Hold 'Em: Vegas Top Guns, Book 3 (29 page)

“That, you’ll have to see.” She grabbed his belt buckle. Putting on the best bitch-mode act she had, she sauntered into the bedroom, dragging him along behind her. He certainly followed willingly enough.

Leah stopped when he stood in the doorway.

They both looked at what she’d so carefully placed in the center of the pure-white bedspread.

The cane she’d bought. The one she’d practiced with for hours, determined to get it right.

Heat swept up from her pussy, up into her stomach. Her heartbeat went into triple time, just from having Michael and the slender cane in the same room. The moisture dried in her mouth—pure anticipation of how he’d groan and jump under each stroke, of how he’d moan in her ear when she made him fuck her afterward.

She risked a glance out of the corner of her eye. He seemed almost as affected as her. His chest jerked on harsh breaths. His mouth had fallen slightly open.

Deliberately she stepped between him and the bed. Her hands slipped slowly up his wide chest and spread across his shoulders to push the jacket away. She pinched his nipples through the fine material of his dress shirt. Setting her teeth to the thick column of his throat, she bit down. Harder than she’d ever bit him there before—just shy of leaving marks.

“What do you say, pet?” She licked his salt-tinged skin. “Will you make me very happy tonight?”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Mike let his eyes slide shut. A heavy shudder worked across his shoulders. His nerves still popped in the wake of Leah’s bite.

But her question…

After four active tours of duty, he would’ve thought his sense of self-preservation a little better developed. A
lot
better, actually. Using a cane was serious business, but there he stood in the sumptuous suite, reveling in the possibilities.

He hadn’t been on the receiving end of a cruel caning since his few months spent under Georgia’s tutelage. Frankly, he hadn’t trusted anyone else that deeply. A woman’s commitment to his safety and care needed to be extraordinary. His desire to please needed to be hypnotic—an anesthetic and an aphrodisiac all at once.

Leah possessed that sort of hold over him.

Despite the throb in his cock, which threatened to numb conscious thought, he wasn’t entirely insensate. There were limits to what he’d do. Limits to what pain he could endure. Forcing anything defeated the point of having a good time.

He met her eyes, which were dark. So dark. He saw every delicious fantasy in those depths, just waiting to be brought out into the suite’s soft white light.

After a tense swallow he asked, “You’ve been practicing?”

He sounded hopeful. There was no denying the heady, thousand-mile-an-hour blast that came from imagining what sort of night they could share. She’d picked it out, waiting for this opportunity. Planning. Working to get the aim and the heft just right. He imagined her frustrated but still persisting—as she had with the flogger, as she did when faced with any challenge. All the while she’d have been racked with excitement, fantasizing about him.

To be wanted that badly made his stomach weak.

Leah backed out of his arms. Two steps took her to the bed where she traced an index finger along the rattan tip. Gracefully, her motions smooth, she placed a decorative throw pillow in the center of the bed before grasping the cane’s handle. The red of her nails shone in the hotel room’s gentle lighting.

She smiled at him, as if sharing a secret. Those beautifully quirky lips, shiny and scarlet, tipped up at the corner.

With a quick flick of her arm and wrist, working in a perfectly timed movement, she struck the cane across the small square pillow. Dead center. Perfectly balanced, so as not to gouge or pierce too sharply. Her follow-through was graceful as well as she angled the toy’s natural bounce up toward the ceiling.

Another time. And again. With uniform results.

She turned to face him, hands on hips. The pale length of rattan was framed by the swoops and swags of her killer red dress. “Well, pet?”

Mike rubbed a hand over his mouth. The whistling sound as the cane flew through the air had sent shock waves of pure craving up his spine. His hands shook with a fine trembling he didn’t bother to conceal. Nothing could disguise the jerking cadence of his breath or the hard ridge of his erection.

“We’ll warm up, ma’am?”

“Absolutely.” Something dark—maybe even hesitant—swished across her expression. She laid the cane aside and returned to his arms. Two slender hands framed his face. “But only if you’re sure.”

“Ma’am?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sure.”

The moment of hesitation vanished. She was his ice princess again, with her mouth set in a seductive smirk. “Do you know how much I want you, Michael?”

God, he loved hearing his name when her voice went sweet and husky. “Will you tell me, ma’am?”

Able fingers began to unfasten his buttons. One at a time. A slow torture. When the shirt gaped open from throat to navel, Leah raked one red nail down his skin. She repeated the long, sharp caress, harder the second time. Mike could only watch, transfixed, as pale pink streaks marked her path.

“I want you,” she said calmly, as if she’d found the same place of peace that he always did when she took control. “I want you shaking and tense and needy. I want you as strung into knots as I am for you.”

“You’ve been imagining this night for some time, haven’t you?”

“Yes, I have.”

He wet his lower lip, relishing the way her eyes followed every subtle movement. The attention made him ache for more. “For how long?”

“Does that matter?”

“I’d like to know.”

“About five weeks.” She pushed the shirt from his shoulders then yanked the tails out of his waistband. Leaning close, she flicked her tongue over one nipple. Her fingertips dug deeply into skin along his ribs. He might’ve laughed, just a little ticklish, had her grip been any more hesitant. “I practiced almost every night. Sometimes it was too much.”

“Too much?”

“Wanting you. Imagining you. I’d hold the handle in one hand and touch myself with the other.”

Mike’s pulse picked up speed. “That’s a lovely image, ma’am.”

“
You’re
lovely. Now off with these slacks. I want you on the bed.”

The game had begun in earnest. Mike’s rational brain took a back seat to the sharp thrill of pleasing her. Anticipation stretched each nerve taut, waiting, waiting for the next sweet sting and the way she’d make it last.

He retrieved a string of condoms from his pocket then shucked his trousers.

