Samantha’s eyes never left Elijah’s face, and in that moment he felt bigger than the entire world.
“I’m sure.” She spoke softly. And then Angelo was gone, and Elijah was faced with the goddess who had somehow managed to capture his every thought for the past two days.
“I’m going to cuff your legs.” He felt the incredible need to see her in his bonds, to put his mark on them. “What is your safe word?”
“Glass.” Her face was turned against him as she spoke the word. He savored her shiver as he knelt before her, clasping her left ankle, then circling it with hard steel.
He repeated the process with her right ankle. Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to the inside of her thigh before again rising to his feet.
She shuddered, and he drank in her response.
Elijah took a quick moment to scan the papers that Samantha had filled out. His mind whirled with all the things he wanted to do to her, but he pushed them aside.
This first time had to be all about her.
“No sex?” This had been marked as a hard limit. It often was on a sub’s first visit, until they felt more sure of themselves and their partner. He already knew what it felt like inside her, but he still couldn’t presume, no matter how much he was already aching to return to her wet heat.
Samantha hesitated, then nodded. “No sex.”
“All right, then.” He tilted her chin up so that she looked directly at him. Those glass green eyes were full of defiance and heat.
“I need to say something,” she announced.
He paused, his hands inches from her shoulders. His fingers itched to touch.
“What do you need to say, little cat?” Though there was still a thin ribbon of space between them, Elijah swore he could already feel the warmth of her skin pulsing in that empty space.
“Just because we’ve already had sex, and just because I’ve agreed to do this . . . this scene or whatever it’s called with you . . . it doesn’t mean that I’ve agreed to your deal.” Though she didn’t clarify, Elijah understood what she was referring to.
She wasn’t just talking about her resistance to accept his commission—and he knew that there was more to that resistance than she was letting on.
She was referring to the other thing that lay between them. The sexual connection that drew hot and tight between them.
If she had been any other submissive, Elijah would have used this opportunity to introduce some discipline. Her tone was one that many other Doms wouldn’t tolerate.
He wasn’t most Doms, and he found that he had no desire to quell her attitude. Not yet.
She was acting out, certainly, but it wasn’t to get him to pay attention to her. It was a part of who she was, and a very large part of what had attracted him to her.
When concocting the idea of the commission, he had intended to seduce her slowly into an affair, to savor what he still wasn’t convinced would be any more than vanilla sex. Amazing vanilla sex, but vanilla all the same.
But chance had put her in his arms right now. He was going to take the opportunity and run with it.
“Close your eyes.” Since he hadn’t intended on going to a club when he’d left the resort that evening, he didn’t have his bag of toys with him. He would have to make do with nothing more than his hands.
He intended to push her a bit tonight, to see if she really was interested in what she thought she was. He was already in deep enough with Samantha that, if it turned out she wanted nothing more than sugar kink, he needed to protect his heart.
“Hold on to those chains, and no matter what I say, what I do, don’t let go.”
• • •
No matter what I say, don’t let go.
Samantha’s heart began to pound double time in her chest. She’d closed her eyes when he’d commanded her to, but at these last words, she popped them open again.
Her disobedience earned her a sharp swat on the hip.
“Ow!” Eyes fully open now, she looked over her shoulder and glared at Elijah. “What was that for?”
Cupping his palm, he spanked her again, this time fully on one of her ass cheeks. She felt the skin beneath his blow spark to life, heating and tingling.
“You opened your eyes. I told you not to.”
She’d read about spanking when she’d done some research. The mere thought of it had turned her on. But she’d expected—somehow she’d imagined—that it would be discussed beforehand, and that there would be some kind of . . . warm-up, maybe, before it happened.
She’d never dreamed that he would simply spank without asking. Would simply lay his palm across her flesh while she was restrained and could do nothing about it.
His palm again met her ass, and she jolted, swaying in the chains.
“Close your eyes.” Elijah’s commanding voice held nothing but confidence, as if he expected no other outcome than that she would obey.
It was really freaking hot. The blows had brought her skin to life, had focused her attention fully on Elijah. But they hadn’t excited her, not the way that being restrained had.
As if he sensed that, he stopped the spanking. Her eyes were closed tightly, but she could still sense his movements as he circled her, disturbing the air as he walked.
“My options tonight are limited, Samantha. I don’t have my toy bag with me.”
She turned her face in the direction his voice came from, letting it wash over her.
His voice was warm and powerful, and she would never have admitted it to him, but it made her a little bit weak in the knees.
“I could spank you some more. I could release you from the chains, could turn you over my knee and lay my hand flat on that pretty pale skin.”
Samantha inhaled sharply at the words, sensing he was searching for something.
She couldn’t give it to him, because she had no idea what it was.
“I could borrow a crop from someone. Or a paddle. Maybe a whip.” His voice was calm, as if he was discussing what they would have for dinner. Samantha’s body tightened, partly with anticipation and partly with dread.
The pictures she’d found during her research had been titillating, and she’d found the idea of being whipped . . . intriguing. But in the moment, right then and right there, the thought didn’t sit well.
