The Devil's Kiss Series Boxed Set

by Gemma James

  I almost groaned at the thought.

  Kayla caught sight of me then. Smiling that content smile of hers—the one she’d adopted since Grace had come—she rose from the rocker and padded to the crib. Displaying a gentleness inherent to maternal instinct, she laid Grace on her back then watched her sleep for a couple of minutes. Remaining in the shadows, I allowed her those precious moments. If I hadn’t been standing in the doorway, I knew she would have stayed longer.

  She closed the distance between us, her eyes a little wide, teeth pulling on her bottom lip. Something about the way she moved screamed cautioun, as if she sensed the restless demon inside her husband, pacing back and forth, brimming with the need to devour and own.

  Leaning toward her, I fit my hand under her chin and grazed her mouth with mine. Just a tease to hint at the blaze intensifying inside me. Much longer and my insides would incinerate. “The sitter is coming by tonight.”

  “Are we going out to dinner?”

  We’d gone out a couple of times during the past few weeks—rare and stolen moments alone that we’d cherished. “Yes, and then we’re going into the circle.”

  Thick lashes fluttered over her sexy brown eyes. She swallowed hard before bringing her hands together at the small of her back in an automatic display of submission. We might be rusty on the protocols that defined us as a couple, but her body still knew its place.

  She lowered her eyes. “Are you going to punish me?”

  Breath stalled in my lungs. If she didn’t say the word I thirsted for, I just might. “Do you think you need punishing?”

  “You’ve been incredibly patient, kind, and loving.” She raised her gaze to mine. “But I haven’t met your needs in the way I should have. I know I’ve failed you.”

  I grabbed her chin between my thumb and forefinger, stepping even closer until our bodies were a mere two inches apart. “You haven’t failed me,” I said, my breath warm on her lips. “You’ve been amazing. Fucking extraordinary. I’m in awe of you.”

  “Gage…” Her eyes drifted shut.

  I pressed my mouth to hers and groaned. “Baby, I’m going to punish you not because you’re in trouble but because I can, because I need to do it to stay sane. But don’t think for a second that you’ve failed me.”

  She shuddered a sigh against my lips. “Can I have a safe word?”

  “You don’t need a safe word.” My conscience screamed at me, lost as it was. I was a complete ass for refusing to give her a safe word, yet I couldn’t help but manipulate her into acquiescence each time she asked for a way out, and I denied her one.

  Removing that protective layer left her with no choice but to trust me. More importantly, it removed any chance of role-playing. I wanted no pretenses between us and no room for her to question my authority over her. She was my slave in every sense of the word, and she’d submit to my commands because I’d trained her well. But I couldn’t ignore the fact that things had changed. Rusty didn’t begin to describe it, and it was past time we got back to our dynamic.

  “I want a safe word, Gage.”

  My fingers tightened around her jaw, strict and unrelenting. “You’re not getting a safe word. Give me your trust, Kayla. I’ll push you as far as you can handle and no more.”

  It wasn’t really about the safe word. If she became distressed, I’d stop immediately. I’d learned to read her well and knew when she was spent and could take no more. Refusing her a safe word was more about taking away her power.

  Because that power belonged to me, and it was time I took it back. Some women went back to work after giving birth, but Kayla would return to her role as my slave. As her owner and Master, it was up to me to guide her. And speaking of…

  “You will address me properly at all times tonight. If you slip up even once, I will punish your ass in front of everyone, and I’m not talking about a lashing.”

  She gulped, and her nervousnesses hardened my cock.

  Oh, I had every intention of punishing my favorite hole of hers. This plan was designed to make her stumble. At some point tonight, I’d make sure she slipped up, and I would make her squirm as her face flushed with embarrassment and shame. Her humiliation danced on my tongue, a phantom taste of something so addictive that I’d kill to have it again.

  “Master, I’m nervous. It’s been so long, and so much has changed since Grace was born.”

