Wicked doubt enhanced with a dose of jealousy stabbed her chest. This was an established tradition in the lifestyle, a time-honored ritual, arranged with tenderness in mind, but not specifically for her. How many women had he cared for on this same sofa?
“Don’t do that,” he murmured. “Stay in the present. Nothing else matters or exists. The past is over. The future is an illusion.”
She glanced at him. “How did you know?”
“Human nature.” He grimaced. “Our perception of time is skewed. We go on with our lives, believing the absurd fantasy that we own time. We don’t. Time owns us.”
You own all of me, she thought. What are you holding back?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JOE ROLLED OUT of bed, avoiding any movements that could awaken Hunter. He’d already tossed from one side to the other and flipped from his belly to his back enough times trying to fall asleep again. But nothing had worked. His brain throttled him with thoughts and questions and refused to settle down. Might as well stop resisting the inevitable and deal with it.
As he left his bedroom, he grabbed the T-shirt he’d dropped on the night table and padded out on bare feet. He left the door slightly ajar, ensuring the lock didn’t make any clicking sounds. He tugged his shirt down as he walked past the living room and stood out in the balcony.
Judging by the milky blue color of the eastern sky, he guessed the time should be somewhere around six. Hunter would sleep at least another hour, hopefully two. Last night had been demanding on her. She needed to recover.
He pushed back from the railing and stretched out on a lounge chair. Folding his hands over his stomach, he focused on the deserted park and the aqua-blue fountain at the center of the lake. Downtown Orlando was asleep. Except for the distant chirps of waking birds and the occasional car passing by, early morning stillness surrounded him—all the right conditions to inspire serenity. Internally, however, he was a royal mess, a boiling cauldron—far from peace or anything remotely similar.
The schemes and plans he’d made in the heat of righteous anger and thirst for revenge collapsed inch by inch as he spent days with Hunter and came to know her better. The image he’d created of her, the one that strengthened his purpose and justified his actions—the diva-like vixen, the selfish man-eater, the cold temptress—hadn’t surfaced. He hadn’t found in Hunter a single trace of the woman who wrote that cruel, indifferent letter. As if they were two different people.
The woman sleeping in his bedroom had been soft and malleable, sweet, vulnerable, and open. Most of all, she’d trusted him and offered herself without reservations. She’d taken the quintessential leap of faith. And now his desire for punishment was losing strength and meaning while his conscience railed at him, louder and louder.
The icing on the guilt cake had been Master Kurt’s surprise visit to the Celtic Rainbow. Kurt Allendorf’s piercing, knowing gaze pointed accusatory fingers without words. The reminders floated in the air between them: you’re not a vindictive man; do your research; learn the truth. Everything Joe had arrogantly ignored, including the warning…
“This could haunt you, turn against you in the worst possible way.”
Too late. It had turned on him already.
He wanted Hunter, desired her like no other woman. He saw her in his mind, standing in inspection mode, wearing his collar, her belly growing with his child. His cock stiffened instantly.
Exhaling a deep breath, he closed his eyes and dug his fingers through his scalp. He knew Afghanistan wouldn’t let him enjoy that lovely image for long. Right on cue, sounds of battle—the screams of men, the incessant reports of heavy gunfire—roared in his ears. The torturing vision reappeared: Billy struck from every direction, a grotesque marionette jerking in place, a deafening explosion, acute pain, and then…the void.
“Oh, fuck.” Murmuring to himself, he rubbed his palms over his face. He couldn’t forget justice for Billy any more than he could turn his back on Hunter. For the first time since he’d embarked on this mission, he felt trapped by the situation and furious at the universe for dumping this crap on him.
No one twisted your arm, asshole.
That’s for sure. No one had.
“I missed you. The bed’s cold without you.” Hunter spoke behind him.
Startled, Joe snapped back to the present as her soft hands slipped from his shoulders to his chest.
“Is this allowed?” She kissed his hair.
