Disciplining the Beast: Taming the Beast, Book 5 (11 page)

“Not for a long time. I’ll let you know.”

He nodded and scooted away.

Rafael unclasped the chains around her hips, removed the phallus and buried his cock in her tightest opening.

She shivered and made a satisfied noise.

Her heat and snug fit astonished so much, he roared without realizing he would, lost to pleasure and his endless hope for their future.

Here and now, anything seemed possible. He wasn’t asking for limitless power, cruel revenge, or all the riches in the world, simply time with her. Such a small request. A chance to be happy, loved, cherished and to give the same, honoring her through eternity.

How could anyone deny them that or think this was wrong? Intolerance was for mortals, not angels, right?

He wanted to be sure but wasn’t, his uncertainty stoking his impossible need. Groaning, he worked her clit and thrust with unparalleled desire, forcing them to the edge, pushing them past resistance.

She tumbled first, her sweet cries exciting and soothing, making him feel worthy. His bellow rumbled through the room. Together they descended. This time, she laced her fingers through his, keeping him close and inside.

Where he belonged.

Their contented silence grew. Muffled coughs and murmurs sounded from the audience. Someone padded closer. Rafael bit back his frustration and opened one eye.

The same server lifted his shoulders. “Is it over now?”

Never. Rafael squeezed her fingers. “Everyone out.”

“Excuse me?”

“Beat it. Now.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Wait.” Rafael lifted his head. “After everyone leaves, bring us every entrée on your menu along with milk for me and whatever the lady wants to drink.” He brushed his lips over her cheek. “What would you like?”

She turned her face into his and pressed her mouth to his ear. “For you to order something harder than milk. Keep up the pretense.”

He knew what she meant but didn’t like her thinking this had been nothing more than a game to him, rather than the most memorable evening he’d known. “What do you suggest?”

“Beer, at least. Alcoholic, but won’t knock you on your ass. I’ll have a liter of vodka.”

He turned to the server. “Two liters of vodka along with the other stuff I ordered.”

“Right away.” The server turned to the crowd and clapped his hands. “Show’s over. Please file out peacefully. The chariot races will begin in fifteen.”

The guys hooted and pumped their fists.

Rafael pressed his mouth to her ear. “Chariot races?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Maybe he would, though he didn’t ask. Her squirms convinced him to stop leaning on her and to pull out.

Sprawled on the table, she rested her arm over her eyes. He sank to his knees and stroked her leg. “Sleepy?”

Despite his triple X-rated orgasm, he’d never been as alert.

She kept her eyes covered, face turned away. “Give me a sec and I’ll be ready for the horse, then a cane, whip, or whatever you want to use.”

“Is that what you want to do? Is that what you want from me?”

She sighed. “You’re the Dom here. Your choice.”

“Pretend I’m not your Master and that we’re friends who can be straight with each other.”

“Not how this works.”

His gut clenched. After the fun they’d had and what they’d shared in here, he’d expected her to be open, not push him away again. “I don’t care how this is supposed to play out. It’s nothing more than a vacation from reality.”

“It’s who I am.”

“Bull, you’re more than this.”

She rolled away. He stood and brought her back, his face above hers. “Look at me.”

“No.”

“Hon, I’m not asking, I’m telling you as your Dom.”

“Now you want to role play?”

“Please?”

Sorrow brimmed in her eyes. What looked like a whole lot of love too.

He stroked her cheek. “I’m not giving up on you, and I’m not going to let you give up on me.”

“You don’t get the final vote.”

“Maybe not, but I hoped to swing you to my side.”

She laughed softly. “I meant, your superiors won’t let us happen.”

“Do you want us to?”

Her lower lip trembled.

She did. “I’ll figure something out. As long as I post regular reports and don’t make any waves, they’ll leave me alone. They’ll never have to know about us.”

“Until they notice you’re not whizzing home any longer for your body cavity searches.”

“I’ll tell them I have too much work down here to leave.”

“How long will they believe that?”

Forever, he hoped. “I’ll work it out.”

“Great, but what if they want details. You’re incapable of lying.”

“I can learn.”

“No.” She gripped his arms. “I don’t want you changing for me, to become a lesser angel.”

“Protecting you and us is the right thing to do. It’s not a crime.”

