Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
LUKYAN VOLKOV
She tastes so fucking sweet.
Lyla moaned, a purely erotic sound that had lust shooting up my body. Jesus, fuck. I’d never been so turned on before. Never been so attracted to another before. It was fucking primal. Undeniable. My body yearned for hers, and I could no longer deny it.
I was really into the kiss. Like, really fucking into it. My cock was hard as hell, and she was grinding herself right down on it, so it only got harder. I was completely immersed in her. Her taste. The feel of her tongue. Her closeness.
So, it shocked the hell out of me when she suddenly gripped my chin and pulled back out of reach. I attempted to follow her, but her fingers tightened, keeping me rooted in place.
“Why?” I all but whined.
She laughed, this deep, sexy as fuck throaty sound that had my balls tingling. “Do you want me to answer your question or not?” she panted.
“Not right now!” When she’d licked my lips, I couldn’t fucking take it anymore.
I had to kiss her. The compulsion was too much.
Too overwhelming. Too much to bother fighting any longer.
Now that I didn’t have to worry about my family, that they were all okay, I felt as though I could finally relax.
Finally enjoy myself, even though I knew I probably shouldn’t.
Oh fucking well. I liked doing shit I wasn’t supposed to.
“Why not?” she smirked, all devious and shit.
“Because I want to fuck you,” I admitted unashamedly.
Her smirk turned into a feral, predatory smile. She dropped her hold on my chin, and I leaned back, my eyes dropping to run the length of her tall, curvy body.
Teeth digging into my bottom lip, I asked her in a soft voice, “Are you going to tie me up again?”
Her brow arched high. “Do you want me to?”
Fuck yeah, I did. I wanted that and more. I was curious to explore the dynamic between us. In the past, I’d always been the dominant one. The one to take control. Handing over that control had never even occurred to me.
Until her.
Lyla rose, standing over me. “Stay,” she ordered.
My hands went up in a show of surrender, the smirk on my face mirroring hers. She disappeared into another room and returned a moment later, hands behind her back. Lyla was still in the white robe, but now there were a pair of sexy-as-fuck, black stiletto shoes with red bottoms on her feet.
My head tilted to the side. “What do you have there?”
She didn’t answer. “On your feet.”
Hell fucking yeah. I got up immediately. She did a little maneuvering, and then her hand appeared in front of her, empty. Lyla crooked a finger, urging me to come closer.
Curiosity streaked through me. I was powerless to do anything except whatever she wanted. Sexual tension skyrocketed between us, hot and utterly undeniable. When I stopped in front of her, she finally pulled out what it was behind her back.
Excitement surged in my body.
It was a collar and a leash.
Goddamn.
“On your knees before your Huntress, baby.”
I dropped, zero hesitation in my movements. Lyla’s face lit up in a pleased, warm smile, and I knew right in that moment I would do anything to please her. That I wanted to please her. Have her own me. Command me.
She leaned forward and gave me a soft, tender kiss on the lips. I downright melted at the feel of her lips on mine. “Safe word, baby?”
“Do I actually need one?” Earlier, I had joked about what my safeword was, but it was more of a flyaway comment, not something I was actually being serious about.
“Yes. When exploring the things we’re about to explore, you always need a safe word. It helps to make you feel comfortable and reassures you that even though I’m controlling the scene, you are the one who holds all the power.”
My eyes lit up. “What kind of scene are we going to do?”
She shook her head, lips kicked up into an amused smile. “Nothing too crazy. I just wanna play with you for a bit.”
“Play with me?” I breathed out, my whole body shivering.
“Mm-hmm.” She trailed a finger across my jaw and down my chin. “Are you okay with that, baby?”
She didn’t even need to ask. “Fuck yeah, I am.”
“Good.” Her touch turned from soft and sweet to rough and hard, clasping my chin in a punishing grip. “Because I’m going to ring every ounce of pleasure I can out of your body. Now, pick a safe word.”
The one I said earlier seemed like the best option. “Banana Hammock.”
She nodded, standing tall once more. “You ever done anything like this before?”
“No.”
Her hand caressed down the side of my face, and I leaned into it, overcome with an emotion I couldn’t figure out. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. If there’s anything you don’t like or don’t want to do, just tell me.”
“I will.” I probably wouldn’t. I was keen for anything. Anything. The crazier and more fucked up, the better.
Her eyes narrowed. It was like she could sense my goddamn thoughts because she bent at the waist until she was level with my gaze. “I’m serious. Follow the rules, or we don’t play.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll tell you,” I promised.
