Risk & Reward (Bedroom Games)

by Alisha Rai

  He turned and started to walk away.

  Panic mixed with anger spurted through her. “Where are you going?”

  “To bed. I can take the guestroom tonight.”

  She supposed that was the equivalent of sleeping on the couch. Hell, this was a hotel. The man could have an entirely different suite, if he wanted. There were so many places for him to run to.

  “Don’t walk out on me.”

  He paused in the middle of yanking off his tie. His back was stick straight. “Don’t use that tone with me, Tatiana. I told you not to shout.”

  The warning in his otherwise emotionless voice made her reckless. God, she hated when he did that, when he made her feel like she was being hysterical and loud. “Then don’t you dare leave this room.”

  He pivoted slowly and stalked over to her, every step making her back up until the hard glass pressed against her spine. Wyatt loomed over her, the tension in his shoulders and face making him look larger than he usually did. He leaned down until his hot breath fanned over her lips. “I think I do a good job putting up with you, Tatiana. You don’t get to give me orders, too.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Put up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Men would beg to get a chance to ‘put up’ with me, Caine.”

  “I’m not men. I’m me. Don’t think you can push me around the way you do every other poor sap.”

  Her spine went rigid. “I don’t think I like the way you consider me some sort of bitch.”

  He leaned in closer. “Then stop acting like one.”

  Their breaths had gotten heavier and deeper with every word, until they were both panting. The aggression and emotion arching between them twisted into something darker. “Wyatt.” The one word was weak.

  His nostrils flared. “Yes.”

  “I’m not done discussing this.”

  His blunt finger traced the scoop of her neckline. “I told you. We need to cool off. I don’t want to talk.”

  That’s the problem.

  Her eyes flew open. Yes. That was exactly the—

  His finger dipped below the neckline and brushed her nipple, and every logical thought shot out of her brain. Damn it. Foiled by her tits. Story of her life.

  “So,” Wyatt continued. “We can either go to bed and sleep. Or we can do something else that doesn’t require words.” His fingernail scratched against her nipple, and her body heated up.

  There wasn’t even a choice. She wouldn’t get a lick of sleep if she kept these emotions bottled inside of her. There had to be an outlet, or she would literally go insane. Sex shouldn’t be the only release valve open to them. But she’d take it for now, take the pleasure, and deal with it after. She wrapped her hand around his wrist, and he stilled. One word, the first syllable of their safe word, and she knew he would back off. The bridge of trust they had between them had been started years ago. In the past seven months, it had been remodeled, renovated, but it was still there. In the bedroom, at least, their bodies listened to one another.

  She swallowed. “Standard rules.”

  “Candle” as their safe word, or she’d hit the ground three times. His reply was instant. “Yes.”

  “Wyatt.”

  “Yes?”

  “Force me.”

  “What?”

  The heat between them shot up, the two illicit words making them both breathe faster. She bridged the gap between their mouths and bit his lower lip, tugging at it. “You heard me. I want it rough.”

  His hands slid down her sides to span her waist. “I’m not sure that’s wise, after the night we’ve had.”

  “If you’re not feeling it, tell me.”

  “I didn’t—”

  She cut him off, grabbing his face between her hands. Surprise was on her side, or she’d never have been able to turn them until it was his back shoved against the glass. “Or, if you like…I can force you.”

  She kissed him again, her lips aggressive. It took him a second to catch up, but the instant he did, he slid his hands into her hair, twisting the strands between his fingers and arching her head back in an angle that was one tick away from uncomfortable. His tongue thrust into her mouth, mimicking what he would be doing soon, all too well, with his cock.

  He pulled her head away, his natural bossiness asserting itself. “I like the first plan better.”

  Aw, shucks. She wouldn’t have minded getting a little handsy with him, maybe tie him up and have him at her mercy. Though she did love it when he put her on her knees and growled out orders. “You always do.”

  “Are we…okay? With everything else?”

