by Gemma James
Keeping my hands clasped at my back, I leaned forward and ran my tongue along the underside of his cock. The tiny breath he took, sucked in between clenched teeth, was my reward. I softened my lips and pressed a kiss on his tip. His arousal moistened my lips, teased my tongue with the salty taste of him.
He groaned, his fingers sifting through my hair, holding me to him with a tender, hypnotic caress as he pushed into my mouth, shoving deep so I had no choice but to take his entire length.
He moaned as he plundered, his hips swiveling with each thrust, his cock as forceful as it was merciful. The need in him took over, and his pace increased. Breathing escalated—his and mine.
Shit, he was in a weird mood. Gage either fucked me hard, regardless of what hole he was using, or he just…loved me. Something about this felt in-between, on the edge of a brutal mouth fuck. Yet I sensed his restraint, and it confused the heck out of me.
“Kayla—” He halted with a gasp, his cock throbbing on my tongue, the head finding respite between my tonsils. My gag reflex kicked in, spasmed around his shaft.
He breathed in ragged bursts. “You know what gagging does to me.”
I did, and I was bewildered because he held back instead of shoving deeper. I lifted my eyes, and I would have gladly knelt at his feet all day, his cock taking residence between my lips, if he’d look at me like that forever. With heated, indigo eyes that imparted his obsession in waves of longing, lust, and possessive madness.
I yearned for all of those things—yearned for our bodies twisted in the sheets, slick with the kind of sweat only mind-blowing sex could inspire. And I ached. Hell, how I ached and craved and thirsted for his weight on me, for his fists pinning my wrists to the bed. Taking what was his.
Leaving me helpless to stop it.
A shiver traveled through me. I whimpered, resisting the urge to touch myself, and silently begged him with my gaze.
He gritted his teeth. “You’re not coming.”
My heart sank, and I slammed back to reality with a harsh jolt. What if he’d found out about my clandestine meeting with Ian? What if this was all a sick and twisted game, and I’d be better off coming clean? With my mouth full of cock, I couldn’t even do that.
“Don’t give me that look. You always think the worst of me. Stop thinking you’re being punished because you’re not. I’m not coming either.” He closed his eyes for a few moments and just breathed, as if he couldn’t fathom not climaxing down my throat.
I couldn’t fathom it either.
“Baby…” His eyes popped open, and he inhaled, exhaled. “We’re not coming until we celebrate the day I got your stubborn, sexy ass down the aisle.” Letting out a furious groan of frustration, he pulled out then helped me to my feet.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What are we doing down here then?”
Hauling me into his arms, he attacked my mouth as he carried me across the room. We all but fell into the St. Andrew’s cross, his hands supporting my ass as my legs wrapped around his waist, our tongues clashing in battle. In the space of a few minutes, the basement had gone from freezing to an inferno. Perspiration crawled between my cleavage, bathing my skin in a sheen of pure lust.
We broke apart, and our eyes met and held.
“What we’re doing down here,” he began, nipping my bottom lip, “is beginning a torturous week of teasing.” Another nibble, and then he whispered, “Practicing restraint through denial.” He tempted the seam of my mouth with his tongue, and I parted my lips, inviting him inside again. “Practicing the art of edging.”
Inch by agonizing inch, he pushed his cock into me, right to the hilt, and pinned my back to the wall with nothing more than his strong body.
“Arms up,” he said.
I lifted my hands, already reaching for the chains meant to shackle me.
“You feel so damn good.” His groan of self-control vibrated against my lips. He fumbled with the chains for a few moments, too caught up in the blaze roaring between us. Finally, he locked the cuff around my left wrist. “Too fucking good.”
“So do you,” I whispered, trembling as he pulsed inside me. “I need more.”
“Who am I?”
“My Master.” I gave him the title without hesitation. Would have given anything to feel him move.
He worked on securing my right wrist, and soon I hung from the cross, held up by nothing more than my wrists and the power in his thighs, the force of his cock.
“Tell your Master what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me.” Except I didn’t. I wanted more. I wanted his body wrapped around mine, his arms caging me within his warmth and protection.
I wanted his love.
I hungered for the last decaying brick of his fortress to crumble, because even after being his wife for a year, he still hid parts of himself from me. Parts of himself I feared he’d never uncloak. It was easier to command me, to have me on my knees with his cock in my mouth, or bent over our mattress while he beat and fucked me than to expose the tatters of his soul.
“I’ll fuck you,” he said, thrusting in a slow, sadistic way designed to make me his. To keep me at his feet, underneath him, against the wall. “But sliding in and out of your sweet cunt won’t end in orgasm for either of us. Think beyond sex. If you could have anything, what would it be?”
“To not be helpless.” Once the words were out, settling between us, there was no taking them back.
He glanced at my outstretched arms. “Yet here you are, your cunt begging to cream on my cock.” He withdrew then dived in with a brutal thrust. A cry tore from my lips, part pain, part ecstasy.
“What do you want, Kayla?”
“Your submission.” I felt my eyes go wide. Where had that come from? Someplace deep inside that craved him at my mercy, where he could deny me nothing. Demand nothing. “You submitted once. I want that again.”
