by C. C. Gibbs
He understood body language better than most. It was a requisite in his line of work. Miss Hart was restless. Since he didn’t want her to bolt, he moved back, leaned against the counter under the liquor bottles and brought up the subject of her Bucharest success, his tone temperate, the topic intentionally banal. He wanted to put her at ease and purposely asked questions about her methodology for breaking through firewalls. She visibly relaxed as she answered, eventually started on the second box of chocolates, found several she liked and ate them with the same appreciation he’d noticed at dinner. Definitely a woman of appetites.
Over the course of the next half hour he managed to curb himself and his desire for her. And if she hadn’t said out of the blue, ‘Tell me something. The fact that I’m leaving soon accounts for your interest in me, right?’ the night might have proved uneventful.
He paused with his refilled glass halfway to his mouth, his expression guarded. ‘Honestly?’
‘Is that a problem?’
He set his glass down, met her gaze straight on. ‘No. And yes, the time line’s a factor.’
‘Hah! I knew it!’
Her little jiggle of elation made him smile. ‘You like to be right?’
‘Don’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m flexible.’
‘Like in Singapore?’
‘I can be flexible.’
‘For the right incentive.’
But there was a teasing note in her voice now and her green gaze was bright with triumph or flirtation. Or champagne. He’d have to find out which, or whether it even mattered any more. ‘What do you have in mind?’ he drawled, thinking he’d like to kiss her rosy cheek first, taste that soft, sweet freshness. ‘I’m open to any incentive, large or small.’
The word ‘large’ scorched through her brain, sent a flame-hot rush of desire into every susceptible crevice in her body, triggered a small gasp she wasn’t able to contain.
He didn’t move, he didn’t so much as blink and when he spoke, his voice was no more than a whisper. ‘Is there something I might do for you perhaps?’ Champagne nearly sloshed over the rim of her glass and moving quickly, he lifted it from her trembling hand and set it aside. ‘All you have to do is ask.’
‘I don’t want to.’ Gathering herself, she leaned back in her chair to put some distance between herself and temptation, braced her hands palm down on the bar to steady her nerves and tried to breathe normally. Then she lifted her cat-eyed, restless gaze. ‘If you must know, it’s too humiliating to be just another mindless fuck.’
‘Christ, as if you are. Look.’ He hesitated, his feelings so far from what passed for normal lately he was entering new territory. ‘I don’t—’ He stopped again, not sure whether honesty was beneficial or if it was safer to lie. He’d never actually been truthful to all the temporary women in his life. ‘I can guarantee you wouldn’t be’ – another pause – ‘that,’ he finished, rather than repeat her blunt phrase. ‘The fact is – I didn’t want to send you home after Amsterdam. I have no idea why. Werner could have handled Singapore for me.’ Faced with the new, baffling dilemma of his fascination with this young woman, recognizing that what he had to offer wasn’t in her best interests, in fact might be ruinous for her, he reluctantly made a principled decision. ‘On second thought’ – he exhaled heavily – ‘this’ – he did a back and forth motion with his index finger – ‘you and me isn’t a good idea. Not for you anyway.’ He took a breath, reached for his glass. ‘We’d better call it a night.’ Raising his glass to his mouth, he poured the liquor down his throat, shot her a look as he set the glass down. ‘Go before I change my mind.’ Grabbing the bottle, he refilled his glass and lifted his chin towards the door. ‘Go.’
‘I don’t want to,’ Kate quietly said. ‘Not really. Unless you want me to.’ She couldn’t tell if he did or not; this was not a man bent on seduction. He might even be inherently decent, which surprised her. She’d seen him domineering, arrogant, even tyrannical, but not like this. Not Dominic Knight being virtuous.
With a soft oath, he put the bottle down. One of them should be practical; he thought he had been. Now what? A rhetorical question quickly dismissed. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ he said, thinking how unbelievably sexy she looked biting down hard on the inside of her lip. ‘Because I’m not sure I do.’
‘I think so.’
‘You’d better be sure.’ His voice was gruff.
She took another deep breath that lit up his retinas, smashed his moral compass and set the evening in motion even before she said, ‘I’m sure. I find you irresistible.’
