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Cuffed & Collared Page 9
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Page 9
“You like anchovies?”
“Is that a problem?”
Kyle grinned. “No, I like them, too. You’re the first woman I’ve been involved with who shares my taste buds.”
“We’re not involved,” she corrected him primly.
His smile vanished. “Yes, we are. I have my hands on your face, if nothing else.”
“You shouldn’t.” She made to pull back.
He tightened his grip to stop her. “Don’t. Please, don’t. I like touching you.”
She sighed again but stopped her retreat. “Okay, although I can’t see why. You should find me annoying at the very least.”
“Part of me does.” He liked the way she took the information on the chin and didn’t display hurt feelings the way most women would. “Maybe I should consult this Doctor Molvado to figure out what’s going on with me.”
“No!” The command was sharp, and Regan’s face went hard and serious. “Stay away from her, Kyle.”
“O-okay,” he agreed. Why, though, he wondered. What was going on with this doctor that had Regan concerned? He would look into it later. Agreeing not to contact the woman didn’t mean he couldn’t do some research on her. Right now, he had other ideas. “How about we find something more enjoyable to do than analyze our fetishes?”
He gave her a look that he knew left no doubt as to his thoughts and intentions, then let his hands talk for him. Sliding them down from her face, he caressed her neck, shoulders, and arms. He admired briefly the hard bulge of her biceps. No wonder she could manipulate his body so easily and deliver potent slaps. It was merely a passing thought, however. He was more interested in the soft parts of her. His hands moved to cup her breasts, the hard tips of which pressed into his palms.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Somehow Regan found the strength to state the obvious, but she knew the effect of the admonishment was diminished by the way her breath hitched. From the moment she’d realized Kyle was standing behind her in the reception area to the way he was now circling his palms around her erect nipples, her body had reacted with sexual glee. Every nerve ending stood at attention, straining to wrap itself around his hard body and rub until it was satisfied.
This encounter was not going the way she had planned. After leaving Molvado’s office, she had sent JoJo on a fishing expedition back at the precinct with regard to the doctor’s private life and possible connection with the murders. Two dead patients was not a good track record, and the woman gave off funny vibes. Maybe it was a stretch to suspect her of being the killer. Nevertheless, this was one thing in which Kyle better obey her.
In any event, this trip to his office was supposed to put an end to their personal involvement, not advance it. He said he wasn’t reliving some childhood abuse, and maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he was one of those men the doctor had said are simply wired to want a woman to dominate them. She wasn’t sure, but she did know there was no way she could think clearly with his hands roaming all over and his lips leaving a trail of kisses along her throat, fulfilling her desire.
“Kyle, stop,” she ordered.
“Why?” he murmured against her skin.
“Isn’t it enough that I said so?” She deliberately made her voice authoritative and was pleased when his actions stilled.
Lifting his head to look at her, he said, “Yes, it is.” He dropped his hands, and she immediately missed the touch, although she didn’t let him see how she felt. “You’re not being very fair.”
“I don’t have to be. When it comes to my body, I call the shots, and that is not a Femdom issue.”
“Point taken,” he acknowledged. “Although you could have used the safeword.”
She narrowed her eyes. “That’s for you, not me.”
He chuckled in a self-deprecating tone. “Yeah, right, I forgot.” A few seconds went by before he continued. “You can see what you do to me.”
Regan glanced down at his obvious erection. “I must confess it’s flattering.”
“Lady, you have no idea,” he replied enigmatically. But before she could make him clarify his statement, he said, “Look, I’ve had my fun and then some. It’s time I took care of you.” Leaning in close, yet not trying to touch her again, he whispered in her ear seductively. “Let me make you come, Regan, right here and now. I know you want it.”
