Best Seller

by Delta James

  He called down to the front desk and asked that ice be brought to his room. He waited by the door, gun readily available in his pocket, answering just as there was a knock.

  “Good evening, Mr. Samuels. Would you like me to set this up?” the butler asked.

  “No, thank you, Simmons. I can take it from here. Would you please cancel the alarm or breakfast Ms. Matthews had arranged for tomorrow? I’m afraid she overindulged, and I’d like to let her sleep in. Once she’s awake, we’ll see how she’s feeling and take it from there.”

  “Very good, Sir.”

  He closed the door, locked it, then turned back to Sage. She was a vision lying sprawled on her back, her auburn hair splayed out all around her. He grinned. He really was a rotten bastard. She’d almost died, and all he could think about was getting her healed and fucking her silly. He looked at the soft curls nestling at the apex of her thighs. He’d take care of that in the next day or two. He wanted her bare and available for his use whenever he wanted her.

  He wrapped the wet washcloth around several ice cubes and pressed it against her neck. She started to fuss but quieted when he soothed her. Once she was settled and sleeping, he used her mobile and called Holmes.

  “You’re through… for good?” the DSI answered.

  “What made you think it was me?” he asked.

  “Had to be you. That’s Sage’s mobile number, and she doesn’t have mine.” He chuckled. “If you’re calling me, either you’re losing your touch, or you’ve worn the poor girl out.”

  “Neither. You fucked up, Holmes. Someone tried to kill her.”

  “What?” The DSI’s tone changed from bantering to serious and concerned in an instant.

  “I was drawn to a place under a bridge. There was a man with a garrote around her neck. I put two bullets in him, then dumped the body in the Thames.”

  “Are the two of you all right? Does she need medical assistance?”

  “Her throat is bruised, but nothing I can’t handle. The oddest thing… they moved her to the room she used as the basis for my lodgings here at the Savoy. I called down to the Butler Service here in the hotel and asked for ice. When the guy came to the door, he greeted me by name. Interesting thing is, I knew his as well. Do me a favor and call Felix in the morning. Let him know what’s happened, and that Sage and I are not to be disturbed.”

  “Are you feeling any pull to go back behind the veil?”

  “None at all. In fact, the longer I’m here, the stronger I feel in general. Don’t worry about it, Holmes. We’ll figure it out… Is it odd to be walking around?

  “At first, but the feeling fades, and being here feels normal as though I’ve always been here. At first, I worried about somehow being sucked back without warning… especially the first time I was intimate with a woman, but even that concern has lessened.”

  “Good to know. It’ll be good to see you and Felix. What about the security guy?”

  “Gabe? He’s a good man... very concerned about your girl. He knew there wasn’t enough to get me officially involved but also knew this was beyond his ability to figure it out and keep her safe, so he called me in unofficially. Just like everyone else, he seems to accept we’ve always been here. It’s the oddest feeling, not just that they know you… you know them as well and not just their names. The first time I walked into the Yard, it felt as though I’d always been there. People greeted me by name, and I knew all of theirs as well. You take care of your girl. I’ll figure out how to retrieve the body, then we’ll try to figure this thing out.”

  He ended the mobile call and smiled as he watched her sleeping. She’d rolled over on her side and was curled with a pillow snug against her body. She wasn’t going to need that in the future, either.

  Now, what to do with her? He’d wanted her for so long and didn’t intend to waste any time establishing their relationship. She needed to learn from the get-go just which one of them was in charge—and it wasn’t her. He grinned. He knew just the thing to bring that point home. He looked in the bedside drawer and his smile grew broader. Next to the little pouch, where she kept her sex toys, was the kit containing his. He was reasonably sure what it would contain and also that she had never had one used on her.

  He opened the kit and pulled out his prize, a simple silver anal plug. Shiny and sleek, it shouldn’t be too large for her to handle. He stroked the crevice of her ass, rimming her dark rosette. Asleep, it was relaxed and gave to the light pressure of his finger. He was quite certain he would be the only man to ever have her ass. She’d been squeamish about incorporating anal sex into her books, but had finally relented when her editor insisted.

