Diablo Blanco Club, Rite of First Claim Read online

  She nixed that idea. Nope, after the scene Mike had made in the Club, she doubted she’d convince any dom to take her as a submissive. She’d have to go with Baby Plan B. Cold and clinical, but at least she wouldn’t have to bear the touch of any man who was not Mike.

  Mike lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers. “Tell me why you came tonight.”

  Keep it under control. Don’t let him know. “I wanted a man,” she told him. It wasn’t a lie. Her intent tonight had been to find a man.

  That seemed to get his attention, but only for a moment. Mike continued moving after a momentary hesitation. “Congratulations. You got one.” The smile lifting his lips wasn’t a reassuring one. “Me.”

  A tiny quake undulated through her at the stroke of his hand along her calf as he adjusted the spread of her thighs. Lyssa gritted her teeth and fought the urge to growl at the confidence in his voice. Piss him off. Make him let you go. “I said a man, not a boy.”

  He searched her face, then held her gaze. “I’m almost a year older than Kringle, Lys. That would make him a boy as well.” Nothing in his expression gave away his feelings on the matter, but the tightness of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes hinted at his rising irritation. “If you were really hoping to shag Dayton tonight, you would have been disappointed,” Mike informed her coolly. He removed the suspender strap from her wrists once the bindings settled into place.

  “What do you mean?” Lyssa asked, intent on frustrating Mike so much with her ridicule that he’d let her go. God, don’t let him touch me again before he lets me loose. He’ll never believe I don’t want him once he really touches me. “How can you doubt it was him I wanted? The costume was for him. He seemed very attracted. The conversation you interrupted was going along smoothly—”

  “Kringle is careful about his partners, Lyssa. He learns everything there is to know about them. If he ever selects a sub at the masquerade, he doesn’t touch her. He tests her and he challenges her, but he doesn’t fuck her.” He settled onto the edge of the mattress next to her left hip. “He wouldn’t have taken you to bed tonight.”

  She ignored the shudder of relief Mike’s revelation sent through her. Images of Dayton touching her sent chills through her body. “He seemed interested.” Lyssa turned her attention from ignoring the truth she hated to admit and focused on not reacting to how close Mike sat to her.

  Although she’d done her homework, that little fact about Kringle had eluded her. Lyssa tensed as she watched Mike rise from the bed and move to her ruined dress. The crackle of cellophane whispered from the velvet as he lifted it from the floor. Lyssa could have cursed. She’d forgotten about the doctored condoms she’d brought with her. Discomfited, she gnawed on her bottom lip and refused to acknowledge the kernel of regret growing inside her as she watched Mike, waiting for a reaction.

  Mike pulled the packets free of the cloth and held them in the palm of his hand. Anger glittered in his eyes. Perhaps it was merely her imagination, but Lyssa sensed disappointment in his gaze as well. She ignored the tiny voice connected to the part of her that wanted Mike, the part that had ached to be with him for what seemed like forever. “Untie me and let me get back to what I was doing before you butted in where you weren’t wanted.”

  Mike moved back to the bed and dropped the prophylactics onto her bare belly. “No.” His fingers checked the fit of the cuffs and cords restraints. “It would be a shame to let all your preparations for the evening go to waste.” Graceful bastard that he was, Mike climbed onto the bed and settled on his knees between her splayed legs. “If you need a man, you get me.”

  “I’ve already had you, Mike. Time to move on. Try someone new.” She hissed as his hands stroked up the inside of her thighs.

  “Now you’ve earned a second punishment, Lyssa,” he informed her.

  His expression and tone were so matter-of-fact, Lyssa realized just how serious he was about punishing her. “First off, Mike, let’s remember you don’t own me…”

  “Are you trying to go for three?”

  “You are insane,” Lyssa snapped, tugging at the restraints and twisting against the sheets.

  “But,” Mike continued as if she hadn’t even spoken, “I’m willing to let it go because you’ve been a good sub and kept yourself waxed for me.”

