His Forbidden Submissive (6 page)

He fought down the bile suddenly bubbling in the back of his throat. The idea of losing Viv forever, with no chance of a future, broke his heart. To have her in his arms for the rest of his life, he’d give up anything, even the lifestyle. At least he wanted to believe he could. He’d always figured nothing would be too great a price to pay if Viv was the prize, but denying a part of himself didn’t sit well on his conscience either.

Couldn’t he have his cake and eat it too?

Despite having made up his mind to not make love to her again until he’d told her his BDSM secret, the need to feel closer to his woman overwhelmed him. Slowly, carefully, he eased beside her so they were skin to skin. Her soft form fit so perfectly against him. He draped a free arm over her middle and bent closer.

His lips used her shoulder, her neck, her upper back as an erotic playground. Between the shower and the constant couplings, the artificial scent of vanilla and lavender that usually clung to her was gone, replaced by the subtle scent of woman and sex. And him. She smelled like she belonged to him.

And damn, wouldn’t that be nice.

Viv stirred under his attention. Her body went hard beneath the weight of her “first-morning-stretch” but then immediately softened. “Go away,” she said, a smile stretching her mouth. “I’m exhausted. Someone kept me up all night.”

“What a coincidence. Someone kept me up all night too.”

She pushed closer. “Feels like you’re, um, up again now.”

“What can I say?” He tugged her fully against him, giving her side a good press with his morning wood. “You’re naked in my bed, my scent all over you, you’re lucky I let you sleep at all.”

Laughing, she pushed onto her elbows, wrapped herself around him and leaned in for a long, deep kiss. Their tongues played, soft little flicks that weren’t necessarily leading anywhere. Kissing for the sake of kissing. With Viv.

He liked that.

“Good morning,” she said when she finally pulled back. “It is morning, right?”

“Closer to noon than morning. I think we finally got to sleep sometime around dawn.”

“Well in that case, good afternoon.”

He laughed, leaned in and pressed his lips against her shoulder. “You do have a change of clothes, right?”

Confusion wrinkled her forehead. “I just moved out of the house I shared with my husband for a decade. Practically my entire wardrobe is in my trunk. Why?”

“Because I have a little surprise for you, sweetheart.”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that. What is it?”

“It’s not so much something I want to give you but something I want to show you, a little insight into me so to speak.”

The sparkle in her eyes grew in intensity and she snuggled closer. “I like the sound of
that
much better.”

“Good.” He tapped another kiss against her lips, but what he’d meant to be a quick kiss before crawling out of bed and dressing suddenly turned into flat-out tongue warfare.

Viv coiled her arms around his neck, pulling, tugging, using her legs as sexy weapons, until she had him in the absolute worst possible position for maintaining his personal resolution for no more sex until he’d told her the truth.

Right smack between her naked legs.

Her feet hooked at his back, forcing his hard cock into ultra-close proximity to her spread-and-ready pussy. She rocked her hips into him, her wet heat painting the sensitive underside of his shaft. With one easy move, he could be balls-deep in all her scorching heat, but he’d made up his mind to—

Viv moaned his name.
“Broooock.”
A long, deep sound brimming with need and desire. For him, all for him.

And common sense went out the window.

“Did we go through that entire box of condoms last night?” she asked, breathless.

“No, there’s still a few left.”

“Then grab one already. I need your cock inside me, and I need it there
now
.”

Didn’t have to tell him twice.

He rolled to his back and reached toward the nightstand. Just as his fingertips graced the foil pack, Viv straddled him. They grappled over the condom, but enthusiasm interfered with efficiency. It took them two tries to get the damn rubber rolled into place.

Things picked up speed from there. His hands encircled her petite waist. She took him by the base of his cock as he slammed home.

She groaned, her hips pumping against his. “God yes.” Her hands pressed into the mattress on either side of his neck as she pushed back onto his groin.

Whack, whack, whack.

And that was when reality came crashing down. Her assault was nonstop. No tenderness, no Vivian sweetness. This was pure, ultra-passionate fucking. The problem with that?

