The Seller (Trading Hearts Book 2)

by Saskia Walker

  Oh yes, she's perfection. He pushed back his chair, making space between them, and nodded.

  She dropped to her knees. She looked so beautiful. Her arousal was blatant, her lips parted, her pupils dilated. Strands of her hair had fallen free from where it was clipped back.

  She pulled at his jockey shorts and hummed with approval when his cock bounced free, long and hard and ready for her. She looked his way.

  "Are you worried someone will see you going down on me?" He didn't think she was, but he wanted to push the question to the front of her thoughts.

  "No" The look in her eyes was brazen. Her orgasm had freed her. "I don't care. In fact…I like the idea of being seen with you."

  A dark thrill ran through his veins.

  She put her hands on his knees and stretched up to kiss him, her lips soft and lush, tender beneath his. She smelled of musk and sex and life.

  Her fingers moved across his thigh to his cock and wrapped around it where it reared up from his shorts. She drew back, breaking the kiss, and another wave of lust pooled in his groin as her head dropped towards his lap, her lips parting.

  He mouthed a silent curse as her lovely mouth closed over the engorged head of his cock. Her lips molded over its swollen tip, slowly sinking onto it, then her tongue swept over the underside of his crown while her fingers reached for his balls.

  His hands fisted against the seat when she took it deep into her mouth, riding it in and out, her moves threatening to make him come far too quickly.

  "Stop. I have to be inside you."

  Her gorgeous green eyes were bright with pleasure.

  He was desperate for her, angling his hips on the seat. "I want to feel you here, now." He pulled a condom from his pocket, his hands near useless as he tore it open. He managed to roll it on, one hand closing tight around his shaft, the other reaching for her.

  She hauled her skirt up, anchoring it around her hips, and kicked off her shoes. Her perfume, heavy with musk and honeysuckle, was tempered with smell of her sex, as intoxicating as nectar to him. She straddled him, her legs either side of the seat, her thighs enclosing his hips. She rubbed against the hard surface of his cock, catching the sensitive skin on the underside. She was wet, like honey, and his cock slid up against her clitoris, the full head of it rolling against the swollen nub. As she lowered onto his straining erection he rested his hands around her waist, wanting to hold her, force her down.

  He breathed out loudly. Each sensation was inexorably tortuous and pleasurable. She led the head of his cock to her and let it press home. A flush of arousal marked her face and neck. Demand throbbed inside him and his hands locked on her waist. The pull of her body on his cock was exquisite. He groaned, his head going back. He closed his eyes, savoring the pleasure of his cock thrusting up inside her tight sheath and he moved his hands from her waist over her breasts and up into her hair as it fell against him.

  "Naomi. Oh, Naomi."

  She began to ride his shaft in regular movements, gripping the back of the seat and freed her movements, grinding with determination.

  "Oh yes." He sprawled on the seat, his hands resting on the bunched fabric of her skirt around her hips while she rode him with abandon, looking down at him with passion in her eyes.

  She stroked his hair. Her mouth opened as she rocked slightly and massaged the head of his cock deep inside her. He cupped her buttocks and leaned his face into her chest, every moment sending him closer to the edge. He wanted to lock her body to his. He held on, battling with his self-control – he was going to come and he wanted to wait for her. He felt her begin to reach.

  "You fill me," she whispered, leaning over his face, breathing the words into his ear. He swelled further inside her at her words, his cock rigid, his balls locked in an iron grip. She tilted her hips higher, clutching at him with her strong inner muscles. Her head dipped back. "There's a man looking at us, watching me fuck you."

  Lucas didn't care if it was true or not, it was her reaction to the concept that fascinated him. "He's jealous. He wishes he was in my place."

  She tossed her hair, laughing aloud, and worked herself up and down on him more wildly.

  She liked the idea of an audience. It was what he needed to know. He was sweating from the intensity of the thumping orgasm building in his balls. "Oh sweet Naomi," he said, "I'm going to come."

  She flexed her back and worked her hips faster.

