Bad Boy's Treat: The Possessed MC

by Amy Love

  “M-Master?” Heat bloomed in her cheeks at the way he watched her now, his anger gone and in its place a ravenous hunger that he usually wore when he was about to ravish her. “What do you…?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I…” She licked her lips and swallowed hard, words failing her. If she stopped for a moment, she might realize she knew exactly what he was hinting at, but Beth didn’t want to say it aloud on the off chance that she was woefully wrong. Master. It should have occurred to her since they’d starting the sexual side of their relationship that Gryff might be interested in something beyond the usual. He had a tendency to take charge when they were together, satisfying them both by instructing her on how to behave. The first few times she’d let him lead the way because she was still floundering, out of her depth and clearly very new at the whole sex thing.

  But, shockingly enough, sex wasn’t exactly difficult to figure out. By the fourth or fifth time, Beth’s confidence had shot up because she knew how to please him—and please herself. At least, she knew how to do both to the best of her abilities. Obviously there was still more to learn, and, clearly, more to explore.

  “Do you mean…” She trailed off again, her cheeks flaming at that point. “All the time?”

  “No, no, not all the time,” he insisted as he shuffled down the couch toward her, his hand stretching out across the back. Chills ran through her as he played with her hair in a lazy sort of way, twirling it around his finger. “Only when we’re together sexually. I don’t think you could handle me as your master full-time. Not yet, anyway.”

  “Oh.” She found herself leaning in to his touch, finding that it calmed her. “So, you mean I call you ‘Master’ and I’d be your…uh…”

  “Submissive, yes.” He said it so matter-of-factly that she felt silly for being embarrassed, but Beth couldn’t help it.

  “But I don’t know how to—”

  “Of course you don’t,” Gryff interrupted, his hand wandering down to grip the base of her neck. “I wouldn’t expect you to. Some people who claim to live the lifestyle barely know what they’re talking about. We’ll start slow. I’ll teach you how to please me, because if I’m right, it will ultimately please you.”

  A shiver ran down her spine, and she sat up a little straighter, her attention snagged. She’d always thought all that BDSM stuff was a little sexist, especially when men were usually the dominants—as far as she knew—with submissive women at their feet. But if the goal was to please her, to please them both, maybe she could get on board with the idea.

  “Beth.” His voice made her jump, drawing her back to the moment, and he placed a finger on her chin, tilting her head up so that their eyes could meet. “I can’t be your boyfriend, but I can be a friend when we’re in public and your master when we’re in private. That’s is the best I can give you. If it’s not enough, I’m sorry, but maybe we should part ways.”

  The thought of leaving him now that he’d given her a plan to make things work made her feel cold—empty. So, she shook her head and leaned in closer, her hands resting on his hard chest. “I’ll do it,” she said, a slight tremor in her voice. “I’ll try it, at least…Master.”

  Saying it out loud made her feel a little silly, but the look in his eye, the darkening lust, made her swallow her nervous giggles.

  “Good,” he murmured, cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Very good.” He gave her one last hard look before pulling away. “But we won’t start tonight. I don’t think you could handle any more of anything after what we did tonight.”

  He was right, of course. Her body stung with the pleasant ache of lovemaking, and she couldn’t imagine what more they would have to do to start this whole master-sub thing, but she was glad he took her physical comfort into consideration.

  The pair shared a quick smile before turning back to the TV. They’d missed some of the program during their talk, but it was easy to catch up with the plot.

  At least, it would have been if Beth could actually focus. Instead, her mind wandered far from the crime drama unfurling before her, a twinge of worry taking root in her gut and refusing to disappear long after Gryff left her apartment that night.

  Chapter 8

  “Beth?” His breath tickled her ear, his voice a satisfied rumble. “Are you sleeping?”

  “Almost?” A gentle laugh slipped through her lips, and she sat up, bushy-eyed and satisfied and offered a tired smile. “Sorry. That was very relaxing.”

  He’d been alternating between a massage and a backrub and drawing listless images across her back for the better part of an hour. “Aftercare”—he called it, for the “scene” they’d done that night. She’d received her first punishment as Gryff’s sub. When she forgot to call him “Master” a few times during their initial play, he’d forgone the sex and just bent her over his knee to spank her. Repeatedly. Hard. Hard enough to bring tears to her eyes, but she refused to use the safe word they’d agreed upon—library—because she wanted to prove to him, and to herself, that she could play in his world. They’d only decided that she would call him “Master” a few nights ago, and she’d been incredibly anxious for their first time together in that new light.

  And it had been strangely wonderful. Despite the pain, there was an ache building in her nether regions, her thighs coated in dampness when he finished with her. Maybe it came from the way he looked at her now that they were playing by his rules. There was a want in his eye, a needy lust in the way he handled her that had never been there before. When she thought back to all the times they’d been together before, it was as if Gryff had been bored. Tonight was something else entirely. He was engaged. He’d had her give him a blowjob, something she still wasn’t very confident at, earlier in the night, but his cock was rock-solid after spanking her.

