Enslaved (Devil's Kiss) (6 page)

The instant I was alone, Jody waltzed up to me. I’d known her for years, and it was on her referral that I’d gotten the job. I frowned when I realized we’d barely spoken over the months, let alone spent time together since she’s moved on from Channing Enterprises. She’d left months ago, around the time I’d been promoted to Gage’s personal assistant, to take a job as managing accountant at a smaller firm.
 

“Are you really dating Gage?”

My cheeks warmed. “Is that what everyone’s saying?”
 

She nodded. “Holy smokes, Kayla, the man is hot.” She raised her eyebrows and shot me a playful grin. “I should know—like most of the female employees at Channing Enterprises, I’ve had a turn at him.”

“Are you serious?” I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “When?”

“A few years ago. Around the time you and Rick split.”
 

“I hadn’t realized you’d worked for him that long.”

“Yep. I still miss it sometimes.” She gazed across the room at her date, who I vaguely recognized from the mail room. “That’s why I finagled a plus one from Rob. I couldn’t pass up this party.” She winked at me. “Good to see you again. We should do lunch sometime.”

“I’d like that.”
 

“Great,” she said as Rob gestured at her. “Oops, gotta go. Rob’s a hot one too, though he’s not into kink like Gage was. Is he still into that shit?” she threw the question over her shoulder.
 

The butt plug vibrated to life for a moment, and I gulped. Is that what they were calling it? Kink?
 

Gage returned a few moments later, champagne in hand. Sporting a knowing smirk, he handed me a crystal flute. “Dinner’s about to start.” He ushered me to a table. The room was decorated in whites, blacks, and silvers, with splashes of red and gold. The tables were adorned with black table cloths and silver candles. White linens accompanied the red and gold patterned china. A huge Christmas tree took up one corner of the room. Gage pulled out a chair and gestured for me to take a seat. He settled next to me and immediately placed his hand on my knee.
 

Two other couples joined us, and conversation revolved around work for the short period before dinner was served. As the meal wore on, Gage inched his hand up my thigh. Certain my cheeks were turning the color of tomato paste, I leaned away from him, but all that got me was a hard look and more determination on his part. He carried on his conversation easily as he forced my thighs apart.
 

My only defense was to focus on cutting my chicken into small bites, and then chewing until the meat practically slid down my throat. I bit my tongue when his fingers slipped inside my panties. His touch scorched me from the inside out, and suddenly, the heavy ache in my nipples only added fuel to his public seduction. God . . . armed with sexual frustration and champagne, I became dizzy with it and prayed no one would guess what was going on underneath the table. He tilted his head and gave me a knowing smile as he stroked me, spreading my wetness to my clit. His other hand disappeared under the table, and the plug vibrated to life in my ass again. I gripped my chair and took a deep breath through my nose.

“So, Kayla, how is Eve?”
 

What a way to douse the fire. I cast my attention on the woman across from me, and though I couldn’t remember her name, I was more than grateful for the distraction. “It’s been up and down, but her doctor is confident this new trial will help.”
 

Gage slid a finger inside, and a groan escaped.
 

The woman furrowed her brows. “Are you all right? You don’t look well, dear.”

I sprang up from the table. “I think it was something I ate. Please, excuse me.” I nearly crashed into the women’s restroom in my haste to escape Gage. A quick check of the stalls assured me I was alone. Grabbing hold of the counter, I focused on breathing and closed my eyes, but the plug still vibrated incessantly, making me moan as my insides clenched.
 

The door creaked open, and Gage entered. “Are you alone in here?”

I nodded.

He locked the door, and I watched his reflection wearily, wondering if I’d earned myself another punishment for bolting from the table. He stood behind me and rested his hands next to mine, caging me in between the counter and his impressive body. Pure desire reflected from his eyes in the mirror—a maniacal glint that both frightened and excited me. We said nothing as we stared at each other, and when Gage removed his hands, I didn’t dare move. He gripped my skirt and inched it up, and then slid his hand beneath my panties again.
 

