King of Spades (21 page)

“Your ass is a lovely shade of rose,” he murmured as he obliged, driving in and out with more force. “And your core…it grips my cock like the finest of gloves.”

Fireworks burst in Alexi’s mind and her climax roared through her. Darronn kept thrusting, drawing out her orgasm as he continued to slap her ass.

A tremendous roar filled the carriage as he reached his peak and his semen filled her core.

“My firecat.” He slumped against her, his cock still in her pussy, his warm body pressed tight to hers. “I love you.”

When they reached the château, and had arranged their clothing, Darronn carried Alexi in his arms, straight to their bedroom, and then closed the door behind them. She was still lightheaded from the countless orgasms in the carriage and a little disoriented when he set her on her feet.

But she sobered up immediately when she saw the mirror, the magical looking glass, standing in the corner of their chambers.

Almost in a trance she moved toward it. She stepped onto the black velvet rug at the foot of the mirror, then placed her palm flat against its cool surface and studied her unkempt, well-fucked appearance. The diamond collar glittered and sparkled with every movement she made.

“The looking glass is my other binding gift to you.” Darronn moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist and she saw how good they looked together. “Kalina will teach you how to use it before she leaves with Karn for the Kingdom of Diamonds.”

“Wow.” She moved her hand to the elaborate frame and stroked it. “This is incredible, Darronn.”

He turned her a bit as he moved around her so that they were facing one another, their sides to the mirror. “You are incredible, my love.”

She raised her hand and trailed it across the scars on his cheek. “You are an amazing man.”

Gently Darronn kissed Alexi. Her mind spun and she was barely conscious of him lowering her to the black rug at their feet. With motions so smooth it had to be magic, her blouse fell away from her breasts, her skirt was up around her waist, and Darronn’s cock was freed from his breeches. He raised up her legs so that her stocking-clad ankles were up around his neck, her gold stilettos still on her feet.

“Watch me take you in the looking glass,” he said, his voice rumbling with desire.

She followed his gaze to the mirror and her pussy flooded at the sight of his cock ready to drive into her. His eyes met hers in the reflection, and then he plunged inside her core.

Alexi gasped from the sensation of him thrusting inside her, and from what it looked like to watch Darronn making love to her. The diamond collar seemed to sparkle even more as he drove his cock in and out of her pussy.

Her orgasm completely shattered her this time. Fast and sudden it fractured her very being, and it was a wonder the looking glass didn’t crack from the sound of her scream.

Darronn’s roar followed her cry and his cock pulsated inside her pussy as he came.

Once the last of their orgasms ebbed, he rolled off of her to her side. He arranged them so that they were both staring into the mirror, her back to him.

Propping himself on one elbow, he smiled as their gazes met in the looking glass, and he smiled.

Alexi returned his smile. “I’m so happy you brought me into your world, Darronn.”

“I would have none other,” he murmured as he kissed her neck, “for you are my Queen of Spades.”

Epilogue

Persistent knocking at the front door jarred Annie Travis from her artistic trance. She blinked the fog from her mind, slowly returning to reality. A glance to the window told her that from the time she’d started working on her painting hours had fled by rather than minutes. The sun now hung low over the ocean, its golden ripples leading from the glowing orb across the water to the shore. A spectacular sunset of oranges, blues, and pinks streaked the horizon.

More knocks, and Annie frowned as she eyed the door. Should she answer, or hope whoever it was went away?

“Annie! I know you’re in there!” came Aunt Awai’s no-nonsense voice through the door. “Stop moping and open up.”

“I’m not moping,” Annie grumbled under her breath as she tossed her brush onto her palate, stood, and stretched her cramped muscles. The movement caused cool air to rush over her nipples and they stood out hard and tight. Heat flushed over Annie as she realized she was still naked from the waist up. She quickly grabbed her T-shirt and yanked it over her head.

“Annie!” Awai’s tone notched up to her
I’m-gonna-huff-and-puff-and-blow-your-house-down
voice.

“Coming,” Annie shouted. She pushed her glasses up her nose, threw her braid over her shoulder and padded across the worn carpet to the door. Abra watched from her perch on the back of the couch. The cat had her little chin up high, doing her best to show she was Queen of Annie’s realm.

