Two Strikes Read Free Page A

timid, which wasn’t always a bad thing depending on the dominant, or she was behaving the way she thought Max liked his women. Giselle understood the temptation. Max was gorgeous with that dark hair and those blue-green eyes, and he had a reputation for rocking women’s worlds…assuming they could hang in there long enough. They were always too impatient for him—just wanted the sex without all the lead-up, and Max told Giselle he could always tell. Furthermore, Max liked a little undercurrent of spunk. He liked controlling that sass and cheek inside his playroom, but out in the real world, he found it endearing.
    Max always said he needed someone like Giselle, but Giselle wasn’t willing to put up with his erratic schedule and the cloak-and-dagger nature of his job. She wanted to go home to someone every night and wake up in a tangle of limbs. She didn’t want to open her eyes at sunrise and wonder if her lover had come home safe from work. The thought of worrying constantly if Max’s radio silence meant he’d gotten shot again and that he was laid up in some hospital didn’t appeal to her. She worried enough as it was.
    She and Max were good for each other in a lot of ways, but they couldn’t be together.
    Footsteps padded across the polished cement floor, and Giselle could feel the other woman hovering nearby.
    “Queen G’s nipples are quite sensitive.” Max dragged the end of his crop around her right areola, and then flicked the tender nipple with his fingers.
    She squeaked and couldn’t help it, although she had expected his touch.
    He was right. Thirty seconds of nipple torture, and she’d be begging him to bend her over and fuck her soundly.
    If he heard her mewling noise, he didn’t address it.
    She drew up onto her tiptoes as first her left nipple squeezed inside a clamp, and then the other.
    Max skimmed his fingers down between her breasts, and suddenly there was a light pull of both nipples inside their clamps.
    She cried out.
    Damn him .
    At least he hadn’t added weights this time.
    “Tell her, Queen G. Does that hurt you?”
    “Yes,” she said honestly. Truth was important, because without truth, a good dominant couldn’t learn how far to push.
    “Why do you let me hurt you?” he asked.
    “Because the pain will give way to pleasure.”
    Indescribable pleasure, because Max knew what the fuck he was doing, and she trusted him to do it. That was the rub. Without the trust, there’d be no room for pleasure.
    “Spread your legs for me.”
    He nudged each foot a bit farther outward and sucked in a bracing breath.
    The sound of that sharp inhale worried Giselle. Where was his typically exquisite self-control, today, and what was he going to do to her this time? Use the vibrating wand on her clit and not allow her to move an inch or else risk his discipline again? Bring her to the brink repeatedly only to walk away, leaving her unsatisfied until he saw fit to finish? She’d never been good at holding back her orgasms, and he knew it.
    “Grab the rope, Queen G,” he said, and the sound of an unfurling of a zipper made Giselle’s skin tingle with anticipation.
    She fisted the rope overhead with both hands, and suddenly his hands were on the backs of her thighs. He picked her up as if she were light as a feather. The tension in her shoulders from her holding her arms overhead eased a bit now that she was a bit higher, her legs around his hips. He spun her back around, and carried her back a few feet to press her spine to the wall. His cock teased at her slit, and even if Dawna didn’t hear Max’s hiss, Giselle did.
    Max was becoming unhinged. Odd.
    What would he be saying to Giselle had Dawna not been in the room?
    “Stand nearby, Dawna. Right there at the side. I want you to watch. To see what you won’t be getting tonight because you don’t want to please me, do you?”
    “I do want to please you, I—”
    Max must have shot his dark dom look at her, because she quieted.
    “We have a