What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) (31 page)

BOOK: What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6)
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“I thought that was only for the club.”

“If you’re going to submit to me sexually, Angie, that goes beyond the walls of the club. Like now, for instance.” He added a third finger, still slowly stroking up inside. As he did so, he moved down her body and took a position between her thighs. “My fingers have been wedged in your pussy for several minutes. My tongue has been where they are now, though not nearly as deep. I’ve tasted you, licked you everywhere from your hard little clit to your pretty pink asshole. It might be me, but those are activities one would do during sex, don’t you think, my sweet submissive?”

“Yes—” She started to reply, stopping when her “s” came out like the hiss of a snake as his constantly moving fingers, all three of them now, curled upward, applying pressure in a deeply pleasurable massage of her G-spot. “Yes, Sir,” she managed with a long drawn out moan.

“Angie?”

Her eyes were already locked on his fingers, watching as they worked between her glistening lips. She only had to lift them slightly to where his face hovered over her thighs. Fire blazed back at her as she met his very intense gaze. “Sir?”

“That play with Arturo... Don’t do that shit again. He was lucky I didn’t rip his fucking head off.”

“T… Sir, please,” she panted. “I won’t do that again. I swear, but I can’t take anymore.”

“Ah, darlin’, I’m thinking that you can.” Leaning down, he pushed her thighs wide apart and slid his open mouth once more over her. Moving up her belly next, he licked and lapped a wet path, veering off at her breasts to sip on a nipple, suckling hungrily until she was writhing beneath him. He nibbled and licked his way to the other aching tip, treating it to the same. When he reached her mouth, and claimed it in a heated kiss, she tasted herself on his lips and searching tongue.

Without breaking the kiss, his hips wedged between her thighs and he thrust into her below, filling her incredibly deep. With her feet beside her head, his cock nudged her cervix with each long stroke. Reflexively, her hands came to his shoulders and she hung on—the only thing she could do—as he drove them both into a hair tingling, heart thumping, finger curling, couch-shaking orgasm.

Granted, she couldn’t be sure of the first, but as she clung to him, she felt his heart pounding in his chest and the delicious bite of his fingers curling into the flesh of her ass. As with everything about T, when he came, he came big, roaring with such pleasure that she swore she heard the window panes rattle as his body shook hard. Not a low key, pleasant, nice vibration, but a big freakin’ tremor from all two hundred and fifty some pounds of him as he found his release. It transferred to her body and on through to her kick ass, wide-cushioned, leather and upholstery estate sale couch where their comfortable discussion of what they now were had all started.

A long while later, once their heart beats had slowed and their skin had cooled, Angie stirred from where her cheek lay on his chest. Angling her head back, she looked up at him. His eyes were closed, the thick blackness of his lashes like a silk fan against his cheek. She also noted the dark shadow of a scruffy beard along his jaw. She could feel where it had abraded her skin, her inner thighs, her breasts, her cheeks, and didn’t mind in the least.

“T?” she called softly.

He didn’t stir, but answered with a relaxed, “Mm?”

“I think you answered well enough.”

Luminous brown eyes opened and gleamed down at her. “About what, darlin’?”

“About everyday life. You are definitely a bleed over kind of guy.”

A slow smile tipped his lips, and the sexy dimple appeared in his cheek. “Will you mind, do you think?”

She giggled. “After that, do you have to ask?”

As they both grinned, he rolled, pulling her over his body, then rolled again, settling her back on the couch with him on top. She took his weight easily, since he braced himself slightly with his elbows and knees. “You came beautifully for me and we created so many sparks, my hair stood on end.”

Ah, another question answered. Well, almost.

He parted her thighs with his knee, his rekindled cock sliding smooth and stiff along the seam of her pussy lips. “That’s never happened before. Let’s see if we can do it again.”

They did, and this time, he said his hair actually tingled.

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

The rumbling of her stomach woke her to the tantalizing aroma of coffee brewing and… was that bacon frying? Sitting up, she glanced at the empty space beside her. The rumpled sheets and indented pillow reminded her she hadn’t spent the night alone. She rose, slipped on her ecru satin robe trimmed in black lace—thank heavens she’d splurged recently and bought something nice—and tucked her feet into her slippers. In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth and ran her comb through her hair quickly before hurrying downstairs.