“What, are you naked or something?” Awai said from outside, and Annie’s cheeks heated even more. “Open the damn door already.”

“Yeah, yeah.” When Annie reached the door she wiped her sweating palms on her black jeans. She didn’t bother to look through the peephole—no doubt at all it was her aunt, the human whirlwind. She unlatched the chain lock then opened the door.

As always, Awai was sheer elegance with her black hair in a neat chignon at her nape and wearing one of her usual designer outfits. This one had a black skirt and matching mandarin collared jacket, her blouse a splash of amethyst in a vivid but gorgeous contrast.

Her aunt was holding two paper bags, one in each arm. “Took you long enough,” she said before Annie had a chance to greet her.

Awai bustled through the doorway and Annie was looking out into late afternoon sunshine instead of her aunt. “Uh, hello?”

The warm smell of fresh baked bread and something spicy followed Awai as she headed straight into the apartment’s kitchenette. Annie’s stomach growled.

“I heard that,” Awai said as she plopped the bags onto the counter. Without pause, she went to the oven, and turned on. “I knew you’d be painting and moping.”

“I wasn’t moping.” Annie shut the front door and followed her aunt into the tiny kitchen, the linoleum cool to her bare feet. “What in heaven’s name are you doing?”

“Making us dinner.” Awai smiled as her dark eyes met Annie’s. “I figured you’d be in need of more than just Abra for company this evening.”

Annie raised an eyebrow. “Auntie, you don’t cook.”

“Ah, but I make one hell of a mean warmed-up lasagna.” Awai reached for one of the shopping bags and pulled out a loaf of French bread, a packaged salad, a bottle of Annie’s favorite brand of merlot, and an aluminum pan with
Mama Mia’s Italian Grill
stamped across the cardboard top.

“Mmmmm. My favorite.” Annie peeked in the other bag. “Oooh, and you brought spumoni, too. I’ll get it in the freezer.”

Annie had to admit it was fun chatting with her dynamo aunt, and it helped to not be alone while she was thinking about her missing cousins. Awai was actually their aunt by marriage, not blood, and she only had four years on Annie who had just passed her thirtieth birthday.

Awai’s being there to help her through this tough day reminded Annie of that night a year ago when she’d taken Alexi out for drinks and dinner to help get her mind off of Alice.

The night she up and disappeared. Some idea that was, getting her drunk.

It wasn’t long before dinner was served and Annie and Awai were sitting at the small oak table in the kitchen nook and Abra was rubbing her head against Annie’s feet beneath the table. Awai chatted about the latest account she’d won over to her advertising firm, and of the gorgeous blond man she’d just met at the club last night.

“Which club?” Annie asked before taking a sip of her merlot.

As her eyes met Annie’s, Awai gave a small shrug. “A BDSM club.”

Annie choked on her wine and it shot up her nose. She grabbed her napkin and managed to cover her mouth before she spewed merlot everywhere.

“Are you all right, sweets?” Awai asked as if she’d just said she’d found toilet paper on sale at the grocery store instead of announcing she’d gone to a BDSM club.

When she’d sufficiently recovered, Annie patted her mouth with the napkin then set it on her empty plate. “That’s why you were wearing that tight leather dress and those thigh high boots when I came by to ask you to go with me to Alexi’s last year. You weren’t off to a masquerade party. You were going to a BDSM club.”

Awai smiled and raised her glass. “Does it bother you that I’m a Dominatrix? That’s Domme for short.”

Annie almost choked again as she visualized her aunt wearing that same outfit and whipping a submissive male. “Um, no. Not at all.”

Cocking her head to one side, Awai said, “You should come with me sometime and find a good Dom. You’re a born submissive, you know.”

“I don’t think so.” Annie shook her head. “I’m not into, ah, whips and handcuffs.”

Awai pushed aside her plate aside and folded her arms on the table as she gave Annie that penetrating look of hers that was sure to have won over plenty of accounts…and probably submissives, too. “Annie, for a sub, giving up control is more than bondage, more than pleasure and pain. It’s power. You have total control over your Master’s pleasure. You hold all the cards.”

