Beyond Control

chapter Five



She could hear him grunting.

Lex stared at Dallas's door and ran through the incredibly short list of activities that could result in rhythmic grunts drifting from the other side of it. F*cking, obviously--easily set aside. Even if he wanted to be a pig, he wasn't a stupid one. If anyone was getting in his pants today, it was her.

Of course, he could have started without her, a mental image that curled her toes in her heeled sandals and stopped her just shy of a knock. She licked her lips and rubbed her thumb over the inside of her thigh as she tugged the hem of her skirt down. An intoxicating possibility, but unlikely. Dallas wouldn't begin this discussion at a disadvantage, even one borne of pleasure.

Working out, then. Probably doing pushups, and enough of them to leave his skin sheened with sweat and imminently lickable. Enough to distract the hell out of her.

"F*ck you, O'Kane," she muttered, then banged on the door with the side of her fist.

The grunts paused long enough for him to say, "Come in," before resuming.

Not pushups, after all. He was hanging from the bar in one corner of the room, his shoulders flexing as he pulled his body up and then lowered it again. The sweat was there, of course, dampening his white wifebeater just enough to give an impression of the ink beneath. He kept going, every movement a controlled concert of muscle and power--and tailor-made to leave Lex weak in the knees.

"F*ck you," she said again, this time plenty loud enough for him to hear.

He grinned at her and paused with his chin above the bar. "Says the woman who makes us all watch while a fallen angel from Eden licks her p-ssy on stage."

"You love it." Lex held up the folded paper between her fingers. "I have something for you."

Still grinning, he dropped to the floor and reached for a towel to wipe his face and neck. "I wasn't sure you'd do it."

"Then maybe you don't know me very well," she said innocently.

"Uh-huh." He tossed aside the towel and walked toward her. No, not walked. Swaggered, every line of him dripping self-confidence. "We'll see."

Damn him, and damn his swagger, too. "Did you make a list?"

"I know my list." He stopped in front of her and touched her chin. "You want to hear it first?"

"Sure, why not?"

He nodded toward the couch and waited for her to sit before sprawling out beside her. "First rule. No sex without me."

A command that echoed the one scribbled on her own list. "I figured as much. Next?"

"The shows." His gaze darkened a little. "Though God only knows how much we'll lose if I pry Noelle off you."

Plenty enough for them all to feel the pinch. "You don't act like it bothers you."

"Mmm, things change. But I'll let the shows stand for now. Just the ones with her, though." Leaning in, he traced a fingertip along the collar before catching her chin. "No one with a pulse will wonder why I haven't put a stop to that."

But he wanted to. She could hear it in his voice, a low hum of tension and something else, a deeper rumble almost like possessiveness. "Anything else?"

"No lying to me about sex." He held her gaze, his own firm and unwavering. "If I ask a question about what you can handle, or what you need, that means I want the truth, not what you think I want to hear. Because believe me, I'll be taking plenty without asking."

Unbridled honesty, no matter what. Lex had been taught never to give it, because revealing too much led to deadly weakness. "I can try." The admission alone made her gut tighten. "I can't promise. Not always."

His jaw tightened, but the frustration in his eyes didn't follow through in the soft way he stroked her jaw. "Do you trust me?"

Honesty. "As much as I trust anyone."

It seemed like he studied her forever, his gaze roaming her face, his fingers still stroking. The silence stretched on long enough to make her want to look away before he jerked his head in a short nod. "If that's what I've got, I'll work with it."

It sounded too much like a concession, and she bristled. "I am what I am, Dallas. If you don't like it, I can find the door."

That fast, his fingers clenched on her chin. "Don't you snarl at me. If I didn't want you, you'd already be out of here. But if you think I'm not going to fight to turn that answer into yes, then maybe you need to rethink what you're walking into. I'm not a man who stops at almost."

In that moment, she hated him. Her eyes and throat burned, and she ached to throw it all back in his face and leave, just to prove that she could. Not even to him, but to herself.

She told her brain that it was time to move, but words spilled out instead as she shoved her crumpled note into his hand. "You want the truth? I don't know why I'm here, but I don't know how to leave. Not until I find out what this is."

He released her with a deep breath that turned into a chuckle. "I guess we'll learn whether I can handle the unvarnished truth, won't we? Not many people will give it to me anymore."

Lex pushed her fingers through her hair, bereft without his touch. "Do you blame them?"

