Black Light_Roulette Redux

by Livia Grant

  “My driver.” He leads me up the stairs and sure enough, a black limo is waiting outside the psychic shop. He holds the door open for me, then goes around to the other side.

  I probably should be worried. My initial impression of Victor was mafia and now he’s just helped me into a hundred thousand dollar car. But I can’t dredge up any fear of Victor or the situation. Especially when he turns an intensely concerned look on me and strokes my cheek with the backs of his fingers.

  Fuck, I’ve never had tenderness from a man. The men I’ve dated were babies, whining and complaining. Or cracking jokes.

  This man has blown open every ingrained belief I had about men and sex. And what I like.

  “What happened, baby?” he asks softly.

  I draw a shaky breath. “I’m sorry. I just lost my shit.”

  He puts his fingers to my lips to stop me. “No. Not sorry. You don’t need to apologize for anything. I just need to know what’s going through your head. What upset you? I want to know what I did so it never happens again.”

  I skip over his assumption there’s going to be an again. “You didn’t do anything wrong. In the moment, it was incredible.” I’m not the blushing type, but I’m pretty sure my cheeks turn pink. “You were right—I was really into it.”

  “But?”

  “Then afterward, I just freaked out about what I’d done. I don’t know, I put the wrong frame on it—like how that kind of scene would be horrible if it was a real-life scenario and what it said about me that I liked it. And then Sara looked so worried, and I just fell apart.”

  He pulls me onto his lap and strokes my back. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I would never, ever disrespect you or hurt you. And I know you wouldn’t let anyone disrespect or hurt you.”

  With the last comment, my normal confidence returns.

  Right.

  I flipped about what we did and what it meant about me. I judged Sara for being submissive, and then I found out I liked some brand of submission too. It’s doing a number on my head. But that doesn’t mean I’d cave anywhere else. That I’m weak.

  “There’s also a brain-chemistry component that can cause this kind of dip after a scene,” Victor says gently.

  I remember Sara’s explanation about sub-drop, and it all makes sense. I also appreciate the fact that Victor didn’t just assume it was sub-drop and skip over my thoughts and feelings.

  I tuck my face into his neck and melt into him, allowing myself to be soothed.

  His large hand coasts up and down my back and he kisses my jaw, my temple, my neck.

  “So…where are we going, and is this your car?”

  He chuckles. “It’s a business car. I run a private security firm. And I just told him to drive around. I thought you might need a change of scene.”

  I relax a little more. “You were right. And security, huh? Like a bodyguard?”

  He nods. “Yes. We provide protection for high profile clients.”

  I’m suddenly fascinated. And trying not to be. I can’t see this man again. I can’t. He makes me lose all control.

  As if he reads my thoughts, he catches my chin. “Baby, I know tonight threw you for a loop. I’m so fucking sorry I took you somewhere you might not have been ready to go. But I need you to know that I’m way into you. I want to see where we could go with this chemistry between us.”

  Chemistry. He’s talking about sex. Which, admittedly, was incredible. But Black Light isn’t my kind of place.

  He heads off my thinking.

  “I mean beyond scening together. Beyond hooking up. Mariana, in the space of one night, you renewed all my belief in relationships. Hell, I’d even swear it was love at first sight, but I don’t want to scare you off. All I know is, it’s gotten stronger every minute I’m with you.”

  I suddenly have way too much air in my chest.

  “I get the feeling it’s mutual, baby. Tell me I’m right.”

  I manage to nod. “Yeah.” I sound hoarse. “It’s mutual. But I don’t even live here.”

  He shrugs. “So I’ll fly to Brooklyn. You’ll fly here. We’ll try it out. No obstacle is unsurmountable.”

  His confidence is so freaking attractive.

  I let out a shaky laugh. “Okay, maybe. I’m actually between careers right now.”

  His eyes light up. “Great. Because I was picturing you as a partner at my firm.”

  I scoff. “After two hours you’re ready to share your business with me?”

  His lips twitch. “Pretty close. Are you interested enough to see me again?”

  “Yeah.” The remaining shakiness in me disappears. For the first time since we sold the restaurant, I’m interested in hearing more about something. Maybe this is a good fit for me. Maybe it’s not. But there’s no harm in checking it out.

  Victor tunnels his hands in my hair, nips my shoulder. “Thank you.”

  I lean against him, surprised how comfortable I feel.

  “I know this great little coffee shop and they’re open all night.” He surprises me with this pronouncement. If I had any reservations that he’s only after sex, they completely disappear.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah. And they have these amazing éclairs. Wanna try one?”

  I can’t stop the ridiculously huge smile from spreading across my face. “Yeah, I do.”

  “Great.” He leans forward and gives his driver the directions. His arm tightens around my waist and a smug expression crawls over his face.

  “Don’t think you have me yet,” I warn.

  He laughs, a deep rumble that warms me to my toes. “Oh, I don’t. But I’m willing to work every minute until I do, baby. And then I’m going to work every minute to make sure you know I’m worth sticking around for.”

  I angle my face to take his mouth, not surprised when he immediately responds, grasping the back of my head and holding me captive. He schools me with the kiss, reminds me how much he likes being in charge.

