Chapter Two
At work and in his personal life, Decklan laid out the facts and the truth. He didn’t tolerate BS or lies. With this woman, who eyed him with an intense amount of distrust coupled with a healthy dose of desire, at least when she thought he wasn’t looking, he intended to do the same.
They sat together at the bar. He ordered two club sodas and let her drink in silence, waiting until she was definitely over whatever had happened with Mike. She was. The tense quiet between them now had everything to do with them. She didn’t trust him, and his gut said the reasons went deep.
When she put down her drink and met his gaze, he decided it was time.
“I’m Decklan Dare.” He held out his hand.
“Amanda Collins.” She accepted the gesture, placing her smaller palm against his.
He immediately slid a thumb over the pulse point in her wrist, pleased with the rapid beat that told him she wasn’t immune. Just wary.
Wary he could deal with. Now that he was here, he was in for the night.
She attempted to tug her hand back, but he held on tightly, keeping his thumb pressed against her skin. It was his human lie detector, and with this one, he felt sure he’d need it.
“Thank you again for stepping in. Mike was an ass.” She bit down on her plump lower lip.
Fuck, he’d like to do the same. He merely nodded in agreement. “I’ve seen Mike in action before. At least he’s gone for good now.” He smiled. “So tell me, Amanda, what were you looking for—before your night was so rudely interrupted?”
A rapid increase in her pulse beat in her wrist. He did his best not to grin wider. In the wake of her silence, he decided to cut her some slack. “How about I tell you what I’m looking for instead?”
“I’m listening.” She blinked at him, brown eyes wide.
He rested their joined hands on the bar. “I’ll start with what I don’t want. No protocol. No games. Just hot, sweaty sex,” he told her, his cock tenting his dark jeans at the notion of sliding into her tight, wet sheath.
Her eyes darkened with hunger at his honest words. Beneath his thumb, her pulse was racing with the same desire beating inside him. Good, he thought, he’d read her correctly. Earlier, he hadn’t seen a woman looking to submit, he’d seen a female in need.
And their needs were obviously in sync. “I want you, Amanda. I want to get you out of here and indulge in what I’ve jerked off to since laying eyes on you months ago. I want my fingers on that gorgeous ass, my cock, burying itself inside you—”
“You had me at ‘I want you,’” she said. “There was no need to ruin a good thing with lies.” She rose to her feet, ready to bolt.
“I don’t like being insulted,” he warned, stopping her with his words and stern tone. He narrowed his gaze. “You said you don’t know me, so how can you think I’m lying?” He tightened his grip on her hand.
“If you wanted me that much, you would have approached me months ago, and as for my ass, it’s too large and—”
“Enough.” He changed his mind. Submission was definitely on tonight’s agenda. “Are you with me tonight?” he asked her.
She swallowed hard; the delicate lines of her throat moved up and down as she pondered the question. Slowly, she nodded.
He swiveled in his chair and pointed to his lap. “Then lie down. That’s ten for calling me a liar. Your ass is spectacular. Lush, round, and made for my hand.” He patted his lap again.
No way could she miss the outline of his cock pressing hard and insistent against his pants.
“I don’t… We didn’t negotiate.”
“True.” He nodded, annoyed that she got inside his head so badly he forgot the important things. “Is spanking a hard limit?”
“No,” she whispered, her eyes dilating at the thought.
“No what?” he asked. “Protocol isn’t what I’m looking for.” He didn’t want to be called sir or master. He did want his name on her perfect lips. Eventually he’d get them on his cock.
“No, Decklan,” she said, her voice still soft.
“Exhibition?” he asked.
She glanced nervously around the room. Most people seemed involved in their own play. Max watched from across the bar.
Decklan didn’t give a shit.
“It has been. In the past.”
He heard a but in there and raised an eyebrow.
“But I’m willing to try. With you.”
Her breath hitched and satisfaction soared through him. “Are you wearing underwear?”
A tiny shake of her head. Blood rushed out of his, all of it headed south.
