The Devil's Kiss Series Boxed Set

by Gemma James

  The vomiting. The test. The reminder of Gage’s reaction afterward.

  I curled into a ball next to the porcelain God and sobbed. Taking the test wasn’t even important—it would only confirm what I already knew in my heart. The impossible had happened. My remaining ovary had produced an egg, and Gage…

  His reaction would be so different from last time, but in that moment, all I could hear were the echoes of his rage. The accusations and hatred. Forgiving was easy. Forgetting was harder.

  “What can I do?” Simone set a hand on my shoulder, her touch light and gentle as if I might jump out of my skin. I pulled myself upright.

  “I’m pregnant. I know I am.”

  “You won’t know for sure until you take a test.”

  “I’m scared to.”

  “I thought you wanted to have a baby?”

  “I do!”

  “Then why are you falling apart before you’ve even pissed on a stick?”

  “I don’t know! I guess it’s…Gage didn’t handle it so well last time.”

  “But he’s onboard now, right?” She gentled her tone, infusing her words with the power to coax.

  “Yeah.”

  Simone grabbed my hand and dragged me to my feet. “No point in having a breakdown until you at least confirm it.” She picked up the bag I’d dropped and pushed it into my shaking hands. “I’ll be right outside the door.”

  I gave a solemn nod as if headed to a firing squad instead of taking a test that was bound to give me news I’d been hoping to receive for months. The next three minutes were the longest of my life—at least that’s what it felt like when I finally picked up the stick and read the results.

  Two lines.

  15. Come Clean

  Gage slid the razor over his jaw and down the side of his neck in hypnotic strokes, erasing his five o’clock shadow. I sat on the edge of the tub and rubbed jasmine scented lotion into my smooth legs. I liked watching him do mundane things. Standing barefoot with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he didn’t come across nearly as intimidating as he normally did.

  Until he turned that steel blue gaze on me in the mirror.

  I didn’t know what propelled me to kneel behind him, my hands tugging at the terrycloth around his waist. The towel floated to the floor, and I wrapped my fingers around his cock. It only took a few strokes to get him hard. He dropped the razor onto the counter.

  “What are you doing?”

  I didn’t often take the initiative. He’d conditioned me to follow his lead, and that was a hard lesson to break.

  “Serving you, Master.” Swiping my thumb over the head of his cock, I bit my lower lip, hiding a smile at the bead of moisture on my fingers.

  “Did I give you permission to grope me?”

  “No, Master.”

  He chuckled, but as soon as I stroked the length of him, his laughter turned to a deep-throated groan. “You’re being very bad. You interrupted my shaving, Kayla,” he said, but his tone teased rather than admonished. “Now I have no choice but to punish your mouth.” He whirled and had my head between his hands before I had a chance to move out of reach. As he pushed between my lips, his gaze roamed my face, as if he were searching for the answer to my out-of-character behavior.

  “You’ve been quiet tonight, and now you’re on your knees playing with my cock of your own accord. Something is obviously going on here.” He thrust deeper, ensuring I couldn’t answer him.

  And that’s when things took a turn for the worst. My gag reflex kicked in, stronger than ever, and I jerked my head back. But he moved with me, wordlessly forbidding me to pull away. Gagging was a huge turn-on for him, and he wasn’t about to give me any slack.

  “While I fuck your mouth, why don’t you consider telling me what’s on your mind?” He paused for a moment, a dark brow arched. “Something is on your mind, right?” Ceasing his thrusts, he allowed me a quick nod of my head.

  Would my entire pregnancy be like this? Struggling with the side-effects of growing a baby inside my body while he took his pleasure from me? All evening I’d worried over how to tell him, but suddenly, I wanted answers first.

  He moved his hips in a lazy circle, keeping his cock buried deep in my mouth, and hitting the back of my throat with each rotation. His eyes deepened to my favorite shade of indigo. Sometimes, that hue was a warning, but more often than not, it was a sign of his raging arousal.

