Invincible (Elite Doms of Washington Book 6)

by Elizabeth SaFleur

  “Oh!” She snapped her fingers and pulled her phone from her pocket. Before he could puzzle out that all that batik fabric had pockets, she furiously swiped at her phone screen. “Thank the goddess. They’re open.” She looked up at him, the storm clearing from her eyes. “When’s the last time you got to do your favorite yoga move?”

  “This morning.” He held out his arms. “What? You think this body is achieved by Sumo wrestling alone?”

  “Eric, I think I might love you.” She pulled him toward the stairway leading down to the front entrance.

  He winked at her. “That’s what all of Alexander’s women say.”

  She mock punched him. “Careful. I’ve also done Krav Maga.”

  He’d tuck that away for future reference, because this woman had a temper under all that pretty. He liked it. Alexander’s world had no room for the jealous types, but also no room for pushovers. She was going to be fine—with his help. Guess this friend thing was going to work out after all.

  Deep breaths were underrated. Sixty-five of them accompanied by a series of sun salutations and all the tension Rebecca had been carrying all morning drifted away—almost. Carina smiled at her as she lifted her eyebrows and signed if only I was younger and pointed at Eric whose bent position gave her a fantastic view of his perfect butt. Rebecca rolled her lips together to suppress a slight laugh.

  Samantha’s studio had floor to ceiling mirrors up lit by fairy lights lining the edges of the floor and twenty-four-foot ceilings. It gave her a terrific view of every other woman in the class staring at Eric like he was fresh meat. He was the only man in the class, and she was half sure that brunette, who’d immediately claimed the mat next to him when they’d arrived, would take a bite any second.

  She couldn’t blame any of their roving eyes. Eric was quite the package.

  He also was smart, having been annoyingly spot-on about her jealousy. She was ordinarily good at identifying her inner feelings. How did she miss this about herself? She wasn’t a teenager, for Pete’s sake. Eric circumnavigated Alexander’s life so calmly and gracefully despite being in love with the man—who seemed oblivious to his feelings—and being forced to share him.

  She stretched into a downward facing dog and spat a strand of hair from her face so she could see Eric—her navigator, her truth-teller. Damnit. The man had perfect form, all that lean muscle stretching and bunching at the same time, and she got to be with him and Alexander. A jolt of gratitude filled her. Couldn’t what was offered be enough? For the last twenty years, an ostracized Bedouin in the desert had a better love life than hers. Men’s gazes might find her, but they didn’t linger long.

  She lowered into a plank, let her hips hit the mat, and then arched her back into cobra. God, her back needed this. Moving into child’s pose next, she inhaled the rubbery lavender scent from the mat under her and made a decision. She would not display ungrateful irritation again. She had friends, and whenever that totally uncalled for ingratitude rose up, she’d come here—to this gorgeous space with a piece of airy flute music softly playing in the background, a wash of amber, and flattering light bathing them. A gorgeous man who’d been a great friend to her was by her side, and he seemed to like being there. She had everything if she’d notice it. I am loved. I am grateful.

  Her heart pinged an odd beat inside her chest as Eric sighed. She turned her head, rested her cheek on the mat. He’d also dropped into child’s pose. Her belly tightened at the sight of the muscle cut in his thighs, his capable arms and hands stretched out. A greedy ferocity of feels for the man rose up—sensual, erotic, devotional, possessive. Okay, she was going to have to work on this possessive thing.

  The instructor, a beautiful dark-haired and exceptionally limber woman by the name of Gabrielle (of course her name was beautiful, too) pushed out a long breath and lowered her arms. She then pressed her palms together and bowed. “Namaste.”

  Rebecca and the rest of the class sat back on their heels, folded their hands at their heart chakra and returned the salutation.

  The brunette next to Eric jumped to her feet as soon as he made a motion to stand.

  “You’re really limber,” she said to him. “I’m Barbie. Come to this class often?” She held out her hand.

  She did not just introduce herself as a doll. A rude laugh burst out of Rebecca’s throat, and caught the woman’s attention for a nanosecond—but only that short because Eric took her outstretched hand.

