"I'm telling you, it's that redheaded slut's fault," Seth insisted.
Fenton seethed, ready to lash out at the man for being such a fucking idiot. They'd been called in to meet with Andres Moreno, the owner of the club and main point of contact with the kingpin who distributed the cocaine to the club, after a major deal had been interrupted by the police.
The deal itself was kept away from the club, and for now, Umbra and its dual-purpose staff were still safe. Not that Kevin was much comforted by this, considering the fact that it was his job to collect the intel to take down Moreno and the kingpin alike, and that little police sting had put his entire operation at risk.
"Who?" Andres asked, his eyes narrowing onto Fenton.
"Seth, here tried to pick up this sub a couple weeks ago," Fenton explained, his tone patronizing. "She wasn't interested, and he apparently can't take a bit of rejection." He couldn't quite write it off as a coincidence that after Alexis started attending the club, their operation was hit with police presence. But Fenton couldn't quite parse how Alexis would have gotten ahold of that privileged information in the first place.
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"
"It doesn't. That's my point," Fenton explained.
Seth shook his head. "She's been snooping around here. She's up to something. Maybe she's a cop."
Fenton credited himself with all the years of undercover work that he was able to maintain his composure, despite how close the idiot had come to guessing the truth.
He licked his lips and cocked his head to the side. "She's been looking for a dom."
Seth shook his head. "No, she's been a tease and—"
"Is it really so hard to fathom a woman not fawning over you?"
"She's been a tease to everyone."
"Not me." Fenton turned to Moreno. "Sir, I'll see what I can find out about this leak. A real lead." The disdain in his tone made it clear what he thought about Seth's lead.
Moreno stood, buttoning his suit jacket. "You see that you do that. I want this problem solved, O'Connell."
"Yes, sir."
Moreno left and Fenton stood to follow him out. They only made it out onto the hallway outside the office before Seth's hand landed on his shoulder, and Fenton shrugged it off with a barely suppressed snarl.
"You think she's not up to something? Her pussy's that good, huh?"
"She's mine," he hissed at the man. "And she's just a sub. Nothing more."
Seth gestured down to the floor, where Alexis was perched at the bar, talking with Tessa. Another man took a seat next to her, reaching out to twirl a strand of her hair between his fingers. "Doesn't look like she's yours."
Fenton gritted his teeth. "That will be remedied."
"It better be." Seth left with a sour look on his face.
Fenton took a moment to compose himself before stalking down to the floor. She wasn't supposed to enter the club without him. She fucking knew better.
His pace increased, his mood souring as he reached the redhead at the bar.
"—long have you been coming here?" he heard Alexis ask before his fingers wrapped around her upper arm.
"Hey, gorgeous," he whispered in her ear. She jolted, then froze. "Ditch this idiot and meet me outside my office."
She turned to look him in the eye. "But—"
His hand let go of her arm and swatted her ass. "Now, pretty girl."
She let out an adorable little yelp when his hand made contact with her ass. She had no idea what she was in for if something like that was enough to set her on edge.
He tilted his head to the Dom she'd been speaking to. "She's taken." He turned to Tessa. "Glass of water, please."
Hiding a smirk, the dominatrix passed his glass over and he took his time sipping it down. He was in charge here. Not Alexis. It was time she learned that valuable lesson.
Sometime later, Fenton rounded the corner to find Alexis waiting outside his office like he'd told her to. She didn't appear pleased with his show of dominance down on the floor Fierce, determined. And more than a little pissed off. Her delicious mouth was pressed into a flat line, and her delicate chin was lifted in defiance.
Since that first scene when he'd been blown away by her responsiveness, by the trust she'd showed him after a year of living like a nun, their chemistry had only intensified. They'd had a few scenes together since that night, and he'd been careful to keep towing that line between playing and possessing.
But standing in front of her, taking in the waves of anger radiating off of her body, he found that he didn't care about that line anymore. He didn't give a shit if she was angry. She was still his to protect. His to care for. His. She was his fucking sub, attitude or not, liability or not, and it was time she learned that.
Drawing himself up to his full height, he prowled the rest of the short distance between them, maintaining eye contact we each step. Something flickered in her deep blue eyes, and she shifted on her feet. Apprehension? More anger? She bit her lip as she watched him approach, no doubt sensing the fury radiating off of him in waves. Fuck. She was so damn responsive. Why did she have to be so perfect?
