HostileTakeover

by Joey W. Hill

  “Didn’t think…you did this.”

  When his fingers stilled, she realized she’d spoken aloud. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Didn’t mean to talk.”

  “I’ll give you a pass on that one. Tell me what you meant.”

  She laid her head on his bare thigh, managed to lever her gaze open enough to see he’d donned a pair of short, clingy boxers. She could see the size of him beneath it, the generous curve of his balls, and she wanted to touch, nip. Squeeze. She took a steadying breath. “I guess…because of how you are, I thought you’d have somebody else handle aftercare.”

  “Hand you off like a serving girl who’s met my needs?”

  “Something like that. Which is kind of a turn-on, the psych…sic…psychology of it.” She fumbled with her thick tongue. “But I like this even better.”

  “I like this too.” He braided her hair into two tails, wrapped them together and used a band to hold them back off her face. Sensing he was gathering his thoughts, she didn’t speak.

  “In the not-too-distant future, I will take you to the K&A boardroom and allow the others to pleasure you there. It’s another little tradition we have.”

  She knew that, thanks to Dana’s provocative description. Savannah and Cass had both experienced the full sensual onslaught of the five K&A men in their boardroom, before either had committed their hearts to their respective Masters. Dana and Rachel had enjoyed it later. For Dana it had been a special birthday present; for Rachel, her first wedding anniversary.

  In the short time Marcie had been working for Ben, she hadn’t had the chance to sneak in and check it out, but from Dana she knew the K&A boardroom had some ingenious engineering, thanks to Jon’s aptitude and the other men’s imaginations. It was the ultimate adult Transformer, the table, screens and cameras able to serve an entirely different purpose when the men desired them to do so.

  “I decided not to do that tonight,” Ben continued. He stroked her hair, a more tender touch that drew her eyes up to his serious face. “For a long time,” he said quietly, holding her gaze, “I rejected the possibility of someone belonging to me totally, of serving me the way I wanted. My demands can be extreme, so I learned to behave as if I didn’t want that. But what I really wanted, always wanted, was someone to belong to me fully. Like this. I wanted to prepare her from head to toe, take care of everything, because you’re mine, entirely. To care for, to punish, to pleasure. This first time, I wanted you to experience that in a more personal space. A space that was mine alone.”

  Her heart cracked open. “What can your slave do for you now?” she whispered.

  “Whatever I demand.” His hands remained gentle, despite the intriguing threat. “But she has a choice to make first.”

  Reaching toward a drawer, he opened it, removed a carved wooden box. When he flipped it open, her heart jumped in her throat and stayed there.

  It was a collar. Simple, elegant stainless steel, with a key-pin-locking mechanism and matching cuffs. She’d seen a variety of more complex and decorative collars, but in a blink she understood that this meshed with the type of Master Ben was. Something that made it clear in no uncertain terms that this was a collar and cuffs for his property, his submissive. There was an etching on each. Three forget-me-nots. As she tilted the collar toward the light, her eyes stung. Always yours was etched on the inside.

  He met her gaze. “Last chance, Marcie. I put these on, you’re mine, irrevocably. You’ve been a student of who and what the K&A men are for a long time. You’re my choice, and that’s forever. You put these on, you take them off only when I give you permission to do so, and that’s probably only going to be for their cleaning and care.”

  Remembering her earlier thoughts, she knew she’d been right. This moment meant as much to her as being presented an engagement ring, the commitment the same. Deeper in some ways, because she knew what it meant to him. While he finally understood and accepted what she was offering, it said he was now demanding it from her.

  Tears were rolling down her face. Seeing them, his mouth softened. She lifted fingers to his lips, touched.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I want to be yours, Ben. It’s what I’ve always wanted. I’ve only been waiting on you.”

  His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Leave it to you to get that little dig in.”

  “Well, you didn’t say I had to be docile and silent.”

  “And if I did?”

  “I will do my very best, Master,” she said prudently. “Unless you prefer me to fall short in that area, in which case I’m certain I can excel at that.”

