Love Me Twice

by Roz Lee

  Sean held her close with one hand splayed low on her abdomen, and stroked the fingers of his other hand from her wrist, along her arm, past her breasts to her hip. Her shiver encouraged him. She was as affected as he was by the sensual game they were playing. He bent his head, brushed his lips against the pulse in her neck.

  “One,” he counter-offered.

  She did something with her feet, and before he knew it, she was face to face with him. She flattened one small hand against his chest and pressed the collar into his skin.

  “Two.” Like a true negotiator, she countered without passion, but the pressure of her hand on his chest propelled him backward. He considered arguing further, if it would keep her hands on him.

  “Done.” He’d give her a whole goddamned baseball team if she wanted, but she didn’t have to know that, not yet anyway. They could renegotiate pregnancies later, preferably in bed. He was smart enough to know this wasn’t about the numbers, but the principal. An image of Celeste, round with his child, made his already stiff erection go hard as steel. If he wasn’t inside her soon, he’d die. “Is that all?”

  One sinful leg slid through the slit in her dress and caught his thigh in a stranglehold. He wrapped one arm around her waist, and the other slid from her ankle to her thigh, where it came to rest, anchoring her to him. He drug her across the floor like a caveman bringing home his woman. Celeste wrapped her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his shoulder. Ahh. Surrender? He should have known better. She used her position to spin him around and bring him to his knees.

  He’d underestimated her, again. Celeste used the heel of her hand against his forehead to force his gaze to hers. She stood over him like a bullfighter sizing up her opponent. His face was no more than a few inches from her heat. He filled his nostrils with her scent. He needed to touch her. Her leg peeked through the slit in her skirt. His hand found the smooth flesh above her knee and slid slowly up, parting the fabric as he went. When he reached the top of the slit, he slid his hand around her hip until his fingers found her.

  She was an excellent spy. If he believed she’d crumble because he groped her in public, he had another think coming. She held her ground as his fingers explored at will.

  “No more spy shit. No government work, period. We’re both retired.” Her hands bracketed his jaw and applied pressure. He followed her direction and came to his feet, reluctantly pulling his hand from the heaven he’d found between her legs.

  “I quit five years ago. You’re the one still swimming in the alphabet soup.” He put his hands on her waist and spun her around. His erection pressed against the soft round globes of her ass, and he missed a step as he propelled her across the floor. The music hit a down note, and he flung her away from him like a yo-yo and reeled her in before their fingers parted and he lost his lifeline. He wasn’t letting her go, not now, not ever.

  Celeste had to call upon everything she’d ever learned in the spy business in order to continue. All Sean had to do was touch her, and she’d agree to anything. Not that she wasn’t going to retire anyway, it was after all, her condition.

  “Done. I want a house, someplace safe.” The words, spoken to the air over his shoulder, sounded hoarse. Sean tucked her pelvis against his and led her in a spin that left her dizzy. She was still reeling from the way he’d touched her, the heat of his fingers stroking her. She was wet, and with nothing beneath the dress as a barrier, his fingers had slid easily over her swollen flesh. He knew her every secret, knew he had her, but still he played the game.

  “Done. Anything else?” He held her hip to hip, but with one hand around her waist, used his advantage to pull her upper body away from his. His free hand closed over her breast and squeezed, hard. Celeste gasped.

  It was time to end the game.

  “I only submit in the bedroom.”

  Sean knew he deserved this one for publicly groping her. “Done.” His hand traveled from her breast to her hip, and he pushed her into a twirl. Her arm slid along his, and he stopped her momentum with his fingertips. She spun back to him like a sparkling bit of steel to a magnet, and clung there.

  “About Drew,” she persisted.

  Her breath fanned across his neck, just below his ear. He pressed her across the floor again, his strong legs guiding hers, one long, suggestive stride at a time. He needed time to think, to consider. He had her. She was his. He could afford to be generous. He lifted her, spun her around, and let her slide through his arms to her knees. As she had done before, he cupped her face with his hands and lifted her. When she was on her feet, he continued to hold her face captive. His eyes met hers, and when he was sure he had her undivided attention, he said, “One more time. The three of us. Tonight.”

