Bejeweled and Bedeviled (9 page)

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Authors: Tiffany Bryan

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Chapter Nine

 

Her patience strung to the breaking point, Kayden closed her
eyes and took a sharp, deep breath. Her lungs emptied on a hiss when the motion
enhanced the pinch of the clips dangling from her nipples. She froze, letting
the snippet of pain fade.

Hunter’s hands moved to her hips.

Damning him and his cursed fortitude, she concentrated on
the warmth of those big, supporting hands and shallowed her breathing. She bit
back a demand that he remove the clips. All too sure he would know the reason
had little to do with pain itself, and everything to do with the invisible
hotwire link straight to her pussy and the shocking aftermath of pleasure.

His hands skimmed up and down her sides several times,
painting a trail of warmth. “You okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Put your hands back on the bed.”

More mindful of the clamps, she moved slowly. The chain
swung away from her body and her sensitive nipples took the full weight of the
thick gold links. Her muffled moan turned into a yelp when Hunter’s palm landed
across her ass.

Jarred forward, the chain swung out sharply and snapped
back. Her next moan was full blown.

“Much better.” The lack of sympathy in his tone was
contradictory to the soothing hand he ran over the spot he’d abused. “How can
you expect me to learn your limits if you continually suppress your reactions?”

He couldn’t have just asked? Riding out the ripple of pain
rolling across her ass, she fought the urge to turn and glare.

“Or was I mistaken in believing the clamps tight enough?
Would you prefer I tighten them more?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so. Now let’s get this thong off.”

The process of widening the opening around the butt plug,
sliding the skimpy thong down her hips and removing it after instructing her to
lift one leg and then the other amounted to no more than a few seconds and left
Kayden feeling a bit cheated that he hadn’t lingered a bit longer to tease and
play.

“Relax.” He rubbed his hands methodically over her back,
kneaded the back of her neck and shoulders, massaged her upper arms and
unhurriedly worked his way back.

Kayden arched into his soothing touch. “Mmm.” The kiss he
placed at the base of her spine ignited a spiraling tingle that fanned out over
her flesh.

“I had initially thought to remove your new toy before
granting your request to be…fucked. Considering how well you’ve taken to the
small amounts of pain I’ve administered so far, I’ve reconsidered.” He palmed,
squeezed and spread her ass cheeks, running his thumbs beneath the flared lip
of the plug.

Kayden internal muscles seized at the light tug, an
instinctive reaction to hold the plug in place. In the hours she’d worn it,
she’d discovered she liked the erotic feeling of something in her ass. “Leave it
in.”

After a prolonged silence, she hastened to say, “
Please
,
leave it in.”

“Better. Remember your manners and you’ll get everything you
want tonight,” he passed the tip of his finger teasingly through the puffy lips
of her pussy, “and so will I.”

“Hunter, p…leeez.” She lowered her shoulders and raised her
butt. The rasp of his fingernail lightly over her clit had her sucking in a
breath and coming back up.

“One more question, sweetheart.”

Kayden bit back a frustrated scream.

“What’s your safe word?”

“Diamond,” she nearly screeched and then did when he shoved
the full length of his cock inside her in one long, slippery lunge.

There was a flash of pain. Fast on its heels came a swift
tidal wave of burning pleasure, making her grateful for the strong hands at her
waist that kept her ass pinned to his pelvis and thwarted her attempt to pull
away. She’d never experienced anything like it. Not the feeling. Not the man.

She could too easily get addicted to both.

The addiction to the
feeling
wasn’t what scared the
living crap out of her.

“Stay with me, love. I’m far from done with you.”

For a paralyzed moment, she thought he could read her
thoughts. When his pumping hips fell into an easy, cadenced rhythm, she relaxed
and emptied her mind of all thoughts of permanence. Not a difficult task, since
the rhythmic in-and-out glide of his long, thick cock was pushing her rapidly
toward a long overdue orgasm.

Filled both front and back, with the only separation a thin
wall of sensitive tissue, Kayden knew blessed oblivion was just around the
corner. She closed her eyes, shutting off one of her senses to elevate the
others and better experience every facet of this first-time experience. She
wanted to remember everything, down to the tiniest detail.

The smell of their mingled arousal.