“Not yet, but it will be. What happens when I’m off parole? Even someone as rotten as I am can’t be on it forever. They’ll reassign you to someone else. Possibly to another universe. What then?”

“I’ll have a plan for us to stay together. Everything will be all right.”

“But—”

“Shh.” He rested his finger on her lips. “We’ll talk about this later.” He inclined his head to the footfalls in the hall. “Sounds like our food’s here.”

She grabbed his wrist, bit his finger lightly, and then pulled it away. “Good. I could use some booze. Make that a lot. I want to get hammered.”

“You need to stop worrying.”

Chapter Eleven

Wynona had to hand it to Rafael. He was way more optimistic than her when it came to their uncertain future. He ate with abandon while she picked at her food with the enthusiasm of a death-row inmate faced with his last meal.

“You have to try these. Wow.” He chomped on a rib slathered with barbeque sauce, his lips coated with the stuff.

Their carnal play had mussed his hair, and the dark locks spilled over his forehead and shoulders. Stubble dusted his upper lip, cheeks, and chin. A woman with far more self-control than she had could still get lost in his eyes, the heavenly blue spectacular. His strong features weren’t simply sexy, they were kind too.

If he and she had been mortal and married, Wynona would have wished for a little boy with his looks and capacity for sweet grace.

She fingered sauce from his bottom lip and sucked the stuff off her thumb. “When you were alive, did you ever hope for children of your own?”

He washed down the barbeque with a shot of vodka and shivered. “Gah, that sucks. How can you stand it?”

“Wait ’til the warmth hits.”

He looked at her dumbly then breathed in and smiled. “Whoa. Like liquid sunshine rolling through you.”

Exactly.

He took another hit of booze, grimaced, then sighed. “When I was alive, I mainly focused on staying that way. Building a family wasn’t in the picture. For a time, I considered my mistress might get pregnant because of our afternoon sessions. Never happened. Either she’d gone barren after having two kids or I was shooting blanks.”

Wynona touched his hand. “Impossible. You’re perfect.”

He smiled self-consciously, his mouth orange from the sauce. “I want to believe I was merciful. Hard to do when people are treating you like crap and you’re hungry most of the time, but there was this boy…”

He shook his head.

“What?” She slipped her fingers beneath his chin and lifted his face so he had to look at her. “Tell me about him.”

He pressed his lips to her palm and folded her hand in his. “He was lame, his left foot deformed. How he survived as long as he did was a miracle.” Rafael smiled. “He was a scrappy little guy, probably twelve, though he looked years younger being so small and thin. He went through everyone’s trash for stuff to eat. Annoyed the hell out of my master and mistress. They didn’t like to see anything imperfect or dirty. Shook their worldview, I suppose. No matter how many times they had their guards smack the boy around to get him to leave, he came right back. Hunger does that to a person. My master finally decided to put poison on the food scraps, get rid of the kid for good. No muss, no fuss, no blood, just a body to dispose of.”

She pressed her hand to her chest. “That’s the most horrible thing I’ve heard in a long time, and I’ve heard plenty.”

“Back then, some would have said my master was acting humanely. The boy had no future. In time, he would have starved. I offered to hide the poisoned food in the trash.”

“What? No. You couldn’t have.”

“I did. If I hadn’t, someone else would have. I fed it to the vermin. When the boy showed up, as he always did, I warned him about the poison and gave him food I’d squirreled away from my meals. I told him where the untainted stuff would be in the future and not to touch anything except what I’d be leaving.”

“But you were hungry too.”

“All the time, but I couldn’t let the boy suffer.”

“Oh my God, you saved his life.” She threw her arms around him.

He hugged her tenderly. “I did what I could until I drowned.”

Crap, she’d forgotten about that. “Only because you were saving those other kids. Probably snotty little fuckers like their father. You’re a saint.”

“Naw. I didn’t volunteer to have lions tear me apart during the games because of my beliefs. Those were the brave souls, not me.”

“Bull. You would have done so to save that kid or others.”

“Maybe.”

Definitely. “Do you think the boy survived?”

“Dunno. I’ve always liked to think he did, but I do tend to be a dreamer.”

Tell her about it, especially concerning their situation. She pressed her face against his neck.

“Ah, folks?”

The server with the cock extender was back.

Wynona sighed. “Someone else wants to use the room?”

“In about ten, sorry, we’re really swamped tonight. Before you take off, would you two care for a photo to commemorate your visit to the Double B?”

