Carte Blanche [Special Enforcers Series ] Read online

  "Can't say I approve,” he continued, “but it's your life. If that's how you want to play it, there's really not much I can do."

  She nodded, relieved that this fight, at least, wouldn't be too difficult. She had more battles coming her way and no energy to waste.

  All morning long, she thought about her next battle. She had planned to fight it that night, but a few hours sitting at her desk and filing old cases left her antsy, and right after lunch she told Hugo she was taking the afternoon off.

  When she arrived at Ray's, the door was open. He was working on fixing the lock, a focused expression on his face as he screwed in a new guard plate. He did throw her a quick glance as she reached the landing, along with a slight smile.

  "Hey. Sorry about breaking down your door."

  He shrugged. “I was long overdue for a better lock."

  "Can I come in?"

  He glanced at her again, the look on his features unfathomable. “Go ahead. I'll be with you in a minute. I want to finish this now."

  She was about to comment on how early it was for him when she noticed the suitcase standing upright near the kitchen wall. She tightened her fists briefly and forced them open again as she sat down in the one armchair that faced the door. She watched him work and wondered if he wanted to fix the lock so fast because he was leaving. Was she too late?

  There was something strange about the situation—something stranger than her presence in his apartment when two days earlier she had never wanted to see him again, and just the day before she had been ready to kill him. It was only when Ray finished his work and tried closing the door that she realized what it was. Until that moment, whenever they had been alone together, his attention had been entirely focused on her. She would never have imagined she'd miss being his focus that much.

  He picked up spare screws and a hammer from the floor and finally locked the door. He turned to her. Grace's heart stuttered.

  "Would you like something to drink?” Without waiting for her answer, he stepped into the kitchenette.

  "I'm fine."

  She could still see him above the breakfast bar. He seemed to take more time to put away his tools than was strictly necessary. She waited until he was back in the living room and standing a few feet from her, hands in his pockets, before she forced out the words she had prepared.

  "I came to apologize."

  He glanced back at the door. “You already did. And it's all fixed now."

  She shook her head. “No, not for the door. Well, yes, for the door, too.” She gave him a faint smile and felt emboldened when he replied in kind. “Mostly I wanted to apologize for doubting you. And thinking you were a killer. And a kidnapper."

  He shrugged. “You don't know me well enough to know better."

  "I thought I did,” she said softly, feeling a little silly as the words passed her lips, yet needing to let them out. “If I'd stopped for a minute, I'd have known. I chose not to look past your fangs because I was still angry with you. It was easier to put you in role of the bad guy than to give you a second chance."

  She had tried not to let herself expect too much, but watching him take a step back until he was leaning against the breakfast bar sent a pang of disappointment through her. It couldn't mean anything good that he was trying to put distance between them.

  He wet his lips. “Are you going to? Give me a second chance, I mean."

  "It doesn't look like it's up to me anymore,” she said, pointing at the suitcase. “You're leaving, aren't you?"

  He raked his fingers through his hair, making it spike up. The sudden urge to do the same and feel the silkiness of his hair coursed through her. She clasped her hands so she wouldn't move.

  "I don't know,” he answered with a frustrated sigh. “It depends on you, I guess."

  Grace almost smiled. “I could order you to stay,” she said, only half joking.

  Something flickered in Ray's eyes, a light that looked a lot like repressed hope, but it disappeared with a shake of his head.

  Frowning lightly, she stood and walked over to him, holding her head a little higher, her back a little straighter. This was not what she had planned to do, but Ray's involuntary reaction to her teasing seemed to demand that she slip into a familiar role. She looked straight into his eyes and tried to keep her voice cool and level.

  "What if Mistress Red ordered you to stay?"

  Seconds passed in complete silence. Ray lowered his eyes, and for a moment Grace was sure he would drop to his knees in front of her. When he looked up again, however, she couldn't help but wonder if she had lost him for good. He raised a slightly shaking hand to caress her face; his fingers were cool against her skin.

  "I like the scene,” he said very slowly. “I enjoy the scene, and at times I need it. But when both you and Keller left me behind, I realized it's not enough. I need more than a Master or Mistress. I need someone who will trust me, and give me second chances when I mess up, and...” His voice dropped to a whisper. “And love me. As much as I love them."

  Grace's mouth felt very dry, suddenly. She wasn't sure she had been ready for this when she had come to him. She wasn't sure either she was ready to say no to what he was offering. “These things take time.” She had to push the words out, and couldn't stop her voice from wavering. “Feelings like that don't just pop out of nowhere."

  He smiled, the tenderest smile he had ever offered her. “Don't they?"

  She realized then that, for all intents and purposes, he had just said he loved her. Her heart must have missed a beat. It was the only reason why her head would be feeling so light suddenly.

  "I can't...” Barely aware of what she was doing, she ran her left thumb against the base of her ring finger. She couldn't have said if she was looking for something, or making sure it wasn't there anymore. “I can't rush into a relationship. I need time—"

  "I have time. I have eternity in front of me. I can wait."

