What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) (30 page)

She frowned, never having considered it from that perspective.

“I wanted independence on the force, sought it out actually, but the misogyny there blocked me at every turn. It doesn’t make sense that I would seek it out again or in my personal life.”

“Doms are not misogynists, nor are submissives punching bags. It’s a power exchange based on trust, not fear, tyranny or browbeating, any kind of beating for that matter, unless that is desired by both parties.”

She glanced up at him, eyes wide.

“There are more extreme ways to play. You saw some of that in L.A. If that’s someone’s kink and no one gets harmed, then who are we to judge it?”

He was right. She saw some wild stuff, although the players seemed really into it and it didn’t bother her so much because she knew it was one hundred percent consensual.

“So you don’t want a slave? Someone to greet you at the door naked except for an apron and hand you your pipe and slippers?”

His lips curved up and it wasn’t hard to see the movie playing in his mind starring her with her naked ass in an apron. “T! Seriously? You’d want that?”

He shrugged. “A little Ozzie and Harriet roleplay would be fun once in a while, but as a staple, no. As I said, that’s not my thing. I’d go out of my mind if I had to tell a slave what to do every minute of the day, what to wear, what to eat, when to shower or pee.”

“It gets that exacting?”

“In some cases, yes, although most couples have a blend of real life and play. Like Cap and Megan, for instance. Their D/s relationship definitely bleeds over into their daily life. That doesn’t stop Megan from being independent, running her own business, caring for her family. And it sure hasn’t curbed her sass, has it?”

Angie laughed. “I think she pushes his buttons on purpose.”

“That is common too. She likes what he gives her, and he has no problem pulling her over his lap and giving it to her when she goes too far.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen that more than once. So, are you like that?”

“I’ve been known to spank, if that’s what you’re asking. You experienced that for yourself.”

She squirmed, the memories of being over his knee while on mission in L.A. still fresh on her mind. He went on, pretending not to notice, but she caught the twitch of his lips and knew that he had. She appreciated when he skipped a needless retelling.

“As far as how much I bleed over into every day, again, darlin’, I haven’t been in a relationship for a long time and I really didn’t come into my own as a Dom until that ended, so we’ll have to figure that out together.”

She sat quietly for a few minutes assimilating all he had told her. Abruptly, he pushed back his chair and got up. Walking around the table, he grabbed her hand. “Let’s go into the living room where we can be more comfortable.”

Without protest, she let him pull her up from her chair and followed along. Prepared to sit beside him on her awesome high-back, roll arm, leather and tapestry couch, she’d found at an estate sale, she squeaked in alarm as he lifted her astride his lap and pulled her down onto his thighs. His hands slid over her hips and around to her back. He applied steady pressure until their bodies’ rested chest to chest, lips inches apart. He took care of that oversight quickly enough as one hand slid up into her hair and cupped the back of her head, drawing her in for a kiss.

“I thought we were going to talk,” she said at the last second.

“No, I said we’d get comfortable.” His arms tightened, flattening her breasts and bullet hard nipples against him. “But we can talk between kisses and other stuff, if you’d like.”

There was so much to say, about her doubts and fears, questions about what kept holding him back from committing to a woman, any woman, but especially to her. But after their conversation over dinner, with him promising dates and “more”, she didn’t have the wherewithal to fight any longer. She tilted her head to align their lips and with his warm breath mingling with her own, all of her willpower went out the window.

“That’s funny.” Her voice was nothing more than a ragged whisper as her hands slid over his shoulders, up his neck and into his hair.

“What’s funny, darlin’?” he whispered back.

“That I can’t think of a single thing to say.” She gave herself up to him then, melting into his seeking mouth and exploring hands, not to mention his incredible hard muscled chest that pressed against her breasts, the firm ridges of his belly, and the steely thighs that separated her own.

