Page 5 of Dark Rules

Emily

Dylan called his place an apartment. What he didn’t say was that this ‘apartment’ was a penthouse at the very top of one of the buildings in the city. It overlooked the ocean on one side and had an excellent view of the lights and attractions below. The entire place, decorated in a cold, masculine taste, very minimalist, with black furniture and glass tables, wasn’t inviting if you were a woman looking to create a lasting relationship with a family in the future.

But if you were looking for a man to fuck you into the middle of next week and make you beg for more, well then, Mr. Dylan James was your man. The apartment was indicative of a man who liked his control, who tended to his needs, but wasn’t the kind to put up with unnecessary fluff. In essence, his ‘apartment’ told me just what I’d already known about him.

“Would you like another drink?” he’d asked as we walked through the place. A small living room with a long couch, one black leather chair, a glass table, and a television went by, and white painted walls were a blur uninterrupted by portraits of any kind. The floors were some kind of black wood, and I glanced around to see a bathroom, a bedroom with a red duvet, another empty room, or at least it looked empty with the door only partially opened, and then the kitchen.

“There’s a study through there”—he pointed off to the left—“and through there is the pool and gym area.”

I could see a door to the right and wondered what delights waited for me in that room.

“Could I have some water, please?” I asked, when he went to the sink in the island in the middle of the kitchen.

“Of course, I’m sorry.” He went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. The same brand from the club. I’d said it was the kind I preferred, and he’d remembered.

I felt a smile pull at my lips as I took the bottle and opened it. After a few sips, I put the bottle down and walked over to him. “Now, sir, when do we begin?”

I let my lips part, and my eyes went down as I sank to my knees. There’d been nothing about how a sub should act in this contract, only that I was to be the sub. I liked this moment of our time together, though, and loved the way he looked at me when I did it. As if he was on top of the world. As if I’d given him that world and wanted to put it all right back at my feet.

His hand came down, a finger stroked my cheek as I looked up at him, my heart in my throat. He was my family’s enemy and should be off limits to me. Something about that gave this moment a dark edge that I couldn’t turn away from. It heightened my excitement, that I might be caught, that they might learn about my betrayal. That he might.

That part didn’t sit so well with me. As far as I knew, Dylan hadn’t done anything to earn Trent’s enmity; he’d only wanted to make his way into the hotel industry on this side of the country. It was Trent’s childishness that made Dylan forbidden fruit. If he found out what I’d done, then he would have to deal with it. I hadn’t really betrayed anything, not really.

Or so I explained it to myself as desire began to flood through me. Dylan took my hair in his hand, bunched it within his fist, and pulled my head back. Not so tight that it hurt, but enough to know he had my hair firmly in his grip. “And what do you want tonight, Stephanie?”

“Whatever you desire, sir. That’s all I ask for.” The words were out of my mouth without a second thought. He could have whatever he wanted of me. My gaze dropped to the place before me, the zipper of his pants. It was bulging now, and I knew my pose, my submission, had done that to him.

“That’s not what I asked, pet. I asked you what you wanted.” His tone was stronger, more forceful, but I couldn’t hear him because all I heard was the sound of his zipper as it moved down. His hand had covered the panels of his trousers, and now his thumb moved into his pants to hook his cock as he brought it out of the darkness.

He didn’t have on briefs, just his trousers, and I knew that was in anticipation of our meeting. He held himself in his hand, out to me, and my head moved closer, my mouth opened, ready for the invasion. I felt my lips against the head and my mouth opened, hungry to take him in, but he tugged at my hair still wrapped around his hand. “Ah, ah, pet. I asked you what you wanted.”

I glanced up, my hands on the floor, as irritation surged through me. “I want to taste you.”

“Then you should ask, pet. You can’t just take, now can you?” His smirk made me want to scratch him, but at the same time, it made me want to dig my nails into the firm muscles of his ass and pull him deeper into my face.

“No, sir. You’re right. I’m sorry.” I ducked my head, dutifully, and waited. He didn’t say anything, so I looked up after a long moment.

“Well?” He still had that one hand on his cock, and I wanted it so much. I wanted to feel the way it popped into my mouth once the head was in, the way he slid over my tongue so smoothly.

“I want to suck you, sir.” I bit my lip and hoped my statement pleased him.

“Ah, but that’s a demand. Not a request.” He stroked himself, and all the soft places inside of me melted with yearning. I wanted to do that, with my hand and my mouth. But he’d decided to tease me, to make me ask for exactly what I wanted from him.

“I see.” I nudged my knees apart just a fraction, so that the edge of my skirt moved and the space between my knees was on view. Not a lot, not vulgarly, but enough to catch his eyes, if he looked. “May I suck your cock, sir?”

His lips parted on an inhaled breath, and his eyes turned even hotter than they had been. A thrill of delight surged through me at the evidence of his desire, his appreciation of my submission given properly, at last. “Of course, you may, my darling.”

I reached for him, took him in my small hand, still amazed at how he filled it. How could that possibly fit inside of me, I wondered, but then, I opened my lips, leaned in, and felt him slide in, slick silk against my soft lips. My jaw opened wide, and he went further, deeper into my mouth. I stopped and inhaled, my hands to each side of his cock now, the fingers of my right hand grasped around him. I only had half of him in my mouth, and I already felt full.

I closed my lips around him, savored his taste, inhaled around him, and sucked my way up his length. I felt his fingers tug at my hair as they clenched on top of my head. He rocked on his feet as I began to move down on him again to push himself deeper into my throat. I liked the sound he made, a growl that he tried to cut off, to hide from me, as I sucked at him all over again.

I moved faster and took him deeper, until he lost his control and growled above me. I was, by no means, an expert at any of this, but I could follow the cues he gave me. His fingers clenched tightly in my hair, until I thought he might have pulled a few stands from my head. I didn’t care and felt the tug of pain as pleasure. I inhaled through my nose, desperate for a sound, a move, that would tell me I’d driven him deeper.

I’d wanted to please him, he was the man I’d chosen to serve, and I wanted to make him crave me. I wanted him to crave my touch as much as I craved his. It wasn’t something I’d have admitted just then, but it was something I began to understand. Two days hadn’t been enough; two weeks might not be enough either. He had so much to teach me, so much to make me feel, and I wanted it all.

I felt a slickness between my thighs from my own excitement. I could feel a throb from my clit, a throb that was need and pleasure combined. Soon enough, he’d touch me or he’d tease me, and I didn’t care which it was he chose. I was his to do with as he pleased, to an extent, but I hadn’t started this game to be a wimp and tap out at the first sign of danger. I wanted that edge of I can’t take anymore and pure bliss. He’d given me a taste of it already, and I’d wanted more.

I hummed happily against him as he moved to the back of my mouth, near my throat, and Dylan gasped again. I grabbed at his ass and dug my nails in to hang on as he rocked into my face, into my throat, deeper and deeper with each thrust. I moaned around him, lost in the moment, lost in his arousal, in my own. My nipples tightened when he groaned again, and need flared even hotter in my abdomen, but right now, all I could do was hang on.