Submissive on the Run (1Night Stand): Carnivore Club

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Submissive on the Run (1Night Stand): Carnivore Club Page 7

by Tara Quan


  Not giving her time to recover, he tugged open his fly and freed his erection. Then he straddled her, positioning his knees on either side of her head. His hand under her nape, he positioned her mouth. When she didn’t respond fast enough, he gripped her jaw, forcing her lips to part. “You know what to do.”

  At his gruff order, she darted her tongue out to taste the drop of moisture on the tip of his cock. Her lids heavy, she surrounded him in sultry warmth, teased him with the barest hint of teeth. His mood too dark for sensual play, he fed her his length, his fingers clutching her silky hair as he forced her to take him all the way.

  He rode her, maintaining eye contact the entire time he fucked her mouth. She tried to alter his rhythm with licks and sucks. When he kept up the relentless pace, she slackened her jaw, her eyes closing as she relinquished control.

  He held on for as long as he could, the sight of her lips on his dick feeding his hunger as much as the liquid heat. At the cusp of release, he pulled out, rock hard and ready to explode.

  The carpet scraped Kim’s breasts as Joss flipped her. Still burning from the balm he’d used, her nipples protested the abuse. But his rough handling fueled her arousal, which was already driven to a fever pitch by the aborted orgasm and blowjob.

  She glanced up. To her relief, the other two Doms had left. Nonetheless, her face flamed. Strangers had stripped her naked, pinned her down, and watched her get wet from giving Joss oral.

  No, she hadn’t given him anything. He’d fucked her mouth, and she’d enjoyed every moment.

  The scent of menthol assailed her moments before his large hands closed around her butt. She groaned as he smeared the cold, slippery liquid over flesh tender from a recent spanking. Within seconds, her ass heated, the icy-hot sting intensifying the soreness.

  He’d used small quantities of the product on her before, the thick, clear compound serving as both lubricant and stimulant. Her labia were on fire. Her clit pulsed.

  Hearing the crackle of tearing plastic, she twisted her head back. Her heart sank as she watched him pull out a butt plug. They’d never tried anal, and he seemed intent on making tonight one she’d never forget.

  To her horror, he covered the conical plastic with ample amounts of the minty balm. As if he could read her mind, he answered her unvoiced question. “It’ll help numb the pain. Trust me.”

  Curious enough not to stop him, she turned her face to the side. Cheek on the floor, she gritted her teeth as he pushed the plug into her. She closed her fingers over the carpet, her breaths devolving into gasps as the torture intensified. Tears torched the back of her lids. The safe word hovered on the tip of her tongue.

  Then, with a plop, the agony ended, leaving behind a steady, searing pressure.

  “Good girl.”

  Taking her by the shoulders, he lifted her to her knees. Wedging himself between her calves, he brought her down until the tip of his penis touched her labia. At some point, he’d smoothed on a condom.

  The crisp fabric of his trousers rasped her thighs. His chest warmed her back despite the shirt separating them. Plumping her breasts, he tugged at her swollen nipples. His rumbled words tickled the sensitive spot behind her ear. “This will hurt.”

  “Wait—”

  He surged into her, the uncomfortable stretching overwhelmed by the impact of his groin hitting her ass. She cried out, her hips shimmying to escape the dual torture. With a whispered threat, he shifted his hands to circle her waist, his imprisoning grip forcing her to remain in place.

  Left with no recourse, she stopped moving. Biting hard enough to mark her neck, he slid one hand down. His fingers settled on her clit. He pressed, circled, before spreading her labia and forcing direct contact.

  White patches covered her vision. Her skin pulsed hot and cold. Stuffed beyond endurance, she slumped against his chest. Reaching her arms back, she used his broad shoulders as an anchor. “You’re hurting me.”

  “You want me to.”

  She couldn’t deny the simple truth. He lifted her up and down his thick length. Each time their bodies met, the plug shifted inside her, the edgy pain enhancing the pleasure of his assault. Combined with his wicked fingers, the chemical heat licking her breasts and butt, she stood no chance.