“Then lift that skirt and lie down or say red and we can both head home. Separately.” Everything inside him stilled as he waited. The choice was hers. The power hers. If she walked away, he might not survive it. Another reason he hadn’t approached before now.
Eyes wide, her gaze never leaving his, she faced him. Her cheeks flushed a sexy shade of pink. And ever so slowly, she raised her skirt, walked the few steps closer, and thank God, lowered herself over his lap. She shifted, getting comfortable, wriggling against his rock-hard erection, and he groaned aloud.
He glanced down and faced every fantasy he had and then some. Her ass was round and pale, two beautiful globes waiting for his hand. He’d trained at this club, enjoyed it for a time, but had been tempted to leave it for a while now.
But her?
He was nowhere near ready to walk away. He smoothed his hand over one cheek, then the other, her skin butter soft and beckoning. She stiffened at first, but as he caressed her with one hand, she relaxed beneath his touch, and his cock perked up at her easy submission.
“Do you know why you’re in this position?” he asked, squeezing her cheek to make sure she was paying attention.
“I said that you lied.”
He had to lean closer to hear her. “Your ass is gorgeous,” he said, emphasizing his words with his first smack.
“Ouch!” She wriggled beneath him.
“Quiet.” He followed the first with two more, one on the other cheek, the third closer to her thigh. The sound and the crack of his hand blended together for him, giving him a rush he hadn’t experienced in a while. “I know you don’t know me, but you will. I don’t lie,” he told her, connecting with her flesh. Four. Her ass pinkened beautifully, his marks glowing on her skin.
She no longer made a sound, but her hands clasped his calves through the denim of his jeans, and a moan echoed up toward him. “Your sweet ass is the first thing I noticed about you.” Five. His hand stung and he came down on her once more. This time she arched into his hand and satisfaction filled him. Six was slightly harder, and he finished up with seven, eight, nine, and ten.
Small whimpers escaped her lips, reaching his ears. This was what he hadn’t seen in her before. The total surrender to her feelings. His gut told him there’d be tears in those eyes, not as much from the pain, because he’d gone easy, but from her giving in. She’d earned the release she needed, and he was all too happy to give it to her, despite the fact that he knew once he slid his fingers into her wet heat, he wouldn’t be walking away any time soon.
* * *
Amanda’s ass tingled and her pussy clenched in desperate need. The minute she’d lain down across Decklan’s lap, her head had begun to empty out. Reaching for his legs to anchor herself had felt natural. Right. She deserved the punishment, knowing she’d questioned his words with no good reason behind it except her own insecurities. Her ass was too big, her boobs were too, and so was her stomach. No matter how much she’d dieted in the past, she always had those curves. It was ingrained in her to believe no man would want her.
He claimed otherwise. She needed to believe him. And when the pain transformed into desire, she did. Why else would she bare her ass in front of a room full of people when she never had before? And why did a part of her actually like it? Because it pleased him. That much she understood.
Her sex throbbed, and the more he ran his palm over his handiwork, the more she wanted. Dampness coated her thighs and she needed to come.
He squeezed her cheeks together, and heat bloomed anew between her thighs, her clit pulsing with desperate need.
“Are you wet, baby?”
“God, yes.”
“Let’s see.” He slid a finger around her pussy, gliding over her wet lips, spreading the cream he’d created. “You’re soaking,” he said, pure male satisfaction in his tone.
The whimper that escaped barely sounded like her own.
He eased a finger inside her body, and she clenched around him, attempting to grip him tight, hold him in place. But she wasn’t running this show. Instead, he pumped that single digit in and out of her channel until she began wriggling against him, seeking deeper contact.
He slapped her again, and she dropped her head on a low moan.
Two fingers thrust deep, and his thumb worked her clit, pressing hard on the tiny nub that controlled her pleasure. In and out, harder and faster until she was writhing uncontrollably against his hand.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, each plunge of his fingers deeper, that gruff voice sexy enough to cause a mini orgasm on its own.