Why not? The picture might be all she’d have left of Rafael once his incurable optimism hit the unforgiving wall of their reality. She searched his beautiful face, loving him more than she believed possible. “I’d like to. Do you mind?”

“It’ll be fun.”

Once the server had removed the phalluses from the saddle, she and Rafael posed on the horse together, each brandishing a liter of vodka, grinning for the camera. They laughed themselves breathless and kissed until she was weak.

He wrapped her in his cape and escorted her from the club, his arm around her protectively rather than possessively. Although being a submissive was nice, she had to admit this was better.

At the door, Yardley greeted them with a broad grin, taking in their sappy smiles and the booze they carried. “Do I have to ask if you two had a good time?”

Rafael hugged her. “It was the freaking best. Thanks. First thing tomorrow, I’m subscribing to your newsletter. Looking forward to info on your upcoming releases.”

“If you could leave a review on my site for those you’ve seen, I’d be forever grateful.”

“You bet.”

“Have a good one.”

Wynona’s glow lasted until she and Rafael got outside. Given that the club was truly in the middle of nowhere, they couldn’t hop in a cab, plane, or train to get back to her place. Walking was out of the question too. His wings were the only way to go.

Maybe if she didn’t look, she could keep the fantasy alive a little longer.

The swish of his unfurling wings was too much to resist, though she wished she had.

He rubbed her back. “It’s all right.”

Not even close. His feathers were solid black, possibly darker than hers. “You’re screwed.”

“Actually, I’m thrilled. A couple of times tonight, my back twitched really bad. I thought my feathers might have dissolved or fallen off, but they’re good to go.” He plucked at one. The thing didn’t budge. “Same as always.”

“They’re supposed to be white. They may never be that way again.”

“I don’t care.” He gathered her to him. “I’m not going to let anything ruin our evening. Next stop, our place.”

She should have corrected him on that
our
but couldn’t. From now until their hopes circled the drain, they were roomies. Wynona predicted their new arrangement would last for five days tops, maybe six before his superiors found out and came down hard.

Back in her apartment, she uncapped the vodka. Rafael took the bottle from her, placed it and his on the counter, along with their pictures from the club. “We don’t need booze to have fun.”

True, but getting smashed would take the edge off her worry. “By fun do you mean vanilla, BDSM, or the kind that tests your skill and restraint?”

Interest sparked in his gorgeous eyes. “You tell me.”

“Ever play strip poker?”

“Not even the regular kind. I did see
The Cincinnati Kid
and
Rounders.
”

“You’re a real film buff, huh?”

“Never had much to do after work until I met you.”

Good answer. Their non-future bummed Wynona enough without her having to be jealous of his time with Ursula. “Want to play?”

“Sure. I take it in strip poker we bet our clothes rather than chips.”

“That’s right.”

“How’s that going to work here? You’re already naked except for your boots, stockings, nipple rings, collar, and the bauble in your belly. I’m nearly there too.” He gestured to his well-ventilated tights.

“We can play reverse strip poker. Whoever loses has to put on a piece of clothing.”

“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

“Not if you want to stay nude or nearly so. An incentive to win.”

“Or lose. I don’t mind covering up, but when it comes to you…” He smiled. “I like the way you are now, so I don’t mind losing to you at all.”

“Okay, whoever wins has to put on a piece of clothing.”

“Or throw the game.”

He was too logical. “Fine. New rule. Whoever loses not only has to cover up but gives up an orgasm to the winner.”

“Think you could manage losing a climax?”

“Think you could?”

“What kind of poker are we playing here, other than reverse strip? Texas Hold’em, 7-card stud, 5-card draw, Omaha?”

She frowned. “You said you’ve never played.”

“Haven’t. But I’ve had a lot of time to read up on the various games. Change your mind?” He leaned in. “Chicken?”

Wynona elbowed him away. “You choose. I’ll beat your socks off.”

“My tights will do. Want to be ready for all those orgasms you’ll owe me.”

She needed to wean Rafael from his bullheaded desire for her. After she denied him sex for a few weeks, he might turn his sights to a good angel. Not Ursula though. That would be too much to stomach. Another woman, unknown to Wynona, who would coax out his inherent decency, giving his wings a chance to revert to their original color.

Yeah, right. Pollyanna had nothing on her.

