Savage Rhythm (Club Volare)

by Cox, Chloe

  She needed permission.

  Declan picked up the pace, the realization making him insane. He would tell her to come, and she would, and he fucking knew it. He had the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen thrusting on top of his hand, looking into his eyes, begging him to give her what she needed, and it was almost more than he could bear.

  “You are so fucking beautiful,” he said. “Everything about you, Molly, is beautiful.”

  She blinked, and those tears gathered on her eyelashes, trembling while the rest of her shook. He put his free hand on her hip, his thumb pressing into the muscles right above her pubic area, and added another finger inside her. Then he pushed aside her folds, put his naked thumb on her clit, and gave her an order.

  “Come for me.”

  He stroked her everywhere once, twice, watching those big brown eyes get even bigger, and then she screamed, her muscles bearing down on him, drawing him in deeper while she came all around him. She pulled on those cuffs while her legs squeezed around him, nearly pulling herself up, running away from it again. He held her fast and kept going, watching her face, feeling everything she felt. She kept coming, so much stronger than he would have guessed, and when the look of surprise on her face finally passed into bliss and she slumped over, her head against his, she murmured, “Thank you.”

  She had no idea what was coming next.

  chapter 14

  Oh my God.

  Her body was boneless, weightless, full of light and sparkling air. What the hell was that? How had that even…? At some point he’d uncuffed her wrists and thrown her arms around his neck, holding her up against him with his arms, and she’d just lain against him without the strength to do much of anything besides wait for her vision to go back to normal.

  He’d looked her in the eyes the whole time.

  Molly would have sworn that would have killed it, would have made it impossible to get off, made her feel too vulnerable and exposed in a way that she was still scared to feel. But then he’d ordered her to, and it was like there was no choice.

  Oh God, it had been so good.

  She giggled into his neck, thinking about all the other things she fantasized about, thinking maybe, maybe…could she tell him? And he’d think it was beautiful? He’d demanded honesty. She couldn’t deny him that.

  She probably couldn’t deny him anything anymore. Not after that. She laughed and nibbled at his ear, grinding herself against him just to feel the impossible hardness of his cock again. This was like a vacation from real life, from the limitations of being a real person—there was no way normal people felt like this, this free, this happy, not all the time—and now that she had a taste there was no way she could fight it anymore.

  “That was incredible,” she said into his ear. She couldn’t stop herself from smiling.

  “I told you to keep your eyes on me,” he said, gently peeling her off of his body. His eyes were shining, but he was shaking his head. “I was already thinking I owed you a spanking for all the crap you put me through the last few days. Don’t push it.”

  Molly was on her back again, with Declan kneeling between her spread legs. Every time he brought that up—spanking, like actual spanking—she felt a little thrill of excitement and simultaneous disbelief. There was some part of her that just did not believe he would do it, but if he did…

  She smiled at the thought. She hadn’t quite come down from that orgasm, and thoughts like that were going to send her right back to lalaland. In theory.

  Anyway, he was wearing way too much clothing. She’d felt that monster underneath her. She wanted to get a look at it before she felt it inside her, maybe find some way to equalize things between them even a little bit, since she was still naked. She could feel her natural embarrassment start to creep back at the edges, and to fight it off she sat up quickly, determinedly, and went for the button on Declan’s jeans.

  He caught her hand.

  “What part of ‘I am in control’ was confusing to you?” he asked her. Now it was Declan’s turn to smile. “I tell you I’m thinking about spanking your ass red and you pull this topping from the bottom crap again. I think you want it.”

  Molly’s jaw dropped as every embarrassed, humiliated neuron in her brain fired at once. “No,” she said.

  But also yes.

  Oh, help me. Yes.

  Declan still had hold of her hand in his. Now he looked down at her nipples, already turning hard again, traitorous little pieces of flesh that they were.

  “You have a safeword,” he said casually. Unconcerned.

  And then he pulled her with him while he sat on the edge of the bed.

  Molly laughed lightly. Laughter had always been a nervous reaction for her, the thing she did when she didn’t know what else to do. It had gotten her in trouble so many times already.

  And now Declan scowled.

  “Over my knee,” he ordered.

  “You’re not serious,” she said. “I mean, I know…but you’re not serious.”

  Slowly, Declan pulled her toward him. She could see he was enjoying this. So was she, even if she couldn’t quite believe it. Didn’t want to believe it? She’d thought she was done fighting this, but there was something in her that just hadn’t given in.

  “What did you think domination meant, Mol?” he said with that same casual tone.

  She didn’t say anything. What was there to say? She had agreed. She had a safeword. She just didn’t want to say it. And yet she couldn’t imagine going through with…

  “You’re still resisting all of it,” he said simply. “That’s gonna stop right now.”

  She was kneeling at his side now, and he reached across with his other hand to grab her other arm.

  “One more chance.” He was grinning. “Over my knee, Molly. Now.”