"Sometimes." He smoothed the paper out on his thigh and glanced at it. A frown creased his brow as he studied what she'd written. "What is this?"

"It's my list. My rule."

He read the words aloud, all seven of them. "Whatever we do, we do it together."

No inflection, nothing. She shifted on the cushion and cleared her throat. "That's all."

"What happened to not liking punishment like Noelle?"

"It's not my thing, but it's not a deal breaker, either." Lex arched an eyebrow. "If you expected me to list everything that gets me hot and everything that doesn't, forget it. You can figure it out like any other mere mortal."

For a second, he looked so irritated she thought he might snap. His hand clenched tight around the paper, and that dangerous heat she knew so well gathered in his eyes. "So you're saying I can do any damn thing I want to you."

The pendant woven into the center of her collar was warm on her skin, warmer still when she touched it with nervous fingers. "That's what it means for me, wearing this."

"Stand up."

It sounded different from his usual commands, softer and harder at the same time. She rose and faced him, standing with her hands in fists at her sides.

He shifted into a pose she knew well, settling in the center of the couch with his long legs sprawled out carelessly. The lazy king at his finest, except he usually had plenty of people to demand his attention. Now there was only her, shivering under the weight of his gaze.

He was looking at her like he owned her, and that was all he needed.

Another long moment, and he smiled slowly. "What's under the dress?"

"Not a damn thing." This was more familiar territory, and Lex clung to it as she gathered her dress an inch higher on one leg. "Want to see?"

"Dirty girl." The words held nothing but sincere approval. "Show me. Take it off."

With every nerve on high alert, the fabric sliding over her skin felt like hands. Lex eased it up, over her head, and dropped it on the floor at his feet.

He gestured again. "Shoes, too."

She nudged his knee with one toe. "The buckles are tricky. Help me?"

"Maybe if you bend over, you can see them more clearly."

Grinding a spike heel into his balls would be counterproductive, and not nearly enough payback for this arrogant performance. Instead, she pulled away and turned. One slow, deliberate bend from the waist later, she unbuckled one shoe, then the other.

"That's my girl," he rasped. "Always fighting dirty." She hadn't heard him move, but he was there, suddenly, hands on her hips. "Don't move."

She swallowed hard. "Not even to take off my shoes?"

He splayed a warm hand across the small of her back, traced the curve of her ass and lower, along the inside of her thigh and the back of her knee. When he spoke, his breath spilled hot over her p-ssy. "You can do that."

Only long years of practice allowed her to keep her balance. She kicked off the shoes and stilled. "Like this?"

"Mmm." He edged his hand between her legs and stroked her, slicking past her outer lips to tease one finger into her, and her inner muscles clenched at the invasion. "I thought I might have to eat this p-ssy to get you wet enough to f*ck, but you could take me right now, couldn't you? I think you like being pissed at me."

As hard as she tried, she couldn't swallow her moan. "I know your game, honey. You're not fooling me."

"Is that so?" Another finger joined the first, broad and sure, working into her with the confidence of long familiarity. This, he'd done plenty of times, getting her off in a hundred ways.

She choked on another moan as heat tingled outward from her core, curling through her like ink in water. "You have to keep up the cocky act, or you'll blow."

"Oh, I'll blow either way." He whispered the words against the curve of her ass, her only warning before he bit her with a dark laugh. "The only question now is where my dick's gonna be when it happens."

There was only one thing he refused to do to any woman who didn't wear his collar, the real reason behind the parade of random women in and out of this very room. And every instinct she possessed screamed that he'd been dying to do it to her.

Lex arched her back, staying bent at the waist but leaning up far enough to peer back at him over her shoulder. "You scared? Afraid I won't live up to the fantasy, Declan?"

Leather whispered over denim, his belt sliding open as he slipped his fingers from her body. Without taking his gaze from hers, he lifted his hand and licked his finger. "Not even a little."

She faced him. "Then what are you waiting for?"

Instead of answering, he left his belt hanging open and plunged his fingers into her hair, jerking her against him hard enough to suck the air from her lungs. His mouth landed on hers, stealing all the air she had left as he wrenched her head back and drove his tongue past her lips.

The answer to more than her question. Lex moved closer, despite the sharp tug of his hand in her hair. He'd kissed her before, but never like this, with a fire that threatened to consume. They'd always kept the need between them so carefully banked, painfully aware of the lines they could cross so easily.

