My Wicked Devil (Club Wicked) (5 page)

Confused, she took a small step away from Jesse. She wouldn’t look at that devilish man behind her, but she could almost feel his body, his energy reaching out to her. Heat crept up and down her back, like a whisper of fingers brushing her skin. Afraid of what she’d do when she was alone with the handsome Master, which probably included a hell of a blowjob, she gave Jesse a pleading glance. “But you just got here.”

“Darlin’, it isn’t me you’re here to see tonight.”

“Oh, okay.” Feeling very vulnerable, she swallowed hard and nodded. “I… Thank you, Jesse. No matter what, I appreciate you doing this for me.”

Giving her a grin, he ruffled her hair like a bratty older brother. “No problem, kid.”

With that, Jesse left, shutting the door behind them. Fake crickets continued to chirp, and she pretty much looked everywhere but at the other man. Not that it mattered; she could feel him getting closer. It was crazy, but his energy almost seemed to push at her.

“Kira, turn around.”

“I believe you have me at a disadvantage, Sir. I don’t recall your name.”

Well, she knew who he was, but she needed to say something to even the playing field between them. The command in his voice ordered instant compliance, and oh how she wanted to comply. But she needed to keep her head on straight, her feet firmly on the ground, and her mind in the game.

The smell of his cologne enveloped her a moment before he moved her hair off the side of her neck. The move was so sudden, so controlled that she didn’t have time to tense up. The tip of his finger stroked along her jaw and over to her neck. He continued to slowly caress the column of her throat, lingering touches that somehow mesmerized her. He pulled her tighter against him, and she leaned her head onto his shoulder, enjoying his touch. The fact he didn’t grope, didn’t rush, and didn’t hump her ass allowed her to breath.

His lips brushed her ear, the soft ruff of his goatee tickling her neck. “I forgot to introduce myself, which is very poor manners. My name is Lord Bryan.”

She giggled, unable to help herself. “I have to ask. Are you a like for real lord, or is that some BDSM thing?”

The deep vibration of his laughter rumbled through his chest, a dark, almost evil sound.

Fuck, that was hot. Just standing here with him felt so good it should be a sin.

He trailed his hand over her collarbone, then down to the first rise of her breasts peeking out of her flowing green dress. It had an empire waist and showcased her breasts while hiding the bump of her belly.

“Yes, for real. Through no fault of my own I inherited a title along with all the drudgery that comes with it.”

“Better than inheriting a big ass.”

She winced at her admission, and he laughed again. “You have a very pretty arse. Nice and thick but soft. The kind of bum I want to grab with both hands while fucking you.”

Desire pooled in her belly, and she instinctively tensed. When nothing but warmth spread through her, stirring her sex, she let out a soft sigh. This was nice, really nice. Part of her mind argued they should talk first, do something other than this dangerous touching. She didn’t want him to think she was easy.

He collared her neck with his hand, stroking her pulse with his thumb, and all thoughts of putting any distance between them fled. “You are not what I expected. Why did you seek me out?”

The formal tone to his speech made it almost flow like poetry. “I…” She screwed up her courage and told him what she hadn’t told anyone else. “My doctors think a large part of my pain during sex is psychological. That if I can learn to not fear being penetrated, it would get better. Please don’t tell anyone.”

For a long time he didn’t say anything, just continuing to stroke her and seduce her with his scent, his body, and his heat. “Your secret is safe with me. I would never betray your confidence.” His tone changed, becoming a guttural purr that would have fit a tiger getting ready to leap on his prey. “Tell me. Am I what you expected in a sadist?”

“I had no idea what to expect.” She swallowed, feeling the pressure on her throat from his grip, kinda liking how possessive it felt. “But, well, I don’t think any woman could ever be ready for you.”

He rubbed his lips against her cheek, speaking against her skin. “You say the nicest things, but I’m still going to keep you gagged most of the time.”

That made her pull away, or at least try to pull away. He held her tight, and as his arms bunched around her with muscle, she knew there was no way she could escape. With deliberate intent, he pressed her back fully into his embrace so his pelvis brushed her ass. The sensation of his hard erection against her body had her near shaking with fear and arousal. God, she wanted him, but she was so scared of the pain. She’d only recently gotten to the point where she could masturbate with a very, very small vibrator.

