Master of Mine: Masters of Haven Book One

by Dark, Raven

  Nick’s hips thrust forward hard and brutal, and Zoe let out a horse cry so full of hunger that Gwen was sure she’d slipped out of role.

  “My sweet little wife.” He pushed her hair out of her face and ran his tongue along her cheek, a long, possessive lick, and gave her another thrust.

  She made an unintelligible sound, but it dripped with need even while she struggled.

  “Yeah. You be nice to me, and I’ll be real good to you.” Another sharp thrust.

  Gwen nearly groaned and had to fist the arms of the chair to keep from finishing herself off right there. Archer’s hand had left hers, abut his fingers ran slowly up her arm to her shoulder, a teasing stroke that sent a pleasant shiver through her.

  “You like what you see?” The soft rasp made her pussy throb.

  Gwen couldn’t have denied it if she’d tried. She nodded, breathing fast and shallow.

  Nick quickened, his movements violent, and Zoe whimpered and bucked against him helplessly, her face twisted in a mix of climax and shock.

  “Such a good wife.” Nick sat up, seized her hips and gave her a series of final, angry thrusts, grunting in release. Zoe screamed and her own role dropped like a hamper. She thrashed against him, clawed at the carpet, cries of pure ecstasy ringing out.

  Archer’s hand clamped over Gwen’s, a hard, intense grip. Gwen squeezed back, swallowing a moan as Nick and his wife came down from their release. Nick gave her little thrusts to draw out her orgasm, and Zoe ground into him with soft sighs.

  The intensity of it washed over Gwen, spiraling though her like hot lava, wringing her out. When Nick rolled over and drew Zoe with him so that she lay across his chest, encircling her in his arms, Gwen turned her face to Archer.

  The intense look in his eyes matched the emotions that roiled in her. A strange sense of kinship with him hit her swift and hard, right in the chest.

  “Wow.” Her breathing filled her ears.

  “Oh, yeah.” Archer’s hand massaged hers and he smirked. “You wanna try it?”

  11

  Where Do We Go From Here?

  You wanna try it?

  Gwen’s brain short circuited. “You mean you want to...” Her throat went dry. A real scene, with Archer. She looked at the room where Nick and Zoe had already left, then back at him.

  Archer’s face went strangely blank. “Oh. Er. No, I didn’t mean with me, or now. I meant, with a Dom. You know, sometime.”

  A shaky breath left her, even while disappointment coiled in her chest. She must have imagined the fierce light in his eyes before his face masked.

  “Oh, right.” She forced a laugh. It was just as well. He was the last man she should be doing anything sexy with, much less a crazy scene like that.

  Out in the main part of the club, Archer led her through the crowd to a couch at the back of the room. “You didn’t answer my question, Gwen.” His smile was crooked as he seated himself and pulled her into his lap. “Would you do a ravishment roleplay scene?”

  Nervousness heated her skin. She’d only had sex twice, if you could call the clumsy disasters she’d went through sex, both with the same inexperienced guy. The idea of making herself as vulnerable as Zoe had with Nick, of doing something so intense with a man, baffled her. But it also sent a frisson of excitement through her. And if it was Archer… she swallowed.

  “I dunno, Sir. It was awesome to watch, but I’d be too nervous.”

  Archer set his fingertips on her cheek and turned her face so she met his gaze. “The right man could fix that.” His voice was husky.

  “Have you done a scene like that before, Sir?”

  He said nothing, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “Wait a minute.” She lifted her head, her eyes widening. “You said you like when a woman fights. That’s what you meant, isn’t it?” His hand suddenly felt hot on the back of her nape.

  “Sometimes, yeah.” Archer’s thumb grazed over her cheek. “I don’t need to be an asshole in bed all the time, though.” His wicked smirk made her tummy dance. “I can be a nice guy.”

  Oi. She just bet he could. She’d seen his gentle side, but she’d also seen what he was like when he wanted to be a brute. Would he be as mean as Nick in a ravishment scene? As ruthless?

