Beyond Control

chapter Eight



Their guest suite had been modeled after a nineteenth-century Parisian brothel, complete with wide, velvet-covered chaises, elaborate crown moldings, and gilt-edged wallpaper. Everything was decorated in shades of red and gold, opulent in a heavy, desperate sort of way, and Lex hated it on sight.

Cerys had chosen it purposefully, of that much she was sure. The woman never did anything by accident, but always by design. This room, with its low lighting and furnishings that looked cheap no matter their extravagant expense, was meant to remind Lex of her origins. Of her place.

No matter how far she ran, it said, she would always be a whore.

Mad was sitting on one of the sofas, smoking. Lex dropped beside him, kicked off her shoes, and plucked the cigarette from his hand. "I hope you had a better evening than we did."

"Hard to tell, sometimes, with Bren." Once she'd taken a puff, Mad rescued the cigarette and took a long drag. "Sometimes I think he's ready to blow a vein, and it turns out he's having the time of his life."

Bren glowered at them from the bar across the room. "This is my relaxed face."

Lex laughed. "Mad's right. It looks just like your I'm about to rip a bastard's spine out through his ears face."

"And all of his faces are a little busted." Mad tossed the rakish fall of hair from his eyes and grinned at Lex. "He wishes he was pretty like me."

"Mmm." She ran her thumb over his lower lip. "And you wish you were pretty like Dallas."

Mad bit the pad of her thumb and caught her wrist. "Where is our fearless leader?"

"On his way." She did her best to look innocent as she tilted her head. "The guy from Eight won't talk in front of simple-minded females like me, you know."

"Lucky you. He's more boring than God and all the angels." Mad dropped her hand back into her lap with a wink. "Speaking of higher powers, you keep your pretty little hands to yourself. I'll cuddle you all night long, but this--" his finger brushed her collar, "--means I'll answer to one vengeful motherf*cker if I get too friendly."

"You could help me blow him." The mental images were more reminiscence than imagination. "Wouldn't be the first time you'd licked my tongue and his cock."

"Sweet words won't change my mind," Mad informed her with mock severity, but she could see the heat of memory in his gaze, as well. He'd always taken pleasure as freely as he gave it, and the more warm bodies around him, the better.

"Too bad." She shifted on the couch until she was leaning against the opposite arm with her feet in Mad's lap. "I think Dallas is feeling a little wild tonight. But if you don't want to play..."

Rolling his eyes, he dropped his hands to her feet. He was clever with his fingers and knew how to push his thumbs right where her foot ached from her shoes. "Don't be dense, lovely. If Dallas is feeling frisky, even Bren and his busted face will jump in the pile with you."

Bren grunted before draining his drink. "You're sure as hell not getting any of this, though," he told Mad.

Mad winked at Lex. "We'll see, won't we?"

Spoken as if he had no doubt Bren would f*ck him, given half a chance. Then again, few people in the world had proven immune to Mad's charms. "You're terrible," Lex proclaimed. "And delicious."

"We're all--" The door crashed open hard enough to make him jump, and he jerked his hands away from Lex's feet as if he'd been caught with them down her pants.

Dallas was too furious to notice. He slammed the door shut behind him and kicked it for good measure, his face carved in forbidding lines. "I hate these motherf*ckers."

Whatever the bastard from Sector Eight had said to Dallas, it hadn't made him happy. Lex made a soothing noise and beckoned him. "Time to hide from them for a while."

Mad abandoned the sofa to make room for Dallas, who dropped to the plush cushions with a groan. "That's how I kept from wringing his damn neck. I thought about how disappointed you'd be if we had to waste the night shooting our way across two sectors to get home."

"What the hell did he say?" she asked.

Dallas snagged her with one arm and hauled her into his lap so she was straddling his thighs, her face level with his. Still scowling, he traced his thumb along her jaw. "He was impressed with how neatly you cut Colby's knees out from under him. He wants to buy a girl from Cerys and have me train her up like I did you."

A notion almost as laughable as it was horrible. "Someone doesn't understand how the concept works, hmm? A woman who'll speak her mind?"

"Like he could handle one." Dallas let his head thump back against the sofa and grinned up at her. "Besides, there's only one Lex."

"Only me." The tension started to seep from his muscles, and she stroked her hands up his arms. "Did you tell him to go f*ck himself?"

"Worse. I told him Cerys sent you to me just the way you are." He stroked her throat and the soft lace edging her collar. "I hope she sends him a clever little spy who jerks his territory out from under him. I don't care if it makes her stronger."

Bren couldn't let that stand. "You can't afford not to care," he told Dallas firmly. "Cerys is ruthless."

"Fine, I don't care tonight," Dallas amended. "He's already got it in his head to take one of Cerys's girls, and I was too f*cking pissed to talk him out of it."

Lex nuzzled his cheek. "Don't listen to Bren. You need to relax for a while, or you'll drive yourself nuts."

"Mmm." His hands fell to her hips, edging her closer. "You gonna help me relax?"

No matter what he'd promised before dinner, he couldn't mean to include Mad and Bren--especially since at least one of them had to pull first watch. Still, just knowing the other men could hear the gentle command was its own measure of arousal. Her skin prickled, and her nipples tightened. "Is that an order?"

He kept one hand on her hip and caught her chin with the other, his thumb coming to rest against her lips. "All night, all those bastards' eyes on you. They wish they owned you, even Cerys. But they don't, do they?"

She couldn't move her mouth under the bruising pressure of his thumb, so she shook her head.

"That's right. You're an O'Kane." He eased his thumb down, forcing her lips apart. "And you had your hand on my dick half the night. Get on your knees and finish what you started."

The urge to obey trembled through her. She wanted him in her mouth, but not as much as she wanted to challenge him with a little bite. So she did it literally, closing her teeth sharply on his thumb.

