“Since I didn’t know about her, either, we should get along fine.”
He raked his fingers through his hair, a move she’d previously found appealing. Now, it just pissed her off.
“They said you were an icy bitch,” he snapped, “but I never realized how much until now.” Looking like a trapped rat, he struck with a ferocious venom that left her spirit in tatters, but she’d be damned if she lost that infamous control in front of him.
As her heart bled, she laughed without an ounce of humor. “You have no idea.” Hearing the shower cut off, she pinned him with a hard glare.
“Darling? Where’d you go?” The shower curtain scraped along the rod as the woman pulled it back.
Olivia spun for the bathroom, making him curse again. “Darling will be right there,” she said as she slipped off her engagement ring and, with little more than a glance at the woman who yelped when she appeared in the doorway, she tossed her diamond ring in the toilet bowl and flushed.
“What the...? Fuck, Olivia, I’m still paying for that!”
Olivia dodged him as he lunged for the toilet to try and stop the ring from vanishing. She wished the whirlpool would suck him in with it.
“Who...?” The woman held the curtain across her body like a shield. “What...?”
“You can have him. Our wedding’s off.” With that declaration, Olivia let the last trace of her pride carry her out of the hotel room.
She kept the tears in check until she reached the anonymity of the Madrid sidewalks.
* * * * *
Dylan Montgomery stepped from his limousine and ordered the driver to circle the block. He wanted—needed—to stretch his legs with a walk in the park after spending hours seated at conference tables, haggling with corporate executives and lawyers.
His proposed plan to expand the family business overseas, with a foothold on both coasts of the United States, was coming together. At least the first phase had been successful. It would still be months, if not a year or more, before he saw his dream become a reality.
He removed his tie and tucked it in a pants pocket, then loosened the top two buttons of his shirt. As he strolled along the paved paths, he inhaled the sweet scent of flowers and freshly mowed grass. The greenery of the city park helped him relax despite the constant hum of heavy traffic in the background.
He’d have to call his brother to let him know how things went, but... He glanced at the Rolex Cellini on his wrist and calculated the time adjustment to Eastern Standard Time. Yes, the call could wait.
A stifled sob and sniffle made him glance around to see a petite woman seated on a park bench, her head held in her hands. Her trim, nylon-encased legs led his gaze up from elegant black heels to a hip-hugging skirt that stopped about midthigh. She wore a jewel-toned burgundy blazer to match the skirt, which broadcast her as a woman of sophisticated taste and elegance, despite her current position. Ebony strands of long straight hair hung like a silken curtain about her bowed face.
“Perdón, señorita,” he said, pulling a silk handkerchief from his jacket pocket.
She startled and swept her hair aside to peer at him with aqua eyes as alluring as the Mediterranean Sea. For a moment he could do nothing more than stare into her sorrow-filled gaze.
“May I be of some service?” he asked in Spanish.
“No, thank you,” she murmured in slightly accented Spanish.
Her thick lashes lowered to fan across her damp cheeks. She blinked, and another tear trailed down her face.
He lowered himself to the bench beside her and held out the handkerchief.
She studied it for a few seconds then slowly shook her head. “No, thank you,” she repeated, her hands fisted in her lap. She rubbed her thumb over her unadorned left ring finger.
He reclined against the back of the bench and silently watched her, although her hair blocked his view of her face.
“I’m not an icy bitch,” she blurted out, her fists striking her lap.
Surprised by her sudden change to flawless English, he smiled and said, “Of course you aren’t.”
Those aqua eyes widened and turned toward him as if she’d totally forgotten his presence, or hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud.
Tilting her face with a finger under her chin, he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You’re a very beautiful woman, and whoever caused these tears is an exceedingly unfortunate and foolish man.”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and another tear slipped from her bottom lash.
“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Dylan Montgomery.”
Her gaze dropped, her lashes again shielding her tempting eyes. “Olivia.”
He let his thumb graze the lush curve of her bottom lip, released her chin, and pocketed his handkerchief. “Olivia, I know this is short notice, but would you do me a kind favor?”
Curiosity shone as she looked up.
“I have reservations at a restaurant, but I dislike eating alone. Would you do me the honor of dining with me?”
She shook her head and glanced away.
“A drink then?”
When she looked up again, her eyes were darker and...suspicious.
“Are you married?” she asked.
“No.”
“Engaged?”
“No.”
“Girlfriend?”