A small sigh. He appreciated the irony. He couldn’t remember when he’d last said no to sex. Another sigh, deeper this time, because what he was about to say was sobering. ‘I feel the same way about you.’
His quiet declaration made her heart flip. ‘You don’t have to say that.’
An easy smile. ‘It’s a compliment. Say thank you.’
‘Thank you. And now, if you don’t mind.’
‘You’re impatient.’
‘It’s been a while.’
He wanted to ask how long, but stopped himself because it didn’t matter. Instead, he walked around the end of the bar, came to a halt beside her, lifted her off her barstool, seated her on the end of the bar facing him, and moved between her legs. Smoothly untying her robe, he slipped it off her shoulders and let it fall down her arms. ‘Very showy,’ he whispered, running his palms over her large breasts, gently stroking the soft, yielding flesh.
Leaning forward, he kissed her rosy cheek and felt such surprising pleasure, he kissed her again – on her lips.
As his mouth lifted from hers, she blushed, looked down, then slowly raised her gaze to his. Innocence waiting to be fucked, he pleasantly thought. And his, he decided with the proprietary instincts of a modern princeling. He traced the pale curvature of her breasts with his fingertips. ‘You shouldn’t hide these,’ he softly said. ‘We’ll get you some clothes you can wear for me … in private.’ Capturing her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, he gently squeezed. ‘Something to show these off,’ he said, husky and low, watching the peaks swell with the increasing pressure.
She groaned as the ravishing sensations flowed downward, curled hot in the pit of her stomach, instantly liquefied her body as though she welcomed his casual coercion, as if she were utterly shameless, as if his touch, no matter how wilful, inflamed her lust. Squirming on the marble bar top, she whimpered, ‘Please, please … oh lord—’
‘Easy.’ His voice was low, silken, placating. ‘We have all night.’
She wanted to say, ‘I can’t wait all night’, but her brain was consumed with frenzied lust not speech, her senses in tumult, the ache between her legs relentless. His grip on her nipples was firm, hard, insistent, his fingers strangely rough, as if he worked with his hands – Oh God – with ropes and whips. A terrifying sense of powerlessness ran up her spine at the thought of Dominic Knight with a whip and she shivered.
‘Hey, hey … slow down,’ he whispered, letting his fingers slip from her nipples. ‘Relax.’
His lips brushed hers, his kiss soothing, the warmth of his mouth lingering on hers with such gentleness, she could feel the wildness inside her ease. ‘How do you do it?’ she whispered.
Another benevolent little kiss. ‘It’s better if you don’t move too fast.’
‘And you can make it last?’ Her body was purring in wait mode.
His smile was close, heated. ‘We’ll try.’ Then he slid his palms under her breasts and raised his hands slightly. ‘How does this feel?’
‘Like I want you inside me.’
He grinned. ‘You’re rushing me, babe.’ He adjusted the weight of her breasts in his palms. ‘Maybe I don’t feel like doing that right now. Maybe I want you to wait.’ He spread his long, slender fingers, gently squeezed her soft flesh.
She swallowed hard as another heated surge streaked down from her breasts and a ripple of unbearable longing fla
red inside her. ‘What if I can’t wait?’
He looked up. ‘You have to.’
A resentful flash in her eyes. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I’m the one with the dick and you’re the one that wants it,’ he gently said. ‘It’s not complicated. Now look. We’re going to go – just a little higher? Like that? More? A little more? Jesus,’ he breathed, his gaze on her large breasts shoved up into towering mounds. ‘I’m going to have to fuck these huge tits.’
Even as she gasped at the discomfort, her body treacherously welcomed Dominic Knight’s coercion in a hot liquid rush of desire. She moaned, shifted slightly on the cool marble bar top, clenched her thighs against her stark craving.
Not yet, he selfishly thought. ‘Too high?’ But he didn’t lower his hands, he pushed her breasts higher.
She cried out in shock or distress or something else entirely.
That something else was too enticing to ignore. She didn’t mind a little pain. ‘No more waiting for you, Miss Hart?’ he pleasantly said.
