Surrender

by Peters, Heather

  Isabella cried softly. "You, I want only you."

  Yes, he'd give her anything she asked. He flipped her easily onto her stomach, raised her to her knees, held her under the hips with one arm, and parted her legs with the other.

  He slid into her from behind. Her broken cry of pleasure escaped her lips, while he stroked her to completion. He bit her neck playfully, and pressed down just enough to inflict a tiny impression in her skin while he continued to piston his cock into her. Her orgasm exploded around him and he followed her into bliss, throwing back his head with a cry of triumph.

  How would he ever let her go?

  * * * * *

  A gauzy, bright yellow sundress caressed her in the lazy breeze. Isabella stood amidst fragrant pink peonies and purple azalea bushes in Lyon's opulent gardens. A ladybug alit on her dress, seemingly content to rest on the cottony fabric, and Isabella smiled at the peace she found among the myriad of rainbow colors she'd grown to love since childhood.

  Another ladybug joined the first and Isabella's thoughts turned to Lyon. This place, these roses, a castle in the mountains, all seemed like something from a fairy tale.

  But fairy tales didn't exist, except for the beast.

  Lyon Sauvage.

  Her jailer, her lover, or her savior?

  All or none?

  She'd agreed to come here and he'd taken full advantage of their agreement. Why shouldn't he?

  No, she admitted, as she watched a purple butterfly climb onto her finger, flutter its graceful wings, and then fly away.

  Face facts. He makes me feel wanted, loved, and sexy.

  Day dreaming soon turned to sleepiness. Isabella lay in the velvet grass, one hand over her eyes to block the sun. Surrounded by the sound of birds and the gentle swaying of the trees and heavenly flora, she dozed off.

  * * * * *

  "Did you take care of the matter we discussed, Gerard?" The voices of Lyon and his assistant, Gerard, woke her. Isabella hesitated, electing not to reveal herself. She couldn't help but catch a fragment of conversation that clearly concerned her situation.

  "Yes, sir. The debt has been paid. My people took care of this Al person Thursday evening."

  Isabella's heart slammed inside her ribs. Lyon had paid the debt before she'd even arrived. Why? Had Lyon been so sure she'd come to him?

  "Good work. And did you tell this "Al" person it would be in his best interest if he left the state permanently?"

  "One of my men personally escorted him to the state line, sir. He won't be bothering Miss Isabella again."

  His audible sigh of relief wasn’t lost on Isabella. "Thank you, Gerard. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting her."

  The ensuing silence told Isabella they'd left the area.

  Lyon had paid the debt, saved her and her father's business, and he hadn't hurt her. He'd kept his promise.

  Isabella wrapped her arms around herself, surrounded by the warmth of the summer sun. She inhaled deeply of the sweet, pungent fragrance of honeysuckle mixed with lilacs and roses.

  I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting her.

  She shook her head in disbelief a moment later. How can I leave now? What kind of woman would that make me? The same woman who left him five years ago after he gave his unconditional support and affection, she concluded.

  Yes, he'd given her an ultimatum. If she wanted the debt paid, she'd agreed to play his companion for the weekend and even have sex with him in public. She'd appeared in public wearing no underwear, submitted to his insatiable sexual cravings whenever the mood struck him.

  Harboring lustful thoughts of his insatiable appetite, Isabella envisioned his hands on her flesh, causing her to writhe with ravenous passion. Her nipples tingled as they rubbed against the bodice of her sundress.

  Lyon Sauvage had kept his word. Isabella realized he'd done all for her, and felt shame at the thought of leaving him. But her time with Lyon would end soon. Why did those thoughts make her sad?

  She had to admit the sensations she'd experienced during lovemaking was like nothing she'd ever felt before. There wasn't an inch of flesh he hadn't consumed. And yes, when I put my mouth on him, taste him on my tongue, I feel empowered. When he moans with pleasure and cries out my name, I feel sexy and wanted. And when he worships my body, slides into me so far I can feel him in my soul, I feel loved. No, she wouldn't leave Lyon.

