Page 59 of Ryker

Chapter 21

Ryker

I’m in fucking trouble. With Tara in my lap, my dick is hard as a rock, but my hands want to pummel something. Tara’s incredibly easy to read, even with her back turned to me, and whoever was on that phone call meant something to her.

They also made her frightened.

While she talked about designer clothing and Sunday brunch, my mind raced with arguments about whether or not I should pry.

She’s just a Butterfly.

She’s a temporary toy.

She’s only a member of the club.

Those facts aren’t what has me head-fucked though. It’s that I can’t stop worrying about her.

What’s her life like outside of my club? Who was that man I threatened yesterday? Why did Tara’s entire body go from languid to stiff with just the mention of brunch? Who is her family and how do they treat her? Who is her fucking boss and why is he sending her out to make undercover deals on shitty properties in the middle of the night?

This is a major problem. I shouldn’t give a shit about Tara or her life outside the Monarch. Once someone steps out of my club, they’re no longer my responsibility. And Tara will be out of here at the end of the month and who knows if she’ll ever come back.

I don’t like the way it makes me feel.

“Stand up.” I tap her thigh.

“Yes, Sir.” Tara’s only wearing my button-down shirt from yesterday. The front is completely open to reveal her beautiful breasts, hard nipples, and perfect pussy.

I rub my forefinger across my lips. It smells like her cunt.

It’s making me crave another a taste of her again and that’s a rarity. I usually eat a woman out to get her to leave me alone. Just like I used to do it so they’d give me money for my bills. But Tara? She’s quickly becoming an indulgence.

I get it now.

The reason my men like to be Doms for the Butterfly.

Before, I could never understand why they looked forward to being with the same woman for so long. I don’t have long-term girlfriends. The few lovers I bring to my bed are brief and serve a very specific purpose.

Tara meets every qualification for being a lover of mine, except she’s starting to get under my skin. I stayed up and watched her sleep again last night. I jerked off into her dress again, too. Once I couldn’t stand not having her attention, I woke her up, eating her pussy, because I could not, for the life of me, wait another moment to taste her.

She’s lucky I didn’t give into my desires and fuck her while she slept.

“Sit on the desk and put your feet here.” I tap the armrests of my chair.

Her eyes widen a fraction before she does as she’s told. Tara playfully spreads her legs for me, a wry smile extends across her sweet face. This woman runs hot and cold, just like I do. Aggressive one minute, shy the next. Scared, then brave. It’s an act that took me years to perfect just so I could keep my inner peace and protect myself. To see her with the same traits makes me want to save her. Protect her.

“You have a beautiful pussy.” I watch her closely. “Are you still sore?”

“Not at all.”

“Good.” Leaning forward to run my nose along her wet, swollen lips, I love how she melts for me. “I want to play with you, Butterfly.”

Her body language has changed again. Gone is the tension from her back and shoulders. She’s already panting at the mere promise of being played with like a little fuck toy.

Perfection.

I pull her off the desk, making her follow me out of my office, down the hall, up the elevator, and to a special room that’s always booked solid at least six months out.

One of the many perks a Butterfly gets is an all-access pass to every room in the club. Since they live here for a month, and the club is only open in the evenings, she can have all the fun she wants with the club's many amenities.

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