The Club Sin Series 4-Book Bundle (73 page)

A soft knock sounded on the door and Elliott slid out of bed, glancing to Mary lying in the bed. She was tranquil, breathing deeply. It'd been ten hours since she'd drifted away, and two hours since he had woken. He had watched her sleep, wondering if maybe she hadn't slept that well in a long time. No lover had ever relaxed so peacefully in his presence.

Warmth slid into his veins and his smile felt good.

Last night, when he heard of Mary's pain, his heart reached for her. It was clear from the second she mentioned her husband that his death had devastated her, and even more apparent that she hadn't completely moved on yet. Though, from her heated reactions to Elliott, he understood that deep down she wanted to, but she simply didn't know how.

With a final look at her, seeing her dark hair curtaining her face, he turned away. He fought the urge to stay right there with her while he entered the living room, finding it empty of last night's guests, as he expected. Being so late in the morning, Elliott assumed most had gone home, or possibly were in another hotel room.

Another knock sounded at the door before he opened it. The young server greeted him with a smile. “Your breakfast, sir.”

“Please come in,” Elliott replied quietly, so as not to wake Mary. Once the server pushed the cart into the room, Elliott grabbed his wallet from the back pocket of his slacks and took out a bill, then handed it to the waiter. The young man looked at the money with obvious gratitude. “Have a wonderful day, sir.” He turned on his heels and shut the door behind him.

Elliott took the lid off the tray, finding everything he had ordered—all types of berries and warmed croissants, along with two fresh cups of coffee. He placed the cover on the piano, then pushed the cart into the bedroom and noticed Mary awake and smiling at him.

“Good morning,” he said, settling the cart next to the bed.

“Morning,” she said, a little groggily. “I slept awhile, didn't I.”

He gazed over her face, seeing that the makeup she had worn was smudged under her eyes and her hair was disheveled. He couldn't hold back his smile, he liked her a little messy. “A good twelve hours, I would say.”

“Wow.” She sat up, her corset still firmly in place. “I haven't done that in years.” Her smile came quick and full of wit. “Must have had something to do with a Dom, a flogger, and an orgasm.”

He chuckled. Though what he liked most was that she hadn't attempted to fix her hair or makeup, either. She was okay with herself, done up or messy. That confidence was attractive. “Lovely compliments from a pretty mouth.” He winked at her pinkened cheeks. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded.

“How do you take your coffee?”

“One sugar.”

“Strong, but a little sweet,” he murmured, adding the sugar to her mug. “Much like yourself, darlin'.” He glanced up, noted her blush deepening, and his returning smile was instant.

She accepted the mug from him, took a sip, and smiled. “Perfect. Thank you.”

“You're quite welcome.” He joined her on the bed and reached for one of the strawberries, then placed it in front of her mouth. “Open up, darlin'.” She frowned at him, but her hesitation didn't deter him.

Last night she had told him she had been the one to take care of many people, always caring for others before herself. Elliott thought that quite possibly Mary was the one who needed to be taken care of. Maybe she forgot how good it felt to be cared for. How, as a Dom, he enjoyed pampering a woman in his care. That together they could take care of each other. He assumed that Mary had gotten accustomed to becoming second, and even more so, not thinking it a requirement that she should be put first.

Something he thought needed to change now.

After a long play-for-power moment blazed between them, she finally took a bite of the strawberry. She also didn't take her eyes off him as she chewed. Elliott regarded her, realizing how different Mary was than he'd first assumed.

He had figured he would be playing with an experienced submissive. While Mary did have experience and showed signs of that, it was almost as if he were playing with someone new to the lifestyle. She had to learn to trust all over again, and within that trust, she would find peace to offer her submission.

He enjoyed the challenge she offered. In fact, he found himself wanting to keep her with him for as long as she'd allow. Something about her being with him felt great.
Really great.

Once she swallowed, he asked, “Good?”

“Delicious,” she replied with a soft smile.