“Not yet, hmm? Well, what else can I do to you?” Samantha sensed him stop in front of her, guessed that he was looking down at her face. She understood then what he was doing.
He didn’t have the toys to play with, to discover what she liked and what she didn’t. So he was using words, watching to see how she responded to the ideas he brought up.
She wanted nothing more than to have him grab her, to do what he would to her.
She couldn’t find the words to ask, and didn’t think she was supposed to, at any rate.
“I think I know.” These words were whispered directly into her ear, followed by a light nip on her earlobe with his teeth. A small moan escaped her lips.
Elijah chuckled, and she frowned.
“Frowning at a Dom can be risky business, Samantha.” A hand swept over her shoulder, and she felt the strings holding up her short nightie fall down.
A sharp cry escaped her when, with both straps sliding down her shoulders, the bodice of the nightie dropped, revealing her breasts and her stomach. His hands cupped the mounds of flesh with just the lightest of touches, but it brought every nerve in her body sizzling to life.
She started to pant when his thumbs brushed over her nipples, which contracted tightly, almost painfully. She felt the touch all the way down to her pussy. It lit a fire that made her ache.
“How can I possibly be frowning at you when I can’t see you?” She made sure her voice was light and sweet, not testing him, even though his hands on her breasts were driving her wild.
There was a long moment of silence. A knot in her stomach grew as she wondered what on earth she’d done that was so wrong.
She dared to open her eyes just enough to pe
ek at him, and instead was confronted with the sight of Elijah trying to suppress laughter.
Repressing a smile herself, she closed her eyes all the way again.
“I saw that.” Elijah’s voice was mild but stern, and Samantha cursed under her breath. How the hell had he seen? She’d opened her eyes only the tiniest crack. “For disobeying yet again you’ll receive one more punishment.”
“Are you going to spank me again?” She hoped not. She felt on the edge of something—something big—and another tap on the ass wasn’t going to help her find it.
“No, I have something else in mind this time,” he said. Samantha heard mischief in his voice. “You can open your eyes.”
Her eyes flew open to find Elijah kneeling before her. He looked up at her with a grin so wicked it transformed his angelic countenance into something dark and dangerous.
“I’m going to taste you, Samantha. I’m going to use my tongue on you.”
Samantha’s entire body jerked at the very idea. “That, uh . . . that doesn’t really sound like a punishment.”
Elijah looked up at her with something enticing in his eyes.
“That’s not your punishment. Your punishment is that you’re not allowed to come until I say you can.”
Samantha’s mouth fell open with incredulity. She watched as, with sure fingers, Elijah pulled her lacy bikini panties to one side and bared the triangle of russet curls that lay beneath.
“Very pretty.” His murmur was so close to her flesh that she could feel his breath misting warmly over her lower lips.
She barely had time to register what he was about to do, and then his thumbs were parting her flesh and his tongue was sweeping into the crevice in between.
“Oh my God,” she choked out as her entire body rocked, pulling on the chains that held her legs apart, her arms above her head. The clanking of the metal reminded her that she couldn’t do anything but accept what he was doing to her, not unless she wanted to use her safe word.
As his tongue swirled over the hard nub of her clit, Samantha discovered that she really, really didn’t want to use her safe word.
“That’s right,” Elijah murmured against her, his tongue flicking over her with a teasing touch. “You don’t have the control here. All you can do is accept what I give you. It’s not your choice. Your body is not yours right now. It’s mine.”
His words worked at something inside her. They released the feelings that she had been storing away, the ones she hadn’t allowed herself to fully explore. They exploded free, combining in a dizzying arousal that washed over her and made her shake.
“So responsive.” Elijah swept his tongue through her cleft again. “You like that. You like the idea of not being in control.”
Samantha liked it so much that she felt the tensions that signaled climax already coiling inside her. She was amazed—he’d brought her to climax quickly the day before, but she’d thought it was a onetime occurrence. But once again she found herself so aroused by the touch of his hand that she knew she could come again, and soon.
Except . . . oh, he’d said . . .
She wasn’t allowed to come until he told her she could. For reasons she didn’t quite understand, she didn’t want to disappoint him.
“Eli . . .” Samantha tried to tense her body, to hold off the rising wave of pleasure. “Oh, please stop . . . I’m going to . . .”
Elijah withdrew his mouth just for a moment, then slid his tongue all the way inside her, and it was all Samantha could do not to scream.
“Do you want me to stop?” Elijah caught her clit between his two thumbs, dragged the rough edge of calluses over the tender flesh, and Samantha shuddered. “Tell me the truth.”
“No . . . God, no.” She was a live wire, a bomb about to explode. “But . . . you said . . . you said I can’t . . .”
“Come for me, Samantha.” Removing his mouth from her lower lips, he stood, his body pressing against hers all the way up. He wrapped a fist in the length of her braid and tugged her head back until the line of her neck was exposed. “Come for me now.”
