“But that doesn’t mean I intended to act on those feelings.”
Her eyes flew open. Wesley leaned back, watching her, his smile growing.
“You’re still playing the game, aren’t you?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “How can you do that?”
His laugh startled her. “I’m not, Scarlett. I’d have sex with you in a heartbeat, but not necessarily because of what happened here tonight. Sex for me, in role-playing, has to be organic, happening out of how events unfold between me and my partners. Tonight, here…” Wesley waved his hand at the cross. “It wasn’t quite right. For me or for you.”
Scarlett’s thoughts were a tangled mess, and her body was still thrumming with unfulfilled need and desire. Above that, she didn’t understand Wesley. How could he sit next to her after he’d spent the last hour with her tied almost naked to a cross, smacking her on the ass with a riding crop, and not want to have sex?
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Not at all. You asked me to be honest with you, and I am.” He shifted on the couch, turning toward her. She was conscious of his knee pressing against her thigh, his arm resting across the back of the couch. When he leaned forward, his expression was so intense, she almost wanted to pull away.
“I’ll tell you what I imagined for you tonight, the best outcome for you. I wanted to test you, to push you, to get you to enjoy the buildup. Like I said, it’s a slow burn.” He reached out, taking her hand. “If this had been with any other partner, it might have played out something like this. I’d have brought you to the edge, over and over, each time more intense, then backing off. And then…”
Wesley’s expression slowly changed while he talked, his voice going all deep and sexy, the intensity in his eyes deepening into full-on lust. Scarlett’s heart sped up. She was on a knife’s edge, her body reacting to the sound of Wesley’s voice, his words, his eyes, how close his body was to hers. It was like she was on the cross again, having him do to her what he was describing, only with his words only.
“And then?” The words came out as a little breathless whisper.
“And then, when I let you come, it would have been beyond anything you’d ever experienced. I might have gotten you off with my hand, or my tongue, or the riding crop…or all three. Or I might have fucked you, hard, from behind, still tied on that cross. Or it might have been here, on the couch, or on the floor. But it would have been amazing, the end of a carefully orchestrated night.”
Scarlett stared at Wesley, breathing out something between a sigh and a moan. His words had gotten to her, and she was practically coming where she sat. She wanted him, badly. But not here. She was disappointed with herself for not trusting him, not playing the game. Sex here seemed like the wrong thing in the wrong place.
“Take me back to your apartment, Wesley.”
Wesley’s eyes flicked away from her, just for a second. Something like indecision passed across his face. Scarlett thought he was going to turn her down, but then he smiled, the slow smile that made her stomach do a slow flip flop.
“Yeah. Okay. I can do that.”
Wesley rose, picking up her clothes, handing them to her. She stood, pulled the tank over her head, then tugged the skirt up over her hips while Wesley buttoned his shirt. But when she reached behind her for the zipper, pain lanced through her shoulders and she grimaced, swearing softly. Wesley looked up, fingers stilled on the last button.
“Here, let me. Turn around.”
She turned her back to him and felt him pulling up the zipper of the skirt. His hands moved up to her shoulders, rubbing her neck, his thumbs pressing into her aching muscles.
“You’re going to be sore for a couple of days. Your body’s been through a lot.”
“Thank you.” She looked at him over her shoulder.
“My pleasure.” He leaned down, lips against the back of her neck. “Let’s go.”
The club was crowded, and it took them a few minutes to make their way to the door. Scarlett noticed Stacy at the bar, talking to a ruggedly handsome man and a statuesque blonde. They made a stunning couple and seemed to be the center of a small, animated group of clients.
“That’s the owner, Chase Mitchell, and Brooke. She’s his girlfriend, and his sub.”
“His sub?”
“They met here, from what I know. She was the woman I watched him tie up that night. Not sure if they were together then or not.”
“She’s a sub?” Somehow the image of the woman and the word sub didn’t go together in her mind.
