KING (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (27 page)

Ezra’s fingers curl around the nape of my neck as he languorously strokes his lips against mine. His tongue glides along mine and darts away w
hen I try to deepen the kiss. Ezra won’t allow me to express my hunger- my passion in the need to taste him and be tasted by him.

Whimpers- crie
s of need- spill from my lips as I try to take more than Ezra willingly gives. When I upset the equality of the act, he pulls back farther- teasing me and punishing me for my rashness. Ezra’s lithe body sinuously moves against mine. Striated muscles bunch and flex in passion. Bare flesh against bare flesh, ignites my nerves in excruciating carnality.

Prowling
, graceful as a primal beast, Ezra flows over top of me, settling his body weight perfectly on top of mine. When we come in full contact- body against body- I erupt. I try to hold it at bay, but it’s useless. I grip Ezra’s shoulders and silently ride out my release. Wincing as my body floods our stomachs.

I feel Niel’s shame in this moment. I get it. Just because we can keep going, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t learn to pace ourselves.
Why do the Whittenhower’s think they are entitled to everything- I should only get more than one orgasm if I deserve it.

Somehow sensing my self-consciousness, Ezra puts me at ease. “Next time I’ll show you how to stop that. You need to work on your stamina. Being able to have multiple orgasms is unusual, but not unheard of. The problem
is that it isn’t as powerful without the buildup. The longer you can hold out, the stronger the orgasm... Don’t be embarrassed,” Ezra softly murmurs in my ear. “I’m thrilled that I turn you on that much.”

My lips seek out his. I suck Ezra’s
tongue into my mouth as my hands slide down his back and clench his firm ass. He feels so good that I spread my thighs, allowing him to settle between my legs. I groan and lift my hips when his hard cock rubs against mine.

“Pretty Boy,” Ezra
purrs against my lips. “No top is ever that eager to spread their legs. Good boy,” he praises, rewarding me with a steady rocking rhythm of his hips, gliding our lengths in delicious friction. “Isn’t this more intimate than nailing someone to a door?”

“Yes,” I moan,
spreading my legs further apart. I frantically grip Ezra’s ass harder, pulling his hips into mine. I rock back against him in counterthrusts.

“Fucking is hot, primal, and it releases pent up frustration. But you
can do it with anyone. But this…” Ezra sucks on my neck and I arch off the mattress, releasing a deep, heady moan. “This can only be done between lovers, between friends. This takes trust and affection… and intimacy.”

“Ahhh…” I clench Ezra
as close as I can get him. I want to melt into him, join us as one. It’s not pounding, heart beating out of your chest madness. It flows like the tides. I’m not selfishly taking what Ezra isn’t offering and he’s not asking for anything I’m not willing to give. The equality of it makes me want to give him everything I have.  I subconsciously part my legs to their farthest limit, offering Ezra something that I never thought I’d want.

“
Screwing is sticking your cock in a hole until you get off as fast as you can. Making love is a full-body experience that’s meant to be savored. Every inch of flesh slides, rubs in mouthwatering friction until you detonate together,” Ezra purrs against my lips. His tongue licks the roof of my mouth and I jackknife off the mattress. 

The sensation of Ezra’s
cock gliding along mine is insanity. Scalding hot, velvety, and rigid, we slickly rub our lengths with the aid of my accidental release. I grit my teeth, this time the pressure builds in my balls instead of pouring out without my permission. I am in control of my body, but it’s agonizing in its intensity.

“Intimacy is earned,” Ezra
breathlessly groans against my neck. “I’ve taken so much, but you can never take an experience like this. Don’t ruin it for yourself and your lover by always pounding them into submission.” Ezra’s words are choppy, strained, as he tries to hold off his own climax. His cock is wildly twitching and jerking against mine- one body’s reaction, heightening the next.