He stilled inside me. “That’s what you really want?”
I remembered him beneath me, his hands tied to the headboard, muscles straining with unchecked power. Remembered how teasing him to insanity had been the most intoxicating night of my life. His desperation and frustration. The way he’d watched me as I brought myself to orgasm again and again. How he’d given me a piece of himself he’d never planned to give.
Yeah. I wanted that again.
My silence must have been answer enough. He pulled out, lowered me to my feet, and stepped back, appreciation blanketing his face as he studied his helpless slave whose body begged for whatever he was willing to give.
He rubbed his jaw, considering. “If you can go the whole week without coming, I’ll think about it.”
My jaw about dropped to my breasts.
“But don’t think I’ll make it easy,” he warned. “I’ll have you out of your mind with needing to come before the week’s over.”
My need for him shuddered in my core, and I moaned, a moment away from pleading with him. “A whole week?”
He couldn’t be serious. Neither one of us would make it.
But he nodded, fell to his knees, and brought his fingers to my mound, spreading my wet lips. “This will be the ultimate test of control, don’t you think, Kayla?” He raised a brow. A challenge. “Can you handle it?”
My nipples peaked, and my chest rose and fell too fast. With a sigh, I let the back of my head thump against the wall. “Can you, Master?”
“I won’t deny that it’ll be a challenge.” He ran a finger up my slit, drawing a tremor from my bones. “But you know I can never resist a challenge.” His lips curved into his devil’s grin, then he leaned forward and sucked my clit into his wicked mouth.
5. Summons
Monday morning arrived with rain. The deluge gushed from the sky, leaving pools of water that tempted little feet to splash through them. Eve thought about it, but a stern look from me changed her mind.
I blew kisses to her as she climbed the stairs of the school bus, her sneakers lighting up with each step. After the bus disappe
ared down the road, I returned to the house. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t displace the feeling of dread settling in my gut.
Gage still hadn’t left for work.
Ian still wanted to meet today in his office.
I wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep the dilemma away.
No such luck. I found Gage in his pajamas. He sat on a bar stool in the kitchen, reading the newspaper and sipping coffee.
“Running late this morning?” I asked, rinsing the few dishes left over from breakfast.
“I’m the boss. I’m never late.” I heard the bar stool scrape across the floor, followed by his quiet steps bringing him closer. “It’s a hard decision, choosing between work and chaining you up in the basement.”
A plate slipped from my sudsy hands and clanked into the sink. Luckily, it didn’t break.
He pressed his lips to the side of my neck, his warm breath inducing a delicious shiver. “I want to spend some time with you, just the two of us. In fact, I plan on spending a lot of time with you this week.” He leaned into me the slightest bit, his cock nudging my ass. “I’ve been hard all morning, Kayla. Do you know how difficult it is not to bend you over and fuck you right now?”
I clutched the edge of the sink, biting back a groan. He ran his fingers through my hair, taunting with what I would miss this week.
“I need a cold shower,” he muttered, backing away. “When you’re done in here, I want you on your knees in our bedroom.”
“O-okay.” My heart battered my ribcage long after he left the kitchen. I finished loading the dishwasher, then for a few moments, I gripped the counter. Let it prop me up. Once again, I couldn’t ignore the hunch that he was punishing me. Was he playing a cruel game? A game designed to mess with my head?
Psychological instead of physical.
Or was he simply amping up his need to conquer and control, and my guilt was wreaking havoc by making me read more into his behavior? Either way, I was frozen. Under his thumb, life had become restrictive and suffocating.
But it’s never dull.
Sometimes, that voice in my head was too fucking right. I tuned into the sound of the dishwasher and let the steady swoosh swoosh calm my nerves, let it wash away the annoying voices in my head. I was supposed to be somewhere today, but that wasn’t going to happen since he’d forbidden me to leave the house this week.
Taking a detour to the foyer, I grabbed my phone from the table and crept down the hall toward our bedroom. As I peered through the door, my cell pressed to one ear while I listened for the sound of the shower, Simone answered with her usual to-the-point greeting.
“Hey,” I said, keeping my voice low. “I can’t come in this week.”
A pause came over the line, and even though Simone wasn’t standing in front of me, I imagined her dark blond brows furrowing. “Why?”
Her suspicious tone pricked at my defenses, and I let out a sigh, growing tired of arguing with her about my marriage. But she was the only person who knew of the type of relationship Gage and I had…besides Ian, but I didn’t want to think about him or how I’d done the unthinkable by seeing him over the weekend. Or how I was tempted to do something even more stupid, like see him again.
“Something came up. I’m sorry.”
“You mean Gage came up. Is his dick more important that those kids?”
“That is—” Not fair. Shit. His cock wasn’t even an issue right now since he had no intention of fucking me until our anniversary. And those kids…they were important. So important that I’d gone to great lengths to hide my volunteer work from my husband because no amount of logic would penetrate his thick skull when it came to my being in the same building as his brother twice a week.
Sick children or not.