“Yeah. She’s Chase’s sub.” Wesley took her hand, guiding her through the crowd.
Scarlett glanced back over her shoulder at Brooke. The woman looked confident, self-assured. Not like someone who’d give up control to a man. Scarlett lost sight of the woman as they moved out of the lounge.
Wesley held the door and they stepped onto the sidewalk. The night had gotten a little cooler, and Scarlett shivered.
“Cold?” Wesley wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
“Not so much that. Just anticipation, I guess.” She looked up at him. His face was in shadow and she couldn’t read his expression. “You left me on the edge back there. I’m still on the edge. I want you, Wesley.”
Wesley tilted his head, and she caught a bit of a smile on his face. “I want you too, Scarlett. More than you know.”
“Then take me.”
She reached up, fingers wrapping in his hair, tugging him down to her. His mouth came down on hers, softly, too softly for the hunger she had inside her.
Parting her lips, she kissed Wesley, kissed him hard, her tongue thrusting into his mouth. He responded instantly, pulling her against him. The kiss deepened and she felt consumed by it, falling into the kiss until she was all heat and desire and the only thing she cared about was Wesley’s mouth on hers.
“Sir, your car.”
Scarlett jumped, almost whimpering as Wesley broke the kiss. She looked past Wesley’s shoulder. The valet was standing at a discreet distance, holding Wesley’s car keys, the car at the curb.
“Thanks.” Wesley nodded, then held up his hand. The valet tossed him the keys, nodding briefly before walking back into the club.
Wesley tried to step away, toward the car, but Scarlett kept her arms wrapped around him. He glanced down, one eyebrow raised.
“Ready to go?”
“No.” The word popped out before she realized it.
“Now you’re telling me no?” She could hear the smile in Wesley’s voice even if his face was in shadow.
“I am.”
“Are we exchanging roles, Scarlett?”
“We’re not in the club anymore. Maybe there are no more roles.”
“What do you want, Scarlett?”
“You, now…” As she said the words, she knew she couldn’t wait for him to drive her to his apartment, or hers, or anywhere.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
Wesley’s laugh was sharp-edged, brief. “Fine.”
He took her hand and they walked past the door of the club. Abruptly, Wesley turned down a narrow alley running between the club and its neighbor. It was darker here, the light from the street penetrating only a few yards. But she could still see Wesley’s face, the arousal in his eyes clear.
Wesley pushed her against the rough brick wall of the club. His hands seemed everywhere at once, one sliding beneath her shirt, palming her, fingers crushing against her bra-clad breast. The other hand groped beneath her skirt, fingers probing between her thighs, pulling at the flimsy material thong. He pulled it down and then it was sliding along her thighs, pooling around her ankles. She stepped out of it, kicking it aside.
The entire time his eyes were locked with hers, intense and piercing. It was almost too much, but she didn’t want to look away. She wanted to see the heat and desire on his face. It fueled her, made her hot, hotter than she ever thought she could be.
Scarlett slid her leg up and over Wesley’s hip, and he slipped
one hand beneath her thigh, fingers on her hip, caressing her briefly before slipping down to her ass.
“Is this what you want, Scarlett?” He jerked her hard against his body, his words punctuated by the thrust and grind of his hips against her stomach.
“You want me to fuck you in this alley, here against this wall?”
He pushed against her again, driving her up on her toes. Even through his jeans she could feel his erection, how hard he was. Her skirt was rucked up around her waist and the rough denim rubbed against her, teasing her, tormenting her.
Scarlett reached down between their bodies, running her hand over him. She was rewarded with a deep groan. Somehow the snap had already come undone on his jeans and she tugged down the zipper. It was only a few seconds before she had his cock in her hand. He was hard and hot, and as she ran her fingers over him, his groan grew louder.
“God, Scarlett.”
Wesley’s hand left her breast, working between her legs. She rolled her hips forward as Wesley sank his fingers into her. She was wetter than she’d ever thought possible and as Wesley rubbed her clit, she felt a gush of liquid. She was so close to coming but she wanted him inside her, fucking her, making her come with his cock, not his hand.
