Kayla looked at herself in the gorgeous lace-pleated chiffon evening gown. An elegant velvet belt cinched her waist in, the deep V of the bodice showing off her golden skin. The color was what drew her to the floor-length gown. It was a lovely ocean blue. The long skirt of the gown and slightly lighter lace panels made her think of waves as she moved.
“It’s stunning,” one of the saleswomen said, shaking her head as though she’d never quite seen anything like it.
“So beautiful. That is from our fall line. Straight off the runway,” another commented. “Everyone will be talking about this gown. It’s perfect for red-carpet events.”
Or private formal events. Josh had told her his friend liked to dress for dinner and she would need several formal gowns. She’d found a couple, but nothing that suited her the way this one did. This was the one. This was the one she would be wearing on the night she completed her operation. There would be a big party to celebrate Josh and she would sneak away, find the Commander’s office and get the intelligence she needed, and look perfectly stylish while she did it.
“We need a private dressing room.”
Her whole body went still because she knew that voice. Deep, dark, with the edge of a growl. Predatory.
Her Dom was in the house.
Around her, the saleswomen were fluttering as though they suddenly found themselves sharing tight space with a hungry tiger.
Kayla caught his stare in the three-paneled mirror she stood in front of. His eyes were dark, his jaw tight. And was that a bit of blood on his fist? Her first thought was to run to him, see where he was hurt, try to baby him.
That was not what he needed. Not even close.
A thrill went through her system. A totally selfish thrill. Josh was on edge and this was one of the ways he brought himself back. Something had happened and he likely wouldn’t talk about it. At least he wouldn’t until he’d regained control. If she refused him, he would probably walk away, find a gym and punish his body until he passed out.
Or he could punish hers. Punishing her body ended in her screaming out his name when she came, so she knew which path she was voting for.
Either way, she was going to let him make the decision, let him take control. This was the time when he needed her submission the most. He didn’t need it in the real world. He needed a partner there, and she rather thought he’d been surprised by how well they worked together. He asked her opinion, followed it most of the time, allowed her to take the lead when it came to security.
But when he got that look in his eyes, she knew the time had come to give him the other piece of herself—the part that submitted to the right Master.
Her body was still, but she could feel a ripple of pure arousal start to flow. He stared at her in the mirror, their eyes locking in understanding.
He needed what only she could give him.
Yep, that did it for her.
“Private?” one of the salespeople asked, as though she’d forgotten the definition of the word.
Josh’s eyes never left hers, holding still as though neither would move again until they were alone and could find their proper roles. “Kayla, have you decided on that gown?”
She shook her head. “I think I need a couple of minutes to decide, but they could start preparing the rest of the order. It should take them a while because I’m going to want it all.”
A little gasp left the sales staff as though they’d collectively realized what that meant. Money. Lots of commission. Enough that they could let go of any prudish ideas rattling around in their heads.
The lead saleswoman was suddenly all solicitous concern. “This whole section of the store can be made private. For bridal and formal wear, of course. You need a lot of space for gowns like these. I’ll pull these curtains down, tie them together, and you’ll have your own private space. Please take all the time you need to decide. We’ll handle everything else.”
One of the younger women’s eyes widened. “But I think he means to…”
The lead put her perfectly manicured hand up. “Appreciate how beautiful this dress is and very likely decide to purchase it along with all the others? Yes, I think that’s what he’s going to do, too. Chrissy, why don’t you go and turn up the music? It’s far too low. We don’t want it to sound like a tomb in here after all.”
That was an experienced salesperson.
The heavy velvet curtains dropped and she found herself alone with him. The question was which Josh was she about to get? He liked to play roles. She’d watched him do it. There was the private Josh and the one who showed up a party, the all-business Josh and the one who built walls faster than anyone she’d seen before.
But this one? Hungry Dom.
Was Hungry Dom also Hurt Dom?
“Josh? What happened?”
He shook his head. “Take off the dress if you want to keep it. I don’t care either way.”
