Desired

by Stacey Kennedy

  He tucked her head against his shoulder, running his hand over her soaked back, loving that she was in his arms. While he could’ve allowed himself to believe they were becoming closer, it was an illusion. And he wanted all of her. This was an experience of sexual submission for her, but true submission ran far deeper. Now that Kyler had tasted a little show of it, he wanted the full deal.

  The only thing standing in his way was that she had to bare herself to him in total trust, and that came from being in a committed relationship. He wanted that with her. Badly. He didn’t simply want a casual D/s relationship with her that he had shared with many Club Sin submissives. Slowing his breaths to settle the racing of his heart, he wondered if Ella would eventually let him in and accept this thing between them.

  Many moments passed before Kyler’s heartbeat returned to its normal rate and Ella began to relax against him. She finally lifted her head and gave him a cute, satisfied smile. “I hope you don’t expect me to move anytime soon, because my legs will not work.”

  He laughed, and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. “We can stay here until you’re able to walk again.” Running his hands over her damp face, he cupped her cheeks and held her gaze. “Now do you doubt I know better than you how to handle your darkest desires?”

  Slowly, she shook her head. “Um, no. Apparently, you are well skilled in that regard.”

  His mouth twitched under how sweet she looked all used up, as well as that he’d proven his point. While domination went far deeper than dominating a person’s body, this was the first step to helping her understand the complexity of the lifestyle. “Tell me, how many orgasms have you had with a man during one encounter?”

  “Before you, sometimes one, sometimes none.”

  Kyler grinned at that answer. Though he also noticed that haunted look in her gaze had returned. It didn’t trouble him like it had before, because now he’d seen her without it. He knew what she looked like free of all troubles. That meant he could bring her out of it.

  Trust paved the path to her sharing that information with him, and he saw the possibility of that happening. Christ, he’d ensure it did. Brushing his fingers over her soft cheek, he asked, “Why do you think you came so much tonight?”

  She sighed, leaning in to his touch. “Because you pushed me past what I thought I could take.”

  He nodded. “That, Ella, is known as pushing limits. It’s my knowing just how far to take you.”

  She regarded him with a curious look. “And how far is too far?”

  He smiled, leaning his head against the wall. “If I touched your clit right now, I think you might be inclined to hit me.”

  Her brows furrowed. “How do you know that?”

  With a grin he knew was sure-as-shit devilish, he pushed gently on her shoulder, placing some space between. Then he dropped his hand and pinched her clit. Her eyes went huge and she screamed a sound of half annoyance and half pain.

  “Fuck.” She slapped his arm.

  He chuckled. “Told ya.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Monday morning brought a sunny day and the scorching-hot sun blazed against Ella’s shoulders. After parking her car at the office, Ella went to grab a vanilla latte at the coffee shop. With cup in hand, she strode by the Golden Nugget, and the noise from the casino spilled out into the dry, hot air, even at a quarter to nine in the morning. Her heels clicked against the sidewalk as her mind swirled back to her weekend in Club Sin.

  Her body ached in various places with each step she took. Some spots, like between her thighs, were sore from Kyler’s rough lovemaking, but her hips ached from the light bruises he’d left.

  Not that she minded.

  When she touched the tender spots on her flesh, she shivered, reminded of when he took her so passionately. Friday night with Kyler had been enough to send her into sensory overload, but the next night he’d taken her out to his truck and had sex with her right there on the hood, for all to see.

  To her disappointment, no one witnessed their lovemaking. She couldn’t quite understand why she found herself so aroused by the naughtiness of public sex, but she didn’t overanalyze it.

  All she knew was that she wanted more.

  The majority of Sunday they spent in her bed, except to order Chinese food for dinner and to watch an action flick that had kept Kyler on the edge of his seat. Then she’d gone to bed alone and read BDSM 101. If she planned to go into this lifestyle, she’d learn as much as she could first.

  She’d be educated, not looking like a deer stuck in headlights.