She was in control, not him, and that was unacceptable.

“Get up.” Authority saturated his words. Commanding. It was the voice he used at the club, with his subs. “I want you on your knees facing the headboard.”

Her glassy eyes went wide. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, pet. On your knees facing the headboard. Now.”

He scrutinized those doe-in-the-headlight eyes. Violet orbs of confusion and maybe just a hint of rejection—he’d put both emotions to rest in short order. Just because he hadn’t told her about the lifestyle didn’t mean he couldn’t give her a subtle taste of what she could expect.

If he was careful, he could turn this round of sex into a learning experience. He didn’t need chains and whips and leathers to let her experience the lifestyle. Hell no. Authority and control were the only bindings he required.

Absolute authority and total control.

Chapter Five

Why did Brock suddenly sound so angry?

Viv stared down at her lover, shock mingling with arousal, but despite the gruff voice, those same caring eyes looked back. Her Brock. Sweet Brock. He was just ordering her around. Like Eugene always tried to. And yet Brock’s words were nothing at all like the ones Eugene had slung at her.

“What are you waiting for, sweetheart?” Brock’s hands cinched around her waist. “I gave you an order.”

He sure had.

Part of her wanted to tell him to fuck off—a throwback to her time with Eugene—but the other part just wanted to keep fucking him, no matter the circumstances.

The second half was currently in control.

With shaky legs and a pounding heart, she pushed from Brock’s hard body. The loss of his cock stretching her pussy left her feeling cold and needy. She hated that only one night as his lover had done that to her.

“Very good,” he said when she’d gotten into position. The mattress shifted behind her, and a moment later Brock’s hot body pressed close. Sure fingers wrapped around her wrists and positioned her hands against the headboard. “Now keep your hands right here. Under no circumstances, no matter what I do to you, do I want you to move them. Do you understand?”

She nodded.

“I want to hear you say the words, pet.”

Pet? There was that damn word again. The term was degrading, at least it should be, right? A man calling a woman
pet
made it sound as if she were his property. She hated the idea of belonging to a man.

So why didn’t she hate the idea of belonging to Brock?

“I understand,” she whispered.

“Very good.”

He released her wrists. His palms trailed up her arms with all the speed of snakes slithering through molasses, leaving pinpricks of sensation in their wake. Her eyelids drifted closed, and she let his touch take her over. Soft swipes traveled down her sides, over the flair of her hip, stopping briefly at her outer thighs.

“Spread your legs a little more for me, sweetheart.” A couple playful fingers teased across her folds. “My cock needs access to this wonderful area.”

A shiver chased down her spine, priming her already aroused core, and she wasted no time obeying that order.

“Perfect.” He kissed her neck, snuggling ever closer. “Just like you.”

It was a line as cheesy as the bowl of queso she’d had at that wannabe Mexican joint last week, but she couldn’t stop the smile that claimed her lips. “I’m glad I please you,” she said as a joke, but there was nothing funny in his response.

“You have no clue just how much, Viv. No fucking clue.” He leaned back, his hand grazed over the swell of her ass as he gripped his cock and eased himself into position. His glans breached her entrance. He took his time, pushing in at an agonizingly slow pace, stretching her with the spectacular girth she was quickly growing addicted to. When he was fully imbedded, she lifted her hand toward his cheek.

“Nope.” He put her hand back to its former resting place. “I told you not to move, didn’t I? All I want you to do is focus on the orgasm I’m about to give you. Is that understood?”

She nodded. “Y-yes. I understand.”

“Very good.” His hands slid down and secured around her waist, pulling her back firmly against his erection as if making sure they were firmly locked. “Bend forward at the waist just a tad, love. There…that’s perfect.”

He started thrusting.

She started moaning.

Over and over and over, the head of his cock tapped that sweet spot on the front wall of her channel. Arousal pooled in her belly, and she drew her bottom lip between her teeth. And just when she thought she was primed to the max, Brock sliced his fingers between the front of her pussy lips and found her clit.

