Tell Me No Lies: The Black Orchid, Book 1

by Magnolia Smith

  “It could be like this every night and day, if you like.”

  “When you’re here, you mean.” She laughed. “You make it sound so easy.”

  I couldn’t take it anymore, being this close to her and not touching her. I took her bottle of water and placed it on the table beside her. And then I gently grabbed her face with one hand and kissed her on the lips.

  “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

  Flustered, she pressed her hands against my chest. “What are you doing, Kael? I said slow.”

  “This is me on slowmo.” I kissed her gently on her lips again. “Do you want me to kiss you again?”

  She licked her lips. “Yes.”

  My hand moved to the back of her head and I undid the knot her silken hair was in. It tumbled to her shoulders, smelling of violets and honey. I grabbed the back of her head, brought her to my mouth, and held her there as my tongue breached the tight line of her lips. I nibbled at them softly and then not so softly.

  She whimpered as I lowered my face to her neck and nibbled at the satiny skin there. I was trying to be gentle. It was difficult. The things I wanted to do to her weren’t nice.

  But I couldn’t be like that with her. I’d scare her. I might hurt her. And then she’d hate me, think I was a savage…an animal.

  Her hands were in my hair, her head tossed back. I went lower. Her right spaghetti strap was already down her shoulder and I pushed the other down too. Gentle. Be gentle with her. You can do this.

  She wore a lacy, black strapless bra underneath. I undid the clasp and tossed it across the room.

  “Slow,” she breathed. “I said slow.”

  My mouth went to her breasts. They weren’t large or small, somewhere in the middle but full and perfect. More than a mouthful. They were paler than the rest of her body, a milky white with a dark brown tip. I slid my tongue around her chocolate-colored areola before slurping on her nipple.

  She moaned loudly and her body went taught. “Kael, please.”

  I dragged my tongue slowly up her body, beginning with her nipple, stopping at her chest, shoulder and then her face. “Please, what?”

  “Please, please…stop.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  She nodded quickly, though her pupils were dilated, her cheeks and lips flushed and I could see her pulse throbbing against the flesh of her neck. All hallmark signs of arousal.

  I was hard. So hard. But I could wait. I could wait all night if I had to, until she came multiple times. I wanted to give her pleasure. Make her scream and moan, wanted her to want me so badly, she’d forget about the past.

  I gently but firmly placed a hand between her thighs.

  “What are you doing?” Her thighs clamped down hard on my hands. “I already told you.”

  I kissed her again, deeply. “I know, sweetheart. Slow. I just want to check and see if you’re aroused. I would never do anything you didn’t ask for.”

  The vise-grip of her thighs loosened just a bit. “You promise?”

  I began to move my hand deeper, finding the slip of panties and moving it to the side. “You can always trust me.”

  My finger found softness, wetness. She was so ready for me. I glided my finger to and fro, without delving inside. “You’re wet, honey. Are you sure you want me to stop?”

  Gentle. Be gentle with her. It was a mantra, my mantra. And I had to keep repeating it, lest I throw her on the ground, rip her clothes off, tie her wrists behind her back and—

  The luscious image in my head was interrupted by her moan.

  She lolled her head to the side, enjoying the motion of my finger for a moment. “Please…stop.”

  I removed my hand, but kept the panties as they were, so I could see the juicy, sweet pink folds. She tried to close her legs but I stopped her with a firm hand on both legs.

  “Leave them open, is there anything wrong with me just looking?”

  Her breath caught in her throat and she shook her head.

  God, she was beautiful. With her hair wild, her dress around her waist and thighs wide open, I thought I’d explode just from the view.

  I fell to my knees and lowered my face to her thigh. I kissed it gently. I looked up at her. “May I?”

  Gentle. Be gentle. No bite marks, no bruises. You don’t want to scare her away.