  “Even more reason to deny you a safe word. You’ll have no choice but to trust me to ease you back into submission. C’mon,” I said, winding an arm around her shoulders and ushering her from the nursery. “The sitter is waiting. She’s available for the entire night, so we have as much time as it’ll take.”

  She shuddered, and I knew she didn’t miss the meaning behind those words. I wouldn’t be finished with her until I broke down every single one of her postpartum walls.

  *****

  Thick silence settled over the circle, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, the air buzzed with anticipation, thrived off Kayla’s fear. Her body visibly trembled as she stood in the center of our depraved group. I’d left her fully clothed, intending to make her strip in front of everyone.

  Every pair of eyes settled on my wife. My gorgeous, anxious slave.

  Davenport had given me the floor tonight since we hadn’t joined the circle in quite a while. In return for his understanding and support of our absence these past few months, I’d promised him and the circle a show. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Davenport was as excited as I was to bring Kayla to her knees.

  As usual, he allowed his slave the luxury of his cock in her mouth, but as she moaned around his erection, all he seemed to see was Kayla. His preoccupation with my wife got under my skin, and I had to remind myself that it wasn’t personal. He was a voyeur as much as a sadist. Nothing thrilled him more than watching another Master hurt and degrade a slave.

  I took in our exclusive group. McDonnell’s slave straddled his lap, slowly fucking him as she rested her dark head on his shoulder. With each thrust of her hips, she begged him for permission to come. He denied her every time, and her dainty fingers clutched her Master’s red hair. Like Davenport, his attention lingered on Kayla. Every man in the room sat in complete enchantment.

  Motherhood suited my slave. I knew her breasts were round and full underneath the simple black dress she wore. I hadn’t allowed her a bra, and just as I’d anticipated, her breasts were heavy. Two spots dampened her bosom. She nursed exclusively, with the exception of rare outings during which the sitter fed Grace stored breast milk.

  “Unbutton the top of your dress,” I instructed her.

  Kayla undid the bodice with unsteady fingers. The fabric gaped open but still obscured her full, swollen breasts. I’d chosen this particular dress with purpose for the evening, as its many buttons would allow me to reveal her body slowly so I could savor every inch of skin she exposed.

  “Present your breasts.” Only the fact that she was nursing would spare her from the pain of nipple clamps. She pushed the top of her dress to the sides, and her breasts spilled out.

  “Are they full and painful?” I asked, gawking at her large nipples as I rose from my chair. I loved the changes in her body. She’d carried my child for nine months, and I savored every stretch mark and new curve of her figure.

  “Yes, Master.” Her quiet, shy voice zinged straight to my cock.

  I sauntered toward her. Submission had been driven into her so effectively that I didn’t have to order her hands at her back. She anticipated exactly what I wanted by dropping to her knees, thrusting her leaking breasts forward. Her eyes zeroed in on my straining erection.

  She was hungry for it, and I had every intention of using her desire to my advantage. I unbuttoned my pants and lowered the zipper. My cock sprang toward her lips, yearning to find heaven inside the glove of her mouth. I grazed her lips with the tip but didn’t push further than that.

  Kayla would find my grasp on control unwavering. But her control…I planned to break it to
pieces. By the time this night was through, I’d have her begging and void of dignity.

  “You need to earn the privilege of sucking my cock. Tell me how you can do that.”

  I was playing with her, getting off on the way her brows pinched together in fearful concentration. I’d already mapped out what I’d make her do next, but I wanted to hear what she came up with first.

  “Whatever pleases you, Master.”

  I lifted her chin until her eyes connected with mine. “That’s a cop-out. You’re more creative than that.”

  She let out a quick breath. “Will playing with my asshole be enough, Master?”

  It was a start, but I planned to do much more than just play. “Tonight isn’t only about you and me.” I gestured to the other men in the circle. “Go to each man here and leak your milk onto his lap.” I didn’t have to warn her not to touch any of them—she knew better. If the men here knew what was good for them, they’d behave as well.

  Everyone knew Kayla was off-limits.

