The King of Infierno

by Jasmine Hill

  He barked a laugh. It was short and sharp and held no humor. “Do you know what Dolores means in Spanish?” He didn’t wait for Makayla to answer. “It means pain. She hates it, of course, and prefers to go by Lola, but the funny thing is, the name fits her to a tee. She enjoys pain, both causing it and receiving it. So to a certain extent, what she said was true. She really didn’t have any hard limits, but you’re mistaken, angel, if you think that’s what I want or even enjoyed.”

  He stepped toward her and grasped her around the waist. “The sort of disregard that Dolores shows for her own wellbeing and the wellbeing of others borders on psychotic. She is spiteful and venomous and I don’t want her anywhere near you.”

  She looked up at him. “Was she the best sub that you ever had?”

  “Perhaps I thought so at one point. I don’t believe that any longer.” Donovan tightened his hold on her. “I believe I have the best sub for me, in my arms, right now.” He nuzzled her neck. “You did very well last night, baby, but I don’t think paddling your ass had the effect that I was after.”

  She frowned. “Is that why you wouldn’t let me come?

  “Yes, you needed to be punished, and when I checked you, you were wet. My beautiful sub likes to have her ass paddled.”

  Makayla melted in his arms, his deep voice washing over her and soothing her taut nerves. “It wasn’t fair,” she whispered. “You left me aching.”

  He swept his mouth across her jaw to brush against her lips lightly. “Did you touch yourself while I slept?”

  His voice was a soft purr, but she detected the undercurrent of danger. What would he do if she said that she had? A shiver of excitement rippled down her spine at the thought of him punishing her some more, but then she thought about his withholding her pleasure from her and her ardor cooled immediately. She didn’t want him to do that again.

  “No, Sir,” she murmured against his lips.

  “Did you want to?”

  “Yes, it was aching.”

  “What was aching, baby?” He’d recommenced nuzzling her neck, sending little sizzles of pleasure directly to her nipples.

  “I was aching deep in my belly,” she breathed.

  “Are you aching, now?”

  “A little. It’s starting again.”

  He hummed against her throat. “We’ll have to do something about that.”

  He loosened her robe and stepped back, leaving her feeling bereft of his touch. She whimpered, but he just ignored her and focused his attention on her nipples, which were lengthening under the weight of his gaze.

  “Perfect.” He reached out and tweaked her nipple, sending a bolt of pleasure deep to her core. He cupped one of her breasts, testing its weight, and palmed the other mound, sweeping the flat of his hand across her erect nipple.

  She moaned and arched into him. “See how swollen your breasts are?” he breathed. “When you’re aroused the blood vessels dilate. It’s beautiful to watch.” He studied her a moment longer then bent to suck a turgid nipple into his hot mouth, swirling his tongue around the erect peak and making her groan. How could she feel that, deep inside? It always amazed her, like she was hardwired from her nipple to her clit.

  He grasped her around the waist, picked her up and laid her out on the lounge. He rearranged her gown, opening it fully, and gripped one of her ankles to drape her leg over the arm of the sofa and widen her thighs.

  He knelt on the floor between her legs and stared at her pussy, licking his lips before taking his index finger and running it so lightly through her folds that she barely felt his touch. He bent his head toward her and inhaled deeply. “You smell so good, angel. Like sex and pheromones.”

  She groaned. That unfulfilled ache from the previous night resurrected itself. She wanted to squeeze her legs together, but she couldn’t, Donovan was in her way. “Please, Sir,” she begged. He was deliberately drawing out her torment—she recognized it now.

  “Control it, Makayla. Learn to enjoy the anticipation, let it work for you. I’m not a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of guy.”

  She breathed deeply and focused her energy on controlling her arousal.

  Again, Donovan drew his finger so softly through her center that it was a feather touch. She thrust her hips up, unable to stop her body’s automatic reach for more. Donovan slapped the side of her thigh and whipped the robe’s belt from around her waist, then, picking her up, he moved her to the open end of the lounge. It never ceased to amaze her that he could carry her so easily and seemingly without effort on his part.

