Wargasm (Payne Brothers Romance Book 3)

by Sosie Frost

  “What does it matter?”

  “It matters.”

  “Not now.”

  “Especially now. Why did you lie?”

  I didn’t look at him. “How could I tell you I’d failed?”

  “I would have understood.”

  “But you still don’t. At that moment, I hated music. I wanted to be rid of it.” I held his gaze. “But I never wanted to be rid of you.”

  I was never so glad to see a head full of dreadlocks. Ben brushed up beside me, his eyes widening as Anthony glowered at him.

  “I gotta go,” I said. “We’re going to start again.”

  Ben nearly pissed himself under Anthony’s stare. “Uh, that’s okay. We’ll cover for you for twenty or so. Caitlyn can play piano, and we’ll accompany. Had a few songs tucked away in case we couldn’t get you to come.”

  He hurried away. I sighed. I couldn’t handle twenty more seconds with Anthony. Who knew what would happen in twenty minutes.

  “Come with me, pet.” Anthony took my hand. “I’m tired of being watched.”

  His confession stopped my heart.

  And I let him lead me away to experience every mistake we’d made all over again.

  He found a dark, unused room beyond the party, but he didn’t turn on the lights.

  I frowned. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be in here—”

  Anthony grabbed me, capturing me in a kiss so intense I had to clutch at him to stay standing. My fists dug into his jacket, and his tongue flicked over mine.

  In an instant, my entire world caved around me.

  I collapsed into his arms, allowing the intrusion and welcoming the heat of his skin, the feel of his arms entangling my body against his. He bit my lip.

  Then, reality.

  I pushed against him, breaking the kiss with a strangled yelp.

  “Stop. What are you doing?”

  His hands gripped my dress. I imagined the material tearing out from under his fists, and I eased my protests. He sunk against my lips, murmuring his words against the betraying warmth swarming my body. Heat clouded my remaining shred of rationality.

  I let him kiss me.

  “I missed you,” he grunted.

  His lips pressed hard against mine. Demanding and possessive and so perfectly, deliciously Anthony that my body surrendered in memory for him.

  “I missed you too.”

  “I was fucking stupid to let you go.”

  True, but, as his stormy kisses migrating from my neck to my ear and back to my mouth, my voice lost itself in need.

  He gripped my waist, and he hauled me onto a table. I couldn’t see him in the dark, but I felt exactly where he was. Spreading my legs. Pressing against my body.

  He pushed me. Wanting me to lay across the table. I shook my head.

  “We can’t do this,” I whispered. “We have to stop.”

  “I didn’t want you to leave.” He kissed me again, wrapping my legs around his waist. His hands slid over my dress. Over my thighs. Between my legs.

  And then he was there, pressing.

  I bit my lip. “I had to go.”

  I braced myself against his fingers. He rubbed my panties. Could he feel the wetness? The heat? My crippling need?

  “It was just a fight.” My panties moved aside. He adjusted his pants, and the familiar sensation pressed against me. His cock rubbed against my wetness.

  “It was more than a fight—”

  I gasped as he entered me.

  My head fell back. My body panicked almost as much as my mind.

  It had been so long since I took him. I tightened around the invasion.

  I needed to adjust. Just a minute to breathe and figure the events that had taken me from my music stand and into a dark room in the middle of a party where my ex-dom took me in the shadows.

  He didn’t give me that time. He thrust his entire length inside me with one demanding strike. His kiss silenced my moan as his hips drove into me.

  The heat pulsed in my core. I met his movements with a delirious plea for more of anything and everything he offered.

  Harder, deeper, faster, it didn’t matter. I groaned into his mouth and rocked against him. He pounded into me, taking what he desired.

  Again, he pushed my shoulders. He wanted me down. To present myself to him. To give in and let him fuck me as he’d done before.

  I couldn’t do that. Not now. Not while I battled the music and apprehension and his touch.

