Avenge Me. Maisey Yates
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shut down that thought and held her more firmly, walking toward the room and checking his phone before keying in the code on the ornate door.
“Ladies first,” he said.
Katy shivered as she walked into the hotel room. There was nothing restrained or modern about their surroundings. It was like a vampire whorehouse. Black fleur-de-lis wallpaper gilded with ornate sconces. A sumptuous bed with deep purple velvet pillows and a black bedspread. Everything about it screamed dark seduction, which was appropriate, since that was what she was in the middle of.
And she didn’t know what she’d been thinking. Not in the car when she’d crawled over to him, not in the elevator when she’d tried to... Had she been trying to make him angry?
No. Because she hadn’t really thought it would make him angry. But she’d thought it might provoke a reaction.
Earn her the threat of punishment.
And there was something about it that she liked. Something about the edge of danger that was wrapped in gauzy sensuality that she found irresistible.
Something that made it feel real and present. It was a desire she’d always known she’d had, but had never, ever been brave enough to go and get.
Until him.
This moment, this man, was like coming up to the surface for air after years of being held underwater. And all she could do was gasp for breath. Take in everything she possibly could.
Because it wouldn’t last. This feeling, this moment, wouldn’t—couldn’t—last.
He closed the door behind them, the sound so final. Strangely arousing. Because this was it. The point of no return.
And she didn’t want to stop anyway.
She turned to face him, his eyes dark. In that moment, she felt she saw this man, this stranger, in a more honest light than she’d ever seen anyone else in her life.
Her parents were always lost in a drug haze. Sarah wrapped up in her ambitions, working to make a life for them, away from the hellhole they lived in. Trey in the safety net of anger that kept him from having to feel just what a horrible life they had.
And as for her? She hid everything. Even from herself.
But this man was looking at her, stark and hungry, in pain. He was stripped bare, standing there in his custom suit. All the expensive fabric and elegant tailoring couldn’t conceal the fact that he was a man on the edge.
And everything in her responded to that fact.
Maybe because it forced her into honesty. Because it made her have to break through the glass case she surrounded herself in. Keeping everyone and everything at a distance so that she could simply make it through life. So that she could make it through to the end without falling into the dark places she used to be.
Because she had no choice but to make it to the end.
To her revenge. To her justice.
Her entire life was lived for someone else. All of her desires sealed away safely.
Until now. Until this moment.
That was why she wanted it all. Every emotion in this one experience. Why she wanted it intense and dark and everything she’d ever wanted sex to be.
Because this was all she would get. This night. This man. And then it was back to living for other people.
Back inside her glass case.
Not tonight. Tonight she was simply going to follow his orders. And whatever it made her feel would be for her. Not anyone else.
Confessing ignorance. Asking for help. They were two things she never did. Normally she would rather chew glass. But this...game. Whatever it was. This thing with him made it okay. It made it feel right. It made it feel okay.
More than that, it felt like a release in and of itself. The slow removal of a weight she hadn’t known she’d been carrying.
“Stand against the wall,” he said.
She did, because obeying him gave her a sort of illicit thrill. “Now what?”
“I want to see you without that dress.”
“You don’t want to kiss me first?” she asked, feeling nervous.
“No.”
“But—”
“Take off your dress for me. Now.”
She put her arm behind her back and gripped her zipper with shaking fingers, drawing it down slowly, her breathing harsh and unsteady, her heart thundering in her ears.
The bodice went slack, sliding down and revealing her breasts, covered by a black satin push-up bra that was doing her a whole lot of favors.
His nostrils flared, his jaw clenched tight as his hand drifted to the bulge at the front of his slacks. His fingers drifted along the ridge there and she had to squeeze her thighs together to try to assuage the answering ache between her legs.
“The rest,” he said, his voice rough.
She pushed the dress down her hips on her exhalation, and let it pool at her feet. She kicked the dress aside, leaning against the wall. The velvet fleur-de-lis and satin that covered the wall was both warm and cool against her skin.
She lifted her hands to the front clasp of her bra.
“No,” he said, his hand pausing over his clothed erection. “Leave it. Everything else stays for now.”
He approached her slowly, a predator stalking his prey. His movements liquid and powerful. He extended his hand and brushed his thumb over her cheek.
“I think I first saw you two hours ago,” he said. “It feels like I’ve been waiting for you for a lot longer than that.”
“Forever, even,” she said, her heart pounding hard, virginal nerves starting to get the better of her.
What had she gotten herself into? This was a situation, a man, way above her pay grade.
But he’s the man you deserve. After waiting so long. After working so hard for everyone else. You haven’t felt anything for so long. And he’ll make you feel it all.
Her inner selfish heathen was determined to have her way tonight, and damn the consequences.
He moved to her, pressing his body against hers, her back firm against the wall. He leaned in, kissing her hard, his mouth savage, demanding. He cupped her face, blunt fingertips digging into her skin as he took possession of her with his lips, teeth and tongue.
She kissed him back, helpless to do anything but answer his every demand.
She’d never even conceived of a kiss like this. Filled with so much desperation. So much need.
The need to control, the need to submit. The need to possess and the need to yield.
It was everything, and it all blended together. His needs and hers. It was a perfect storm, and it was happening around them. In them.
He lowered his head, lips on her neck, her collarbone. He cupped her breasts, lowered his head and slid the flat of his tongue down between the valley of her breasts.
She arched into him, her shoulder blades still against the wall, a hoarse cry rising in her throat.
“How should I punish you?” he asked, scraping his teeth along the plump curve of her breast before soothing it with his tongue. “With pleasure? With pain? Or do you like both?” He bit her again, harder this time, the shaft of pure, undiluted lust it sent through her far more shocking than the sting he left behind.
“I like whatever you want to give me,” she said, shocked by the huskiness in her tone. By the confidence in the statement.
“That’s what I want to hear.” He grabbed the cup of her bra and tugged it down.