He laughed and drove his other hand into her hair, twisting as he surged to his feet and spilled her to the floor. "Fine, Lexie. I'll get just as hard putting you there myself. Maybe harder."

He held tight to her hair, the delicious pressure skirting close to pain, and her hand brushed his erection as she reached for his belt buckle. "That's how I like it. Hard enough to be a little rough."

"I know." He gave her hair an extra sharp tug as a fond smile curved his lips. "You got a taste of what you like. You want more? Give me what I like."

She glanced over her shoulder. Mad quirked one eyebrow at her from a large cushion, and Bren's fingers had constricted around his glass. "You're a tease, Dallas," he muttered darkly.

"I'm a selfish bastard," Dallas corrected, dragging Lex's head back around. "Ask them if they'll watch, Lex. Ask them if they'll do it because it makes you hot."

"I don't ask anyone for anything." She pulled his belt buckle open. "Nobody but you."

His eyes sparked, and his slow smile promised sex, the kind where you came so hard you'd ache for days. "That's my girl." He looked past her. "You two can make yourselves scarce or park your asses on the couch and enjoy the show. I'll return the favor when Cerys sends a girl around to bounce on your dicks."

Bren set his glass on the bar with a gentle thump. "Someone has to make sure Cerys doesn't send bullets or blades instead. I'll man the door."

"All right." Dallas stroked Lex's cheek. "And, Bren? Don't let anyone in. Not even one of the girls. I'm not in the mood to be interrupted."

"Yes, sir."

The door clicked shut, and Mad rose before circling to stand next to Dallas. For once, Lex couldn't decipher the odd look in his eyes. Assessment, maybe, or anticipation. "Sure you don't want a hand, boss? Or two? I'll put 'em wherever you want 'em and keep my dick to myself."

"Stay close," Dallas murmured, still caressing Lex's face. "If she doesn't get my f*cking pants open in the next ten seconds, I may have you spank her ass."

Not quite a tease, because he was fully capable of doing it. Lex turned to lick his wrist, running her tongue over the ink marking his skin, and jerked at his zipper. Her fingers shook when she wrapped them around the thick, hot length of his cock to guide it free.

He shuddered before easing her hand out of the way and gripping the shaft. "Hands at the small of your back, Lex. Mad, find something to tie them there."

He walked away, and Lex leaned toward Dallas as she crossed her wrists behind her back. "I thought you liked having me touch you."

Challenge didn't transcend the lust in his eyes as he stroked his fist up the length of his erection, but it came close. "You need your hands to get me off?"

There was no part of her she wouldn't use, her hands or voice or tongue. She rubbed her cheek against his fingers and licked them before continuing on to his hard, pulsing heat.

He groaned with the first touch of her tongue, and her victory was the involuntary twitch of his hips, pushing the crown of his cock past her lips. Rough fingertips dug into the back of her head, and Dallas's voice dropped to a low rumble. "I thought about this during that whole stupid show. I could've shown them a Sector Four barbarian. Demanded you blow me right there at the dinner table."

That and more, anything to draw those harsh noises of pleasure that echoed inside her, left her wet and desperate for relief. Lex pushed on, taking him deeper without his urging.

"F*ck." The word seemed torn from him against his will, but more followed, gruff and intense. "You would've done it. You would have let me f*ck your face, and they would have thought I owned you, because they're stupid f*cks. They'll never get it."

Cerys would. She understood the power a woman could have on her knees, the intense give and take of control that made a man like Dallas so dangerous.

And so delectable.

She didn't realize Mad had returned until his fingers slid down her arms. Silk followed, a sumptuous length of fabric that had undoubtedly been left for this purpose. Mad tied her wrists with a few deft movements and released her, but she could still feel him behind her, an extension of Dallas's will.

Delectable.

With her hands bound, she was finally free to move. Lex flexed her fingers, testing the silk. It held fast, and she turned her attention to licking the ridge around the head of Dallas's cock with her tongue. She flicked the sensitive spot just under the crown, tapped it with her tongue, and looked up to meet his eyes.

"Suck me," he whispered, the softness of the command not blunting it in the least. "Deep and hard and fast. Get me off."

A shudder tore through her. Maybe she'd exhausted his patience already, driven him past the point of prolonging his pleasure.

Or maybe he wanted to come because he couldn't wait to get his hands on her.

She moved--quick and deep, just like he'd said--her own excitement speeding her movements. He wanted so much, and she felt it all, especially when he growled and pushed against the back of her head.

"Take off her corset," he growled, and Mad reached around to tug at the laces crisscrossing her breasts.

So heavy and full. Lex moaned in the split second before one more thrust took him all the way into the back of her throat. She swallowed, held him there, her breath cut off as surely as her resistance. Arousal thrummed in her veins, bloomed within her until she was certain the rigid leather was all that held her in check. Without it, the cool air and Mad's hands and Dallas's eyes would drive her over the edge, and she'd explode.

Dallas snarled and dragged her head back, and the latches on her corset gave way just in time. Mad pulled it wide, and Dallas jerked his hand roughly over his dick before groaning his release. Semen spilled across her breasts, a primal mark of possession every bit as real as the collar and the ink--and as subtle as a hard left hook to the jaw.

She licked the corner of her mouth and tried to catch her breath. Dallas's gaze was riveted to her breasts, which heaved with each panting breath. "All yours," she rasped. "Is this what you wanted at dinner?"

"For starters." Dallas continued to watch her as Mad eased the corset out from under her bound arms. His hands were warm and strong but carefully, deliberately impersonal. Not even Ace would have tested Dallas with that possessive glint in his eyes.