‘I’d rather not.’
Snappish or randy, he wasn’t sure. ‘So you need a little help?’ But he was already slipping a finger into her slick cleft. ‘Umm, there we are.’ His fingertips tenderly touched her hypersensitive clit. ‘Nice.’ He squeezed delicately, looked up; his voice softened. ‘Did we get that right?’
She softly moaned as a riptide began rising inside, her cheeks flushed.
‘Here – lean back.’ He helped her shift her weight back on her hands. ‘Give me a little room.’ He slid his finger past her clit, deeper, but not too deep, teasing her. ‘Better now?’
She pressed into his finger, moved her hips, lifted her big-eyed gaze to his.
‘Wound up tight, babe?’
‘Please … I mean it, please …’
A flicker of a smile. ‘You need to come down, don’t you?’ His hand brushed her cheek, slid down to her breast, cupped it gently, found her nipple and squeezed. Her small gasp warmed his cheek as he bent to add another finger to her silky heat. Pushing gently, he slid the second finger alongside the first, thrust both in slowly, lingered on her tingling G-spot, her swollen clit, looked up as she softly sighed. Then he settled into a slow, rhythmic in and out stroke, taking his time, watching her.
Gently rocking against his fingers, eyes shut against the building bliss, Kate finally gave in to her on-again-off-again burning hot craving for Dominic Knight. She didn’t care any more about kinkiness or control freak issues. He could be Bluebeard for all she cared, so long as he didn’t stop doing what he was doing. He was worlds better than any vibrator and a universe better than any of her former fumbling sexual partners. Really, with them the phrase ‘Lie back and think of England’ was totally appropriate. But with Dominic she groaned in a little musical exhalation of heavenly rapture. His selfless attentions to her GSspot were awesome.
‘You like that?’
She could hear the smile in his voice, the satisfaction, and on some perversely primal level it gave her pleasure to satisfy him. Not that the quid pro quo wasn’t unbelievable. Breathtaking. Seriously worth the wait.
Unhurried, focused, he massaged her clit, around and around, slowly, gently, perfectly on target, then stroked her G-spot with equal thoughtfulness, watching her from under his lashes, waiting for her to catch that perfect wave.
Her body suddenly went still, her breath caught.
‘Look at me or I’ll stop.’
She heard his soft growl through a red-hot, pre-orgasmic haze. Then the exquisite pressure on her clit disappeared. A fraction of a second passed before the significance of the two actions registered in her fevered brain and another second before her eyelids flew up.
She met Dominic’s smile.
‘Good girl. I want you to look at me when you come. Can you do that?’
‘Do I have a choice?’ A tight-lipped hiss.
Another smile, fainter. ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’
He waited briefly, saw she was in no position to argue, and resumed his gentle stroking.
She saw the flicker of amusement in his gaze, but she was beyond resistance, needing what he could give her, already feeling the sumptuous pleasure rekindle inside her. Her greedy clit quivered in delight, the throbbing between her legs matched the racing beat of her heart, and forced to meet his hard, blue gaze, she yielded to his authority and to the rising frenzy of an imminent orgasm.
‘I want you to understand who’s in charge of your climax the next few days,’ he coolly said. ‘So there’s no misunderstandings.’
While a teeny, tiny part of her brain was telling him to fuck off, the rest of her mind was lit up like a Christmas tree, every pleasure centre blazing bright with feel-good colour, and right now she was willing to promise him anything. ‘Got it,’ she whispered, then gasped, ‘Oh God!’ and began to tremble.
‘Don’t shut your eyes.’
The sharp command coupled with a tap on her clit made her wince.
Made her take notice.
Dominic recognized the effort it took for her to raise her lashes, decided it was time to end this little game. ‘Just so we’re clear. I’m going to be fucking you all night, Miss Hart. If you please me, we’ll make some decisions after that on how to make further use of your skills. We’ll have a job evaluation in the morning, so do your best.’
She felt the first orgasmic ripples surge as she thought of Dominic Knight, cool-eyed and all business in that navy blue pinstripe suit evaluating her sexual competence in the morning. Sucking in her breath, she felt the next powerful wave slam through her body and nervously glanced up at Dominic.
