The dark king, p.14
The Dark King, page 14
But it was clear that having to sell their business was painful for them.
Caiden told the Tallons he didn’t need to see their books or inventory, that he would be happy to buy their business for well over market price to ensure they were more than financially secure without their usual revenue stream.
That’s when I broke my promise to stay quiet and opened my big mouth.
“Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Tallon, but may I see your inventory album?” After getting over their shock that I dared interrupt the king—if they only knew how I spoke to him 90 percent of the time, they’d probably have fallen off their chairs—they happily passed it over. It didn’t take me long to realize that their product wasn’t the problem. Likely, it was an advertising issue.
I started asking questions about how they promote their business, how often they run sales, and where they advertised, the whole nine yards. I took notes from what they told me (admittedly they were the first things I’d written down all night—I was a sucky assistant), and when I had all the information I needed, I made them an offer of my own.
“Obviously, you’re more than welcome to accept Cai—uh, His Majesty’s offer,” I said, “but if you’d prefer to keep your shop, I can help you do that. No offense, but your methods of advertising are old-school. You need to be where your customers are, and that’s social media and the internet. I can help you rebrand and build a strong online presence that will get your product in front of millions of eyes, and if they happen to be in town and want to visit the shop in person, great. But if they like what they see and they’re in Hong Kong, they’ll be able to purchase online, and all you’ll have to do is send it off with the daily delivery guy. What do you say?”
The Tallons were ecstatic. Caiden…was wary. “Those are excellent ideas, and if the Tallons are interested, I’d be happy to set them up with someone from my marketing department.”
I gave him a tight smile. “That’s not necessary, sire; it would be my pleasure to head this up.”
“I’m sure it would, and I appreciate what you’re offering, Miss Meara, but I’m not sure right now is a good time for you to be taking on such an involved endeavor.”
“Well, I think it’s the perfect time, Your Majesty. If you recall, you don’t have much need for me, so I have plenty of free time.” Then, smiling sweetly, I added, “Of course, if you’d rather give the project to someone else, I suppose I could always put my efforts into assisting your heads of security with whatever might be useful to them.”
He stared me down and ran his tongue over the front of his teeth before affecting a smile for his guests.
Grabbing my pen and notebook from me, he scribbled something as he told them that he’d make sure I was at their disposal. When he pushed the notebook back to me, it read Strikes 2 & 3, Beauty.
As the Tallons talked excitedly between themselves, I wrote my own note for him and pushed it back: Worth it.
I didn’t waste any time, starting first thing today and working until my shoulders were screaming at me, hence the soak in this glorious tub. Feeling much better, I get out and wrap a towel around myself. As I pad into the bedroom, I mull over my options for how to spend my evening but find it may have already been decided for me.
On the bed is a short, white satin robe and a black envelope. Faerie wings erupt in my belly as I slide my finger under the seal and pull out the black notecard. In silver pen, instructions are scrawled in Caiden’s handwriting.
Wear only this & enter my room to find your next set of instructions.
I quickly finish towel-drying my hair, don the robe, and make my way across the second floor to his room. I’ve never been inside, so I’m incredibly curious what the private space of a king looks like. Taking a deep breath, I let myself in, then close and lock the door behind me.
The room is massive. It takes up the entire half of the manor on this level. Walking in, my eyes drink in the extravagance of the black and silver decor with chrome fixtures and the back wall made entirely of movable glass panels.
His bed is larger than king-size and faces the glass wall that provides the stunning view of the Vegas Strip in the distance.
The balcony on the other side of the glass is impressive in both spaciousness and as an outdoor living area with furniture and big-screen TV and outdoor fireplace.
The only color in the whole room is an old wingback chair with a dark wood frame and bloodred damask upholstery. It’s angled in the far front corner that would allow him to see every inch of the room, like his own private throne over his personal domain.
I start in that direction, wanting to run my hand over the material where Caiden must have sat hundreds of times, but my foot crunches on something.
Peering down, I see another black envelope on the dark-gray carpeting and remember what I’m supposed to be doing.
Biting my lip in anticipation, I collect the envelope and remove the matching note card.
Kneel with legs spread, hands on thighs, and wait.
A shiver of excitement runs along my skin.
Lowering to the floor, I follow his instructions, setting the card off to the side. On the other side of the room—the same side as the chair—is an open entryway that must lead to the bathroom. The faint sound of a shower running reaches my ears, and my imagination runs wild.
Caiden standing naked in a huge enclosure with a dozen or more fixtures spraying him with water. His hands roaming over the hills and valleys of his cut muscles, reaching down to grasp his thick cock, slick with soap, and give it a few slow strokes…
I exhale a deep, shuddering breath and try to clear my mind. If I continue fantasizing, my hands will be doing their own touching, and I don’t want to disobey him.
It’s a strange thought—one I doubt I would’ve ever considered having before him—and yet I’m completely at ease with it. Submitting to him sexually brings me a sense of peace and rightness I’ve never had with another man, so I don’t plan on questioning it or caring if others might think I deserve to have my feminist card revoked. I only care that Caiden promises what I’ve always craved…complete and utter surrender.
