Chapter Twelve
“What?” Chase’s need for control spiraled faster, becoming an intangible dark vortex. He stared at Kate, unable to believe she’d make the leap from her worst fear to making him take her there. If it had been anything else, it would have been easy to deny her. But this…asking him to force her, something he’d done consensually to lots of other women was like a sucker punch in the gut from Lady Luck.
Kate nodded, as if she’d thought about it and decided this was a good decision. “You could force me. I trust you not to hurt me too badly. If you forced me, I’d know what to expect, how to react. It wouldn’t be the same, but it would be better than not knowing.”
And as hard as Chase had avoided the dark side, here it now loomed, holding Kate’s hand. “It doesn’t work that way, Kate.”
“Why? You force me, I fight you, and…” She looked away. “Please, just do this for me? You made me a woman, Chase, so it would be easier if I had to do it with another man. Don’t let another man hurt me first.”
The Dom inside him rose up, ready to step forward. Wasn’t this the control he sought? Wasn’t this what he needed to be sane?
He shook his head. No, he didn’t need this. The old Chase needed this depth of control. Now he’d be happy with a little bondage, submission. Maybe he could convince her to go a different way with this.
“It won’t work because it will probably excite the hell out of you. It’s a fantasy of many women, you know. To be forced. Consensually, of course. You like rough sex. Trust me, it won’t be the same.”
Her brow wrinkled with confusion. “It’s a fantasy? How do you know this?”
Dark side, this is Kate. Kate, meet the dark side.
“Because I’ve done it before.”
Her eyes widened, and he braced himself. But instead of attacking him with censure, she merely cocked her head, looking even more confused. “Women have asked you to force them.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
He ran his palm over his face, not wanting to do the numbers game. His fact sheet looked really bad next to her one tally mark. But it was who he was, and he couldn’t change it. And though he wanted to believe that number didn’t make him less, he always thought so.
He felt like he was on a cliff, barely hanging on, slipping further down the slope toward the chasm, away from safety. “I don’t keep score, Kate. I have no clue.”
“More than one?”
“More than five.” His hold slipped on control, and he held it by the fingertips.
“Do you enjoy it?”
“I have in the past. I don’t know if I would enjoy it with you.”
Her chin came up and her brow furrowed. “Why not? What’s wrong with me that you can’t do that to me?”
Shit, no, don’t go there, Kate. It’s not you. “Nothing’s wrong. I feel differently about you. I care about you. I didn’t care about them, and that opens a whole new can of worms on the situation.”
“You care about me.”
“Of course I care.”
She still wasn’t convinced. “Well, why? Why is it different?”
“It just is, Kate.” Shut her down, Sanders. “Jesus, do you have to know everything?”
“Yes. Why won’t you do this for me?”
Because I love you. Because I’m afraid of hurting you.
“I just don’t wish to, that’s all. It’s not appropriate. I’m your boss. Fuck, you shouldn’t even be here. This is why I should have listened. You should have been Jake’s. Not mine.” He clamped his lips shut before he said too much and hurt her.
“I trust you not to hurt me,” she said softly. How did she know that was his worst fear? “That’s what this is about. You don’t want to hurt me.”
“Kate—”
“How did you keep from hurting the other women?”
“They had a safeword to stop me if it was too much.”
Once he gave her a safeword, what was there to stop him from taking her fully there? It was like a BDSM cover charge—have safeword, welcome to the dark side club. Yes, he was afraid of hurting her. But if he introduced her, and she liked it and she never came home…
“A safeword.”
He nodded. “You would say stop or no, as part of the pretend part. The role-play. You’d need something else, something different so I would know it’s too much for you. That’s what a safeword is for.”
“Like…Christmas?”
“Yes.”
No. Fuck no. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself from talking, from telling her what she needed to know to access that part of his world. “That would work.”
“I can do that.” Her blue eyes were no longer conflicted as she assessed him from the end of her table. No Emma, all Kate. Brave, strong, ready to take him on.
He faltered. “I can’t do this, though. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t make me go to Jake for this. Please.”
“You wouldn’t.” Chase swallowed bile as his stomach churned a bit.
She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, and he recognized the set in her jaw as something she learned from Jake, the most stubborn person in the world. “Yes. I would.”
“You want this. You really want me to do this.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed, harder than he’d ever swallowed before. Closed his eyes. Prayed to Jake’s God because he didn’t believe half of the time. No, the devil resided in him, as she loved to remind him. But he nodded. “I’ll do this.”
“Thank you.” She looked relieved, scared, and excited all at the same time as she took her first step into the threshold of true kink. Hardcore kink.