The thought of taking anything bigger than her finger was terrifying.

Memories of being racked with cramps, curled up on her bed while her boyfriend threw on his clothes and walked out filled her mind, adding a new shame to her fears.

Holding her tight with one arm, Bryan moved her hair again. “Easy, girl. We aren’t going to do anything that will bring you any more hurt than you’re ready for. By the time I’m done, the thought of having a cock inside of you, making you ache, will get your pussy as wet as can be, allowing me to slide into you up to the hilt with one long stroke.”

Words failed her—something that rarely happened—and she made a little groaning noise when his teeth grazed the side of her neck. He bit hard enough to sting, then sucked at the hurt, bringing blood to the surface, making her burn. No one had given her a hickey in forever, but fuck if it didn’t feel good.

Pulling away, he nuzzled the spot. “I like your skin. It’s so pale and perfect.”

“Freckles,” she said in a breathy voice as he resumed biting on her neck, now in a new location.

He pulled back. “Pardon me?”

“I have freckles. My skin isn’t perfect.”

“I’m actually surprised at how nice you look. You’ve stopped trying to be a strawberry blonde, have gained some generous curves—”

“Hey, did you just call me fat?”

With a low growl he gripped her hips, but his touch was gentle, a restrained violence. “I called you a woman. A beautiful, lush woman. Now strip.”

She looked at him over her shoulder. “Pardon me?”

“Your clothes. Take them off. I want to see your body.”

“Wait, I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“Neither have I.”

Balking, she crossed her arms under her breasts. “Why do you want to see me naked?”

He moved back behind her, his hands sliding over her shoulders, slowly lowering the straps of her top. “Because I think you’re beautiful. And I need to know if you can bear my touch and follow my commands.”

“Can’t you touch me through my clothes?”

“Yes, but you won’t come.”

While her hormones did a happy dance, she tried to ignore the sudden throbbing of her clit. “Who says I want to come?”

He laughed, an honest and true sound. Feeling stupid, she tried to pull the strap to her dress back up. Before she could secure it in place, his hand moved over hers, easily pinning her arm to her chest. “While I do love a redhead’s temper, I can assure you any orgasm I give you will be beyond anything you’ve experienced.”

Everything south of her belly button tightened, and her arousal soaked her panties. “Really?” She’d meant for it to come out sounding sarcastic, but instead she sounded breathy and almost hopeful.

“Really.”

She frowned, so many emotions and sensations swimming through her that she had a hard time cataloging them all. “I don’t know. I…I want to, but I hardly know you.”

“Honest answer.”

He jerked the arms of her dress down, capturing her wrists in the fabric and revealing her emerald-green bra. He paused and examined her, his gaze roaming her skin like a caress. “Stunning.”

She tried to push him away, desire and the glow of his compliment tangling with her fear. “What are you doing?”

“What you’re too afraid to do.” He cupped her face and gently stroked her cheeks. “Kira, anytime you want things to stop, to slow down, simply pick a magic word, and I will make you feel as safe as I possibly can.”

His unexpected humor and the kindness in his voice startled her. That and the fact that she wanted to see if he was as good as his bragging. God, she hadn’t been this attracted to anyone in what seemed like forever. Her emotions were as intense and varied as a teenager’s, while her woman’s mind could conjure up all kinds of delicious things Bryan could do to her, with her.

“Magic word?”

“Yes, a special word you won’t say in everyday conversation. It can’t be ‘stop’ because at some point you might want to yell ‘don’t stop’ as I’m flogging you and making you come over and over again. It’s called your safe word, and the instant you use it, everything stops and I take care of you.”

“Oh God.” She tried to turn in his arms, to look at him, but he held her in place. “Okay, safe word. Pookie.”

“Pookie?”

“Yes.”

“Huh. Very well. Now, you need to stop fucking around and strip.”

