Naked Games

by Anne Rainey

  She waited next to the chair, knowing he would need to give her permission before she took her seat. It pricked her feminine pride, and Dean’s grin told her he knew it. He took his time, looked her over, slowly, as if committing every curve and valley to memory, then smiled. “I had a feeling you’d look beautiful in that nightgown.”

  She plucked at the expensive material and asked, “When did you have time to go shopping?”

  “Today.”

  “It must have been expensive though,” Catherine said, feeling a little giddy that he’d gone shopping for her.

  He pointed to the chair across from him and said, “Have a seat, sweetheart.”

  Catherine crossed her arms over her chest and stayed rooted to the spot. “I’m not real hungry, thanks.”

  He smiled for the briefest of moments, but he swiftly schooled his expression. “Don’t force me to come over there and get you. The riding crop is only a few feet away.”

  Catherine wasn’t going to think of him using that thing on her, because when she did her body responded with excitement. Instead, she stayed where she was and quirked a brow at him, egging him on the way a very naughty sub might.

  “You need food, Catherine,” he said in a softer tone. “If you pass out on me, it’ll put a real cramp in the evening’s fun, don’t you think?”

  Forgetting the role she was supposed to be playing, Catherine said, “I’m going to need my energy, is that it?”

  “Definitely,” he growled. “Lots and lots of energy.”

  Catherine dropped her arms and sat in the chair. She tucked her gown around her legs, hoping to maintain at least a modicum of modesty. Dean picked up his napkin, placed it across his lap, and began to eat what appeared to be some sort of stew. Catherine inhaled the rich aroma and her stomach growled obscenely. She blushed.

  One corner of his mouth tilted up, indicating he’d heard her body’s plea for food. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”

  She didn’t much care for the way he told her what to do. One half of her got annoyed at being ordered about, while the other half seemed aroused by it.

  Catherine picked up her spoon and took a small bite, but when the steaming hot liquid burned her tongue, she dropped it back into the bowl. “It’s too hot,” she mumbled as she frowned at him.

  Dean’s heated gaze held her in place as he stared at her mouth. He leaned forward and picked up her spoon, then scooped up some of the stew. She watched, helplessly mesmerized as he blew on it, all the while his gaze never leaving her face. When he was satisfied, he held it to her lips and ordered, “Open up, Catherine.”

  She did.

  It was odd to have a man feed her. Somehow, the act seemed more intimate than having sex. Catherine chewed the bits of meat and vegetables and swallowed, surprised when he leaned forward and wiped at a drop of beef broth from her lips. He brought the droplet to his own mouth and sucked it off. Her body thrummed to life.

  They finished the rest of their meal in silence. Catherine suspected he was giving her time to prepare for what was yet to come. She was just glad to have food in her belly. It was strange how hungry she’d been. She’d eaten lunch with Gracie, but she’d been too nervous about the evening to come to eat more than a few bites of grilled chicken and a side salad. Now the food and the silence had the affect of calming her nerves. When Catherine dared to glance at him, watching as he bit off a piece of French bread, she knew she was in big trouble. Becoming woefully attracted to a man she was going to have to leave tomorrow wasn’t the smartest thing she’d ever done.

  Suddenly, Dean swiped the napkin across his mouth and shoved back his chair. Towering over her, he reached out a hand to her and asked, “Ready?”

  Catherine gulped back a bit of stew. “Ready for what, exactly?”

  “To be my little submissive,” he murmured.

  Oh, God, why did that make her pussy throb with pleasure? “You’re awfully familiar with this sort of thing,” she said, hoping to get her mind off her raging hormones. “Why is that, I wonder?”

  “You ask a lot of questions,” he said around a grin. “Let me ask you one this time. Did you enjoy the riding crop?”

  Catherine stayed silent. No way was she giving him that kind of information.

  “I think you did,” he murmured as he stepped closer to her. She could feel his breath against her cheek, and she shivered. “Actually, I think you were frustrated that I stopped so suddenly. Isn’t that the truth, sweetheart?”

