She ignored the spicy concoction on her plate, and then she detected a subtle change in the air. Someone was there, trying to get through. The older man was back. Raising her head, she caught a glimpse of mist behind Sebastian’s chair. There was a lingering sense of guilt in the mist, a deep-seated regret.
“You and your father weren’t close. He’s sorry he never reached out to you.”
Sebastian froze, his serving spoon still in the dish of vegetables. “How do you know that?”
She relished the perplexed look in his eyes. “It sucks, doesn’t it?”
He slammed his spoon on his plate, sending up a loud clatter in the room. “Don’t say sucks.”
She picked up her fork. “Sorry. I just meant I know how hard it is having a parent not give a … darn about you. I always came after my father’s congregation. He missed all my high school volleyball games because of his church.” She played with the spicy vegetable mix. “The only event he ever attended was my high school graduation.”
“You were on a team?”
She forked a small piece of broccoli. “I made varsity in my sophomore year.”
“You? But you’re always so … dangerous to be around.”
She took a bite of the broccoli. “I was always a klutz in school. But on the volleyball court, I was … coordinated.” She munched on her broccoli, watching him. “Did you play any sports in high school?”
“Football. Running back.”
“Wow, a jock. I always wanted to date a guy on the football team.”
He lifted the lid on another chaffing dish. “Why didn’t you?”
“My father didn’t let us associate with boys in high school. But it didn’t matter. None of the boys I went to school with paid much attention to me.”
He put a serving of the duck smothered in red peppers on her plate. “Well, I would have asked you out in high school.”
“I doubt that. I’m sure you only dated cheerleaders.”
“Actually, my girlfriend in high school was the editor of the school newspaper.”
“Ah, you liked the brainy type.” Sam speared a piece of duck with her fork.
“I liked her brain,” he returned, pushing some of the duck on his plate. “Sylvia was smart, funny, and a good friend.”
“What happened to her?” She took a bite of the duck.
“I have no idea.” He sat back in his chair and the lighthearted gleam in his eyes faded. “I never stayed in touch with anyone from my past. It saves me having to explain about my life.”
The comment, and the spiciness of the duck, took her by surprise. “What about your father? How would you explain your lifestyle to him?” She stretched for her champagne.
“I don’t have to explain why I do what I do to anyone.”
“What about telling me? I would like to know why.”
He pointed his fork at her plate. “Eat your dinner.”
She put her champagne down and went to select another piece of duck when the collar tugged on her neck. This wasn’t what she had envisioned when she agreed to be his. This submissive thing was turning out to be a real pain in the ass.
* * *
In the kitchen, they put away the dishes together, stored the leftovers in his fridge—on the shelf he had set aside for prepared food—and he showed her how to work his expensive German coffeemaker.
“In the mornings, you’re to prepare my coffee and have breakfast waiting for me when I come downstairs.”
“Breakfast?” She grimaced. “Well, I hope you have Pop-Tarts and Toaster Strudel around, because unless I can put it in the toaster, there isn’t a lot I know how to cook.”
“You can’t cook? What about that marinated chicken and potatoes you had in your fridge the other night?”
“Pre-made, from the grocery store.” She snorted, walking to the kitchen doorway. “I can boil water and I’m a whiz with a microwave, but sautéing and frying … I’ll probably burn your penthouse down.”
He shook his head, trying like hell not to laugh. “I should have guessed. Fine, I’ll teach you how to cook. In the evening, we’ll spend some time in the kitchen together.” He slid his arm around her waist. “Your mother never bothered to teach you how to cook?”
“She wasn’t around much when Bev and I were growing up.”
He stopped and faced her. “There are worse things a parent can be than invisible.”
“Like what?”
A crash from the kitchen startled them. Jogging back into the kitchen, they found a single dish from one of the cabinets sitting on white granite countertop.
“That’s odd.” Sebastian inspected the plate. “Must have fallen out of the cabinet somehow.”
Sam didn’t enlighten Sebastian about her suspicions. She knew what it meant. Someone was trying to be heard.
* * *
While the living room lights went out, Sam dutifully followed Sebastian up the stairs to his bedroom.
“Take off your clothes.”
While he slipped into his master bathroom, the tingling of excitement returned to Sam’s stomach. She was removing her blouse when he came back into the room, holding a small bottle in his hand. He placed the bottle on the bedside table and began undoing his shirt.
“I want to try something with you.”
She took her blouse to a fancy wooden bench outside the bathroom doorway. “You can do whatever you want to me. I told you … I trust you.”
He finished with the buttons and unzipped his trousers. “I would be remiss in my duties as your Dom if I did anything to you that you did not wholeheartedly consent to.” Sebastian shoved his pants and briefs to his ankles.
Sam pushed her jeans over her hips. “I’m willing to try whatever you want.”
Stepping out of her underwear and jeans, she put them aside on the bench. He was shrugging off his shirt, coming up to her with a pensive frown. “Do you know how tempting those words are to me? You’re lucky I’m such a patient man.”
She was too distracted by his shredded shoulder muscles, carved abs, and his generously sized—
“Are you listening to me, Sam?”
