Bejeweled and Bedeviled

by Tiffany Bryan

  He couldn’t have just asked? Riding out the ripple of pain rolling across her ass, she fought the urge to turn and glare.

  “Or was I mistaken in believing the clamps tight enough? Would you prefer I tighten them more?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. Now let’s get this thong off.”

  The process of widening the opening around the butt plug, sliding the skimpy thong down her hips and removing it after instructing her to lift one leg and then the other amounted to no more than a few seconds and left Kayden feeling a bit cheated that he hadn’t lingered a bit longer to tease and play.

  “Relax.” He rubbed his hands methodically over her back, kneaded the back of her neck and shoulders, massaged her upper arms and unhurriedly worked his way back.

  Kayden arched into his soothing touch. “Mmm.” The kiss he placed at the base of her spine ignited a spiraling tingle that fanned out over her flesh.

  “I had initially thought to remove your new toy before granting your request to be…fucked. Considering how well you’ve taken to the small amounts of pain I’ve administered so far, I’ve reconsidered.” He palmed, squeezed and spread her ass cheeks, running his thumbs beneath the flared lip of the plug.

  Kayden internal muscles seized at the light tug, an instinctive reaction to hold the plug in place. In the hours she’d worn it, she’d discovered she liked the erotic feeling of something in her ass. “Leave it in.”

  After a prolonged silence, she hastened to say, “Please, leave it in.”

  “Better. Remember your manners and you’ll get everything you want tonight,” he passed the tip of his finger teasingly through the puffy lips of her pussy, “and so will I.”

  “Hunter, p…leeez.” She lowered her shoulders and raised her butt. The rasp of his fingernail lightly over her clit had her sucking in a breath and coming back up.

  “One more question, sweetheart.”

  Kayden bit back a frustrated scream.

  “What’s your safe word?”

  “Diamond,” she nearly screeched and then did when he shoved the full length of his cock inside her in one long, slippery lunge.

  There was a flash of pain. Fast on its heels came a swift tidal wave of burning pleasure, making her grateful for the strong hands at her waist that kept her ass pinned to his pelvis and thwarted her attempt to pull away. She’d never experienced anything like it. Not the feeling. Not the man.

  She could too easily get addicted to both.

  The addiction to the feeling wasn’t what scared the living crap out of her.

  “Stay with me, love. I’m far from done with you.”

  For a paralyzed moment, she thought he could read her thoughts. When his pumping hips fell into an easy, cadenced rhythm, she relaxed and emptied her mind of all thoughts of permanence. Not a difficult task, since the rhythmic in-and-out glide of his long, thick cock was pushing her rapidly toward a long overdue orgasm.

  Filled both front and back, with the only separation a thin wall of sensitive tissue, Kayden knew blessed oblivion was just around the corner. She closed her eyes, shutting off one of her senses to elevate the others and better experience every facet of this first-time experience. She wanted to remember everything, down to the tiniest detail.

  The smell of their mingled arousal.

  The roll of his powerful hips as his pelvis pushed off her ass.

  The way his firm stomach bumped against the base of the plug, forcing it deeper.

  The hot, glorious glide of his claiming penetration as her pussy swelled open to welcome the lusty invasion.

  At the first flutters of her impending climax, she opened her eyes. As much as she craved the explosion, she wanted to prolong and savor all the wonderful sensations thrumming through her body a bit longer.

  Apparently, Hunter wasn’t of like mind. As if he’d known what she was doing, he curled his body over hers, captured her clit between his fingers and pressing his face to hers, whispered, “Come for me. Now.”

  One pinch was all it took.

  Her orgasm hit with the intensity of a category five tornado. Blindsided, picked up, spun and spit back out, she was allowed precious few moments to catch her breath inside the eye of the storm before she was flipped onto her back and staring up into Hunter’s smiling face.

  “Not bad for starters,” he said, grabbing hold of her ankles, raising them to his shoulders and plunging into her again.