  Celeste flattened both hands on his chest and pushed away, her arms above her head elongated her body. She moved,a column of black fire consuming the dance floor. The glass beads of her dress refracted the dim lights in the lounge like a human mirror ball. He felt the loss—sensed her pulling away with each spiraling turn. His gut clenched, and his heart stopped beating.

  Sean forced air into his lungs and went after her. He caught her around the waist as she reached the edge of the dance floor. With more force than necessary, he pulled her against his chest and splayed both hands over her. One came to rest under her breasts, the other over her lower abdomen. So low, he felt the slight rise of her mound beneath the heavy fabric of her dress. Her fingers encircled his wrists and tried to dislodge him.

  He held tight, and taking long backward steps, pulled her into the dance. They weren’t finished negotiating. Not yet.

  He growled into her ear. “Say goodbye to him tonight, or I’ll kill him.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  The negotiations were over. Celeste smiled inside. She’d gotten what she wanted. That last comment from Sean told her everything she needed to know. Unlike five years ago, Sean was ready to fight for her. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she’d only been goading him about Drew, and that she and Drew had already parted ways, that Drew was ready to move on. But that could wait. Breathless from their dance, she released Sean’s wrists, and twisted in his arms. He let her turn, and she met him, eye to eye.

  “Oui, Maître. Yes, Master.” She waited for recognition to dawn, then dropped her eyes and sank to her knees at his feet. The music continued, a slow, sensuous strain. She’d once read a poem that described tango music as, “all-absorbing love of a tyrant, jealously guarding his dominion, over women who have surrendered submissively, like obedient beasts.” The passage reminded her of Sean, in a good way. Tonight she definitely felt like a beast, and Sean was being a jealous tyrant. She was ready to let him have his way.

  He lifted her chin with one finger and smiled at her, the first genuine smile she’d seen from him in days. She watched as he slid the collar from his shirt. Her eyes went to his as he fastened it around her neck. His hands on her shoulders drew her to her feet.

  “Forever.”

  Celeste read the commitment in his eyes, heard it in his voice. Her heart swelled and pumped hot blood through her body. Desire pooled low in her belly and she smiled.

  “Sans cesse,” she confirmed.

  Excitement, love, desire and plain lust, fueled her flight with Sean from the lounge.

  * * * * *

  Drew stood rooted to the floor as Sean followed Celeste to the dance floor. He’d done as she requested, and the band knew to play the tango when she took the floor with Sean. As if they understood, the other dancers vacated the floor to watch the show.

  If he’d had any doubt the two of them were meant for each other, tonight would have convinced him. They moved like one body, at times completely in sync, at others, as if they were two demons battling for the last ticket out of hell. Sexual energy flowed off them in palpable waves.

  That didn’t make it any easier to watch. His heart ached for what he’d lost, though he understood on an intellectual level that his love for Celeste wasn’t enough, he still wanted to w
alk out on the dance floor, rip Sean’s hands off her and pound some sense into the man. Drew didn’t know what Celeste had wanted to talk to Sean about, he only knew she’d chosen this public forum in order to do it. He did know, if the bastard didn’t have the sense to agree to whatever Celeste had to say, then he was stupider than Drew thought.

  More than once, Drew had to stop himself from interfering. If Celeste needed him, she knew where he was. Not that she wasn’t capable of taking care of herself. If she wanted Sean on his knees, that’s where he’d be. Besides her skill with languages, Celeste could easily take down a man Sean’s size, if she was inclined to do so.

