Chapter 28
The man liked to gamble. A lot. He’d been at it for most of the day, and if I’d harbored any guilt about the amount of money he’d spent on Eve’s care, I didn’t now. I was disgusted at how easily he threw away his money, but I couldn’t help but watch in morbid fascination.
So this was how the other half lived. I still couldn’t wrap my mind around it.
The guy next to us arranged the dice the way he wanted them.
His blond hair brushed his collar, and every time he leaned forward to roll, his shirt sleeve grazed my arm.
He shot a grin at me before tossing the dice toward the opposite end of the craps table.
The large crowd pressed in on all sides, and everyone erupted in cheers.
“Easy six!” One of the gaming attendants said.
Gage just won some of this money back. He leaned against my back and reached in to collect.
We’d been standing in this position for the past hour; him behind me, his arms caging me in and his cock nudging my ass.
He’d been rock-hard the whole time, and not even the man next to us, with his bold and inviting smile, distracted Gage from his desire.
I tensed every time the guy aimed his flirtations in my direction, but so far Gage hadn’t unhinged.
But he was about to.
His rum-scented breath drifted across my bare shoulder, and he brought his lips to my ear.
“If he looks at you like that one more time, neither of you are going to like the outcome.” He pushed his erection into my left butt cheek a little harder and tightened his arm around my waist. “Quit being so damn sexy.”
Of course, in Gage Channing’s twisted mind, this would be my fault.
Poker chips were dropped and picked up, clacking together in the triumph of a win, and excited chatter charged the air as everyone prepared for the next come-out roll. Mr. Big Flirt did something stupid; he touched me.
“It was all you, baby! You’re my lucky charm!” His fingers circled my wrist, and he wrenched my arm up in the air, as if we were champions celebrating a win.
Oh no. No, no, no…
Gage clamped his fingers around the guy’s wrist and squeezed until my hand fell free. “Touch her again, and I’ll break off your fucking fingers.”
The guy shrank back, his eyes going wide. I couldn’t blame him. If Gage hadn’t so effectively trapped me between him and the table, I would have done the same thing. I didn’t have to see his face to know his features were twisted in rage.
“Dude, you need to chill out. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
One of the table attendants interrupted their argument. “Is there a problem here, Mr. Channing?”
“Yes. This asshole thinks it’s okay to harass and paw at my date.”
And that was the last I saw of Mr. Big Flirt, though his indignation at being escorted away like a criminal lingered.
Just like Tom’s had at work. Hating how everyone’s focus was drawn to me, I pushed away from the table.
“Let me out.” I cranked my neck and glared at him. “Right now, Gage. I’m not kidding.”
He backed away, and I bolted. Tears threatened to spill over as I weaved through the multitude of gamblers.
Heavy smoke drifted in the air, which only made my eyes burn more.
Gage caught up to me at the elevators. We both entered, and I kept my attention fastened on the doors, unwilling to look or speak to him.
And he didn’t speak to me.
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen when we got back to our room, but it couldn’t be good.
Would he be able to see through his haze of red to hear me say no?
Or was I in for another horrendous beating?
Hysteria rushed up and lodged under my breastbone, and I could hardly breathe as the doors slid open at our floor.
He dug his fingers into my arm and dragged me to our suite. My face was already wet with tears.
“Please, Gage—”
“Shut up.”
He swiped his card, the light flickered green, and the beep signaled the beginning of what I knew was going to be a hellish night.
“I’m saying no,” I said as soon as he shoved me through the door. “Wha…whatever”—I swallowed the vomit rising in my throat—“whatever you’re gonna do, stop.”
The door slammed, and he pushed me against it.
“I said shut up.” His hands shook, which only intensified the terror fisting my heart.
“What I’m going to do,” he said, his gaze dropping to my mouth, “is kiss the fuck out of you.” He tangled his hands in my hair, leaned in, and sighed against my lips. “Do you have a problem with that?”
No, but I should have.
It was my only thought as he took control of my mouth.
Hot tongues swirling together, the taste of rum on his lips, the way he moaned my name before sucking my lower lip between his teeth, and his fingers tightening in my hair, pulling against my scalp—every sensation zipped through me like a firefly.
I should definitely have a problem with this.
I couldn’t recall the space of time between the door and the bed, but the mattress welcomed the weight of my body, and Gage blanketed me, his mouth never leaving mine, never failing to suck the free will from my soul with the poison of his kiss.
He grabbed at my dress, ripping and tearing, and his frantic fingers clutched handfuls of me; my hips, my thighs, shoving my legs wide open, pushing my knees up an instant before he slammed into me.
He was like a beast, desire his claws, and I came apart under his lethal need.
“Gage!” I urged him deeper, spreading my thighs further and arching to meet him. He pressed high into me, so high all I could feel was him.
He grunted, his forearms shaking on either side as he pumped. “Who am I, Kayla?” He plunged one more time, violently, and then went still.
I met his gaze—maniacal eyes possessing me—and shuddered. My heart feared him, but the gate of my sexual need was manned by him, owned by him.
And he knew it.
“Say it, or I’ll stop right now and cuff your hands to the headboard. I’ll make you edge all night until you’re begging me to fuck you.”
“Master.” I tilted my hips upward. “You’re my Master. Don’t stop.”
With a growl, his body engulfed mine, smothering and consuming, and the only thing more painful than being devoured so thoroughly was the sound of my unrestrained moans, a traitorous testimony of his control over me. My need for him ripped from my throat and poured from my being with every thrust.
And then I was chanting his name. “Master…Master…Master…” Moaning and moaning and moaning. “Master…Master…Master.” More moaning, more thrusting…and he was getting off on every sexual plea.
I was getting off on him.
I dug my nails into his shoulders and scratched my unbridled desperation down his back, on the cusp of splintering. It was right there for the taking—and with stunned frustration, I realized why my body wasn’t shattering.
I was waiting for his permission.
“Let me come, Master.”
He groaned. “Say it again. Tell me how bad you want it.”
I grabbed fistfuls of bedding, and a pitiful, keening cry broke loose. I rose to meet him, again and again, and gasped my plea. “Please! Give me permission, Master!”
He groaned again, an unrestrained sound that vibrated to my core. “Fuck, woman, I’m never letting you go.” He gripped my head and forced my gaze to his. “Come for me.”
I fell into oblivion.
His sapphire eyes drank me in as I came undone, holding me prisoner in their depths until the last wave carried me to a place only he could send me.
I was gasping, struggling just to breathe, when his control began to slip.
I watched him in wonder, in awe by the raw pleasure twisting his features.
We’d never been so close as we were in this moment; he’d never allowed himself to go like this, had never allowed me to see it.
He buried himself to the hilt, and his forehead fell against mine.
“Kayla…” He squeezed his eyes shut and moaned. “Baby…”
I buried my hands in his hair, fingers brushing the sweat at his nape. The sound of his vulnerability was the sexiest thing I’d ever heard. He cried out, hoarse and powerful, sensual and conquering, a sound of unstoppable release that poured out of him as he spilled into me.