Cuffed & Collared (8 page)

The question seemed to surprise her. “Ah, yes, I guess so. I asked my questions and delivered my warning, so—”

He didn’t give her a chance to say more.

The cop part of Regan’s mind registered the attack in time to stop it, but the woman part of her brain didn’t let her. Kyle’s hands gripped her upper arms in a painful hold and propelled her against the wall before his mouth slammed down onto hers. His hard body pressed against her, letting her feel his rigid cock straining against his jeans. When she wouldn’t open to the soft entreaty of his tongue, he nipped her lower lip until she welcomed him in.

She remained passive, though, letting him explore her mouth with stark passion and blatant need. She would not let him see how aroused she was, other than her nipples having peaked to hard points. She couldn’t help that reaction, nor could she keep her juices from flowing from her cunt and soaking her panties. Her clit burned to be touched, and the muscles around it spasmed with the same need. These things he could not see, could not feel, and if she let him know the effect he was having on her, he would gain the upper hand. She didn’t want that to happen.

When his hands loosened their hold in order to roam up her neck and cradle her face, she made her move. Reaching with one hand, she grabbed him by the wrist and twisted it around to his back as she slipped out from under him. In the next instant, their positions were reversed, only she had Kyle face-forward against the wall. She pulled his arm up high on his back to keep him from struggling.

“Hey!” he barked. “What are you doing?”

“I didn’t give you permission to kiss me,” she replied in a cool tone.

Kyle twitched a little, as if to gauge the strength of her hold on him. “We’re not having a session, Mistress Regan.” He sounded annoyed but not too annoyed. His obvious ambivalence egged her on.

“Aren’t we? I make the rules, remember?” With that warning, Regan decided she needed better leverage. She grabbed a fistful of his hair with her free hand and pulling him away from the wall, frog-marched him into the kitchen.

“Now what?” he demanded through gritted teeth.

She shoved him against the countertop over the dining space and made him lay the side of his face on the cool, granite surface. “I didn’t give you permission to speak, either,” she admonished before letting go of his hair.

Tellingly, he didn’t struggle or try to lift his head or throw her off. With her body wedging him in tight to the counter, there wasn’t much room for him to maneuver. But he hadn’t made any effort to get away during the short trip from the hall, and he still had a hand free to try something. Even with her expert training, she knew a man with at least fifty pounds on her could give her a run for her money. He wasn’t fighting her because he didn’t want to. He wanted her to control him and to dominate him.

The knowledge sent her pussy into overdrive. “You’re a very disobedient boy, Kyle.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agreed in a cheerful voice that grated on her last fucking nerve.

“And you’re enjoying this entirely too much.”

She slid to one side so she could deliver a punishing smack to his ass with the palm of her free hand. Although his grunt of pain should have brought a satisfied smile to her face, the sting of the contact on her own flesh took a lot of the fun out of it. She needed some help, so she reached across him and pulled open a drawer. She hit pay-dirt with the first try.

The wooden spoon she wielded elicited a string of curses from its target. “Son-of-a-god-damn-bitch!” he roared, and far worse came stuttering from his mouth with each of the ten quick whacks she gave him.

Still, he didn’t try to evade the blows or wrench out of her grasp, which only lightly held his arm back. And most importantly, he didn’t use the safeword to stop. When she was finished, they were both puffing out harsh breaths. Sweat trickled down her back and front, pooling between her aching breasts. But because she couldn’t take off her jacket without letting go of Kyle, she ignored the discomfort.

Regan tossed the spoon on the counter and ran her open hand across Kyle’s bottom cheeks in a soothing motion. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

“In your dreams.” He flashed her a defiant grin over his shoulder.

“No, in yours.” She squeezed his tight flesh once before sliding her hand around his hip and to his fly. She positioned herself directly behind so that she could fit her pelvis against his.

Finding the bulge in his pants was easy, as was unsnapping his jeans with one hand. Regan slowly lowered his zipper, the rasping sound of metal on metal loud in the otherwise quiet room. Kyle still did nothing, made no attempt to stop her. Instead, he remained leaning over the counter, only now he was braced by his free arm. His gaze was focused straight ahead into the living room.