  When she rounded the corner, she reminded herself she hadn’t wanted a boyfriend. Yet somehow it seemed so natural with Kyler that she couldn’t stop wanting him around.

  Being around him was easy. Comfortable.

  She finally reached the law office and someone standing by the front doors caught her eye, slowing her steps. Flickers of anger and slight fear burned through her as she stared into soft brown eyes. “What are you doing here?” she asked, gritting her teeth.

  Rory raked a hand through his styled dirty-blond hair. A smile that had once charmed her crossed his face. “I had some vacation time. So, here I am.”

  “I believe I made it perfectly clear for you to stay away from me, and the restraining order proves that enough.” She crossed her arms, scanning the street. Confirming no one she knew would witness this exchange, she turned to Rory. “You shouldn’t be here.”

  The corners of his mouth tightened. “If you would just talk to me, then all this could be avoided. I wouldn’t have to go to these extremes.”

  Numerous outs to this conversation rushed through her mind, but she knew Rory and how determined he was. “Fine. Talk. You have a minute.”

  “I’m sorry, Ella,” he said softly.

  “You’ve already said that. Repeatedly. I know you’re sorry.”

  His brows rose. “Do you?”

  For a split second, the coldness in her blood faded to warmth. Rory had once been such a good guy. She knew that man still existed in him, but it was shadowed by his pain. Though knowing that didn’t make what he’d done acceptable. Far from it. “Yes, I know.”

  He looked to his boots, then asked through half-lidded eyes, “Do you forgive me?”

  Have I?

  She didn’t know, exactly—not truly. Could one ever forgive violence? “I have accepted it. I know you were drunk and that you acted differently because of it.”

  “If you know that”—he squared his shoulders, firming his voice—“then why are you shutting me out?”

  “Because we can’t ever go back.” She mirrored his posture. She would not look rattled. “I can’t ever trust you again. What kind of relationship would that be?”

  “But we could try,” he implored. “We could get help from a therapist.” He dropped his hands, thrusting out his chest. “We have history—and not all bad history, either.” Ella stepped back at his aggressive stance, and Rory’s eyes widened before he sighed. “Fuck, I don’t know how to fix this.”

  “There is nothing to fix,” she said with a tremble in her voice, not liking that fire in his eyes. “I’ve moved on.”

  “Moved on how?” His lips pressed into a grim line. “Are you dating? Does he know that you’re married?”

  “I’d be divorced if either you’d sign the uncontested divorce papers or your lawyer stopped dragging his feet,” she replied, cautious of his every move. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears with each passing second. She forced her voice to sound firm. “And I don’t see how my dating anyone is any of your business.”

  “You are not my business?” he asked with a growl.

  He had taken a step forward and Ella sideswiped him, her discomfort slowly growing. “Last warning, Rory, go home. If you come near me again, I’ll call the police to arrest you.”

  “You need to forgive me, Ella.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m staying at the MGM Grand. I’ll be there until Wednesday night. We need to fix this.”

  She held his
gaze, but stepped backward to the front entrance of the office building. “Stay away from me.” Then she booked it into the office, passing by the security guard.

  Whatever Thomas saw in her expression had him rising from his seat. The bulky man with the stern dark eyes asked, “Are you all right, Ms. Ella?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She glanced over her shoulder. Rory stood at the entrance, but he didn’t enter the building. Good. Turning to Thomas, she forced a smile. “Thank you for asking.”

  Thomas lowered to his seat, glancing to Rory. “Shall I walk you to your car after work?”

  She considered, then nodded. “Yes, I’d appreciate that. Thank you.”

  Thomas gave a warm smile. “Consider it done.”

  Ella refused to give Rory a second look. She made it to the elevators and exhaled when one waited open for her. She got in, hit the button for the fifteenth floor, and the elevator jumped, whizzing up the office building. When the door chimed and opened, Ella hurried through the waiting room and waved to the receptionist.