  He positioned her on her back, bent her left leg and tied one end of the belt around that ankle, then he looped it around each of her wrists behind her back before bending her right leg and tying the other end of the belt around her right ankle. She was bound, her hands behind her back and her legs wide, wholly bared and exposed to him and unable to move. Her heart rate accelerated and delicious anticipation trickled down her spine. This was what she liked, giving total control to Donovan, passing him all the decisions so she could relish in his sex god Dom experience.

  Donovan sat back and stared at her. “My baby likes being tied up,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Look at how wet you’ve become just in the last two minutes.” He swept two fingers through her folds and circled her clit.

  She groaned.

  Finally, he bent his head and licked through her center. Oh God, that was what she’d been waiting for. He swiped his tongue up one side of her pussy lips then down the other before plunging it inside. She tried to move, tried to thrust her hips forward to get more friction, but her bound position prevented it. She was immobile and totally at Donovan’s mercy.

  He devoured her thoroughly, swirling his tongue through her folds and jabbing it into her before pulling back and once again licking up either side of her hole, each time avoiding her clit—it was agony and bliss, and it was driving her crazy. She bit her lip to keep from crying out her frustration and deepened her breathing. She knew he was testing her and pushing her limits by deliberately evading the one spot she needed his attention most.

  He drew back and she watched him under heavy lids as he shrugged out of his dress shirt. She licked her lips, running her gaze over his chiseled chest. It was muscular perfection and tanned a golden brown from his morning swim sessions.

  Donovan tossed his shirt aside and lunged forward, grasping both her butt cheeks before closing his mouth over her center and sucking, hard. A cauldron of banked pleasure suddenly bubbled to life deep in her core and she cried out. He nipped her clit then sucked it into his mouth—and that was what she needed to finally send her tumbling over the edge and into an intense orgasm. She shuddered and arched her back, wanting to close her legs but unable to. She throbbed and writhed in place, blinding white hazing her vision.

  “Oh God,” she mumbled drunkenly as Donovan sucked the pulses from her body.

  She hardly registered when he stood and removed the rest of his clothes. Then he was before her gloriously naked, his body hard and powerful and his thick cock rearing up, veined and beautiful, to reach his navel. He fisted his shaft and pumped lazily a couple of times, a thick bead of pre-cum oozing out of his tip. She whimpered and gazed at him hungrily.

  Donovan groaned and pumped his fist harder, milking more pre-cum from his tip. “You look so fucking erotic, tied up like that and at my mercy,” he ground between clenched teeth. “Do you want my cock, baby?”

  She nodded and bit her bottom lip anxiously.

  He angled his head to one side. “I think I’ll fuck your mouth. Now, with my cock in your mouth and with you bound like this, it’s hard to get your safe word across. This is where you have to have the utmost trust in your Dom, and this is where I have to be careful to give you only what I think you can handle. If it does get too difficult for you, I give you permission to do what you have to, to get your point across, if you understand my meaning.” He gave her a piercing look. “This is also obviously where I have to trust in my own instincts if I don�
��t want to end up a very sore man.”

  He positioned himself over her, his knees on either side of her shoulders. “Open up,” he ordered.

  She opened her mouth wide. God, she couldn’t wait to taste him. Then he pushed his hard length between her lips until he was lodged deep inside her mouth, his tip brushing the back of her throat. She relaxed her jaw, breathed through her nose and swallowed, her throat muscles contracting around his crown.

  “Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He stared into her eyes, his heavy lidded and hazed with lust. “You look. So. Fucking. Hot with my cock deep in your throat. Keep your eyes open.”

  He fisted her hair and maneuvered her head back, his gaze boring into hers. He manipulated her head forward until she was once more swallowing his length.

  “That’s it, baby,” he groaned. “Take as much as you can.”

  He withdrew and plunged forward, using her hair to direct her head to where he wanted it. She opened wider and used her tongue to run along his length, swirling it around the sensitive tip.

  “I’m gonna come hard and fast, baby. You’re a fucking natural at this.”

  His breathing had increased and his jaw was tight with the tension of maintaining his control. Sweat dampened his brow and his abdominals rippled deliciously with his lunges. He pumped her mouth harder, his length swelling to impossibly large proportions.

