Miranda's Rights

by KyAnn Waters

  Miranda cried out. Fire seared her passage. The blazing heat of his cock, crammed into her cunt, spiraled her into a maelstrom of erotic sensations.

  Ravenous, feral grunts sounded behind her. Jase was driven, dominant and in total control of the speed and thrust. The blunt tips of his fingers dug into her hips and he slammed into her hard. In and out. Out and in. His cock plowed through her slick folds, filled her full and penetrated deep.

  “Oh, Jase.” She couldn’t be silent. Before he even found his rhythm, he sent her spinning into oblivion. Her thighs trembled and her quivering cunt gloved to his thrusting shaft.

  “That’s the first.” He reared back, slapped her ass hard then plunged back into her drenched heat.

  Yes, she knew. The first of many orgasms if he continued to hit that special G-spot at just the right angle. Wet sounds of their bodies coming together heightened her arousal. Thrusting in, rearing back. Gloriously full then desperate to feel him slide his solid shaft into her tight sheath again.

  “Come for me, baby. Let me put a blush on this ass.” He gave her another firm smack.

  “More. Please,” she whimpered. She wanted him to slap her ass until the sting became a wild burning ache.

  “Earn it.” He reached between her legs and gently circled her clit with the tip of his finger.

  She cried out. Hard spasms rocked her core. Sweat beaded on her back and dampened her hair. She turned her face into the mattress and bit into the blankets. Her head thrashed and her arms burned.

  Jase grabbed the rope binding her wrists and jerked her arms. Leveraging higher, he rode her rough and wild. Miranda relinquished the last of her control and was lost. Her body and mind became his. Violent tremors racked her. Wave after wave carried her to a place where she could only breathe and feel. Feel Jase’s cock, his touch, his gravelly words seeping into her soul. Warmth bloomed in her chest and her heart pounded. This wasn’t submission, this was finally belonging. Pain morphed with pleasure. Euphoria numbed her mind and her only focus was Jase.

  Before the ripples of her release could fade, she began to build toward another. Her clit throbbed and her juices creamed around his shaft. She moaned and rolled her face into the blanket. The pleasure bordered on pain. Oh God, she was coming again.

  “Fuck.” A deep, intense growl burst from Jase. Losing his rhythm, his cock pulled from her cunt. He fumbled with her bindings, jerked on the knots and ripped the ropes from her wrists. Her arms were numb. Excruciating pain tore through her joints. She couldn’t move.

  Jase flipped her to her back. Spreading her thighs, he settled between them and speared into her. Ignoring the pain in her limbs, she twined her arms around his neck and forced his mouth to hers. He groaned, opened over her lips and dipped in for a taste. Tongue to tongue. Bodies joined. Her thighs locked to his hips and her legs twined behind his back. Using her heels, she dug into his butt, keeping him buried deep within her body. Her hips rolled with his, a perfect tandem of thrust and retreat.

  She smiled as they kissed.

  “Does my cock tickle?” he asked and he swiveled his hips.

  “No, but…” She gasped. Muscles in her neck strained as she arched. “I’m coming again.” Her back bowed and her channel contracted against his shaft, trying to hold him inside. “I want my spankings.”

  The pleasure was too intense. She blazed into another release. Jase pumped his hips. She hadn’t thought he could get any harder or any thicker, but he stretched her on a powerful downstroke and erupted. She felt each hot, pulsing spurt.

  Jase gasped for breath and collapsed onto her chest. She banded her arms around his shoulders. Burying her nose in his neck, she drank him in. Masculine, powerful, and the stimulating scent of sweat and sex. Her man.

  “Thank you, Sir.” She shivered yet burned. Never before had she felt as complete.

  He stilled then hovered above her and kissed her lips, kissed the tip of her nose and kissed each eye closed. “Good girl.” He leaned up and his softening erection slipped from her body. Carefully removing the condom, he tied it off and dropped it into the garbage.