“Christmas is your safeword?” he asked.
She nodded. Swallowed. But looked so brave, her eyes huge in her pale face.
Shit. He had to do it now, or he’d back out. “Here. Now. I’ll take you on the couch, okay?”
He rose and took a deep breath because already each one was shallow, his lungs becoming like a vise, clamping down. His heart accelerated, and he slipped into the controlling skin he wore when he did his dark side activities. It wasn’t that much different than his boss skin. Not really.
Her hands trembled as she pushed back from the table and stood near the corner of the dining room. She clenched the fabric of her skirt in her fists, her eyes so dark blue, pupils wide from a mix of fear and desire. “Okay.”
He made a grab for her, and she dodged him. She didn’t get far, though. He had her backed into a corner of the dining room. She raised her hands, leading with one shoulder, ready to fight him.
“I’ll scream,” she warned.
“Go ahead. Scream all you want.”
“I’ll bite you.”
She tried to run, and he grabbed her arm, yanking her into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her into submission. She kicked at him, her bare feet hitting his shins, her hands grabbing his shirt, digging into his chest. He held her tighter, pinning her arms behind her back, twisting just enough to bring her to heel.
Normally, he’d try to kiss a woman now, but he couldn’t. It surprised him that this failed to excite him because he’d done it so many times, with so many women. He lied about five. The number was higher, and fuck if he hadn’t loved every second of it.
Until now. But he did his part, restraining her. He could feel her excitement. She panted, her breath heaving as she struggled. He snuck a glance at her face, into her wide, dark eyes glazed with desire. The fact that she was turned on sparked life into his cock. The fact that her breasts were pressing against his chest, then his arm, as she twisted…
He picked her up and carried her, kicking and screaming, to the couch and tossed her down.
“Lay still,” he commanded, exciting her further.
She tried to escape, and he dragged her back, tossing her on her back. He fell between her thighs, and she yanked his hair and then slapped him. She froze, her eyes wide as she realized what she’d done.
“Fight me, Kate,” he commanded. “Hit me again. You can’t stop me.”
She could if she went for his eyes or windpipe. Why hadn’t Jake taught her that yet? Jake didn’t think like a girl. He’d have no need to damage another man like that.
“If this were real, you’d go for my eyes, love. Go for the windpipe. You’d want damage. A blind man won’t rape you.”
She slapped him again, harder. The old Chase would have become inflamed by that slap. Would have gone for the kill, so to speak, forcing her harder, fighting her harder. But he found himself to be completely calm, under control, just like he would be if he were teaching her to shoot, or to disarm a person, or to do anything else she needed to come back to him.
He didn’t need this control, not like he had when Tia had driven him there, to hurt her. He didn’t need this, and his heart lightened. Maybe Lady Luck was on his side, after all, when she sent him Kate.
He felt as if he was underwater, and the scene unfolded in slow motion. She went to slap him, and he grabbed her hands, ignoring her teeth on his forearm. He pressed his finger into her gum below her front teeth until she released him and then pinned her hands above her head with one of his.
He yanked up her skirt, knowing she wasn’t wearing panties, just for him. The weight of his chest held her immobile as he slid his fly down and unbuttoned the top button. His pants came down just enough so his cock would pop free, hard despite the disconnect he felt with the event. He slid the head of his dick along her soaked folds, then positioned himself at her entrance.
His hips pressed to hers and he laced all of his fingers in hers, pinning her hands on each side of her head. The fear grew in her eyes as she realized she was trapped. His. His cock was wedged between her soaked pussy lips, and all he had to do was shove. Fear swirled with excitement, and she panted, her entire body trembling under him.
“No,” she breathed but closed her eyes in surrender.
Her surrender was his undoing. As bad as he wanted her submissive under him, he didn’t want her this way.
“I can’t do this to you,” he whispered. “I can’t force you. I’m sorry, but you mean too much to me. I can’t take you there, even in role-play.”
He leaned down and kissed her face, her cheeks, her closed eyes, his lips removing the tears starting to form, dripping on her closed eyelashes.
He swallowed, his throat raw as he fought for the words he needed to tell her. “But now…this is when you stop fighting if it happens because that first thrust is going to hurt like hell. You won’t be ready like you are now, for me. So just lie still.”
He kissed her lips gently. “This is when you retreat to a place where he can’t touch your soul. If you want me to be there, in that place, then I will. I’ll hold you, you’ll be so brave, and we’ll wait. When you get the chance, you’ll kill him. If you can’t kill him for yourself, do it for me.”
