Worship Me Page 6

  Lunch? The only thing I needed was coffee and two aspirin to ease the ache in my muscles. I couldn’t deal with a spicy four-course meal when I was barely even awake and functioning.

  “We’ll be out in a few minutes, Mama. Let us wake up a little.”

  She blushed as her eyes scanned over us, probably realizing we were naked. She took three slow steps backward. “I hope I didn’t…” she started to say, but her voice trailed off.

  “No,” James said quickly as I giggled.

  “Uh,” she muttered and stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door with her. Before it closed, she peeked inside and smiled. “I could use another grandbaby.” The door closed quickly, and she disappeared before either one of us could reply.

  James rolled on top of me, grinding his dick into me. “Wanna give it a shot?”

  I stared at him, not amused by the idea. “Are you kidding me?”

  His eyebrows drew together as he gazed down at me, his body pressed against mine. “I never kid about fuckin’, doll.”

  “I’m all about the dick, but not another baby.”

  He tilted his head up, and his eyes darted around the room as if he was thinking about it. He’d better not be. “Just messin’ with your head. Our babies are more than I ever wanted. I’d rather have some alone time with my wife and my favorite part of her body.” He smirked.

  “Not to be a party pooper, but I’m hungry and a little sore from last night.”

  That comment made his smirk grow into the biggest damn I’m-so-proud-of-myself-for-making-you-ache smile. “We better feed you. I wanted to go back to the club tonight. You game?” He arched an eyebrow.

  I would’ve said no, but my pussy contracted at the thought of that damn bench and all the dirty shit he did with me. I couldn’t help but say, “Fuck yeah.” Plus, I was hoping I’d find out more about the old James…the one before I ruined him forever.

  He nuzzled his face into my neck, bumping my very sore middle with his rock-hard dick. “Missin’ my cock already, baby?”

  “Always.” I smiled.

  I’d learned it was easier to puff up his ego than to tell him what I was actually feeling. At least at times when he thought he was the man, with his mighty pecker that held the secrets to whatever bullshit guys told themselves. They were insecure creatures who seemed to need constant reassurance from the moment they were born. So, I rolled with it. Telling him a white lie saved me time and a whole lot of hassle.

  “I have plans for you tonight.”

  Now, that had my attention. “Do I get to be the Master tonight?”

  James howled, rolling onto his back and taking me with him. His fingertips dug into my hips as he slid my body against his cock, sending a shiver down my spine. “Baby, you think you want control, but I own your body.”

  “Let’s not kid ourselves, sweetheart. My pussy rules you,” I told him with a sinister laugh.

  Because, in all reality, he might have thought he held the reins, but my pussy controlled his everything. Right down to the way he thought and his day-to-day actions.

  If we were being completely honest, we’d all agree that pussy made the world go round.

  Men weren’t motivated to become wildly successful and filthy rich just for shits and giggles. Wealth and power usually turned the ugliest man into a pussy king, obtaining gold-digging beauty queens who previously would’ve been out of his league.

  Even their most basic actions were based on pussy. They knew if they did one thing, they’d be paid in all the sweet cunt they could handle. But if they did the other, they were going to have blue balls until they earned their way back to the motherland. See, I knew how the world worked. I knew James was motivated by what was between my legs. I was okay with it. I was more than okay; I accepted it and used it to my advantage.

  After I climbed off James and made myself presentable, we sat around the table with his parents and feasted on so many Cuban goodies I was pretty sure he’d have to roll me into Taboo tonight. I leaned back in my chair, rubbing my stomach and lost in a blissful food coma.

  Mr. Caldo folded his newspaper carefully and set it next to his plate. “It’s so nice to have you kids here. I wished you lived closer.”

  “When are you two going to move by us?” James asked his father.

  “Ask your mother.” He rolled his eyes and raked his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. “She’s the boss.”

  His mother grabbed a stack of plates and headed toward the sink. “We’ve been discussing it. I love everyone around here, but I need to spend time with my grandchildren before they get too old.”

  “You do, Mama. You could spend time with them whenever you want.”

  That was code for we were going to drop them off for a weekend so we could fuck like bunnies without the kids knocking on the door and interrupting our fun. Sometimes I felt guilty about it, but once the house was whisper-quiet, the guilt passed quickly. It would be nice to have someone else to leave them with for a weekend, besides my parents. Anyway, the kids loved being away from us because my parents tended to go overboard with them and spoil them rotten. It was amazing my boys weren’t complete assholes because of them.

  “Maybe we’ll come visit and look at some places,” Mr. Caldo said. “We could use a little trip, Rose.”