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. Humiliation colored her cheeks. She’d rather I play with her tight little hole than do this.

  I crossed my arms, eyes narrowing in warning. “Do you want my cock in your mouth?”

  “Yes, Master,” she said, beginning to rise.

  I pushed down on her shoulders. “Crawl.”

  She hesitated, and I allowed her that moment of weakness. That moment in which she warred with herself. In the end, I knew which side of her would win.

  The side that hungered for me as much as I hungered for her. She often forgot the power she held over me. If she dug her heels in and demanded something of me, I’d do it just to taste her surrender.

  But Kayla wasn’t nearly as good at exploiting weaknesses as I was.

  She turned on hands and knees and crawled toward another man, her ass swaying in the skirt of the dress I’d ordered her to wear. Part of me couldn’t believe I was allowing this. Demanding it. I could barely stand the thought of her beautiful breasts gently swaying over another man’s lap, close enough for him to inhale her essence. The scent that belonged to me.

  But I ached to humiliate her, and making her mark the other men in the circle would do the trick.

  She headed for the man opposite Davenport. His blonde slave shifted to the side, making room for Kayla. My wife’s gorgeous brown eyes sought me out, silently asking for instruction.

  “Beg for his permission,” I told her. “Tell him how full and uncomfortable you are.”

  Her face flushed hotter. But for all her embarrassment and loss of dignity, I knew her cunt was wetter than fuck.

  She rose to stand on her knees, clasping her hands behind her. That pose had become second nature to her. “Please, Sir. My breasts are too full. Can I squirt some milk onto your lap?”

  She refused to meet his eyes, choosing instead to keep her attention on the front of his pants. He’d unbuttoned them, but he had yet to reveal his erection. The man’s excitement angered me, and only the fact that his bulge was noticeably small put a dent in my jealousy.

  He licked his lips and nodded. He liked to swing, but it would be an icy day in hell before he got to sample my most prized possession.

  Kayla rose and bent over his lap. Bringing her hands to her breasts, she gently squeezed until several squirts of milk soiled his pants.

  “Thank him,” I said with a harsh edge to my tone, trying to disguise the thickness in my throat.

  She thanked him and moved on to the next, repeating the ritual again. As she slowly made her way around the circle, marking the laps of every man here, it took everything I had to keep from clenching my hands into fists. She was obeying my orders, but not even that would save her from the need clawing its way up my chest.

  Finally, she reached Davenport. His pants now hid the erection his wife had been feasting on, but as Kayla reached for her breasts, he parted his pants and exposed himself, moaning as my wife’s milk bathed his shaft.

  “That’s enough!” I snapped, my words echoing through the circular space. The other men had known better than to pull a stunt like that, but not Davenport. I pointed to the floor at my feet, and Kayla hurried to me, her mouth trembling with dread and humiliation.

  Kayla should have stopped the instant her milk touched his bare cock, and that right there was reason enough to punish her.

  “I’m sorry,” she rushed to say.

  “Address me properly, though it won’t save you from punishment.”

  “I know, Master. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  No, she’d been going through the motions, no doubt anxious to be done with her unpleasant task.

  I thrust my erection toward her. “I want my cock dripping with your milk. Do you understand me?” I bit back a moan. This certainly wasn’t the first time I’d entertained thoughts of her warm milk on my shaft, but I’d needed this setting, this space, to feel comfortable enough to go through with it. The atmosphere in our home had changed, and it was a welcome one, but not so easily open to depravity.

  Once again, Kayla rose to do my bidding. At the first sensation of warm fluid hitting my pulsing shaft, I nearly let a groan escape. She kneaded until the last drop left her tit.

  “Empty your other breast.”

  She did as told, and I had to bite back another groan. It stalled in my throat, leaving my voice raspy.

  “Suck me clean.”

  This task was the final blow to her armor, and holy hell how I lived for this moment. The dimming of her eyes, the slight tremble of her mouth as she sank to her knees. Not ten minutes ago she would have gleefully blown me into next week, but I’d stolen that joy from her.

