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Crave Me

Page 14

by Geneva Lee


  I froze, returning her stare in the mirror. “Excuse me?”

  “Smith knows better than to bring the hired help to a private meeting.” Georgia arched an eyebrow in challenge.

  “He prefers I attend all his dinners,” I informed her. Smith had been quite clear on that when I took the job, but I had the sinking suspicion that his professional life wasn’t nearly the open book he’d insinuated it was. “I’m simply doing my job.”

  “How interesting,” Georgia purred. She moved closer to me, lowering her voice as she sneered. “I didn’t know Smith employed whores. He’s never needed to before.”

  “I’m sure your cunt has always been freely available,” I hissed, officially losing my cool.

  “Careful, princess, or I won’t be so friendly in the future.”

  I snorted and grabbed my powder from my bag. Georgia wanted to make me squirm and that wasn’t going to happen. I pressed the sponge to my nose, ignoring her.

  “I know all about you,” she continued. “Hammond is very particular about the people his associates employ. I haven’t decided if you’re as big of a gold digger as your friend, Clara. It would be hard to top that. But seeing as you’re already sleeping with Smith, I imagine you’ll give her a run for her money. Although you must have hated to lose out on your own crown.”

  “Clara must love you,” I said flatly. “I’m already hoping you’ll be my bridesmaid.”

  “Smith isn’t the type that gets married. So if you’re hoping he’s going to ride in on a white horse and carry you away, I suggest you wake the fuck up.” She planted her hands on her hips and waited for her last attack to hit.

  “Your determination to rattle me is truly pathetic.” I turned to face her. We’d see which one of us could be rattled. It wasn’t going to be me.

  “It’s adorable how tough you think you are. Call me when you realize who he really is.”

  “He must be really good in bed,” I said, feigning ignorance on the subject, “because you’re clearly not over him.”

  “Smith and I have never been together. We grew up together. He’s a brother to me, and any bitch who thinks she’ll come between that is going to land herself in a rather large pile of shit.” Georgia snapped the lid of her lipstick with a loud click and dropped it into her purse. “You know nothing about him.”

  “I will,” I promised her.

  “Allow me to offer your first insight.” She pushed past me, purposefully knocking her hip into me as she crossed to the door. “He’s the jealous type.”

  That I could have guessed, but I kept my face blank. She’d have to let me in on something more interesting if she thought I’d get upset.

  “He wouldn’t take kindly to finding out his flavor of the week is whoring around with her ex-fiancé.”

  From the corner of my eye, I spotted myself in the mirror. Face white. Mouth slack. So much for not letting her get to me.

  “I pop by the office frequently. You might want to have your little sexcapades elsewhere. Unless you’re hoping Smith will beat him to a pulp.”

  “My personal life is none of your business,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “That is where you’re wrong. Hammond might not like to mix business with pleasure, but that’s my primary job description. I collect sins.”

  “That sounds like a waste of time.”

  “I’ve found it to be quite lucrative.” She tugged open the door and paused. “Your sins are in my files. Keep that in mind.”

  She left and I fumbled for the counter. I knew a thing or two about sins. So far I’d been outrunning mine. Now they were about to catch up with me.

  When I returned to the table, Smith stood and caught me by the arm. “Our business is concluded.”

  Apparently the private dinner wasn’t going to include the main course. After what had happened in the loo, I was disappointed to cut the evening short. Between the cat and mouse game and the threats, my stomach was tied in knots. Hammond accompanied us to the exit. Taking my hand, he pressed his thin lips to it.

  “Always a pleasure. Until we meet again.”

  I, for one, wouldn’t mind if some time elapsed between now and then. Drawing my hand back, I forced a smile. Where was soap when you needed it?

  Smith gave a curt nod and guided me out the revolving door. As it spun shut behind us, he grabbed my hand and strode toward the valet, dragging me behind him. He shoved his ticket into the attendant’s hand along with another hundred pound note.

  “I assume I don’t have to tell you which car.”

