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From the ruins of an abandoned church comes Baltimore’s hottest and most exclusive play club. Twelve Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemy…
He thinks he caused her pain, but she knows he’s the only one who can heal her…
Kenna Sloane lost her career and her arm in the Marines, and now she feels like she’s losing herself. Submission is the only thing that ever freed her from pain and made her feel secure, and Kenna needs to serve again. Bad. The only problem is the Dom she wants once refused her submission and broke her heart, but, scarred on the inside and out, she’s not looking for love this time. She’s not even sure she’s capable.
Griffin Hudson is haunted by the mistakes that cost him the only woman he ever loved. Now she’s back at his BDSM club, Blasphemy, and more beautiful than ever, and she’s asking for his help with the pain he knows he caused. Even though he’s scared to hurt her again, he can’t refuse her, because he’d give anything to earn a second chance. And this time, he’ll hold on forever.
“Use your safewords if you need them, Kenna.”
Griffin hesitated only one more second.
And then he was on her. His mouth on hers. His tongue sinking deep. His hands in her soft blond waves. The moan she unleashed shot straight to his cock and made him want to wring every moan he’d missed these five long years out of her beautiful, curvy body.
“Put your arms around my neck,” he said. When she did, he cupped her ass in his hands and pushed off the couch. “Hang on, little one.”
He made for the adjacent door to the play room, but, good as it was, that one kiss hadn’t been nearly enough. Not when he was absofuckinglutely starving.
Pinning her to the wall, he dove back in again. Kissing, claiming, devouring. He ground himself against her, the strangled cry she released around his tongue making his balls heavy and full. “I’m not sure you realize what you’re getting into with me, Kenna. Because I’ve missed the hell out of making you come.”
“Oh, God,” she rasped.
“God can’t save you. Not from me. Not tonight.”
He swung open the door, the motion-activated lights coming on as they moved into the play room. Others occasionally used this space, but he used it most. He’d designed and installed the furniture, suspension hooks and shackles, and pulley systems in the room for all different kinds of bondage play, and he’d outfitted the storage cabinets with every possible implement he’d need, too.
And he had just the thing in mind, for tonight.
“Feet down,” he said.
The way she slid down him nearly drove him insane, and then he stepped back and considered her body suit. It was so fucking sexy that he hated to ruin it, but PVC was a bitch to get on and off.
“I fucking love and hate that body suit right now,” he said, planting a stern expression on his face.
Amusement flashed across her eyes. “Sorry, Sir,” she said, not sounding sorry at all.
A thought came to mind and he retrieved a roll of red Kinesio tape from a cabinet. Tearing a length off he said, “I’m going to allow you the suit. This time. But I need you to tell me where the prosthesis ends and your arm begins. Can you do that for me?”
“Yes,” she said, lifting her arm as he moved in. “The stump extends about two inches below my elbow.”
“Here?” He held the tape over the black of her suit. When she nodded, he gently applied the red marking around her forearm. “Once we start, you have carte blanche—for tonight—to speak. I want you vocal. I want you telling me how I’m making you feel.” He nailed her with a stare. “Don’t let me hurt you. Don’t even let me get close.”
“I won’t, Master Griffin. I can handle this.”
“I doubt don’t it, Kenna, but I will cut the scene if I have even an inkling that I’m causing unintentional pain that you’re not owning up to.” He arched a brow. “Are we clear?” She gave a fast nod. “Good. Then spread your feet and put your hands at your side. Now.”
Her ready compliance fucking slayed him. After all this time, it really did.
“Very good. Now, don’t move a muscle unless I tell you to. Because the scene begins right now.”
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