  Her eagerness set me on fire, but her reluctant capitulation…that’s what turned me to ash. Her tongue darted out to taste, the strokes timid and unsure.

  “Baby, suck me like you mean it.”

  “Yes, Master.” She brought one hand to the base of my cock, seeking control, and I swatted it away.

  “Assume the position.”

  She straightened her spine, the tips of her breasts hard and pointed upward, and entwined her fingers at the small of her back. I was achingly aware of her half-dressed state—something I’d rectify as soon as I finished fucking her mouth.

  Or maybe I’d make her leave the dress on. I pictured her breasts hanging free and her hands pulling up the material to expose her ass to me. The sensation of fabric bunched at her waist would undoubtedly drive home her vulnerability.

  She opened to take in my tip then slid her lips up my shaft. But she’d closed off her throat. She wasn’t even taking in half of my length.

  Growing impatient, I grasped her hair, tugged her closer, and rammed my cock deep into her seductive wet heat. Sweet and utter hell, she was pulling me under with each draw of her mouth. I plunged a little deeper…deeper still. I wouldn’t let up until I had her gagging. Until her round, chocolate eyes watered from the force of my thrusts, and she silently pleaded for mercy she knew I didn’t possess.

  Her throat convulsed around my cock, and I held her there, my gaze burning into hers as I stole every drop of power from her. She didn’t struggle, though I knew she wanted to.

  And suddenly, I wanted to make her struggle. I knew she could take it. Part of her might even get off on the fight. I withdrew long enough to tease her with reprieve, then I lodged my cock deep in her throat again.

  Fuck yes. A glassy sheen transformed her eyes, and she whined for mercy around my cock, tried pulling away from the grip I had on her hair. I widened my stance and held on tighter.

  An electric battle of wills flowed between us.

  Our gazes remained locked together. Hers pleading. Mine undoubtedly dark with manic triumph.

  And that was why this woman had been made for me. She fought against everything she was, against her own desires and fears just to please me. Not because she inherently hungered to please, but because she hungered for the adrenaline rush, the tumultuous highs only I could give her.
>
  Ever the bastard, I exploited her addiction without shame.

  I fucking owned her.

  And she loved me despite the gaping hole in my heart where compassion and mercy should have resided. I often puzzled over that love because it lacked logic or common sense. The strongest thing that bound her to me, keeping her on her knees, was the physical connection between us.

  The addiction went both ways.

  I pulled out and rammed down her throat again before she was able to grab a full breath. “That’s right, baby. You love my cock, don’t you?”

  She nodded, releasing a long moan around my shaft that sent ripples of vibrations straight through me. My balls tightened. I didn’t want to come yet. I hadn’t pushed her far enough. Until she was thrashing against me, overcome by the need to dislodge my cock from her throat, I wouldn’t be satisfied.

  And I refused to blow my load, spilling everything I was into her sweet mouth until I had her on the brink.

  But hell, it was going to take my last thread of control to drive her to that place when I was headed there myself. Gritting my teeth, I increased the tempo of my thrusts, jackhammering in and out of her mouth.

  Grunting.

  Knuckles whitening in her hair.

  Tears leaked from her eyes as she gagged. It was a brutal mouth-fuck, raw and full of sexual frustration. Brimming with violence and the need to conquer.

  If I’d given her a safe word, she probably would have cried it out by now, had her mouth not been stuffed full of cock. But she had yet to unclasp her hands and push me away. She wasn’t ready to quit. She was still in the game, still hanging on to the hope that I’d spill between her tonsils before she cracked, and she’d win this round.

  Like hell she would.

  “Fuck, baby. Keep gagging like that. Feels so good. I can do this for hours.”

  The verbal taunt hit the mark. She widened her eyes, heaving violently as her stomach muscles worked overtime. That’s when she slapped her sweaty palms on my chest and pushed. Desperation gave her the strength to send me stumbling back by a couple of inches.