Masterful 2 (An Erotic Dark Romance)

by Jesse Joren

  Her eyes narrowed to thin green slits, but she pulled her mouth into something like a smile.

  She threw her next words toward Hex.

  "What are you celebrating? Did you finish your case, and you're sending Eva back to us?"

  I could almost read her thoughts.

  Let's see if you're a smartass once you're back at the receptionist desk.

  "We're celebrating Eva completing her degree at Georgia Tech," he said.

  I stared at him. We were?

  "Congratulations," I heard someone say behind Stella.

  Then Phillip St. Claire was at our table. He was as good-looking and well-dressed as his sister, minus the arrogance she wafted like cheap perfume.

  He put out his hand, and I shook it in a daze. Then he glanced past me to Hex, extending his hand a second time.

  "We met on Skype. Phillip St. Claire."

  "Stephen D'Amitri," Hex said. "I was just telling Stella that we won't be able to swap tables."

  Phillip laughed.

  "Did you really ask them to swap?" he asked Stella. "It's just a quick business dinner. The other table is more than fine."

  "Of course," she agreed with a poor show of good grace.

  Her eyes were locked on Hex like a hungry cat appraising a bowl of cream. The brief glance she gave me would have soured that cream and any other within ten feet.

  "You look wonderful, Eva," Phillip said.

  The words were warm and sincere without sounding the least bit like he was perving on me. He definitely got all the class in the family.

  "Thank you. My assignment was hard work, but fun," I said, sensing Hex's little grin.

  "Congrats on finishing your degree," Phillip said. "That's not easy, to work and go to school at the same time. What's your area?"

  "Um, international studies," I said, hoping that really was the case.

  "Good choice," he said. "I'm sure we can find a way to use that talent. When you've finished up down in Miami, let’s talk about your next steps."

  "Of course, we can't pay enough to keep you in designer labels," Stella said with an icy smile.

  So she'd noticed the dress. No surprise.

  "I hope you enjoy dinner, Stella," I told her. "That's a lovely table, I'm sure."

  She turned to leave without another word. I thought I saw her mouth bitch, but it was hard to tell in the low light.

  Phillip chuckled.

  "It will do her good not to get her way," he said. "Nice seeing you both."

  He followed Stella's indignant, retreating back to their table. Hex was looking at me with one eyebrow raised.

  "You were right," I said. "I love my supper, and I haven't even ordered yet."

  His laugh was low and warm, for my ears only. He put his hand over mine.

  "Good. Save room for dessert," he said.

  Somehow I didn't think he was talking about the soufflé.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  "We need to talk about this degree business. Why did you tell Phillip that?" I said to Hex two hours later.

  Dinner had been amazing as promised, topped with the sweet revenge of passing Stella on the way out. Everyone at their table had seemed relaxed and happy except for her.

  Good.

  His eyes were on Peachtree as he zipped in and out of traffic.

  "Because you now have legitimate degree from Georgia Tech in international studies," he said. "Let's just say that you really mastered the topic."

  "You cheated me to a master's degree?"

  "No," he said as we whipped past a white Volvo. "I just cut through a lot of bullshit to get to the final result."

  My mind reeled at the implications. I was a lot of bad things, but a cheater wasn't one of them.

  "I don't want it," I said flatly. "You know how you told me I had to earn my privileges at Walden? This is no different. Same with the penthouse. I don't want gifts."

  "Good. I didn't give you one," he said. "Did you think all those arguments and lessons and readings and quizzes were just to keep you busy?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that I took the liberty of looking at tests exactly as they're given to the students in those classes."

  I didn't need to ask how he had access to supposedly confidential tests.

  "That's not possible," I argued. "Five months at Walden to a master's degree? Come on."

  "You underestimate yourself. Courses are watered down to meet the speed of the slowest student. That's not you. Fit the material to an agile mind, and things go a lot faster."