  He gave her one of his polite smiles, thank God. “Visiting. Rebecca and I both.” He held out his other hand to her, and Rebecca scooted into him, forcing his outstretched arm to encircle her.

  “Oh.”

  She had to give Barbie credit for recovering quickly, casting her eyes down and bobbing her head in resignation.

  Rebecca had to stop this. “It was nice to meet you, Barbie,” she said quickly. She typically was a gracious person but something was off inside her, and she was going to punch it down if it killed her. The other students rolled up yoga mats and chatted as they slowly made their way through the curtain leading to the dressing room.

  “Hey, there’s another class in a few minutes. Want to stay and do another? That one was rather … tame.”

  “Still tense?” He placed his hands on her shoulders and kneaded. Oh, man. He was not making it easy to kick that possessive, jealous thing.

  Carina touched her arm. “I need to go pick up Alexander.”

  Rebecca’s heart jumped, and her fist flew to her sternum at hearing the name. Oh, the baby. She let out a relieved breath and hugged her friend. “Thanks for letting us drop in again. It’s what I needed.”

  Carina cupped her cheek. “Call me. We’ll go out to coffee.”

  She squeezed the woman’s hand. “I’d love that.”

  Carina left the two of them alone in the studio.

  Eric’s eyes slanted down at her “What was that? That sudden jolt of fear when you heard Alexander’s name?”

  She waved her hand at him and turned away. “Nothing. I might have neglected to tell Carrie we were leaving.”

  Eric stopped short. “Tell me you didn’t.”

  “Yeah.” She reached down to roll up the mat she’d borrowed from the studio. “I did.”

  He crossed his arms. “Okay, out with it. What’s going on?”

  She blinked at him. Was she that Captain Obvious to him? The man’s uncanny perception around her both soothed and irritated her. “Let’s not talk about it.”

  “At Accendos, we—”

  “Talk. All the time.” Lord, did she know. “I wanted a little space from Accendos, that’s all. I wanted a moment where I didn’t feel like I was punching a time clock, okay?”

  “And Alexander? What’s doing there?”

  “It’s nothing. Alexander is perfect. And, cagey.” That last word she said under her breath.

  “Guarded,” Eric offered.

  “Stubborn.” She stuck her nose in the vinyl mat trying to capture the lavender scent again so she could have some sense of the centeredness she’d felt just five minutes before. This conversation was a buzz-kill.

  Eric lowered her mat from her face so she’d be forced to look at him. “Dominant. Wonderful.”

  “Like I said, fucking perfect.”

  “Now you’re stretching it.” Alexander’s voice crashed into the room.

  She spun around. Alexander, a whisper of a smile on his face, pushed off the doorjamb. At least he didn’t look angry.

  “Been there long?” she asked.

  “I heard enough.” His eyes were unreadable as he strode over. “I agree with Eric. Guarded. Dominant and wonderful. I’m going with those.”

  “Sorry.”

  “I got a little tied up with work. How about dinner out?” He settled his large palms on her waist. “There’s a new restaurant in town. Italian, your favorite.”

  “Really?” She was over-the-top giddy at the thought of going out, which should have been her first clue all was not as it should be.


  “Yes. We can discuss how neither of you told me you were leaving home on the way over.” His hand gripped her fingers, a stronger squeeze than she’d anticipated, and he pulled her toward the door. “Come on, Eric. You are invited, too.”

  Well, she wasn’t a child, for God’s sake. What could he do? Later, she’d realize what a foolish thought that was.

  34

  “Champagne doesn’t exactly go with my outfit, but okay.” Rebecca took a sip from the flute and stretched out her legs. The limousine had the space for it. Eric, also holding a chilled champagne flute, sat on the bench across from her and Alexander, and looked like a magazine ad for Dolce & Gabbana. She shivered a little.

  “Cold?” Alexander asked.

  “Not at all. Thank you for asking.” Her skin had warmed from the heated seats and Alexander’s hand on her knee drawing lazy circles with his thumb. She’d start her new gratitude practice by focusing on what was right, over what was wrong, like how her skirt, hastily pulled on to replace her skin-tight capri pants, brushed against her bare behind. She wasn’t wearing panties as Alexander’s request—or rather, his demand.