  * * * * *

  Cocooned in Hunter’s long wool coat, surrounded by his masculine scent, Kayden stared sightlessly out the cab’s backseat window. She couldn’t even remember what lie she’d fabricated for the club’s security guard to get him to call her a taxi. She doubted he would’ve been so amenable had he known whose bed she’d just slinked out of. Whatever the excuse was, it must have been believable. Much more so than the lies she’d been telling herself. The best one yet, that since she didn’t have a cowardly bone in her body, the reason for her sneaking off in the wee hours of the morning could be laid squarely at the feet of her stiff independence.

  Stiff? Ha! It was folding like a sapling in a hurricane. No, not folding, bending. Giving itself over to the stronger, dominant force and loving every submissive minute of it. That was the real truth. And it was scaring the hell out of her.

  She’d awakened in the middle of the night, draped cozily over Hunter’s large, rock-solid, warm body. More content than she’d ever felt in her life, she was tempted to close her eyes, snuggle down and drift back off. Mother Nature had other plans. She’d reluctantly peeled herself off Hunter and padded from the bed in search of the bathroom.

  If she hadn’t taken a good look in the mirror after washing her hands and face, she would probably still be at Club Kimberlite.

  The sight of the starry-eyed, wild-haired, sated female reflected back would have taken her to her knees were it not for Kayden’s tenacious grip on the marble sink. The woman she’d glimpsed had never looked happier. A woman who’d been fucked sore, suspended from hooks in the closet ceiling and flogged into a mind-blowing orgasm—twice, fingered in both her pussy and ass, at times simultaneously, and commanded to her knees to suck Hunter’s mouthwatering cock until her jaw ached. Then, and only then, allowed to savor the taste of his tangy come.

  Kayden didn’t want to know who that deranged woman was, but whoever she was, the shameless hussy was staying back at the club and this woman was going home to resume her hectic, sexually deprived but safelife.

  Two hours later, her flaming, tear-stained cheek mashed against the taxi’s cool back window, Kayden was ready to kill someone. The most likely candidate, the asshole who hadn’t properly secured the load of drywall in the back of his pickup truck. The smashed and scattered pieces now sucking up the winter slush in the middle of I-90. At this early hour, in any other city, it wouldn’t have been such a major problem. But this was Chicago. Traffic was never light.

  On second thought, maybe she should be thanking the asshole. He’d given her a reprieve from the submissive she-devil riding her conscience, sabotaging every logical, mental argument Kayden had erected in her path.

  Once unearthed, it wasn’t easy to ignore the truth, but if she caved and admitted deep down that she’d always secretly yearned to be that sexually submissive woman in the mirror, she’d then have to acknowledge the fear that she’d just walked out on the only man she could trust with that knowledge.

  Oh God, what if— “Damn it.”

  “Sorry,” the driver said, straightening from his sharp swerve to take advantage of a miniscule opening in the faster moving lane next to them. “You okay?”

  Kayden caught the man’s concerned gaze in the mirror and burst out in hysterical laughter.

  For the rest of the way, she could’ve sworn the man drove with one eye on the road and one in the rearview mirror. Hell, who could blame him after her maniacal display. Her hair bed-tossed, wearing a man’s overcoat and clutching onto her overnight bag like it contained money from a bank heist, h
e probably thought she’d escaped from a mental institution.

  Given all that, it was no big surprise that when they’d arrived at her apartment building and she asked him to wait until she ran up to get her money, he’d eyed her skeptically and shook his head.

  Desperate, she’d searched Hunter’s coat, hitting pay dirt in the inside breast pocket.

  “Thanks for bring me home safely.” Freeing the wad of money from the diamond-studded, gold money-clip, she peeled off several large bills into the man’s pudgy walnut-toned hand. When his thick black eyebrow flew up, she added another hundred.

  What the hell, the driver had earned it, having to put up with her lunacy. And Mr. Hotshot I-own-a-diamond-mine Trielle could well afford it. Besides, it was his fault she found herself in this mess, both physically and mentally.