His hand left her hair and his mouth eased back long enough to pull her summer weight sweater over her head. Sliding down her back, his adept fingers unhooked her bra, drawing the straps down her arms. She helped by pulling her hands free and tossing it aside. He palmed the lower curve of one breast and plumped it up, his head dipping to capture the taut point between his lips. Angie’s hand curled around the back of his, holding it there as she pressed forward, offering his busy mouth full access as he sucked, licked and bit lightly. When he moved to her untouched side, paying it equal time, his free hand swept down her back into her waistband.
Thank god for elastic
, came to mind, as his fingers dipped inside and continued their trek downward, easily accessing the back of her panties and digging into one fleshy cheek.

Angie’s head rolled back on her shoulders as she ground her needy pussy against the hard ridge of his jeans. Still needing more, her fingers sought his belt and worked at the buckle.

“Uh, uh, greedy girl,” he corrected as he caught her hands. “As your Dom, I set the pace.” A frisson of excitement passed between them, electrifying the air. He took her wrists and guided them behind her head. “Lace your fingers together and keep them there until I say.”

His stare was bold as he waited, watching intently.

“I’m the right kind of man, Angie. Submit to me.”

She didn’t question him, wanting to do as he said, because if felt right, somehow. She clasped her hands at the back of her neck, murmuring, “Yes, Sir. I want that, so very much.”

He didn’t say a word, he didn’t have to, approval written clearly on his face, in his gleaming eyes and the satisfied curve of his lips. Then he went back to his sensual torment of her nipples with his mouth as his hands tugged her pants down as far as her spread thighs would allow. This time, as one returned to mold against her ass cheek, the other slipped inside the front of her panties, his long fingers seeking her moist heat. As the pad of one fingertip slid over her clit, she cried out in a shuddering voice.

“T, please.”

Suddenly, his mouth was gone and his hands found her armpits, flipping her onto her back on the wide cushioned sofa. Her pants and panties were stripped from her legs and his hands spread her thighs incredibly wide to accommodate his broad shoulders. His mouth found her, licking into her, hot and hungry. As her mind reeled from the pure unadulterated pleasure of it all, she arched against him needing more. Her fingers dove into his hair, hands gripping tight as she pulled his head in closer.

“Hands, Angie,” he growled, his breath rushing over her.

She became momentarily confused.

“Where are your hands supposed to be?”

Remembering, she freed his hair from her grasp, once again lacing her fingers behind her neck, more tightly this time. He hummed his approval, the vibration buzzing along her nerve endings and downward, throughout the entire length of her slit. It was pure heaven.

Without her hands, she could only press upward, arching her pelvis to seek more. He took care of that, too, by pushing her knees into her chest and lifting her ass up to his mouth with his giant hands. His tongue licked slowly through her split, starting low by drawing a hot wet circle around the puckered skin, then up further, to her weeping entrance where it delved inside, swirling around in a mind numbing caress. He lingered there for long moments before moving on, going higher to the hard, pulsing bud. Once there, his mouth opened wide and he sucked hard, his tongue lashing her relentlessly without losing any of the glorious pressure.

“Holy fuck!” she screamed.

He released her with a pop and a triumphant laugh that became muffled as his tongue repeated the path in reverse, slowly moving from her clit downward to end up tonguing her ass once again.

“Damn, you’re sweet,” he murmured between licks. “And this ass…” Raising up on his knees, he pushed her legs together and clamped one hand over the backs of both thighs, bending them up to her chest until her ass angled off the cushions. “I’ll be damned if this isn’t the sweetest, most spankable and fuckable ass I ever did see.” He slapped it.

“Hey!”

His eyes shot to hers. “No complaining, darlin’. You’ve had this coming for two reasons. Number one, because I can’t resist spanking these glorious round cheeks.” Which he did, twice on each side. Not hard, but it made her entire nether region tingle. Yet, she couldn’t help protest that unfairness.

“That’s hardly my fault!”

“Number two,” he continued, talking over her. “I owe you a few swats for last night. What were you doing cozying up to that sadist? He’d have given you more than a spanking, you know.”

“That lovely man with the accent was a sadist?”

“Absolutely. And rumors around the club suggest he uses European techniques.”

“What are those?” she asked, openly curious.

“All in good time. You’re a newbie still, that’s advanced status, at least.”

She would have scowled at him if she hadn’t been so surprised. “First Dan, now Arturo. You should make them wear tags like the DMs do so unsuspecting subs won’t be caught unaware.”