  Though he chuckled, his response was somber, intent. “You embrace the hard stuff, love it, but I don’t ever want to push you beyond what you can bear, Marcie. You’re going to have to help me learn how to love you. I’ve done a lot of things with women, but that’s one thing I haven’t practiced much.”

  She shook her head. “You’ve been practicing a long time. Savannah, Cass, Dana, Rachel, my younger sisters…Ben, you love all of us. You love Peter, Matt, Lucas and Jon. You’ve looked out for them, been part of our family, no matter what.” She met his gaze. “All those letters…you’ve been winning my heart, loving me, for seven years. I trust you. Please give me your collar, Master. I can’t bear another moment without it.”

  A muscle worked in his jaw. Picking up the collar, he closed it around her throat. It lay lightly on her collarbone but had enough of a weight and a snug enough fit it stole her breath in all the right ways, sent her brain in a hundred different directions, while keeping one part of it very still, very focused.

  His. His. His.

  The cuffs just underscored it. He caressed her pulse beneath them, looked at her like that, all naked but for that mark of ownership. “All right,” he said at last, then lifted her in his arms again.

  He carried her back out into the loft. On this side, the thick plastic curtain was camouflaged by strategically placed screens. Tonight they’d been adjusted so she could still see the equipment, the latex vacuum bed where she’d lain. Turning her attention to the rest of the apartment, she found a king-sized bed on the lower level, piled up with pillows. She assumed that one was his. But he carried her up the stairs to the open room above it, where there was another king-sized bed and a window to look out at the New Orleans’ lights. Putting her arms around his shoulders, she pressed her face into his throat, her lips there.

  “I feel so floaty.”

  “You were gone, baby. Off in subspace. You’re still there. You don’t worry about anything. I’ve got you.”

  He laid her down in the bed, arranged the covers over her. She suppressed a sigh. She didn’t want him to leave, but she knew he didn’t sleep with women, and there was another bed downstairs. Small steps. No. No, she didn’t want that. He’d said to be herself, tell him what she wanted, needed.

  As he moved back toward the stairs, she made a noise and he turned, eyebrow cocked. “What is it, Marcie?”

  “I don’t want you to go. Please…come sleep with me?”

  He gave her a crooked smile, one that made those emerald green eyes an even deeper color. “Where else would I be sleeping, brat? I’m just turning off the light. The downstairs bed is a guest bed. Closer to the kitchen and bathroom.”

  “Oh.” When darkness descended, the lights from the city cast a dim glow over the room. She waited with bated breath until he slid in behind her, lifting her thigh with a firm hand so he could slide his cock between her legs, rest it against her sore pussy, a reminder that she would serve him whenever he desired. But tonight, this was enough. She curved her fingers over his on her breast, glad when he didn’t tell her not to do that. He put his lips against her neck, against that new collar. “Sleep. That’s my last command of the night. Just sleep.”

  She was lost to dreams within minutes.

  * * * * *

  When she woke, it took her a moment to remember—joyously—where she was. But she was alone. Before she could panic over that, she realized two things. On
e, Ben was moving around the kitchen below. Two, she was still wearing his collar and cuffs. A wonderfully familiar aroma was drifting up from the kitchen, but she couldn’t quite place it since it wasn’t a normal breakfast smell.

  Rising, she ran her hands through her hair. She didn’t see clothes for her, not even his shirt, and before she could think about what that meant, he’d realized she was up.

  “No clothes, unless you’re cold. Just the collar and cuffs, Marcie. Come down here.”

  She did, her legs shaking a little from last night’s exertions, and at the reality of what it all meant. Rising in his bed, coming to him as his, first thing in the morning, every day for the rest of her life. He was wearing only a pair of faded jeans, no shirt, and saliva gathered in her mouth just at the sight of him. As he straightened from doing something with the oven, she obeyed her first desire. Her eyes and mouth soft, she walked right into him, put her arms around his waist, pressed her cheek to his bare chest.

  “Good morning, Master,” she said against his skin.

