Falling for the Forbidden: 10 Full-Length Novels

by Jessica Hawkins

  “Let’s be clear with each other, Willow. You want to indulge in some impact play and lose yourself. I’ll do my damnedest to please you. One more thing.” He paused for a moment. “If you want to get your needs met tonight, it will be with me and no other man. Am I clear?”

  He captured her gaze. It would be smarter to go back to her hotel. Scening with a man as forceful as him would be madness. Already, he’d made an indelible claim on her, and she was far too smart to allow this to go any further.

  Wasn’t she?

  Chapter Three

  In the course of his thirty-two years on the planet, Jax had taken a lot of risks…all of them calculated. He’d also made a handful of unfortunate dumbass decisions. But until now, not a damn one of them had been made by his dick.

  He shouldn’t be thinking about taking his friend’s daughter upstairs to a private room, baring her ass, then spank it. Yet that was precisely what he was going to do.

  Some fucking hero I am.

  “What will it be, Willow?”

  When she spoke, her words resonated with confidence, bringing him to his knees. “Yes. I want to play with you.”

  He eased off the barstool and offered his hand. This time, she took it. He leaned forward so that his mouth was near her ear before he said, “I’m giving you one last chance to run.”

  The desire in his eyes made her shiver. “Are you planning to hurt me?”

  “Very much so. In the exact ways you want.”

  “Then why are you warning me away?” Breathlessness weaved through her words, curiosity and wariness mixing.

  “For a million reasons. Especially because I respect your father.”

  She angled her chin and delivered a ferocious scowl. He schooled himself not to respond.

  “You picked a fine time to discover some integrity, Jax.”

  He imagined she hoped to offend him. “If I may continue…?” He didn’t wait for permission before going on, this time with steel in his words. “This is a matter of integrity. I don’t care whether you think I have any or not. Without Brian’s belief in me, Jaxon Media wouldn’t be where it is today. I owe him a debt. If we go forward, you’ll be mine.”

  “I don’t belong to anyone.”

  “That’s why I’m offering you the last chance to tell me to go to hell. If you don’t, you might regret it.”

  “Your conscience is annoying, Jax.”

  All his life, Jax had avoided entanglements. He’d seen what had happened to his dad, after his mother had given up, abandoning her kid and the man who’d knocked her up and refused to marry her. His father had drunk too much, struggled to keep a job after the coal mine closed up, brought home too damn many women, some who hadn’t known he had a kid. Jax learned use a can opener when he was four, the stove when he was five. At nine, a teacher had recommended him for a summer camp, the first really good thing that had happened to him. He’d gotten out of the hellhole of a trailer where he lived, and he’d been served both breakfast and lunch every day. Best of all, he’d learned how to record videos. He’d attended some acting sessions and received voice coaching. Once the little light on a camera started blinking, he turned into a different person—someone he wanted to be. He thrived on the attention his videos garnered. It became his obsession, the thing that helped him hang on.

  He began teaching others what he knew, running their sites, earning money and hoarding it beneath his shabby mattress so his dad didn’t find it. Jax was fifteen when his father discovered the cash. He’d called his son vile names before beating the shit out of him.

  With a black eye and broken ribs, Jax had grabbed his camera and the forty bucks that his old man had missed. The screen door had slammed behind him. Doubled over, his father shouting curses from their rickety front porch, Jax limped away, and he hadn’t ever looked back.

  Every day, he got in front of his first love, his savior—the camera—and recorded something. It was as essential to him as breathing. Willow was right. A lot of his words were fucking harsh. Too bad. So was life. He had no time for coddling. Grinding was the only way to beat the odds stacked against success. It meant pushing all the time, and all the time, he reminded himself and his subscribers of that.

  Through the years that he’d fought through poverty and hunger, he never lost sight of his goal. Security. For that reason, he’d avoided entanglements.

  Until now, he’d never been tempted.

  Until Willow.

