by Sable Jordan
She didn’t answer, and he didn’t push it; continued toying with one erect peak while the opposite set of fingers tickled down her stomach. He kissed the side of her neck, worked his way across her shoulders.
“Tell me to stop and I will. I won’t take anything from you, Princess. You have to give it to me.”
Her head dropped forward, warm hands covering his on their exploration of her body.
“Stop me, Kizzie,” he breathed. He switched positions so his hands were over hers, her own palms against her skin. Sliding one up, he dragged it over her breast, squeezed, kept going north until he had the hand secured at her nape, elongating her front. The other hand he took south; rocked his hips a bit against her ass. “You don’t want me to stop, do you? Want me to make my pussy come?”
Their layered fingers reached her sex, and she whimpered when he curled his, which curled hers. Still controlling the rhythm, he worked their digits over her clit.
“You’re so wet,” Xander whispered, gathering the slick moisture on her fingers. Her back arched further; breathing hitched with every flick. “I bet….” Chin resting on her shoulder, he lifted her glistening hand to his mouth; sucked the juices clean and hummed in the affirmative, “Mmm-hmmm.”
Kizzie moaned, pushed her hips back to grind against his cock.
Another kiss to her neck and he released her, commanded, “On the bed.”
“Sir?” A passion-laced croak.
“You know I don’t like repeating myself.” She didn’t move. “What’s the problem, sweetheart?”
“S’just that…you mentioned another promise…ap-apart from 3-19 and,” she inhaled nervously, “I just wondered if now—”
“So the issue’s not that I’m going to fuck you, it’s when?” He palmed her thigh and her muscles firmed. “Do as you’re told.”
She reached the mattress, laid with her arms and legs perfectly straight as if any moment she’d be shot down the tube of a waterslide.
“Close your eyes.”
Her lids shut. “Can I ask why, Sir?”
“Tomorrow night you’re Sacha’s; tonight you’re mine, Princess.” Xander dimmed the lights then toed off his shoes and sat directly beside her, adjusted so his back was against the headboard. He stroked her hair until she released the breath she was holding, and then said quietly, “I don’t do fear, and I don’t want my sub afraid of me.”
* * * *
Chantilly, Virginia
The Crew was as close a group a bunch of highly trained covert specialists could be considering every member had trust issues up the wazoo. Still, there were things none of them knew about their teammates, personal things like family members, direct phone numbers and home addresses. Most agents didn’t stay in one place for too long when they weren’t on a mission. Kizzie Baldwin, Jack learned, was different.
He’d always admired Kizzie. She was a straight shooter, dependable and easy on the eyes. But even having worked with her he knew she never let anyone get too close. Apart from Gale, that is. Those two had a bond no one else shared.
It bothered him. He needed Gale to trust him; wanted to be the one she confided in.
In his hotel room Jack studied the latest information he’d acquired. The cellular phone had traveled to Canada by way of Medellin, Columbia; a flight path that originated in Panama. The only contact the phone had made, incoming or outgoing, was from a cell tower near Tocumen International airport.
He kept digging.
* * * *
Helsinki, Finland
She’d been on the bed so long she’d almost fallen asleep.
Almost.
He’d tugged the outer fold of the comforter over her, tucking her in it securely to keep her warm. Then, for the past couple hours, Xander’s soft tone relayed the ins and outs of being a submissive, the expectations of a Master, the subtleties of the Lifestyle; all the while doing nothing other than occasionally running his fingers through her hair. There she was, stark naked and horny from his toying with her, and the simple act of his hand gliding over her head was much more intimate than if he would have eased between her thighs and fucked her.
She wished he had. It would have kept their relatio—situation in perspective with the added benefit of an orgasm. Any other day that would go down as a win-win.
Mission accomplished, Kizzie mused. Xander said he didn’t want her afraid of him, and now she wasn’t. Wet for him? Yes—sopping. Afraid of him? Nope. Not one bit. She knew his touch, knew his scent…and responded like a wanton slut. He’d taken command of her body—no, she’d given him command of her body. And the way he’d sucked her essence from her fingers? Hot damn! Her pussy clenched just thinking about it.