“Oh, Pretty Boy,” he cries. “You’re so sweet… so
succulent. I love how you’re spreading your legs for me, begging me to enter you- you don’t even realize that’s what you’re asking me for, do you? Don’t worry… someday I’ll show you how liberating it is to submit. Someday… I’ll be deep inside you.”

“Oh fuck!” I cry out,
thrashing as much as his heavy weight will allow. Without thought of consequences, I bite into Ezra’s shoulder, accidently marking him as I stifle my screaming orgasm. I buck underneath him as he dances above me. Our hot releases mingling on our chests and bellies.

“Proof that you don’t have to fuck someone to be satisfied or
to be inside them to make love,” Ezra breathlessly pants into my ear.

~Chapter Twenty-Three~

“What’s this?” Grandfather gestures to the three chairs
behind the desk that are occupied, and his ass isn’t in one of them.

“I enacted a big change. I couldn’t find you yesterday, so I m
ade an executive decision, as is my right.” I nonchalantly point at the chair next to Diane- Grandfather’s new seat in my study. He begrudgingly sits, grumbling under his breath about ungrateful progenies while scowling at me.

Whitney’s
eyes are as big as saucers- sky blue orbs that stare at me in awe. I butt her shoulder with my forehead and grin at her to put her at ease. I don’t want Whitney to think she isn’t welcome. 

“Is this appropriate?” Diane asks, and I know she doesn’t mean teaching the next generation how to handle their futures. Ade and Jamie look proud, Marcus looks
curiously indifferent, but Diane and Grandfather look scared- scared for Whitney.

This isn’t a normal
family meeting.

Regina’s gaze bores into my eyelids. I refuse to lift my eyes and look at her. Since that strange encounter in her office, I’ve been ignoring her. I can’t stop blushing
and feeling awkward. Worse, Regina looks at me with a heat in her eyes that was never there before. It’s confusing the shit out of me. Regina’s not looking at me like that now, however. I can tell she’s worried for the kids- her son and the girl she thinks of as her niece.

“Instead of being closed lipped, I think we should let those who we tru
st help us. Marcus’ reaction taught me this. Niel is here because he’s was contacted and threatened. If Ava were an adult, I’d tell her she was a target. Whitney could have valuable information, and no one will suspect that she knows anything about this. The way the game has been played was by separating us, weakening us, and making us fight against each other. It’s time we allied against those who bind us with threats and ruination.”

I wait- wait for my suggestion to sink into their minds.
Marc has a pinched expression on his face that I don’t think will fade for months to come. He resents everyone that’s lied to him. Grandfather and Diane look worried, the deformed siblings are stone-faced, and Regina looks ready to fight. But of course, the young idiots are raring to go.

“I need to know what they threatened you with, please.” I look around the room at those who have been contacted.

“You know what they threatened me with, because when I didn’t obey, they did it.” Diane bitterly says. Her melodious voice takes on a sharp tone.

“I’ve had all sorts of threats: financial ruination.
Physical and mental abuse. Rape. Death. And none of it was to my own person. It was my children, grandchildren, my wife, and my staff. They prey on the love and devotion you have for your family.” Grandfather winces, as if remembering every threat in graphic detail.

“They threatened Regina,” Ade numbly says as Jamie si
gns. She adds for my father, “They used Regina against him too, plus Niel and Whitt.”

“For me,” Niel audibly swallows and I know whatever Olivia threatened him with
was difficult for him to hear. “I won’t say what, because I can’t choke it out. But they threatened all the girls in the most horrific of ways. They’ve been my responsibility since birth. I’d do anything to keep them from that fate, and they counted on it. I went along since I can’t marry a fifteen-year-old girl. I knew I had at least two and half years to find a solution. But then Olivia came to me for other stuff. It’s why Whitt is sitting here today. I pushed it along on their orders. I abhor someone commanding me. I date Ava because I care for her and it keeps her safe. I placed Whitt at the helm of Whittenhower Enterprises because it is his place. Next order… I will kill the bitch. It’s why I went to Diane and Grandfather. I will not play their game,” Niel growls from beside me.