  “What’s it to be?” he asked. If she agreed, he was stepping onto a forbidden path. And there’d be no turning back for either of them. “Frustration or satisfaction?”

  “No matter what, I’m afraid I’m going to end up disliking you.”

  No doubt. Right now, he had a lot of power. “It’s a risk I’m prepared to take.”

  For a long time, she studied him, contemplating.

  “Are you at least a halfway decent Dom?”

  “Am I as…?” His mouth twitched. “I’ve never had any complaints.”

  “If you’re going to ruin my life, you’d better make it worth my while.”

  “Princess, you have my word that you won’t go back to school unsatisfied.” He extended an inviting hand toward her.

  With a sigh, she pressed her palm against his.

  “So brave.” So foolish.

  She slipped from the stool and very nearly into his arms.

  Fuck if he didn’t want her there.

  Together, they walked back to the main reception area. Aviana wasn’t near the podium, but Trinity was. He knew very little about the woman, and he suspected she liked it that way. Her hair was a sleek hot-pink bob that fell over her face, often shielding her completely. Her eyes were violet, a color that didn’t exist in nature. And always, she wore a tight-fitting catsuit, either vinyl or PVC.

  She greeted them with a smile. “Something I can help you with, sir?”

  “We’d like a private room.”

  Trinity brushed back her hair and tucked it behind her ear. “You’re consenting, ma’am?”

  Had everyone heard about the minor altercation at the bar?

  “Yes.” Willow nodded. “Thank you for asking, Trinity.”

  Trinity grabbed a book from a shelf in the podium, then logged them in. “Room five.”

  “My lucky number.”

  “Please check back when you’re done.”

  After a promise to do so, he led Willow toward the coat-check room to collect his toy bag.

  While they waited, Willow turned toward him. “Five’s your lucky number?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “I earned five bucks for first video I shot. Kid at school was skateboarding, he wanted to see himself.”

  “Hustling even back then.”

  “Five led to fifty. Then five hundred.” And broken bones, but an unshakable determination.

  The clerk returned with his bag. Jax gave a tip, then looked at Willow. “Ready?”

  “Yes.”

  Her breathing had evened out, letting him know that she’d moved past her frustration—at least for the moment. He liked seeing this relaxed side of her.

  They pushed through the frosted-glass door into the dungeon and were swallowed by the pulsing sounds and sights. “How often do you attend?”

  “I’m not going to answer that.”

  Which meant it was pretty damn often, something he intended to put an immediate stop to. He tightened his grip on his bag. Another valuable lesson. Never ask a question unless you wanted to hear the answer.

  Near a Saint Andrew’s cross, her steps slowed, and she touched his forearm. “Can we watch for a moment?”

  “Of course.” It was the first time she’d touched him without his prompting. At this point, he’d gift wrap the moon and offer it to her on a star.

  A pretty submissive was secured with her back to the X-shaped frame. She was blindfolded, and dozens of clothespins pinched tiny pieces of skin. Her Dom was flicking them off one at a time with a crop,
each stroke making her scream in agony.

  Surprising him, Willow’s mouth was parted and her eyes were glazed. He had no doubt she would enjoy sensation play, even though she hadn’t indulged before.

  When all of the clips had clattered to the concrete floor, Willow exhaled, and she dropped her hand. There was so much he wanted to introduce her to, so many places they could go together. “Are you ready to go on?”

  They walked through the dungeon and pushed open the door leading to the U-shaped part of the Quarter and the stairs to the second floor. It was much quieter. Much more intimate.

  When they were halfway up, they paused at the landing. From here it was possible to survey the entire club. The dungeon was a hive of activity, thumping in time to the music.

  Two rooms were occupied in Kinky Avenue. In one, a sub wearing a thong and pasties was fastened into the stocks, and her gaze was fixed on the Dom in front of her as he sorted through his collection of canes.

  “Perfect for voyeurs,” Jax said.

  “Is that one of your kinks?”