  Ecstasy consumed her. Arching her spine, she circled her ass in a silent demand for more. Murmuring praises into her ear, he dug his fingers into her abs. He pulled her back to meet each thrust, his rhythm quickening until her teeth rattled and her breasts bounced.

  Her awareness shattered, before coalescing into the narrowest of bands. Cognizant only of the man pounding into her, she screamed when the frustrating agony splintered. Spasming around his unrelenting impalement, she clung to him as he forced her to take him deeper, harder, and faster.

  Chapter Six

  “Are you sure you don’t want to crash in my suite?” Joss nuzzled Kim’s neck as they strode out the hotel’s sliding glass doors. “My tub fits two. It has massaging jets.”

  The man had a knack for exploiting her weaknesses. A long soak sounded like heaven after the night’s activities. Muscles she hadn’t known existed protested each movement. With every step, her sore butt reminded her of the lines they’d crossed.

  Thoroughly used, she was exhausted, giddy, and paradoxically hyper. A beautiful, sunny day beckoned. She’d trade it in a heartbeat for some indoor time with the Dom by her side.

  Alas, she couldn’t afford the distraction. Putting her life back on track came first. Coming clean to her employer, retrieving her original IDs, and digging up her ATM card topped her list of priorities. Then, she’d see about requesting an official university transcript, sprucing up her resume, and applying for a day job.

  She’d keep her night one, perhaps shaving a few hours here and there. It came with voyeuristic perks and extra cash.

  Damn. She should call her parents and tell them everything. Maybe she could put that off until tomorrow.

  As for Joss, she’d have to slot him into her suddenly hectic schedule. If he wanted to hang out, it meant sharing a one dollar Hot Pocket from her freezer and crashing on her lumpy mattress. The man better toughen up, and fast.

  “You’re the one who insisted I bring you home. Besides, I’m sure Tiger has destroyed your hotel room.” She doubted the man realized cats had claws and needed litter.

  Scowling, he adjusted the back of her top so it covered an extra quarter inch of her ribcage. A second later, the cotton rode up. He groaned. “Is there some reason you won’t let me buy you a T-shirt?”

  She wagged her finger. “Buying me stuff is against the rules.” The new ones she’d instituted ever since it became clear they would one-night stand each other on a regular basis.

  He wrapped his arms around her midriff. She suspected possessiveness drove him, not affection. Ever since they left the club, he’d gotten growly. “Rules are meant to be broken. Besides, I tore your shirt. It’s not a gift. It’s restitution.”

  Always the lawyer. “So, you can have your posse strip me, hold me down while I was naked, and watch me give you a blow job.” She crossed her arms. “But showing off my abs outdoors rubs you the wrong way?”

  “I can’t be rational.” He shrugged. “Not when you’re underdressed. We’re not in a club. I don’t trust dudes I haven’t been friends with since kindergarten.”

  “It’s Vegas. Since I have my pants back on, some would argue I’m overdressed. By the way, aren’t you melting in that suit?”

  Outside air-conditioned environs, just looking at his outfit made her overheat. At least he hadn’t put on a tie.

  “As a matter of fact…. Yes, I am.” A triumphant gleam in his eyes, he shrugged off his jacket and deposited it on her shoulders.

  Though the soft wool smelled enough like him to compel her to draw it closer, she narrowed her eyes. Outside a scene, she didn’t want him getting any ideas about bossing her around. “Please tone down the caveman act. We’ve discussed this.”

  He stuck out his lower lip. �
��I’d lost you for close to a year. My memory needs refreshing. I have to warn you, all my teachers swear I’m a slow learner. Oh look, the damn car is rounding the corner.” It’d taken them long enough. Considering Joss had called ahead, the vehicle’s arrival should have been in sync with theirs.

  “About time.” She’d have to alert hotel management of the problem. When it came to classy, high-end experiences, the little details mattered.

  “I’m considering not coughing up a tip.” To her chagrin, Joss’s mind seemed to move in lockstep with hers. “What kind of shitty outfit are you working for? You should quit and move back to Boston.”

