by Laura Kaye
On His Knees
Laura Kaye
Contents
On His Knees
PRAISE FOR THE BLASPHEMY SERIES
HOT CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE BY LAURA KAYE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Coming Soon from Laura Kaye…
About the Blasphemy Series
More Hot Contemporary Romance
About Laura Kaye
On His Knees
Getting on his knees makes him question everything…and want even more…
Another failed relationship has lawyer Jamie Fielding confronting the truth—he’ll never be satisfied with any woman until he admits what he needs…to submit and to be used—hard. When a friend invites him to the exclusive Blasphemy club, Jamie is stunned to find everything he ever wanted—in the fierce, ruthless hands of a man.
Psychiatrist Alex McGarry will play with anyone who craves his rough brand of domination, but what he really wants is to settle down. Which makes the submissive male he meets at his club a bad idea—the man might be hot as hell but he’s also new to everything Alex has to offer. Except that doesn’t keep them from coming together again and again, sating every one of their darkest desires.
Master Alex sets Jamie’s whole world on fire and makes him question everything—and that’s good. Because Alex won’t tolerate hiding what they have for long and he wants much more than just having Jamie on his knees...
On His Knees
FIRST EDITION February 2018
ON HIS KNEES © Laura Kaye.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part or whole of this book may be used, reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work via electronic or mechanical means is a violation of international copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines and/or imprisonment. If you are reading the ebook, it is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share the ebook, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Please do not participate in piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and/or are used fictitiously and are solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to persons living or dead, places, businesses, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
Cover Photography by Wander Aguiar Photography
Cover Design by The Killion Group
PRAISE FOR THE BLASPHEMY SERIES
Laura Kaye shows her mastery of the BDSM world. I'm eagerly anticipating more in this bold new series!" ~ Cherise Sinclair, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters of the Shadowlands Series
"Smoldering and sexy, Laura Kaye's Blasphemy series is everything I look for in a romance. Haunted heroes and strong heroines populate this one of a kind club and I can't wait to see the big bad Doms fall one by one." ~ Lexi Blake, NYT Bestselling Author of the Masters and Mercenaries Series
HOT CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE BY LAURA KAYE
Warrior Fight Club Series
FIGHTING FOR EVERYTHING - May 22, 2018
FIGHTING FOR WHAT’S HIS - August 2018
FIGHTING THE FIRE - October 2018
Blasphemy Series
HARD TO SERVE
BOUND TO SUBMIT
MASTERING HER SENSES
EYES ON YOU
THEIRS TO TAKE
ON HIS KNEES
Raven Riders Series
HARD AS STEEL
RIDE HARD
RIDE ROUGH
RIDE WILD
RIDE DIRTY - March 13, 2018
Hard Ink Series
HARD AS IT GETS
HARD AS YOU CAN
HARD TO HOLD ON TO
HARD TO COME BY
HARD TO BE GOOD
HARD TO LET GO
HARD AS STEEL
HARD EVER AFTER
HARD TO SERVE
Hearts in Darkness Duet
HEARTS IN DARKNESS
LOVE IN THE LIGHT
Heroes Series
HER FORBIDDEN HERO
ONE NIGHT WITH A HERO
Stand Alone Titles
DARE TO RESIST
JUST GOTTA SAY
To finding where you belong.
One
It was entirely possible that Alex McGarry was too damn old for this shit.
That was his thought just before he stepped under the scalding hot spray of the shower. Bracing a hand against the marble tile, he bowed his head and let the water rain down on the back of his neck. He held the position for a long while, hoping the heat would ease the knot of muscle there, the knot borne from the exertion of whipping a submissive—and from learning the hard way that the woman hadn’t been entirely honest about her limits.
Something made clear when the submissive had safeworded out of the scene, tears and a half-horrified accusation in her eyes.
Sonofabitch.
Alex had been fucking up too much lately. A few months back, with Master Wolf’s submissive, Olivia, when Alex had invited her ex-fiancé to Blasphemy at an open house at the club. He hadn’t realized they had a history, but that didn’t absolve him from the guilt he felt about the horrible confrontation that’d gone down when the guy made a move on Liv. And now, tonight, with this submissive.
He should’ve been able to read her. How had he missed it?
Having been a part of Blasphemy since its beginning, Alex had seen it grow from a mere idea trying to take root in the ruins of an abandoned church, to it becoming the hottest club in Baltimore, one that drew players from as far away as New York and Richmond—and beyond. After all these years, things should be easier.
But here he was, a few weeks shy of his fortieth birthday. Still trying to figure shit out. Still able to feel shamed about being a sadist. Still alone.
That last one was getting to him more and more every damn day.
