Diablo Blanco Club: Unfair Advantage (22 page)

Read Diablo Blanco Club: Unfair Advantage Online

Authors: Qwillia Rain

Tags: #BDSM Erotic Contemporary

BOOK: Diablo Blanco Club: Unfair Advantage
6.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

A master controls no one if he cannot control himself
. The phrase ran through his mind, recalling him to his determination for absolute control. He needed to maintain the necessary barrier between his emotions and the women in his life. Mattie would be no different. He would make sure she wasn’t.

Blinking, he refocused on the woman he’d exchanged vows with. She belonged to him. Despite her not having said the words, he knew her feelings for him, and he’d be damned if he let her five-year plan take her away from him. No, she’d trusted him to lead her body into pleasures she’d only read about. He wasn’t about to let her get away after having waited eight years to have her. As underhanded and devious as it might seem, his action would force one of the boundaries she’d tried to establish, and he decided as he silently set her shoes on a chair beside the door and entered the room, no matter what it took, he’d make sure she never left him.

 

“Well?” Mattie heard the deep Southern drawl of her husband as she stood before the life-size canvas.

Refusing to turn, she shrugged. “What do you want me to say?” She swallowed to clear the obstruction that made her voice sound like the croak of a sick frog.

The sound of the door closing and his steps as he crossed the room to her side had her heart hammering so hard, she wondered if it would break through her chest.

“The truth.” Bryce’s voice whispered past her ear as he moved behind her, eyeing the painting over her head.

She could hear the grin in his voice.
You don’t want the truth
, Mattie thought to herself as she fought the fire in her belly while examining the artwork. Each powerful brushstroke was evident in the rich earth tones, gold and brown, that accented the subject. The broad canvas, framed with tightly braided strips of supple black leather, stirred her in ways she didn’t want to examine. More than any of the things she’d done with Bryce during the week of her testing, this painting frightened her.

It was the focus that caused her heart to stop, then lurch into rapid palpitations at the same time she felt her breasts swell, her nipples peak, and her pussy grow damp as she gazed upon the image of two men entwined around a single woman. The graphic depiction of a ménage wasn’t what created the sudden fear and anticipation that flooded Mattie’s system. It was the uncanny resemblance the three people in the painting bore to her, Bryce, and Richard.

The woman’s hands were bound over her head with a loop painted and attached to the leather framing the canvas and her face turned away from the viewer. The cascade of thick brown curls caught in the tight fist of the man sinking his cock into the woman’s ass were similar to the curls she’d just tugged a brush through a few minutes earlier.

The faces of both men were also turned away, with the one in front suckling a breast as he fucked her, while the one behind buried his face in the curls at the woman’s nape. The color of their hair was similar to the white blond shoulder-length waves Bryce sported and the mink brown curls Richard kept tamed by cropping them close to his head.

“Lawrence?”

Bryce’s voice drew Mattie from the fantasy induced by the image before her. “Yes…well,” she stammered, then cleared her throat. She pretended disinterest as she turned away from the painting. “It’s…nice.” Her nerves had her twisting the wedding and engagement rings on her finger, still not used the weight of the thick platinum bands. She moved toward one of the French doors, wondering if there was a staircase leading down from the widow’s walk that she might use to escape.

Bryce’s chuckle whispered through the quiet room. He seemed to read her discomfort and moved closer as Mattie watched him over her shoulder. The distance to the door was short, but she knew there was no way she’d make it past him.

Why she would be so frightened she didn’t know. In the eight years they’d worked together he’d never once hurt her physically. And the week he’d spent reassuring her that any punishments he meted out she could handle had only proven that the pain he inflicted was more as a stimulant to pleasure than as a means to do harm.

Resolved to overcome this irrational fear, Mattie settled her hands at her waist and turned fully to face him, her mien of bravado firmly in place. If she was going to survive in this marriage, she would have to make it clear that submitting to him sexually was one thing, but knuckling under to his Dominant nature was quite another.

“What else do you want me to tell you, Bryce? That the painting is erotic and a little startling?” She watched him move closer and she took an involuntary step to the side, coming up against one of the posts of the bed. Reaching out, she held the smooth column and waited.

“It is…nice.” His voice dropped to a sexy purr. “But, Lawrence, does it make you wet?”