He kissed the tears sliding down her cheeks, hating what he had to say. He should never have to say this to the woman he loved. “And when you come home to me, it will be as it always has been. It won’t make a difference. Do you understand? It’s just your body. It’s just an act. Your soul is perfect, and no one can hurt that. Not like this.”
He kissed her lips again and released her hands. He hated her tears, the way she bravely laid beneath him, her face a mask, like his often was. Except for the tears. “Why are you crying, love?”
“I can’t tell you,” she whispered, her eyes still closed. “You commanded me not to.”
It took a moment for her words to soak in. And he sucked in a breath as he watched her cry because she loved him. He wished like hell he could take it back, he could let her, because he loved her, too. But tomorrow it would all change. He’d lay down the law, and she’d hate him. What woman could love a man who sent her into hell with his best friend?
“You need to hate me, Kate. Please. Hate me,” he begged. “Go. Find that feeling and hold on tight. Can you do that? You won’t feel this way anymore tomorrow. Trust me. You won’t.”
She sighed, still trembling with desire. “Will you make love to me, then? I need you.”
She needed him. He bent and kissed her lips, slipping his tongue between them, exploring her mouth gently. Slowly, he eased inside her pussy, so wet and tight around his aching shaft. He inched in, just as he had the first time, taking his time to claim her fully. The devil in him found heaven in that last thrust into her silky sheath. How could he be ready to come already? He ended the kiss to draw in a ragged breath, going to that place with the stats and codes to calm his libido.
“Yes,” she whispered against his neck. She clamped her thighs against his and lifted her hips in invitation, beckoning him to drive harder. “Can I come? Please?”
“Already?”
“Yes.”
Chase slowed his thrusts to languid strokes that wouldn’t be more than a breath across the hot coals of her orgasm. Just enough to keep the flame interested but not enough to start an inferno.
Control. Even now, making love to her, so vanilla an ice cream cone would be excited, he needed control. With each thrust, he realized Jake was right. He needed control, needed a little kink, especially now.
He didn’t want to take her to the dark side. Not her last time with him. He stilled and trembled a bit, his mind fighting for a way to make both sides of him, the Dominant and the man, complete.
He dropped a quick kiss on her lips. “No.”
No?
Kate’s mind screamed at him, because really, she wanted to come. Now, hard, screaming his name in six languages. The forced play had been too exciting, his gentle words touching, and her love for him overwhelming. Now, she wanted to shatter around his cock and have him hold her because that was her favorite part of sex—when he held her.
She trembled and breathed around the orgasm, quelling it by relaxing her inner muscles, which was difficult because each stroke he took butted the head of his cock straight into her G-spot. Her hands gripped the edge of the couch—it was hard to grip leather. Instead, she found the folds of his shirt and clenched the hem, then pressed her knuckles to his hips, trying to urge him faster.
“A woman can have many orgasms, you know. I could come for you now and then again, later.” She echoed the words he’d used right before he’d taken her virginity because they’d excited the hell out of her. They might work for him.
“Are you trying to make a deal with the devil?” His lips curved into a smile against her neck.
“Just justifying my position.”
“I like this position,” he murmured in her hair, kissing her ear. One hand stole over to her breast, and he cupped the flesh, massaging, kneading, then finally tweaking a nipple in that special way of his that sent shocks of electricity through every limb, straight to her pussy, around his cock.
She swallowed, the lazy tempo of his hips driving her crazy. Not enough pound for her to come on her own, but enough to keep her orgasm at bay, still interested, lurking like the devil might lurk when seeking souls to steal. Damn him.
She changed tactics and whispered in Chinese, “I want to scream your name in six languages, sir.”
He laughed. He rarely laughed like this, one straight from his gut, one of pure joy. And it seemed odd, yet right, since he should find joy in making love to her.
“You want to come badly, don’t you?” he whispered when he was done laughing at her.
“Yes.”
He stopped thrusting, and she groaned in frustration, sure he meant to kill her slowly with passion. He reached over to the coffee table and fumbled, then came back with her MP3 player. He scrolled through the songs and popped an ear bud in one of his ears, the other in hers.
“You asked once why I don’t listen to music. It’s because my mind is always on, working, and music makes me lose control of my thoughts. My edge. The same way I hate to drink. I become fuzzy and lose that constant stream of information. I should hate sex for the same reason, but I’m a smart man.”
She blinked, hanging on his words in the same way she hung onto her orgasm. He never talked, not about himself. He never let her in.
“You gave me a song you wanted to fuck me to earlier. This song is one I heard you sing the other day, in the shower, and it made me ache to make love to you. I’m going to make love to you to this song, and when it’s done, you can come with me. Okay?”