  He was talking about the debacle with her parents, with her clumsy feelings. Hoping, probably, that they’d never have to examine or think about it. “Later.” Or, more likely, never. But the sex would provide a distraction for now.

  Old habits.

  Shut up, brain.

  The relief on his face swiftly evaporated when she tugged at his shirt. He pushed her back a step and yanked at his tie. She loved watching him loosen that tie. The quick yet deliberate movements of his fingers as he undid the knot, the swish of silk on silk as it slid free. Like a Pavlovian response, she could see neckwear and get wet now, thanks to him.

  The two ends hung loose. He undid the first couple of buttons of his shirt with practiced flicks of his fingers. His thin, borderline-cruel lips moved, framing a single word: “Run.”

  Yes. Yes, this was what she needed.

  Lifting her skirt high, she spun around and darted through the darkened living room. The suite was large but hardly huge. The kitchen was partially enclosed, but the living room, dining room, and foyer were all part of one sprawling room. Three bedrooms extended off the main room—one office, one a guest bedroom, and one Wyatt’s bedroom.

  They were all his, really. This whole damn place, the whole building was his.

  Was she his? She didn’t know.

  With no real plan in place except that she wanted to get caught more than she wanted to run away, she darted to the front door. Wyatt had only thrown the deadbolt when they entered, so she flipped it with unsteady hands and started to open the heavy wood.

  A heavy palm slammed against the door and shoved it closed. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

  The tremble in her voice couldn’t be faked. “Away from you.”

  “You can’t get away from me. You’re stuck.”

  “Please. Please let me go.” Every plea that fell from her lips made her wetter.

  “If I let you out this door, do you know what will happen?”

  “What?”

  “I’ll have to fuck you in the hallway. Is that what you want?”

  Up against a wall. Her legs spread open, her back supported by the plaster and drywall, Wyatt’s narrow hips pistoning his cock into her.

  There was one suite on this top floor, with an elevator that could only be accessed by certain staff. But still, the elevator could open, admitting someone. “I don’t want you to fuck me,” she breathed. Lies. All lies.

  “If you’re a very good girl and suck my cock for me, maybe I won’t.”

  Her thighs tightened at the taunting words, and she nodded. “Yes. I-I can do that.”

  He spun her around and looked down at her, his eyes cold. “On your knees.”

  She slid down the door until she was on her knees, the cold marble of the entryway a delicious counterpoint to her otherwise heated body. She stroked his hard cock through the gray suit pants.

  His hand brushed over her head, an implicit promise and a threat. “Take me out.”

  Tatiana made the unbuckling of his belt and loosening of his zipper into a dance of seduction. He knew she could probably undo his clothing blindfolded, with one hand behind her back, but she infused hesitance and fumbling into the act.

  It was always an act, but one in which they could connect at a level that otherwise wasn’t possible.

  He pushed the troubling thought away. No, they connected outside the
bedroom. Tonight was a small bump in the road. They had been great until this evening, right? There was history between her parents and him, long-standing tension, and it had come to a head.

  When she’d calmed down, she’d see that there was nothing for her to be angry over. He’d done the best he could with the hand she’d dealt him. Hell, if he had to see her parents again, he would be more prepared, and they could behave like civilized adults. It wasn’t like they had to run into each other all that much.

  He and Tatiana would go back to the easy relationship they’d been in until tonight. In the meantime—he hissed when she wrapped her hand around his bare cock—he’d enjoy this mutual blowing off of steam. His hand tightened in her hair. “Suck me.”

  She obeyed, glancing up at him with a mixture of manufactured fear and true desire. Oh, he loved this game of theirs. Each order he gave made his cock swell, and every time she acquiesced made his heart do the same.

  She was on her knees in front of him, wanting him enough to obey his every command because it made her burn. He couldn’t find a more perfect mate.

  So you can’t lose her again.

  Anxiety made his voice rougher. “If you don’t make this good, I’ll have to fuck you.”

