DevilsBoudoirSeriesSecretLove Read online

  Devil ’ s Boudoir Series

  Secret Love

  By Robin McKnight

  Published by Horny Devil Publishing

  Copyright 2013 Robin McKnight

  ISBN 978-1-62518-069-8

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Devil ’ s Boudoir Series: Secret Love Copyright © 2013 Robin McKnight Edited by Frank Lee, Cynthia Brummett-Lawyer, and Amberline Vincant

  Cover art by Dee Allen (www.deeallencoverart.com) Electronic book publication

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Horny Devil Publishing LLC, P.O. Box 2508, Palm City, FL 34991.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. ( http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/ ). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Chapter One

  Straightening the perfectly tailored lines of his suit jacket, he closed the door with a soft snick as he entered his office. Black velvet curtains covered the window, leaving only the soft glow of a few candles and lamps lighting the room. A large, dark cherry-stained, wooden desk sat in the middle of the room. Modern elegance mixed with a dark opulence defined the room ’s décor, as well as Myles’ own style . Fabrics and tapestries carryied shades of black, white, and gray; supple leather sofas, thick, plush carpeting, polished silver candle sticks and clean lines everywhere. Running his hand through his dark hair, he walked across the room turning toward his desk. Having a muscular athletic build he took great pride in keeping up with, his muscles were still sore from the morning’s trip to the gym, but one would never have noticed by the graceful ease with which he moved. Taking a peek at the calendar atop his desk, he ran over the day ’s tasks in his mind before his thoughts began to wander.

  Sitting behind his desk, Myles D’Kent looked down at the picture in his hand. Waist length red spirals draped over creamy skin, impossibly bright blue eyes sparkled with temptation and desire through the glass of the frame. Arianna Marshall had been in his life for less than six months, and she already consumed every thought, every fantasy, and every minute of every day for him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake her . She was hardwired into every fiber of his being after such a short time, and he’d never felt anything like it.

  As the city’s best-known Dominant and the owner of the most popular BDSM club, The Iron Cuff, Myles had had his pick of women with submissive tendencies. He’d sampled most of them, but none of them had struck him the way Arianna had. Despite his dalliances with a number of women, there’d been only one significant woman in his life before Arianna . T hat hadn’t ended well . It was more like a colossal cluster-fuck of epic proportions. His marriage had been good at the beginning, but quickly degenerated into an emasculating mess. Myles had never thought of himself as a Dom, or even known much about the BDSM lifestyle until his marriage collapsed. No sex, no affection, no love, he was no more than a pay check and a handyman to Sheila, being walked over and constantly berated. When Sheila started sleeping with the pool boy and expected him to just accept it, Myles had had enough and filed for divorce. Somewhere deep inside, he’d expected Sheila to chase after him, beg him not to go, but all she’d said was, “I never really loved you anyway.”

  After that, Myles went looking for anything that would give him control over his life, and by accident, he’d stumbled across BDSM through an old friend. It gave him control and a sense of belonging in his life, and he ha dn’t looked back since . He was one hell of a Dom, but he wasn’t as skilled with matters of the heart. In fact, at the first hint of anything more than sexual gratification these days, he ran as far and as fast as he could in the other direction. For him , dominating was about trust, but it wasn’t about love. Love had bitten him in the ass once, and he was never going back to living that way again. So he hid behind his role as a dominant and the owner of a club, making it unbelievably clear to every woman he took to his bed that there was to be no romantic attachment. That policy had served him well for years. Until his red-haired siren stepped into the club and into his heart.

  He’d known from the very second she a ppeared in the foyer of The Iron Cuff that she was his other half; the one his hopelessly romantic mother had always told him was out there somewhere. The curve of her body, the way her hair shone in the dim candlelight of the club, every inch of her creamy, pale skin that seemed to glow had called to him. And she’d been dressed to kill. An unconscionably tight green corset with a black lace overlay had been laced tightly to accentuate her curves. A tiny leather mini with a slit up the thigh danced when she walked and gave just a hint of bare soft skin where panties should have been. Garters peeked from beneath the leather skirt; black, sheer, seamed tights drew attention to legs that seemed to go on for days, and longer when you noticed how she balanced atop insanely high black stilettoes. There wasn’t a man alive who wouldn’t have fallen all over himself trying to earn her affection that night.

  Despite knowing in his soul that she was his heart’s perfect match, he’d given her the same line he gave every woman who crossed the threshold into his room — no strings attached, no romance, nothing permanent. For the first time in his life, it had hurt like a bitch to say the words, but rules were rules, and he wouldn’t risk having something wonderful for only a short time before it slipped away. An experienced submissive, Arianna had only nodded with her head down that night and whispered, “Yes, S ir. If that is your command, then that is how it shall be, and I will take only as much as you give and be satisfied.”