  How much I like it, too.

  Yes, a voice in my head asserts herself loudly. This.

  Whatever comes next between Victor and I, I’m signing up for it. I don’t want to miss out on anything he has to show me.

  Epilogue

  Three months later

  Mariana

  “I told you I’d get the boxes, baby.” Victor grabs the carton from my arms and sets it down on top of the three he just carried all at once up the stairs to his loft apartment.

  I want to snatch it back just to hide my face. Moving in together is a huge step, and I still can’t believe I agreed to it. After spending the last couple months working for Victor—with Victor, as he insists—but living with Sara, I decided to take the plunge.

  It’s not like I wasn’t spending every night here anyway. But seeing the boxes of my things in his place makes it all so real.

  As usual, Victor guesses what’s going through my head. He hooks an arm around my waist and pulls my body up against his.

  His lips find my neck, teeth graze the skin there. “Are you going to stay here willingly, or do I have to chain you to my bed?”

  As always, when he starts threatening force, my knees go weak, panties dampen.

  “You can try to return to your sister’s place.” He backs me up against the couch and fits the bulge of his erection in the notch between my legs. “Or to Brooklyn.” He rolls his hips, giving me the full preview of his excitement for me. “But I’ll always come for you. I’ll just drag you home, tie you up, and fuck you into the long hours of the night.”

  I grind down on him, a trembling already starting in my limbs.

  He spins me around and works the button open on my jeans as his cock presses against my ass. “You’re about to get yourself fucked over the back of the couch.” He works a hand down my panties and palms my pussy.

  I moan.

  One of his hands cages my throat. I gurgle as it closes, jerk my hips mindlessly. I freaking love the helplessness of surrendering to Victor’s control. He makes
it easy by always delivering mind-blowing pleasure. Always tuning into my emotions, my responses.

  He shoves my jeans and panties down with one hand, never releasing my neck. He’s not really choking me, but I love feeling overpowered.

  Within seconds, he’s in me, thrusting with hard, firm strokes, bowing my back with the gymnastics of it.

  “V-Victor,” I rasp, my eyes already rolling back in my head.

  “Yeah?” His voice is rough and deep.

  “More.” It’s hard to believe I could take more; he’s plowing into me with enough force to scoot the sofa along the floor each time, but it feels so. Damn. Good.

  He releases my neck to grasp both my elbows, pulling them back, like I’m his prisoner, using them to leverage his cock deeper and harder into me with every stroke.

  I let out a broken sob, so close. “Need,” I beg.

  “I fucking know what you need,” he grits out.

  He does.

  He gives it to me, blinding me with desperation.

  I hurl one, long continuous moan at him, until he thrusts deep.

  The moment he comes, my orgasm follows, muscles milking his cock as I chant his name.

  And then, somehow, we’re on the couch and I’m in his arms. He kisses and nips me back to reality as my body melts into a boneless puddle against him.

  He cups my mons and rubs, as if I need more attention there. “You gonna be my sex prisoner?”

  “Yeah,” I pant, surprised how fast the life is coming back into my body, ready for more.

  I never grow tired of this game, and he continues to find new ways to force me. And new places. Like in the car on the way to work. Over his big walnut desk. On the kitchen table. On the floor. Up against the wall. Tied to his bed.

  “I think you should take the role of president of the company,” Victor says, still sliding his fingers in my slippery folds.

  “Wait, what?” I shove his hand away, which earns me a fresh round of wrestling. This time, Victor pulls both my knees in the air and spanks my pussy three times.

  Christ. I’m vibrating with need again.

  “Listen up or I’ll have to spank that pussy until it’s swollen and sore, and then I’ll fuck it again.”

  I shiver, my pussy squeezing.

  “I want you to be president of the company. I think clients will find us even more trustworthy and appealing with a female at the helm.”

  I started just helping Victor out, while I took a few business classes at the community college and tried to figure out what to do with my life. That lasted about a week.

  The more involved I got, the more the work brought out my competitive, driven side, and I wanted to take charge of things. Now I run every new client interview, and do all the matching of clients with bodyguards. I also manage scheduling and payroll.

  “You can’t just let me run your company,” I splutter.

  “I’m not giving it to you; I’m hiring you for a position.”

  He lifts my legs and delivers three more spanks to my girly bits, rendering me incapable of speech, even if I knew what to say. “We’ll start on a trial basis. See how we both like it.”

  This is how he ropes me in. He knows exactly what to say to get me to cave to his every demand.

  Before I can protest anymore, he captures my mouth with his, dominating me with a searing kiss. “Say yes, Mariana,” he murmurs when it’s over, dropping all pretense of forcing me into anything.

  How can I refuse? I have a million fears, but none of them are as real as the moments I’m with him.

  I nod my head jerkily. “Okay.”

  He flashes that smug smile I adore and my heart double-beats. I kiss him this time, hooking my arm around his neck and slanting my lips over his.

  It’s hard to believe I ended up here. Hot man. New career. Life full of possibilities. And it all happened because my baby sister admitted to wanting a spanking.

