Playing Dirty: Windy City Kink, Book 3 (22 page)

Oh. God. She opened her mouth and he slipped it in. Her tongue slid over the smooth glass, her lips closed around it and the faint tang of her own arousal teased her taste buds. Another rush of wet heat warmed her pussy.

He withdrew the glass phallus, gently pushed it back into her pussy, then resumed his strikes.

He knew, somehow, when he’d taken her up as high as he could, and her body pulsed with dazzling, delicious heat. And at that moment, she no longer felt helpless. She felt strong. Powerful. Like she could do anything. And the care he took with her was unselfish and attentive, making her also feel cherished and precious.

This was about more than him hitting her with a crop. More than him arousing her. Or controlling her. It was about him giving her something she needed, a need she’d kept so deep inside—a need to surrender. This shook her to her core, and emotions rose inside her, swelling hot and huge.

He laid the slapper over her clit, tapping it there in rapid little strikes that had her lifting off the bed. Explosive pleasure built fast, her hips lifting, moans and whimpers escaping her mouth as she almost couldn’t bear that swift ascent, the sharp pleasure that spiked and burst inside her. At that moment, Raff tapped her pussy slower but harder, and her entire body convulsed at the sensation detonating inside her, rolling through her.

Pleasure radiated over every nerve ending, dark, edgy, exquisite. She trembled and her limbs pulled at the restraints, the firm bonds comforting her, reassuring her that she was safe as she lost all control.

Raff dropped the crop. He slid the dildo out, cupped her ass in his big hands and pressed his mouth to her still-pulsing pussy. His warm, gentle mouth on her sensitized flesh after the burn of the crop jolted her with voluptuous shock. His lips and tongue moved on her almost reverently, kissing and licking her, tenderly drawing out her orgasm and then bringing her back down.

“Wanna put the dildo in your ass, Paige.” His words ignited more flames inside her. “And fuck you with it in there.”

She choked on a whimper. Anal sex with Del had not been pleasant. In fact, it had hurt. She bit her lip.

He looked up at her and read her hesitation. She could say no. But she didn’t.

“I’ll be careful with you,” he whispered. He rolled off the bed and returned with a bottle. He took a few seconds to first roll on a condom and lube up his latex-covered cock. Then he squeezed lube all over the glass, the more tapered end, and rubbed some over her anus.

Despite her nerves, her body quivered with pleasure at that sensation. He took his time, slow and easy, using his fingers, then rubbing the glass over her, then gently nudging it in. She closed her eyes at the flash of fire when he pushed past the tight muscle there, but it was just a flash. A low, slow burn lingered, but it was delicious.

Then his big body was on top of her, hot and powerful. A groan rose in her throat. The weight and heat of him pressing her into the mattress comforted her. He entered her in one slow, thick slide, and her body burned again with the dark, sweet pressure—the friction of him tunneling inside her, with the added sensation of the toy in her ass—igniting even more nerve endings, these ones so deep and sensitive. Tears gathered in her eyes, her throat swelling with emotion.

Once he was fully inside her, as deep as he could be, as intimately connected as they could be, he reached up and released the neoprene cuffs. Then he twined his fingers through hers and held her hands as his hips powered against her, again and again, driving hard and deep.

Sweet pleasure rolled through her. In that moment, he owned her, body, heart and soul.

He fucked her harder, faster. She needed to touch herself. She tugged a hand free and pushed it down between them, found her clit and circled it. She whimpered as heat coiled again, whipping around inside her with the sweetest, darkest ecstasy. He released her other hand to reach beneath where they were joined to hold the toy in place. She pushed her hips up into his strokes, fucking him back. The bed became a frenzy of pounding, blazing pleasure. She couldn’t stop the wail that escaped her lips as she shattered into flaming pieces, her pussy convulsing around the thick flesh and dildo inside her.

Raff let the dildo slide out and grabbed her hand again. His fingers tightened, his breath in her ear harsh and ragged. “Fuck yeah,” he groaned. “Come for me, baby, just like that. Jesus, fuck, that’s good…ah, now me…” And a long, rough groan tore out of him as his body went taut against her and his cock pulsed inside her.

He kept some of his weight off her but still pressed her down. Their bodies slick with perspiration, they both fought to breathe.

She felt as if something significant had just happened, something weighty and pivotal. Her insides started to tremble, and she had a sense of descending, dropping. Her throat was still clogged, and tears still leaked from her eyes. When she sucked in a quivery breath, Raff noticed.

He rolled off her, lying on his side next to her, his face so close to hers. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him, reaching down with one hand to draw up the covers they’d kicked off the bed in their rapture. A chilled, shivery feeling assaulted her, but then the warm covers and Raff’s body surrounded her.

His hands rubbed over her—her back, her ass, the nape of her neck, her hair. “There, baby. There you go. You did so good. Fucking fantastic. Gonna look after you now. You’re okay.”