He smiled. “No.”
In a move so sudden it pulled him off balance, she grabbed his lapels and roughly pressed her lips to his. By the time he recovered enough to respond, she’d already pushed away with an angry murmur.
“God, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything right. Maybe I am too controlling, but I don’t mean to be.” She didn’t look at him as she continued to ramble. “I don’t want to be. I’m not heartless, you know. I can let go. For once in my life...”
Deciding he’d heard enough, he slipped both hands up to cradle her damp cheeks and turned her face toward him. His lips cut off her self-deprecating chatter in midsentence, his tongue diving inside to claim her honey-sweet mouth.
When her hands started to encircle his neck, he caught her wrists. Her nails scraped over his skin, sending flames of desire scorching through him, before he moved them behind her back and pinned her body against his. He swallowed her moan as he continued the kiss until they were both breathless. His cock throbbed and, surprised by the speed of his own response, he had to pause to regain composure.
His lips hovered over hers as he pulled back just enough to see her closed eyes. He held her wrists gently in one hand, while letting his other fingers lightly stroke the delicate curve of her neck, feeling excitement in her pulse’s heavy, erratic beat.
“If you wish to lose control, mi gatita, I can show you how.”
Her lashes fluttered, unveiling a confused but intrigued haze.
One side of his mouth curved.
“Wh-what do you mean, show me?”
“Let go. Submit. Have you ever played the role of a submissive lover?”
Her look turned to one of uncertainty and skepticism. However, she didn’t try to pull away. “No.” He felt her tremble but couldn’t tell whether it was from fear or arousal. “I don’t know y—”
“Trust is a vital part of such play. The submissive relinquishes control, gaining the freedom to truly feel cherished, desired, and pleasured. The master is really the one bound, as he must adhere to strict rules to ensure his sub’s experience is a memorable one.”
She bit her bottom lip, making him want to suck it into his mouth again. “I don’t know if I can.”
“You already have.” He smiled when her gaze shot to his. “I hold you in my arms, your wrists in my hand. Tell me, Olivia...” He let his fingers slide from her neck to the swell of her breasts barely visible in the V of her blouse. “...how did you feel when I captured them? How do you feel now?”
Her chest rose rapidly as her breath became unsteady. Her pulse pounded under his fingertips, reminding him that despite the blow someone gave her heart, it still bea
t with a need not unlike his own.
“Excited,” she whispered, as if she thought sirens would sound if she made such an admission aloud. “But a little scared, too.”
“More excited than afraid, I hope.” He kissed the tip of her nose, and she gave him a shaky smile. “You need only to say your safe word, and I’d stop immediately.”
“Safe word?”
“Corazon,” he said, choosing the word heart as a reminder to her as well as himself that it, above all else, should be kept safe.
“Corazon?”
He released her wrists as soon as she spoke and moved back enough to break all physical contact with her.
Those beautiful eyes met his with surprise, then with understanding.
She rubbed her arms as if the sudden loss of his body heat left her chilled.
“I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“Permit me to enlighten you? My place is—”
“No.” She bit her lip. “Some place neutral.”
He studied her for a moment, then nodded and said, “You choose.”
She named a five-star hotel not far from where they sat. He’d had business clients stay there in the past and knew it well. The knowledge confirmed his suspicions that she was used to a life of some luxuries, if not extravagance. “You have a room there?”
“No. Not anymore...” Her gaze slid away from him, the pain of earlier shadowing her face.
He held out his hand and, after a brief minute of indecision, she took it. He led her back along the path and stopped at the street. When she turned puzzled eyes toward him, he smiled and squeezed her hand, then grinned as the limousine pulled to a stop a short time later, and her eyes rounded with surprise.
“After you, mi gatita.” My kitten. She reminded him of one. Curious and skittish.
During the quick ride to the hotel and, as they checked in under his name, he continued to hold her hand, tenderly caressing the back with his thumb.
As the elevator rose, he sensed her nerves becoming more jumpy—a speculation confirmed when she flinched at the ding marking their arrival on the appropriate floor.
At the room, he released her hand to slide the keycard in and push open the door. “Do you wish to use your safe word, Olivia?”
She faced him, examining his face for sincerity. He held still, met her gaze, and waited without touching her, allowing her time to determine whether he was worthy of her trust.
