What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6)

by Maddie Taylor

  “That’s funny.” Her voice was nothing more than a ragged whisper as her hands slid over his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair.

  “What’s funny, darlin’?” he whispered back.

  “That I can’t think of a single thing to say.” She gave herself up to him then, melting into his seeking mouth and exploring hands, not to mention his incredible hard muscled chest that pressed against her breasts, the firm ridges of his belly, and the steely thighs that separated her own.

  His hand left her hair and his mouth eased back long enough to pull her summer weight sweater over her head. Sliding down her back, his adept fingers unhooked her bra, drawing the straps down her arms. She helped by pulling her hands free and tossing it aside. He palmed the lower curve of one breast and plumped it up, his head dipping to capture the taut point between his lips. Angie’s hand curled around the back of his, holding it there as she pressed forward, offering his busy mouth full access as he sucked, licked and bit lightly. When he moved to her untouched side, paying it equal time, his free hand swept down her back into her waistband. Thank god for elastic, came to mind, as his fingers dipped inside and continued their trek downward, easily accessing the back of her panties and digging into one fleshy cheek.

  Angie’s head rolled back on her shoulders as she ground her needy pussy against the hard ridge of his jeans. Still needing more, her fingers sought his belt and worked at the buckle.

  “Uh, uh, greedy girl,” he corrected as he caught her hands. “As your Dom, I set the pace.” A frisson of excitement passed between them, electrifying the air. He took her wrists and guided them behind her head. “Lace your fingers together and keep them there until I say.”

  His stare was bold as he waited, watching intently.

  “I’m the right kind of man, Angie. Submit to me.”

  She didn’t question him, wanting to do as he said, because if felt right, somehow. She clasped her hands at the back of her neck, murmuring, “Yes, Sir. I want that, so very much.”

  He didn’t say a word, he didn’t have to, approval written clearly on his face, in his gleaming eyes and the satisfied curve of his lips. Then he went back to his sensual torment of her nipples with his mouth as his hands tugged her pants down as far as her spread thighs would allow. This time, as one returned to mold against her ass cheek, the other slipped inside the front of her panties, his long fingers seeking her moist heat. As the pad of one fingertip slid over her clit, she cried out in a shuddering voice.

  “T, please.”

  Suddenly, his mouth was gone and his hands found her armpits, flipping her onto her back on the wide cushioned sofa. Her pants and panties were stripped from her legs and his hands spread her thighs incredibly wide to accommodate his broad shoulders. His mouth found her, licking into her, hot and hungry. As her mind reeled from the pure unadulterated pleasure of it all, she arched against him needing more. Her fingers dove into his hair, hands gripping tight as she pulled his head in closer.

  “Hands, Angie,” he growled, his breath rushing over her.

  She became momentarily confused.

  “Where are your hands supposed to be?”

  Remembering, she freed his hair from her grasp, once again lacing her fingers behind her neck, more tightly this time. He hummed his approval, the vibration buzzing along her nerve endings and downward, throughout the entire length of her slit. It was pure heaven.

  Without her hands, she could only press upward, arching her pelvis to seek more. He took care of that, too, by pushing her knees into her chest and lifting her ass up to his mouth with his giant hands. His tongue licked slowly through her split, starting low by drawing a hot wet circle around the puckered skin, then up further, to her weeping entrance where it delved inside, swirling around in a mind numbing caress. He lingered there for long moments before moving on, going higher to the hard, pulsing bud. Once there, his mouth opened wide and he sucked hard, his tongue lashing her relentlessly without losing any of the glorious pressure.

  “Holy fuck!” she screamed.

  He released her with a pop and a triumphant laugh that became muffled as his tongue repeated the path in reverse, slowly moving from her clit downward to end up tonguing her ass once again.

  “Damn, you’re sweet,” he murmured between licks. “And this ass…” Raising up on his knees, he pushed her legs together and clamped one hand over the backs of both thighs, bending them up to her chest until her ass angled off the cushions. “I’ll be damned if this isn’t the sweetest, most spankable and fuckable ass I ever did see.” He slapped it.