When the fabric slipped away, Dallas touched the corner of Lex's mouth. "Mad?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Go jerk off on your own or wait for the hooker. I'll make it up to you."

Mad leaned in just enough to whisper against Lex's ear. "Have fun, honey." Then his heat vanished, and there was no one left but Dallas, looming over her with an insatiable hunger in his eyes.

She didn't speak. There was nothing to say--not yet.

Dallas took his time refastening his pants and shedding his vest. He looked out of place in the delicate surroundings, his broad, tattooed chest too raw and unrelentingly uncivilized.

He didn't match the polite lie of a fancy French whorehouse, but his sudden, cocky grin flipped that thought on its head. Then the room looked out of place around Dallas, as if he was the one who truly belonged and the whole place was flawed for not bending reality to suit him.

Everything else did. Even her.

After an endless silence, Dallas traced her jaw and put the tip of his finger under her chin. "I'm feeling possessive tonight, Lexie love, so here's your choice. I can untie you and we can have a little tease and cuddle...or you can stand up and go into the bedroom. If you do that, I'm going to play with you until you think you can't take it anymore, and then I'm going to ride you so hard your legs won't work in the morning. Pick one."

"Just cuddling?" She managed to climb to her feet. "Don't be such a girl, Declan."

"Hey, I already got mine." His gaze flicked to her chest, and she could taste the smugness in the air. "If you want your turn, less backtalk, more walking."

As if he didn't know the truth. "There's more to sex, the really good kind, than orgasms." She turned for the bedroom, but instead of his steps trailing hers, he veered off into the washroom.

Lex waited, one knee propped on the velvet-covered bench at the foot of the bed. Mirrors lined the walls, inset into the panels laden with delicate, fussy woodwork. Each one was framed with drapes that could be released to cover the mirrors.

They were open now, and reflected Dallas in dizzying multitude when he returned with a damp towel in hand. He swiped it over her breasts with a teasing tenderness that undercut his low, intense words. "Obedience, Lex. I'm going to take it tonight." His knuckles grazed one nipple, and he paused to tug on it. "But you go ahead and be as sassy as you want. I'll get off on shutting you up."

She shivered, as much from the dark look in his eyes as the sensual contact. "You always do."

His brows drew together as he tossed aside the towel and grabbed her hips. He hauled her off the bench, then jerked her pants open roughly. "That's my girl. Always going for blood."

Because she couldn't stop, even when her words kindled that stormy frown. "Why don't you ask yourself why you like it so much when I hiss at you?"

"Who gives a f*ck why?" He hooked her pants and underwear and dragged both down her legs. "I'm not worried about psychology with your p-ssy two inches from my face, love. Lift your foot."

She began to obey automatically, and that alone was enough to slam her heel back down on the floor.

"No?" No anger in the word, just amusement, so she wasn't ready when Dallas lunged. His shoulder thumped against her abdomen as his hand slapped down on her ass, and then he was on his feet with her dangling over his shoulder.

Instead of a shiver, this time it was a shudder, one that shook her whole body and left her nipples in hard points that got even harder when they rubbed against the hot, bare skin of his back.

Dallas circled the bed and dropped her onto her stomach with her feet on the floor. Nothing had been left to chance in the design of the furniture, even the height of the bed. It was high enough to support her upper body once Dallas stripped away her pants and nudged her feet apart, and no matter which way she turned her head, she was treated to her own reflection--her body bent submissively in front of him and her wrists deftly bound at the small of her back.

With her heels gone, Lex stood stretched up on her toes, naked and helpless. She turned her cheek to the soft fabric covering the bed and closed her eyes, waiting for the slow burn of continuously flexed muscle to start.

"You gonna let me be sweet to you now, Lexie?" His fingertips grazed the curve of her ass. "I don't think you are. I don't think you like it as much when I'm sweet to you."

He didn't wait for an answer--not that she was willing to give one. He crossed the room, footsteps fading bit by bit as he moved, and she kept her eyes shut. Waited.

It didn't take long for him to return. Sensuous silk slithered over her back, more like the fabric looped around her wrist. Dallas left it there and smoothed both hands down her sides until his fingers dug into her hips. One foot nudged the inside of her ankle. "Open wider."

It left her even more exposed, with cool air on her heated flesh and the teasing promise of Dallas's touch. "Like this?"

"Good girl." He slid one hand between her legs, fingers slicking over her p-ssy before he spread her outer lips wide and plunged one broad finger inside her. Pleasure buzzed in her ears, and she clenched around him. "How long have you been wet? Did it get you hot, fondling my dick under the dinner table?"

"Yes." She could barely move, but it didn't stop her from trying. "I wanted to f*ck you then."

"Not much of a show, was it?" He worked his finger in and out, shallow, lazy strokes that brushed over sensitive spots without enough pressure to do more than taunt. "Those bastards couldn't handle watching you and Noelle writhe on each other."

"Neither can you."

"Smartass." He swatted her ass with his free hand, a mere warning slap before his hand fell again in earnest.

The third blow left her skin burning, and she bit her lip to hold back a moan. "F*ck."

"You'll have to settle for my hand tonight," he murmured as his finger resumed its leisurely thrusting. "Unless you come without asking. That might earn you a round with my belt."

Would he do it while he f*cked her, lay the leather across her back every time an orgasm swept her into its clutches, mixing ecstasy and pain until she couldn't separate them anymore? "I don't need permission to find pleasure. You wouldn't stop me."

Rough fingers twisted in her hair, and he dragged her head up until she was forced to meet his gaze in the mirror. His expression was rough, a short step from wild. "I never used to." It was barely more than a whisper, but the words were stern. Hard. "But then, you weren't wearing my collar before, were you, love? You ask permission now."