  Gage was possibly the most passionate man I’d ever met.

  With a grunt, he pushed further into my throat, and I gagged so hard my eyes burned from unshed tears. My belly roiled—a sure sign I was in trouble if I didn’t get him off pronto. Renewing my efforts, I worked his shaft with my tongue and lips, hoping against hope that it would be enough to make him come. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand his cock trapped in my throat, no matter how much I loved making him go wild with my mouth.

  And this was why I needed to tell him, or at the very least, open a conversation about the what-ifs of pregnancy.

  He withdrew without warning, causing my lips to make a popping sound. Then he bent over and hefted me to my feet with two hands under my shoulders. He spun us around, lifted me onto the counter, and buried his half-shaven face between my legs, smearing shaving cream on my skin in the process. My elbows hit the counter hard, but I didn’t give a fuck. Not as long as he kept flicking his tongue over my clit like that.

  “Master…feels so good.”

  He lifted his head. “I lick, you talk.”

  My head fell back against the mirror. “About what?” His wondrous tongue derailed my train of thought.

  “Tell me what’s bothering you, or I’ll stop.” Again, he lifted his head and stared at me, brows narrowed over eyes that saw too much. “You haven’t been yourself all afternoon. I know when something is off.”

  “I’ve been thinking about…” He darted his tongue into my opening, and I gripped the edge of the counter with white-knuckled fingers. “Oh, God. Don’t stop.”

  “Then finish what you were going to say. You’ve been thinking about what?”

  “What if…what if I do get pregnant?”

  As soon as I said those words, he backed away completely, and I lamented the loss of the heights he would have surely sent me to. But the way he watched me, with a mixture of suspicion and hope, told me that our oral session was over. Reluctantly, I slid to my feet.

  “What do you mean what if?” He folded his arms, and somehow he didn’t look ridiculous standing buck naked like that. If anything, he seemed more formidable. “As far as I knew there was only when. Are you trying to tell me something, Kayla?”

  “No! I just never gave it much thought until now, but…”

  “But what?” His voice rose, on the edge of anger. He was taking this all wrong. Or I wasn’t explaining myself in the right way.

  “How will you treat me during the pregnancy, or after the baby is born?” Considering the what-ifs—the ones I’d never given much thought to because getting pregnant seemed like a pipe dream—were making me nauseous.

  Either that or it was morning sickness.

  “I’ve done research, Kayla. You need to trust me to know what is safe and what isn’t.”

  “I’m not just talking about safety. I’m talking about…about what I want.” I wrung my hands before forging ahead. “If I were to get pregnant, I’d want more freedom. And once the baby arrives…” I gulped, kicking myself for the slip-up. “I mean I can’t comprehend taking care of a newborn and kneeling at your feet daily, or taking your belt or…or your anal punishments. Gage, I’d need you to tone it down.”

  A tick went off in his jaw, and for a second I thought he’d figured me out. “You sound like you don’t want a baby. First your talk the other night about how it might not be in the cards for us, and now this?” He took a step toward me, but my back hit the edge of the counter, leaving me no room to escape.

  “Have you been taking birth control pills behind my back? Is that why you’re
not getting pregnant?”

  “What?” My eyes widened. “No! These are just things…I’ve just been giving this stuff some thought lately.”

  “Well here’s all you need to know. I’m your Master, and I will take care of you. You might not always like my methods, but I won’t hurt you beyond what you can handle.”

  “What if I don’t want to ‘handle’ it while pregnant or taking care of a newborn?” My voice climbed higher with every word, and I regretted it immediately because I knew what he was after before he disappeared from the bathroom. A few moments later, he returned with the ever-dreaded ball gag clutched in his fist.

  Shaking my head, I flattened my lips together in pure defiance. “I’m sorry I lost my cool, but this is serious, Gage. We need to talk about this.”

  “I’ll talk. You’re going to listen.” He pressed the gag to my lips, but I batted his hand—and the gag—away. Even as I did so, I was horrified by my actions. Not because they were out of line, but because they were out of line according to his standards.

