His lips narrowed. “You’re not an interloper. You’re a woman who not only needs my protection, you’re also a submissive that I happen to find extremely attractive.” He took a sip of his orange juice. “So that means we need to go over the rules and expectations I’ll have while you’re here.”
Time seemed to stop as she stared at Gabriel in shock. This wasn’t the same man she’d dealt with last night or even the same man who’d delivered Sophie. No, she was no longer dealing with Gabriel Poulanos, the man - she was dealing with Master Gabriel, the Dom. It sent a rush of lust surging through her so strong she was surprised she didn’t come right on the spot. “Rules?” She licked her lips.
Tossing his napkin on his empty plate, he set it to the side and braced himself on his elbows. “Yes. Even if you’re not my submissive…yet… there are always rules when you are staying in someone else’s home. Wouldn’t you agree?”
She nodded, her eyes darting down and to the left as she slowly slipped into the submissive role she played for Ossie. She’d heard this speech more than once, how even as his wife, she was still nothing more than a treasured guest in his home - how she had to abide by his rules or find herself out on the street. She hated to think Gabriel was like Ossie, but with Sebastene after Sophie, she couldn’t afford to go at this on her own. “Of course. Sophie and I are guests in your home.”
He leaned back, a frown crossing his face as if he recognized the sudden shift in her mood. “Look at me, Zhenya.”
Her gaze darted up to face. “What?”
He tugged on his ear so hard she could feel the frustration rolling off him. “I’d really like to know what’s going on inside that head of yours. You just shut down. Don’t deny it, I could feel it.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. “What did you expect? You’re talking about rules which I have to abide by, or find myself and Sophie out on the street.”
His jaw clenched. “I don’t know what the hell you’re insinuating, but I’d no sooner put you on the street than I would my own mother, let alone Sophie. Exactly what kind of man do you think I am?”
Dread filled her as she toyed with her napkin. Had she misread the situation? Was he just wanting to go over some basic rules for how his household ran? The same way he’d told her the playroom was off limits the night before, and how she was sleeping in his room, in his bed for her own protection? She shifted uneasily and finally forced the words past the obstruction in her throat. “I…my husband had rules.”
Gabriel frowned. “Ones that he enforced with threats of abandonment?”
She shrugged. “It wasn’t abandonment. Just if I didn’t behave as he expected in his home, I couldn’t stay there. If I didn’t obey in every aspect, he said he’d treat me like any other sub he’d ever had and rent me by the hour as one would with a whore. I had to earn my right to be his wife.”
“What the fuck kind of man did you marry… and why the hell would you let him treat you like that?”
A bitter smile crossed her face. “Because I was a foolish girl who was swept off her feet at the tender age of nineteen. One who had just begun to explore her sexuality, and didn’t wholly understand the difference between submitting and being treated like a doormat. One that was so overwhelmed by the newness of submitting she didn’t ask the right questions.” She tossed the napkin aside and finally looked up at him. “And the funny thing is, my husband didn’t make me feel a tenth of what you did last night. So forgive me if I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and find myself and my daughter out on the street.”
“Well, it’s not going to happen. I’ll paddle your bottom sooner than I’d toss you out on the street, Zhenya.” He drummed his fingers on the table once more. “But somehow I don’t think it will honestly come down to that. You don’t strike me as a stupid woman. And my rules are mostly common sense. For instance, the first rule - if you need help, ask. Don’t try to take it on by yourself, you could end up getting hurt.” He held up his hand to tick off each rule. “That’s rule one, rule two: you’re to stay in the apartment unless accompanied by me, Jude, or one of Jude’s operatives. You will also sleep in my bed. What are the first two rules?”
She licked her lips before answering. “If I need help, ask. Stay inside unless escorted, and I share your bed at night.”
He nodded. “Good. Number three - I don’t ever want to hear you belittle yourself. You are a beautiful submissive - not a doormat. If I catch you reverting to old habits, I will most definitely punish you the way I did before until you’ll wish I paddled you instead.”