“You asked nicely.” Manacling her wrist, he brought her around to his side. “Plus, we’re not in the playroom.” He guided her down by the waist until she sat on his lap. His waning erection stirred with renewed interest when her butt cheeks landed on him.
Hunter’s body was still warm from the sheets. Her green eyes maintained that gentle, dreamy, not-yet-awake expression. Cradling her face, he caressed her plump lower lip with his thumb. “Did you get enough rest? Why don’t you go back to bed, catch another hour of sleep?”
“Mmm, I like this better.”
Turning a little, Hunter slipped a hand around his neck. She sighed as she slinked down, dropping her cheek against his chest.
Joe didn’t think about it. He embraced her, nestling her head under his jaw.
She shifted.
Did he squeeze her too tightly?
Maybe a sudden fear had taken him.
Life without her.
No.
Hunter shifted and glanced up at him, a stubborn hint of sleep lingering in her eyes, then returned to her previous position.
I can’t. I won’t let you go. You’re mine. There must be a way.
Yes. Fuck, yes.
Emotional awareness struck him in the chest. She was more than his ideal sub. She was made of kindness and courage, of love and sacrifice. He admired her drive to improve her future, her determination to stay the course, and her devotion to Kevin above all things. He’d seen her place. She worked two jobs and lived on pennies; the rest went to her child. An old quote came to him: “Nothing is so strong as gentleness, nothing so gentle as real strength.”
Hunter, I love you.
As he turned the mental corner and arrived at this critical decision, the churning in his stomach and mind ebbed. Now he looked onward, to the work. To turning every stone in search of the truth, as an important clue eluded him. Once he found it, he’d seek a solution to the problem and a satisfying appeasement for his sense of justice.
Somehow.
Joe admired the lovely form between his arms.
In the meantime, kitten, you’ll never know how close we came to disaster…
Hunter raised her head. “Joe, I mean, Sir. Is something wrong?”
“No.” He stiffened. “Why do you ask?”
“Your heartbeat, Sir. Thumped harder.”
He released a soft breath. “Huh, interesting. I was thinking about a couple of phone calls I have to make. Pain in the behind, work stuff.”
Smiling, she placed her cheek against his chest. “That makes sense.”
It should, if it were the truth.
The lie couldn’t be helped. She would never know the motive behind his studied maneuverings to breach her defenses, or his methods to strike a potent spark of interest in her.
How could he ever explain to Hunter Giordano, a woman who—for still unknown reasons—had closed herself off to men, that he’d chased and seduced her only to dump her once her heart was engaged? What justification could he use that would sound logical—cause and effect? She deserved retribution for her sins of cruelty, the loss of a man’s life. Shit, in the cold light of day, the whole matter sounded insane to him.
She’d spit in his face, and he’d lose her love and trust forever.
Trust. The one emotion he’d been peddling since the start.
He couldn’t bear that possibility. No fucking way. His skewed plan would remain forgotten in the darkest recesses of his soul. Only Master Kurt knew the ugly truth, and he’d never reveal it.
Foolish bastard, the joke w
as on him. She’d taken his heart without even trying. Hunter was his submissive, that was a fait accompli and unchangeable. However, in the exchange, he’d become her willing captive.
His mission had changed. His new purpose was to uncover the painful secrets she hid so well, heal her old wounds, love her, fulfill her submissive needs, and honor her as she deserved. With that, his soul lightened on the spot. The guilt demons scattered every which way.
“Let’s talk about conduct, kitten.” He kissed her fragrant hair. “From now on, we’ll be in D/s protocol when we’re in our playroom, during sex, or in a scene. Any other time, call me Joe, I like how you say my name.”
She looked up. “You do?” Her eyes glittered.
“Absolutely.” He nodded. “If for any reason, especially if we’re out in public and I need you to adopt protocol, I will hold you like this…” He circled her slender neck from the side. His middle finger and thumb came close to touching. “That’s our signal. Don’t hesitate.”