  “Maybe,” she said, neither confirming nor denying.

  “Mmm,” he whispered as his lips barely grazed the skin of her left cheek.

  The small contact had Catherine ready to explode. Dean lifted away, and she could see that the touch affected him just as much. It helped to know that she wasn’t the only one insane with need.

  “You can keep your little secret for now,” he said. “We’ll get to the riding crop soon enough.”

  When he turned and left the room, leaving her to either stay seated or follow, Catherine froze. Following would be daring and not at all levelheaded, but wasn’t that at least half the reason she was here? Dean made every single one of her senses stand up and take notice. Quite possibly, he would be her ultimate adventure.

  When she started to get up to follow, Dean reappeared. “You have a terrible time obeying, don’t you?” Before she could reply, he leaned down and plucked her out of the chair, then slung her over his shoulder.

  “Dean!” Catherine yelled as she swatted his back. It was no use, though, because that part of his body was like the rest of him, hard as a rock. He was too big, too strong, and the arm holding her in place didn’t budge an inch. “You really need to stop carting me around. Seriously!”

  “Master,” he murmured. “You keep forgetting that part, sweetheart.”

  When he set her back on her feet, Catherine was once again in Dean’s bedroom. His gaze scorched a path over her body. “Master,” she said, using the word more as an insult than a sign of respect.

  He chuckled. “Call me what you want. It doesn’t matter.”

  Her eyes widened at that morsel of news. “It doesn’t?”

  He shook his head. “All that matters is you and me,” he whispered. “I want you. Hell, I think I’ve wanted you forever. And you want me too, or you wouldn’t still be here playing this game.”

  Her gaze darted away from his. She couldn’t bear for him to see how much she truly did want him. How much she loved him. She trembled as Dean stroked a finger down between her cleavage and said, “So sweet and soft. I’m on fire for you, Catherine. Only you.”

  Her pulse quickened at the candid statement. He placed a clenched fist under her chin and forced her to look at him. It seemed he refused to let her hide from him. “Say it,” he murmured.

  “Yes, only you,” she said, using the same words he’d used for her.

  Dean groaned, then his lips pressed against hers. He didn’t caress her with tender touches. Instead he was rough and eager as he drank her in. It still wasn’t enough for Catherine. His tongue demanded entrance inside the hot cavern of her mouth, and Catherine gladly let him in. There was never any other choice. Desire warred with common sense, and desire came out the victor.

  “You taste feminine, like the most delicate flower, especially when you surrender so beautifully for me,” he whispered against her mouth.

  His romantic words had her heart doing backflips. Catherine wound her arms around his neck and whimpered when he pulled her body in tight against his. His hard cock pushed against her belly and passion sizzled in her veins.

  Dean left her mouth and traveled kisses over her chin, then her neck, where he took his time nibbling and sucking. Catherine felt his heavy erection harden even more and she couldn’t catch her breath. “Don’t make me wait another minute, Dean,” she shamelessly begged. “Please.”

  “Screw the game,” he muttered as he covered her mouth once more.

  Hallelujah, Catherine thought with a satisfied smile.

>   26

  Catherine dragged herself out of the pleasurable haze Dean so effortlessly wove around her and peered up at him. He looked edgy and wild. It was scary and exciting, and she wanted to feel all that untamed strength between her thighs. She shouldn’t give in to him so easily. She knew that, but she had no defenses where Dean was concerned. She hadn’t from the beginning.

  “More,” she whispered against his voracious mouth.

  He pulled back, and she witnessed the surprise in his eyes, and something else she couldn’t quite put a finger on. He quickly masked it and kissed her again. The second meeting of lips was every bit as urgent as the first.

  Bending low, Dean picked her up and placed her on the bed. “You won’t regret a second you spend with me,” he said as he straightened. “I’m going to make you feel so damn good tonight.”

  She hid her face in his chest in her hands and mumbled, “I think I already regret it.”