  Why was she resisting? Just a stubborn, knee jerk reaction? Molly thought back to the elation she felt when he had her restrained, his fingers working in her, what had happened when she realized it didn’t matter if she fought it. It had been incredible. And here she was again, fighting just because the idea of giving up control made her stomach flip and her throat get tight and…

  Molly hated that feeling.

  He helped her along.

  “No more warnings,” he said, and pulled her over his legs. She felt off balance, clumsy, as he adjusted her weight and held her down. She felt her weight press her skin into his rough jeans, felt the hugeness of his erection press against her belly, and tensed.

  Declan put his hand flat on her back and rubbed, murmuring appreciatively. “Everything about you, Molly. Just perfect.”

  That made her feel a little better. She was so exposed, so…diminutive, in this position, but the fact that he wanted her—that was a kind of power, wasn’t it? She arched her back a little, feeling the warmth spread again, loving how much he wanted her, loving that she could feel it.

  “Nuh-uh,” he said, and an arm came across her back, holding her in place. She couldn’t move at all, except maybe to flail her legs, and that wouldn’t do jack.

  And it turned her the hell on.

  “Oh my God,” she said.

  Smack.

  His open palm smacked against the meatiest part of her ass, sending waves of pleasure straight through to her core, and Molly gasped.

  “You gonna fight it anymore?” Declan asked.

  “No,” she said.

  Smack. Her thighs shook together and her clit throbbed.

  “You gonna try to torture me some more?” he asked.

  Well, he wanted honesty.

  “Maybe,” she said.

  Declan laughed, full-throated, deep, rough. He slid his hand up her thigh and toyed with her entrance, saying, “We’re gonna see about that.”

  Smack.

  Smack.

  Smack.

  She gripped at his leg, the bed, anything she could try to get her hands on. He had her helpless, and it was making her insanely hot and insanely ashamed all at the same time. She wanted nothi
ng more than for him to fuck her—finally—but this was too much. She didn’t know if she could admit how much she liked this, loved this, needed this, to herself, let alone anyone else, but her body wouldn’t let her lie. She was still fighting it, and she was losing. She didn’t want to, but she didn’t know how to stop, even while the pressure built up inside her.

  She groaned, half in pleasure, half in mental agony.

  Declan stopped. His hands roamed all over her back, her sides, the backs of her thighs, gently, like he was feeling his way. She knew he could feel how wet she was all over again, but she turned her head, buried it away.

  “You need to come again,” he said. It didn’t even need to be a question.

  “Yes,” she mumbled. She was one big, painful ball of confused tension, but she still couldn’t look at him.

  He noticed.

  “You’re still fighting,” he said at last. “Thinking too much. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get there. But right now you need a little help, huh?”

  “Mmmph.”

  He slapped her ass and she jerked forward, a reminder of what he’d just done. Not hard enough to really hurt, just hard enough to sting. She felt herself get even wetter.

  When he spoke, it was with that voice. That commanding voice.

  “On the bed, Molly. Face down, ass up.”

  Molly shivered. Face down, ass up. It was so…

  Degrading? Hot?

  She was on fire with it. She opened her mouth to say—what? Raise a political objection to words that turned her on almost as much as his hands on her body?

  “Molly. Now.”

  That voice. She was back on the bed before she even knew what she was doing, on her knees, staring at that pillow. She knew he was behind her. Could feel it. Slowly, she lowered herself down to her elbows, her knees bent, her ass so high up in the air it felt…obscene.

  Oh God, another turn on.

  And she didn’t have to see him. Didn’t have to show him her face.

  She hung her head and wondered why it was she needed this so badly. Needed to be shielded, right now, while at the same time so primitively vulnerable. And all that thought, all that bullshit anxiety, going on at the periphery of the pulsing, throbbing sensation that filled her core.

  She didn’t even think about a condom until she heard the crinkling of a wrapper. And that was insane, that she of all people wouldn’t think of that…but then both of them were taken care of, and he still knew that she would need that in order to not lose her mind.

  “I’m putting a condom on,” Declan said from behind her. “And then I’m going to ride you hard.”

  He reassured her.

  On both counts.

  Oh, what the fuck, how did he know everything? How did he know she’d need a condom, how did he know she needed to retreat to the privacy of this position, to rough sex, to get taken hard from—

  He plunged into her without warning, filling her with heat, stretching her until she cried out, gripping the sheets in front of her. She pulsed feverishly around him, aching for him to move, afraid that if he did she would burst.

  “Oooooh,” was about all she could manage. His fingers dug into her fleshy hips and held her there, impaled on him, waiting for her to get used to the size of him.

  “Oh fuck, Declan,” she panted. It was just on the edge of what she could handle, just on the edge of overwhelming, and she thought she would drown in it. He pushed all other thoughts out of her mind, leaving only him, inside her, about to…

  He slid out, slowly, dragging the head of his cock across her most sensitive nerves. Just as she’d been on the brink of being overwhelmed by his intrusion, now she was aching from his absence. She angled her hips up, not even thinking, just a primal, animal response, and his fingers dug into her.

  “Mine,” he said, and drove into her again.

  And again.

  And again.