It was instinct to struggle, to make him earn that control. He clenched his hand, his grip steady and implacable, and when she twisted he pulled his finger out of her and slapped her ass again. "Tell me you understand. I want to hear it. If you come without asking, you might get my belt." He leaned over her, his breath warm on her cheek. "Or maybe I'll just stop altogether. You'll have to take that risk if you're feeling bratty."

Lex met his eyes in the mirror without guarding her own hunger. "I understand."

"Good." He tugged at her hair, sending another jolt through her, before releasing it to fall around her face. "Because you're mine, honey. And I'm not in a sharing sort of mood tonight."

She bowed her head to rest her forehead on the bed. "I didn't ask you to."

Dallas dragged his hand from the nape of her neck to the small of her back. "I know, but I promised. I thought I'd be able to go through with it, but I couldn't. Not tonight. Not here."

Not in someone else's territory, when everything else was far from under his control. Lex hummed softly and rocked up against his hand. "You have me."

She watched his reflection as he retrieved one swath of silk and smoothed it between his fingers. "Crawl up on the bed. Kneeling, legs together."

She wiggled her hands in their bindings. "I can't. It's too high without my hands."

Dallas dipped into his back pocket and pulled out a familiar knife. The blade caught the light, twinkling dangerously, as he flipped it open. "Be still," he warned her, then slipped the steel beneath the silk. The flat of the blade brushed her arm, cool against heated flesh, but the sharp edge sliced through the fabric before she even thought of moving.

Her hands slipped free, and Lex rubbed her wrists. "Kneeling, legs together?"

Laughing, he eased the knife shut. "For now, love."

She climbed on the bed, knees together, but instead of leaning forward on all fours, she sat back on her heels. It wasn't what he'd meant--he wanted her bent over, so he could touch her p-ssy even after he tied her up--but he wasn't the only one with demands tonight.

He'd get exactly what he commanded. No more, no less.

In the mirror, his reflection watched her with an impassive expression and unreadable eyes. Anything could have been going on behind that blank mask as he put his knife away and reached for the silk again. He lifted it...

And settled it across her eyes.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as he tied it, his knuckles brushing her hair. The world drew in on itself, condensed until the only thing that existed was waiting. Anticipating the next touch.

It came in the form of roughened fingertips tracing along the front of her throat. "You see everything, don't you?"

"I--" Her voice broke, and she had to clear her throat. "I try to."

"You've had to."

"Yes."

His hand closed around her throat, over her collar. Not tightly enough to restrict her breathing, but his grip was firm. Possessive. "Not anymore. Not with me."

A lifetime's habit didn't stop like that, with words. "You'll have to show me how."

He laughed right next to her ear before his touch disappeared. Steps circled, soft and muffled. The next time he spoke, he was somewhere to her left, and she turned her face toward the sound of his voice. "I'm going to show you a lot of things, Lexie."

She bit her lip to hide a smile. "Like what?"

No answer. Leather whispered over leather--his belt pulling free of his pants--followed by silence. Then he said, "Hands and knees, Lex. Crawl toward my voice."

Right in front of her.

They'd flirted with this game before, and Lex knew how it went. Soon, her body would respond effortlessly, without thought. For now, she'd have to make the conscious decision to obey.

She reached out, creeping forward until her hands hit the bed. Then she began to crawl.

He stopped her with a hand in her hair. He wrapped the length around his palm this time and used the grip to haul her head up until only her fingertips brushed the mattress.

His mouth on hers was a shock, as much a shock as the gentleness of his kiss while he held her neck craned back at such a severe angle. She barely remembered to leave her hands on the bed as she parted her lips and traced her tongue over his lips. He caught the tip of it between his teeth in a warning bite, and his groan vibrated through her as he chased her tongue back into her mouth with his own.

Harder now, almost punishing. Lex whimpered as thought vanished, and she reached up to thread her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

Dallas bit her lower lip as he eased back, but only far enough to whisper a rough directive. "F*ck yourself with your hand. Not slow, either. I want to hear that slick, delicious sound. Fingers shoving deep into a hungry p-ssy."

Not being able to see magnified everything--the sound of his breaths, slow and measured, and the smell of him, leather and spice. Even her own touch, cool fingers on warmer skin. She started at her throat, slipped over the collar that marked her as his and down, pausing to brush one nipple as she eased her knees apart.

Stomach, hip. She tracked her progress with a shiver and then a startled moan when she reached her p-ssy, wet and aching with the kind of arousal that took only a touch to spin off into desperate hunger.

Quickly, she circled her *, but just once, and moved on, low enough to slide inside. She thrust two fingers deep and held them there, the heel of her hand pressed hard against her slippery flesh.

"No wonder Noelle's such an unrepentant brat. You're a bad influence." Disapproving words, wrapped in amused warmth. Dallas jerked on her hair, hauling her fully upright. "Maybe I should ask Jas how he feels about that."

As if she gave a damn. "Should I care what he thinks about it?"

Suddenly, Dallas was there, his breath against her ear, his free hand covering hers where it pressed between her legs. "What if he wanted to take his belt to your ass for it? Would you want the collar gone if I tied you over my bench and let him whip you over the edge? Or maybe Mad or Bren. Or all three of them."

She wanted to say yes, to give him a line he couldn't cross--but this wasn't it. "No," she whispered. "I wouldn't want it gone."

He sucked in a sharp breath, and the hand blanketing hers trembled. Simple words of submission, but if his groan was any indication, they inflamed him. He cupped her breast, his thumb and forefinger closing on her taut nipple. "F*ck yourself, Lex. Now."

She moved, rocking her hand in a grind that gave way too quickly to f*cking, sharp, hard thrusts of her fingers that splintered tingles up her spine until only his grip on her hair kept her upright.

That, and the fact that he hadn't yet given her permission to sink to the bed.

