by Erika Wilde
Holy shit. The woman looked like Summer, but Rick told himself that his eyes were deceiving him. Making him see what he wanted to because she’d been on his mind too damn much. But then those cherry-red lips curved into a sweet smile, and she laughed at something Mitchell said. Rick’s entire body stiffened. He was intimately familiar with that light, flirtatious sound that made his stomach tighten with desire.
He swore beneath his breath, his fingers tightening on the balcony railing. As desperate as he was to deny that Summer was here at The Players Club, there was no mistaking it was her.
Jesus, what the fuck was she doing there?
The two of them stood up again, and Mitchell placed his hand on her back, leading her toward the stairway that led to private playrooms. The knowledge that she was about to be alone with another man with dominant tendencies poured jealousy through Rick’s veins and spurred him into action.
He raced down the stairs, coming face-to-face with the couple as they walked out of the lounge. Rick deliberately blocked their path, forcing them to stop, and while Mitchell frowned, Summer stared at him with huge, round eyes.
“Rick,” she breathed, her expression startled.
He met Mitchell’s confused gaze. “She’s with me tonight.” Then Rick grabbed Summer’s arm and pulled her toward him. “You’re coming with me.”
Normally sweet and docile, Summer resisted, planting her heels firmly on the marble flooring. “No, I’m not.” Her chin lifted, her pretty blue eyes flashing stubbornly. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”
Rick disagreed. The fact that she was about to be Mitchell’s plaything for the night had him on the verge of blowing a fucking fuse.
Mitchell glanced between the two of them, his expression etched with concern, despite knowing Rick and his sterling reputation at the club. “Are you sure she’s with you?”
Between himself and Declan, Rick had always been the easygoing one, but tonight, in this precise moment, he felt as though something animalistic had been unleashed in him. No way was he letting Summer walk away with this other man, and he narrowed his gaze on her, making sure she saw the direct challenge in his eyes. “Say your fucking safe word and I’ll let you go.”
It was as simple as that. He gave her a choice, and his gut twisted when he saw the flash of defiance in her gaze. Where the fuck did that come from and why did it make his dick hard as stone?
He braced himself for her to say red, which he wouldn’t be able to refute, and he’d be forced to release her to Mitch. The thought of her spending the night with another man—the first, he suspected, since Declan—ripped something inside of him to shreds.
Her sexy red lips pursed for a moment, and then she glanced at Mitchell. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect this to happen.”
Mitchell looked all sorts of bewildered. He was a man who understood submissive women, but it was clear that Summer wasn’t going with Rick all meek and mild. She looked furious with him, which only made Rick more irritable, too.
With a cordial nod at Mitchell, Rick wrapped his fingers around Summer’s wrist and led her toward the private room he’d reserved for tonight, just in case he’d found someone who interested him. He stabbed his code into the keypad, then pulled her inside and made sure the door locked behind them.
She yanked her hand from his grasped and glared at him. “When did you become so boorish and bad-mannered?”
“When did you become so bold and rebellious?” He was shocked to see that the sad, heartbroken woman she’d been the past four months—including the week before at dinner—was gone. At least in this moment, she wasn’t anywhere to be found, and he wasn’t sure what had changed or when.
“When I realized that feeling sorry for myself was getting me nowhere,” she replied, her new impudent demeanor making Rick’s palm itch to spank her ass, given the chance.
Standing a few feet away from her, he crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you doing here at The Players Club?”
“The same thing you’re doing.” She sighed and shook her head. “For God’s sake, Rick, I’m single. Declan made sure of that, and I have every right to be here as much as you do. I can’t lament the loss of him forever. I miss him, so damn much, but at some point, I have to move on and live my life again.”
He heard the ache in her voice and suspected that decision hadn’t been an easy one for her to make. Or even coming back to The Players Club without Declan. But Rick also knew that Summer was a woman who’d traded in her vanilla sex life for two men with more assertive tendencies the first time she’d visited the club and hadn’t looked back.
Tonight, having returned to the club, she was making it clear she wasn’t looking to be coddled or searching for a sweet, gentle encounter. Rick was well aware of what she desired—a firmer hand and submitting to darker, more sinful demands—and Lord help him, he was prepared to deliver.
He closed the distance between them, and tucking his fingers beneath her chin, he lifted her gaze up to his, trying not to let those soft red lips of hers distract him. “You want to play tonight?” he murmured huskily. “Then play with me, because I’m not letting another man touch you.”
She arched a brow at his definitive statement. “You’re not letting another man touch me?” she challenged.
“I’m not a stranger. You know me,” he said more persuasively. “You trust me. I’ll give you everything you need.”
She swallowed hard, her blue eyes softening as they searched his. “What I need is to forget about Declan, at least for a while. I don’t want to think tonight. I just want to feel something other than grief and heartache. I just want to lose myself in pleasure.”
He could provide that escape and more. There was no doubt in his mind that if he allowed her to walk out the door, she’d find someone else or go back to Mitchell, and he wasn’t willing to give her that opportunity. He also understood that she loved Declan, and Rick still felt as though his stepbrother was a fucking idiot for letting her go, but he couldn’t imagine Summer “moving on” to another man, not when he had the ability to be everything she needed in this moment.