She nodded, unable to keep from staring as he smiled softly at her, his emotions for once visible. Lust mingled with something else, something she’d never seen, something that made her breath catch and her heart skip a beat. He cared. More than he wanted to admit.
He pushed play. Music filled her ears, one of her favorite songs that started slow and built at the chorus before it came to a crashing finish. Her pussy clenched with anticipation. Oh, yes, she’d love to make love to him to this song.
“Just lie still for this part,” he coaxed. He kissed her slowly, his mouth caressing, soft, just like the music, his hips marking time to the tempo, just as slow, soft. Her hips wanted to drive upward, to urge him on, but she followed his command, the stillness as erotic as if she’d rode him to oblivion.
The music began to build toward the first chorus, and she sucked in a breath, hoping he’d let her come early. Her forehead became damp as she concentrated, each breath designed to cool the flames he fed with each stroke. He pumped a little faster, and she answered, needing release.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “Be still.”
He dove in a little harder, faster, his cock stroking hot heat deep inside, in perfect time to the music. She bit her lip and fought the urge, one hand finding a light blanket on the back of the couch, the other fisted in his shirt. She wanted to clench those inner muscles and come, but she gritted her teeth and went to the periodic table again, starting at the bottom with the newer elements.
“Good girl,” he whispered as the music slowed. “You’re learning control, too. What are you thinking, to keep from coming?”
“That arsenic is an element on the periodic table.” She wanted to come more than she wanted to kill him, though.
“Shh. Listen.” He smiled again, his thrusts again slow, leisurely. He sang in her ear, the words so soft she almost missed them, his voice beautiful, just as she thought it would be. She’d never heard him sing, not even in the shower, when he was alone.
Then the music built again, and she held her breath, waiting, shaking, every pore in her skin on alert with need. The chorus would be sung twice. Would he let her go on the second? He pounded a little harder, the tempo building, his cock conducting heady music inside her wet heat.
“You ready, love?”
“Yes,”
“Come with me.”
The music thrashed around her as slammed her hips upward, meeting his, driving him harder. Their lips met, hard, needy, the kiss echoing the passion in the aching lyrics, the drive of the instruments. She sang in her mind, breathless to follow along, and when the singer hit that last, high note, she shattered like crystal vibrated under just the right frequency.
She dug her fingers into his ass, holding him deeper as the sound waves vibrated inside of her with each clench of her pussy walls. Her poor toes cramped, and her thighs ached as she held him, her stomach quivering as the pleasure died down, in time with the last strains of the music.
He collapsed on top of her, breathing like a dragon along her neck. He must have pushed stop, because the music ended instead of rolling to the next piece. And then he held her, his arms wrapping around her shoulders, his weight bearing down, pinning her, making her feel complete.
“Well?” he asked after a long time, when he could finally breathe somewhat normally.
“I’d rather listen to your playlists than Jake’s. He just has music to kick my ass to. Nothing as beautiful as this.”
“If you were Jake’s, he’d have a playlist to fuck you by.”
She blinked and looked up at him. He didn’t look jealous—just sated. Relaxed, yet in control. As if commanding her though the song, making her come on his direction had been enough to keep the control freak in him just as sated. “I would rather have your playlist.”
He smiled down at her, and the flicker he failed to hide in his eyes was something deeper than he’d ever shown. Something that made her feel that he cared desperately whose playlist she wanted to hear. “I can compromise. I know you like music. We could surf through and find a playlist we both like, for when the mood hits us.”
“I’d like that.” She shifted and realized she was damper than usual after sex. Maybe that’s why it felt so incredible. Different. “We didn’t use a condom.”
“No.”
“Do I need to worry?”
He hesitated. “No. I’ve never had sex without a condom before. My wife wanted to use them, so we always did. And I haven’t had sex in a long time. I’m clean.”
“How long?”
He looked at her then, and she watched emotions flicker, the truth dart back and forth as he batted it around. And then the mask fell and shut her out. “Longer than you think.”
He lowered his head and held her tighter. She wanted to press him because somehow, that truth was important to him. To her. She hesitated. Earlier he had wanted her to hate him, yet here they were, basking in the best lovemaking ever, talking about playlists to fuck by in the future.
It scared her. Deep inside, she sensed the last thing he wanted was for her to hate him. If she were to take a huge leap, across a canyon, she would conclude he wanted to love her, just as much as she wanted to love him.
Whatever drove him to such lengths, to make him beg her to hate him, had to be horrible. Maybe the devil was bent on destruction after all.