Part 22 (1/2)

Keith hated the position in which he found himself. On one hand, he was lying to Malcolm about Katrina. From the other side of his mouth, he was keeping information from Kat about a man she considered a close friend. No matter how he sliced it, he was lying to the two people who meant the world to him.

He inched toward the stairwell. ”I'll walk you out.” Mostly he wanted to double-check the locks to make sure they were properly engaged. He trusted that Kat knew how to work her locks, but having visual confirmation would set his mind at ease.

When they got to the front walkway, Malcolm reached up to adjust a camera that had been nudged a little out of place. ”You're right about her hiding the way this is affecting her. She's all jittery, talking fast, and looking a little flushed.” Then his eyes widened. ”Maybe she has a thing for b.u.t.termore? Her taste has always run to men she thinks she can change for the better.” He shook his head. ”It's going to break her heart to find out what a noxious a.s.s he is.”

Sometimes Mal's conclusions were plain wrong, and sometimes they were close and still missed the mark. Keith coughed. ”You think she has a thing for b.u.t.termore? She's been friends with him for years, and nothing's happened. Plus, her taste isn't that bad.” Only he could appreciate the irony of his statement. He was glad Kat was upstairs, because she'd probably blush down to her roots.

Malcolm shrugged. ”I don't know. It'll be your job to find out. If that's the case, you're going to need to convince her otherwise. We can set her up with Owen Zaputo. He's a decent guy.”

Owen Zaputo was a great agent, one of their best. He was a force in the field, and he had a quick, intelligent mind that could definitely keep up with Katrina. When Keith thought about it, he realized that Kat actually had a lot in common with Owen.

He did nothing to prevent the scowl from taking over his face. ”Zaputo? Seriously? That guy is way too soft for her. She'd run right over him, and she's not the most forceful person.”

”If she wants to be a Domme, she can start with Owen. He'd love to sub for her.” Malcolm chewed his lip as he considered that theory.

Keith shoved him toward the parking lot. ”Go home. You need sleep, because you're starting to sound ridiculous. Your sister is not Domme material.”

Mal moved two steps, but then he turned back to Keith. ”No, she's not. But if she wants to try out being a Domme, then we have to support her in that. She might be all sweetness to us, but she can be seriously tenacious when she decides she wants something. If we get in her way, then she'll just push us aside. Given the danger she's in, we can't afford to have her p.i.s.sed off at either of us.”

”Fine. Then I'll teach her how to use a flogger. She can practice with my equipment.” Part of him wanted to see her wield it, to see if she could flog him and remain the feisty submissive he loved. ”More weapons to use against an attacker.”

Malcolm grinned as he backed away. ”You could even let her practice on you. She could get out all her aggressions, and you can pretend you're doing it to be a good friend instead of admitting what a m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t you really are.”

Without answering, Keith stepped back through the threshold and closed the door. When he got upstairs, Kat was just finis.h.i.+ng up placing an order for pizza and salad. As she tossed her phone onto the counter, he gathered her in his arms, pressing the soft length of her body against his.

”Your brother thinks I'm a s.e.x addict.”

He thought she'd laugh, but she frowned as she considered it. ”Well, I can't disagree. I think I've had more s.e.x in the last week than I have in the past year.” Then her expression morphed as she brought out that devious grin. ”Dinner won't be here for twenty minutes. Want to feed your addiction first?”

He pretended to mull the offer. ”Okay, but what do you want to do with the other nineteen minutes?”

She lifted a brow and slipped her hand between their bodies to cradle his c.o.c.k through his pants. ”I can think of ways to fill the time.” With that, she squeezed him hard.

His breath caught in his chest until she eased her grip. Not wasting a moment, he tangled his hand in her hair and pulled. Tears wet the corners of her eyes, but she moaned. When she parted her lips, he claimed her mouth and didn't bother to temper the violence of his pa.s.sion. She made a whimpering sound in the back of her throat, and that desperate noise nearly caused him to lose control. No, he wasn't addicted to s.e.x. He was addicted to s.e.x with her.

He broke suddenly, trailed kisses down her neck, and bit hard once he reached the curve of her shoulder. She cried out and gripped his head, but he was immovable.

”Mine.” He licked a path up the side of her throat and took her earlobe between his teeth.

”Yes,” she hissed, tearing at his clothes.