That need sizzled to life now, like something had been unleashed. She scratched him, bit his lip, hissed his name when he hoisted her off the floor and slammed her against the closest wall.

No more waiting.

"Now." His shirt ripped as she wrenched it over his head. "F*ck me now."

"Not like this." He snaked an arm around her, pivoted, and thumped her down on the arm of the couch. Strong fingers dug into her hips and sent her sprawling back, falling until her shoulders hit the plush cushion.

Dallas loomed over her, his hands curled around her thighs. His gaze swept up, lingering on the tattoo of his name, on her tits. Her collar.

Lex squirmed. She'd expected a submissive position--on her knees, maybe, with Dallas gripping her hips--but this wasn't symbolically helpless. She couldn't move or control anything, was completely at his mercy...and he knew it.

He didn't seem to have the patience to savor it. He all but ripped his jeans open and freed his cock, fisting the shaft with a growl. "Pinch your nipples."

"No." Despite the refusal, she was already lifting her hands to obey. Instead, she grazed them lightly, teasing the hard peaks with her thumbs.

His cock ground between her p-ssy lips as he leaned down and closed his hand around hers, forcing her finger and thumb together on her nipple. "Yes."

Rough and sweet. It set off a shudder, and Lex dug her teeth into her lower lip when the reflexive movement rubbed her * against the hard ridge at the head of his erection. F*ck.

Dallas laughed and forced her to tug at her nipple, guiding her fingers in short, rough jerks that skated close to pain. "That's right, love. Control, not obedience. If I have control, I can get obedience, whether you give it to me or not."

"Only if you take it," she managed to rasp.

A rock of his hips rubbed his cock over her * again, but it seemed unconscious, instinctive. His focus was on her, his eyes dark as he moved his hand. "Pinch those tight little nipples, Lex. Do it, and I'll f*ck you."

Another denial sprang to her lips, but she held it back, held his gaze as she cupped her breasts and slowly squeezed her fingers together. The denial melted into a moan as pleasure and anticipation tingled up her spine.

Dallas straightened, sliding his hand down her body as he went. Her hip, her abdomen, soft touches, almost gentle. They might have been too gentle if he hadn't gripped her inner thigh, his fingers biting into flesh with impatience as he thrust her leg wide.

And thrust into her.

The sensation that rocked her was more than physical, an awareness of the harsh stretch and hardness of his cock. It wasn't new, not exactly, but oddly familiar. This was how he would own her, with a possession so complete it had always existed, in glances and whispers.

He'd never been in her like this, but he'd always been in her.

For once, Dallas was as speechless as she felt, his face slack and his eyes almost closed. He dug bruises into her leg as he stilled, buried deep in her body. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them breathed.

Before she could get air into her lungs, his eyes snapped open, searing the space between them as he skated that hand from the tender flesh of her inner thigh to her even more sensitive *. His thumb slicked in one slow circle, then another. "I've been waiting forever to feel you coming on my dick."

"Oh, God." She tried to keep from moving, but her shoulders pressed into the couch cushions as she arched against him. "Not too fast."

His thumb stroked faster. Harder. "You trying to tell me what to do again?"

"No, I--" Control. She needed it, but her body didn't care. It cared about now and f*ck and the way his hips flexed, grinding his cock deeper inside her.

"Give me this, Lexie." His voice was a coaxing rumble, the gentleness a thin mask over hard command. Each time he rocked into her was a little rougher as his patience unraveled. "Tell me my cock's the hottest thing I've ever f*cked you with."

"You know it is." She barely recognized her own voice, low and strained. Every muscle trembled, as much with tension as with bliss, a heavy anticipation that tangled her in knots.

He rewarded her confession with a long thrust that drove a cry from her throat. "Next time, I'll tie you open like this." It sounded like a promise--to himself or her, she couldn't tell. "I'll f*ck you slow."

Next time, because this had to be fast. Lex drew in a shaking breath and clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. "Dallas."

Another thrust. "I'll tie you up and suck your *." Again, harder. "F*ck you with my fingers, or something bigger. Maybe I'll let you choose. Wood or glass or steel."

Every word was a tease, a weapon, and knowing he was desperate enough to use them shook her restraint. One more quick thrust destroyed it, curling her toes as a throb of pleasure tore through her.

The noise that escaped her was barely human, all primal need and naked desire. Too much, too open, but she couldn't think enough to care, not with Dallas riding her release, dragging it out with the kind of f*cking she'd always imagined he'd like. Hard and demanding, their hips slamming together, the sound raw and slick.

