by René, Dani
24
Peyton
When I woke up this morning, all I found was a note left on my pillow. He was gone before I opened my eyes, but when I took the note and sat in the kitchen, drinking the coffee he’d specially brewed knowing I’d wake up and want a mug, I read it with a smile on my face.
Kitten,
Wear the red silk dress. The one with a low back. No panties. Pink butt plug.
Your hair is to be pinned up, with strands framing your neck and face.
The jewelry you’re to wear is in the vanity, a black suede box.
Here’s the address.
Sir
The long dress shimmers in the faded yellow light of the ballroom. Everything is draped in diamonds and gold. The room itself is opulent, with chandeliers that hang low from the high ceilings. There are cream curtains framing the windows and patio doors.
Soft music plays from the live band sitting in one corner, and the waiters and waitresses are all decked in black and white. To an outsider, this would be just another lavish party, but to those who know, this is a meeting for Dominants and submissives, Masters and slaves, and people with other kinks who frequent Seven Sins.
I move through the room taking in each face, every smile and nod. Almost in my element, I don’t falter as I grab a flute of champagne from a passing tray. Sipping the bubbly liquid, I make a note of who’s here.
Dresses and suits remind me of a time when things were different. My parents used to throw parties like this all the time. Waiters stroll through the room offering champagne to the guests who are elegantly dressed, more so than I am. It’s utter decadence.
All Carrick’s early morning requests have been granted. I’m here, wearing exactly what he told me to. Sipping the champagne, I stroll through the crowd. Oliver is here with Chance and Leigh. Callan is with a pretty brunette. There are people I don’t know, don’t recognize.
Savvie and Mason are here as well, but they’re performing. Putting on a rope play show for the masses. I watch for a moment, the fluidity of her body, the way Mason’s hands care for her as he binds her to the hooks in the ceiling. She’s weightless, like a bird.
My phone buzzes in my purse. When I take it out, I find a message from Rick.
The balcony to your left is where you’ll find me.
Lifting my gaze, I find the double doors cracked open, wide enough for me to slip through. My body tingles as I walk. The plug in my ass makes me feel full, and I wonder what on earth Carrick has planned.
Even though I don’t wear his ring, I know deep down we’ll be together forever. Upon reaching the balcony, I find it bathed in darkness, but I don’t see anyone else here. I reach the edge, my hands trembling when I set the glass down and grip the railing.
When I lean over, I take in the immaculate gardens lit by lamps all the way down a small path. I’m not sure where it leads, but I’m intrigued to find out.
“Kitten.” A low, husky growl comes from behind me. When I turn, I find Rick dressed in a black tux, white dress shirt, with a black bowtie. He looks like a prince. As if he’d just stepped out of the pages of a fairytale.
“Sir.” I smile. He’s holding something, but I can’t tell what in the low light. His approach is slow, confident. When he reaches me, he lifts his hand, his knuckles gently trailing over my cheek, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“I’ve bought you something,” he tells me. The box he’d been holding is small, rectangular, so I know it’s not a ring. Both elation and disappointment attack me. I take it from him, lifting my gaze to his. “Open it.” His voice is strained, and I wonder why.
When I snap the lid open, I find a thin silver choker with a pendant in the middle. It’s cute, a small paw like shape. “This is--” I murmur. Stroking the metal, I lift it from its velvet cushion. It’s only then I notice the pink gem on the paw. When I turn it over, inscribed on the pendant are the words:
Carrick’s Kitten.
I snap my gaze to his in shock.
“You’re mine. This means you’ll always be mine. I’m collaring you, Peyton Moore. I’m devoting my time, my life, and my heart to you. All that’s mine is yours.”
Tears sting my eyes at his words. I swallow the lump in my throat and respond, “And all that’s mine is yours. My life, my heart, and my body.”
His eyes hold affection. Emotion so profound it steals my breath. The dark rings under his eyes tell me he’s not been sleeping. His disheveled hair, clothes, everything about him screams broken.
He takes the choker, unfastens the clasp, and drapes it around my neck.
