by EM BROWN
And then she saw him. The most welcome sight in the world.
He stepped from behind Bataar, grabbed her arm and, yanking her past his body, decked Vince, who had come up behind her.
Bataar caught her and spun her behind him. He then pulled Claire out of the house, his gun trained on Vince. Ben turned and saw Jake, who was halfway up the stairs, and chased him back down.
“Kimani!” Bataar yelled when she ran after Ben.
She entered the basement in time to see Ben throw Jake against the wall.
“I was just—” Jake objected before Ben slammed him into the wall a second time.
“Ben!” Kimani shouted.
Jake slid to the ground.
“What are you doing?” she asked, racing over.
“Beating the shit out of him for you,” Ben said between heavy breaths.
“I don’t need you to do that,” she said. She handed him the gun. “I’ll do it myself.”
Kimani kicked Jake as hard as she could in the ribs. “That’s for all the cunts in the world.”
She aimed her next kick at his groin. Jake curled his body and grabbed his crotch with an agonized groan. Kimani glanced over at Ben.
He stared at her intently. “God, I’m in love.”
Turning back to Jake, he delivered a swift kick to Jake’s face.
“Fuck! My nose!” Jake screamed as blood gushed over him.
Ben aimed the gun at him.
“Ben!” Kimani screamed, grabbing his arm.
“You want this fucker to live?” Ben asked, his tone icy and serious.
“I don’t want you to go to prison.” She pleaded with every nerve in her body. “Jesus, I still owe you two days.”
His expression softened. “Yeah, you do.”
He lowered the gun. With his thumb, he wiped the blood from her bottom lip. She hadn’t even realized she had sustained a cut there till now. His gaze swept over the rest of her, noticing the bruise on her forehead.
His pupils constricted, and his eyes darkened. “What did he do to you?”
Not wanting to go into detail for fear that Ben might take justice into his own hands, she said, “Nothing. You came just in time. How did you know we were here? I thought you were in Vancouver?”
“Bataar had a guy on Jake...and a bodyguard on you.”
“A what?”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, but maybe we should check on Claire.”
They left Jake in the basement and locked the door. Upstairs, another car had pulled up. A man emerged, whom Kimani recognized as the man who had given her a lift back to the campaign headquarters the day she’d found out Ben was behind the closure of the Tribune.
“That’s Bill. He was your daytime bodyguard,” Ben explained.
She raised her brows. “I had a nighttime bodyguard, too?”
“Moe.”
Bataar looked at them from where he was standing guard over Vince, whom he had lying face down in the foyer with his hands behind his back. “Moe’s going to be okay. He sustained a minor concussion. And Chin found his way to the hospital.”
“Who’s Chin?” she asked.
“The guy we had on Jake,” Ben explained.
Claire was sitting on the doorstep, shivering and in a daze, her cheeks stained with mascara. Ben took off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. Kimani was about to sit down next to her, but Ben grabbed her. He looked her over again, and there was an edge to his voice when he spoke.
“When you get checked by the doctor, and if I find out you fucking lied about what Jake—”
“Then you get to punish me,” she interrupted. She made her voice sultry. “I hope you punish me good, Master.”
Chapter Thirty-One
“Punish me good, Master.”
It was music to his ears. Ben smiled as he circled Kimani. In his playroom, he had set three thick bamboo poles in a tripod as if to form the frame for a teepee. From the center, where he had tied the poles together with a clove hitch, Kimani dangled by her arms near the floor. Her right ankle was tied to the bottom of one pole while her other was pulled asymmetrically up toward another pole, forcing her thighs open. She had on one of his button-down shirts that she’d knotted at the waist. The rest of her was as naked as sin.
Squatting down, he undid the buttons of her top. Slipping a hand into the garment, he squeezed a breast and tugged on an already-erect nipple.
“Mmmm,” he murmured.
He pinched the nipple, making her strain against her bonds. He pulled the top open to expose both breasts, then caressed each of the areolas and teased the nipples to further hardness.
