DevilsBoudoirSeriesSecretLove

BOOK: DevilsBoudoirSeriesSecretLove
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Devil

s Boudoir Series

Secret Love

By Robin McKnight

Published by Horny Devil Publishing

Copyright 2013 Robin McKnight

ISBN 978-1-62518-069-8

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Devil

s Boudoir Series: Secret Love Copyright © 2013 Robin McKnight Edited by Frank Lee, Cynthia Brummett-Lawyer, and Amberline Vincant

Cover art by Dee Allen (www.deeallencoverart.com) Electronic book publication

With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Horny Devil Publishing LLC, P.O. Box 2508, Palm City, FL 34991.

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic
or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright
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http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/
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author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of
the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Chapter One

Straightening the perfectly tailored lines of his suit jacket, he closed the door with a soft snick as he entered his office. Black velvet curtains covered the window, leaving only the soft glow of a few candles and lamps lighting the room. A large, dark cherry-stained, wooden desk sat in the middle of the room. Modern elegance mixed with a dark opulence defined the room
’s décor, as well as Myles’ own style
. Fabrics and tapestries carryied shades of black, white, and gray; supple leather sofas, thick, plush carpeting, polished silver candle sticks and clean lines everywhere. Running his hand through his dark hair, he walked across the room turning toward his desk. Having a muscular athletic build he took great pride in keeping up
with, his muscles were still sore from the morning’s trip to the gym, but one
would never have noticed by the graceful ease with which he moved. Taking a peek at the calendar atop his desk, he ran over the day
’s tasks in his mind
before his thoughts began to wander.

Sitting behind his desk, Myles D’Kent looked down at the picture in
his hand. Waist length red spirals draped over creamy skin, impossibly bright blue eyes sparkled with temptation and desire through the glass of the frame. Arianna Marshall had been in his life for less than six months, and she already consumed every thought, every fantasy, and every minute of every day for him. No matter how hard he tried,
he couldn’t shake her
. She was hardwired into every fiber of his being after such a short time,
and he’d
never felt anything like it.

As the city’s
best-known Dominant and the owner of the most popular BDSM club, The Iron Cuff, Myles had had his pick of women with submissive tendencies.
He’d
sampled most of them, but none of them had struck him the way Arianna had. Despite his dalliances with a number of
women, there’d been only one significant woman in his life before Arianna
. T
hat hadn’t ended well
. It was more like a colossal cluster-fuck of epic proportions. His marriage had been good at the beginning, but quickly degenerated into an emasculating mess. Myles had never thought of himself as a Dom, or even known much about the BDSM lifestyle until his marriage collapsed. No sex, no affection, no love, he was no more than a pay check and a handyman to Sheila, being walked over and constantly berated. When Sheila started sleeping with the pool boy and expected him to just accept it, Myles had had enough and filed for divorce.
Somewhere deep inside, he’d expected Sheila to chase after him, beg him not to go, but all she’d said was, “I never really loved you anyway.”

After that, Myles went looking for anything that would give him
control over his life, and by accident, he’d stumbled across BDSM through
an old friend. It gave him control and a sense of belonging in his life, and he ha
dn’t looked back since
.
He was one hell of a Dom, but he wasn’t as
skilled with matters of the heart. In fact, at the first hint of anything more than sexual gratification these days, he ran as far and as fast as he could in the other direction. For him
, dominating was about trust, but it wasn’t about
love. Love had bitten him in the ass once, and he was never going back to living that way again. So he hid behind his role as a dominant and the owner of a club, making it unbelievably clear to every woman he took to his bed that there was to be no romantic attachment. That policy had served him well for years. Until his red-haired siren stepped into the club and into his heart.

He’d known from the very second she a
ppeared in the foyer of The Iron Cuff that she was his other half; the one his hopelessly romantic mother had always told him was out there somewhere. The curve of her body, the way her hair shone in the dim candlelight of the club, every inch of her creamy, pale skin that seemed to glow had called to him. And
she’d been
dressed to kill. An unconscionably tight green corset with a black lace overlay had been laced tightly to accentuate her curves. A tiny leather mini with a slit up the thigh danced when she walked and gave just a hint of bare soft skin where panties should have been. Garters peeked from beneath the leather skirt; black, sheer, seamed tights drew attention to legs that seemed to go on for days, and longer when you noticed how she balanced atop insanely high black stilettoes.
There wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t have fallen all
over himself trying to earn her affection that night.

