by Sienna Snow
Never had a scene affected me this way. I closed my eyes for a brief second and released a deep breath.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“Are you sure you only want to observe?” came a deep voice next to my ear. “I could make it well worth your while to play.”
I turned to find the man who’d checked me out in the lounge.
“I’m only here to observe. I don’t ever participate.”
“That’s too bad.” There was a tinge of humor in his words. “I’m Ronaldo.” He took my hand in his, holding it in a firm, yet comforting grip. “And I was kidding. I respect the meaning of your band. You seemed lost in your head, and I wanted to bring you back to the present.”
How right he was.
“I’m Cara.”
Why had I given him that name? I stopped calling myself that after Stavros died. It was his pet name for me and reminded me of him.
“You look very familiar. Have we met before?” He released my hand and smiled down at me.
He really was very good looking. Especially his slate-gray eyes—they were kind and genuine. He had the controlled aura I expected from a Dom, but it wasn’t overbearing or pushy.
“Not that I know of. Besides, you have no idea what I look like under this mask that covers most of my face.”
“It’s made of lace and gives a peek of the woman underneath. I see beauty and intelligence.”
A prickle of awareness went down my spine. That was unexpected. The only time I’d ever had this type of hyperaware physical reaction to a man was whenever Pierce was around. Not even Stavros could call to this side of me. Ours was a gentle, mutually gratifying sexual relationship, never all-consuming or intense.
A door opened near us, and the couple from the scene exited. They received claps and cheers, but their attention was entirely on each other. The Dom lifted the submissive’s fingers to his lips and then led her out of the area.
“They’re a very intense couple. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Yes. The love between them brought out the raw emotions of the scene.” My body still hummed from watching the submissive orgasm.
“You are very insightful, Cara. I’d like to get to know you better. Care to join me for a cocktail?”
I hadn’t thought to do anything but observe. It wouldn’t hurt to get to know someone who had an idea of the person I was in real life.
Before I could answer, a possessive arm came around my waist and immediately, I knew the reason my body was so charged.
“She’s already spoken for.”
Chapter Eleven
Pierce
* * *
Amelia stiffened as my palm slid over her abdomen. Her hand gripped mine, but she didn’t push it away as I’d expected.
I knew I’d epically blown the conversation with her, but I didn’t regret my offer. I hadn’t gone in with the intention of bartering for sex or another child, and marriage had been the last thing on my mind. But there I was, watching the play of anxiety on her face, and my mind spoke before I realized what I was doing.
I wanted her, not just physically. I wanted the relationship we’d had where we could talk for hours and never run out of things to say. I missed the security I felt knowing without a doubt no matter what was thrown at us, the other would be there. I knew those were childhood memories, and wishing for the past was not only stupid but impossible. Hell, I was essentially blackmailing her into this. What other choice would I have? I was desperate to have her in my life, to have our child in my life. She was the only woman I had ever wanted to marry, to have a future with.
I was such a fucking pussy.
“Pierce,” Amelia whispered. Her fingers flexed on top of mine. “What are you doing here?”
“I own the place. The more important question is what are you doing here?”
I’d watched her on the club monitors for the last hour. Her disguise made her look like any other submissive in the place who didn’t want to be recognized, but she could never have hidden from me. I knew every curve of that body.
If Penny hadn’t called me, I wouldn’t have come here tonight. Her telling me about Amelia was Penny’s way of apologizing. We’d have to have a real conversation soon, but this was a start. Penny was one of the few people I couldn’t stay mad at. She loved hard and protected harder.
“Pierce. It is good to see you.” Ronaldo smiled his know-it-all smile. “I didn’t know you’d be in tonight.”
The bastard had known Amelia was mine from the moment she’d stepped into the club. He was the manager in charge tonight and would have known something was up when Penny arranged for the guest membership.
When he’d walked up to Amelia and began to flirt, it had taken all my strength not to punch him in the face. The only thing that saved him was the fact he hadn’t gotten over his ex and wasn’t even closely ready to move on. Their breakup was almost as devastating as what had happened with Amelia and me.
“You know how I like to pop in every now and then.”
He gave me a smirk and said, “I take it that you know Cara.”
It was my turn to flex my fingers. I hated that name. It reminded me of how Stavros had taken the woman I’d loved and changed her, going as far as giving her a new name.
“You could say that. Wouldn’t you agree, Ame?”
“Yes. We know each other.” Her voice was too calm, in the way it would get whenever she was in the mood to fight or fuck.
I’d watched her get aroused by the environment of the club and then even more so as she watched Oliver and Farrah. She wanted to be part of this world but was too afraid to take the step from observer to full-on submissive.
She’d rejected my insane proposal, but I knew if circumstances were different, she would have agreed.
She could change her mind—after all, she still needs your silence.
God, I was an asshole.
“Ame, are you ready to go?” I asked in the same ear Ronaldo had whispered into.
I felt her shiver and then nod. My cock immediately took notice.