  If she hadn’t been so upset, she would’ve planned her escape better. Money being at the top of her essentials list. She’d hold the expensive clip and the rest of his loot hostage in exchange for her forgotten laptop.

  By the time she trudged into her apartment, dropped the coat and bag next to the bed and tumbled onto the sheets, she was more than ready to embrace her exhaustion. There’d be plenty of time to sort through her emotional turmoil in the lonely days ahead. Plenty of time to decide which of the two women warring inside her would reign supreme and take her rightful place in the world.

  Chapter Ten

  Without knocking, Simon stepped into Hunter’s office, took one look at his friend’s appearance and laughed.

  Unfazed by the glare targeting him as he strolled into the room and plopped himself in the chair in front of the desk, he hooked his booted foot on the opposite knee and relaxed back. “Sorry, pal. But I can’t remember you ever looking so—”

  “Disheveled,” Hunter supplied.

  Simon crunched his nose. “Actually, scruffy was what I was going for. The last time I saw you like this was after that three-week cabin stint with that nympho sub you trained for Romeo Luigi.” Simon whistled. “I’d have liked to have been a fly on the wall for that one.”

  Hunter lips twitched. “With most women, the challenge is to get them to leave their legs open, making them accessible to their men. With her, it was teaching her when to keep them closed.”

  “Whatever happened to her anyway?”

  “Romeo married her.”

  Simon sat up straighter. “No shit?”

  The men shared a laugh, though Hunter sobered much faster.

  “She’s really got your guts tied up in knots, doesn’t she?”

  There was no reason to clarify, since they both knew it was Kayden they were speaking of.

  Blowing out a deep breath, Hunter raked his fingers through his hair, adding little to the damage already present.

  “Why don’t you just go and get her? If your instincts about her being submissive are right—and I can’t imagine they’re wrong—she’ll obey.”

  “It would work on another woman, not Kayden.”

  “Why, because she’s strong, independent and bullheaded? You’ve broken tougher.”

  “I don’t want to break her. And, yes, she’s all that, but mostly she’s afraid to face the truth. And knowing her as I do, trying to force her to face that she was born to be a submissive will only make her deny it more adamantly. If she’s to be my wife, she needs to come to me of her own free will…without doubts.”

  “So you’re just going to sit here in your self-imposed misery and wait?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what are you going to do?”

  “I’ve already done something. I’ve sent her a gift.”

  * * * * *

  “Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Trista asked, seated with Morgan, Shayla, Kendra and Harley in a semicircle around Kayden’s desk.

  Kayden stared down at the thin, flat box sporting a big white bow as if it contained anthrax.

  It had been two whole, long soul-searching weeks since she’d come to work the Monday morning after escaping Hunter to find her laptop already returned. She’d looked at it and broke down. Immediately surrounded by her five supportive friends, she’d spent the next hour sobbing out a slightly abridged version of why she’d walked out on her fantasy. Denied a few very important details in relation to her true feelings, they’d unanimously supported her decision to forget Hunter.

  Until last night.

  When during one of those cursed alcohol-induced roundtable discussions, exactly like the one that had gotten her into this whole mess, she’d confessed there was the teensiest possibility she was falling in love with him. After a lengthy silence, she’d squinted through the martini haze clouding her vision. When she’d finally fine-tuned all five of their shocked expressions, she’d attempted a quick backpedal by saying, “But that’s crazy, right? No one falls in love at first sex!” She’d been the only one who’d laughed.

  “Well?” Kendra prompted, tapping out a Morse code routine on the edge of the desk with a long, glittery-red fingernail.

  Resigned to the inevitable, Kayden sighed. “Okay.” She lifted the lid off the box and stared down at the envelope. Not that there was any doubt who’d sent it. If there had been, the bold H T next to the large triangular diamond embossed in the left corner would have laid it to rest. Setting the envelope aside, she extracted the black velvet box inside.

  When Shayla helpfully pushed the outer box aside, Kayden set the other in its place and opened the hinged lid.

  Struck speechless by its contents, she gave the box a half-turn so the others could see.

