Chapter Three #6
While there were clients she preferred playing with for one reason or another, in her mind, she was at the club to perform her duties and cater to everyone who requested her skills.
She demanded that all her clients schedule appointments through the front desk; she didn’t slide anyone in or cut scenes short to make space for special individuals.
This clusterfuck was going to cause her a great deal of irritation professionally, not to mention personally pissing her off worse than a honey badger caught in a trap.
Some of her clients might not mind being reallocated to a different Mistress for their stay, but most of them came specifically to see her.
They knew her rules and abided by them, so when they found out about Boudreaux literally monopolizing her entire schedule for a month…
Violet wondered if Evander understood what he’d set in motion when agreeing to Boudreaux’s request. The man wasn’t stupid, but she knew how frustrating, how fucking infuriating it was to be expected to play by the rules only for someone to flaunt breaking them without consequences.
She jerked her chin toward the door. “I’ll take care of the food. Get cleaned up.”
Those beautiful eyes sparked with mischief as he let the blanket dangle in one hand, then shook it out and wrapped it around his lower half again, leaving the tattoo dedicated to her on full display.
Slowly, surely, with no trace of lingering fatigue, he padded over to her until she was forced to tip her head back to maintain eye contact.
She tilted her head to the side as he leaned down, avoiding what she assumed would be a kiss, but instead his lips skimmed the shell of her ear.
Warm breath caressed her skin as he whispered, “Submitting to you is hot as fuck, Mistress, but don’t get used to it.
I’ll obey your orders, crawl on all fours, take whatever punishment you need to give, but in the end…
you and I will stand together as we’re meant to be, equals in all things. ”
Her heart kicked, the blood in her veins pulsing faster. Her hand itched to rest against his chest, to feel those tight muscles beneath warm skin again, but that path led to nothing but misery. Touching him skin to skin of her own volition would be her downfall.
“Dream on, loverboy.” She drawled the words, her accent thick and rich with her Southern roots. “You survived one morning with me, whoop-de-do. Today was just a warm-up, a test to find your limits.”
“Bennie, with you, I have no limits.”
She scoffed, then paused as it dawned on her that his lack of limits might be the tool she needed to get out of the contract.
It was common knowledge in the club that she didn’t play with anyone who refused to use safewords—her own morals and personal codes were at the forefront of that decision, followed swiftly by liability concerns.
“If you’re not willing to draw a line, you’ll find this morning was the first and last time, Boudreaux.
I might hate you past the point of reason, but I refuse to cause you harm. ”
Hurt flashed in his eyes before they dropped to his crotch. “Didn’t have much of an issue leaving claw marks in my cock, Mistress.”
She fisted her hand and used the bridge of her knuckles to shove him back. “I said harm. A few scratches on your pride and joy hardly constitutes harm.”
“What about the ones in my heart?”
Violet rolled her eyes and stepped back to put more distance between them.
“It would take more than a vampire glove to score that stone. I doubt a barrelful of C4 could make a dent in it. You were a generous lover, Boudreaux, but when it comes to actual love? You and I have different definitions of what it means.”
“Oh really?” There was a threat in his tone, the thrum of underlying violence she’d once stripped and knelt for just so she could feel the darkness wash over her skin. “Is that so?”
The shift in him was so fluid, if she’d blinked, she would have missed it. Gone was the soft set to his muscles, the submissive posture, the deference in his expression. In their place stood the bristling, omnipotent Dom she’d loved, feared, and idolized.
“Is that so?” Boudreaux repeated darkly, coming at her so quickly, she found herself retreating before her spine snapped straight.
It was too late; his big hand found her throat, his fingers settling into their rightful position, and her back smacked against the wall.
“Have you forgotten the times I laid my heart in my hands for you? The lengths I went to, the time I spent teaching you how to submit so that, in turn, you could become the woman you are now? The woman I’ve loved despite the miles between us?
Do you have any idea how fucking hard it’s been, waiting for you to come home where you belong?
Waking up in the morning without you there, going to sleep and praying you will be back with me when the sun rises? ”
He was more frustrated than angry, she realized, but not by much. The two emotions were too similar, merging together with every breath he took. The grip on her throat was firm but restrained, his fingertips knowing precisely where to press to invoke her submissive tendencies.
Being this close to him, feeling his skin on hers, made her wet and achy.
“Boudreaux—”
“Drop the formalities, Bennie. I’ve been inside you so many damn ways to count, I’ll be surprised if my cock didn’t leave an imprint in your neglected pussy.” He leaned down until their noses touched. “What do you call me?”
Like hell she was playing these games with him. She was stuck with the contract he’d initiated; she wasn’t going to tolerate him flipping the rules on her.
He'd started the game, but they were playing it her goddamn way.
“Asshole,” she whispered. “Domineering, arrogant asshole.”
Lust flared in his eyes; he loved being challenged. “Say my name.”
“Boud—”
“Say the name you used to scream when you came on my cock.”
“Master. Sir.”
He bit the tip of her nose. “Say the one I want to hear, pretty Bennie. The one I still hear when my fist is wrapped around my cock, jerking off to the sound of your voice in my dreams.”
Where she came from, a name held power. Magic, both black and white, was the roots beneath civilization and had been for centuries.
What magic was he trying to weave around her?
Her procrastination earned her a warning growl.
Jaw tense, she stared him straight in the eyes. “Reaux.”
She barely got the word out before his mouth was on hers, devouring her with a passion born of absence. This was his way—he didn’t ask permission when he’d staked his claim, and as much as she hated it, the kiss was proof that, in body at least, she still belonged to him.