She had no warning before his mouth closed around her nipple. He was simply there, rough heat, his teeth digging into soft flesh and his tongue lashing back and forth, flicking over her in time with her thrusting fingers.

Her shaking legs would barely hold her. She gasped his name, and the sound was still dying on her lips when she orgasmed. It singed her all over, a burning pleasure quick enough to wrench a cry from her throat but deep enough to curl her toes. Lex crooked her fingers, desperate to prolong it.

He let her ride the waves, but when the final one shuddered through her, he gripped her wrist and dragged her hand away. "Looks like you need a lesson in asking first, don't you, love?"

F*ck. She swallowed hard. "I forgot."

"I noticed." His lips brushed her ear in a teasing, reassuring kiss before he planted one hand in the center of her chest and pushed. "Fold your arms behind you and lie back."

She was still kneeling. Bending back on the bed, especially with her arms beneath her, would leave her helpless and at his mercy. "I'm trusting you," she murmured, then yielded to the pressure of his hand.

Once her head and shoulders rested on the bed, Dallas drew both hands down her body, pausing to tweak her nipples before his fingers came to rest on her upper thighs. He circled his thumbs, stroking her p-ssy before spreading her outer lips wide.

Not just at his mercy. On display, open and bare. Helpless. He gave her a silent eternity to feel it before answering, "Trust is the point, love."

His tongue found her *.

Her legs flexed, but he held her hips still. She was still buzzing, and the inexorably direct contact almost hurt...for a heartbeat. Then the buzzing mellowed into heat, and Lex moaned. "Dallas..."

No reply beyond the clever swipe of his tongue. He knew how to toy with her, when to ease off and build anticipation with slow licks that dragged the rough flat of his tongue over every sensitive spot, and when to return to hard and fast to work her * with arrogant assurance.

He hauled her closer and closer to the edge, until it was sharp enough to cut. Heat built in her belly until her entire body tensed in anticipation--

And he lifted his head.

She groaned and gripped the bedspread in one fist. "Don't stop, damn it."

His chuckle flowed over her. "I'm saving you from yourself, Lexie. I don't think you were about to ask if you could come."

She'd thought that his reasons didn't matter, but the knot in the pit of her stomach said otherwise. "Tell me why first."

The bed tilted by her head, and she could feel him looming over her, his weight braced with one hand on the mattress. He tugged at the silk, lifting it up and away from her eyes. His face filled her vision, a strong jaw with a day's worth of stubble, his crooked nose and those dark, dangerous eyes.

"Because I'm a selfish bastard," he answered, stroking her cheek. "When a woman's mine, she doesn't take pleasure. I give it to her."

Selfish, yes, and conceited. But she'd half expected him to need to prove there wasn't anything he didn't own, including her, so the answer filled her with relief instead of rage. "Then give it to me." Her gaze locked with his. "Let me come. Please."

"Mmm." He straightened and stroked her trembling inner thighs. His thumb touched her *, jolting her back toward arousal as he worked two broad fingers into her body. "Not yet. Remember to ask when you're close this time, and I'll consider it. Or we can do this all night."

Lost in desire, she rocked her hips. "I will. I'll ask."

"We'll see." The tattoos wrapped around his arms rippled with his flexing muscles, each one working in graceful concert for the sole purpose of f*cking into her, faster and harder with each advance, but when she tried to push up, he planted his other hand on her belly and pinned her against the bed.

Caught again, and this time Lex didn't hold back. Waves of hot, insistent bliss began to build, teasing her with how very, very good she could feel--if she'd only let go.

"Please," she whispered, writhing against his hand. "Can I--holy f*ck, please. Please let me come--"

"Who gets to decide, Lexie?"

"You." She squeezed her eyes shut as her breath tangled on a sob. "You do, you decide."

"That's right." His fingers crooked, working her G-spot, shoving her toward oblivion. Testing her. "Why, honey? Tell me why."

She barely had the wits to answer, and her voice sounded far away and strained. "Because I'm yours."

"You're mine," he agreed. So warm, so approving. His voice wrapped around her as his thumb settled on her *, the perfect, piercing counterpoint. "So come for me."

Lex tensed, and her eyes snapped open. How did he do it, have her body responding to the words as if triggered for exactly that? Her arms were going numb, her muscles were cramping, and she didn't give a flying f*ck. All that mattered was his hand, his fingers, and the sheer, overwhelming ecstasy flooding her.

"Just like that, love." He dragged her through her climax with relentless stroking and his thumb working in circles that wouldn't stop. "Feels so good to let go, doesn't it?"

Good didn't describe the torturous pleasure. "Dallas--" Her voice shuddered, broke.

"Want something, honey?"

So satisfied. So smug. "F*ck you," she panted.

Laughing, Dallas pulled his fingers free of her body. "Not unless you ask nicely." He traced his slick fingertips over her nipple. Before she could respond, he bent to capture the stiff peak between his lips, sucking the taste of her from her skin with an appreciative rumble.

She'd given him so much, and still he wanted more. Everything. "I won't ask."

"You will." Rough hands closed around her shoulders without warning. She barely had time to smack his arm with one numb hand before he dragged her from the bed and flipped her to her stomach.

The edge of the mattress bit into her abdomen as he braced his thighs on either side of hers and pinned her in place. Lex struck at him, but he caught her arms and held them tight. "You will," he echoed, "but maybe not tonight."

He'd f*ck her like this, pinned down and protesting.

He'd do it.

The thought shuddered through her, echoing in rhythmic pulses of hunger that left her wetter than ever, her p-ssy swollen and her upper thighs slick. "No." Another pulse as she breathed the denial. The plea. "Don't."