“Your eyes darken to the deepest brown when you’re turned on, did you realize that?”
 

“No,” I said on a moan. My head fell back against his shoulder; his lips devoured my throat as he stroked me.
 

“You’re so wet, baby.”
 

I groaned and arched into his hand. “What are you doing to me?”

“Making you mine.” He took my mouth, and I kissed him back with abandon, chasing his tongue again and again.
 

“I’m losing myself to you,” I gasped, tearing my mouth from his.
 

“Not yet, you’re not.” He stepped away. “Come back to the table.”
 

Five minutes later I obeyed, only stumbling twice on my journey back to my seat. Dessert had already been served. Gage wasted no time in reclaiming the hot, damp place between my legs. He stroked me relentlessly, and not even the decadent cake had the power to distract me. By the time he pulled me into his arms on the dance floor, I’d downed four more glasses of champagne and was more than a little tipsy. Bodies flush, our champagne breaths mingling, I melted against him and let him pull me into the sway. Something shifted within me during that dance. For the first time, I returned his touch. Sliding my hands into his hair, I curled my fingers into the dark strands as he swept me across the room. I didn’t care if everyone was watching, if what I was doing and feeling was wrong.
 

And it was so wrong. Nothing about this situation should feel romanticized, but I was lost and never wanted to be found.
 

He tightened his arms around me, pulling me close enough that his hard-on strained against my stomach. “Wanna get out of here?”

Our faces were inches apart, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me in front of everyone. “Yeah.”
 

We left in a flurry of goodbyes, and the only thing more dizzying than my champagne-induced state was the commotion of grabbing our coats. The drive back to Gage’s place was but a fuzzy memory. We stumbled through the front door, his mouth hot and wet on my throat as my thighs locked around his waist. My hands gripped his hair as he carried me through the house. Maybe later I’d question why he took me to his bedroom instead of the basement, or why he seemed so un-Gage like as he ripped the bodice of my dress in an impatient fit of desire. The material tore to my waist, exposing my clamped breasts. He yanked on the chain, propelling me toward him and the bed, and his mouth closed over an aching nipple. We shed our clothing and tumbled onto the mattress, where he wrapped my fingers around the bars of the headboard.

“Don’t let go.” His breath fanned across my face an instant before he blinded me with a silk tie. “I’m going to remove the clamps.” My heart jackhammered under his touch, and I squeezed the bars as blood rushed to my nipples, flooding them with pain.
 

His mouth moved over my breasts. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered.
 

“I want you.”
 

“Be specific, Kayla.”
 

I bent my knees and spread wide for him. “I want you inside of me.”
 

He pulled away, and though I couldn’t see him, I imagined him gazing down at me, eyes the color of sapphires as he savored my surrender. He splayed his hands on my inner thighs, spreading me further and torturing me with the tickle of his thumbs. “Tell me more.”

“I-I want . . . you sliding in and out slowly, your mouth on my breasts . . . everywhere.” I sucked in a breath when he reached around and lifted me. “I want to feel you everywhere, Master.”
 

He scooted down and smothered his face against my mound. I bucked against his mouth as his kiss spread through my body—in the tingle along my spine, in the ache of my curling feet. My fingers tightened a death grip around the bars, and I dug my feet into the mattress, meeting each thrust of his tongue and fingers.

He slid up my stomach and plunged into me without warning, filling me so fully, I almost climaxed.
 

“You feel so fucking good.” He buried his face in my hair and folded his hands around mine, and we began to move, building a tempo that was both tender and explosive—a contradiction comparable to Gage. “Don’t come until I give you permission.”
 

I gritted my teeth as he moved inside me. It wasn’t going to take much to send me over the edge, but knowing Gage, he’d probably do this all night before he let me come. Our bodies slicked together like two lovers on the beach oiled down with coconut lotion. Muscles tensing, moans escalating, we chased release. I wrenched my hands from underneath his and gripped his shoulders.
 

