His Only Hope: The Maison Chronicles, Book 2 (16 page)

He sat up against the headboard, pulling her with him until she straddled his lap. “I got that after you left.”

Guilt speared her and she threw her arms around him and held tight. “I’m so sorry. I should have opened up to you, let you help.”

A raw chuckle escaped from his lips. “Like I’m a saint when it comes to sharing. We’ve both screwed up.” He took her arms from around his neck and yanked them behind her back. The pull of her muscles, the command in his eyes, had her shivering with desire again.

“But right now, baby, I’d like both of us to be screwed again.” His eyes were heavy with lust.

A nod—words escaped her at the moment—and he had her pinned to the bed under his deliciously heavy weight. She ran her hands across his back, feeling the delineation of every muscle. How sexy was that?

Sexy enough to make her wet all over again. Or maybe that was due to him nibbling her neck. Whatever. All that mattered was that he continue to touch her.

She bit his ear and said, “Sir, I want you in my mouth.”

He groaned above her and for a moment she thought she’d get her way. Her mouth started watering and her tongue craved his flavor. He’d always tasted so good, a lot salty, a little sweet and all man.

“
Cara,
I’d love nothing more, but my control right now is hanging by a thread. I need to be inside you—now.”

His kiss made all her muscles go limp. Her nipples hardened and her cunt throbbed its agreement. “I’m not going to complain about that.” She grinned and through half-shuttered eyes saw him jump off the bed and fumble in the bedside drawer. He returned sheathed and ready to go.

Strong hands pushed her thighs apart and he settled between them, his cock teasing her entrance. He grabbed her hands and pulled them above her head, which pressed him into her pussy a little farther. She squirmed, trying to take him deeper, and he pulled back.

“Keep your hands above your head, baby, and I’ll fuck you silly. Move them, and I’ll stop.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Nothing existed beyond Gabe and this moment. Too slowly, he pushed against her, parting her folds and stretching her to fit snugly around his thickness.

“That’s my girl, take it.”

Another inch and he hit all the good nerves. His cock curved just enough that it fondled her G-spot with every stroke, not that he was stroking just yet. Right now, he was being an insufferable tease.

Her arm twitched to grab his head and kiss him until he was crazy with lust and shoved his way into her. She needed that stretch and burn. “More please, Sir. I need you deeper, harder, faster. I want all of you.” She grabbed for the edge of the mattress, needing something to keep her from grabbing him and speeding things up.

“Really, is that what you want?”

His eyes were serious. He’d hurt her, once, at the beginning of their first relationship, by going too fast. She’d not been ready for his size, nor had foreplay been involved. This was completely different, and he knew it.

She dignified his concern with a snort. Keeping eye contact as a blatant challenge, she said, “Try me. I’m wet and ready and begging to be—”

He shoved his entire length into her, burning every inch of her pussy. It hurt, hell yeah, but it was a delicious pain.

“Oh, don’t stop!”

He grabbed her hips and tilted them. The new angle had pleasure-pain sparks running up and down her spine as his cock brushed her G-spot and bottomed out on every thrust. Her eyes closed to fall into the sensation and his strokes slowed.

Her eyelids popped up and she glared at him.

“Keep ’em open, love. I want to see your beautiful green eyes when you come.”

One hand reached between them to thumb her clit and she was lost. It took so much willpower to keep her eyes pried open, but for him, she’d do it. She studied the sheen of sweat on his golden chest, the lines of pleasure on his face. Pressing up on her elbows, she got a perfect view of him fucking into her. His thumb picked up speed and the sparks turned into a full-fledged wildfire.

“Sir…”

“You are not allowed to come yet, Hope. Wait for permission.”

Well that was new and Hope normally would have chafed at the idea but, damn, it turned her on more. She struggled against the orgasm trying to suck her under, thought about interior design and her crappy apartment and the siblings who weren’t returning her calls and it took the edge off just enough that she had a modicum of control. Until Gabe pushed her flat to the bed, threw her legs over his shoulders and took her more deeply than before.

Shivers traced up and down her limbs and sweat broke out on her forehead. His cock was thick and long, and in this position it hit every single nerve she had. He even skimmed her clit with every stroke, giving a little hitch at the end to rub against her hot button.