Dallas gripped both wrists in one hand. The other trailed up her spine as he ground his leather-encased cock against her ass. "I know this is the game you want to play, but that's not how it works, honey. You don't get to skip straight to this. You're not ready."

She had to bite her lip to hold back a cry of sheer frustration. He not only craved her submission to his touch, he had to define exactly how she gave it to him--and her clumsy offerings always seemed to be wrong. "Then can I get up now?"

"No." He stroked her back. "I want to f*ck you, just like this. I wanna hold you down and ride you so damn deep we're both screaming for mercy. You don't have to beg. You don't even have to ask, not tonight. But you have to tell me you want it, because you're not the only one who isn't ready for that game."

The hint of vulnerability in his words melted her resistance. "How can you still wonder? I want you. I always want you--I always have."

The backs of his fingers grazed her ass as he jerked at his pants, and she knew she'd won. Maybe more than one battle, judging from the rough way he pushed her feet wide and repositioned himself between her thighs.

"Someday." He guided her arms down to her sides and folded her fingers around the edge of the mattress. She had no warning before his fingers twisted into her, driving a cry from her throat, pushing deep as his thumb teased between her ass cheeks. "Someday, we'll play your game, Lexie. Right out to the edge and over it. That's a promise."

A promise, and Declan O'Kane never went back on his word.

Lex gripped the mattress. "I need you with me this time."

He pumped his fingers lazily--once, twice--only to withdraw them and trace one slick fingertip up to push against her ass. "You'll get my cock as soon as I decide where I want to put it."

She hissed in a breath. "Anywhere."

"That's what I like to hear," he whispered as the blunt head of his cock prodded her p-ssy. One long rock took him inside, thick and hard and stretching her inner muscles, and he groaned and wrapped both hands around her shoulders. "You'll let me f*ck you any goddamn way I want, won't you?"

Lex couldn't answer, not with Dallas walking the edge of her darkest fantasies. She tried, went so far as to open her mouth, but all that emerged was a pleading whimper. In response, he tightened his grip on her shoulders, holding her in place for a single hard thrust--rough, claiming.

Fire.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as she tried to center herself, but Dallas stripped it all away with another deep drive of his hips. Fast, faster than her racing heart.

Exactly what she wanted.

His satisfied groans rose behind her, raw animal sounds that prickled over her skin and punctuated his speeding thrusts. He cracked his open palm across her ass with his next advance and growled. "Up on your elbows," he commanded, pulling back on one shoulder to lift her upper body. "I want to watch your tits bounce in those ridiculous f*cking mirrors."

He wanted her to watch, to see the quick slam of his cock into her p-ssy. To watch him take her.

She arched her back and gave it to him--but not too easy. "Motherf*cker." Reaching up, she slipped her fingers into his hair and pulled. Hard.

Dallas just laughed and f*cked her faster. Oh, he liked the hint of pain, almost as much as he liked the control.

And he had it. He shifted her hips with one hand, guiding her back into a deeper arch. He always knew just how to f*ck her with his fingers--when to hold off and when to drive her higher--but this was different. Possessive. Desperate.

Fierce.

When she found his reflection in the mirror, the truth hit her as hard as his next thrust. He was wild, his lips parted in a needy snarl, his eyes narrowed and dark, so dark. Every inch of control he gained over her stripped away a layer of the control he had over himself.

Give and take. Not about bodies, or even the breathless ecstasy lighting her up from the inside out. Suddenly, it made sense, and she knew what he really needed.

Every thrust bordered on pain now, grinding her against the bed. She could barely speak, but she managed to hold his gaze in the mirror and let him see her truth. "You have me," she rasped. "I'm yours."

He shuddered, his fingers digging bruises into her skin. "Come for me. Come all over me."

Her head hit his shoulder. She couldn't stop shaking, but there was something, something-- "Harder."

"No." One hand caged her throat as he slammed into her with a grunt. "Just like this." Another thrust, angled just right and riding the sharp edge of too much. "Just hard enough."

His hand tightened a little, and Lex shuddered. She gripped his wrist, her nails digging in to his skin. "More."

"Filthy girl." His lips crushed against her ear, teeth scraping her lobe as he carefully, oh-so-slowly tightened his fingers. "You want it rough and raw," he rasped in a low whisper. "I'll give you that, love. I'll give you the f*cking world."

Yes. The world he spoke of, beautiful and bright, spun around her in dizzying, white-hot circles. The pressure of Dallas's hand collided with the pressure building inside her--until it all exploded in a blinding, choking rush. And this time he was there, riding her ecstasy, his obscene torrent of words reduced to a guttural snarl of her name as he came inside her.

Her knees wouldn't hold her. As soon as the hand around her throat eased, Lex stumbled. Dallas caught her and swung her up onto the bed, though he didn't seem particularly steady, either.

It didn't stop him from pushing her hair back from her face and brushing a soft kiss to her lips. "You with me, darling?"

Her tongue felt thick, useless, but she managed a slow nod.

"Good. I'll be right back."

The mattress shifted, Lex opened her eyes and watched the low light gild the hard, muscled lines of his Dallas's body as he stripped off his clothes. "The lamps should have voice controls."

"Damn waste of resources," he grumbled, but she noticed he still took advantage of it, sliding into bed beside her before ordering the lights to a bare glow.

His warmth bolstered the soft haze of pleasure that still blurred the world around its edges, and Lex curled up in his arms. "The big meeting's tomorrow?"

"Mmm. A few hours of backbiting and arguing while everyone circles like stray dogs. And, if we're really lucky, maybe an assassination attempt by lunch."

She might have laughed--if it hadn't been so terribly likely. "Watch yourself, okay?"

He curled a hand around her rib cage, spreading his fingers until his thumb brushed her breast. "You, too. And don't you try'n ditch Mad, either. If he loses sight of you outside this room, I'll beat his ass down."