  Words were too much. She leaned into him and pressed her lips to his, very briefly. Ray's hands settled at her waist and gently drew her closer until their bodies were brushing against each other. She looked into his eyes, discovering a mix of desire and hope she knew all too well; she felt the same way. Maybe, she thought, it was time to take a chance.

  Kissing him again, soft and slow, she only broke apart for a second to pull his t-shirt over his head. His chest shook lightly when she splayed her hands over it. She caressed his shoulders, arms and back. For a few seconds, his fingers tightened on her hips before sliding to the front of her shirt. The buttons came apart; the shirt came off, followed by her bra. Ray's arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer still, until they were chest to chest. Grace wondered if he could feel her heart, beating for the both of them, as clearly as she could feel his cock pressing against her crotch through the layers of clothing. She continued touching him, sometimes with her fingertips only, sometimes with her full hands. After a moment, he followed her lead and started doing the same, trailing lines of sensations over her skin until her entire world was summed up in the touch of his hands, body and mouth.

  She was surprised when, without warning, he picked her up, his hands sliding at her waist and behind her knees. She looped her arms around his neck, and for a second the thought that she should chastise him for taking the lead this way brushed her mind. She pushed it away firmly. She had told him before she wasn't against him showing some initiative. As long as he didn't push things, she would allow him some leeway.

  His pace was steady as he carried her to the bedroom where he gently lay her down on the bed. Propped back on her elbows, she kept her eyes on him as he pulled off her flat shoes, pants and panties. Each of his movement was as reverent and gentle as he had ever showed himself as a submissive. He was still as tender when he sat on the bed next to her and, leaning down on his forearm, pressed a line of barely there kisses from her temple to the crook of her neck and on to her shoulder. A look in his eyes asked for permission; she granted it with a slight nod. His f
ree hand skimmed over her body, teasing her nipples to hardened points with the lightest of touches before traveling down over her side, to her thigh, then back up to the apex of her legs. Grace wondered if this was the way he touched a lover when he wasn't playing, but the question disappeared in front of a pressing need.

  "I want to touch you,” she said, tugging at the waistband of his jeans to make her point.

  "No one is stopping you, Mistress,” he replied, and even if his mouth was pressed against her shoulder, she knew he was grinning.

  She gave a light tap to his ass then started working on the buttons of his jeans. “You'll pay for this later, you reali—ooh..."

  Her light reprimand ended on a moan when his lips covered her right nipple and he started sucking lightly. Unfastening a button had never seemed so difficult. If he kept doing this, with his mouth, his tongue, his fingers—sneaky fingers, pressing into her to gather wetness and spread it over her clit—she'd never get him undressed. At that moment, getting him naked and getting her hand on his cock was all she could think of.

  With a shaky but determined hand, she pushed at his shoulder until he rolled onto his back. Once he was there, she finally managed to unbutton his jeans and, with his hips rising off the bed helpfully, slid them and his boxers off.

  "Much better,” she said, satisfied, as she curled her hand around his hardened cock and started stroking him.

  He hissed her name and thrust into the tight channel formed by her fingers a few times, then suddenly pulled her to him and rolled their bodies again.

  "You're adding to the list of things you'll need to pay for,” she warned, not really meaning the words but needing to hold on to her role.

  "Yes, Mistress,” he breathed, a light smile tugging at his lips.

  Her hand was trapped between their bodies, still holding his cock. He pulled back, giving her just enough room to maneuver. She guided him inside her, sighing as he slowly thrust forward. His eyes, just above hers, had never seemed so clear as they did at that moment when he froze, his cock all the way inside her.

  "Permission to speak, Mistress Red?” he asked in a whisper.

  Grace didn't trust herself to keep her voice steady, so she nodded her assent.

  "I'm trying to decide,” he murmured, his words a caress on her lips, “if I started falling in love with you when you first looked at me or when you first touched me."

  She couldn't answer, not in words, not yet, but she could kiss him, and buck her hips beneath him, and pull quiet groans from his throat until he was practically purring. They continued kissing and touching as they had before, slow and gentle, the same way his cock moved inside her, neither of them in any rush to finish this.

  Grace remembered how desperate he had seemed to touch her, the first time they had slept together. He was catching up on lost time now, his fingers playing over her skin and discovering sensitive spots she hadn't known existed until she was writhing beneath him.

  "Don't get used to this,” she said, teasing. “Next time might be hands off."

  He raised his head and looked at her with a wicked smile. “Even if I'm good?"

  Holding back a laugh, she rolled their bodies to be on top of him and sat up. His hands gripped her waist and helped her reinforced her rhythm as she thrust herself onto his cock. As the pleasure built in her, she grabbed his wrists and leaned forward, pinning them over his head. He closed his eyes, his face contorting as he held off his orgasm. She ground her clit against him a few more times, until she was ready, and breathed three words in the shell of his ear.

  "Come ... for me."

  He arched his hips up into hers and moaned aloud. She let go of his wrists and slid her hands down to weave her fingers with his. Pleasure took them together, and left them both gasping for breath.

  Moments passed. Their hands remained linked over his head, her body still draped over his.

  "Not fair, Mistress,” he said, no louder than a whisper.

  With her face pressed to the crook of his neck, her chuckling and answer came out muffled.