  Makayla fought back her gag reflex and kept her jaw relaxed, reveling in his masculine taste of musk and salt. Pre-cum seeped out of his tip to mix with her saliva and lubricate his glide through her lips.

  His hold on her hair tightened and his movements grew choppy and erratic. She sucked harder, closing her lips around his cock to provide a firm suction and swallowing when his shaft hit the back of her throat.

  Suddenly he threw his head back and growled, gripping her hair until tears formed in her eyes, then he came. He fisted the base of his cock and fed her his cum as she stared into his eyes and swallowed, licking and sucking the head until he was clean.

  “Jesus Christ,” he panted, using his thumb to rub the last of his cum over her lips. “You are fucking incredible at that. I can’t get enough of it.”

  Makayla smiled, pleased that she could provide him with so much pleasure.

  Donovan quickly untied the belt from around her wrists and ankles and sat back on his heels, massaging life back into her limbs. He rubbed her legs languidly, digging his thumbs in and rotating her ankles.

  “Hmm, that feels good,” she murmured sleepily, allowing her eyelids to slide closed.

  “Have you done that before, given a guy head?” Donovan asked, his voice low and unreadable. “You seem to be very talented at it.”

  She snapped her eyes open and looked at him. “Would it matter?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. I guess I’d like to think that you had a virgin mouth before you met me. Stupid, I know, but the thought of you doing that to another guy does my head in.”

  She thought for a moment, trying to formulate her answer.

  Donovan’s gaze hardened. “It’s an easy question, angel—yes or no? Your reticence is making me wonder if you’re hiding something.”

  “I’m not hiding anything. I fooled around a little before I met you. I wasn’t living in a convent.”

  Donovan raised his eyebrows. “Really?” he purred. He crawled up her body and caged her arms by her sides with his, grinding his pelvis into hers. “And what exactly does fooling around entail?” He rubbed his index finger over her lips. “What fucker has been near this mouth? My mouth?”

  She huffed out a breath. “It was just a guy from school. We fooled around a couple of times. Nothing serious.” She rolled her eyes. “And no, he didn’t have his cock near my mouth.” She giggled. “Just in my hand.”

  He grinned and bent his head to brush his lips softly over hers. “That’s all right then,” he said against her mouth. “I guess I can handle that, as long as it never happens again.” He ground his pelvis into hers, circling his hips deliciously and giving a little jab to her soft center. Hard again, his cock thick and throbbing, he slid it between the lips of her pussy.

  “I’m going to take you now,” he mumbled, slipping his tongue into her mouth at the same time as he thrust his cock high and deep into her hungry channel.

  She groaned and arched her back, accepting his solid shaft and reveling in the stretch and the feeling of fullness.

  Donovan slipped a hand between them and massaged her clit, pressing down with his thumb as he swept his tongue through her mouth.

  “Argh,” she moaned and writhed beneath him, little tingles of pleasure zapping through her nerve endings.

  He dropped his other hand to her ass and used her gathering moisture to lubricate her asshole. He pushed a finger in, knuckle deep, and the increase in pressure was extraordinary.

  “I can feel my cock through your pussy,” he groaned into her ear, pushing a second finger into her and stretching her hole further.

  She grunted as pleasure overwhelmed her and held her breath, allowing her orgasm to take hold and rip through her, pulsating her insides with throbbing convulsions.

  “Makayla,” Donovan roared and followed her over, shoving into her forcefully and gripping her body tightly to his.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  When Makayla awoke the following morning, Donovan was gone. She recalled him murmuring to her, his lips soft against her ear as he explained about an early breakfast meeting and conference call with the bank. She’d been half asleep and had just snuggled deeper into the plush sheets, grunting a reply.

  Now she was getting ready to go to the spa. She’d spent an hour after breakfast doodling some new designs in the sketchpad that she’d brought with her. She’d purchased a new set of design pencils, anxious to get started on some ideas that she’d had since she’d been in Madrid, the European city having inspired in her a range of new and exciting ideas. Since her time in Madrid, she’d decided that she wanted to re-enroll in design school. The issues with her mother, she was confident, could be sorted out. Donovan and her mother were right, she couldn’t spend the rest of her life worrying about what might happen to her mum. Makayla had to get on with things, had to work on her chosen career. After she’d packed her sketchpad and pencils away, she’d gone downstairs and bought a gift for Donovan that she’d seen in the jewelers’ the previous day. She hoped he liked the present. He’d done so much for her and she wanted him to know that she appreciated him, and particularly appreciated what he’d done for her mother.