  “Hey!”

  His eyes shot to hers. “No complaining, darlin’. You’ve had this coming for two reasons. Number one, because I can’t resist spanking these glorious round cheeks.” Which he did, twice on each side. Not hard, but it made her entire nether region tingle. Yet, she couldn’t help protest that unfairness.

  “That’s hardly my fault!”

  “Number two,” he continued, talking over her. “I owe you a few swats for last night. What were you doing cozying up to that sadist? He’d have given you more than a spanking, you know.”

  “That lovely man with the accent was a sadist?”

  “Absolutely. And rumors around the club suggest he uses European techniques.”

  “What are those?” she asked, openly curious.

  “All in good time. You’re a newbie still, that’s advanced status, at least.”

  She would have scowled at him if she hadn’t been so surprised. “First Dan, now Arturo. You should make them wear tags like the DMs do so unsuspecting subs won’t be caught unaware.”

  “That’s what negotiation is for.” His hand landed again, not too hard, yet with enough oomph to sting and warm her cheeks pleasantly. “However, it isn’t to be done when you’re shitfaced on tequila—ever.”

  “Don’t you have any sweet Doms over there?”

  “You’re looking at him. For all you know, Arturo would have whipped you, and not with a suede flogger like I did, little bit. He’d have made you cry with that damned French martinet of his, upped the ante a rubber flogger or a nine-tailed cat, and topped you off with a screaming round with the bull whip.”

  “You’re joking.”

  Four more swats fell, then he leaned in, his chest pressing against the backs of her legs, pinning her as he got in her face. Nose to nose, his breath brushed her lips. “I’ve never been more serious. Now, tell me what you were doing dancing with that sadist?”

  “I didn’t know what he was. He seemed so nice and his accent—” At his narrow-eyed expression, she decided telling him what she found appealing about Arturo wasn’t particularly smart. “I’d had too much to drink, I admitted that already. I won’t do it again. I recently remembered how much I hate having a hangover.”

  Without moving back, his hand returned to her inflamed cheeks, but not in punishment this time, instead he rubbed soothingly all around where he’d spanked her. “Was there another reason, possibly?”

  When she didn’t answer right away, he changed his course and directed his hand between her spread thighs, running over her slit as his fingertips slid slowly and smoothly over her wet skin. She was wondering how he expected her to carry on a Q&A session about a drunken evening when she could barely remember her own name. On the next pass, he upped the game by sliding two fingers deep inside her and began pumping unhurriedly in and out,

  “Angie,” he prompted, making matters worse when he twisted his hand, palm up, his fingers positioned perfectly, curling and rubbing against her ultra-sensitive G-spot.

  “Um…” she began, her words catching in her throat when his thumb found her hard aching bud and began circling as he continued with the slow finger fuck. Swallowing hard, she continued in a quivering, stuttering voice. “I was still… kind of pissed… at you too.”

  “That’s the answer I was seeking. Were you also trying to make me jealous?”

  “I didn’t even think you’d be there.”

  She lost
his fingers, his hand moving up to her clit where he captured it tightly between his forefinger and thumb with increasing pressure. “You want to try that again, baby? Remember, I ran into Regan today.”

  She groaned, lifting her hips off the cushion as the pinch became more of a bite. “After a half dozen shooters, I wasn’t thinking clearly, okay? All I knew was how much I wanted you, but you didn’t want me. You hurt me, T.”

  “I know, little bit, and I’m sorry for that.” His mouth lowered and pressed a soft kiss on her open lips, as he slid his two fingers back inside her and began working her slowly again. “How about in the future, we agree to talk instead of storming out or snubbing up for a month of Sundays?”

  “I’ll have to work on that because you seem to get me riled up more than anyone, ever.”

  Low and rumbly, he chuckled into her mouth. “That doesn’t bode well for this sweet little bottom, then does it?”

