Luke stared down at me, and when he lifted a hand to cup my face, my heart started to race. When he lowered his head to brush his lips against mine, my breath caught, then squeezed inside my lungs.

Damn.

We ended up backing into one of the doorways of a nearby business, dark now, the closed sign telling us when we could find them open again. His hands held my face as he came back for another taste, and then another, his tongue slowly exploring my mouth even as I slid mine into his. I caught his tongue between my teeth and bit him gently, whimpering as he growled in his throat and pressed his body closer.

His cock was hard against my belly and I moaned as he rocked his hips.

He lifted his head, staring down at me and I licked my lips, enjoying the taste he'd left there. Scotch...and him.

“Luke.” My voice was breathless and I could feel my pulse pounding in my chest.

He pressed his mouth to my neck and I arched my head to the side, shivering as stubble rasped against sensitive skin.

“Do you want to come back to my place?”

At first, he didn’t reply, but then he straightened, looking at me with eyes that seemed to burn. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more. But…”

He stroked a hand down and gripped my hip. Through the material of my dress, his thumb stroked, around and around, stoking the heat inside me.

“I'm going to be upfront about this. I won’t call you. You won’t see me again, except maybe on the dance floor. I don't do repeats.”

“That sounds about perfect.”

***

We practically stumbled inside my apartment, hands and mouths all over each other. He was still kicking the door closed when I turned on him and grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking upward. I wanted to see if he looked as good without it as he did with it.

Damn. He did.

His mouth closed over mine the second the shirt cleared his head, and I found myself pinned between him and the door. That suited me just fine. It was even better when he caught my hips and lifted me, bracing my weight using only his body. My dress rucked up around my waist as his hand worked its way between us. I heard his zipper, then felt his finger brush over the crotch of my panties before pulling it aside.

Foil tore and I whimpered as I felt the head of his cock pressing against me.

“Yes, please,” I gasped out.

His mouth gentled on mine and I tangled my hands in his hair.

He eased into me, one hand stroking up my thigh as he lifted his head, staring into my eyes. He was big and thick and I winced a little as I worked to accommodate him. It was a delicious kind of pain and it only made me wetter. And that made it easier to take him.

I hadn't expected him to take it easy. Most guys who wanted one-night stands weren't the slow and sweet type. Especially not guys who I fully expected to be fucking me against the door.

Fuck that.

If I'd wanted tender, I'd have picked up a guy at an art gallery or wherever the hell guys like that hung out.

I twisted myself on the thick length stretching me, forcing him into me faster. He tensed, air hissing between his teeth as I used the arms around his neck as leverage to ride him. He moved harder when I started to whimper every time I dropped my body onto him, driving him deeper.

When I sank my nails into his shoulder, he made a rough noise, his hips jerking up. I cried out and Luke growled. I felt it click for him and he began to slam into me, driving me back against the door until I knew I was going to have bruises.

Just before I was ready to come, he stumbled us backwards towards the bed. It was too small for both of us, but I solved that problem by using my weight to drop us backwards so I landed on top of him. I wailed as it drove the tip of him into the end of me.

“You’re going to kill me,” Luke gasped, his teeth flashing in the darkness.

“You’ll die a happy man.” I could barely get the words out. Every nerve in my body felt like it was on fire.

He reached up and plucked at my nipples, the pressure light, gentle, using me to move. Watching him through slitted eyes, I started to ride him faster, a burning ache inside me spreading and widening until it was a void.

As if sensing my frustration, Luke twisted and flipped me over. He pulled back and I groaned, but all he did was pull me onto my hands and knees. When he drove into me this time, he wasn't gentle and I shuddered.

Eyes closed, I braced myself for another thrust and this one was hard enough to make me cry out.

My mind slid away and sensation took over.

Need took over.

I found myself thinking…dreaming…needing as I pushed back against him.

It wasn’t Luke’s hands on me now.

It was Ash’s.

He’d come up to me in the club. Touched me.

And now he was in bed with me.

Wrong, wrong, wrong.

A part of me was protesting, but it was a small part of me.

But it felt so right. I climaxed with a hoarse cry and Luke continued to pound away at me, fingers digging into my hips. I was still convulsing from my first climax when another started and sent me flying, all thoughts of Luke and Ash disappearing as I focused only on the pleasure.

Chapter 8

Ash

Contessa knelt over the table in front of me.

Her hands were bound, her face averted. I didn't want her looking at me. I’d told her not to come, not to speak, not to even whimper.

These weren't unusual commands for a Dom to give a Sub, but I had an asshole reason behind it. I supposed it was a sign of good self-insight that I acknowledged it was an asshole reason and not just me wanting to dominate her.

I didn’t want to think about Contessa, her pleasure, her submission.

I was thinking about my pleasure. What I wanted. I knew it made me not only an asshole, but a bad Dom. Contrary to what most people thought, being a Dominant wasn't about using a Sub for personal pleasure. Even if there was no emotional connection between a Dom and a Sub, a certain element of trust and understanding was involved. Even Subs who were into more pain than I understood were taken care of by their Dom.

I didn't want to take care of Contessa. Not like I should have. I was doing something I'd never imagined myself capable of doing.

I was pretending she was somebody else. A petite redhead with snapping blue eyes and a mouth that drove me insane.

At the thought, I surged inside Contessa and her pussy contracted, tightening around me until I groaned. She wasn't naturally as tight as some others I'd been with – as tight as I imagined that little redhead would be – but Contessa knew how to work those muscles.

I thrust into her again, not even attempting to be gentle, and I felt her convulse beneath me. She wasn't necessarily into pain, but she did like it rough. I didn't have to hold back with her. The issue was going to be her ability to hold back, I thought, as I drove into her again, hard and deep.

“Don’t come,” I reminded her, bringing my hand down on the satiny smooth skin of her rump. It wasn't much of a smack, barely turning her skin pink, but it served its purpose.

She nodded frantically. Her hands, bound at the small of her back, knotted into fists, the only indication of her struggle to push back an impending orgasm. She was the sort of Sub made for any type of orgasm play, whether it was making her come so many times that she passed out, or forcing her to hold back until she was sobbing for release. I'd never met anyone who got off as easily as she did.