The roll of his powerful hips as his pelvis pushed off her
ass.

The way his firm stomach bumped against the base of the
plug, forcing it deeper.

The hot, glorious glide of his claiming penetration as her
pussy swelled open to welcome the lusty invasion.

At the first flutters of her impending climax, she opened
her eyes. As much as she craved the explosion, she wanted to prolong and savor
all the wonderful sensations thrumming through her body a bit longer.

Apparently, Hunter wasn’t of like mind. As if he’d known
what she was doing, he curled his body over hers, captured her clit between his
fingers and pressing his face to hers, whispered, “Come for me. Now.”

One pinch was all it took.

Her orgasm hit with the intensity of a category five
tornado. Blindsided, picked up, spun and spit back out, she was allowed
precious few moments to catch her breath inside the eye of the storm before she
was flipped onto her back and staring up into Hunter’s smiling face.

“Not bad for starters,” he said, grabbing hold of her
ankles, raising them to his shoulders and plunging into her again.

* * * * *

Cocooned in Hunter’s long wool coat, surrounded by his
masculine scent, Kayden stared sightlessly out the cab’s backseat window. She
couldn’t even remember what lie she’d fabricated for the club’s security guard
to get him to call her a taxi. She doubted he would’ve been so amenable had he
known whose bed she’d just slinked out of. Whatever the excuse was, it must
have been believable. Much more so than the lies she’d been telling herself.
The best one yet, that since she didn’t have a cowardly bone in her body, the
reason for her sneaking off in the wee hours of the morning could be laid
squarely at the feet of her stiff independence.

Stiff? Ha! It was folding like a sapling in a hurricane. No,
not folding, bending. Giving itself over to the stronger, dominant force and
loving every submissive minute of it. That was the real truth. And it was
scaring the hell out of her.

She’d awakened in the middle of the night, draped cozily
over Hunter’s large, rock-solid, warm body. More content than she’d ever felt
in her life, she was tempted to close her eyes, snuggle down and drift back
off. Mother Nature had other plans. She’d reluctantly peeled herself off Hunter
and padded from the bed in search of the bathroom.

If she hadn’t taken a good look in the mirror after washing
her hands and face, she would probably still be at Club Kimberlite.

The sight of the starry-eyed, wild-haired, sated female
reflected back would have taken her to her knees were it not for Kayden’s
tenacious grip on the marble sink. The woman she’d glimpsed had never looked
happier. A woman who’d been fucked sore, suspended from hooks in the closet
ceiling and flogged into a mind-blowing orgasm—twice, fingered in both her
pussy and ass, at times simultaneously, and commanded to her knees to suck
Hunter’s mouthwatering cock until her jaw ached. Then, and only then, allowed
to savor the taste of his tangy come.

Kayden didn’t want to know who that deranged woman was, but
whoever she was, the shameless hussy was staying back at the club and
this
woman was going home to resume her hectic, sexually deprived but safelife.

Two hours later, her flaming, tear-stained cheek mashed
against the taxi’s cool back window, Kayden was ready to kill someone. The most
likely candidate, the asshole who hadn’t properly secured the load of drywall
in the back of his pickup truck. The smashed and scattered pieces now sucking
up the winter slush in the middle of I-90. At this early hour, in any other
city, it wouldn’t have been such a major problem. But this was Chicago. Traffic
was never light.

On second thought, maybe she should be thanking the
asshole
.
He’d given her a reprieve from the submissive she-devil riding her conscience,
sabotaging every logical, mental argument Kayden had erected in her path.

Once unearthed, it wasn’t easy to ignore the truth, but if
she caved and admitted deep down that she’d always secretly yearned to be that
sexually submissive woman in the mirror, she’d then have to acknowledge the
fear that she’d just walked out on the only man she could trust with that
knowledge.

Oh God, what if— “Damn it.”

“Sorry,” the driver said, straightening from his sharp
swerve to take advantage of a miniscule opening in the faster moving lane next
to them. “You okay?”

Kayden caught the man’s concerned gaze in the mirror and
burst out in hysterical laughter.