  “Nice try.” She scowled as the brand new convertible BMW inched closer. Despite a clear path, it moved at sub-turtle speed. What the heck? “That’s your car?’

  “Don’t worry. It’s a rental. My new ride is a Ferrari. I switched from SUVs to sports cars.”

  “Isn’t it a little soon for a midlife crisis?” she sputtered. “A Beemer won’t survive ten minutes in my neighborhood. Couldn’t you have picked something less ostentatious?”

  “I have a minimum limit on horse power.” He fluttered his lashes, the feigned innocence fooling no one. “Of course, we could drive this to my hotel, where it’ll be safe.”

  Tempting. “Tiger will have peed on your mattress.”

  “We’ll get another room.”

  “No, I refuse to let you spend any more money because of me.” She exaggerated her sigh. “You leave me no choice. We’re taking the bus.”

  He gaped. “The bus. As in public transportation?”

  She fought back a grin. “Am I scaring you off, rich boy?”

  “No. Of course not.” For once, beads of sweat dotted his brow. “How about I switch the car for a Prius? The rental place is on the way, and I’ll be saving money because of you.”

  Not a huge fan of the transit system, she relented. “Okay. Deal.”

  When the car reached them, Joss strode to the driver’s side. She frowned. Ever since she’d spotted the valet through the front window, something about the nondescript man had smelled off. Trusting her instincts, she identified the source of her unease. The guy wore a long trench coat.

  Uniform violations aside, the stifling heat made outerwear a rare sight in these parts. Even though the vehicle had come to a complete standstill, the driver lingered inside the cab, the delay long enough to prompt Joss to knock on the window.

  The valet reached inside his coat. Then, he unlocked the car.

  She didn’t think. She acted.

  Sprinting at full speed, she rammed the door as it swung open, crashing it into the exiting driver. With a loud wail, he tumbled onto the pavement. A hunk of black metal flew from his hand, landed on the ground, and skidded to a stop in front of Joss’s lace-ups.

  An M4, modded with a suppressor. What an amateur. Why bring a machine gun when a pistol would do the job?

  Both men dove for the firearm. Though certain Joss had an advantage, she vaulted around the door to land a kick on the assassin’s abdomen. Grunting, he rolled on his back, giving her the perfect opportunity to stomp on his balls.

  Though cliché, the move worked like a charm.

  In the meantime, Joss picked up the weapon and aimed it at their assailant’s chest. Certain he had no idea how to use it, she picked her way to his side. “Want to give me that?”

  “No.” He sounded calm. Too calm.

  She dug her fingers into his tensed forearm. The dumbass was down for the count. Though her heart continued to race, the danger ended moments ago. “Let’s not start our relationship with a murder charge.”

  “I can argue a self-defense case in my sleep.” He closed his hand around hers and tore it off. “He tried to kill you.”

  Oh God. The idiot might shoot. If he didn’t brace the thing right, and assuming the assassin had modded it to full auto, bullets could spray all over the place.

  Not good.

  “Err…. Joss…. He wasn’t aiming at me.”

  She watched his expression soften from one blink to the next. Having discovered the ideal strategy, she circled her arms around his waist and pressed her forehead into his lats. “I was on the other side of the door. If he’d wanted to kill me, he would have waited to grab the gun.” The argument assumed the man wasn’t an idiot, which recent events had brought into question.

  Throwing a glance at the personnel in dark suits who’d run out of the hotel to form a semicircle around them, Joss lowered the weapon. “I guess bruised balls will do.”

  She drew in a deep breath. The man had warped priorities. He’d kill for her, but not himself. “Did you piss off any destitute mob bosses?” Considering the quality of their assassin, the bounty must have been pathetic.

  “No. I do corporate law, with an occasional exception for friends.” Against her cheek, his muscles remained tense. “There’s no reason for anyone to kill me.”

  Although his personality tempted her to wring his neck every once in a while, she had to agree.

  She tightened her hold on him. The timing couldn’t be a coincidence. “What precisely did you do to get your mother off my back?”

  He handed the firearm to one of the hotel’s security staff. “All this PDA is great for my ego, but you can let me go. I can’t move.”