  God, he could still hear the words in his head crystal clear and remembered how much in that very moment he’d wanted to give her the world. Instead, he’d given her one night, the next, and the next . But he’d never given her more than what her body needed, and he’d certainly never given her his heart. No, that he didn’t have to give . She’d stolen it the moment he saw her, and he knew he’d never get it back . Six months later, he’d still never told her how he felt , and although he’d managed to remain wonderful friends with the subs before her, when Arianna left his bed for that of another, he would never be the same. Friendship would be out of the question. He realized that first night why his first marriage had fallen apart. Sheila wasn’t meant to be his, but Arianna was . Arianna seemed to be perfectly content with the status of their relationship, whatever it was, and he had no need to rock the boat and risk her leaving one minute too soon. Never once had she asked him for more, and she’d never hinted that she felt about him the way he felt for her. So, they continued each night the way they always had; the way he’d convinced himself it needed to be. Dominating and submitting physically, but never more than that. The only problem was it wasn’t enough for Myles anymore . He’d broken his own rule and fallen in love with her; he was way in over his head. What he was going to do about it, though, he had no idea.

  Soft knocking at the door derailed his train of thought as he looked up toward the double mahogany doors that entered into his office suite.<
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  “Myles ? This came for you. It was delivered to the bar upstairs.” A small, sprite-like woman with brown hair in a bouncy ponytail and deep brown eyes entered his room and practically skipped to his desk. Molly was the only really good thing he’d ever done . A dear friend, but also his bar manager for the club. She was barely into her twenties when he’d found her on the street corner selling her body to feed her little brother after their mother’s sudden death . Molly reminded him more of a kid sister than anything else, and he’d never questioned his decision to take them both in. Rylie was only ten, a big burden for Molly, but she bore it with grace and took very good care of him. Myles gave her a job managing his bar, helped her get custody of Rylie, and rented them an apartment until Molly could get on her feet. They were family, and since he never intended to fall in love again or start a family of his own, they were the only one he would ever have.

  “Thanks , Molly. Can we push the business meeting back an hour today? I’ve got to get some things taken care o f before I can look at numbers. ” The brown-eyed little sister he never had nodded, but the look on her face gave away the fact that she suspected there was more to it than he was just busy. For such a young girl, she had a good head on her shoulders and could always read people, even when they tried to hide something. Closing his eyes, scrubbing a tough hand over his face, he looked back at the picture on his desk and traced the outline of the woman there; remembering the way her body felt in his hands like it was made just for him and no one else. Shaking himself, he set the picture in a drawer as if it would do any good to hide it. She was part of him, had been from the beginning, maybe even since before either of them were born, but if he kept obsessing over the way he felt about her, he’d make an ass of himself when she came by the club. Besides, the beautifully assembled envelope in front of him required his immediate attention. Pulling on a gold satin ribbon, the black envelope fell open. Inside was a stunning, gold-filigree embossed card that made him grin from ear to ear.

  Mr. Evan Daniels and Miss Rissa Trent humbly request your presence at their collaring ceremony and wedding this weekend. The wedding to be held at St. Anne’s Cathedral at two o’clock in the afternoon on Saturday, followed by a come-and-go reception in the church fellowship hall. The collaring ceremony will be held at ten o’clock in the evening at The Devil’s Boudoir . Please RSVP as soon as possible to confirm your attendance, and please be sure to include the name of your plus one.

  “ Well, well, well , looks like lil’ Reeses is doing just fine.” Myles had been the one to bring Rissa into the world of BDSM and initially introduced her to Evan. To see the two of them now collared and married would be something he wouldn’t miss for the world . Aside from Rylie and Molly, there were no two other people he cared more for in this world than Rissa and Evan. Except Arianna. His eyes drifted to the bottom of the card. Plus one. It’d been so long since he had a plus one, and while he desperately ached to have Arianna at his side, a collaring was incredibly emotional to witness and couldn’t be experienced with just anybody . Then again, Arianna wasn’t just anybody, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that she was.

  Chapter Two

  Arianna sat in her car parked outside of The Iron Cuff and looked at herself in the mirror, mentally scolding herself for even being there. Myles D’Kent was a Dom . Not HER Dom, just a Dom. That was the way he wanted it, and she’d agreed the night they met that he would never be more than just a Dom because she was foolish and desperate and a horny, hormonal mess who needed to orgasm as badly as she needed her next breath. It w ouldn’t have been so bad if that breath hadn’t been the same one he’d stolen the moment she laid eyes on him . When she’d first moved to town, leaving everything she knew behind, the lifestyle was all she had. Finding a club with a fantastic reputation in a new place had been her lifeline. It’d helped that the owner had a reputation for being one of the best — most honest Doms in the scene, and rumor had it, he was gorgeous too.

