Diablo Blanco Club, Rite of First Claim Read online

  When it came to sex, Lyssa had assumed four years had dulled the memories, reduced the truth to half-believed fantasies, but the look in his eyes, the touch of his hands, the determination and control evident in his face supported what she had to admit was true. Mike knew her body better than she did. His touch ignited sparks along nerve endings she had never imagined existed. And the dominant he was called to the submissive within her.

  The fearful part of her cringed and cursed the admission. Any chance of escaping this experience with her heart intact was officially shot all to hell. She could see it in his face as he pressed a last kiss and seductive swipe of his tongue over her clit before rising above her.

  “Do you remember the lesson now? Do you remember who owns this body?” he taunted. The tip of his sheathed penis teased the quivering petals of her mound.

  Tongue tangled, unsure of whether she could speak clearly, Lyssa merely nodded. Her breasts heaved as she tried to drag air into her starving lungs. The crown of his cock breached her entrance, and he pressed forward. The moment she gasped and cried out as he slid against her G-spot, he held himself still, waiting, watching. Lyssa groaned deeply at the quirk of his lips and the flash of satisfaction in his dark eyes. Her moans rolled upward again and again as Mike rocked against her, rubbing along the spot until her body quaked beneath him.

  Lowering himself onto her, Mike moved his left hand between them and spread her pink flesh so the thick length of his cock and the coarse pubic hair surrounding its base scraped over her clit with each advance and retreat of his body into hers. His gaze held hers as he asked, “Everything you are belongs to me, right, Lyssa?”

  Conviction filled his words. It surrounded Mike’s body like an aura, soaking through Lyssa’s skin, into her muscles and bones, even into the blood racing through her veins. She wanted to deny him, wanted to refute the feelings and sensations bombarding her mind, her heart. When she tried to turn away, his free hand moved beneath her to cradle the back of her head and force her gaze back to his.

  Even if a tiny part of her believed what he said was just words, a game he was expert at playing, in that moment she gloried in his command. In his determination to bind her to him. Bound spread-eagle on the bed beneath him, Lyssa drowned in the passion her body had been craving for the last four years. Against his lips, she whispered, “Yes, everything.”

  “What, baby?” he demanded, pulling away, holding her head still, his eyes focused on hers. “Tell me.”

  “Everything I am belongs to you. All of it, all of me, is yours,” she sobbed, arching into the thrust of his cock. Even if it was just for this one night, Lyssa gave in to the glory of allowing him control over her body. If it was all she’d ever have of Mike, she’d take it.

  “Very good, Lys. Very good.”

  The heat of her body around his, the way her soft flesh cushioned him as he settled over her, Mike fought back the urge to hammer his cock into her. But he wasn’t about to believe she’d acquiesce that quickly. Lyssa was more complex than that. More stubborn too.

  Four years ago he’d let his need override reason where she was concerned. He’d allowed his duty to his fellow agents to take precedence over his commitment to Lyssa. He refused to repeat that mistake.

  “That’s it, Lys,” he encouraged as she moved to meet the advance of his body. Holding her gaze, he pulled his hands from between them and under her head to prop himself on his elbows with his forearms braced beneath her body. He cupped her shoulders in his hands, holding her in place. “You squeeze so tight when I pull out. Don’t you want me to leave?”

  The rattle of the cable against the headboard as she tugged at her bindings was her only response.

  “Hmmm.” Mike rubbed his lips against hers, nipping at her bottom lip as hers parted and her tongue darted out to stroke over his mouth. “Ah, ah.” He coupled his admonishment with a firm thrust of his cock, making Lyssa arch beneath him.

  Her thighs squeezed his hips, but the cuffs around her ankles hindered her ability to keep his body locked to hers. Lyssa’s eyes began to drift shut, her breathing increased, and the flex of her internal muscles around his flesh signaled her approaching climax.

  Time to remind her who held the control.

  Mike thrust hard and deep, then stilled. His grip around her shoulders held her upper body in place while he allowed more of his weight to rest in the cradle of her hips to prevent her from pushing up. The flush on her cheeks deepened, the warmth of her breath filled his mouth as he hovered over her, waiting.