  "Who said Dommes have to play fair?"

  Laughing, he rolled their bodies to lie on top of her and kissed her, his slowly moving hips already preparing to pleasure her anew.

  Epilogue

  The whip cracked again, loud as thunder, and the submissive jumped just a second before the tip caressed her back, not even hard enough to leave a trace on her pale skin. Her smiling Master interrupted himself to make some comment or other about control, but Ray wasn't listening anymore. He had stopped paying attention the second his senses had warned him. His Sire had walked into the club and was approaching.

  Every few weeks, the owner of Carte Blanche arranged for a demonstration to be offered in the club. The windows of one of the private rooms could be completely removed, so that the room became an extension of the sitting area. Sofas and armchairs were placed in a semi circle in front of the now open wall, and the demonstration took place. Some teachers spoke very little, letting their actions speak for themselves; others alternated hands on demonstrations with explanations. Some even called for other Dominants to join them and try a new technique. Until that night, Ray had never cared much for whips. A few minutes into the demonstration, however, he had been hard and aching, and more than willing to take the submissive's place beneath the carefully controlled touch of the leather.

  "Alone, Childe?” Keller sat on Ray's right on the sofa and leaned in so he wouldn't be overheard, Ray supposed. “I've got to admit I didn't think you'd last an entire year. I think you deserve a nice reward. Anything you'd like?"

  From the corner of his eye, Ray could see him look at the demonstration and grin.

  "Anything like that, maybe?” Keller murmured. “You always liked the whip."

  Ray had to fight himself not to roll his eyes. Remaining perfectly still and silent, he kept his eyes on the demonstration. His attention, however, was focused on the familiar click of heels that he knew would return to him soon. He almost sighed when Mistress Red came back from the restroom at last, and since Keller had taken her seat, he slipped down to a kneeling position to offer her his place.

  "Thank you,” she said, sitting down without a look at Keller, who had moved back in surprise. “Everything all right? You can talk."

  "Everything's fine, Mistress,” he replied, leaning into the light touch of her hand to his hair. She had asked him to let it grow longer in the past few months, and it now curled around her fingers.

  Next to her, Keller chuckled. “Congratulations. I'd never managed to teach him to be quiet, but it looks like you did. I wonder how much you had to beat him before the lesson sunk in."

  "Surprisingly little,” she replied, her voice cold as a winter draft. “He responds better to positive reinforcement."

  "Does he, now?"

  Ray couldn't see Keller's face, but he could hear the forced smile in his voice. He wasn't happy, far from it, and Ray was almost surprised to realize that the prospect of his Sire being upset did not fill him with dread or anticipation. All he felt was contentment at Mistress Red's continued soothing touch.

  "I'll have to try that, sometime,” Keller said as though musing aloud.

  "I don't think you will,” Mistress Red replied at once, her tone pleasant yet hard as steel. “Not anytime soon, at least."

  Keller chuckled. “You think so? You don't know who I am."

  For just a second, her fingers tightened in Ray's hair, tugging more roughly than he was accustomed to. When he glanced at her, her eyes were on him, her face inscrutable.

  "I have a pretty good idea who you are,” she answered Keller, her eyes remaining on Ray the entire time. “You're the one who made him who he is. Who trained him. I guess I should thank you for that. But you're also the one who left him. You can't just come back and expect he'll fall back in step behind you."

  "Of course he will.” Keller got to his feet and remained standing in front of them. “He's my Childe. Stand, Ray. Come with me."

/>   Her hand left Ray's hair suddenly, and he gave her a questioning look that, at any other time, would have earned him a reprimand at the very least. She smiled faintly, however, and bent down to whisper to him.

  "I can guess how much he means to you,” she said, holding his gaze. “He's your Sire. He'll live as long as you will and be there for you much longer than I will be able to. If you want to leave—"

  He didn't let her finish. He didn't need to. “No."

  She pulled back and stood, disapproval etched on her face even as her eyes sparkled with pleasure.

  "Speaking out of turn, love. And you don't get to tell me no. Let's get home and see what other lessons you forgot."

  She walked by Ray, and he stood to follow her, smiling. His Sire was already out of his mind.

  The End

  About the Author:

  Kallysten is a French citizen whose most exciting accomplishment to date was to cross a few thousand miles and an ocean to pursue (and catch!) the love of her life. She has been writing for almost fifteen years, and always enjoyed sharing her stories and listening to the readers’ reactions. After playing with science fiction, short stories, poetry and fanfiction, she is now trying her hand, heart and words at paranormal romance novels.

  To see her other novels, visit:

  original.kallysten.net

  Other story in the Special Enforcers series available at Alinar Publishing:

  CheckMate

  Lilia is a vampire; Vincent hunts vampires. They've each sworn to kill the other, and have battled many times without either of them winning. But when a spell gone wrong links them through bonds of shared blood and sex, the game stops abruptly and with no clear winner.

  Trying to stay alive, they learn to guard each other's back against old and new enemies alike. The game takes a new turn as the memories of what they shared under the spell become too hard to ignore and they succumb to lust—or could it be more than that?

  www.alinarpublishing.com