by Jasmine Hill
She stepped away from him and immediately he mourned her proximity. He had to get a hold of himself. This girl was driving him crazy, making him feel and do things that were previously foreign to him. He shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. “We have to talk,” he eventually said. “I need to explain some things.”
She eyed him coldly, her expression sending another jab of fear through him
“It’s late and I’m tired,” she murmured, walking into the bedroom.
“Tomorrow then,” he persisted. “You’re killing me here, baby. Please give me an indication of what you’re thinking.”
She turned to face him. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do. I do know that it’s too late right now to leave and I have to sleep on some things. I need to be alone at the moment.”
“Fuck,” he cursed quietly, shoving both hands through his hair and yanking.
“Can you let me sleep in here alone?” she asked, indicating the bedroom.
“Of course.” He nodded stiffly and stepped backward over the threshold.
The soft click of the latch could have been a door slamming in his face, for all the finality it implied. He stared around the luxurious combined dining-sitting room, his gaze landing on all the finery but taking nothing in. Finally, he dragged one of the dining room chairs over and positioned it in front of the bedroom door. He couldn’t afford to fall asleep and have her leave without him noticing. His relief at finding her still at the hotel was fast diminishing under her impenetrable demeanor.
He looked at his watch—two a.m. He’d sit and wait until morning, keeping guard at the bedroom door, then he’d make her listen to him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
When Makayla woke, the events of the previous evening bombarded her brain and sent questions ricocheting around her head.
She’d slept fitfully, finally deciding in the early hours that she’d listen to what Donovan had to say. She owed him that much, she supposed, and truth be told, she needed to know.
She showered and changed into a soft floral summer dress with shoestring straps and a fitted bodice that lifted her bust and hugged her torso, the skirt flaring softly at her hips. It looked feminine and pretty—she hadn’t worn it before and it gave her the confidence that she needed to face the morning ahead.
She piled her hair atop her head in a messy bun and applied some light makeup, dusting her lids with a soft shade of mauve to highlight her violet eyes. She knew Donovan loved her eyes and she was determined to make herself look desirable to him. The events of the previous evening had left her feeling insecure and apprehensive and she needed everything in her feminine arsenal to combat the emotions.
She took a deep breath and went to open the bedroom door—it wouldn’t budge. What the fuck? She rarely swore but this situation warranted it. Had Donovan locked her in?
She rattled the doorknob. It turned, but something was stopping the door from opening. Suddenly, it swung outward to reveal Donovan standing on the other side wearing cargo shorts and a fitted navy T-shirt that molded to his sculpted chest. His hair was wet from a recent shower and the smell of soap and spicy aftershave wafted around him.
“Did you lock me in?” she demanded incredulously.
“Not exactly,” he responded, his expression unreadable.
She cocked an eyebrow in inquiry.
“I jammed the door with a chair and that armoire,” he explained, indicating a small chest of drawers. “I needed to go to the gym to work off some steam and I didn’t want you leaving.”
She gaped at him. “What if there had been a fire?”
“I thought of that, angel. There’s no way I would ever put you in danger. I had one of the hotel staff posted at the door until I returned.”
Makayla wondered what they must have thought about that arrangement, but no doubt, Donovan had paid the person well to keep their silence and their thoughts to themselves.
She watched him warily as he took a step toward her. The raw hunger in his eyes as his gazed traveled the length of her body took her breath away. Talking to him was going to be harder than she’d anticipated when he looked at her like that.
“You’re beautiful,” he said huskily, extending an arm toward her, his hand outstretched for her to take. But she just gazed at him, not yet willing to allow him to touch her. She was afraid that if she made contact with him her resolve would crumble.
“Please, Makayla,” he pleaded. “I need to touch you.”
“Let’s just talk for the moment. I have some questions.”
He sighed and dropped his arm to his side. “Of course. I had José deliver breakfast.” He indicated the dining room table, spread with a delicious array of pastries.
She took a seat. Donovan sat opposite, studying her warily and pouring them each juice and coffee.
Makayla inhaled deeply. “Why did you hide”—she paused, trying to find the right word—“your pastime from me?”
He leaned back in his chair and gave her a serious look. “I didn’t want to expose you to that world—to my world. You’re so pure and innocent. You don’t belong there. Also, I was worried that you’d run. That you’d think me obscene and immoral.” He laughed grimly. “I virtually had to tie you down to stop you from running away from me, so I wasn’t too far off the mark there.” He sighed. “How did you find me?”
She blushed and stared into her lap. “I followed you. I didn’t believe your explanations for all these late-night meetings.”
Donovan nodded. “I should have realized that you’d be suspicious. You have to try to understand, Makayla, it’s an outlet for me, as well as many other things.”
