Tied to His Betrayal by Stacey Kennedy

Author:Stacey Kennedy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Loveswept
Published: 2016-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Darius

Many, many orgasms later, I’m sitting on the chaise with Taylor lying between my thighs, draped over me like a blanket, my fingers threaded through her hair. Never, not once did I ever imagine bringing her to the place where I’ve indulged in my darkest fantasies.

Within these walls I’ve whipped, spanked, bound, and fucked women playing a submissive role to me. I’ve played the doctor, the teacher, the therapist, and so many other roles for women who crave those particular fantasies. I’ve had rough, wild, and hard-core sex. I’ve explored my hunger to own a woman’s body until she has nothing left to give me, until I’ve drunk her dry.

But with Taylor, it’s different.

I don’t want leather slapping her ass. I want to slap her ass. I don’t want to bind her every time because I want her to touch me, too. I don’t want to use toys on her right now. I want to drive her higher and get her there, using nothing but me, my hands, my mouth, my cock. Me.

I’m so lost in my thoughts and the realizations coming over me that when Taylor says, “Darius,” I jerk beneath her.

She laughs, rubbing her warm cheek across my bare thigh. “A bit lost in your head, are you?”

I reach for the blanket that’s fallen off her back, pulling it up to her shoulders, keeping her warm. “A little,” I admit, gazing upon her bronzed skin and the freckles across her shoulders.

“That’s okay. My mind is working a mile a minute, too.” Her chest rises and falls with her long sigh.

“About what?” I need to know.

She swirls her finger against the leather in front of her face. “Will you be honest with me about something?”

“Always,” I promise, curious what’s on her mind.

“As I’m lying here, in this space, with all these things around me, I can’t help but think about the women you dated. You said you didn’t have a normal relationship with them. Is this what they did for you?”

I lean my head against the back of the chaise, glancing in her direction, then at the whips, crops, and other toys on the wall.

Her voice softens when she adds, “Did you use all of these things on them?”

“Yes.”

A long moment of silence stretches out between us, and I tuck her hair behind her ear, waiting her out. It’s a lot to take in, I’m well aware, so I give her the time she needs to process.

She finally does and asks, “Did you use these things on women because they liked it or because you did?”

It’s pretty clear what she wants to know. “You’re wondering if I’m a sadist?”

“Yes.”

“No, I’m not,” I explain. “I don’t get gratification, sexual or otherwise, in causing others pain.”

She moves onto her back, glancing up at me, eyes curious. “Then why do you do this?”

“Because all of this”—I wave out to the room—“can bring emotion and that creates a release.” I pause, trying to keep this simple for a woman who wouldn’t understand the pleasure that can come from a cane.

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