Command

by Sierra Cartwright

  “They’re hideous,” she said.

  “And you’re hoping I let you take them home with you. Barring that, you hope you can find them in an online kink shop.”

  “Something like that.”

  He grinned and shoved both pairs beneath a pillow for safekeeping. “As deep as I was,” he said, “as hot as that was, I want more.”

  “I think my number of orgasms is around one dozen to your zero.”

  “We’ll work out an exact ratio later,” he promised. “But only if you put on a schoolgirl outfit. Plaid.”

  “Ah…”

  “That one was a joke.” He grinned.

  She scowled.

  He enjoyed the banter with her, another way in which their relationship was unique. “How are your wrists?”

  “The world feels like heaven since you took the balls off.” She tested the restraints. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Good, because now I’m really going to fuck you.”

  “We’re not done?”

  “As you pointed out, the orgasm to orgasm ratio is a bit skewed.” He and moved off her temporarily while he checked her restraints for himself. “I need you to lift your legs.”

  “Did you spend all morning dreaming up impossible tasks for me?”

  He took hold of the spreader bar and helped her to raise her legs. “Keep them in place.” Then he moved between her thighs.

  “I think this defies physics. At least common sense,” she said.

  “It does leave you a bit defenseless,” he agreed, kissing her forehead. “And you wanted me to fuck you hard. Go ahead and lower your legs.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll clobber you with the bar.”

  “You won’t.”

  As she shifted, he moved, getting into position so that her knees were resting on his shoulders, the bar was behind him and their bodies were molded against each other.

  Slowly, he warmed up her body again, taking it slow until her pussy moistened.

  Then he began to thrust. The edge he’d been on since she’d arrived sliced away at his restraint. He intended to possess this woman.

  “I like this. So, so much,” she said.

  She pushed her weight down on her shoulders so she could elevate her bottom, opening herself wider, inviting him even deeper.

  He wanted to make it good for her one more time. He shifted his balance onto his elbows. They were skin to skin, need to need.

  “My God,” she said. “I feel as if I’m…”

  He drove into her.

  She screamed.

  With her eyes closed, she tossed her head. But instead of trying to get away, she used her abdominal muscles to lift her body in silent entreaty.

  He obliged. It was impossible not to. The scent of her, arousal layered with a tantalizing vanilla that spoke of promise, made him aware of his masculinity and drove an instinctive need to be with her.

  Even though it was difficult, he focused on her, shifting so that he could reach a hand between them to rub a finger against her swollen clit.

  She sobbed, and it sounded like she’d said his name.

  “Come for me.” He rubbed harder then moved higher to squeeze her nipple. That shot a response through her, and he felt her body convulse.

  That pushed him toward the edge. His balls lifted, became taut. He raised up onto his hands so he didn’t crush her, then he stroked once, twice. He arched his back and groaned as he ejaculated deep inside her.

  His orgasm went on for long seconds, and he grunted with the raw pleasure.

  Strength seemed to have evaporated.

  He opened his eyes to see her staring up at him. Her body was as relaxed at it could possibly be given her restraints, and he reached to loosen the belt.

  As soon as she was free, she dug her hands into his shoulders, holding on, wordlessly letting him know that whatever he felt, she did as well.

  “Let me get you out of the spreader bar, too,” he said. Though he’d rather just collapse and gather her close, he adjusted them so that he could put her legs flat on the bed, then he released the ankle cuffs.

  He disposed of the condom in a nearby trash bin, then lay next to her and pulled her against his chest, tucking her beneath his chin, spooning his body around hers.

  A sheen of perspiration cooled on his skin, and he knew she’d quickly catch a chill. “Molly, temperature at seventy-three degrees. This zone only.”

  Instead of getting a smart-ass response like he expected from the system, he heard a faint mechanical sound then warm air whispered over them.

  “That was…”

  “Hard enough?”

  “I honestly don’t have words,” Aria said. “When you suggested this whole kink thing, I honestly wasn’t sure.”

  “And now?”

  “Is this ratio thing how it is in every time? Because I’ve certainly had relationships where it’s been tilted a bit in the opposite direction.”

  “I’m not sure how it is for anyone else,” he told her. “But for any submissive of mine, the number’s about right.”

  “Incredible.”

  He smoothed down her hair. “Is your body okay? Any soreness?”

  “Just my pussy.”

  “From the spanking?” He acknowledged he had been a bit rough with her clit while he’d fucked her. “I could get you a warm compress.”

  “No, it’s more of an internal thing.” She winced. “You fucked me hard.”

  Even though it wasn’t polite, he grinned, ridiculously pleased with himself.

  “Does this serve as a warning that I should be careful what I ask for?”

  “Happy to take care of my lady’s needs.”

  “And even a few she didn’t know she had.”

  Her words had made his ego puff up, and that was definitely not something to be proud of. “How about we get some work done so I can introduce you to the dungeon later? Not to play, just for you to have a look, explore, get comfortable, consider whether it’s something you want to take further.”

  “How am I supposed to do anything other than think about what you have planned?”

  “We’re in this together,” he assured her. Grant was realizing that, quite possibly, he was in deeper than she was.