  She tried to shift, but his size inhibited all but the minutest movement. The muscles surrounding his dick fluttered and pulsed, but without any real strength. He made a mental note to instruct his woman in how to use all the muscles of her body to increase her pleasure, as well as his.

  “Mike?” Her plea came out as a soft whimper. She looked up at him, confused, unsure, even a bit frightened.

  “What do you want, baby?” He moved his head back when she tried to kiss him.

  Lyssa’s breath caught, then shuddered out of her as she blinked up at him. A moan slipped through her parted lips as she ground the back of her head into the pillow beneath her.

  Mike fought the urge to grin. He’d known her capitulation was too soon. She loved what he could do to her body, but she’d be damned before she admitted it to him. Let alone to herself. Using the lightest motion, he rubbed his pelvis against hers, teasing her clit with the rough scratch of his pubic hair. The breath hissed from Lyssa’s lips, and her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip.

  “You can’t forget it, can you, Lys?” He moved his lips to the exposed skin on her throat. The delicate V of flesh at the base fluttered with the rapid beat of her pulse. “It felt so good. Hot and fast and hard. Out of control, your body speeding from one climax to the next. The sound of our breathing mingling with the wet slide of my cock in and out of your pussy.”

  Her head thrashed on the pillow. The muscles in her throat flexed as she swallowed. He felt her breath still for a heartbeat, then two. Her fingers relaxed their hold on the cables binding her to the wall, then gripped them tight as a ripple started in the legs rubbing against his and moved upward.

  “It was so good. Wasn’t it, Lyssa? So good that when I came back to town and knocked on your door in the middle of the night, you didn’t turn me away.” Mike moved his lips to the vein along the side of her neck. Tracing the path upward, he settled into the spot behind her left ear, the tender divot of skin almost as sensitive as the nubbin he teased between her thighs. He rubbed his tongue over the spot, his lips lifting in a grin as she quivered and moaned beneath him.

  “Did it feel the same to have me taking you from behind, your body pressed against the wall beside your front door, as it did when I tied you up in the closet?”

  Her answer was a drawn-out moan.

  Lifting his head, Mike released her shoulders and held her head cupped in his hands. “Tell me what you want, baby.” He slid his lips over hers. “Look at me and tell me.” There was no plea in his voice. At no time did he relinquish the control he had over her or her body.

  When she tried to shake her head, his grip stopped her. The slow drag of his hips over hers, the retreat of his flesh from within her drew a cry from her lips, and her eyes flew open to search his. Lyssa’s thighs tensed against him, trying to keep him close, but unable to due to the bonds around her ankles.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “Please what, Lys?” Mike declined to allow emotion to enter his voice. This was it. It was time his woman accepted him. Time she admitted to his control. Four years earlier, he’d let her body speak for her. This time she needed to say the words. “Tell me. What do you want?”

  Heat flared in her eyes. The soft blue glittered like ice as she glared up at him. Mike stifled the temptation to laugh. He schooled his features to remain expressionless. He’d trained dominants and submissives for nearly as long as his brother, he recognized the determination and pride fueling Lyssa’s
rebellious nature.

  “You.” The single word was spit out between her gritted teeth.

  “Me what?” Mike prodded, rotating his hips against her, teasing her entrance with the threat of pulling completely free.

  “Bastard,” she muttered, then pressed her lips together as if trying to stop herself from saying more.

  He shifted one hand from beneath her head to the taut peak capping her breast. He pinched the swollen nipple, drawing a gasp from her lips. “Me what, Lyssa?”

  He withdrew the head of his cock from her entrance. Lyssa pushed her hips into his and held his gaze. “You. Oh God, Mike, fuck me please. I need you to fuck me.” Her words ran together as she tensed beneath him, her chest heaving as the sobbed confession exploded from her.

  Mike settled his lips over hers. “Okay, my pet.” He eased his hand away from her breast to between their bodies. He guided himself back to her entrance, before lifting his head enough to capture her gaze with his. “Say my name, Lyssa.”

  “Mike.” She moaned it as he moved into her, pushing past her fluttering muscles.

