“I did and lost to Striker. He played me like Matty used to play all his unsuspecting marks.”
“What are you going to do?”
I loved her lots, especially for the lack of judgment in her tone. “I’m not sure.”
She waved a finger at me. “Uh, uh, uh. I remember a certain someone who told me to own my sexuality and screw a certain Scottish prick until my eyes crossed.”
“Did they?” I joked.
“Don’t change the subject. I’m not going to say I like this Striker guy, but if you want to jump him, why the hell not?”
She was right about that. So after our call, I pulled out the card. It was well past two, closing in on three when I sent the text.
Me: Are you in bed?
Several minutes later, I had almost put my phone on the charger, prepared to go to bed alone, when I got a response.
Him: I can be. Is the clock starting?
I took that second bit as a reference to the bet.
Me: Not yet. But my bed needs warming.
The dots circled for some time and I wondered if he was writing a speech for how long it was taking.
Him: Where?
Before I could consider the ramifications, I texted him the address.
Nine
Connor
What had I done? I stared at the phone screen as if I didn’t recognize the object in my hand. There were reasons I’d gone about things the way I had. Winning the bet meant I could control our play.
When was the last time I’d had conventional sex? Did I even know what that was anymore? Why had I agreed to go over there when she would be wholly unprepared for my dark desires?
“Boss.”
I looked up and found Eliza standing near my desk.
“Are you going home?” she asked.
I saw hope in her naughty expression and found myself comparing my former sub with the blonde I intended on corrupting that night. Eliza hadn’t made a good sub, though she’d tried. She was far too headstrong and willful for that. But she knew how to meet my needs. The blonde had no idea what she was getting herself into.
“No,” I said, finally answering her question.
“Oh,” she said, disappointment invading her pretty face.
“Is everything shut down?” I asked, getting to my feet. I already knew the answer.
“Yes. Everyone is gone. It’s just you and me.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
That wasn’t an invitation, and she knew it. “You don’t have to walk me to my car. I’m a big girl.”
“I know.”
Still, I put my hand at the small of her back and urged her forward. I snagged my leather jacket and helmet before exiting the office, which locked automatically.
“Can I ask if you’re going to see her?” she asked.
The her was Carrie, the sub I’d recently released.
“No. Someone else.” I didn’t owe Eliza an explanation, but I wanted it clear that we would not return to the past. “You should hit up Griffin. He’s in much need of a spanking, if you ask me.” I chuckled.
Her eyes sliced my way before narrowing. “He was with our newest member after your scene with her. I was actually surprised to see you then. You’d told me you wouldn’t be in.”
“I had something to do,” I said, not giving her the information she was seeking.
She blew out a breath. “Even if Griffin is alone, I doubt I’m exactly his type. He likes them soft and sweet.”
That almost described the blonde. Sweet, she was not. Sassy fit her better. But breakable was more like it. Though she played strong, bending her to my will would break her.
“We’re here,” she announced, taking out her keys and disarming her car alarm. “I guess I’m going home alone.”
“Be safe,” I said, not wanting to stoke flames were there were no embers.
“That’s the thing. I don’t want to be safe. You know where I’ll be if things don’t work out for you tonight.”
I exhaled. “Eliza—”
She held up a hand. “Don’t. I know what you’re going to say.”
“Yet I feel you need to hear it. You are my second, nothing more. That can’t change no matter what, but especially as long as you work for me. I don’t fuck where I work. Got it.”
“Yes, boss.”
I tipped my head and gave her a two-finger salute before making my way to my bike. I hoped the rush of the ride would cool my vibe. If I was going to have boyfriend-type sex with the blonde, I needed to take the edge off. I shuddered just thinking the word. Boyfriend. I didn’t think I’d ever been anyone’s boyfriend.
After putting on my helmet, I straddled the bike and revved the engine, enjoying the sound. When I peeled off, it was like no other rush. Though traffic was light, I took pleasure weaving in and out of it at breakneck speeds.
When I arrived, I parked in my space in the underground garage, confronted with a moral dilemma. Should I share with the blonde who I was? I wasn’t one for games, but I had a feeling if she knew, she might change her mind about what she had called me here for. Still, it was better to get it out in the open.
I stepped off the elevator and almost took out my key. Though I planned to level with her, revealing it by invading her privacy wasn’t an option. I disabled security not wanting a repeat of the last time before I lifted my hand and knocked, which honestly was weird.
The gorgeous blonde opened the door in my robe, which I’d seen her wear before—though I couldn’t mention it. She was tall enough it didn’t drag on the floor and I found myself once again not bothered that she’d helped herself to my things. Even here, my once sanctuary.
“You came,” she said, taking a step back to allow me entrance.
“Not yet, but we’ll see how the night goes.” I held her gaze a second longer before stepping over the threshold. When she closed the door, I faced her. “There’s something we need to discuss first.” I said, prepared to explain who I was.
She moved, light as a gazelle, and pressed a finger to my lips. “No talking. You might ruin it.”
I lifted a brow in question, and she shook her head.
“Just fuck me,” she added.
