Club Helix: The Power Games (9 page)

I dip in and out, watching her fight to keep her hips still as I drive her higher and higher. She has a death grip on the edge of the desk now, and her whole body jerks as I pull out and press against the small nub.

“Oh God, oh God, oh God.”

I press again, savoring her little whimpers of need. I can tell she’s getting close, and just as her body starts to stiffen, I stop.

“What the…?” she gasps, her breath coming in short pants.

“There’s only one person who can give you what you need, what you crave right now,” I croon, my breath caressing her ear. “Do you know who that is?”

She doesn’t answer. I brush her clit lightly, and another whimper escapes from her lips. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s not Emmett.”

I sink back into her, curling my finger so it presses against her G-spot for the briefest second before I stop, completely motionless, my finger still buried inside her. “Who do you belong to? Who gives you your pleasure? Say it!” I demand.

“You.” It’s an exhalation, resignation coupled with breathy desire.

“Say it again.”

“I belong to you.” It’s louder this time, stronger.

I plunge into her forcefully, pressing against her G-spot as I pinch her clit, and she comes with a cry, her muscles spasming around me. I haul her up off the desk and into my arms.

“You sadistic bastard! Are you satisfied?” she demands, trying to push me away. Her eyes are glittering with anger. “Do you get off on humiliating me and hurting me and then making me come?” If she’s trying to shame me for the fact that my cock is throbbing from me punishing her, she has a lot to learn. You can’t shame the devil.

“Yes,” I growl, threading my fingers into her hair and yanking her head back until she’s looking into my eyes. I want her to see exactly what I am. “It makes me hard to see you squirm. You’d do well to remember that. I’m not Emmett. I’m not sweet or comforting, and I’m not going to give in to whatever you want. I’m your Dom, and I’ll take what I want from you and give you what you need in return, whether that’s punishment or pleasure or both.”

She gasps as I let her go.

“Now go to sleep,” I say, turning away from her quivering body before I throw her on the bed and fuck her until she’s incoherent, the papers be damned. I grab my jacket and turn back to her. “I have to work in the morning, but I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon for the photo shoot. You may do what you wish until then. But you may not touch yourself without permission. Ever. Do you understand?”

She nods mutely as I flip off the cameras and let myself out of the suite. I need a drink and some space from this woman who has invaded my senses and ignited the darkness in me.

Chapter Seven

Ava

If I thought Roman was intimidating when I first met him, Roman angry is downright terrifying. I wasn’t really scared at first when he dragged me back to the hotel room like a caveman. Apprehensive? Hell, yes! Turned on? Outrageously, despite the fact that I knew I definitely shouldn’t be. But not afraid; I knew from what I’d seen so far of Roman that he’s in complete control of everything in his life, including himself.

But when he’d held me down on the desk, his belt in his hand, and his hard cock grinding into me…that had been another story. Fear had licked through me, but that powerful and incongruous arousal had intensified, despite my fear or maybe because of it. There’s a potent sexual attraction between us that seems to make me forget all sense of self-preservation, all sense of everything but being close to him. His effect on me is as visceral as it is confusing.

And when that belt had come down on my butt, I hadn’t felt fragile or weak. In that moment, I wasn’t my mother’s daughter. I was strong. Strong enough to handle Roman’s punishment, if only because he thought I could.

But I hate him for getting off on punishing me, almost as much I hate him for making me want his touch anyway. Afterward, he’d made me come harder than I’ve ever imagined, and my few attempts to bring myself to orgasm look like child’s play in comparison. What kind of girl lets a man whip her with a belt and then give her the biggest orgasm of her life? I sigh. The kind who’s agreed to pretend to be a submissive on a kinky reality show.

I’d expected him to want something in return—the thick hardness of him pressing against me had made it apparent he was turned on—but instead he’d just left. I’m horrified that I feel a little jealous at the thought of him seeking his release with someone else.

He’d returned to the suite sometime after midnight, waking me up and hauling me out of bed to tug off the nightshirt I was wearing.

 “I thought I told you not to wear this anymore,”
he’d growled.

 “I don’t have anything else,”
I protested.

 “Then sleep in nothing,”
he’d said tersely, tossing the shirt into the trash can.