  Tall, dark, and handsome didn’t begin to describe Myles . He stood about six foot two and was covered in layers of thick, well-tanned and toned muscle. His dark black hair was short, always perfectly faded and trimmed, and his dark brown eyes were like deep pools a girl could get lost in for hours. A perfectly groomed goatee made him look incredibly refined, and the curve of the thick erection she’d seen through the thin slacks he wore that night hadn’t gone unnoticed or unappreciated either . But something else about that man had reached out and grabbed her, and she’d have agreed to anything to have just one night with him. One night — who was she kidding? She would never be satisfied with one night with that man.

  Six months later she had been with him almost every night, and she could still remembe r exactly how he’d made her body and soul soar that first time. The way he’d played and plied her body to wring every ounce of body rocking, earth shattering pleasure out of her. Mere memories of that night made her skin tingle and burn with desire and anticipation again. She’d been foolish to think it was just the sex that brought her back here night after night — even more so to believe he’d ever feel about her the way she did about him. G iven her current situation, it wasn’t just foolish to be here rig ht now, it was downright stupid. Things were different now, though. Everything about Arianna’s world had changed, and she could never tell Myles. The last thing she needed was to be here, feeding this impossible affection she had for him, but the idea of missing just one moment with him hurt more than anything she’d ever felt before . In her heart, she knew she would have to just quit him cold turkey, but every morning she woke up telling herself it was time to say goodbye, and every night she wound up back in this parking lot, trying to convince herself that one more night in his capable arms couldn’t hurt .

  “Last time, Annie, make it count.” Another kick in the gut that made her heart hurt. Nobody else had ever called her Annie but Myles, and she adored the nickname. Arianna had been her musician father’s choice, and he’d called her Aria for short . She liked Annie much better; whether it was because it was less high-brow than Aria or because of the way it sounded on Myles’ lips, she wasn’t sure . But she loved it and would treasure the times she heard him say it. Checking her makeup one more time in the mirror, she grabbed her bag and adjusted the seam on the back of her tights. Her coat pulled tightly around what there was of her outfit, she stepped out into the cold and quickly into The Iron Cuff for one more — one last night with the man she’d fallen in love with but could never tell and could never see again .

  Arianna was earlier than usual, but if tonight had to be her last night with him, she wanted it to last as long as possible. Massive, ornately engraved double doors opened before her as she stepped inside The Iron Cuff. The sound of her heels clicking against the perfectly polished marble flooring was drowned out by the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. Every detail was given the utmost attention; so much so, it was easy to see Myles in each part of the club: the soft flickering glow of candlelight instead of the artificial ultraviolet lighting of bulbs, low instrumental music backed by the steady pounding of tribal drums akin to one’s heartbeat, black-textured wall paper balanced with the smooth flooring — not a single detail left to chance. Some people may have felt threatened by the intensity of the club, but not Arianna. Intimidation was the last thing she felt. Usually, when the doors closed behind her, it was like being enveloped in peace — calming, secure, and stable. The club was one of the only places she felt grounded. Tonight, though, that grounded feeling was tinged with anxiety and a hint of sadness. Nodding to the unbelievably large security guard as he closed the door behind her, she walked further into the depth of the club, leaving reality locked behind her. Walking over to the bar, she smiled and tried to push the growing lump of sorrow back down so she could enjoy what time she had left with the man she loved.

  “Hey Molly, is Myles in his office?” The bouncy brunette had a smile that beamed like a beacon, and she was stunningly beautiful and sweet as could be. She like
d Molly; they had become friends over the last several months. She would miss her too when she left that night.

  “No, he stepped into the conference room to meet with some potential new members. He should be done soon though, then we have our meeting over the numbers and the budget, but if you want to wait in his office, I doubt he’d mind.” She went back to scribbling notes on her inventory checklist, and Arianna laughed at the near OCD intensity she poured into counting and recounting each item. Turning from the bar, she took a deep breath before heading away from the large main room that housed the bar and lounge toward the hallway at the back of the club. Private rooms lined the walls of the main room. She ran her fingers over the banister of a long winding staircase that led to the second floor. The rooms on the upper floor had no privacy, just large picture windows that faced the main room. More than once she’d found herself lost in the scenes that played out between master and sub in those windows; the exchange of power nearly tangible. Shaking her head, she continued to the back of the club and down the long hall. Tiptoeing past the conference room, she pushed open the heavy door that led into Myles ’ office at the very end of the hall.

  Hanging her coat neatly on the rack, she moved behind his desk and knelt at the right side of his chair. Her red ringlets were pulled into a high bumped ponytail and tied with a leather strap. A tight, cupless, black leather corset with red lace inserts and a deep red ribbon for lacings cinched in at the waist. No panties; just the way he preferred. Garters stretched from the bottom of the corset and snapped to her thigh-high tights. On her knees, she rested back on black and red stilettos that matched her corset and lowered her head. She was already desperately wet in expectation, and her nipples ached to be kneaded and clamped. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and focused on that night. She’d have the rest of her life to mourn what could have been; that night she would savor. That night was for making memories that would carry her through a lifetime. In her heart, she knew it would never be enough, but it would have to be.