“Oh, I won’t.” Hunter smiled. “I like that. Feels sexy.”
He eyed her with curiosity. “How?”
“It’s an intimate declaration from my Dom. I feel possessed, wanted. I’m reminded I belong to you. And that makes me hot,” she whispered. A tinge of pink flushed her cheeks.
“That’s what I call remarkable progress. You’ve left the old shyness behind. Always tell me how you feel, kitten. I wanna know everything.” Splaying his hand, he moved down to clasp her ass cheek. “Mmm, you have a delicious, round butt. Can’t wait to give it my full attention.” He dug his fingertips into her flesh and shook gently, appreciating the firmness under his palm.
Hunter squeaked and shivered.
“What was that about?” He dug his fingers a little deeper. “Anticipation? Pleasure?”
“Both.” She giggled.
“How much time do we have before we have to return to Saint Cloud?”
“Actually…” Her eyes widened. “I only work at the bar. Sole gave me the day off, being that this was our first weekend in Orlando and all…” She raised one shoulder.
“Is that right? Remind me to thank Soledad when I see her. And you…” He slapped her ass. “Should’ve told me right away. For that omission, your delicious butt is getting the ultimate treatment today.” He slapped her cheek again. “Now get into the shower while I make coffee and breakfast. When you come out, wear the silk robe hanging in the closet. No shoes and no underwear. Get ready for a morning session.”
Holding the edges of her robe one over the other, the untied sash trailing the floor, Hunter stood before the playroom’s closed door. Sir would open it and invite her to enter, when he was ready. Dressed in black jeans and black T-shirt, he overwhelmed her with his close presence. The beat of her heart accelerated as seconds passed. Her breathing quickened. His body warmth permeated through the robe’s silky fabric. Wisps of breath he exhaled wafted over her head.
This session had all the markings of a ceremony. She’d graduated to full submissive status and would be treated as such. There would be no more newbie, relaxed attitude, or indulgent patience for her.
And she couldn’t wait.
Joe’s arm reached around her. Taking his sweet time, he twisted the doorknob and gave the door a light push inward.
Her heart jumped.
As the playroom came into view, a sense of familiarity relaxed her. In daylight, the downtown view wasn’t as brilliant, but nevertheless just as spectacular. She knew the equipment. Her pretty French settee was still there. The entire ambiance was softer somehow. That was until she turned and saw his face.
Hunter swallowed and faced front. She didn’t feel threatened by his demeanor. He’d never hurt her, she was certain, but his intensity surprised her. The angles of his face had sharpened. His expression was dead serious, in full dominant mode and made all the more powerful by the absence of his eye patch.
“Prepare for inspection, kitten.” The instruction, uttered in a soft tone, soothed and excited her at once.
“Right away, Sir.”
She remembered what he expected from her, and she would perform it to his full satisfaction. Her nipples hardened as she approached the settee. Did she feel a moist sensation between her thighs?
Wet already?
Focus. Centering her concentration in the moment, she stood next to the settee and shifted her shoulders, allowing the robe to slip down to her hips at a slow, seductive speed. She turned in place, stopped the robe from falling to her ankles, and, with an elegant swish of her hand, tossed the garment on the tufted velvet.
“Well done.” He smiled in approval.
“Thank you, Sir.” As she bent her torso, she peeked quickly at his bulging crotch. Her belly filled with satisfied butterflies.
“Continue,” he murmured. “And no more sneaky looks. That earned you two extra minutes of punishment.”
Bummer. Why would he be so observant? A girl needed her eye candy.
Inhaling deeply, she moved several feet from the settee. She linked her hands behind her neck, thrust her breasts forward and stood with her feet apart.
“Good.” He nodded, coming close to her. Moving left to right, he studied the front of her body, tweaked one nipple, then slipped a knuckle over her mons. “Hmm, smooth. No new growth. How?”
“Sir, I…”
“Explain.”
She trembled, unused to the raised position of her arms, and felt a touch of embarrassment remembering the Brazilian wax session. “I went to a salon.”