Her eyes drooped to half-mast at the suggestion. Yes, she did. She wanted him to lavish her body with attention until it screamed in orgasm. She had been tightly wound since she’d met him, and pretty soon she needed to be back at Club Nemesis, beating on strange men and trying to find a killer. The release Kyle offered would relax and rejuvenate her. Still, she resisted. As much as she wanted it, a bigger part of her thrived on the idea that she could control her needs along with him. She was fooling herself by continuing to believe she could walk away from any involvement.
“No, not this time,” she said in a clear voice. Holding him back with one hand on his shoulder, she reached down with the other and cupped his balls through the thin fabric of his slacks. His quick gasp made her smile. “I’d say yours is the greater need.”
“Regan, let me do this for you,” he growled. “I don’t like leaving you unsatisfied.”
“You won’t.” She squeezed up the length of his cock.
He groaned with pleasure. “Regan, don’t.”
She stopped her movement. “I don’t recognize that word. Is there another one you want to use?”
“No.” He grit his teeth and scowled down at her, but he was still hard as steel in her fingers, and in addition to not using the safeword, he wasn’t trying to escape her grasp.
“All right, then. Do you need to get back to work?”
“They’ll wait for me. They don’t have a choice because I’m in charge.”
“Not here and now you’re not.” She steered him by pressing on his bulging cock until he was leaning against one of his visitor chairs. “Sit down.”
A burst of pleasure centered in her clit and radiated throughout her body when he obeyed. It was thrilling to dominate this man, but only because he was such a potent and powerful person. Bossing around a wimpy guy wouldn’t have the same effect on her. There was no challenge in dominating the weak, no sense of accomplishment. Knowing that, when he left her, Kyle would charge through the rest of his day taking no quarter from anyone else made her feel like a goddess.
Because she was calling the shots, she didn’t feel diminished by kneeling in front of him. She knew that with a simple command, she could have him on his knees instead. That wasn’t what she wanted. Not yet, anyway. If this really was the beginning of a relationship and one based on Femdom dynamics, then she needed to bring him to heel completely before she could be sure he would pleasure her exactly the way she wanted. The best way to control any man was through his cock. She slowly undid Kyle’s belt and lowered the zipper of his pants.
“Regan,” he began.
“Shut up,” she ordered without looking at him. He did as she commanded with an audible click of his teeth. Ignoring his face, she concentrated on freeing his erection and admired once more its length and width. When and if she actually let him slide into her, it would fill her to a very satisfying degree indeed.
“I like this. I like this very much.” She stroked the smooth skin up and down. “I want to taste it.”
She hadn’t had a plan when she took hold of him, but now that she was staring at his rod, sucking it struck her as the perfect thing to do. Lowering her head, she took it inside her mouth. He groaned, and she smiled around the rigid flesh. Yup, nothing like a blowjob to blow a guy’s mind. She licked the underside of his cock as she sucked more of it in. One of her hands rested on his thigh for leverage while the other clasped his erection and moved up and down in rhythm with her mouth.
“Oh, God.” Kyle moaned, and his fingers tangled in her hair, pressing her head gently down.
Regan lifted her head, popping his slick cock out. “Don’t touch me,” she commanded. �
�Keep your hands on the arms of the chair and don’t move.”
He muttered a curse under his breath but did as she said. His eyes were closed, and his head tipped back. She nodded to herself. If she was going to control the show, he couldn’t be allowed to be anything other than completely passive. She rewarded his obedience by returning to her task and was delighted to be met with the salty tang of pre-cum. The guy was so hot for her, he wasn’t going to last much longer. His balls were pulled in tight to his body, which quivered with arousal and restraint. She could tell he wanted to jerk his hips up to meet her sucking, yet he didn’t do it. He was being a good boy.
She slanted her eyes to one side and watched as his grip tightened to white knuckles on the chair. His breath came out in harsh pants. Picking up the speed of her mouth and hand, Regan sucked hard on his flesh, willing the orgasm to erupt. A muted bark shot from his mouth right before he jerked and hot semen spurted out. Her tongue pushed against the roof of her mouth to catch the salty stream while she pushed down on his thigh to keep him from shoving too deep into her.