She shuddered against him and burrowed closer, absorbing not only his heat, but his words and his tender caring, taking all that inside her, letting it build and spread through her, calming her. She closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of his skin. She’d never felt like this with anyone, this intense connection, this sense of give-and-take. She’d never met a man with this combination of strength and gentleness, one who made her feel so confusingly strong by giving in to him completely.

Dinner Sunday night with Dutch and Maria was surprisingly fun. Paige loved seeing the comfort Raff had with the couple, the easy sparring between him and Dutch, the warm affection he had for Maria.

But she especially loved seeing the feelings Dutch and Maria had for
him
. They teased him about being rich and powerful, but were so clearly proud of him and what he’d accomplished. It was one more thing that made her all squishy inside.

It also made her happy for Raff, that he had these people in his life as family since his own family was all gone. The story he’d told her about his sister now made her stomach hurt even more than it had when he’d first told her.

Over the next weeks, plans progressed for Bisou Style’s move to the new space. Amanda directed a team on behalf of Challenger, who’d been in to build, paint and clean up. Furniture had been delivered, curtains had been custom sewn and hung. Paige and Trenise began packing up as much as they could and had contracted a small moving company to arrive and move everything for a target date of March 1.

And Paige and Raff spent almost every night together.

Her feelings for him were deepening, and much as she craved him, much as she wanted to be with him and felt so good when she was, it scared her too. Was she falling back into an old pattern? Was she with him because she was weak and wanted a strong man to support her? Because she knew if she let him, he would take over her life. Was she strong enough to keep that from happening?

It was a late February day when Trenise had gone home and Paige was alone at the old warehouse space when a hammering on the door erupted. She lifted her eyebrows and glanced at the time. It had to be Raff. Nobody else would come this late at night.

She headed to the door with a smile. He often showed up to drive her home, still uneasy about the neighborhood. She unlocked and pulled open the door.

Delmer shoved in.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Shock vibrated through Paige and she took a step back. Her heart jumped up into her throat and started pounding there, and her hands immediately went shaky. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

Jesus Christ, how stupid could she be not to check who was out there before she opened the door? She hadn’t seen or heard from him for so long she’d started to relax her guard and not be as watchful as she used to be.

He frowned at her and pushed the door shut behind him. She glanced at the door and at him, not sure how to make an escape. Should she move for the door or retreat? The adrenaline rushing through her veins urged her to flee, but she fought back the panic and tried to stay calm. There was no reason to be afraid of him.

Hell yeah, there was—last time he’d shown up at her old apartment and she’d let him in, they’d argued and he’d beaten her. Her stomach cramped hard, remembering that.

“You’re fucking someone,” he stated. “I’ve seen you with him.”

“What?” She shook her head. “You’ve seen me with him?”

He stalked toward her. She resisted the impulse to step back and, instead, lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, curling shaky fingers into her palms.

“Yeah. Been watching you, Paige.”

“Why are you in Chicago?” Her forehead tightened.

“For you, of course. I came back for you.”

“You’re insane, Del! We’re over. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

“We’re not over. We’re still married.”

Fuck. She squeezed her eyes shut briefly. “Legally, yes,” she said with icy disdain. “Only because you won’t sign the papers. But make no mistake, Del—we are
not
married.”

“Your new fuck buddy know he’s screwing a married woman?”

She rolled her eyes, although the term “fuck buddy” felt like a slap in the face. “I’m not talking to you about him. Get out. This time I
will
call the police, swear to God, Del. I should have listened to what everyone told me last time and had you charged with assault.”

“I’m your husband.”

“You are
not
my husband. We are
done
. Honestly, the fact that you don’t get that makes me worry for your mental competence.” She studied him. Now the idea that he might not be mentally stable scared her even more. How could she rationalize with someone who wasn’t sane?

She swallowed.

“I want you back,” he said in a low voice, standing close enough to touch her. Her entire body vibrated with the need to move away but she stood her ground. “Need you back, Paige. Things aren’t going well.”

“What do you mean? Business?”

“Yeah.” His face tightened. “Had some problems with an account. Lost some money. Tried to make it back, but I… They think I did something illegal. I swear I didn’t.”

Paige stared at him, frowning. “What are you saying, Del? Have you…lost your job?”

“No! Fuck no. They won’t fire me. They can’t. Need me too much. It’ll all work out. But…I need you.”

She pushed out a breath and tightened her lips. “You don’t need me. There’s nothing I can do to help you with that.”

“Yeah. There is.” He lifted a hand to touch her face. She flinched and knocked his arm away.

His face stiffened and eyes narrowed. “Paige—”

“Don’t touch me,” she warned, voice low and strained. “Do. Not. Touch. Me.”