He finished the strawberry and then grabbed the croissant, breaking a piece off and feeding it to her. This time she didn't pause, and ate the croissant without fuss. When she stopped chewing, she took a sip of her coffee, and he asked, “Did you have any plans for today?”

She lowered her mug to her lap. “No.” Then her eyes widened, as she must've realized she answered too quickly.

“I'm glad.” He smirked. “No plans means that you have no reason not to spend the remainder of the weekend with me.”

She hesitated, her brows furrowed. “You do realize that I never agreed to a weekend play party.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, picking up a raspberry and feeding her. “But you did agree to stay with me until I released you.” He mirrored her pause, holding her firm stare. “Did you forget agreeing to that?”

“No, I remember,” she replied, chewing. “But—”

He leaned forward and pressed his finger against her lips. “Mary, for once let someone take care of you. Just enjoy this. I'm not asking for anything other than for you to stay with me and do exactly what we are doing now.”

His body heated at the hitch of her breath. He brought his face close to hers, knowing how his closeness affected her. As he watched her pupils dilate, he added, “Besides, it might be wise to remember that while you came last night, I did not. Do you really believe I would let you leave me with a hard cock that has been tormenting me since you walked into the room?”

She held his stare, then looked at her coffee mug. “No, of course not.”

He grabbed a blueberry before he tucked his finger under her chin, drawing her focus. Then he slid the berry across her lips until she parted them and sucked it, and his finger, into her mouth. “That's right, darlin'. Stop thinking. Relax.”

She chewed and finally asked, “Only for the weekend?”

Tough cookie to crack,
he thought. “Yes, Mary,
for now,
it's only for the weekend.”

Her eyes narrowed just a little, and he smiled, rather enjoying the fire burning in their depths. She could argue. She could push against his will. She would also never win. After another long stare-down, she asked, “That's a play on words, don't you think?”

He barked a laugh, feeding her another blueberry. “Yes, darlin', it certainly is.”

Later that night, Mary groaned as Elliott massaged the arch of her foot. The day had drifted by slowly, and an ease had settled into her in the early afternoon. Not a single word had been spoken since Elliott picked up her left foot, and by the time he moved to the other, her moans became a familiar noise in the quiet room. She'd had massages at the spa, but there was a difference between her female masseuse rubbing her feet and Elliott's strong hands stroking her.

Under his knowledgeable ministrations, all of the tension invading her body vanished. When he rubbed the ball of her foot with firm knuckles, she opened her eyes and his chocolaty warm gaze held hers
.
She thought back to what he had said to her,
respect goes far with me.
She wanted him to experience her appreciation, not so much because she thought she owed it to him, but because pleasing others and making them feel good fed her soul.

Those traits made her a submissive. And Elliott was a worthy Dom. What he'd done for her since she'd met him was bring quiet to her mind. More than anything, he reminded her of the woman she used to be.

Elliott had honor. That was to be respected. He showed kindness when he didn't need to. He was a man who kept true to his word, and a man who had simply taken care of her since she met him. As well as the reason she felt as serene as she did now.

She pulled her foot away from his hand, and Elliott lifted his head. His mouth was parted, his eyelids were lowered, he was seemingly as relaxed as she, maybe even a little sleepy. What he had told her echoed in her ears,
“Do you really believe I would let you leave me with a hard cock that
has been tormenting me
since you walked into the room?”

A statement somewhat made in jest, she was sure, but one she hadn't forgotten. Moving toward him, she went onto her knees only to see the bulge in his pants. His low chuckle brushed across her, bringing forth a shiver.

She lifted her head to him as he murmured, “Ah, darlin'. You want my cock, do you?”

“I certainly do, sir,” she replied easily.

His dark eyes held hers. “Why?”

“Gratitude, sir.”

An unreadable emotion crossed his face, and she wondered if maybe she had disappointed him with her answer. Perhaps he would've preferred her to say,
I want you.
While she was sexually attracted to Elliott, and even felt a powerful connection to him, her heart would always belong to Charles.

Her submission was
his.

That would never change.