  Checking his kit, he decided—although she had been naughty, recklessly going off with some assassin and letting him pull her leggings and panties down—it didn’t rise to the level of using peppermint lube on the plug for her first time. He spread the regular lube over it, looking at her tight little hole. His cock hardened at the thought of that petite ring of muscle all but strangling his cock as he pressed into her in the future.

  Teasing the plug against the tight ring of muscle, he inserted the tip and watched her dark rosette fight to keep him out, but it wouldn’t win… he would—he would win everything. He twisted the handle, wedging the tip in and gently pushing, drawing it back before pushing it back in. He repeated the action over and over until finally it was seated. There, that ought to give her something to think about.

  The inky darkness which had shrouded her began to recede. Her eyes fluttered open as consciousness returned, and she woke. At first, Sage was frightened. Someone had tried to kill her—not someone, William Shackelford. Why? The fear retreated as she realized she was safe in her bed at the Savoy. What had happened? How had she gotten here? She reached for her throat.

  “There shouldn’t be any scarring, if that’s what worries you,” a cultured British voice said—deep, decidedly male, seductive, and posh. “Although that should be the least of your concerns. How are you feeling? Are you all right?”

  Sage glanced around her surroundings, her eyes fixing on the tall, muscular man who stood looking at her like some dark guardian angel. He was gorgeous. Even standing still, there was an energy about him that made him look like a large predatory beast, ready to strike at any minute. He wasn’t just tall, but brawny with not an ounce of fat—all lean muscle and sinew. The question about what it might feel like to be trapped beneath him flitted across her mind. Sage could feel desire begin to pool between her legs.

  Who was he?

  She was back in her hotel room at the Savoy, that much was apparent. Whoever the gorgeous hunk was, he looked perfectly at ease. It was still dark out. What was he doing in her room?

  “Wh-Who are you? Wh-What are you doing in my room?”

  “That’s not how this works, little girl,” he rumbled. She noticed his lips had a decidedly sensual shape. “I’m the one who did the rescuing, the one who asks the questions. I asked how you were feeling and if you were all right.”

  As Sage became more awake, her current circumstances were revealed in greater detail. She was in her room at the Savoy with a man she didn’t know but who felt oddly familiar. Someone… William had tried to kill her after she had allowed him to feel her up and strip her leggings and panties down around her knees. The thought of having been found like that caused her to blush, which led her to her next revelation.

  She was naked, and he seemed well aware that she was. The dampness she could feel gathering at the entrance to her core was accompanied by her nipples tightening and becoming uncomfortably stiff, and it felt like there was something stuck up her bum. She started to reach around to feel for the offending object.

  “Ah, ah, little girl, leave that alone. You’ve been very naughty, and naughty little girls sometimes have reminders to behave put up their bottom hole.”

  “What the fuck? Who do you think you are?” Sage snapped, outraged.

  “That’s enough, Sage. I must say, for such an intelligent and ar
ticulate author, you do use the most vulgar language. That really needs to end.”

  Sage rolled to the other side of the bed and onto her hip, facing away from him, and again stretched her hand back around to remove the butt plug. The more awake she became, the more uncomfortable it was. He moved silently, but the crack that resounded as his hand connected with her bare bottom was as clearly audible as her yowled response.

  “I told you to leave that alone. The plug stays where it is until I decide to remove it. Given your writing, I was a bit surprised you were so tight back there. I would have thought you might have at least tried it. You have an excellent imagination, and I always found your descriptions of the sensations, as well as the emotions associated with it, spot on. Or rather what I imagine a woman feels when she gets her bottom hole plugged. It might be a bit uncomfortable, but it will get less so with time and repeated use. We’ll need to work on that. At some point, I’m going to fuck your ass… and I’ll want you to enjoy it.”

