Dark Consequences (Club Risque Book 4)

by Poppy Flynn

  "And yet I didn't think either of you had scened with anyone else over the past twelve months," Micah remarked, joining in the conversation.

  Was it Connor's imagination or was he trying to play devil's advocate? Micah had been eyeing Connor just a little bit too speculatively during his exchange with Xavier, and Connor couldn't help wondering if the psychologist had witnessed his near meltdown after his scene with Laurel last night. Never paid to let your guard down around a head shrink unless you wanted to risk a full dose of psyche analysis.

  He tried to appear nonchalant as he leaned back in his chair, but a tiny corner of his mind couldn't help but wonder if Micah could detect his clammy hands which still retained a slight tremor, even though the majority of his other symptoms were currently giving him a break.

  "Actually, you'd be wrong," he replied, honestly. "I had a very satisfying scene with Desi before Joel came to his senses and took her off the market, after which I wholeheartedly offered her my humble services anytime she wanted to play." Micah didn't need to know that it had just been a one-off situation initially bestowed as a favour.

  Now it was Micah's turn to look surprised, although Connor couldn't help noticing that the same nugget of information had brought a different kind of gleam to Xavier's eyes.

  "So, she's not off limits then?" the older Dom confirmed.

  "Not at all," Connor gritted out between clenched teeth, feeling irrationally possessive in regard to X's obvious interest in Fluff on the one hand, even while he sought to convince Micah that things were only casual between them on the other. The two opposing perspectives pulled him harshly in different directions and Connor could feel his irrational temper come bubbling close to the surface as the tension headache he'd managed to shake for a couple of hours came steaming back full force.

  Jesus, what was wrong with him? He didn't want Laurel for himself. Hell, he'd been trying to get her to back off. If Xavier wanted at her, all power to him. Except those weren't the words that came out of Connor's mouth.

  "Wouldn't have thought she was your type, though, Xavi. Girl's a hell of a brat and I'm not sure she'd be receptive to a 24/7 relationship like the one you're looking for."

  "All the more fun to punish then." Xavier grinned wickedly. "And she's certainly a lot more of a masochist that I initially believed."

  But only for him, Connor thought defensively. Wasn't she? The thought of Fluff becoming a full time submissive to another Dom had a pronounced effect on Connor's immediate outlook and he felt a possessiveness unlike anything he'd ever known. He had to physically talk himself down from grabbing Xavier by the scruff of the neck and threatening dire consequences if the man went anywhere near her. The feeling was so volatile that Connor had to lock his hands into white knuckled fists and keep them under the table that sat between them, in case they suddenly developed a mind of their own and punched him in the face like they were itching to do.

  The alternative, of course, was to make Fluff his own submissive so this kind of situation was never a threat, but the idea of that put Connor's mind into just as much of a spin, the anxiety that was never too far from the surface these days rising up like the wave of a tsunami and threatening to drown him.

  Connor closed his eyes and swallowed convulsively as he battled to control the opposing emotions that were roiling through his system and confusing the hell out of him. Christ! Everything was so muddled. He felt like he was starting to lose his mind. Some of these feelings just weren't logical!

  When he opened his eyes again, Micah was watching him with narrowed, considering eyes that saw far too much. Yep, definitely time to move on out. The last thing he needed, with everything else that was going on right now, was having his head shrunk by a psyche doctor.

  Thankfully, at that very moment, the focus of their conversation walked through the door, so Connor used that as an excuse and hurried over to intercept Laurel. He didn't appreciate being the centre of Micah's contemplation and, if nothing else, he wanted to get in there before Xavier had the chance. Not that he would admit to the latter point, maybe not even to himself.

  Laurel was surprised to see Connor hurrying towards her. He had kept his distance for the entire day, leaving Laurel feeling bereft and uncharacteristically unsure of herself.

  It wasn't a condition that she found remotely comfortable. She wasn't used to second guessing herself or her actions.

  Why was this all so difficult? She knew she couldn't physically make someone fall in love with her, but hadn't she and Connor managed to prove to both of them just how compatible they were? They shared an all-round almost flawless dynamic. They worked well together both in and out of the office—or they had until this last couple of weeks, at least—and they were perfectly capable of having a good time together where sex wasn't involved. They were companionable and had a lot of common interests outside of work and the club and they fitted together quite perfectly in their Dominant and submissive roles as evidenced by their electrifying scenes.

  So, what the hell was the problem? Was it her? Was she just unlovable? This entire situation was starting to erode her usual unshakeable convictions and positive outlook. Laurel was starting to feel a crisis of confidence and her self-esteem was beginning to suffer as a result. It wasn't a position she enjoyed being put in, considering that she had always breezed through life with an assurance and optimism that had seemed unassailable.

  She especially didn't like the fact that, suddenly, her entire happiness and self-worth seemed to be unexplainably wrapped up in the approval of a single man.

  Still, the fact that he was seeking her out had to be promising, didn't it?

  "The French boudoir is available," he said by way of a greeting.

  Okay, so the delivery might leave a little bit to be desired.

  "How do you fancy trying it out?"