  “I don’t suppose it does. As far as the silent treatment goes, yours is very effective. I’m assuming not snubbing up is a two way street, yes?”

  He blinked, staring down at her as if suddenly realizing he’d been guilty of that too. “It seems we both have some things to work on, don’t we?”

  “So, do I get to bust your butt if you get snubbed up?”

  A light pinch on her behind made her yelp. “What do you think, darlin’?”

  “I think this is all very one sided.”

  “Are you saying you want to be a switch? That you want to take me across your knee and paddle my ass until it’s red and raw for all my bonehead moves and screw ups?”

  She grimaced. Having seen it done in both clubs, she’d known every time that it wasn’t for her. She shook her head adamantly, “No. I am definitely no top.”

  “We’ll think of another form of penance for me should the time come. I’ll even put it into our contract.”

  “We’re going to have a contract?”

  “Of course, everyone that plays at the club does. During the investigation, yours was a guest contract. We’ll have to make several adjustments to that right away and since it’s been several weeks, we should go through some retraining.”

  “What for? Have I done something wrong?”

  “Where do I begin? Foremost, you seem to have forgotten how to address your Dom respectfully. Especially one who has just finished busting your butt?”

  “I thought that was only for the club.”

  “If you’re going to submit to me sexually, Angie, that goes beyond the walls of the club. Like now, for instance.” He added a third finger, still slowly stroking up inside. As he did so, he moved down her body and took a position between her thighs. “My fingers have been wedged in your pussy for several minutes. My tongue has been where they are now, though not nearly as deep. I’ve tasted you, licked you everywhere from your hard little clit to your pretty pink asshole. It might be me, but those are activities one would do during sex, don’t you think, my sweet submissive?”

  “Yes—” She started to reply, stopping when her “s” came out like the hiss of a snake as his constantly moving fingers, all three of them now, curled upward, applying pressure in a deeply pleasurable massage of her G-spot. “Yes, Sir,” she managed with a long drawn out moan.

  “Angie?”

  Her eyes were already locked on his fingers, watching as they worked between her glistening lips. She only had to lift them slightly to where his face hovered over her thighs. Fire blazed back at her as she met his very intense gaze. “Sir?”

  “That play with Arturo... Don’t do that shit again. He was lucky I didn’t rip his fucking head off.”

  “T… Sir, please,” she panted. “I won’t do that again. I swear, but I can’t take anymore.”

  “Ah, darlin’, I’m thinking that you can.” Leaning down, he pushed her thighs wide apart and slid his open mouth once more over her. Moving up her belly next, he licked and lapped a wet path, veering off at her breasts to sip on a nipple, suckling hungrily until she was writhing beneath him. He nibbled and licked his way to the other aching tip, treating it to the same. When he reached her mouth, and claimed it in a heated kiss, she tasted herself on his lips and searching tongue.

  Without breaking the kiss, his hips wedged between her thighs and he thrust into her below, filling her incredibly deep. With her feet beside her head, his cock nudged her cervix with each long stroke. Reflexively, her hands came to his shoulders and she hung on—the only thing she could do—as he drove them both into a hair tingling, heart thumping, finger curling, couch-shaking orgasm.

  Granted, she couldn’t be sure of the first, but as she clung to him, she felt his heart pounding in his chest and the delicious bite of his fingers curling into the flesh of her ass. As with everything about T, when he came, he came big, roaring with such pleasure that she swore she heard the window panes rattle as his body shook hard. Not a low key, pleasant, nice vibration, but a big freakin’ tremor from all two hundred and fifty some pounds of him as he found his release. It transferred to her body and on through to her kick ass, wide-cushioned, leather and upholstery estate sale couch where their comfortable discussion of what they now were had all started.

  A long while later, once their heart beats had slowed and their skin had cooled, Angie stirred from where her cheek lay on his chest. Angling her head back, she looked up at him. His eyes were closed, the thick blackness of his lashes like a silk fan against his cheek. She also noted the dark shadow of a scruffy beard along his jaw. She could feel where it had abraded her skin, her inner thighs, her breasts, her cheeks, and didn’t mind in the least.

