by Lauren Smith
Kenzie’s body burned as she joined him in that fantasy, spellbound.
“I can feel it all in my head, feel how good it would be to jerk your jeans down and fuck you on my desk. You would come so hard you would scream, and the sound would ricochet off the walls.” The hard lines of his perfect jaw could’ve been cut from stone. She was caught up in the moment, melting from the inside as his words rendered her speechless.
“Every time you looked at me from your desk, it was there in your eyes, that Fuck me Dr. Devereaux look.”
Oh. My. God. He knew. Somehow he’d always known.
Kenzie’s arousal had been building ever since they’d kissed in the hotel pool. But now she was on fire inside. Her thighs clamped down around his hips, and she couldn’t resist rocking against him. He shifted beneath her.
“Don’t test me, babe.” He groaned with frustration. “I’m not good at self-control, not when we’re so far away from home.”
“Why’s that…sir?” she asked quietly, their gazes still locked.
“Because here there’s no one to remind me to be good.” He pressed her closer, his hands shaking as though he was on the verge of losing all control. “I could take you over and over, here where there aren’t students to see us, no faculty watching our every move. It’s just us. So you’d better say red before I lose my mind and break every goddamn promise I ever made to stay away from you.” The edge to his tone warned her he meant every word.
Kenzie couldn’t breathe. He wanted her as much she wanted him. So much that they were both losing their minds.
She was done being good, done pretending she had to deny herself what she wanted. She bit her bottom lip, holding his attention, and then she spoke the words that would send their stars colliding.
“Fuck me, Dr. Devereaux.”
Royce’s eyes widened and then narrowed, his breathing turned harsh, and before she could react he lifted her off the couch. With a squeak, she wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried them over to the bed. He dropped her on the bed and stood there, towering over her. He gripped the bottom of his black sweater, pulled it over his head, and tossed it to the floor. As he unbuttoned his jeans, he paused, breathing hard as he looked at her.
Finally, she was going to get the one thing she thought she could never have. Him. Joy, pure and bright, filled her like an exploding star. Her body hummed with a building desire that was unstoppable now that she’d made up her mind that she wanted to be with him.
“You want to stop? Now is your last chance, Little Mac. It’s all or nothing.”
She lifted her chin, challenging him. “I want it all.”
The slow, wicked grin on his lips made her stomach flutter. He lunged for her, rolling her over onto her stomach. Shocked, she gasped as he pulled her hips up, unbuttoned her jeans, and pulled them down to her knees. She wore a pair of black panties underneath, and he groaned as he gripped them in his fist and yanked. The snap of breaking elastic stung her skin, causing another wave of heat through her core. Her folds grew wet from his rough handling. He gave her ass a hard smack and she hissed, burrowing her head in the bed, swallowing down the hungry moan that almost escaped.
“Ask me,” he growled. “No, beg me.” She looked at him over her shoulder as excitement electrified her senses. He pulled the foil packet of a condom out of his jeans and tore it open with his teeth. She knew what he wanted to hear, and she wanted to say it too.
“Fuck me, Dr. Devereaux, show me how bad I’ve been.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” he cursed, and jerked his jeans down. She had only an instant to see the thick length of his impressive cock jutting out before he sheathed a condom over it and then surged into her. He was too big, stretching her with the full sensation of his cock inside her. Pleasure pooled in her belly, and she arched her back with a hiss of pleasure. He wasn’t gentle—he was a pounding, merciless god of sex. It felt like he was trying to kill her with overwhelming pleasure as he rammed into her over and over. His fingers dug at her hips, and she knew his hold would leave bruises, but it felt so good she didn’t care.
He’s marking your body. He’s owning you. Just like you always wanted.
She knew she wasn’t going to last another second. When the climax hit, it was like she’d fallen into a pit of firecrackers that were going off all around her. Explosions of pleasure, flashes of blinding light. She whimpered into the mattress as he leaned over her, slowing down his thrusts.