“Sir, please, please, please,” became her mantra, because thinking about anything else, such as his muscles flexing and his eyes boring into hers, would do her in.

He nibbled the tender part of her ankle and the unexpected sensation had her teetering on the edge of orgasm. “Beg for it, Hope, and I’ll let you come.”

Lines of strain grooved his face and for both their sakes, she let loose her rambling, incoherent-from-lust words. “Sir, Gabe, baby, please, I want to come for you, feel you come inside me, melt into you, God, I love you so much.” She paused to catch her breath.

“Say it again,” he growled, “say you love me.”

“I love you, Sir, I love you.”

His hands gripped her thighs—she’d have perfect bruises tomorrow—and he gritted out, “Come for me.”

She exploded, a rainbow flashing behind her eyes once more and tingles numbing every part of her body except her pussy, which was overwhelmed with sensation. Two more thrusts and he came, reigniting her nerves.

Interminable minutes later, he rolled off the bed and padded into the bathroom. He returned, condom-free, head and face damp with water. “Do you need anything, baby?”

“You. Come here, Sir. I’m exhausted and ready for bed.”

His smile was brilliant and it touched parts of her long-dormant heart. “That sounds perfect.”

He tucked in next to her and wrapped her in his arms. She fell asleep more contented and sated than she’d been in her life. She just wondered how long it could last.

Chapter Thirteen

As they lay in bed the next morning, Hope could feel the questions boiling in her mind. What happened now? She refused to ask, not wanting to ruin the moment.

Gabe still rested beside her in all his naked glory. One of his arms was tucked under her head, the other flung across her waist, possessive even in his sleep. She turned and kissed his lips, barely rousing him.

With a smug smile—she’d thoroughly exhausted him last night—she wiggled out from under his arms and threw on a spa robe. Though no sounds broke the silence of her room, it seemed more alive with Gabe there.

Since she’d moved back to LA, her apartment had felt so empty. She envisioned Gabe there with her, filling the space with life and love and his beautiful smile. Falling asleep with him every night and waking in his arms every morning.

Bright morning light filtered through the curtains, and Hope swept them aside to reveal mounds of snow, pure and white, leading out to the cliff. And to the left, beyond the parking lot, a snow plow coming up the road.

Looked like they were free. Hope tried not to be disappointed, but so long as she and Gabe were trapped up here, the pressure to define their blooming relationship remained on the horizon. She’d like to think the collar and the I-love-yous meant something special—she knew so, deep in her soul—but until they talked about the practical implications of a relationship, she would be on edge.

A slight knock at the door pulled her from the landscape view. She trotted over and peeked through the peep hole. Ms. Lamont stood there, looking for all the world like a grown-up Girl Scout selling cookies door to door.

Hope eased open the door. “Ms. Lamont, good morning. Can I help you?”

Clad in a smart black pencil skirt and red silk blouse, she said, “Why yes, Hope, I think you can. And please call me Kat—all my friends do. You and I have much to talk about,
cherie
.”

Holding her robe closed—naw, she didn’t feel sloppy and insecure around Kat—Hope gestured to the couch. “Would you like to sit? And can I get you something to drink?”

Kat reached into the hall and rolled in a cart topped with covered plates and two icy pitchers. “No, may I get
you
something to drink? And I am hoping you are hungry.” She looked to the bedroom. “I know Gabriel will be.” She flashed a blinding smile and stopped the cart beside the kitchenette, setting out two plates and putting the third in the microwave. “That should keep Gabriel’s food warm for now. He can wake later,
ça va
? Come, take a plate and we shall sit and talk, just we women.”

This became more surreal by the moment. Hope would have expected admonishments, or warnings about Gabe…something, anything but this welcoming feast. “All right. Let me just go change…”

Kat waved the thought away. “No, do not be silly. You are lovely and that robe is comfortable. It is why I chose them, after all. Come sit, Hope.”

She liked the way Kat said her name, her French accent almost dropping the “H” from her name. Kat had a warm, soothing cadence to her voice that put Hope at ease.

Plate in hand, Hope took a seat on the soft green couch, turning to face the other woman still in the kitchen. “Water or juice?” Kat asked.

“Oh, water, please.”

