by Maya Banks
to the point of melting because he seemed so horrified that he could have caused her further pain.
“And I can’t tell you how much it means to me for you to so sweetly and genuinely tell me that you care. That you want to please me and that it’s important to you. I’ve never had that,” he admitted, looking immediately chagrined that he’d imparted something he considered deeply personal. But it only reinforced what she’d already figured out.
“I want you to know that pleasing you is every bit as important to me as pleasing me is important to you. I want you to be happy. I want you to shine. For me. Only, always, for me.”
She relaxed and kissed him and then drew away, a teasing grin on her face.
“So no punishment for me tonight, then?” she asked lightly.
He returned to the stove and picked up one corner of a steak, holding it up for her inspection.
“Just a minute or two longer,” she advised.
Then he regarded her somberly.
“No, Angel. I think it’s safe to say you’ve already had a little too much excitement for one day. I have never considered myself a patient man, but I’m finding lately that when the reward is great, I’m willing to temper myself. Just know that now that you better understand the parameters and limits I’ve set for you, I won’t be as forgiving in the future, and disobedience will be punished. But I will never take it too far, and I would cut off my right arm before ever intentionally hurting you.”
Her body went all tingly as a mixture of disappointment and curiosity curled in her stomach. She realized in that moment that she didn’t fear Drake hurting her. Physically. He was too disciplined and restrained in all things. The physical part of her fantasized about what his punishment would feel like and if she’d revel in the burn as she had the night he’d spanked her those few times with his hand. The emotional part of her couldn’t bear to ever disappoint Drake again in such a way as to warrant punishment. His approval, she realized, meant a great deal.
“What if I wanted you to use the crop on me?” she asked huskily before she could temper her words. “Not in punishment. Is that something that would please you, Drake? Because I fantasize about it and I think . . .”
“What do you think, Angel?”
“That it would please me very much,” she admitted.
He was taking the steaks from the grill and putting them on a platter and went completely still when her admission hit him. Then he turned the burners off the other skillets and slowly turned, fire brewing in his eyes.
“Maybe if I wasn’t standing.” She plunged ahead before she lost her nerve. “A man of your expertise surely has a thousand ways of flogging a woman without me having to put any weight on my knee.”
“What I think,” he said slowly, “is that first we should eat. And then afterward we can have this discussion. Preferably with you in my bed, tied up and powerless to do anything but accept the pleasure I give you.”
She gulped. She was supposed to eat now? And actually remember what anything tasted like?
He served portions of the food onto two plates and then put them on the table. Then he returned and carefully lifted her down from the island and carried her over to the table, but instead of depositing her into her own chair, he settled down with her in his lap.
She realized that once again, he was going to feed her, but this time, there was no hesitation on her part. She’d enjoyed it the first time he had fed her by his own hand. Intimacy had cloaked them, pulling them further and further into a hazy fog of passion and arousal.
As he began to feed her—and himself—he complimented her on yet another excellent meal.
“But you cooked, not me!” Evangeline protested.
“I hardly call slapping two steaks on a grill and turning them at the minute marker you set while simply turning on the heat under the other skillets to rewarm the food you’d already prepared cooking the meal,” he said dryly. “It was delicious and I appreciate the effort you underwent to make it special for me. That means a lot to me, Angel. I only regret that you hurt yourself in the process.”
“A skinned knee was worth pleasing you,” she whispered. “I do want to please you, Drake. It’s a need within me I can’t even explain to myself. You give me so much. You make me feel beautiful and wanted. I want so much to give you back even a part of what you give so selflessly to me.”
He kissed her, hugging her closer to his body. “You do please me, Angel. Never doubt that. Now, what do you say we continue this conversation in the bedroom where I can properly tend to my angel and give her what she wants and needs from her man.”
“I’d say that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” she whispered against his lips.
Drake carried Evangeline to the bedroom and reverently laid her down on the bed. Then he simply stood over her, his gaze raking up and down her naked body, clear appreciation in his eyes.
For once she felt no shyness or self-consciousness. She felt . . . bold. Like a seductress with a lot more experience than she actually possessed. She didn’t want to be a passive participant in whatever Drake chose for tonight, but at the same time, the idea that he would make all the decisions and have all the control gave her an indescribable thrill.
He frowned when his gaze settled over her knee and he seemed to be thinking.
“How much does it hurt?” he asked. “And don’t sugarcoat it. I’ll do nothing that causes you further pain tonight.”
