Owned By Fate
Page 4
Caroline thought she might have nodded. “Please,” she whispered.
“No. You’ve had your pleasure; now I’ll take mine from those bratty little lips. They’ve been taunting me since you walked into my club.” He leaned in, eyes lit with something close to a frenzy as they zeroed in on her mouth. “Lick them for me.”
Without hesitation, Caroline’s tongue smoothed over her bottom lip before trailing over the fuller top one. It dawned somewhere in whatever consciousness she had left that they hadn’t yet kissed and it felt like sacrilege. She suddenly wanted that intimacy with a blazing intensity that defied logic. “What are you waiting for? Kiss me, Jonah.”
“Call me Master, and I will.”
She swallowed hard against the warning that echoed in her head. Bad idea. This is a very bad idea. But wanting to kiss him more than she cared about the consequences had her slipping off the precipice. “Kiss me, Master.”
A rough sound emanated from his throat as his mouth consumed hers. He sucked her top lip into his mouth before licking deep, tasting her so thoroughly, so demandingly, that her head spun. She felt his powerful body shudder, displaying a weakness so inconsistent with his strength, it shot her full of potent confidence. Made her want to exploit that weakness even further. In the back of her mind, she recognized the truth of his earlier words. She did hold the power. It was her final thought before everything but Jonah faded to black.
He dropped his hands to grip her bottom as he walked them backward toward the bed. When he sat on the edge, still kissing her furiously, her naked center pressed down onto his arousal, drawing her fleeting attention to the fact that she was completely naked and he still wore pants. The visual swamped her with heat.
Jonah pulled away for a split second, and they both gasped like Olympic swimmers coming up for air. “Fuck, Caroline. Wrap your legs tight. I want to feel the pussy I just finished satisfying.”
She did as she was told, squeezing his hips between shaking thighs, and started to rock. Her sensitive flesh quaked and dampened at the incredible sensation of riding his rigid erection.
“Good girl, just like that. Now a little more of that mouth and I’m going to come.” He wound her hair tight around his fist. “After this, the next time I come, it’ll be inside you, baby. That’s a fucking promise.”
Their mouths met in a turbulent meshing of lips. Jonah used her fisted hair to control the angle of her head as he drew a little of her soul out with every lick of his tongue. Caroline had no idea how long the kiss went on before he started groaning. It started as a distant rumble that grew louder until it turned into a loud, urgent growl. His hips began pumping upward beneath her, matching her rhythm, then increasing it, faster and faster until she couldn’t tell which one of them the throaty noise came from. Another orgasm, twice as intense, gathered in her belly like an oncoming storm, tightening her limbs. Sensing how close Jonah was to his own release and wanting to find completion with him, she slipped her hand between their bodies and stroked her clitoris once, twice, and let bliss spiral through her.
Jonah jerked away with a strangled groan, his chest and arm muscles contracting under sweat-dampened skin as his fists dug into the mattress. Still lost in the throes of her own climax, Caroline watched him in awe. Head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut as he roared, he was male perfection. Absolutely magnificent.
A moment passed wherein they both struggled to regain their bearings. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that she’d brought this powerful man to such a stunning release. As for what he’d done to her, without even being inside her…and the things he’d said…there wasn’t one experience in her past with which to compare it.
Jonah’s head finally came up, and their gazes locked. A corner of his mouth quirked up with lazy satisfaction, and she felt her own expression sheepishly mirror his. One of his hands reached toward her, seemingly to stroke her cheek…when Caroline heard the unmistakable sound of flesh being abused. Jonah’s hand paused in midair, his smile fading into a grim line.
It sounded as though it were coming from the room next door. Loud feminine wailing interspersed with the slap of a foreign object against skin. Suddenly, whatever moment had passed between them felt tarnished and cheap. Caroline’s surroundings greeted her in a dizzying rush, her conscience finally showing up after an hour-long vacation. She was sitting, stark naked, on this almost stranger. An almost stranger who owned this very club and practiced BDSM as a lifestyle. If she’d let him, he would be giving her the same kind of treatment as the woman next door, enjoying her discomfort.