“You know” --he smiles, stepping back as he regards me-- “all those days without you, I had time to think. Time to relook at what I believed in. Yes, I love you. There’s no doubt about that. You’re the only woman in my heart right now. But, I haven’t truly pushed you outside that comfort zone.”
“Until tonight,” I offer. He knows I’m bare under this dress. He ordered it.
“Yes.” He grips my hips, spinning me around to face the crowd, while he stands behind me in the shadows. “Lean against the railing and watch them,” he orders, his body lowering behind me.
“Rick, what are you doing?” I question, but he ignores me. His hands lift the hem of my dress, his mouth blowing hot on the back of my thighs, and I realize he’s about to make me come in front of everyone. Only, they can’t see me. But the fact that anyone can walk out here at any moment makes my heart leap into my throat.
His hands are on me, opening the cheeks of my ass. His hot, wet tongue delves into my pussy from behind, and I can’t help but whimper. He tugs and turns the plug, heightening my pleasure to unbearable levels. My body responds, my arousal soaking his fingers that are taunting me playfully.
“If you don’t want them to hear you, then you’ll be quiet, Kitten,” he whispers over my wet core. Two fingers tease me as they stroke my slick entrance. My eyes flutter as pleasure zips through my body. My nerves crackle with electric need.
“Peyton.” The rough voice of Callan O’Leary comes from the doorway, causing me to snap my eyes open. His gaze roves over me as he lights his cigarette. The cherry burns a bright red, glowing in the dark.
“I . . . Callan, I came here to be alone,” I manage to mumble through the sensations of Rick’s mouth suckling my pussy and his fingers dipping in and out. He pumps them faster and faster, and I know he’s trying to make me come while his brother is only a few feet away.
He chuckles. “And that’s why my brother is devouring your pussy?” His chin lifts in gesture toward me, but his eyes remain fixed on mine.
“I . . .” I’m not sure how to respond so I don’t.
“He’s always been one to push boundaries,” he tells me easily as if I’m not currently having my body played with. “All the while I knew him, he didn’t allow conventions to hold him back.”
He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he nears me, leaning on the railing beside me as Carrick dips his fingers into me so deep it causes me to mewl. My hands grip onto the railing, my knuckles white with tension. Callan’s eyes meet mine. They hold humor as his brother sends me to the edge.
“You sound beautiful, Peyton. You’re quite the naughty girl, aren’t you?” he murmurs. My knees wobble as I lean in to him. He’s so close. My hands grip his shoulders, and he allows me to. He doesn’t smile or acknowledge me other than staring at me as he puffs his smoke.
I’m so close. I feel the tightening in my core. Carrick must feel it too because he stops suddenly, pulling away from me. He rises behind me. “You’re so delicious, Kitten,” he coos in my ear as his brother calmly allows the white smoke to billow from his mouth. “Hello, Callan.” Both brothers just smile. My cheeks are flushed with embarrassment as I regard both men. My gaze darting between them. “What are you doing out here?”
“Needed a smoke. Beautiful whimpers coming from her, Rick. I was eager to hear her cry out,” Callan says, turning his gaze on us in amusement. My mouth drops open as I glar
e at him.
“Are you crazy?” I squeak in shock at his words.
“Indeed, I am.” His answer holds no apology. He shrugs as if it’s normal to watch your brother’s girlfriend being eaten out while you have your smoke. “You see, Peyton, my brother is the good one. Me?” He leans in, inhaling me for a moment before Rick’s growl behind me warns him off. “I’m the asshole who doesn’t have any morals. I fuck who and when I want. I love to watch as well. Seeing a woman come is the most beautiful thing on earth, and I don’t care if it’s my brother, my sister, or anyone else for that matter. I enjoy a good show when I see it.”
“That’s enough, Cal.” The warning is clear in Rick’s voice. He’s not impressed by his brother. Their eyes meet in a standoff, and I wonder what it is that’s happened between them. “I trust you to watch, but that’s it.”