She glanced up at him. “You’re a patient man, yes, I know.”
His arms went around her, snapping her bra free. “You’re exasperating. Do you know that?”
The kiss he gave her was delightfully intense, like the first time he had kissed her. Bursting with all the promise of the heated exchange to come, his kiss captivated her. She opened her mouth, wanting more, and when he held her close, the tingle in her stomach exploded into a ball of fire.
Lifting her into his arms, Sebastian carried her to the bed. Dropping her on his thick comforter, he arched over her naked body, planting his hands on either side of her shoulders.
“This is your first night under my roof.” His eyes peered down at her. “I want it to be special.”
She traced her fingers over his chest. “It already is.”
“Roll over, baby.”
While she did as she was told, Sebastian reached for the small brown bottle on the bedside table. With her head resting on her hands, Sam waited to see what he had planned.
His oiled hands rubbed along her back, pressing his thumbs into her as he went. Sebastian concentrated his efforts along the thick muscles on either side of her spine until he reached the base of her neck. Working in circles, he kneaded the area around her black collar.
Sam sighed when he began massaging her shoulders. His hands were heavenly: the perfect combination of strength and gentleness.
He took his time with her, as if memorizing the details of her body. His hands deeply kneaded her butt, pressed into her strong thighs, and gingerly rolled her calf muscles from side to side, relieving all of her tension. When he pried her legs wide apart, she moaned, eager for what was coming next.
Working the oil into her still tender folds, Sebastian was tenacious, probing every inch of her. Sam’s heart raced, waiting for more, but when his hands moved away, she was disappointed.
Until he slipped his finger into her butt.
She tensed, and he patted her behind. “I’m not going to hurt you. Relax for me.”
Sam tried to do as he asked, but the way he kept working circles in her ass was far from relaxing. He slipped his other hand into her wetness and began moving in and out.
“Just go with it, Sam. Let me show you how to come hard.”
She clenched the comforter. He was making her groin explode. Not what she had expected. Sam raised her hips, hoping he would go deeper. When he slid another finger into her butt, she winced, but the pressure of his fingers seemed to electrify her pleasure.
“Good girl,” he praised, moving deeper.
She was up on all fours, rocking in time with his motion, swept up in what she was experiencing. This was so much better, so much more intense. Sam mewed as her climax began. She was grasping the comforter so hard her hands hurt, but she didn’t care. All Sam wanted was to the feel that rush. The quivering began in her thighs, rose upward to her back, and then she threw her head back and uttered a deep, throaty groan. The release was unrelenting and seemed to go on and on.
Drenched, she fell back on the comforter. Sam felt him on her back, and she thought he was going to hold her until he flipped her over to face him.
Taking her hand, he guided it to his cock. He was hard, rock hard.
Sebastian slapped a condom package into her hand. “Here, put this on me.”
Sam had to struggle a bit with the package to get it open, but once she did, she dropped the condom on the bed.
“I lost it.”
The frustration in Sebastian’s eyes was palpable. He searched around until he found the condom under her leg. Sitting back on his heels, he held the condom out to her. “I want you to do this.”
Sitting up, Sam studied his penis. This was no banana, like in her sex ed class. Her teacher, Dr. Crestin, had made it look so easy. To Sam, scuba diving might have been easier.
She gently reached for his cock, and she did not know why, but the words of her sex ed teacher came back to her, and she slowly rolled the condom down his shaft. Thankfully, something that she had been taught in high school finally came in handy.
“Very good.” Sebastian moved toward her, making her recline on the bed. “I’m impressed.”
“I got an A in sex ed.”
The laugh that he gave her was so genuine that she giggled with him. “Why do you surprise me at every turn, Sam Woods?”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“It’s just something I’ve never had before.”
She ran her fingers down his chest, liking the feel of his muscles. “That sounds kind of boring.”
“It was a little.” He bit her earlobe as he lifted her right leg over his shoulder. “But then I found you.” He rammed into her.
Sam closed her eyes as he pushed to her depths. She held on to him, waiting for him to begin thrusting.
“Open your eyes, Sam. I want you to look at me.”
When her eyes opened, Sebastian gently eased out and shoved back into her. His eyes stayed on hers, and the intimacy Sam experienced was unexpected. In that instant, she knew she was his, and Sam wanted to go on being his for as long as fate would allow.
Sam was awakened by a gentle nudge. Inspecting her new surroundings, she bolted upright in the bed.
“Hey, you all right?”
Sebastian was sitting on the edge of the bed. There was a dark shadow of stubble across his chin and jaw, and his deep brown wavy hair was disheveled.
She touched a wayward lock poking up from his temple. “I just woke up in a strange place and got scared for a second.”
“This is your home now, Sam.” He stood from the bed. “Time to take a shower.”
He walked to the bathroom, and she admired his firm ass.
I will never get tired of looking at that.
Standing from the bed, she caught a glimpse of the city through his bedroom windows. The sun was just creeping over the horizon, and the river was already crammed with large ships carrying their cargo to far off lands. Sam marveled at the coming day. All thoughts of getting to work, stressing over bills, and planning her life were gone from her mind. She could just enjoy the view without worrying.
“Sam?”