  My mind turned over what he was saying. It was true that I'd often felt bored in classes, wishing the teacher would just get on with it. But this felt wrong. All wrong.

  The warm feeling of Hex's hand on my thigh brought me back.

  "Don't overthink this," he said. "I'd rather have your devious, beautiful mind on other things right now."

  That certain vibration was back in his voice. Tingles ran a light path up and down my spine.

  "Like what?"

  "Like dessert," he said.

                 

  The penthouse was dark when Hex opened the door. The night lights of Atlanta backlit everything in a soft, silvery glow.

  Hex had a dark shine all his own: tiny pieces of light catching on the brightness of his hair, the sheen of his suit. His eyes seemed to have their own peculiar glow, like the gray-bright eyes of a jungle animal.

  As we'd crossed the lobby, a strange detachment had fallen over him. Even in the elevator he'd stood apart, then opening the penthouse door for me almost formally.

  Now something in his expression made me hug my arms close and back up until the window wall as just behind me.

  "Feeling threatened, Evangeline?" he asked. The shadows in the room couldn't hide his smirk.

  "Maybe a little," I admitted.

  "Good."

  He took off his jacket and threw it over the dark hump of a chair before sitting down on the arm. The semi-darkness only accentuated the rippling lines of his body.

  "This morning you whistled for the Devil," he said. "I'm not tied to a bed or hallucinating now. My mind is very clear, and I know what I want."

  In spite of all the excellent wine and champagne at dinner, my mouth was sandpaper-dry.

  "And what is that?" I asked, although I had a pretty good idea. They were probably close to the same thoughts whirling in my head.

  "I want to see you exactly like I brought you to Walden," he said. "Not wearing a damn thing."

  "Wh-what did you say?"

  I couldn't stop the stammer in my voice. Where was the distant but charming companion of the past half hour?

  "I think you heard me just fine," he said. "Strip."

  There was a time that would have given me a rush of horror, or made me think about jumping out the window. Now I felt a fierce, primal spark that was new to me.

  Hex had a lot of control. That didn't mean I didn't have power too.

  Slowly I reached behind my back to unzip the soft dress from my body. It slithered downward into a shimmering cloud at my feet.

  Some deep, instinctive grace guided me as I slid off the bra and panties, each move deliberate and slow. With a deep breath I pulled myself to stand very straight, dressed in nothing but my ridiculously expensive shoes and the glow of city lights that drifted in from outside.

  "Pretty," he said, but again I heard that husky note in his voice. "I seem to remember a pair of very cute bare feet, not sandals."

  With no effort at all I balanced on one foot, then the other, tugging off the delicate sandals. The new strength and poise in my body kept surprising me in unexpected ways.

  "There's nothing left to peel, unless you want me to cut off my hair," I said with a little grin.

  He stood up and said nothing as he started toward me. His body moved with no sound in the shadow and light, like an animal stalking prey.

  I backed up as he came to me until the cold, smooth
glass pressed against my bare back. Nowhere left to go.

  Hex came to stand in front of me, not touching but close enough to feel the heat of his body.

  "I think this will be fine," he said.

  "Fine for—"

  Then he surged forward, pressing me hard against the glass. He caught my hands as they came up in surprise to ward him off, pressing them over my head.

  "Just like the first night," he said, rubbing against me with slow, suggestive heat. "There were things I wanted to do that night, but I didn't have time. Tonight I do."

  He bent his head as his lips found mine. This wasn't the gentle, insistent kiss that had haunted me since that first night of French at Walden. It wasn't even the long, passionate kisses from last night.

  This kiss was something almost angry and hurtful. I tried to turn my head but his lips followed, crushing my mouth against his before trailing down to my throat.

  "Now you know what was really on my mind that night," he said against my neck. "Tonight I don't have a plan getting in my way."

  He pinned my wrists in one hand against the glass, sliding his free hand down to barely skim my bare body. His fingers pushed between my thighs, seeking and finding the response that had been building there all evening.

