Diablo Blanco Club: Rite of First Claim Read Online Free Page A

toward him, desperation in her tone. The way her body arched into his touch, rubbing against the sweat-dampened skin of his chest, the scent of her arousal filling the darkened room heightened his excitement and fed the dominant within him.
    “Not good enough, baby,” he taunted. His teeth nipped her lips. In the pitch-blackness of the room, he could barely make out the glitter of her eyes, but he wasn’t about to dispel the magic surrounding them by turning on a light.
    “Oh God, Mike, please! I need it!” Her words caught on a sob.
    “Say it, Lys. Tell me what you want . Who you want.” He knew his voice was cold, harsh, but he needed the words. Had to hear her finally say it. Admit to what she wanted. What she’d denied for eight years but he’d always known.
    “You, Mike. I want you to fuck me.” The anger and bitterness in her admission turned the words from a plea to a demand. Shifting the power from him to her.
    But not for long.
    Mike shook his head at the memory. If there was one thing he’d learned in the last four years, it was never to underestimate a Lawrence woman. And never to anticipate what Lyssa Lawrence would do in any given situation. If she’d finally reached the point of acknowledging her interest in the Dominant/submissive lifestyle, he wasn’t about to let another man step into the role he’d been awaiting since the day they’d met. There was no damned way he was allowing another dom to poach the woman he’d claimed four years earlier.
    “But Kringle?” He shook his head at the idea. “He’s younger than I am.” And considering how vocal she’d always been about the six years separating them, he doubted Lyssa would seriously want a man still younger.
    If Lyssa thought for one second she could walk away from him, she had a few lessons to learn. This time—a growl of exasperation rolled in his throat—a quick shag in the supply closet or against the wall in the foyer of her home wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy him.
    Not nearly enough.
    A grin twitched the corners of his mouth. “There’s no walking away this time. No hiding. No denying her master.”
    Mike reached for the tuxedo trousers and began to dress.
    * * *
    Lyssa watched the slow crawl of the clock’s hands as they inched toward midnight. She sipped another glass of ginger ale and allowed her gaze to meet and hold Dayton Kringle’s. The deep blue of his eyes sent a zing of interest through her chest, but the heat fizzled before it could go below her belly button.
    I can do this, damn it. I know I can.
    Her window of opportunity was dwindling fast. Everything she wanted was riding on this single night. It had to succeed. She needed to succeed.
    When her mind conjured images of Mike Halsey’s dark hair and eyes, the sharp stab of pain made her gasp. No, a child who carried Mike’s coloring but wasn’t his was likely to create too many questions from her sister and Bryce. Not to mention stir up dreams of what might have been if… No, Lyssa determined. It was gray-haired, blue-eyed Dayton Kringle she needed.
    Now all she had to do was convince him to select her when the clock struck midnight. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Her heart tripped, and the palms of her hands grew damp, making it risky to keep hold of her half-empty glass of soda. After swallowing a sip, she set it down on the small table beside the sofa she shared with Dayton and tried to pay attention to what he was saying.
    Since she’d approached him, they’d chatted about various things relating to their respective businesses, movies they’d seen, authors they’d read. If it hadn’t been for the setting, Lyssa could have likened the conversation to the banal subjects discussed on a first date.
    An hour. Just sixty minutes . The litany repeated in her head as she counted down the time before the dominants selected their submissives and the parties would move into private rooms upstairs or negotiations began for public performances.
    The