Walk on the Wild Side Page 5

  Despite her arousal when she’d read O’s story, she wasn’t sure about the pain thing. Aware that the other men in the room were shifting, moving to look at the weapons, she cleared her throat.

  “Umm, may I ask a question?”

  “Certainly.”

  “What do the characters mean?”

  He traced them with a long finger. “Strength and courage.”

  Her mouth made an O. “Strength and c--”

  “The whip.”

  She stared at it, unable to speak, terrified. What the hell had she gotten herself into?

  “Your discipline with the whip can last a very long time. It’s leather, will sting, but won’t draw blood.”

  She sucked in a breath. “I’ll take the glove.”

  He smiled at her. “But you don’t know what that means.”

  “I don’t mind being spanked by a glove.”

  “The glove isn’t a weapon, it’s a symbol.”

  “A symbol,” she repeated, her mind numb. How could she have been so stupid? James Li was a puzzle, layer upon layer of mystery. She should have guessed that nothing was simple with this man. “So, what did I just agree to?” she asked.

  Before he could answer, the teenager cleared his throat and said, “Umm, Uncle Jimmy, I don’t know if I’m into this.”

  “Uncle Jimmy?” She turned to him, incredulous.

  He ignored her. “That’s okay, Kevin.”

  Kevin reached out and hugged James. “But this was the best birthday present ever. Thanks so much.”

  “Hey, your eighteenth birthday is special. You’re a man now.” James playfully punched his nephew on the arm as they walked to the elevator. “Later, dude.”

  Its door slid open, and Kevin got in, giving Liza a little half-wave goodbye. She watched, still amazed. James Li had given her to his nephew as a birthday present. Never in her wildest dreams ...

  The Hispanic man followed. “Truly a memorable experience.” Glancing at Liza, he extended his hand to James. “Don’t worry about the planning commission. I’m satisfied as to the, umm, quality of your operation.”

  While she wondered which planning commissioner James had bribed using her body, he shook the proffered hand. “Thank you, Rigo. Go down to the casino. There’s a chit there for you.”

  The elevator closed, leaving Liza alone with James.

  Her gaze swung back to the weapons. A whisper sounded in her ear. “You both fear and desire the whip, don’t you?” His breath caressed her neck, lifting the tiny hairs at her nape and sending wanton shivers along her flesh.

  Damn him, he was right. She wanted the experience, but was afraid ... what would this weekend do to her? Would she still be the tough girl who’d grown up on the Oakland streets, ready to best every enemy? The competent detective who’d mastered every challenge?

  How would becoming James Li’s sex slave change her?

  Did she want this?

  She closed her eyes. Hot tears she couldn’t control escaped and tracked down her cheeks, leaving a warm, wet trail of shame.

  He licked and kissed them away. “My sweet darling.”

  She didn’t know what to make of that. She turned her head, blinked, scrutinized him. He smiled at her, utterly still, utterly contained.

  She tried to take in the entirety of him. Black hair, neatly styled, parted on one side. Amber skin, maybe a shade richer than her own. Handsome eyes and bones. Masculine, chiseled lips. A boyish smile completed his deceptively innocent façade. If she passed him on a street in the Financial District, dressed in one of his well-cut, dark suits, she’d take him for a banker or an attorney, if she didn’t know better. Indeed, interviews had revealed that he thought of himself as a businessman.

  But James Li was the proverbial enigma wrapped in a mystery.

  Taking her hand, he kissed the back of it and led her into the next room.

  The sumptuous bedroom was richly decorated in an eclectic mix of styles with Asian predominating. Polished chests and wardrobes with elaborate brass fittings presumably held James’s clothes. Fragrant smoke curled from a lit incense stick set on one of the chests. A custom bed, larger than any bed Liza had ever seen, dominated the room. A four-poster, it was covered by a red, Chinese patterned comforter with a pile of red, gold and black satin pillows at one end. Nightstands on each side held an array of objects -- lamps, books, and so forth. Mosquito netting shot with gold thread hung from the ceiling and was tied back at each post with red silk ropes. The headboard and wall behind it were mirrored.