When Kyle was finally still, Regan let him go and stood up. Turning to his desk, she found a mug and spit out his juice. She wiped her lips with the side of her hand. “Sorry,” she said with a quirk of her lips. “I don’t like to swallow.”
He lay bonelessly in his chair, staring at her with a hooded gaze. He looked absolutely poleaxed, and she felt enormous pride at having been the woman to do that to him.
“It’s okay,” he replied. “I wouldn’t swallow, either, if I were you.”
His admission gave her an idea. She smirked at him and sauntered back to where he sat. “How do you feel, Kyle?”
He mimicked her look. “Very relaxed, Mistress Regan.”
“Excellent.” She straddled his lap with one leg and, leaning over, hovered her lips over his. “Open up for me, Kyle.”
After a second’s delay, he complied, and she slipped her tongue inside his mouth. She kissed him long and hard, sharing the taste of his cum with him. Far from shying away in disgust, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her body into his. She allowed him that bit of liberty, happy with the way her visit had ended, after all. But it couldn’t last. She had work to do. Reluctantly, she ended the kiss with a little nip of his tongue and stood up again.
Kyle licked his lips seductively while gazing at her. “So that’s what I taste like. Interesting. I think I’ll stick to pussy.”
“Glad to hear it,” she answered with a quirk of her brows.
He sprang to his feet, zipping himself up as he did. “How about right now?”
She clucked her tongue and shook her head. “No. I’m due at the club, and you undoubtedly have work, as well.”
“True.” He clasped her arm when she started to move toward the door. “When? I’m up on you by two. I want to reciprocate.”
“You men are so goal oriented,” she chided.
Still, he was right about her not being satisfied. She enjoyed bringing him to orgasm, in exercising control over him, but it was not yet enough. She wondered if anything ever would be with this man. She wanted to forget about the investigation, trip him to the floor and ride him like a bronco. Duty called, however, and she wanted to take it slow with him in any event. The moment she let him into her body would be that much sweeter if she allowed the tension to build.
“Guilty as charged,” he agreed. “Regan, I want—no, I need to see you again.”
“Friday, your place.” There was already a germ of an idea forming about what she might pick up at Veronica’s store to play with.
“What time?”
“I’m not sure. I want you waiting by eight. I’ll get there when I get there.” She walked to the door and turned with her hand on the knob. More thoughts about what they could do were popping up in her mind. “I’ll be hungry, so have dinner ready, and I want you in your underwear.”
“My underwear?” he repeated on a laugh.
She gave him a stern look. “Just your underwear. Understand?”
He sobered up. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Good boy.” She opened the door and stepped through. Turning on her heel, she reminded him of one more thing. “And Kyle? Stay away from Doctor Molvado.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he repeated, but it didn’t sound quite so sincere this time.
Regan strode to the elevator. Damn him. He had better obey her about this and about the rest of the investigation. She didn’t want another dead man on her hands, and more than that, she didn’t want Kyle to be the killer’s next victim. He was beginning to be more to her than a weird kind of lover. He was starting to really matter.
****
An hour later, Regan smoothed the lines of her leather dress and stared at herself in the dressing room mirror of the club. She hadn’t quite managed to recreate the look Veronica forced on her the previous day, but she supposed it was good enough. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone. Kyle wouldn’t be among her customers this afternoon.
The thought of the man added a layer of moistness to her already twitchy, wet pussy. Her hips swayed of their own accord. She was dying to get the guy inside her, and Friday seemed a long way off. Looking forward to the end of her work week wasn’t like her. Usually she was the last one out the door, reluctant to leave any portion of her job undone even for one night, let alone an entire weekend.
This change in her nature disturbed her. Kyle Ramsey disturbed her. And, yet, there were only two choices. She could either shut down her growing interest in him with ruthlessness or pursue the relationship with her typical aggressive enthusiasm. Given that she had made a quick stop at Veronica’s shop and a bag full of sexual goodies was now stuffed in her locker at the club, it was clear which way she was going.