But his words had lacked any real bite, and after I’d climbed back into bed without anything on but my underwear, he’d pulled me to him, my back tucked against his hard, smooth chest. He’d held me close as he fell asleep, his breath turning slow and even. I, on the other hand, had lain awake, hyperaware of his solid, warm, almost naked body curled around mine as the memory of the unfamiliar desires he’d aroused in me earlier haunted me.

Because God help me, he had made me feel again! Fear, pain, arousal, lust—emotions I hadn’t allowed myself to feel in two years had swirled through me unchecked. Two years of not feeling anything, and after one day with this mysterious, dominant man, I was gobsmacked.

He’s gone again when I wake up, and I shower and dress before heading downstairs to eat breakfast and look for Emmett. I need to talk to him, and now is the perfect time to do it with Roman gone for the morning. Unfortunately, Emmett’s not in the dining room, but I’m happy to find Tessa and Luke there. After filling my plate from the overladen buffet, I slide into the seat next to Tessa. Belatedly, I remember I’m supposed to be submissive, whatever the hell that means.

“Can I sit here?” I ask Luke. “Or is that not allowed?”

He smiles at me and winks. “I’m not your Dom, so you don’t need my permission. Tessa, on the other hand…” He tugs her hair, and she looks up at him worshipfully. They are beyond adorable, even if I don’t completely get it. What I do get is that he makes her happy, and that’s all that counts.

“Where’s your Dom?” Luke asks, turning back to me. “His name is Roman, right?”

I nod. “He had to work this morning. He runs his own company, so I guess he couldn’t just take off for six weeks. I’m headed to the gym later this morning. The food here is unbelievable, but if I’m not careful, I’m going to leave here twenty pounds heavier. You want to join me?” I ask Tessa.

Although I’ve seen her since the auction, we haven’t had a chance to really talk, and I’ve kind of missed her. Plus, it would be nice to talk to someone else who’s going through all this the same as me, just to know if I’m crazy to be turned on by a man who whips me with a belt and then makes me come like a freight train.

She looks at Luke for permission, and he nods. “Of course. You need to keep up your stamina.” He gives her a lustful look, and she blushes.

“Let’s meet there in an hour,” she suggests.

“Sounds good. Hey, have either of you seen Emmett today? I need to talk to him.”

“I saw him in the gym on my way here,” Luke volunteers.

“Really? Great. I’ve got to catch him. See you in a bit, Tessa.”

I scoot out of my chair and practically sprint to the gym, hoping to catch Emmett before he leaves. Luckily, he’s still running on the treadmill, wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts, his bare chest and sculpted abs glistening with sweat.

“Ava!” He turns off the treadmill when he sees me, grabbing a towel as he walks over to me. “Are you really okay?” He grabs my chin and tilts my face up, searching my eyes for who knows what.

“I’m fine,” I assure him, taking a step back and looking guiltily around the gym. There’s no point in taunting Roman with my friendship with Emmett, even if I can’t explain it to him. There’s another couple on the weight machines, but they seem too wrapped up in each other to notice Emmett and me.

“Where’s your sub? What’s her name?”

“Rebecca. She’s still asleep. I wore her out last night.” He grins lasciviously at me, and I roll my eyes.

“TMI.”

He laughs. “God, it’s good to see you. I’ve been worried about you.”

“No need. I’m fine.” I take one look at his dubious expression and put my hand on his arm. “I promise!”

“I hate that I let you down at the auction.” His beautiful, familiar face is twisted with guilt.

“You didn’t let me down!” I protest. “I didn’t want you to bid on me.”

“But you’re completely unused to this. It was one thing when we thought you’d be paired with me. You didn’t bargain for being with someone else. And to end up with Roman as your Dom!” He rakes a hand over his face. “Christ! He’s a hardcore Dom, Ava. The real deal. And he was the only one who could have outbid me. He won every competition except the viewer’s choice, so he had more points than anyone else.”

Of course he did. “He could have bought any of the subs, and he bought me?” For some reason, the thought gives me a strange thrill. But it doesn’t make sense. “Why me?”

“Because you’re beautiful and smart and amazing,” Emmett says sincerely.

“Thank you, but you know what I mean. I’m not submissive. I don’t even know how to be a sub!”

“You’re doing a pretty good job of acting like it,” he admits. “I’d buy it if I didn’t know better. How’s it going? He hasn’t hurt you, has he?” His eyes harden.