She looked up from her lap, curious to know just what it was about the BDSM lifestyle that drew Donovan. “Why?” she asked simply.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to explain, but it’s very much about self-control and my ability to control others, to read the submissive’s desires and needs, and to react to those needs responsibly and knowledgeably. To question and predict what they need from me next. I have a dominant personality, Makayla. You should have realized that by now. Managing my self-discipline is very important to me.” He seemed pained. “Although I have to question my ability since you’ve come into my life. You’re the one person who can send me adrift. I have to work harder to retain control, which is at once heady and exhilarating in its challenge, and beyond fucking frustrating.”
She frowned. “I don’t understand how I can do that to you. How do I affect your self-control?”
He gave her an incredulous stare. “Holding onto my willpower where you’re concerned has been a struggle, to say the least. For Christ’s sake, Makayla, I can’t stand another man even looking at you, let alone talking to you. It makes me feel crazy, violently so, knowing that they want what’s mine. I’ve never felt this way before and I’m worried that my self-control will suffer because of it.” He laughed bitterly. “This is unfamiliar territory and it infuriates the fuck out of me. I’ve needed the release and the validation that I find at Infierno. I’ve needed to prove to myself that I haven’t lost the edge, that I’m still the master of restraint.”
Makayla didn’t know what to say, dismayed that she could make him feel that way. “I’m sorry,” was all she could manage.
“Don’t apologize, baby. It’s something that I need to deal with. It’s my problem.”
She studied him across the table, formulating her next question. “I know a little about the BDSM lifestyle. Sometimes that control and the D/s dynamic involve a sexual release.” She gazed down at the table, hating to ask, but unable to stop herself. “Did you…do that with the submissive?”
When he remained silent, she peeked up at him. He stared at her, a frown crossing his features. “I didn’t realize that you knew anything about BDSM. Are you holding back on me, angel?” His eyes glinted dangerously. “And you’d better not tell me that you’ve experienced anything first-hand because I’ll be needing some answers.”
He breathed a sigh of relief, his body visibly relaxing. “Well, you have been busy,” he murmured and gave her a level look. “To answer your question, it doesn’t always involve sex and no, I haven’t touched anyone else sexually since I met you. You have to believe me. In fact, I’m not interested in anyone else like that—at all.”
Makayla believed him. Fernando had intimated as much, telling her not to think the worst about what she’d seen. Also, if Donovan’s sexual frustration after returning from his stints at Infierno were anything to go by, he definitely hadn’t been dabbling.
“Did you in the past?”
“Yes. In the past a BDSM scene for me always involved consensual sex.”
A sick feeling swept through her at the thought of Donovan with so many women, and the things he must have done with those women. She shook her head to rid herself of the images.
“Why do they call you the King of Infierno?”
He shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable suddenly. “It’s a play on my name, I guess, and I’ve been in the scene for a long time. Others in the scene like to…observe my techniques, learn from me.” He shrugged. “At the risk of sounding egotistical, I’m a good Dominant. Submissives want me to train them, to nurture them. I suppose you could say that I’m sought after.” He chuckled grimly. “It’s not a moniker that I encourage, or even wanted. It just happened.”
She took a sip of coffee, tepid after sitting for so long, and traced an invisible pattern on the tabletop, not wanting to meet Donovan’s eyes when she asked her next question. “Do you think I’d make a good submissive?”
He was silent for a long moment as she continued to avoid his gaze.
“Yes,” he eventually said, his voice low and husky. “You’d make a perfect submissive.”
She felt his gaze burning into her and she lifted her head. His eyes, swimming with lust and desire, bore into hers, even as he shook his head. “But you won’t ever be involved in that lifestyle, so stop asking these questions.”
A flare of anger shot through her at his words. What was so wrong with her? “Then I’ve made my decision. I want to leave here now. I want to go home.”
“What? Why would you say that? I’ve answered your questions truthfully. Do you want me to promise never to go to a BDSM club again? To wipe all of that out of my life?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s part of who you are.”
“Well, what then? What do you want me to do, Makayla? Because I’ll do it, I won’t lose you.”
“I hated seeing you with that woman,” she said, her voice shaking with emotion. “I was so jealous of her.”
Donovan shot her an incredulous look. “Why would you be jealous of her? I hate that you saw that part of me. That was not for your eyes.”
She huffed in exasperation. “I’m not some naïve little girl, Donovan. What are you trying to protect me from?”
“From me,” he said simply. “From that lifestyle. I don’t want your innocence influenced by it.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You have to stop thinking of me like that. What if I told you that I want to be a part of it?”
He drew his breath in sharply. “That’s not a good idea, Makayla.”
She lifted her chin in defiance. “It’s my decision.” She knew her next words would hit him where he was most vulnerable. “If you won’t help me, perhaps someone else will.”
He growled low in his throat, the sound so threatening that it sent a shiver of fear rippling through her.
“Don’t even fucking joke about that,” he said dangerously. “You know that I can’t abide the thought of anyone else touching you, let alone dominating you. It’s not fucking happening, Makayla.”
“Then you’ll give me what I want.” She knew that she was poking the proverbial bear, but it was the only way she could think of to make him see things her way.
He shook his head. “And you’re supposed to be submissive?” he asked. “Submissives don’t generally make the demands, angel. They do what they’re told. They hold the power but they don’t make the decisions.”