  He'd taught her to feel like a woman, desired and lusted after by a man who seemed insatiable and with a one-track mind to bring her unending pleasure. He'd completed his part of the bargain.

  Now she would complete hers.

  * * * * *

  She slid open his armoire with unsure hands and thought about selecting some sex toys to tease and torture him but opted against it. She closed the closet and decided that tonight, she'd just torture him with her body. After all, he'd paid good money for the pleasure.

  She approached Gerard and asked him to prepare a special dinner of Lyon's favorite foods and something sinful for dessert. Gerard simply nodded, smiled, and disappeared.

  When Lyon returned to the house, Gerard had prepared a sumptuous dinner of lobster, sirloin steak tips, roasted garlic potatoes, and chocolate mousse for dessert. Isabella's mouth watered as she gazed at the feast, then at Lyon's look of approval. First step, accomplished.

  Suddenly, she found herself ravenous. She sat in the chair he'd pulled out for her, reached for her linen napkin, and perused the table.

  Ah, Gerard had added oysters to the menu. Good.

  They'd need all the strength they could get.

  Chapter Eight

  "What are you up to?" he asked later as she lit candles in the bedroom. "I'm supposed to be the one seducing you. Don't get me wrong, Belle. I'm not complaining." With raised eyebrows, she turned to meet his gaze. "Then you won't mind if I take the initiative?"

  Her eyes were stormy grey and he smiled. "On the contrary, please, take anything you want. I'm all yours."

  Why the change of heart? Never mind, I don't want to know. Just keep doing what you're doing.

  "Good, I'm glad you see things my way. Now, why don't you just lie down in the middle of the bed and leave the rest of the evening to me?" His eyebrows lifted as anticipation filled him with hunger.

  She turned from him and lit the last ivory taper, then blew out the long wooden match. The candlelit room threw shadows to the walls and revealed what lay beneath her long, diaphanous black gown. She lifted her arms and performed a pirouette, proving she hid nothing beneath the material, except herself. Lyon swallowed back a moan. The outline of her breasts were visible under the fabric, heavy twin globes topped with dark, elongated nipples, begging to be suckled; the V between her legs housed the nectar he longed to taste. His cock thickened when their eyes met, and she returned his stare with a sly smile that caught him off guard.

  "Take off your clothes, and lay back, Beast."

  Her voice brooked no refusal, and Lyon, anxious to do her bidding, returned her smile. Impatiently he pulled his shirt up and over his head, then threw it across the room. Hastily he unzipped his slacks and let them fall to the carpet. Her smoky gaze darkened then slid lower to rest at his erection. She touched her top lip with the tip of her tongue. He nearly exploded.

  "You're magnificent," she said.

  He held out his arms as she climbed on the bed. "Flattery will get you anything. You know that, don't you, my beauty?"

  She nodded. "How much do you trust me?"

  He settled on the bed. "Depends on what you're thinking." She held up silk ties, and he nodded. "I'll take my chances."

  "And I'll take you."

  He did her bidding with a modicum of amusement and arousal as she tied him to the head and footboard of the massive bed. She covered his eyes with another longer, wider square of fabric.

  He felt her slide off the bed and heard her rustling around by the bureau in the corner of the room. Within seconds, low classical music filled the air.

  "Tonight i
s for you." Her soft voice caressed his senses. Amidst the scent of roses surrounding him and the music floating through the room like a soft breeze, she approached him.

  He nodded, but again remained silent when he heard the wisp of clothing pool on the carpet and sensed her nakedness. His cock ached to be inside her hot channel, but he would play her game and enjoy every second of her dominance. This act of seduction pleased Lyon and a weight lifted from his heart.

  Her heavy breathing told him she was aroused; Lyon grew hungry for her as he sensed her nearness and her female scent. The bed dipped as she returned, and her long, unbound hair swept across his thighs, teasing upward to his nipples. His cock thickened. She tortured him, and he was willing to die from her touch. He could easily tear his ties and grab her, throw her on her back, and fuck her until pleasure engulfed them. But no, he would play her game, with the promise of the reward to follow. Her tongue invaded his mouth, circling his teeth and lips, tickling the roof of his mouth until his heart raced faster than a speeding car.

