His eyes danced with pure mischief. “Promise?”
Chapter Nine
Kit sat on the side of his sleigh bed about an hour later. He was as sexually frustrated as he’d ever been and normally would’ve manhandled his growing problem. He stopped short of reaching for his cock when his thoughts turned to Holly and how she’d responded to the first round of training exercises.
She’d been a demanding little siren when he’d gone downstairs to check on her. She’d ordered him to fuck her, and he’d thought about it. Then, he’d considered his truest reasons for placing her in submissive training in the first place.
Holly needed to learn self-control. She needed to think about something other than her own selfish demands for around-the-clock sex. If Kit gave in and met her requests whenever she made them, what was he saying to her? What was he teaching her? Who was, in turn, submissive to whom?
He wondered then how she’d held down a job in the past. If what he’d discovered about Holly were true, he wasn’t sure how she’d been able to function in a professional setting. How much sex had she needed? How much had she craved? How frequent were her liaisons prior to meeting them? How much did her unhealthy desire for sex interfere with her day-to-day activities?
Then again, he mused, look at what she did for a living. Hell, she could’ve given lap dances and gotten off without the clients ever knowing she’d given them theirs and taken her own pleasures, too.
Anger took hold and for a minute, the rage settled in his gut. Other men had viewed his Holly. Other guys sat under her as she’d danced all over them, her body pouring over strangers like a sudden rain. His jealousy got the best of him, and he clenched his fists and ground his teeth.
What the hell was wrong with him anyway? He picked her up in a nightclub, and not just any club! He’d pulled her out of a gentleman’s club and promised her a good time. He hadn’t sworn to love her. He hadn’t promised her a better life, but somewhere along the way, all of that happened and he’d been good to her. He’d treated Holly better than he’d ever treated any other woman. That is, until…Oh God, he couldn’t bear to think it.
Yes, he’d been cruel to Holly, too.
The very second his suspicions were confirmed, he shifted gears. He changed overnight. Actually, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he made a sudden transformation. Once his fears were confirmed, he just lost it. How he responded to the news was a blow now, too. He was angry as soon as he’d received the e-mail about Holly’s past, but even then, he couldn’t make a clean break. He couldn’t order her out and tell her not to come back because he had to do the unthinkable first.
He wanted to fuck her one last time, take one for the road so to speak, but not for the foolish reasons a normal man might claim. His desire for her wasn’t entirely physical. He needed the emotional connection, the intimacy he only felt with Holly.
So he made love to her. He screwed her because the thought of letting her go without knowing the touch of her skin once more had been like a shot through the heart.
He couldn’t resist lingering between her soft thighs one last time, and even then, even when he was swearing her off, telling her to leave and daring her to try and come back, he knew she wouldn’t go. He realized he wouldn’t let her go—because he couldn’t.
A surge of guilt washed over him then. Holly had a problem, and how had he handled his discovery? He’d been angry and responded to her with pure fury driving him.
He should’ve been ashamed of himself. Holly had a legitimate issue with sex, and he was a jackass. To add to the insults, what did he do? He forced his lifestyle practices down her throat. In a sense, he was using sex to cure what may have been a sex addiction.
He shook his head. He refused to think of Domination and submission as just sex. He knew better. Prior to Holly, he’d lived within the lifestyle. When he and Kemper were with Mona, he’d learned what he liked, what he expected, and had vowed to never settle for anything less.
Then along came Holly.
One mention of bondage or submission and she’d immediately shot down their goals and informed them she wasn’t interested. He wondered then why she’d been so adamant about staying away from the things they most enjoyed. Had she used what she knew they needed to gain some sort of twisted leverage?
&nb
sp; Maybe she’d held out, realizing one day they might long for something different to spice up their love life. Perhaps she understood stepping into her rightful role as his submissive would place a spark under a live fuse.
He snickered, and what started out as light laughter soon turned into an outright chuckle. God, how he loved that woman. Yes, finally! He was ready to admit it to himself and maybe even to Holly. He loved her.
Maybe it was time he told her how he felt. Then he could stop acting like a spoiled child whenever things didn’t go his way.
Then again, he was just a man. What more could a woman expect when a fellow didn’t get his way? Guys had long since been the butt of jokes often told by females. They were accused of being immature. They were said to be overgrown boys, babies at times.
He stood. Well, by damned, he didn’t like it.
Yes, he’d behaved badly. He’d treated Holly poorly while he came to terms with questions the past raised. Now, he’d found acceptance.
Holly’s past didn’t matter. The future, however, was another story.
Kit wouldn’t be able to survive without the woman he loved. Soon, he’d tell her all about that. For now, he was going to check on the little vixen. Based on the way he last left her, he had a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t be too happy to see him.
* * * *
The basement was dark except for one bright, yellow lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. Kemper flipped on the main overhead lights and stared at his sub.