“Oh. I know, brother. I’m not into blondes. Besides, the pretty little senator’s daughter is more than enough for me.” His chuckle is dark and dangerous. He’s definitely nothing like his brother. There’s something violent in his eyes, and I wonder if he’s into anything that Oliver is. A sadist, perhaps.
“Are you really messing with her?” Carrick questions, the frustration evident in his tone. “I told you not to piss off that family. I don’t care if she wants you or not.”
“I do what I want, Rick. You know that. You’ve always known that.” The tension between the brothers skyrockets. “I’m having some fun before I leave.”
“You’re leaving?” The question from Carrick brings both brothers back to earth, as if the thought of not having him around makes Rick worry. Sadness seeps from him as he grips my shoulders. “I thought you’d stick around?”
“I’ll think about it. Leigh is safe here with you. There’s no need for me to stay.” Callan drops his cigarette on the concrete and squashes it with his black boot. All the men inside, including Carrick, are dressed up, but Callan is wearing a black leather jacket, his shirt matching his charcoal eyes, and a pair of jeans I’m sure have seen better days.
He’s rough around the edges. With danger in his eyes. His dark hair is disheveled. The epitome of a bad boy. And I wonder if this girl he’s seeing has any inkling as to who he really is. A man who can easily end a life without a second glance.
“I’d like it if you do,” Carrick says. “Come Peyton.” He pulls me along as we make our way back to the party. The men inside are all clients of Sins. They’re the reason Carrick threw the party in the first place, to ensure they continue paying their membership to the club.
I learn this as we mingle with everyone. Carrick introduces me as his. I’m a possession. I smile. I shake hands, and all the while, I can’t stop thinking about the life I’m about to embark on.
Epilogue
My Kitten,
Do you recall the secrets I whisper across your flesh when you’re at work? Do the moments I penned my need over your skin with my hungry tongue play on in your mind? I want you to know, every minute I’m in my office, meant to be concentrating you’re on my mind. I crave one more taste, another minute to devour your poison I drink like I’m addicted.
I want to indulge in you, feast on every inch of your body until you’re crying for me to stop. You offered me your virtue, you begged me to steal it with my violence with soft whimpers and moans. Your body arched, bowed toward me hungry for every touch.
As I took more and more, I wrung you dry, but still it left me thirsty. Each drop of your essence bathed me, but I wasn’t pure. You weren’t my salvation. You were my destruction. You broke the cold man I was and showed me the desire that burned inside, crumbling my world to ash with your innocent flames.
Now, as we walk together toward a forever, you light my way. And I’ll never walk alone because even when we’re old I’ll still own your body, heart, mind. And you will forever own my heart and soul.
Love always,
Your Sir
I glance at the letter I’ve just finished writing for my woman. It’s filled with emotion, with my love for her. I’ve allowed my heart to pour the words onto the page. And it is only for her.
My life has passed by in a dark cloud of guilt, anger, and vengeance. There was never a time I believed it would change. There are moments in life when I wished for death. When I prayed a stray bullet would finally take me from this life and deliver me to the girl I lost. My heart wasn’t my own, she had taken it with her when she died.
At least . . . that’s that I believed.
I spent years indulging in everything to dull the ache of the space in my chest where my heart used to be. Each time I found another woman, I’d ensure she looked nothing like the one I lost. I made sure I was safe. From what? I don’t know. I knew I couldn’t fall in love again, so when I think about it now, I wonder what it is that I was hiding from.
Myself perhaps.
I drank, I fucked, and I killed.
I enjoyed it. I reveled in it.
Then I stumbled upon the blonde beauty who’s currently lounging in my office on the sofa. Her legs are crossed, and on them is a MacBook Pro where she’s currently doing the accounts for Seven Sins. Mason and I gave her a full-time job handling the details mainly because I can’t deal with the accountants and taxes, and he is more interested in hiring and firing the staff.
Peyton slammed into my life like a goddamn wrecking ball, and she knocked every wall I built to the ground. And in that rubble, she found me. She discovered my pain and healed it. She found my heart, and instead of giving it back to me, she kept it in her hands. Those delicate hands that can tempt me to give her anything she wants as long as she teases me just right. However, that’s after I’ve spanked her pretty ass.