  She was screaming already, wailing, not even knowing what was happening to her body, able to do nothing but ride the sensation of whatever it was he was doing to her, whatever it was that was happening inside her. She couldn’t move, could only take it while he fucked her hard, fast, rough. The pulsing, throbbing thing he’d put inside her expanded up and out and exploded, splintering the world and shattering her self, who she thought she was or had to be.

  All that was left in its place was pure happiness.

  Her cheeks were wet with tears when she came back down and realized he was still inside her, unmoving now, waiting for her. His big hands stroked her backside as he pulled out of her slowly, murmuring to her. He rolled her over on her back, gently, so gently, and lifted her legs around his waist as he moved between them.

  He was looking directly at her, and now she could handle it. From this place he’d put her in, this calmness, this blissed out sense of certainty, she could handle it.

  “Look at me,” he said, his voice hoarse. How had he held out? “Look at me, Molly.”

  She put her hands on those huge shoulders, let herself feel the warmth of his skin, the power of the muscles moving under her, and looked him in the eye.

  This time he entered her slowly.

  Inch by agonizing inch.

  Holding her with his gaze.

  By the time he was fully seated in her, she knew: she was his.

  Every stroke, every sensation, every moment; he wasn’t just fucking her. It was the intimacy that left her breathless, unable to speak, unable to do anything but let him in. Over and over again, she let him in.

  He held out until she came again, calling out her name as he fell on top of her, sweating, exhausted, spent. She could barely remember her own name, but she knew one thing: he’d known what she needed, and when she needed it. He knew to fuck her rough, then soft, then hold her. Make love to her.

  And that word scared the shit out of her.

  chapter 15

  Molly was a cuddler and he freaking loved it. More than that, she’d draped herself over him like the world’s tiniest, sexiest blanket, and had promptly fallen asleep while Declan stroked her back.

  He couldn’t keep his hands off of her. Even when he had an idea for a song, the first time in a goddamn age he’d felt like he could write, he’d had to think about it before he scrounged for something to write on. He’d felt it when he’d lifted his hands from that soft skin.

  But fuck it, a song.

  Half a song. But still better than nothing. Declan hadn’t written anything since kicking Soren out, hadn’t wanted to even think about it, hadn’t looked at pen and paper. He didn’t need a psychology degree to know why he suddenly felt inspired. He’d just watched the most beautiful woman on the planet push through her own fears and come for him, as his sub. If his sub could be brave enough to do that, he could write a damn song.

  Plus he had the muse naked and smelling of sex right here in his bed.

  He was careful not to wake her. She was so light it was easy to hold her cradled to his chest while he rummaged on the nightstand for his notebook. He caught sight of her face and stopped.

  Everyone looked peaceful while they slept, but Molly…Molly looked happy. She’d looked like that while she came for him, too, and surprised to feel it coming on. He was going to put that expression on her face every day.

  It was her. Fuck him, it was her that did it. Declan had damn good instincts, and he knew his sense of danger wasn’t wrong. Molly was… He felt that pull, all over again, only this time stronger than he’d ever felt it before. And that physical connection he’d known was there since day freaking one had been beyond anything he’d ever dreamed of. He’d known what she was feeling; he’d felt it. He had no freaking clue how that was possible. Every time she’d come it’d torn through him, leveling him. There was nothing normal about it.

  It was more than that, though. He’d actually felt it when she was afraid, freaking out, felt safe, or whatever, and he thought—felt—like he’d known why she felt those things. He understood what scared her better than anybody, ho
w terrifying it was when the world spun out, how exhausting it was to keep everything going. How she needed a release from that. And while he was used to reading people, it had never been quite like that. Never so raw.

  It shook him.

  Whatever. He had to get over it. He knew how this shit ended. And he didn’t get involved, for good reason, and he’d promised her that. Promised himself that. This D/s thing would be amazing for both of them, she’d get the world out of it, she’d get a book. And Declan would get used to the fact that he’d lose her eventually.

  “Mmm,” she said, burrowing her face into his chest just a little more. The way her body shifted against his, all smooth, soft curves, got him going all over again. “What’re you doing?”

  “Writing.”

  Molly looked up, propping her chin on his chest, her brown eyes looking very, very interested. “A song?”

  “Yup.”

  “Can I hear it?”

  “When it’s ready.”

  She accepted that way too quickly. He’d expected to have to fight her off, the way he normally did, and that it would end with her pinned under him and him inside her, the way it inevitably would if she teased him while naked and in bed. Instead his beautiful new girl was looking down, tracing tiny little patterns in the ink on his chest. His Dom instincts kicked in.

  “Freaking out because you finally gave in?” he asked.

  “Maybe a little bit,” she said quietly. “But it’s passing, I think.”

  She slid her hand over his chest and down his abs, so low his cock jumped, then back up to his neck, his face. He let that go. Plenty of time for instruction later. “This helps,” she said.

  He grinned. “Good.”

  “Um, Declan?”

  “Yeah.”

  “How did you know?” she asked, taking even more interest in his ink now. “That I needed you to…”

  “Take you like an animal from behind before we—”