Meeting her aunt’s gaze head on, Annie asked, “Why are you a Domme?”

With a shrug Awai leaned back in her chair. “I enjoy having men obeying my every whim.”

“Like they do at the agency?” Annie asked as she arched one eyebrow.

The corner of Awai’s mouth curved. “Something like that.”

Annie pulled her braid over her shoulder and absently played with the end of it. “If the submissive has all the control, then why aren’t you a sub?”

For a moment Awai was silent. When she finally spoke she said, “Until I truly learned the concept behind BDSM, I always thought the Domme had the power.” She brushed imaginary lint off her black skirt. “And now, I enjoy being a Domme.” But something in Awai’s eyes held just a tinge of regret.

Before Annie could say anything, Awai was up and out of her chair, heading toward the easel in the living room. “So, what are you working on? Something depressing, right?”

Annie rolled her eyes, but then she realized she had no idea what she’d done during those hours of painting today. With Abra at her heels, Annie followed her aunt to the easel.

Awai folded her arms and pursed her lips. “Oh, definitely morbid, but I like it.”

Annie’s frown deepened but when she reached the easel and stopped in front of the canvas, her eyes widened.

Cocking one eyebrow, Awai cut Annie a questioning glance. “Looks like it came right out of
Wuthering Heights.
”

“Yeah, it does.” Annie’s practiced eye scanned her work. It wasn’t quite finished, but it was damn good if not murky and mysterious. Maybe it was a sign that she was more down about her cousins’ disappearances than she’d thought.

A sprawling but gloomy mansion stood dark and foreboding in the background with only a single window dimly lit from within, as if by candlelight. Lightning illuminated the scene just enough that the viewer could see skeleton trees bowing close to the ground from raging winds, and in the distance one could see the white caps upon a body of water below sheer black cliffs. In the lower right hand corner was a single magnolia bloom lying in the grass, its petals pure cream beside a shadow.

She narrowed her gaze. A man’s shadow. How odd.

“Well this is interesting,” Awai said, breaking into Annie’s thoughts. “How did you come up with it?”

Annie shook her head. “I have no idea. The twins still missing…maybe it’s bothering me even more than I thought.”

Awai stayed for a while longer, long enough to share the spumoni and to polish off the bottle of wine. Annie wasn’t much of a drinker usually, and tonight she’d had two glasses of merlot. She felt mellow and relaxed, and definitely ready for bed.

Once Awai had left in a cab for her San Francisco apartment, Annie went back to the painting. After she moved the easel in front of her overstuffed armchair, she sat and studied her days’ work, her elbow resting on her knee, her chin in her hand. Her braid fell over her opposite shoulder as she tried to interpret her own work. Abra jumped onto the armrest and started batting the end of Annie’s braid.

Where the heck did I get this from?

The picture had a brooding, gothic feel to it. It was unlike her usual landscapes and seascapes, but was still in her distinctive style. The painting was fascinating, really. She rarely had dwellings in her work, and this mausoleum of a mansion was beyond anything she thought herself capable of. Perhaps it was so captivating because it reminded her of the gothic romance novels her grandmother was always reading when Annie was young and still lived in Tennessee.

Stifling a yawn, Annie rose and turned away from the painting when she heard the crack of thunder. Abra hissed and arched her back then darted under the end table. Lights in her apartment flickered.

Everything went completely dark.

Annie frowned. They never had thunderstorms in the Bay Area because of the cool onshore flow of air from the Pacific. She started to go to the window when a flash lit up her dark apartment for a moment. Thunder boomed again, rattling her windows.

But the lightning flash hadn’t come from outside.

It had come from her painting.

A strange buzzing started in Annie’s ears as she moved back toward the painting—and her heart started pounding like mad.

She saw the same scene she had painted, only now it looked like a very tall and narrow television screen rather than a canvas. It was raining in the picture and trees swayed in fierce gusts of wind. She could even hear the haunting sound of wind blowing and could feel wet air blowing from the painting. It rushed across her face and misted her glasses. She saw a something that looked like a very large cat stalking across the picture…a white tiger.