“You like that, babe?”
She nodded weakly.
He kissed the shell of her ear before he straightened and gripped her hips and began to ride her slower, making her feel each burning inch of him. Little aftershocks of pleasure still pulsed inside her channel as she clamped down on his shaft, squeezing tight.
“God, you feel like paradise. Like I died and went to heaven.” His voice was low, almost guttural now.
“Royce, I can’t—”
“Sir,” he snapped, and his hand came down on her ass cheek.
“Sir,” she echoed, blood pounding in her ears.
“Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are, Little Mac? That little ass up in the air, the way you clamp down on my cock—you’re so fucking tight babe, so tight it’s like no man’s ever been inside you before.”
His thrusts began to build in speed again. “I need to hear you scream it, shout it.” His commands were followed by his body ratcheting up like a jackhammer. His hips slammed against her ass over and over, and the words came out of her mouth just like he wanted.
“Fuck me, Dr. Devereaux.” Over and over again, she wasn’t sure how many times she shouted those words. When she came a second time, everything went dark around her.
She came back to life a few seconds later, her mind fuzzy and her body limp. Every muscle was completely drained. And he was still inside her, fucking her hard. She groaned as he shoved deep, his cock filling her again and again, and he bellowed hard enough to make the walls shake. Then she felt him pull out, his harsh breath above her as she closed her eyes, still bent over the bed. Her legs sagged into the side of the mattress, but she had no strength to move.
That strange hot fuzziness seemed to deepen, like she was buried in a dozen thick blankets before a roaring fire.
“Little Mac, you okay?” Royce’s voice was soft and gentle again, and yet she couldn’t find the strength to speak.
“Hold on, babe, I got you.” He pulled her jeans completely off her body, and she rolled over onto her back. He stripped her of her sweater and bra, then pulled her into his arms, carrying her into the bathroom. He set her inside the massive jetted bathtub in the corner. She wrapped her arms around her body as a chill set in.
Royce leaned over the tub and turned on the taps, testing the water. She flinched as the cold water sprinkled her toes, and she tucked her knees up to her chin. He changed the taps, and the hot water crept up the tub’s base toward her.
“Hang on,” Royce said as he kissed her forehead and removed his briefs. She stared at his fully naked body, still lightheaded.
“Plenty of room for us both.” He eased into the tub and then lifted her up and settled her on his lap. She curled into him, pressing her face into his throat, comforted by the dark piney scent that was uniquely his as the bath tub filled. She had no idea why she felt so strange, so muddled, but she could barely think, except to realize she felt safe in Royce’s arms.
“You’re okay, Kenzie,” Royce said, one of his hands holding her back, pressing her close to him.
“Everything feels so…” She couldn’t find the right words. “Cloudy,” she finally said.
“Yeah, I know, babe. I know.” He nuzzled the crown of her hair before he spoke again. “I think I sent you into subspace.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s where a submissive is so overcome with her experiences that she fully lets go. It’s sort of a sensual state of meditation. You go deep into your own head.”
“Is that bad?” Kenzie didn’t like t
he sound of subspace. She wasn’t accustomed to feeling weak. Being weak meant she was vulnerable, and she never liked that under any circumstances.
“No, it’s a good thing. For you to go into subspace while you’re with me, it’s nirvana to me. It means you trust me. You gave me all of yourself, and that total trust and openness exhausted your body. You’ll be back to normal soon, I promise.” He kissed her forehead, and she looked up at him.
“But the best part about subspace is that when you’re with a good Dom, he will take care of you, spoil you. It’s called aftercare, and this part is all about you, babe.” He reached up to shut the water off, and she noticed the water had come up to her neck, heating her whole body. Royce’s hands moved over her skin, stroking each limb, petting and caressing. It wasn’t sensual exactly—rather it was soothing. The burning sexual tension that had moments before sent them catapulting off the edge of control was still there, but it was softened by a layer of comfort and familiarity between them. Her body belonged to herself once again, and she felt strangely new inside it, like an out-of-body experience in reverse. But as long as he held her, she felt good; she felt safe and grounded in the moment.
