My Wicked Devil (Club Wicked)

by Mayburn, Ann

  Completely tied down and at his mercy, she tried to fight the trembles shaking through her but couldn’t manage to do anything more than pant. Blue, pink, and then purple light shifted beneath her, reminding her of being strapped to the Aurora Borealis. She felt vulnerable and wanted to be here less by the second. Bryan’s soothing touch as he moved her helped center her and push away her panic. She’d been in much more precarious positions than this with her lord, and he’d kept her safe every time.

  He came back so she could see him, and in his hand, he held a candelabra of different-colored candles. A big male submissive in a chain-mail loincloth moved into her line of sight, and Bryan handed the candelabra to him. Turning, Bryan nodded to someone behind her head. “Thank you, Master Finn, for lending me your submissive.”

  An older man’s voice tickled over her like sharp electricity, the command in his tone undeniable. “Most welcome. Watching someone of your caliber break in a submissive is always a treat.”

  Bryan smiled, and when he looked back at Kira, the darkness in his gaze made her gasp. Oh, she knew that look. Part concentration, part excitement, and a whole bunch of lust. But underneath all those volatile emotions was a tenderness that had her whole body tingle with pleasure. She wanted to please him, to share the best experience possible for him as well. All she had to do was endure a little pain and do what he asked.

  “Kira, I’m going to adorn your body with wax drippings. If you move and disrupt my work, I will be most displeased. If you manage to hold still, we’ll be able to remove the drippings in one solid piece.” He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss. “I would then take that mass of wax and have it framed and hung in my green room where I can look at it and remember this perfect moment with you.”

  She kissed him back, tickled pink about the idea of a part of her hanging among all that priceless and beautiful artwork. “Thank you, my lord.”

  “What’s your safe word?”

  “Pookie, but you know that, my lord.”

  “Yes, I know what it is, but I want you to know that everything that is about to happen is only occurring because you allow it. By using your safe word, you are giving both of us freedom. You the freedom to stop the scene at any time, and me the freedom to take you as deep into subspace as I can, to give you the most pleasure possible, without worry of injuring you or causing you harm. If at any moment you want this to stop, if it’s too much, safeword out for me, love. I can’t stand the thought of abusing your trust.” The sincerity in his dark gaze made her melt.

  She smiled up at him, his almost constant worry about her safety tugging at her heart. “Yes, my lord. I trust you.”

  Selecting a red candle, he moved out of her line of sight, and she tensed, her stomach a sour ball. She probably should have eaten more at dinner, but she’d been so keyed up she’d scarcely been able to do more than eat a few mouthfuls of her food. Now she regretted it because her stomach’s churning increased to the point where a light sweat coated her skin.

  A few moments later, a hot drop of wax dripped onto her leg. Hopefully it wouldn’t leave a mark because they had a dinner party her parents were hosting tomorrow night. She was taking Bryan, and it would be their first public event out together. She would like to be able to wear something that didn’t cover her from her ears to her toes.

  She whispered, “My lord, no marks that can’t be covered by my dress, please.”

  He looked up at her and gave her a small smile. “Don’t worry, love. You may have a bit of redness tonight, but I won’t leave any lasting marks that might raise questions. Now, hold still.”

  The burning trail moved up one leg and down the other, then across her belly and between her breasts. He hadn’t gotten near any of her major erogenous zones yet, but that didn’t stop the heavy arousal from setting in. She relaxed, giving him free rein to take her where he wanted her to go, because she knew that once the pain was over, the devastating pleasure would begin.

  Bryan placed the red candle back and selected a white one. This time he started at her chest, and she could briefly watch the pooling of the wax at the top of the candle, then the careful drip. He didn’t look at her face at all, concentrating intently on the way the wax dripped over her skin. He let a drop fall on her right nipple, and she couldn’t help but scream. The table beneath her reacted to her movements, and bright yellow and red light splashed over Bryan, painting him in the color of flames. He leaned down and kissed her lips, seducing her with his mouth and turning the burn into a delicious, painful pleasure that started to shut down her thoughts and turn her attention solely to her body.

