Disgraceful: A Disgrace Trilogy Novel Book Two (The Disgrace Trilogy 2), page 1
Disgraceful
A Disgrace Trilogy Novel - Book 2
Copyright © 2016 Dee Palmer
Published by Dee Palmer
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in an form, including but not limited to electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either products of the authors imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase to, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it to the seller and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Editor : Ekatatina Sayanova at Red Quill Editing Services
Cover: Judi Perkins at Concierge Literary Promotions
Formatting: Champagne Formats
Warning: ADULT CONTENT 18+ This story is on the filthy side of smut and isn’t suitable for those who don’t enjoy graphic descriptions that are erotic in nature, but for those that do, enjoy ;)
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First In the Choices Trilogy (But no cliffy…So can be read as a standalone:))
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Other Books by Dee
About The Author
Disgrace
Prologue
One
Two
Tess…
Yes, I am dedicating this book to my beautiful dog…
She was the heart of our family, she was loved, so very much, every single day.
and I will miss her
Every Single Day.
He proposed. I can’t believe he proposed. I twist the ring that feels oddly comfortable on my engagement finger. As a new piece of jewelry to me, it shouldn’t feel so good, but it does. It’s perfect. I exhale a deep breath and stroke the smooth surface, mesmerised by the early morning light catching the stone, reflecting brilliant shards of light across the room. He does like me in diamonds. The largest Asscher cut stone I have seen outside of a Bond Street jeweler is surrounded by a halo of baguette diamonds and set in an Art Deco pattern on a platinum band. It’s stunningly beautiful, and I can’t imagine how much it must have cost. I lift my hand to the equally expensive collar that I haven’t removed since I made a show of putting it on at the club last night. What did I do to deserve all this? What did I do to deserve Jason?
He is curled up on his side facing my empty space. The shadow that darkens one side of the room covers his face. I couldn’t sleep but have been watching him from the chair at the end of his bed—our bed, I suppose, since I moved in a few months ago, and definitely our bed now that I am going to be his wife. The covers have dropped or more likely were pushed down to his hips, more shadow hiding more deliciousness. We both sleep naked, him because he gets so hot, and me because every night he peels off each attempt I have made at covering up. I tried to argue that I don’t generate heat like he does, and I need my PJs to ward off the cold, but there really is no need. All the warmth I desire is afforded by his strong arms and firm body holding me each night, or at least until I wriggle free.
“Penny for them?” His deep voice makes me jump. His voice has an edge of sleep-induced gravelly roughness, and his stretch and groan are more reflective of his semiconscious state.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.” I keep my voice quiet, which is ridiculous now that we are both awake.
“Your body isn’t next to mine, and that always wakes me.” He shifts so his torso is now bathed in the silvery glow of the moonlight through the gap in the curtains. His face is pale, but his eyes look sharp and clear. His gaze is searching.
“Not straight away, though. I’ve been sitting here for a while.” I tuck my toes under the edge of the throw, which I have draped over my shoulders.
“And I’ve been awake for a while.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” His lips curl in a sexy grin.
“You’ve been watching me this whole time?” A pleasant ache starts to tingle between my legs at the thought.
“Yes.” His tone is as flat as his answers are brief.
“Why?”
“Because I can.” His smile spreads, and I feel a warm glow ignite deep in my chest. He curls his finger, and I move without hesitation, not from his silent command but from the innate draw I feel to him. I crawl onto the bed, and he sits up so I am kneeling beside him. He rests his back against the headboard. “Now tell me what has you a million miles away when you should only ever be right here.” He takes my hand and places it on his firm chest. His skin is smooth and warm, and I can feel the strong, heavy beat of his heart beneath my fingertips.
“You proposed.” My throat feels dry, and I swallow loudly in the quiet of the room.
“I did.” His hand covers mine and holds it firmly. “And you said yes.”
“I did.” My voice waivers, and I try to avert my eyes, but he dips to maintain the contact.
“You did. Is that cold feet already, Sam?” His tone is light, but his expression is anything but jovial. His thick brows knit together with concern.
“Did you really mean it, Jason?” I meet his gaze and search for any signs of regret. There are none, and his words only confirm his feelings.
“You think for some reason I would ask the question if I didn’t?”
“But marriage, Jason? That’s a huge commitment. I believe marriage is for life,” I tell him in all earnestness.
“I would hope you did.” He laughs lightly, but my smile is tentative at best.
“But for us, Jason…is that even viable?” I can’t hide the anxiousness in my voice. I didn’t realize how much I had been holding in until I started to talk. Now all I can feel is a huge wave of uncertainty and a sense of my own doom. I don’t deserve this.
“I don’t understand.” His voice is calm and filled with concern.