She came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of her sun-drenched kitchen as she took in the beautiful sight that greeted her. Dressed only in jeans, T stood barefoot at her stove flipping sizzling strips of bacon with a fork. A shaft of morning brightness shining through the eastern facing windows bathed the broad expanse of his shoulders and bare back in sunlight. The warm glow illuminating the muscles that bunched and flexed beneath his smooth, tanned skin as he moved.

“Mornin’, baby. The coffee’s ready and breakfast will be done in a couple of minutes.”

He hadn’t moved as he spoke, sensing somehow that she was there. He did so now, his eyes running over her body for a moment until they shifted up to her face.

“Come here.”

Without thinking, her feet took her forward. His arm encircled her waist as he pulled her in for a sideways hug and a quick, yet passionate kiss. When he lifted his lips, his gaze skimmed downward and he murmured, “Moonlight and black lace.”

“Excuse me?”

Setting aside the skillet, he turned fully to her, the arm at her waist, drawing her near as with his other hand, he stroked his fingers lightly along her jaw. “Back in L.A., you wore the same colors. In the low light, you shimmered like you were standing in the moonlight.” He dipped his head and with a soft brush of his lips murmured, “I thought it was the lighting, but the radiance is coming from you, beautiful.”

Her lips parted in surprise, then curved into a soft smile. “I was thinking something similar, that you glow golden in the sunshine.”

“That goes to show how much we think alike.”

“Or are as different as daylight and dark.”

His head came up, his face serious. “Different isn’t always a bad thing, Angie.”

“No, I suppose not,” she replied, silently thinking that too often different didn’t mix and turned disastrous, like oil and water, gasoline and flames, and thinking back, Angie and tequila shots. As their differences stared her in the face, she hoped—no, prayed—they would be the exception.

“There’s no supposing about it.” His head tipped to the side. “You okay?”

“Yeah, not enough sleep, I guess. Someone kept me up half the night.”

The soberness left his expression and his lips kicked up on one side in a crooked smile. The hand on her lower back slid lower, gliding over her satin covered hips to dip below the short hem of her robe. His other hand joined the first, each grabbing a cheek as he aligned their hips. “I didn’t hear any complaints at the time, particularly when I woke you at 4 a.m. with two fingers in your wet pussy and my thumb in your—”

Her hand clamped over his grinning lips not letting him finish. Eyes shining with amusement, she felt the hot slickness of his tongue against her palm and released him.

“We’ve got more training to do today.”

Her mouth gaped open as her imagination ran wild, on her knees at his feet, hands bound behind her back, naked over a bench. Beyond that, bound in chains, her hands high over her head as he lashed her sensually with a flogger once again. Heat gathered rapidly between her thighs, reminding her of the lasting ache and tenderness he had created last night.

“T,” she breathed. “We have to work. And after last night— I mean, four times is a record for me. I’m surprised I can walk, let alone cogitate this morning. Seriously, never have I—”

It was his hand that rose to her lips this time and cut off her rambling speech. As his head bent and his lips found her ear, giving the lobe a little nibble, he laughed, a morning husky laugh that made her rethink her protest and that five times might actually be doable.

“I meant Rossi training, darlin’. I can’t imagine what you were thinking.”

The obvious amusement in his voice made her face flush hotter. “Rossi?” she choked out.

“Yeah.” He raised his head, the look on his face stating clearly that he was done with teasing. “You’re done with Dan. I’m your trainer from now on.”

“Is that a good idea? Working so closely together and being, uh… intimate.”

His hands, which were still fused to her ass, tightened. “Told you before, darlin’, Dan wants you.” His fingers flexed. “Now that you’re mine, he’s hands off. I’ll explain it to him the first chance I get.”

“Is that really necessary? We’re co-workers and friends.”

“The man’s got a hard on for you and there’s no way I’ll allow him to keep rolling around the mats rubbing it against you.”

“Don’t be crude. He does not.”