“Oh god.” The words leapt from her throat as the first swipe of finger pads jabbed at the sensitive bud. “Brock.
Brock.
Shit.” She rammed her head against his shoulder. Her climax hovered just out of reach. It was right there, taunting her—just like Brock’s fingers taunted her clit.

No doubt Brock was doing that on purpose.

“You’re not coming,” he said, his voice a seductive purr in her ear. “Am I not fucking you hard enough?”

Lust rocketed straight to the spot where his cock was implanted so deeply inside her, working, pounding. She opened her mouth to answer, to tell him he was perfect, that his body was perfect, but no words escaped. Her vocal cords were paralyzed in that precious moment before release, that vulnerable moment where reality seemed to collapse in on itself.

He chuckled. “Or perhaps I need to press a vibrator against your clit…”

This time, his words sent her rocketing over the edge.

“Fuuuck!” Every muscle in her body jerked. Hard. She shuddered with the force of the landslide climax threatening to bury her alive.

Strong arms wrapped around her, pulled her firmly and securely into Brock’s embrace as she rode out the erotic storm. Her heart pounded. Her blood raced, pushing particles of pleasure through her entire body. Not a single molecule was spared the effect.

She was only slightly aware she was being moved. Brock laid her on her back and moved over her. With the gentleness of a wave caressing the sand, he pushed back into her body but he didn’t start thrusting, didn’t do anything but hold her, whisper to her, caress her skin as she slowly floated down from the stratosphere.

Brock’s prowess, his ability to take her to depths of pleasure she’d never known two people could experience, still amazed her, but it didn’t surprise her. Until now. This…this was a game changer. He’d been in complete, undeniable control. Every caress, every touch of skin,
every
thing had come directly from him. Hell, she hadn’t even been able to thrust really. Everything had started with him and ended with her moaning and thriving in absolute pleasure.

“God, that was intense. How’d you do that?” Her words came out so soundlessly, she wasn’t sure he’d even heard her until he lifted his head and looked down at her.

“It’s a gift.”

“No, it was, was…” She couldn’t form the correct adjective. Nothing seemed to be able to describe what had happened. “I just hope it’s a gift you plan on giving me on a regular basis.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, pet.”

A smile tugged at her lips, and she had to ask. “What’s with that name? It gives a whole new meaning to the term ‘pet name’.”

“I’ll tell you soon enough.” His hips pushed forward, reminding her he wasn’t finished with her yet.

Good. This was gonna be fun.

Since he hadn’t directed her not to move this time, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her. She rocked her hips against his, meeting his hardly moving thrusts.

“So when are you planning on giving me the surprise you mentioned earlier?”

“Soon.” His thrusting picked up speed little by little. “But first, I’m going to take you out to lunch.”

“Lunch? No, I—”

“Lunch first.” He hips collided with hers even faster. “Then I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

She sighed. He was still procrastinating, but she’d given him until lunch to confess whatever he was hiding. After all, it couldn’t be that big of a deal, right? She knew Brock better than she’d ever known any other man. Bonding over a life-threatening disease tended to do that.

“Okay, fine,” she said. “I’ll go with you but only under one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“You have to make me come again.”

He grinned. “I’d already planned to do that.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“Absolutely nothing.” His hips slammed forward without mercy, forcing her onto another erotic joyride, pounding into her until they
both
tumbled off ecstasy’s cliff and into a free fall.

* * * * *

Brock pulled open the black gilded door of the BDSM-themed restaurant he co-owned and prepared for the worst—yet prayed for the best.

Unlike the main club a floor up, Ravenous was just for show. A place where those who didn’t practice the lifestyle could enjoy a scrumptious meal while engaging in their curious side. They’d get a little taste of the BDSM lifestyle, but not too much, which was precisely why Brock had decided to bring Viv here for the big reveal.