  Not wrong. This is his world. Eric’s eyes kept drifting down her body, an action that had her feeling alternatively unnerved and appreciated all at once.

  Alexander’s grip on her knee tightened. “Get that skirt up higher. I want that bare ass on the seat.”

  “But—” Words died on her tongue as cold blue eyes snapped to her face. His stare was tangible, heavy, as if she could feel the energy he radiated. She attempted to sink into the leather as she eased the fabric up and over her ass. Her skin met warm leather.

  Alexander returned his gaze forward. “You two looked good together today.”

  “Maybe next time you’ll join us?” Her breath sucked in as his hand moved up her thigh.

  He roughly swiped a finger through her slit. “Mmmm.” His lids hooded. “Perhaps. Scoot down, knees wide. Eric is going to get you ready.”

  Her heart rate went from zero to sixty. By the look on Eric’s face, so had his. Ready for what? She sucked in a small breath.

  “Is everything okay?” Rebecca placed her hand over Alexander’s.

  His glanced down so sharply, she pulled her hand back.

  “Neither of you told me you were leaving today. It was disturbing.”

  Oh. So it was a wrong move. Sue her. “I’m sorry we left without … ” Her words shriveled in her throat because now Eric stared daggers at her. Crap, she’d implicated him, as well.

  Alexander’s gaze drifted down the man’s entire body. “Undo those pants. Cock out. I want to see it.”

  Yes, it had been the wrong move. Truth was—because that’s what she was doing now, telling the truth even to herself—she’d done it on purpose. In an unwise petulant moment she’d actually thought serves him right. Looks like she was about to be served.

  His eyes found hers. “Lower yourself on the seat, Rebecca. Knees wider.”

  Rebecca scooched down, her skirt riding even higher on her waist now.

  “Grip the sides of the seat and keep them there unless I tell you otherwise.”

  Eric lowered himself to the carpeted floor and, on his knees, made his way to her spread legs. He made a show of unzipping his pants. Didn’t the man ever get nervous around this? Clearly, not by the way his cock bobbed out, full, thick and ready for action. He made to touch her knees but then glanced up at Alexander. “May I?” Eric’s lips curved to one side.

  Alexander inclined his head in response, his eyes turning to enraged blue flames. “I’ll handle that smirk later.”

  Eric licked his lips, a sliver of trepidation crossing his face. “With pleasure.”

  Only Eric didn’t grab her knees. He scooped his hands under her legs and his fingers dug into the fleshiest part of her ass, and God help her, her hips pitched up in response. Her fingers curled around the seat edge, perspiration pricking the back of her neck. Her legs quivered. Anticipation had always been like that for her. That second before his lips met hers, when fingers moved closer to her pussy but not quite there yet, was almost the best part.

  “Just what I thought.” Alexander let his gaze run over her body. “Shameless.”

  She was shameless around these two men. She had the presence of mind to glance up at Tony, who was driving. If he glanced in the rearview mirror, he’d get a full view of her bared pussy, Eric on his knees with his cock out, and Alexander, face incensed and dictatorial. She almost said something like, can the privacy screen go up? But then, Eric’s lips met her flesh, and Alexander moved to the other bench, away from them.

  And, that was the end of talking because between Eric’s mouth and Alexander’s cold blue eyes bearing down on her, she was nothing but sensation, inside and out. Fear, pleasure, shame—emotions that swirled together into one lethal cocktail she was forced to drink.

  Alexander brushed hair from her face. “How does it feel, Rebecca?” She mewled like a kitten, the sound lighting him up more than any shot of the finest whiskey. He checked the thin chain connected to the nipple clamps. “If you’d stop fidgeting, it wouldn’t pull so hard.”

  He’d attached the chain to the thick leather collar he’d wrapped around Eric’s neck while the two of them faced one another on hands and knees in the center of the limo floor. He’d brought the largest of his fleet on purpose, instructed Tony to drive around D.C. for a while with the privacy screen up. It wasn’t the first time the man had done so—or done so with a scene playing out. Tony once admitted he rather liked driving around the nation’s capital, among all those black SUVs with dignitaries, BMWs with businessmen and government contractors, and pulling up to red lights, the dozens of pedestrians likely wondering who was behind all that tinted glass—and what they were doing.

