DARK ANGEL'S SEDUCTION

by I. T. Lucas

  “It’s a soap opera. Miri is waiting for Donnie outside because she likes him, but he likes Fran. He was hiding inside under the pretense of waiting for you to make sure I had an escort, hoping she’d give up and go home.”

  They stepped out into the cool night. Callie huddled closer to Brundar. It was a little windy, and her light jacket didn’t offer enough protection.

  He wrapped his arm around her and held her tight against his side. “You’re cold. We should take my car.”

  “I like to walk home. It's soothing after the hustle and bustle of the nightclub. Helps me sleep better.”

  He frowned as he looked down at her. “You have trouble sleeping?”

  “Sometimes. I have nightmares about Shawn finding me and threatening to kill me.” She couldn’t tell him about the other types of dreams that had been keeping her awake.

  “Would you feel better if I slept by your side?”

  Wow. That was such an unexpected and wonderful offer. “Of course. But what about your night rotation?”

  “It’s every other day. I can come in the morning after my shift ends.”

  She stopped and turned her face up to him. “That would be amazing. I hate sleeping alone.”

  He grimaced, and she immediately regretted her words. The only other person she had slept with had been her husband and the number one threat to her life. Sleeping with him hadn’t felt safe in a long time.

  “Perhaps you should get a dog. A big one.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. But what about the times when I’m at work? Who is going to take care of it?”

  “True. I hadn’t thought of that.” He wrapped his arm around her waist as they kept walking.

  “I can get a cat. They don’t need as much company.”

  “A cat is no protection.”

  “I don’t even know if pets are allowed in the building.” Brundar should know. She was certain that he’d rented the place and not his imaginary friend, and it still bothered her that he’d lied. But she didn’t want to confront him about it. Their relationship was too tenuous to withstand a big blow up over a lie that was rooted in good intentions.

  The problem was that it sat like a nasty sediment at the pit of her stomach. If she could somehow get Brundar to confess and explain why he’d done it, she could get rid of that bad feeling.

  “Did your friend have a pet?”

  “What friend?”

  “The professor. The one who’s teaching abroad. By the way, you never told me which university he’s teaching at. Or even in what country.”

  Brundar shrugged. “I don’t know. I can ask the manager if pets are allowed. Did you see any of your neighbors walking a dog?”

  “No. The only neighbor I talked to was the lady in the apartment right next to me.”

  Brundar frowned. “I thought she was always traveling.”

  “She is. But she came back, and we had lunch together.”

  Callie was watching Brundar’s expression closely. The changes were so minute, it was easy to miss them. Except, she’d learned to pay attention. Brundar might be a closed book to everyone else, but not to her.

  There was the slight tightness of his jaw, the crease on his forehead, and sometimes, she caught his eyes glowing. Or at least they seemed to when he got angry or sexed up.

  “Did you like her?”

  “I did. She knows your friend. The professor. But she is convinced he moved out and is teaching somewhere else in the States. Not abroad.”

  Brundar stopped walking and put both hands on Callie’s waist. “She must be mistaken.”

  Pulling her against his body, he kissed her, his lips smashing over hers, his tongue slipping inside her mouth without preamble, taking, possessing as he backed her against a block wall fence.

  She knew what he was doing, but his distraction tactic was working. His aggression turned her on, making her feel boneless, needy, hungry.

  When his palm closed over her breast and kneaded, the neighbor and the lie suddenly seemed unimportant.

  “Brundar,” she breathed.

  Pressing his hard length against her, he pushed his hand under her club T-shirt and tweaked her nipple through her bra. Hard. “Let’s go back to the club and play. Everyone has left already.” His words came out sounding like a hiss—as if he was in pain.

  Brundar was in a dangerous mood tonight, and Callie knew that whatever he was planning to do to her, he wasn’t going to be gentle and it turned her on even more.

  “Okay,” Callie whispered.

  She was more than ready to play.

  CHAPTER 34: BRUNDAR

  Calypso’s heartbeat had been drumming a rapid beat throughout their short walk back to the club. It accelerated as Brundar opened the door to his favorite playroom, the one he’d taken her to their first time together.

  “Do you think they had time to clean it up already?” Her voice shook a little.

  Some of it was nervousness; most of it was excitement. His girl was in the mood for something darker. She was eager to play.

  Good, because so was he. Typically, he didn’t care one way or another. As long as his basic requirements were met, he was game for most kinds of play, but it was more like willing to eat a treat than craving it.

  Tonight he was craving it.

  Because it was Calypso, and because she’d pushed him to his limit and he needed to assert his dominance over this feisty female who was trying to turn him into someone he was not.

  In here he was the teacher, and she was the pupil. He instructed, and she obeyed. The beauty of it was that he wasn’t going to hear any arguments from her. On this subject, they were in agreement.

  In here she accepted his authority without question.

  In her bedroom, he’d let the boundaries slip.

  It wasn’t working for him. He had caved, wanting to satisfy her need for intimacy, but he could provide it after the scene was over and the sexual energy released, when he was no longer sporting two-inch-long fangs and glowing eyes and could let her see him.

  “The room was cleaned. It’s on the chart outside the room.”