  Her thighs were trembling and I could see the moisture gathering at her pink center. I started at her knee with gentle kisses and swirls of my lips. I dragged the moment out until she was whimpering and squirming. With my hands holding each thigh in place, she couldn’t go anywhere even if she wanted to.

  I trailed my lips all the way up to her wetness and stopped. Instead, I turned to the other leg and re-started my journey, this time stopping to gently bite the soft skin of her inner thigh. When I reached her wetness again, I paused.

  “Want me to stop?”

  She gave me a look of pure hatred and then grabbed me by the back of my head with both hands and pushed me to her wetness. Well, she was asking, I was sure of it. I couldn’t be gentle anymore.

  I dove my tongue deep inside of her, lapping up all of the wetness I’d created. It was quickly replaced by more, and I slurped that up as well. I lapped and I slurped and I sucked until she was screaming out my name. Her body contorted, her legs widened and then wrapped around my head. She alternated between embarrassment and wantonness. Wanting me and hating me for the pleasure I was giving her. I could read it all in her face, her movements, her screams.

  But that wouldn’t do. If she still felt embarrassment, I wasn’t doing my job. I needed her to feel completely uninhibited, all her walls down. I needed her to drown in her very own debauchery, choke on her screams, washed away by tidal waves of pleasure and need.

  I stopped, wiped my slick face on the fabric of her dress and gently bit her inner thigh. Gentle. Be gentle. I sunk my teeth into her tender flesh, sucked on it and then lapped my tongue around the imprint my teeth left on her skin.

  She cried out in pain, and I almost lost it then. That sound, the pitch of her voice, the timbre of helplessness, dear God made me want to really hurt her, so that the pain turned to pleasure, reversed back to pain and ended with a nice wet orgasm for us both.

  I grabbed her by her thighs and jerked her toward me, so that her pussy was in the air, her head and shoulders almost falling off the couch. I slid my tongue inside her, ate my fill, sucked her dry, left the insides of both her thighs covered in pink bite marks.

  Her cries and moans filled the room, and I couldn’t tell if they were pleasure or pain. The darkness had surrounded my head and squeezed, like a boa constrictor around a rabbit, and I couldn’t see my way out of it.

  A red haze spread past my eyes before I could discern the sounds around me. Her moans of pleasure meshed with pleas for me to stop and I finally complied. I gently placed her back on the couch, fixed her panties into place, closed her legs and pulled her skirt down.

  I rose and hovered over her for a moment before kissing her once more on her lips. “Are you okay?”

  Smiling weakly, she pulled her dress up. “I should go.”

  I found her bra and handed it to her.

  Standing up, she turned her back to me and strapped her bra on then fixed her clothes. As if I didn’t just have my face deep inside her.

  “What was that?” Her face colored. “It felt like you were attacking me.”

  “Did you come?”

  “Well, yes but…you bit me multiple times. That was new.”

  “You liked it?” I held my breath.

  “You bit me like you were a dog and I was a bone.”

  “No, baby, I bit you like I was a starving man and you were the last sweet, juicy peach left on the planet.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Oh.”

  “So you hated it?”

/>   “It scared me.” She raked her hands through her hair.

  I took a step toward her, my heart pounding against my rib cage. It was a good sign that she was asking questions. Perhaps I could initiate her slowly into the lifestyle.

  I stopped. She was trembling and her face had paled.

  “Are you okay, Rain?”

  She smiled bravely. “I’m fine. I just, I just wasn’t sure if you were angry or aroused.”

  I exhaled. “I scared you. You’re frightened of me?” My throat was dry, my voice hoarse. “You think I’d hurt you?”

  She just looked at me with wide eyes.

  That look of fear made my cock jump. Down, boy. Maybe Zelie was right, maybe I couldn’t hide my true nature from Rain. My need to sexually dominate in the bed was strong. It was a dark, primitive urge that I lived with, but not every woman could understand it. Zelie did. But I didn’t want her.

  Rain reached out and touched my hand. “I don’t think you’d hurt me on purpose, but I sensed something within you tonight, something I’d never felt before.”

