Club Alpha: BDSM Romance Boxed Set

by Amy Valenti

  The snap of the crop against her skin wasn’t quite as much of a surprise, but it didn’t hurt any less. She gasped, the pain sharp and biting. Then Wesley’s hand was touching her, caressing her, soothing the pain.

  Along with soothing the pain, his touch fanned the fire inside her, the heat between her legs melding with the pain on her skin. Just like at his apartment, his touch blunted the pain, but made it more intense at the same time.

  Wesley took his hand away and she braced for another stroke of the riding crop. She tensed, waiting, and then it came. She cried out, not caring if it was breaking obedience or not. Wesley’s hand was on her skin, lovingly caressing her. When he pulled his hand away this time, she moaned, aching for him to continue. There was a long moment where all she could hear was Wesley, moving behind her, and her own breathing.

  The blows began again, faster, less time between them, less time Wesley’s hands were on her, caressing her, soothing her. The pattern of the blows was random, spread over her ass, the back of her thighs, a few peppering her calves.

  The pain from the individual blows blurred into one mass of heat, of pain. Straining against the restraints, her body pressed against the arms of the cross, she let her head fall back, her cries escalating as Wesley continued raining blows on her flesh.

  Then everything stopped. Scarlett sagged against the restraints, gasping for breath. Her body burned with desire, and the sudden absence of pain was equal parts relief and frustration.

  Behind her she caught the sound of Wesley’s heavy breathing. She turned her head, trying to figure out where he was. He sounded close.

  His hands landed on her waist, sliding down to her hips. She smiled, her body thrumming at his touch, her hips swaying from side to side. She wanted to lean back, to push against him, feel more than just his breath and his hands on her body.

  Before she could move, she felt Wesley’s breath in the middle of her back, then the touch of his lips on her heated skin. She stifled a moan as he moved lower, kissing the small of her back, moving lower, off to the left, his kisses soothing her skin in a deliciously different way.

  His hands cupped her ass, squeezing, kneading her as his lips trailed lower. His kisses were hot, the dampness left behind cooled her. She was writhing under his touch, aching for more, wanting him inside her.

  “Wesley…”

  His fingers were probing between her legs, tugging at the thong, pulling it away from her wet, swollen folds. She was quivering, waiting for him to touch her, hoping against hope he’d continue.

  He did. His fingers moved further between her legs, probing into her, rubbing against her clit. Her body was suddenly on overload, poised on the edge, ready for him to fuck her. She wanted him, wanted his cock inside of her. Silently she willed him to read her mind, to take her, hard and fast.

  But he was still touching her, rubbing her, stroking her with his fingers, but only lightly. Her hips had picked up his rhythm, rocking back and forth. She bit her lip, her body demanding more, afraid if she said anything he’d take away what she did have.

  His touches grew feather-soft, teasing her, tormenting her. She wanted to grind down on his hand, make him touch, but the more she moved, the further away he felt.

  She was moaning in frustration now, arching her back, seeking any kind of contact. Then he was gone, his hands no longer touching her anywhere.

  “Wesley, damn it.” She turned her head from side to side, frantically trying to get a sense of where he’d gone. “Fuck me, Wesley. Please.” She’d never asked a man to fuck her, never used that word out loud. But she’d never been tied to a Saint Andrew’s cross by anyone either.

  “No.” His voice was very close to her ear. His hands were on her waist, sliding up her body, coming to rest beneath her breasts, cupping them. Slowly, deliberately, he fondled her, running his fingers over the thin fabric of her bra, pinching her nipples. They drew up hard and tight, and a sharp spear of electricity ran through her. She pulled hard against the restraints, trying to force herself against him.

  “Please, Wesley…I’m so ready. Aren’t you? You have to be.”

  “No.” The edge she’d heard the night before was back.

  “No, what? You’re not ready? You’ve got to be kidding.” She was panting, almost desperate. “Why not? What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to play the game, Scarlett. Stop fighting me. Trust me.”

  “I don’t know how.” Her voice came out half angry cry, half sob. “I don’t know how to do what you want.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” He took his hands away, leaving her almost dizzy with desire.

