by Gia Dawn
But before she turned away he made certain she saw him grab the paddle from his chair, a polished piece of ebony, its handle carved to resemble a phallus.
Isabella had to squeeze her legs together to keep from melting into an orgasm as she imagined Zayne sliding that smooth piece of wood inside her, preparing her for the coming invasion of his own mass of flesh. To her dismay she found she could not move, her legs turned traitor at last, until he snapped the paddle on his palm and she jerked to obey.
“Do you remember your safeword?” She nodded as she fell to her knees by the bed. Then Zayne lifted her and pushed her facedown across the mattress, securing each hand to one of the iron canopy posts. “Now you will spread your legs for me.”
Isabella was torn between desire and panic as she did as he commanded. With her hands tied, her legs spread and her ass bared for whatever he intended she felt too exposed and far too vulnerable. “Please touch me,” she whimpered as he settled on the bed beside her.
“Where, my lovely?”
“Anywhere…everywhere.”
“Here?” She cried out when the paddle smacked against her ass hard enough to make her jerk against her bonds. “Or here?” he asked softly, bringing the paddle down on the other side.
She would not beg, she swore to herself, she would not give him the satisfaction. She had the safeword if she needed an escape, but until then he wouldn’t hear her plead for another single thing.
To keep from crying out again Isabella buried her face in the sheet, rubbing her breasts against the bed, hoping to ease some of the sting from her overly engorged nipples. But Zayne grabbed her hair and pulled her up, whipping the paddle down again…and again.
And to her shame Isabella loved every bite of the wood, pain and pleasure mingling into a want so strong she could barely keep from screaming her need.
And still he refused to touch her, to give her any hope of a quick release.
Until she felt him kneel behind her and trail the paddle up the inside of one thigh.
“I can smell you,” he whispered, holding her down with a hand on her back. “Smell how much you want me to take you.”
“Yes. Oh dear God, yes, I want you to take me! Please, Zayne, please I—” She broke off with a shriek of pleasure as he slid the handle of the paddle along her cunt. When it grazed her clit he pressed harder, swirling it over the hard nub of flesh in its torturous clamp until she began to tremble.
But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. She had to feel him thrust inside her, the mass of his cock buried in her cunt, their bodies joined as they climaxed together. Not that Zayne showed any sign of her punishment coming to an end so quickly.
He jostled the chain, the clamps tightening enough to make her squeal again as he moved the handle of the paddle between the cheeks of her ass until it was circling the tiny opening there. “I have never taken a woman here,” he mused, removing the paddle. “But I have watched it done on numerous occasions.”
Isabella shook as he slicked a finger along her slit, getting it wet before sliding it back to her ass once more. A wealth of new sensations burgeoned in her body as she thought of this new and unexplored territory. She actually wanted him to touch her there!
The doctor in her whispered there was no physical reason to refuse—anal play had been around forever and posed no health threat to the body. It was just something she’d never considered might be pleasurable…until now. And with his finger poised to slip through the tight ring of muscle she found herself more than willing to comply, even spreading her legs wider to give him better access.
Zayne stilled when he felt the movement. “Has another man claimed you here?” he demanded, his voice as bleak as a winter storm.
“No,” she whispered, hanging her head. “No man has ever…you know…”
“Fucked your lovely ass?” He moved his hand down to circle her clit, thrumming over the pearl of flesh until Isabella bit her lip to keep from crying out his name. She heard him growl as she began to shake and the paddle came down on the outside of her thigh.
“Not yet.”
She heard a rustle as he put on a condom and this time she did cry out when he dug his cock between her legs and buried it to the hilt. It felt so good to have the length of him inside her, driving in and out, each thrust moving the clamp on her clit, her nipples scraping over the bed, sensation after sensation beating her toward the edge, the orgasm building so quickly she almost forgot about their earlier conversation, until he pressed his finger into her ass, pushing past the clench of muscle that tried to stop the sting of the invasion. Isabella arced from the bed and tried wiggle away, but Zayne wrapped one hand over her shoulder, keeping her from escape as he buried his finger into her ass.
“Stop…please, oh God, I can’t…I can’t,” she begged as Zayne held her down, his cock slamming hard into her cunt as his finger twisted deep into her ass.
“You have a safeword,” he gritted out, sliding his finger free. “Use it if necessary.” This time he took her ass with two fingers, working them into the tiny opening, the pain bringing a sudden rush of tears to her eyes.
But she liked it, she realized in shock, liked the way he tortured her ass, the same way she’d liked the sting of the paddle. It was beyond intense to have him fill her this way, beyond anything she’d experienced with a man before, and she was willing to give him anything he demanded as he brought her to the edge of the cliff, holding her there for long moments as she pleaded and moaned and swore she could not take another second of the agony…
His breath grew as ragged as her own, his thrusts moving faster and deeper as he finally relented and let her come. Her body jerked as she found her release, her sex fisting around his cock until with a groan he ground his hips against hers and climaxed with a rush of sweat and seed.
Then he untied her hands and removed the clamps before he spread out beside her on the bed, his fingers smoothing through her hair, appraising her through half-closed eyes.