She rubbed her damp palms as what he was inferring sank in. “Number three, no belittling myself.”
“Right.” Satisfaction seemed to ooze from him. “Number four?” He ticked it off with his finger. “If you need pleasure, you will come to me.” He took a deep breath and as he exhaled, she could’ve sworn she heard him growl.
“What?” Shock flowed through her. “What do you mean…”
He placed his hand over hers. “There will be no masturbation in my home - at least not on your part.” He closed his eyes briefly, before opening them once more. “I…I can’t handle seeing your hands on your body or hearing you come without wanting to be the one pleasuring you. Consider it a quirk of mine. I’m a Dom and as such it’s ingrained in me to see to my submissive’s pleasure.” His brow furrowed. “If I catch you, you’ll wish I hadn’t.”
She squeaked. Her mind whirled at the possible consequences. “I will?”
He lifted her hand to his mouth before turning it over to place a kiss against her inner wrist, keeping his eyes on hers the entire time. “Because I’ll prove to you I can make you come harder than you ever could by yourself, and I won’t stop until you can’t lift your head from all the orgasms I’ll wring out of you.”
Sitting with him holding her hand, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to smack him because of his egotistical attitude or whimper because she knew his confidence wasn’t misplaced. She remembered all too well how he could coax every ounce of ecstasy out of her traitorous body. But wasn’t giving control of all her orgasms to him something only a submissive or slave did? “I…but won’t you think I’m offering to be your submissive if I ask you to pleasure me?”
His eyes darkened as his lips parted. She didn’t need the flush across his cheeks to tell he was aroused. “No. That will only occur if you break my last rule.”
She tried to tamp down her body’s response to his. “Your last rule?”
“Yes, I warned you last night about it. It’s the one rule I will not budge on.” He tipped her chin up. “Look at me. Whether you believe it or not, I’m ready to move on. It’s been almost two years since I lost her, and I want you like hell on fire, but I won’t rush you. Just remember all bets are off if you break my last rule. You step inside my playroom and I’ll be so deep inside you, you won’t be able to get me out. And that’s after I’ve readied your body with my toys, my mouth, fingers, and tongue.”
Her breathing was raspy. She wanted to jump up and run to his playroom just so she could experience what he promised, but as Sophie cried out from Gabriel’s room, she pulled her hand free of his. “The playroom is off limits unless I’m ready to be your submissive. I got it.” She scurried down the hall. Whether it was to keep from telling him where to shove his rules… or jumping him, she wasn’t sure.”
* * * *
Sitting at the table, his body tight with pent up desire, and his cock laying hard against his thigh, Gabriel was ready to follow her, toss her on his bed and fuck her until he no longer ached every time he looked at her. His release earlier in the shower had been explosive but hollow at the same time. But his solitary pleasure was a necessary evil if he was going to keep his word to her. After she’d fallen asleep in his arms once more, he’d held her through what had remained of the night, ignoring how his dick had protested. He’d simply enjoyed not only the feel of a woman in his arms once again, but had relished the fact it had been Zhenya - even if it had driven
him nearly insane with lust.
“Fuck.” Cupping his head in his hands, he tried to get his body under control. It cared less that Zhenya was taking her first baby steps back into the lifestyle, and was expecting him to be a Dom worth the title. No his body wanted her, her cries of pleasure, her submission, in fact everything that made up Zhena Addi, and it could care less about what his head was trying to do. All he could remember was how it felt to have her come apart in his arms again. The hint of breast milk against his tongue when he tasted her. The pebbled hardness of her nipples in the faint light of his room as she’d rocked against him. Her muffled cries as she tried to stay silent so she wouldn’t wake Sophie. It made him want to take her to his playroom, which he soundproofed years ago, and work her over until she was screaming his name. But until she decided to make the choice, he couldn’t force her.