He’d gotten her all hot and bothered, and then, bam! Classic Xander mindfuck. Left her dangling on the brink. Didn’t matter. She wouldn’t let it detract from her endgame. Just another steeplechase on the uphill course she was running.
“You’re used to working with a team, right, Kizzie?” he asked.
A warm hand passed over her hair again and she shuddered. Why she had a thing for his hands, she didn’t know, but her liking them seemed to amplify his caresses. “Yes, Sir.”
“While we’re at Sacha’s, I’m your team. As my submissive, you’re under my protection. No one touches you unless I allow it. Speaking to subs is okay—don’t speak to other Doms. Everything you do reflects on me, and Sacha will be watching. When in doubt, be subservient—overly so if need be.”
Which goes against everything I know. This train wreck ought’a be spectacular….
“Things you see tonight might be a lot more extreme than what was happening on my yacht. Whatever you do, don’t interrupt a scene.” Remembering her reaction in Mauritius she chuckled, and he added, “I’m serious, Kizzie. It would offend the host and then you’re subject to whatever he deems appropriate punishment.”
“Okay, Sir.” A few more moments passed in silence.
“Have you really considered what you’re doing?”
She heard a hint of trepidation in his tone that wasn’t there before. “Sir?”
“You’re all right with the possibility that you might…?”
“Might have to fuck Sacha?” she finished. She opened her eyes for the first time in hours, blinking to make out his face in the dimly lit room. Vision focused, she saw his steady chocolate gaze on hers. “Does that bother you, Sir?”
His hand stopped moving; he climbed off the bed. “Come undress me,” he said sharply.
Kizzie grinned. Apparently this little charade was getting too comfortable for Xander too. What better way to rekindle the awkward than by throwing sex into the mix? At this point, Kizzie didn’t care. Better to fuck and be done with it than discuss feelings any day.
She hopped up and sauntered to the light switch to adjust the dimmer. The fixtures illuminated fully, and she turned to find Xander standing at the foot of the bed wearing a superior expression. “Could you bend down, Sir?”
“Bow to my sub? Not a chance.”
Gonna be difficult on purpose, huh? She managed to keep her face neutral, stepping up on the bed behind him. Her fingers hooked the bottom of his tee shirt and she lifted it over his head, dragged it off his arms. Back on the floor, the moxie she’d gathered going from the bed to the toggle and back fled in the space between two of her thundering heartbeats. “Is this necessary, Sir?”
Arm hooked behind her back, he pulled her flush against him. “Are you questioning my decision, Princess?” He smoothed down her skin until his large hand gripped an ass cheek.
Kizzie’s breaths came in short puffs, resolving to review why she responded to him so effortlessly at a later date. Right now, she wanted the punishment his firm hold promised. “No, Sir. I…just don’t know if this is your preference or Sacha’s.”
“Consider it training for Sacha.” Instead of the spanking, he patted her lightly on the flank. “Doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy it. The pants, Princess. I’d like to take a shower and it’s easier wi
thout ‘em.”
She gulped, stared up at the ceiling while she worked the button of his jeans. Did he want her to…? “Will I be expected to bathe Sacha, too, Sir?”
Gaze moving laterally on a roundabout route to the floor, she dropped to her knees, tugging the denim and the boxers down his long legs. His hand steadied on her shoulder when she lifted on one foot to free him of the pants. She repeated the process with the other and kept her eyes locked on the wooden planks beneath her knees, which hurt like hell, incidentally. He didn’t answer her question, and that only built the anxiety that his answer would be in the affirmative.
“Eyes up, sparky,” Xander commanded, and without thinking Kizzie did as instructed, getting a good long look at his cock. Her mouth dropped open on a silent gasp, and he sniggered; chucked her under the chin. “See? You’re a natural. But close that or I’ll fill it.” With a wink he headed for the bathroom. “I can handle the shower on my own. Y’did good, Kiz. Go get dressed. We leave in an hour.”
