Strictly Pleasure: Hooded Pleasures, Book 2

by Sheryl Nantus

  He growled and slipped his fingers between her legs, finding her wet and waiting.

  Veronica gasped into his mouth, and Oliver allowed himself a satisfied snicker.

  I’m not that out of practice.

  She yanked his pants down around his hips, and it was his turn to grunt and groan as she stroked him, varying the frequency and keeping him off-guard.

  “Boots. Off,” she mumbled into his mouth. “Please.”

  He chuckled at the request and struggled to pull them off even as she continued to tug his pants farther down his legs, freeing him completely.

  Suddenly, she broke the kiss and slid down his torso, dropping light kisses on the way to her goal.

  “Ah—”

  Oliver arched up at the wet hot suction around his cock, almost coming right there in her mouth. He dug his fingers into his palms, using the pain to fight back from the edge.

  I’m going to die. But I’ll die happy.

  His hands, bereft of anything else to do, dug into her short-cropped blonde hair and held on tight as she licked and hummed over and around his cock.

  “No.” He wasn’t sure he’d spoken aloud until he saw her gazing up at him, frowning.

  Her confused look at his evil grin stoked the fires inside, urging him on.

  Time to turn the tables, my dear Roni.

  Let’s see if you can take it as well as you give it.

  “You first.”

  Before she had a chance to comprehend what he’d said, he’d reversed their positions and was busily kissing his way down her bare belly. He stopped every now and then to rub his stubble against the soft skin to deliver a combination of pleasure and pain.

  Judging from her moans and whimpers, it was quite effective.

  Veronica writhed under his touch, her skin inflamed from the strapping she’d received. He reached under and squeezed the tender flesh of her ass, relishing the whimpered response. Oliver dug in his nails as he worked his way to her inner core, using his tongue to its maximum effect. He knew she’d be caught between pleasure and pain, the streams merging as her sensitized nerves smashed up against his licks and nibbles, his ruthless strokes with his tongue.

  The combination of internal and external stimulation did what he wanted.

  Veronica’s keening squeal shot through him like a lightning bolt.

  Oh God.

  He shattered right there with her, emptying himself on the carpet like a horny teenager on his first date.

  She went limp under him, arms lolling out to the side.

  Oliver used the last of his strength to push himself up to lie alongside her. His pulse pounded in his ears, and he wasn’t sure if he hadn’t torn more than one muscle during the brief time they’d been on the floor.

  He dragged his fingers along the leather collar she wore. It was warm to the touch, wet where her sweat had soaked it.

  “Roni.” He sighed. “My Roni.”

  She took hold of his hand and drew it to her lips. A light kiss, and he was feeling lightheaded all over again.

  “I sort of like this.” Her free hand trailed over the dark brown band. One finger tangled in the metal ring at the base of her neck. “Although I’m not sure I’m comfortable with what this could be used for.”

  “Use your imagination. I can.” He kissed her, a light brush of lips compared to the heated attack he’d mounted on her earlier.

  The blush on her cheeks faded as they lay there, both of their heartbeats returning to normal as they cuddled.

  Oliver ached all over, but nowhere more than in his heart.

  Game over.

  He allowed himself a few more minutes of peace before pulling away. It took all his remaining strength to get to his feet and attempt to get dressed.

  “What’s the rush?” Veronica smiled as she sprawled on the floor, comfortable with her nakedness.

  Another rush of lust shot through his veins at the sight, his cock already stirring for a repeat performance.

  No.

  “It’s time for you to go.” He struggled with his zipper and finally forced it closed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that happen. A Dom is responsible for his submissive. You’re vulnerable. Damned vulnerable right now, and I took advantage of that, of this. I’m sorry.” He knew he was babbling and couldn’t stop it, couldn’t force the words to form a straight sentence.

  “Let what happen?” Her face shifted from sated to confused in a flash. “This? You’re unhappy with this?”

  “I’m not unhappy,” he started. “God—” Oliver shook his head. “I’m not—” He ran his hands through his hair as he searched for the words. “This wasn’t in the plan.”

  “The plan.” She stretched out, and he was transfixed at the sight of the gorgeous white skin, the softness beckoning him to fall back into her arms and launch another attack on both their senses. “The six sessions I needed to complete for you to sign the damned form to let me back into the club.”

  He nodded. “I agreed to six sessions. No more, no less, and all by the book. This—” He swept his hand over her. “This wasn’t part of it.”

  “I never thought it was. Maybe the beginning of it, but not the ending. Not this.” Veronica ran her hand along the carpet. She sat up and stared at him. “This wasn’t something you set out to do. This was—” She stumbled to find the words. “This was us. You and me.” Her forehead furrowed. “I’m not going to apologize.”

  “You shouldn’t. I should. To you.” Oliver didn’t go near her for fear of falling for her again. “This is totally against the rules.”

  “The rules,” she repeated as she got to her feet. Veronica placed her hands on her hips, secure in her nudity. “The same rules you broke by bringing me here instead of doing it at my flat. The rules you broke by coming to my café outside our appointments. The rules you broke by basically kidnapping me an hour ago out of my damned office because I skipped an appointment?” Her lips curled into a smirk. “Those rules?”