  He slid his arms around her tight, held her that way a long moment, lips in her hair. “Good morning, brat.” Then she gave a little yelp as he hit her bare bottom with the heated spatula. “Go kneel on the pillow by my chair. Going to feed you some breakfast. We have to be in the office in a couple hours for the Chen meet. I assume you’re ready for that?”

  “I will be. Um, if I have clothes.”

  “Much as I’d love to see Chen’s reaction to you sashaying in bare-assed naked, I had Cass pack you another overnight bag. Max brought it last night when he dropped you off. Do you have your Pickard job in the afternoon?”

  She nodded.

  “Tell him not to send you on any more investigative jobs that involve going toe to toe with security thugs or I’ll have his ass.”

  “I handled that guy just fine.”

  “Yeah, you did.” He gave her a bolstering grin, but a sharp look right along with it. “I mean it.”

  She pouted a little bit about that, started working on how she was going to get around it, just as he brought a sizeable piece of warm chocolate cake to the table, not yet iced. He’d brought a bowl of icing to take care of that. She stared at the plate, her mouth now watering for other reasons. “You made me cake.”

  Start every day with chocolate cake. That way, no matter what else happens, the day started with something perfect.

  She lifted her gaze to him. “Are you worried about how the day will end?”

  “Only if you’re not going to be part of it.” He tossed the spatula and the oven mitt onto the counter, then sat down on the chair, swinging his leg over her head so she was kneeling between his spread thighs. Her gaze couldn’t help going downward and thinking about how good that chocolate icing would taste, spread on his cock.

  He tweaked her breast, making her yelp. “Behave, brat. You get sick on icing, it’ll spoil your appetite for the cake.”

  She didn’t think anything could spoil her appetite for the man in front of her. Now all the way through forever. He liked the bad girl in her, would always like that. As much as she liked the bad boy in him. “Yes, Master.”

  “Save your strength. You have a busy day ahead. Tonight, after Pickard, I want you to come back to the office. Bring that mask you wore on the parking deck.”

  She looked up at him, but she had to open her mouth fast for the bite of cake or she would have been wearing it. She gave him a narrow glance as he patted at her lips with a tsking noise. Then the taste hit her. “Oh God. Oh my God. This is as good as sex.”

  When he laughed, it captivated her, the way it made him look younger, happier. She’d missed that side of him. But as he continued, her thoughts went to an entirely different but no less pleasurable place.

  “I turn the car over to the auction tomorrow. So tonight I’m going to fuck you on the hood, exactly the way you were taunting me to do it on that security footage. Then Lewis can have it.”

  She vividly imagined it. Ben, tying her wrists to the rearview mirrors, bending her over the hood in those teetering heels, hand smacking her ass to get it good and red before he rammed into her… She was getting short of breath just thinking of it.

  “Oh, Cass said that your package arrived, whatever that means. She put it in the bag and told me I wasn’t allowed to look.”

  “Oh. Oh.” Marcie brightened, momentarily distracted from lust. As she started to scramble off the pillow, over to the bag, she caught herself just in time. “Master, may I… I have something for you.”

  He gave her a quizzical look, but nodded with warm approval at her remembering to ask permission. It pleased her down to her toes. Then he got a devilish glint in his eyes. “If you do it on your hands and knees.”

  Which she was sure gave him quite a view of her ass and pussy as she moved the few necessary feet to the end of the kitchen counter. Opening the bag, seeing the wrapped package, a tiny smile bloomed in her heart. She loved the K&A women.

  As she came back to him, she noticed he was just as fascinated by how her breasts swayed heavy and full in the all-fours position. During the night, he’d replaced the bar with the nipple rings strung with the emeralds, the ones she’d worn to match her clit piercing. Studying them and the movement of her breasts, he was getting hard and thick again against the jeans. It was obvious from that spread thigh position. They might just be late to that meeting after all. She could hardly wait. But first she wanted to give him this.