  She made it to her desk in 2.2 seconds and took out her cell phone, scrolling through her contacts. When she found the phone number of Rory’s best friend, Sean Collins, she clicked call, holding her breath as the phone started ringing.

  Sean answered on the third ring. “Collins.”

  “Hi, Sean. It’s Ella.”

  A pause. “Hello, Ella.”

  Oh, the contempt in his voice was cold and stiffened her back. Not a surprise. He was the first cop that showed up that night. And he was the reason Ella never pressed charges.

  She was a different woman then—wrapped up in the shock and pain of what happened. Sean had talked her out of sending Rory to jail, and at the time, she’d listened. Now was another story entirely. “Did you know Rory’s in Vegas?”

  Another pause. “No, I didn’t. Has he been around to see you?”

  “Yes, so I’m telling you to get him to go home. Now. He has broken the restraining order. If he approaches me again, even to call me, I’ll notify the Vegas police.” She knew she should call them now, but then all of this would explode in her face. Kyler would learn about her embarrassing past, and seeing Kyler at the police station and having to explain all this was the last thing she wanted to do.

  Sean’s hesitation was a little longer this time. “Is he threatening you?”

  She snorted. “He’s in Vegas and is breaking the restraining order. That is threatening enough.”

  Sean sighed. “Did you know he got himself into AA?”

  She didn’t give a flying flip if he was stone-cold sober. “Good for him. But that changes nothing. Get him to go home, Sean.”

  “I’ll do my best,” was all he said.

  Then the phone went dead.

  Which was exactly the same response she had received from all of her so-called friends. They blamed her for leaving Rory. As though she owed Rory a second chance. Now she knew better, even if their coldness stung. She thought Sean would side with her, as a cop, but all of Rory’s friends called it one screwup.

  Maybe it was.

  It still changed nothing.

  Rory was in her past, a place she wanted to keep him in forever. Whatever love she had for him was gone and could never be found again. Turning to her computer, she opened her personal e-mail account and fired off an e-mail to her lawyer. Waiting to talk to Derek was not an option anymore, not with Rory in Vegas.

  Derek,

  Rory just showed up in Vegas at my work. Please tell me that is enough of a violation of the mediation agreement to proceed with the divorce.

  All the best,

  Ella

  After his day shift, a hard rock formed in Kyler’s stomach once he’d picked up Ella after work. The tightness had developed the moment he saw her, but now, sitting in the Steak House, his stomach roiled. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what the trouble was—only that her smile looked strained and her gaze was unusually guarded.

  The clanging of a fork against a plate snapped him out of his thoughts. He glanced to Dmitri sitting next to him, and his friend laughed at something Presley joked about. The double date had been his idea, since he wanted Ella more permanently in his life.

  In the restaurant with the wood paneling on the walls and black linens on the tables, Ella looked down to her plate. “Oh my God, this steak is to die for.”

  “Mine, too.” Presley grinned.

  Kyler glanced down to his half-eaten prime rib dinner, but his stomach couldn’t handle it all. He turned to Ella and examined her. What’s wrong, sweetheart? While she laughed with Presley and they seemed to get along well, tension radiated from Ella. Whatever had happened today, it wasn’t good.

  Right then, a firm kick knocked his leg under the table. Kyler groaned, glancing at Dmitri. His friend gave him a what’s-up-with-you? look.

  If only I knew …

  Kyler grabbed his beer and took a long swig. The cool, crisp liquid eased his dry throat. While he had assumptions about her troubles, he didn’t know how to broach the subject. So, Ella, is the person abusing you still in your life? Are you running from him or her? Do you have emotional scars from the abuse? Will I harm you further if I take you into a BDSM scene?

  Not an appropriate question to ask a woman he was only just getting to know, especially when Ella had been adamant about not wanting a relationship. He held no doubt he could gain her trust to share her most private thoughts inside the dungeon. Out of it, he had no idea how to knock down this wall between them.

  It seemed unbreakable.

