Just One Night, Volumes 1-3 Read online

“May I help you?” I call out through the door as I look through the peephole, not wanting to open it, just in case my fear hasn’t been ridiculous after all. I listen for a response, but I don’t hear or see anyone out there.

  Curious still, I slowly unlock the deadbolt, taking a deep breath before finally pulling the door open, my bat resting against my left shoulder, ready to take out any threat.

  Holy fuck, I gasp, as my arm relaxes from its batting stance, the bat now loosely held by my right hand.

  BLAKE

  I made it all the way to the Brooklyn Bridge before turning the car around. Thoughts of Alyson fill my mind, drawing me back to her place.

  The night isn’t over, I think, as I make my way back to her apartment.

  It has only been a half-hour since I left her. I’m not sure what I’ll say to her once I arrive, but I cringe at the eagerness within me as I exit the car and rush to the front door of her building. I have never done anything like this before, and I know that come morning, I’ll probably regret running back to her in the middle of the night like an adolescent schoolboy.

  I haven’t felt this kind of pull within me in years, and my mind drifts back to a time when I was so lovestruck that doing things like coming back to see a woman after a date was the norm.

  But this wasn’t a date, and I wasn’t that adolescent boy anymore. I’m older and smarter now, and I won’t allow myself to ever be so weak again, or let any woman hurt me the way...

  Not again, I remind myself, trying my best to convince myself not to go there.

  But damn it, I just have to have Alyson for a little longer. A round two, so to speak. That shouldn’t hurt me any.

  As long as I’m not with her when the sun comes up, I am still keeping to my “one night only” rule, I tell myself repeatedly, as I scan the intercom to find her name.

  She has already managed to derail me from all my rules. This one rule must be kept, no matter what.

  Should I buzz her?

  No, I decide, not wanting to give her the chance to deny me the opportunity to see her. Instead, I buzz someone on the floor directly above hers and wait for the person to answer.

  “Hello?” A man’s woozy voice comes over the intercom.

  “Excuse me, but would you please buzz me in? I seem to have forgotten my keys. I’m in 5C.”

  The man curses softly under his breath but buzzes me in.

  That is easy.

  Taking the steps two at a time, I make it to her floor in no time, and even before catching my breath, I slowly knock on the door, eager to see her.

  Fuck, what if she thinks I’m desperate?

  When she asks who’s knocking, I can’t breathe. I’m still doubled over from running up the stairs and am still trying to steady my breath. Soon, however, she opens the door, and she’s standing in front of me, wearing nothing but an oversized robe, which is hanging off her shoulder, and she’s holding a metal bat in her hand.

  Fuck!

  “Blake? What are you… is everything okay?” Alyson asks, her brows furrowed in confusion.

  Taking a deep breath, I stare at her, taking in her perked, swollen breasts, visible through the slight opening in her robe, her hair cascades across the soft exposed skin of her shoulder.

  I don’t answer her question. Instead, I close the distance between us. Her breath suddenly hitches in her throat as I softly push her back inside the apartment, kick the door closed with my foot, and claim her mouth with me in a matter of mere seconds.

  No time to waste.

  She doesn’t protest; instead, she falls into me, allowing me to deepen the kiss. Our tongues dance sweetly and passionately as I turn her around, lifting her into my arms and pressing her body back against the closed door. My hips hold her in place as she wraps her legs around my waist. Taking the bat away from her without breaking our embrace I allow it fall to the floor before bringing my hands back to her, tugging on her robe, pulling it slightly off her shoulders, and feeling her silky, soft skin against my fingers.

  Ah, so soft!

  Pulling away, she pants harshly. “But… I thought you said just one night?” she asks, between breaths.

  “The night isn’t over yet, Alyson.”

  ALYSON

  Holy shit, holy shit! Blake is in my apartment and he smells so fucking good… so hot.

  I groan as my steady breathing changes to short panting breaths, excitement coursing through my veins. Grabbing fistfuls of his silky hair in my hands, I lose myself in his hungry kiss, feeling the need he has for… what exactly?