Done talking, he released her chin and stepped back, deciding to start a scene and see if she followed along or walked out of the playroom. “Take off your dress.”
Her eyes widened in startled surprise at his abrupt demand. “What?”
“You heard me, sweetheart,” he said, and walked around her to lower the zipper down her back before facing her again. “If there’s an issue, you have a safe word you can use. Otherwise, take off your dress, unless you want me to rip it the rest of the way off your body.”
There was no disguising the spark of excitement that flashed in her eyes as she obeyed his order. She quickly removed her dress, leaving her standing before him in a red lace bra and matching panties. The deep, rich color was a stark, sexy contrast against her creamy skin and blonde hair and accentuated her stiff nipples poking against the thin fabric of her bra.
Lust surged all the way down to his thickening dick, while his jaw clenched at the thought of any other man in the place seeing her like this.
He began unbuttoning his shirt to take it off while she watched. “Have you taken a look around the room?” he asked, certain she hadn’t bothered during their earlier conversation.
She shook her head and did so now, her gaze skimming over the bed before moving on to view all the erotic furniture the last room she’d shared with him and Declan hadn’t provided. Stocks. A St. Andrew’s Cross. A spanking bench, and more.
Letting her soak it all in while wondering about his intentions, he shrugged off his shirt and tossed it onto a nearby chair, then strolled toward the armoire against the far wall. He opened the doors and searched for what he wanted.
“Do I get to pick something, too?” she asked, anticipation in her voice at the possibility, since he and Declan had allowed to do so their last time together.
“No,” he said, his tone firm as he selected a leather paddle and a small cl
itoral stimulator, which he took out of its box. “You’ll take whatever I decide to give you, which in this case is a punishment for your actions tonight.”
She shifted on her feet when she saw the items in his hand, watching him warily as he strolled back to her, then set them on a nearby table as he began unbuckling his belt.
“Strip off the rest of your clothes.”
While he took off his pants, shoes, and socks, which left him in his black boxer briefs, he enjoyed the view as she slowly removed her bra, then her panties. She stood before him, gloriously naked, literally taking his breath away at how gorgeous she was.
He led her toward one of the pieces of furniture in the room, upholstered in black leather. “Do you know what this is?” he asked.
She nodded her head tentatively. “I . . . I think it’s a spanking bench.”
“It is, and you’re going to kneel on the padded leg rests, then bend over the upper platform so I can secure your hands and legs to the bench,” he said, making her aware of what he intended to do, knowing how much she enjoyed being restrained.
She complied, moving into position, and with her legs spread wide on the knee rests, he strapped her ankles and calves to the padded supports and secured her wrists to the front legs of the apparatus. She was on her knees, bent over at the waist, unable to move, and his to do with as he pleased.
He gently placed a hand on the middle of her back and caressed his palm down to her bare bottom. “Are you comfortable?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, a slight quiver in her voice. “Am I supposed to be?”
He chuckled lightly at her doubtful tone. “While you’re restrained to the bench, yes,” he affirmed, leaving her a moment to retrieve the items he’d left on the nearby table. “It’s what happens while you’re secured to the bench that’s going to be uncomfortable.”
He deliberately walked around her, letting her see the leather paddle he held in his hands before he stopped by her right hip, then slid the flat surface over the curve of her ass in a placid, teasing caress.
“What are you going to do?” she asked, turning her head to look back at him and biting her lush lower lip.
“I’m going to teach you a lesson,” he said, and tapped the long strip of firm leather against the back of her thigh. “And in the process, I’m going to make your skin burn and your pussy ache. I’m going to make you so needy that you’re going to beg me to let you come.”
“What . . . what kind of lesson?” she asked, arousal already suffusing her voice and flushing her face.
“A lesson about keeping your decision to come back to The Players Club a secret from me.” He smacked her ass with the paddle, hard, and judging by the sharp sound it made as it connected with her bottom, he knew the strike had to have stung her tender flesh.
A shocked gasp ripped from her throat, and her arms and legs jerked against her restraints, but they remained secure. “It wasn’t a secret!”
“You should have told me.” He added two more firm swats for her sass, pinkening her backside and making her moan, long and low.
“I don’t need your permission to come here to the club,” she said stubbornly.
“Wrong answer, sweetheart.” He gave her another three slaps to chastise her for her defiance, her breathing escalating with each erotic blow. “If you need someone to fill your pussy, you’ll come to me, not some other random guy, do you understand?” He followed that up with another sharp smack against her sensitive thighs.
She squirmed and sobbed, and it was a sound of arousal, not distress. “You don’t own me.”
That earned her two more swats that had her arching her back and tossing her head against the sensual pain he knew he was inflicting. “I don’t want to own you.” Despite Declan being gone, Rick knew and accepted that his stepbrother was who she belonged to. Probably always would. “I want to fulfill your desires. And if you need a cock, mine will serve your needs.” He might not ever have Summer’s heart, but he wouldn’t give her over to another man easily. The only one he’d ever willingly surrender her to was Declan.
