Seventeen year old Riley couldn’t hold a candle to twenty five year old Riley.
Generous tits and ass and a trim waist, she had a hotter body than any of the girls in Jimmy’s shop calendars.
“Fucking hell.”
She glanced up at him shyly from under her lashes, her lips twisted in a rueful smile.
“You didn’t turn out so bad, yourself, Mister Sexton.”
He gestured to a server who tossed him a cloth bag.
“You’re okay with me touching you?”
He wanted to fucking bite her. Everywhere. God, he wanted to tear this girl apart and put her back together.
“Knock yourself out. I might be a bit harder to impress than I used to be.”
She needed to stop challenging him before he lost his last bits of control.
“Sexton,” a deep voice growled from behind him. Loke. “A word.”
Nate glowered, turning to face one of the club’s owners. Tall, muscular, with long dark hair, Loke and his buddies were some of the only men Nate knew who were a match for his size. He wasn’t sure he was a match for Loke’s crazy, though.
A corner of Loke’s mouth tilted upward as his creepy pale gaze took in Nate’s expression.
“Perhaps you’d be more comfortable above stairs.”
Unlike a lot of the other regulars, Nate had never gotten sent upstairs for crossing the line on the “no sex in the club” rule. Hell, other than stripping Riley, he hadn’t even touched her yet.
Nate raised a brow and Loke’s head dipped conspiratorially. “From the look on your face, if I don’t get you out of here now, I’ll only be back here in fifteen minutes interrupting you when you’re less interested in being interrupted.”
“It’s not like that,” Nate snapped. “I’ve known her a long time.”
“Let me commend you on your tasted then.” Loke laughed his silent laugh. “Go. Your suite or a generic one. You choose. Throw a shirt on her first so Anderson doesn’t get the vapors.”
Nate wanted to snarl at Loke for making things out to be more serious than they were, but then realized the man was right and Nate needed to cool the fuck off.
“Is there a problem?” Riley asked.
“The boss said to take you up to –” he paused, resigning himself to the worst possible scenario, “my suite.” Bad. He really shouldn’t be bringing her up there. Not in the mood he was in.
A server arrived at his elbow and handed Nate’s shirt to him.
“Okay. I need to tell my friend where I’m going.”
He nodded. “He’ll be your safe call?”
“I don’t need a safe call with you.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, Leelee.”
Chapter 3
Leelee. She’d almost forgotten.
Only Nate had ever called her that. The pet name made her throat thick. He redressed her in his own, metallic-smelling T-shirt, gathered her clothes, and led her to Jack, who was on his back and tied to a bench.
“Jack, I’m going upstairs with Nate.”
Her friend frowned at Nate, but the full effect of his protective glower probably lost some of its effectiveness seeing as how he was bound and completely helpless. Playing with her in public apparently hadn’t required the same level of concern.
Adam struck up an amiable conversation with Nate who was inspecting his rope work and ignoring Jack’s ocular threats.
“I’ll give him your suite number later, when I let him up,” Adam told Riley. “If he’s not busy, that is.”
“Oh, I’ll make my own way home. No need to cut your night short on my account. I don’t need a safe call with Nate.”
How she’d gone from wanting to avoid Nate’s notice to wanting him to take her upstairs to be alone – all in the span of forty minutes – she’d never know. The fact that he was dominant, ten times hotter than in high school, and single, was far too tempting.
Walks of shame weren’t exactly new to her, but it was very different doing it in a BDSM hotel. As they made their way through the club, no one gave them a second look except to greet Nate and politely check her out. If anything, this wasn’t so much a walk of shame as a walk of anticipation. She had a million vivid recollections of how sex had been with him back when neither of them knew what they were doing, but now that he was older and they both knew more about sex and kink…
It had taken her ages to get over him the first time, but neither of them were the same people anymore. He’d gone from doting and loyal high school boyfriend to a guy who played at clubs and probably had countless submissives vying for his attention. As for her, she’d gone from somewhat dorky band chick in high school to…whatever she was now. In transition, probably.
Lonely. Dissatisfied.
Hell, it had been almost a year since she’d even gotten laid.
Moving back to Vegas had significantly narrowed her social and play circle, and it had been the swift demise of her already pathetic love life.
They got to the eleventh floor and he took her hand and led her to the door marked eleven twelve. He still handled her the way he had when he walked her to every class and carried her books. It wasn’t until after they’d split that she’d realized his reverence and attentiveness wasn’t common in the dating world. A guy giving her flowers couldn’t compare to the look Nate would have in his eyes as she came out of her classes, as though he’d been holding his breath until she reappeared.
He unlocked the door and held it open for her, following her into a bright, airy space that temporarily made her forget where they were.
She stopped dead and he bumped into her, apologizing and righting her before she toppled over.
“Are you…married?” His place wasn’t very bachelor pad-ish at all. Not even a little.
“No.”
“Girlfriend? There’s no way you decorated this. Not unless you’ve gotten fancy in your old age.”