“Do you have any regrets?” he asked.
“Regrets? About what we did?” She shook her head. “I should regret everything, but…” But she couldn’t. He’d just given her the most mind-blowing sex of her life, based on her darkest and most intimate fantasies, fantasies she now knew he shared. How could she ever regret that?
“Good. I never want you to regret anything while you’re with me,” he said.
She wouldn’t regret any of this now, but it didn’t stop her from worrying about what would happen later, when they returned to Long Island. They’d have to go back to normal, or at least pretend. She didn’t know how to protect herself or him if this ever came to light. And she definitely didn’t want to think about what the future held or what “together” meant for them. It was all too complicated, and right now complicated was not what she needed.
She shifted on his lap, feeling his thick shaft nudge her bottom. He was aroused again, which was understandable given they were sitting naked in a tub, but he didn’t push himself on her, didn’t make her do anything about his arousal. He was simply content to hold her in his arms and let the hot water soak into their skin.
She couldn’t help it. It was so relaxing that she began to drift off to sleep, clinging to him like her life depended on it.
Because in a way, it did.
“Fuck me, Dr. Devereaux.”
He’d never forget how those words sounded as they escaped her lips. He’d shared his dream, his ultimate fantasy, the one he’d jacked off to in the shower more times than he could count, and she’d given in and surrendered to him and his fantasy.
And it had been a thousand times better than anything his imagination had come up with. She’d managed to drift into subspace during their first time together. He’d never had that happen before with any woman. Not even the trained submissives at the Gilded Cuff were able to manage that.
He stared down at her, relishing how small and delicate she felt in his arms. So beautiful. He’d jumped on her like a rutting beast and hadn’t even taken the time to enjoy exploring her.
We still have time for that. He would make sure of it. He had a thousand other fantasies he wanted to try out on her: tie her up, lick her folds until she cried out in pleasure…
And yet it had taken a fossil-smuggling ring and the Russian mob to get his grad student into his bed.
He held Kenzie for another fifteen minutes, listening to her soft, shallow breaths. She was asleep now. Something fuzzy and indescribable turned over in his chest. A strange sense of contentment began to fill him. He hadn’t felt like this since… He closed his eyes, memories coming back, sharp and clear as the day they’d happened.
The firelight of the small campfire cast shadows against the tent. He sat between Fenn and Emery Lockwood, while Wes Thorne sat at the far end of their group. They laughed, holding sticks with gooey marshmallows over the small fire in front of their tent. There was joy. There was innocence.
This was the last night before his world changed, before his boyhood was ripped away, leaving him wounded inside and his throat raw from silent screams. Holding Kenzie now was like that final night before his childhood ended.
Grief was a funny thing. He’d spent twenty-five years mourning Fenn, thinking the men who’d kidnapped him had killed him when he was eight years old. But Fenn was alive. Fenn was okay. Yet the grief remained.
He had to stop mourning a ghost. Perhaps he was actually mourning the twenty-five years of a friendship he’d never gotten to have? Fenn’s childhood was a loss that Royce was still coming to grips with, but the loss of his parents? That ran far deeper. When he’d lost Fenn, his parents had been his last refuge from the rest of the world. But then he’d lost them too, and he’d realized just how completely alone he was. That kind of grief could kill a man. But Kenzie not only eased the grief, she made it fade almost entirely. When he laughed with her, talked with her, shared his passion for fossils with her, it felt like they were partners in a way he was only just now starting to understand. She was a woman a man built a life with, and as much as he was convinced he wasn’t the marrying kind, she was tempting him far more than he’d ever imagined anyone could.