“Take me, Wesley. Fuck me, hard…”
He buried his face against her neck, pushing her against the wall. The bricks were rough and they rubbed painfully against her shoulders.
He pulled his hand from between her legs, pushing her hand away from his cock. She let go of him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, fingers twined in his hair. Wesley’s hand was still beneath her leg, the other braced against the wall beside her head.
She felt his cock brushing against the inside of her thigh, a thrill running through her. Within seconds he was there, thrusting into her, hard and fast, hips flexing forward. She came instantly.
Scarlett’s world exploded, her hips rocking forward as much as she could pinned between Wesley and the wall. Her body jerked, her head banging against the wall. Each thrust Wesley made scraped the bare skin of her shoulders against the bricks and she pushed back further, relishing the pain. It soaked into her skin, a bright counterpoint to the waves of ecstasy flooding through her body.
Wesley thrust hard into her, his cries muffled against her neck. She knew he was close, could feel him growing even harder inside her, his thrusts becoming sharp and erratic. She turned her face toward his, her lips brushing against his ear.
“Wesley…come for me. Come for me…now.”
Wesley pulled his head back, mouth open, breath tearing from his lips. His eyes bore into hers for a long moment and then he pushed hard into her, hips jerking upward.
He came with a loud grunt, head tipped back, eyes closed. Scarlett felt him come, felt the heat and wetness as he thrust into her. Her body was still filled with the aftershocks of her own orgasm and as Wesley came, she joined him, her body taking on a life of its own, twisting in Wesley’s strong arms.
Wesley finally slumped against Scarlett, his forehead resting against hers. She held him while he gasped for breath, gently combing her fingers through his hair.
They came apart, Wesley gradually relaxing his hold on her leg, until she was standing with both feet on the ground. Still he held her, nuzzling her neck. With a sigh, he finally lifted his head from her shoulder. In the dark, he sought her eyes.
“Was that what you were looking for?” His voice was just above a whisper, like silk over steel.
She nodded, not trusting her own voice.
“Still want to come home with me?”
She nodded again. He stepped back, holding out his hand.
“Then let’s go.”
Chapter Eight
They’d barely gotten in the front door before they were pulling at each other’s clothes, tugging down zippers, undoing buttons. Scarlett grabbed the front of Wesley’s shirt and buttons scattered across the floor.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’ve got other shirts.”
He reached behind her, deftly undoing the clasp on her bra. She shrugged out of it and it fell to the floor alongside his shirt.
“Thanks for not trashing the bra.”
“No problem. I happen to like that bra.”
She smiled and he’d pulled her back against his body, his erection sliding against her stomach.
They’d stumbled down the hall, locked in a desperate kiss. Wesley maneuvered her into his room, tipping her back onto the bed, finally breaking the kiss.
He stood at the edge of the bed a moment, then reached over, flicking on the bedside lamp. His eyes roamed over her body, and for a moment she was uncomfortable. No one had ever looked at her like this, with a hunger that was almost palpable. It charged the room and it took her breath away.
“Turn over.” His voice was edged in steel, his eyes hard and glittering.
Scarlett blinked up at Wesley in surprise, at the request and the tone of his voice. She slowly rolled over onto her stomach. A thrill of anticipation ran down her spine.
She lay still, waiting for him to touch her, to tell her what to do or how to move. Instead, he was silent. Her mind went back to the club, to the times when he’d stopped touching her, stopped talking to her.
But she wasn’t blindfolded now and she looked back over her shoulder. Wesley was rummaging in the bedside table. He pulled out something and turned back to her. Smiling, he held up what was in his hand.
“Aloe gel. Helps with the sting.”
“Oh…thanks.” That wasn’t on the list of things she’d expected to hear from Wesley. But she realized the skin on her backside was sore. It felt like a really bad sunburn.
