He bunched her hair in his hands, returning her kiss with matched aggression and undeniable enthusiasm.
He awaited a sign, some sort of signal. Once the first low moan slipped from her lips, he knew he had her right where he wanted her.
Well, almost.
Chapter Five
“I didn’t agree to this!” Victory yelled, wiggling her hands. She stretched her neck and looked at Devon, ready to kill him for manipulating her. “This isn’t funny, Devon.”
“Domination and submission isn’t a laughing matter, doll,” he said, affixing a video camera to a tripod.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He winked. “You let me worry about the pictures. I’ll make sure to capture the right angle.”
“Get me off this wheel!” she yelled. “How did we go from kissing to this?”
Devon stroked his chin. “Good question. I typically don’t kiss on the first date.”
“This isn’t our first time together,” she bit out. “I know it’s been a couple of years, but I don’t buy the fact you suddenly have a memory lapse and don’t remember who joined you and Addison when you rented a room at the Knoxville Hilton. Since we reconnected, it’s all you’ve talked about.”
“It’s all I’ve thought about for nearly two damn years. You’ve been on my mind too damned often.”
Good. At least she wasn’t the only one to leave the Hilton with delicious memories of an event cut short. Anytime anyone in the MC had spoken Devon’s name, she’d bent an ear, dreading the day when she might overhear one of the Angels confirm her worst fears—he’d married, left the MC, no one knew where he was or worse, one of the Angels had killed him.
She remembered the Angels making fun of him after they’d worked out some sort of deal with the Heroes and Rogues. They’d called him a pussy because he’d stopped dabbling in prostitution, and they’d lied and said they wouldn’t manufacture meth in exchange for his agreement. She knew Devon. She knew what made him tick. He didn’t stop because the Angels told him to. He quit because he wasn’t that kind of man, and after Addison died, he’d changed. Victory had seen the transformation the day the cops had taken Damsel away in cuffs.
“I still remember how sweet you tasted,” he said, dragging his tongue over his mouth before following the swipe with the pad of his thumb.
His confession made her heart tick a little faster. His implication was provocative, naughty, and falling from his lips, ever so beautiful. “If that’s true, you wouldn’t have me on this wheel now, would you?”
“A Catherine Wheel is something you’ll learn to enjoy if your Master uses it properly.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” she grumbled, jerking toward the left when a cool breeze blew across the room. A door slammed in the distance. She tried to lift her head off the small pillow supporting her. “Who’s in here?”
“Don’t worry about them.”
“Them? What? Are you out of your mind?” Victory swallowed a few times. Writhing against the binds securing her legs against the wheel’s spokes, she experienced a combination of sensations, and each one sent an independent tingle up and down her body.
“Unlike some of the men you’ve had in your bed recently, I’m actually of sound mind,” he said, removing the lens cover. He stood behind the camera and fiddled with an attachment. “There. I’ve made the right adjustments. We’re raring to go.”
“No, we aren’t,” she weakly objected. “Who’s in here?” The unknown was enticing. The allure of the unexpected piqued her interest and fed her curiosity as much as her lust.
“You’ll see soon enough,” he promised, joining her.
“I’m not for this, Devon.”
“I think you are.” He stroked his cock. “We could have a lot of fun together, Victory. I seem to remember a gal who rode my face like she was riding an untamed pony. Remember her?”
“Yes, but—” Oh God, he was right. They could have a
He awaited a sign, some sort of signal. Once the first low moan slipped from her lips, he knew he had her right where he wanted her.
Well, almost.
Chapter Five
“I didn’t agree to this!” Victory yelled, wiggling her hands. She stretched her neck and looked at Devon, ready to kill him for manipulating her. “This isn’t funny, Devon.”
“Domination and submission isn’t a laughing matter, doll,” he said, affixing a video camera to a tripod.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He winked. “You let me worry about the pictures. I’ll make sure to capture the right angle.”
“Get me off this wheel!” she yelled. “How did we go from kissing to this?”
Devon stroked his chin. “Good question. I typically don’t kiss on the first date.”
“This isn’t our first time together,” she bit out. “I know it’s been a couple of years, but I don’t buy the fact you suddenly have a memory lapse and don’t remember who joined you and Addison when you rented a room at the Knoxville Hilton. Since we reconnected, it’s all you’ve talked about.”
“It’s all I’ve thought about for nearly two damn years. You’ve been on my mind too damned often.”
Good. At least she wasn’t the only one to leave the Hilton with delicious memories of an event cut short. Anytime anyone in the MC had spoken Devon’s name, she’d bent an ear, dreading the day when she might overhear one of the Angels confirm her worst fears—he’d married, left the MC, no one knew where he was or worse, one of the Angels had killed him.
She remembered the Angels making fun of him after they’d worked out some sort of deal with the Heroes and Rogues. They’d called him a pussy because he’d stopped dabbling in prostitution, and they’d lied and said they wouldn’t manufacture meth in exchange for his agreement. She knew Devon. She knew what made him tick. He didn’t stop because the Angels told him to. He quit because he wasn’t that kind of man, and after Addison died, he’d changed. Victory had seen the transformation the day the cops had taken Damsel away in cuffs.
“I still remember how sweet you tasted,” he said, dragging his tongue over his mouth before following the swipe with the pad of his thumb.
His confession made her heart tick a little faster. His implication was provocative, naughty, and falling from his lips, ever so beautiful. “If that’s true, you wouldn’t have me on this wheel now, would you?”
“A Catherine Wheel is something you’ll learn to enjoy if your Master uses it properly.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding,” she grumbled, jerking toward the left when a cool breeze blew across the room. A door slammed in the distance. She tried to lift her head off the small pillow supporting her. “Who’s in here?”
“Don’t worry about them.”
“Them? What? Are you out of your mind?” Victory swallowed a few times. Writhing against the binds securing her legs against the wheel’s spokes, she experienced a combination of sensations, and each one sent an independent tingle up and down her body.
“Unlike some of the men you’ve had in your bed recently, I’m actually of sound mind,” he said, removing the lens cover. He stood behind the camera and fiddled with an attachment. “There. I’ve made the right adjustments. We’re raring to go.”
“No, we aren’t,” she weakly objected. “Who’s in here?” The unknown was enticing. The allure of the unexpected piqued her interest and fed her curiosity as much as her lust.
“You’ll see soon enough,” he promised, joining her.
“I’m not for this, Devon.”
“I think you are.” He stroked his cock. “We could have a lot of fun together, Victory. I seem to remember a gal who rode my face like she was riding an untamed pony. Remember her?”
“Yes, but—” Oh God, he was right. They could have a
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