  “Those rules.” He cleared his throat. “My job was to enlighten you as to what a submissive experiences, maybe see if you were truly a sub. We found the truth. Now it’s time for us to go our separate ways.”

  “What?” She glared at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She gestured at the spreader bar hanging nearby. “After this—”

  “What happened here—” He forced the words out past the pain. “It was a mistake. I took advantage of you, and I’m sorry about that.” He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. “I shouldn’t have. It violates everything a Dom is about.”

  “Are you kidding me?” She strode up to him and poked a finger into his chest, hard enough to choke a grunt out of him. “In case you don’t remember, I know what it’s like to be a Domme and have sex with a submissive” She pointed at the carpet. “This wasn’t that.” Veronica blushed. “This was way more than that. And for the record, you didn’t take advantage of me. I could have safe-worded out at any time and didn’t.” She wet her lips, the simple action sending a jolt right to his groin. “You know this wasn’t just about the scene. We connected, and we made love.”

  “No.” He took a step back out of her control zone. “This was wrong. I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I’ll sign off on the forms. You can return to Boots ’n’ Chains.”

  She shook her wrist at him, indicating an imaginary bracelet. “With what? Gold or silver?”

  “Whichever you want.” His skin tingled where she’d poked him, the pain reverberating out from her angry touch. “I’m sure Matthew will give you either. But I think we both know you’re a natural submissive. You’ll be happier if you take the silver.”

  “Okay. Okay.” She paced back and forth. “So what happens to us?”

  “There is no us.” He gestured at the pile of clothing. “You get dressed and leave. I’ll have the car take you back to your
office if you’d like.”

  Veronica snorted. “After this?” She motioned at the floor. “I walk in there and everyone will know what I’ve done. Not exactly proper when I’ve been firing people all day.”

  As she said the words, her lower lip began to tremble. “I’ve got to finish out closing the café.”

  “I know.” He wanted nothing more than to pull her close, reassure her there was life after this. Instead, he jammed his hands in his pockets. “Please.”

  “This was more than just a pity screw.” Her voice softened and ripped right through his heart. “We got each other there, didn’t we? We touched—” She pressed her palm over her heart. “We did.”

  Yes.

  And that’s why I have to let you go.

  “It’s”—He crossed his arms—“complicated.”

  Veronica raised one eyebrow. “I’ve got some free time right now.” She put her hands on her hips. “Please. Feel free to enlighten me.”

  “You were—I’m—” He pressed his lips into a tight line before continuing. “We’re in a vulnerable state, both of us. You’re learning about yourself and I’m, I’m—”

  She raised the other eyebrow.

  “You deserve to find a proper Dom at the club. Not someone who was paid to take you there, show you the Promised Land.”

  She scowled, but he saw the grain of doubt he’d planted take root.

  He shook his head. “This isn’t good for you. You need to return to the club, take the silver and see what’s out there for you. I can’t hold you back from that, and I won’t.” He drew a shuddering breath. “No matter what I may want.”

  Veronica hugged herself, and he knew he’d struck home.

  “Whatever we had here, have here I can’t hold you to it. I won’t.” He walked toward the door. “I’ll go call the car. It should be here by the time you get dressed.”

  Oliver walked through the door before she could say anything else.

  Veronica’s hands were shaking as she forced her shoes back on.

  He’s right. And so damned wrong at the same time.

  I know what I want.

  A twinge of doubt crept in.

  And what if he’s right? You’re vulnerable right now on a number of fronts, and there’s a reason those rules are in place.

  But—

  Her heart ached as she buttoned her blouse.

  He’s got to know there was more to this than just an emotional fling. Doesn’t he? Isn’t there?

  “Oliver?” She went into the hall and called out, “Oliver?”

  “Down here.”

  He stood by the front door. He’d changed out his leather pants for jeans and a white shirt, looking nothing like the Dom she’d dragged to the ground and loved not so long ago.

  “The car’s here. He’ll take you wherever you want to go. I’ll call HP and let them know we’re done here. I’ll sign off on the papers, and you’ll be cleared to return to Boots ’n’ Chains by tomorrow night.”

  “Are we really done?” She stood in front of him, challenging him to look her in the eye. “Are you going to try to deny this? You don’t even want to explore it?”

  He pressed his lips into a tight line but said nothing.

  “Here.” Veronica dug in her purse and pulled out her coiled leather collar. She grabbed his hand and pressed it into his palm. “I guess I won’t need it anymore. Whoever I end up with will give me his own.”

  Before he could reply, she headed out the door.

  I can’t make him forget Melissa.

  I don’t want to.

  Her vision blurred with tears as she slid into the cab and gave her home address.

  Oliver’s fingers tightened on the leather strap as he watched the car drive away.

  This is the right decision.

  Not right for you maybe—but right for her.

  He slid his cell phone out of his back pocket and dialed a familiar number.

