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“Breathe. You’re doing beautifully.”
My bratty personality almost took over, nasty words forming in my mind. I bit my inner cheek instead, trying to keep my composure.
Jameson delivered four more, one coming so quickly after the one before I didn’t have time to breathe. I hadn’t been prepared for the surge of wetness between my legs, my muscles clenching as if his glorious cock had already been shoved inside.
I took several gasping breaths, wiggling against the pillow until I was able to create friction on my clit. The next four strikes I concentrated on the sound more than anything, even while the rush of pain turned into a moment of anguish.
I was wet and hot, the scent of my desire stronger than before. He pressed his hand against my back again and I could easily tell his breathing was heavier than before. The crazy sensations only continued to build until I was lightheaded.
Then he started another round, bringing the thick strap down at least six times. I was no longer thinking clearly, allowing the savagery of his actions to help me drift into a peaceful place. There were no ugly memories, no fears that his actions would turn abusive. He was a different man and this was a new life.
When he placed the belt on the bed beside me, I took several shallow breaths. I wasn’t surprised when he gathered me into his arms, holding me tightly against him. Nor was I shocked by his whispered words as he lifted my chin, first kissing my lips before sliding them to my ear.
“You’re my perfect baby girl and you are all mine.”
CHAPTER18
Jameson
The effect of human touch was incredible. I’d felt that my entire life, but having Alexandra in my arms, I understood the breathtaking moment where two people who’d collided together were close to being one. There was a significant chance I was blowing what we shared out of proportion, but I didn’t subscribe to anything others would consider normal. Maybe it was because of my chosen way of life or the fact I hadn’t been involved with anyone for so long.
My long hours prevented me from indulging in normal activities such as boating or reading. I wasn’t the guy who wanted to spend time with other dudes talking sports and drinking beer, even if my background had been all about sports. What I wanted precluded most terms of dating no matter how I tried to disguise it.
Alexandra had become a beautiful yet disastrous reminder of everything I hadn’t allowed myself to experience.
A home with a family.
Dinners out with friends.
Date nights that didn’t involve handcuffs.
As she pushed away from me, I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed with her, but even the lights and atmosphere of Paris couldn’t hide the reason for my trip. I’d spoken with Dumas twice, insisting on a meeting. He hadn’t been charged with anything and he’d insisted that the authorities were on a fishing expedition, although he hadn’t wanted to talk over the phone.
Between the mess in my own club as well as this, I remained on edge. I’d had years of unrest followed by others with no instances in the club and no reason to toss anyone to the curb. What I’d learned over the years was that everything has a progression, including the merciless criminals who huffed and puffed until they got their way. They’d be destroyed by another powerful predator only to make a resurgence at a later time.
It was an inevitable, vicious cycle that every large, diverse city had gone through. LA and DC weren’t any different. And in truth, I’d grown weary of the games people played.
If the Bratva and the cartel wanted to duel in the streets, I couldn’t care less, at least until it was brought inside my club. It would seem I didn’t have the ability to shut them out this time.
My mind continued to process the information, but I had a feeling the issues with the Paris club was all about revenge. Every city had what was called an Old Boys’ Network, men who originally controlled everything that went on. Over time, it morphed into allowing women into the fold, but few and far between. If anyone truly believed mafia organizations were in control, they’d be wrong. There were others even more powerful that used the crime syndicates to do their dirty work.
Carnal Sins had come into focus with the elimination of one of the key players—Marshall Winston. It didn’t matter he’d been dirty, committing white collar crimes for years. He’d been beloved because he could manipulate power whatever way he wanted.
“What now, sir?” she asked, her voice still breathless.
“Now, we dress for our meeting and the night afterward.”
“And where are we going?”
“A club in the heart of Paris.”
“A BDSM club?” she asked. The way her eyelashes skimmed across her cheeks was entirely too sexy. My cock was already completely aroused, enough so I doubted we’d make it to dinner before I took her again.
I rolled my fingers down her arm, crawling my hand under her blouse to squeeze her nipple. “Yes, my beautiful submissive.” Her slight moan was a sinful reward. “You will stay very close tonight.” I lifted my index finger when she gave me a pouty look. “If you’re good, we might find time to play.”
“I’m always good.”
“If only that were true. I am serious about staying with me. The clubs in Paris are entirely different.”