A knock on his door, had him rising stiffly from the table and walking to the condo’s entrance. A quick glimpse through the peephole assured him it was a friend, not foe who’d darkened his doorstep. Or at least he thought the diminutive brunette standing in the hall was still a friend. Unlocking the two deadbolts plus chain, he tugged the door open.
“Olivia?”
She turned around, her hand toying with her ever-present crop - a sure sign she wasn’t as calm, cool, and collected as she appeared. “Jude sent me over.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Still hiding behind him? If you’re gonna chew my ass, get it over with…and preferably before Zhenya comes back.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You should be thanking him, instead of antagonizing me. I could’ve easily revoked your membership for your stunt at the club. If it had been any other member, I probably would’ve have, but I’ve known you for too long to kick you to the curb just because you’re struggling with coming back to the land of the living.”
He gritted his teeth. “Get to the point. If you’re not here to take my membership, then why the hell did you show up?”
“To check on Zhenya and Sophie, for one.” She leaned over and tugged a black plastic sack from the other side of the door. “And for two? To bring you this. I wasn’t sure what you had for supplies. Consider it a peace offering.” She handed him the bag with a familiar but discrete logo for the high-end adult shop where Olivia shopped exclusively. Peeking inside the bag, his breath hissed out as he saw the familiar erotically shaped bottles. Lotions, oils and lubricant, along with several slim tapered candles filled the bag. Reaching in, he tugged out the closest bottle, expecting to see his Sara’s favored vanilla oil, but was very relieved to see it wasn’t.
“Aphrodisian Fire Body Oil?” He unscrewed the lid, curious. As he inhaled the blend of sandalwood, roses and something that smelled like a definite hint of ginger, he stilled. Dabbing just a bit on the inside of his wrist, he hissed as it warmed and began burning faintly. It wasn’t a painful burn but one he’d relate more to erotic pain - the kind he enjoyed giving to his sub. He groaned softly as he imagined rubbing this oil into Zhenya’s skin while she was blindfolded on his bondage bed.
“I had the lady who mixed this add more than a drop or two of ginger to give it the heat you’re feeling.” Olivia said softly but with a knowing smile. “I know how you love you textures and everything. You’re a true sensualist….with a bit of sadist in you.”
A slow grin crossed his face, as Zhenya came back down the hall with Sophie cradled in her arms. She frowned as he shoved the bottle back into the black bag. Turning to face her, he watched her expression. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was intrigued by Olivia’s gift.
“Olivia stopped by to check on you, louloúdi mou.” He brushed a kiss to the top of Sophie’s head, delighting when Sophie cooed in response. “Why don’t you take her into the kitchen while I take care of this.” He gave the bag a shake before heading down the hall to his playroom. A plan was forming in his head. It was only a matter of time before Zhenya’s curiosity got the better of her, and she breeched his inner sanctum to assuage her need. When that moment arrived, he wanted everything in place.
Chapter Nineteen
“What do you mean, they got away?” Sebastene drummed his fingers on the table in front of him. He was sitting in some seedy motel a few miles from O’Hare, where he’d expected the man in front of him to deliver his grandson, so he could whisk the child off to his private jet. Cyrille Karas’s orders had been exact, and the man knew what would happen if he failed Sebastene. Or at least he’d thought so. Perhaps he shouldn’t have taken a recommendation from his business partner, Stavros. Maybe he’d have had better results if he’d hired a lackey from the Greek consulate.
Cyrille shifted, his alert eyes bored as he tapped the manila folder he’d been holding against his outer thigh. “Evidently my associates weren’t expecting as much resistance from a lone man and woman as you told me to expect. Or the other man who was visiting the target. It was this man who whisked her and the baby away - before they were able to stop him.”
Making a cutting motion with his hand, Sebastene cut off the rest of the man’s protests. “Enough excuses. I gave you a simple task: To bring my grandson to me. The whore took him from our family without permission. This shouldn’t be so difficult. She’s a lone woman living in a strange city.”