Balancing her plate and two glasses, Kat joined her, taking the other end of the couch.

“There are three things we must discuss, and at least one will be unpleasant.” Kat took a bite of her eggs and bacon, her bright red lipstick not daring to budge.

Hope filled her mouth with a slice of French toast—a bite that melted on her tongue in buttery, starchy, sugary goodness—so she didn’t bombard Kat with questions. The woman would get to her point eventually, and her food would only grow cold if she waited to eat until this was over.

After a few bites, Kat put down her fork and said, “I’ve been informed that Master Joseph has quite the unsavory past.” Her level gaze saw more than Hope would have liked.

Methodically chewing and swallowing her food despite her now-churning stomach, she took a sip of water before answering. “That would be correct.” How much did she know?

“Hope, I do not play games. Gabriel told me of your relationship with Master Joseph, and I need to know if it is true or not.”

“Why?” Banning him from Maison Domine would do little good to a man whose basement was his own personal dungeon.

A vicious smile curled her lips. “Because I know everyone who is anyone in the kink and fetish community. A few well-placed phone calls and he will be blacklisted from every club, store and dungeon in the area. And word like that spreads as wildfire.”

Hope gaped at her, and joy sprouted in her chest. “Really?” She set her plate on the coffee table, too overwhelmed to eat. “You’d do that?”

Kat gave a delicate snort. “Naturally,
cherie
. Keeping my guests safe is the biggest part of my job. So did Gabriel tell me true?”

Holding her gaze, Hope replied. “I have the scars to prove it.”

Kat’s sharp nod was answer enough. “
Pardonez-moi
.” Kat set her plate on the table, rose and pulled out her cell phone. A flurry of French erupted from her red-painted lips. The only word Hope caught was “asshole
fils de pute
bastard.”

When she returned to her seat, her face emanated serenity. “He will not trouble us any longer. But you and I, we must still address this issue of our Gabriel.”

Hope cringed. “He didn’t mean to, really, we’ve talked about it and I understand, please, do not punish him for what happened. We both mistreated each other terribly over the course of this…I guess you could call it a relationship.”

If she could so easily blacklist Master Joseph, she could do the same for Gabe. Hope did not want to be the reason for his being banned from the kink community—Gabe’s livelihood relied upon his good reputation.

A tinkle of laughter escaped Kat’s lips. “Oh darling, you just answered my question. Gabriel and I have already talked. He will be on probation here for three months, but I may reconsider that if you are his only partner. What I wanted to know was your intentions toward him. He is a dear friend of mine, and has been through a great deal in his life. He needs a strong submissive—a partner—to help him flourish and grow.” She picked up her plate and continued eating.

Hope followed suit. She was mid-chew when Kat said, “So when will you marry him?”

She almost choked on her food. “Wh-what? Oh no, marriage isn’t even something…no.”

“Jaxon Greene said the same thing last year.” She cocked her head to the side. “Is that not Gabe’s collar you are wearing?”

Hope fingered the beautiful necklace. “Well, yes, but this doesn’t mean we’re getting married.”

That laugh again. “No,
cherie
, not yet.” She leaned forward and her voice softened. “Did he tell you he made that right after you left him?”

Hope’s heart clenched and tears sprang to her eyes. “I-I had no idea.”

“It’s true.” At the sound of Gabe’s voice, Hope craned her neck around to see him standing in the bedroom doorway. His slacks clung to his muscular thighs in an oh so tempting way, and to top it off, he was shirtless. “Good morning, Hope.”

His grin told her she’d been staring.

“Good morning, Sir,” she said, eyes still tracing the lines of his torso. She thought nothing of using the title anymore, not when he’d so thoroughly earned it.

Kat echoed her greeting. “There is a plate for you in the microwave if you would like to join us. We were just talking about you.”

A wry grin quirked his kissable mouth. Hope couldn’t turn far enough around, but she heard Gabe pop open the microwave and a moment later he took up residence on the lounge chair across from her. His eyes held a possessive heat that melted her insides.

“So what were you ladies saying about me, hmm?” Gabe started to eat and even that was sexy. Hope couldn’t watch him without thinking of the deliciously naughty things he’d done with that mouth yesterday. And Friday. She wanted a repeat—many repeats, for as long as he’d have her.