“You know what to say if you don’t want this,” she reminded him and waited a few seconds for him to respond. Her fingers were poised above the waistband of his boxers. When he said nothing, she slipped her fingers between the cotton and his smooth skin. She played with the stiff, curly hair she encountered for a while before clasping her hand around his hard, pulsing cock.

“Unh.” His head dropped down to rest on his arm.

Regan smiled. “Like that do you?” She squeezed her fingers while flicking her thumb over the velvety tip. A drop or two of moisture met her, and she spread it around.

Kyle hissed and thrust his hips forward so that her hand was trapped between the counter and his body.

“Don’t,” she commanded, jerking up on his captured arm. “Don’t move. I set the pace. I decide how aroused you become and when you get off. Understand?”

He hesitated before nodding. “Yes, ma’am.” His voice was little more than a growl.

“Good, now relax.” She tugged him back toward her with the hand still gripping his erection. When he complied, she rewarded him. “Good boy.” And her hand enhanced her words with a slow stroke up and down. At the bottom of the caress, she let go long enough to wedge her fingers underneath his tightly tucked balls.

She spent long seconds rolling them between her fingers and thumb, squeezing and tugging. She knew she was driving Kyle crazy by the quickening of his breath and the occasional moan. When he bucked his hips once more, she dug her nails into the tender flesh in admonishment. He kept himself under control after that. It was amazingly gratifying the way he let her control the dance and set the pace. She was incredibly aroused and had to fight the urge to straddle one of his legs and hump her way to satisfaction.

But that wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. If she was in control, she couldn’t lose control herself. This was all about the effect she was having on him and how he had to trust her to do what was right for him. She went back to stroking him, picking up the pace.

“I’m going to make you come, Kyle, when I’m ready. I’m in charge, so you just relax and let me do all the work.” She quickened her movements even more and could tell he was getting close. “Not yet.”

Her fingers pulled his flesh up and squeezed the underneath of his glans before pulling down again. His cock was hot and alive in her palm, begging her to bring it to climax. He started to pant, and his whole body quivered under the strain of not moving. He wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Okay. Now!” she said in a loud, commanding voice. Kyle jerked with the last word, and his head reared up and back on a shout. Warm semen spurted from his cock and over her hand, easing her movements and soothing the strain in her fingers.

At last, he was finished, and so was Regan, although she had not allowed herself to come. Pulling her hand out of his shorts and letting the other arm go, she went to the kitchen sink and washed up. She felt exhausted, yet strangely satisfied. She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her, but she wasn’t going to allow herself regrets, not now anyway. Tomorrow would be soon enough to analyze and feel guilty.

As she finished drying her hands on a towel, she turned to look at Kyle. He was still leaning against the counter, although he was braced on both hands. He hadn’t bothered to close his pants, and he stared at her with an unreadable expression. All she could tell by it was that he didn’t seem to be mad.

“Are you all right?” She tossed the towel on the counter. She ran slightly shaky hands through her hair. “I didn’t hurt your arm, did I?”

He shook his head slowly. “No, I’m fine. Very relaxed,” he added with a wry grin.

“Good. I should be going.” When she went to pass him, he straightened and blocked her way. He didn’t try to touch her, however.

“Wait a minute.” His expression was one of confusion.

“Why?”

“What about you?”

“What about me?” Regan shoved her hands in the pockets of her jacket and stared at him.

“You haven’t gotten off.”

She smiled. “Oh, that. Don’t worry about it.” She maneuvered around him and headed for the front door.

Kyle chased after her and leaned against the door before she could reach it. “What do you mean ‘don’t worry about it?’ No woman leaves my bed unsatisfied.”

“We were never in your bed,” she reminded him.

“You know what I mean,” he replied in an exasperated voice.

“Yes, I do know what you mean, and what I’m saying is that it’s not your concern.” She stepped closer to him. “I make the rules and the decisions here. I decide who comes and when and under what circumstances. You don’t have to worry about any of it, because it’s not your job. Just like it’s not your job to find the killer.”