  The thought of stopping now seemed like the worst thing in the world. “No. But…I want… I need…please, Wesley. I need you. I need more, now.”

  There was silence behind her. She strained to hear any noise, but even the sound of his breathing was gone.

  “Wesley?”

  “I’m here.”

  He was behind her, his hands suddenly on her shoulders, moving up to caress the back of her neck. Rough denim pressed against her ass and she could feel his erection, hot and hard, behind the material.

  “Scarlett, do you trust me?”

  “I…yes. I do.”

  His fingers ran up to the base of her skull, working into the knot of hair he’d pinned up earlier.

  “Do you believe me when I tell you I only want you to enjoy yourself?” His voice was low, seductive, ten different kinds of sexy. The sound of it alone could have taken her over the edge.

  “Yes.”

  His lips brushed against her neck, hot, insistent. The rest of his body was held against hers, his chest against her back, his hips pressing harder against her ass. Wesley rubbed his hips against her, the denim making her skin sting.

  “Can you let go, let me take control? I promise you won’t regret it.”

  “I’m not sure…I’m not sure I know how.”

  Suddenly his hands were gone, along with the warmth of his skin against her back, the press of denim against her ass.

  “Then maybe you’re not ready for this.” His voice was matter of fact, the sexy edge gone. He could have been asking her for coffee, not discussing what he was going to do to her while she was tied almost naked on a cross.

  There was a tug against the back of her head and then the blindfold fell away. She blinked in the light. Wesley was standing in front of her.

  “I don’t want to force you, Scarlett. Really.”

  “I’m sorry…”

  “Don’t apologize. You haven’t done anything wrong. This isn’t for everyone.”

  Wesley reached for the restraint on her right wrist. She watched as he undid the buckle, holding her arm as the restraint fell away.

  “Let your arm down slowly. Your shoulder might be sore, especially since you were tied up last night.”

  Gently he lowered her arm, watching her the entire time. When she pulled away from him, he let go, reaching for her other arm. Then he walked behind her, kneeling down to unfasten her ankles.

  “Don’t try to walk yet. You might be a little wobbly.”

  She turned around, her legs unsteady. Her muscles felt like she’d run a marathon, and she staggered briefly. Wesley was standing, shirtless, and he reached out, grabbing her elbow. “You feel okay? Come on and sit down.”

  He took her hand, pulling her toward an overstuffed couch against one wall. She sat, dimly aware of the rough fabric against her sensitive skin, drew a breath and then her body started shaking. Wesley reached behind her, pulling a blanket from the back of the couch, wrapping it around her shoulders. She looked up at him, suddenly scared by her body’s reaction, by the abrupt end of the session.

  “You’re fine, Scarlett.” He put one arm around her shoulder and she sagged against him. “Lots of times you’ll get the shakes. You’re fine.”

  They sat for a minute, Wesley rubbing her shoulder. Gradually she stopped shaking. After a few minutes she worked up the courage to say what was on
her mind.

  “We didn’t have sex, Wesley.”

  “No, we didn’t. Not every time ends with sex, Scarlett. Sometimes it’s enough to just play.”

  “But I thought…this isn’t what you expected? Aren’t you disappointed?”

  “I didn’t have any expectations, Scarlett. How could I? I’ve never done any role playing with you. You’ve never done this before. All I wanted was what you asked, to show you the club, try a few things that you seemed to like last night. I didn’t expect sex.”

  She raised an eyebrow as she glanced down at his jeans, the bulge of his erection still very evident. “You could have fooled me.”

  Wesley shifted under her gaze, a smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t say I wasn’t aroused. You’re a very beautiful girl, Scarlett. And what we did was very erotic.” He leaned toward her. “You’re very arousing. I let myself experience how being with you…what I did to you…made me feel. I didn’t hold back, but I remained in control.”

  He was very close and Scarlett felt his breath against her cheek. She tilted her head, lips parted. She closed her eyes in expectation.

  “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, 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 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. 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.
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  “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 sunk 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.