Chocolate brown clashed with ice green for several breathless seconds before Mattie turned away without replying. Her hands gripped the post, and her damp forehead pressed into the cool wood as she fought the arousal his words and the painting stirred. Yes, she was wet, and she knew he wanted her that way, but was it because he felt something for her or because he found it arousing to control her passion? The questions were getting harder to answer, not easier.

The stroke of his hand along the side of her throat didn’t help her concentration either. The brush of his lips against her neck as he eased her hair over her shoulder, exposing the back of her gown, had her knuckles going white.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he asked, his hands sliding over the ivory silk brocade to the twin pearls holding the Mandarin collar closed.

“Yes.” Her breath hitched, then shuddered out of her lungs as the pearls were slipped free. The collar eased open as the callused tips of his fingers traced the narrow triangles of silk securing her long, tight sleeves to the bodice of her gown, while leaving her back bare from shoulder blades to the dimples above her bottom. Only the eight strands of pearls offered any covering as they draped the back of her dress from one side to the other.

“Your sister created the illusion of innocence while acknowledging the siren’s power of seduction.” His body pressed close. His fingertips drifted across the ropes of pearls, finding the hidden hooks and slipping them free.

Watching him from over her shoulder, Mattie marveled at the heat darkening his eyes as they rose to meet hers. The last and longest strand of pearls pooled in the draped cloth at the base of her spine. The clear plastic bands that had helped to secure the dress snug against her torso had been attached to the same hooks as the pearls. With the loosening of each, only the pressure of the post kept the gown from slipping.

“Now this”—Bryce’s fingers pulled aside the last rope and skimmed the silk just beneath the dimples above her bottom—“has tempted me all afternoon.”

“How?” The throaty whisper surprised Mattie. Her cheek resting against the post, she gasped at the heat in his emerald gaze as his eyes met hers.

His lips brushed hers as his hands moved up her spine and then slid beneath the loosened silk to stroke her swollen breasts. “Because it’s had me wondering, if I bent you over, would it let me have access to your sweet ass without ripping the dress.”

Chapter Thirteen

 

Her gasp was silenced beneath his kiss. The flavor of her arousal mingled with the taste of white chocolate and whipped cream. He hadn’t exaggerated. The little drapery of silk had teased and taunted him during the hours they entertained their guests. It also had him wondering if his warning about her undergarments had gone unheeded.

“Tell me, Lawrence,” he whispered, his fingers plucking and fondling the taut crests of her breasts. “Are you wearing anything under this dress?”

Her hands had released the post, one covering the silk over his own hand at her breast, while the other clutched at his waist. She pulled him close, her ass squirming against the ridge of his cock, held secured behind the placket of his trousers.

When she didn’t answer, Bryce stepped back enough to turn her in his arms. The sleeves of her dress were smoothed away and the gown slid to her waist before she made an attempt to stop it. “Hmmm? Are you trying to hide the fact that you didn’t listen to my instructions?” he teased, moving away to shed his tuxedo jacket and drape it over the chaise nearby. His bow tie, cummerbund, and shirt followed. Discarding his shoes and socks required he sit down and untie them, but his eyes never left her.

The glow of her skin in the pale lamplight made his cock ache even more. Her breasts trembled with her erratic breathing, the strawberry red peaks hard. Tiny white teeth nibbled at her lips, making him recall the light scrape of them the first time she took his shaft in her mouth. Another pulse thrummed through his rigid flesh. “Show me.” The command whispered across the room. “Have you earned a punishment, baby, for not following my directions?”

“No,” she finally answered, releasing the hold she had on the gown and allowing it to pool around her feet.

She hadn’t disobeyed him. Ivory stockings sheathed her legs to midthigh, and the tiniest scrap of silk covered her bare mound with a thin strip wrapped around her hips keeping it in place.

“Very good.” He praised her, enjoying the flush that crept over her breasts and into her cheeks as he watched her. “Bring me your dress. We don’t want it ruined.”

After stepping out of the gown, Mattie bent to retrieve it. The sway of her breasts and the way her hair flowed over one shoulder, hiding, then revealing one globe, gave him visions of that hair drifting down his body. Bryce imagined the tangled curls would feel like raw silk if he wrapped them around his cock. He’d have to see later.