  “No, sir,” the boy said as he took off for the lot.

  As soon as he was gone, Smith rounded on me, pulling me roughly against him. “You didn’t correct him,” he growled.

  My mind went blank. Him? Had Georgia gotten to him in the few minutes before I’d returned from the powder room? I wasn’t certain how to explain. I shouldn’t have to, but judging from the possessive heat rolling off of him, he didn’t feel the same way.

  Any other man wouldn’t believe he had a claim on me. Any other man I might have told to sod off. Why did Smith already have such a hold on me? Warning bells rang out in my head. This was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid. Now, not only was I jumping into the deep end, I found myself yearning to. The lines between us were blurred. I didn’t know when I was crossing one, and I didn’t know what the consequences would be when I did. All I knew was that I wanted to bend them. Break them. Just like part of me wanted him to break me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly. There were no other words that felt appropriate. I didn’t owe him an explanation, and I wanted his punishment—wanted his hands to take control of my body.

  “You don’t need to apologize because he called me sir,” Smith said, gripping my hips forcefully. “That title belongs to your lips.”

  It took me a moment to register that he was talking about the valet, not Philip. I breathed out, relieved and disappointed at the same time.

  I wrapped an arm around his neck, drawing his mouth toward mine. “And what belongs on your lips?”

  “This.” He swept a kiss over my mouth. His hands drifted up, skimming quickly over my breasts. Despite the brief contact, my nipples beaded in expectation. The small flame of desire that had been stifled by my anxiety blazed into an inferno. “These. Your pussy. All of you belongs on my lips, beautiful.”

  The rest of my fear melted away in the heat that small word inspired. Until him, fantasy and reality had been separate worlds, lying far from one another. Now they both centered on him.

  He leaned in, moving his mouth to my ear. But he didn’t kiss me. “What did Georgia say to you?”

  “Nothing that mattered.” And none of it did matter. Not anymore. Not with him so close to me.

  “Stay away from her,” he advised. “She doesn’t play by the same rules.”

  “And you do?” I asked, my focus shifting from foreplay to business.

  “No, I don’t,” he confessed. “Does that scare you?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. If I wanted the truth out of him, I had to be honest myself.

  “Good. You should be scared of me. Don’t ever forget that, beautiful.” He nipped my earlobe with his teeth for emphasis.

  Breathing him in, I pressed an index finger to his chin and shook my head. “She told me you were the jealous type.”

  “I own many things. Most of them are replaceable. But occasionally, I obtain a priceless piece. Do you understand, beautiful?

  I shook my head slowly no. The shades of it were there, but not the complete picture.

  “You are priceless to me, so yes, I would be very jealous should someone try to come between us. I would hate to hear Georgia was trying to be that person.”

  The implication was clear. “She was warning me,” I admitted as the Veyron zoomed to the curb.

  Smith didn’t move toward his car, his green eyes trained on me instead. I could lose myself in those eyes. It was a dangerous proposition. I’d been led astray before by
a man. I was determined not to allow that to happen again. I’d pushed him away but there had been a moment when I opened myself to the possibility. However fleeting it was, I’d allowed another man to touch me. It was only made worse by the fact that I’d sworn never to speak to that man again.

  “She saw my ex kiss me in front of your office.”

  Smith moved then, catching my upper arm and hauling me to the waiting car without a word. His whole body was rigid. I sensed his barely contained fury seething within him, and I wasn’t the only one. The people wandering past us stopped and whispered.

  I knew I should pull away. Yell. Scream. Put a stop to this now before it got out of control. But I put up no fight when he opened my door. I sank into the passenger seat without a struggle. It wasn’t reasonable. It wasn’t smart.

  And I didn’t care.

  Smith didn’t speak the entire ride. By the time he parked the Veyron in his garage, I regretted my decision to come with him. The fascination I’d felt in front of the restaurant had evaporated, leaving only trepidation. He’d spoken of punishment and submission before. I’d never really considered what that might entail.