All he wanted to do was trap her against the wall and take her in hand, teasing her until she trembled in his arms and begged for release. Good things to those who wait.
He tore his gaze from her and unlocked the playroom, careful not to allow his body to brush against hers as he entered.. "Come," he commanded her to follow him, his tone clipped from the strain of controlling his fury and his carnal urges. She straightened her shoulders and strode into the room after him.
He closed the door behind her with a sharp snap, and she jolted at the sound. Good. He wanted to leave her rattled, on edge. She was putting on a brave front, petulant and willful as always. She hadn't liked the way he'd claimed her down on the floor, in front of all the other patrons, in front of the shitheads who had dared to assume that Fenton didn't have complete control over her, over the situation. Over the shitshow that was threatening to unfold beneath his feet.
The worst part was, Fenton thought they might be right.
"What the hell was that about?" Alexis demanded. "I never agreed to that, Fenton. I never asked for the macho he-man act."
"You know the rules," he told her coolly. "You know you're not to set foot in the club without me."
"I waited for you," she insisted hotly. "I followed your stupid rules, and you didn't show up. I wasn't going to wait around outside all night."
His teeth gritted together. While she'd been waiting for him, he'd been getting his ass chewed by the boss, dealing with the fallout of a police bust that he'd had no part of. He was supposed to be in control of this situation. If the NYPD was involved with the drugs in the club, it was supposed to be through him, not some mysterious source.
Was it Alexis? As far as he knew, she was still with the NYPD. She'd seen that woman trying to who're herself out for drugs. She'd spent far more time in the club than Fenton was comfortable with. Christ, he'd taken her on as a sub to protect her and to protect his assignment. Now they were both in danger.
"What were you taking to that other Dom about anyway?"
"Nothing! Just small talk. He wanted to play. I told him I was waiting for someone."
"You didn't tell him you were mine."
"Because I'm not!"she burst out. "Just because we've had a few scenes—"
His hands closed around her shoulders. "As long as you're in this club, you're mine."
She knocked his hands away.. "What is your problem?"
He wanted to unload on her, to ask her if she'd been involved in the bust. He wanted to ask her, for the millionth time, what she was even doing hanging out in the club all the time. What was she looking for? Was it really him? Or was he just the means to an end?
But he couldn't let those questions out, couldn't drag her any deeper into his mess. So he settled for a different kind of truth.
"I don't want to see you hurt again."
Her gaze softened a bit. "I'm not hurt."
His fingers threaded into her hair at either side of her head, applying firm pressure as he tugged. She had no choice but to look up into his eyes as he questioned her. "You could have been. You have been already."
He watched her pupils dilate at the pressure. She bit her lip. "You don't have to worry about me."
"You don't have to risk yourself," he replied fiercely. "And if this is gonna work, you need to learn to actually listen to me."
"I am."
"No. You're. Not." He bit out each word, and his grip on her hair tightened enough to pass gentle pressure and into the beginning of pain. "I've let you play here, experiment safely. You've dipped your toes in. And if you want to keep it up, you need to listen. You need to follow my rules even when it's not convenient." He leaned close so he could whisper in her ear. "As long as you're in this place, you belong to me. Body and mind. You understand me? And if you don't like it. You can go somewhere else. That's the deal."
After spending what seemed like an eternity in deliberation, her eyes fell to the floor. "Okay."
His hand slid to the back of her head, yanking her hair back so they were nose to nose. His mouth hovered over hers, and her breath hitched.
"Say it," he growled.
"I'll follow your orders, sir."
His grip eased, and he brushed his lips over her forehead in a surprisingly affectionate gesture. "Good girl."
Her pupils dilated at the praise.
"Now, say you're mine."
Something like pain flashed in those baby blues. "I can't."
"What are you afraid of?" he asked. She didn't answer.
He frowned. "We'll work on that. I'd planned on starting some light impact play tonight, but I think we'll have to try something else."
"What?" she asked.
"I've got to make sure this lesson sticks, pretty girl."