  At the heat in his fingertips and the rasp of callused pads over her sensitive flesh, Lyssa arched involuntarily into his touch. She couldn’t deny the sensations running through her. She’d be lying if she said her fast, shallow breaths weren’t a result of the slow stroke of his fingers over her nude mound. It was harder still to fight the moan welling in her chest when her reactions brought a wicked smile to his lips.

  Wanting to wipe the smug, self-satisfied look from his face, Lyssa snorted. “I did no such thing!” The lie fell smoothly from her lips. It had pleased her to indulge in trips to the spa with Mattie. The fact that the command he’d whispered in her ear that night in the closet prompted the first visit was a moot point.

  “We’ll work on your honesty another time, honey.” Two thick fingers spread her nether lips, opening her to his view. “Right now, I’m going to set the ground rules.” Two digits on his other hand slipped into her wet channel, pressing against the taut muscles, searching for the sweet spots he’d instinctively found the last time he’d touched her. “Rule number one: I don’t share. Ever. So no other men.”

  The heat in his gaze matched the heat his fingers were building between her thighs. Crying out as he pulled free, then returned, this time using three fingers to stretch her delicate flesh, Lyssa made note of every word he said, locking them away so she could somehow use them as a cudgel to beat away the temptation Mike represented. This couldn’t last. The heat, the passion would burn itself out, and he’d go back to his life, his career. Just like last time. He’d never want what she wanted. A baby. A family.

  “Rule number two: I tell you when you’ve had enough. If I think you need to be fucked every hour on the hour for a week, then that’s what you’ll get.”

  “What about a safe word?” Her voice was shaky and breathless. Lyssa cringed inside at the hint of excitement in her tone. She should be fighting this, not savoring the sting and heat coiling inside her as his thumb coasted over the tender knot of nerves peeking from beneath its hood.

  Lyssa trembled at the sight of his body poised over hers, her paler legs bound open as he knelt between them. His fingers pushed into her body, then pulled out, her cream coating his skin. She jerked her gaze from the erotic reflection in the mirror above the bed.

  “Now that we’ve established you understand who’s in charge, yes, I’ll select a safe word.” Mike never lifted his gaze from the movements of his fingers as he caressed her sensitive flesh.

  “I choose ass,” Lyssa snapped, unable to keep her gaze from drifting back to the view above her.

  Mike shook his head. “Not a democracy, darlin’. I make the rules. You follow them. I’ll choose the safe word. Something you wouldn’t normally blurt out.”

  “I know the purpose of a safe word,” Lyssa grumbled, her senses on edge as his fingers teased a particularly sensitive spot deep inside her and his head lowered over her breasts. At the sharp nip of his teeth against a tightly beaded nipple, she arched closer to him, driving his fingers deeper within her. Her head swam with the sensations, her eyes fixed on the mirror overhead, adding visual stimuli to the damp heat of his mouth on her breast, the sting of his fingers stretching muscles that had been empty for too long. Again Lyssa forced her attention from the mirror to Mike. In a ragged voice, she suggested, “How about worm?”

  Mike simply looked at her. His gaze drifted from her flushed cheeks to the rapid rise and fall of her breasts and finally to the curve of her belly. “Dragon,” he said. “Our safe word is ‘dragon.’”

  Her heart slammed against her ribs as he leaned back on his haunches. He wrapped one hand around his straining penis and lifted his other hand away from her pussy. Her juices glistened on three of hi
s fingers. He opened his mouth and sucked the moisture free. The gleam in his eyes and the way his dark chocolate irises deepened to black sent a shiver skidding along her spine. Involuntarily she tugged at her restraints. The condom packages slid off her stomach onto the bedding next to her. “O-okay,” she stammered.

  “Now, there’s one more rule for you to remember,” Mike intoned softly.

  Lyssa dipped her head in a small nod and waited. God, she needed to fight this. There was no way she could allow him to know how much she lov—wanted him to take control. She breathed deep and slow, trying to calm the fire in her blood.