  Shit.

  “Like maybe you could get off on hurting me? Some people like that stuff, you know?” Her voice was low and sweet but she was still trembling. Still afraid of me, and I was still rock hard.

  “What do you know about it, honey?”

  She wrinkled her nose and smiled as her face turned crimson. “Nothing.”

  In that moment, I wanted to teach her everything. I wanted to shove her beautiful face into my soft carpet, pull her skirt up, rip her panties to shreds and sink my cock so deep inside her that she couldn’t walk for a week. Limp maybe.

  I took a damned long breath. “There are two kinds of pain, good pain and bad pain.”

  She looked doubtful, like I was speaking nonsense. “How can pain be good when it hurts?”

  “It hurts so good, baby.” I took both her hands and wrapped them around me, placing her in a soft hug. I pressed my nose again her hair, murmuring in her ear.

  “When you mix up pain and pleasure, your body gets confused and after a while, you don’t know which is which. You can beg for pain, just like you beg for pleasure.” I pressed my lips against her temple. “Pain can make you come, just like pleasure can.”

  She pulled away creating a small space between us. “Sounds twisted.”

  “Some say it creates an exquisite type of pleasure.”

  Her face tilted upward and she gazed into my eyes. “What do you know of it?”

  I licked my lip, reading her face, her body language, judging the tone of her voice. She sounded game, but this wasn’t her bag. She was still scared shitless. I’d gone too far tonight. Zelie was right. I needed to lie or I’d lose her forever. So I did. I lied.

  “Not much, just what I’ve seen in books and films.”

  “And the bites?” Her eyes dipped down at her thighs.

  I grinned. “Just got carried away is all. It won’t happen again. I won’t ever do anything unless you ask.”

  “I’m leaving.” She smiled uneasily for a moment and then walked to the door.

  “You can stay the night.”

  “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  I stood there awkwardly, not quite sure what to say. “Hey, I’m sorry. I got carried away.”

  “So you said.” She bit her lip and then turned the doorknob. “I’ll call you.”

  But she hadn’t.

  An hour had passed since she left. I’d sat on my couch, hands on knees, breathing. It hadn’t worked. So I left. I had to. She was right to leave when she did. It wouldn’t have been safe. And above all else, I want her to feel secure with me.

  Every major city has a place for people like me, with certain desires. Some places are obvious and some, not so obvious. I preferred subtlety in most things, including the place where I met my kind.

  My kind. Sometimes I felt like I was a creature in a paranormal flick, a fucking vampire, a shape shifter, a horny werewolf, but no, I was just a regular guy. Sort of.

  I was an assassin that got off on violent sex. But I also enjoyed working my vineyard, listening to Chopin, fluffy kittens and walks on the beach. Fuck. Who was I kidding? There was nothing regular about me.

  However. The place I was in now was filled with regular people. It was located in a nondescript building on the industrial side of Raleigh’s downtown. Unless you were looking for the place, you wouldn’t find it, nor would you know it existed. It was called The Crow.

  I leaned back in the booth, sipped my Scotch and scanned the room. It was a bar, a private meeting space with an expensive membership that allowed Dominant people to meet submissive people for sex.

  I should’ve felt dirty, filthy, like a slimy creature of the night, but instead I just felt at home. The lights were dimmed, the floor polished, wood and black leather booths and small wooden tables dotted the small room. A weird trip-hop beat poured from speakers in the ceiling, and a sweet cherry scent permeated the space.

  It was late and most couples were already huddled up, making arrangements: what could be done, what was off limits, safe words were created. They were necessary conversations in this context, but it definitely took the spontaneity out of the act.

  Times like this, I wished Zelie was around. No words were needed for her. She knew her role and played it like a champ. Yeah, she’d been playing a role, which is why she was aces at it.

  But it was Rain I wanted, not Zelie.