“Baby, c’mon…come home. Come back to New York.” He looked around the warehouse. “Look at this crappy place. You should be working in a nice office on Madison Avenue. Like you used to.”

“I wasn’t happy there, Del. And anyway, I’m moving out of this place.”

“Yeah?” His gaze sharpened. “Why? Business not good? I told you—”

“Business is great. I’m moving somewhere bigger. Expanding.”

His eyebrows drew down again. “That guy you’re fucking have something to do with it? You got some rich dude looking after you? I saw the car he drives. He your new daddy?”

Her insides felt as if they were gripped in a giant fist. The word
daddy
made her want to vomit. But how could she answer that question honestly? Raff had a lot to do with her move. He
had
helped out. But… “Get out,” she said through teeth clamped together. “I don’t want to ever see you again. I’m contacting my lawyer again about you not signing the divorce papers.”

“Don’t be like this,” he said, softening his tone. “Paige, baby—”

It made her teeth clench even harder to hear those words from him, when it should be Raff murmuring them in her ear. “I asked you to leave. Do it now. Or I’ll call the police.” She’d left her cell phone over on the desk and she glanced at it. Could she get there and grab it? Would he try to stop her? Her stomach knotted so hard a wave of nausea rose in her throat.

She gave him three painful seconds, then whirled around and started toward her desk. His hard hand caught her upper arm and stopped her. Heat flashed through her veins and her heart leaped. Instinctively, she fought back, jerking away, but his hand tightened on her, squeezing her upper arm until it burned. As she tried to pull away, the sleeve of her sweater stretched, pulling at her neck, baring skin. She heard the rip of stitches, but ignored it. With her other hand she shoved at him.

“Let me go!”

“Paige, stop, listen…” He was bigger, stronger and possessed with some kind of manic determination to have her.

“No!” She struggled as his other hand gripped her too, but he wasn’t prepared for her to be ruthless. She was not letting it happen again, she was not,
not ever
…

She brought her knee up, willing herself not to hesitate. Never in her life had she acted with the pure intent of hurting someone, and it was hard, but she went for it and kneed him in the nuts. As he shouted and jerked back, she yanked her right arm free and struck again, hitting him in the nose with the base of her palm. Hard. Dead-on. He yelled again and released her, staggering back, to her shock going to his knees, one hand at his crotch, the other at his face. Tears streamed from his eyes.

She stood for a moment, wide-eyed, panting, frozen with dismay at what she’d done, then her brain kicked in and she turned to rush for her phone. Her legs felt shaky and stiff, like she couldn’t move fast enough, but then she was fumbling for her phone and trying to press buttons with trembling fingers. The beeps as she pressed 9-1-1 sounded loud in the warehouse, Del’s gasps the only other sound.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

Paige sucked in air, willing them to answer. The operator picked up. “What is your emergency?”

“I’ve been attacked,” she said baldly, not sure what to say. She rattled off her address. “He’s still here. I…hit him.”

They asked more questions and Paige watched as Del shook off his pain and struggled to his feet. He started toward her then clearly realized it was too late, police were on their way. “Fucking bitch,” he muttered. “You’re gonna fucking pay for this.”

Wide-eyed, she watched him stagger out of the warehouse. “He’s leaving!” she said into the phone. “You need to get here quick! He’ll get away.”

“Police are on their way, ma’am,” the calm voice replied. “Stay on the line until they arrive. Has he left the premises?”

“Y-yes.”

Her legs turned to cotton. She took three steps to the chair at her desk and collapsed into it.

“Lock the door, Ms. Nelson,” the operator said. “Wait for the police.”

Lock the door. Right. Right. She wasn’t sure if she could walk, but she pushed up out of her chair and stumbled across the worn, scarred hardwood floor to flick the deadbolt. She leaned against the door. “It’s locked.”

Then she heard a distant siren. Dear God. Did they have to do that? How embarrassing. But relief that they were near made her lean her head against the door. “I hear the police,” she whispered into the phone.

She didn’t want to do this. She just wanted it to all go away. Del was gone. But after last time, when Mallory had urged her to call the police and she hadn’t, now she knew she must do it. Maybe if she’d done it last time he wouldn’t have come back.

He’d been watching her. Her and Raff. Her stomach burned at the thought. What was
wrong
with him?

She answered the police’s questions, a bit dazed, but resigned to having to go through the messiness.

Then Raff showed up.

And freaked out.

When Raff saw two police cars parked at the curb in front of Paige’s warehouse, every muscle in his body contracted into granite.
What the fuck?

The skin on the back of his neck tingled and somehow he knew something bad had gone down. He leaped out of his car and jogged to the door. It was open, which was not good, but when he stepped inside and saw a crowd of uniforms he understood why. Again, what the ever-loving fuck?