  Images of Archer shoving her across the back seat of his car, pinning her there with his weight filled her mind. His mouth brutalizing hers as he shoved her fists away, ripped her pants open and pushed his down… She shifted on his lap, but stopped herself before he noticed.

  “You okay?” Archer’s warm breath fanned her face.

  Shit. She was fisting his shirt. She nodded and tried to relax, act casual, but the images of Nick and Zoe in that riveting scene were still so vivid, her mind wouldn’t stop replacing them with her and Archer.

  “That scene was intense, hmm?” His fingers stroked through her hair. Rats, he thought it had been too much for her.

  “Yeah, but I loved it.”

  “Then what’s the matter?” When she lowered her eyes, he nudged her head with his shoulder and tipped her chin up with his fingers.

  “It… it’s nothing, Sir.” But the instant she met his studying gaze, her cheeks betrayed her, flaring up. God damn her blushing!

  “Gwen.” His fingers held her jaw in place, gentle but commanding. “Talk to me. Communication is still key here. Spill, or do I have to drag it out of you?”

  A grin yanked her lips. “How do you plan to do that?” God, had she actually said that?

  The low rumble in his throat told her she had. His fingers traced the line of her chin, only this time it had a threatening feel. “I have my ways. You want to challenge me, I can find uses for that mouth.” One finger traced her bottom lip.

  “Uses, Sir? You wouldn’t.” She’d heard Doms say things like that to their subs. Her mouth watered and she almost pressed further into his lap.

  His smirk was pure wickedness. “Wouldn’t I?” He drew her hips closer and ground himself against her. His hard length pressed into her thigh. “See what you do to me?”

  “Archer… Sir, I don’t think…”

  “You think too much.” He leaned in, and the heat from his mouth electrified hers. Her heart went wild in her chest.

  “But I just…”

  “Gwen.”

  “Sir?”

  “Shut up.”

  Before she could reply, his lips claimed hers.

  The heat that flooded her was instantaneous and dizzying. Archer’s mouth crushed hers, hot and hard, powerful. For an instant, her mind could only chant what a mistake this was.

  Gwen whimpered, every circuit in her brain going haywire as she tried to turn her head away.

  Archer made a low warning sound in his throat and gripped the back of her head. His mouth hardened on hers, his tongue shoving inside with a hungry, authoritative thrust.

  She opened for him, tasting his tongue, hesitant at first. The approving rumble he made encouraged her, and she let her tongue dart over his, exploring, cautions. He fisted her hair, angling her head, and his tongue went crazy, ravaging.

  Just when she thought she’d go mad with the onslaught, Archer broke the kiss, putting his mouth to her ear.

  “You have no idea what you do to me, do you, sweet thing?” He nipped her ear and she shivered with delight. The predatory gruffness in his voice sent a thrill through her. “I’ve wanted you since the first time you walked into my dojo. I don’t know how long I can control myself if you keep this up.”

  Gwen panted burying her face in his neck as her skin warmed. “This… this could get complicated, Sir.”

  “I know. But I can’t make myself care.” He grinned against her neck, dropping hot kisses along the sensitive line of her shoulder, up to her ear again. His hands roved over her waist and back, searing her skin. He pulled back and looked at her. “I want you, Gwen. You have no idea how much.”

  She bit her lip, toying with a button on his shirt. He tipped her chin up.

  “I want you to com
e home with me tonight. But I’m not ordering you as a Dom. I’m asking you as an equal.”

  An equal. The implications hit her straight in the heart. He saw her as an equal. She could see it in his eyes. The need, oh, the need, but also the warmth, the compassion, the tenderness. But most of the time he was so abrasive, she could hardly have imagined this.

  His eyes searched hers, and the hope in them made him look so vulnerable. Suddenly he was no longer a powerful sensei, lethal and brutal, successful in his art and untouchable. He wasn’t a Dom, skilled in the art of submitting women. He was just a man, and he wanted to be with her.

  “I want you too, Archer.” She made a point of using his name, not the familiarity, and his mouth turned up in an approving smile. “It’s just…”

  “What?” His fingers stroked her nape. Reassuring.