  “Again.” He commanded, holding her gaze as he retreated, then thrust back into her.

  “M-Mike.” Lyssa gasped, her body going rigid beneath him as her climax built.

  With every thrust and retreat, he repeated his command until Lyssa was chanting his name as the sound of their mating filled the room. The scent of sex surrounded them. Her body arched and rocked against him, meeting each advance, following every retreat of his flesh within hers until Mike dipped his head and settled his lips over hers.

  “Come for me, Lyssa.” The order quaked through her.

  Beneath him, he felt the grip of her sheath tighten. Her eyes went wide before her head fell back. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out beyond a soft moan.

  She shuddered and quaked in his arms, every muscle in her body tensed as her climax peaked, only to be followed by a second, then a third. Tears streaked her cheeks. Lyssa caught her breath, then released it in shaky sobs as her body slowly relaxed.

  Mike waited, watched her until her eyes began to drift shut and her body went lax beneath him. He moved one hand to cup the back of her head while wrapping the other around her hips, pulling her tight against him, lifting her free of the bed.

  Her blue eyes flew open, wide and surprised as he gazed down at her. “My turn, pet.”

  His mouth captured hers as it opened, whether it was in protest or surprise was irrelevant. His tongue tangled with hers. The taste of her filled his senses. The smell of her body, the tart scent of her climax, and the musk of her passion permeated his soul. It wouldn’t take long, he knew, for his body to reach completion. Mike let his desires lead as his hips hammered against her. Each thrust was hard and deep as he staked his claim.

  His orgasm sizzled through his groin, sent fire into his balls and up his spine as he set it free. He thrust deeper, held Lyssa’s hips tight to his, pressing the head of his cock as close to her womb as possible, and imagined a time when he would be able to spill every drop of his seed within her without a thin layer of latex between them. A time when Lyssa would belong to him and a child would connect them. Beneath him, Lyssa tensed, her body vibrating with the climax that flooded through her and matched the residual pulses coursing through him.

  His grip tightened. Mike nipped at the slack line of her lips as she went limp in his arms. The dazed expression that filled her blue eyes drew a smile from him. “Mine,” he claimed and pressed his lips to hers.

  Lyssa declined protest. A sigh slid from her mouth into his as her eyelids fluttered, then drifted closed, and her body melted beneath him. He’d let her rest, Mike reasoned as he eased free of her body and moved off the bed.

  The crackle of cellophane drew his gaze to the five condom packages spread over the bedding beside her. After scooping them up, he dropped them onto the nightstand as he moved into the adjacent bathroom. A twinge of irritation niggled at the thought of the protection he’d donned before taking his woman. When his older brother had married, Mike had often wondered at Bryce’s insistence on immediately binding Mattie to him through pregnancy, but now, with Lyssa in his control, it all made sense to him.

  Both Lawrence women were stubborn, determined to follow a path only they could see. A child represented an elemental connection that neither woman would blithely walk away from. Bryce had recognized it years ago, and Mike could see the logic in his brother’s machinations. He disposed of the condom and dampened a cloth to clean himself. Rinsing it, he moved into the bedroom to attend to Lyssa.

  There were still a few more lessons he had to teach her before he released her cuffs. In the morning, he’d make sure she understood what he expected of her. Running away was over. Halseys kept what they caught. And Lyssa was definitely caught.

  Chapter Four

  It was more the mellow peace cocooning her than any sense of time slipping away that pulled Lyssa from sleep. The temptation to curl closer to the man beside her set alarms off in her head. The reflection across the room of herself, head pillowed by Mike’s chest, her arm wrapped over him as if she couldn’t bear to let him go, brought Lyssa fully awake. It all felt too good to be true. Her body and heart grumbled, urging her to return to sleep, but her head began to spin with the impossible scenarios of what would happen if she gave in to her feelings for Mike.

  Reliance on feelings had created an untenable—and eventually deadly—situation for her mother, and Lyssa had spent over half her life avoiding the same trap. The moment they met, she’d known instantly the type of man Mike was—determined. She hadn’t been wrong.