Crop in hand, he landed the end of the implement on her chest. She grunted. He struck the side of her breast. She gasped. He smacked her breast dead center. She cried out.
“Thank you, Master,” she whimpered.
He slapped her other breast with his hand before applying the crop. She yelped and writhed beneath the tripod. Rising to his feet, he tapped the crop along her midsection to her thighs. He slapped the crop on an inner thigh, making her jump. Standing in front of her, he admired the bare and supple folds between her legs. Earlier, he had taken a razor and trimmed the curls at her mound.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he complimented.
Squatting down again, he caressed the smooth flesh and toyed with her clit, encouraging it to emerge and swell. She purred as she watched him intently. Their gazes met over the hills and valley of her body. Her stare made his cock harden against his pants.
He had come home to his place in Pacific Heights from his office with the intention of taking Kimani out to dinner, but she had looked utterly too hot in his shirt, sans a bra, and a pair of his basketball shorts that looked ready to fall off her hips.
She hadn’t wanted to stay at his place initially, but since coming back from Trinity County, he had refused to let Kimani out of his sight for the first few days. Even though Jake and Vince, who had both been denied bail, were an unlikely threat and Bataar was on duty as her primary security, Ben didn’t trust anyone.
He drew the moisture between her folds to her clit and fondled her till she groaned.
“Can I come, Sir?”
“This being a punishment, what do you think the answer is?” he replied.
She let her head fall back. “Ugh.”
He tapped the crop up the inside of one thigh and down the other, then slapped it on the bottom of her raised foot. She cried out.
“Hold the crop,” he instructed, placing it between her teeth. “Make sure you don’t drop it.”
He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt and, from a nearby table, selected a small wooden stick with a point at the end, almost like a pencil. He grasped her foot and ran the point down the arch of her foot. She bit down harder on the crop. Her body writhed forcefully, tugging against her bonds. He poked the bottom of her foot with the stick, then dragged it up the arch. She screamed around the crop.
Finished, he kissed the bottom of her foot.
“I don’t know that I’ll ever like bastinado,” she said between difficult breaths after he had removed the crop from her mouth.
“Then we’ll go back to the crop.”
He slapped it over her belly, against her side, and over her twat.
“Ow!” she cried.
He landed it sharply on an outer thigh, the side of a buttock, and between her legs again.
“Shit!”
The bamboo poles shook with her jerking. He gave her a reprieve. With her head hanging back, she stared the ceiling.
When he moved, her head snapped up. She was on alert again, her gaze following him so that she might guess where he would strike next.
He didn’t, choosing instead to exchange the crop for a classic teardrop butt plug with a flared handle. Kneeling before her, he rubbed the plug along her slit, collecting her juices. Her eyelashes fluttered as he slid it against her clit. He dipped the plug into her to lubricate it further. She moaned as he fucked her wit
h the plug for a bit before pulling it out and nestling the tip at the other pink opening below. Some of her moisture had already dripped there. He rested his other hand on her pubic bone and thumbed her clit before inserting the tip into her bottom hole.
“You’ve got to keep it in if you want to come later,” he told her, pushing more of the plug in and finding some resistance.
“Yes, Sir.”
He let the plug rest halfway so her body could adjust to the foreign object. Lowering his head, he tongued her clit.
“Jesus,” she moaned when he starting going to town on her.
He pushed the plug all the way in till her sphincter closed around the neck of the plug. He held it in place so that her muscle contractions wouldn’t expel the plug.
“Keep it in,” he reminded her.
Her brows knit it concentration as she forced her body to accept the plug. Letting go of the handle, he sat back to admire the crystal jewelry at the end of the plug.
“Good pet,” he praised before sinking two digits into her twat.
“Oh, God,” she groaned. “That feels so good, Master.”
He smiled and worked her till she was squirming and panting.
“Can I please, please come?” she murmured, her brow intensely furrowed.