  The man came back. Shit, you must have done something right, I think, as I and smile against his lips.

  “Something you care to share?” he asks me, as he breaks away from the kiss, one eyebrow raised, seemingly in amusement.

  I blush slightly, not sure whether or not I should share my thoughts with him. Surely, the rough and tough Blake can see the humor in his actions. Mr. A-contract-is-a-must has been a flustered mess all evening. Forgetting the condom, the contract, and, although I can’t prove it, I am fairly sure that he doesn’t normally drive his dates home after their encounters. Yet, he has done all those things with me tonight, and he did indeed come back to me, perhaps the most inexperienced submissive on the planet.

  Balls to the wall, you might as well just go with it. You aren’t going to see him again after tonight.

  Feeling brave, I look at him, a smile still playing on my lips. “Did you miss me already, Blake?” I ask, in a teasingly playful manner.

  His smile falls away, and he stares at me for a few moments, his face impassive, not giving me a clue away what he’s thinking. I begin to regret my words as I wait for him to show a reaction, any reaction. Have I ruined the moment? Have I crossed some sub-line that I shouldn’t have?

  Unexpectedly, he sets me down upon my feet, his eyes never leaving mine as he does so. The thumping of my heart is all I can hear as we maintain eye contact until suddenly I remember reading an article online which states that a sub should never look her Dom directly in the eyes.

  Who the fuck came up with such an archaic rule?

  Ancient though as it might be, I don’t want to disappoint him. I pull my eyes away from his, staring down at my hands closed and resting in front of me instead.

  “No. Look at me,” he finally commands, his voice harsh yet strained with some emotion that I can’t quite place. I do as I am told, raising my eyes up to meet his, and feeling the sudden charge of electricity in the air between us, as his eyes darken, and his lips part, softly panting.

  “The night isn’t over yet,” he groans softly, repeating his earlier words, although it seems he might have said it more for himself than for me. He swiftly takes my hand into his, turns quickly on his heels, and leads me back into my apartment.

  His eyes wander to and fro, searching, until he spots my bedroom door, which was left ajar, and with my bed directly in his line of sight. Striding to the room with strong, purposeful steps, he enters, pulling me along behind him.

  First man to ever step foot into your bedroom and you have your stuffed animals stretched out over your bed. Nice… just fucking nice. So damn sexy, Lane!

  I cringe as I watch him intently, trying to gauge his reaction to my minimal space. The room isn’t much; it contains a simple white iron twin bed, set in the very center of the room, with a baby pink comforter over it and matching curtains. My stuffed animals, which vary in size, lay against my pillows, roughly ten of them. The room appears to have been decorated for a toddler. Given the fact that I was only seven when I lost my parents, I did not want to part with many of the things from my adolescent years. I never dreamed that I would ever have such a fine, sexy specimen walk into this bedroom anytime soon.

  Turning to face me, he drinks me in as I stare up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say or do something, anything. Blake peers down at me, his piercing gaze precipitously revealing the desire brewing within him, yet he seems hesitant to make a move. He’s waiting, perhaps pleadi
ng?

  Haltingly, I step close to him, laying my hands on his sculpted chest. His breath hitches at my touch, but it only encourages me to further my advances.

  Shit. I am really doing this. I am going to seduce Blake in my damn bedroom—in front of Mr. Bear-Bear. God, I really need to redecorate this fucking room.

  Slowly, I unbutton his shirt, my eyes still fixated on him. He doesn’t stop me, and, when I have his shirt completely unbuttoned, he allows me to tug it off of him, letting it fall to the floor. Returning my hands to his chest, I place a line of soft kisses on his hard, chiseled chest, drawing a gasp from him, as I flick my tongue against his nipple.

  Of course, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, but I suddenly feel drunk… drunk on the fact that he returned… just for me, even if it is only for tonight, something inside him was apparently unable to forget me.