He would pay for it even if he left it in tatters on the floor, but he was going to have her naked one way or another. She got that message loud and clear. Luckily it was a fairly easy dress to get out of. Flowy was always easier than tight. She turned to watch him as she undid the belt at her waist and then eased the bodice down. No bra. No way she could hide the fact that her nipples were tightly peaked and he hadn’t put a hand on her yet.
“I’m serious, Kayla. Get rid of the dress. This is a dungeon now. I told you when you signed that contract that I would have you when I wanted and where I wanted. When I wanted and how I wanted.”
Yes, his want was perfectly clear to her. His want was need, and that made everything different. She shoved the dress down and laid it over one of the chairs left behind in the space. She pushed the thong she wore over her hips, placed it with the dress, and then turned back to him. He hadn’t mentioned the shoes and likely wouldn’t, so she crossed the space between them, her sky-high Yves Saint Laurents making no sound on the carpet before she sank down in front of him. Knees wide, palms up, head bowed.
“How can I serve you, Joshua?”
He was silent for a moment and she watched his boots. They didn’t make a move. He was tightly coiled and she waited for him to go off. “Just like that?”
“Yes. No questions asked. No need to talk unless you want to. You need my submission and it’s yours.”
A hand touched her head and then she felt his fingers sink in, twisting lightly at first. “I wonder if you mean that.”
“I do.”
He kept twisting and pain flared along her scalp. A bite, nothing more, and then he was petting her again. Then another, longer twist, a harder bite that had her gasping and biting back a moan. “Will you mean it when I’m rougher than I’ve ever been? Will you mean it when you realize everyone in this store is listening to what I do to you?”
“Haven’t you figured out that I don’t care what other people think? Not about this. Not about much. I find people who care about me no matter what and I try to stick close to them. Are you going to hurt me?”
“Yes.”
“Thank god.” Her body relaxed and then tensed again as he forced her head back.
“I hope you mean that.” He leaned over. So close she could almost feel his lips on hers, knew she was about to get what she wanted.
And then moved away. Yeah, that part sucked. The spankings and canings and that part where he pinched her nipples right before licking them was awesome, but the no kissing was starting to rankle.
One more wall she couldn’t climb.
He stopped and his hand fell away. “I’m on the edge. I went out to take a call and a fucking photographer showed up.”
She could handle that. “Do you want me to kill him? I have a really slender knife with me. One good poke through the right ribs and up into his heart and he won’t even bleed too much. I can leave him in a nice alley and it could be days before someone thinks he’s not just sleeping it off.”
He stopped for a moment and he had that look on his face—the one lots of people got when she talked. It was that “what did you say?” look. “You’re not joking. Sometimes I have to remind myself that you’re not joking.”
Sometimes she was. This time she wasn’t. “No. If he’s out there, I’ll take care of it.”
Something seemed to ease inside him, his shoulders coming down the barest notch. “Take care of me instead. Stand up and go over to the chair. I want you to bend over. This discipline isn’t about anything you’ve done wrong. It’s not to correct a behavior or to instill a lesson. This discipline is about me. I need to spank your ass until it’s red and know you like it. I need to put a mark on you and know you accept it. If you don’t want that or it scares you, I’ll find another way.”
She couldn’t help it. Her eyes rolled. She’d loved to say they kind of did that on their own, but the idea that a spanking scared her made her bratty side come out.
“What did you just do?” That hand was back in her hair, twisting viciously this time, forcing her to look him in the eyes. This time, the pain sizzled along her scalp, lighting it up. “Did you roll your eyes at me when I was kindly explaining what the parameters of the scene were?”
Put that way, it might not have been the most polite thing to do. “I wasn’t rolling them at you. I was rolling them because of you. I’ve been tortured by professionals.”
“Then I’ll have to up my game, won’t I? I’ll have to try harder so I don’t bore you.” He leaned over, his mouth against her ear. “You should feel lucky that I’m not equipped to properly discipline you. If I had a tube of ginger lube right now, I would show you what I do to brats who roll their eyes at me. I suspect that by the time we’re done here, the impulse will have passed, but you should know it would not go well for you right now.”