Oh, God. How did she let it get this far? He’d made her a hypocrite and that, she found, was unforgivable. Worst of all, if she went back in time, she wasn’t so sure she would do anything differently. This man…he’d caused her to question her own convictions. Forget herself and her professional objectivity. Pleasure hadn’t been on the menu tonight—dirt for her story had. She needed to get away from him and this place immediately. Caroline scrambled off his lap, dropping to the floor to gather her clothing with shaky hands.
She jerked when his warm hand landed on her shoulder. “Listen to me. I brought you to this floor to show you around. It was never my intention to end up in this room.”
“Oh yeah?” Somehow she steadied herself long enough to drag her skirt up her legs. “Did you have a master plan you neglected to share with me?”
“I live upstairs. If anything, I should have taken you there.” His voice deepened drastically, making something hot clench inside of her. “If I thought there was a chance you’d like what you saw, I never would have brought you upstairs around other men, Caroline. Not unless you were wearing my collar.”
She fell back a step, as if his statement had physically shoved her. “Collar?” she choked. There was no bigger wake-up call. She knew nothing about this world, and while she may have suffered from a brief episode of insanity, that one word had effectively cured her.
Suddenly, Jonah was standing in front of her, shirtless, radiating harsh masculinity. Caroline quickly averted her eyes, worried that if she glimpsed his matching expression, her resolve to hightail it out of there might slip. “If you think you can walk out of here and forget what just happened, you’re lying to yourself.” He took a step closer. “It was incredible, sweetheart, and I haven’t even let myself fuck you yet.”
“Let yourself? Yet?” As if it were a whim he’d neglected to indulge but planned to act on whenever the next occasion arose? She latched onto that statement, let it fuel her anger. “I told you there wouldn’t be a next time, so I guess you’re going to have to go fuck yourself.”
“There will be a next time.” Jonah’s fingers curled around her jaw, and he leaned close to her upturned face. “You called me your master, Caroline. It’s still ringing in my skull. You remember what I told you?”
“It is just a word,” she gritted out, wondering why she felt a tiny shred of doubt.
He laughed under his breath. “It’s going to be my pleasure proving you wrong. Over and over.”
Ignoring the awareness creeping into her belly, Caroline jerked her chin out of his hand and stormed out of the room without looking back.
Chapter Five
“Explain to me again why you’re suddenly so interested in my latest business deal?”
Jonah settled back into the seat of his friend Asher Laurie’s town car and paused in the action of fastening his seat belt. “What? No ‘good morning’?”
Asher’s gaze narrowed on him. “Honestly, Briggs, it’s eight o’clock in the morning. Much too early for me to attempt cracking your mystery codes. Just give me a hint as to why you’ve developed a keen interest in my acquisition of Preston’s. I don’t want any surprises in this meeting. It’s too important.”
Jonah merely smiled and took a sip from his paper coffee cup. It certainly paid to have friends in high places. Friends who were just as grateful to know him when they needed a certain itch scratched discreetly. Being that he rarely called in an
y of those favors from his friends, including Asher, he figured an explanation of his behavior this morning was unnecessary. No, his reason would remain his own, and it comprised of one simple thing:
Caroline Preston.
Asher was currently angling for a possible merger with Preston’s, her family’s financial magazine. The merge would combine several of Asher’s magazines into one and give it a forbidden edge, targeting the wealthy, adventurous, and open-minded. Much like Jonah’s own clientele. Preston’s was actually in danger of folding without the merger, a fact that had troubled him more than he cared to admit, wondering how drastically it would affect Caroline.
Three days had passed since their encounter. Since watching her run away like a herd of buffalo was stampeding after her, not an hour had passed that the thought of her didn’t arise. But while seeing her again was a major priority, he had his personal interests to protect as well.
He should have guessed she’d be a damn journalist. A brilliant, insightful one at that. After the bar’s credit card system had yielded her last name, Preston, one Internet search had generated dozens of articles, written by her or about her, popping up on the screen. Jesus, he’d actually gotten rock hard reading one of her articles about commodities trading. He’d imagined her reading the words next to his ear, wearing those snobby glasses, those delicious lips occasionally brushing against his neck.