The water started before she recovered enough to get off the floor.
“Son of a…” she muttered, annoyed that he’d gotten to her—again—and then dismissed her like it was nothing—again. She stared at the closed bathroom door, then turned on her heel and paused, glancing at his phone on the dresser. Horny or not, she was still an agent, and she was sure Xander’s mobile was filled with all kinds of key contacts she and her team could use.
She crept over to the device, careful not to touch it, and a closer inspection confirmed her suspicions. Beneath the darkened display screen she could just make out a biometric scanner on the lower right corner. A camera lens in the upper left was probably used for facial or iris pattern recognition, if not both. It was safe to assume he had it rigged for voice identification as well.
She wished her wizard were there to help. He could hack a satellite. She’d seen him do it.
“Dammit.” Kizzie fumed. Duquesne was prepared for every situation. Why else would he leave his phone accessible? He knew she’d try to check it. He was probably in that shower laughing his ass off, and she could do nothing but let him.
As it stood, Xander had all the control in this game, making it so she was constantly on her guard, reacting. It was time that changed.
At the closet, Kizzie pulled a navy suit from the wardrobe, helping herself to the dresser to find the rest of the items she’d need. Then, like a good sub, she sat perfectly straight on the edge of the bed and waited for Sir to come out.
* * * *
Towel wrapped around his waist, Xander left the steaming bathroom and paused. He glanced at his phone, seemingly undisturbed, and then at the naked woman on his bed.
“I told you to get dressed.” He smirked. Maybe she wants another spanking….
She stood and padded to him. “I know, Sir, but it would please me to dress you first. That is, if it would please you, Sir.”
Horrible idea. He’d already been thinking about her too much, the remnants of his conscience praying Plan B worked so he wouldn’t have to leave her with Sacha. Plan A didn’t consider her feelings at all. He should have left it at that. He was slipping.
He noted the clothes she’d set out. She’d gone through his things, probably in search of 3-19. She wouldn’t find it here. Either way, the violation angered him—a firm reminder that, bottom line, Kizzie was a secret agent trained to complete missions no matter the method. She didn’t trust him, and acting as his submissive or not, he shouldn’t trust her.
Xander ignored the suit and went to the closet to choose his own. “I can dress myself.”
“I understand, Sir, but if I have to do this for Sacha, I need the practice.” She shrugged and added, “Lots of experience getting a man out of his clothes—back in…”
He ground his teeth, let that info roll off his shoulders. She peeked at him, and he caught the wicked gleam in her eyes just before her head bowed again.
What game is she playing? Was she just trying to get him in bed? The honey trap was such an old tactic, but definitely effective. A man usually lost his senses after sex. Shoot your load then shoot off at the mouth. A woman like Kizzie had probably run the con time and time again to get Intel from a target, and he wouldn’t be another notch in that bedpost. That’s why he stopped toying with her when he had—it left her in the vulnerable position.
But now it seemed she was challenging his restraint. Fine by him. Kizzie wanted to really play at being his sub, he’d let her. He could guarantee she’d be the one who cracked first. He’d have her spilling secrets in a matter of minutes.
Strolling back to he, he let the towel fall. “All yours, Princess.”
Kizzie hesitated a half second, then grabbed the bottle of lotion from the bed.
She started at his chest, warming the thick liquid between her hands before her palms smoothed up his abs, passed over his pecs in luxurious strokes. Firm pressure provided a nice massage, and she dug a little deeper into his shoulders. His arms were next for the delightful treatment; extra time on his hands.
And then things got hairy.
The chafe of lotion against her skin and then her palms cuffed his right ankle, working their way up his calf. She smoothed up his thigh, rubbing and kneading, and the long division he started on in his head wasn’t enough to distract him. His abs clenched. “Kizzie…” he growled in warning.
“Hmmm?” Her response was all bubbly innocence, attention still lingering on his inner thigh. “Is this okay, Sir?”
The little wench. The back of her hand brushed his cock, twice, and he fought the instinct to toss her on the bed and sink into her. She wouldn’t win. Period. Four thousand, two hundred twenty-eight divided by three hundred thirty-four….