“It was an interior designer. The owners here are friends of mine, and they kept mocking my shitty apartment. Apparently milk crates and a big wooden wire spool aren’t good enough to use as a dining set around here.”
She grinned and turned to look up at him. Again they were too close, but she liked seeing him from this angle. He was taller than she remembered, and definitely broader. His face had lost the babyish roundness and had taken on hard planes and stubble that made him look mean. He narrowed his dark eyes and it triggered a nervous flutter in her belly.
For the second time tonight he buried his hand in her hair, tugging her closer and making her knees feel like they’d liquefied.
“How far are you willing to go with me, Leelee?” His rough voice sank through her.
How was he already lulling her under his spell? She’d almost come just from the reverent way he’d stripped her downstairs – as though he wanted to simultaneously worship her and eat her alive. No one had ever looked at her like that except him, but she’d never guessed his quiet obsession with her would have persisted after so long apart. It was heady. How had she ever left him to go to Julliard?
She shrugged, not knowing how to reply to his question honestly without making it sound weird. “I…don’t know. Finding you here feels…” Like fate?
“Like life is giving us a chance to close a door?”
“Yes,” she admitted. Or maybe to leave it open? She was back in town for a while, at least. She’d managed to block out how much she’d missed him, especially thinking he was vanilla. Now he was just too fucking perfect. “No holds barred. I want to know what I’ve been missing.”
He let go of her hair. “Shit. I need to call down for condoms.”
Her cheeks flamed as she considered things. Well, she had said no holds barred…
“I’m on the pill and I’ve never been with anyone unprotected except you.”
Nate shuffled awkwardly and glanced away. “Same here.”
Wow. She never would have guessed that, looking at him. He had to have his pick of women, and most guys bitched abo
ut condoms like crazy. It made her feel sort of warm and fuzzy.
“Same for you? You’re on the pill, too?” she asked, teasing, glad to break the seriousness of the moment with some levity. “I thought that was still in the experimental stages.”
He snorted. “Not just a submissive, but a brat.”
“The brattiest.”
“We’ll see about that. So you don’t want condoms?”
“No,” she said, aiming for nonchalance even though heat was pooling in her belly and between her thighs at the thought of taking him bareback. “But hey, things might not even go that far.”
“You never could resist me, Leelee. What makes you think that’s changed?”
“Such a dick.” She sighed.
“You always did like my dick.”
She snorted but didn’t deny it. His dick was the one she’d mentally measured all others against once she’d been able to bring herself to date anyone else.
An awkward silence fell between them where they stood frozen, staring at each other. It had nothing to do with innuendo and comebacks, and everything to do with the complete mindfuck of this moment. At least for her.
For once, she was in the same room as Nathan and had no clue what he was thinking.
“So, you live here?” she asked, hoping to get things back to normal and slow her racing heart.
“I live here.”
“And you work here?”
“Yes, as part of my rent. I also work full time at an auto shop. I’ll be opening my own next year.” His expression grew somehow…colder.
“Wow! Good for you.”
He arched a brow.
Oh. Sore spot? What was that about?
A shiver slid through her stomach as his expression went focused and far more serious.
Somehow he’d slid into Domspace and she hadn’t even seen it coming. He was usually so pleasant and funny – easy going. It was why she’d never thought he’d be dominant. He’d been through a lot, but he’d always seemed to rise above it, as though it hadn’t touched him. Maybe there’d always been a darkness in him she hadn’t noticed.
He moved to her then, dragging the t-shirt he’d dressed her in back off of her. She’d worn pretty underwear in case she found a play partner for the evening, but if she’d known… She would have thought things through better. She would have made more of an effort.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “How did I ever let you go?” His huge, rough hands circled her waist then slid up toward her breasts, making her whimper before he’d even done anything. The very idea that Nathan was touching her felt dangerous.
Older, he was even more irresistible.
His hand settled gently around her throat and his mouth hovered over hers. “What do you like, pretty girl?”
Right then the only thing she really wanted was for him to kiss her. She arched up and flicked her tongue lightly from his bottom to top lip, then pulled back.
His breath left him in a rush. Tightening the grip on her neck, he backed her, stumbling, until she met a wall. She could feel the tremor in his body through his hold on her just as his mouth smashed down on her own. He kissed her, a violent meeting of lips and teeth, like he wouldn’t be satisfied until he consumed her.
He forced his thigh between hers, pressing up hard between her legs. He bit his way down her neck, pulling her hair, grabbing handfuls of her body – her ass, tits, digging his fingers in like he couldn’t get close enough. She whimpered into his mouth and he froze and pulled back, panting.
“Fuck. I don’t lose control like this.” He rested his forehead against hers, breathing hard.
“I’m fine,” she reassured him. Fuck. She was better than fine. Nathan 2.0’s lust was fucking hot.
He nodded then drew in a lungful of air before letting her go and stepping back.
“Do you have any physical restrictions?”
“Um…no.”
“Panties off. Kneel there and wait.” He pointed at the heavy wooden coffee table. Ignoring her as she did as he’d commanded, he moved around the room taking bondage gear and impact implements out of a cabinet and throwing them on the couch.