He watched her cross the room, her fingers rehooking the pearl ropes before carefully folding the gown. She held it out as she stood before him, but Bryce shook his head. “Set it here.” He patted the worn velvet to his left. His other hand rose to caress the side of one breast, thumb coasting over and around the tight peak before smoothing down to her narrow waist and then farther to her full hips.

It required her to lean across him to access the section of chaise, but she didn’t argue or protest. Bent at the waist, Mattie reached to set the dress where he directed. Only his quick shift to grasp her waist kept her from toppling over when his mouth opened on her breast and his teeth nipped at the swollen nipple. When she would have settled onto his lap, he released her flesh and turned her to face away from him.

“Not yet, Lawrence.” He noted the husky tone of his voice and slight tremor in his hands as he rose to stand behind her.

Focusing on the tiny bow fastening the bit of silk at Mattie’s waist, he tugged it open and quickly slipped her panties off, tossing them onto the folded gown. “Bed.”

Mattie gazed over her shoulder at him. “I’m not going downstairs…”

Dipping his head, he kissed her, enjoying again the taste of chocolate, whipped cream, and her. “No.” He nodded toward the one across the room. “That bed.” As she moved away from him, her steps unsteady, he added, “We’ll get to the one in our bedroom later.”

The sight of her full curves had his cock straining for release, but he tempered his need. As with every other lesson he’d taught her, he’d slowly been accustoming her to identifying what pleased her most. Even with the report from David still in the back of his mind, Bryce had no intention of going easy. At no time during his lessons had his woman balked at his methods. He wasn’t about to slow down now.

She waited for him, legs curled to the side, eyes on him, hands in her lap, the pillows a soft mountain behind her. The ivory stockings blended with the sheets beneath her, but the golden tone of her skin, the aroused flush in her cheeks and breasts, the tight berry-colored nipples made his fingers itch to explore every detail. Maybe, when he’d sated his need, he’d get around to having her pose for him, but he doubted he’d be able to concentrate on putting charcoal to paper when she looked as she did now.

“Spread your legs for me, baby, and lean back against the pillows.” Moving forward, Bryce rested his shoulder on the post at the foot of the bed, watching as Mattie followed his instructions and adjusted her position on the bed.

One hand tucked into his pocket, he smoothed his fingers over the perforated edges of the packaged condoms he’d gathered from his room before he’d gone looking for his wife.
His wife
. The words whispered through his mind as he stared at the woman in front of him. Remembering the vow he’d made at his mother’s and stepmother’s graves, to never love a woman that much again, he had to admit he’d allowed his attraction to Mattie to sway him more than he’d planned.

“Did you enjoy yourself today?” He kept his tone casual, but he was sure the heat of his arousal was evident in his eyes as his gaze lingered on the parts of her body he intended to investigate the longest. The sharp foil edges gouged his hand before he forced himself to relax his grip on the prophylactics.

“Yes.” She nodded, her breath hitching as she leaned back on her elbows.

As he watched, her nipples hardened, her legs eased farther open, and her heels dug into the bedding as her hips rocked upward, allowing the moisture coating her plump folds to glisten in the muted light.

Moving his other hand from his waist to stroke down over his erection, Bryce teased her with his smile before pulling the condoms from his pocket and tossing them onto the bed near her feet. With her eyes focused on the six black-foil packets, he shed his trousers and underwear, tossed them onto the nearby chair, and climbed onto the bed. When she would have moved forward and reached for him, he shook his head and ordered, “No, baby. Stay right where you are.”

Situating himself directly in front of her, he slid his legs beneath hers so her knees rested over his thighs. The condoms were collected into a small pile, and all but one were set on her quivering stomach. “Tuck these under one of the pillows.”

As she shifted to do so, he smoothed his right hand along her leg from ankle to knee, enjoying the heat of her skin through the soft silk. “These are very pretty. But we need to take them off before they get damaged.”

Other books

Joan Wolf by The Scottish Lord
Claws! by R. L. Stine
Green Grass by Raffaella Barker
Detroit: An American Autopsy by Leduff, Charlie
Bang Bang Bang by Stella Feehily
Drive by Wolf by Jordyn Tracey