A Price to Pay

  A PRICE TO PAY

  Club Twist Book Two

  Alice Raine

  Published by Accent Press Ltd 2018

  Octavo House

  West Bute Street

  Cardiff

  CF10 5LJ

  www.accentpress.co.uk

  Copyright © Alice Raine 2018

  The right of Alice Raine to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  The story contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of Accent Press Ltd.

  ISBN 9781786152589

  eISBN 9781786152596

  Printed and bound in Great Britain by Clays Ltd, Elcograf S.p.A

  For Leah Weatherall…

  see? I can spell your name correctly!

  Not only are you an amazing supporter of my books, but now my friend too.

  Thank you for everything you do! xx

  CHAPTER ONE

  Robyn

  ‘Move in with me, Robyn.’

  I was pressed against the wall in Oliver’s hallway with the man himself kissing me half to death and groping me in all the right places, and this was the time he chose to ask me to move in with him? I could barely breathe, let alone think straight about such a monumental topic.

  My man didn’t half choose his moments sometimes. Mind you, this wasn’t the first time he’d asked me. He’d brought the subject up multiple times since we’d been together, but being cautious, I’d decided we needed to let our relationship settle before such a big commitment.

  We were eight months into the relationship now, and I’d known him at least ten, which was fairly settled, wasn’t it? So really there was nothing holding me back. I’d had boyfriends before, but I’d never lived with any of them. Actually, I’d never even been on holiday with any of them, so I guess that was why this seemed like such a big step to me.

  Leaning back, I gazed up at Oliver’s determined expression and tried to draw in some steadying breaths and calm the dizzying lust that thrummed in my system. Jeez, when he’d pulled me into his arms five minutes ago and started kissing me I’d been expecting him to sweep me up and carry me to bed, not start a discussion about the future progress of our relationship. From my raised temperature and hammering heart my body was having just as much difficulty with the swift change in topic as my brain was.

  ‘Umm…’ I wasn’t sure what to say. I loved him more than I’d ever thought possible, and of course I wanted to share my life and a house with him, but there was still one small hurdle in the way. ‘You haven’t even met my parents yet, Oliver.’ As silly or traditional as it might sound, I wanted my parents to at least have been introduced to my boyfriend before we shacked up together.

  Oliver gave a casual shrug and raised a hand to rub his thumb gently across my flushed cheeks. ‘They know about me, though. And they know we’ve been together for eight months, too, so surely it’s just a natural next step?’

  Eight whole months of non-stop attention, romantic dates, and stupendous sex. I could hardly believe how quickly the time had flown by, but I was still just as much of a loved-up mess over this man as I had been at the start. ‘It is, but I’d still like them to meet you.’

  He smiled down at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way that always made my insides melt. ‘I’d like to meet them, too.’ He dropped a kiss on the tip of my nose which had me leaning forwards for more with a quiet moan. ‘Why don’t you invite them over this weekend? I’ll cook.’

  I raised my eyebrows at his lovely offer, and I grinned at the idea of Oliver dashing around the kitchen in an apron as he prepared a feast for my folks. Mind you, Oliver didn’t “dash”. His demeanour was pure power – everything he did was done in a calm, controlled manner, even cooking. It sometimes felt like he controlled the world, and not the other way around. ‘That way, if they don’t like me I can try and win them over with my fantastic culinary skills.’

  A gurgled laugh broke from my throat, and I looped my arms around his neck and trailed my fingers through the silky-soft hair at his nape. ‘They’ll love you.’

  Suddenly his smile dried up and his eyes narrowed as a brief flinch of concern tweaked his eyebrows. ‘Will they mind the age gap?’

  Shaking my head with certainty, I lowered a hand and stroked his chest reassuringly. ‘Nah, they know you’re older. They don’t care because they also know that I’m happy and crazily in love with you.’