"I wouldn't." Wandering around Sector Two with no backup appealed to her about as much as sticking her hand in a snake pit.

"Good. I don't like this place. Don't like letting you out of my sight." His sigh tickled her temple. "Not just for your benefit, either. I don't have a damn clue how I'll keep my temper tomorrow."

He'd do it, like so many other things, because he had to. She turned her face and kissed his jaw. "It'll be over soon."

"Yeah? Do I get a reward for getting through the day without stabbing anyone?"

She rubbed one bare leg over his. "I'll think of something creative."

His laughter was a low rumble that vibrated through her as he rolled her beneath him. "I like you like this," he murmured against her lips. "Sleepy and sweaty and disheveled. Sexiest f*cking thing in the world."

Any other time, she might have fought the pleasure that rose with his words. But here, now, the satisfaction seemed not only acceptable but necessary.

This was what it meant, the collar. The marks.

She didn't hold back the slow smile that curved her lips. "Don't you forget it."





Rachel



You can do this. Rachel wrapped her hand around the slightly crooked door handle and hesitated. She'd wanted this tattoo for too long to punk out now, just because Ace was the man for the job. She was an O'Kane, and he laid O'Kane ink.

Pure and simple.

The door creaked as she pushed it open. Ace stood next to a table, straightening his pens and markers. He didn't turn or even look up, but his voice washed over her, warm and wry. "Rachel."

"It's two o'clock." She dragged her gaze away from the muscled lines of shoulders, bare under his white wifebeater. "Are you ready for me?"

"Of course." He glanced back with one of those easy smiles she hadn't seen in too long. "Hop up on my table, angel, and tell me what your heart desires."

For a moment, all her heart did was shudder to a halt. She shook it off and climbed onto the table. "The tattoo we talked about--the O'Kane emblem across my chest."

His gaze settled on her chest, and his smile took on an edge of teasing. "How big are we talking?"

Her cheeks heated, and she cursed herself for wearing the sexy retro getup Trix had picked out for her. The capris were okay, and she'd worn the outfit specifically for the tight strapless top, since it meant she might not have to strip half-naked for her tattoo.

Right now, though, it just felt like she'd tried too hard.

She cleared her throat. "You're the artist. You know what would look good."

"Damn near anything." But he relented and dropped to his stool. "Hanging out with that city boy's bad for your constitution, angel. I haven't seen you blush that pink in years."

"Maybe you haven't been paying attention."

"You think not, huh?"

He'd been paying attention. Watching. Biding his time, and that was the part that made her irrationally angry--because now it was too late. "I think I want my tattoo."

Ace sighed and rolled his stool back to the table that held his pens. "I can do a sketch on paper first if you want, but if you just want our logo..."

"That's all I want."

"Message received, angel." He rose and returned with a collection of blue markers clenched loosely in his fist. "Wiggle that top down. I need to see what I'm working with."

She glanced down. "It's not low enough?"

He didn't touch her, not with his fingers. Instead, he took the capped tip of the marker and set it against her skin, just beneath the hollow of her throat. "The logo's shaped kind of like an inverted triangle." He dragged the tip of the marker along her collarbone and down the inside curve of her breast. "The hilts of the daggers stick out a little, but for the most part it'll nestle nice and sweet, right between your tits."

He'd need room to work, and the way he traced the pen over her flesh made her realize something else--the shirt would pull at her skin, distorting the tattoo.

It had to go, and making a big deal out of that could reveal far more than her body.

Wordlessly, she tugged the fabric down, doubling it over the wide belt cinched around her waist.

"There we are." His gaze was tangible, a warmth that prickled over her skin as he studied her. It wasn't even all that lascivious--she'd seen Ace ogle women's breasts plenty of times. This was something else, something more. This was the deadly serious artist who lived beneath Ace's joking exterior, studying her like she was a masterpiece he intended to improve.

The intensity drew her attention to his hands. Strong, but capable of such tiny, intricate work. And skilled in other ways--ways she couldn't afford to remember just now.

Not that she could stop. The memory seized her, more sensation than recollection, of hot breath on the side of her neck as those hands roamed her body, eased under denim and lace to tease and then demand. She could still hear the music, feel the way he'd matched the rhythm beat for beat with slippery circles on her *.

She'd danced with him exactly once, a harmless encounter that had turned into something else entirely, a grinding, pulsing need that had culminated in a single perfect orgasm--

--and had ended with him walking away as if it had never happened.

Rachel looked away again, fixing her stare on the corner of the table behind him. She had to break the silence, but safe topics of conversation were practically nonexistent. "How long will Dallas and the others be gone?"

"A few days, tops." He caught the cap of one marker between his teeth and pulled it off, his gaze still riveted to her chest. "No way will Dallas keep Lex in Two a minute longer than he has to."

"No, I guess not."

"Big, I think." He didn't offer a segue, just traced one fingertip beneath her collarbone, from one shoulder to the other. "Following all these pretty curves. Make a statement, eh?"

She hadn't thought this through. Ace was touchy-feely anyway, but when he was in the zone, he got downright pornographic. "Don't you have a stencil for it or something?"

"What, that fancy city shit?" He touched the cool tip of the marker to her skin and drew the first line, a swooping curve that must have been the top of the skull. "I save the tech for the ink, honey. You know that."

"Sure." If she shivered, he'd have to wipe away the lines and start over. The threat of it kept her still, silent, and she closed her eyes.

One large, warm hand folded over her shoulder, bracing her body as he leaned closer. His breath skated over her when he exhaled, tightening her nipples to aching points. "So tell me what gossip I've been missing lately. I hear you're showing Bren's wildcat around."

"Six." Rachel cleared her throat. "Her name is Six."