“Am I nice guy?” he teased.
“Yes! You’re such a nice Master. You’re the nicest fucking guy around.”
“You don’t really believe that, do you, pet?”
She flushed.
“For lying, I might make you wear the plug all day tomorrow.”
She frowned.
“But I will let you come right now. Because I’m not a complete arsehole.”
She brightened. His fingers hit all the right spots inside her.
“Ohhhh...” She grimaced.
“Are you going to come for me, pet?”
“Y-Yes, Sir.”
“Are you?”
“Yes!”
Her answer devolved into a sob as she lost control of her limbs. The muscles inside her clamped down on his digits while her body bucked and shook. It was an amazing sight. One he would never tire of.
After the quaking of her body had settled, he undid his pants and pulled out his eager cock. He slapped his cock against her flesh and rubbed it along her clit. He wanted nothing more than to feel her flesh to flesh, to spill himself into her, implant his seed in her womb, but he didn’t want her to have to worry about taking a morning-after pill, so he slid on a condom before sinking himself into her.
Her eyes flew open at being filled in both holes. He, too, could feel the presence of the plug.
“God, you’re fucking marvelous,” he said to her.
“So are you, Master.”
He grunted. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to fuck her because he couldn’t contain how much his body went crazy for her, or make love to her because he wanted to show he was worthy of her affection. He rolled his hips gently as he considered which it would be. She responded, trying to move her hips in rhythm to his, clenching down on his member, making him want to fuck hard. But he held off on letting the beast loose.
She had been banged up enough by Jake. The bruise on her forehead had receded but wasn’t fully gone.
He watched her every breath, every blink of the eye, every tremor of the body. Reaching for a breast, he massaged the orb as he paced himself with the thrusting, wanting to draw out her pleasure as well as his own. When she started to move a little too much, like she wanted to do the fucking, he slapped the breast.
“Just sit back and enjoy this one,” he advised.
Her eyes closed and her body relaxed. Holding on to her legs, he thrust into the most delicious heat he had ever known. She shivered with each withdrawal and groaned as he dove back in.
“Can I come?” she remembered to ask.
“You had better.”
Within minutes, her body was straining, arching, shaking. He pumped himself deep, then pulled out quickly. Her body released a stream of wetness. He shoved himself back in, bucked several times, and yanked his cock out. She was a mess of rattled nerves, squirting, cursing, and crying. It was exactly how he liked her.
After shedding his clothes, he removed the plug and untied her from the poles. Wrapping her in his arms, he carried her to the bed. As soon as he sat down with her on his lap, she pushed him down to the bed and crushed her lips atop his, mauling him with her mouth.
Hot damn.
Grabbing the back of her head, he kissed her back. She slid her body over his, shoving parts of herself at his cock.
“You want to fuck me, don’t you?” he murmured against her lips.
“May I, Master?” she asked coyly.
He laughed at her fake demureness. “All right, pet. Fuck me.”
She straddled him and sank down on his cock.
Bloody. Fuck.
He forced him to stay still to see how she would ride him. She ground herself into his pelvis, rubbing her wetness all over him. Then she pushed herself up his shaft, tightening about him at the same time. Pleasure percolated up and down his cock and tingled down his legs. She had strong thighs and was able to pump herself up and down easily. He watched her breasts bounce and groped one.
She found that if she rode him at a slight angle, her own pleasure increased. Perspiration glowed upon her skin, and the arousal in her face made his balls boil in excitement. It was hard for him to stay out of the action, so he grabbed her hips, and bucked himself into her. She gasped loudly at being speared so forcefully. He eased his thrusts.
“Come on, pet. Come for me.”
Her paroxysm would have toppled her from him if he hadn’t been holding on to her. He shoved himself deep and fast, making her teeth chatter, till he exploded in glory. He roared as the tension in his body burst through his erection, sending waves of rapture behind it, rippling from his head to his toes. The sensation overwhelmed him, and he had to close his eyes to shut out unwanted stimulation. He lie bathed in jaw-dropping bliss, trying to find his breath as Kimani collapsed over him.