The threat sent a delicious shiver down her spine. This was what she’d been missing with the Doms at The Garden. They were all about the play, and not one of them would have seriously punished her. The relationship wasn’t intimate enough.
“Since I don’t have a handy tube of lube,” he began, “go and bend over that chair. Your legs better be fucking wide and your back straight. Go. Go right fucking now or I’ll start this here and you won’t like it.”
Like? She loved how rough his voice was. He was on the edge, but she trusted him not to fall over it. This was how he was trying to keep himself sane. She moved as quickly as she could, crossing the space between her and that chair, getting into position so he wouldn’t have any other reason to punish her. When she turned her head, she could see him in the mirror.
His jeans had tented, the long line of his erection plain against the denim. How long would it be before he ditched the jeans and stroked that big dick in his hand? She loved watching him as he stroked himself and stalked her. He was staring at her now, his eyes on her form.
He moved to the place where she’d draped the pretty blue dress over the chair closest to the velvet curtains. “I like this, Kay. It looks beautiful on you. We’ll get this for you. After we get back from Mexico, awards season starts. You can wear this to the Oscars and I’ll find a place to fuck you backstage. You’ll do that, right? You’ll let me fuck you backstage? You’ll spread your legs and welcome my cock while they announce best picture and everyone’s clapping. They’ll really be clapping because of how well and thoroughly I’ll have you that night.”
“Yes, Joshua.” She couldn’t tell him she probably wouldn’t be around then. God, she didn’t want to think about it. Why should she? He would still want a McKay-Taggart team around him. Dec and Shane would rotate out eventually, but she didn’t have to. She would be done with the CIA job, but Josh didn’t have to know she’d ever done it. She could still be his close cover expert. Why shouldn’t she?
He didn’t have to know they’d started with a lie.
He picked up her thong. “I don’t like this.”
“I was trying on clothes. They tend to like you to have undies on,” she explained.
“I don’t care. You’re mine. You’re not theirs. I make the rules when it comes to you.”
There was that overly possessive caveman she’d come to count on. He seemed to not bond to many, but when he did, it was quick and fierce and he held on tight. “Yes, Joshua. I won’t wear them again.”
He palmed her ass, his hands so big he could almost cup both cheeks in one. “I’m probably going to have to talk to the police in a bit.”
“What?” She started to come up.
His hand moved in a stinging arc, striking her left cheek with ruthless intent. One and two and three until she’d settled back into the position he’d put her in.
“Are you okay?” Kayla asked on a shaky breath. She was damn glad the chair had wooden arms because she needed them to stay upright. “Do we need to call a lawyer?”
Another nasty slap. “You need to concentrate on this. I was telling you because I don’t want you to be surprised if there are cops on the other side of that curtain when I’m done with you. Or if they rush in and catch us. I don’t care at this point. At this point, they could storm the place and I’ll answer all their questions while I’m inside you.”
He moved his hand over her ass as though tracing the marks he’d already made.
“What happened?” She braced herself.
He smacked her again, but this one was almost idle, and then his hand moved between her legs, brushing her core. “I went outside to take a phone call and I got into it with a fucking photographer. I’ll likely have to pay for his camera, though perhaps not. Burke said he would take care of it and then sent me in here to you.”
Smart man. “He’s getting rid of the evidence.” She gasped as he skimmed along her clitoris. “Oh, Josh.”
That was when he pinched her. Hard. It made her squirm and squeal and gave him the excuse to spank her more. Over and over, he brought his hand down on her backside, fire licking along her flesh.
She squeezed her eyes shut, holding in the tears that threatened. Tears were good. They were cleansing and she often needed a scene like this one to release the stress and have a good cry. Somewhere along the way, she’d forgotten how to do that. Oh, she knew it had happened sometime during her MSS years. She’d been forced to go cold, forced to shut down entire sections of her personality so she could slip into her sister’s shoes and live out a nightmare that wasn’t supposed to be hers. Only D/s had ever given her a safe place to cry, but she couldn’t do it now. Now wasn’t for her. Now was for Josh, and she couldn’t have the police storming in here because they thought he was hurting her.
So she bit her bottom lip as he executed another volley of stinging slaps.
