Instead, Blake slowed his pace. “Why should I let you come? It’ll need to be a good reason.”
Too far gone to care he was being a bastard yet again, I mentally scrambled to come up with something. “I trusted you to hold me up.”
“Hmm, you’re right, you did.” He freed my wrists and threw my bra aside. “Trusting me does deserve a reward.” He pulled out, flipped me over, and tossed me further up the bed. “Spread your legs wide, Kensey. Now.” As I did, he knelt between my thighs, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and then slammed home.
My back bowed, and I grabbed at his hair, needing an anchor. Then he was pressing me into the mattress and fucking me again. Every thrust was hard, feral, and deep—God, so deep that it was a blissful agony.
Blake parted my slick folds, exposing my clit to every slam of his cock. “Come.”
That was all it took. White-hot pleasure flooded me, arching my spine, and I shattered with a silent scream. My pussy clenched around the cock that was swelling and pulsing. Grunting into my neck, Blake rammed harder once, twice, and then surged deep as he exploded.
Dazed and shaking with aftershocks, I almost groaned as Blake slipped out of me moments later with a soft kiss. Intent on enjoying the view, I watched as he strolled into the bathroom—no doubt to dispose of the condom—and winced at the sight of yet another whopper of a bruise; this one was on his lower back, near his waistline. It was fading, but it was still big.
“What’s with the bruises?” I asked, voice a little slurry, as I rolled onto my side.
He didn’t answer until he climbed onto the bed. “I do Krav Maga and martial arts with my PT. He doesn’t hold back.” He began to trace and stroke my arms, shoulders, breasts, and stomach with his fingers. His eyes followed the path of his hand, as if … marveling over something.
“I love your skin,” he said. “Soft. Smooth. Flawless.” He kissed the corner of my mouth, and licked his way from my scar all the way to the other corner of my mouth. “You okay?”
“A little sore, but otherwise fine.”
His eyes gleamed. “I like that you’re sore.” He lightly danced his fingers over my swollen folds. “Your skin is even softer here.” His gaze flashed with something I couldn’t quite name, and then his expression turned serious.
My brow furrowed. “What?”
Still stroking my folds, he said, “If Cade turns up at your place again in the middle of the night, you send him away.”
I blinked, silent for a moment. “I’m sorry?”
“I don’t want him spending the night in your apartment, whether he’s on the sofa or not.”
“If I told you that my friend—a friend I used to fuck—sometimes turns up at my place in the middle of the night and stays over, would you be okay with it?”
My stomach churned at the idea, which was a little disturbing. “Well, no.”
Blake’s eyes softened just a little, but his face remained hard, telling me he wouldn’t budge on this. Hand cupping my pussy possessively, he said, “If Cade turns up at your apartment, you call him a cab or drive him home. Okay?”
I sighed. “Okay.”
Eyes now languid with satisfaction, he brushed his mouth over mine. “Good girl.”
“I’m not, you know.”
“A good girl.”
His lips quirked just a little. “You are for me.”
Pausing in repositioning the helmets on the shelf, I arched a brow at Henry, knowing what was coming.
“Yo mama’s so fat, the only way to get her out of a telephone booth is to grease her thighs and throw a Twinkie in the street!”
Laughter rang throughout the bar, and I rolled my eyes. “Yo mama jokes are old and overused, Henry—just like yo mama!”
He put a hand to his chest. “Ho, ho, ho—a shot across the bow.”
I shook my head, smiling. But that smile morphed into a frown when Sarah’s hand abruptly snapped around my upper arm and she marched me forward.
“Mom, we’re taking our break now,” she declared.
Standing at the bar, Sherry frowned at us. “All right.”
Sarah didn’t speak again until she’d hauled me into the breakroom and closed the door. “I want to know what happened with Blake on Saturday. Come on, you were supposed to call me yesterday to fill me in. Then you promised me this morning that you’d tell me when we went on our break, and I can’t take the suspense anymore. Spill, woman, spill.”
Retrieving my cell out of the locker out of habit, I settled at the table. Once she took the seat opposite mine, I told her about the events that unfolded on Saturday just as I checked my emails. None were from Smith. It was a relief, since I didn’t want to hear from him. But it was also irritating, because I wanted him to hurry and reach the end of whatever game he was playing—the longer he drew this shit out, the more time he’d steal from my life.
As I finished my tale about the basement, Sarah’s mouth fell open. “God, Kensey, you have to get me into this club.”
“Come on, just once. Please.”
“Aside from Blake, I think most of the guys there are into the BDSM lifestyle.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
I folded my arms, staring at her in surprise. I’d expected her to tease me, laugh, and be full of questions. I hadn’t expected this. “I didn’t think you were into BDSM.”
She shrugged. “I’m curious about it. There’s a BDSM club near the biker compound, but I’m scared to go in there. I wouldn’t have a clue how to behave, and I don’t know if they’d be okay with me going inside just to get a feel for what it’s like. The basement of the Vault sounds perfect for me. It’s somewhere safe and fun, where I can talk to people who are part of that lifestyle and find out if that kind of thing is really for me.”
Still surprised, I shook my head. “I can’t believe you never mentioned it before. You’re not exactly a private person.”
“It’s not like I’m a regular sub or anything. I’m just interested, but I don’t yet know how I feel about it all.” Propping her elbow on the table, Sarah rested her chin on her hand. “When are you next seeing Blake?”
“He said he’d call me this weekend.” And I was very much looking forward to a repeat of Saturday night. There was no denying that the guy was damn good in bed, even if he could be a demanding bastard at times.
“Good,” said Sarah. “You can ask him then if it would be all right for me to go there some time.”
I sighed. “I’m not sure if he’ll allow it. It’s a ‘members only’ thing.”
“The whole club is members only. He said we could go back to the Clubhouse,” she pointed out. “That’s members only too.”
“And he might think that’s enough of a favor to you. Besides, the two places are vastly different.”
“Just say you’ll ask him. Please.”
I raised my hands. “I’ll ask him.”
“And please say you took photos of the dome. I’d at least like a glimpse of what it looks like.” She snatched my phone, presumably to check my picture album. “A shot of Blake naked would be even better.”