For the rest of the way, she could’ve sworn the man drove
with one eye on the road and one in the rearview mirror. Hell, who could blame
him after her maniacal display. Her hair bed-tossed, wearing a man’s overcoat
and clutching onto her overnight bag like it contained money from a bank heist,
he probably thought she’d escaped from a mental institution.

Given all that, it was no big surprise that when they’d
arrived at her apartment building and she asked him to wait until she ran up to
get her money, he’d eyed her skeptically and shook his head.

Desperate, she’d searched Hunter’s coat, hitting pay dirt in
the inside breast pocket.

“Thanks for bring me home safely.” Freeing the wad of money
from the diamond-studded, gold money-clip, she peeled off several large bills
into the man’s pudgy walnut-toned hand. When his thick black eyebrow flew up,
she added another hundred.

What the hell, the driver had earned it, having to put up
with her lunacy. And Mr. Hotshot I-own-a-diamond-mine Trielle could well afford
it. Besides, it was his fault she found herself in this mess, both physically
and mentally.

If she hadn’t been so upset, she would’ve planned her escape
better. Money being at the top of her essentials list. She’d hold the expensive
clip and the rest of his loot hostage in exchange for her forgotten laptop.

By the time she trudged into her apartment, dropped the coat
and bag next to the bed and tumbled onto the sheets, she was more than ready to
embrace her exhaustion. There’d be plenty of time to sort through her emotional
turmoil in the lonely days ahead. Plenty of time to decide which of the two
women warring inside her would reign supreme and take her rightful place in the
world.

Chapter Ten

 

Without knocking, Simon stepped into Hunter’s office, took
one look at his friend’s appearance and laughed.

Unfazed by the glare targeting him as he strolled into the
room and plopped himself in the chair in front of the desk, he hooked his
booted foot on the opposite knee and relaxed back. “Sorry, pal. But I can’t
remember you ever looking so—”

“Disheveled,” Hunter supplied.

Simon crunched his nose. “Actually, scruffy was what I was
going for. The last time I saw you like this was after that three-week cabin
stint with that nympho sub you trained for Romeo Luigi.” Simon whistled. “I’d
have liked to have been a fly on the wall for that one.”

Hunter lips twitched. “With most women, the challenge is to
get them to leave their legs open, making them accessible to their men. With
her, it was teaching her when to keep them closed.”

“Whatever happened to her anyway?”

“Romeo married her.”

Simon sat up straighter. “No shit?”

The men shared a laugh, though Hunter sobered much faster.

“She’s really got your guts tied up in knots, doesn’t she?”

There was no reason to clarify, since they both knew it was
Kayden they were speaking of.

Blowing out a deep breath, Hunter raked his fingers through
his hair, adding little to the damage already present.

“Why don’t you just go and get her? If your instincts about
her being submissive are right—and I can’t imagine they’re wrong—she’ll obey.”

“It would work on another woman, not Kayden.”

“Why, because she’s strong, independent and bullheaded?
You’ve broken tougher.”

“I don’t want to break her. And, yes, she’s all that, but
mostly she’s afraid to face the truth. And knowing her as I do, trying to force
her to face that she was born to be a submissive will only make her deny it
more adamantly. If she’s to be my wife, she needs to come to me of her own free
will…without doubts.”

“So you’re just going to sit here in your self-imposed
misery and wait?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

“I’ve already done something. I’ve sent her a gift.”

* * * * *

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Trista asked, seated
with Morgan, Shayla, Kendra and Harley in a semicircle around Kayden’s desk.

Kayden stared down at the thin, flat box sporting a big
white bow as if it contained anthrax.

It had been two whole, long soul-searching weeks since she’d
come to work the Monday morning after escaping Hunter to find her laptop
already returned. She’d looked at it and broke down. Immediately surrounded by
her five supportive friends, she’d spent the next hour sobbing out a slightly
abridged version of why she’d walked out on her fantasy. Denied a few very
important details in relation to her true feelings, they’d unanimously
supported her decision to forget Hunter.

Until last night.

When during one of those cursed alcohol-induced roundtable
discussions, exactly like the one that had gotten her into this whole mess,
she’d confessed there was the teensiest possibility she was falling in love
with him. After a lengthy silence, she’d squinted through the martini haze
clouding her vision. When she’d finally fine-tuned all five of their shocked
expressions, she’d attempted a quick backpedal by saying, “But that’s crazy,
right? No one falls in love at first
sex
!” She’d been the only one who’d
laughed.