  Alexander let his fingers slide up and down his cock as he applied a heavy coating of lube. “Too bad I can’t fuck both of you at once. Then again, I’m not sure either of you deserve it.”

  Eric panted and Rebecca could not stop rubbing her thighs together, already slick with her own arousal. Just applying those nipple clamps raised that needy light in her eyes. When he pushed a butt plug into her? Her moans came freely. The dildo, now lodged fully inside her, made her cream herself with no signs of stopping. She could take more than he recalled, but then, what did he know back then? He knew a hell of a lot more now.

  “You holding those in for me, Rebecca?” He continued to let his fingers play up and down his cock.

  “Yes, sir.” She swallowed thickly.

  “Too bad I don’t have a clit clamp.” He really needed to stock this car better now that he had two eager people whose depth of desires were surprising him. It should not have surprised him that they tested their boundaries. Leaving wasn’t the issue. Their silent disappearance was the big problem.

  “And, you, Eric? Holding that plug in tight?” He wiped his hands on a towel and threw it to the floor.

  Eric nodded furiously. His jaw tensed, and his eyes remained trained on Rebecca. Perhaps it was a little self-preservation on his part. Alexander knew the man was desperate for some penetration, and seeing a cock he may or may not be granted might make his erection, now weepy in need, grow even more painful than it appeared. Strapping that monster into that cock harness, a simple one by Alexander’s standards with black straps that wrapped around the man’s full length, had been quite satisfying. He’d rather enjoyed Eric’s guttural sounds during the process.

  Now, which one to fuck first? He’d overheard it was Rebecca’s idea to leave without telling anyone. She wouldn’t be rewarded for that. That’s something he’d forgotten about Rebecca, her wanderlust, her need for spontaneous movement. She had been destined to become a travel writer or dancer. She certainly had the body for it, long, lean curves that he swore he’d not be parted from again—at least not until she told him she didn’t want him anymore. He’d cut off his own balls before he’d be played in the meantime.

  Alexander reached into the b
lack bag he’d brought and freed his favorite flogger. The long, black braided, handle was threaded with gold. The lengthy strands were made of black elk strips—a little frayed now, but still quite serviceable.

  Rebecca gasped a little at seeing the Contessa. It was his first, made by a leatherman he’d met in San Francisco. He couldn’t use it to its fullest use in the limo but that wasn’t the point.

  “Remember this, Rebecca?”

  She nodded. He’d used it on her so many years before, and at the time, it was her favorite impact play.

  “Perhaps another time for you.” He held her gaze.

  He trailed the ends of the flogger on Eric’s backside. The flanged end of the butt plug moved a little as he trembled from the sensation. Perhaps this man most desperately wanted to be flogged. Rebecca’s mouth dropped open as the thin chain pulling her nipples elongated another inch. His mouth watered at seeing those berry nipples, now a deep red, extended and stretched.

  He teased Eric for long minutes, until his back bowed and gooseflesh raised on his skin. The man really did have a great ass, so why was he denying himself? Alexander didn’t deny himself shit.

  He dropped the Contessa to the ground and placed his knees between Eric’s, spread wide as if in invitation. He pulled on the butt plug and Eric groaned. He pushed it back in a little, then out and then back in, fucking him with it. Eric panted hard and fought not to move his neck. Protecting Rebecca, perhaps?

  “Rebecca, eyes on me.”

  Her gaze shot up as Alexander rose up on his knees. He pulled the butt plug out of Eric’s ass and positioned his cock at the man’s entrance.

  “So, since you met me?” he asked.

  “Every second since.” Eric’s voice was hoarse, strained. “I’ll do anything.”

  Alexander grasped handfuls of Eric’s hair and pushed his cock deep into him. The man let out a long groan as he seated himself fully. His eyes locked with Rebecca’s. “Think about that dildo, that butt plug, as I take him.” He didn’t need to add he’d deny her.