After what seemed like an eternity, she shook her head and walked past him into the room. Her poise indicated a woman of class and confidence, yet she continued to rub her arms. He determined to help heal some of the emotional scars left by whoever had hurt her.
He tossed the keycard on the dresser and watched her turn in a circle until she faced him once more.
“It’s a nice room,” she said with a brief laugh at her attempt at small talk.
“Made more beautiful by your presence.”
Her lips parted slightly, her tongue darting out to moisten them.
Instead of touching her, he removed his jacket and tossed it across a nearby chair. His shirt was next. Her gaze followed his hands as he worked free each button and tugged the tails from the waistband.
“Remove your blazer, Olivia.” He gave the command softly but with firm authority. He held out his hand to take it from her, but was careful not to contact her skin as she obeyed. “And the blouse.”
Her fingers trembled, but again she followed his order. Pale ivory lace covered her breasts, the coral nipples barely visible beneath the seductive design. His cock hardened, but he held himself in check.
As much as he’d like to sink into her hard and fast right now, tonight was not about his pleasures, but hers. She needed nurturing.
Someone had wounded her, shaken her confidence. Such a lovely woman, she’d been dealt a crushing blow by someone who should’ve supported her, protected her, and cherished her. Loved her. She was a strong woman, but one in need of a comforting, yet firm hand.
“Tonight, you have no worries,” he said in a husky murmur. “No concerns, duties, or burdens other than to follow my command. Tonight you’re mine to control, to care for...as you deserve to be. Understand?”
She swallowed and then nodded. He smiled at her nervous regard.
“You have your safe word. Should you use it at any time, I’ll stop instantly. But until then, I intend to master you, pamper you, and take you higher than you’ve ever been before.”
“Master?”
Aroused adrenaline pumped harder inside him as he heard the word on her lips. He gave her an amused grin. “I like the sound of that.”
She laughed, a brief but welcome sound.
“Turn around.”
She did, but kept her head turned so she could see him over her shoulder.
“Unfasten your skirt.”
When she did, he took her hands and, placing his over hers, pushed the skirt down until it pooled around her feet. The top of her head barely reached his nose. His eyelids drooped as he buried his face in her hair and inhaled her fresh, floral scent.
After planting a kiss to the back of her head, he knelt behind her and slowly stroked her arms. Her breaths came out in light, quick puffs. He tucked his thumbs into her nylons and pulled them down. She wore no panties beneath the pantyhose, which pleased him, though he didn’t mention it.
“Put your hand on my shoulder and lift your foot.” She hung on as he removed the last remnants of her clothing, along with her shoes.
With a gentle grip on her hips, he turned her to face him as he sat back on his heels, his knees straddling her feet. Her delicate fingers clung to his bare shoulders, while he let his hands roam over the backs of her thighs and buttocks. Her skin was as soft as rose petals. He wanted to lick every inch of her creamy flesh. A small triangle of onyx curls sheltered the apex of her legs.
A growl rumbled up his throat. Soon, he thought, but not yet.
He stood, his palms resting on the swell of her hips.
“Béseme, Olivia,” he ordered with an uncompromising stare at her full lips.
She rose up on tiptoes to comply with his demand for a kiss and pressed those lush, pink lips to his.
He let her lead during the first few seconds, but her subtle, tentative touch was too much of a siren’s call for his libido. He took command and thrust his tongue through her lips to raid the hot depths of her mouth. She made a sound of surprise, which he drank in.
His muscles flexed as he fought the urge to press her body against his hard length. He wanted to tumble them onto the bed and power into her. His cock throbbed with the need, but he couldn’t, so he tore his mouth from hers and released her hips.
After catching his breath, he said, “Lie back on the bed, puss. In the middle.”
With a hint of mischief, she flashed a set of pearly whites. “Yes, Master.”
He chuckled at her playful tone, and was silently relieved to see the pain that had etched tiny lines in her brow earlier had disappeared.
When she was in place, he turned off all of the lights except for the bathroom, which he left on to spill through the crack in the doorway and provide a softer, more subtle illumination. Then, returning to the bed, he sat beside her.
She lay watching him with her legs together, her hands, one over the other, across her abdomen.
“You’re very lovely.” He ran a finger over her collarbone, down past the curve of one breast, to circle the pebbled tip. “Control is mine, puss?”
She nodded.
As he took her hands and raised them over her head, anticipation lit up her eyes. Until he withdrew the silk necktie from his pants pocket and wound it around her wrists.
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