  She expected him to come back to the bed. Sexual currents sizzled through her body. Jase proved he knew how to dominate her, how to control her pleasure. He should know that after such a powerful experience she would need aftercare. She needed him to hold her, touch her, to ease her through the sub drop, the time it took her to come down from the rush. At the very least, she needed him to talk to her.

  But he wasn’t even looking at her. Wasn’t smiling or teasing in his usual way. She’d seen him pissed, frustrated and even filled with grief, but he’d always been able to share his feelings with her. Just that quickly, was he pulling away?

  Chapter Three

  Miranda sat on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. What was happening? For her, what had just happened between them had been magical. She couldn’t be sure what he was thinking. Maybe Jase had struggled more than he’d let on. He hadn’t hurt her, not in any way that she didn’t want. So he shouldn’t regret what happened between them. Maybe she’d somehow disappointed him. He bent, picked up his briefs and tugged them on.

  “Jase? Is something wrong?” Hadn’t he promised a reward for each orgasm?

  “No, you were great.” He stepped into his jeans.

  “Then why are you getting dressed?” She wanted him to stay, to give her more of what she’d only sampled. “We don’t have to leave.”

  “I do.” His choppy movements reflected his agitation and his mouth formed a tight line.

  “But…I…but I—”

  “I know. But I won’t do this, not here. This is your scene. I don’t play scenes.”

  She bowed her head to keep him from seeing the moisture shimmering in her eyes. “I don’t understand. Then why would you come here?”

  “This is a BDSM fuck club, Miranda. And we just fucked.” He held his shirt in his tightly fisted fingers. “Did you want something besides a fuck?” The timbre of his voice deepened, laced with danger. “More rough sex, a little spanking?”

  Not a little. He owed her many spankings.

  Pressure built behind her eyes and her stomach roiled. Why was he doing this? He’d come for her, knew the rules. Hell, he made the rules. “No, you’re right.” And she’d been wrong—about everything except that she’d fallen in love with him.

  “No, you’re right—what?”

  She scrunched her forehead and narrowed her eyes. “No, you’re right, Sir. This is a club and we both understood the rules.” Only she’d never have believed they’d end like this, that he’d turn into such a prick. Tears burned behind her eyes.

  Stitches ripped as he pulled his shirt over his head. “Are you coming?”

  Not now, not for Jase. They’d had an agreement and he wasn’t abiding by the rules he set. Fine, but she wouldn’t show him how much his rejection hurt. She’d known. He wasn’t a Dom, not the Dom she needed. If he couldn’t reward her with an open-palm spanking, how could she expect him to use the flogger on her pussy? It was why she’d never revealed the truth of her sexual predilections. She didn’t play at BDSM. Without serving a master, she wasn’t complete. Now she feared she’d never be complete—not without Jase. Coming to the club gave her a brief encounter, kept her sane while still allowing her the fantasy of one day having more, having permanence—with someone like Jase.

  She swallowed the lump in her throat. Not someone like him—she desperately wanted Jase.

  “I can find my way home.” She crossed her arms over her bent legs, shielding as much of her body as possible.

  A muscle ticked in his jaw and his nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath. “Miranda—”

  “Just go. Please.” She blinked back tears.

  He walked to the door. His shoulders were stiff and his spine straight. Tension rolled off him in waves. She wanted to beg him to stay, tell him whatever he needed to hear to keep him by her side. But that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. What if she required more
than he was capable of giving? But tonight had proven she didn’t need, or want, more. She’d responded to Jase, his commanding words and erotic touches.

  The door creaked open and her heart hurt. He glanced over his shoulder a last time. Pain sliced through her chest. Nausea churned in her tummy.

  He paused, almost as if he wanted to say something. His mouth softened and his eyes bore hard into hers. Then he stepped from the room and the door closed.

  The hollow click left her in the room with nothing but the memory of how she felt in Jase’s arms. Drowning in the stillness, she’d never felt more alone.

  Jase had left. Without words, without care for her, without thought to her feelings. She slid from the bed and quickly dressed. At what point had he decided he didn’t want her? Was it while he was spanking her ass, when he had his cock deep in her pussy, or was it when he realized she’d need more from him once he’d taken his release? She needed his love.

