He opened his eyes, leveling me. Even in the moonlit room I recognized the dark look that told me he was passing the limits of his control. But he had no control now. My breath left me in a rush. Thighs spread over him, I harnessed all my willpower not to slam my cunt down onto him and drive us both over the edge.
“Three… now,” he growled.
“Relax,” I chided him softly. I feathered my free hand over his chest, pumping him with my other.
He swallowed with a grimace.
“Limit.”
He held me in his pained stare as I processed the meaning behind what he’d said.
Limit.
Oh, shit. The word rolled around in my head before I realized I needed to act. I clambered up his body and reached for his arms. Before I could reach him, his biceps flexed into tight balls and then I heard a snap. In a flash his hands were on me, his fingers digging into my hips.
I sucked in a sharp breath as he sat up, bringing us chest to chest. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and used the advantage to arch me back. I cried out. Maybe from the pain of his grip. Maybe from the rapture of having his hands on me finally. Maybe from the rapid twist of having complete control to relinquishing it so suddenly.
He moved me, unapologetically positioning me over his cock. A second later he was inside me, plunging deeply, once and then again, deeper still. I was slick around him, my pussy spasming instantly.
“Blake!” I sobbed with pleasure, clawing at him, wanting to hold him to me, but he couldn’t be contained. I clenched around his penetration, the friction and fervency of his thrusts hurdling me straight into an unstoppable orgasm. My thighs trembled, and I grasped at his shoulders as the climax crashed over me.
I could barely come down from the violent rush before I was on my back. Blake’s strong hand pinned both of mine above my head. Spreading me around his thighs, he pounded into me, moving us both up the bed in a series of powerful thrusts. I was breathless, grasping but unable to free myself from the onslaught of his passion.
“What do you want, Erica? Do you want me to fuck you this way, or do you want me to lie down so you can play Dom?”
He was taunting me with the very thing I’d tried to strip him of, and hell if I’d never wanted anything more. I was melting around him. I wanted everything he could give me. He was everywhere. Holding me down, pressing against me, restraining me, devastating me from the inside out.
And right now I only wanted him to take what was his—my body, my heart, and God, my submission. If that’s what this was, I wanted to serve it up to him on a silver platter because I’d never felt so dominated and so completely aroused by his determination.
“I want you to fuck me,” I admitted, no shred of doubt or hesitation coming out with my words. “Just like this.”
He slammed into me, his jaw tight. “This is me. This is us,” he ground out.
I cried out every time he hit the deepest part of me, all my senses launching into overload. “I want this. I want you,” I said between my jagged breaths. My heart twisted, adding weight to the force of the orgasm that hit me. My head fell back, my neck arching off the edge of the bed where his violent fucking had pushed us. He caught my nape, bringing me back. He released my hands to hoist my hips up, fucking me at an angle that sent me into orbit.
The edges of my vision went black. My breath caught. When I found it again, I screamed, tearing my nails down his shoulder while his cock punished the sensitive spot inside of me.
A painful cry tore from his throat and he collapsed over me. I struggled for breath under his weight, but whatever had happened between us had me wanting him close. I wrapped my arms around him, pushing my fingers through his damp hair. Lazily, I caressed the places where I’d marked him harshly until slowly he crawled off and disappeared into the bathroom. By the time he returned, I’d fallen asleep, wrecked.
CHAPTER NINE
The bed was empty when I awoke. I showered, dressed, and met Blake in the kitchen. A small plate of fruit was set at my place at the island. He looked away, grabbed a mug, and poured my coffee, setting it down beside my breakfast.
“Thank you.” I stared down at my fruit, moving it around the plate. For last night’s exertions, I should have been able to eat a hungry man’s breakfast, but my nerves were destroying my appetite.
“What was last night about?”
I felt a flush creep up to my cheeks. Why was I embarrassed? Blake had done far worse to me, but somehow my doing it to him seemed entirely different. The look in his eyes told me so.