  “Okay, love?”

  Her clit throbbed to the beat of her heart, and she couldn’t wait to have his mouth down there, his fingers, his cock. “God, yes. Don’t stop.”

  After smiling at her, he resumed his task, dripping the wax down her other side in slow, controlled drops.

  Next he grabbed a green candle, but this time, he let the wax fall on her left nipple, earning another scream.

  Okay, that really fucking hurt, but she’d endured worse pain only to have Bryan make it into mind-dissolving pleasure. She just had to hang on until that happened.

  She panted, trying to get past the pain, to get her body to switch it over.

  He must have seen her struggle, because a moment later, his clever fingers were stroking through her exposed folds. He gathered some of her honey on his finger and spread it over her clit, dragging a groan from her. Pleasure finally began to overtake the pain, and she let out a shaky breath.

  Still massaging her clit, he began to paint her belly with the green candle, sending little sizzles through her nerves that arched down to where he continued to toy with her.

  All around them, the music pounded, and an odd taste filled her mouth. Before she could dwell too much on it, he began to drop the wax closer to her mound. Her breathing sped up. The anticipation was fair killing her, and she tried to breathe through the discomfort, but oh God, she knew it was going to hurt so badly. She held her breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to relax. She could do this; she just had to hold on a little bit longer, and that wonderful transformation would happen where he made her pain into pleasure.

  Saliva filled her mouth, and her stomach lurched. Her legs and hands began to go numb, and all of her senses began to dull. Forcing her eyes open, she attempted to lift her head. Black dots swarmed the edges of her vision, like a thousand shadows converging on her. She tried to tell Bryan something was wrong, but by that point, it was too late.

  * * * *

  Warmth surrounded her, and she snuggled closer, the smell of unfamiliar laundry detergent mixing with a men’s cologne.

  “Kira, please wake up.”

  The fear and the strain in Bryan’s voice pulled her fully from the comfortable darkness. She opened her eyes and looked around. They were in what looked like a small, brightly lit medical room. An examination table sat to her right, and to her left a row of cabinets and a long counter. There was even an older African American man who looked like a doctor in a white lab coat.

  Returning her gaze to Bryan, she found she was on his lap. A thick navy-blue blanket covered her, and Bryan’s warmth cocooned her. She tried to remember how they got here, what had happened, but the last thing she could recall was getting up onto the bondage table.

  “What happened?”

  “Are you okay?” Bryan stared down at her, vacillating between worried and seriously pissed. “Why didn’t you safeword out?”

  “What?”

  The doctor moved over next to them and put a hand on Bryan’s shoulder. “Easy. Ms. Harmony, you’re in the medical center at Wicked.”

  “Wicked has a medical center?”

  “Yes, just to handle the small medical emergencies that tend to crop up during BDSM play.” He gave Bryan’s shoulder a squeeze and removed his hand. “Now, tell me, how do you feel?”

  The command in his voice helped to clear her mind. “Nauseous and weak.”

&nbs
p; “You fainted, so that’s to be expected. What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “Umm…Bryan, I mean my lord was strapping my hips down to the table, then…the last thing I clearly remember is him using the green candle on my chest. After that, it’s all muzzy. Why did I faint?”

  “Because you didn’t safeword out,” Bryan snapped. “Kira, why didn’t you say something?”

  She stared up at him, her anger kindling. “Look, I don’t know what happened, but I swear I would have used my safe word if I knew I was going to pass out. I tried to say ‘yellow,’ but I couldn’t get the words out.”

  Before Bryan could respond, the doctor interrupted. “Let’s get you up on the examination table.”

  He did a routine series of tests, asked her a bunch of questions, then took a vial of blood with Bryan glaring at them the whole time. “Ms. Harmony, I’m going to have the lab run this to see if you’re anemic. I’m pretty sure the reason you passed out is because of the excitement combined with your not eating a proper dinner.”