  He exited the car without a word and walked to the lift, leaving me to scramble after him.

  That was your chance. He hadn’t asked me to come with him. He hadn’t demanded I follow him. And I still had. I paused a few steps from him. He stood with his back to me, and I considered my options. I could walk out now. Or I could see where this led. I’d enjoyed his teasing slaps and smacks. I’d wanted more.

  But how much?

  I closed the gap between us and followed him into the lift. Smith pushed the button for the second floor. We were headed straight to the bedroom. The ache of expectation built in my core, filtering slowly through the rest of my body, until I was practically humming with need. When the doors zipped open, Smith placed his arm across the threshold and waited for me to exit. I stepped into the hallway.

  “Bedroom.”

  One word. It surged through me. Squaring my shoulders I marched inside his room, stopping just past the doorway.

  “Strip.”

  My eyes locked with his, but he looked away immediately. What I had seen in those deep emerald orbs chilled me. Reaching under my arm, I tugged down the zipper of my gown, still watching him. Still hoping he would turn back to me. He didn’t. My dress puddled to the floor, and I stepped out of it, wearing only a nude silk bustier and stockings. I’d left my knickers at home as he requested, but he didn’t acknowledge that.

  “Everything.”

  It took me a few moments of fumbling to unhook all the tiny fasteners by myself. Smith’s gaze had returned to me—or at least my body. There was no affection in his face. He was vacant—a void. There was no way to read him, because there was nothing to read. When I’d pulled off my last stocking, I stood exposed before him.

  Smith circled around me, studiously avoiding my eyes as he inspected me. Then he uttered one final word, “Flawless.”

  I blushed under his scrutiny, both pleased at the praise and nervous about what came next.

  He snapped his fingers. “Kneel before me.”

  I dropped before him, one knee at a time.

  “I’m attracted to a fiery woman. Some men aren’t. They like their women quiet. Docile. But a woman with a sharp tongue—a defiant woman—that’s what gets my attention. You’ve had my attention since the moment we met, Belle.” He paused and ran a single finger along the curve of my shoulder. Then he stepped in front of me, putting me eye level with the unmistakable bulge in his trousers.

  I barely resisted the urge to snap open his fly and take him in my mouth. He wanted a defiant woman and I could be just that, but something held me to the spot. Curiosity, I suppose. I was curious what he wanted to do to me. Even more curious if I would let him.

  “Perhaps what happened today was innocent, but I’m going to need you to prove that to me. I’m a man who prefers evidence to hearsay. Call it a hazard of my profession. Proof is much more convincing than words.” He peeled off his suit coat and loosened his tie. When he unbuttoned his top button, a small moan slipped from my mouth. Smith tapped my cheek with the side of his hand, reminding me to be silent. “Your body responds to my requests even when you don’t. I’ve learned how to read it by watching you since that first day. It will tell me everything I need to know. Do you understand?”

  I nodded, my eyes flickering up to stare at him. My hands longed to reach for him. I wanted to touch him almost as much as I wanted him to touch me.

  “But more importantly, do you consent?” he continued in a low voice. “You are free to leave at any time. You are free to tell me to stop. I won’t prevent you from leaving. The things I’m going to do to you might feel demeaning. They’re supposed to. But if I’m correct, you will enjoy them. Just as I’ll enjoy bridling your defiance and seeing where your loyalty lies. Do you have any questions?”

  “How will you know that I’m not performing?”

  “You’re clinging to your bravado, beautiful.” A note of affection colored his tone, but it quickly shifted back to domineering. “No one performs that well. I’m going to strip you bare and make you squirm until your mind ceases to function except to follow my commands.”

  My body burned, my knees stinging against the marble floor and the rest of me aching from want. “I consent.”

  “Very good. Stay.”

  I didn’t budge, but I felt him moving away from me. The room seemed to darken without his presence, and I resisted the urge to turn around and look for him. I understood the expectations of me even if they were difficult to follow. My body relaxed instantly at the sound of his footsteps but tensed again when I heard the soft clink of a chain.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted him drop into the chair by the window.