  It was more than a bed. With the mirrors, the pillows of every size and shape, and ropes wound around each post, it was designed for sex, an adult playpen. She paused, unable to stop visualizing herself and James on that bed, entwined and writhing on the middle of that opulent, red satin comforter. She shuddered with desire, hot flames of need leaping through her blood, igniting her.

  A tug on her wristband yanked her out of her erotic dream. James led her to the bed. Two feet away, he stuck out a foot and tripped her. With a startled yelp, she fell, but he caught her around the waist and tossed her onto the mattress’s middle. When he landed atop her, they became a flailing tangle of limbs. She tried to sort herself out but he quickly controlled her with his lean, powerful body. He opened her thighs with one knee, grabbed her hip and shoved into her wet, ready pussy, then pushed his tongue into her mouth.

  He banged her and came without a condom or any apparent regard for her, pulling out when he was done and flipping her over so she lay across his lap. The whole fuck happened so fast she barely had time to think, let alone feel before he gave her ass five hard swats.

  The slaps reverberated through her like a gong. She squirmed and shrieked, more with surprise than pain, but he held her tight and continued to spank her. “You’re getting nice and red, but not enough.”

  He began to spank her with steady swats on her rump and thighs that stung, then heated. Her cunt burned from the repeated entries; her slit dripped from his come and her need.

  She struggled and moaned, overwhelmed by a complex of emotions she couldn’t understand or explain. The pain was explicitly sexual and transported her into another realm. With the mirrored headboard two feet away from her face, she was forced to watch, to see her open, panting mouth and eyes, eyes that went from frantic to wanton.

  When he moved, gold glinted from beneath his open robe. His left nipple was pierced by a gold ring with a charm hanging from it. Her mind flashed on an image of her tonguing it. She wanted to kiss it, nip it, suck on it and watch his reaction.

  She wanted to make him want her as much as she wanted him. She couldn’t rid herself of the notion that she was merely a play toy for his amusement. She wanted to change that.

  But why?

  Her gaze shifted, and she saw that he was completely absorbed in his task, intent upon her.

  Their eyes met in a moment of terrifying intimacy. Wedged between her thighs, his cock swelled.

  She lunged, wrenching herself out of his grasp and off the bed. She ran into the living room and, seeing the elevator, stopped.

  Behind her, James said, “Just so.”

  She turned. He was leaning against the doorjamb. His red robe gaped open so she could see his gold nipple ring and his cock at half-mast.

  He walked toward her and took her hands. “To leave, you’d have to wait for the elevator, go downstairs and walk through the casino to the street. Naked. Is that what you want?”

  “No,” she whispered.

  He looked into her eyes, his gaze calm, friendly, unflinching. “Liza, you can leave now, or anytime, if you truly want to. But have you gotten everything you came for?”

  She remembered Sindie Keller. “No,” she said firmly.

  “Then stay. I promise to give you everything you need.”

  “How do you know what I need?”

  He smiled. “I know quite a lot about you. You’re twenty-nine years old, and your birthday is April eighteenth. Your mother is LaDonna Bowman, an
Oakland bartender who named you after the heroine of My Fair Lady. You like raspberry gelato and Napa Valley champagne. You prefer coffee black, men white, and cocks cut.”

  Her lips parted. “How do you know all this?”

  “Later.”

  “Later? Later when?”

  He put a finger vertically over her mouth. “By the end of the weekend, you’ll know. I promise to answer every question, tell you every secret.”

  She nibbled on his finger, then pushed his hand away. “By Sunday night -- two nights from now -- you’ll answer all my questions? Truthfully?”

  He caressed the underside of her wrist with circling fingertips. “Yes. But you must give yourself to me completely between now and then.”

  She pressed her lips together. Should she make a deal with the devil? But James hadn’t hurt her, not really. The anal sex hadn’t felt great at first, but she’d come harder and longer than ever before. But her butt cheeks burned and her ass was sore ... and what would come next?