  Mike grinned down at her and picked up one of the black wrappers. “Appreciate the reminder, love,” he teased, tearing the package open and rolling the latex tube into place. He crouched over her, arms braced on the bed beside her shoulders, and the heated length of his cock slid through the wet lips of her sex before finding her entrance and pressing in. He continued. “Rule number three: this body is mine. Pussy, ass, breasts, lips”—his fingers slipped over each body part as he listed it—“everything belongs to me. To use as I see fit. In any way I want.”

  His firm shaft moved deeper, forcing her pulsing flesh to submit to his presence. She gasped. He fisted his hands in her hair, and his mouth hovered over her parted lips. He held her gaze as he forged onward, burying himself completely in her tight sheath. “Do you understand? Everything—all of it. All of you belongs to me.”

  His first stroke vibrated through her. She arched up into his arms, pressing her mouth against his even as he drew her into his kiss. The flavor of her arousal mingled with his unique taste as his tongue coaxed hers into play. Winding around and over it, he seduced her response even as his body attempted to force hers to admit his dominance, his ownership.

  She squirmed against him, her mind refusing to follow where her body wanted to go. Wrenching her mouth free, she turned her head, hissing at the sting in her scalp. The clenched fingers tangled in her hair immediately loosened, but Mike’s hold remained firm. Lyssa glared up at him. “I belong to me. No one else, kid.”

  He stopped moving. “Four years ago I proved I wasn’t a kid, Lys. Do I need to remind you again?” Propped over her, he waited, his eyes focused on her.

  Lyssa could guess what he saw. If she gave in to the temptation to look over his shoulder again at the reflection of them in the mirror over the bed, she was sure to confirm that a flush pinkened her cheeks and the hard peaks of her nipples capped breasts that were heated and swollen. She’d be damned if she’d roll over for him. It was better if he stayed ignorant of the truth. Better for her.

  “I must have missed that particular lesson.” She wanted to curse the impulse within her that egged her on, but it was the only thing saving her from eventual heartbreak and disappointment.

  Mike pulled out and rose over her. Moisture from within her body glistened on his latex-covered cock. “Then let me repeat it so you’ll remember, pet. We wouldn’t want any confusion regarding rule number one.”

  Her laugh sounded forced. “You mean no other men?” She shook her head and smirked. “Doesn’t apply, remember? You. Don’t. Own. Me.” She annunciated each word slowly and without rancor.

  The only problem was, Lyssa wasn’t sure if it was him or her own body she was trying to convince. How foolish was she to fantasize about this man possibly caring for her? This was a game to him. Role-play. No matter how much she’d like to believe, and despite Mike’s professed intentions, a part of her knew there was no future with him.

  “Wrong answer, Lys.” He leaned so close his features blurred. Only his dark, furious eyes were clear. “I own you. Every muscle, hair, fiber, and cell within you is mine.” His lips caressed hers, soft as a butterfly’s wings, before he eased lower along her frame.

  His hands held his body away from her, the damp heat of his penis brushing her hip, then thigh, the only contact between them. The craving to touch was unbearable, but Lyssa knew at the first sign of weakness, at the barest hint of giving in, she would be lost. She’d never be able to convince anyone, especially herself or Mike, that she didn’t want him.

  Damn, why does he have to make it feel so good?

  His lips sipped at the firm jut of her nipples. First one, then the other. The tip of his tongue flicked over them, circled. He drew one breast into his mouth while the other ached for attention. Fire burned beneath her skin, and the hard peaks throbbed in time to the slow draw and release as he suckled. Then it started all over again as he shifted to her other breast.

  Throughout the meticulous process, his body caressed hers. Nothing too heavy. Merely enough contact to remind her of what the rasp of his chest hair felt like against her flesh. How the heat emanating from him permeated her skin and sank deep to warm her insides, stir the blaze his fingers had kindled earlier.

  Long before he left her breasts and eased himself farther down her supine form, the moist evidence of her arousal escaped her channel and drizzled onto the bedding. The restless shift of her legs smeared a fine layer of her body’s natural lubricant onto her thighs. The smell of her arousal wafted up to her. Lyssa gritted her teeth harder to keep from begging.