It couldn’t be this easy. She’d been livid when she left the restaurant. I all but expected her to stab me with a knife, if not punch me in the throat.
I couldn’t jump to conclusions. She was agreeing to go with me, not to fuck me or give me another child.
“Does that mean you aren’t joining me for a cocktail, Cara?”
Bastard loved to give me a hard time, and I usually found his attempts at cock-blocking amusing, but tonight it pissed me off.
He was one of the few people who’d known me during my swim days. He’d stuck by me when I’d self-destructed after Amelia left me, destroying my career and any hopes of returning to the Olympics.
“Thank you for the offer, but I have to decline.”
I gritted my teeth as Ronaldo took her hand in his and kissed the top. “Don’t let him bully you, Cara.”
“I won’t.” She gave him a dazzling smile.
Ronaldo smirked in my direction. “Enjoy your evening, Pierce.”
“That’s the plan.”
At my words, Amelia lifted a brow.
It was definitely not going to be easy to change her mind.
“Follow me.” I shifted Amelia in the direction of a set of pathways leading to private playrooms.
“Where are we going?”
I waited to respond until we took a hallway that happened to be reserved for our VIP members.
“We need to discuss a few things, and I don’t want an audience.”
“Yes, we do.”
We stopped in front of a false wall at the end of the hall.
All of my clubs had private offices disguised in plain sight. Each of the partners had one, including my brothers and Ronaldo.
Hagen and Zack used theirs to conduct business, but Ronaldo and I would use ours as private playrooms, equipped with everything we preferred when indulging in a scene. Over the years, I’d lost myself in too many women to count, hoping to forget the one pe
rson who destroyed my heart. It had been a hollow substitution. That was when I changed to women who understood the rules. We’d share a companionship that included kink, and when our time was over, we’d part ways with no hard feelings.
It had been six months since I’d touched someone other than Amelia. Ever since I knew Amelia would be back in my life, the thought of playing with anyone but her had no appeal.
No matter how much I wanted her writhing under me, screaming my name, and begging me never to let her go, I had to tread carefully.
I scanned my thumbprint on the security panel and pushed the wall, revealing it as a hidden door.
She stepped inside and then came to an abrupt halt. “Holy shit.”
Amelia
* * *
My heartbeat drummed into my ears as I took in the room. I expected to have a discussion in an office, but not this. The walls were a pale gray with pops of black and white, very masculine, very Pierce. One side had dark cherry wood cabinets, while another had a display of whips, floggers, and paddles.
My core clenched, knowing what he could do with a paddle, especially if I misbehaved. It was punishment wrapped in a delicious mix of pleasure and pain.
There was a sofa in one corner and a large four-poster bed in another.
How many women had he fucked here?
I pushed the thought aside and then felt my breath grow ragged, coming out in short pants as I took in the St. Andrew’s Cross positioned in the center of the room. Images of the couple from earlier flashed in my mind, as did the fantasy I’d weaved of Pierce and me.
I jumped as Pierce set a hand on my lower back, making goosebumps prickle down my spine. “Are you frightened, Ame?”
“No.” I licked my lips. “This room doesn’t frighten me. I haven’t agreed to anything other than talk.”
He moved around me and toward a desk in one corner of the room. He gestured to a chair and leaned against the desk.
I remained standing, resting my hand on the high back of the upholstered seat.
“Why did you come to my club, Ame?”
“I was curious.”
“Was that the only reason?” His blue eyes studied me, searching for any half-truths or lies.
He’d always done that. I couldn’t hide my reactions to him or hold anything from his penetrating gaze.
“Yes.” I wasn’t lying.
However, now that I thought about it, I knew I wanted more insight into the man who was all but blackmailing me into sleeping with him again.
The outrage still lingered, but what solution did I have other than agreeing to the bargain? Logic said there had to be other ways to gain his cooperation, but at this moment, I couldn’t think of a single one that wouldn’t expose Christopher’s paternity.
Protecting Stavros’s legacy came first. The man had given me a future I never imagined. I owed it to him.
“I see.” He didn’t seem convinced by my answer.
We stared at each other for what felt like hours. The tension between us was thick, almost as if we’d started a scene. My skin tingled and yearned for his touch.
Fuck, was I really going to do this?
“Now to the reason why I wanted to talk to you. The offer.” He sighed. “I’m rescinding—”
“I accept,” I said, cutting him off.
Surprise flashed across his face and then was immediately replaced with a look that had a slow pulse of need and anxiety starting to build inside me. I’d always had this reaction when he switched from Pierce to the Dominant. Back when I was seventeen, I had no idea why he affected me like this, but now I knew it was the nature of our relationship.
“I need you to be sure, Amelia.” His voice was thick with lust.
“This is what I want. But you need to know something before we go further.”
I wouldn’t go into this tricking him. There were too many lies between us.
“Go on,” he prompted.
“There is a very high chance we won’t ever get pregnant. I had complications during my delivery of Christopher. There was scarring.”