  She’d almost thought he’d make her suck him off again, or maybe he’d just fuck her, hips slamming against her tingling sore ass, but he hadn’t. Instead, he moved right into the aftercare, into a moment of calm after the main event. She’d been stretched across his lap for the better part of an hour enjoying his gentle handling of her, almost drifting off to sleep as he soothed the ache, calmed her nerves, and brought her back to herself. Beth the submissive faded during that time, and when she sat up, the air between them felt as it had before.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” he asked as she sat up, his hand on her elbow to help her get settled. Sitting was still a little painful, and she wondered if she’d still have the marks of his hand on her buttocks tomorrow morning.

  “I did,” she told him, squirming a little.

  He smirked, obviously pleased with himself, and that made her heart flutter a little. But then he raised an eyebrow, a skeptical look crossing his face. “Even the punishment?”

  Beth hesitated for a moment, unsure if she ought to tell him just how wet the spanking made her. “Even the punishment.”

  “Good,” he purred, drawing her in to him for a quick cuddle. “I knew you’d like it. You’re a fast learner.”

  “Thank you, Master,” she said in her softest voice, the one she’d used during their play. She felt his eyes on her, and he stole a hard kiss from her, all teeth and tongue and savagery. When he was through, he pulled back and untangled their limbs, slowly standing and stretching. His shirtless torso rippled with muscular beauty, and Beth couldn’t help but stare, totally in awe that a man who looked like Gryff would be interested in being with a girl like her.

  “Would you like some tea?” he asked after he was through stretching his muscles, clenching and unclenching the one hand that had done all the spanking. She watched him for a moment, her lower lip caught between her teeth, and wondered if he would be sore tomorrow too? “Beth?”

  “Tea?” she repeated, her eyebrows shooting up. Usually she was the one to offer tea, as she had quite the extensive collection in her cupboards, and Gryff was the one to usually scoff, “Don’t you mean a beer?”

  “Tea is better for calming
you down than beer is,” he told her as he made his way into the kitchen.

  “Alcohol is a depressant.”

  “Don’t be argumentative with me,” Gryff fired back, using the dominant voice he’d had for the course of their evening. It was harder than his usual voice, more commanding, and something tingled between Beth’s legs at the sound. However, he was smiling—teasing her as she’d just teased him. “Tea will make you feel better than beer. I can make you a cup.”

  After a moment of considering, she nodded, leaning on the back cushions of the loveseat as she watched him root through her cupboard. “Green, please.”

  “Of course.” He probably knew it was her favorite by now. She made it at least once or twice a week when he visited, and usually it was her order at the coffee shop in the library when they were studying. It actually touched her to know that he was paying attention, and she all but melted back down into a slumped position on her couch, wishing the night would never end.

  “You have a presentation tomorrow?” She sat up at his words, finding him studying the dry-erase calendar on her fridge. His arms were crossed over his chest as the kettle rumbled nearby on the counter, her water starting to boil. A reminder of the real world wasn’t welcome in her current safe space, and she made a face when he glanced back, her stomach feeling quite tight all of a sudden. “What on?”

  “Oh, nothing important,” she insisted with a slight wave, as if to brush it off. “It’s just with my T.A. and our little study group. It’s no big deal.”

  Well, not entirely.

  She was still being graded quite severely for her presentation, even if the one grading her was just a teaching assistant and not her actual professor. And she hadn’t really prepared as well as she should have. Gryff was too much of a pleasant distraction, and with the dynamic of their relationship changing, her mind had sort of been concentrated on one thing.

  “I’ve noticed you doing less work these days,” he noted, leaning against the wall by the fridge, his brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes,” she said with a laugh. “Everything’s great. I just…I’ve never had a real distraction from school stuff before, and it makes me realize just how unhappy I am studying law.”

  “Really?” He crossed to another cupboard to pull out a mug, the kettle reaching a boiling point now, the water inside bubbling feverishly. “But you’ve worked so hard. Your final year is the most important. And I thought you like law school.”

  For a moment Gryff sounded like her father, and she pushed the thought from her mind. Nothing made a man look less sexy than comparing him to her father.

  “I didn’t actually want to go to law school at all,” she admitted after a long moment, listening to Gryff rustle around her kitchen for a spoon to cradle the tea bag in. “I wanted to go on with my education, but at the time I wasn’t sure what I wanted. Maybe the arts. Maybe museum work. I don’t know. My dad was the one who really pushed me into law. In fact…”—she swallowed hard, remembering the day perfectly—“I almost feel like he strong-armed me into applying. He could get me in, seeing as he was the dean, and he said it was my best opportunity for a better future. My wants and feelings were never up for consideration. Law school was the only option.”