“That’s what negotiation is for.” His hand landed again, not too hard, yet with enough oomph to sting and warm her cheeks pleasantly. “However, it isn’t to be done when you’re shitfaced on tequila—ever.”

“Don’t you have any sweet Doms over there?”

“You’re looking at him. For all you know, Arturo would have whipped you, and not with a suede flogger like I did, little bit. He’d have made you cry with that damned French martinet of his, upped the ante a rubber flogger or a nine-tailed cat, and topped you off with a screaming round with the bull whip.”

“You’re joking.”

Four more swats fell, then he leaned in, his chest pressing against the backs of her legs, pinning her as he got in her face. Nose to nose, his breath brushed her lips. “I’ve never been more serious. Now, tell me what you were doing dancing with that sadist?”

“I didn’t know what he was. He seemed so nice and his accent—” At his narrow-eyed expression, she decided telling him what she found appealing about Arturo wasn’t particularly smart. “I’d had too much to drink, I admitted that already. I won’t do it again. I recently remembered how much I hate having a hangover.”

Without moving back, his hand returned to her inflamed cheeks, but not in punishment this time, instead he rubbed soothingly all around where he’d spanked her. “Was there another reason, possibly?”

When she didn’t answer right away, he changed his course and directed his hand between her spread thighs, running over her slit as his fingertips slid slowly and smoothly over her wet skin. She was wondering how he expected her to carry on a Q&A session about a drunken evening when she could barely remember her own name. On the next pass, he upped the game by sliding two fingers deep inside her and began pumping unhurriedly in and out,

“Angie,” he prompted, making matters worse when he twisted his hand, palm up, his fingers positioned perfectly, curling and rubbing against her ultra-sensitive G-spot.

“Um…” she began, her words catching in her throat when his thumb found her hard aching bud and began circling as he continued with the slow finger fuck. Swallowing hard, she continued in a quivering, stuttering voice. “I was still… kind of pissed… at you too.”

“That’s the answer I was seeking. Were you also trying to make me jealous?”

“I didn’t even think you’d be there.”

She lost his fingers, his hand moving up to her clit where he captured it tightly between his forefinger and thumb with increasing pressure. “You want to try that again, baby? Remember, I ran into Regan today.”

She groaned, lifting her hips off the cushion as the pinch became more of a bite. “After a half dozen shooters, I wasn’t thinking clearly, okay? All I knew was how much I wanted you, but you didn’t want me. You hurt me, T.”

“I know, little bit, and I’m sorry for that.” His mouth lowered and pressed a soft kiss on her open lips, as he slid his two fingers back inside her and began working her slowly again. “How about in the future, we agree to talk instead of storming out or snubbing up for a month of Sundays?”

“I’ll have to work on that because you seem to get me riled up more than anyone, ever.”

Low and rumbly, he chuckled into her mouth. “That doesn’t bode well for this sweet little bottom, then does it?”

“I don’t suppose it does. As far as the silent treatment goes, yours is very effective. I’m assuming not snubbing up is a two way street, yes?”

He blinked, staring down at her as if suddenly realizing he’d been guilty of that too. “It seems we both have some things to work on, don’t we?”

“So, do I get to bust your butt if you get snubbed up?”

A light pinch on her behind made her yelp. “What do you think, darlin’?”

“I think this is all very one sided.”

“Are you saying you want to be a switch? That you want to take me across your knee and paddle my ass until it’s red and raw for all my bonehead moves and screw ups?”

She grimaced. Having seen it done in both clubs, she’d known every time that it wasn’t for her. She shook her head adamantly, “No. I am definitely no top.”

“We’ll think of another form of penance for me should the time come. I’ll even put it into our contract.”

“We’re going to have a contract?”

“Of course, everyone that plays at the club does. During the investigation, yours was a guest contract. We’ll have to make several adjustments to that right away and since it’s been several weeks, we should go through some retraining.”

“What for? Have I done something wrong?”

“Where do I begin? Foremost, you seem to have forgotten how to address your Dom respectfully. Especially one who has just finished busting your butt?”