“You are remarkable,” he said, thrilling her to the core. “I have never had a woman respond to me the way you do. Thank you.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips, brushing his mouth softly over her knuckles. “But if you will excuse me a moment…” He stood and made his way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
With a sigh born more of disappointment than ire Isabella rose and straightened her clothes, wrapping the cloak around her as she opened the door to find his meal already waiting. Hurriedly, before he could return, she sat the food on the table and took off her mask, placing it carefully upon the bed before she ducked down the hallway and out a back entrance.
She wanted more, she unwillingly admitted. Despite her carefully constructed plans she had grown much too fond of her desert lover. She found herself wanting to ask about his day, what he’d eaten for lunch and dinner, had he been careful with his diet, taken his insulin in the proper dose and on time.
She’d wanted to stay with him tonight while he ate, share even the most trivial conversation…make love again after they’d rested. Sleep beside him and wake up in his arms.
Normal things couples did together—even though they weren’t a couple now and never would be in the future.
You have only yourself to blame, she scoffed in a scathing tone she reserved only for herself. You knew better than to get involved.
So it was time to get uninvolved before she fell so far she could never pick herself back up.
Ignoring the way her heart began cracking she started her car and headed for home. She was on call tomorrow and needed what little sleep she could get.
* * * * *
Feeling lightheaded, Zayne had headed to the bathroom, realizing he had overestimated how physically active he would be that night and his blood sugar had dropped too low. He’d been gone only a couple of minutes but his lovely Silk had fled quickly, leaving him facing a tray of food meant for two, eating alone in the dimness of the room.
He’d wanted her to stay even if she c
ontinued to wear the mask—which was getting to be more of a nuisance than he’d ever imagined. If he thought she would ever forgive him he would rip the cursed thing to shreds and make love to her face-to-face so he could see her every expression as he took her again until she screamed in his arms.
But they could have a conversation, he realized with a jolt as he bit into the thick turkey sandwich. He ate quickly, washing the food down with icy-cold water before retrieving his cell phone and dialing Dr. Seda’s number. He popped a dried fig into his mouth as he waited for her to answer, enjoying the decadent sweetness on his tongue.
“Dr. Seda,” he said, pleased to hear the flutter in her voice when she answered. “I hope I did not call too late or interrupt anything of importance.” He listened to the sharp intake of her breath as she tried to get her thoughts in order. Her voice was still husky with the pleasure they’d shared when she finally managed an answer.
“N-no, Za—uh, Mr. Saladar. What can I do for you tonight?”
Suck me until I tell you to stop. “I was just wondering if you planned to come’—he paused for sinful effect—”to the fundraiser next week. I do not recall receiving a response to my invitation.”
“I am sorry. I haven’t checked my schedule. I am on call some weekends and would hate to run out in the middle of the affair.”
“I assure you I would not take offense.” He sat back in his chair and spread his legs, the scent of her rising like honey from his skin.
“Can I let you know later this week?” He heard her sigh, a lonely sound that hung on the line between them.
“Is everything all right, Doctor?” Zayne sat up straighter, listening for any emotion that might give her thoughts away. She should be basking in the glow of their lovemaking, not sounding as though she had been abandoned. After all, she was the one who’d left his room. He had not demanded it or even given her permission. Then again one could never be certain where a woman’s emotions were concerned.
“Yes, yes of course.”
He could practically see her squaring her shoulders, putting on her bravest face. But he knew she was hurt and it made him angry she was keeping secrets, locking herself away. Then he realized he had done nothing to garner the real Isabella Seda’s trust. A thing he would change in the days ahead.
“I will call you by the end of the week,” she said at last.
“I look forward to it.” He was frowning when she clicked off the line. His lovely doctor needed attention and he vowed to do whatever it took to make her practical side want him just as much as her sensual side already did.
And it was nearing time to rip off the veil between them. As he dressed Zayne came up with a plan he thought would fit his needs perfectly. By the time his driver dropped him back at home for the night the check had been written and the letters sealed, ready to be delivered.
* * * * *
The next week was a nightmare in logistics. Not only was Isabella on call that weekend, one of the other doctors on rotation had gotten sick and she’d volunteered to take over his shifts during the week. It had gotten crazy busy when the flu descended on Charleston like a plague.
Zayne had called her several times, trying to find a time she could meet him for lunch or dinner and discuss the next phase of the Saladar Center’s development. She’d been forced to cancel every meal and she knew he was getting frustrated when she’d done nothing but text him in reply.
The truth was she had finally made up her mind their relationship could not continue—in either manner—and she needed time to get her emotions packed into order before she got the courage to tell him she was determined to pass him off to another doctor.
Plus she’d canceled all her dance performances at the Oasis, knowing she would be at the hospital several of the nights—but most importantly, knowing she couldn’t face Zayne there either.
To her added stress he had sent Silk several messages at the restaurant and Shamal was in a near-panic that she had not shown up to claim the letters he had left. Finally she popped her head in at closing Thursday night, wrapping her face in a scarf and scuttling in and out of the place, barely saying a word to anyone.