Who was I to question what she wanted? Still, there was something I had to say.
“Strip,” I commanded.
She stubbornly lifted her chin before tugging the tie free and shrugging the robe from her shoulders. It fell in a pool of silk and she stood completely naked without a shy bone in her body. My gaze ate up every inch of her skin, from her hairline to her toes, and I found myself painfully hard.
“Do you like what you see?” she asked, a teasing note in her voice as she slowly twirled, and I got a view of her lovely tight ass.
“Fuck me,” I muttered.
“What was that?” she asked as I followed her into the bedroom.
I shook my head. What the hell was this woman doing to me?
In response, she stuck her middle finger in her mouth and pulled it out only to draw a happy trail down between her breasts and directly to her clit. She circled it as her eyes went all glassy and she licked her pouty lips. I moved so fast, pinning her to the wall, she was shocked she found herself there.
“Don’t play games with me,” I all but growled.
“Then stop playing with me and put your cock to good use.”
My lips twitched, but I managed to hold back a grin before spinning her around and leaving her off balance. She had no choice but to bend and grab the mattress. Before she could crawl on, I held her back, giving her a silent message to stay where she was.
With her ass high in the air, I pulled a condom from my pocket. Tearing the wrapper with my teeth, I released my dick, then I rolled it on.
Before I plunged deep, I said, “I don’t do soft or sweet.”
Ten
Lizzy
After months of dickless sex, being filled almost felt like a new experience. I sucked in air, processing all the sensations flooding my body as he held still deep insid
e me. My white-knuckle grip on the edge of the mattress only tightened when he relentlessly moved. Each punishing stroke was filled with pleasure and a hint of pain. But the man knew exactly what to do, as if he knew my body better than I did.
His right hand smoothly slid from my hip until his fingers made contact with my swollen clit. I let out a gasp. With his expert pressure, any hint of pain was forgotten as my pleasure rose to new heights. I was no screamer, but even I couldn’t remain silent under the onslaught of his ministrations.
“Yes,” I cried, unable to hold back when his other hand found my nipple and squeezed the tightened bud. I dropped my head as I crested the first wave.
“Fuck,” he said as my inner walls spasmed around him.
If I’d thought he was done, I was wrong. A second later, I was flipped over onto my back, pulled to the edge of the mattress, hips hoisted in the air, before he was balls deep inside me again. From that angle, I got a view of his gorgeous face. The man was beautiful and didn’t shy from holding my gaze with his unreadable one.
The sounds of sex filled the room, drawing my attention to where we were joined as lovers. I got a glimpse of his thick cock when he pulled back before plunging forward again. As he hit bottom, there was still more of his dick that wasn’t inside me.
When I tried to sit up, his hand skimmed up my body, over my taut nipples, and caught my neck. He shoved me down, but not hard, and didn’t let go. The squeeze was gentle, but it did something completely unexpected—I felt myself rising to another feverish peak.
“You like that,” he said.
I was dizzy, almost floating on the pleasure, and unable to find my breath. “Hmm, hm.”
As if he knew, he released me, and I came harder than I ever had before. Boneless, I lay there, limp as a noodle, before he flipped me back over. My hips were lifted as he thrust again. With my head buried in the mattress, I moaned as he continued his beautiful assault.
He caught a handful of my hair and pulled back so he could lean over and whisper in my ear, “Have you had enough?”
The simple answer would be yes. I’d come enough times to be spent. But as far as I knew, he had yet to.
“How many times can you make me come?” I asked, managing a smirk and squeezing my inner walls as I did.
Suddenly, he lost his rhythm, slamming home as he exploded inside me with a roar. There was power in that. I’d made him come.
But he didn’t give up like I thought. He pulled out, dragged my ass to the edge of the bed, and ate me out as though there was no tomorrow.
When I woke late the next afternoon—more like early evening—there was a throbbing ache between my legs. He had to have crushed the world’s record of the number of times and ways he’d made me come. I wasn’t sure it would be possible for me to come again.
After stretching out my arm, I sat up in bed so fast, my head spun—I’d noticed for the first time, I was alone. “What a dick!”
My words echoed through the room, but there was no one but me to hear them. As I got out of bed, I heard the door open.
A Greek god walked through the door. “I see you’re finally up.”
Mentally, I apologized for cursing him before I focused on the welcome smell of coffee. For my ego’s sake, I tried my best not to limp over. His eyes dropped and a small smile curled the smug bastard’s lips as he extended the drink in my direction. I took it and eyed the bag he held.
After the first blessed swallow of life-reforming java, I asked, “What do you have there?”
He lifted the bag. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I got several things.”
I took it and exited the bedroom in favor of the sofa. There, I set my coffee on the table, opened the bag, and snagged the first delicious thing I could find—which, as it turned out, I judged as heaven on earth after only one bite.
“Are you going to share?”
I glanced over to find Striker still there. Somehow, I thought I might have conjured him as a fantasy because last night wasn’t real. But there he was, like a living Adonis. I tossed the bag, and he caught it one-handed. The boy had skills.
“Good catch,” I said.