“Are you going to stare at me all day?” she quips from the opposite side of the room, flicking her long, blonde waves over her shoulder. Her perfume, the scent of orchids, filters over to me, and I inhale her. She’s more than perfect. She has taken to this lifestyle like a fish to water, and when she submitted to me, I was in awe of how much love I could hold for someone.
Yes, I did love Aurora, there’s no doubt about that, but deep down, I now realize she was only a chapter in my story. She showed me this life didn’t have to be lonely. I could commit to a woman and give her the love she deserved. And that’s what I’m about to offer Peyton.
“I’ve been thinking,” I tell her. Rising from my chair, I head over to the bar. Grabbing the chilled champagne from the cooler, I pop the cork with a loud echo. I proceed to fill two glasses, both with a strawberry dipped in chocolate floating just below the rim.
“You have? And what pray tell have you been thinking?” she taunts me, using a fake English accent to tease me. I know she loves my voice. She tells me all the time, but she does love to attempt the accent, which is done so badly I cringe.
“Well,” I start, settling beside her on the sofa, handing her a flute. With one hand, I grip the laptop, setting it on the floor before turning back to her. “There’s this girl,” I tell her. “She’s beautiful, perfect in every way, and there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask her.”
Her mouth falls open, then shuts. Her green eyes that remind me of new spring leaves shimmer and widen as she watches me. “Carrick—”
“Six months ago, I offered her a contract,” I speak, clearly, confidently, but my heart rattles in my chest. “I gave her something I never thought I could give again.” When I meet her gaze, she’s blinked, and there’s a lone tear falling down her cheek I’m tempted to lick away. “In return, she gave me something I didn’t expect.” Lifting the glass, I gesture for her to do the same. “Now, I want to offer her another contract. This one however . . .”
I allow my words to taper into nothing as she gapes at me.
“This one is far longer than just a four-week trial.” I smirk when she blinks once more and the salty emotion trickles down her now flushed cheeks. Dropping to one knee, I take her delicate hand in mine and press a kiss to her knuckles. “Peyton Moore, will you do me the
honor of accepting my ring, my collar, and ultimately, my heart?”
Her body trembles as I gulp the champagne, my eyes on her. She doesn’t respond, sipping her drink slowly, but when she gets to the strawberry something just below it glitters.
“Oh god!” She gasps in shock, pulling the pink fruit from the glass. Attached to it is a five-carat diamond ring set with smaller pink diamonds surrounding it. She holds it between her thumb and forefinger, staring at it as if it’s about to attack her.
I take it, pulling a napkin from my pocket and wiping it until it’s dried and shiny. Holding it toward her, I take her left hand in mine. “So? Are you ready to be Mrs. Peyton O’Leary?” She nods, while tears stream down her beautiful face. “Words, Kitten. I need words.”
“Yes, yes, of course yes,” she mumbles while her trembling hand grips mine as if I’m her lifeline, and I plan to be. She is mine. Always has been.
I slip the ring on her finger with a smile on my face.
“Come here, wife.” I pull her onto me, letting her straddle my lap. “You’re so beautiful when you cry,” I tell her, my hands trailing down to her ass. I squeeze, tugging her closer until her heat is right at my crotch. I’m hard. Rock fucking solid.
“I have to work.” She glances back at the abandoned laptop.
“Fuck work,” I bite back. Reaching for her blouse, I rip it open, buttons popping in all directions. “I’m about to make love to my wife.” I lie her down. Shoving her skirt up toward her hips, I spread her thighs, finding a tiny scrap of material covering her pussy. With one harsh tug, it’s on the floor, and I’m leaning in to inhale my beautiful woman’s cunt.
Her slick entrance is temptation, and I’m about to indulge. My tongue darts out. Tentatively, I lick at her entrance, causing her hips to buck up toward my face. With both thumbs, I open her smooth lips and push my tongue into her. Warm, sweet juices drip from her onto my tongue, and I glance up at her big green eyes from between her thighs.