The cards and oaths flew, most of the obscenities coming from him. He lost the first game and put on his cape. After his second loss, he ran out of his own clothes.

Wynona offered him her daintiest bra.

He grabbed a whip from her collection. “This matches my outfit.”

“Play.”

He lost the third game too and glared. “You’re cheating.”

“If that’s what you want to call being skilled, go ahead. Hurt my feelings.”

“I’ll apologize as soon as I do. I left my regular clothes at the service. Give me a sec to get them.”

She gestured him back into the chair and again handed over her bra. “I’d rather you wear this.”

“No.”

“Chicken?”

He put it on his head and tied the straps under his chin like a bonnet. “Satisfied?”

She laughed. He did too, scooped her from the chair, and kissed her hard. When they came up for air, he pressed his cheek to hers. “Game’s over.”

He carried her to the bed.

As far as she was concerned, their play had only begun. Their boots clunked on the floor. She ripped off his tights. He did the same with her stockings and also removed her collar but left her body jewelry in place and pulled her down to the mattress.

She shot back up. “No vanilla, not yet. Stay where you are.” She turned her back to him, straddled his lean hips and slid down until his sex was hers to feast on and hers was his for the taking.

They not only indulged, they wallowed in pleasure, bringing each other joy well into the afternoon.

* * * * *

Rafael couldn’t stop smiling. He didn’t walk, he floated. If he lived past forever, he’d never forget these days or understand mortals’ preoccupation with or their desire for the great beyond. They already had so much on earth by simply being alive. A chance to smell the morning air, see the sun rise, marvel at the endless bounty. Mostly, they had an opportunity to love, the greatest gift of all.

When time came for work, Wynona insisted they not arrive together in order to keep a low profile.

He nodded solemnly. “So that would be lower than Zoe and her guys getting it on in a treatment room? Heather and MJ sneaking kisses? Daemon and Heather making out behind the plants near her desk? Daemon talking about his cock, pretending he doesn’t want to show it off when he does? Me hiding the hickeys you left on both my thighs and you covering up the one I put on your shoulder? Do I need to go on?”

She smacked his butt and then pointed at him. “Stay here twenty minutes before you go in.”

He stayed two, got dressed quickly, and waited in a treatment room for her to arrive. Once she’d passed his door, he snuck out, wrapped his arm around her waist, and swung her around.

She squealed.

He cut off the sound with his tongue and trapped her against the wall, his kiss white hot, his need for her immeasurable. Earthy growls and soft sighs spilled from her. She wrapped her leg around his and drove her fingers through his hair.

No way would he make it through tonight’s endless shift without several long breaks. Maybe he should say Wynona’s evaluation was today, and they needed to meet in her office, alone, with the lock thrown and a do-not-disturb sign on her door. Becca probably wouldn’t buy his story, but he had to give it a shot.

With their mouths still joined, he eased Wynona from the wall and stumbled toward her office, kissing her hard, soft, anyway he could.

“Ah, Rafael?”

Becca. Crud. There went his plan to evaluate Wynona tonight. Tamping down his disappointment, he pulled his mouth from hers.

Wynona yanked him right back, shoving her tongue between his lips.

Loud throat clearing rang out. Deep and gritty, somewhat like Zoe’s or a guy’s. Stefin putting on a holier-than-thou show? Annoyed at the interruption, Rafael pulled his mouth from Wynona’s and glanced over.

Frank, his supervisor, stood next to Becca. She wore a pained expression. Frank looked ready to crumble from old age or what he’d just seen, his wrinkles deeper, noggin even balder, his frail form swallowed by his baby-blue jogging suit.

Rafael opened his mouth to explain, lie, plead. “Ah…”

Wynona gave him an odd look, glanced at Frank, and turned white. “Oh my God, you’re him. Boss man.”

Becca took Wynona’s arm. “Rafael and his supervisor need to talk. You and I can go to my office.”

“No.” She pulled her arm away and fisted her fingers in Frank’s top. “You and I need to have a word.”

What in the hell was she doing? Rafael pried her fingers off Frank. “Go with Becca.”

“No.” She got in Frank’s face. He stepped back. She followed. “You have the wrong idea about this.”

“I wish it were so.”

“It is, dammit.”

He cowered. “Are you going to beat me up?”

“Not if you take off. Go.” She pointed to the ceiling.