  Of course, he could ask her again, but any talk of her past during their telephone conversations and she shut down. He might care for her and want to fulfill her desires, but he wasn’t blind to her pain. Until she shared more about the abuse, he wouldn’t dare take her too far into a scene, whether she wanted it or not.

  How could he take a flogger to her, suspecting she’d been abused? He couldn’t. Not without knowing the effect it would have on her. Not without getting whatever plagued her out in the open. Not without her trusting him first.

  Play lightly, he reminded himself.

  Dmitri frowned at Kyler before he turned to Ella. “Do you like it here in Vegas, Ella?”

  “I do, very much.” She smiled. “It’s a crazy-ass city.”

  “I thought so, too, when I first moved here,” Presley said. “But all the lights and dazzle slowly become normal.” She cut into her steak, then asked Ella, “Do you miss Savannah?”

  “Not. At. All,” was Ella’s reply.

  Why is that? Kyler pondered.

  Why had Ella run away from there, and, more important, whom was she avoiding? He knew all her family was deceased, but to hate a place so intensely seemed odd. He asked gently, “Do you not have friends there who are missing you?”

  Ella glanced to him for a quick second before she cast her gaze downward. “Not really.” She lifted her head and gave him a fake smile. “Never had super-close friends there, I guess.”

  He didn’t like that polite smile. She battled something intense inside her and he ached for her to lean on him. He wanted her to trust him. More than anything, he craved to protect her from whoever had hurt her. Besides, how could she have no friends from her past? She was so personable. Christ, he hardly knew her and she had him smitten.

  His thought was confirmed when Presley scrunched her nose and said, “I find that hard to believe. You’re so fun.”

  Ella smiled softly. “Well, thanks. I think you are, too.”

  Kyler watched the sweet exchange. He believed Presley wasn’t placating Ella. Her face lit up around Ella, which it tended to do around most people Presley liked. She was a caring woman and showed her love for people. Kyler welcomed the idea of Ella and Presley becoming close. She couldn’t have found herself a better friend.

  Ella sipped her wine, then asked Presley, “You’re also new to the club, right?”

  Presley nodded, glancing at Dmitri with adoring eyes. “I’ve belonged for a few months n
ow.”

  Kyler couldn’t look away from Ella. He noticed the slight arch of her brow in curiosity as she watched Dmitri and Presley. In fact, Kyler had seen interest cross her expression all damn night. He assumed she was trying to understand Dmitri and Presley’s relationship.

  From the softness in her gaze, it seemed she liked what she saw. How could she not? Dmitri and Presley were a prime example of what a healthy D/s relationship looked like. That had been one of the reasons Kyler planned dinner tonight.

  He wanted Ella to see that outside of the dungeon, Dmitri and Presley were a normal couple. It made the submission element to it all a little less daunting to know it wasn’t a 24/7 type of arrangement. The other reason: He liked the idea of his friends getting to know her.

  “Did you enjoy your past weekend in the club?” Dmitri asked, grasping Presley’s hand on the table.

  Ella chuckled. “That would be a giant yes!”

  Dmitri and Presley laughed with her, but Kyler couldn’t find any amusement. He hated the façade that Ella put on. He detested that something was weighing on her, and that she hadn’t shared it with him. Or that she had no one to share it with at all.

  He would’ve preferred that she had friends in Savannah. Friends she could talk to about her problems. More than ever, he wanted her submission to prove how safe she was with him. But her lack of sharing was exactly what stopped him. Until he talked to Aidan and got a little more insight into how to broach the subject with Ella, he’d tread lightly.

  He cared for Ella.

  That brought caution.

  A warm hand pressed against his under the table. He turned to Ella, and her brows furrowed as she asked, “Are you okay? You’re pretty quiet tonight.”

  “Of course I am.” He squeezed his fingers around her hand. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

  Her face brightened and her smile was a little more honest. This he wanted for her: that free expression without hints of the tension or deep-rooted pain she kept bottled inside.