  When he said that last part, she felt like she’d been scolded by her dad. Pulling the blanket around her, she nodded. “I’m sorry.”

  The doctor smiled and patted her cheek. “I know you are, girl. You scared the shit out of your Master. I thought I was going to have to give him CPR when he noticed you’d checked out.”

  She glanced at Bryan, and guilt overwhelmed her. Tears burned in her eyes and then rolled down her cheeks when she blinked. “I’m so sorry, Bryan.”

  With a muttered oath, he stood and moved over to the table before gathering her in his arms. “You scared the fuck out of me, Kira. I thought I’d hurt you.”

  It had been such a wonderful, perfect evening, and she’d ruined it. She tried to tell him how sorry she was, but all that came out were muffled half words as she cried. Finally she gave up and just sobbed.

  Bryan held and rocked her, stroking her hair until her cries petered off into sniffles. Wrung out, exhausted, and still feeling slightly ill, she slumped against him. Her voice came out rough as she said, “I got your shirt all wet.”

  The doctor handed her a wad of tissues before looking at Bryan. “Take her home, make her eat something, then make sure she gets plenty of rest. Nothing too strenuous for the next day or so, and she should be fine.”

  Kira wiped her eyes and took a hitching breath. “I’m sorry. I should have eaten. This is all my fault. I ruined your evening.”

  The doctor gave Bryan a sympathetic look. “She comes out of subspace hard, doesn’t she?”

  Bryan nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well, give her lots of love tonight, and she should be just fine.” The doctor gave her a dark, intimidating look. “And you, young lady, eat before you do a scene next time, or once you’re well enough, I’ll personally paddle your ass, and you won’t like it one bit.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kira tugged at the strap to the purple silk halter top that was currently struggling to hold up her breasts. When she’d bought this dress last month for her parents’ dinner party, it had fit great, but evidently marathon sex sessions in a dungeon didn’t burn off as many calories as she’d hoped because it was extremely tight and uncomfortable now. A dull ache had started in her neck, and she rolled her shoulders, trying to ease the tension. She wished she could kick off her gold heels and sit, but she had to endure for at least another two hours until the charity auction was over.

  Her salvation hailed her from across the room in the form of Bryan returning with two glasses of wine. He moved through the crowd, pausing now and again to speak to mutual friends. They knew so many of the same people she’d been surprised they hadn’t met before Wicked. Maybe she’d seen him briefly before at some social function, then again at Wicked, and her brain had decided he was safe.

  Sliding up next to her, looking like walking sex, Bryan smiled and handed her the glass of wine. “Did I mention how much I like that dress yet?”

  She flushed and gave him a narrow-eyed look. Leaning in, she whispered, “If you tell me you want to fuck my tits tonight one more time, I’m going to have to kill you.”

  His deep rumble let her know she was in trouble before he even said a word. “When I’m fucking your tits tonight, I’ll remind you of that threat.”

  “Hey!” People looked at them, and Kira cleared her throat and smiled. “You are a dead man.”

  “Prove it.” He glanced down at his watch. “We’ve been here for three hours. Let’s go.”

  “We need to stay a bit longer.”

  “Why? We’ve had dinner with your parents, talked with your sister and her husband, and you even managed to get me out on the dance floor. I’d say I’ve more than fulfilled my duties as your escort this evening.”

  She smiled, remembering how nice it had been to waltz with him. “Bryan, there is a lovely set of gold and green Depression-era champagne flutes going up for sale. I’d like to win them, which means we have to stay for the auction.”

  The lines around his mouth deepened as he gave her his grin that meant nothing but trouble. “Stay here.”