Shuffling into the bathroom, another lazy yawn escaped her lips. The crack of his hand slapping her butt jolted her awake.
“None of that. You must be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning.”
“Who are you? The Marquis De Sade? I’m not coherent until I’ve had my coffee.”
He flipped on the water. “If this attitude persists, I will have to have a nice long spanking session with you.”
She bit back her grumpy groan.
Before entering the shower, Sebastian shoved a washcloth in her face. “You will wash me.”
Lathering the cloth with soap, Sam washed his shoulders and down his back, admiring the thick muscles. Cupping the washcloth around his hard ass, she took a little extra time to play with his butt.
He turned around, grinning. “I hope you are just as enthused about my cock.”
Meeting his grin with a smirk, she dropped her hands to his growing erection. She covered it with a thick film of soapy lather and was about to lower the washcloth to his balls when he held her hand. Taking away the washcloth, he demanded, “Use your hands.”
Covering his cock with her hands, she began stroking him. Instead of closing his eyes—like Phil always did—Sebastian watched her, noting her technique. He was making her nervous, and once her hands slipped.
“Pay attention to what you’re doing. You need to please me, Sam.”
Nodding her head, she pumped her hand up and down his shaft. She could feel the blood throbbing beneath the surface of his bright pink skin. He began grunting, moving his hips in time with her hand. He gripped her shoulders, squeezing hard, and then let out a soft moan as his cum spewed out of him.
Leaning back against the white tile, he wiped his wet hair away from his face. He didn’t say anything and lifted a bottle of shampoo from the shelf. Instead of washing his hair, he washed hers.
She giggled as the shampoo bubbled and drizzled down her neck and cheeks. His hands were so gentle. That amazed her most about him. He was so strong, so capable of inflicting torment, and yet, he could be so tender.
Their shower done, Sebastian toweled her off and, stepping up to the vanity, he reached for his electric razor.
“Go downstairs, turn on the coffeemaker, and make breakfast.”
“Shouldn’t you have a timer on that fancy machine?”
“I do, but why use it when I have you?” He pointed to the doorway.
Mumbling as she went, Sam exited the bathroom. From the bench by the door she retrieved her clothes from the night before.
“What are you doing?” he questioned from the bathroom.
“Getting dressed. Why?”
“No clothes, Sam. You’re to walk around my home wearing only your collar and nothing else.”
“What if someone comes over … like your maid, or gardener, or a delivery guy? Still want me naked?”
“I will alert you when anyone is coming up to the penthouse. Then you can dress.”
She stood up, placing an impertinent hand on her hip. “If I’m to walk around naked all day, I hope that means I get to control the thermostat … unless of course, you want me to catch pneumonia.”
He shook his head. “Fine. Just get my coffee started.” She went to the bedroom door. “And don’t burn down my house. Just make me some toast and scrambled eggs … if you can manage that.”
“I hope you like your eggs chewy,” she called, right before she darted out the bedroom door.
It took her ten minutes to remember how to turn on the fancy German coffeemaker. Once she was convinced the coffee was actually brewing, she opened his refrigerator and searched for eggs.
When Sebastian strolled into the kitchen—smartly dressed in a blue pinstripe suit and s
ilver tie—Sam was knee-deep in disaster. She had burned the toast—twice—because she couldn’t figure out how to work his fancy German toaster—the directions were in German. His eggs were slightly charred—she had forgotten to turn down the flame on his gas cooktop. A selection of jams and jellies were spread out on his kitchen countertop, because she wasn’t sure which one he wanted. Damn man had ten of them in his refrigerator.
Who has boysenberry jelly?
“What have you done?” He gaped around his kitchen.
“I told you I can’t cook.” She set a plate of scrambled eggs on the kitchen counter in front of him. “You might want to put ketchup on these. It will help hide the taste.”
“Sam, how can you screw up eggs?”
“I don’t know. I thought they didn’t look done.”
He eyed the pile of toast on another plate. “The toast is burnt.”
“Buy American next time. What is it with you and German appliances?”
His shock grew as he spied the pile of pots in his usually pristine sink, the wisps of smoke in the air, and the assortment of bowls and spoons cluttering his cooktop. “You’ve trashed my kitchen.”
“I thought I wasn’t here for my cooking skills.”
Sebastian went to the coffeemaker. “Just make sure you clean it all up before I get home.”
“Yes, boss.”
He snatched up a mug from the counter next to the coffee maker. “Don’t call me that. It’s Sir.” He poured the coffee into his mug. “At least you got the coffee right.”
Sipping his coffee, he looked over the brim of the mug at her. “We’d better give you something to do that doesn’t involve fire or power tools.” He took another long sip as Sam waited. “Today, I want you to go through a list of sexual acts I have prepared. Things I want to do to you. You are to read up on each one, learn about them.”
“But what—?”
“This is important, Sam. You need to be an active, consenting member of this arrangement. I want you to be well aware of what I have planned for you.”
“I’m starting to get a pretty good picture.”
He put his coffee down. “I need things to be very clear between us.” He wiped his hands together. “Come with me.”
Dark Attraction: The Corde Noire Series Page 18