  Chapter Six

  “A genius is trying to reach you.”

  “Again? How many times a day does he bother you?” Aria asked, almost having to shout over the sound of Julien’s theme music blasting through the workshop. She and Grant had met up about an hour ago. When she’d entered the super-secret space, she’d discovered that he’d made her a fresh cup of coffee and it was in a thermal cup so it stayed warm. It wasn’t just his cooking that was making it difficult for her to think of leaving. “How the hell do you get anything done at all?”

  “This is unusual,” he assured her. “In all the time I’ve been out here, he’s never called three days in a row.” Grant shook his head. “He’s proud of himself for throwing us together for this project. He needs to see how it’s going so he can gloat.”

  “That’s pleasant.”

  “Wait until he preens.”

  “He”—her mouth dropped open—“preens?”

  “And it’s every bit as traumatic as you might imagine. Should we ignore him?”

  “Will he call back?”

  “Incessantly. And email. And text.”

  “And sweet talk Molly into letting me use her channels so I can hear every word of what’s going on in that house.”

  “Or that,” Grant said easily, giving her a glimpse of how close their friendship really was. “Afternoon, Julien.” To Aria, he added, “Shall we turn the video on or make him wonder?”

  “I think he should see two of his key people hard at work.” As long as she didn’t try to move and reveal to him how tender her flesh was from her earlier scenes with Grant.

  The image of a lush rainforest faded and was replaced by a picture of Julien. He was standing in his office, hands tucked into the front pockets of his tailored jeans. He
wore a white Oxford shirt with the top button unfastened. For once he had on a tie, but the knot was so loose he might as well not have put it on. He rocked back and forth, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

  She and Grant exchanged glances.

  “You two are doing great,” Julien said. “I couldn’t be happier.”

  “Because we’re in the workshop having a coffee?” Grant asked.

  “No. Because your habits give you away. According to the research I’ve done, Aria hasn’t been complaining to David at all, nor has she called him to try to stick her clever ideas into the department he’s running on her behalf. She responded to emails this morning, but didn’t generate any new ones other than to check up on the project for Blanca.”

  That much was true, and she was embarrassed to realize maybe she was guilty of micromanagement to some degree. Like a lot of people, she used work to escape her real-life challenges.

  “Radar shows there’s been a miserable storm in that part of New Mexico, and she hasn’t called out search and rescue to come and get her.” He pulled one hand from a pocket and gave a cheeky wave. “Hey, Aria. Nice boots.”

  She shrugged when Grant looked at her.

  “A woman can rule the world in those boots,” Julien said. “Heels and leather? Put me six feet under and call me happy.” He exaggeratedly rolled his eyes back.

  “He did tell me I should wear them,” she admitted, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.

  “Good call,” Grant told Julien.

  “And as for you…” Julien continued, turning to Grant.

  Aria couldn’t wait.

  “You weren’t working at two o’clock this morning.”

  “How would you know that?”

  “I pinged you, and you didn’t answer. It’s been years since something like that happened.” He stuck his hand back in his pocket then directed his gaze skyward. “Years. If you were unhappy or brooding—”

  “I don’t—”

  “Oh, please. You’ve made it an art form,” Julien insisted. “As I was saying, you’d have been up all night.”

  Judging by that standard, she was obviously happy, too. After their rendezvous in the hot tub, she’d slept better than she had in a long time. She wasn’t as sure the same thing would hold true tonight.

  After he’d fucked her earlier, he’d held on to her for a long time, sharing his body heat. She was the type of woman who enjoyed snuggling, and Simon had not indulged her. After sex, he would roll over and go to sleep, most of the time still naked. If she touched him during the night, he’d move away, insisting he slept ‘hot’ and that her body heat made it impossible for him to get any rest. Over time, she’d adjusted to sleeping in a pair of pajamas with long pants because he didn’t even like to have a blanket on the bed.

  The sex with Grant had been astounding, and her further exploration into BDSM was shattering everything she’d always assumed about sex. She might have to telephone one of her girlfriends later to get some perspective. She’d always wrinkled her nose at the idea of being tied up or spanked, and yet both had happened within a twelve hour period.

  After they’d rested for a few minutes, Grant had gotten out of bed and returned with a warm washcloth. She’d reached for it, but he’d moved her hand aside, not even acknowledging her protests that he was spoiling her.

  She’d never experienced so many sensations at the same time, from the constriction of her arms to having her legs spread ridiculously far apart. He’d had her completely bound and helpless, but shockingly she hadn’t experienced even one ripple of fear.

  The vicious bite of the nipple balls had made her eyes water, and she hadn’t been sure she could tolerate the pain. But then he’d moved behind her, helped her sit up then picked up a mirror and held it in front of them. Their gazes had connected. At first, she’d seen a reflection of doubt in her own eyes. The magnetic silver balls had looked beautiful. He’d been right about that. Then she’d looked deeper, more closely at him. There’d been approval and encouragement in his blue eyes. And something more. Lust, no doubt. But also something tender as well. A man didn’t look at a woman with that expression unless he cared about her.

  The combination of regard and need had caused her to transcend the pain, and, in fact, had made her even hotter for him.