A few more agonizing caresses and she was at his other ankle, stroking up his calf, fondling his thigh. Shit.
Her lips pressed to his groin and he couldn’t take anymore. Gripping her upper arms, he snatched her from the floor. The astonished look on her face would have been hysterical if he wasn’t another type of “h” altogether.
“Enough.” Soft breasts mashed to his chest made the word come out less harsh than he intended.
“But your back isn’t—”
“Don’t play with me, Kizzie, ‘cause you’re this close to…” he trailed off, shaking his head. How she kept that doe-eyed look he didn’t know.
“‘To’, Sir?” Pillowy lips twitched.
“Glad you two are playing nicely. Expected to come back to a crime scene.”
Xander looked to see Phil looming in the doorway; scooped up the towel and wrapped it around her.
“No fair!” Phil objected, “Covering up such a nice view.”
Kizzie chuckled against Xander’s shoulder and whispered, “I think you just bowed to your sub, Sir.”
He didn’t need this right now. He had a stiff cock, an insubordinate sub, and a pain in the ass for a best friend—And a stiff cock. Shoving the corset and chains into Kizzie’s hands, he spun her by the shoulders, sending her on her way. “Go get dressed.”
She yelped when he smacked her ass, then turned around and saluted. “Sir, yes, Sir!” She giggled and strode past Phil. “Hey, handsome.”
They watched her depart before the big man held up his hands. “Please, don’t shoot. I’m unarmed.” He strolled into the room, laughing as he dropped into the desk chair. A black box went on the table and he leaned back, twisted the cap off a bottle of water. “You two seem to be getting along. She gonna be an issue, X?”
Xander went for the boxers on his bed, stepped into them, and followed with the navy suit pants. “No, we’re good. That was just a little sub training gone wrong.” At the dubious look in Marchande’s eyes he added, “I’m straight, Phil. Why do you smell like lemon?” Phil waved his hand dismissively and Xander shrugged, asked, “How’d it go?”
Phil relayed the info from his earlier recon. “Ten outside cameras, motion-sensors along the walls. Zero cameras inside—” he frowned, “What self-respecting miscr
eant doesn’t have interior cameras?”
“I don’t.”
“’Cause you, Xander, are not self-respecting.”
“You missed your calling,” he grumbled. “Sacha’s arrogant and disillusioned by thinking everything in his little castle is under his control. Only way in or out is through the front door, so why would he need cameras? His ego might work in our favor. What about guards?”
“Day guards clocked out a couple hours ago; count on maybe four to six being at the party tonight. Plant a few eyes and ears and we’ll get what we need.”
Xander nodded, slipping into the cream dress shirt, pleased with Kizzie’s choice.
“So, X,” Marchande said, pausing to take a swig of water, “this last minute plan B. For her or for Harvey?”
He looped the buttons of his shirt through the holes, not bothering to look up. “Harvey. Like I said, I haven’t gotten my priorities crossed, Phil. Just ‘cause I’m using her doesn’t mean I trust her. Ask me again and I break your jaw. Crystal?”
“Try that and I’ll dot your other eye,” Phil said with a smirk, motioning toward the scar across Xander’s eyebrow. “I know you, X, and I respect the choices you make about this life inside a life you’re leading. But don’t let the one outshine the other.”
Phil tossed his buddy a watch. “Thought you might also like to know, Sacha had a visitor today.”
“I’m listening.” He slid his hand through the bracelet and secured the clasp.
“How does Akio Takata strike you?”
Xander exhaled. “As another fuckin’ problem.”
7
Darkness descended on Helsinki, the nightlife thriving in spite of the light snowfall. In the back seat, Kizzie watched from behind the dark tint of the Range Rover as people packed the bars and discos, enjoying the end of a long day. Her days were always long, and they never ended. She hadn’t had a break from the job in a couple years, and, when she finally got one—demotion or not—she ran off to chase trouble that had nothing to do with her. She wondered what kind of defect she had in her brain that made her dedicate her life to this insanity.