  ‘Hmm, crazily in love with me. I rather like that description.’ Oliver’s smile returned with a vengeance as he gipped my hips and spun us around once in a dramatic dance move that had me yelping and clutching at him to avoid tripping over my own feet.

  ‘Saturday it is, then. Dinner and drinks with your parents at our house.’

  ‘OK.’ Our house. Blimey. That was going to take some getting used to. Snuggling into his chest, I let him get away with his assumption and instead absorbed the smell of the fresh cotton and the way it mingled with his aftershave and the delicious scent of his skin.

  He smelled amazing, was handsome as sin, a genius in the kitchen, a god between the sheets, and on top of all that, treated me like I was the most important person on the entire planet. I literally loved everything about this man.

  Oliver lowered his head and captured my lips in a kiss so filled with understanding and mutual adoration that I shivered in his arms and pulled him just a little closer.

  ‘God, I love how affected by me you are.’ He gave a thrust of his hips and I felt the solid heat of a building erection as he pressed it against my belly and my insides liquefied with need. ‘And the feeling is completely mutual. You affect me, Robyn, on so many levels. I love you so much.’ He captured my lips in a kiss which went from chaste to sinful in just a matter of seconds, our tongues meeting and tangling as we pressed ourselves as close as physically possible with clothes on.

  Oliver allowed the kiss to consume us for a minute or so, and then he pulled back, smiling ruefully as we both took ragged breaths and clung to each other for support. ‘And I can’t wait to live with you, so if we have dinner with your parents this weekend, will you agree to move in?’

  Trying not to let out a squeal of excitement, I nodded my response and gripped his biceps as my legs went wobbly from the enormity of it all. ‘Yes, I’d love to, Oliver.’ I was going to be living here in this gorgeous house with the man of my dreams.

  I almost couldn’t believe it was all real.

  What was real, though, was the insistent pressure of Oliver’s groin as it continued to throb and nudge against my stomach.

  ‘Maybe dress down a little bit, though,’ I murmured, fingering the soft silk of the waistcoat he was wearing over a pristine pale blue shirt. ‘I love your three-piece suits, but you can look a little intimidating in them.’ My dad was a jeans man through and through. He dressed up for weddings or funerals, but he’d definitely find Oliver and his Savile Row attire a bit over the top.

  Oliver’s eyes darkened wickedly, and then he lowered his lips beside my ear. ‘You like me when I’m a little intimidating, though, don’t you, Robyn?’ His breath tickled across my ear and my eyes fluttered shut as my arousal instantly reignited and soared through my body.

  ‘You can try to pretend otherwise, but I know that my domineering side is one of your favourites.’ He spoke with complete confidence, and he
was spot on, because it really was such a turn-on when he got all broody and masterful with me. A shudder ran through my entire body just thinking about it, and in response Oliver let out a wicked laugh and gathered me closer into his arms.

  Glancing up, I saw that he had a wicked twinkle in his eyes, too, as if me agreeing to move in with him had calmed his concerns and set his brain off on contemplating a much naughtier prospect. A prospect that I had been hoping for all along.

  ‘Speaking of my domineering side…’ He paused and gave my hips a squeeze. ‘It’s been a while since we’ve unleashed it, hasn’t it?’ he murmured, his tone dropping lower and becoming more authoritative with every word.

  Now that I came to think of it, it had. Oliver and I had mellowed into our relationship, and although his commanding personality meant he would never be completely separated from his need to be in control, we hadn’t actually done a proper scene for quite a while.

  ‘It has… Sir.’ I added his title as my way of giving him my consent to continue and his eyes sparkled with appreciation. I watched as he stood a little taller, his eyes blazing, and I swear I could almost see his brain ticking over as he considered exactly what he wanted to do to me. As much as it might surprise some people, I found the determined focus on his face just as much of a turn-on as any physical touch.

  ‘You look a little flushed, Robyn. Are you worked up? Hot under the collar, perhaps?’ Oliver commented mildly, teasing me.