Despite knowing in his soul that she was his heart’s perfect match, he’d given her the same line he gave every woman who crossed the threshold
into his room

no strings attached, no romance, nothing permanent. For the first time in his life, it had hurt like a bitch to say the words, but rules were rules,
and he wouldn’t risk having something wonderful for only a short time
before it slipped away. An experienced submissive, Arianna had only
nodded with her head down that night and whispered, “Yes, S
ir. If that is your command, then that is how it shall be, and I will take only as much as
you give and be satisfied.”

God, he could still hear the words in his head crystal clear and remembered
how much in that very moment he’d wanted to give her the
world.
Instead, he’d given her one night, the next, and the next
. But
he’d
never given her more than what her body needed,
and he’d certainly never
given her his heart.
No, that he didn’t have to give
.
She’d stolen it the
moment he saw her, and he knew
he’d never get it back
. Six months later,
he’d still never told her how he felt
,
and although he’d managed to remain
wonderful friends with the subs before her, when Arianna left his bed for that of another, he would never be the same. Friendship would be out of the question. He realized that first night why his first marriage had fallen apart.
Sheila wasn’t meant to be his, but Arianna was
. Arianna seemed to be perfectly content with the status of their relationship, whatever it was, and he had no need to rock the boat and risk her leaving one minute too soon.
Never once had she asked him for more, and she’d never hinted that she felt
about him the way he felt for her. So, they continued each night the way they always had;
the way he’d convinced
himself it needed to be. Dominating and submitting physically, but never more than that. The only
problem was it wasn’t enough for Myles anymore
.
He’d broken his own rule
and fallen in love with her; he was way in over his head. What he was going to do about it, though, he had no idea.

Soft knocking at the door derailed his train of thought as he looked up toward the double mahogany doors that entered into his office suite.

“Myles
? This came for you.
It was delivered to the bar upstairs.” A
small, sprite-like woman with brown hair in a bouncy ponytail and deep brown eyes entered his room and practically skipped to his desk. Molly was
the only really good thing he’d ever done
. A dear friend, but also his bar manager for the club. She was barely
into her twenties when he’d found her
on the street corner selling her body to feed her little brother after their
mother’s sudden death
. Molly reminded him more of a kid sister than anything else,
and he’d never questioned his decision to take them both
in. Rylie was only ten, a big burden for Molly, but she bore it with grace and took very good care of him. Myles gave her a job managing his bar, helped her get custody of Rylie, and rented them an apartment until Molly could get on her feet. They were family, and since he never intended to fall in love again or start a family of his own, they were the only one he would ever have.

“Thanks
, Molly. Can we push the business meeting back an hour today?
I’ve got to get some things taken care o
f before I can look at numbers.

The brown-eyed little sister he never had nodded, but the look on her face gave away the fact that she suspected there was more to it than he was just busy. For such a young girl, she had a good head on her shoulders and could always read people, even when they tried to hide something. Closing his eyes, scrubbing a tough hand over his face, he looked back at the picture on his desk and traced the outline of the woman there; remembering the way her body felt in his hands like it was made just for him and no one else. Shaking himself, he set the picture in a drawer as if it would do any good to hide it. She was part of him, had been from the beginning, maybe even since before either of them were born, but if he kept obsessing over the
way he felt about her, he’d make an ass of himself when she came by the
club. Besides, the beautifully assembled envelope in front of him required his immediate attention. Pulling on a gold satin ribbon, the black envelope fell open. Inside was a stunning, gold-filigree embossed card that made him grin from ear to ear.

Mr. Evan Daniels and Miss Rissa Trent humbly request your presence at their collaring ceremony and wedding this weekend. The wedding to be held at St.
Anne’s Cathedral at two o’clock in the afternoon
on Saturday, followed by a come-and-go reception in the church fellowship hall.
The collaring ceremony will be held at ten o’clock in the evening at The Devil’s Boudoir
. Please RSVP as soon as possible to confirm your attendance, and please be sure to include the name of your plus one.


Well, well, well
, looks like lil’ Reeses is doing just fine.”
Myles had been the one to bring Rissa into the world of BDSM and initially introduced her to Evan. To see the two of them now collared and married
would be something he wouldn’t miss for the world
. Aside from Rylie and Molly, there were no two other people he cared more for in this world than Rissa and Evan. Except Arianna. His eyes drifted to the bottom of the card. Plus one.
It’d been so long since he had a plus one, and while he desperately
ached to have Arianna at his side, a collaring was incredibly emotional to
witness and couldn’t be experienced with just anybody
. Then again, Arianna
wasn’t just anybody, no matter how hard
he tried to convince himself that she was.

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