“Well?” Kendra prompted, tapping out a Morse code routine on
the edge of the desk with a long, glittery-red fingernail.

Resigned to the inevitable, Kayden sighed. “Okay.” She
lifted the lid off the box and stared down at the envelope. Not that there was
any doubt who’d sent it. If there had been, the bold H T next to the large
triangular diamond embossed in the left corner would have laid it to rest.
Setting the envelope aside, she extracted the black velvet box inside.

When Shayla helpfully pushed the outer box aside, Kayden set
the other in its place and opened the hinged lid.

Struck speechless by its contents, she gave the box a
half-turn so the others could see.

Comments flew in rapid succession.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I’ve never seen a red diamond before. Must be worth a small
fortune.”

“Does he have a single brother?”

“Breathtaking.”

“Are you going to keep it?”

It was the last whispered question by Morgan that drew
Kayden from her mind-spinning stupor.

“I…I think I should give it back.”

Trista folded her arms on the desk and leaned in. “Given who
the man is and what he represents, I believe your
taking
it back is the
point. I also think it’s not your everyday run-of-the-mill necklace. And I’m
not referring to the gargantuan red diamond.”

No, not a necklace, a collar. Three impressive rows of
half-inch onyx squares linked together by dozens of small, brilliant triangular
diamonds—points down to symbolize female power. Her gaze dropped to the
mind-staggering triangular red diamond, hanging off the center bottom
onyx—point up. She ran a marveling finger over the unique gem.

Having shared a good portion of her research with her
friends, she wasn’t surprised when Shayla asked, “What do you think it means?”

“You mean other than, thank you, Lord, there’s hope I won’t
have to marry a computer geek in my search for a rich husband?” Harley’s
attempt at humor earned her five sour looks, which she shrugged off.

“I think it means Hunter acknowledges and respects her
female power,” Kendra said in hushed tones.

Kayden smiled at her insightfulness. “And the lower
placement of male power signifies the female power is not subdued, but an
extension of.”

“Are you going to go back to him?” A die-hard romantic,
Shayla’s eyes glittered with hope.

“I’m not sure.” She picked up the envelope and stared down
at the lettering across the front. Not her name, but ONYX. “I’d like some time
alone to think.”

Once the others had filed out after a round of supportive
hugs, she opened and read the letter. She expected to find an explanation for
why he’d written onyx. What she found was…

Deny it all you want. Deep down, you know what you truly
are and running away won’t change the fact that you are and always will be
submissive. My submissive.

—H

* * * * *

There was no knock on his office door before it swung open,
so Hunter didn’t bother looking up from the article he was reading in the
latest issue of TLI. He didn’t even know why he was reading it. Except that he
somehow felt a connection with Kayden when he did.

“If you’ve come to gain some perverted amusement at my
expense, Simon, you can just turn your sorry ass around and head back the way
you came.” Having reached the end of the list of the ten top things women look
for in a man, Hunter snorted and flipped the page.

“Something wrong with the article?”

The soft feminine voice had his head snapping up. “Kayden?”
He drank in the sight of her. “How did you get in without—”

“Actually, Simon was on his way in, but when he found out
who I was, he convinced your assistant to let me surprise you.”

Closing the magazine and sliding it aside, Hunter hit his
intercom button. “Elizabeth.”

“Yes Sir?”

“Is Simon still there?”

“Yes Sir.”

“Then tell him not to go far. I don’t want to waste time
tracking him down when I come to kill him.”

Hunter pulled his finger off the button, cutting off a
stream of robust, male laughter.

Kayden’s lush lips turned up at the corners, eliminating all
thoughts of Simon.

“Don’t get up,” she said, forestalling his attempt to rise.
She stepped farther into the room. Focused on her cherished face, it wasn’t
until she moved that he noticed the large, cloth bag she was carrying by the
handle.

She came as far as the chair in front of his desk, stopped
and set the bag on the seat.

“Why are you here?” Hunter kept both feet planted on the
floor and his clenched hands on his thighs, resisting the unsophisticated urge
to lurch to his feet, vault over the desk and capture her in his arms.