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like to talk to Wendy if she’s available. If not—”

  “Hold on, Oliver. She’s around the corner.” The canned music came in, and he headed for his kitchen.

  Halfway there, he paused and changed course for the private bar in his living room.

  “Oliver? How are you doing?”

  “Fine.” He dropped the leather collar on the countertop and scanned the well-stocked shelves.

  The twenty-year scotch is a good start.

  He picked up the bottle and studied the label.

  For now.

  He poured the amber liquid into a short square glass.

  “I’m calling to tell you I’m done with the assignment. I’m signing off on this one as completed.”

  “Really.” There was no judgment in the single word but a whole world of curiosity. “According to my calendar you’ve got one session left.”

  “I know.” He took a sip and groaned as the scotch burned his throat, igniting a fire in his belly he knew he’d regret later. “But I’m done. We’re done.”

  Wendy’s tone changed, the words rolling out like machine-gun fire. “I’m calling crap on this one. What happened? And don’t you dare tell me nothing. I’ll come on over there and put you on your knees, I don’t care how much of a Dom you think you are.” Her voice rose. “Tell me the whole story. And don’t leave anything out unless you want me at your front door.”

  Oliver held back a chuckle at the mental image. Upsetting her more wouldn’t make this any easier. “Veronica is a natural submissive. It was an easy push. She’s accepted her role and she’s ready to return to the club, probably with silver. She might go back to gold, but I doubt it.”

  In his mind’s eye, he saw her in front of him, pupils wide and dilated, flourishing under his hand.

  Silver. She is definitely going to wear the silver bracelet.

  He downed the rest of the drink and coughed.

  She’s destined for some lucky man.

  Not for me.

  “I guess Matthew might be happy with that explanation as long as he doesn’t get any more complaints. I’ll refund part of his fee due to the sessions being cut short. And I’ll tell him it’s five sessions instead of six because—” she prompted.

  “Like I said. We didn’t need any more time. She’s ready.” He wiped his mouth.

  “Are you?” Wendy asked.

  The question brought him up short.

  Oliver frowned. “Ready for what?”

  “To move on.”

  “From Veronica? Sure.” He poured himself another shot of liquid courage. “I’m done with Hooded Pleasures as we discussed. My last assignment, and I’m finished. Thank you for all your help and for your money, and I’ll see you at the club. I’ll send over the documents as soon as I get to my computer.”

  Oliver couldn’t shut up and had no idea why.

  “That’s fine with me. We’ll miss you, but that’s what we agreed on.” A slight pause, enough to push him to drink again. “I’m wondering why you cut your time short with Veronica. Had no idea she could be such a fast learner. How odd.”

  “Nothing to it. She caught on fast, figured it out in her mind, and we agreed to finish up early. Roni’s dealing with a lot of exterior issues.” He took another sip. “Her father basically put her out of business, so she’s got to fire her staff and liquidate her café.” Oliver shook his head. “A damned pity ’cause it was working out great for her. Good food, good service and keeping independent of the big companies.”

  “Wow. That’s heavy stuff,” Wendy replied. “But she found time to make her sessions with you?”

  He shifted his feet. “I made it important. She needed the release, the loss of control. I’m sure she feels much better for it.” Oliver tried to make it sound clinical, almost boring.

  He couldn’t afford t
o show Wendy how Veronica had gotten under his skin.

  “Very perceptive of you. So you’re ready to move on from Melissa?”

  His late wife’s name froze him in place.

  “I’m as ready as I’m ever going to be,” he said.

  “What’s that mean?”

  He studied the label on the bottle. “I’ll never forget her. She was my first true love, my beautiful sub. But I think she’d want me to be happy.”

  “So you’ll look around for another woman. Might I suggest Veronica? Or Roni?”

  Oliver snapped his head up, almost dropping his glass. “Why would you say that?”

  The snort almost deafened him. “Because you’re cutting an assignment short for a crap reason. I can tell by your voice there’s something happening, something happened.” She corrected herself. “So what the hell is going on between the two of you?”

  “Nothing. Nothing I want to share,” he backtracked. “I’ll be fine. She’ll be fine.” Oliver returned to reading the label. “She’s got a strong spirit. The Dom who wants her is going to have to work for it.”

  “That should be interesting to watch. Just imagine all those men seeking to take her in hand. Might be quite the show.”

  He frowned, seeing Veronica at the club waiting to be chosen. Waiting to be led to a back room and pushed to her limit in search of pleasure.

  Not only the emotional rush of subspace, of handing over complete control to a man.

  Who wasn’t him.

  “Are you going to be there at her coming-out?” Wendy asked.

  “Of course not.” It took a concentrated effort to keep the hiss out of his voice.

  “Of course not,” Wendy repeated. “I was wondering if you’d like to make an exception in this case. Ah, well. Next time you’re in, I’ll buy you a drink.”

  “Thanks.” He hesitated, unsure this was truly the end of the conversation.

  “I’ll pass the information back to Matthew. He’ll be pleased to hear it. How’s the bookstore business doing? And thank you for the autographed book. I’m loving it.”