The mattress dipped as Wesley climbed on the bed beside her. Scarlett folded her arms, resting her head on her forearms, watching. Wesley squirted some of the gel in his hand, tossing the tube on the bed. He leaned forward, rubbing the gel across her skin. It was cold, and a flush of goose bumps skittered across her body.
“Sorry about the cold. But it’ll feel better in a minute.”
He was right. Under Wesley’s gentle touch, the stinging started to fade.
“That is nice. Are you always this nice to girls you play with?”
“Actually, I do. If they stick around long enough. It’s aftercare.”
“You used that word last night.”
“Yeah. It’s part of play, part of being a responsible dominant, to give aftercare.”
“So this isn’t anything new for you?”
He was still rubbing her skin. But his touch had gone from matter-of-fact to a sensual caress, his fingers sliding along the top of her thigh. Her breathing sped up just a bit, and she ran her tongue along her lower lip.
“Can I ask you a question?” She looked over her shoulder.
Wesley was watching the path of his hand over her skin, eyes heavy-lidded. He looked up at her, his gaze a little unfocused.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Why did you do this thing with my hair? It must be a mess by now.”
The corner of his mouth curved up. “Yeah. It is.” Wesley sat up, nudging her legs apart with his hands. “Let me show you.”
She let him move her legs apart, and then he knelt between them, leaning forward, resting one hand beside her shoulder. She felt his cock brush her ass, surprisingly soft and very hot as it rubbed against her.
“I said I like the back of your neck.” His voice was a low murmur.
“Do you like the back of every girl’s neck?” She wanted to turn, to see his face, but he had her pinned to the bed, his chest against her back.
“Anyone ever tell you that you ask a lot of questions?”
He kissed the back of her neck, fingers edging into her hair. “I like the back of your neck. And I like your hair up. And then…”
She felt the pins being pulled from her hair, tendrils falling against her shoulder. “And then I like it to be down, to watch it fall over your shoulders when I take out the pins.” His breath was sof
t against her neck, his voice very close to her ear.
“If you were my sub, I’d have you wear your hair up all the time. Every day I’d put it up like I did at your apartment. And then, every night, I’d take it down again.”
His words almost knocked the breath out of her. If she were his sub. For a dizzying moment she tried to imagine what that would be like, but she couldn’t focus on anything but what Wesley was doing to her.
Scarlett’s body was headed for some kind of sensual overload. Every place Wesley touched her was like a brand on her skin. A throbbing had started inside her, low and deep, and she pressed her hips into the bed. Wesley’s body followed her, his hips pushing against her. For an instant his cock slid down the cleft of her ass, and she arched up suddenly, the delicious feel of him sliding over her.
“And then I’d do this.”
Wesley wrapped his hand around her hair, tugging gently, experimentally. Then he pulled harder, pulling her head back. She gasped, rising up on her elbows.
“Further.” Wesley’s weight lifted from her, freeing her. She rose up on her hands and knees, Wesley behind her, still holding her hair in his hand.
“Then I’d do this.”
It wasn’t until his thighs hit against hers, rubbing against the tender skin, that her mind figured out what Wesley was doing. He slid into her quickly, completely, driving forward with his hips.
But her body knew exactly what was going on, and she cried out suddenly, a powerful wave of sensations flooding through her.
He was gentle but forceful as he pushed himself into her, her hair still held in his hand as he thrust into her. She had no choice but to arch her back, to look straight ahead. Images from the club, of being on the cross came back to her, Wesley behind her, while she wore a blindfold. Wesley behind her in this bed, the night before.
“Scarlett…” Wesley’s voice broke her thoughts. He let go of her hair and she fell forward, gasping. She struggled to turn around, to look at him, but everything sped up, spinning out of control.
Wesley’s fingers dug into her waist, pushing her forward with the power of his thrusts. She heard moans and gasps, hers and his together, growing louder, more urgent.
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