“I’m here for a couple of reasons. I have some questions and
a few things to give back to you.”

Having a pretty good idea what one was, the hope that
bubbled up in his chest at first seeing her deflated.

She flipped her hair over her shoulder and bent over the
bag. The diamond from the earrings he’d given her winked back at him. He drew
some consolation from the fact she apparently didn’t intend to return
all
his gifts.

“Your coat.” She straightened and laid the pile of neatly
folded black wool on the corner of his desk. “I would have sent it back with
the money, but it was out being cleaned. Thank you for the prompt return of my
laptop.”

“You’re welcome. I know how lost I would feel without mine,
given the business material it contains.” Jesus, was this how it was going to
end? A string of mundane senseless bullshit and then bidding each other polite
adieu? He hoped to God not.

“Now a question,” she stated softly with a touch of
hesitancy.

If she asked if they could remain friends, Hunter knew
they’d probably be taking him out of there in a straitjacket.

“Why ONYX on the envelope instead of my name?”

Hunter very slowly expelled the breath he’d been holding. Why
tell her, when he had the gut feeling she wouldn’t be staying?He
shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not staying.” He voiced his thoughts.

She mimicked his shrug. “If I were?”

“Are you?” He cursed the acceleration of his heart.

“It depends on your answer.”

He let out an audible sigh. “Don’t toy with me, Kayden.”

“I don’t recall you having an aversion to toys.” A sly
little smile crested her lips.

Hope warred with fear, the latter a feeling he wasn’t
particularly fond of or familiar with. That went double for his floundering
emotional control. An uncomfortable, all too frequent state when it came to the
woman standing in front of him.

Determined to end this sooner than later if the only thing
she came here to do was return the collar and leave, he decided to tell her the
truth.

“I’m good at what I do because I have an instinct for
knowing what it is a woman really wants and then using that knowledge to gain
what I want. Although I’ve led many women down the road of
total
submission, it’s not the path I’d intended for the woman I plan to spend the
rest of my life with.”

The corners of her silky black eyebrows dipped and the skin
above her nose crinkled. “It’s not?”

“No. Not one hundred percent of the time. That’s why the
word
Onyx
.”

The crinkles became more pronounced.

Distracted by how adorable she looked, it took him a few
moments to regroup his thoughts. “It would work the reverse of a safe word.
Instead of freeing you from submission, it would initiate it.”

The crinkles disappeared. “So any other time, you would lead
a fairly normal life?”

The short breath he pushed from his lungs was half
self-mocking laugh. “As normal as can be expected, living with a man accustomed
to getting his way in everything.”

Her expression gave no insight into her thoughts when she
said, “Thank you for explaining that to me. I appreciate your honesty. I know
it wasn’t easy. Before I leave…there’s one more thing I need to return to you.”

The hot ball of emotion churning in his stomach since she’d
walked in began to froth. He shot a surreptitious glance at the decanter of
cognac on the wet bar to his left.

“Goodbye, Hunter,” she whispered softly and, reaching
halfway across the desk, set down the black-velvet box containing the collar.

Not a total shock. But it still hurt like hell.

When he didn’t return her goodbye, she gave a tiny,
sympathetic smile and turned.

He kept his gaze on her as she walked to the door, taking in
every miniscule detail of her unhurried steps, her alluring shape, grace of
movement, the slight sway and exact shade combination of her long, luxurious
black hair as it whispered softly across her back. All the things he intended
to cement in his memory, along with every precious moment he’d ever spent with
her. The very last thing he noticed was her small, delicate hand as she turned
the knob to let herself out.

A second before the door closed, an image flashed of him
groveling on the knees of his two-thousand-dollar Italian suit. How pitifully
ironic was it that God had graced him with the unerring ability to read women,
yet he had so misread the one he wanted most.

Weary, he let his head drop, only to have his gaze slam
against the box she’d left. Hunter reached out his hand then pulled it back.

He’d get his secretary to remove it.

He swiveled his gaze between the small black intercom unit
on his desk to the wet bar and the dark amber liquid beckoning him.

After the collar was gone from his sight, he’d work on
numbing the pain in his heart. Temporary though the oblivion may be, he sorely
needed it at the moment.

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