  “T?” she called softly.

  He didn’t stir, but answered with a relaxed, “Mm?”

  “I think you answered well enough.”

  Luminous brown eyes opened and gleamed down at her. “About what, darlin’?”

  “About everyday life. You are definitely a bleed over kind of guy.”

  A slow smile tipped his lips, and the sexy dimple appeared in his cheek. “Will you mind, do you think?”

  She giggled. “After that, do you have to ask?”

  As they both grinned, he rolled, pulling her over his body, then rolled again, settling her back on the couch with him on top. She took his weight easily, since he braced himself slightly with his elbows and knees. “You came beautifully for me and we created so many sparks, my hair stood on end.”

  Ah, another question answered. Well, almost.

  He parted her thighs with his knee, his rekindled cock sliding smooth and stiff along the seam of her pussy lips. “That’s never happened before. Let’s see if we can do it again.”

  They did, and this time, he said his hair actually tingled.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The rumbling of her stomach woke her to the tantalizing aroma of coffee brewing and… was that bacon frying? Sitting up, she glanced at the empty space beside her. The rumpled sheets and indented pillow reminded her she hadn’t spent the night alone. She rose, slipped on her ecru satin robe trimmed in black lace—thank heavens she’d splurged recently and bought something nice—and tucked her feet into her slippers. In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and ran her comb through her hair quickly before hurrying downstairs.

  She came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of her sun-drenched kitchen as she took in the beautiful sight that greeted her. Dressed only in jeans, T stood barefoot at her stove flipping sizzling strips of bacon with a fork. A shaft of morning brightness shining through the eastern facing windows bathed the broad expanse of his shoulders and bare back in sunlight. The warm glow illuminating the muscles that bunched and flexed beneath his smooth, tanned skin as he moved.

  “Mornin’, baby. The coffee’s ready and breakfast will be done in a couple of minutes.”

  He hadn’t moved as he spoke, sensing somehow that she was there. He did so now, his eyes running over her body for a moment until they shifted up to her face.

  “Come here.”

  Without thinking, her feet to
ok her forward. His arm encircled her waist as he pulled her in for a sideways hug and a quick, yet passionate kiss. When he lifted his lips, his gaze skimmed downward and he murmured, “Moonlight and black lace.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Setting aside the skillet, he turned fully to her, the arm at her waist, drawing her near as with his other hand, he stroked his fingers lightly along her jaw. “Back in L.A., you wore the same colors. In the low light, you shimmered like you were standing in the moonlight.” He dipped his head and with a soft brush of his lips murmured, “I thought it was the lighting, but the radiance is coming from you, beautiful.”

  Her lips parted in surprise, then curved into a soft smile. “I was thinking something similar, that you glow golden in the sunshine.”

  “That goes to show how much we think alike.”

  “Or are as different as daylight and dark.”

  His head came up, his face serious. “Different isn’t always a bad thing, Angie.”

  “No, I suppose not,” she replied, silently thinking that too often different didn’t mix and turned disastrous, like oil and water, gasoline and flames, and thinking back, Angie and tequila shots. As their differences stared her in the face, she hoped—no, prayed—they would be the exception.

  “There’s no supposing about it.” His head tipped to the side. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, not enough sleep, I guess. Someone kept me up half the night.”

  The soberness left his expression and his lips kicked up on one side in a crooked smile. The hand on her lower back slid lower, gliding over her satin covered hips to dip below the short hem of her robe. His other hand joined the first, each grabbing a cheek as he aligned their hips. “I didn’t hear any complaints at the time, particularly when I woke you at 4 a.m. with two fingers in your wet pussy and my thumb in your—”

  Her hand clamped over his grinning lips not letting him finish. Eyes shining with amusement, she felt the hot slickness of his tongue against her palm and released him.

  “We’ve got more training to do today.”