Blayne wasn't really surprised that Kya Sundown lived in a mansion. The woman came from money. Money she'd inherited after both her parents had died in a car accident when she'd been sixteen.
Yeah, she'd done her homework on Kya. That's what you did when you suspected someone of murder.
She had to hand it to her though, the woman had taste. From the fancy foyer all the way to the plush waiting room that all but screamed class, Blayne had walked behind the butler that had been courteous yet disdainful at the same time.
She didn't give a shit. She'd come here to get a closer glimpse into Kya's life and hopefully piece the missing pieces that would make her case together. At least that's what she kept telling herself.
The truth was that she'd come here without a warrant or notifying her superiors. It was a risk that might compromise her case but she hadn't been able to shake off her frustration. Of course where Kya was concerned "frustration" was a word that often came to mind; Blayne just couldn't figure her out. All the evidence pointed to someone who was guilty of not one but many murders. The woman Blayne saw when she read the files on Kya's life was all but an angel. A philanthropist who wasn't content to just organize galas and stuff herself with caviar and champagne in the name of the poor who suffered in the world like most of Caldwell's elite. Kya spent most of her time rebuilding houses right beside victims of natural disasters all over the world.
But then psychopaths were ever deceiving, weren't they? Blayne reflected as she looked up at the saber that must have been older than dirt and had probably cost a fortune. It sat atop a mantle in a glass case.
"Miss Sundown is busy downstairs but she invites you to join you her. If you wish to do so, of course." The butler snapped her out of her thoughts; there was a gleam in the butler's beady dark eyes as he spoke.
"I'll join her." She'd drove an hour under the heavy rain to speak with the woman and a few stairs weren't going to dissuade her.
Blayne quietly followed the old man down a hall with priceless paintings hung on the wall, through a five star kitchen and all the way down spiraling steps that seemed never ending.
It was darker than the upper level. There was a strange archaic feel to the place. The limestone walls were lined with bronze chandeliers that held thick candles.
Blayne heard muffled sounds that nevertheless echoed. It sounded like a woman was talking but there was no reply. At least that's what it seemed like at first but then they finally reached the basement and... all Blayne could do was stare.
Rows upon rows of whips, crops, canes, restraints and a whole lot of other things Blayne couldn't identify lined the walls. There was a mahogany cross in the shape of an X against the far wall. What looked to be a gynecologist's table sat a few feet from it. And on the opposite side was the reason she'd come here in the first place.
Kya sat atop a man, straddling his face. Blayne couldn't get a clear look at his face since it was hidden by Kya's thighs. She was naked, the soft orange glow of the candlelight reflecting off of her olive skin. Her breasts that were as buxom as they were gravity-defying bounced as she rode the man. Her flat stomach was muscular but not masculine. Her mass of raven black hair fell freely down her shoulders. A small, daring smile was playing over the woman's lips. As if she was daring Blayne to freak out.
But she was damned if she'd give Kya the satisfaction. "Miss Sundown." She said by way of greeting. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
Kya smiled, her hands reaching up to tweak her erect nipples. "No at all, Detective Smith. Allow me to introduce my slave. Mark say hi to the good Detective." She raised her herself up and the man came out sputtering but she grabbed his hair and yanked it roughly.
Ice blue eyes met Blayne but that wasn't the object of her attention. What drew her eyes was the coat of wetness that covered his entire face. It gleamed in the candlelight making Blayne wonder what it would taste like.
Wait what? Where had that come from?
The Detective shook herself mentally as a loud slap sounded. Kya had just slapped her "slave". "I said say hello."
"Hello." The soft whisper came from the man that could have easily overpowered Kya but just lay there, submissive.
"He's shy." Kya smiled and hopped off of the cot they'd been on. And she was even more beautiful as she stood. Her body was toned to perfection, her mound completely shaven. "On your knees." She issued the order without taking her calculating, hazel eyes off of Blayne.
The man scrambled, practically falling off the cot to comply.
He kneeled, his head bowed in front of Kya. From her perspective, Blayne could see the ripped backside that made her mouth water almost as much as Kya's body did. "Tell me. Detective, would you rather I fuck his ass or that I tie him up and whip him until he begs for mercy?"
It was right at the tip of her tongue to say "fuck his ass" but she chalked that up to the fact that this whole place, Mark and even Kya herself put her out of balance. "I'm here to ask you a few questions."