  “So come on, give it up. Am I a genius, or what?”

  “That remains to be seen. We’ve only been here twenty-four hours.” He looked at her.

  They had a shared secret, and the reminder made her tingle.

  “We haven’t come up with anything feasible for Bonds, yet,” Grant finished.

  She heard the subtext. For them, personally, things were definitely working.

  “Our next billion dollars is out there, waiting.” Hands still shoved into his pockets, Julien rocked forward onto the balls of his feet.

  “No pressure there,” Grant said.

  “The fate of the world is on your shoulders.” Julien’s body seemed to vibrate with energy, as if he hadn’t slept in days and didn’t need to.

  “Or the spring show,” she added.

  “That too,” Julien agreed. “But that doesn’t sound nearly as dramatic.”

  “You need to stop watching disaster movie promos,” Grant said.

  “Hold on,” Aria said as realization dawned. The theme music, the way he was talking, the fact he’d sent her into Grant’s lair. “You’re making a movie.”

  Grant looked at her, a puzzled frown on his face, darkening his eyes, forcing his eyebrows together. “What are you talking about?”

  “Always helps to diversify,” Julien replied. “I’ve always want to attend a premiere.”

  “Make friends with an actor,” Grant suggested.

  “Or own the carpet yourself.”

  “See why I like her?” Julien’s grin deepened. “I’m expecting great things from you, and I know you’ll deliver.” Without another word, the screen went blank.

  She and Grant looked at one another for a moment in silence.

  “Enlighten me,” he prompted.

  “Whatever he told us, whatever we believed originally, we were wrong. Don’t misunderstand. He adores the fact he can get what he wants—a new project developed especially while he’s meddling in our lives—but he’s operating from a higher purpose.” She waved a hand, indicating Grant’s workshop. “He is grooming you for a larger role at Bonds. I’m willing to bet he’s been telling you that all along. You just haven’t wanted to hear him.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Still not interested.”

  “You’re not going to have much of a choice.” Everything made perfect sense. If she were Julien, she might have come up with the same idea. “He’s diversifying into other areas that intrigue him. Of course he is. He gets bored, restless. But all of a sudden, he’s got a million projects going. Even though he is Julien Bonds, there are still only twenty-four hours in a day.” She began to pace. “He is interested in movies. And it’s time for advances there that are going to come out of Silicon Valley and not Hollywood, or…”

  She waved a hand, impatient with herself for not being able to sort out what she was thinking, put it in an order that would make sense to Grant, and express herself coherently. “A hybrid. Hollywood may have the idea, but the execution is going to require horsepower, in terms of computer programming, in terms of mainframe capacity. Have you seen him this excited before?”

  “In college,” Grant admitted. “Then again when we rented the first office in Silicon Valley, in the remains of a startup that had gone bankrupt. Then when he introduced his smart watch. And again when he broke ground on the Bonds headquarters. We dragged old furniture from our first office out there, piled it up, put a torch to it, and bam—fucking epic bonfire. We shook a bottle of champagne, launched the cork into the next county then realized we hadn’t brought anything to pour it into, so we swigged it straight from the bottle, just like college. Had them turn the dirt over, so the ashes are still there. You know Julien. Said it wa
s the past, present, future, all blended together. All very dramatic. Said we should have filmed it for the archives. You know, just in case someone wanted to watch it a hundred years from now.”

  She laughed. “I hadn’t heard that story.”

  “I’m surprised. I thought it was legend. We got a hell of a ticket. Something about not being allowed to have a fire in the city limits.”

  “Who knew?”

  He shrugged. “They wanted our tax dollars more than they wanted to make a point. And when they sent the fire trucks and police, a camera crew from a local news station was notified. So he got his footage. And yeah, it’s in a digital archive. And because he’s now a gazillionaire, we didn’t get arrested.”

  “All of those stories have one thing in common,” she said.

  He waited.

  “You. You’ve been part of all of that. And he needs you in the future every bit as much as he needed you in college, in the early days. He’s looking to you, to us, to provide infill and backfill.”

  “That sounds like human resources jargon—maybe even bullshit.”

  “I’m not expressing this well.” Aria strode to the window. This time, because her brain was moving so rapidly, she didn’t experience any vertigo at the sight of the sheer drop off. “In order for him to move onto the next big thing, he needs people he can trust. There will be a hole created in the organization when he turns his focus toward other things. He’s smart enough to see that.” She turned back to face him. “What I mean is this… You are going to fill the voids he creates. More and more, you’re going to be the face of the technology side of Bonds.”

  “Not interested.” Resolutely, he folded his arms.

  Stubborn man. No wonder Julien had sent her. At first, she’d thought he was punishing her for the Simon fiasco. Her broken engagement had made headlines, none of them good, for Bonds. If she hadn’t been so stunned and upset by his dictate, she would have realized that he didn’t behave that way.

  Certainly, he could be fucking ruthless if people betrayed him, violated their confidentiality agreement. He treated his people well, but she’d seen him ruin careers of people who’d plotted against him. And he had always known she wouldn’t do anything to harm him or Bonds. Sending her to New Mexico wasn’t an act of retaliation, it was an investment in the organization’s success.