  She slipped from the room, slinked down the corridor and descended the stairs to the main floor of the club. Chattering voices and muted music drifted from the main gathering area, but Miranda wasn’t in the mood for socializing, not anymore. Leaving through the back entrance, she hurried to her vehicle, slid behind the wheel and revved the engine. She just wanted to get home.

  She drove through town. No longer on the brink of tears, she could feel herself riding the edge of pissed. What did he think would happen when he stormed into a BDSM club and read the Miranda Rights to her?

  After parking in her assigned spot, she entered the complex and went to her apartment. Not even trying to be discreet, she shoved her key into the lock of her door. Tonight he wouldn’t come bursting out of his apartment demanding to know where she’d been. He knew.

  The door swung open and she slammed it closed. In bed, during sex, she was submissive. The uncomfortable heat of punishment and the exposed and vulnerable sensation of being bound created the unexplainable pleasure of submission. That didn’t mean a submissive was a doormat. A Dom didn’t make his sub feel used. He didn’t take and not give back.

  As she stalked to her bedroom, she stripped out of her clothes. Not that she could go to bed. She’d never sleep with the emotions stirring in her stomach. Had she lost her best friend tonight?

  She sank to the edge of the mattress and buried her face in her hands. Her breath came hard and fast. She couldn’t lose him. Their tryst flashed through her mind, the moist glide of his mouth against her back as he knelt behind her, the touch of his tongue to her pussy, the scrape of his calluses as fingertips drifted over her buttocks, and the sting of his palm on her flesh. She also thought of the look of rapture on his face as she’d taken him into her mouth. He couldn’t hide his pleasure any more than she could.

  Adrenaline spiked her pulse. She wasn’t assertive by nature. She’d rather please. That didn’t mean she didn’t have opinions or stand up for what she wanted. But this wasn’t about her good friend, Jase, the guy she teased and laughed with. This was about the man she trusted with her emotions and with her body. The man she wanted to serve. And he’d let her down.

  If she was ever going to find out why, she was going to have to demand some answers. She clasped her trembling fingers together, took a deep breath and stood. Changing into a pair of loose shorts and a tank top, she left her room.

  Deep breath in, slow exhale. Damn, her heart pounded and she couldn’t focus her erratic thoughts. All this time she’d been strong, fought her feelings for Jase and convinced him that she wasn’t interested in him sexually. She’d almost convinced herself. Then tonight, she’d left herself defenseless.

  She went to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. Aside from tousled hair and whisker burns on her neck, she was the same as this morning. Same blue eyes and blonde hair. Same mouth. She touched her bruised lips, remembering the taste of Jase’s kiss. The same, yet inside she’d changed. She’d risked her friendship with Jase. No, she hadn’t been the one barging into the room. That had been Jase. He’d come for her. Had he not, she would never have known how good they could be together. Never realize that he was the only one who could complete her. She belonged to him. Sometimes ignorance could be bliss.

  “What if I’ve lost him?” If she didn’t go talk to him, there would be no chance of a future together and there was a good chance she couldn’t salvage their friendship.

  Tears didn’t hurt, not like the pain swelling in her chest, but right now crying wouldn’t help. Neither did she want to wallow in her misery. She needed to talk to Jase. After splashing her face with cool water, she gathered her courage. Enough time hadn’t passed to squash the raw emotions driving her. Good. She had to remember how she felt when he’d shut the door, leaving her alone, shivering and in need of his comfort and love.

  Softly opening her door, she stared across the hall at his. She pulled her door closed and leaned against it not knowing what to say to him or how to say it. Standing there, between this moment and the next, she was afraid. This was Jase. Her best friend. And he was the man she wanted, so she’d better figure out a way to show him that she was the woman he needed.