  BLAKE

  Alyson is completely oblivious to the effect she has on me. It’s evident in the way she looks up at me each time she plants a kiss on my chest, almost as if she’s asking my permission for her to continue. The feeling of Alyson’s tongue flickering against me is almost enough to make me push her onto the bed and fuck her until morning, but I still haven’t yet decided on what I want to do with her.

  Everything within me wants to dominate this woman, to spank her beautifully rounded ass until it’s a deep, beautiful crimson as punishment for luring me back to her place, yet another part of me, the part that tended to her needs earlier, fears that I might scare her away. How have I reached such an impasse?

  Stop fucking overthinking this, I chastise myself.

  Taking a deep breath, I reach my decision.

  “Too many clothes,” I murmur to her, and she immediately stops dead in her tracks at the sound of my voice, a smile playing at her lips. I now know that she’s recalling her own words to me earlier this evening.

  “Take off your robe.”

  Slowly, I pace around her, drinking in her plump, full figure as she makes quick work of ridding herself of the oversized garment. She now stands before me, shyly, with her hands cupped in front of her.

  “On your knees, Alyson,” I hiss softly into to her ear, while standing behind her.

  Alyson eagerly falls to her knees, and my groin goes taut at her immediate compliance. “Good girl,” I purr, as I stop directly in front of her. She is so eager, so willing.

  Her eyes remain downcast, but the steady rise and fall of her chest indicates just how much I affect her. She’s excited, and I can already tell that she is wet for me.

  “You have been quite a handful, Ms. Lane. Very naughty in the way you’ve distracted me tonight. What shall I do with you?”

  She whimpers, and I have to fight my need to fling her onto the bed and bury myself inside her tight pussy again in response to that beautiful sound, submissive sound.

  “Look at me.”

  She obeys my command without hesitation, her head coming up, her eyes meeting mine from behind her long lashes, to meet my intense stare, letting me see the desire stirring deep inside her hooded and beautiful, crystal blue eyes.

  She licks her lips, causing my own eyes to fall to her perfect, now-parted lips. Bringing my hand up, I tug her hair back, and she gasps in surprise. I can’t help but notice the intense longing in her gaze, her bottom lip now held between her teeth. She wants me… wants this.

  “Don’t bite your lips, unless you want me to take that sweet mouth of yours with my dick,” I half-whisper.

  She releases the moist pink flesh, never taking her eyes off of me.

  God, she looks gorgeous, perfect in every way.

  “So beautiful,” I murmur, as I tug her up by tightening my grasp on her hair. “So damn beautiful.”

  She groans softly. “Do you know what I want to do to you?” I ask, as I move her closer to the bed. I watch as her breathing increases, her eyes are barely open, but her gaze is still intent on me and filled with her greedy, lusty desire.

  She regards me silently before answering, “Spank me, Sir?”

  Oh Alyson, Alyson…. So innocent, so right…

  Pushing her softly onto the bed, I swiftly flip her over so that she is now lying on her stomach, my hands still tightly gripping her hair.

  “I’ve been wanting to paint that creamy ass of yours red from the second you first walked into my club,” I growl, as I slowly massage her tender flesh with my free hand.

  “Ah, so smooth and soft. Do you want me to spank you, Alyson? To paint your fucking ass red before I fuck you again? Is that what you want?”

  She moans, breathlessly, now panting, as I continued my ministrations on her plump, soft flesh.

  “Words, Alyson. Let me hear you, darling,” I tell her, stilling my hand on her behind.

  Fuck! Say yes!

  “Oh, God, yes,” she moans, just before I bring my hand down, striking her fleshy round ass. She gasps in surprise as she inhales sharply.

  She stills, but for only a moment, allowing the initial shock to ebb before she pushes her ass up against my hand.

  “You like it, don’t you?” I whisper into her ear, allowing my hot breath to tease her lobe until she whimpers softly.

  I massage her now pink-tinted skin tenderly before lifting my hand to once again to strike against her flesh at a different spot.

  This time she doesn’t gasp; instead, she moans and tightly grips the comforter as she allows the sting to turn into pleasure, my hands helping, as I again knead her flesh.