Enough with the pity party.
Tilting his head back, he closed his eyes and scrubbed the spray of water over his face.
Yeah. Enough.
Alex wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way into the locker room. The area wasn’t huge—for there were only twelve Master Dominants who co-owned Blasphemy and shared this private lounge that overlooked the club’s main space—but it was well appointed, with mahogany paneling, soft leather sofas and chairs, and a few private spaces in case one of the Masters wished to spend the night.
It was so late that Alex was surprised to find someone else there, sitting on the long bench in between the two walls of lockers—and he was even more surprised by who it was.
“Hale?” Alex said, able to identify the man from the multitude of tattoos that covered his skin even though he sat with his head in his hands. “I didn’t realize you were here tonight.” In fact, he wasn’t sure when he’d last seen Hale O’Keeffe at the club. Maybe at the masquerade ball back in October? Hale owned the largest share in Blasphemy, and once upon a time had nearly lived at the club. That was back at the beginning, when they’d all had to pitch in more to get the business up and running. But it made Hale’s more recent absences stand out to Alex and the other Masters—absences they’d all privately w
ondered about.
Almost like he was moving in slow motion, Hale peered over his shoulder and gave a small smile. “Got here late,” he said, his voice nearly a raw scrape, as if he were exhausted.
Standing at his locker, Alex traded his towel for a pair of boxers. “You doing okay?” he asked, even though the answer seemed pretty damn obvious.
Hale tugged on a long-sleeved black T-shirt and rose as he answered. “You know, I don’t even know. I’ve just been…off. It’s nothing.”
Eyeballing the guy, Alex debated whether to push. He was a psychiatrist, but that didn’t mean people wanted to be analyzed every time they talked to him. Sometimes people just needed to vent or commiserate, no probing questions asked. But there was something about the set of Hale’s shoulders that made it seem like he carried the weight of the world there. And his once jet-black hair was now shot through with some gray. So, Alex came down on the side of pushing. “You sure? Anything you want to talk about?”
“Nah. Nothing a good night of sleep won’t cure, you know? But thanks,” he said, giving a more genuine smile.
Alex nodded. “I know how that is,” he said. “So get the hell out of here then.”
Hale chuffed out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. You come by your hard-ass reputation honestly, you know that?” He winked and threw a wave. “Good night.”
“Night,” Alex called, stepping into his pants, then his shirt, then his shoes. In Hale’s absence, the locker room felt even more quiet. And in all that silence, Alex’s thoughts sounded that much louder. Thoughts that the somewhat strange encounter with the other Dom stirred up even more. Because if he wanted to admit it, Alex saw something of himself in the haggard demeanor Hale had briefly let show.
Damnit, he was all up in his head tonight, wasn’t he?
Once, all this gave Alex such a pure, visceral contentment. The club, the BDSM lifestyle, finding partners who craved his brand of sexual sadism—once, it’d left him energized on a fundamental level, even when the physicality of it had exhausted his body. It was always a good kind of tired.
Now?
Now part of him felt like Hale had looked, sitting there with his shoulders rounded, his head in his hand. And on that note, Alex slammed his locker door and made his way out.
Downstairs, he found the main floor of the club empty. Or mostly empty, anyway. Because Masters Quinton Ross, Wolf Henrikson, and Kyler Vance were still there, sitting around the circular iron-and marble bar that dominated the center of the old church’s nave with a bottle and three glasses between them.
“Oh, hell yeah. Pour me one,” Alex said as the others called out a greeting. Maybe it made him an asshole, but he was relieved that none of the other Dom’s submissives were there. All three men were in committed relationships, and Alex was happy for them. Any other night he wouldn’t have minded the ladies’ company. But the fact that quite a few of the other Blasphemy Masters had paired off over the course of the last year highlighted Alex’s inability to find someone of his own. Tonight, he didn’t need the reminder.
“Rough night, man?” Quinton asked, pushing a tumbler of amber liquor his way.
Alex gave a humorless laugh as he swirled the liquid in his glass. “Had a submissive bite off more than she could swallow and safeword out of a scene.”
“Shit,” Kyler said, brows cranking down over bright blue eyes.
Among these three Doms, Kyler’s kinks aligned most closely with his own, with both of them having interests that extended down the edgier end of the spectrum. And he and Kyler also worked in fields that made their edge play even riskier—Kyler as a detective on the Baltimore City police force and Alex in the mental health field. If word got out that either of them were into the shit they were into, it could have repercussions much bigger than a scene gone bad. It was part of the reason all players at the club had to sign non-disclosure agreements.
“Sorry to hear that,” Kyler said. “But what the hell was she thinking? It’s not like your interests aren’t perfectly well known around here.”