“So, you’re the new girl,” a female voice said.
Shifting her gaze from her own image, Regan regarded a large, African-American woman through her reflection. “I’m Regan.”
The other woman sat down at the make-up counter and started picking up various tubes and brushes. “I’m Cleo.”
“Nice to meet you.”
Regan watched as her companion liberally applied eye-shadow. Cleo’s outfit was equally dramatic, a strapless, leather Playboy Bunny kind of suit from which her ample breasts and muscular ass popped out. Her boots went all the way up her thighs, stopping just short of her crotch. While Cleo appeared to be about Regan’s age, her face had a tired, worn look. Regan imagined the woman had worked in places like Nemesis for some time. She would undoubtedly have a lot of information to give about the lifestyle.
Adopting a nonchalant stance against the wall, she began subtle questioning. “I’ve been hoping to have a chance to talk to some of you others working here. This is all new to me, and to be honest, I need some tips.” She gave the other woman a look, as if she were annoyed with herself for being so helpless.
Cleo batted her eyelashes to gauge her efforts before slanting a look Regan’s way. “Sure, honey, I don’t mind helping out a new girl.” She opened a compact and began brushing blush on her wide cheeks. “But don’t think there’s anything to this job. These guys are all pathetic. They want their mommy substitute to paddle their asses so they can go out and fuck others over without feeling guilty. It’s a game to them. Give them what they want, pick up your paycheck, and go home.”
Regan shifted her stance as she contemplated Cleo’s answer. She was beginning to think she was wasting her time at the club. The killer was certainly someone who viewed Femdom as more than a job or a game.
“I’m afraid I’m going to hurt them,” she prodded.
Cleo barked out a laugh. “Hurt them? Please.” She dismissed the idea with a wave of a tube of lipstick and applied a large swath of color to her lips. “With the toys we have here, no one’s going to get hurt. No matter how much these dicks carry on crying and screaming, believe me it’s all an act. They don’t known real pain. They couldn’t handle real pain.”
Apparently satisfied with her make-
up, she stood up and tugged her one-piece down over her ass cheeks a bit. She turned to Regan and looked her up and down. “You got a good look going for a newbie.”
Regan smiled at the compliment. “Thanks, Veronica picked it all out.”
Cleo nodded. “She knows her business. You look strong enough to pack quite a wallop, too.”
“I like to lift weights,” Regan admitted.
“Well, if you ever want to put those muscles to use in a legit Femdom setting, let me know. I’m into the real scene.”
“What scene is that?” Regan frowned. This conversation was starting to be more interesting.
Cleo shrugged. “People who are serious about pain, both inflicting it and receiving it, know how to find each other. You can’t have an open business for it, because the cops would shut it down. They don’t like adults making decisions about their own bodies, but they let little girls get the shit kicked out of them by grown men without doing a thing.” The woman’s eyes went hard and dark as coal with this last statement, and Regan knew Cleo was talking about herself and not a hypothetical.
“This is a way to even the score, isn’t it?” she said in a soft, conspiratorial tone.
Cleo’s smile in response was bitter. “Yeah, it is. Don’t let it get out of hand, here, though,” she warned. “Remember, this is a game. You want to make a guy scream in true pain, have him thank you for it afterward and actually mean it, let me know. I’ll hook you up.”
“Thanks, I’ll think about it.” Before Regan could form a follow-up question to pursue this developing lead, Cleo turned away.
“Showtime. I’ve got a regular coming in five minutes. He likes to pretend he’s a plantation owner, and I’m a slave who’s getting revenge for all the times he’s raped me.” She stopped and tossed another hard look over her shoulder at Regan. “As if he could ever understand what it’s liked to be raped and imagine what a woman would do to the man if the tables were reversed. See you around, honey.”
With that parting shot, Cleo was gone, and Regan was left wondering whether she had a new suspect in the murders.