt didn’t need to know that all day my body had tingled at the thought of going back to the club. But during our date, I’d reconsidered everything.

  “I wasn’t going back.”

  He stepped forward until our bodies were a breath apart. “Don’t lie to me, Mouse.”

  “My name is Paige.”

  Electricity charged the air between us, and the power emanating from him hardened my nipples and soaked my panties. Damn him. Damn him. Damn him.

  “If I told you to, you would strip off your clothes and get on your knees right now,” he said, obviously feeling pretty confident that he was right.

  Red hot anger raged inside of me. Anger at him for his conceit and deceit, but more than that, more than anything, anger at myself for being so naïve and gullible.

  “You already have a girlfriend or a sub or a slave. Or whatever the fuck Vivian is.”

  “Vivian is nothing to me. We had a contractual relationship and that was it. Not a real relationship. And anyway, it’s done. It’s over.”

  “Who’s lying now, Wyatt?”

  The urge to throw things took hold again, and I picked up a potted cactus from the hall table. “You’re an arrogant fuck and a liar and a sadist and a bastard.”

  I flung the plant towards him, making sure not to throw it directly at him. My aim was pretty good; it narrowly missed his head and crashed against the door. “Next time I won’t miss.”

  I grabbed an umbrella from the coat stand, but before I could lob it in his direction, he grabbed my wrists and pinned me against the wall, forcing me to drop my weapon.

  “Enough,” he ordered. “You’re my sub, and you will do what I say.”

  “I hate you.” My estrogen-drenched and treacherous body ached for him. I wished it didn’t want him so damn much.

  “You might not like me right now, but you don’t hate me.” He pressed his lips to my cheek, and said. “I was wrong to lie, but I’m not lying when I say I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone. You’ve lit a fire inside of me and the only way I can quench it is to have you.”

  “I don’t want you.” I struggled to get away, but his grip was too powerful. “Let me go.”

  “If you want me to leave, I will, but once I walk out that door, you’ll never see me again. Is that what you want, Mouse?”

  His hard cock pressed against my stomach and I groaned in frustration.

  “That’s what I thought,” he murmured against my cheek. “I’m going to do something I haven’t done in a long time. Something I’ve thought about doing since the second you walked into my room.”

  He lowered his head and slanted his lips over mine. His kiss was deep and hard and consumed my soul. I was lost to him. I knew Wyatt Palmer was my master. Taking the kiss deeper, he slid his tongue between my lips.

  He released his grip on my wrists and continued to slowly kiss me until my head spun. My skin heated, and I wanted everything he was willing to give me.

  By the time he broke away, I was a trembling mass of need.

  “Mine,” he said, and cupped my cheeks.

  He sucked on my lower lip, drawing it into his mouth, and when he released me, that wicked smile of his tightened my stomach.

  Breathless, I pressed my back against the wall and waited for whatever came next.


  He stepped away and tore off his coat and shirt and kicked off his shoes, and when he wore nothing more than jeans, he pulled the belt from the loops.

  “When you’re with me, what’s the first thing you’re supposed to do, Mouse?”

  Desire and defiance warred within me, but I wanted him so much it physically hurt. Desire won.

  “I get undressed.”

  “I get undressed what?”

  “Master.”

  “That’s better.”

  With shaking fingers, I removed my clothes and threw them on the floor, and when I was fully naked, I planted my hands on my hips as if daring him to order me to pick my clothes up.

  He lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.

  Never had I felt as vulnerable or as strong as I did right now. I was the one in control. I held the power. And that realization turned me on more than anything.

  “Your bedroom, sub. Tonight, I’m going to show you what having a Master really means.”

  Chapter 15 – Paige Matthews

  I led the way through my untidy apartment to my messy bedroom and waited for Wyatt to comment on my lack of domestic skills.

  “The next time I’m here, Mouse, this place had better be spotless.” He lifted the comforter off my unmade bed and threw it onto the floor. “If I didn’t already have plans for you, I’d make you clean up.”

  “If I wanted a job as a cleaner, I would get one, Master.”

  “One.” He reached around my body and pinched my still sensitive ass. “I was easy on you last night. Tonight, I won’t be.”

  His warning sent a shiver of excitement through me.

  “But I’ll let you off with a caution this one and only time.” He smacked his hand off one ass cheek and then the other, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to hurt.

  I bowed my head, and said, “Thank you, Master.”

  He dropped his belt on the sheet-covered mattress. My pulse raced, and I focused on trying to regulate my breathing.

  “What do you plan to do with me, Master?”

  “Patience.” He slowly swept his warm gaze over my body, his scrutiny heating my skin. “I’m glad I finally get to see all of you in full light. You’re a stunning and sexy woman, Paige.”

  His words were sincere and warm and made me believe he honestly considered me both stunning and sexy.

  “I’m a lucky man.” He stroked the tips of his fingertips up and down the center of my body between my breasts. “I’ll never tire of touching you.”

  My nipples tightened and jutted out, aching with need.

  As if reading my mind, he brushed the backs of his knuckles over my straining nipples. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed him to bite, suck, and lick.

  He removed his hand from my body, and I gave an irritated groan. “Soon. Lay on your back in the center of the bed.”

  When I was in the position he’d requested, he took my hands one at a time and placed them above my head. He straddled my waist and picked up his belt. My muscles tensed and I sucked in a shaky breath.

  “You know I’ll never hurt you, Mouse.”

  I nodded, and whispered, “I know, Master.”

  Reaching up, he wrapped the leather belt around each wrist before securing the ends to the headboard. I tested the give. There was none. I was at his mercy. I tugged at my restraints and realization seeped into me. He could do anything he wanted, he could—

  “Mouse,” he barked, yanking me from my panic. “Trust. Me.”