“Will you train me?” she asked quietly. “To be a submissive?”
He stood suddenly and was in front of her in two strides, pulling her up from her chair and into his arms. He cupped the cheeks of her ass and tugged her into him, bending his knees to reach where he needed to grind his hard cock into her pelvis, sending little shock waves to her core. He dipped his head and brushed his lips across hers, speaking directly against her mouth.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined dominating you, how I’ve thought about you submitting to me entirely, having you totally under my control.” As he spoke, his cock grew harder, responding to his words and throbbing between them, hot and insistent. “I’ve craved that from you, but at the same time, I’ve kicked myself for thinking it of you at all.” He swept his mouth across hers, slowly and sensually. “I don’t want to spoil you. You’re my beautiful angel, my pure sweet girl. Tell me why you want it,” he demanded softly.
She moaned into his mouth and threw her arms around his neck. He picked her up, her legs dangling off the floor, and gripped her behind to nestle his cock more precisely and firmly against her soft core. His words and the insistent throbbing of his erection made it impossible for her to think straight through her lust for him.
“Answer me, baby,” he murmured against her lips, rubbing delicious little circles with his pelvis.
“I want to give up control. I don’t want to make the decisions anymore,” she mumbled dreamily. “I saw those submissives online, giving control to a Dominant. Letting the Dominant take the lead and make the choices.” She paused, allowing him to massage her lips more forcefully with his own. “It made me…hot,” she finished breathlessly.
He groaned and took her in a deep, passionate kiss and forced her legs around his waist, pulling her down to press against his cock, hitting her center perfectly.
“Please, Donovan,” she begged.
“First lesson, angel,” he said. “You don’t call the shots anymore.” He ground more forcefully against her. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Yes,” she panted, squirming and trying desperately to hit that spot.
“Stop wriggling. I’m going to take you now. We won’t be doing anything else until we discuss your training further.”
He walked them to the bedroom, where he lowered them both to the bed. He dragged her dress up to her waist, exposing her pink lace G-string.
“Now I’m going to taste you,” he breathed into her flesh as he kissed his way down her belly.
Makayla held her breath, waiting anxiously, then suddenly he was there, running his index finger along her slit through the satin of her panties. She bucked beneath him.
“I can tell that you’re wet for me,” he muttered, his breath hot against the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. “Your panties are damp with your arousal.”
She moaned and opened her legs wider, inviting more from him.
He slipped his finger under the elastic of her G-string and rubbed circles along her folds, spreading her moisture around and locating her clit. Tremors of pleasure shot through her as he fondled the little bundle of nerves. He plunged two fingers inside her and pushed high and deep, forcing her to bow off the bed.
“Donovan,” she cried out, quivers wracking her body as he massaged her G-spot.
He withdrew his fingers slowly, smirking as he lifted them to his lips and sucked. “Hmm, you taste divine. My favorite flavor. Take off your dress and panties,” he ordered, his voice a low rumble.
She hurried to do his bidding and quickly stripped down to nothing. Donovan did the same, toeing off his Vans and shrugging out of his shorts, boxer briefs and T-shirt until he was standing gloriously naked in front of her.
“We’re going to try something different,” he exp
lained, climbing onto the bed and lying on his back. “I want you to straddle me. Sit on my face, this way.” He grasped her hips and positioned her on top of him. “Now sit.”
It was a vulnerable position, but she swallowed her nerves and did as he asked, lowering herself gingerly to his face. She moaned when she felt his mouth collide with her pussy and his tongue delve deeply into her channel.
“Oh, fuck,” she grunted. The sensation was overwhelming and so different. She sat facing his hard cock, the crown swollen and purple, beads of milky liquid oozing from his tip. She leaned forward and grasped his shaft, making him buck beneath her. She licked the tip, lapping hungrily at his pre-cum and squeezing more out of him.
He groaned into her folds, sending delicious vibrations directly to her core. She trembled, her inner muscles contracting and pulsing as he fucked her with his mouth.
She closed her lips around him and sucked hard, using her fist to pump the root of his cock and relaxing her jaw to take more of him deeper into her throat.
He sucked on her clit and thrust two fingers into her quivering hole. She cried out and ground herself into his face, feeling the pleasure starting to build and tighten within her.
She allowed his cock to slip between her lips and fisted it quickly, using her saliva to lubricate her glide.
“Yes,” she cried. “I’m close!”
He jerked his hips up, a silent request to take him in her mouth once more. She sucked his shaft and slid him deeper, feeling him brush the back of her throat. She stiffened and held her breath, squeezing the root of him and fisting him rapidly.
Then she was there, at the edge of that wonderful abyss, her core quivering and pulsing as she tumbled over the edge and waves of euphoria swept through her, sending her vision hazy and the blood roaring through her ears.
Beneath her, Donovan growled into her pussy and gripped her hips as he pushed himself deeper into her throat and emptied inside her in long, thick bursts.