  Running my hands over her, I slide them down along her voluptuous ass and reach between her cheeks, through to her silky folds, plunging one finger into her warm, dripping pussy, only to be rewarded by her luscious wetness.

  “You’re so fucking wet,” I whisper, as she releases a deep groan.

  She whimpers again when I pull my finger out of her wet channel, causing me to smile down at her wanton state.

  Perfect. She is perfect.

  Without warning, I spank her again, harder this time, wondering just how much this woman can possibly withstand before she starts shrieking. To my surprise and amazement, she continues moaning in torturous pleasure before I can even begin to caress her now crimson flesh.

  “Ah… harder,” she cries out, as I repeatedly slap at her tender ass before kneading her stings away. Each time, she reciprocates by grinding against my hands, urging me on. Before long, she is shuddering beneath me, heaving and shaking as her arousal deepens.

  “Blake… Sir, please,” are her only words, and I can no longer hold back the need burning within me.

  Take her, now! It’s my only thought as I release her hair and back away from the beautiful sight before me.

  She hadn’t screamed bloody murder, hadn’t cried endless tears, as I rained down blows on her soft, delicious ass. She enjoyed every moment of it, wanting to feel the delicious sting of my hand on her ass.

  Slowly, I undress, leisurely unbuttoning my pants and slipping them off, as I peer down on this lovely woman, her reddened, sumptuous ass still displayed before me. She takes a sharply drawn breath at the sound of my clothing falling to the floor in anticipation, and I cannot deny that my anticipation of sinking deeply into her delectable folds also makes my heart race, eager to fill her again.

  Placing my right arm around her torso, I hoist her body to the center of the bed, flipping her over, so that she now is lying on her back, giving me a view of her feverish eyes, which are fully dilated with passion.

  It’s a glorious sight to behold. Her smooth, silky soft skin is coated in a light sheen of sweat, and her breathing is rapid and uneven as she waits for me to take her.

  And take her, I will.

  ALYSON

  Oh. My. God. That was… fuck… that was erotic as hell!

  Those BDSM videos I watched didn’t do justice to what just happened between Blake and me. I was certain that I wouldn’t enjoy such a treatment, but damn, it was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced—the sting of his hand coming down on my exposed
ass, followed by the warm, soft caress of his hand, nearly had me coming apart at the seams, and that was even before the intrusion of his skillful fingers.

  How can something that seems so demeaning actually feel so damned good? Maybe these submissive people really are onto something.

  Blake knelt before me, peering down at me with a dark, unexplainable expression on his face. I’d have normally felt highly uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny, but the rise and fall of his heaving chest eased me.

  He is trying to maintain his control, I realized, and I instantly felt empowered at the realization. It seems I am not the only one to be completely awestruck at our sexual chemistry.

  Feeling thrilled at the thought that he could actually be this affected by me, I teased him, dragging my lip through my teeth, ever so slowly, as I gazed up at him through my lowered eyelashes.

  Don’t punk out on me now Mr. Hanson.

  I’m not a confident woman. I’m not one to openly flirt with the opposite sex at all, but seeing him so… what is the word I am looking for?

  Primal. No. Hungry… Yes! He is fervently hungry, with his desire so clearly expressed by the depth of his gaze, almost painfully so, as he fights to control himself.

  A guttural groan suddenly erupts from deep within his throat as his eyes focus on my lower lip. Before I can even register what he’s going to do, he’s on top of me, capturing my mouth in a smoldering kiss, stealing my breath, and I am lost in his heat.

  We are all hands, lips, and teeth, panting, moaning and groaning as we press our bodies deeper into each other. Feverishly, he explores my mouth, our tongues deliciously intermingling and setting my body ablaze.

  Clawing at his arms, back and shoulders, I writhe beneath him, desperate for him to quench the burning ache between my legs. The throbbing pulse between my thighs increases with each twirl of his tongue, and I can’t help but arch my hips up into his, silently pleading for him to end this torturous teasing. I keep my eyes closed when he releases my lips and nips at my jaw, his hands alternately tugging and gripping firmly at my breasts.