“I had a dream,” I said quietly, not knowing what else to say.
“About dominating me?”
“No, the opposite actually.”
“Really.” His voice was so calm, his face the only indicator that anything was amiss.
“I’m still upset with you.”
“So you decided to tie me up while I was sleeping?” The question almost sounded innocent.
I winced. “You were half awake, Blake. Not to mention you’re twice my size and you snapped the cuffs like a piece of twine. You’re acting like I handcuffed you and tortured you.”
“Is that what I should expect next time?”
I rolled my eyes and stabbed a piece of my fruit. I chewed in silence a moment. “It didn’t occur to me that you had…limits.”
His jaw ticked. “It didn’t occur to me, either.”
“I don’t know the rules of this game, Blake. You refuse to talk to me about it.”
He laughed roughly. “Is this about the club?”
I answered with my eyes, hoping he’d open up to me about it. “Why won’t you talk about it?”
His lips went thin. “Enough about the club! I don’t need a label between us to know I want to control your pleasure. And I don’t need a fucking safeword.”
His anger shot off the walls of the room until there was only silence again. He walked toward me, his palms curling over the edge of the counter near where I sat. I’d rattled him. My playing, which had been innocent enough, had shaken him deeper than I ever imagined. I was playing a game I knew nothing about.
He leaned in and kissed my cheek. I sighed, relieved to sense him softening toward me.
“But you do,” he whispered, setting off a new ripple of anticipation. “Because I’m going to push you past every boundary. I’m going to fuck you every way a woman can be fucked.”
I closed my eyes at his dark promise. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“You didn’t realize that someone like me doesn’t want to be tied up.”
“You do it to me all the time,” I shot, tears stinging my eyes.
“Did it feel better to pretend that I’m someone I’m not?” His voice was gentler.
I shook my head, regretting all of it. My little foray into dominance was backfiring in a big way. I wasn’t satisfied at all. We were both hurt and off balance.
“No.” I shoved off from the counter and left for work without him before I broke down.
I was tired and confused, and for once, I longed for the stability of work, the familiarity of the office and the people who filled it.
Clay played defense when another reporter was waiting for me outside the office.
Great. That was all I needed.
Now that the reporters were showing up at work, the thought occurred to me that negative press probably wasn’t what Alex wanted either. Maybe fast-tracking was good, because once Alex knew I was potentially linked with the investigation surrounding Daniel, maybe he’d want to distance himself from us. I pushed the thought away and went through my morning routine at the office.
About an hour later, I heard the office door open and Alli speaking with someone. A few seconds later she was at my desk with a small red box that rested in her hands.
“What’s this?”
“I don’t know. A courier just dropped it off.” She set it in front of me on the center of my desk. The box was covered with velvet and tied with a black satin bow. If it was fro
m Blake, I could only imagine its contents.
“No sender?” I asked.
“I didn’t ask, but I’d be willing to bet it’s from Blake.” She shot me a mischievous smile.
I returned a weak one. Was he sorry? The way I’d left this morning had not been good. He hadn’t cooled off from the night before, so I couldn’t imagine he’d experienced a dramatic change of heart in the few hours since I’d left him standing there in the kitchen.
“Okay, thanks.”
I slowly untied the bow. I lifted the lid, revealing bunches of thick black tissue paper. I pushed through it until my fingers met a texture I recognized. Leather. And then something cool. Metal studs. I stared into the box, my heart thundering. It was a ball gag. A flash of red beneath the leather straps caught my eye. I pushed the gag to the side and retrieved a tiny card.
Erica,
I regret that I’ll be missing your nuptials, but I would be remiss if I didn’t send a gift to mark this joyous occasion in your lives. Here’s a little memento from our adventures at the club. Maybe you two can carry on the tradition.