“It actually feels much better now,” she said truthfully. “I fell asleep on the couch because Silas wouldn’t leave until I was resting on the couch, and I fully intended to get up as soon as he left so I could get a start on dinner, but I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until you called. And since I was immobile for such a long time, my knee was stiff and tender for a while after I started moving around, but it’s loosened up and isn’t nearly as tender.”
His lips tightened. “And if you had called me, I would have ensured you did precisely what Silas told you to do, only you would have been in my arms, me holding you, while you rested.”
The image was so tantalizing that in that moment she wished she had allowed Zander to call Drake.
“I wish I had called you now,” she whispered.
He leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss over her knee and then looked up so their gazes locked.
“In the future, make sure you do.”
“I will,” she promised.
A gleam of a different kind entered his eyes. The one of a predator, full of heat and anticipation that had her breathless and edgy with indescribable need.
“You could make me feel all better now,” she said in a husky voice that was filled with invitation.
“Oh yes, my angel. I intend to do just that. But first, I’m going to crop that sweet ass so that it bears my marks when I fuck you.”
She couldn’t control the shudder or the soft moan that escaped her lips.
His expression became more serious. “But I will not do anything that will cause further pain to your knee.”
“I know, Drake,” she said, an ache in her heart. “I know you’d never hurt me. I want this. I want you. And everything you have to give me. I’ll cherish it always.”
His entire face softened and a warm glow burned in his dark eyes. “So sweet and generous,” he murmured. “What did I ever do to deserve such an angel?”
He walked away from the bed and she felt the loss of his warmth, the touch of his gaze and the hands that had reverently caressed her body. He returned a moment later with rope and the crop and her pulse ratcheted up, her breaths puffing erratically from her lips.
“My angel is excited,” he said, approval flaring in his eyes.
“Oh yes,” she said. “I want it all, Drake. I want . . . you.”
He turned her, mindful of her knee, and drew both of her hands behind her to rest at the small of her back, and then he carefully wound the rope around them, testing to ensure that it wasn’t cutting into her skin. He left her once more
He settled on the edge of the bed and then turned her facedown so that her belly rested over his lap and her legs dangled over the side of his leg. His hands roamed over her back, her shoulders, her ass and then lower down the length of each leg, each touch sending her up in flames.
He administered a light smack to one cheek with his hand and she immediately gasped. Then he petted the area, smoothing away the hurt as the warm burn of pleasure rapidly took over.
Then, as he’d done earlier in the living room, he stroked her back and ass with the tip of the flogger and before she could brace herself, he popped the crop down over the opposite cheek.
Fire singed over her skin, but as with the smacks with his hand, the pain disappeared, quickly replaced with the warm hum of decadent, forbidden pleasure.
“How many do you want, Angel? How many can you take?”
“As many as you want to give me,” she said breathlessly. “I’m yours, Drake. Only yours. I belong to you and am yours to do with as you wish.”
She could tell her response pleased him by the warmth and gentleness of his caress as he rubbed his hand over the area he’d just struck and the sound of approval he made.
“You were made for me,” he said, satisfaction in his voice. “And yes, my darling angel. You do belong to me and you are mine to do with as I please.”
He popped her other cheek, causing her to flinch and then moan as euphoria enveloped her like a cloud. Her knee and the events of the day faded to obscurity, forgotten, as he began to administer her spanking, each lash harder, stronger than the last.
He was careful not to overwhelm her, instead gradually working her up, from lighter to harder and as the pain increased, so did the indescribable pleasure.
“So fucking beautiful,” Drake said gruffly as he rubbed his hand over her throbbing flesh. “Your ass so red with my mark, my stamp of possession. Tell me, Angel. Do you want more? Or do you want me to fuck your sweet ass? Or maybe you’d prefer I ride the pussy that also belongs to me?”
She groaned, nearly insensible, so deep into the thick fog surrounding her.
“I want it all,” she whispered. “All you have, everything you can give me, Drake. Please. I need you so much.”
The words had barely escaped her lips before he straddled her hips, pushing her ass upward, spreading her with his thumbs, and then plunged hard and deep into her pussy. She nearly orgasmed on the spot. She closed her eyes, squeezing hard around him, trying to hold off her release as he began riding her hard. He was almost brutal in his possession, not pausing between thrusts.
He pumped into her over and over, his hips smacking hard against her ass, all the while caressing the burning flesh of her behind that she knew bore the marks of the crop.
“Drake!” she cried desperately. “I’m too close. I’m going to come!”