He wrapped his arms about her, holding her close as his member throbbed inside of her. After they had lain in quiet for several minutes, he kissed her temple and asked if she wanted to go out for dinner.
“How about that noodle place in Chinatown, the place you took me to before?” she suggested. “I feel like Chinese.”
“Whatever you want. If you feel like French, there’s a great little place in the Rue Cler.”
She pushed herself up to look into his face. “I have an appointment with the therapist in the morning.”
The therapist. His anger rose as he wondered how long she would have to be in therapy to work out the trauma. He should have killed Jake when he’d had the chance. Now she still had to see the bastard in court.
“And Ms. Clarkson wants to talk with me again,” Kimani added as she idly circled her finger over his nipple. “Thanks to the Scarlet Auction documents you gave her, she feels she has a strong case. They’ve subpoenaed a lot of people now, not just Claire. And Claire’s not going to defend anyone this time.”
“They better not cut Jake too good a deal,” Ben said grimly.
Jake had offered to spill the goods on the Scarlet Auction, with whom he had coordinated to intimidate Kimani. It was someone from the Scarlet Auction who had broken into her home and taken her computer.
“Ms. Clarkson seems like a hard-ass,” Kimani replied.
Ben imagined a lot of people considered Ms. Clarkson a bitch, and he hadn’t been taken with her at the beginning, but now he was glad Ms. Clarkson was on the case. Maybe the world could use more hard-charging women.
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay,” Kimani said.
He looked at her in surprise. After all that she had been through, she was trying to comfort him? He pulled her in closer.
“We should get you to bed early,” he said. “You’ve also got work tomorrow.”
“I finished most of the details for Gordon’s campaign rally
yesterday.”
“I meant you have a job to go to.”
She tilted her head. “I don’t have a job because some overbearing billionaire shut down the paper I worked at.”
“Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”
She stared at him with eyes agog. He smiled to himself. He was going to see that look again when he told her he had tickets to the Warriors’ opening night.
“Oh my God, I love you,” she squeaked—then backpedaled as she seemed to decide it was too good to be true.
Still, the words rang in his ears and caused his breath to stop.
“But,” she said, “you’re just going to lose more money keeping the paper open.”
“Maybe I can take a page from Bezos’ playbook,” he said, referring to the acquisition of the The Washington Post.
“You’re gonna do that and build a childcare center?”
He had to admit the childcare center was not going to be easy.
“Maybe the childcare center was a bit much to ask for, just for an ass-fucking,” she said, her brow furrowed.
He cradled the side of her head. “Hey, I’ll make it happen. Your ass is well worth it.”
“So am I going to owe you my ass a gazillion times now?”
“Only if you want to, love.”
She smiled. “I do.”
With a growl, he rolled her beneath him. Her noodles would have to wait.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Music filled the Gordon Lee for Mayor campaign headquarters, and even though the results had not yet posted, the atmosphere on election night was generally festive.
“If Little Red and I hadn’t gotten back together, I’d take a run at her,” May said to Ben as they watched Kimani smiling and talking with Maybelle as she set up the refreshments.
May had flown out to support their uncle the last few days of the campaign.
“You better behave yourself,” Ben warned.
“Don’t you threaten me.” May poked him in the chest. “I’ve got the goods on you, brother.”
May didn’t know half the things that went on during his run with a triad, but he wasn’t about to bring it up.
He watched as May went over to talk to Kimani, pleased that his sister had taken an almost instant liking to Kimani. Overall, it had been a good week. The District Attorney had charged Jake Whitehurst and Vince Donato for aggravated kidnapping and aggravated assault. The District Attorney had also scheduled a grand jury proceeding to seek an indictment against the organizers of the Scarlet Auction. And Ben had a lead on a possible location for the childcare center he had promised Kimani.