“Yeah, he does and he’s not gonna get another chance to make a play.” A hand came up and captured her jaw, holding her face angled up to his ready to make his position plain. “This is not up for discussion, and here’s why. First, I’m the team’s weapons and munitions specialist. There’s no one better to train you and help with your deficiencies on the range. Second, I can take on two Dan Ogilvie’s and not break a sweat. That’s not me bragging, just pure fact. I’ve got size, strength, youth and skill in my column that says so. Third, it isn’t fair to the man to be so close to something he wants so badly, but will never get. Trust me on this, I got a dick. I know. And fourth, I wouldn’t like it. Not one bit. Got it?”

“You got a dick and you know?”

“Damn straight. This is my call. If we’re talking about vagina shit, you can call the shots.”

“Vagina shit?” The more he talked the sharper her voice became.

“Yep. Any more questions, protests or arguments?”

“Yes. I need your definition of ‘vagina shit’.”

“Sir.”

“What? We’re not having sex.”

“No, we’re ambling toward an argument. And, I’ve decided to extend our D/s power exchange to any squabbles that might piss one or the other of us off. So, bearing that in mind, let me ask again. Have you got what I’m saying about Dano and training?”

“You decided?”

“Again, my call.” His fingers flexed slightly on her jaw as he lowered his voice and demanded. “I’ll have your answer now, baby.”

“Yes, Sir,” she grated out. “Although I’m not liking your delivery method—at all—I got it.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He pressed a hard kiss to her lips and moved away. “Agenda for today,” he continued as Angie watched him move back to the stove as if he hadn’t just laid down the law to her in the most arrogant and obnoxious manner ever. He’d made a few salient points, she’d give him that, and the possessiveness over what he perceived as Dan’s interest was sweet in an odd, stalkerish sort of way, but the outrageously arrogant and sexist statements had her mind reeling.

He went on, oblivious to the turmoil he’d created in both her mind and body. “After breakfast, we’ll start a training assessment, first on the mats, then we’ll go to the range. I need to know what progress you’ve made. This afternoon we’ll work on our assignments, I’ve got some shit to do and I know Cap has piled on you. We’ll have dinner at six and head to the club. Jonas is doing a Shibari exhibition tonight that you won’t want to miss. He’s not only a master with his ropes; he’s an artist.”

T glanced her way. Like a fool, she was standing exactly how he had left her.

“Darlin’? You sure you’re all right?”

“Vagina shit?” she repeated.

His lips twitched as his hand shot out and grabbed the satin belt at her waist. He gave it a tug, bringing her closer. As he did, the knot came undone and her robe fell open revealing she wore nothing but skimpy panties underneath. Her hands made a grab to close it, but he was quicker, sliding his hand inside and hooking his arm around her bare body. When she was plastered to his naked chest, he bent his head and his mouth latched onto the soft spot below her ear.

“But I need clarification,” she argued, without much heat, while still trying, but failing to make her point.

“Baby, you lost the advantage on that when your robe came open.”

“T.”

“Angie.”

She pushed ineffectually against him. “You’re impossible.”

“I was teasing.”

“What? Which part?”

“I’m a guy, little bit, and can be insensitive sometimes,” when she grunted, he amended that point, “okay, often. I admit it. Despite that, I’m not stupid enough to call something important to you vagina shit and mean it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. As for the other, about Dano. I was dead serious.”

“I kind of thought that, but next time can you give a thumbs up or raise your hand so I know when you’re kidding?”

“Give a thumbs up?”

“Or a hand signal, so I’ll know.”

“Like raising my hand?”

Leaning back against his arm to see his face, she frowned when she saw his grin and realized he was playing again.

“T, I was being serious.”

“What can I say? I like teasing you, little bit.”

“I noticed.”

“And messing with your head...”

“Yeah, I got that too.”

“And your body.” Proving his words true, he lowered his head and captured a nipple between his lips. The bud grew instantly to pebbled hardness as he suckled. When he caught it firmly between his teeth, he added around the hard tip, “Because you’re hot when you’re ticked off.”

“T.” This time her protest was more of a tormented moan as she slid her fingers into his hair and held on.

Long minutes later, after his mouth had robbed her of lucid thought, he lifted his head. His tongue came out and gave each rosy pink peak another flick. “Fuck that, you’re hot all the time.”

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