  Laurel's heart gave a little trip. He wanted to play and had sought her out in order to do that. And now it seemed that he wanted a modicum of privacy alongside that. This was new. Usually, they played in the dungeon and Connor was more than happy to have anyone and everyone viewing her and their scenes. Or was she reading too much into his desire for privacy?

  Either way, she wasn't giving up the opportunity to scene with Connor after the way this day had panned out. Laurel was feeling a very desperate need to reaffirm their relationship after the explosiveness of last night had given way to his indifference of today.

  "Of course," she smiled agreeably. "What do you have in mind?"

  "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you, pet?" Connor replied shortly, grabbing her hand proprietorially and striding off confidently with her in tow, leaving her trotting slightly to keep up with him. Still, despite his almost possessive actions, there almost seemed to be something slightly stilted and just a little…off about the way he moved and spoke. A kind of unsettled buzz of nervous energy that wasn't in keeping with Connor's usually relaxed and charming manner.

  But that was ridiculous. Laurel shook herself mentally. She really was letting her irrational feelings get away with her.

  The boudoir was the most sumptuous of all Club Risqué playrooms, decked out in opulent Louis XIV style furnishings with lavish drapery swathing the decadent, full size, four poster bed.

  Connor spared no time in getting her stripped off and bound, spread eagle, her limbs strapped to each of the imposing bedposts in such a way that she felt the sharp thrill of desire bubble through her at being laid out, arbitrarily, for Connor's pleasure.

  He stripped off his shirt and Laurel felt her fingers flex with the desire to run them all the way up his smooth abs and into the liberal sprinkling of sandy hair that covered the width of his chest. He was just so…manly!

  Connor might spend each and every day in a suit and maintain a slick, sharply cut head of hair and a clean-shaven jaw, but he was no metrosexual. His body was built on a different scale to even many of the seriously hot Doms who frequented the club, and Laurel just itched to touch him. To know that she had the
right to do that, which, okay, wasn't really quite hers yet, but they'd get there. It was just a matter of time and of getting Connor relaxed with the idea of being a part of a dedicated couple. She wasn't ashamed of anybody knowing that she had a certain agenda when it came to the big man. Hell, it was better that way. It meant that the other subs knew to keep their distance and keep their hands—and thoughts—off!

  Admittedly, they might not be quite that official—yet—but Laurel could make sure people got the message and she wasn't going to apologise for doing it. Especially when Connor was standing, looming over her prone body in all his glory, while she was laid out like a meal just waiting for him to have a taste then take his fill.

  Satisfaction bubbled up inside her. This was where things mattered. In the club where he played openly with her and her alone, for everyone to see. Where they almost scorched each other with the heat that they stirred up from the banked embers of the working day and the sparks that often flashed between them ignited into the raging furnace of insatiable, voracious hunger, which flared around them when they finally came together.

  It didn't matter if he kept her at a distance at the office. That was work, after all. There were certain protocols and decorum that were accepted and expected.

  No, this was what was important to them, the way they interacted outside of their jobs. In the downtime, where they were free to make their own choices. And Connor's choice was her.

  It was tonight, and it had been last night, and last week, and for the last twelve months. That sure knowledge settled Laurel and she gave herself over, wholly and unconditionally, to this Dom, whom she loved without reserve, and watched possessively as he undid the top button of his leathers. They were nearly there; she was sure of it. Just a little more pushing on her part and she'd have him just where she wanted him.

  Connor loosened the chain on the shackles around one of Fluff's ankles. The system was designed for ease of manoeuvrability without the need to undo the cuffs. The loud, rattling chains came with a spring-loaded carabiner clip which could attach the links at any desired point, giving as much or as little leeway as desired. The rest of her limbs, he kept taut so that she was still completely immobile and at the mercy of his whims.

  The action made her pussy clench and the telltale evidence of her desire drip slowly down her seam. Spread like she was, there was no way Connor could fail to notice the effect he was having on her and that made Laurel all the more aroused.

  Connor left the chain free to its full length; they would both enjoy the ominous way it sounded as it rubbed and chinked against itself while Connor moved her around.

  Lifting her foot high, he left the chain to dangle and snake around her leg. The metal was cool against her overheated skin, but it warmed quickly with her body heat.

  Starting with her toes, Connor nipped and sucked his way around her foot and down to her ankle, his big hands smoothing the way across her skin ahead of his mouth.

  This kind of encounter was new for Connor, but in Laurel's mind, the controlled intimacy just cemented their relationship even further. She felt pampered and indulged, even when he reached the inside edge of her thigh, just above her knee, and she noticed that some of his enthusiasm was leaving its mark. But she was his, after all, so what did it matter?

  Besides, the fact that he wanted to leave the evidence of his possession on her body had her heart galloping and her core clenching as he slowly, mesmerizingly made his way up to her apex. Laurel's breath stilled as she waited…and waited, her sheath quivering and seeping under the weight of expectation while she tried her best to be a good girl and not angle her hips just that tiny little bit, enough to bring it into blessed contact with his mouth.