  Sage rolled off the bed, bringing the sheet with her, and faced him. The plug provided pressure to her bottom and felt odd but disturbingly pleasurable.

  “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are...” she said, her breathing a bit thready and uneven.

  “That is enough, Sage. I had thought you might offer some explanation for your behavior last night. I understand wanting to go out and experience the real London, but did you seriously consider the repercussions of getting drunk in an international city and wandering off with some bloke you just met? Or what a field day the press would have had if someone had photographed you as some guy fucked you up against a wall? The fact that your would-be suitor was actually an assassin and would have left you stripped half-naked to be found tomorrow morning? That was just stupid, and you are far from stupid.”

  Sage started to take a step toward the bathroom door, where hopefully, there’d be a phone. She could lock herself in and call for help. The only problem was when she moved, the plug sent a jolt of pure sexual need coursing through her system… staggering her.

  The stranger stepped between Sage and the door to the bath, almost as though he knew what she was thinking… and feeling. He flicked on the lamp beside him, its light revealing he was dressed all in black—boots, jeans, belt, and a t-shirt that seemed molded to his body. The determined look in his eye told her she had no chance of getting by him. She refused to be cowed—aroused maybe, but not intimidated. Her spine straightened, but her knees threatened to buckle, and the pulsing in her nether region caused her to retreat.

  He came around the end of the bed and made his way toward her, moving the same way a feral cat plays with a mouse, but he was far more predatory than any domesticated cat. There was a powerful grace that exuded “alpha male” with every step he took.

  “Where is it, precisely, you think you are going, Pet?” he purred with the smallest indication of seductiveness.

  “I’m the aggrieved party in this…”

  “The aggrieved party? Hardly,” he snorted. “What you are is a naughty little girl who needs to get her bottom spanked, well and often. You need to understand, from this point forward, you are not going to engage in foolish, dangerous behavior… at least, not without serious consequences.”

  “Excuse me?” she drawled.

  The large, panther-like male took a deep breath and sighed. “Don’t play coy with me, Sage. It’s high time you were given a set of rules by someone who will hold you accountable.”

  “Rules?” she squeaked. Why wouldn’t he stop stalking her? Why did he have to get so close? Couldn’t he see she was having trouble breathing? And how had she become comfortable with something stuck up her ass, so all she felt when it moved was pure pleasure and surging arousal?

  “Yes, rules. You ought to be grateful I think it’s only fair you know what those rules are before I punish you when you break them.” He chuckled, a deep, melodious sound. “Given your rebellious nature, I’m sure you will break them on a fairly routine basis. While Daddy isn’t going to like it when his little girl breaks the rules, the idea of spanking that pretty bottom of yours is quite arousing.”

  “D-Daddy?”

  Rules? Daddy? Sage felt her sheath quiver in exaggerated anticipation, her nipples beaded to the point of pain, and her clit pulsed… hard. Her entire body shuddered as a precursor of orgasm. Was he crazy? Was she dead? Was this her version of heaven or hell?

  “I prefer you refer to me as Sir or Daddy, especially when you are being chastised. I’m not very happy with your behavior earlier this evening. For one, as I said, it was stupid. Two, Daddy doesn’t share his little girl… unless she’s been very naughty, and Daddy feels she needs a more intensive lesson in submission.”

  This wasn’t making any kind of sense. She didn’t write Daddy Dom books. Who the hell was this guy?

  “What kind of whack job are you?” she snarled, her anger pushing past her arousal, but fueling it nonetheless.

  “The first rule—you will speak to me respectfully and truthfully. Any deviation from compliance will result in a soaped mouth and a spanked bottom. Rule two—when we are alone, you will refer to me as Sir or Daddy. Rule three—you will not put yourself in danger. Rule four—you will mind Daddy at all times. Let me stress the importance of rules three and four. Penalties for breaking either of them will not be pleasant. I think the rules are pretty simple and straight forward. Do you need me to write them down?”