  She leaned against the counter, wiping her hands on a towel and smiling. “Whatever you want, Evaristo.”

  Shit was serious when they used their full names. I prayed this conversation wasn’t for show. I would love to have his parents closer, not just so we could bang like bunnies, but so the boys could really get to know his parents and more about his Cuban heritage. They have the Italian bossy male thing down pat. Someday, their wives will be telling me how much I ruined them, and I’ll be proud.

  “Darling.” Mr. Caldo rose to his feet, almost gliding across the floor to embrace his wife. “You know it’s whatever you want.” He nuzzled her neck, rubbing his whiskers against her skin. “Isn’t that right, Mama?”

  She smacked him on the shoulder and laughed.

  Another perfect example that girl power ran the world. We just let the men think they were in charge. It was all a grand illusion that kept the world turning.

  If men realized we held the power, there would be an uprising until they got horny enough to cave.

  They all did in the end.

  Six hours later, we walked into Taboo for another night of sextivities. I spent the afternoon in the hot tub, soaking my ass and gearing up for another evening of being used by James. I wanted nothing to get in our way before we headed back to the west coast and picked up the boys at Thomas’s.

  James dressed me again, but thankfully, the man had good taste. Some of the women walking into Taboo had on the tackiest latex outfits that I wouldn’t be caught dead in, even if the Master holding my chain had an eighteen-inch pecker and made me orgasm from a single touch. I didn’t want to look like a complete wank in public even if was only at a sex club. Tonight, he’d dressed me in a dark turquoise bustier, with a black skirt that barely covered my ass and my favorite black Lady Peep Louboutins. Thank God he knew the difference between vixen sexy and trashy whore.

  I picked at the edge of my skirt, trying to pull it down a little because Hagan’s office was like a meat locker. But the material wasn’t forgiving and wouldn’t budge.

  Hagan sat across from us, flipping through a filing cabinet filled with past member’s applications. “I remember that bastard. He seemed okay, but he was one of the nastiest pricks we’ve had in here. I had to toss him out. I still can’t believe I fucked up.”

  James had asked him about Matías, showing him a photo, and shared the details of the investigation. Hagan went off the rails, slamming his hands down on the desk and muttering profanities about how he’d let a criminal slimeball into the club.

  “It happens, Hagan. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” James told him as I sat next to him, glancing around the office and staying relatively silent. “Guys like him k
now how to fly under the radar just long enough to get what they want. If the FBI can’t catch him, why would you?”

  Hagan let out a huff as he pulled out the folder for Kent Wilken, the alias Matías had used when applying at Taboo. Even with a thorough background check, nothing sent up a red flag, so he was permitted a trial membership, which was then revoked due to his piss-poor behavior.

  Hagan slid the folder across the desk before leaning back in the metal chair, rocking back and forth with his lips twisted. The guy was intense and a little bit scary, but some people would probably say the same thing about James just by looking at him.

  A photo on a shelf to my right caught my eye. It was of a group of men with oversized cigars hanging from their lips as they held up a gator they must’ve caught during alligator hunting season years ago. The man on the far left looked like my Jimmy, only twenty years younger and way tanner. Hagan was in the photo too—younger, handsome, and with the same intense stare he still had.

  But I kept staring at James. He looked so happy, carefree, and hot as fuck. He was still mouth-watering, but damn it if he wasn’t drop-dead gorgeous in his early twenties. I would’ve been all over that. Wait. I was, not too many years after that photo was taken. The rest was history. I imagined he had quite the following at Taboo too before he joined the DEA and eventually ended up in my bed.

  James flipped through the folder on Kent aka Matías. When my leg started to shake, he placed his hand on my knee with a light squeeze. I dragged my eyes away from the photo and glanced at him with a smirk. Some women might be jealous when they thought about their husband’s past, but I wasn’t. I was proud he was mine, and above all, he slipped a ring on my finger and not anyone else’s.

  “Can you make a copy of everything in here for me?” James asked, closing the folder and placing it on the desk in front of us.

  Hagan grabbed the folder and nodded. “Anything you need, James. You know that.”

  “I’ll pick it up on my way out.”

  Hagan smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Staying for a little while?”

  “We had such a great time last night, I thought I’d treat my wife to another night.” James peered over at me and winked.

  My face heated with embarrassment, but it quickly vanished when a dull, steady ache settled between my legs at the memory of last night. If James was giving, I was all about receiving.

  “Same room?”

  “What’s open?” James slid his hand up my thigh and settled his fingertips just under the hem of my skirt. The ache turned into a deep, needy throb.

  “Paradise, Punishment, or Pain.”

  “Hmmm,” James muttered, his eyes sliding to me as I chewed on my bottom lip.

