Beyond Control(19)

"Yes." Lex smiled, sweet but somehow icy. "I was Cerys's best pupil, but only in certain subjects. Oral sex and improvised weaponry, for example, though rarely in conjunction."

Dallas damn near choked on his own spit. Fleming's bodyguard spluttered, though Mac only sighed and shook his head. "And there's your rough influence, O'Kane."

Grinning, Dallas smoothed a proprietary hand over Lex's hair. "What can I say. We like our women only mostly tamed. Where's the fun in a woman who'd never stab you just a little, if you pissed her off bad enough?"

"You like to live more dangerously than I do."

Dallas patted her hip. "No danger. You wouldn't stab me anywhere important, would you, love?"

Before she could answer, a melodious chime rang through the hall. The call to dinner, and whatever entertainment Cerys had devised. It was guaranteed to be illicit--Sector Two took cultured debauchery to heights unimagined even by most of the O'Kanes. For once, Dallas wasn't relieved to be spared more conversation. Watching Lex sharpen her tongue on bastards like Mac Fleming revved him harder than anything Cerys could have planned.

Fleming and his bodyguard drifted toward the long table, but Dallas slid his hand around Lex's abdomen to hold her back. He splayed his fingers wide over the skin bared by her corset--the skin marked with his name--and lowered his mouth to her ear. "I should have brought you with me years ago."

She dug her nails into the back of his wrist. "I'm here now."

Two steps to the left and he had her up against one of those ridiculous columns. It seemed a lot less ridiculous when he had Lex pinned to it, her hands trapped under his, her leather-clad ass rubbing against his cock. He found her ear again and bit it roughly enough to draw a moan from her. "If you were wearing a skirt, I'd be in you already. I'd f*ck you right here, while they sat down to dinner."

She wiggled and moaned again when he held tight. "Why? To show them what a big man you are?"

"No." He swept her hair aside and bit the back of her neck this time, setting a mark in her smooth skin. He'd have Ace do it for real someday--that much he'd already promised himself. For now, he used his teeth before licking the ravaged spot. "Because watching you wield a verbal knife gets me hot. Slice up that jackass from Seven over dinner, and I'll make it worth your trouble tonight."

"You're gonna do that anyway."

He knew Lex. He'd paid attention to all those trysts he'd pretended not to notice, had filed away the pleasures Lex pursued again and again. He knew how to stir fantasy to life. "Maybe I'll invite Bren or Mad to help me. Maybe both."

Lex shuddered. "You're a dirty tease, Declan."

"Only I get to f*ck you." He tugged at her hair, arching her head back until she had to meet his eyes. "But they're creative. They'll think of a dozen ways each to get you off."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she snapped them open again. "And you, telling them what to do, every step of the way."

He kissed her, hard and abrupt, a promise more than anything else. Her lips tasted too good for him to linger, or he really would decide f*cking her was better than gritting his teeth through awkward dinner chatter. He stepped back and smoothed her hair back into place. "I am the king, darling."

Her gaze raked over him, head to toe. Her breathing was just short of steady, and a delicate flush colored the skin above her corset. "I hope that means you can fake dinner conversation with my hand around your cock. You deserve the distraction."

He almost thought she was joking, but he shouldn't have. They'd only been seated for a few minutes when Lex landed her first verbal blow on Sector Seven, undercutting Colby's crudely leering greeting with cool ease. The lights dimmed before the man could recover, and a dozen of Cerys's girls glided into view, draped in transparent scarves and enough sparkling jewels to impress men used to pretty things.

Dallas appreciated the beauty of woman debauching each other, but Cerys's little show always lacked heat, honesty. The girls were pretty, no doubt, and flexible in ways some of the dancers at the Broken Circle would envy. But there was an emptiness to their movements, almost an innocence, if you could call a woman innocent as she was spread wide and stroked by a half-dozen hands before being flogged to supposed ecstasy.