True enough. Alex occasionally did public demonstrations with one of a handful of regular submissives, men and women, who came to him to sate their masochism. He had an intimidating reputation around the club—intimidating as much because of his standoffish demeanor as because of the pain he could inflict, for those who were into that sort of thing.
“Don’t beat yourself up, man. It happens,” Wolf said, throwing him a sympathetic look. “Hopefully she learned something important about understanding her own limits.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Alex said, raising his glass. They clinked, and then he was throwing back the whiskey and relishing the bite as he swallowed it down. “So, I saw Hale was here.”
“Yeah, he passed through a few minutes ago,” Quinton said, leaning against the counter from inside the circular bar. The club’s food and beverage manager, the guy was also their most popular bartender. “We invited him to stay but he waved us off.”
The four of them traded quiet looks for a moment. Kyler was the first to break the tension. “Something’s off with him.”
Nodding, Alex said, “I asked. He downplayed it.”
Wolf shrugged. “Before I met Liv, I’ll be honest, I’d been questioning things. Whether I still belonged here. Whether the fact that I’d even ask such a question meant I might not be doing right by the submissives I played with. I think we all go through ups and downs with the lifestyle.”
“Damn, man,” Quinton said. “You never said anything.”
“Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to say. Or whether saying it would make you all question my commitment to what we’ve built here. But Liv helped me work that shit out.” Wolf winked, his green eyes flashing.
Alex was as surprised as he was relieved to hear Wolf’s admission. And as Kyler and Quinton joined in with the man in singing the praises of their submissives, Alex’s thoughts spun on what Wolf had said.
On the one hand, maybe it wasn’t so unusual to be questioning things. Among the twelve Blasphemy Masters, only Hale was older than Alex or been in the community longer. But on the other, Wolf’s cure for that questioning led Alex right back to the desire to find some kind of commitment amidst the kink. He didn’t need every sexual encounter to be defined by his sadism, but he also couldn’t live without it. That made it challenging to find play partners—let alone a potential long-term relationship—outside the lifestyle, or even outside Blasphemy.
Just so you know, I would seriously get off on your pain.
Yeah, that wasn’t first-date material. Or even fifth date material.
For fuck’s sake.
Alex threw back a gulp of the whiskey, then returned the glass to the bar top with more force than he’d intended. Three pairs of eyes cut his way.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m obviously shit for company.” Kyler eyeballed him a little too closely, making him feel exposed. Exactly what he didn’t need. Alex tugged on his coat. “I’m gonna head out, but thanks for the drink and the commiseration.”
“Any time, man,” Quinton said. “See you soon. And, oh, don’t forget—”
Turning back, Alex halted. “About?”
“We need to know what you want to do for the New Year’s Eve Party.”
Damn. That was the second time Quinton had reminded him. The party was in less than two weeks. It wasn’t at all normal for Alex to drag his feet on figuring out what he wanted to do for a demonstration, and it bothered him that he’d been so indecisive this time. Just one more brick in the wall of what’d been unsettling him lately. “I’ll get on this tomorrow, Q. Sorry to make you ask twice.”
“Not a problem, Alex. You know that. Have a good night.”
With a single nod, Alex retreated across the long expanse of the club. In the quiet, his footsteps echoed up to the soaring ceiling of the old church with its stained-glass windows and stone pillars. Something about that reverberating sound made him feel so fucking alone despite the men he’d just left behind. The ride home,
past festive store displays and light-bedecked houses, only added to that feeling of solitude, as did stepping into the quiet dark of his empty house.
Without turning on a light, he shrugged out of his coat, let it drop to the floor, and sank into the sofa. Kicked off his shoes and propped his feet up on the big coffee table. Closed his eyes.
He’d sleep right there tonight. So he didn’t have to face being alone in his bed.
Two
This isn’t working.”
The sweat hadn’t even dried on Jamie Fielding’s skin when Liz’s resigned pronouncement rang out from the other side of the mattress. His head swiveled against the pillow, and his gaze collided with that of the woman he’d been inside of three minutes before and dating for the past two months. There was a matter-of-factness in the cast of her brown eyes that cut through all the bullshit. He couldn’t challenge what she’d said, because he felt it, too. So instead, he agreed. “I wanted it to work.”
Her smile was a little sad as she pulled the sheet up over her nakedness. “I know.”
Jamie hated himself just a little for failing at another relationship. Liz was smart and beautiful, successful and well-regarded in the advertising field. What more could a man want?
Yeah, what more, Jamie?
The gut check told him there was an answer to his question. He just hadn’t found it. And he had no idea how to figure it out, either.