  “Come to me, beautiful.”

  His request washed over me. I felt wanted. Alive. I pressed my palm to the floor and began to push myself to my feet.

  “Crawl.” The word lingered on his tongue.

  Instantly I shifted forward, placing my other hand on the floor. The hardness of it registered faintly in the back of my mind, but my only conscious thought was of him. Each shuffle of my knees, each clap of my palm against marble took me closer. Smith lounged back, his chin propped against his hand. Two fingers pressed thoughtfully to his mouth as he watched my progress. When I got to his feet, I dropped back onto my heels and placed one hand onto the chair cushion, carefully avoiding touching his thighs.

  “You may come closer,” he said in a gentle voice.

  I pressed my cheek against his knee and breathed him in. His woody cologne flooded my nostrils and the warmth of our small contact seemed to both feed and quell the fire raging inside me. Closing my eyes, I understood the truth.

  There was only him.

  The heat of his fingertips trailed over my collarbone. His scorching touch was followed by cool, smooth leather. It wrapped around my neck tightly enough that I inhaled sharply. Fingers swept under the strap, reassuring me that I could breathe.

  “Turn around and hold up your hair.”

  I looked to him then. Smith paused and cupped my cheek. “You’re doing so well, beautiful. Now turn around.”

  I did as I was told. Resisting the urge to touch the leather fastened around my neck, I moved to face away from him and lifted my hair, exposing the nape of my neck. The sharp, distinct click of metal sent goose bumps rippling across my skin.

  “Hands and knees,” Smith instructed.

  A cold metal chain snaked down my back as I lowered myself on all fours. A tiny voice inside me dissented to this and the rest of me—my muscles, my senses, my thoughts, my very soul—hushed it. My arousal surged so plentifully that I felt it trickle down my seam and drip to the floor beneath me. A shudder wracked my body, a trembling promise of things to come.

  “That made you wet,” Smith murmured, dipping a finger between my weeping folds. He lightly brushed it, releasing more fluid. “I le
ashed you and you nearly came. I took you over, took away your decisions, took away your freedom. And soaking your pussy with want is your response, beautiful. Do you know why?”

  I searched for a no, but all I could force past my lips was a whimper.

  “You’ve even given up your voice. Everything you are centers around me and what I will allow you. My finger.” He pushed inside my sopping hole and hooked his finger to massage my g-spot.

  “My mouth.” Warm, soft lips swept over my swollen sex.

  “The hand that holds your tether.” He gave a tug, forcing my head back. “I took away everything and how do you feel?”

  Liberated. It wasn’t the word that flashed through my head so much as the concept itself. I felt light, as if a burden I’d carried my whole life had lifted from my back. I nearly believed I could float away. But the chain that had freed me anchored me to Smith.

  “You’ve given me something precious.” Smith stood and moved to the front of me. Dipping down, he caught my face, granting me the first peek of the gold lead he’d attached to my collar. He drew me up by the chin, and I effortlessly returned to a kneeling position. Reverence smoldered across his beautiful face, light glimmering from his eyes. “Trust.”

  The realization crashed through me. I trusted him. I gave him the one thing I’d sworn never to give a man again, and I didn’t even know why. We’d known each other such a short amount of time. I’d never been the type that believed in soul mates or love at first sight. But right here, right now, I’d handed him control. He could do with me as he pleased, and I wanted him to.

  “But now I need to know if I can trust you.”

  The pleasant exhilaration his last insight had given me vanished. It wasn’t that I feared him. It was that I was scared of what I was about to reveal to him—and myself.

  “Hold this.” He pushed the leash against my mouth, and my lips parted, instinctively taking it between my teeth. Smith rubbed a hand over the thick outline of his dick. “You’re so pretty with your mouth dripping gold chain.”

  He lifted his foot up to me, and I tugged off his shoe, repeating the action with the other until his feet were bare.

 

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