Oh, Roman had hurt me all right, but just like he’d promised at dinner, I’d wanted him to, even if I didn’t beg for it. But I’m not about to try to explain that to Emmett when I don’t understand it myself.

“No. He’s intense, but I can handle it. He thinks we can win, and I almost believe him. He’s very convincing,” I add drily. I glance up at Emmett. “I really don’t want to win first place—that’s for you—but the longer I stay on the show, the longer I make Anthony squirm, and the more likely I am to cost him the presidency. And I wouldn’t mind walking away with half a million dollars.”

“Be careful, Ava,” Emmett warns, his brows furrowed. “I don’t trust Roman.”

“I’ll be fine,” I assure him.

He glances at the clock on the wall. “I’d better go. Rebecca’s photo shoot is in thirty minutes. I’m in room five forty-three if you need anything. I mean it, Ava. I’m here if you need anything.”

My conversation with Emmett leaves me confused. I should be upset that Emmett wasn’t able to buy me at the auction, but instead I’m curious about the pain and pleasure Roman seems to be able to coax from me, and I find myself looking forward to seeing him this afternoon. After Emmett leaves, I run on the treadmill, pushing myself to go farther and faster than I’ve ever run before. By the time Tessa shows up, I’ve logged in five miles, and my head feels a little clearer.

She’s barely through the door before the torrent of words starts flowing. “I can’t believe the scary Dom from the pool bought you! I think I would die. Is he as intimidating as he seems?”

I think back to last night and the look in Roman’s eyes when he ordered me over the desk. “Um, yeah,” I say honestly. I don’t add that the pure masculine arrogance that makes him so intimidating is also a complete turn-on.

“And what about your gorgeous Dom, Emmett? How could they split you guys up?” Her voice is filled with righteous indignation.

I shrug. “They thought it would be better for the show for all of the couples to be on even footing.” She looks so heartbroken for me that I add, “It’s okay. We’re actually not, you know, together like that.”

He eyes widen with shock. For a brief moment, I almost blurt out everything—that Emmett’s not my Dom, that I’m not really submissive at all, and that I’m only here because Emmett talked me into it and I saw the perfect chance to ruin my stepfather—but it feels nice to have a friend, and I don’t want to take the chance on losing her friendship. I want to pretend for a little while that I’m just like everyone else here. Normal. Kinky, perhaps, but not damaged.

“We have more of a friendly arrangement,” I say instead.

“If you say so,” she says dubiously.

“So what about you and Luke?” I ask quickly, eager to change the subject.

She smiles with satisfaction. “Being a submissive, his submissive, is everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Let’s just say I feel well used, and in the best possible way.”

Is everyone in the hotel fucking like bunnies except for me and Roman? The thought sends a stab of unease through me. He’s a gorgeous god of a man who could have any woman he wants. Who knows why he chose me, but I doubt he’s going to be willing to continue to be my Dom in the games for long once he realizes intercourse is a hard limit of mine. I push the thought aside. I have to stay in the moment and do the best I can. I hate Anthony with every ounce of my being, and I’d do almost anything to get even with him, but my stepfather has already stolen my soul. He doesn’t get my virginity.

“When’s your photo shoot?” I ask Tessa as we move to the weight machines.

“Two. What about you?”

“Four.”

She grimaces as she does a shoulder press and then stops. “Does it bother you that naked photos of you might be everywhere? The show is one thing. It’s pay-per-view, and while there may be a lot of people who see you, it’s not like it’s the whole world. I mean, my grandma’s not likely to subscribe to the show. The photos are different. If they use them to promote the hotel, everyone will see them!”

I think of Anthony trying to explain his stepdaughter’s nude photos on the campaign trail.

“Exactly!” I say with a grin. “I think it’s great.”

“I knew it,” she crows. “You’re a model!”

I just smile. I’ll be whatever I have to be to take down Anthony Sanderson.

* * * *

At four o’clock, after I’ve spent an hour having my hair and makeup professionally done, including the application of some fake lashes that make my eyes look huge and sultry, I tentatively knock at the door of the suite where the boudoir photos are supposed to be taken. There’s a muffled “Come in,” so I turn the knob and let myself in. Roman is already there, sitting on one of the sofas, and he stands as I walk in. Although he’s wearing a button-down shirt, the sleeves are rolled up, and my breath catches at the sight of his tanned, muscular arms. There may be nothing sexier than a man in rolled-up shirtsleeves.