She also wanted to give something back to Elliott—maybe not all of herself, but at least the most that she could give. And who was she kidding, she was going to enjoy this, too—it had been a long time since she'd had a man's penis in her mouth.

Elliott moved off the bed and began to unbuckle his belt. She took the moment to admire his squared chest and the slight definition of his abdomen. Slowly, almost teasingly, he removed his pants and boxer briefs.

When his cock sprang free, Mary couldn't look away. He was much bigger than she expected by feeling him on the outside of his pants. Long and thick, his penis was beautiful. As he returned to the bed and sat back on his heels, he wrapped his hand around himself and groaned, stroking his hard cock.

“This is what you want, Mary?” he asked huskily. “To touch me, just like this?”

She licked her lips. “Yes, sir.”

“Why?”

The sun beamed across his bare chest, but she forced herself to hold his stare. “Gratefulness, sir.”

His eyes narrowed on her. “Is that so?”

Her breath caught in her throat as he seemingly reached right down into her soul. Her mind fought to give him the answer she knew he wanted. Though as she regarded him, all muscle and delicious man, her body buzzed with desire.

Elliott, a man as powerful as he, caressing himself was a sight she couldn't ignore. Wetness and warmth spread between her thighs, making her greedy for him. All thoughts vanished as her mind now zeroed in on his hand. Each stroke was her torture. She ached to touch him, taste him, and devour him.

When he circled the tip of his cock, he grunted, and the masculine sound cut right through her and freed her mind. An urge to consume herself with his pleasure overtook her. To make Elliott's grunts even louder…yeah, she wanted that. As another groan passed through his sculpted lips, he slid his hand down his thick shaft to the base.

A harsh shiver cut through her.

His gaze held hers, so wise and educated, and the smallest of smiles turned up the corner of his mouth. “Ah, now, there is the look of a woman who wants to fuck me.”

She shifted on her knees, aching between her thighs. “I do, sir.”

“Why?”

Her gaze drifted from his heavy cock to his molten eyes. “You're gorgeous, Elliott.”

A low groan rumbled from his chest. “Tell me the real reason why you want to touch me now.” He slid his hand up his shaft and he moaned in that sexy way men did. “Then you can have me.”

She trembled as wildfire seeped into her veins. And the words spilled easily from her mouth with her passionate cravings. “I want
you,
sir—to feel you, to taste you, to please you.”

“I see that you do,” he growled. “Come to me.”

She moved to him as he straightened up onto his knees. Leaning down over him, he removed his hand and she replaced it with hers. She took him swiftly between her lips, tasting the saltiness of his pre-cum, and her mouth stretched to take him against her tongue.

With each bob of her head and stroke of her hand, she sensed in the way he quivered that he had been pushed to extremes over the course of their time together. She understood, as he seemed to have a similar effect on her, too.

Knowing what he needed from her, which wasn't a slow, sensual dance to draw out pleasure but for her to do as he had done for her, ease the edge, she moved fast. Up and down, her mouth dragged across his soaked penis with her saliva, and her hand followed behind.

Elliott's fingers tangled into her hair, and he began shifting his hips in the same rhythm she set. His groans brushed across all of her senses, and his masculine, musky scent only made her sex clench for
him.

She used both hands now, stroking faster and harder. Sensing his cock becoming rock hard in her mouth, and when his fingers tightened in her hair, she increased her speed. His deep moans filled the room around her, making her feel emotions she thought she had lost.

To please a
man, a Dom,
fed her submissive nature. To give back to another who took care of her brought a sense of warmth and purpose, urging her to increase her speed and jerk him more firmly.

Two strokes later, he was bucking and jerking against her mouth and she was swallowing every drop of his offering. The sounds from his release were the only noise she focused on. And the way his body quaked was all that mattered.

His pleasure fed hers.

Once his trembling ceased, she slid her tongue across the tip of his cock, cleaning him. He tucked a finger under her chin and his smile was contagious. “You have lips that could keep a man very happy.” Then he leaned down, kissing her mouth, unashamed.