“Just four weeks ago we were having a four-way with your brother and my best friend, and you’re going to be happy with a normal missionary marriage until death do us part?” I squeal at the sudden speed with which he has pushed me flat and pinned me to the bed with his full weight. His legs wedge between and ease mine wide. I can feel his instant heat and solid erection at my entrance. A gentle roll of my hips makes us both moan, but he clears his throat with a sharp cough.
“Sam, I want you as my wife. I have never wanted anyone the way I want you. I never saw myself getting married, but being with you, I can’t see that there is any other life for me.” His lips cover mine in a gentle, possessive kiss, sweet and soft. “We don’t have to do this tomorrow. For now, I’ll take you any way I can, but understand this…I want you as my wife. Our happy ever after is inevitable, and the marriage bit is probably the only normal thing about our relationship.” Before I can utter a single word, his lips consume mine once more, this time with an unhindered urgency that steals my breath. His tongue traces the seam of my lips and dives inside, swirling and drawing my bottom lip into his mouth. He sucks hard, and I can feel the painful pull of blood into the full swollen tissue before he lets it pop from his mouth. “We have our own normal, beautiful, and our marriage will be everything we want it to be. And very much until death do us part.” His smile is a perfect mix of striking and salacious. I find I am just as speechless at his perfect words as I am breathless from his weight. “And there is nothing wrong with missionary.” He grinds his hips. I feel his thick cock spread my soaking silken folds, and I get that deep tingle of anticipation. With one deep, firm thrust, he sinks inside me—hard. He is so unbelievably solid and impressively large that he hits the very end of me and makes me gasp. He pulls back, a wicked grin etched at the corners of his smile. “It’s a classic for a reason.” He pitches up on his elbows, but the majority of his weight covers my body. I close my eyes and relish the feeling. My muscles start to twitch around his cock as he holds himself firm and immobile. I open my eyes to meet his intense, fiery gaze.
“You are having doubts.” His voice is low and stern, but the gentle rotation of his hips is more than a little distracting to the seriousness of his statement.
“Mmm…that feels so good, Jason.” I sigh.
“Yes, it does. You are having doubts.” He repeats both his statement and his heavenly hip action. I swallow thickly and watch as his eyes darken, and the tiny muscles inside me begin rippling like crazy along his erection.
“Not about us…not about how I feel about you.” The pitch in my voice is remarkably level, but the words are breathy and strained.
“Good.” He pushes deeper, and I lose all cognisant thought until he draws back just a little. “That is all that matters, Sam. Everything else is detail…we will deal with the detail together as husband and wife.” I had been gripping his taut shoulder muscles, and I slide my hands down his back and flex them wide to take a good grasp of his fine backside in each hand. The way his defined muscles contract under my hands with each thrust and drive is the sexiest fucking thing. I sink my nails into his skin to secure my hold.
“Some of those details are pretty fucking big, and we’ve not exactly sat down and discussed the future.” This feels so good, why the fuck am I bringing up this subject now?
“What details?” Oh God, he just grinds with the perfect pressure that makes my clit pulse like a needy bundle of aching nerves and it drives me crazy.
“Please, Jason.” I try to shift down and tilt to get a little bit more friction, just where I need him, but he sinks like a dead weight preventing any further movement on my part.
Stupid dumb ass, you deserved that, Sam. You couldn’t just wait and have this conversation in the morning?
“What details, Sam? What specifically about our future do you wish to discuss?” I can see the muscles in his jaw clench with effort, controlling his temper or his libido, I can’t quite tell. His face is stern and his voice is calm.
“I don’t want to discuss any of it now. Now, I just want to come,” I grind out through a fake and frustrated smile.
“And if you tell me what details, I might let you.” His tone is a perfect mix of lightly mocking and threatening.
I let out a defeated puff of air. His face is impassive, and he has now frozen all orgasm-inducing movement. I can’t exactly think straight, but I know him well enough to understand he is more than capable of keeping me hanging until he gets his answers.
“My house for one,” I call out.
“What about your house?” He raises a curious brow.
“Do I sell it? Am I living here permanently?” He chuckles, a deep throaty rumble I can feel in my chest and much lower.
“You’re getting riled over this? You’re adorable. Yes, you are living with me permanently. That’s what husbands and wives do; they live together. I couldn’t care less where that is—here or at your place is not important. Sell your house, or don’t; that’s your decision, beautiful.” He shifts a little, just enough to send a wave of tingles from my clit to every waiting nerve in my body. I stifle a whimper. “What else you got that’s troubling you?”
“Babies,” I blurt out, but my tone is more like an accusation.
“What about babies?” His words come out slower and with more caution. His brows pinch together to form a dark, almost-touching line.
“Well, we’ve never talked about them and that’s a pretty big detail to leave unmentioned, don’t you think?”