Unfortunately, on the heels of finding out what Caroline did for a living, he’d developed a pretty strong idea of why she’d been at Serve on Friday evening—an idea verified when Asher confirmed her intentions over the phone. It wouldn’t be the first time a journalist stepped foot inside Serve, but it would be the first time one made it upstairs without at least signing a confidentiality agreement. That was entirely on him. Not that he would change a single thing about Friday night, apart from her abrupt disappearance. But she wouldn’t be getting away with it quite so easily, either.
If she meant to run an article about Serve in order to gauge readers’ tastes, he meant to have input. Six months ago, he wouldn’t have given a shit. He paid his taxes and followed safety codes to the letter. Nothing could touch him.
That was then. Back before he’d been blindsided by the news that he had a daughter. A daughter he might never meet, thanks to his profession. Not that he wasn’t trying like hell. Had been since the day he found out.
He wouldn’t allow some misadvised article to ruin his chances of gaining visitation with his daughter by painting his business as a house of sin. Even if, at the end of the day, there might be a ring of truth to that description. Especially where his thoughts of Caroline were concerned ever since they’d been together in that upstairs room.
The memory of how she had looked, cheeks flushed, nipples beaded, belly pressed against his erection as she begged…Jonah nearly crushed the cup of coffee in his fist. He couldn’t even think about what came after in the room. Not while in polite company, anyway.
He wasn’t about to let her get away before they finished what they’d started.
“Silence? That’s your answer.” Asher sighed dramatically as he pulled away from the curb. “I’ve got fifteen minutes this morning to convince Oliver Preston’s uptight sister to consider the merger. It’s a feat in itself that she’s agreed to write the article to test the waters.” He took a hard right turn. “She’s the deciding vote, you know. I need a wild card like I need another ex-wife.”
Jonah kept his features schooled as he absorbed those pieces of information. “We can work it in your favor, then. Simply tell her you’ve brought me along as an expert to answer any questions she might have. She’s a journalist, right? She’ll want the article to be balanced.”
“Right.” He measured Jonah with a glance. “So, how’s this going to go? Princess Bitchy, I’d like you to meet my BDSM consultant?” Asher snorted. “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you don’t exactly put people at ease.”
“Somehow, I think she’ll manage.”
Asher stopped a little too quickly at a red light. “Do I even want to know why you sound so confident in that assumption?”
Jonah took a sip of his coffee. “Doubtful.”
Twenty minutes later, an elderly receptionist had escorted them into a glass-walled office. Inside, a young, dark-haired man with a phone pressed to his ear waved them in with a distracted smile. He looked almost bored as he spoke into the phone, feet propped on the edge of his desk. He shared the same coloring as Caroline, but the similarities seemed to end there. Siblings, perhaps? Though for siblings, they looked nothing alike. Even their mannerisms were different—Caroline brisk and precise while this man lounged in his armchair like a woman should be feeding him grapes. Finally, he hung up the phone, put his feet back on the floor, and split a look between them.
“Full disclosure, gents. Caroline isn’t in the best mood today, and the macchiato I slipped her did fuck-all to improve it. So I hope you brought your A game.” Chuckling over Asher’s groan of distress, he reached a hand out for Jonah to shake. “Oliver Preston, good to meet you.”
Caroline’s brother, then. “Jonah Briggs,” he returned, taking Oliver’s offered hand. He already knew more about Caroline’s brother than she probably did. After deciding to accompany Asher to this meeting, he’d been surprised to discover Oliver was a new member at Serve. An active new member recently entered into their rapidly expanding database.
Oliver narrowed his eyes. “Jonah Briggs…as in the owner of Serve?”
He nodded.
“I heard you never leave the control booth.”
Jonah took a drag from his coffee. “Made an exception today.”
Oliver’s expression was speculative as he rolled a pencil between his fingers. “I usually hit up Serve on Friday nights. Thank God I skipped last Friday, though. Caroline informed me this morning that she stopped by for a drink.” He arched an eyebrow. “Could have been awkward.”