He bent his knees and banded his arm around her waist. Then he stood, lifting her from the floor, and he carried her down the hall. Throwing her to the bed, he gave an order. ”Naked. Now.”

He ripped off his s.h.i.+rt and pants, thankful they'd dispensed with condoms. Glancing up, he saw that she'd shed her clothes and centered her body on the bed with her legs spread in welcome. One finger moved over her c.l.i.t, pressing and circling, enticing him closer.

He crawled over her and slid inside her waiting p.u.s.s.y in one smooth motion. Then he lifted his hips. ”Close your legs.”

When she was positioned the way he wanted, he hugged his thighs around her legs, pinning her in place. He flexed his hips, withdrawing nearly all the way before plunging deep inside. Yes, this was what he wanted. Her heat surrounded him, and her small c.u.n.t was even tighter than usual.

He wrapped his hands around her wrists and immobilized them on either side of her head. With his weight pressing her down, she could barely arch her back. She wiggled, testing the limits of this restraint. She was stuck.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on the feel of her velvet sheath. Beneath him, the sounds of pleasure grew more desperate with each thrust, and they only fed his pa.s.sion. Soon he felt the fluttering of her internal muscles, and he increased his pace.

”Keith, please let me come.”

”Yes,” he whispered. This wasn't about denial or control. She'd submitted to him already, and that was all he needed. ”Give it to me.”

And she did. Her entire body trembled and shook, convulsing under him. He held her steady with his hips and arms, keeping her together as she came apart. Her surrender was a sweet balm for his soul, and he followed her over the precipice, grasping at stars as he fell.

The world spun. Slowly he became aware of her hand smoothing a path through his hair, a comforting and calming caress that made him never want to move. Well, that and he was still buried in her warmth.

The doorbell rang before he could say anything.

Beneath him, she heaved a sigh. ”They're early. Move and let me throw on some clothes.”

In a perfect world, he'd let his sub answer the door and bring the food to him. But it wasn't a perfect world, and she was in danger. He wasn't going to let her do it. ”No. I'll go. You stay naked. Grab a towel and sit at the table.”

She gave a long-suffering sigh. ”Yes, Keith.”

At her resigned tone, he glanced up to gauge her mood. She smiled widely as she ran her hand up her stomach and over one breast. He decided he liked her playfulness. He planted a kiss on the curve of her breast. ”I'll get to those after we eat. You're going to need energy.”

Five minutes later, she sat across from him with the contented expression of a woman who had been thoroughly sated. He didn't doubt her enjoyment, but they'd just f.u.c.ked rather quickly. She couldn't possibly be that happy yet.

He loaded two plates with pizza and set one of them in front of her. ”Explain why you want to learn to use a flogger.”

She looked at the plate and then at the counter where a bag lay next to the pizza box. ”I ordered salad. You want some?”

”Sure.” He sat down and took a huge bite of pizza. She got up and opened the bag. ”While you're doing that, answer my question.”

”It wasn't a question, really. More like a demand.” She got down two bowls and heaped them with lettuce, tomatoes, olives, and cuc.u.mbers. ”But since you demanded to know, I thought I'd learn for you.”

He blinked. ”For me?”

”Yes. For you.” She set down the salad and a packet of dressing. ”It didn't take me all that long to figure out that you can be a Dominant and also a m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t. And that you're not really much of a s.a.d.i.s.t.”

He narrowed his eyes, not sure where she was going with her accurate a.s.sessment.

The vixen smiled serenely as she stabbed her fork into the lettuce. ”You know, after our little talk last Sat.u.r.day, I noticed that you only do things I like now. Spanking, flogging, nipple clamps. Those kinds of things. If you were truly a s.a.d.i.s.t and you got off on my pain, you wouldn't limit yourself to things that make me hotter for you.”

She was gloating, and he didn't have a problem with it. Perhaps he'd been selfish in the past, but he found that he truly wanted to engage in sensation play that increased her level of s.e.xual pleasure.

”You can talk to me, you know. Tell me anything. I won't get upset or think less of you.” The triumph had fled from her voice. Even her volume was low now. He had no idea what she meant.

He forced himself to meet her warm brown gaze. She'd bared her soul to him, given him everything. He'd warned her that he wouldn't give her anything in return, but he'd broken that promise already. He'd given her pieces of himself he thought didn't exist. Was.h.i.+ng the salad down with water bought him a few moments.

”Okay. I'm a m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t. But I'm also a Dominant. I don't do submission.”