“The nightstand for those, please,” she said. “I want you on your knees in the center of the bed.”

Obeying, silent now, he eased into the quiet moments before the storm.

“Arms up, Michael. Hands behind your head.”

Leah watched silently as he got into position. With her steps sultry and swaying, she slowly circled. The intensity of her gaze, studying him from front to back to front again, burned hot over his naked skin.

Jesus, he was hard. Completely vulnerable and exposed. Leah’s sensual appreciation of his body made him strong. Chest high, back straight, he kept his elbows out to the side and his fingers laced at the base of his skull. The grace of her palms along the backs of his calves made him twitch.

“Easy, pet.”

“I love when you touch me.”

“I know you do. Believe me, you give me quite the thrill too.”

It was so easy. So easy to be what she wanted, when she gave him those reassurances. More than that, he couldn’t wait to prove, again and again, what sort of man he was. Man enough for anything she desired. The challenge of the pain awaiting him was a fierce dare. A test. Just how much could he take?

Leah crawled onto the bed. Her breasts brushed along his back. “So strong, Michael.”

He swallowed, eyes to the ceiling. Every touch felt like it was just the beginning, even though she pressed harder and sharper each time.

“Say what I want to hear,” she whispered against his spine.

“All for you, ma’am. Only you.”

She trailed soft kisses down his backbone then edged her teeth against the top curve of one buttock. Mike exhaled as she bit down. He groaned. Almost as soon as she began, she released the deep bite and swiped her tongue over that sensitized skin. Again, then again, she bit and licked high across his ass. He only knelt there, elbows wide, as he soaked up every ache.

“Very good.” She straightened again, running her hands up his sides, around to his chest. Rubbing, scratching, pinching, she broke down his defenses and reached past his reflexive need to draw away. Instead he melted into each new caress. “Now bend over, pet. On your hands and knees.”

Mike obeyed, chancing a glance to the side. The stilettos were gone. She’d hiked her hem up, kneeling on the bed in her sexy red dress.

With her right hand, she smoothed a sweeping stroke over his ass. More friction. More speed. He knew what was coming. His cock strained, heavy and erect between his thighs. His triceps tensed, just waiting. A low moan built in his chest, but he held it back. She liked when he was silent in these maddening moments before the first strike.

Crack.

He grunted, with his body shaking around the hot snap of her flesh against his. Slowly, with ever more force, she warmed his ass with smack after smack. Sweat beaded between his shoulder blades and at his hairline. Leah established a maddening pattern. Strike and soothe. Again, on the other side. He would just grow accustomed to the rhythm and intensity when she’d switch it up. A stronger hit. A series of softer blows with no soothing between. A long, lingering caress.

“Oh, Michael.”

He smiled to himself at her breathless whisper. Giving over to her care was so much more gratifying when he heard the little tells—how his submission affected her. How it gave her the same intense pleasure. Their needs dovetailed in the purest way.

“What would you like, Michael? If you could have anything at all right now, what would it be?”

This was new. He almost blinked at the surprise. But he didn’t tell her the truth. He wanted to be hers.
Entirely
hers. He wanted to be claimed in daylight and at night, with her cuff around his wrist. Maybe his physical vulnerability and abject need kept his request silent. If Leah were going to be his, and if she were going to claim him, he wanted it when they were both stone-cold sober—not high on the rush of their roles.

Still she waited.

“I’d ask that you take off your dress, ma’am.”

“You don’t like my dress?”

“Your dress is incredible.”

“But?”

“But when you hurt me, I love to see your body move.”

Eyelids heavy, she took a deep breath, which lifted the gentle swells of her breasts. She wasted no time. Off the bed, she positioned her body in the perfect spot for him to watch. The dress was up, over and off in a graceful sweep. She wore a matched red bra and panties. No stockings. Just her cream-colored skin.

“Like this, pet?”

“Yes.” He breathed, but the air wasn’t getting to his brain. “Just like that, ma’am.”

“Then come here. On the edge of the bed.”

Mike shifted, turning until his feet were flat on the floor, slightly wide. He leaned at the waist, giving the weight of his torso to his forearms and elbows. He clasped his hands together, fingers laced. Anticipation tensed in his belly. The ring beneath the head of his cock was tight, as if Leah squeezed him there.

She wasn’t touching him. Just watching in that ravenous way. She laid the cane on the mattress, right next to his tensed forearms. The leather handle brushed his skin, covering him with goose bumps.

Leah took her position on his left side, which freed her right hand. She began anew, slapping his lower back, his upper thighs, his ass. Each new hit was sharper than the last, no teasing now. Mike braced against the gathering burn. The blaze in his brain was bright and hot now, needing more. Aching and waiting. His nerves had taken on a delicious tingle—just numb enough to crave something harder and deeper.

She was breathing quickly. Her breasts bounced with the strikes of palm against tensed muscle. Her abs contracted with each reverberation. The long, unbound hair that had been so neat at the start of dinner was damp now. Erotic strands clung to her cheeks and neck.

She stopped unexpectedly, just when he’d been sinking into that soft, peaceful place of warmth and stinging pain. Mike flashed her a glance. She’d leaned close. Her eyes gleamed and her crooked lips perched in a delicious half-smile. Leah kissed his shoulder. Tenderly. Reverently.

When she straightened, she curled her right hand around the handle of the cane.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Through all the long hours of practice, Leah had kept this moment in the back of her head. The moment when Michael and the cane would come together under her touch.

It was everything she’d imagined. More.

Her palm still stung from the blows she’d landed over and over. Long stretches of his skin carried a pink wash.

He was beautiful. The hard-edged, restrained beauty of a male warrior. A sheen of sweat made his muscles gleam. His thick, strong chest jerked on harsh breaths.