Royce tightened his arms around her. He tried never to think of the past, especially those years when he’d spiraled close to the edge, trying to lose himself in sex, alcohol, fast cars, and loose women. But now he had everything to lose. Kenzie, their careers, maybe even their lives. Suddenly everything he’d thought didn’t matter now mattered so much it scared the hell out of him.
Was this how Emery, Fenn, and Wes felt when they held their women in their arms? If it was, he would never give them any shit again about it. He might not love Kenzie, but he cared about her a hell of a lot, cared like crazy, and that was enough to make him pause and think.
He couldn’t take her to Vadym’s club, not when it would put her at so much risk. He’d been a fool to think he could take her there and keep her safe while he also tried to take out Vadym, but he hadn’t wanted to leave her alone. He had to protect her at all costs. He could call Dimitri and get another sub for the club tomorrow night; that way Kenzie would stay at the hotel.
Carefully lifting her off him, he pulled the drain in the tub and then carried her out of the bath. He set her down on the floor and wrapped her in a fluffy white towel. She stirred and mumbled something he didn’t quite hear.
“Time to get you into bed.” He lifted her up again, loving how good she felt, how perfect she was. When he laid her down on the bed, she sighed and nuzzled her pillow. As much as he wanted to sleep next to her, skin to skin, he knew if he did he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her.
He dug through her suitcase until he found an oversize red flannel shirt and another pair of black panties. He gave her shoulder a gentle shake. She blinked her eyes awake.
“Hey, Little Mac, help me get these on you. Then you can go back to sleep.”
She sat up, a little dazed as she took the panties from him and slipped them on. Then she dropped the towel and pulled the shirt on. He turned his head away, not out of a sense of modesty, but for his own peace of mind. If he saw her breasts and her full hips, he might jump her all over again, and she needed rest. A lot of it. Opening up to him, going into subspace in their first encounter was still unbelievable.
Kenzie crawled between the covers of the massive king-size bed and drifted back to sleep. God, she was so damn trusting. He slipped on a pair pajama pants before he got under the covers and pulled her body toward him. She rolled over, her hair falling onto his chest. She smelled so good, like vanilla and a hint of flowers. No expensive cloying perfume from a bottle for his Little Mac. Just natural perfection.
He folded an arm behind his head and closed his eyes. That sense of peace was still there inside him. Being with Kenzie like this reminded him
of his first dig in the Badlands.
He remembered standing amid the tall red-and-yellow rock formations, his boots crunching on cracked clay beds. The wind whistled across the stones, and the fierce sun bathed the world in blood-red and gold shades of color. He’d felt so at peace there. He could still close his eyes and feel the sandstone beneath his palms, smoothed by the wind and rain over thousands of years. The sun’s heat was trapped within the earth, burning his fingers, and the scent of limestone was carried on the breeze that rustled through the tents of his fellow paleontologists.
The thin rock spires in the distance had been like unsteady obelisks in a haunted landscape. The land bore some of the most varied dinosaur fossils the world had ever seen. He remembered the rock wrens burrowing into holes in walls, and how he felt at home there in a way he couldn’t explain. Perhaps it was because he was one of Earth’s most recent creatures on a quest for some of Earth’s most ancient.
Holding Kenzie in his arms now was just like that, an ancient quest for something he wasn’t quite able to put a name on. A strange and wondrous connection was growing between the two of them, and it both scared the hell out of him and fascinated him.
I’m in deep shit.
What if he got too close? What if she died? What if they both fucked this up so bad that it destroyed their lives? He stroked a hand over her silky dark hair and sighed. It was going to be a long damn night.
In time he managed to drift into that place between awake and asleep, the place that held him helpless as he watched dreams play behind his eyelids.
He was on a plane, in a small but luxurious cabin peering out at the night and seeing the city below. The lights glittered like a thousand diamonds scattered across a swath of black velvet. Mist and fog crawled up from the edge of the sea, blurring the twinkle of city lights.