  She felt strong fingers prying her hands away. When Catherine opened her eyes, Dean was staring down at her with a frown marring his darkly handsome features. “What did you say?”

  “I figure I must need my head examined, Dean,” she said, as her frustration over their situation mounted. “I’m leaving tomorrow. What are we doing? How is this going to work? How could we possibly work? It makes no sense at all.” It mattered little to her libido, but her head and heart were beginning to thing she was certifiable.

  He lay down next to her and propped his head on his hand, then touched her cheek with his index finger. “Catherine, I love you. You love me. What we’re doing right now is the only thing that does make sense. No matter where you go, my feelings for you won’t change.”

  There wasn’t a chance for Catherine to reply or even give his statement the consideration it deserved. Too quickly he stood up and untied the belt holding his robe closed. He pushed it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor in a black heap.

  “God, I love looking at you,” she admitted as Dean’s tall, broad-shouldered body was bared to her. Every inch of him was powerful and masculine. He was stunningly naked, and his cock jutted out, swollen and pulsing.

  “Touch me,” he bit out.

  Ah, he was back in command mode, Catherine realized. It was in the harsh tone of his voice and his compelling, watchful gaze. Still as a statue, hands at his sides, Dean waited for her to obey. It was her move. The only sign of agitation was the clenching of his fists at his sides.

  Every fiber in her being sat up and took notice. All of a sudden, she ached to surrender to him. She wanted to prove to him that she trusted him, unconditionally.

  Catherine reached a hand out and touched his stomach, anxious to feel his ripped abdominal muscles against her fingertips. Her palm flattened out and massaged over his bulging muscles and wide rib cage. His chest received equal attention. Her fingers sifted through the sprinkling of curls she discovered there. She flicked his left nipple, and he jolted. Catherine’s pussy grew damp at the knowledge that she had the power to make such a strong man jump at the barest of touches.

  Dean grabbed her wrist, his warm brown gaze capturing hers while he pushed her hand down his body. “You know what I want,” he gritted out. “Hold my dick in that silky-soft palm, Catherine.”

  Catherine had a sudden flash back to the book, when Mira had pushed her master to the breaking point. Should she push Dean? It might be the dumbest thing she’d ever done, but Catherine didn’t want to make it easy, not for either of them. Not tonight. She wanted Dean to capture her, to take her rough and wild, the way Mira’s master had done in the story. It was their last night together, Catherine thought. It only made sense to make every attempt to drive the man crazy.

  With that single thought in Catherine’s mind, she asked, “What if I don’t?”

  His eyes narrowed and a muscle jumped in his rigid jaw. “What?”

  She cocked her head to the side. “Maybe I don’t feel like touching your cock.”

  One side of his mouth kicked up. “I bet I could make you want to,” he whispered as he released her hand and took a step back, putting a measure of distance between them. “Move off the bed and get on all fours in front of me,” he softly demanded.

  Oops, maybe she’d pushed too far. After all, they both knew that sex games were way out of her range of expertise. She was a simple Southern girl. How was she supposed to give a man like Dean the erotic night he craved?

  “Do you need another taste of the riding crop?”

  His scandalous words fluttered around in her brain, and Catherine took a second too long to obey. When she got off the bed and started to get down on her hands and knees as Dean instructed, she was surprised to see him walking off. He went to the far corner of the room, and Catherine saw him pick up the leather whip. Her pussy throbbed knowing what would happen next. Dean came back to her and held it at his side, his nostrils flaring as he looked her over from head to toe. Catherine’s body came to life everywhere his gaze roamed.

  “Will you take my cock in your hand, sweetheart?”

  “No,” Catherine said, knowing full well he would punish her. “I don’t think I will.”

  For an instant, Dean’s implacable mask slipped. “I’d never cause you pain, Catherine,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Only a little sting, nothing more.”