Fenton took her hand and pulled her over to the mattress, where most of their play sessions had been. Nerves fluttered in her stomach as he quickly unlaced her corset top and pulled her skirt down her hips. He'd gotten used to undressing her through their sessions and she'd gotten used to allowing him to do so. He placed her clothes and shoes on the armchair and turned to face her. She'd chosen special black lace panties and bra for their session tonight, along with matching thigh highs. If the hungry look he gave her was any indication, he approved of her choice.
"What are you going to do to me?" Alexis asked as he stalked towards her.
"Discipline you," he answered shortly. "It's time you understand who's in charge here."
Alexis gulped. She'd seen discipline scenes before: spanking, flogging, whipping, caning—none of which had looked enjoyable to the sub involved. She didn't think she'd particularly enjoy that kind of attention, either.
He gripped her shoulders. "Turn around. Put your arms behind your back, and wait for me."
She followed his instruction, watching like a hawk as he began digging through drawers for supplies. He returned with a length of rope, a metal bar with cuffs on each end, and her blindfold. He'd made her wear the blindfold for every scene thus far. "What's all that for?"
"I'm going to restrain you again. And then I'm going to spank you. You have your safeword if anything becomes too much."
She nodded, biting her lip as he began looping the rope around her arms, shoulders, and torso to create a sort of harness. He threaded the rope between her breasts and back into a loop on her back, connected to matching loops for each of her wrists. Then Fenton pulled the rope tight, and Alexis gasped as pressure wrapped around her arms and around each of her breasts. She couldn't move her hands or arms. Sensation slowly increased as she felt the blood begin to pool in her breasts, and even the air seemed to tease her through the fabric of her bra.
"You like that, pretty girl?" he taunted her, reaching for the bar. "You're gonna love this."
He dropped it behind her feet. "Spread your legs."
As she followed his instruction, he pulled her stance wider, spreading her legs until she could feel cool air between her folds. Heat pooled in her belly, intensifying with the tingling pressure on her breasts. He secured a soft leather cuff to each ankle, keeping her legs spread at that distance.
"How's that feel?" he asked, stroking her leg as he stood behind her.
"Very secure," she breathed.
"You have no idea," he promised darkly. He secured the blindfold over her eyes, then used the harness to manhandle her torso onto the mattress. Her feet were firmly planted on the floor, the spreader bar keeping them apart. Folded at the waist as she was, her ass stuck in the arm, easily accessible for Fenton's use. The rest of her body was thoroughly restrained, unable to get in the way of his plans.
His fingertips traced over the curve of her ass and he tugged at her panties so more of her skin was exposed. "You look to die for right now." He gave her ass a light, playful smack and she gasped. His tone turned even darker. "Oh, pretty girl, this is going to be so much fun."
He stood next to her, one hand on her ass, and his other hand slid around her front. His fingers gripped her pussy through the material of her panties, and his palm ground against her clit. Alexis tensed. He'd never touched her pussy before.
"What's your safeword?" he asked.
"Red."
"Do you want to use it?"
She took a deep breath. "No"
"Good girl." He ground his palm against her clit in reward. "I'm going to spank you now, pretty girl. Try to enjoy yourself."
The first blow against her ass sent her on her toes, and her pelvis rubbed against the palm of his hand. Light pain flashed through her, followed by a dose of heavy pleasure. Her whimper turned to a moan.
"There's something you need to understand, pretty girl," Fenton said, his voice like silk. "As long as you're here in this club, you belong to me. You are all mine."
Another three smacks landed in quick succession, and once again, that delicious friction was there to soften the blow, to wind her up and despite the nature of the discipline, leave her wanting more.
"Do you understand?" he asked, curling the tips of his fingers into her folds, though her panties remained in the way. She gasped and wriggled against the gesture, earning herself more delicious sensation.
Two more smacks found a home on her ass. "I want an answer, pretty girl."
Alexis was panting, heat and sharp pain radiating from her ass, her clit pulsing hungrily, her breasts deliciously sensitive, lust smothering her awareness to almost everything except Fenton's assault on her senses. "I understand."
Three more strikes on her ass; three more doses of pleasure-pain. "Address me properly."
"I-I understand, sir." Alexis moaned. God she needed to come. She'd never felt so wound up in her life.
"Tell me you're mine," he demanded.
She shook her head, and Fenton laughed darkly. "Careful, pretty girl, I'm going to think you like this."
She shook her head again, and whined when Fenton's hand left her folds. "Your pretty little pussy has soaked my hand, gorgeous. I think you like it a little bit."