  Their bodies were clearly displayed in the mirror over them. The sight fascinated her. The contrast of his darker skin against hers; the dark curls he’d allowed to grow down over his eyes and past his nape, caressing her skin like raw silk; the flex and pull of muscles rippling under his skin, highlighted by the sheen of sweat. Her body quivered and twitched with every touch, and her fingers curled around the cables binding her until her knuckles went white. She twisted her head to the side, only to catch sight of their reflections in the mirrors on the armoire and bathroom doors.

  His body glided over hers, slow and sensual; his hands coasted along her breasts and hips. Even the slightly abrasive feel of his chest hair along her bare skin pushed Lyssa closer to the edge. The more Mike played, the more she tensed up to battle her building climax. She couldn’t give him the upper hand. She couldn’t lose control. The need to surrender that control to him was too tempting.

  Mike rested his chin on her sternum and watched until she returned her gaze to his; satisfaction tilted his lips upward. “Enough?”

  Never let ’em see you sweat. She’d learned that lesson as a child under her father’s fists, perfected it as a young woman with the “stellar” choices she’d made in men. She met his challenge with a smirk. “Is that all you’ve got? Tired already?”

  His laughter rumbled against her belly, vibrating through her core, churning the passion into a fiery froth.

  “Just tell me when it gets too hot for you, baby.” His hands moved to cover her breasts, the rough fingertips mapping the tiny bumps and ridges of her areolaes before plucking at the firm crowns. The rest of his body moved south, then paused as his lips traced the indentation of her navel.

  Lyssa bit her lip to fight the moan that rose inside her. She couldn’t stop watching him, whether directly or in the mirrors around them. She couldn’t make up her mind where to look. The sight of his darkly tanned skin against hers contradicted the rumors she’d heard of his visit to friends on the East Coast. The streaks of lighter brown in his dark brown curls attested to time in the sun, as did his sun-darkened skin.

  A wave of stimuli coursing through her subsumed her misgivings as Mike’s mouth reached the design permanently drawn into her skin. As Lyssa swung her gaze from the mirror beside them, past the ones on the armoire doors, to look directly at Mike, she held her breath as he rubbed his lips over her tattoo and moved from side to side as he worked his way down to the pale mound beneath the dragon.

  His left hand abandoned her breast to stroke along the path his lips had taken. At the apex of her thighs, he waited. His gaze held hers as the heat of his palm warmed the crease between her thigh and groin before he stroked his fingers over her vulva, parting the swollen folds. He blew softly across the throbbing bundle of nerves and watched her reaction.

  Lyssa moaned and arched
closer, shudders coursing through her limbs at the fire building between her thighs. When her eyelids began to drift shut, the pinch of his fingers around her clit snapped them open again.

  “No turning away, pet,” Mike taunted as he watched her. He lowered his mouth to hover over the nubbin held captive between callused fingertips. The warmth of his breath teased the nerve-rich flesh before his tongue swirled over it, around it. Once. Twice. Then a third time before his lips sealed it away inside his mouth.

  Lyssa bucked beneath him. She fisted her hands around the cables securing her, the muscles in her legs locked up, and a cry left her lips as she ground her head into the soft pillows. Waves of sensation buffeted her body and stole her breath as she fought the orgasm determined to break free. The rush of her blood sounded in her ears, drowning out any words Mike might have said. The vibrations pulsed outward from her womb, soaking the channel desperate to be filled and radiating into her swollen breasts, where the fingertips of his other hand continued to pluck and twist the nipple of her left breast.

  She didn’t dare close her eyes. Fixated on the mirror over them, Lyssa could feel the fingers between her thighs move downward to circle and tease the entrance to her body. The wet evidence of her passion coated his digits as he teased and taunted her with barely there forays into the opening before retreating to rub along the puffy lips guarding it. His teeth nipped her clit. Another cry spilled from her lips.

  “Look at me, Lyssa.” His voice was rough with arousal. She moaned and shook her head. His next bite bordered on painful. She whimpered. “Now. Look. At. Me.”

  Gasping, desperate to control the climax screaming for release, she lifted her head from the pillows and blinked several times to bring his visage into focus.