  Her lashes fluttered down to make dark crescents on her cheek as she leaned forward and drew the tip of his dick into her mouth. Her eye makeup had smudged, and her lipstick had stained her lips red. With her breasts plumped up over the neckline of her dress and her cheeks hollowing with every tentative suck of her lips on the head of his cock, she looked like a debauched socialite, a ruined woman.

  Ruined by his hands, his fantasy whispered. Even if reality told him her depravity was firmly in her own control.

  His breath came faster, and his thumbs caressed her cheekbones. “You can do better than this.” Gripping her head tight, he gave her a few inches more, keeping his motions controlled and shallow.

  Tatiana pulled away. “Too rough,” she gasped, an almost whine in her words.

  He twined his hands in her hair and tilted her face up. “You haven’t seen it rough yet, love.”

  Her little pink tongue flicked out nervously. “Haven’t I?”

  A dare as much as it was a question. He held her steady and breached her mouth again, allowing her to suck at him. He thrust into her mouth until he could feel her throat close around the tip of his cock. She could deep throat him—he knew she could—but that would kill the fantasy. So instead of stopping her gag reflex, she let it come, let the smooth muscle convulse around him.

  Fucking her face sent him to some perfect nirvana where he lost track of time and space. All that mattered was the hot, tight wetness surrounding his dick, the silken strands of her hair tangled around his fingers, the smooth skin of her cheeks beneath her thumbs. He glanced down and studied the perfect crescents of her lashes, made darker and longer by some feminine trick.

  “Use your hands. Jack me off.”

  Her lashes fluttered, and she obeyed, wrapping one hand around him to work the part of the shaft she couldn’t swallow, the other reaching under to cradle his balls. His spine tingled as she fondled the sensitive flesh. “Good girl. Play with my balls.”

  She squeezed a little harder, and he grunted, a tingling in the base of his spine telling him he was close. Her mouth retreated, and though he knew she was merely following the rhythm he had set, he held her tight.

  “Don’t move.” One thrust, two, and he was undone, giving a low moan as the pulses of his release shuddered through him.

  His cock was still hard when it slipped from her lips, the sight of his semen spilling out of her mouth keeping his arousal at a slow simmer. He staggered back a step, his hanging belt buckle hitting his thigh.

  Tatiana delicately wiped away the come from the corner of her lips and gave him a powerful, smug smile. Right before she came to her feet and darted out the front door.

  Chapter Six

  Tatiana’s heart beat accelerated when the front door closed behind her. No point in running…she wanted him to catch her.

  Still, her steps toward the elevator quickened when she heard the door open and his heavy tread. It took him a few long strides to catch up with her, and then he had her wrist clenched tightly in his hand. He drew them forward a couple more steps before pushing her up against the wall.

  “What,” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, “do you think you’re doing?”

  “Why? Are you angry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” she muttered, breaking the game enough to let her true emotions shine through.

  An incredulous silence. “Did you say good?”

  “Yes. Good.” She couldn’t verbalize why it was good. But she wanted him mad. Furious even. She took a deep breath and slipped back into character. “You said you would let me go if I sucked you off.”

  “I never said that.”

  “I want to go home,” she lied.

  “That’s not an option.” He licked her ear, not tender or seductive, but a rough swipe of ownership. “I’m going to fuck you. Your choice if you want to enjoy it. And where. I’m fine in the hallway too.”

  She started to struggle, and he leaned in close, trapping her. “You’re forgetting. There are people watching the entire building. Including this floor.”

  She stilled, her eyes flicking up at him.

  “Funny enough, there’s a blind spot right here.” He nodded at either end of the hallway. “About a five-foot gap none of the cameras cover. A silly oversight I’ve been meaning to fix since I found out about it, but it hasn’t been a priority.” His voice dropped, became menacing. “You move three feet to the left or two feet to the right and anything we do will have some interested viewers. You know how vigilant my security is.” He slid his hand down her side, over the curve of her ass. “They’d see me tear this pretty, expensive dress off. Rip your panties. Get inside you and drill you into the wall.”

  The oxygen had left her brain, leaving her lightheaded and dizzy. “They would come and help me.”