He lowered his gaze. “I’m not sure I can live with things being that way. I never have before.”

“With respect to us, to the extent there is an
us
, you can make whatever decision you want. The investigation, however, is another matter. Stay out of it, Kyle. I’ll—I’ll try to keep you apprised of my progress to the extent that I’m allowed to talk about it without compromising anything. That’s all I can promise.”

He looked at her and nodded, although whether he was agreeing to obey her order to stay out of the investigation, she couldn’t say. Standing to one side, he opened the door for her.

“Good night, and thank you, Mistress Regan, for your company this evening.” She acknowledged his thanks with a nod of her head and moved to pass him. His arm shot out to block her way again. “And there is an
us,
just so you know.”

“We’ll see.” She ducked under his arm and left.

Chapter Five

Weird. Regan’s life had definitely become weird within the last forty-eight hours, and hunting down her first serial killer wasn’t even the biggest part of the weirdness. Kyle Ramsey was. No, that wasn’t completely true. Her reaction to him and the way she had suddenly embraced this bizarre Femdom lifestyle was what was throwing her for a loop.

The way she had slipped into what was supposed to be an undercover role so easily at his condo last night was disturbing. Part of it had been temper. His insistence on chasing down his friend’s killer still made her blood boil. How much arrogance could one man have? Didn’t he see the stupidity of an average citizen trying to do a cop’s job? She had wanted to make him listen to her, and the only way she had been able to gain his attention so far was with a beating.

So, teaching him a lesson was part of it, but she didn’t have to go to such lengths to deliver her professional message. A stern lecture and threats of arrest should have sufficed. That route wouldn’t have satisfied the other emotion welling up inside her, however. Desire, that was the fuel stoking her high-handedness and enticing her to play the role of a Domme. And, Kyle, damn him to hell, hadn’t told her to piss off. Instead, he had let her do what she wanted to him and liked it.

Weird was too mild a word for it all. It was frightening, this new wish to control a man. Sure, she liked to be in charge at work, but she had always thought she was an egalitarian in her love life, such as it was. Maybe she had been fooling herself all these years. Maybe she was a domineering bitch from birth. The thought made her squirm in her chair, although she checked the movement quickly. She didn’t want to invite any lewd comments from the cops around her. They would see it as a sign of horniness, and they would be right. She hadn’t gotten herself off last night when she arrived home, because she had told Kyle the truth. She wanted him to do it when she decided it was time.

She was sinking in deep with this guy, fast, and she wasn’t even sure it was ethical given that he was a witness in a murder investigation.

“Hey, partner, how come you’re not out beating men?” JoJo plopped herself down on the corner of Regan’s desk, a plastic bottle of diet Coke in her hand.

Regan looked up from under her eyelashes. “Please, respectable men don’t like being dominated before lunch time. I have to be there by noon.”

“I hope you get more customers today,” JoJo teased.

Regan rolled her eyes. Besides Kyle, she’d had two other sessions with much older men, both of whom really reveled in her dominance of them, as if they were putting on some kind of tacky play. Because they’d been overacting, she had as well and had worked hard not to laugh herself silly. Needless to say, there was no repeat of the aroused state she achieved with Kyle.

“I’ll be happy if I have a chance to speak with some of the other women who work there. They were too busy yesterday for more than a quick hello, and none of them struck me as the chatty type, either. I’d better get there a little early and see what I can learn while we’re all getting dressed.”

JoJo took a long drink from her bottle. “Do you think one of them is the killer?”

“It’s possible, but my gut is telling me it would be too easy. Hopefully, I can at least pick their brains and understand better what our killer is thinking. What makes these women want to hurt men?”
What makes me want to hurt Kyle?
Regan thought it, then put it aside. She couldn’t afford to become engrossed in her own issues while on duty.

“Well, I have somewhere for us to go this morning that may help us understand what motivates the men and the women,” her partner said.

“Where?”

“I found a doctor right here in town who specializes in sexual fetishes. Her name’s Greta Molvado.”