  Taking a fortifying breath, she calmed her nerves, took three steps and gently knocked. The apartment was quiet on the other side of the closed door. Maybe he’d gone to bed. She’d never been a switch—dominant one day and submissive the next. She was always only submissive. But if he could sleep after what had happened between them, she was going to channel an assertive dominatrix and whip his ass. How many nights had he waited up to make sure she made it home safe? And then the night he leaves her in a club, he sleeps like a baby? She knocked louder.

  She heard movement on the other side of the door. Her breath caught and her hands shook. Skin was the only thing holding her together. Finally, the door opened.

  Heat rushed into her face, streaked down her spine and pooled in her pussy. The same black jeans he had on in the club rode low on his hips, the top button undone. The man exuded sex appeal. Muscular, strong, virile. He kept his left hand on the door and his right hung at his side. A half-empty bottle of beer teetered between his thumb and forefinger.

  “I’m not going to beg for answers, but I think you owe me an explanation.” She pushed past him and entered the apartment.

  He shut the door. As he faced her, he rubbed a hand down his bare torso. “I thought I was pretty clear.”

  “If you were, I wouldn’t be here.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re confusing me and I don’t like it. You have been at me for weeks about where I go at night. You take it upon yourself to find me.” Her voice lowered. “You claimed me, and then you left.”

  “I gave you what you wanted.” He set his beer on the table and approached her.

  She snorted. “You don’t truly believe that. You were in the room with me.”

  “I know.” A step closer. “You were incredible.”

  Tears blurred her vision. “Then why did you leave me? I held nothing back. Not with you.”

  “What of the others? Did you hold back with them?”

  Did his anger stem from jealousy? That was crazy. “We have to talk, Jase. I don’t think you understand what happens at Club Creed.”

  “I was there. I know exactly what happens.”

  She put her hand on his arm. The muscles in his forearms bunched and stiffened under her fingertips. “We had sex.” Emotions swirled in her tummy and pressure tightened her throat. “But you didn’t give me what I need.”

  “We both came.”

  “I can come with a vibrator. I don’t go to Club Creed to reach orgasm. I can do that on my own.” She did it nightly before she went to bed and dreamed about this man.

  “I found you in a sex club, bound and waiting for dick.”

  She’d be angry with his words if it weren’t for the pained expression darkening his eyes. She shook her head. “I knew you wouldn’t understand. That’s why I’ve never told you about the club. I know not everyone understands why a man or woman finds fulfill
ment in a BDSM lifestyle.”

  “I’m a cop, Miranda. I get off on forcing people to do what I say.” Jase sighed. “But I’m also a Dom. I always have been.” He pointed to the couch. “I feel like we’re in corners ready to come out fighting.”

  “I don’t want to fight either.” She sat and Jase took the chair across from her.

  Jase leaned forward and braced his forearms on his knees. “Your submission is a gift. A precious gift. You give that gift to strangers in a club.”

  “You’re wrong. I’ve never given myself to anyone the way I did with you. I enter into an agreement with the men at the club. I don’t care for them. They have no idea who I am.” She thumped her heart with her chest. “Not the way you know me. Those encounters are a performance. You were real.”

  “I am real and I care about you. If you just want to get beat up and then fucked, you can get that in the club. But that’s not what I want. And I won’t play. If you want to be with other men—” He stood and raked his fingers through his dark tousled hair. “Fuck.” Muscles flexed in his back.

  “I already told you that the bruises were a mistake. A scene went too far. And not that I haven’t, but I rarely have sex in the club.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he said with a sharp edge to his voice. “I can handle the truth.”

  “Truth?” Her breathing grew shallow and her pulse spiked. He would either love and accept her needs or she had to be let go. She couldn’t have his love and affection in pieces. She needed him for so much more. “I’ve always craved the punishment,” she whispered. “Not the sex. But with you, I felt different. I want the pain, but even more, I just needed to be with you.”

  Silence stretched the moment. She bowed her head waiting for the condemnation. Unable to endure the scrutiny, she slowly lifted her gaze to his. A soft smile curled his mouth. Dark brows furrowed over slate gray eyes. Passion and determination swirled in his lust-darkened irises.