  Fuck, I had punishment last night, and that was kick-ass. I’d take anything they had to offer because one thing I knew about my husband, he was going to do me so good that I’d be walking funny tomorrow.

  A slow smile spread across James’s face as he looked over at a waiting Hagan. “Paradise.”

  “Ahh.” Hagan chuckled. “My favorite.”

  Everyone else was smiling, so I did too. Fuck yeah. Bring on paradise, baby.

  “It’ll be open in an hour,” Hagan told us, typing James’s name into the schedule. “Until then, there’s a demonstration on whips in the main room that your li’l one might enjoy.”

  Um, nope.

  I was not a whip girl.

  Never been one and never would be. Even if that shit was hot last night. The girl who got her back almost branded by the soft leather looked like she dug it, and therefore, it was sexy. But in no way, shape, or form was James ever to use a whip on me. The man would soon find his balls missing if he even tried.

  Now, spanking… That was an entirely different story. I relished the sting of his hand against my ass, especially when his dick was buried so deep inside me that I could barely breathe. That was hot, and I did as much bad shit as I could just so James would smack my ass.

  Sometimes a girl had to do what a girl had to do to get her rocks off. Plus, messing with James’s head was fun, and the spanking was the bonus.

  James stood and yanked the chain attached to my collar. I was too lost in thought about the girl being whipped and all the ways I’d make James pay if he did the same thing to me. I scrambled to my feet, ready to head to paradise, but not before doing everything I could to earn a few spankings tonight.

  James

  I knew Izzy had the wrong idea about the pleasure room as soon as the words came out of Hagan’s mouth. It wasn’t about her pleasure, but mine. She still hadn’t realized it when I locked her hands in the overhead cuffs that hung down from the ceiling because she was practically buzzing with anticipation.

  “You’ve been a bad girl, Izzy,” I told her as I closed the clasp on the ankle restraints that were bolted to the floor. “A very bad girl.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, but she wasn’t. She never was. “I think you should spank me.” She licked her lips, staring down at me with hooded eyes.

  I looked back down at her foot, grabbing her other ankle to hide my smile. This woman. She was maddening and insatiable and totally mine. While we’d waited for the room, she’d made sure to break more than a few small rules. More than once, she didn’t address me properly and looked me in the eyes when I didn’t tell her to. Plus, she made sure to do it in front of other people. She wanted the spanking so badly, but then again, I wanted to give it to her too.

  I dragged my fingertips across her bare ass and pressed my lips to her neck. “Do you deserve a spanking?”

  Her head fell back, fully exposing her neck as it rested on my shoulder. “Yes, Master.”

  “Do you want a spanking?” I smiled against her skin, knowing damn well she wanted it and was about to lie.

  “No, Sir,” she answered quickly before licking her lips and backing her ass into me.

  “I think you deserve something with more…” My voice drifted off as I palmed her ass, feeling the plumpness in my palm. “Bite.” She shivered against me as soon as I spoke the word.

  One thing I knew about my wife, and a line I would never cross, was that she wasn’t into pain. Not like some of the women I’d been with. Izzy liked the sting of my palm against her skin. Sometimes, even a slap against her clit sent her into the stratosphere, but never once did she give any inclination that she enjoyed pain.

  “You want my hand, Izzy, but I’m not going to reward you.” I stepped away, grabbing the black leather crop off the wall. It had the perfect amount of snap that would make her happy and keep my hand from hurting for hours.

  “What are you getting?” She turned, trying to see what I had, but it was hidden behind my back.

  “Do you trust me, doll?” I whispered in her ear.

  She swallowed hard but nodded her answer.

  I walked around to her front and placed my hand against her jaw, dragging my thumb across her bottom lip. “I’d never hurt you.”

  “I know,” she breathed and stared me straight in the eye.

  I slid my hand down her neck, over the swell of her breast, and straight down her middle. When I pushed my fingers between her legs, she sagged in the chains and moaned. Izzy was wet. She wanted everything. She loved the anticipation and unpredictability as much as I did.

  She spread her legs wider, wanting more contact than I wanted to give, and I stepped backward, taking my hand with me. “First, I want you on your knees. Suck my cock, and maybe I’ll spank that pretty round ass while I fuck you.”

  Her eyes lit up, and she yanked at the chains. “You gettin’ a stepladder?”

  Using the crop, I slapped the inside of her thigh. Not hard enough to hurt, but enough that it made her yelp in surprise. “Your mouth needs to be workin’, not talkin’, doll.” I dropped the crop to the floor, pulling the lever above her head to allow her to kneel before me, still strapped into the restraints.