  She tried to recall the details of O’s degradation, but did they matter? James had already departed from the book.

  Watching her, he laughed. “What’s there to think about? You’ve been turned on every second since I took you out of Galway’s, and that was hours ago.”

  She took a deep breath. Then another. And another. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

  His smile illuminated his face, and her. “Good. This is gonna be fun.” He led her back to the bedroom, took off his robe and dropped it to the floor. “Now lie face down, and reach for the bedposts.”

  The bed was far too big for her to actually hold onto the posts, but she tried, stretching her arms and legs into an X. He tied her to each post by slipping the red silk ropes through metal loops on the dog collars around her wrists and ankles.

  She watched him in the mirrors as he did all this, watched him and wondered at herself. Okay, so she’d find what James knew about Keller’s disappearance -- if he kept his word.

  She believed he would. Nothing in his rap sheet, criminal history, or rumor said that James was a liar. But was Sindie Keller worth it?

  He finished tying her up, then slid a long, cylindrical pillow, like a bolster, beneath her hips, lifting, opening, and displaying her to him. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. He took a bottle from the nightstand and squeezed a thick, shining liquid onto his hands. He knelt between her legs and placed his cool, oiled palms onto her still-burning bottom.

  She drew a tremulous breath. He rubbed her butt in slow circles, circles which burned, then settled into a sensual ache. Her moan spoke of desire, longing, need.

  “So beautiful. You have the most gorgeous ass ... Were you an anal virgin?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I thought so, because you were so tight. I loved being your first.” He nuzzled her neck, then nipped her earlobe, sending a red flare of lust rocketing through her. “I’ll open you more. But now ...”

  In the mirror, she saw him bend over before something warm and wet touched her.

  His tongue.

  He licked her pussy, treating her clit to sweet little sucks. She relaxed into the experience, letting pleasure flow through her body, humming as her orgasm built. When she was close to coming, he ran his tongue along her furrow, then rimmed her asshole. The delicate flicks of his tongue around her tender back door were a unique experience for her. She breathed deeply, trying to center, trying to decide if she liked it or not. It was good, but strange.

  “Yeah,” he said, sounding appreciative. He sat up and sipped from a water glass on the nightstand. “Liza, are you thirsty?”

  When she nodded, he helped her drink without untying her. Then he set down the glass and squeezed more oil onto his hands. He rubbed it onto his cock, then knelt again between her legs. “Yeah, baby.” He pressed her cheeks apart with his palms, put his cockhead to her ass and pushed inside.

  Her sheath was still swollen from his first entry, but he was slick with the aromatic oil he’d used and slid inside her easily, faster than she expected. Pain pierced her, alongside an unexpected wave of pleasure, as though her body remembered coming so intensely the first time he’d taken her rear.

  He lay full length on her, and the sense of being dominated, possessed, was unbearable. She couldn’t breathe. His cock in her ass stretched her, seemed to fill up all her insides as the ache settled into an acute need for release. She wiggled her hips, causing a new pain and a new pleasure.

  “Yeah, you do need to be opened more. You’re too tight.” His cock twitched against a hot, throbbing pulse at the opening of her anus.

  She gasped. “It feels like you’re doing that.”

  “Not enough.” His cock burned.

  “It’s not as bad as the first time.”

  “You’re a little looser, and I’m not wearing a rubber now. Don’t worry, I get tested every month. I’m clean.”

  “You had one on before?”

  “Yeah, that was how I could last so long. I wanted our first time to be ... memorable.”

  Using the mirror, she cut him a glare. He laughed and said, “Okay, I’m going to come now.” He gave her four hard, heavy thrusts that seared her tender channel before he groaned in her ear and filled her backside with liquid heat.

  He’d hung her out to dry. Again. “That,” she said, “was selfish.”

  “Do you want to come, baby? Awwwww.” He pulled away, and his limp cock fell out of her with a soft plop. He slapped her rump hard. It stung, and she winced. “You don’t get it, do you? You’ll come when I allow it, and not before.”

  Rising, he left the room.