  And it had taken her a long time to acknowledge that she was genuinely unhappy there. The years dragged on, and it wasn’t until Gryff had wandered into her life that she saw the potential for something more than practice depositions and research and endless hours of stress over her grades.

  She’d never admitted it out loud. If any of her classmates knew how she felt, she’d probably be chewed up and spit out. Law school wasn’t for weak people. Competition was stiff. Peers were ruthless. And it only got worse after graduation, apparently, but Beth had spent years mentally retraining herself to accept the world she found herself in.

  “So why not just leave?” Gryff asked. Suddenly he was back beside her, and she shuffled over to make room on the loveseat, taking the tea he brought her with a sweet smile. He stretched his arm out across the back cushions, playing with her hair in the way that made her heart melt. “I mean, you could always change careers.”

  “I think my dad would disown me,” she admitted after a moment’s consideration, which was followed by a hollow laugh. “I don’t even know what I’d do if I did drop out. Law school has been my life for…a long time.”

  “But you’re an adult now.”

  “Thank goodness for you,” she teased, using the steaming drink to warm her hands. “You might face some problems otherwise, considering what we’ve been doing.”

  “I’m serious,” Gryff continued as he gave her hair a gentle tug. A chastisement. She sat up a little straighter, that tingle returning between her legs. “You’re a grown woman. Intelligent. Beautiful. You can make your own decisions.”

  “It isn’t quite that simple with a father like mine.”

  “Controlling?”

  “Very,” she said with a nod, then brought the mug up to blow the steam away. When she risked a quick sip, she burned the tip of her tongue, and she brought the mug back down to her lap, waiting with a frown. When she glanced at Gryff, she noted that he seemed very far away in his thoughts, his gaze unfocused as he stared ahead.

  “You don’t…” He spoke just as she was about to ask him what he was thinking about, and Beth pressed her lips together. “You don’t look at me as controlling in the same way he is, right? You’re not…me dominating you isn’t…like your dad—?”

  “Oh my god, no,” Beth cried, her expression horrified. “No, no, god no! I don’t relate what you and I are doing to what my dad has done to me my whole life. You’re helping me find my sexuality. You make me feel…good. He’s just stubborn. He doesn’t care whether I’m happy or not, he just wants the family name to be maintained. I’m not the son he wanted, so I can’t pass the name on to my kids, so I guess he just wants me to be in a reputable profession, or something to that ridiculous nature.”

  “Huh.” He was gone again for a second, but came back much faster this time, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. It felt oddly sweet, and she felt a blush tickle her cheeks. “Well, good. I don’t think I can handle any serious Daddy issues on top of everything else in my life.”

  She jumped on the opportunity to ask more about his life, since he’d opened the door to the conversation, but Gryff shut it as fast as ever, encouraging her to drink her tea while he found something on TV for them to watch. Frowning, Beth did as she was told, then reminded herself that it might take some time to get him to open up. He could pretend they weren’t in a relationship, but she’d managed to bring Gryff into a full-fledged relationship. Master and sub. The labels didn’t matter. As of right now, he was hers, just as she was his, and Beth wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Chapter 9

  “Are you sure? The dean?”

  “Sure as the sky is blue, Gryff,” Micky said through the phone, cackling a little. Rolling his eyes, Gryff glanced up and resisted the urge to tell him the fucking sky was gray today, the clouds packed with the winter weather everyone was preparing for, but then thought better of it. His pal was being a rhetorical shit and nothing more.

  “Guess I should have started with the highest up and worked my way down,” he said, his voice tinged with anger. He could picture Micky shaking his head, waving off his concerns, but Gryff couldn’t ignore his frustration. Today Micky had told him that rumor had it that the dean, Beth’s controlling, son-of-a-bitch dad, was playing fast and loose with his position. Whispers of money laundering, blackmail, and excessive favoritism amongst staff and students were heard, and finally they’d made their way to Gryff’s ear. If some asshole was trying to squash the Steel Phoenixes and take more control of the underground drug world of Blackwoods, there was no one better than a guy who already played God every single damn day of his life.

  “No one blames you,” Micky said gruffly. “You’re doing what you gotta do. Shit happens.”

&nbs
p; “People died, Mick,” Gryff hissed. “I wouldn’t call that ‘shit happens.’”

  “Well, get to the bottom of it faster if you’re going to throw a fit,” his old friend snapped, and he hung up the phone when he spotted Beth approaching. Evening approached, and he had a whole night planned for her. No more pointless evenings in the library for them. If she didn’t care about her classwork, neither did he, and there were about a dozen more tantalizing things they could do together than sit in the library and play footsie under the table. He couldn’t give her his commitment or his devotion, but Gryff could give the gorgeous thing a piece of him in the bedroom.

  She’d earned it after all. She was so forthcoming with information about the school. She kept the security personnel off his back. She literally kissed his feet when he instructed her to. Beth was exactly what he needed to distract himself from his problems, but not enough of a distraction to drag him away entirely. In his mind, he’d found a nice balance.