  Somehow in the twelve years since they’d met, Mike had convinced himself that he was in love with her. But that wasn’t possible. Not for her. The same stubborn determination that had helped the youngest Halsey break free of the family business and forge a career in photojournalism had also worked to keep the damned man from seeing the reality Lyssa had known her entire life: she wasn’t worth loving.

  He only thought he was in love with her. The age-old inclination of all alpha males to chase what ran away from them was at play. Lyssa had made the mistake of running the first time Mike had shown an interest. Which meant until he caught her, nothing she said would make him see reason.

  He carried the same bone-deep sense of honor and responsibility as his older brother. And that sense of responsibility would only become a prison for both of them if she didn’t get Mike to realize what he felt for her wouldn’t last. Lyssa cursed the day he’d set his sights on her. Not because she wasn’t interested in him, but because she ultimately knew she couldn’t have Mike. Letting him indulge the mistaken affections he carried would only bind him to a woman his honor wouldn’t allow him to walk away from.

  For her own good, she had to make him see what her father had made abundantly clear during her childhood and what her experiences with other men had merely reinforced—love and Lyssa were a rotten combination.

  She didn’t doubt Mike would finally see that the chase had fueled his affections, his love.

  “Mike?” Lyssa whispered, her lips near his ear. He remained still, unmoving. The heavy weight of his arm lay across her waist, binding her to him. She shook off the reluctance that weighted her heart. The consequences should she stay frightened her more than the anger she’d have to face when he found her gone. Only a fool trusted sexually based emotions.

  Inch by slow inch, she eased from his hold and scooted to the edge of the bed. As quietly as possible, she unfastened the buckles on the leather cuffs on her wrists and ankles. Once free, she left them on the nightstand beside Mike’s cell phone and the single remaining condom. Even as she searched the room for clothing, Lyssa refused to think about the five prophylactics she’d doctored and Mike had used.

  Working quickly, Lyssa tugged on the trousers, shirt, and formal jacket Mike had discarded. She never let her gaze leave his face. The complete stillness of his body disturbed her. The dark circles beneath his eyes and the exhaustion
lining his face identified the reason Mike slept so soundly.

  “All the better for me,” Lyssa muttered, ignoring the concern that lingered in her mind. She dug the key to the room from the borrowed trousers’ pocket and slipped toward the exit. On her way, Lyssa bundled up what she could quickly find—her shoes, wig, and ruined dressed—and held them in her arms while she eased through the door. Over the railing surrounding the second floor balcony, she was able to peek down into the lounge area.

  It was empty, though the sounds of voices and a vacuum cleaner filtered out of the dining room. Through the French doors leading onto the outside balcony, the sky remained dark, the only light cast by the dimmed wall sconces lining the hall. Lyssa locked the door behind her and carefully made her way downstairs. There was no guarantee Mike would remain asleep for long, and she wanted to be safely away before he discovered her absence.

  The grandfather clock began to chime when Lyssa reached the double doors leading into the foyer. Five sonorous notes sounded. She must have slept, if just for a few hours. Her body ached from Mike’s prolonged attentions.

  “Shall I get your car?”

  Lyssa jumped at the quiet voice behind her. “Ah, yes, please. My car.” In the shadowed confines of the foyer, she fumbled with the bundle in her arms for the ticket she’d received the night before.

  After handing it over, she followed the man onto the flagstone porch and stifled a gasp at the chill against her bare feet. Lyssa glanced back at the entrance, half-afraid she’d spot Mike, nude and furious, bounding after her. Her attention drifted to the stone border framing the curved, castle gate-styled doorway. Her heartbeat increased as her gaze tracked the design carved into the slab of stone over the lintel. A dragon. A crouching beast, eyes watchful, tail curled around its folded haunches while the vine of a climbing rose tethered the creature in place.

  Displayed at each end of the granite design was a rose in full bloom. At the center of the open petals, the claws of a dragon held a faceted stone in place. The intertwined initials of the Club rested in the middle of each gem. She knew the dragon and rose were a symbol of the Halsey family and had been since the fourteenth century. She could easily imagine the beast’s eyes followed her as she moved away from the doorway as if monitoring her behavior in order to report to Mike later.