His eyes sought out Paige as he moved through the room, and fell on her sitting on her desk chair, two uniforms sitting on chairs near her, one of them, thank fuck, a woman.

Paige glanced up at him as he approached, eyes widening. Her pale face and strained expression, the tear in the neckline of her sweater, made his gut clench. He pushed aside a police officer—uncaring of who he was, to get closer to her—dropped to a crouch in front of her and grabbed her hands. “What’s going on, baby? You okay?”

She nodded, fingers curling around his and holding on tight.

Fuck! This was a shitty neighborhood and she should not be there late at night! “What happened?” he barked at an officer.

The woman police officer glanced at Paige, eyebrows raised. “This is…?”

“My…” Paige stalled.

“I’m her boyfriend,” Raff snapped, although that term didn’t do nearly enough to describe their relationship, in his mind. She was his. “Raff Lauden.”

Paige nodded. She met Raff’s eyes. “I’m okay,” she whispered. “Del showed up.”

“Fuck!” He instinctively tightened his grip on her hands, and she winced. Damn. He loosened his grip and brought her fingers to his mouth. He kept his eyes on hers as he kissed her. “Christ, Paige. What the hell was he doing here? You had to call the fucking police?”

She nodded, eyes closed, lines drawn from her nose to the corners of her mouth. “I called the police. He…” She drew in a long breath and let it out. “I didn’t tell you everything.”

Something inside him swelled up, burning its way through his body. He swallowed and fought for calm. He didn’t want to freak the fuck out in front of her. Or the cops. He had enough of a reputation, they could easily discover. He wanted to rush out of there and find the motherfucker who’d done this to Paige and make him pay. But he was going to be civilized. Controlled. That wasn’t to say he still wasn’t going to make Delmer pay, but at this moment he needed to be calm and in control.

“Okay, baby,” he murmured. “Tell me.”

“Can we…deal with the police first? I want to get this over with.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“I think we’re done,” the female cop said.

“Where’s Delmer?” Raff demanded.

“He left,” Paige said. “When I called 911.”

“You mean you don’t know where he is?” He turned a hard gaze onto a police officer.

“We’ll find him,” the guy said. “But he didn’t hurt her.”

Raff’s eyebrows flew up. “What?”

“I fought back,” Paige whispered. “He grabbed me, but I…fought back. This time. I kneed him in the groin. Punched him in the nose. I got away from him.”

“This time?” Raff’s blood pressure spiked again, heat roaring through his body, a red haze outlining his vision.

She gave him an apologetic glance that told him, fuck yeah she’d held back on him. Fuck that. Rage blew up inside him, scorching hot. He reined it in, gritting his teeth. Patience. He needed patience. They’d deal with this when they were alone.

They finished up and finally the cops were gone, and he and Paige were alone in the quiet warehouse space. He held it together as she got her coat and purse, turned out lights and armed the alarm system. She walked as if she was dazed, her eyes a little unfocused, her fingers shaking as she pushed buttons on the alarm pad.

He held her arm and led her to his car parked up the street. His gaze swept the dark street, now mostly deserted, and saw nothing.

He remembered that night he’d arrived, when there’d been a guy sitting in a car in front of her place, and the car had taken off when he’d shown up. His gut clenched. Had that been that asshole Delmer? Sitting there waiting for her? Jesus fucking Christ.

If that guy’d been stalking her…and Raff hadn’t known…holy fuck. He had to pause and take a deep breath before starting his car.

His body vibrated all the way back to his place.

“I want to go home,” Paige said to him in a low voice when she realized they were going to his condo.

“I’m taking you to my place.”

“Raff. Don’t be mad.”

He shot her an incredulous glance. “Don’t be mad? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I’m sorry.”

Then his eyes popped open and realization slammed into him. “Do not fucking apologize to me for that asshole,” he ground out. “And do
not
think I’m mad at you for what happened. Although I am going to hear this whole fucking story, and I’m not guaranteeing I’m gonna like what I hear.”

She nodded and kept her head bent, apparently looking at her hands, then turned to gaze out the side window. Her fingers absently rubbed her opposite wrist, the wrist where she usually wore that rubber band. But her wrist was bare. When had she stopped wearing it?

He took a deep breath. “Paige. I’m angry. Not at you. But, yeah, I’m pissed. I want to punch that motherfucker and if he were here I’d do it right now. But do
not
be afraid of me.”

He reached out and clasped one of her hands. Her fingers curled around his and she nodded.

They were soon walking into his condo. He flicked on lights, then headed straight to the fireplace to turn it on. Paige had been shivering all the way home.

He took her coat, tossing it over a chair rather than hanging it up, adding his on top of it. Then he pulled her to the couch in front of the fireplace, grabbing the fluffy throw the interior designer had insisted he needed. He wrapped Paige up in it and sat, pulling her into his arms. She leaned into him.