"No," she insisted, squeaking when his palm lightly smacked her swollen folds. Sensation lit up her clit, and she yelped when another smack landed, much harder, against her ass.
"Say it," he growled.
"No—" A moan tore from her throat as his palm smacked her pussy once, twice, thrice. One more and she'd come. One more. One more—
"If you come without permission, I will paint your ass to match your hair, gorgeous," he warned. He gripped her ass hard and tangled a fist in her hair, tugging her head off the mattress. "Say it, and I'll give you a nice reward."
She shook her head, and Fenton let her face fall back to the mattress. "Wrong answer."
Alexis lost track of time, lost track of the number of times Fenton spanked her, the number of times he soothed her inflamed skin by torturing her with pleasure, pushing her closer and closer to a line that he wouldn't let her cross.
"Please!" she whined, rubbing her swollen breasts against the mattress. Her ass was on fire, and she thought she'd burn up from wanting.
"Say it!" His hand slipped beneath her panties to swirl her wetness around her engorged clit. He ground his erection against her ass as he did so, the cotton of his slacks dragging against her skin like sandpaper. She wasn't the only one in need of a release.
She moaned, thrashing her head back and forth. It was the only part of her body she could move.
Fenton fisted her hair again, dragging her up against his body, rutting his cock against her abused flesh. He pinched her clit, and stars burst in her vision.
"Say. It."
"I-I'm y-yours," she gasped, almost sobbing with need. "I'm yours, Mr. O'Connell. I'm yours."
Two fingers slid inside deep inside her, fingertips brushing against her g-spot, she groaned at the unfamiliar intrusion, at her muscles stretching to accommodate his digits. His palm ground against her swollen clit. "Come for me," he snarled in her ear.
It took only a few seconds of his fingers pumping into her slick channel, his palm stimulating that little bundle of nerves, and white spot erupted in her vision as she clamped down on him, milking his fingers for all they were worth as pleasure glutted her senses.
His fingers fucked her through each wave, drawing out her pleasure till she was boneless on the edge of the mattress.
His fingers slipped out of her, leaving her feeling empty, and she felt him grip her panties and tear them open, making her more accessible for his use. She heard a buckle being undone and a zipper unfurling.
Red flags began popping up in her hazy mind. "Fenton.."
"All fucking mine," he promised. He dragged her closer to the edge of the bed by the rope harness, pulling her hips up. She felt his cock against her inner thigh, then rubbing between her swollen, wet folds, stimulating her clit.
She moaned at the sensation, a fresh wave of lust pumping through her. His pants brushed against her reddened, hot skin, and he pulled her up to stand, her back against his chest, his hard and leaking cock still teasing through her folds, every so often bumping her clit and sending little shocks of pleasure through her.
"If you weren't tied up," he groaned in her ear, "I'd watch you touch yourself. Get that sweet pussy all wet and slick."
"Fuck," she moaned, his voice sending her to new heights.
"Dirty mouth, gorgeous. Maybe we should keep it occupied." His fingers, the same fingers that were still wet with her slick, pressed against her lips. "Clean them up."
Her lips parted, and he slid his fingers in and out of her mouth, over her tongue just like she imagined his cock would be. She moaned at the salty flavor of herself.
His free hand brushed over her blood-filled breasts, teasing her over-sensitive nipples through her bra. She was going to come again if he kept this up.
As if reading her mind, he sped up his hips. She was so wet there was plenty of lubricant for his cock to tease her. Fenton angled his hips just the slightest bit, so the head of his cock caught on her opening just a bit with every thrust.
Alexis moaned again, and she cried out when he nipped at her earlobe, burying his face in her neck and whispering how good she felt.
He felt good, too. Hard and smooth and much bigger than she'd expected. He bumped her clit again, and stars appeared in her eyes.
"You gonna come for me again, pretty girl?" He rasped in her ear, his voice stuttering from suppressed pleasure.
She wanted to come. But that warning pressed in the back of her mind. Some reason this wasn't a good idea. Some reason that they were playing with fire…
"Fuck," he groaned, palming her breast, his sloppy fingers still heavy on her tongue. His teeth dragged over her shoulder. "Fuck, I can't…. I can't…" his fingers slipped from her mouth and he pinched her swollen nipples hard.