Better. It could get even better, and all she had to do was reach for it. "Please." Lex clawed at his arms and bucked, sheer animal hunger driving away everything but him. "Please, baby--"

He hauled her half off the arm of the couch and cupped his hands under her knees, pushing them back toward her chest.

It should have been impossible to feel more pinned, more helpless, but the new angle was brutally sharp, and so goddamn deep. So full, and nothing held back. Lex opened her eyes and focused on his face, on his almost pained expression as he sped his thrusts, rough and frantic, his balls slapping against her ass.

The world was hazy around the edges, dulled by ecstasy--but not Dallas. She could see him as clearly as she could feel him--intense, fierce.

Hers.

He came with a snarl, his rhythm faltering, bleeding to quick, jerky thrusts before he slammed home with one final grunt and froze. A sound rattled free of him, barely coherent, but it echoed in her bones. "Lex."

She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The trapped feeling that had been so delicious only seconds earlier now tripped off panic, rising in her throat to choke her. It didn't dissipate when he lowered her legs and pulled her close to his chest, lifting her with him as he straightened.

"Lex?" His fingers smoothed through her hair, slow and gentle. "You with me?"

"I'm here." Here--and with no idea what to do next.

Dallas caught her chin and tilted her head back, but as soon as his mouth opened, the door rattled under a brisk knock. His brow furrowed as he glared past her. "If someone's not bleeding or invading, go the f*ck away."

Bren's low voice drifted through the door. "You're gonna want to see this."

Sighing, Dallas swung Lex up in his arms. He crossed the wide room to deposit her on the edge of his bed, then fastened his pants and swept up a discarded T-shirt for her. "Sorry, love. You know how it goes."

"It's business," she murmured, grateful for the distraction as she drew the soft cotton over her head.

Dallas didn't bother with a shirt or even buckling his belt. She could read his irritation in the muscles of his back, tense under his tattoos as he stalked to the door.

On the other side, Bren leaned against the doorframe, an ivory-colored envelope in his hand. "Messenger delivered it just now."

"Great." Dallas glared at the envelope like it contained live explosives, but after a moment he plucked it from Bren's hand. "Well, we knew it was coming. Have Rachel make us something to eat and pry Jas out of Noelle. Tell him I need him in my office in an hour."

"Anyone else?"

"I need you to stick close. And find Mad."

"Will do." He glanced past Dallas, and a hint of a smile curved the corner of his mouth. "Hi, Lex."

Dallas slammed the door in his face.

Lex didn't have time to be pissy about Bren's amusement. She couldn't stop staring at the envelope in Dallas's hand, at the thick but graceful slashes of royal purple ink across the front. "From Cerys?"

He returned to the bed and flipped the envelope, revealing an intricate orchid seal imprinted in purple wax. "Guess so."

The tattoo, the collar, the f*cking... "You'll want me to go with you, I guess."

Instead of answering, Dallas pulled a switchblade from his back pocket and flicked it open. The sharp edge sliced through wax and the envelope alike, and the scent of orchids assaulted her as he withdrew the letter and unfolded it.

It was concise, to the point. His gaze traveled from the top to the bottom of the letter twice before he turned it over to her wordlessly.

A summons, as she'd suspected. "It was inevitable."

Dallas dropped his knife on the dresser and reached for the whiskey. "Doesn't mean I have to like it." Forgoing glasses, he took a swig directly from the bottle before meeting her gaze. "I can't imagine you like the idea of going back to Two, but I need you with me."

For so many reasons that were strictly political--for her knowledge, for the sake of appearances. To watch his back and fight if necessary. But she suspected those reasons had little to do with why. "I understand."

He offered her the whiskey. "I'm going to be dealing with this most of the day. We'll leave tomorrow afternoon, with Bren and probably Mad."

"Anyone I should bring?"

"The queen of Sector Four." Dallas grinned at her before hauling on a shirt. "Anything we do, we do together, love. I agreed to it."

She realized with a jolt that he was right. She'd been thinking of sex when she'd written the words--hadn't she?--but they applied to everything. As far as the world was concerned, their names went together, and so did their authority. They still had personal shit to muddle through, but that took a back seat. They had to present a united, harmonious front, to their own people and everyone else.

Anything else meant weakness, and weakness in front of the other sector leaders meant death.