“You’ll wear a plug tomorrow. You’re going to get that sweet ass plugged up in front of the entire club. They’ll watch as I work that plug inside. How is it going to feel knowing everyone will be watching you? Everyone is going to know what a bad sub you’ve been that you deserve your Master’s plug stretching that tiny asshole all night long. Depending on how gracious you are between now and then, I will decide what kind of lubricant to use. But before I work the plug in, I’m going to play. I’m going to stretch your cheeks wide and show off what belongs to me. I’ll let everyone look and all the Doms will have to shift around because they’ll be hard at the thought of that tiny hole squeezing their cocks. Thinking is all they’ll get to do because it’s fucking mine. That pretty hole belongs to me and I’m going to take it. First with a finger diving in, opening you up and fucking deep inside, and then later with my cock. You’re going to feel the burn, my luscious little sub.”
She could practically feel it now. He was so good with the dirty talk that sometimes she thought she might come simply listening to his voice.
“I wish I had more time,” he said. “I suppose I’ll do what I must. Don’t you let go of that chair.”
She took a deep breath and felt him move in behind her. What happened next was fast and furious, his cock thrusting in hard, penetrating her in an instant.
She bit back a cry. He held on to her hips and fucked deep inside her.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Tell me I get to do whatever I want to you.”
“Anything, Josh. Anything you want.” She was worried that she was starting to mean every single one of those words. This man seemed to own her soul for some reason, and she didn’t want him to give it back.
There was something deep and primal to the rhythm he set, a ruthless pounding that found its crescendo all too soon.
The orgasm swamped her senses, making the rest of the room fade away until all that mattered was the pleasure coursing through her veins. Josh’s hands tightened and he forced himself in as far as he could go. He held her tight, spilling himself deep inside.
Then she felt him step back, heard him moving.
“Get dressed, pet.” His voice was calmer, perfectly steady now. “I’m going to dispose of this condom and I believe our friends are here.”
“Mr. Hunt, this is Beverly Hills, PD,” a deep voice said. “I’m going to need you to step out now. There’s been a complaint made against you.”
Kayla reached for her jeans, picking up the thong Josh had tossed back over her street clothes.
“I’ll be out in a moment, sir,” Josh replied calmly. “After I stop my girlfriend from making a horrible mistake. I said no underwear.”
Holy shit. “Josh, the police are out there.”
“And the police understand the necessity for rules. You do, don’t you, Officer? Rules are important to a society and they’re important in a relationship. They set the boundaries and foundations on which trust can be built.”
“Uh, I came out because someone accused you of beating a photographer,” the voice came back.
“Naturally,” Josh conceded, tucking his shirt back in. He shoved the thong in his front pocket and didn’t seem to care that it was kind of sticking out. “I didn’t beat the man. I did, however, give my lady in here a proper schooling on the role of underwear in her life. I’m glad you’re here. Perhaps you can scare her straight. When I said no underwear, I meant absolutely none. I understand this thong might not qualify as clothing at all, but it’s the thought that matters.”
She stared at him, wide-eyed.
He shrugged. “I’m feeling better. Burke was right.”
“Ma’am, is he hurting you in any way?” the officer asked.
She finished dressing and faced Josh. Two could play at this game. “Not in any way that didn’t lead to a screaming orgasm, Officer. And I learned my lesson. No more panties for me.”
She threw open the curtains and was faced with a bunch of people who seemed a bit on the disconcerted side. Except Declan. He was leaning against the jewelry countertop, yawning.
“I told you my boss was doing something way more interesting than beating up on some out-of-shape photog,” Declan said.
Kayla picked up on his plans. “I’m very sorry, Officer. I’m afraid he was doing me. I bought a lot of clothes today. Gotta work that off somehow.”
Then the officers were chuckling as if they’d seen this a thousand times before and at least the poor schmo whose credit cards were getting a workout was getting something out of this, too.
As the police began to sort things out, she had to wonder what had come over Josh. He was incredibly private and yet in that moment, it seemed he hadn’t cared at all that everyone might know about his sex life.
What had changed? And did she dare to hope the change was her?