  And I couldn’t have her in that way. Tonight, I’d gone too far to stop my cravings. I had to finish it this way. Or I’d end up getting into a fight at a bar, half beating the shit out of some poor drunk office worker out on the town with his friends. This way was controlled, civilized.

  There was movement to my left. A dark shape and the smell of something sweet. I set my glass down and raised my eyes. She would do.

  She was short and curvy, maybe a Latina with long, dark curly hair. Her hips swayed as she walked, like she was dancing with every step. Her heels were so high that she had to take baby steps across the floor.

  She looked soft with large breasts bouncing in the tight halter of her dress. I stood up, moved closer to her, already imagining how she might moan in my ear when I twisted her nipples in my fingers.

  “Excuse me.”

  A man appeared in front of me, standing between me and the young woman. I blinked twice. It was Luke. His face split into a wide smile his white teeth gleaming in the dark.

  “What’s up, bro?”

  “I could ask you the same. What are you doing in Raleigh?” An uncomfortable feeling twisted in my gut. “You on assignment?”

  “Nah. Just passing through. My flight to South America was delayed, leave in the morning first thing.” He jerked his head to the girl. “Gotta stay busy. You know how that is.”

  The girl looked over her shoulder at both of us. “Coming, daddy?”

  He went to her, possessively placed his arm around her tiny waist and bared his teeth into a grin. “We’ll catch up.”

  “Sure.”

  I grabbed my drink, finished it and headed for the bar, pissed that Luke had gotten to the girl first, wondering about him being in Raleigh. His explanation rang true. Travel was a bitch and I’d had to keep busy on many a layover.

  Seeing Luke tonight was a reminder that I hadn’t talked to him in a good six months.

  “Another drink, soldier?”

  I looked at the female bartender, a thin redhead with freckles. “Sure. Scotch neat.”

  She poured the drink, her eyes never leaving mine. “You from Bragg?” she drawled, “looking for a little fun?”

  I took the drink from her and threw a tip in her jar. “Something like that.” I hadn’t been a soldier in years, but I guess it was a hard thing to shake, even without the buzz cut.

  “What’s your
pleasure? I know somethin’ about every girl in here.”

  I looked around the room. A few girls were dancing together by a jukebox. “Slim pickings tonight. I just want something soft and sweet.” I finished my drink and shoved the glass back toward her. “A pain whore.”

  She picked up my glass. “But pretty, right?” she purred in nasal tones.

  I barely nodded. I just needed to inflict some pain. Her face wouldn’t matter tonight.

  She gazed around the room once and then back again. A slow smile crept across her face. “Her.” She pointed to a table in a corner. “She’s what ya wantin’.”

  I threw down a ten. “Thanks.” Then went to the table.

  The girl was young, maybe twenty-one with wavy shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair and big blue eyes. She turned to me expectantly. “You wantin’ to play?” She stood before I could respond. “You got a place we could go to?”

  I took in her appearance; the black bra straps running parallel with her white tank, the faded low-rise jeans with the frayed edges and strappy sandals revealing aqua blue toenails.

  She was no Rain. I wanted Rain.

  Yeah, I could tie her up, smack the crap out of her with my belt and then fuck her until I came, but it would be empty, completely meaningless. I couldn’t do it.

  Smiling at the girl, I made my apologies and stepped away.

  There was an even better way to deal with my frustrations.

  * * * * *

  Thirty minutes later, I’d arrived at a local mixed martial arts gym I’d found with an app designed for precisely that reason. I liked to fight with my bare hands and I usually found a gym or ring to spar in wherever I happened to be.

  And while sparring was great cardio and great for my reflexes, it was perfect for getting rid of the type of frustration I accumulated when I couldn’t fuck the way I needed to.

  I stepped out of my truck, grabbed the duffle bag filled with athletic gear and headed for the small brick building. Even though it was late, there were a few cars in the parking lot, meaning there would be somebody I could step onto the mat with and beat to a bloody pulp.

  Chapter Eighteen