He closed his teeth over the tender spot where her pulse beat, just below her jawline. Samantha’s muscles sagged, then snapped tight like a rubber band. Pleasure whipped through her, blinding her, stealing her hearing, her breath.
She loved it. She hated it.
Elijah was there holding her as she rode out the unexpected storm. She cried out, pulled on her chains until it hurt, but the bliss went on and on.
When it finally faded, Samantha was left wide-eyed and stunned, staring incredulous at Elijah.
“What the fuck was that?” she asked when she was finally able to speak. This time he couldn’t hold back his amusement, and he shook with laughter as he undid the cuffs holding up her arms and massaged the skin that had chafed against the metal.
“That was good,” he said, his hand stroking lightly over her back. She could feel the rock-hard length of his erection as he held her to him, and she arched her hips in invitation, wanting to give back some of the pleasure that he’d just given her.
To her confusion, he pulled away.
“Did you like it?” His face was serious, those intense blue eyes searching her face, trying to read her.
Samantha furrowed her brow as something dark worked its way into the light. She didn’t like that question. Why didn’t she like that question?
“I—” The words caught in her mouth as the darkness rolled over her again.
Did you like that, little girl?
The words from her past slammed into her with enough force that her knees buckled. Elijah caught her in his arms before she could fall.
“Let me go. Let me out.” She shoved at Elijah’s chest, her breath beginning to rasp in her throat.
No. No. She wouldn’t let these memories ruin this for her. She was stronger than that.
She struggled to inhale, then worked to release the breath again as Elijah dropped to his knees in front of her and released the cuffs that bound her ankles. She was trembling enough that once her feet were free she stumbled.
This time when Elijah caught her up in his arms, she didn’t shove him away.
“Thank you,” Samantha whispered through numb lips. Elijah scowled in response, snapping at a young man in a collar who stood nearby to bring them a blanket and a bottle of water.
He settled into an overstuffed armchair, Samantha on his lap. She curled into him, her breathing slowing as she registered whose arms she was in.
She was with Elijah. She was in his arms, at the club, and she was safe.
“Drink.” A fuzzy blanket was wrapped around her, and Elijah held a bottle of water up to her lips. Obediently she sipped at the liquid, felt its coolness ease some of her throat’s swelling from panic.
She shook her head when Elijah held the bottle up again. She felt him shift beneath her as he set the bottle aside.
Then he caught her chin in his hand and turned her head so that she looked right at him.
“What happened there?” Elijah pinned her with the intensity of his stare, and Samantha squirmed.
“Nothing. Just momentary panic.” She kept her voice light. She had spent a very long time trying to put the past behind her, and she wasn’t about to drag it out now.
“I told you not to lie.” Elijah spoke sternly, as if bestowing an important lesson, and prickles of guilt rode out over Samantha’s skin.
She didn’t know quite why, but she really didn’t like the thought of disappointing him.
She didn’t know what to say, so she pressed her lips together tightly, sealing the words inside.
“You liked being bound.” It was clear that Elijah wasn’t asking her a question. Still, she nodded in agreement, though the movement was stiff and jerky.
The sensation of being locked into the cuffs, the chains—it had been more than sexual for her. It had made her feel free.
“You enjoyed my touch on your breasts. And you liked it when I used my mouth on you.” Aga
in, Elijah spoke surely. Samantha felt as though she should be embarrassed to be dissecting their encounter like this, but Elijah was so matter-of-fact about it that it didn’t make sense for her to feel mortified.
“I did,” Samantha agreed softly. There was no use denying it, not when he’d made her come the way he had—in public, no less.
“So it must have been something after. Either when I released you from the cuffs or when I spoke to you.” Bingo. Samantha schooled her face into what she hoped was an expressionless mask.
This was not open for discussion. Not now, not ever.
“Samantha.” There was a command in his voice, and Samantha found that she couldn’t look away. There was deep concern in his eyes, and the depth of it startled her.
Why should he care about any of this? Why would he bother to find out anything about her? It was clear that she was interested in him physically. Why would he want any more?
“I can’t.” Samantha tried to rid herself of the tremble in her voice. She’d never been the type to enjoy feeling like a damsel in distress.
“Can’t or won’t?” Elijah asked.
Samantha didn’t hear any judgment in his tone, but she reacted as if she had.
“I won’t.” Struggling to free herself from his arms, Samantha looked away, feeling the tears well up in her eyes before she gathered up her self-control and faced him again. “It’s not something I’m going to be talking about. Not ever again.”
Elijah pressed his lips together tightly, finally letting go so she could free herself. She stood up and tensed, preparing herself for an argument.
Instead she found herself blinking in surprise as he unwound the fuzzy blanket from her legs, then smoothed the skirt of her nightie around her hips. He hooked sure fingers in the straps of the bodice, pulling them up until they were again settled on her shoulders.
Elijah stood as well, and Samantha noted that, even though he’d been on his knees in front of her, even though he’d had her crushed in his arms, he didn’t appear wrinkled or mussed in the least.
He held out a hand for her, and after a long moment she finally took it, enjoying the warmth of his palm pressed into her own.
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