Page 12 of Reckless King

My mouth is suddenly dry again. This man has me completely off-kilter, and it’s kind of exhilarating. I may be filled with nerves, but I can’t ignore the desire and anticipation building inside me.

I wet my lips, and his fingers tighten in my hair in response. “Are we going out there?” I whisper, glancing at the double doors and the shadowy corridor beyond.

He tilts his head to one side, and I do my best to breathe through the apprehension that’s welling up inside me at the idea of taking part in some rope play or spanking, at the possibility that he might want something else entirely. Something even more intimidating.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that,” he says.

Some of the tension leaves my muscles. “Then what?”

“I’m going to take care of you right here.”

My pulse jolts, and I scan the darkened club. “Here?”

He tugs lightly on my hair, bringing my attention back to him. “If anyone looks, it’s because they like what they see. But I’ll make sure they don’t see much. I promise.”

My heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest. Flashes of the scenes I witnessed when Anna and I arrived hit me. While it was obvious what those couples were doing, I didn’t really see all that much. And the people involved were unrecognizable anyway. Just like I’m unrecognizable right now. And tucked away in a corner like this, well…

My mind works overtime, uncertainty warring with arousal.

He watches me for a moment, then leans in close. “I’ll take care of you tonight, butterfly. You just need to tell me yes or no.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

TATE

The uncertainty in her pretty blue eyes morphs into desire. She’s nervous. That’s understandable. This is obviously not her scene. But she came here tonight for a reason, and from the moment she walked in, I wanted to be the one to give her what she needs. I haven’t felt this much desire for a woman in a long time, and I can’t even put my finger on the reason. From the little I can see of her face, she’s pretty, probably even beautiful, and her body in that little dress is mouthwatering. But that’s not what it is. I’ve been with plenty of gorgeous women who haven’t caught my interest the way she has.

Most of the women I fuck know exactly what I’m capable of giving them and aren’t afraid to ask me for it. It’s always made things easy. I give them what they want and take what I want, then we both walk away satisfied. No seeking a connection, no looking back. That’s how it’s always been. That’s how I’ve alwaysneededit to be. But the easy gratification I used to seek has lost its appeal.

Maybe that’s why she’s having such an effect on me. Because this isn’t about my gratification. This is all about her. About the stubborn tilt to her chin, and the fire that flashed in her eyes when she tried to convince me she knew what she wanted, aboutthe way she almost forgets to breathe when I touch her, and the trust she’s giving me, just by sitting next to me here.

That might be what I’m craving most of all—her trust. She’s allowing herself to be vulnerable with me. Truly vulnerable. It’s a rare thing in the world I live in, where every person I encounter is vying for power, even when it comes to sex. Trust may be an essential part of what goes on in this club, but even that is given within boundaries, tailored by rules put in place to make sure it’s not abused. The people who come here to let go of their inhibitions know what they’re signing up for when they walk through the door. But this woman? She doesn’t know what she wants or what she needs. So she has no idea what rules and boundaries to set. I want to be the one she takes that leap of faith with. The one she trusts with her body and her pleasure. I want her to trust that I’ll push her to the edge of her comfort zone, but not past it.

Not this time anyway.

I shake that odd thought away. Because there will only be this one time. I’ll keep her safe and give her what she needs, then send her on her way. That will be it. No looking back for either of us.

“Yes or no, butterfly?” I prompt her again, itching to touch her. But I won’t until she decides.

Her throat bobs in a swallow, and then she tips that stubborn little chin up. “Yes.”

Those pretty lips of hers have barely stopped moving before I’m sliding my hand around to the back of her neck and my mouth is on hers. She tilts her head and, with only the slightest hesitation, opens for me. I groan at the taste of her—sweet and tart, like the cocktail she was drinking. My teeth tug on her lower lip and my tongue thrusts deep, possessing, taking,claimingher—even if it’s only for tonight. And then I’m dragging my lips along her jaw until I reach the sensitive patch of skin beneathher ear. She smells like fucking peaches and cream. “How long since you’ve been touched?” I ask.

“Too long,” she breathes.

I scrape my teeth over her sensitive flesh. “Howlong, beautiful? I want to know how gentle you need me to be.”

She shudders and presses her soft breasts against me. “Over a year.”

“You’re right,” I murmur. “That’s too long for a woman like you to go untouched.”

I tug on her hair, just enough to get her to angle her head to the side and give me access to her throat. She makes breathless little noises as I kiss and lick my way down the slender column, but those sounds turn into a moan when I flick my tongue over the rapid flutter of her pulse point.

“Don’t… Don’t be too gentle.”

I pause and glance up at her. Her eyes, glazed by vulnerability, fix on mine.

“I just…” She exhales shakily. “I want to feel it. What you do to me. Really feel it. I doubt I’ll ever do anything like this again, so…” She worries her lower lip with her teeth, as if what she’s asking for might be wrong.

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