  His scent coiled over me like restraints. Everything inside me clenched with an unknown pleasure.

  “Why did you leave?” He rasped against my lips. He didn’t stop moving, never stopped thrusting. I clutched at him for a sense of stability, so I could find the words not yet claimed by whimpers.

  “Because you’re Anthony.” My words only encouraged him. He pounded against the table, bottoming out deep inside of me and forcing my sounds to clip on the razor thin edge of pleasure. “You are the only person I ever wanted to please.”

  “I did it wrong.” Again he tried to push me down. I didn’t let him. He fucked me harder, and my whispers became hushed moans. “I wanted you because you were innocent. Because you weren’t like the other women at Duchess. I wanted an honest sub who was with me because she cared for me, not the scene. I had it, and I ruined it.” Now he did stop, pulling me down against his length and bumping his forehead to mine. “All you had to say was that you were scared. I would have helped.”

  “Maybe. Probably. I don’t know.”

  “I would. I will. I want you.”

  I knew what he wanted. My submission. He was dangerously close to getting it too.

  My body screamed at me, begging me to rest on the table and let my master do all the wonderful and frightening things he did so well.

  But I refused. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and I held his stare, enduring the growls and the tightened grip and the brutal fucking my challenge had tempted.

  I wouldn’t submit, but he ripped the orgasm from me. His cock slammed against the delicate parts inside me too many times to count. The buildup hit me like one solid crack of a belt—instant pressure, pain, and a blinding sensation that fractured me into a thousand tiny pieces of Morgan, each shattering with their own pleasures and rolling shivers.

  Anthony squeezed my waist, punishing me for my insolence. I slammed against him, practically suspended on the table and forced to take every amazing inch.

  My voice cracked over his name, and he rammed inside me, as deeply as he could get.

  He came.

  His heat splashed within my core, and he kissed me, grunting and murmuring my name and his apologizes until they meant one and the same.

  Then, the silence crashed over us, and I realized what we did.

  He pulled away, sheathing his hardened cock and adjusting his hair. I shimmied into my dress once more. I had no idea how much time passed, but I was certain I ran out of it. He stepped away, letting me close my legs.

  I groaned. I was a mess, but I could only slap on my panties and hope for the best.

  “Pet…”

  The nickname resonated in my head. I loved and loathed it, but this time, I ignored it.

  “I have to get back,” I said.

  “Find me after.”

  He kissed me again. I swallowed, offering a little nibble, but not a promise.

  I didn’t let him say anything else. I rushed from the room, hoping I didn’t look like I just made the biggest mistake of my life. Simone grabbed me before I could sneak into the party. I refused to speak, but she wasn’t interested in me anyway. She wove a straying lock of my hair into my braid and shoved me off. I looked back as she readjusted Anthony’s tie. His eyes followed me to the stage.

  Caitlyn smirked when I gingerly returned to my chair.

  “Some talk,” she said.

  I seized my violin, as much of a body guard as I could get. So much for avoiding Anthony.

  We played for another two hours, though hell if I cou
ld remember any of it. The redundant rehearsals were a blessing, as was my ear for Hey Jude as I completely lost track of the number of NaNaNaNas.

  My mind replayed the scene in the back room, only now realizing anyone might have walked in on us—Duchess related or no. Not like it mattered. No one would have recognized us. We acted like animals. Passionate. Foolish.

  Unaware of the disastrous repercussions for our broken lives.

  Everything we might have salvaged was lost in a few minutes of frantic fucking.

  Sex with a dom in the middle of a fetish club was enough of a mistake for one lifetime. Fucking a man who’d stripped me to my core and counted my faults did not foster a healthy partnership.

  Ben announced the final song of the night—a beautiful ballad of At Last as requested by Nate for his wife. I loved the rendition, but this time the notes meant more than a song on a piece of paper.

  Mariah wove within Nate’s arms like a fairy tale, resting her head on his shoulder for the duration of the dance. Her smile was so happy, so delicate, my fingers ached as I struggled to clutch the violin bow.