A glance in the mirror as she stripped down for a shower near midnight confirmed her worst fears. She looked terrible. Dark circles rimmed her eyes and her hair was so neglected it would take an entire team of stylists to fight it back in place.
She still hadn’t opened Zayne’s letters. They stared at her in accusation as she crawled beneath her sheets, ogling her from their perch on the dresser until she was forced to get back up and tear the damned things open.
Only to wish she hadn’t.
One envelope contained a check for two thousand dollars, the pay-to line left blank, with a request that Silk dance for the fundraising event. The other contained an invitation to meet him at the Red Mask again on Saturday with the added sentence that he was a lonely man without the pleasure of his beautiful dancer’s company.
Mierda. Saladar was not going to make her decision easier or help to soothe her emotions in any way at all.
Swallowing down a groan of self-pity, Isabella considered her options. Two thousand dollars would go a long way to help the food bank, especially for such a small amount of her time. She was probably going to have to show up at the fundraiser anyway and it would be silly to let her indiscretion stand in the way of such a generous donation.
She could manage to avoid Zayne until then, she decided. Since the fundraiser was only another week away it wouldn’t do any harm to wait until after it was over to talk to him about transferring his medical records. It would make it so much easier on both of them, she rationalized.
The tryst at the Red Mask was most definitely out. No way was she crazy enough to spend another night in his arms, not after falling so ridiculously hard for the man. She dialed Madame Brisson’s number and left a message on the machine, feeling her mood tank completely.
But she had a full day at the office in the morning and another night on call so she tucked the letters away and turned off the light, hoping she might actually fall asleep. Luckily she was tired enough that she managed to snooze for a couple of hours before her cell rang and she headed back to the hospital, certain this was justified punishment for her nights of wicked pleasure.
By Saturday morning Isabella was dead on her feet. She napped through lunch and was surly from lack of food by early afternoon so she wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to who was calling when the phone vibrated in her pocket. She nearly bit her tongue when she heard Zayne’s voice, cold and bleak as ocean waves stirred up by a storm.
“Dr. Seda. You will meet me for dinner tonight, six o’clock sharp. If I do not see you then, I will assume you are purposely avoiding me and will take serious offense.”
Oh dear God, she did not need this now. But she didn’t want him to think she was being deliberately rude and she needed to eat. Luckily it looked as though there was enough lull in the action she could take a brief break for dinner. “I’ll meet you at the King Street Grille. It’s just a couple of blocks from Charleston Memorial. Six is fine.”
“Excellent.” He still didn’t sound the least bit happy, she thought as she heard him click off. Well that made two of them. If he wanted a fight he was liable to get one this evening.
She didn’t even bother to check her appearance as she left the hospital and made her way down the street. Rain clouds scudded across the sky, the day as gloomy as her mood. All she needed now was for the sky to open and drench her in an icy rain. Or not, she amended as a cold drop inched down her neck.
Zayne, on the other hand, was immaculately dressed, from his pristine white shirt down to his tight black jeans, his expression closed as she made her way to the table where he sat.
“Good evening,” he said stonily, standing as she sat, his eyes raking over every line of stress on her face. “Are you well, Doctor?” His tone softened somewhat.
“I’m fine.” She sniffed the heady aroma of coffee. “Sme
lls wonderful. May I?” He nodded as she helped herself to a cup. “I’ve been on twenty-four-hour call at the hospital all week. Flu season and we’ve had some doctors come down with the bug.”
“I see. So this is why you have turned down all my invitations.”
“I’m sorry but I’ve barely had time to sleep, much less do anything else. And I can’t be too far away for too long, which is why I asked you to meet me here.”
“Then I shall not take offense.” The grim set to his mouth smoothed itself away. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”
“A nice hot dinner will be quite enough.”
The food was excellent and as they ate they both relaxed, with Zayne describing some of his early adventures. He’d traveled the world extensively, seeing places Isabella had only dreamed of.
He seemed content to talk about his life, so she gathered up her courage and broached the one subject he always seemed to avoid.
“Tell me about your wife.” Isabella folded her hands on the table. “I would love to know more about the woman who is the inspiration behind our magnificent new center. She must have been remarkable.” The stab of jealousy that stuck in her chest was hurriedly thrust out.
Zayne took a long time to answer and she had almost convinced herself she had dug too far into his personal space when he leaned back in his chair and crossed one long leg over the other. But Isabella could read the tension present in every line of his frame, despite his attempt to remain collected.
“She was brilliant. Passionate.” His voice was so soft she had to lean close to hear. “Ours was an arranged marriage but we were both Western-educated and liberal and came to care deeply for each other over time.”
“Was she beautiful?” She’d asked the question without thought and now it hung like a blade between them, sharp enough to make Isabella wish she could vanish from his sight. One of his hands reached out to smooth her hair across her cheek, embarrassment causing her to her to duck her head as she saw the frown that marred his expression.
“Yes…very beautiful.” Another stab of jealousy bit into her heart, this one not so easily turned aside.