Chapter 4
Iarrived home with two minutes to spare. The house was too silent, giving off a vibe of abandonment. Too quiet because my daughter and Gage were nowhere to be found. The living room and kitchen were empty. I checked Gage’s office before peeking inside Eve’s room, but they were vacant as well.
Trepidation clutched my gut as I halted outside our bedroom.
I knew he was home—I’d spied his car in the driveway.
I could practically feel him beyond our bedroom door.
Pushing it open, I wasn’t surprised to find him waiting in the spanking chair.
His guarded expression made me nervous. I couldn’t read him, and I hated his cool and collected mask more than anything.
“Where’s Eve?” I asked, clutching the dry cleaning in my hands.
“Leah’s mother picked her up. She’s spending the day with them.”
Alarm bells rang in my head. “You didn’t discuss it with me first?
” I tried to keep my voice level, but in the back of my mind, I worried that he’d had me followed, was terrified he’d seen me in Ian’s arms. This morning had convinced me that he knew something was up, but if he figured out I’d met with his brother…
I tried not to shrink at the thought.
“Who’s in charge in this marriage, Kayla?” He rose, took the dry cleaning from me, and placed it on the bed. His expectant gaze settled on my face, and I realized it wasn’t a rhetorical question.
“You are.”
He nodded. “I’m not just your husband. I’m your Master. I don’t discuss things with you.”
“When it comes to me, maybe, but she’s my daughter. You can’t—”
He pressed a finger to my lips. “You should quit while you’re ahead.” I ceased arguing, and he dropped his hand. “Prepare for me in the basement.”
“Am I in trouble?” I asked, anxiety thundering in my chest.
He knows. God, he knows.
The severity of his expression softened. “No, baby.” He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re not in trouble.”
I let out a small breath of relief, hopefully inconsequential enough that he wouldn’t notice. But if he didn’t intend to punish me, then that could only mean one thing.
“So today is about play?”
He gripped my jaw between his forefinger and thumb. “I know it’s been a few days since I’ve had you on your knees properly, but that doesn’t excuse you.” His firm hold wasn’t designed to inflict pain—he only did it to emphasize that he held all the power. “How do you address me?”
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“No need for an apology. Just be a good little slave for your Master and do as you’re told.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. “You might like what I have in store for you. Or not, depending on how you look at it.”
My heartbeat took off without me. God, how could he still make me this nervous?
I’d lived with him for a year—a whole damn year—but the problem wasn’t familiarity.
The problem was the exact opposite; I knew him too well…
which meant I knew better than to guess at what was coming next because Gage was as volatile as he was sexy.
“Don’t take too long. I’ll be down shortly.” He brushed his lips over mine before disappearing through the doorway.
I made my way to the basement’s entrance, found the key in its hiding place above the door—out of Eve’s reach—and ventured inside. The temperature dropped, and the air grew chillier as I descended the stairs. He liked the way the cold hardened my nipples, so I didn’t dare turn up the thermostat.
I eyed the floor where he expected to find me, naked and kneeling.
Waiting. Even though I didn’t have much time, I wandered into the bathroom and finger-combed my deep red locks.
The distressed expression of the woman in the mirror gave me pause.
Uncertainty strained her features, but her cheeks were also flushed from the exhilaration of the unknown.
My fingers caught in a stubborn tangle, and I nearly growled because I didn’t have a say in how I wore my hair.
It had grown too long, too heavy, and I was tempted to cut it despite Gage’s orders that I leave it be.
He liked to yanked on it during sex, so I wasn’t allowed to come near it with scissors.
But it was my hair, and I was the one who had to comb through the knots every day.
Expelling a weary sigh, I removed my blouse and exposed my breasts, shoved my skirt down my legs until it bunched around my feet.
Save for the infinity collar that never left my neck, I stood in the bathroom, unclothed and shivering.
Unless I wanted play to turn into punishment, I’d better quit stalling and get into position.
He entered a few minutes later, his shirt and shoes gone.
The tailor made slacks he favored hugged him in all the right places, showcasing the huge erection straining beneath his zipper.
I knelt on the hard floor with my thighs spread just how he liked, hands clasped at the small of my back, eyes downcast. I thrust my breasts upward to offer him the best view of my nipples.
“Good girl.”
Why his approval traveled through my system, heating the core of what made me a woman, I’d never understand.
I’d stopped agonizing over the whys of our relationship dynamics a long time ago.
We were what we were. I was who I was. No point in fighting it just because what we had wasn’t conventional. It just was.
He neared me with purpose, unbuttoning his pants, pulling his zipper down.
With confident hands, he took his cock out and folded his fingers around the base.
He didn’t have to command me—simply standing before me with his erection aimed at my mouth was enough.
I knew my place, anticipated his needs so well that pleasing him became the fuel for my hunger. It was second nature.
Keeping my hands clasped at my back, I leaned forward and ran my tongue along the underside of his cock.
The tiny breath he took, sucked in between clenched teeth, was my reward.
I softened my lips and pressed a kiss on his tip.
His arousal moistened my lips, teased my tongue with the salty taste of him.
He groaned, his fingers sifting through my hair, holding me to him with a tender, hypnotic caress as he pushed into my mouth, shoving deep so I had no choice but to take his entire length.
He moaned as he plundered, his hips swiveling with each thrust, his cock as forceful as it was merciful. The need in him took over, and his pace increased. Breathing escalated—his and mine.
Shit, he was in a weird mood. Gage either fucked me hard, regardless of what hole he was using, or he just…loved me. Something about this felt in-between, on the edge of a brutal mouth fuck. Yet I sensed his restraint, and it confused the heck out of me.
“Kayla—” He halted with a gasp, his cock throbbing on my tongue, the head finding respite between my tonsils. My gag reflex kicked in, spasmed around his shaft.