“But she wasn’t alone, Mr. Sikkenga, which is my point. My men were unprepared for the amount of resistance they encountered. She chose her protector well.” Opening the folder, he scanned its contents. “The man she was staying with - Harkahome Akula? He’s ex-military, and definitely not your average former infantry man. My source tells me he still goes up to Fort Sheridan to offer special training in hand-to-hand combat with the National Guard stationed there.” He snapped the folder closed, a frown wrinkling his brow. “You neglected to inform us we were going to be dealing with a trained operative.” His dark eyes smoldered. “Because of this oversight, both of my cousins are in jail at the moment with multiple injuries. It’s going to take some fancy footwork and expensive lawyers to keep both of them from being deported because of your failure to provide us with accurate information about the situation.”
“Fine, I should’ve told you she was staying with one of your toy soldiers…” Unease whispered through him as the man dropped the folder on the desk. As he leaned in toward him, Sebastene instinctively pressed back against the chair he was sitting in.
“This was no mere toy soldier. He was a six foot six, three hundred and twenty pound man who’s forgotten more about killing than most men ever know. I’m lucky to still have my cousins alive. If they’d managed to get a hold of your grandson, he has the necessary skills to track them down and take him back – probably leaving no witnesses alive.”
Swallowing roughly, Sebastene tried to find his voice. “But I was told you were the best in the business.”
Cyrille narrowed his eyes. “I am, which is why this time you’re going to give me every damn scrap of information you have about your daughter-in-law, and leave nothing out this time, or contract or not, I’ll take my payment out of your hide.”
“I…I’ll call the authorities…” Fear wasn’t something Sebastene dealt with well, but sure as the sun rose in the east, it was pumping through his veins, fast and furious. “They’ll arrest you if something happens to me…I’m an important man.”
A slow grin crossed Cyrille’s face. “In Greece maybe…but you’re in America now, Mr. Sikkenga, and your little resort doesn’t mean shit here. Besides what are you going to tell them? You hired a known criminal to kidnap your grandson? Somehow I have a feeling you’ll end up behind bars long before I do. Americans take kidnapping very seriously. Especially since the deaths of those two little girls in Iowa last year.”
When Cyrille straightened and reached inside of his jacket, Sebastene froze until he realized it wasn’t a gun the man was after but merely a pen. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about Zhenya Addi, starting with how you found her this last time. I don’t know if she’ll be stupid enough to make the sam
e mistake twice, but it’s a worth a shot.”
Tugging his monogrammed silk handkerchief from his breast pocket, he dabbed at the sweat beaded on his upper lip. “A prescription in her name. My guy traced it to a pharmacy down the street from the address I gave you. He staked out the pharmacy and followed her home.”
Cyrille scribbled something on the inside of the folder. “Well, now that she’s in the wind, I doubt she’s going to be going back to that pharmacy, but what’s your man’s name? I want to talk to him. Have him give me some more background information you probably didn’t bother to ask about.”
Rattled, Sebastene gave him the number. The man jotted it down before standing and tucking the pen back into his inner pocket. When he stepped towards the desk, curiosity got the better of him. “So what are you going to do?”
Cyrille gave him a dark almost smile before tossing the folder on the desk. “What you’re paying me to do. I’ll have your grandson back to you. But first, there’s a little matter of your mistake.” With a flowing move of speed, Cyrille snared his left wrist in a tight grip, then smiled evilly before slowly breaking two of Sebastene’s fingers. Finally he released him as if nothing more benign than a handshake had occurred.
Tears ran down Sebastene’s face as agony streaked up his arm and his entire hand throbbed. Cradling his injured hand against his chest, Sebastene spat at the other man. “What the fuck was that for?”
Straightening the cuffs of both shirt and jacket, Cyrille eyed him coolly as if he hadn’t just assaulted the other man. “Your stupidity cost me two good men. You’re lucky I didn’t do more than break a couple of fingers.” He picked up the folder from the desk where he’d dropped it, and headed towards the door. “Perhaps next time you’ll think about that before omitting such an important piece of information again.”
Gabriel's Light (Doms of Chicago) Page 15