  He felt her cunt clamp.

  When his cock began to reach, he crushed his face into her breasts and her arms enclosed his head there. He held her tightly and they did not separate, coming violently in unison.

  Lucas caught his breath, and glanced back over his shoulder.

  A curtain twitched shut.

  There had been someone. And Naomi hadn't cared.

  Chapter Five

  Lucas had instructed her to act as if it were a normal week during the daytime. That was nigh on impossible for Naomi. How could she be normal when she knew she was meeting Lucas Eaglestone at the end of each workday? The fact he was so close by tortured her. Close enough to run to, yet he set invisible boundaries. Did he know how much it tormented her? Probably.

  They both had jobs to do though, responsibilities. She did try, busying herself in the shop, adding details to the ideas sketchpad she kept under the counter. But Lucas's presence hovered nearby all the time, constantly making desire pump through her veins.

  Questions circled her mind, questions about Georgio Melandros, the buyer for the Eaglestone agency, and the potential of starting over with her business plans. Would it be possible? Could she allow herself to believe Lucas would stay out of it? Her need to trust him was also marred by the feeling she was selling out somehow, and yet she couldn't afford to toss away the opportunity of top representation when she and her family had put so much into the business. It seemed to make the days apart even longer when her moods swung between elation and doubt, trust and fear.

  Desire always won out as the clock ticked closer to their rendezvous. Whatever her doubts she couldn't stop herself going to him – couldn't stop herself longing for his dominance, for his guiding hand in their physical affair.

  Late on Wednesday afternoon, when she was about to leave the shop in Megan's hands and nip off to get ready for her evening with Lucas, a bouquet of red roses was delivered.

  "Oh I wonder who those are from…not," Megan teased as she accepted the delivery. "Naomi Kildare," she read off the card. "I guess they're for you." She chuckled as she handed the card over then buried her face in the flowers, humming as she did so.

  Naomi tore the envelope open. Inside was a small oblong of parchment colored card.

  I'll collect you at six. We're going shopping. Lucas.

  "What does it say?" Megan quizzed, as she took the tissue off the bouquet.

  "He's taking me shopping…at six."

  "Six? There won't be much open after six, not midweek." Megan frowned then wandered off to the back of the shop to find a vase.

  The mystery of the shopping trip remained until Lucas arrived.

  Six on the dot and a black chauffeur driven car pulled up at the door to Drusilla's. Lucas stepped out of the car.

  Megan urged Naomi out. "You look wonderful, stop fussing."

  Naomi picked up her clutch purse and looked out at Lucas. He stood by the taxi door, holding it open for her. Devastatingly handsome, tall and distinguished, he was a hard man to ignore. Was she really involved with him? Her breathing faltered as she swallowed down niggling doubts and fears and went to him.

  "You look beautiful, as always." He kissed her then helped her into the car.

  It was highly appointed, plush leather seats and a mirrored glass screen between them and the driver. She glanced at the company name etched into one corner of the glass screen. It was a local company, she recognized it as an Edinburgh group who ran taxis and hire cars and the like. Lucas didn't take long to find his way around a new city.

  The scent of Lucas's cologne locked her
attention to him as he slid in beside her. His black hair had been ruffled by the breeze. There was a roughish look in his eyes as he smiled her way. In the dim lighting of the interior of the car he looked so handsome. The crisp white collar of his open neck shirt looked stark between his skin and the black of his suit jacket.

  As the car pulled away Lucas reached over and clicked her set belt into position before doing his own. She'd been so spellbound by him she'd forgotten.

  "Where are we going?"

  He took her hands, clasped them in his, and examined her wrists, stroking the soft skin there with his thumbs as if warming it. He didn't look away from her wrists as he spoke. "To buy you some suitable bondage, something bespoke and unique to you." He met her transfixed stare. "Something you choose for yourself."

  "Me?" Her heart raced. "I wouldn't know what to choose." She lowered her eyelids, embarrassed. Or where to buy it from, she silently added, with no small amount of panic. Would he expect her to be sophisticated and knowing? She didn't have the first clue.