  I wanted what they had and not an ounce less.

  The domination, the submission, and the three little words I’d feared to tell Anthony.

  The song ended. I burst into motion as Ben thanked everyone. Riotous cheers erupted from the patrons of Duchess, spurred on by Reed and his damned lighter.

  My violin packed up in record time, and I bolted from the stage and out to the dressing room before the others. A side exit led to the parking lot where we’d stowed our cars—far from the valet-parked Mercedes. Only a few lights glistened over the lot, and I rushed into the night before checking who waited for me.

  Anthony leaned against my car, arms crossed.

  Even in the dim light, I knew he wasn’t happy. Neither was I.

  My feet hurt, and my head ached. I’d worked a full shift before the party, and my body shuddered with the lasting effects of his attentions.

  But I didn’t say anything. I walked to him, gently setting my violin on the ground.

  “You were just going to leave?” he asked.

  “I didn’t trust us talking again,” I said. “We’d probably just have sex in the Mercedes.”

  “I don’t have sex in my car. It’d tear the leather.”

  Figured.

  “Here.” I dug in my purse for a folded check. The amount scared the hell out of me, and it was far too early to give it to him, but I didn’t have any other choice. “Take it.”

  “What is it?”

  “I’m repaying you for the car repairs.”

  Anthony studied the check before ripping it into two, perfectly equal parts. He handed the pieces back to me as my eyes prickled with tears.

  Stalemate.

  “You’re going to leave again,” he said. “You’re good at that.”

  “It’s over, Anthony.”

  “Why?”

  I clenched the ruined check in my hand. It wasn’t goodwill. He knew I couldn’t afford it. Just another opportunity for him to rescue the innocent girl all alone in the bar.

  “I won’t be with a man who doesn’t respect me,” I said. “I can’t do this. Not anymore.”

  He glanced at my violin case. “You said I didn’t respect you.”

  “You didn’t deny it.”

  “Do I have to contradict every inane thing you say?”

  “Maybe the important things.”

  “I’m telling you now. Right now. I do respect you.”

  “It’s too late.”

  “Not for us.”

  He stood tall, but for the first time, I felt like we were on the same level.

  Heartbreak humbled us all.

  “I was supposed to show you this lifestyle,” he said. “I fucked it up. I thought I wanted the pretty little violinist, someone I could conquer and corrupt because it would be different from the willing women I could take at any time.”

  “And?”

  “I was an idiot. A bad partner and a worse dom. I don’t want you because you’re different—I want you because you’re the only person in this world to ever make me feel different. Happy. Enthralled. Humbled. I only want you. It’s my fault you left.” He clenched his jaw as I stayed silent. “You aren’t the only one who makes mistakes, Morgan.”

  The thought paralyzed me—grabbed my lungs, seized hold, and jiggled them until the only sound I could make was a strangled hiccup.

  “I want you,” he said. “Music or no music. College degree or cafe. It doesn’t matter.”

  “Yes, it does.” I looked up at him. “You can mold me into whatever submissive you desire, but you can’t change the person I am. And that’s what you wanted to do. That’s what you still want.”

  “I never wanted to change you. I wanted to encourage you. You were lost. You’re right. I didn’t understand that. I’ve never felt that way.” He sighed. “Not until you left me. And Christ, Morgan…I’m goddamned lost without you. I thought I knew who I was—but that life I’d made, the presence I project…it means nothing without the right woman at my side. Without you, it’s an act. A way to live my own life in hiding, without ever experiencing a challenge, without risking losing everything important. You are something special. I can’t buy you. I can’t replicate you. I can’t fucking breathe without you. This isn’t about dominance or submission, pet. It’s about us. Two people who need each other. Who worship each other. Who can fix the broken pieces into something beautiful and whole.”

  I couldn’t surrender to those words.

  I had to be strong.

  For me. For us.