She lost track of time and place; the only thing that mattered was the collision of her body and his hand. She arched her back, pressing harder against him, reaching for a climax that was so close and so big her emotions were at the surface. Tears leaked from her eyelids.
And then she exploded on a scream, her orgasm taking over, pulling her up, up, and over. Pleasure like she’d never felt suffusing every cell of her being, and she rode out the wave, rocking on his hand, lost in sensation. And then his digits curled up inside her, hitting a place that was new to her, and tremors started again, this climax harder than the one before.
Just as the waves began subsiding, he pressed on her clit.
“No,” she moaned, knowing there was no way her body could take another.
“Yes, you can.” He pinched her hard and she came once more.
* * *
It had been ages since Decklan had done aftercare. Yet he sat on a couch in a corner of the club, an out-of-it Amanda wrapped in a blanket, curled in his lap. His cock throbbed with unslaked need, and he welcomed the feeling. It reminded him that there were times when it was worth the sacrifice to hold out. She’d reminded him.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Max chose a seat beside him and eyed the feminine bundle in his arms, a satisfied smile on his face. “You gave in and you liked it.”
“She needed it,” Decklan muttered, not wanting to disturb her until she came around on her own. Damn woman thought she was too curvy? Too big? She’d deserved to have that ass slapped. Next time he wanted to bite. To mark her and gain the satisfaction of seeing his imprint on her skin.
He shifted uncomfortably, knowing he couldn’t allow himself to get that involved with her. To do so meant some kind of relationship, which in turn involved allowing himself to get close and potentially care. Or even love. Which meant to risk loss. And loss was something Decklan didn’t deal well with. He’d lost his parents at nineteen, and he never wanted to feel that kind of pain and out-of-control panic again.
He shook his head to rid himself of the thought before he traveled to that dark place, but the memory didn’t negate the fact that he wanted more with this particular woman. More time to figure out why she got to him and more time than he’d had so far.
The bundle in his arms suddenly stirred. He shot Max a pointed look, and the other man rose to his feet. “I’m going. We can pick this up another time.”
Or not, Decklan thought irritably. Max liked to psychoanalyze. Decklan didn’t.
“What happened?” She glanced around, her big eyes blinking as she came to—and remembered. “Oh. Wow. I never go under like that.”
He grinned, unable to help the ridiculous feeling of pride that he’d been able to take her there. “You did. Here, take a drink.” He handed her a bottle of water that had been left for her. He unscrewed the cap and held the bottle for her to sip.
She drank some. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He paused, then decided to push her a little. A woman who looked like her didn’t need to suffer from self-esteem issues. “You need to look in a different mirror,” he said, tightening his arms so she couldn’t bolt.
And she tried to. He held on. “We don’t know each other, and I’m not going to push you to talk if you don’t want to. Just know I meant what I said.”
“Then you’re also saying you’re shy? That’s why it took six months and another guy being an ass in order for you to make a move?”
Shit. So there really was more to her disbelief and calling him a liar earlier. “Are you questioning me again? Because I’m more than happy to add another ten.”
She bit down on that full bottom lip. “I’m just being honest. I thought that was part of what went on here.” Once again, she tried to push away.
“You tempted me too much,” he said, admitting the truth. It was that or giving her up for the night—and that wasn’t happening.
As she accepted his answer, the tension eased, and she curled back into him. He released a long breath, unwilling to question it too hard.
He brushed his hand down her long hair, breathing in the mixture of her scent, peaches and arousal. Desire, thick and heavy, kicked him in the groin. She pulled at emotions inside him he’d locked down years ago.
Time to lay out the parameters. “I don’t do relationships.”
“Me neither.”
A waste, he immediately thought. This woman deserved to have a man take care of her. He wanted to take care of her.
He immediately discarded the dangerous desire. “Well then, I think we have something in common, and we can go on with our night. Is that what you want?” he asked.
She slowly nodded. “I want that very much, Decklan. I want you.”