  “That’s smart,” she mumbled, eyeing the equipment. Now that she knew what it was for, it must’ve looked more ominous to her.

  “Strip,” Brundar commanded, watching Calypso’s eyes widen.

  He hadn’t used that tone on her before because she’d been a newbie, and he’d thought she was fragile and vulnerable. He’d learned since that Calypso was neither. She was a fighter, she didn't cower, she plotted and schemed, and she got her way one way or another.

  Not tonight. Not in this room.

  The only say she had about what was going to happen was either submit or abort by safe-wording out of the play.

  Leaning against the door, Brundar crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

  Unmoving, Calypso stared right back at him.

  He wasn’t going to repeat his command. He wasn’t going to do anything until she obeyed. He had the patience of a sequoia tree.

  The standoff didn’t last long. With a slight nod, Calypso walked over to one of the nightstands and put her purse down, then gripped the bottom of her T-shirt and yanked it over her head.

  Watching her strip, the smile tugging on his lips made keeping up the stern expression difficult.

  Calypso was obeying him, but in the most defiant, non-submissive way possible, while at the same time careful not to cross the line into giving him an excuse to punish her.

  Although baring her body to him was arousing no matter how it was done, she wasn’t making the slightest effort to make it a sexy striptease. Undressing unceremoniously as if she was about to step into the shower, she didn’t let her eyes leave his for a moment.

  The woman was a force to be reckoned with.

  When she was bare, she mimicked his stance, crossing her arms over her breasts in a futile effort to hide them from his eyes.

  “Arms by your sides, Calypso.”

  She closed her eyes for a couple o
f seconds, then did as he commanded.

  “Get in position on the bench.”

  A hurt look flitted through her beautiful green eyes, tempting him to drop the charade and take her into his arms. But a moment later, it was gone and she tilted her chin, straightened her back, and walked over to the bench.

  When she got in position, he walked over to her, pulled her hair to one side and kissed her exposed neck. “Good girl,” he said in a soothing tone as his palm traveled down her back, caressing her incredibly smooth skin, then kneading her taut buttocks.

  With a sigh, she relaxed the tension in her shoulders.

  “How come your palms are not calloused?” Calypso blurted out of the blue.

  His hand stilled on her body. No woman had asked him that even though he’d listed fencing as his main hobby on the questionnaire. No one had ever wondered how come his hands were smooth despite supposedly playing a sport that was known to produce callouses. No one had paid enough attention, or cared.

  Damnation.

  Two things were obvious. One—the woman was dangerous if she was so observant. Two—he was doing something wrong if this was what she was thinking of during play.

  “I use gloves.” A lie, but the alternative was some bullshit about a hand moisturizer. Not very manly. Especially given where they were, and what they were doing.

  He delivered a hard smack to her butt. “No more talking.”

  “Not even please more, or this is so good?”

  Impudent girl.

  He delivered another smack, then leaned against her back. “That’s allowed. But no more questions. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  To her credit, Calypso stayed in position not looking back or reaching to rub her stinging ass even though he hadn’t restrained her yet. Something he was about to remedy right away.

  It took him less than a minute to have her secure to the bench, the blindfold going on last. He didn’t ask if she was okay. By now he knew Calypso wouldn’t hesitate to tell him if anything felt uncomfortable.

  That was the advantage of playing with a woman who wasn’t a true submissive. Calypso wouldn’t endure excessive discomfort or pain just to please him. A relief. He didn’t have to keep checking and reassessing to make sure she wasn’t suffering. Or rather not suffering more than she wanted to.

  In that regard, she was the perfect playmate for him. Hell, in every regard.

  She took to bondage like a pro. As soon as he’d fastened the last restraint, she relaxed into the bonds holding her body, and as soon as he’d finished tying the silk scarf around her eyes, she uttered a content sigh.

  Beautiful.

  Brundar caressed her back, kissing one side of her neck down to her shoulder then moving to the other side.

  Calypso purred like a kitten, and when he cupped her butt cheeks and kneaded the warmed up flesh, she laid her head back on his shoulder and purred even louder.

  A little mewl of protest left her throat when he stopped touching her to pull his T-shirt over his head and toss it behind him. But when he leaned over her back, covering it with his bare chest, she once again let her head drop back on his shoulder and sighed.

  The contraption she was strapped to supported her front only up to her breasts. There was an extension he could’ve pulled up, a narrow beam that went between the breasts and terminated in a padded chin support, but he didn’t think Calypso would have liked it even though it would’ve made her more comfortable. The strap that went around the neck would’ve prevented her from leaning her head back on his shoulder.

  Besides, it required a level of submission he didn’t think she had in her.

  Palming her breasts, he rubbed his erection against her soft bottom, regretting that he hadn’t shucked his pants along with the T-shirt.

  For a few moments, he was gentle, kneading and stroking, thumbing her nipples, stoking her need and her hunger for something spicier.

  CHAPTER 35: CALLIE

  Callie was on fire.

  His rhythm unpredictable, Brundar moved from drawing lazy circles around her areolas to plucking at her nipples, then pinching, then gently stroking again. She never knew what would come next, a zing of pain or a soft caress.