  “This was the first time I actually tried to make a musical career for myself.” I explained because, for the first time, I realized he’d understand. “And instead of breaking out on my own, I performed for you and your friends.”

  “Why is that bad?”

  “It isn’t fair. Duchess was my escape. This whole fling was something to distract me. I crawl back into music and—bam. There you all are. Music and Duchess. They’re forever entwined now.”

  “Then don’t separate them,” Anthony said. “That world is a part of you now. Don’t hide from it. You are a natural submissive, Morgan. You belong with me as much as you belong in music.”

  “And what if one day I realize music isn’t for me?”

  “Do you really think that’s possible?”

  I clenched the check in my hand. “Maybe I can’t survive on it. It doesn’t pay well, and there aren’t many jobs. Maybe it’s the wrong path for me. What then?”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I can’t live my life if every decision I make is weighed on whether I think you’ll approve of it.”

  Anthony frowned. “I don’t want to make those decisions for you.”

  “But you will be making them. You don’t realize it, but you will be.” I tapped the violin case with a toe, if only to reassure myself it was still there. “I’ll be too afraid to make a mistake. To disappoint you.”

  “I’m in love with you.”

  I crumpled. An unstable breath that did absolutely nothing to ease the pressure.

  Not what I wanted to hear. Just what I needed, but it didn’t make any of it easier.

  “You won’t ever disappoint me,” Anthony said.

  “And if I fuck up again?” I blinked away a tear. “Would you still be saying this if you found me in the cafe and not here, playing violin and doing something with my life?”

  “Get in the car. We’ll go there together and find out.”

  I laughed. “Be serious.”

  He leaned down, gently kissing me. I didn’t resist, but he pulled away, holding my gaze.

  “You love me too.” He didn’t need to command the truth.

  “I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you, Anthony. But that doesn’t make this easier.”

  “No one said it would be easy.”

  Within seconds I was back where I started.

  Confused. Fucked
. Lost.

  Except this time, I was a thousand dollars richer. This time the exhaustion wasn’t brought on from serving coffee and losing my mind.

  I’d worked for these aches and pains. I’d played for the crick in my neck and the blister on my hand.

  This time I didn’t perform for the silence of my apartment, the approval of Anthony, or the sexual enjoyment of a club full of strangers.

  I played music for me.

  And I’d loved every minute of it.

  “Do we pretend that this fight never happened?” I met his gaze. “Ignore it until my next major life decision? Bide our time until my inevitable freak out?”

  Anthony’s authority no longer quivered my stomach. It soothed me, eased my fears, and allowed me to take my first deep breath in months.

  “You know exactly what you want in your life now.”

  I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “The only thing I want now is you, and I don’t know if that’s right or not.”

  Anthony faced me, his arms pinning me against the car. He swooped in low. I braced myself for the kiss that never came, a shiver rolling over my body.

  “It’s right,” he whispered. “And natural. And perfect. I’ll do better. Take my time with you and show you this lifestyle properly. I’m sorry, Morgan, pet, but I can’t give you up. Not now that I found you. The real you. Now say it, pet.”

  I swallowed, my voice soft. Honest.

  More frightened and confident than I had been in years.

  Life Goal Number Twelve: Never hide the truth from him.

  “I love you, Anthony.”

  His eyebrow arched, quirked with irritation.

  Wow. That hadn’t taken long. Ten seconds together, and I’d already made a mistake.

  But I didn’t panic. Not now that I understood my life, our love, and every delicious complication that came with it. I knew what he expected, and it came as naturally as breathing.

  I apologized with a brief downward glance. He kissed my forehead.

  “I love you too, sir.”

  The End

  (Bonus Epilogue Coming In May…)

  Bonus Epilogue!

  Can’t get enough of Anthony and Morgan?

  You’re in luck! We have a super special secret epilogue available in June 2018! Sign up HERE for our mailing list, and we’ll send you a FREE bonus epilogue featuring…