‘You have my permission, Miss Hart,’ he gently said, his fingers buried deep inside her. ‘You may come now.’
As if her body was his to command, as though she had no will, as though she was a slave to raging lust, she uttered a breathless sob and instantly climaxed. For stark moments, the world disappeared, her senses overwhelmed by orgasmic spasms so intense she felt as though she’d been swallowed up in a tidal wave.
Literally gasping, still half dazed, she broke through the surface of illusion, jerked back to reality by a mouth on her nipple. ‘No, no, don’t!’ Swinging her hand up, she tried to push Dominic away, every nerve still shell-shocked.
He brushed her hand down, held her gaze, lifted his brows fractionally – his message clear. Then he bent his head.
She went rigid, not quite sure whether she was fearful or pissed.
Looking up just before his mouth touched her nipple, he grinned. ‘Come on, Miss Hart. Another orgasm can’t be that bad.’
She sniffed. ‘How would you know?’
‘All in good time,’ he murmured, and bent his head.
But he was super-gentle, his tongue soothing her nipple with little tender butterfly licks, his fingertips resting quiescent on her clit, the pressure feather-light. Her spine eased, then her constraint, and short moments later she surrendered to lush sensation, squirmed against the rising heat coursing through her body, uttered a small sigh as Dominic drew the taut peak into his mouth and nibbled lightly. Just nips at first, then little bites and as her breathing began to change, he clasped the tender tip between his teeth and exerted enough force to leave marks.
Her shocked cry quickly altered to a low throaty groan as hot pleasure nullified the sting.
‘Don’t move.’ His strong fingers sank into the soft, pliant flesh of her breast, held her prisoner as he drew her entire jewel-hard nipple into his mouth and began to suck. Hard, deliberately hard, sharply, punishingly, ignoring her whimpers – a predator taking what he wanted by force.
Her protest died in her throat – a casualty of a hot, spiking lust that left her speechless and disturbed. She shouldn’t be responding to such flagrant force. Or such flagrant sensation, a little voice pointed out. Then she heard him whisper, ‘You’re really wet, Miss Hart. Does that mean you like me?’ And she felt her face turn hot.
Even while mortified at her willing response, each author
itative bite of her nipple intensified the decadent, riveting sensations. ‘Damn you,’ she panted in blanket grievance against his authority and her breathless need. Then she sat up, shoved her fingers through his dark, silken hair, dragged his head closer, arched her back and strained against the unspeakable ecstasy.
Forceful and firm, ungentle and methodical, he first sucked the nipple in his mouth at length, then transferred his expertise to the other breast. His fingers also fully engaged.
Priming her for the night ahead.
She no longer felt the full impact of his brutal assault on her nipples. She only felt a volatile, white-hot lust: analgesic, incandescent, melting away reason and intellect, preference or choice.
As her breathing escalated, Dominic jerked his head from her grasp and leaned back slightly. ‘Ready, Miss Hart?’
No longer moored in reality, she didn’t hear him. Her eyes were half closed, her swollen nipples were throbbing in time to her heartbeat and skittish pre-orgasmic flutters were beginning to spin out of control.
He smiled. Was six days enough to fully explore his new employee’s hot-blooded passions? Should he change his plans, bring her along? He frowned. That meant moving outside his comfort zone. Not that he wouldn’t be well compensated. Sex on demand didn’t look like it would be a problem for Miss Hart.
A soft whimper interrupted his musing.
Recapturing her nipple in his mouth, he gripped the soft, elastic tissue with his teeth, grasped her other nipple with his free hand and eased his head and hand back by slow degrees until both nipples were stretched and distended. Intensified his focus on her G-spot as well for sure-fire results.
Whimpering in a ragged little cadence, Kate no longer knew if it was pleasure or pain bombarding her brain, the raw sensations overwhelmed by a raging hysteria. Whether it was torment or bliss she was feeling, the result was drenching her sex, stealing her reason, shattering her nerve endings, driving her with churning force towards orgasm.