Here, he could get a feel for her thoughts on the subject before dropping the big bombshell smack on her head. Oh, he already had some inklings as to what to expect with her. Although she might not even realize it, their earlier sex had had a nice element of BDSM in it. And she’d responded beautifully. She’d obeyed with very little reminding, and her orgasm…

God, thinking about it too much would likely give him another hard-on.

But simply obeying him and getting off in the process was a long cry from embracing the lifestyle. What would she think when she got upstairs, out of the mildly themed restaurant and into Restrained Fantasies, where the real fun was?

Restrained Fantasies was the real deal, a private club for likeminded people who wanted a safe, erotic environment to indulge in their salty sides. Would Viv flee when she witnessed the scenes being played out one floor higher? Or would she beg him to show her what it felt like to put herself wholly and completely in his control?

Intrigue lit Viv’s eyes. “Where are we?”

“Ravenous.” He treaded carefully. “It’s a little kickass restaurant with a…well, let’s call it a debaucherous side to it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see, sweet. You’ll see.”

He escorted her to the hostess stand. A leather-clad bombshell decked out in full dominatrix fashion smiled seductively at them, just the way she’d been instructed to do when patrons entered. Like most of the restaurant employees, she acted like someone in the lifestyle, but she wasn’t.

“Good evening, Master Brock.”

Viv stiffened at his side, no doubt in reference to the “master” comment.

The hostess continued. “Would you like your—”

“Yes, Brin,” he said quickly, knowing where her question was going as she always asked him the same thing on his arrival.
Would you like your usual table?

He and his business partner, Stephen, had a reserved seat, just like they did in the club. And speaking of Stephen, was he here? The man was practically a permanent fixture around this place except, of course, when he was at the hospital saving lives.

Like when he’d saved Viv’s life.

“Is Ste—” He stopped the name short. He wanted to see Viv’s face when she realized her oncologist co-owned a BDSM restaurant and club. “Is the table empty?”

“Yes Sir.” She gathered a menu for Viv as she spoke—he no longer needed one. “Would you like to start your meal with your usual drink?”

“Yes.” Shit. When he’d concocted his plan to bring her here, he hadn’t thought about the fact his own employees might give him away prematurely. He turned to Viv. “What would you like to drink, sweetheart? Coffee spiced with a little Bailey’s Irish Cream?”

She nodded, a smile playing with her lips. What? Was she surprised he remembered her fondness for coffee, spiked coffee at that?

“Very good. I’ll get your orders to the bar as soon as you’re seated.” Brin motioned for them to follow her. “Right this way.”

As Brock fell into step behind his employee, he turned his complete attention to Viv. Her gaze seemed to be taking everything in, so he took the opportunity to do the same, to attempt to see the space as she might.

When he’d designed his getaway, he’d blended “old” style with “new”. Sure leathers, chains and rod-iron bars dominated the bulk of the décor, but the space wasn’t dark or drab. Creams blended with deep reds and blacks to give the place a light appeal with a trim of edginess.

He’d rounded out the look with ornate chandeliers and rock walls, giving the restaurant a dungeon-esque aspect, but his favorite feature of the restaurant, however, was the tables—although tables might be a stretch of the term.

Large, cushioned platforms hung suspended from the ceiling by four thick chains and were secured to the floor with a hidden base. Couldn’t have drinks tipping whenever people got up to use the facilities. Circular rod-iron “tabletops” sat in the center of each platform—they weren’t large, but they were big enough to hold Ravenous’ trademark shared, no-silverware-required meals.

“So what do you think?” he asked as she slid onto her seat.

“I think it’s quite breathtaking. I love the colors, and these tables are phenomenal. It makes me feel risqué while also feeling safe.”

“Good. That’s pretty much exactly what I was going for.”

She went completely still. “What
you
were going for?”

Oh shit, he’d just royally fucked up. He’d brought her here to judge her reaction, not to confess anything. Yet. But talking to her came so naturally, he’d just opened his damn mouth without thinking. He could lie, tell her he’d helped the owner build the club, which was the partial truth. But then what would happen later when he told her the truth?