  "Isabella, darling, more, please."

  She obliged by trailing her tongue past his chin, her lips blazing a fiery trail to his chest. She began to nuzzle and then captured one beaded nipple between her teeth and bit down, just enough to make him arch his back and cause him to cry out in pleasure.

  "Witch." He heard a low feminine laugh, and closed his eyes, reveling in the magic of her mouth and tongue.

  As if her warm lips on his nipples weren’t enough to drive him insane, she made her way slowly down his torso, leaving fiery kisses on the way. Anticipation took his breath, as her tongue dipped inside his navel. He held his breath while she swirled her tongue in and out of the tiny crevice. Just before he cried out in surrender, her mouth lowered past his hips, lower, lower . . . .

  "Isabella . . . ." He warned.

  Finally, she reached her destination. Eyes tightly closed, Lyon basked in the sweet sensations of Isabella's lips on his cock. Her warm mouth exhibited blissful torture to his burning flesh.

  She suckled his crown, her long hair tickling his belly and groin. He reveled in the scent of her, the slight weight of her body over him. Her torturous lips slid to the sensitive underside, then lower to his tight sac, where she put him in her mouth and sucked.

  His control was crumbling, but he held back, sweat coating his brow. Don't stop, he thought, as she pleasured him with her mouth. He'd never burned so hot, so wild, in all his adult life.

  Isabella set him to flame like dry tinder, while holiday fireworks crackled low and exploded in the distance.

  "Belle," he cried, "Si vous plait."

  "Please, what, Lyon?" She crawled up his body then straddled him. Ah, yes, love, fuck me. As if reading his mind, Isabella moved and positioned herself over his aching cock. She lowered herself onto him until he was buried to the hilt.

  "Ride me, love, ride me over the edge. I beg you, Isabella. I cannot take much more."

  "Oh, but you will." She leaned and placed her nipple to his mouth. He latched onto the tight nub and sucked hard. "Yes, Lyon, please, more, more."

  "Give me your other nipple, Belle. Let me suck you until you come." She grew wet at his command, obeyed instantly. He tongued and suckled as if her flesh were a tasty treat. He loved the soft sounds of pleasure she made when he made a feast of those pebble hard nipples of hers.

  "I can take no more," he breathed. "Untie me, Belle, and we can go over together."

  "No," she breathed, "Not yet."

  She rode him harder and faster and he cried out, his head thrown back on the pillow as he roared out his pleasure.

  "Enough!" He tore the silk ties as if they were paper and slid off the cloth that covered his eyes. "I need to hold you." He rolled her onto her back and positioned his aching dick inside her.

  He brushed her hair away from her face and wrapped the thick strands around his wrist. "Open wide, darling, let me take you."

  Again, she obeyed.

  He pumped his hips, flesh slapping against flesh. He loved watching her writhe in his arms and fall apart, piece by sexy piece, as she cried out, her entire body shaking with release. A moment later, he joined her.

  He moved to his side, not to hurt her with his weight, and gathered her in his arms. "Rest now, love."

  "Mmm, tired," she said, then snuggled in his arms. Within seconds, her even breathing told him she'd fallen asleep.

  He brushed stray strands of her hair from her face and gently kissed her cheek, wishing the night would never end. "This is what we were born for, ma Belle," he whispered, raining light kisses on her nose and chin. "When are you going to realize we belong together?"

  She was all he ever wanted, all he ever needed. And maybe he'd gone about this seduction idea of his all wrong, but she was here now, in his bed, in his heart.

  "Please don’t leave me, Belle." He brought her warmth closer to his and choked out a breath. "If you do, I shall die."

  Content to have her near, a warm wave of peace settled over him. In the distance, Fourth of July fireworks continued to light the night sky with soft pops. Lyon closed his eyes, pulled Belle to his heart, and followed her into a deep and dreamless sleep. He'd fallen in love with his Beauty all over again.

  * * * * *

  She awoke in his arms, naked, warm . . . alive.

  With a long exhale and a wiggle of her hips, she relished his erection pressed against her rear. She would tell him she wanted to stay. If he forgave her, they could be together.