He withdrew, causing her to moan at the abrupt departure of his enormous erection through her swollen and ultrasensitive flesh. The edge of pain mixed with pleasure was a heady sensation and she closed her eyes, biting into her bottom lip to stave off her release.
Then she jumped when the crop slapped over her ass, fast and furious, peppering over every inch of her aching behind.
Not pausing in the flogging, he murmured in a husky voice, “I’m going to untie your hands so you can touch yourself while I fuck your ass, but do not get up on your knees or put any weight whatsoever on your stitches. Understand?”
“Yes,” she said with an edge of desperation.
The flogging stopped and he hastily untied her wrists and gently rubbed them to rid them of any residual numbness, and then he took her left hand and slipped it between her and the mattress until her fingers slid over her swollen clit.
There was a squirting sound as Drake squeezed lubricant from the tube and then his thumbs parted the cheeks of her ass. Knowing what was soon to come she began stroking herself, and not a moment too soon as he thrust into her with every bit as much force as he’d entered her pussy.
She began shaking, her fingers slipping, glancing over the sensitive nub as Drake drove her higher and higher and ever closer to ultimate release. Just when she thought she would topple over the edge, he withdrew, leaving her precariously close to orgasm, and she groaned in frustration.
He chuckled and the fire ignited over her ass as the crop descended, taking her breath away. Her chest heaved and she inhaled sharply as the pain faded, giving in to euphoria. She closed her eyes as more blows rained down on her buttocks and she entered a hazy world that blurred around her where only bliss existed.
His hands roughly parted her cheeks and he plunged inward again, but she was too languid to continue touching herself, too lethargic to register the need to do so.
“Touch yourself, babe,” Drake commanded. “I want you with me and I’m about to come all over your rosy ass.”
She stroked lazily, her earlier urgency dissipating. As if sensing her state of subspace, he forwent the roughness of his thrusts and instead stroked long and slow, setting a leisurely pace.
Where before her orgasm had demanded its due, this time she climbed slowly up the peak and when Drake’s fingers dug more sharply into her hips and he swelled even larger inside her, she applied more pressure, determined that they go together. Always together.
Her orgasm flooded her, the sweetest, slowest spasm that encompassed her entire body, setting each nerve ending on fire. She tingled from head to toe, delicious chill bumps spreading over her skin, making her hypersensitive to his every touch.
And when he leaned down and pressed his lips to her spine and licked his way up to her nape, the world tilted around her, blurring in the most exquisite bliss she’d ever experienced in her life.
The warmth of his release flooded her, heating her from the inside out, and then he lifted his head and withdrew, and hot jets of semen covered her back, making her shiver all over again.
For a long moment he stood there between her splayed thighs, and then he gently pulled her arm from beneath her and caressed the length from wrist to shoulder. He pressed a warm kiss to her shoulder.
“I’ll be right back to take care of my angel,” he said in a husky voice.
And then a short time later a warm washcloth cleaned the remnants of his release from her back and then her behind. He took care with the flesh tender from the spanking and his rough and then gentle possession of her ass. When he was finished, he slowly rolled her to her back, mindful of her knee, and she gazed up into eyes that glittered with satisfaction and approval.
“My angel has had a long day and needs to rest now, and there’s nothing more I want than to hold you while you sleep.”
Evangeline woke and promptly snuggled further into the covers, the slight ache in her behind bringing back the delicious pleasure Drake had given her the night before. She had no desire to get up and emerge from the cocoon and into reality and so she lay there for a long while, savoring each moment from the night before.
It was like having the most beautiful dream, one she never wanted to awaken from. And then remembering the ritualistic note accompanied by a ridiculously expensive gift that she’d awakened to every single morning since she’d moved in with Drake, she reluctantly turned, hoping . . .
She let out a sigh when her hopes were dashed. A single wrapped box lay next to a note. Most women would think it terribly romantic, but every time Drake left her a gift, it somehow cheapened their relationship and reduced it to a business transaction. As if he were paying her for . . . sex. When the very best gift he could give her would be for her to wake up in his arms.
She cringed and then sat up, curling her legs up against her chest and wrapping her arms around them, hugging herself as she stared at the offending box.
There was little point in putting it off, since Drake would no doubt have her instructions for the day listed in his note.
First she opened the box, dreading what it would reveal. But even she wasn’t prepared for the extravagance of this offering. She dropped it as if it had burned her, and she stared aghast at what had to have cost tens of thousands of dollars.