  She tied her hair into a topknot and shrugged into a hotel gown before leaving their suite and heading down to the spa.

  She exited the elevator at the second floor and gazed from the floor-to-ceiling windows into the grand foyer below. Guests milled about chatting and taking coffee and pastries at the tables scattered around the large space. Businessmen rushed through with mobiles at their ears and briefcases at their sides, and a group of elegantly clad women stopped in the middle of the foyer to hand their many shopping bags to a harried bellhop. Then Donovan stalked into her line of vision. He’d been jogging, his tanned, muscular chest bare and beaded with perspiration, his running shirt tucked into the waistband of his shorts. He must have come back to the hotel to change while she was busy at the jewelers’. As he strolled quickly through the lobby, people stopped and stared. He had that effect on women and men alike. He was a dominant and commanding presence, oozing confidence and sophistication. From her vantage point above him, Makayla could truly appreciate the powerful masculinity that was Donovan. Her heart stuttered and that light fluttering started up in her belly.

  The group of women shoppers ogled him, licking their lips and narrowing their eyes in predatory intent, their eyes widening when they spotted the eagle scarred into his back. Makayla knew what they were thinking. Donovan’s blatant masculinity combined with the dangerous element of his scarification had no doubt made them all wet with longing. She scowled at them, a fierce feeling of possessive jealousy tw
isting her insides. She understood what Donovan meant when he talked about being driven crazy by thoughts of her with someone else, even hating other men looking at her with hunger in their eyes. She sighed in resignation, turned away from the window and entered the treatment rooms behind her.

  “Welcome, Miss Carrington,” a young woman greeted her. “Mr. Martínez has instructed that we are to provide you with any service that you wish. Totally complimentary, of course.”

  Makayla faltered, taken aback by Fernando’s generosity. Other than the Brazilian wax, she had no idea what the spa offered.

  “I’ve taken the liberty of organizing a treatment package for you,” the woman continued. “You’ll be having your wax, but I’ve also scheduled you for a Turkish bath, an aromatherapy massage and a hydration facial.” She smiled. “I hope this is to your liking?”

  “Yes. Thank you very much.”

  The young woman handed her some paperwork, asked her to complete the forms and said that she would return for her in a few minutes.

  Makayla settled into a soft armchair. The scents of herbal oil and sandalwood hung thick in the air, and relaxing music filtered into the room through hidden speakers. It was a calming and soothing environment and she was looking forward to spending the next few hours being pampered in her very first spa treatment.

  * * * *

  Donovan flung his clothes off and stepped into the shower. He didn’t know where Makayla was. She hadn’t mentioned anything about going anywhere, but when he’d left earlier, she had still been half asleep. She’d probably gone out for a walk or to do some shopping, or she could be at the pool.

  He soaped up and washed his hair quickly, eager to finish up and find his little submissive, his angel. It was odd and he was the first to admit it, but even a few hours without her in his company made him edgy. It was a Dom trait to a certain extent, needing to keep his sub safe and wanting to know where she was, although it hadn’t been Donovan’s way before Makayla. His other submissives he’d been content to leave to their own devices in their own time. Makayla was different—he worried about her, he worried that Dolores would drive her away, or that Makayla would meet someone else, another Dom who would attract her attention. It was stupid and unreasonable, but he’d never felt this way about another woman and he knew that despite what she said, Makayla was still inexperienced in the ways of the world. Her sheltered life had guaranteed that. She was still an innocent in many respects and he was driven to protect her. He knew he’d have to temper his excessive concern for her safety, but at this point in time, with his ex sniffing around, Martínez showing unwarranted interest and while Donovan trained Makayla in the lifestyle, it was a precarious period and he would have to step very carefully until he had more control of the situation. He hated feeling out of control—it was a sensation so unfamiliar as to cause him physical and mental torment—and he’d do everything in his capacity to restore equilibrium and ensure that the balance of power was once more in his favor.