Her ass was a bright pink and bound to be sore tomorrow, and when he stroked his hand over her bottom, her skin was fever-hot to the touch. His fingers followed the crease in between her spread legs, affirming that her pussy was drenched for him, from the multiple spankings. He rubbed her swollen clit, and she moaned and tried to push back against his hand.
“Rick . . . please,” she begged, her words filled with desperation.
He smiled to himself as he pushed two fingers deep inside her channel, his cock throbbing with the thought of being buried there and surrounded by her wet heat. “Please, what, sweetheart?”
“Please let me come.” The plea was genuine, as was her body’s need for release, and he knew it was about to get a whole lot more intense.
Despite her whimper of protest, he moved away from Summer for a moment to remove his boxer briefs, put on a condom, and retrieve the toy that was going to give her more orgasms than she could handle. He situated himself behind her, and with the head of his shaft lined up against her opening, he pushed all the way inside her in one ruthless, demanding thrust, groaning as her body tightened around his cock.
Unable to move, she made a frustrated mewling sound. Knowing exactly what she needed, he laid his body over hers from behind and reached one hand around to place the stimulator right over her clitoris. As soon as he flipped the switch on, the toy began vibrating while the little suction device latched on to that taut bud of flesh, creating a pressure and friction that was equivalent to a mouth pulling voraciously on her clit.
He’d just begun moving inside Summer from behind when she started to shake and quiver and cry out as the first orgasm crashed through her. He barely gave her time to catch her breath before he was driving her toward another climax with the pulsating toy. Gritting his teeth against his own release, Rick slid his free hand beneath her chin and tipped her head back so he could look into her eyes and watch her face as she came a second time.
This time she screamed as she convulsed around his dick, and with her body his to command, he ruthlessly pushed her toward a third that had her eyes rolling back in her head and, he suspected, with subspace one more orgasm away.
“No more,” she panted, her eyes hazing over. Ecstasy suffused her features, her body soft and lax beneath his.
“Not your decision to make,” he rasped against her cheek and mercilessly pressed the vibrating, pulsing device tighter to her clit while he began fucking her in deep, hard, driving strokes. “One more time, sweetheart.” He wanted her wrung out and utterly sated.
He didn’t give her a choice but to obey, and her next climax was so intense, so enormous, she screamed until her voice went hoarse. He gritted his teeth as those rippling sensations gripped his cock, milking him in hard, long pulses that burst the dam of his own self-control and sent him right over the edge with her. He shouted, shuddered, and buried himself as deep as he could get inside the tight grasp of her body.
Pleasure seared in his gut, the heat so combustive it burned him up with brutal satisfaction as he emptied himself inside her . . . making Summer his, at least for this one night.
Chapter Thirteen
Summer placed her favorite paperbacks into a box, along with the very few mementos she had from her grandmother. She picked up a picture frame and smiled at the selfie she’d taken of Mimi and herself one day when they’d spent the afternoon at the beach together, just a few months before she passed away.
Melancholy trickled through her as she continued to pack up her things, trying to spend her Sunday afternoon being productive, at least, so she’d be ready to move when she found a place. There were boxes strewn around the studio apartment, some still open and a few taped shut and marked with their contents. Overall, she didn’t have a whole lot, but it still took time to get everything loaded up.
Her stomach growled, and realizing it was way past lunchtime, she took a break and made herself a plate of mea
t, cheese, and fruit to snack on. She sat down on one of the hardwood chairs at her small table, then immediately popped right back up with a groan, forgetting how incredibly tender and sore her bottom still was from Rick’s punishment last night. So, she took her plate to her Murphy bed and sat on the mattress instead, which offered a bit more cushion.
Another reason she’d spent the day packing was to keep busy so she didn’t overthink what had happened at The Players Club last night. But as she took a bite of cheese wrapped in a slice of turkey, those memories came flooding back—starting with Rick intercepting Mitchell as they’d walked out of the lounge together. Up to that point, she’d had mixed feelings about playing with the other man, who she didn’t know at all, but she’d been determined to try. However, deep inside, she’d been relieved by Rick’s intervention, even if she’d been defiant about his possessive demeanor.
But when it came right down to it, Rick was familiar. A man she’d already been intimate with and trusted, which had allowed her to give in to that mental retreat she’d needed so badly. He’d delivered equal parts pain and pleasure and orgasms so intense that she’d been overwhelmed by an influx of adrenaline and endorphins, along with a feeling of unending bliss that had been a lovely escape from the heartache she’d endured for months.
But in the aftermath, when Rick had taken off her restraints and carried her to the nearby bed after her three mind-blowing orgasms had wiped her out, that euphoric floating feeling had gradually dissipated, leaving behind a different, unexpected cache of emotions that seemed to crash over her like a tidal wave.
Cuddled up against Rick on his lap with him soothing her with gentle caresses as she came down from her high, she’d abruptly burst into tears in uncontrollable, embarrassing sobs that felt ripped from the depths of her soul. She bawled against his chest until her throat felt raw, she was gasping for breath, and she had snot bubbles coming from her nose—which Rick gave her a few tissues for.