  I was damp between my legs, my breath was still coming in panting gasps, and my body temperature was surely approaching that of someone with a high fever, so in short, yes, I was more than a tad worked up. As usual, he was playing it cool, so I decided that I would, too. Giving a shrug, I tried for a nonchalant expression as I replied. ‘A little, Sir.’

  His eyes twinkled with delight at the game we were playing, and then he stooped down and caught my right leg behind the knee. He lifted it so that when he stood up again my leg was almost wrapped around his waist. This was a far more intimate position; his throbbing shaft was now pressed against my core and my breath hitched in my throat as I looked up and caught sight of the heat in his expression.

  ‘Let’s see if we can ease that, then, shall we?’ Oliver’s eyes were locked with mine as he slowly ran his hand down over my boot-clad calf, and then back up my leg until he came to the exposed skin that sat between the bottom of my skirt and the top of my knee-high boot.

  ‘Hmmm. These boots.’ His fingers trailed down my leg again, and I watched as he bit down on his lower lip and let out a low groan. ‘I think you know they’re my weakness and wear them more nowadays just to tempt me.’

  I didn’t reply verbally, but my cheeks flushed with mild guilt, because his speculation was true – I did wear these boots more often now because I loved his reaction to them.

  Up until meeting Oliver I had favoured my battered old Converse and a pair of jeans. I’d been more of a “girl next door” type as opposed to one who dressed up to the nines, and I still was most days, but Oliver’s lusty response to me in knee-high boots, stockings and suspenders had made them a far more regular choice in my outfit range.

  ‘Did you know that visions of you, these boots, and a wall will always feature at the top of my fantasy fuck list?’ he asked. I did, but only because Oliver had told me rather explicitly that his favourite fantasy was fucking me against a wall hard and deep while I wore knee-high boots, stockings, and not much else. He’d also indulged in this scenario several times, and I had to say it now featured pretty damn high on my list of sexual fantasies, too.

  ‘I also have another fantasy involving these boots that we haven’t acted out yet,’ he informed me.

  My eyebrows rose in curiosity at his confession. ‘Really? What’s that?’

  He gave a light swat to my thigh and lowered his brow in disapproval, which prompted me to realise that we were at the start of a scene and I hadn’t used his title.

  ‘Sir.’ I added a flutter of my eyelashes to soften him and saw it instantly work as he flashed me a wink.

  ‘My other fantasy involves leather on leather,’ he replied cryptically, leaving me wondering what on earth he meant. ‘I think perhaps we’ll bring it to reality now. I’ll need my favourite toy to assist us. Wait right here, I won’t be a moment.’

  Oliver strode up the stairs, leaving me panting and curious. Leather on leather? His favourite toy? He had quite a collection in his cupboard upstairs, and my mind frantically ran through the options, trying to work out which he favoured most. Paddles? Spreader bars? Nipple clamps?

  Just as he was trotting back down the stairs it came to me. Leather on leather. His flogger. It was definitely his favoured toy, and the one he would reach for the most often in our scenes. He wanted to use the flogger on me while I was wearing the leather boots.

  I dropped my eyes to his right hand, and sure enough there it was. He held the brown leather handle in a loose-knuckled grip. Falling from the stem was the swathe of leather strips that had caused me so much pleasure since we’d purchased it. They’d caused a little pain, too, on occasion, but always just the right amount to heighten my arousal and increase the intensity of my orgasm.

  Out of all the sex toys available, this was his speciality, so much so that Oliver had a reputation at Club Twist for being a master with those little leather strands, and goddamn had he lived up to it on the occasions we’d used it together.

  A shudder of excitement ran through me, but it was accompanied with a tug of frustration, because as amazing as he was at using the flogger to make me come, Oliver had also proven that he could play a wicked game with it and keep me hanging on the edge until I was desperate and begging for him to let me climax.

  Which would it be tonight?