"I know." He edged the marker lower, dipping between her breasts. "Is she as snarly as she looks? I don't even dare smile at her. She looks like she'd gnaw my face off."

Six was scared, out of her element. Traumatized. "If you smile at her, she'll probably think you're about to eat her. Face it--she might seem snarly, but you're the big, bad wolf."

"Me? Never." He peeked up with a teasing grin. "I'm bad, and sure, I'm big...but I'm harmless as a kitten."

Rachel grimaced. "Everything's a dick joke to you, isn't it? You couldn't hold a serious conversation if I put it in a f*cking bucket for you."

That wiped away his smile. "I didn't think you were serious. Shit, Rachel. That girl beat Wilson Trent to death with her bare f*cking hands. I'm a little scared of her."

God, she didn't want to talk to him, to get wrapped up in trying to figure him out again. "It's complicated. Don't give her a hard time, all right?"

"All right, angel." He settled back into sketching, working in silence beyond the rasp of the marker and the slow, even sound of his breaths. Every once in a while he switched to a different pen, laying thick lines around the edges and going back with a fine-point pen to tease out details.

He finished the guide sketch quickly and turned back toward the low table, and Rachel took advantage of his distraction to rub the goose bumps off her arms. "Can I lie down? The needles make me woozy."

Ace tilted his head toward the chair. "Why don't you sit there? It'll make it easier to move around, if I need a better angle."

A casual request, but everyone knew what kind of shit went down in Ace's tattoo chair. She swallowed hard, pushed away the mental images, and slid off the table. "Fine."

He sighed as she settled onto the leather. "Now you're looking at me like I'm the big bad wolf. You don't have to worry about me, and neither does your city boy. I don't play that dirty."

It stung, but only because it was so far from the truth. "I'm not arrogant or vain enough to think you can't keep your hands off me."

"It wasn't an insult." He slid into place in front of her, scooting his stool between her legs. "No man with a working dick wouldn't be tempted, angel. Trust me."

"Why should I?" Rhetorical enough to be safe...and earnest enough to be dangerous.

Ace stared up at her in silence for a moment--long enough to remind her that he was mere inches away and her shirt was wrapped around her waist. If he bent his head, just a little, he could have his mouth on her bare skin, her breasts, and something about the tightness in his eyes and the sudden unsteadiness of his breathing made it seem like a possibility.

But when he leaned in, it was only to reach past her for a mirror.

Jesus, she was a mess. Her skin was flushed, from her cheeks down under the sketch he'd inked between her breasts, and even her hair was disheveled.

She looked like he'd f*cked her already.

Ace held the mirror steady and dipped his head to catch her eyes. There was something profoundly gentle in the way he smiled at her, not wicked or teasing, and all the more dangerous because of that tenderness. "Does the sketch look all right?"

"It's fine," she murmured breathlessly.

"Good." Once the mirror was back on the table, Ace returned with the tattoo gun and brushed a stray lock of Rachel's hair out of the way. "This is bigger than your last one, but it's simpler. Just the black. I'll go easy, but if it hurts or you need a second, you ask, all right?"

"Okay." She clenched her fists as he poured out the ink caps and turned on the machine.

Pain came with the first touch of the needle. Not much at first, just the initial shock that almost vanished in the next moment. Then it bloomed into a burning ache, a low-level irritation that couldn't quite distract her from the hand he placed above the spot he was working on, his fingertips brushing her throat and his thumb riding the curve of her breast.

He'd said something to her months ago, when she'd first mentioned the tattoo. That laying ink over sensitive skin and bone could be excruciating. This was sharp and dull, throbbing through her slowly at first and then swelling into a prickling wave.

She almost begged him to stop, had to dig her teeth into her tongue to hold back the plea. Then the edge of pain subsided, a wave flowing back out to sea only to be replaced with the crash of something else, hot and blurry.

"Stay with me, angel." A gloved finger touched her cheek, tilting her head. "I need to know what kind of fuzzy you're getting."

She rubbed the back of her head against the chair and tried to bring the room back into focus. "Ace."

"Still good?"

No, not good, but somehow she knew it could be. "So easy," she whispered.

Concern furrowed his brow, and the buzzing of the machine cut off. Ace filled her vision, patted her cheek. "Look at me, Rachel."

She couldn't. Instead, she squeezed her eyes shut and tilted her head back. "Just finish. Please."

The buzz resumed a moment later, followed by the brain-scrambling, blissful pain. "I'll take care of you, Rachel. Doesn't matter what's between us or why. Or who. I've always got your back. You hear me, girl?"

"Yes." But it didn't mean anything. The real problem was why she couldn't seem to let go.

"If you want me to keep going, you're going to have to talk to me. Prove you're not about to pass the hell out." He wiped at her skin, then moved his hand down, cupping the outer curve of her breast. "I don't care if you sing or recite the alphabet, just talk."

"I can't." She tried to drag in a breath, but it sounded more like a sob. "I don't ever know what to say to you."

He made a soothing noise as the pain spread along her shoulder. "Then I'll talk."

He did, of random things like Noelle's dancing and the bar and what was happening in Sector Three. About the latest gossip out of the border whorehouses and who was favored to win the next round of cage fights.

Nothing too heavy, nothing personal. Nothing real.

Cruz talked to her, told her about the pain of his past and his hopes for the future. He was honest in a way she wasn't sure Ace knew how to be for longer than a few stolen moments at a time. Cruz was good, decent--

And only the worst kind of woman would be sitting there right now, wishing Ace would kiss her, just once.

A tear seeped out of the corner of Rachel's eye, and she let it track down into her hair as she breathed deep and focused on the pain instead of letting it fuzz away into the dark corners of her mind.

She deserved to feel every single sting.