“I’m good with my hands.”
“Of course you are.” I stood and glanced at my watch. “I’m going for a shower. I expect you’ll be gone by the time I get out.”
“I can join you,” he said. I didn’t have to see his face to imagine the smirk.
“I think you’ve done enough damage for one night. See yourself out.” With my spine straight, I walked into the bedroom.
Eleven
Connor
I had two options. Leave. That was the simple choice. The other was to go and get my fill because damn it all to hell, I wanted more.
As I walked toward the bathroom, I pulled my shirt over my head. One more time. Then I would tell her who I was. By the time I made it to the shower, I had no more clothes to shed.
“I’m not done with you,” I said as I stepped in. When her eyes went wide, I put a hand next to her head and leaned in. “You can always tell me to leave again.”
She surprised me by curling a hand in my hair and drawing me down. Her lips were soft and probed mine until I gave in to the pull. I kissed her back hard, and she bit my lip.
“I owe you one,” she said and slowly bent until she was on her knees.
She had no idea what she was doing. Seeing her looking like a God-sent submissive, I could have come the moment she wrapped those lovely lips around the head of my cock. Instead, I braced my arm on the tiled wall as she showed me she wasn’t just a princess but the queen of giving head. When I came, it was hard and long. I would have reciprocated if not for the sound of my phone ringing.
“Go ahead,” she said, getting to her feet.
I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my hips before heading out to see who was calling. The name on the display was Eliza. The phone had stopped ringing before I could answer. I dialed her again because she never called me to chat.
Before I finished saying hello, she said, “You need to come now.”
For some stupid reason, I heard the blonde’s voice in my head saying, I already came but I’m up for coming again. And I found myself smiling.
“What’s up?” I asked because I wasn’t ready to leave. I prayed the panic I’d heard in Eliza’s voice was overblown.
“I can’t explain over the phone. You need to get to club now.”
I didn’t like that I was worried. Eliza wasn’t overly dramatic, and her insistence only heightened my concern.
“I’ll be there in twenty,” I said, planning out my next move.
When I turned back, the blonde was beautifully naked and unabashed. Still wet from the shower, she wore only a coy smile. “Somewhere to be?”
As lovely as she could be, I remembered one important fact. “I don’t yet know your name.”
Though I had somewhere to be, I planned to honor the truth I owed her.
“I think it’s best we keep things casual. So… you’re Striker, and I’m whatever you want to call me.”
“Princess,” I said, grinning.
“Exactly. It’s not like this is going anywhere. Let’s keep it simple.”
“Yeah, about that…”
She moved like a lithe cat, suddenly in front of me with her finger to my lips. “Somehow I thought you would be okay with this arrangement. Don’t be a pussy now.”
I lifted my brows because the woman had balls. She was calling me a pussy when all I wanted to do was lick hers. In fact, she had me by the balls. Her response intrigued me more by the minute. If she didn’t want the truth, who was I to force it on her?
There was only one thing left to talk about. “I’m sure you’re a woman of your word?”
She folded her arms as though I’d insulted her. “I don’t renege, if that’s what you’re suggesting. I’ll call and give you your twenty-four hours.”
With that, I gave her a two-finger salute and took my leave. As I rode the elevat
or down, I put everything into perspective. I liked control and so did she. By definition, I shouldn’t want her or have enjoyed sex with her. Whatever need had driven me to this point should have died away. Yet, there I was, anticipating her call.
Before I could enjoy her pleasure again, I’d have to get through what came next. I put plans into action and got on my bike. Even flowing through the streets like a dream on my Harley didn’t put my thoughts at ease. I knew something with Eliza was wrong.
After I got off my bike, I checked the toys I’d brought to play with, then I went into my club and entered my office. I found I wasn’t alone. A man was seated behind my desk as if he owned the place.
He tapped steepled fingers. “The man of the hour.”
I stood there with a bored expression. He was waiting for me to ask something, like why he was there or why he was sitting behind my desk. But I already had those answers.
In the garage, in a secure hidden room, I’d checked the security cameras and spotted the trio. The kingpin of Dubai had arrived. He wasn’t unexpected. His daughter had come to the club.
With him, he’d brought two guys who looked like linemen on a professional football team. One was just a brute, all size but no muscle, with a head of shaggy hair and a beard. The other was built more like a bodybuilder. He had size, more muscle than fat, and was cleanly bald, though he looked younger than the other.
“You’re here about Sara,” I said, pronouncing her name the American way.
A flash of surprise widened his eyes a second before he schooled his features. “Very good, Mr. Black. I see you’ve done your homework.”
Mr. Black was my name in the underground world I operated in. Having anyone know me as the son of Royce King wouldn’t do me any favors. Lucky for me, I’d gone to boarding school and my father had done a good job of keeping my pictures out of the media, so everyone in this world believed that to be my name.
“I have, as I’m sure you have as well,” I said, remaining just a step inside the door.
The kingpin’s goons were in my line of sight—as was Eliza. She stood near the desk, at an angle where she could see him, his men, and me.
Kingdom Come Page 6