  "Less clothes between us tonight too," he said, rubbing with slow, intimate strokes. "Almost like that was done on purpose, huh?"

  A flood of sensation washed over me, a strange déjà vu. His kisses and touch brought back all the sensations of that first night when he invaded my apartment.

  His hands slipped behind me, cupping my ass and squeezing hard, almost lifting me off the floor.

  Sudden hot desire kindled inside of me, just as it had months ago at being restrained against him like this. That night my fear had stopped me, afraid of where it might lead.

  Tonight there was no need to stop myself.

  I pressed against the glass and his hands, wrapping my legs tightly around his hard waist. Through the thin silk of his pants, I could feel the strong, hot beat of his hardness pressed against me.

  "I want you inside of me," I said, wishing my hands were free to work on his zipper.

  His lips nuzzled my ear, sending a thrill through me.

  "Not here," he said. "This deserves a real bed, not a quick stand-up. There might even be a bag with some tricks in there."

  I knew his exaggeratedly evil laugh was done on purpose, but it still had its effect. A shiver went through me that had nothing to do with fear.

  "Don't forget that I have a gun," I said as he began to carry me toward the bedroom.

  He stopped in the hallway to give me another kiss that was half caress, half assault.

  "Your gun didn't do you much good, if I remember right," he said as I regained my breath.

  "I have real bullets now," I said. "Unless you lied to me."

  "They're real," he said, and his white teeth flashed in a grin. "But Eva, how is that going to help you if you're tied up?"

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  The bedroom had more light than the living room, made bright by the light-encrusted streets down below. Hex dumped me on the low, wide bed.

  "Remember this?" he said, pulling up a dark, familiar shape. The bag of tricks.

  "I'll make you a deal," he said. "Close your eyes and pull out something for me to use on you."

  "Tell me again how that's a good deal for me?"

  "Because if you don't," he said, "I'm going to pull out five things, not one."

  I considered myself clever, but somehow I was always a step behind in negotiating with Hex. Or maybe I just didn't want to win.

  He pulled the bag open. It yawned like a black mouth in the dim room.

  "Choose," he said.

  He took my hand as I closed my eyes. For an instant I felt the soft warmth of his lips kissing my fingertips. Then he guided my hand into the depths of the bag.

  "I'm not cheating. Your choice," he said. "But be careful. There are some sharp things in there too."

  My fingers probed the strange contents, feeling my way through the bag. That smooth, semi-hard strip was unquestionably leather. Those cold metal links were some sort of chain.

  Something like tiny metal teeth prickled my skin, moving under my touch. It felt like a wheel to mark pastry or cloth – but I didn't think we were cooking or sewing tonight.

  Oh, hell no.

  Some items were easy to identify, some not so much. Finally I settled on what felt like a small bundle of long, thin cloth strips. Restraints, but they felt soft enough.

  "These," I said as I pulled them out.

  "Chicken," he mocked. "Open your eyes."

  My choice was on the bed. The bundle turned out to be long, cream-colored strips of soft leather.

  "I think I didn't do too bad," I bragged.

  "Maybe you shouldn't take this at face value."

  "What do you mean?"

  "This got hung and came out with your pick."

  Something gleamed with a metallic shine next to the strips. I glared at Hex.

  "I thought this was my choice."

  "Congrats on getting a bonus," he laughed.

  I believed him, but still. It was just my luck.

  "I think I liked having you on the bottom," I grumbled, but it was only half true. I liked having Hex any way I could get him.

  "I plan to be on the bottom," he said, "but that doesn't mean I'm not going to be in control. Stand up and turn around with your back to me."

  Equal parts of thrill and uneasiness blended in me as I presented my back to him.

  "Hands behind your back," he said.

  With slow, firm movements he bound my wrists together with a leather strip. They didn't hurt, but they weren't going anywhere.