  After what seemed like the longest time, while Connor teased her with nothing but his breath on her most sensitive flesh, she exhaled in a whoosh when he withdrew in an unexpected flurry of movement and re-chained her ankle before moving up her body and unhooking one of her arms.

  Laurel sucked in a breath and moaned as Connor took one of her fingers into his hot, wet mouth and suckled on it as if mimicking the act of intercourse. Damn, she really wanted to feel his mouth on other parts of her body, right now, much more intimate parts, but watching him suck her finger in and out of his mouth was surprisingly hot. He switched to another digit, taking his time, laving her skin with his undivided attention, nibbling her knuckles and biting the fleshy pad at the base of her thumb hard enough to make her cry out before he soothed the little hurt with his tongue.

  Connor continued his unhurried path along the inside of her wrist then up the length of her arm, to her shoulder, until he trailed across the sensitive skin of her neck and left her desperate for more.

  Laurel let out a sob as Connor delved his fingers into her hair, setting off an answering tingle along her nerve endings as his hand fisted, pulling it tight against her scalp while he kissed along her hairline then nipped at the lobe of her ear. She wanted him lower but knew that if she verbalised her desperation, he would only tease her longer.

  She was panting now, her chest heaving and her back arching in a silent enticement, offering up her breasts to his mouth. He took his time in getting there—across her collarbone, nuzzling and nipping all around the base of her throat and across the smooth expanse of skin below. Eventually, he reached her chest, but Laurel found herself all the more frustrated as he concentrated on the bountiful globes but avoided her nipples completely.

  Finally, he took one painfully stiff and pebble hard peak into his mouth and Laurel screamed as he bit down hard.

  It was almost as if he'd heard the silent begging in her mind and this was her punishment. Be careful what you wish for. But a moment later, he soothed the sensitive area, licking across her tip and blowing warm air across it, then dragging the very point of his tongue around and around in circles on the bumpy skin of her areola until she was ready to scream in frustration all over again.

  He knew, damn him. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and just what her thought processes were; they were so finely attuned.

  Eventually, Connor took pity on her as she writhed and whimpered and stuck out her chest as she tried to get him to bequeath some of that same attention to the bud. As he sucked her nipple deep into his mouth, he proceeded to suckle at her breast with all the enthusiasm of a starving infant. On and on, until she was so sensitive that she was now trying to shrink away from him, instead, at the same time as her other breast yearned for some of the attention.

  Connor only chuckled darkly at her predicament, and just when she thought he was going to relent, because he unclipped all four of the restraints around her limbs, he, instead, took her by complete surprise when he deftly tossed her onto her front.

  Instinct had her pushing up onto her elbows as he quickly secured her ankles once again, initially so she could stretch around and see what he was doing, but also for a bit of preservation for her reddened, swollen nipple before it was abraded too harshly against the bed covers.

  It wasn't much of a reprieve. Connor seemed to take a dark delight in grasping the chains attached to the cuffs on her wrists and using them to physically pull her into place. Laurel cried out at the sensitivity of her one tender nipple as it scraped across the cloth even while her pussy pulsed with a reignited need.

  Connor started all over again. It was as if there was no end to the man's patience tonight. He licked and laved and nibbled and sucked on every inch of her skin from her ankles to her ass, across her back up to her shoulders then on to the extremities of each individual wrist as she lay there panting and desperate, unable to do anything but sob and pant and pull at her bindings.

  The metallic clank of the chains was a constant background noise as she wriggled and writhed, doing her best to rub her aching, needy clit against the bed covers while Connor teased and took his time.

  More than once, she earned herself a sharp spank on her exposed buttocks and Connor seemed to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in sinking his teeth int
o the rounded cheeks of her ass. These were no sharp nips. More of a profound, enduring pain that seeped deep into her psyche and morphed into a dark pleasure and left her desperately aching for his touch in more intimate places. Laurel didn't think she'd ever been quite so wound up in her entire life. But she was about to learn that she was wrong.

  Laurel groaned in relief when Connor finally turned her onto her back once again, but by now she knew better than to imagine that there might be any immediate relief. She could hope, though, and when Connor immediately plunged two fingers straight into her dripping pussy, she thought that hope might be justified. He pushed deep, first with the two fingers, then with three, filling her up and stretching her almost painfully wide. Her body shuddered in response, gripping and bearing down on his long, thick digits before he pulled them out and left her empty.

  "No!" Laurel couldn't help the denial from slipping from her lips as her hips pumped into the air as if they were physically trying to follow. The outburst earned her a sharp slap to her sodden pussy, the vast level of her wetness making a squelchy sound as Connor lifted his fingers to his lips, licking and sucking off her cream as he watched her almost dispassionately. Except that Laurel could see the way his own pupils had dilated, darkening his eyes so that almost none of the moss green of his irises could be seen.

  The small pain and the tantalising visual only served to get her hotter and more frustrated. She didn't think anything had ever felt better in her entire life, than when Connor finally settled himself between her spread legs and took a bold, broad-tongued lick at each of her labia lips, humming quietly to himself as he lapped up the copious amount of cream she had produced at his teasing manipulations.