He breathed in ragged bursts. “You know what gagging does to me.”
I did, and I was bewildered because he held back instead of shoving deeper.
I lifted my eyes, and I would have gladly knelt at his feet all day, his cock taking residence between my lips, if he’d look at me like that forever.
With heated, indigo eyes that imparted his obsession in waves of longing, lust, and possessive madness.
I yearned for all of those things—yearned for our bodies twisted in the sheets, slick with the kind of sweat only mind-blowing sex could inspire. And I ached. Hell, how I ached and craved and thirsted for his weight on me, for his fists pinning my wrists to the bed. Taking what was his.
Leaving me helpless to stop it.
A shiver traveled through me. I whimpered, resisting the urge to touch myself, and silently begged him with my gaze.
He gritted his teeth. “You’re not coming.”
My heart sank, and I slammed back to reality with a harsh jolt. What if he’d found out about my clandestine meeting with Ian? What if this was all a sick and twisted game, and I’d be better off coming clean? With my mouth full of cock, I couldn’t even do that.
“Don’t give me that look. You always think the worst of me. Stop thinking you’re being punished because you’re not. I’m not coming either.” He closed his eyes for a few moments and just breathed, as if he couldn’t fathom not climaxing down my throat.
I couldn’t fathom it either.
“Baby…” His eyes popped open, and he inhaled, exhaled. “We’re not coming until we celebrate the day I got your stubborn, sexy ass down the aisle.” Letting out a furious groan of frustration, he pulled out then helped me to my feet.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What are we doing down here then?”
Hauling me into his arms, he attacked my mouth as he carried me across the room.
We all but fell into the St. Andrew’s cross, his hands supporting my ass as my legs wrapped around his waist, our tongues clashing in battle.
In the space of a few minutes, the basement had gone from freezing to an inferno.
Perspiration crawled between my cleavage, bathing my skin in a sheen of pure lust.
We broke apart, and our eyes met and held.
“What we’re doing down here,” he began, nipping my bottom lip, “is beginning a torturous week of teasing.” Another nibble, and then he whispered, “Practicing restraint through denial.” He tempted the seam of my mouth with his tongue, and I parted my lips, inviting him inside again. “Practicing the art of edging.”
Inch by agonizing inch, he pushed his cock into me, right to the hilt, and pinned my back to the wall with nothing more than his strong body.
“Arms up,” he said.
I lifted my hands, already reaching for the chains meant to shackle me.
“You feel so damn good.” His groan of self-control vibrated against my lips. He fumbled with the chains for a few moments, too caught up in the blaze roaring between us. Finally, he locked the cuff around my left wrist. “Too fucking good.”
“So do you,” I whispered, trembling as he pulsed inside me. “I need more.”
“Who am I?”
“My Master.” I gave him the title without hesitation. Would have given anything to feel him move.
He worked on securing my right wrist, and soon I hung from the cross, held up by nothing more than my wrists and the power in his thighs, the force of his cock.
“Tell your Master what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me.” Except I didn’t. I wanted more. I wanted his body wrapped around mine, his arms caging me within his warmth and protection.
I wanted his love.
I hungered for the last decaying brick of his fortress to crumble, because even after being his wife for a year, he still hid parts of himself from me.
Parts of himself I feared he’d never uncloak.
It was easier to command me, to have me on my knees with his cock in my mouth, or bent over our mattress while he beat and fucked me than to expose the tatters of his soul.
“I’ll fuck you,” he said, thrusting in a slow, sadistic way designed to make me his. To keep me at his feet, underneath him, against the wall. “But sliding in and out of your sweet cunt won’t end in orgasm for either of us. Think beyond sex. If you could have anything, what would it be?”
“To not be helpless.” Once the words were out, settling between us, there was no taking them back.
He glanced at my outstretched arms. “Yet here you are, your cunt begging to cream on my cock.” He withdrew then dived in with a brutal thrust. A cry tore from my lips, part pain, part ecstasy.
“What do you want, Kayla?”
“Your submission.” I felt my eyes go wide. Where had that come from? Someplace deep inside that craved him at my mercy, where he could deny me nothing. Demand nothing. “You submitted once. I want that again.”
He stilled inside me. “That’s what you really want?”
I remembered him beneath me, his hands tied to the headboard, muscles straining with unchecked power.
Remembered how teasing him to insanity had been the most intoxicating night of my life.
His desperation and frustration. The way he’d watched me as I brought myself to orgasm again and again.
How he’d given me a piece of himself he’d never planned to give.
Yeah. I wanted that again.
My silence must have been answer enough. He pulled out, lowered me to my feet, and stepped back, appreciation blanketing his face as he studied his helpless slave whose body begged for whatever he was willing to give.
He rubbed his jaw, considering. “If you can go the whole week without coming, I’ll think about it.”
My jaw about dropped to my breasts.
“But don’t think I’ll make it easy,” he warned. “I’ll have you out of your mind with needing to come before the week’s over.”
My need for him shuddered in my core, and I moaned, a moment away from pleading with him. “A whole week?”
He couldn’t be serious. Neither one of us would make it.
But he nodded, fell to his knees, and brought his fingers to my mound, spreading my wet lips. “This will be the ultimate test of control, don’t you think, Kayla?” He raised a brow. A challenge. “Can you handle it?”
My nipples peaked, and my chest rose and fell too fast. With a sigh, I let the back of my head thump against the wall. “Can you, Master?”
“I won’t deny that it’ll be a challenge.” He ran a finger up my slit, drawing a tremor from my bones. “But you know I can never resist a challenge.” His lips curved into his devil’s grin, then he leaned forward and sucked my clit into his wicked mouth.