“I know.”
“You had me investigated.” It wasn’t a question. I should have guessed he would have had every bit of information dug up on me the moment he learned about Christopher. Plus, he had Penny’s brother Adrian on his payroll, and Adrian was a super sleuth when it came to learning information, especially the things people went to great lengths to hide.
“Yes. I’m willing to take my chances. As you said, Stavros was sterile. We obviously know I’m not. Not once did I go without a condom when fucking you, and we had a child.”
I swallowed. “And if I don’t get pregnant?”
“Then I’ll keep the terms I laid out. You’re free to go back to Greece as long as I have some sort of relationship with Christopher. I won’t take him from you, but I will be part of his life as a friend, uncle, whatever.”
“And you still want to marry me if I’m pregnant?”
“I’ve never given thought to marrying a woman other than you.”
What did he mean by that?
“I don’t understand.”
“What is there to understand? The one and only other time I thought about marrying anyone was when I was nineteen.” He moved toward me, stopping when he was a foot from me with the chair the only thing between us.
“Oh.” I had no idea what to say to that.
“This is your last chance to change your mind.” He lifted his hand, cupping my throat and giving it a slight squeeze before he ran his thumb over my lower lip. “You can walk out that door now, and we won’t go any further. We can figure out another solution.”
I stared into his cobalt gaze and for the first time since I came back, I saw the vulnerable boy I’d fallen so hard for. He’d always acted the part of the hard, overconfident man, but deep down he had his own demons and insecurities.
“I already said I accepted your offer.”
“From this moment on, this body.” He shifted until there was nothing separating us.
He gripped my waist, and then trailed the fingers on my throat down between my breasts and to my lingerie-covered crotch. “This pussy.” He grazed my clit, eliciting a moan. “Every sound of your desire will belong to me.”
His palm splayed over my abdomen. “As will the child I plan to put inside of you.”
I opened my lips to respond but nothing came out. Pierce stepped away from me, moving to the far end of the room near the cabinets.
“Strip.”
I stood frozen.
This was it. I was now back in the world of those desires I’d tried so hard to repress.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I said, strip.”
His voice had changed to the thick timbre that caused my skin to tingle and breasts to swell. He took a seat in an armchair and watched me, not saying a word but ordering me to follow his directions or suffer the consequences.
I moved to a chaise, using the back to help me keep balance as I slipped off my heels. Slowly, I opened the threaded binding of my lace corset. Once it was off, I set it on the sofa. Next came my stockings and underwear. In a matter of minutes, I’d gone from Amelia Thanos, international sports promoter-manager, to Pierce Lykaios’s submissive.
“Now come here.”
Taking cautious steps, I walked toward him. His hooded gaze had my pulse jumping. When I was a foot from him, he settled his hands on my waist, pulling me closer. I caught myself from tumbling by clutching his shoulders.
He traced one of the tattoos on my hip.
The trident.
It was the exact replica of the one he had on his hip. I’d convinced Pierce to get the symbol as a way to commemorate his six gold medals and the name the press had given him as the American Poseidon.
He lifted his head, beautiful blue eyes locking with mine. There was pain and confusion warring in their depths.
“So I left a mark on you too.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.
He hadn’t a
clue as to the marks he’d left on me. When we were younger, I reveled in the torrent of emotions I’d felt for him. Now it was like drowning with no way to escape.
“When did you get it?” His thumb drew circles around the symbol.
I bit my lip, not wanting to tell him.
“Right after Christopher was born.”
He stopped his movement, and his hold on my waist tightened. “Why?”
“I was still in love with you. I wanted something to remind me of a happier time.”
“Your husband had no problem with you marking yourself with something to remind you of another man?”
“He didn’t know I’d gotten it, and by the time I shared his bed, it was part of my body. He never questioned it.”
“What about this one?” He studied the Indian-inspired design going the length of my hip and thigh. “Are those boxing gloves, moons, and dolphins intertwined in the pattern?”
I couldn’t help but laugh at his confused tone. “Yes. Anaya designed it for me. She said it represents who I am. I had one of Henna’s killer drink mixes, and we were in Tahiti. It wasn’t until the next day when I inspected the tattoo that I realized she’d carefully hidden pictures in the patterns. Let’s say I was a bit annoyed that Henna took advantage of my drinking featherweight status and let her know it.”
“The gloves I understand, but what about the dolphins and moons?”
I looked away, causing Pierce to cup my jaw and turn it back to him.
“It’s me, isn’t it? The moon calms the sea, and the dolphins represent Amphitrite, Poseidon’s wife.”
“Does it matter?” I responded.
“I suppose not.” He stood, his height towering over me without the aid of my heels. “Take off my shirt.”
The mood instantly shifted, and my arousal began to pulse once more.
He watched me as I slowly untucked his fitted black polo from the waist of his dark denim jeans. I lifted the hem, tugging it up. Pierce grabbed the back of the shirt and pulled it over his head.