Goddamn it all to hell.
Beneath the cold shield she’d erected, her body melted the way it had only ever done for him alone. It was like sinking into a hot spring after days of wandering in the bitter cold of a frozen wasteland.
Things came alive that she believed died a long time ago.
The moan was unexpected, a hum of pleasure deep in her throat accompanying the lift of her hands to his head, the slide of her fingers through his silky hair.
She wasn’t a meek, quiet sub reveling in her Masters attention this time. If he wanted to take, to steal, to reclaim what he assumed was his, she’d make him earn it.
Smug satisfaction filled her when he paused slightly, evidently taken aback by her sudden ferocity. A split second to catch her breath before they went at each other like feral cats.
Her nails scored his chest deeper than the vampire gloves, dragging down his skin as his fingers deftly made short work of the lace webbing holding her corset together. Their actions were seamless, no bumping of arms or awkward touches.
Reaux shoved the corset open, his gaze darkening as it dropped to her breasts, then his big palms cupped them, his thumbs rasping over her nipples reverently.
A soft, rumbling groan was her only warning before he was on her again, his mouth plundering hers with added savagery, kissing her as though eating her alive was a possibility.
This was such a mistake, probably the biggest in her life, but self-imposed celibacy and bottled up frustration refused to let her stop. She’d missed being touched, missed having a competent pair of hands pushing her buttons, missed being connected.
She dug her nails into his ribs as his mouth cruised to her neck, tongue and teeth unerringly finding the erogenous zone he knew drove her crazy. Her knees began to tremble, her pussy clenching on emptiness. Even her thighs were quivering in anticipation.
“Pull down the shorts, Bennie,” he ordered, stroking his tongue over the spot that almost brought her to orgasm. “Pull them down, kick them off, and spread your legs.”
Violet bit his ear sharply. “Don’t presume to command me, Boudreaux.”
Pain lanced her neck, his teeth sinking into her skin so hard she was surprised there wasn’t blood. He didn’t let go, holding her on the brink of pain until it began to bloom into dizzying pleasure, while his hands followed the contours of her curves down to her hips.
The shorts were yanked down abruptly, sliding down her legs to pool around her feet, then his foot gently kicked hers to the side until the leather garment became a restraint. Fingers traced her pussy; he chuckled when he pressed a single digit inside slick, abundant heat.
“Mine, Bennie. Forever mine.” A second thick finger delved inside, stretching her mercilessly. “How hard do I need to fuck you to get rid of any trace of the last man who touched you?”
If she whimpered, he’d think he’d won. Instead, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back. “This means nothing, Boudreaux. A casual fuck, nothing more, are we clear?”
He studied her face carefully, a slow and very suspicious smile creeping over his face. “Oh, absolutely, Mistress. One casual, meaningless fuck, coming right up.” Jerking his head from her grasp, he removed his fingers from her eager pussy and spun her around roughly.
Violet gasped, trying to untangle her feet, but Reaux pulled her hips back, leaving her no option but to set her hands against the wall or use her face to support her instead.
Her feet were kicked apart again to the full extent of the shorts, and she knew the position would make her tight.
Her lack of indulging in sex for such a long time meant she’d be tighter still, which concerned her.
Reaux was built for fucking, and he specialized in hard, rough, and long when he wasn’t in a scene. Sex on its own was an exercise in domination, an opportunity to leave his mark in his woman without leaving one on her.
There was no way she could ask him to go slow, to be gentle. He’d want to know why, would pry her apart until she confessed there’d been no one but him since the day he sent her away, and that… she couldn’t hand him that much power over her, no matter what.
The blanket dropped to the floor with a soft sound.
Violet’s heart began to pound, her breathing became pants. It shamed her to discover she was quivering like a mare in heat, waiting for a stallion to mount and breed her.
How the hell was she supposed to take back control now when he’d switched things around on her so effortlessly?
Teeth clenched, she pushed her ass back at him. “I haven’t got all day, boy.”
“Of course, Mistress,” he said amiably, his accent pure French now. “My apologies.”
The only warning she got was the quick up-down rub of his crown through her slit before it eased in, stretching her entrance.
From experience, she was aware how sore she was going to be—the first time she’d taken him, all those years ago, an icepack and three days of no contact were the only things that relieved the tenderness.
Then, he’d been gentle with her.
Now… all bets were off…
…Until his hands gripped her hips, telling her she was in for a rough ride. When he was in a loving, caring mood, his hands reflected it; in that mood, he preferred eye contact, watching his lover come apart at his behest.
Reaux slammed inside her, the familiar length and girth of his cock punching deep, lifting her onto her toes. Still wearing her heels, she was the right height for him in this position, providing the perfect angle.
Violet bit her lip to stifle the scream he wrenched from her, even as her body and mind conspired against her in their need to let him know just how much they appreciated his efforts.
Hands braced on the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut, immersing herself in the sensations she’d craved for too long.
When his groin smacked against her ass, she almost came.
He filled her perfectly, as goddamn always. From entrance to cervix, his erection possessed her completely. Long, thick, hot… every inch rebranding her.
Reaux shifted, sliding his left arm around the front of her hips as he stepped forward, straightening her back against his chest. His right hand covered hers on the wall, a groan rumbling from his chest as he rested his chin on her shoulder.
“Indescribable, Bennie. I’ve thought about this for a long time, but coming home…
the reality is more than I ever imagined. ”
Oh hell, she thought.
She’d instigated the mistake that was going to be her downfall.