  She found herself on her back before she could speak.

  "Good morning."

  "Hmm." He nuzzled her neck.

  "Lyon, we have to talk, please."

  "Later. I need you now, Isabella."

  His eyes spoke volumes as she looked into his heavenly gaze. "Yes, I know." His cock nudged at her thighs, and she opened wide, welcoming him into her body. He slid into her and slowly rocked back and forth, in and out, in a lazy fashion, warm and so tender. Tears welled but she sniffed them back. Both silent as dawn broke over the horizon, they lay face to face, gazes locked, their bodies so close they were truly one. Isabella, once again, gave up all, as she and Lyon flew to heaven and back.

  * * * * *

  His silk shirt caressed her skin, her nipples stiff as the material rubbed against her flesh, his scent surrounding her. She sat at the table, sipping steaming black coffee. Ah, nectar of the gods, she thought, watching him sit across her from her, wearing only jeans, zipped halfway.

  His troubled frown told her more than she wanted to know.

  "Lyon."

  "Belle."

  As they spoke each other's name, together, they smiled.

  "I hope you can forgive me for taking advantage of you this weekend. But I have no regrets, Belle." He looked at her then, his eyes holding her gaze with a fierce hunger and warm possession.

  "No." Isabella shook her head. "No regrets." Tell him, you fool, tell him you want to stay as his lover, not a paid sex partner. No, that would do no good. He'd only think she'd want to stay out of a sense of false loyalty. She'd go and forever be grateful for the short time they had shared. He had brought her back to life, to face her fears, and to accept pleasure. But he didn't love her.

  "Did you want to tell me something?"

  She shook her head and rose from the table. "No, it's not important." For a second, she thought a cloud of sadness filled his eyes, but his expression changed so quickly, she wasn't sure if she imagined it or not.

  * * * * *

  The sky threatened rain, as the day grew unusually cool.

  In the glass-enclosed porch, Lyon held her in his arms, as they lay on a cushioned chaise lounge.

  "Lyon?"

  "Yes?"

  "I have some things I need to say."

  He swallowed hard from the sudden dryness in his throat. It's over, he thought. In the end, she was going to leave him before the agreement was over. He was wrong about her. She didn't love him. His plan had failed. But he would take every second with her
and make it count. Precious moments together were running out.

  "Of course." He nodded and kissed her deeply.

  "Why don't I get us a glass of wine while—"

  Lyon silently cursed the buzzing of his cell phone and reached over to a nearby glass table to retrieve it, annoyed at the interruption.

  "Hello?"

  It was Isabella's father.

  Damn, not now.

  "Yes. She's here."

  His heart bled as he handed her the phone. "It's for you." She took the phone from Lyon and activated the speaker. "Hi Dad, it's so good to hear from you."

  Her father's voice sounded happy and Lyon knew why. "I have good news." Isabella winked at Lyon. "What is it, Dad?"

  "The strangest thing happened, honey. Someone paid Al. Who could have done this? You didn't go into your mother's trust fund or sell her jewelry, did you?" Lyon watched as Isabella pretended ignorance. "Of course I didn't." Of course she didn't. She saved your sorry ass. If it wasn’t for her, you'd be at the bottom of some river, you fool.

  "Well, then who paid the debt?" After a slight pause, he answered his own question. "It was him, wasn't it, Bella? Did Lyon Sauvage pay the debt? What did you have to do? Bella, tell me, are you alright?"

  Yes, she's all right, old man. I'm taking care of her, which is more than I can say for you. Isabella shook away a tear and smiled at Lyon. "I'm perfectly fine, Dad. Yes, Lyon paid the debt. We both owe him our thanks for saving the shop." A long sigh reached her end of the phone. "Isabella, how will we pay him back?"

  "I took care of the debt, Dad. It's paid in full."

  "But how . . . ?"

  Isabella shook her head. "It's done, Dad."

  Lyon rose, walked toward the window, and leaned against the frame. Yes, it was done. Agreement signed, sealed, and delivered.

  "So when are you coming home, Isabella? We need to celebrate and discuss our shipments for the week."