“You do this a lot?” she asked, wishing he hadn’t regained the control he’d seemed so ashamed of losing.
“Do I do what a lot?”
“Bring girls up here to play.”
“My apartment is off limits. No one is allowed in here.”
And yet he’d brought her up here without any hint of hesitation.
Once he had gathered his gear, he approached her, his head tilted, considering.
He tapped her shoulder. “Arms behind your back and grab your elbows.”
She obeyed, then made all the adjustments to her posture that he asked for with his hands. Chin up, shoulders straight, knees spread. When she was exactly how he wanted her, he walked around her, inspecting. His boots were nearly silent on the floor despite the fact that he was walking on hardwood. He moved so quietly for such a large man, and it seemed so much sinister than if he shouted and stomped around like some “Doms” did.
When he started to bind her arms with rope, she fought to get free.
“What do you think you’re doing, Leelee?” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot yet sending chills through her blood.
She fought harder rather than answer, but he pinned her face down on the table and finished the job as though her disobedience was inconsequential.
“Go ahead and fight,” he invited. “Show me what you’ve got.”
He swatted her ass and she wriggled away, all too aware he was letting her slip out of his grip.
“Come here.” He pointed to the floor in front of him.
“Make me.” It was like an echo of the game she’d always wanted to play, that he’d never engage in. Now he wasn’t just a head taller – he was fucking huge.
He strode toward her and she slid off the table and backed from him slowly. Oh fuck. She’d fantasized about this game for so long, but after a dom in Manhattan had told her a true submissive would never challenge a dominant like this, she’d never tried it with anyone else.
With Nate it was unfinished, thrilling business.
“Why are you being such a bad girl?” Nathan asked, his brow furrowed in disapproval and his voice dropping to such low rumble that she could have sworn it made her clit vibrate.
“Because you won’t punish me,” she shot back. “I know you, Nathaniel. You’re too nice to be strict.”
“Oh, am I?”
She nodded, relaxing because he wasn’t coming closer. “And you think I’m cute so you’ll let me do what I want.” It was too bad. After the wrestling she’d thought she was going to get all the violence and dominance she’d been craving from him.
“Has being cute saved you from getting in trouble with other dominants?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Some of them find me hilarious.” She swayed a little, playing up the big eyed and sweet angle that often go her out of hot water.
“You are funny, and very beautiful, but if you brat with me there will be consequences.”
“What kind?”
“The painful kind.”
She groaned.
“Come here. Now.” He jabbed a finger at the floor in front of him again.
“Que?”
“Riley Bettina,” he growled. “Last warning.”
A nervous giggle escaped her. She wasn’t a giggly person, but this frowning, serious Nate was hard to take seriously. Sure, he’d wrestled her down to tie her arms behind her back, and they weren’t coming free no matter how she wriggled them, but it was Nate, not some serious dominant, right?
But she’d be lying if she didn’t admit she wanted him to catch her, to punish her, to be the kind of dominant she needed. Even as she thought about the old, sweet Nate who’d never hurt her, she really did want this new, dommy Nate to fucking hurt her.
He strode straight for her, and she backpedaled, excitement buzzing, but as
she turned to run he caught her around the waist and carried her across the room and arranged her face down over the arm of the couch.
“Nathanial! Let me up!”
“No. You need to obey when you’re given a command. If you don’t mind your manners around me, you’ll get what’s coming to you.”
She tried to kick, but he pushed her legs back down and smacked her hard on the ass. He nudged her feet apart and kept going, raining a series of teeth-rattling swats down on her tender skin. He had a stupidly hard hand. It was like being spanked with whippy sandpaper. Unfortunately, he seemed to like the way she squeaked when he hit the seam between her ass and leg.
“You’re doing it too hard!” she complained, trying to shift away from his hand. The blazing fire of her ass was intense and unpleasant, but the feeling of his palm on her back, pressing her down against the couch arm, was seriously hot.
“I’m just getting started.” He planted a kiss at the base of her neck and shivers pricked along her skin. Without warning, he flipped her onto her back on the couch, then forced her struggling legs back toward her face until he had access to her ass again. With her arms trapped under her back, she was uncomfortable and helpless, and with her back arched because of it, her tits were on prominent display.
Oh fuck, this position was too humiliating. If he spanked her like this she might come.
“No, stop! Please, Nate, I’ll stop bratting, I promise.”
“You really don’t like this position.” His mouth tilted in a half grin.
“It’s –” She tried to squirm out of his grip, but he had both of her ankles in one hand and there was no breaking his hold. How could he be so much bigger and stronger than he used to be? “I don’t like it!”
“You don’t have like it, you’re supposed to learn from it. Manners are important.”
Dammit. He wasn’t even out of breath!
“We’re the same age, doorknob. You don’t get to teach me anything.”
His next swat felt a hundred times harder and a million times more humiliating.
“Should you be calling someone names when they’re in the middle of punishing you?” he asked patiently, after he’d delivered the next smack.
Feral King (The Dominant Bastard Book 1) Page 31