  Catherine’s heart melted. Even when he was wildly turned on, Dean still sought to reassure her, to comfort her. Her mouth went dry and her throat felt tight when she thought of how much she loved him in that moment. Nervous and even a little scared, Catherine turned her head and murmured, “I know.” A naughty grin crossed her face for a moment before she contained it.

  Dean licked his lips and growled, “God, you’re amazing.”

  Catherine didn’t reply. She simply turned her head away and waited. She began to lose her nerve when she felt the first strike of the leather. She jerked and her bottom stung. On the heels of that one came another and another. Dean spanked her four more times before he stopped and said, “Mmm, your ass is all pink now, Catherine.” He ran his palm over each cheek, massaging away the sting. “So pink and so damn fuckable.”

  An inferno raged inside of Catherine. She was desperate to feel Dean’s cock stretching and filling her. “P-please, I need you.”

  “Turn around and face me,” he gently ordered.

  Catherine was too turned on to disobey. As she turned around she was faced with a rough and dominating side of Dean. He was ready to take her to new heights of carnal pleasures, and she was more than ready to be taken. He gripped the riding crop in his right hand and stroked her cheek with it. Catherine froze as the leather slid down over her shoulder to her arm. When Dean used the whip to caress her breasts, Catherine moaned.

  “Ah, that’s so damn pretty,” he groaned. “Now, touch yourself for me.”

  Catherine’s pussy was sopping wet, and she was more than happy to do as she was told. She reached between her legs and smoothed her fingers over her clit, her gaze riveted to his heavy erection the entire time. Dean’s cock was thick and hard.

  “Fuck, yeah, you look so damn good like that,” he gritted out.

  She bent her head backward to see his face, mesmerized by the feral savagery she witnessed. He looked ready to explode. As she moved her hand over her swollen mound and started to smooth two fingers into her tight opening, Dean gripped a handful of her hair and tugged her head forward, forcing her to look at him. “No more playing, sweets.” She kept her fingers where they were, and Dean growled, “Enough.”

  Catherine pulled her hand away and frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I want your mouth,” he explained. “Suck my dick, sweetheart.”

  Catherine desperately wanted her tongue on him—she loved the taste of Dean’s cock—but she was annoyed that he wasn’t allowing her a few more minutes to play. Besides, how much fun would it be if he didn’t have to work a little for the prize?

  With the single thought of making Dean as hungry for her as she wa
s for him, Catherine got to her feet and quickly sidestepped him. When he called her name, Catherine smiled and kept walking.

  Dean couldn’t believe Catherine had the nerve to stand up and walk out. He could drive a nail with the rigid length of his dick, for Christ’s sake. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he asked as he went after her.

  She shrugged. “I’m thirsty.”

  Dean smiled as realization dawned. She wanted him to chase her, the way Mira had forced her master to go after her. “It’s going to be such a pleasure punishing you.”

  He heard her laugh. In a few long strides, Dean caught up to her just as she reached the fridge. He swung her around. “As I see it, the only way to make sure you stay put is if I tie your sexy ass to my bed.”

  Catherine’s emerald gaze widened. “Uh, Dean, I don’t know about this.”

  “I do,” Dean whispered as he lifted her into his arms and brought her back into his bedroom. After he dropped her onto his bed, Dean held her down with one hand and got on top of her, straddling her waist. He wasn’t about to give her a chance to escape him again.

  He leaned down and murmured, “Now, where were we?” His gaze took in the swollen temptation of her lips. “Oh, yeah, your pretty mouth,” he said as he dipped his head and kissed her, tasting her sweetness. Dean felt his self-control going up in smoke. Catherine lit his body on fire with her addicting flavor.

  He licked her bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth, nibbling at it. She arched up and moaned, as if ready to plead for him to fuck her. Dean wanted to. Hard. Slow. Both. She would give it to him; he knew it in his bones. Instead, he looked around for something to tie her down with and spotted the belt from his robe hanging off the edge of the bed. He picked it up and wrapped the silk securely over her wrists before tying it to the headboard.