  Comments flew in rapid succession.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “I’ve never seen a red diamond before. Must be worth a small fortune.”

  “Does he have a single brother?”

  “Breathtaking.”

  “Are you going to keep it?”

  It was the last whispered question by Morgan that drew Kayden from her mind-spinning stupor.

  “I…I think I should give it back.”

  Trista folded her arms on the desk and leaned in. “Given who the man is and what he represents, I believe your taking it back is the point. I also think it’s not your everyday run-of-the-mill necklace. And I’m not referring to the gargantuan red diamond.”

  No, not a necklace, a collar. Three impressive rows of half-inch onyx squares linked together by dozens of small, brilliant triangular diamonds—points down to symbolize female power. Her gaze dropped to the mind-staggering triangular red diamond, hanging off the center bottom onyx—point up. She ran a marveling finger over the unique gem.

  Having shared a good portion of her research with her friends, she wasn’t surprised when Shayla asked, “What do you think it means?”

  “You mean other than, thank you, Lord, there’s hope I won’t have to marry a computer geek in my search for a rich husband?” Harley’s attempt at humor earned her five sour looks, which she shrugged off.

  “I think it means Hunter acknowledges and respects her female power,” Kendra said in hushed tones.

  Kayden smiled at her insightfulness. “And the lower placement of male power signifies the female power is not subdued, but an extension of.”

  “Are you going to go back to him?” A die-hard romantic, Shayla’s eyes glittered with hope.

  “I’m not sure.” She picked up the envelope and stared down at the lettering across the front. Not her name, but ONYX. “I’d like some time alone to think.”

  Once the others had filed out after a round of supportive hugs, she opened and read the letter. She expected to find an explanation for why he’d written onyx. What she found was…

  Deny it all you want. Deep down, you know what you truly are and running away won’t change the fact that you are and always will be submissive. My submissive.

  —H

  * * * * *

  There was no knock on his office door before it swung open, so Hunter didn’t bother looking up from the article he was reading in the latest is
sue of TLI. He didn’t even know why he was reading it. Except that he somehow felt a connection with Kayden when he did.

  “If you’ve come to gain some perverted amusement at my expense, Simon, you can just turn your sorry ass around and head back the way you came.” Having reached the end of the list of the ten top things women look for in a man, Hunter snorted and flipped the page.

  “Something wrong with the article?”

  The soft feminine voice had his head snapping up. “Kayden?” He drank in the sight of her. “How did you get in without—”

  “Actually, Simon was on his way in, but when he found out who I was, he convinced your assistant to let me surprise you.”

  Closing the magazine and sliding it aside, Hunter hit his intercom button. “Elizabeth.”

  “Yes Sir?”

  “Is Simon still there?”

  “Yes Sir.”

  “Then tell him not to go far. I don’t want to waste time tracking him down when I come to kill him.”

  Hunter pulled his finger off the button, cutting off a stream of robust, male laughter.

  Kayden’s lush lips turned up at the corners, eliminating all thoughts of Simon.

  “Don’t get up,” she said, forestalling his attempt to rise. She stepped farther into the room. Focused on her cherished face, it wasn’t until she moved that he noticed the large, cloth bag she was carrying by the handle.

  She came as far as the chair in front of his desk, stopped and set the bag on the seat.

  “Why are you here?” Hunter kept both feet planted on the floor and his clenched hands on his thighs, resisting the unsophisticated urge to lurch to his feet, vault over the desk and capture her in his arms.

  “I’m here for a couple of reasons. I have some questions and a few things to give back to you.”

  Having a pretty good idea what one was, the hope that bubbled up in his chest at first seeing her deflated.

  She flipped her hair over her shoulder and bent over the bag. The diamond from the earrings he’d given her winked back at him. He drew some consolation from the fact she apparently didn’t intend to return all his gifts.

  “Your coat.” She straightened and laid the pile of neatly folded black wool on the corner of his desk. “I would have sent it back with the money, but it was out being cleaned. Thank you for the prompt return of my laptop.”