  As soon as he was gone, a few of her casual girlfriends descended on her, asking her who he was and where she found him. She enjoyed gossiping with them, getting caught up with what was happening among her friends. While she looked forward to spending time with Bryan, she felt like they needed to have at least two days a week where they could do their own thing. As it was, they were practically living together, and neither had said the big l-o-v-e word yet. She wanted him to say it first before she told him, as silly and juvenile as it sounded. Deep down, she knew he loved her—it was in his every action and every touch—but she was pretty sure he was afraid to say it. Though he tried to hide it beneath his cool facade, his parent’s disowning him had hurt him deeply. She had a feeling he was afraid to say that he loved her. That was okay; she’d wait as long as it took for him to gather the courage to tell her.

  Kira was laughing over something a friend had said when Bryan’s energy brushed her back a moment before he touched her. His smooth, accented voice was like auditory sex as he said, “Ladies, if you’ll excuse us.”

  Her friends tittered, and she rolled her eyes at how easily they’d fallen under his spell. She really needed to make him wear sunglasses so he couldn’t enchant random women. He didn’t do it on purpose. He was just a sensual man by nature, and women seemed to pick up on it.

  Which made his open, affectionate gestures toward her in public all the more sweet.

  Waving to her friends, she let him drag her through the crowd. “Bryan, what about the glasses?”

  “I bought them.”

  She gaped at his back. “That’s cheating! It was up for auction.”

  “Yeah, well, they had a buy-it-now price, and I got it. They’ll deliver it to your house next week.”

  “You are a bad man.”

  He looked over his shoulder and winked.

  They quickly made their good-byes to her family and headed out the main door of the restaurant. As soon as their feet hit the carpeted steps, they got blinded by flashbulbs. Ah fuck, the paparazzi. She’d forgotten a bunch of movie stars were affiliated with the charity now, and with them came the photographers. Bryan squeezed her hand so hard it ached, and her heart hurt for him.

  She took the ticket stub from Bryan’s clenched hand and gave it to the valet before returning to Bryan’s side.

  Leaning up, she placed her hand on his cheek and gently turned his head from the flashing bulbs. His anger seared her, and she watched him visibly struggle to let it go. She pressed her lips ever so gently against his, sighing when he responded. While he didn’t ravage her like he would when they were alone, he did kiss her well enough that she was almost unsteady when her car arrived.

  “Hey, isn’t that the de Sade guy with Kira Harmony? Fuck, that picture just went way the fuck up in value. Jason, follow them!”

  The crowd of photographers surged toward them, barel
y held back by event security. They swarmed like sharks with the scent of blood in the water, and Kira worried that she and Bryan might be trampled. These photographers would do anything to get a picture that they might be able to sell for six figures. A security guard yelled for someone to call the police, but that didn’t stop the frenzy.

  Bryan’s face lost all of its color, and for a second, she thought he might pass out.

  She needed to get him out of here ASAP.

  The valet had to beep the horn to clear a space from the paparazzi, and the security staff was being quickly overwhelmed. The valet hopped out of Bryan’s Aston Martin, and before he could give the keys to Bryan, she snatched them.

  “Bryan, get in the car.”

  His eyes cleared for a moment. “Give me the keys.”

  “No. Get in the car.”

  He protested again, but she shoved past an overeager photographer and got in the car without responding. A few seconds later, Bryan followed suit and got into the passenger seat, his expression furious.

  “Kira, what the fuck are you doing? Your license is still suspended for another two weeks. You can’t drive.”

  A male photographer fell against Bryan’s side of the car with a thump, and she watched as a few of the photographers started to push and shove one another. This was bad, really bad. She needed to get Bryan safe. There was no way in hell she was going to let anyone hurt him.

  Anger seared through her, and she began to pull forward, the paparazzi blinding her with their camera flashes and only moving at the last second.

  If that guy falling on the door had dented the car, she was going to kick their asses and give them something to really report about.

  “Are you listening to me? Pull the fuck over! I’m not kidding!”

  Finally at a point where she was able to pull out into the street, she eased Bryan’s car forward into traffic. Two cars followed them, almost hitting in their haste to keep up with Kira. One of them, a blue sedan, cut off an incoming taxi and tailgated the car right behind Kira. From her other side, a white SUV rode up on the shoulder, earning more blaring horns.