  “Kayla,” he warned, once again coming at me with that horrid gag.

  “Please, Master. Can’t we just talk about—”

  “We will talk. We’ll talk about anything you want, but after you’ve accepted your punishment.”

  “What am I being punished for? Will you at least give me a damn reason?”

  His mouth formed an indomitable line. “The way you just spoke to me is a fine example of why your disobedient mouth is getting punished.”

  Why bother protesting? Even if I were ready to tell him about the baby, he wasn’t willing to hear me until I took my discipline like the dutiful slave I was. I parted my lips and stretched them around the gag. After he’d tightened the buckle with extra oomph, he ordered me to my knees in the middle of our bedroom.

  I did as told, and Gage surprised me by producing a set of leather cuffs. He secured my wrists behind me, and I had to wonder why. He rarely restrained me anymore—he didn’t have to. A slight chill stirred by body as he walked in a slow circle around me.

  “I may be your husband, but this is not a normal marriage. You knew going in that I would have absolute authority over your life, your body, and your decisions.” Completing another circle, he came to a stop in front of me. “You have no control here, Kayla. And though I love your feisty spirit—God, I truly do—I won’t hesitate to put you in your place, pregnant or not.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “And this is your place—on your knees, naked, bound, and gagged. Your place is on all fours, offering your cunt and asshole whenever I wish. Your place,” he said, raising his voice, “is in any damn position I see fit with your mouth wide open and eager to please me.”

  Sliding his fingers under my chin, he forced my head up, eyes on him. “There is only one path to freedom, and it’s one I know you’ll never take. I’ve made sure of it.”

  Everything he said was true, and it rose inside me, an insidious truth I couldn’t deny. He’d manipulated and molded me, trained and conditioned me. My will was strong and always present, but he’d somehow rewired it to exist for him.

  “I’m not just your husband. I’m your owner.” Crouching until we were at eye level, he caressed my cheek. “And that takes a lot of trust on your part, but I do realize it’s something we’re still working on. Your first instinct is to withhold and deceive, and I will not stop until I’ve eradicated that behavior. You will not doubt me, nor question me, nor fear me. You will learn to submit and serve with total trust.”

  Something dark and dangerous crossed over his features. “But we aren’t there yet, are we? Even after the harsh punishment I put you through last week, you still feel the need to hide things from me.”

  I shook my head with vehemence.

  “The sudden onset of these questions about pregnancy are more than a little suspicious.” He pointed to where I kneeled. “Do not move from that spot.” He hurried back into the bathroom, his stride full of purpose, and my stomach dropped. This couldn’t be good. If he planned to search my things for birth control pills that didn’t exist…I began to shake. He was going to find the note.

  The fucking note I’d forgotten about until now.

  To top it off, I was going to choke on my own vomit because I hadn’t told him about the baby. That should have been the first thing I’d done this afternoon, as soon as he came through the door.

  Instead, I’d stewed and overthought it too much. I’d worried myself into this position. If I’d only been honest, we’d be celebrating right now. But there would be no celebration tonight. How could I expect him to wield his power over me with caution and safety if he didn’t have all the facts? No matter the sadistic bastard that lived inside him, I knew he would have never left me gagged, unattended for even a minute if he’d known I was suffering from morning sickness.

  Calm down. Deep breaths through the nose.

  Breathing deeply and purposefully staved off the nausea. I focused on drawing air in and out of my lungs in a slow and steady rhythm as I waited for him to return. Drawers opened and closed, cupboards squeaked then slammed shut. The unmistakable sound of him rifling through my things filtered to where I kneeled. Finally, he appeared in the open doorway of the bathroom, long after my knees had begun to ache from the hard floor, and my burning shoulders slumped.

  Entering the bedroom again, Gage came to a stop in front of me. Dread chewed my gut as I saw what he held in his hands. Struggling to dislodge the gag—which was impossible—I whined and shimmied, begging him with my eyes to let me speak.