“I don’t want children, so it honestly didn’t cross my mind, but since it is a detail you have clearly considered, tell me, Sam, do you want children?” His tone is soft, but I feel like an ice blast has frozen my heart at his stark revelation.
“I…I don’t know…maybe one day.” I swallow the lump in my throat and try to push his heavy body away as I fight to take in my next breath.
“Hey, Sam, look at me.” His stern tone draws my gaze. My nose tingles, and I feel stupid and exposed that this has upset so. Of course, he wouldn’t want children. Too domesticated for someone like the kinky owner of London’s elite sex club, and certainly not with someone like me.
“It’s fine…I understand.” I dig my nails into his biceps to get him to move, but he doesn’t budge at all.
“You clearly don’t.” He arches a brow, and I can see his lips start to curl with amusement, which fires my blood with irritation, and I struggle like a wild animal to get free. He grabs my flailing arms and pins them high above my head. He pushes his hips harder onto mine, and I swear I can feel him swell inside me. “You’re making me painfully hard, Sam. It is very distracting, and we need to clear this up before it gets silly.”
“Silly?” I snap, my tone piqued. I’m incredulous at his flippancy. He narrows his eyes, and his dark stare makes me bite my tongue. He looks deadly serious.
“I have never wanted children, and that hasn’t changed. What has changed is you. You are my world, and I will do anything in my power to make you happy. If that means having a dozen children, then I will happily be your baby daddy.” All tension has left his face despite his serious tone. His smile is breathtakingly beautiful.
“Oh.” I mouth the word, because he’s once more rendered me speechless.
“Oh…happy now?” He nudges my nose with his.
“You won’t get bored?” I hate that the doubts just keep bubbling up.
“What?” He shakes his head a little.
“There aren’t many married members at the club, Jason. I don’t think it’s what normal couples do. I worry the whole domestic nature of marriage is going to be a huge turn off.” I try to shrug, but my arms are still stretched taut.
“Actually, there are several married members. And what have I said about our ‘normal’? We make our own rules, beautiful, and as long as you belong to me, nothing else matters.” He gazes at me for endless seconds that feel like hours. I didn’t realise I was holding so much tension, but his words wash over me and seep into my soul, making me a pliant, gooey mess.
He rolls his hips, and I can feel every inch of his considerable length slide in and out at a gloriously languid pace. His eyes darken and his brows crinkle with concentration.
“Any other details you want to discuss?” His deep voice drops an octave, and the roughness sends a tingle of shivers across my skin. I shake my head and tilt my hips at an inviting angle that makes him groan. “Words, Sam, I need to hear your words. I need to know you are happy.”
“I am, and in about five short moves, I will be euphoric.” He growls and drops his weight to stop me from moving against him.
“Sam.” His tone is reprimanding, but the last thing I want to do is extend this conversation.
“I am very happy, Jason. I have no other details to discuss other than I would very much like to finish what you started.” I try fruitlessly to grind a little pleasure from his body.
“You love me?” His question makes me stop. His deep chocolate eyes shine with flecks of gold, but there is hesitation in his voice that breaks my heart. I hope to god that I haven’t made him doubt that I do.
“With all my heart, Jason. I’m sorry, but I struggle to believe I deserve this happy ending. I can’t help looking for the catch.” I rush to try and explain my destructive doubts.
“No catch, beautiful…our happy ending is just a little different. It’s just you and me and our very own kinky ever after.”
“I like the sound of that.” I let out a sigh that is captured by his eager mouth over mine. His tongue takes possession, and we duel with sensual strokes and urgent kissing that leaves us both breathless. “Now, fuck me like you hate me.” I cry out when I manage to catch my breath. His eyes light, and his smile turns from warm to wicked in a flash.
“With pleasure.”
“Oh good god, Leon, what is that smell?” I instantly slap my hand to my nose when I step into the kitchen of my old apartment. The detritus on every surface looks days, possibly weeks old. Take out boxes and half-eaten meals congealed and decomposed on every plate I owned. Stacks of glasses…and is that a vase he has used for beer? “Jesus, Leon, I’m surprised someone hasn’t called environmental health.”
“Do you want a coffee?” Leon ignores my comment and runs his hand through his long dark hair. He does, at least, have the decency to look embarrassed.
“In what, Leon?” I wave my hand at the array of dirty cups.
“It’s six in the morning, Sam. I wasn’t expecting visitors.” He picks up one of the fresher dirty cups and starts to rinse it under the tap. I push him to the side, flick the tap to boiling hot, and squeeze a large dollop of washing liquid in the bowl already crammed to bursting. Once the bowl is full and soaking the dried-on, stained crockery, I open the cupboard and pick out a large black sack. I hand it to Leon with a scowl.