  He paused in front of me, slid a hand around my waist, and then silently led me into the dining room where he turned the lights on and dimmed them so the room was swathed in the sensation of candlelight. We stopped inside the doorway, both glancing around the large room and taking in the walnut table, soft chaise longue in the corner, and huge windows looking out onto the garden.

  ‘I’m not sure we’ve christened this room in our house yet,’ Oliver murmured hotly.

  Our house. Once again, the words made my heart give a thrilled leap. We had christened this room, multiple times, and from the grin on his face he damn well knew it, too; we’d had sex on the small sofa in the corner, a quickie on the rug by the fireplace, and sex against the wall just inside the door, but I certainly wasn’t going to stop him if he had his mind set on it.

  ‘Well, not the dining table, anyway,’ he clarified with a wink. The table? Well, that certainly was a new location.

  ‘Perhaps we should rectify that, hmm?’ He lowered his mouth to trail kisses along my jawline as he moved his free hand to my other leg and began to lift my skirt up inch by inch.

  ‘I think we definitely should, Sir,’ I agreed breathily.

  One of his hands caught in my hair, giving a tug that was just hard enough to send a thrill of pleasure-laced pain across my scalp and skittering down my body, and then Oliver used his grip to angle my head as he kissed and licked at my neck and pulse point until I was heavy with desire and almost sagging in his arms.

  He let go of my hair, slid his hand back down to my waist, and dropped to his knees before me. He made quick work of the zip of my skirt and groaned as he discovered the suspender belt below, and the fact that I wasn’t wearing any knickers.

  ‘You’re knicker-less? Dios, Robyn.’ His words were muffled, because he’d buried his face in the soft skin at the top of my legs and was now alternating between kissing me and tugging at the suspender belt with his teeth like a man well and truly on a mission.

  Oliver sucked hard on the tender skin at the top of my thigh and paused briefly to look up at me. ‘Undress. Top half only,’ he added with a smirk. ‘The boots and suspenders can stay.’

  My fingers were shaking, but I complied immediately, pulling my blouse over my head and
then dispensing with my bra in record speed. I chucked it aside where it flew through the air and hooked over the brass fire pokers.

  Leaning back, Oliver glanced up at me. ‘Present yourself for me. On the table,’ he instructed quietly, jerking his chin towards the huge dining table.

  On the table? That might be a bit of a challenge, seeing as I was basically naked apart from my heeled boots and the stockings. As if reading my thoughts, he smiled.

  ‘Don’t worry, it’s solid. You won’t fall.’ He stood up and held out a hand to me and helped me step onto a chair and up onto the table top. He was right, it didn’t wobble or move at all under me, and I quickly set about presenting myself to him. I dropped to my knees at the edge closest to him, carefully folding my boot-clad legs below me. I kept my back straight but eyes averted as I placed my hands on my thighs before parting my knees wider, just as he liked.

  A heavy moment of silence passed between us where I was desperate to raise my eyes and see if he looked pleased or not with my display, but then I got my answer in the form of a lusty growl. ‘You really are the ultimate temptation, Robyn.’

  Oliver placed his hands on my thighs and ran them down to my knees before hooking his fingers into the tops of my boots and using his grip to drag me forwards to the very edge of the table. His hands then took the trip up and down my legs again before he dropped to a crouch before me. As he lowered himself, my averted eyes met his and I watched in delight as he grinned up at me.

  Remaining crouched there, he kept his gaze locked with mine and then slowly slid his hands up my thighs, over my stomach, and across my ribs until he reached my breasts. His arms were almost at full stretch now, but he still managed to expertly tease my nipples into solid peaks and cause me to moan loudly.

  Continuing with rolling and tweaking my nipples, he blinked and lowered his eyes to my knicker-less pussy, and with a growl leaned close to press his lips against my clit in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. He used his chin to nudge at my thighs in a silent command to widen my legs, and so, on a pleasured whimper, I complied, leaning back onto my palms to aid my balance and make sure I didn’t topple off the table from the pleasure of it all.