All the best,
Sophia
The handwriting was feminine but jagged, the S looping over the other letters. My hands trembled and I dropped the note. The gag sat inside the box and my stomach rolled. The mere sight of it sent my adrenaline rocketing out of control. Knowing that Blake had used the thing on Sophia was making me physically ill. I wanted to throw it into the trash, but instead I sat frozen, studying the box quietly. The device didn’t look old, but it wasn’t new. The leather was worn slightly where the hook met the belt hole. My imagination flooded with terrible unwelcome images of them together. Her bound, him seeking his pleasure from her submission the way he had with me so many times.
My eyes burned, and my lips quivered beyond my control. I grabbed the card and crushed it in my palm. Doing so did nothing to relieve the pressure that built inside my chest. I closed my eyes, and in my mind, I screamed every vile name I could think of.
Sophia had hit her mark, and what perfect timing too, after the night we’d had. I was reeling. Releasing the card, I noticed more writing on the back. I straightened the thick crumpled paper and blinked, clearing my vision to read the small text printed on the back.
La Perle, 990 North Hampton Street, Boston, MA
Everything went still. Reading the words seemed to open a valve in my chest. I could breathe again, but it still hurt. Sophia was taunting me, in more ways than one. If the contents of this box were the problem, maybe this hint, however unwelcome, was the answer.
For the rest of the morning, my mind was a war zone. If Sophia had wanted to send me over the edge with imagined memories of Blake fucking her, she’d done a great job. My appetite non-existent, I worked through lunch in a near manic state. I forced my thoughts away from the package that had finally found a home in the trash receptacle beside my desk, but I was consumed by only one thing. I searched the name and address of the club online, finding nothing of interest or anything to indicate what kind of place it was. It was as if the place didn’t even exist, save the little red pin that showed its location on the map.
The clock hit three, and I Skyped Alli, nervous energy pulsing through my veins as I did. What the hell was I doing?
Erica Hathaway: I need to borrow your closet. Do you want to cut out early?
Alli Malloy: Sure. Let me ask the boss.
I wanted to smile, but I was too far from levity right now. I shut down my computer, grabbed my purse, and met Alli in the hallway where we quickly descended to the street. We stepped into the Escalade and directed Clay where to take us.
Alli’s eyes were wide. “What’s the occasion? It’s only Wednesday.”
“I’m surprising Blake. And I need something…um, really sexy.” This shouldn’t have surprised her, considering she still believed the mysterious red box had come from him.
She hummed. “Okay, I definitely can help with that. What are we talking, Vegas-sexy or you’re not leaving the house sexy?”
I swallowed hard, the reality of what I was about to do dropping like a rock in my stomach. I wished I could share a fraction of the excitement Alli seemed to have about what tonight would bring. Unfortunately, sex wasn’t the only thing I had to look forward to. “Vegas sexy should be fine,” I said quickly, shifting my focus out the window.
Clay dropped us at Alli and Heath’s apartment a few minutes later. Alli riffled through her ample closet and tossed out a handful of tiny dresses. A few I recognized from our trip to Vegas months ago. At the time, I couldn’t imagine walking around in public in these outfits. The normal discomfort I’d feel from being seen in a barely-there mini dress paled in comparison to the unknown of how I’d be received at the club, if they even let me in. This could all turn into one humiliating mess, but Blake still wasn’t talking and I needed answers. Tonight, one way or the other, I’d get them.
“This one is fine.” I smoothed my hand over a black mini dress made of stretchy cotton sateen that would fit tightly over my curves. I brought it up to my front, gauging that it would hit mid-thigh. The neckline was a revealing scoop, which would accentuate my cleavage. I had no idea what I’d be walking into tonight, but I was determined to at least try to look the part.
The truth of the matter was I had no fucking idea what I was doing.
* * *
I fiddled with the buttons of the long jacket that concealed the outfit that was hardly appropriate for any old Wednesday night date. Clay turned down a few more streets, and I knew we were getting close. My stomach rolled with my anxiety. I fought the urge to throw up and instead shot off a text to Blake and turned my phone to silent. Thank God Clay had no idea where he was taking me, which gave me some small measure of comfort. He hadn’t taken Blake here since he’d hired him to keep tabs on me. Already I had a million questions, and the one that kept pushing its way to the forefront of my brain was when he’d been here last.