“I’ll be back next week.” I owed Simone more than I could ever repay. She’d been Eve’s favorite nurse in the hospital. And she’d become a true friend since I’d married Gage. The kind of friend I talked to, which didn’t always work in my favor at times like these. I’d shared too much of my life with her, and she didn’t always “get it.”
She didn’t understand that I owed Gage even more. He would own every part of me until the day I died.
“Damn it, Kayla. I promised Emma you were coming in this morning. Your visits are the highlight of her week.”
Simone’s words fisted my heart. I remembered Eve in that hospital, alone and scared because I hadn’t been there when she needed me. I’d been too busy selling my soul to the devil to save her. Emma spent a lot of time alone in that place too, since her mother was a single parent who couldn’t afford to miss work. Nurses and volunteers helped fill that gap, just like they had for Eve.
Emma was only six, the same age as Eve. And she could die…like Eve almost had.
“I’ll try to stop in today for a little while. I want to be there.”
“Then be here. This is ridiculous. You’re a grown woman. When the hell are you gonna stand up to him?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it is. He either respects you, or you walk. You can’t get much simpler than that.”
She’d never felt the need to hold back. Simone told it like she saw it, right or wrong.
“Gage is complex.”
“I don’t care if he’s Jesus. How can you justify his behavior?”
I ground my teeth and counted to ten. “I knew what to expect the day I married him. Nothing about him has changed.” I was beginning to sound like a fucking broken record.
“But you’ve changed. I see how unhappy you are. You might have agreed to this insane arrangement the day you married the bastard, but you’re not happy about it now.”
“You don’t need to resort to name calling.”
“Look,” she said in a clipped tone. “You’re my friend, so that means I’m going to have your back no matter what. But—”
“There’s always a ‘but,’” I interrupted.
“But,” she began, “you deserve more than this. After everything you went through with Eve, you deserve to be happy. You deserve to be safe.”
So did Eve, and that’s what Simone and Ian didn’t understand. Gage made her happy. So how could I justify walking away when things got bumpy, knowing that it would devastate her?
I couldn’t.
“I’m sorry.” I peeked through the ajar door and saw steam rolling from the bathroom. So much for the cold shower. “Tell Emma I’ll try to visit today. If I can’t, I’ll make it up to her. I won’t let her down.”
“You just did.”
I couldn’t argue with her because she was right. Not only was I disappointing a little girl fighting to live, but I was disappointing myself. Disappointed in myself. Disgusted, even. What happened to the ballsy woman who’d stood up to him that first night in the basement? The first night he’d fucked me.
Raped you, the voice of reason whispered in my ear.
That night felt like a lifetime ago.
The spray of the shower shut off, and a few seconds later he entered the bedroom wearing a towel around his waist. I relaxed my face, willing my mask of everything’s a-okay to fall into place, and pushed the door open.
“I’ve gotta go,” I told Simone.
“He’s there, isn’t he?”
“I’ll call you later,” I said, skirting her question.
“See?” Her tone came out testy. “You’re lying to him about something you shouldn’t have to hide in the first place, but mostly, you’re lying to yourself.”
I had no argument left, so I ended the call and calmly set the phone on the dresser.
“Was that Simone?” Gage asked, brows furrowing in a way that hinted at his irritation.
“Yeah.” I swallowed hard.
“Did you tell her you’re not available this week?”
I sat down on the bed and eyed his hard body as he let the towel drop to the floor. “I let her know, but I don’t understand why this is an issue.” I’d only been a volunteer for a few weeks, but I was g
rowing attached to those kids, and I hated the idea of not being there for them this week, especially Emma.
“Don’t argue with me, Kayla,” he said, the tick in his jaw speaking volumes. “This week, you’re mine and mine alone.” He pushed me back onto the mattress and shoved my legs apart. Dropping to his knees, he pulled me toward his face with a rough, demanding grip.
My lips parted, and I closed my eyes as a sigh escaped. His hot breath teased between my thighs, hovering. Barely there, but potent enough to scatter my thoughts.
“I’ll forgive you for not greeting me on your knees, seeing as how you were distracted by your friend.” He shot a hand out and pinched my nipple. Squeezed. Twisted.
I cried out and instinctively tried moving out of reach, but he intensified the pressure between his thumb and forefinger.
“You will not move unless I tell you to. You’re going to lie here, spread wide, your cunt aching for my mouth.” He nudged my thigh with his nose, drawing a whining plea from my throat. He took my other nipple between two sadistic fingers and pinched.
The pressure was never ending—between my legs and in my nipples. They both ached in two entirely different and unbearable ways. My whole body trembled as I willed it to remain unmoving, even as the vise of his fingers tortured me.
Another small cry tumbled from my disobedient lips. “Please, Master.”
“You desperate little thing,” he whispered, his words a heated caress on my pussy. “Fucking turns me on so much.” Abruptly, he let me go.
I sat up, placing my weight on my elbows, and watched him through my confusion. He turned his back on me and began dressing. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“Going to work.”
Of course he was. I flopped back on the bed and squeezed my eyes shut.
“I’m not touching your sweet cunt, Kayla. And neither are you.”
I must have groaned out loud because he laughed. Even when he laughed at me, I found him sexy—that deep and rich sound that shivered along my skin. “You’re the devil.”