  They switched between lead and follower so many times it was hard to gauge how the discussion was going. Neither one gave anything away with their facial expressions. When Celeste slipped to her knees in front of Sean, Drew’s heart sank like a stone. She’d gotten the assurances she wanted, and now she was giving Sean what he wanted, her submission. A moment later, Drew watched as Sean fastened his collar around her neck. Anger flared to life. Why couldn’t the bastard do that in private? Why did he have to assert his dominion there on the dance floor, with dozens of people watching?

  Drew seethed. It didn’t matter to him that Celeste had submitted of her own free will. This side of their life was better kept behind closed doors.

  He watched as Sean pulled her to her feet, and without ceremony, whisked her out of the lounge. The crowd applauded. Drew alone knew the dance hadn’t been a performance for their entertainment, but some sort of primitive mating ritual. The applause died, and couples began to fill the dance floor. The band began another tango at the urging of the revelers, all of them anxious to attempt what they’d seen.

  His next move wasn’t rational. He knew Celeste hadn’t done anything she didn’t want to do, but he couldn’t stop his feet from following. He had to see for himself that Celeste was all right.

  * * * * *

  Sean released her hand just inside the door of his brother’s stateroom. She stopped obediently to await his instructions. She didn’t have long to wait.

  “Take off the dress.” His voice washed over her like a warm ocean wave and threatened to take her under.

  He stood across the room in the shadows. She strained to see his face in the dim light, but could only make out his relaxed stance. A shaft of burnished gold light from the setting sun cut across the floor where she stood. The dress refracted the light into a shower of phantom diamonds.

  She bent to remove her shoes, but his command stopped her. “Leave the shoes.”

  Celeste straightened. Her fingers trembled on the zipper pull. The warm evening breeze through the open balcony door caressed her skin, heated from dancing and then the whirlwind flight from the lounge to here. The loosened dress began to slip, pulled by its own weight. It caught on one shoulder and Celeste shrugged. The dress fell like a stage curtain cut loose from its counterweights. She stood, naked, except for the collar and her shoes. Soft golden sunlight cast a long shadow and wreathed her feet in a halo of twinkling starlight.

  She stood for what seemed like hours while Sean looked his fill. His laser sharp gaze surveyed every inch of her. Her heart pounded against her ribs to feed the arousal between her legs. She was swollen, aching in the age-old way for her mate. If Sean touched her now he would find her wet and ready for him.

  Touche-moi. Touch me, she silently begged.

  “Come to me.” The three words rumbled low, seducing, dragging her closer to the edge.

  Celeste disengaged carefully from dress at her feet and joined Sean in the shadows. She stopped within arms reached and waited. She risked a surreptitious glance at his face. The tight control she saw there, emboldened her. Sean was in control, but barely.

  Sean was a master at building her desire. He knew how the slow, mounting anticipation, added to her pleasure. With every shallow breath, she wanted, needed him, more. After that one stolen glimpse of his face, she kept her eyes downcast. At last, he moved. He toed off his shoes and kicked them to the side.

  “Your hair,” he pulled the rose loose and her hair tumbled free. “There, much better.” He drew the fingers of one hand through her tresses. “The rose was a nice touch, but this is a better use for it.” Celeste shivered as he teased her nipples with the rose, dragging it over each one until they became diamond hard. She held her ground, enduring the sensual torture.

  “Look at you, so lovely. Are you aroused? Do you want me?” The rose trailed down her stomach, tickled her navel, and slipped lower. “Spread your legs.” The rose slid between her thighs, brushed softly against her aching folds, and paused over her clit. He stroked her with the sweet petals until her knees grew weak and he had to drop the rose and grab her arms to support her.

  “On your knees,” he commanded.

  Celeste sank to her knees. She sensed his movement. The slide of starched fabric against starched fabric told her he was unbuttoning his shirt.

  “Give me your hands.”

  Celeste raised her hands above her head, heard the soft whisp as he slid his useless bow tie off. With expert skill, he bound her wrists together. Her pussy clenched tight with need as she granted him another level of submission.

  “Touch me now.” He guided her bound hands to his waistband. “Undo my pants.”