It was a sapphire and diamond choker that glittered brilliantly in the light. The stones varied in size from very large to the smaller ones that encrusted the edges. It was certainly beautiful, but she couldn’t ever imagine herself wearing it.
Hadn’t Drake learned anything about her at all? That expensive gifts were totally unnecessary? Had she not given him enough reassurance that he was all she wanted and needed? Not gifts every single morning.
With trembling hands, she opened the note and read his now-familiar scrawl.
Good morning, my angel. I hope your knee is feeling much better. I hope you like the choker I chose especially for you. It pales in comparison to your beauty and to your gorgeous blue eyes, but I think it will complement both nicely. Be sure and inform me if you leave the apartment and also remember that you are never to do so without one of my men.
It shouldn’t have bothered her. She thought she’d gotten past this last night when she’d made certain realizations about Drake and his need—and delight—to take care of and protect her. But now, no longer in the fantasy of the moment, it irritated her that he felt the need to curtail her freedom so drastically. For that matter, was it really necessary, the veritable circus act it required for her to so much as leave the building?
“You chose this,” she reminded herself.
She’d been made well aware of Drake’s requirements and she’d willingly signed on, agreeing to those requirements and also knowing the consequences and rewards for her actions.
Oh well, it wasn’t as though it was for forever, right? Only for as long as . . . what? Drake got tired of her? Decided he wanted a new trained monkey?
The thought made her unhappy even as she chastised herself for wanting it both ways. To have her cake and eat it too. She had to stop overthinking matters. Live for the moment for once in her life. Don’t think about tomorrow until it arrives. For one glorious span of time in her life, she was going to indulge in what she wanted and put her needs before others, and she refused to spend the entirety of her relationship with Drake feeling guilt for, as he’d stated in the beginning, enjoying the ride. When in her life had she ever given in to impulse? Thrown caution to the wind and plunged recklessly into anything? Oh, that was easy. Never!
There were things she’d like to do. Visit her girlfriends. Or simply enjoy a day out. But quite frankly what she needed most was a break from all the testosterone that was always in abundance wherever Drake was—or rather couldn’t be at the moment. If she had to spend another day with one of Drake’s men hovering over her, she might well scream.
Suddenly a day alone and not leaving Drake’s apartment held greater appeal than it had before.
She got up and took her time showering, and then she remembered to put the ointment on her knee. It was too late for breakfast, so she was running through her lunch options in her mind.
She was tempted to order takeout, even though she had plenty of stuff to whip up something herself in no time. Takeout had always been a luxury for her, one seldom indulged in and usually only for special occasions. The more she thought about it, the more she craved some really good Chinese or Thai takeout. And why not? She had plenty of cash on her. Drake’s minions weren’t around to whip out a credit card.
But then should she be saving her money? She couldn’t take anything for granted, and if Drake did suddenly get tired of her and dump her, she would need every penny she had to support herself until she found a job and a place to live. Because she knew one thing already. If Drake ended their relationship, there was no way she’d go back to her old apartment knowing that Drake had paid the rent for two years.
Shaking off the unpleasant direction in which her thoughts had taken her, she went into the kitchen and then took out her phone to look up nearby places that would deliver to Drake’s apartment.
After a few frustrating minutes in which she realized just how unfamiliar she was with this part of the city, she nearly gave up on the idea of ordering takeout. But then an idea hit her. Surely the doorman or the concierge would be able to give her some guidance.
Happy that she wouldn’t have to give up on her fantasy lunch now that it had taken root and she could think of nothing else, she finished dressing and then rode the elevator down to the lobby.
When she got off, she looked uneasily around, unsure of where she’d find the concierge. It wasn’t as though the other times that she’d been rushed through the lobby she’d made it a point to check out her surroundings.
She was saved when the doorman approached her, a welcoming smile on his face.
“Miss Hawthorn, is there anything I can do for you?”
“Yes,” she said gratefully. “This is going to sound stupid.”
She flushed but the doorman merely smiled and gave her a kind look.
“I assure you that nothing you ask will be stupid. Now, how can I be of service?”
“Well, um, can you tell me where to find the concierge? You see, I wanted to order Chinese or maybe even Thai takeout, but I’m not very familiar with this part of the city and I have no idea who delivers here and who doesn’t. Do you think the concierge would be able to help me with that?”
The doorman looked horrified. “Of course! But, Miss Hawthorn, in the future you needn’t bother calling out yourself. I can give you several menus as well as the delivery service Mr. Donovan most frequently uses. With or without a menu, -->