She whined, bucking her hips back, feeling like she was about to combust. His cock snagged on her opening again before sliding against her clit so perfectly her toes curled.
With a snarl, Fenton gripped her hips and lifted her against him. His cockhead speared into her opening, the brutality of it blurring pleasure and pain as she struggled to accommodate him.
Alexis cried out, sirens going off in her head, the sudden intrusion shattering the lust-filled haze around her. She jerked against her restraints, the rope harness and spreader bar doing nothing to protect her vulnerable body. "Fenton—"
Fenton's fingers slid over her clit, adding a fresh dose of pleasure to the onslaught. "You can take me," he assured her. She shuddered her body going haywire, relaxing into the pleasure, tensing from the pain, and she felt him slip another inch inside her.
She shook her head back and forth, thrashing against her restraints. There wasn't enough air in the room. She gasped. "No. No. Red. Red!"
He swore and pulled out of her. She already felt sore. She heard his zipper pull back up and felt him release her from the spreader bar. She closed her legs, feeling overexposed in only her bra. He made quick work of the harness, and she whined as blood flowed out of her swollen breasts. He flipped her over to face him, hugging her against his chest, and the blindfold came off last.
"I'm sorry," he blurted out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." His hands slipped over her shoulders, down her arms, back up to her face. "Are you okay? Tell me you're alright."
His panic strangely eased her own. He stopped. He didn't hurt her. Even lost to his own desire, even partially inside her, he'd stopped when she'd asked him.
"I'm okay." She wrapped her arms around him, hiding her face in his neck, trying to suppress the residual adrenaline pumping through her veins. She trembled against him, feeling cold.
"Here." He stepped away, and she wrapped her arms around herself, feeling overexposed. His fingers undid the buttons on his shirt, tugging it off of himself, and he slid her arms into the sleeves and settled it over her shoulders, buttoning it closed. The hem of the shirt hit her thighs, and she felt much more covered. His masculine scent wafted up from the shirt, wrapping around her. He cupped her face in his hands. "Did I hurt you? Be honest."
She bit her lip. "A little. I, um.." Heat spread over her cheekbones. "You're big."
His mouth twitched, and she saw warmth in his brown eyes, but he didn't smile. "I'm so sorry. I just… lost control."
"You stopped when I asked," she said softly. Her eyes were drawn to his bare chest. It was the first time seeing him in any state of undress. His arms and torso were ridged with muscle and lightly tanned skin. A line of hair trailed down from his belly button, disappearing beneath his slacks. Heat darkened her cheeks as she considered what he hid beneath the pressed cotton, and her eyes skittered back up to his chest, stopping at a swirl of black ink that peeked out from his shoulder.
"You have a tattoo?" she asked.
"Surprised?"
"What is it?"
He turned around, allowing her to examine the intricate design that swirled over his shoulder and trailed down his back. She realized the mark began at his spine and ended at his heart. It was beautiful and haunting. Masculine in design, and somehow vulnerable. Alexis felt that she was seeing something very personal.
"It's a reminder," he explained.
"Of what?" Her fingertips pressed against the mark.
"A mistake I don't ever want to make again," he said simply. He turned to face her, catching his hand in hers and pressing a kiss to her fingertips. "I'd like to give you aftercare, if you'll let me."
She nodded, touched by how humbled he'd become by his mistake. "Please."
He led her back to the mattress, toeing off his shoes and laying beside her. He stroked her hair away from her neck, gently massaging any residual soreness from her arms and shoulders.
Then his weight lifted from the bed as he retrieved more soothing cream. He worked it into her red, sensitive skin, still heated from the spanking, and massaged from her lower back down to her toes. He seemed to be extra penitent, trying to be thorough and gentle and soothing as was possible.
When he finished, Fenton drew her into his arms, draping her body over his. She nuzzled into his neck, feeling totally relaxed and at peace with the world.
"Thank you," she whispered. He kissed the crown of her head in response.
Alexis knew that eventually they'd have to talk about what had happened. When they'd started playing together,she'd never imagined anything like this. She'd have to figure out whether it was good or bad that they'd almost had sex and she still felt okay with him. Even though she barely knew him. Even though he was a criminal she was supposed to be using for information.
And even more daunting, she'd have to ask herself what sort of boundaries she really wanted with Fenton O'Connell.