For all their artful moans and graceful thrashing, Dallas couldn't see past the choreography. The other men never seemed to notice, but they weren't used to watching Lex and Noelle crawl all over each other, their tongue-tangling kisses hot because they weren't really meant for anyone else. Even on a stage, with a crowded bar of men riveted to her every move, Lex never let anyone forget she owned her own pleasure, and anyone who got to see it should count himself lucky.

So should any man seeking to tame her. As a second girl submitted to a whipping that turned her ass pink, Lex's hand settled in Dallas's lap. The theatrics planned by Cerys had done little enough to stir his blood, but Lex got it raging with a few clever strokes. If she'd started teasing him already, she no doubt meant to drive him crazy by the time dinner ended and they returned to their rooms.

When this was over, he'd have time to teach her the truth. He was always crazy when it came to her.





Chapter Eight



Their guest suite had been modeled after a nineteenth-century Parisian brothel, complete with wide, velvet-covered chaises, elaborate crown moldings, and gilt-edged wallpaper. Everything was decorated in shades of red and gold, opulent in a heavy, desperate sort of way, and Lex hated it on sight.

Cerys had chosen it purposefully, of that much she was sure. The woman never did anything by accident, but always by design. This room, with its low lighting and furnishings that looked cheap no matter their extravagant expense, was meant to remind Lex of her origins. Of her place.

No matter how far she ran, it said, she would always be a whore.

Mad was sitting on one of the sofas, smoking. Lex dropped beside him, kicked off her shoes, and plucked the cigarette from his hand. "I hope you had a better evening than we did."

"Hard to tell, sometimes, with Bren." Once she'd taken a puff, Mad rescued the cigarette and took a long drag. "Sometimes I think he's ready to blow a vein, and it turns out he's having the time of his life."

Bren glowered at them from the bar across the room. "This is my relaxed face."

Lex laughed. "Mad's right. It looks just like your I'm about to rip a bastard's spine out through his ears face."

"And all of his faces are a little busted." Mad tossed the rakish fall of hair from his eyes and grinned at Lex. "He wishes he was pretty like me."

"Mmm." She ran her thumb over his lower lip. "And you wish you were pretty like Dallas."

Mad bit the pad of her thumb and caught her wrist. "Where is our fearless leader?"

"On his way." She did her best to look innocent as she tilted her head. "The guy from Eight won't talk in front of simple-minded females like me, you know."

"Lucky you. He's more boring than God and all the angels." Mad dropped her hand back into her lap with a wink. "Speaking of higher powers, you keep your pretty little hands to yourself. I'll cuddle you all night long, but this--" his finger brushed her collar, "--means I'll answer to one vengeful motherf*cker if I get too friendly."

"You could help me blow him." The mental images were more reminiscence than imagination. "Wouldn't be the first time you'd licked my tongue and his cock."

"Sweet words won't change my mind," Mad informed her with mock severity, but she could see the heat of memory in his gaze, as well. He'd always taken pleasure as freely as he gave it, and the more warm bodies around him, the better.

"Too bad." She shifted on the couch until she was leaning against the opposite arm with her feet in Mad's lap. "I think Dallas is feeling a little wild tonight. But if you don't want to play..."

Rolling his eyes, he dropped his hands to her feet. He was clever with his fingers and knew how to push his thumbs right where her foot ached from her shoes. "Don't be dense, lovely. If Dallas is feeling frisky, even Bren and his busted face will jump in the pile with you."

Bren grunted before draining his drink. "You're sure as hell not getting any of this, though," he told Mad.

Mad winked at Lex. "We'll see, won't we?"

Spoken as if he had no doubt Bren would f*ck him, given half a chance. Then again, few people in the world had proven immune to Mad's charms. "You're terrible," Lex proclaimed. "And delicious."

"We're all--" The door crashed open hard enough to make him jump, and he jerked his hands away from Lex's feet as if he'd been caught with them down her pants.

Dallas was too furious to notice. He slammed the door shut behind him and kicked it for good measure, his face carved in forbidding lines. "I hate these motherf*ckers."