  She took the command as permission to look up, but kept her gaze on her fingers as she worked the buttons at his waist and slid the zipper down. So close, yet she hadn’t been given permission to do more.

  “Slide them off.”

  It took some doing with her hands bound, but she managed to get his trousers to his knees. He did the rest, removing them completely so he wore his socks, cumber bund, and his shirt, open down the front. Cuff links winked at her as he shed his socks too. She stifled a laugh. Only Sean would go commando in a tuxedo. At eye level, his cock stood at attention, as ready for her as she was for him. She licked her lips, eager for a taste.

  Sean took his cock in one hand, wrapped the other around the back of her neck and urged her forward. “Take me in your mouth.”

  The head of his cock nudged against her lips and she opened to take him deep. Once inside, he closed both hands around her head to hold her still and rocked into her. “Suck me,” he ordered. She took over, sucking, licking and teasing. She used her bound hands to tug on his balls, which earned her a ribald curse, but he didn’t stop her.

  She worked him, savoring the salty drops of pre-cum her ministrations coaxed from the slit in his bulbous head. His cock was impossibly hard, and she knew he must be in pain. She used her tongue to sooth, stroking his length, circling the head before taking him to the back of her throat. She wanted to please him, but her growing need to have him inside her, even if this was all she was going to have, made her ache.

  Celeste relished her power to bring him to this, and knew, though she was his to command, that his every command was made with her pleasure in mind. Sean would orchestrate, she would obey, and in doing so reach heights of pleasure she’d never found with anyone else.

  With a muttered obscenity, he jerked her head back. His cock sprang free and rose between them. She sensed his gaze and raised her eyes to his.

  “Christ, you’re a witch with that mouth of yours, but I want more. I’ll have all of you tonight, and anytime I want you, from now on.”

  It wasn’t a question, but she understood he needed to hear that she agreed to the terms of their relationship. From now on, if he wanted her, anyway, it was her duty to obey.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  His hands on her head drew her to her feet. He crooked a finger around the black silk binding her wrists and tugged. She followed as he pulled her across the room to the curved bench off to one side. Sean threw one leg over the middle and sank into the lowest curve, his back against the higher end.

  “Join me,” he invited with a tug on her wrists.

  Celeste straddled the chair and allowed him to guide her legs over his so she sat on his thighs, facing him.
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  “Put your arms around my neck.”

  She did as she was told, the action bringing her pebble-tipped breasts higher. Sean rewarded her by taking one into his mouth. Madre di dio! A lightning bolt of desire shot from her breast to her pussy.

  She arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward in invitation. He tilted his head so it rested against the raised curve of the bench. Sean’s hands closed over her ribcage and he lifted her slightly. He flexed his hips so the head of his cock teased her weeping folds.

  “Please, Sir,” she begged.

  Sean released her nipple, but instead of lowering her, he simply moved his attentions to her other breast. His teeth scraped her nipple, and then he soothed with his tongue and suckled. Every nip of his teeth, every rasp of his tongue, every deep pull on her had an answering reaction between her thighs. Spread open, held above him by strong arms, she felt small and helpless. But she knew her reactions to his touch fueled his desire. It was an unbroken circle of pleasure given and taken in equal measures.

  With her hands locked, she cradled him in her arms and dropped her cheek to the top of his head. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and let herself slide into subspace. Sean would take care of her. He would push her to accept all the pleasure she could endure, and then push her over the edge into that fractured world where love and desire combined into ecstasy.

  Sean pulled on her breast, and pleasure ripple through her body like expanding rings from a pebble tossed into still water. He loved her breasts, loved the feel of them, the way her nipples responded to his touch, his gaze. When she’d undressed, for a brief moment when the dress had hung from one shoulder, her left breast had been exposed. He’d stared like a green schoolboy who’d never seen a naked breast before. Then she’d shrugged her lithe shoulder, and the dress fell. It had been all he could do not to follow it to the floor and beg her to let him touch her magnificent breasts.