  The quiet assurance in his voice helped ease my fear. Once he seemed satisfied I wouldn’t hyperventilate, he knelt on the mattress beside me.

  He reached between my thighs and stroked his fingers along my soaked folds, making my clit swell to bursting point. “This is mine.”

  He stepped off the bed and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. I would finally see him in all his naked glory. His tanned skin showed gym-honed muscles, and a happy trail I was sure led to the happiest of places. My eyes dropped to his crotch, and I waited for him to shuck off his jeans.

  Dayum!

  His erect cock was thicker and longer than I remembered. That had been in my mouth. Had been down my throat. How?

  A teardrop glistened at the tip, and I wished I could curl my fingers around his shaft, take him between my lips and swallow his hot cum.

  Eager to touch him, I yanked my restraints, but my struggles didn’t loosen the leather.

  He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked back and forth. “I can’t wait to feel your tight, virgin pussy all around me.”

  My inner muscles clenched, more than ready for him to take the one thing I’d never given to any other man. He joined me on the bed and then leaned down to kiss me. His tongue swept along the insides of my mouth, claiming me, owning me.

  While he continued to kiss me, his fingers danced over my nipples and breasts, heating my skin to nuclear levels. His fingers moved lower, lower, lower, and I spread my legs in invitation.

  “Eager little mouse, aren’t you?”

  Instead of plunging his fingers between my legs, he returned them to my breasts, and I arched my back in a feeble attempt to get closer to him. He lifted my right breast and roughly massaged before lowering his lips to my constricted nipple. He gently blew, hardening the bud even more and when he finally sucked it into his mouth, I writhed and groaned at the intense, all-consuming pleasure.

  “I need to touch you,” I gasped. “Please, Master.”

  “No, Mouse. Lesson number one: learn how to control your body’s demands.”

  His denial drove my excitement to a whole new level. He turned his attention to my left breast and repeated the same maddening torture. By now, I was a squirming, moaning mess of want.

  “Time to taste your pussy.” He slid down my body and positioned himself between my spread legs.

  My heart thundered so fast and hard that my breasts quivered with every beat. He pressed his fingers against my knees and pushed my legs even further apart, exposing my pussy to his hungry eyes.

  “Every part of you is as beautiful as the next.”

  With unbearably slow movements, he stroked my outer folds, spreading my arousal from top to bottom.

  He tilted his head, and said, “What first? My finger, my tongue, or my cock?”

  The options he’d suggested flitted through my mind. I wanted all of them. All of him. My pussy clenched in response and moisture trickled between my legs.

  “My mouth first, I think,” he said.

  He wrapped his strong arms around my upper thighs and placed a series of chaste kisses down my stomach and mound. When the tip of his tongue tapped against my clit, I almost lost it.

  “Wyatt, please,” I begged.

  He removed his tongue, and his annoyed eyes met mine. “How do you address me?”

  “Master,” I all but sobbed. “Please, Master.”

  He dipped his head between my thighs again and swirled his tongue around my throbbing clit in tight, teasing circles. Needing more, I cried out begging him to give me the release he’d refused last night. As much as I was able to, I thrust myself against him seeking relief.

  “Are you ready?” he murmured against my slick flesh.

  “God, yes.” I didn’t know what I was agreeing to, but whatever it was, I was ready.

  He slid a finger inside my pussy, and I cried out at the sweet intrusion. There was a slight sting, but that soon vanished. Nothing and no one had ever breached my walls before. If his finger felt this huge, what would his cock feel like?

  Over and over, he slid his finger in and out sending me to the brink but not allowing me to fall. My legs shook at the intensity of his torture, and when I didn’t think I could take much more, he introduced a second finger and clamped his mouth over my clit.

  “Please, Master. Please, please, please.”

  He used his tongue and his teeth to stroke and arouse me, increasing the pressure with each pass.

  He plunged his fingers into my depths and
sucked my clit hard. That was all I needed.

  For a nano-second, time ceased to exist and the world around me dissolved. A powerful climax took hold. A tornado of heat whirled within me, and I came hard, convulsing on his pumping fingers and probing tongue, screaming out as pleasure like I’d never known assaulted my thrashing body.

  The world slowly came back into focus, and dizzy and disorientated, I sank onto the mattress.

  Wyatt lowered my trembling legs and then moved until he lay beside me, his massive cock pressing against my thigh.

  “Wow,” I breathed. “I didn’t know an orgasm could feel like that.”

  “This is only the beginning,” he said, with a satisfied smile.

  My arousal coated his rosy red lips and chin. “Kiss me, Master. Let me taste myself on you.”

  If my request surprised him, he didn’t show it. He lowered his lips to mine and kissed me like he had all the time in the world. The taste of me on his lips was tangy and sweet, and more erotic than I could ever have imagined.

  He broke away, and asked, “Are you ready for me to fuck you?”

  “Hell, yes, Master.”

  “Wait right here,” he said, and left my room.

  “It’s not like I can go anywhere,” I mumbled.

  When he came back a few minutes later, a condom covered his cock. His tattoos looked strong and menacing on his chest. I loved the juxtaposition of a billionaire business man with a hard, BDSM surface underneath.

  Positioning himself between my legs again, he pushed my knees up towards my belly and then pushed them apart.

  He glanced down and smiled. “I can see every part of your pretty pink pussy.”

  Tiny, foretelling tremors rippled through me and my inner walls repeatedly clenched and released. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and ran it up and down my slit, pausing to tap the head over my still swollen and sensitive clit.

  His eyes met mine, he let his guard down, so that it was plain to see how much he desired me. With our eyes locked, he guided the helmet of his cock to my entrance, and slowly, oh so slowly, slid balls deep inside of me, taking my virginity, my heart, and my breath.