  “Umm, I don’t have a lot of experience.”

  His brow furrowed. “You’ve never been with a man before?”

  “No. I mean, yes, I have. But it was a disaster. He was terrible, and so was I.”

  “I doubt you were terrible.” He chuckled, his mouth gently probing hers. “And why would it matter you haven’t been around?”

  “Well, its just, you must have had….”

  “Gwen, stop.” Archer’s eyes danced and he took her hands.

  She flushed.

  “How skilled you are makes no difference. I’ll show you what to do.”

  She chuckled. She just bet he would. A delicious flutter tingled in her belly. He ran his hands up along her back, sending electrical currents through her. His palms rode up to her shoulders, and she loved the way they dominated her frame, made her feel so fragile. The smile he gave her heated her blood.

  “Wanna get out of here?”

  Again, asking her. She loved the way he took care to make her feel like his equal, forgoing protocol even though they were still in the club.

  Gwen nodded. “But…”

  “Mmm?”

  “I… I loved the scene Nick and Zoe did. But I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

  “I wouldn’t expect that.”

  His mouth brushed hers in a long, lingering caress. Then he put his mouth to her ear again, and his voice was a growl.

  “Make no mistake, though. Tonight, I’m going to make love to you until you know exactly what you do to me. Next time, I’ll fuck you.”

  12

  Madness Waiting

  Rage. Oh, he had never felt so much burning, all consuming rage.

  Fists tightening, he wove through the crowd, keeping his head low. The dark wig he’d chosen left longish bangs to fall into his face, hiding most of his features if his head was down. All the easier to avoid all the cameras he’d taken weeks to scope out, but without looking like he was avoiding them.

  The scene between Kincaid and his bitch wife flashed through his thoughts, fueling the heat in his blood. He needed to get out of here before he ended up grabbing Gwen and slinging her over his shoulder, carrying her out of this den of depravity.

  The dim lights that permeated The Sanctuary made him grateful no one could see his face unless they looked too closely. Wickedness. Perverts, all of them. He’d have given anything to see someone torch this place. Watch it all burn, cleansing this small part of his otherwise wholesome city.

  He knew a firebug or two, and he seriously considered contacting one, and then arranging to make sure that demon Drake was here when it went up.

  Fuming, he stalked across the darkening lot to his car. Once inside, he pounded the steering wheel with his palm. He had to stay in control, and keep his distance until the time was right. If he messed up now, he’d lose her forever. And hell’s gates would open if that happened.

  A couple getting out of their car beside him waved and he plastered on a practiced smile. Grey haired in slacks and knitted sweaters, they hardly looked like the freaks they obviously were.

  Yes, he bet they’d been wholesome once. How long ago had Kincaid corrupted them with his wickedness? Corrupted them and blackened their souls with temptation and wanton sex acts, the way he’d done to Lila? She’d been sucked in too, and now sometimes he hardly recognized his own sister anymore.

  All the way home, his mind raced. How long before Gwen underwent the same filthy transformation? Before his once pure, sweet angel became as dark and seedy as them?

  If Drake had his way, judging by the scene he’d just watched them take in, she’d be knee deep in hedonism in months.

  Pulling in the driveway, relief washed over him that Lila’s car wasn’t there. If he saw her now, he’d probably do something he regretted. Then where would his Gwen be?

  Inside the house, he hunted up the key to the basement. Then he slipped down the stairs to a private room he hadn’t been in since he’d set it up. A calm focus slipped over him when he was down here. Here in this place he’d arranged just for her.

  Thanks to that scene at the club, he’d have to alter his plans.

  He looked around and a smile touched his lips. It was still perfect, exactly as he needed it to be for her.

  Much more centered, he crossed the small room to a clothesline on the wall, which stood as a closet. He pulled a single article of clothing from the line, a faded yellow summer dress with faint little lavender blossoms. He ran his hand down the front of the dress and tried to imagine Gwen’s soft, curvy frame draped in it. Nothing would compare to the real thing.