 
“I can’t hold back much longer. Master . . . please . . .”
 

He removed the blindfold, then froze, going perfectly still. The light from the hall illuminated the apprehension in his features. “Do you hate me?”

I blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. Do you hate me for what I’ve done to you?”

I parted my lips, denial on the tip of my tongue, but denying it would be dishonest. “Part of me does, Master.” I closed my eyes on a sigh and raised my hips. “The other part can’t get enough.”
 

He groaned and sunk his hands into my hair. I was about to burst when he reared up onto his knees and carried me with him.
 

Clinging to him, I panted. “Please . . .”

“Say you’ll never leave me.”
 

“I’ll never leave you.” The lie escaped before I could stop it. I’d sunk so far into the abyss, I didn’t know which way was up anymore.
 

“Come for me now, baby,” he commanded, burrowing even deeper.
 

“Gage!” I screamed as the orgasm tore through me. I wrapped my body around his and rode the waves, and dug my fingernails into his shoulders so hard, I was sure I drew blood.
 

9. R
E
T
R
E
A
T
 

 
Gage awoke me the next morning with breakfast in bed. As soon as I sat up, I gripped my throbbing head.
 

“Hungover?” he asked, setting the tray on the nightstand. He held out two white tablets and a glass of orange juice.

I nodded, and then swished down the pills.
 

“I’m afraid we hit the champagne a little too heavily last night. Now we’ll both have to suffer the consequences.” He sat down next to me, and only then did I notice the belt in his hand. My eyes shot to his. He immediately adverted his gaze. “Last night was . . . incredible . . . but that doesn’t give you free reign to call me anything other than Master.”
 

“I-I’m sorry, Master. It just slipped out.” His name had more than slipped out; I’d screamed it to high heaven as I came undone in his arms.
 

He rose to his feet. “I am too, Kayla. Let’s get this over with.” He gestured to the space in front of him. “On your feet. Bend over and grab your ankles.”
 

I slid from bed, and as I held onto my ankles, preparing for the strike of his belt, I went back to despising myself. He’d gotten to me last night, had snuck into a small corner of my heart. Now that little piece shattered to dust.
 

Bastard.

I mentally chanted the epithet with every strike, though I had to admit the punishment hurt more on an emotional level than a physical one; perhaps I’d gotten under his skin as well because he was now going easy on me, though recognizing that didn’t make me feel any better.
 

Gage calmly put his belt away once he was satisfied I’d been thoroughly punished. “I promised you a phone call. Check on your daughter.” He handed me his cell phone.

I studied him, trying to find a hint of the man I’d seen last night hiding under his cool exterior, but all I found was impenetrable steel. “Why do you do this?”

He tilted his head. “Do what?”

“Shut yourself off from emotion.”

His body stiffened. “Are you
trying
to earn another punishment?”

I stepped closer and placed my hand on his chest; he flinched under my touch. “I’m trying to understand you.” I peeked up and met his eyes. “You’re tender one minute, and a brute the next. I can’t keep up with your mood swings.”
 

“You know nothing about me, except that disobeying will earn you another punishment.” He gestured toward the bed. “Bend over the bed this time.”
 

I turned and placed my hands on the mattress. “I know you care enough to let me contact Eve.” The snap of his belt made me jump. I couldn’t hold back a yelp as it landed on my bottom.

“Stop analyzing me!” He put more strength into the lashes, releasing his anger on the back of my thighs as well as my ass.
 

“I’m sorry!” I cried. God, would he ever stop hitting me?
 

“I’m a bastard, Kayla—don’t fool yourself otherwise.” I heard the belt buckle hit the floor, and neither of us moved.
 

“I know what you are, Master.” A walking contradiction. So were my feelings for him.
 

“Good. Now call your daughter before I change my mind.” He stomped from the room and slammed the door upon his exit.