  “You could have died.” She hugged him closer. “I get to hold you as long as I want. What did you do, Joss?”

  “I seized control of my trust fund and threatened to cut Mother off.” He gave her shoulder an awkward pat. “Sandra hates poverty much more than she loves her sons. She’s selfish that way. Besides, since I handed the FBI a case against my brother on a silver platter, your testimony is moot.”

  Her heart breaking for him, she tilted her head back. He was a smart guy. He hadn’t reached the obvious conclusion because he didn’t want to. For his own safety, they needed to face the truth. “What happens to the trust if you die?” She cupped his face, drew him down so she could brush her lips on his stubbled jaw.

  His brows knotted. Then he threw his head back and laughed—it was one of the saddest sounds she’d ever heard. “Damn. I guess I left one giant, gaping loophole.”

  No son should have to anticipate his mother killing him for money. “I’m so sorry.”

  “For what?” He caught her chin then bit her lower lip. “Giving me sass in the club?”

  Recognizing the diversion, she kissed him, pouring all the tenderness she had into the caress. As much as she understood his preference, she couldn’t let him hide behind passion and games. “For breaking up your family. Joss…your mother tried to kill you. You can’t ignore this.”

  “My family was broken long before we met.” He ran his palms down her back, the movement slow and soothing. “Stop worrying. I’ll handle it.”

  “How?”

  He rolled his eyes. “You’re nagging.”

  “This is the epitome of extenuating circumstances. Your life is at stake. Why won’t you take this seriously?”

  “I am. Fine. If you feel so strongly about my well-being, you won’t mind marrying me.”

  At times, conversation with the man gave her headaches. “Come again?”

  “If we’re married, then you’ll inherit everything when I die. Trust me, my mother will switch to sending me protein shakes.”

  “And if we both die?”

  He scratched his chin. “Valid point. I’ll stipulate in our will everything goes to charity if we don’t have children.”

  “Can’t you stipulate it without marrying me?”

  “Okay. You got me there.” He pouted. “Damn. Why does this trick work in TV shows?”

  She smacked the side of his head. “Because it’s a plot device. No, I’m not marrying you. I’m twenty-two.”

  “The average age of marriage for females in Utah is twenty-three point three.”

  The overconfident ass must have looked up the statistics before flying here. “And I’m from Mass. Come on, we need to find a lawyer and write your w
ill. Who knows how many hired guns your mother sicced on you?”

  “Pretty sure it’s just the one. She spends a lot on drugs, and this is super-short notice. Even if she pawned her jewelry, she couldn’t have come up with much.” Joss pulled out his smartphone and started tapping. “I’ll text her and say I’d already changed my will. I actually have. I did it eons ago. I forgot to tell her.”

  Text? The man was going to thwart a murder attempt via text? “Shouldn’t you at least call?”

  “The messaging app tells me when she’s read it.” He pocketed the gadget. “Which she has, as of two seconds ago. It’ll take her five minutes to verify the terms with the lawyers and fix whatever she did.”

  “How do you know she’ll do it quickly? Shouldn’t you check—?”

  “Don’t worry, she’ll haul ass. I left the entire Bradlee fortune to you, followed by your charity of choice, which I assumed was Green Peace.”

  “You did what?”

  He patted her head. “I figured you’d put it to good use.”

  “Undo it. Undo it right now.” With great difficulty, she kept her volume a few notches under a shriek. “Whether you’re dead or alive, I don’t want your money. If you didn’t have all this gold-plated baggage, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

  “I knew there was a reason I loved you.” He hooked his arm around her elbow and dragged her toward the car. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before the cops show up. I have better things to do with my day than signing stupid statements. By the way, are you hungry? I’m starved.”

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  Chapter One

  Naomi Price squinted at the dog’s pointed ear. It twitched again. A second later, a long pink tongue lolled out. Bear’s thick, heavy tail thumped the manicured grass, the exuberant wag flicking white flecks onto her cargo pants. More suds filled the chilled morning air as his dappled head swung toward the brownstone’s sliding doors.

 

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