  Lucas laughed softly. "You'll know. It's an intimate item and you'll be drawn to something that speaks to you."

  "Is that how it works?"

  "I think so, but we'll soon see." He looked out of the window.

  The car slowed down. They were still in the heart of Edinburgh, on a side street close to the Royal Mile, less than half a mile from her own shop. The car parked along the curb. Quick as a flash Lucas was out and at her door, opening it for her. Nervously she climbed out, glancing around.

  "Ready to shop?" Lucas asked as the car departed.

  Naomi laughed softly. It was such an incongruous question, especially if they were about to view what he called bespoke bondage. "I guess so."

  She tried to gain knowledge of her whereabouts. They were standing on a narrow cobbled pavement outside a silversmith shop. The sign on the door indicated the shop was closed.

  Lucas pressed a buzzer at the side of the door.

  Naomi had often passed the little jewelry shop on foot. It looked no different to any other silversmiths. Did they really sell bondage gear? Excitement lit her blood. Lucas looked quietly sure of what he was doing, in control. She reached for his hand.

  A few moments later, a tall guy in charcoal colored clothing unlocked the door. He had multiple piercings and a tattoo covered one side of his shaved head. The leather apron he wore over his clothes was well worn, and key chains and tools hung from his wide leather belt.

  "Lucas?" the guy asked when he opened the door.

  Lucas put out his hand and the silversmith shook it firmly and then ushered them inside.

  He smiled at Naomi in welcome. "Go through to the back," he said, while he locked the door behind them.

  As she passed him by, she realized she knew the guy from somewhere, but couldn't immediately place it.

  The shop was even smaller than hers and crammed with display cases. The overhead lights bounced back off polished metal souvenirs, numerous silver trinkets and jewelry. And bondage out the back, how intriguing. Naomi wondered how on earth Lucas had found the place. She was beginning to get used his style though – if Lucas wanted bespoke bondage, he'd find it. He seemed able to click his fingers and have anything happen.

  The question vanished from her mind rapidly when she entered the room at the back. Part workshop and part display area, the room was lined with display cabinets filled with intriguing items that stimulated both mind and body. The cases were mounted on the walls and stood atop high benches around the room. Her attention flitted from one to the other, landing on stainless steel dildos, manacles and collars, her pulse rate increasing as she took in the sight of bondage and sex toys galore. It was a feast for the curious lover and she was ready to explore.

  "Take a good look around. I'm just tidying up." The silversmith headed to a workbench at the far end of the space. It stood up against a wall heavily hung with tools, chains, padlocks and intriguing bits of metalwork.

  Lucas stood back, as if allowing her to lead. His eyes were hooded, his attention fully on her. Naomi smiled. He intended to observe her every move and reaction while she looked at the kinky items, she knew it, and he'd sense when she was getting turned on. The thought excited her immensely. He looked so gorgeous. His fitted suit and nonchalant pose in the unusual surroundings made him look like a still from a film noir. His black hair had fallen forward, casting his face in shadow. Is he really my lover? She could scarcely drag her attention of him, despite the room full of goodies.

  "Take your time," he encouraged. "Find something you like."

  Tentatively she walked along the benches, resting her fingertips against the solid wood of the display cases to ground her. The display cabinets mounted on the walls housed nipple clamps and collars. Some of the collars were metal, others leather and metal combined. Every piece was beautifully designed and made. In the table top displays she saw all manner of things, some of which she couldn't even discern the function of. The specialty appeared to be cuffs.

  From the simple to the exotic, the cuffs ranged from simple chain to ornate fretwork set with gemstones. Others were punky black leather studded with metal. Each item she looked at triggered a deep sexual response, fuelling a series of erotic images in her mind – images of herself in bondage while Lucas took charge of her.