  “From time to time, yes. I enjoy participating, but I also admit I love watching a woman surrender. I get a kick from all of her reactions, joy, fear.” Willow’s head was tipped back. Her hazel eyes were wide, and her wariness had been replaced with interest, stroking his already massive ego. “I’m particularly looking forward to watching the striptease you’re going to perform for me.”

  Color danced onto her face. For a woman who was bold enough to visit the Quarter and ask strange men to flog her, she had an air of innocence about her. He appreciated the fact that she had a no-penetration rule. It meant he didn’t have to look at every Dom with suspicion and find out whose ass he needed to kick. “Have you seen enough?”

  She swallowed. “Yes. I’m ready.”

  They continued up the stairs. Tore, Aviana’s most trusted dungeon monitor, stood at the entrance to the private rooms, arms folded across his massive chest. Like all other monitors at the club, his black vest was adorned with a gold fleur-de-lis.

  “Monitors check on the scenes from time to time,” Tore informed them.

  “Thank you.” Willow nodded.

  After stroking his beard, he stepped aside.

  Jax rested his fingertips against her back, on her exposed skin, right above the waistband of her skirt. She hissed in a breath. And like each time they touched, sexual force pulsed through him—something alive, something he wanted to mainline.

  At the entrance to their room, she waited for him open the door before preceding him inside.

  The walls were painted a neutral color, which left the spanking bench as the main focus. Pleasing him, she went to it and trailed her hand across the top.

  After placing his bag on the side table that was made from surgical steel, Jax dragged a chair to the center of the room. “Talk to me, Willow, at any time. You won’t be gagged.” He paused. “This time.” As certain as the sun would rise, he would dominate this innocent again.

  Her tiny gasp pleased him—fear wrapped in a gentle plea.

  “Now for the show you’re going to put on for me. Please remove your shoes.” He sat and steepled his hands in front of him.

  He expected some hesitation. To his delight, she showed none. She wanted this as much as he did.

  With her gaze on him, watching his reactions, she lifted one foot and tugged off the black stiletto. She had exquisite balance, and she had taken his words about a striptease to heart. The shoe fell to the floor with a sensuous thud.

  She repeated the process with the second shoe before scooping them up and tucking them beneath his chair.

  He inhaled her fresh scent. It reminded him of spring. Rebirth and hope. Over the years of being surrounded by people as ambitious as he was, she provided a respite he hadn’t known he needed.

  Willow returned to where she’d been standing and reached behind her to lower the zipper on her skirt. She let go of the leather all at once, sending it swishing past her hips.

  She stood before him in a T-back thong, the barest scrap of lace covering her pussy.

  Rather than revealing that bit of herself, she moved closer to him.

  What in the fuck was she thinking?

  She straddled his knees, not lowering herself, but leaning her upper body toward him. “You asked for a striptease, Sir.”

  What in the fuck had he been thinking?

  Willow skimmed her hands up her ribs to take hold of her crop top. As she pulled it up, she gyrated her body. His cock swelled, pushing hard against his zipper. When she’d said no penetration, he’d had no idea how difficult that might prove to be.

  She dropped the garment on top of his head in a brash, sassy move he admired.

  Jesus. She was sexy. Her breasts were plumper than he’d thought, and her dusky nipples were large, pink, and already erect.

  “Damn it, Willow. You’d better tell me you’ve never done this before.” He’d never experienced jealousy before. And now, with her, it had happened twice. It destroyed him, a hated, all-consuming emotion, blurring his vision.

  As if she understood how much this mattered to him, she cradled his head. “You’re the first.”

  “And the last.” He dragged her against him, patience at an end. “Give me your breasts, princess.”

  “Yes.” She lowered herself onto his lap, her heat against his crotch.

  Obediently she cupped one of her breasts in her palms. Driving him wild, she rubbed a nipple on his face.

  He laved the swollen nub with his tongue. Her answering moan drove him on. He sucked her flesh into his mouth, increasing the pressure until she clung to him. “Rub out an orgasm.” He pinched her free nipple while he continued to torment the first. One of these days, he’d attach half a dozen clips to each of her breasts and take great pleasure in flicking them off.