Clay turned onto North Hampton, and a thousand scenarios spun through my head. Maybe they’d be closed. I could go home and surprise Blake with this outfit and pretend like Sophia hadn’t sent me a relic from their D/s sex life. Maybe they’d take one look at me and tell me to get lost or find the nearest street corner. Heaven knew the outfit I was wearing would warrant such a reaction.
He slowed in front of a row of brownstones. The building was simply marked with a plaque reading 990, with no indication that we were anywhere important. Clay squinted and glanced back at me with a wary look. “This it?”
“Yeah, um, I think so.” I scolded myself for sounding so nervous.
“Want me to wait for you?”
I hesitated. Maybe he should. God, Blake was going to skin me alive for this one. Fear shot through me all over again when my phone vibrated for the third time.
“Sure, if you want to until I’m inside.” I tried to sound innocent.
“Does Blake know you’re here?”
“Yeah, of course. He’s meeting me here,” I reached for the door handle before I needed to lie again. I liked Clay, and I already felt guilty. He’d no doubt get a verbal lashing from Blake that might rival my own.
“All right,” he said after a moment.
Confident he almost believed me, I stepped out and climbed the steps to the broad wooden door. I was running out of time to follow through. I located the buzzer to the right, pressed it, and waited impatiently. I rotated my weight between my feet, careful not to offset my balance and tumble. A minute later the door opened. A girl with long bleached blond hair stood before me. She was dressed entirely in black, a small halter and leather pants. Her makeup was heavy, and I began to feel a little better about my attire.
Our eyes met and she stared blankly. “Can I help you?”
I licked my lips, feeling uneasy. They weren’t going to just let me waltz in here, skank dress or not. “I’m meeting someone here,” I said, my voice wavering more than I wanted it to.
She toyed with the shiny metal tha
t looped through the side of her lower lip. “Who?”
Oh hell, here we go. I shoved my nerves to the side. “Blake Landon.”
Her pierced eyebrow lifted before she shifted her bored stare past me. She stepped back and lifted her chin a fraction, motioning for me to come forward.
I stepped far enough inside for her to close the heavy door behind me. I moved to follow her, but she raised her hand. “Wait here.”
I nodded quickly, as if I knew that was protocol. I knew nothing. I was officially in well over my head. Time stretched on. Every second felt like an eternity as I waited for her to return or for Blake to come barging in after me.
Then I heard someone coming down the hall. My breath caught when, instead of the girl, a man nearly twice her age greeted me. He was dressed well in a black suit and a white shirt unbuttoned casually at the collar. Even in the poor light of the foyer, I could see his skin was dark, not tanned but naturally olive. He regarded me coolly. I knew instantly that I was in the right place, and without question, that this man knew Blake.
“Tessa tells me you know Mr. Landon. Is this true?” His voice was smooth, cultured, and tinted with an accent that I couldn’t place among my scattered thoughts.
“Yes. I’m actually meeting him here.” I battled the urge to break away from the intensity of his stare. The quiet humor in his eyes made me feel small and vulnerable in his presence, as if he held a wealth of knowledge above me. I had little doubt he did. Still, I sensed that he wanted to believe me, which made it easier to lie somehow. “He should be here soon,” I added, just in case this dark and dangerous stranger was having any thoughts about locking me up in his cage in the interim.
He held out his hand. I hesitated for a moment that seemed too long, and then accepted the gesture. I tightened my grip, expecting him to shake my hand. Instead he turned my palm down and lowered his lips to the top of my hand. The kiss was sweet, but if a kiss could have layers, this one did. Something about the firm but gentle grasp on my hand, the slow purposeful way he grazed my skin, and the dark look in his eyes when he lifted them to mine had my heart racing with fear. And something else, something darker that I couldn’t name. This man was a Dom. I was willing to put money on it.
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