Once again he moved away from her, but this time her dress was dangling from under her breasts where the small elastic band in the fabric kept it against her. His words irritated her, brought the stubborn and competitive side of her nature out. Her mind argued that turning around and staring him down while she stripped wasn’t very submissive, but she didn’t care.

Spinning on her heels, she tossed her long hair over her shoulder and defiantly lifted her chin. While she had the hots for him, that did not make her a sure thing. Well, actually she was a pretty sure thing, but that didn’t mean her feminine pride wouldn’t insist on a little bit of insolence. When she got a good look at him, at how he was looking at her, all thoughts of defiance melted away in a tsunami of heat.

His gaze locked on her body with such lust that everything inside her at once tensed and relaxed. Her pussy hurt but in a good way. In a way that made her want to be filled. And if anyone could teach her how to coax her body into accepting a man, it had to be him. Her mind waved the white flag, unable to resist his charm and the pleading of her hormones.

She picked up the edge of her dress and pulled it over her head, her breasts bouncing as they slid free of the elastic. While she didn’t have DD-cups, she was certainly better endowed than her previous A-cup size. Tossing her dress on a nearby stone bench, she avoided his gaze. Now that she was down to her underwear, it was much harder to continue. Her thighs touched, and she had a definite pooch of a belly, even while sucking it in. Not to mention her big ass. If she was back in Hollywood, they would have been appalled at how out of shape she’d gotten.

The tabloids would have had blown-up pictures of the cellulite on her thighs all over their Web sites, along with the caption of Guess Who Got Fat!

Actually, she wasn’t that out of shape. She exercised and ate relatively well, and her body had decided to become curvy, just like her mother and grandmother.

She hoped he liked curvy.

He didn’t say anything or even move. He was like a shadow at the edge of her vision.

With trembling fingers, she took off her bra, sliding it down her arms and revealing her breasts. The nipples were tight and long, and she worried if he liked big nipples. Feeling unsure, confused, and no longer aroused, she crossed her arms over her breasts. Taking off her panties was too much, too exposing. She couldn’t do it.

Moving like a ghost, he came closer. The front of his suit coat and shirt filled her vision, and his body heat licked against her. “Do you want me to take them off?”

She nodded and shivered when his hands skimmed down her arms.

“You have beautiful breasts. If you agree to be my submissive for the duration of your training, I will enjoy punishing them.”

“Punishing?”

“Put your arms behind your head. And before you sass off, save us both time and do as I say. If you can’t follow a simple command, you need to get dressed, walk out that door, and never come back.”

She stared up at him, not believing his nerve. When he merely gazed back at her with bored indifference, she grudgingly did as he asked. He stopped her and rearranged how she had her hands so she was lifting her hair off her neck in a graceful arch. Making a pleased sound, he brushed her cheek with his knuckles, causing her to want to turn toward his touch.

“You have a lovely neck, long and elegant. It is one of your best assets.” His tone became lower, deeper. Heat teased her body. Being near him was like admiring a fine work of art and having the art admire you back. “And now, since you were such a good girl, I will show you what I mean by punishing your breasts.”

Before she could prepare herself, he slapped her breast. Not hard, but it was still a slap, and that was kind of insulting. She’d taken and given plenty of punches and kicks during her time as a stuntwoman and action star. That was different. Slapping was like…punishment pain. An almost scolding gesture that conveyed his power over her. No one had ever done that to her. She glared up at him.

He wasn’t even looking at her face, instead fully focusing on her breast. Then he slapped the other one, and a stinging warmth suffused her flesh. Grabbing both of her nipples, he pinched and pulled hard enough to bring her up on her toes. Electric arousal burned through her, merging with her pleasure but not mixing. Instead she was slammed between pain and pleasure like a Ping-Pong ball.

It became a game in her head, a dare to see how much she could take. In a way this feeling of enduring was like the survival sports she’d used to love. Rock climbing and being almost to the top, her muscles burning and shaking but pushing herself a little bit harder to get the reward. In this case the reward was finally being able to love someone with all her body and heart.

He held her there, straining on her tippy toes. “If at any time you have pain from your body that is bad, the kind that could lead to reinjuring your pelvis or is an indication of something wrong, you will tell me right away. Am I clear?”