“I won’t allow you to play it, either. The only thread we have to go on is Olivia-”

“Damnation,” Marc hisses. “I’m wracking my brain to come up with something, but I’m coming up empty. My fucking mind hurts,” he painfully mutters, rubbing his forehead. Regina reaches over to comfort a distraught Marcus.

“Daniel and I tried all day yesterday to get something
out of her. Olivia’s one of the smartest people I know. She clammed up because she knew what we were doing,” Diane complains.

“Well, I think you’re looking at it at the wrong angle. You know Olivia, but it was Pierre that w
as before her. You guys only know Olivia. I found someone who knew them both, and knew them very well.” I smirk and get up from my desk.

I walk over to the closed door and let Dalton in. He proved that he trusts me, and I decided I had to trust him.
Early this morning I told Dalton the awful truth. He was more upset that his mother might actually care for Spyder and him and it was used against her than the potential shit-storm we’re living in.

“He was a valuable source of information,” I continue to say as Dalton walks in and I bar the door. They stare at me like I’ve grown a second head, and everyone warily watches Dalton move across the room.

“Say hello, everyone,” I say in great amusement. They look gobsmacked. No one says hello- they just rudely stare.

“Would you like to know what Dalton’s admission was to join our little club?” I s
neer at them, expressing my displeasure that they’re not being polite. I hate rudeness almost as much as violence.

“Welcome, Dalton. Thanks for joining us,” Diane’s breeding is evident as she graciously welcomes Dalton while her mind reels
over twisted scenarios.

“Hello,” Dalton mumbles, sliding into the nearest chair and making himself invisible.
It’s a true talent for someone who’s as gorgeous as he is.

“Well… Dalton
was quite angry at me for interrogating him without explanation, but I uncovered some interesting shit. First: we know that the Fontaines are the contacts for the Whittenhowers and the Whittenhowers are the contacts for the Holdens,” I tilt my head towards Diane. “We know that Diane’s family was tasked with the Zeitlers. What we didn’t know was who Olivia was in contact with… I figured that out.”

They speculatively
eye Dalton. But not out of distrust, more like they’re sizing him up as a potential ally or adversary.

“Second: I’m not sure who is in play at this point in the game, but Olivia’s contact is either Stanton or Bianca Green, Dalton’s ex-father-in-law or ex-wife. I’m positive on this. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“It’s why she’s here,” Marc mutters, lost in thought. “Not just because they took Kink away from her. Why take it away and give her a new club here in the city? They wanted her close to us and close to the Greens,” Marcus muses, not speaking to any of us. He delves into his thoughts and stays there.

“I assume Dalton and you will be on that,” Regina directs at me, b
ut never takes her focus off of Marcus. Man, he really hates not being on top of the food chain.

“Yeah, after this meeting we have a reservation for brunch
… One thing I can’t figure out is the Marconi family. Either they were targets or the Greens’ contact. But if they were in the game, why aren’t any of them playing. There’s only Dalton since his brother Bruno is illegitimate.”

Everyone stares at a frozen Dalton, even Marcus. Dalton raises his hands in the air and says, “Hey now! Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t know anything until this morning.” He frantically looks at me for help since the group is glaring daggers at him.

“Don’t,” I warn.

“Maybe his family was an enforcer? How does that work anyway?” Whitney says to calm the storm that’s brewing within the study.

“I don’t know,” I absentmindedly say, staring at the group as their anxiety diminishes.

“
We don’t know anything where the enforcers are concerned. All I know is that they contact the bottom player so the information moves up the food chain and they punish those who don’t obey. Enforcers are our boogie men… they are ghosts.” Diane looks to all of us. “I doubt that Anthony was an enforcer. I don’t see them losing out on his potential.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “I think Tony was a target and Dalton’s marriage to Bianca would have brought him into the game. But he died within an hour of the union. Plus I already know who that group’s enforcer was. Jon.”