  She worked quickly despite her restraints, undoing my belt and the zipper on my jeans and yanking
them down far enough on my hips to free my hardened cock. She palmed my length, licking her lips in preparation before pressing the tip just beyond her teeth.

  I swayed backward, the feel of her mouth so consuming that my legs tingled. Izzy could suck the meanest cock. There was something about watching my mouthy spitfire on her knees, servicing me, that brought me so much happiness, something only another man could understand. Even after over ten years together, I craved her mouth just as much as I lusted after tasting her pussy.

  I rocked back on my heels as her fingers bit into the skin of my hips, holding me to her as she pressed forward and pulled back, working my cock like a master herself. At that moment, I was at my weakest. I was a slave to her and her warm, sweet mouth wrapped around my cock.

  I tangled my fingers in her long brown hair, holding myself steady as much as keeping her mouth closer to my body. My body convulsed as she swirled her tongue around the head, pulling it deeper into her throat, almost touching the back.

  “Mmm,” I groaned, wishing she could do this all night, but knowing that it would be impossible for me to last. She knew every spot to hit to send me over the edge faster, and I was powerless to stop her. “Fuck, baby.”

  Her tiny hand moved between my legs before she cupped my aching balls, pushing me closer to orgasm. My body surged forward, wanting every part of her to be touching every part of me. My eyes drifted over her body, taking in her beauty and nakedness with her legs spread and her breasts bouncing with each thrust forward, impaling her lips around my cock.

  Suddenly, I didn’t want to play. I didn’t want to be the Master with my submissive. I wanted to slide between her legs, lick every ounce of wetness from her body before I pummeled her pussy raw. I pulled back on her hair, removing her mouth from my cock and instantly missing the contact. “Up,” I said, motioning with my fingers for her to stand.

  She crawled to her feet, standing with her cuffed and chained hands at her side. I quickly removed my clothes before I unhooked her, taking the restraints off her hands and ankles and lifting her into my arms. “This won’t do.”

  She slid her palm against my chest and stared up at me. “Maybe you need a spanking.” She giggled.

  I climbed onto the king-sized bed, holding her in my arms, and laid her gently on her back. “I need to taste you.”

  Her arms drifted above her head as she stretched out, spreading her legs open with a salacious smile. “Feast,” she told me, but I didn’t need her permission, nor was I asking for it.

  I brought my mouth down, covering her middle with my lips and flicking her clit with my tongue. She quaked underneath me, moaning her appreciation for the pleasure I’d felt only moment ago. We kept our eyes locked on each other as I indulged in her flesh, and she fisted the comforter in her hands.

  When my cock couldn’t take much more, I crawled between her legs, pressing the tip to her opening and staring down at her. “I love you, doll.”

  “Jimmy,” she said, wrapping her arms around my shoulder. “Fuck me.”

  I didn’t move because I wanted more than that. She wanted to come, but fuck, so did I.

  “I love you too,” she finally replied, realizing what I was waiting for and was rewarded for her words with my dick.

  I pushed inside. Slow at first, relishing the feel of every inch of her encasing my dick like a vise. My lips crashed down on her breast as she cried out, and her legs wrapped around my waist.

  Moments like that, where I was making love to my wife, were still better than any thrill I’d ever had with a submissive at Taboo. They meant nothing to me. They were just a fuck. But Izzy…she was my everything. From the moment I set eyes on her, I knew she’d be mine.

  I took her slowly, reminding her who she belonged to as I fucked her. This wasn’t just about getting off…this was about us. The connection we’d always had, the spark that had always simmered under the surface, and the unpredictability that kept everything interesting.

  The feel of her against me, the way she purred in my ear as I pumped into her sent me barreling toward the edge, and I took her with me. We gasped together. We moaned. We were completely in sync as if we were meant to be together, like this, for eternity.

  I stared up at Victoria’s small apartment just outside the city limits of Miami. The neighborhood was riddled with old apartments, run-down businesses, and more than a few unsavory types walking the streets.

  “Stay in the car and keep the doors locked,” I told Izzy, glancing up at the gray stucco building and hoping it was just going to be a quick visit.

  After a weekend with my parents, I was more than ready to get home to our boys and back to work. I’d gathered all I could at Taboo, and we needed to move forward with the investigation, tracking down every lead I’d been able to obtain. The rest would be grunt work, mainly done through computers by tracking the alias Matías had used.

  “I’m not staying here.” Izzy hopped out of the car before I even had a chance to touch the door handle.

  “Damn it,” I muttered, jumping out of the Challenger and locking the door as I followed her. “Do you even know where you’re going?”

  “Nope.” She stopped moving, but she kept her back to me as I caught up to