  She glanced back at him. His watchful stare heated her from the inside out. It was obvious he knew what she was thinking about. That made it worse. Between her thighs, an anxious pulse was steadily gaining speed. Her clothes felt tight and restrictive, her nipples chaffing inside her bra. Her panties were clinging to her groove, the damp heat that was building there drawing the sheer lace garment close against her sensitive, aroused skin. If she was already this horny, how was she going to get through dinner without begging him to fuck her first?

  Then she noticed the silversmith was leaning up against his workbench, watching the interaction between them. It amused her. He probably saw this sort of thing all the time, couples getting hot imagining what they'd get up to later on. Forcing her attention back to the display cabinets, she took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. When she looked at the item in the next case she drew to a sudden halt.

  There in the cabinet, a pair of cuffs captured her attention completely – polished metal casings for the forearms. It made her think of Joan of Arc, armor, strength and resilience.

  "The Willing Slave," the silversmith commented when he saw the item she was looking at. "Polished stainless steel lined with velvet."

  The willing slave. How appropriate that was. She was Lucas's willing slave, no matter how much she tried to hang onto the real world. It was too tempting to slip under his spell and into the lure of the unknown, the only guarantee being immense pleasure at his command.

  She stared at the forearm cuffs, imagining what it would be like to wear them. They would run from elbow to wrist. If they were latched together, as they were in the display case, she would be powerless, unable even to rattle the chain on a set of handcuffs. She imagined drawing her encased forearms up to her naked breasts, feeling the cool stainless steel against her bare skin, while other parts of her were inflamed and hot from Lucas's attentions.

  "Do you like them?" Lucas was there at her side.

  She felt the touch of his hand on her back. Instinctively, she pressed back against him, acknowledging the contact. Turning to look up at him, she saw the fire in his eyes. "Do you?"

  He smiled knowingly then looked over at the silversmith. "May we try these?"

  The jeweler strolled over, unlatched a long key chain from his belt and unlocked the cabinet. He lifted out the steel cuffs and pressed a release button to flip them open. Each arm was made of two pieces of metal hinged on the outside. The two panels latched together when closed. They were lined with black velvet.

  Naomi rested her forearms into the velvet lining and Lucas closed the panels, clicking them together to lock them. With effort, Naomi dragged her attention away from the look of Lucas's large m
ale hands over her encased forearms, and met his gaze. He nodded. It was almost imperceptible, but the agreement was there.

  He lifted her entrapped hands to his lips and kissed her fingertips, first on one hand then the other. Naomi trembled. It was all there in his eyes – the heat, the promise, the desire, and the admiration.

  "Are you the willing slave?" he asked.

  Naomi knew what this was. This was the next level.

  "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I am."

  Lucas stared into her eyes, his lips curling. It lasted a moment, but the look he gave her would stay with her forever. Deeply pleasured, subtly victorious.

  "Could you select some accessories?" he requested. "Nipple clamps, a matching collar if you have it."

  "Of course." The silversmith moved from case to case, lifting out various items.

  Naomi could scarcely breathe. She'd thought the cuffs were enough shopping for one day. Obviously she was wrong.

  "Anything else?" the silversmith asked.

  Naomi took a quick glance in his direction. She caught sight of the collar in his hand, the metal nipple clamps, and her sex contracted with arousal. Her fingers tightened on Lucas's, anticipation winding her tighter with each passing moment.

  Lucas nodded. "A spreader bar and a steel dildo."

  Images flashed in her mind. She felt as if her knees were about to give way.

  In the background she heard the rattle of keys in locks and the clinking of metal items being shifted.

  Lucas unlatched the cuffs, removing them.

  "Would you like me to package the items up and send them on?" the silversmith asked as he returned.

  Lucas passed the cuffs to him and then looked at her with an assessing glance, his mouth lifted at one corner.

  She lifted her chin, trying not to look too desperate.

  He reached into his inside pocket for his wallet. "No, we'll take them now."

  He handed over his credit card.

  They watched while the silversmith wrapped up the numerous items in tissue. He moved quickly and deftly, depositing each carefully wrapped item in a pewter colored shopping bag and standing them in a row.