  He returned with the whip, stroking it with his long, elegant fingers. “I hadn’t thought it necessary to use this, but it is.”

  “No!” Tense with fear, Liza yanked at her bonds. “I picked the glove, the hand.”

  “You don’t understand what the glove means,” he said. “I told you that the glove is a symbol, and it is. Not of my hand, but of my control, my choice. And right now, I choose the lash. Not because hurting you turns me on. It doesn’t. But I do want to mark you as mine, at least for a few days, and you need the discipline. You want the punishment, Liza.” He came closer and ran the whip’s lashes along the furrow between her butt cheeks.

  The leather caressing her tickled pleasurably. It was good, sexy. How could she find anything about the whip sexy? She had to be out of her mind. “No!”

  “Aren’t you at least curious?”

  She fell silent. Once again, James Li had cut through her bullshit and nailed her with the truth.

  “I thought so,” he said. “Now kiss the whip.”

  She didn’t want to do it, but he was serious, and she didn’t want to make matters worse or earn extra punishment. So when he presented the handle to her lips, and though she closed her eyes, she puckered, extended, touched her lips to it.

  He stroked the leather lashes along her shoulder. “Open your eyes, watch, and learn.”

  She caught one glimpse of his dark, intent face as he brought the whip, swishing, through the air onto her buttocks. The blow lanced through her; it didn’t hurt much, but she was shocked that James had actually struck her with it. She writhed and bucked beneath the sensual torture. Her surprised shriek hadn’t subsided before he whipped her again.

  “X marks the spot, your lovely back door.” He slashed her one more time across the top of her thighs, then tossed the whip aside. “That’s so you’ll remember me when you sit down.”

  Everything that had happened since James had taken her captive hours before had been so new, so different ... She sensed herself changing, becoming someone new and different. Uncontrollable trembling wracked her body. Every muscle tensed to the point of pain. She couldn’t stand any more.

  He slid his hand into her open pussy, caressed her, invaded her one more time. Took her again, possessing her. One, two, three strokes, and her release was so powerful that she blacked out.

  Sweating, James checked for a pulse at her ne
ck. He found it at once, beating steadily against his fingers. Exhaling a relieved sigh, he rang for help. While he waited, he fetched a washcloth soaked in cold water and bathed her forehead.

  Veronica stepped off the elevator in three minutes, and he showed her into his bedroom.

  “Holy shit,” the dark-skinned blonde said, leaning over Liza. “She asked for this?”

  James pursed his lips. “Yes.” He pushed Liza’s hair, damp with sweat, away from her face.

  “She hasn’t done this before, has she?” Veronica stroked Liza’s flank, unblemished except for the fresh red ribbons shading her bottom.

  “She’s even less experienced at S&M than I am,” he said. “She’s just taking a walk on the wild side. At least, I hope so. I don’t think I can do this every day.”

  “Every day, boss?” Veronica gave him a wide-eyed stare.

  He smiled slightly. “You heard me right.”

  She gazed at Liza with new interest and respect.

  “Don’t awaken her,” he said. “She’s exhausted. She usually gets up at six in the morning.”

  Veronica winced. “She’s been up for nearly eighteen hours.”

  “Yes, she’s a busy lady. Clean her as best you can. Give her a sponge bath or something, very gently, and let her rest.”

  Leaving Veronica, James called down to the kitchen for a light meal, then took a shower. When his food arrived -- a delicate egg flower soup -- he ate while seated on the couch, gazing moodily into the fire.

  He hadn’t liked the side of him that the evening had uncovered. He enjoyed bending Liza to his will, but loathed hurting her. Could they ever find a middle ground?

  Chapter Five

  Having slept on her belly, Liza awoke sometime around noon, she guessed, judging by the golden light streaming through the now open curtains. She stretched, grimacing as her sore bottom reminded her of where she was and what she’d done.

  She blinked, meeting her own eyes in the mirrored headboard and using it to scan the room. The gold-shot netting had been draped around the bed, obscuring her view, but the lack of movement revealed she was alone.