Satisfied, Lyla nodded. She straightened her spine and held the collar up between us so I could clearly see it. “This one is a little different from the other one you wore.”
“You mean it isn’t filled with powerful sedatives?” I smirked, allowing a hint of mischievousness to streak across my face. “What a shame.”
Lyla chuckled. “This one’s got something better.” She twisted it to show me the back. Stitched into the black leather was the word OWNED. “Do you want to be owned, baby?”
My stomach did a dive, excitement barreling through me. “Yes.”
“Head up.”
What the fuck is this feeling I get every time she orders me around?
I tilted my head toward the ceiling. She fastened it around my throat, and I had to suppress a groan at how good the weight felt around my neck.
Her honey-colored eyes lit up with appreciation. She took a moment, just standing there, admiring me.
“God, I can barely contain myself around you,” Lyla breathed out, her fingers dancing along my skin. “Take the robe off.”
I did as she ordered, the fabric slipping from my body to pool on the floor around me.
There was a metal ring on the front of the collar.
She clicked the snap hook of the leash onto it, wrapped it around her fist, and tugged slightly.
Blyad, fuck. My head swam, every ounce of me begging for her touch. It was hard to keep my hands off Lyla.
“Stand,” she commanded huskily.
My legs shook as I got to my feet.
“Come.” Spine straight, head held high, she turned and marched out of the room, me following behind her like a good little dog.
I wanted to be good for her. I wanted to please her. Because pleasing her pleased me.
Her heels click-clacked along the hardwood floor as she walked, echoing throughout the quiet home. My eyes were glued to her ass the entire time, so many dirty and kinky thoughts running through my mind.
What does she have planned?
What is she going to do to me?
What do I want her to do to me?
She led me up the stairs and straight to one of the rooms on the left side of the house. I’d done a thorough walkthrough my first few days there. I knew what was in every single room of the house except that one—it was the only room that was locked.
The jingle of a set of keys hit the air.
Anticipation bubbled up inside me. It must have been something good if she kept it locked.
I secretly hoped it was some kind of dirty sex room.
Or maybe it was a weapons room, filled with all different kinds of knives and guns.
I wasn’t opposed to a little bit of knife play.
“Is this your sex dungeon?” I asked, only mildly joking.
Lyla looked over her shoulder as she placed a black key into the keyhole. “Would it freak you out if I said yes?”
“No. It would excite me.”
“Then it’s my sex dungeon.” She unlocked the door and opened it, pulling me inside. Darkness enveloped me, and I froze, waiting for the lights to come on.
They didn’t.
“Lyla?”
“Huntress,” she whispered suddenly from behind me, right in my ear.
Goose bumps shivered over my skin. “Huntress,” I amended.
“Good.” A soft, featherlight touch danced down my back, stopping just before my ass. “You ever been taken here?”
I shook my head. The collar pulled taut, and my head snapped back. I groaned at the suddenness of it. The harshness of it. I wanted more.
“I told you before, I want to hear you speak when I ask a question. Have you ever had your ass fucked?”
“No,” I panted.
“Is it a red line?”
“Red line?” I questioned, unsure what she was asking.
“Something that is off-limits to you?”
“Fuck no. You want to fuck me in the ass, I’m all for it.”
She laughed. Deep and throaty and utterly tantalizing. “We’ll have to work our way up to that. You won’t be ready to take some of my bigger toys.”
A thought barreled its way into my head. It was born of pure jealousy. “Have you fucked other guys in the ass?”
“Baby,” she cooed, voice soft. “Are you jealous?”
“That depends. Have you?”
“I have.”
I knew it was irrational. What we did with other partners before we met had nothing to do with us. But I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be her fucking first. I did nothing but grunt in response.
“Don’t be jealous, baby. You know you’re my one and only.”
“I better fucking be,” I grumbled back.
Soft lips kissed my shoulder blade. “You are. Now, relax.”
Light flooded the room. I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust. The room slipped into focus.
Black walls. A king-size bed with red silk sheets.
Neon light strips bordering the ceiling.
Black, faux leather velvet trunks filled with all different kinds of sex toys.
Paddles. Chains. Whips. A bondage restraint table.
Long, black leather couch with what looked like metal cuffs strapped to the top of it.
My excitement fucking soared.
“Are those mirrors on the ceiling?” I asked in awe, looking up.
“Yes. So you can watch.”
“Watch what?”