  The package was wrapped in paper covered with a toy car pattern, a silver bow on top. He lifted his brow and she grinned. “The night at Surreal…”

  The moment she said the words, his gaze shadowed. She couldn’t stand that. Setting the package at his elbow, she rose on her knees, put one hand on his thigh, the other on his face. “If I have to accept you’re at fault, you have to accept I’ve completely forgiven you. I can’t regret that night, Ben. It resulted in you opening your heart to me. Because of that, I’d go through it again a hundred times.”

  “No, you wouldn’t. I wouldn’t let you. I’d cut off my arms first. Max would shoot me long before that.”

  When he pressed his lips to her eye, her nose, then her throat, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts, she lost her focus. “Stop,” she said breathlessly, laughter in her voice. “I have to give you your gift.”

  “You’re my gift.”

  Extricating herself from him, she snatched the package and thrust it between them. “I actually got this gift to remind you that I forgive you for that night.” Sobering, she put a hand on his chest. “Always.”

  His look twisted her heart. She managed a smile. “Every time you see it, you can decide if I was worth it. Once you put it together, that is. You might need Jon’s help. There’s like a million pieces.”

  She liked his intrigued look, his obvious eagerness to open a gift from her. She couldn’t wait to do Christmas with him. As he tore off the paper, Marcie couldn’t suppress her grin when he recognized it as a model kit for a Mercedes-Benz McLaren Roadster. Cocking that handsome brow at her, he tapped the contents list. “It says ‘glue gun required’. I can think of some interesting things to do with a glue gun.”

  “I’ll bet.” She sat back on her heels, her hands on his knees, but Ben noticed her attention was no longer on her gift. She was in the position she’d been in that first day, climbing over his legs to retrieve his pen, then sitting up between his knees just like this. Her gaze passed with a far more blatant appraisal over his erection before those mink lashes lifted. “Something I can do for you, Mr. O’Callahan?”

  “I think so.” Setting aside the model, he put his hand on her face, touching her mouth, imagining it about to be stretched by his cock, her lips swollen and glistening while her pussy worked itself into the same state, readying itself for him. “You make me come fast enough, you might just get a spanking before you go into work.”

  That was the only incentive she needed. Opening his jeans, she leaned forward, her lips already parted. Ben clo
sed his hand on her shoulder as she teased his head with her tongue, tracing the broad head all the way around, and then doing a little nip-suck maneuver on the top like an ice cream cone, teasing the slit. Jesus…

  She played with him like that for a good few moments until he’d had enough of it and moved his hand to her hair, tightening there. “Take me all the way in, brat. Deep throat.”

  Those sweet lips stretching, that slick, hot throat, so like her cunt, sucking him, tongue playing the throbbing veins on the underside like a damn violin. He thrust up into her mouth, and she made a noise at the stress, but it was a noise of pleasure. She liked it rough, his slave. She wanted icing on his cock, wanted to lick it off. He’d maybe give her that later, but right now he just wanted her sucking on him like this. Then he wanted to fuck her on the kitchen table, feel that wet pussy, that tight ass. Every morning for the rest of his life.

  Her head was moving over him, her fingers digging into his thighs. Those pretty fingers, all that beautiful blonde hair, the delectable ass that he’d watched crawl away from him. God, it tempted him to command her to move around naked and on all fours in their home full time wearing his collar and those cuffs. In that position, he could see the pink lips of her cunt and rosebud of her ass, all of her so accessible and fuckable.

  She brought both hands into it now, gripping him, sliding up, using his pre-cum to slick him up. She was devouring him, making animal noises in her throat. She knew how to give head like a pro, but it was all for him, her Master.

  “Get up here.” A lifetime of fucking women’s asses, but now, he wanted her face-to-face. Wanted to be deep in her pussy, wanted to be staring into her eyes. It took her breath away, he could tell, the way he lifted her straight up off the floor, biceps flexing, to set her on his lap, make her straddle his cock. It took some angling, because of his size, but then he had her locked on, working her down that well-greased pole. Her mouth was slick from it, and he brought her to his lips, suckling and biting on it, tasting himself and her.