  Everything about tonight felt different.

  Brundar was different, and yet the same. Not as careful or gentle as before, his touch rougher and more demanding, he was nevertheless in full control of his emotions. It was still about her pleasure, Callie didn’t doubt that for a moment, but he was upping the ante and testing her limits.

  Apparently, he’d been right. Painting the experience a shade darker was pushing all of her buttons.

  Bound and blindfolded with Brundar’s hard length rubbing against her bottom, her whole body singing to the tune of his torment, she was on the brink of orgasm before he even touched between her legs.

  “Please,” she groaned.

  As his grip on her stiff nipples tightened, she pushed forward to escape the rough treatment, but the restraints allowed her no more than an inch of wiggle room.

  The realization that she was at Brundar’s mercy finally hit home.

  Until tonight, he’d been holding back, his treatment of her more gentle than what she would’ve liked. Even the spanking had been more playful than painful. This was different. He was pushing her boundaries, testing her willingness to submit.

  It should have scared her, but it didn’t.

  With a throaty moan, she relaxed into the pain, trusting that Brundar’s cruel touch was a means to an end. It wasn’t about inflicting pain for pain’s sake, it was about helping her unlock a place inside herself for which this was the only key.

  Pulling a shocked gasp out of her throat, his grip tightened.

  The buildup was more of a leap than a gradual climb. Before she was done processing the confusing messages her body and her mind were sending, Callie snapped, lights exploding behind her closed eyes and her mouth opening on a scream.

  If not for Brundar’s body pressing against her back and the bonds that were holding her up, the force of the climax would’ve brought her down to her knees.

  As bliss slowly receded, she registered Brundar’s warm palms cupping her breasts, soothing, and his muscular chest glued to her sweaty back. He was unbuckling the restraint on her left wrist, then moved to the right.

  Disappointed, Callie whispered, “Are we done?”

  A few moments to recuperate were desperately needed, but she didn’t want their play to be over yet. As tired as she was, Callie had another climax or two in her.

  “Not by a long shot.” His warm chest abandoned her back as he bent to tackle the restraints holding her thighs spread wide. When he was done with those, he moved to the ones strapping her calves to the lower supports.

  “That’s good to know.” Despite the incredible release, she was still craving a spanking, and the tiny sting from the two smacks he’d delivered before was long gone.

  The blindfold remained as Brundar lifted her into his arms, cradling her to his chest and carrying her to the bed. It felt amazing to be held like that. Like she was precious, and he didn’t want to let go.

  She refused to dwell on the fact that Brundar didn’t have feelings like that. He was holding her tight only because her body was so limp that he was afraid she would fall. The rest was the product of wishful thinking and her imagination.

  Laying her on the bed, Brundar’s palm tenderly cradled the entire back of her head. His lips were soft and warm as he kissed her, his tongue parting hers and gaining access without waiting for her permission.

  It seemed that he was done asking.

  Callie had thought it was his style, but apparently, he’d only been testing her and learning her responses until he had her figured out.

  She liked that he was letting the dominant in him take over. It added a level of excitement to their play. As long as he dropped the autocratic attitude outside the bedroom, she was perfectly fine with being his willing subject in here.

&nbs
p; Guiding her arms over her head, he once again restrained her hands with the soft Velcro ties. This time, though, he didn’t tie each one individually to an opposite corner of the headboard. He bound her hands together and tethered them to a central post.

  Her legs were left unbound.

  Was he going to flip her around on her tummy? Maybe she would still get the spanking she’d been craving?

  Just imagining that wrested a moan from her throat, and new moisture seeped from her still untouched core.

  “Brundar?”

  She heard him kick off his boots and unbuckle his jeans.

  “What is it, sweetling?”

  “I need you.”

  “I’m right here.” He climbed on the bed. Lying on his side, his hand slowly caressed her from collarbone to hip as if there was no urgency, but his ragged breathing told a different story. It was amazing how much could be discerned from sound, smell, and touch when sight was not available.

  Even if the evidence of his arousal weren’t pulsing against her thigh, Brundar’s labored breathing told her everything she needed to know. The guy was in such incredible shape that he could run a marathon and his breaths would come out as calm and as even as if he were taking a casual stroll.

  He was turned on. Big time.

  Callie smiled. Brundar could huff, and he could puff, but the real big bad wolf in this bed was her. Well, not really, but they could take turns.

  “What’s that smile about, beautiful?”

  With his palm circling from her hip to her stomach and traveling south, so close to where she needed him, it was hard to formulate words.

  “Touch me,” she commanded.

  His hand halted. “Who is in charge in here, sweetling?”

  His stern tone had woken a flurry of butterflies in her stomach.

  Damn it. She didn’t like these kinds of games.

  Or did she?

  Hadn’t he told her that this was all about her? And that ultimately she was the one in charge?

  One word from her could stop everything. She could use a safe word, while Brundar couldn’t.

  She needed to remember, though, that her pleasure depended on keeping her head in the game and not in the real world. Out there, Callie would have never tolerated him talking to her like that. But this was not the real world. It was a fantasy. The rules were whatever they wanted them to be for this particular game. Other games would have different ones.