  “No, I don’t need you to write them down,” she said quietly before reminding herself she didn’t answer to this man, and indignation reared its ugly head. “I don’t know who you think you are or why you think I’m going to do what you say, but I can assure you that you are wrong. Now get out, or I’m calling security.”

  “And what is it you think Gabriel Waverly would do? I assure you he is not a man given to interfering between a man and his woman. Make no mistake… you are mine. As to who do I think I am? I think I am who you created me to be.”

  “What the fuck do you mean by that?”

  He shook his head. “And that, little girl, is a bridge too far,” he said, snatching the sheet away.

  He was on her in the blink of an eye. The stranger fisted her hair and marched her into the large bath off the bedroom. She clawed at his hand but couldn’t shake it loose. Before she could process what he was about, he turned on the faucet, adjusted the temperature, and soaped up his hand. Pressing her against the vanity, he exposed her dark passage with the butt plug lodged inside. The stranger released her hair, grasped the handle of the plug and pulled it free. Arousal coursed through her system, making her gasp. Taking advantage of her opened mouth, he kept her jaws from closing, quickly and efficiently soaping the inside of her mouth, covering her cheeks, tongue, and teeth. When he was finished, he handed her a small glass of water, barely enough to rinse her mouth.

  Before turning off the tap, he washed the butt plug and his hands, then dragged her back out into the sitting room. Sitting down on the sofa, the outline of a large, bulging, throbbing cock was clearly shown. She hardly had time to notice it before finding herself face down over his knee, feeling it pulse beneath her belly.

  His hand descended in the first of many hard strikes to her bottom. Sage wailed in pain and outrage, but the stranger didn’t seem to notice, merely beginning a strong, steady tempo of harsh blows with his open palm. She tried to wriggle her way off his lap, but he held her fast and rained down swats that covered her backside in a wave of ever-increasing misery.

  Although Sage had become known for a hero who routinely spanked the women he was intimate with, she had personally never experienced a spanking. Oh sure, she went to clubs and found being bound to a St. Andrews Cross and flogged relieved her stress and increased her libido, but she had always thought being spanked, especially over a man’s knee, too intimate, and she was right. This was arousing, intoxicating, insane, and painful. She had never felt the heat and agony spread across her ass. Most interesting was the sense of peace and content
ment that came with it, as if she was being enveloped in a soft, fuzzy blanket—but that was between strikes. Every time his hand landed on her bottom, all she felt was pain.

  “Shit, you bastard, that hurts,” she wailed.

  “So, my pet needs her mouth washed out with soap again so soon? I suppose I was too generous letting you rinse. I won’t make that mistake again,” he calmly declared, still tattooing his displeasure all over her buttocks.

  Sage gritted her teeth, then bit her lip—anything to keep him from knowing he was getting the better of her. She couldn’t believe the level of torment involved in getting spanked. The heroines in her books always stoically endured, at least until the hero used his belt or a strap. Her backside wasn’t the only thing that hurt. Her nipples had become so stiff, they begged for his attention, preferably not gentle. Her pussy literally ached to feel him inside her, thrusting in and out, stretching her inner walls, and riding her until she couldn’t walk. It felt like electricity played all across her skin, seeping into her pores to race through her entire system.

  The spanking stopped, but before she could process what happened, the stranger pried apart her legs and used two fingers to penetrate her, roughly fingering her until she came, screaming and writhing on his lap.

  Oh my God, please tell me I didn’t just climax from this guy’s treatment of me! Wishing was no use—she sure as hell had. She collapsed against him.

  Sage allowed the stranger to help her stand, then steady her when her legs threatened to give way. She wished to God she wasn’t stripped naked—with beaded nipples, flushed skin, and a pussy still reverberating from the power of her orgasm. He acted as if he hadn’t just beat her ass, then caused her to climax from his rough fingering.

  “Now, little girl, go put your nose in the corner by the fireplace,” he said calmly.

  “I won’t,” she managed to say.