  Behind me I heard the swift sounds of clothes being shed. My heart began to pound, then there was silence.

  An instant later I gasped as the tiny little prongs of the wheel touched my bare hip. Hex reached against me, running it over my hips. Gooseflesh rose all over my body.

  "One of the things I like most about the Wartenberg wheel," Hex said, tracing it back and forth, "is how it heightens every sensation. "

  He ran the wheel slowly up over my midriff to trace the lower curves of my breasts. The tiny wheel didn't press hard, but it still seemed to leave a trail of fire across my skin.

  "X marks the spot," he whispered, tracing small, light shapes over my hard nipples. "Here. And here."

  The wheel made its way down again, over my navel and lower to tease the neat little landing strip that Dani had so carefully shaped. The prickling little passes of it brought me up onto my toes.

  Hex pressed against my back, his chest and belly warm and bare and vitally alive. I could feel every ripple of his muscular body, the strength that he wore as casually as his T-shirts and jeans.

  "Feel what you do to me, Eva," he said against the back of my neck, guiding my bound hands to the hardness of his cock. "All of that is for you, if you want it."

  He throbbed in my palms as I slid my hands up and down his smooth length. It was only this morning that I'd had him inside me, but it seemed so long ago.

  "I do want you," I said to the empty air in front of me. "Are you ready for me this time?"

  "Trust me," he said, closing his hand over mine and helping me to stroke him. "I've repeated a lot of mistakes. Not that one."

  He put his hands on my shoulder and turned me to face him. His nakedness seemed to glow around the edges.

  "I think you said you wanted to be on top," he said, backing toward the bed. He laid down and crossed his hands behind his head, grinning at me.

  "Let's see how you take control, Ms. Bright. I'm all yours."

  "Didn't you forget something?" I asked, jerked my head toward my bound arms.

  "Didn't you forget that I said I'm keeping the control?" he said. "You're ready for the advanced class. Get on top."

  You should have picked a nice pair of nipple clamps instead.

  With slow step
s I came to the bed and eased onto it, glad for the new strength I felt in my thighs and ass. Hex made no move to help me as I straddled him with a knee on each side of his waist.

  "I like the ties you picked," he said as he cupped my breasts in both hands. "Tying you like this makes everything very easy to access. Come here."

  Bending from the waist, I let his hands support me as I leaned into him. He lowered me an inch at a time until my nipples were close to his lips.

  "Like I was saying," he said, his warm breath ticking me, "easy access."

  With a slow, firm pressure he pulled first one nipple and then the other between his lips, tonguing and grazing with his teeth. Each tug sent a current down between my legs, making me feel like I was melting.

  The hard ridge of his bare cock pressed against me, spreading the smooth wetness starting to drip from me. I tightened my legs around him, hinting at what I wanted.

  He guided me back to sit upright on him as his fingers trailed down over my breasts and belly. Down and down to find the swollen lips of my pussy, gently prying them apart.

  "This may be a little…intense," he said.

  Against the sensitive, swollen flesh of my clit, I felt the wicked teeth of the little wheel, barely grazing. A deep instinct held me very still in spite of the almost unbearable sensation that was part pleasure, part pain and all arousal.

  Back and forth the little wheel traced. A light sweat sheened my whole body in spite of the cool air. He had it wrong. It wasn't heightening my sensation. It was driving me crazy.

  Hex put the wheel aside and put his hands on my waist, sliding me up until I was straddling his chest. I felt the strength in him as he lifted me higher, higher.

  "Let's see if I can soothe that ache," he whispered against my inner thigh.

  With one smooth motion he pulled me up, his tongue finding my clit with wet, wide strokes. I gasped and almost lost my balance, but he held me firm as he nuzzled and licked. The position held me open wide as he teased the flesh more wickedly that the wheel ever could.

  "How are you liking control, Eva?" he asked from below me.

  "Fine," I gasped, but I didn't feel in control of my own reactions, much less anything else.