  An innocent seductress with no idea how powerful she was, she moved against him, moaning, then whimpering when he sucked harder.

  When he sensed she was close, he switched to her other breast and squeezed the damp one hard between his thumb and forefinger.

  “Oh Jax…”

  His cock surged in response to her plaintive sigh, giving her something even harder to grind against. Even through her thong and his slacks, he felt her heat. She was exquisite.

  Her motions grew more frantic, and he responded, pinching and sucking harder.

  Less than a minute later, she tipped her head back, hair falling in wild abandon as she screamed. He’d been with plenty of women before, but none as unselfconscious as her.

  He eased off the pressure on her nipples by degrees so that the blood didn’t return with a painful wave. There’d be plenty of time to torment her later.

  She collapsed against him and dropped her head onto his shoulder. He held her, stroked her skin, and murmured, “You’re perfect.” Jax always provided aftercare for women he scened with, but he’d never enjoyed it this much.

  “That was…” When she finally roused, she flattened her palm on his chest and pushed herself back. She wore a self-satisfied smile. “You’re…”

  He filled in the silence. “An amazing Dom?

  “How does your head fit inside a room?”

  He waited for her to speak again.

  “You’re pretty darn good.”

  “That sounds tepid. I don’t do tepid.” He circled her tiny wrist with his fingers and returned her grin. “Challenge accepted.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  “You’re bewitching.” He dug his free hand into her hair to pull back her head so that she read the hungry intent in his eyes. Jax had never been hotter for a woman. “Time for your first spanking.”

  “First?”

  Chapter Four

  A tremor rocked through Willow, feeding desire. Discovering impact play had liberated her in a way nothing else had. At school, at her parents’ home, expectations were lovingly heaped on her. But once she entered a dungeon, she unleashed her inhibitions. She asked for what sh
e wanted and savored each moment. She refused to allow Jax’s threat to unburden his soul and admit he’d despoiled Brian Henderson’s daughter to ruin her evening. Right now, she craved her temporary Dom’s touch.

  When he drove away Stefan, she’d been pissed. But her breasts ached in a way they never had before. Other Doms were competent and had given her what she asked for, yet Jax had taken the time to notice what she liked in someone else’s scene. That he’d given her an orgasm before they’d really started made any future consequences worth it.

  “We’ll begin with my hand.”

  Her favorite. He had been paying attention.

  “You’re going to like it.” Certainty made his voice rough. “Ask for it.”

  “Please, Jax.” Since he still gripped her hair and her wrist, she recognized his strength. Terrifying. Delicious. “Spank me.”

  His eyes flared.

  He released her suddenly. Within seconds, she was over his lap, breath whooshing from her lungs. Yes. She touched her fingers to the smooth wood floor as anticipation unfurled. He stroked her thighs and buttocks in a warm-up that she’d be fine with skipping.

  His first few smacks were gentle, and she shifted restlessly, rising onto her toes and all but pressing her buttocks into his hands.

  He chuckled. “I told you I’m in charge.”

  The next smack blazed. She went rigid. It damn well hurt. And she exhaled in relief now that he’d established his dominance.

  “My speed, princess.”

  “Yes, yes. Your speed, Jax.”

  Point made, he continued the spanking in a rhythmic, ritualistic way. He covered her skin with kisses of pain, rubbing some away while exploiting others.

  Once her brain acknowledged he was trustworthy, she closed her eyes in surrender.

  The spanking was the best of her life. He went on forever, holding her tight to keep her in position and making her cry out even as she sighed her satisfaction.

  Her mind flew. Worries and stress floated away, as if wrapped in gossamer strands.

  She wasn’t even aware that he’d stopped until his voice penetrated her haze.

  “Come back, Willow.” He snapped his fingers near her ear, and she shook her head to clear the pink fuzz coating her brain.