He chuckled, putting his fists on his hips. “Excellent job. Your idea?”
“Soledad’s.”
“Evidently, I owe Soledad quite a bit. Dinner at least. From now on, I’ll pay for your sessions.”
Hunter inhaled to speak. He held up a palm, stopping her.
“It’s my body, and I take care of it. Period. Full stop.” He kept walking around her. “Bend over, kitten.”
Taking a half step, she widened her stance. As she bent over, she lowered her arms to spread her butt cheeks apart. Relief at the returned circulation to her limbs won over her awkwardness. But when his jeans rubbed against the exposed skin of her thighs and ass and he searched between her pussy lips, she forgot any feelings of embarrassment.
“Nice. You’re so wet, kitten.” As he pressed his palm over her lower back, he wiggled his finger deep inside her sheath. Ah… The dominating presence of his flesh invading her body thrilled and dizzied her. His touch would never become routine.
“Warm. Delicious.” The lip-smacking sound told her he’d licked her juices off his finger. Her skin erupted in a million tiny bumps of delight.
“Stay there.” He patted her rump.
Like she was going anywhere, honestly.
Footsteps returned. He caressed her hips. “Release your cheeks and stay bent. Hold on to your knees for balance.” He started a slow massage of her ass cheeks. He kneaded and dug in with his fingertips as an increasingly warm and sleek sensation spread all over her rear. Her heart jumped, and she almost stiffened in expectation when he pressed his thumb against her puckered hole. She relaxed with a touch of disappointment when he slid his middle and index fingers toward her inner labia, oiling her sensitive flesh.
“How’s this?” he asked, tickling and rolling her clit.
“Sweet. The oil feels warm, Sir.” She rocked her hips in the opposite direction of his movements, increasing her pleasure.
Abruptly, he thrust two fingers into her sheath.
“Oh, Sir.” She arched her torso with pleasure.
“Kitten, likes getting finger-fucked,” he groaned against her skin. He’d slipped his free arm under her belly, anchoring her in place as he bent over her. “There’s more coming, baby.” He nibbled on a cheek. “So much more.”
A sudden coolness struck her when he removed his arm and lifted his chest.
“Take a deep breath and exhale,” he ordered.
His oily thumb returned to her puckered hole and pressed down
. Her heart raced, and she tensed. This was the moment.
“Relax, kitten.” He removed his thumb as his slick fingers soothed and massaged the tight area between her cheeks.
“That’s it. Breathe in and out.”
On the next exhale, that devilish thumb pushed inside and tugged at her rim, stretching her opening. Although the foreign invasion stung a little, the sensation that came with it confused and pleasured her. This went beyond the intimacy she knew. A new hunger awoke in her. Instinctively, she tilted her ass up and leaned against him.
She wanted more.
“I can’t wait to take you, but you’re not yet ready for that.” He caressed her as he spoke. “I need to prepare you. And that’s what I’m doing now. Give me another large breath. When you exhale, open your mouth and bear down.”
The moment she did, a strange cool object slipped past her opening and lodged inside her channel.
“Hey,” she exclaimed.
The sudden sharp whack on her ass startled her.
“Safeword or speak on my command,” he thundered.
“I’m sorry, Sir. Won’t happen again.”
“Better not.” He kneaded her burning cheek. “You have a small butt plug inside. It’s meant to stretch you. How does it feel?”
“A little strange, Sir. I preferred your finger.”
“You’re so adorable, so honest.” Joe chuckled. “Next time, I’ll use a bigger size.” He caressed both cheeks at the same time. “I don’t want to hurt you when I take you. Anal penetration is a powerful exchange between partners. It goes beyond sex, and I want you to enjoy the experience to the fullest. Okay. Straighten up.”
Hunter raised her torso. She tightened her internal muscles, testing the peculiar sensation of fullness. She pressed her lips to hide a smile. She felt naughty and decadent, daring even.
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