  He took mercy on me. Leaning down, he loosened the strap and pulled the rubber ball from my mouth. But he didn’t free my wrists from the cuffs, and that bespoke of the degree of trouble I was in.

  “It’s not what you think,” I hurried to explain, then winced at that particular cliched tripe.

  “You’re right. It’s definitely not what I thought.” He began pacing. “I thought maybe you didn’t want another child, but you didn’t know how to tell me.” He clutched my makeup compact in a fist. “I was looking for contraceptives. Instead, I found this.”

  “Gage—”

  He cut me off by swiping a hand through the air. “How long have you been keeping this from me?”

  “It doesn’t mean anything.”

  “How long?” he demanded, opening the compact before tossing it onto the floor. He balled his fingers around the note, crushing it.

  “A few weeks. I would have gotten rid of it last week, but I forgot about it.”

  Shit. That was not the right thing to say. His face darkened, a storm brewing on the horizon.

  “Wait, that came out wrong, Master. I meant that the note didn’t mean anything to me anymore. I saw that he was okay. In fact, I found out he’s dating Simone, and I’m okay with it!” I struggled to my feet, pleading with my eyes for him to understand. “I would have mentioned it, or thrown it away, but I forgot.”

  “How can you just forget something like this?”

  “I don’t know! I’m sorry, but I did. A lot has happened since that day. You punishing me, starting work with you this week, and then today…”

  Oh God. I’d ruined this moment for us. We’d waited so long, and I’d stupidly withheld the news from him, if only for a few hours. But it was long enough for that damn note to spring up and wreak destruction.

  “What else, Kayla? What else are you hiding from me?” He towered over me, and I dropped to my knees. Kissed his feet.

  “Stop groveling and just tell me.”

  Lifting my head, I gazed into his eyes—blue orbs filled with anger and hurt and suspicion. “I’m scared to tell you.”

  For so many reasons, the biggest of which lay wrapped in superstition and the echoes of a painful history. We’d gone down this road before, and it hadn’t ended well.

  “Jesus, baby. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”

  “I’m…” I swallowed hard, and maybe it was the speck of tenderness in his expression�
��the softening of his mouth, and the way he unclenched his hands. The crinkled piece of paper, a souvenir from a painful time that seemed eons ago, floated to the floor, forgotten.

  Gage saw my fear, and instead of feeding off it in his usual sadistic way, he empathized. He showed patience and love and even anxiety for what I was about to throw his way. Again.

  I’d proven that I was more than capable of letting him down, of wavering when I should stay the course. I kissed his feet once more then smiled up at him through the tears forming in my eyes.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  16. Heartbeat

  The following morning, Gage got me in to see the best obstetrician that money could buy. We sat side-by-side in the waiting room, hands clasped together. He seemed as nervous as I was. The wait to see the doctor wasn’t long, but it seemed to span forever. By the time they called me back, I was sure my blood pressure would rocket through the roof. After the nurse took my vitals and asked a dozen or so questions, she left Gage and me alone with the assurance the doctor would be in shortly.

  I hopped onto the table, my ass sliding over the paper, and eyed Gage. He’d unfolded into a chair near the door of the exam room. Between the glaring lights overhead and my lack of sleep the previous night, this whole situation seemed…surreal.

  What bothered me most was all the things we hadn’t said. After I’d finally gotten the words out about the pregnancy, Gage had flipped through a plethora of reactions, from shocked to elated to disbelieving to…worried.

  And that last one set me on edge the most, possibly because it reflected my own fears. Everything was changing so quickly—within my body and in my marriage. I needed his rock solid presence right now. Hell, I even needed his stringent disciplinary measures. They kept me grounded, and I needed that more than ever.

  I’d grown accustomed to bowing to his decisions, to depending on him to keep me in line. But a pregnancy…maybe we’d both underestimated the realities that would come with such a life-changing event.