  Heart quickening at the thought, he kissed his fingertips, then pressed them to the collar of the dress, wishing it was her lips.

  “It won’t be long now, angel.”

  13

  Nervous

  Twenty minutes after leaving the club, when Archer pulled up in front of his apartment, his words still rang in her head.

  Next time, I’ll fuck you. She couldn’t decide which filled her with a bigger thrill, the implication there would be a next time, or that next time he wouldn’t be as gentle as he was tonight.

  When he shut off the car, she glanced around his street. So, Archer only lived a few blocks from her, in the western end of Haven. A small, well maintained street, with large apartment complexes offering views of the mountains that surrounded the town, and cozy houses meant for businessmen, bachelors. He also lived close to Ace. That thought made her frown.

  Archer’s hand closed around hers. “You all right?” A husky rasp in the near darkness that enfolded the inside of the car.

  She looked across the seat at him. Only the street lamps illuminated his gorgeous face.

  “You’re nervous.” His thumb caressed the back of her hand.

  Shit. Her palms were sweaty. “Sorry. It’s not you.” Damn it, Gwen, relax.

  His teeth flashed in the darkness, then he lifted her hand, kissing her fingers. “I’m kind of hoping it is.”

  Her stomach fluttered. Oh, if only he knew how off balance he made her.

  As soon as Archer released her hand and opened his door to get out she gave her palms a hasty wipe on her jeans. Jesus, Gwen, don’t fuck this up.

  “Don’t you even think about opening that door, woman.” Archer’s eyes danced, looking at her hand on the door. She cocked her head at him.

  “You do know women have been capable of opening their own doors for hundreds of years now, right?”

  She rolled her eyes as he got out and came around to her side. He offered her his hand. She looked up at his face when she stood on the pavement next to him. “We can pull out our own chairs and dress ourselves, too.”

  Archer stepped close enough to just barely press himself against her, all hardness and muscle. His hands slowly encircled her waist, his eyes dark and intense on her face.

  “So mouthy, I like it. But I take care of my woman, You wanna be with me, get used to it.”

  Since they weren’t in scene, she resisted the urge to say “yes, Sir.”

  Archer led her into the building and up to his apartment. Inside, she glanced around, eyes widening.

  “Wow. I wasn
’t expecting this.”

  She expected him to maybe work out at home but it looked like he lived in a dojo. One corner had a punching and speed bag put up, a mat against one wall. Weapons hung on almost every wall, arranged similarly to the dojo. The largest space in his apartment was set aside for training. A single glass door let out onto a balcony, and a couch and small entertainment center took up a small section.

  Archer kicked off his shoes with a smirk. “What were you expecting, a penthouse suite?” She flushed and he shrugged. “I make good money with Iron Fist, we have lots of students, but I’m not into high class shit. As long as I have a bed, a stove, and a space to train, I’m good.”

  “My father would be horrified if he knew you lived like this.” She chuckled, following him to a couch that sat in front of a TV. “No carpets, no trophies displayed.”

  “You want to see my trophies, they’re in there.” He nodded casually to a cabinet against one wall. A set of double doors left nothing visible within. “You want a drink?”

  “Just water, thanks.” For some reason she couldn’t relax.

  Archer disappeared down a hall to a small kitchen and water ran briefly before he returned. He handed her a glass of water, carrying a cola for himself. He seated himself beside her. Watching her intently with a slight curve to his mouth that sent a shiver of heat through her.

  Unsure what to do with herself, Gwen gulped the water down. Cleared her throat and looked anywhere but at him.

  “Gimme that.” He held out a hand for the glass. She looked down. She was twisting it in her hands. She rolled her eyes and handed him the empty glass.

  “I’m sorry, Archer. I’m not very good with this sort of thing.”

  “Not good with what?” He shifted closer to her and leaned back on the couch, slouching into it. So casual, so relaxed, so hot.

  “Being with a guy. You know, dating.”

  He smirked. “You’re doing fine right now.” He ran his hand over her back. It amazed her how much it soothed. “Maybe it’ll make it easier if we start with setting the rules.”