Eager to submit or not, though, waiting and patience are not in my top-five strengths.
It’s taking all my self-control not to move from this position. The damp ends of my hair in front of my shoulders are soaking through the thin satin, making sections transparent, including my chest. My sensitive nipples already ache, the robe causing delicious tingles in my breasts as they grow heavy with need. Air caresses the wet flesh between my legs. And, oh God, I can feel my pulse throbbing in my clit, begging me to give it just one quick stroke with the pad of my finger…
The water turns off, and I hold my breath. Then he emerges, completely naked except for the leather wrist cuff and a silver chain around his neck with some kind of charm hanging between his taut pecs. Loose curls heavy with moisture hang over his forehead and around the pointed tips of his ears. His tanned skin is dewy from the steam, and as he moves, random droplets of water cut paths through the lines of his muscles.
Golden eyes hold me captive as he prowls toward me and stops a mere foot away. That’s when I realize what’s hanging from the chain. His wedding ring.
A feeling of possessiveness rises up inside me to see him wearing something that symbolizes our union despite how much he wants it to end. I almost make a comment but think better of it, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate me speaking out of turn right now.
He won’t be so lucky later.
I can’t see it with my head tipped this far back, but I know his cock is within sucking distance. I can practically feel its looming presence, and the temptation to simply lean forward and take him in my mouth is almost overwhelming. He must see the longing on my face because he strokes an approving hand over my hair, then brings it around to cup my chin.
“You’ve done well, Beauty.” His tone is gruff and commanding, sending a shiver down my spine. “You’ll be rewarded for following my instructions. But don’t forget that I owe you a punishment as well.”
Biting my lip, I say, “Looking forward to it, my king.”
He arches a brow. “Starting off bratty, are we? Bold choice.” I can almost see him file my insolence away to take out later, and a tiny thrill races through me. “Before we go any further, I want you to know that you can stop what’s about to happen between us at any moment with the use of a safe word. Then we’ll end this here and now, no hard feelings. Nod if you understand.”
I nod.
“Good,” he says, watching his thumb rub across my bottom lip before releasing me. “Choose your safe word, something you’ll easily remember.”
I think about my first encounter with Caiden, how I played the riskiest game in his casino and came out on top. Playing like this with him feels just as risky, and yet I’ve never been more sure this is the right bet to make. “Roulette.”
His eyes darken to molten toffee, igniting the fire in my belly.
“‘Roulette,’ it is. Let’s begin.”
He turns and walks away, and the way his ass looks as he moves should be illegal, all firm and round, with those sexy side indents I’d like to sink my nails into as he thrusts between my thighs.
Lowering his tall frame onto the red chair, he leans back and spreads his legs, offering me the perfect view of exactly what I want. He drapes his right arm over the side while his left hand begins lazily stroking his cock. My mouth waters at the sight.
“Strip.” The command echoes through the room and disrupts the butterflies in my stomach. Hoping the slight trembling of my hands isn’t noticeable, I reach up to slide the satin from my shoulders. “Fold it neatly and place it out of the way.”
I quickly fold the robe and set it aside. When the air hits my damp nipples, they furl into tight buds and draw Caiden’s gaze. His lips part enough that I can see the tips of his fangs. God, those are such huge turn-ons. The things I’ve fantasized involving the sharp tips of his canines would make me blush if I had to say them out loud, but it doesn’t make me want them any less.
“I can’t help but notice the way you’re staring at my cock.” His hand strokes from root to tip, then he twists his palm over the head before moving it down again. “Do you want my cock, Beauty?”
“Yes, my king.”
“Then keep your eyes on me…and crawl to it.”
I don’t even hesitate. I get on all fours and crawl to him, hyperaware of every new sensation. The plush carpet gives way under my hands and knees with every step. Nearly dry sections of hair run down my back and blanket my upper arms. My breasts, heavy with arousal, hang and sway gently with my movement, and cool air kisses my swollen pussy lips that barely peek out from between my thighs.
When I reach him, I resume my original position of sitting back on my heels and wait for further instructions.
“Go ahead,” he says. “Look at it.”
Grateful for the permission, I lower my gaze and get my first up-close look at what Caiden’s been keeping from me since our wedding night, and Jesus Christ. Molds of his dick should be made to create the perfect dildo and mass-produced for the whole world to enjoy. It’s porn-star-long and impossibly thick, with a fat head and deep ridge that will add an extra pop of pleasure every time he pulls out. His hand stops to squeeze just under the crown, and I watch as a clear drop of pre-cum beads at the tip.
A mewl of hunger escapes the back of my throat as I bite my lip in barely contained restraint.
“You want it?” He releases his heavy shaft and it drops to point straight at me.
I lick my lips, then flick my eyes up to his. “Badly, my king.”
“Earn it.”
“How?” I ask earnestly.
“By pleasing me, which you do by obeying me. And as there’s the little matter of your punishment, we’ll see how well you take it.” He holds his hand out. “Up and over my knee, brat. It’s time for your spanking. A real one.”