  The End

  About the Author

  USA Today Bestselling Author Renee Rose is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky romance. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won The Romance Reviews Best Historical, Sci-Fi and BDSM awards, Spanking Romance Reviews‘ Best Historical, Erotic, Ageplay and favorite author, and was a finalist for The BDSM Writer’s Con Golden Flogger award. She’s hit #1 on Amazon in multiple categories in the U.S. and U.K., is often found on the list of Amazon’s Top 100 Authors. Grab six free books for FREE here.

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  Doctored

  A Black Light: Roulette Redux Novella

  By

  Sue Lyndon

  Chapter 1

  Hunter Knox. Holy hell. Natalie held the RSVP list of the Urban Green Society’s Winter Ball in shaking hands, staring at the renowned real estate mogul and former governor of Virginia’s name. Her stomach flipped, and dizziness swept over her. If she hadn’t already been sitting down, she would’ve swayed to the floor. She hadn’t seen him in years, but if she closed her eyes, she could still smell his masculine woodsy scent and feel the enticing heat of his body as he stood beside her.

  She touched the paper, tracing the letters of his name. Anticipation curled inside her at the prospect of coming face to face with the man who’d not only trampled her father at the polls several years ago, but had also once upon a time starred in a good number of her masturbatory fantasies.

  He had to know she worked for the UGS and would likely be in attendance. Her heart raced as she pondered the reasons for his buying a ticket to the swanky event. Invitations automatically went out to senators, congressmen, governors, and celebrities who championed environmental issues. No longer a sitting governor, he hadn’t been sent an invitation this year. However, anyone with five thousand dollars to spare could purchase a ticket online.

  The charity ball was six weeks away. She had time to formulate a game plan, though it wouldn’t look good if the Urban Green Society’s very own event planner didn’t attend the biggest fundraiser of the year.

  She shoved the RSVP list into a folder in her desk, trying to push away thoughts of the most inconvenient man she could’ve once, possibly, had a crush on. Not that he had reciprocated her feelings. Or if he had, he’d never said anything.

  Not like he could’ve asked you out on a date anyway, genius.

  The need to escape the capital compelled her to look at the weather forecast on her phone.

  More bad news.

  She sighed and ran a hand through her long dark locks. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she absently rubbed the bandaged cut on her thumb, weighing her options.

  Leave D.C. now and attempt to make it home to her cabin on the Blue Ridge Parkway before the snowfall started, or stay put in the city for another week, thus not risking life and limb?

  A deep longing for her peaceful fortress in the woods reverberated in her chest. She wanted nothing more than to be home at this very moment, miles away from civilization. Home meant safety. Freedom from the stares and whispers that often followed her. Shelter from the flashing of camera phones and unwanted questions from reporters.

  But the storm was moving North fast, and the memory of getting caught in a blizzard only a few miles from home and stranded in a ditch this past New Year’s Eve prompted her reluctant decision to remain in the capital for a while longer.

  Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. She could indulge in a few more nights at the Overtime BDSM club, before heading back to Virginia. She squirmed in her seat, enjoying the lingering sting of the hard paddling session she’d endured the night before.

  Mental images of Hunter Knox wielding the paddle visited her, remnants of unrealized fantasies rushing back at her from the mists of the past. She’d never kissed the man, let alone surrendered to him, but she used to long for him to tame her. Longed for him to hold her down and have his way with her
, scolding her and punishing her soundly if she didn’t follow his orders fast enough. She didn’t know if he was a dom, but she had a sneaking suspicion he might be into the scene, which had only fueled her fantasies harder.

  The heat in the office kicked on with a hum, and a second later, she felt the rush of warmth from the vent located above her desk. Her gaze drifted upward, to the festive red and pink paper hearts that were dangling from the ceiling and now swaying in the rush of air. Great. She would still be stuck in the city during the most romantic time of the year. Valentine’s Day. She pushed a sudden pang of loneliness away and rolled her eyes at the decorations.

  She set her phone down and glanced around the open floor plan of the UGS, hoping no one had witnessed her recent fidgeting, just in time to spot a group of her coworkers headed straight for her desk. All grinning and tittering with excitement. Her stomach flipped, but she calmed herself with a deep breath. The likelihood of any of her coworkers knowing the reason for her squirming, or how she preferred to spend her evenings while in D.C., was pretty nil.

  The director of the environmental nonprofit, a tall, elegant middle-aged woman named Helena Matherson, who’d once been married to a congressman, walked in the center of the gathering. She held a tray of elegantly decorated cupcakes, likely purchased from the gourmet bakery across the street. A few lit candles stuck out of a cupcake in the center of the arrangement. Her birthday wasn’t for two more months, so what the—

  “Happy five-year work-a-versary, Natalie!” the group said, answering her unspoken question as they made a bumbling attempt to speak in unison.

  Though caught off guard, Natalie pasted on her best former-pageant-star smile and made sure to meet the eye of every coworker who’d come to wish her congratulations. After all, they meant well. She telecommuted most of the time, but on the rare occasion when she came to D.C. for a few days, she was always blown away by the warm, welcoming atmosphere of the nonprofit. No one here had ever treated her like a pariah, let alone whispered or pointed or cast a judgmental look in her direction.