“She stopped in? You don’t say.”
“I do say.” He tossed the pencil onto his desk. “She couldn’t get out of there fast enough. I repeat, fellas, A game.”
As if on cue, Caroline came into view. Visible through the glass wall, she looked deep in thought as she scanned the contents of a folded-over newspaper. Jonah felt his blood heat as she strode into the office and he glimpsed her in daylight for the first time. He’d been right about her hair. Melted caramel. But the lighting in his club hadn’t done justice to her skin. She fucking glowed. His mouth went dry with the need to bite her. Anywhere. It didn’t matter. Just enough to get a decent taste. She glanced up just as she entered the office, her expression transforming from intent to bored in seconds.
Until she saw him. Her easy stride ground to a halt, beautiful green eyes flashing wide. “W-what is— What? That is…who?”
Jonah smiled.
There was a beat of silence before Oliver’s laugh broke through it. “What kind of an entrance is that?”
Caroline visibly shook herself and looked at her brother as if in a daze. “I thought this meeting was between us and Young Michael Douglas.” She winced. “Sorry. I meant Asher Laurie.”
Asher waved off her apology good-naturedly, obviously trying to get on her good side. “Don’t apologize. I could do worse.”
“I believe my sister just implied you’re approaching silver-fox territory.” Oliver stacked his hands behind his head. “Maybe this meeting isn’t as doomed as I thought.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” Caroline said, finally appearing to recover from seeing Jonah in her place of work. She shot him a glance and licked her lips nervously. Jonah barely stifled a groan. As far as he was concerned, they might as well be the only two people in the room. Maybe it made him a bastard, but he was thoroughly enjoying her discomfort. Watching her shift around in her high heels, knowing the movement made her thighs rub together, was driving him crazy. At the same time, watching her reclaim the situation so speedily made his admiration grow. She was something, all right.
> Asher cleared his throat. “Shall we get started?”
Jonah lifted an eyebrow at Caroline when he saw her internal debate written all over her face. Obviously, based on her brother’s attitude, she’d correctly deduced Jonah hadn’t spilled her secret. Still, she clearly wanted to question his presence but also must realize doing so might reveal that they knew each other. He wouldn’t let that happen, of course. It would do nothing to help either of his causes.
That didn’t mean he wouldn’t let her think him capable of it.
In the end, she sat heavily in an armchair and nodded at Asher to proceed. Smart girl.
…
What in the holiest of hells is Jonah Briggs doing here? This man, the same one who made me explode with the assistance of a feather, is five feet away from my brother. It’s wrong on so many fucked-up levels that I don’t know where to start.
Even worse, when she’d first seen Jonah, in that split second before dread cold-cocked her in the jaw, her belly had flipped over like a Bisquick pancake. She’d experienced that shameful, now-familiar wave of awareness. The one that had risen inside her, instantaneous and powerful, every time she’d thought of him since Friday night. His fingers moving between her legs, their mouths moaning into each other’s. She’d completely lost sight of her convictions that night, and the near-constant craving for more was her sexually frustrated punishment. She’d been confident it would fade with enough time and distance, yet here he was, in her territory, staring at her as though he’d like nothing more than to drag her into the nearest supply closet and fuck her senseless.
Good God, when did you start thinking in such disgusting terminology?
Since she’d been blasted into another stratosphere by a man who preferred to be called Master and dropped the P-word with impunity. Not exactly her usual type.
Never in her wildest dreams—and she’d had some wild dreams over the last couple nights—did she imagine Jonah would show himself so soon.
Or at all. Sure, he’d made it clear he wanted more physical interaction with her, but didn’t men always say things they didn’t mean in the heat of the moment? Surely he didn’t actually intend to be her…master. Caroline ignored the deep fluttering she encountered at the thought of such determination to, essentially, own her. She certainly hadn’t expected him to pursue her. Why would he? She’d been emphatic about having zero interest in his world. A world that defined him. He owned the club and lived right above it, for chrissakes.