  His laugh was mean and sadistic. “No. They wouldn’t dare. They know I own you. No one would save you.” He gripped her ass. “This is mine. Your tits, your pussy, your ass, you’re all mine.”

  His hand slid to the small of her back, and he pressed until she was flush against the wall. “What do you want? Want to try to run? Maybe, after we’re done, I can invite them up. Have a little party. They can watch me fuck you live.”

  She imagined multiple men’s eyes on her, watching as Wyatt used her, despoiled her in a hallway. His woman, in the building he essentially owned.

  She shuddered. Yes, she wanted that. But the fact that Wyatt paid their salaries made it both hotter and impossible. Their fantasies occupied a very definite niche in their lives, a quiet, secretive one.

  Now, if they were in some different place? And the ones who were watching were strangers? Well. That was a fantasy that could be explored another time.

  “Make your choice. It’s the last one you’ll have all night.”

  “I don’t want this.”

  His expression didn’t alter. In the bright hallway lighting, he looked foreign, some stranger inhabiting Wyatt’s large, strong body. “Too late. This is what you get. Sex show or not?”

  “Not. I-I don’t want anyone to see.” So many lies.

  “Good choice.” His hands went to the bodice of her dress. As he had earlier in the evening, he grabbed the material and yanked it lower so her breasts spilled out. Her nipples were already tight, ready for his hands and mouth.

  His gaze was cold as he looked down and surveyed her, a master checking his goods. “You say you don’t want me to fuck you. Why are your nipples so hard?”

  “It’s chilly.”

  His fingers pinched her chin, and he forced her to meet his gaze. “You liar. You want this.”

  “No.”

  His thumb pressed enough to open her mouth. Two of his fingers shoved inside, thrusting shallow. Unable to resist, sh
e brought her teeth down on his flesh, not breaking the skin, but reminding him that she could.

  He cursed and removed his hand, lips firming. “Oh, Tatiana. You are so fucked.”

  Yes, yes, yes.

  Fisting large handfuls of her skirt, he hauled the silky material up. “Hold it.”

  Her fingers complied, bunching the material up farther so her white thong was revealed. She didn’t know what she expected—for him to open his own hurriedly zipped trousers and fuck her, or maybe spin her around and do the same. Instead, he sank to his knees and yanked her panties down until they pooled around her ankles.

  His palms slapped against her thighs and widened her stance as much as her stretched thong would allow, and then his tongue and lips and mouth were on her naked pussy. She groaned and leaned her head back against the wall, her fingers biting into the skirt of the dress.

  Wyatt was a master at giving head. There was no tentativeness, no asking permission, he just fucking went for it, seeming to delight in the taste and feel of her sex. His nose rubbed against her clit as his jaw worked, thrusting his firm tongue into her channel. She glanced down and could see his biceps flexing as he worked his cock. She wished they were on a bed so they could properly 69.

  He drew away and tugged at the hair on her mound, pulling at her sensitive, wet flesh. “I love this,” he murmured, his voice dreamy, breaking character for a brief second.

  She did the same. “I thought guys liked it bare.”

  “Normally I don’t care how the fuck a woman decorates her pussy as long as I can get inside it. But this.” He tugged again, harder this time, and leaned in to scrape the stubble on his jaw over her clit. She yelped, her legs turning wobbly as pleasure shot through her. “I like that you didn’t change it. It makes me feel like I’m nineteen again.”

  The wistfulness in his voice made her heart pulse. She scratched her hand through his hair, and a deep rumble came from his chest.

  They had tender sex, but at the moment that didn’t jive with the emotions roiling inside her. She used her grip on his head to bring him forward to her pussy. In a show of rare subservience, he let her, sliding his slippery tongue back inside, fucking his face against her, his nose bumping against her clit. She returned to clutching her skirt, out of his way while he ate her out in the hallway of his hotel. Her head lolled to the side, and she eyed the elevator not far from them. A ding—that’s all the notice they would have if someone were to come up and catch them in the act.