Again, I don’t hesitate. This is my darkest fantasy—the one that remained hidden until this enigmatic male sparked it to life—and I’m ready to own it. I want to give up control like this in the bedroom. And what’s more, I want to give it up to him.
I let him help me to my feet, then guide me over his left knee and arm of the chair with his cock trapped under my belly. One of his hands caresses my back while the other roams over the globes of my ass. From what little I experienced with him out by the pool, I recognize this as the calm before the storm. The part where he lulls me into a false sense of—
Smack!
I hear the slap a full second before I feel the sting. “Shit.”
“Silence.” Smack. “You’re allowed to make as much noise as you want, but no words unless I give you a direct order or ask you a question.” Smack. “This is your punishment, and you’ll take it without complaint.” Smack. “Is that understood? Answer.” Smack, smack.
I suck in a breath through my teeth as the flames lick the surface of my flesh, then mewl as he caresses the area, encouraging the warmth to sink between my legs and make me wet. “Yes, my king, I understand.”
His fingers trace the cleft of my ass and follow it down until they’re able to probe my pussy lips to find my entrance. “Already dripping. It makes me wonder if you defied me just to feel the sting of my hand again.”
I open my mouth but stop myself from speaking. I’m not sure what the right answer is.
SMACK.
“Ahh!” That one was harder than others, yet again the pain melts into pleasure that causes a new rush of arousal. Caiden tests my reaction, sliding two long fingers deep into my sex, slowly pumping in and out of my tight channel.
“We’ll see how brazen you are once I introduce you to the next part.” Pulling his fingers out, he drags my wetness up to rub it around my asshole. Nerves I didn’t even know existed suddenly light up with a zing, and he has me squirming on his lap in seconds. “Mmm,” he says, the sound a low rumble in his chest. “So eager.”
When he stops touching me there, I barely have time to register my disappointment before he rains down more slaps to my ass cheeks. He keeps the pacing and placement varied so I can’t predict when or where his hand will land next. My body jerks with every sharp contact, but with his other arm holding me down, I’m unable to move very far.
Not that I want to get away, it’s just that my actions are no longer driven by conscious thought. I’m operating on autopilot, not fully aware of my movements unless I concentrate on them, but even then it’s like watching myself through the hazy veil of a dream.
Fire, warmth, wetness… Fire, warmth, wetness…
So good, so good.
How does something this painful feel this fucking good?
The pattern rolls through me again and again, sometimes overlapping and other times giving me a short reprieve depending on the cadence of his hand.
I’m both overwhelmed by the cacophony of sensations and hyper-focused on every detail. I can feel my arousal trailing down my inner thigh and the graze of his cock head on my belly. I hear the echo of each slap and the pounding of my heartbeat. I smell the soap on his skin and his unique scent in the air.
I focus on the carpet below me down to the individual threads until his hand holds a silver object in front of my face. It’s bulb-shaped, with a pointed tip and a stem on the opposite side with a ruby-red gem the size of a quarter on the end.
“Do you know what this is?” he asks.
I blink a few times and try to answer, but the feel of his palm caressing the tender skin of my ass is distracting. Licking my lips, I finally manage to put words together. “It’s a butt plug.”
“That’s correct,” he says. “I bought it just for you.” He turns it and shows off the engraving in beautiful script that says Beauty on the smooth metal surface. “Do you like it?”
I reply tentatively. “I think it’s very pretty, my king, especially the engraving, but…”
“Go on.”
I swallow and feel my face flush. “But I’m not sure if I’ll like it in me.”
“You will,” he says, then his hand disappears from my view. A second later, I jump when a stream of cold gel hits the seam of my ass. Fingertips massage it around my asshole as he speaks. “What gives you pleasure is for me to decide. Do you understand?”
Never in my life has a man spoken to me with such disregard, and yet I’ve never been more turned on than I am in this moment. Make it make sense. Or don’t, actually. I honestly don’t care. Because with that one statement, Caiden has given me permission to not think, to just feel.
He’s in charge of my pleasure, and it makes me shiver with anticipation. “I understand, my king.”
“Good,” he says with a wicked undertone that makes a fresh wave of arousal flood my pussy. Then his voice softens with his next statement—not much, but enough that I hear the Caiden from that first night come through the role he’s playing now. “However, I’ll remind you that you always have the option of using your safe word to stop anything at any time. Tell me you’ll remember that.”
“I’ll remember.”
“Good girl.” A large hand smooths over my hair, then trails down my back to join the other one still massaging between my cheeks. “Now, let’s get you decorated like a pretty little slut.”
Butterflies erupt in my belly, their wings on fire from the sweet degradation of his words.
I want to be his slut, his whore, his dirty little every-fucking-thing. Because I know deep down he’s not insulting me with these titles—he’s revering me.
And that makes all the difference in the world.
Wedging the cool metal tip of the plug against my puckered hole, he works it in farther with a slow and steady push, keeping it moving forward to get past the ring of muscle that wants to clamp down to prevent the intrusion. “Relax for me, Beauty…that’s it. Good.”
