by Maya Banks
she reached up and twined her arms around his neck, having to stand on tiptoe to elevate her diminutive height.
She looked adorably shy and color rose in her cheeks. “I don’t want to disappoint you, Drake. Ever. And you know I have no experience except with you.”
He was inordinately pleased with her assertion that he was her only experience and that no reference at all was made to her shithead ex. He wasn’t so pleased with her statement of not wanting to disappoint him, but he didn’t interrupt her, because she was obviously struggling with what she wanted to say.
“What I would like is for you to teach me how to please you. Only you. You said the other night was for you, but in reality, it was all about me. Tonight . . .” She sucked in another breath. “Tonight, I want it to truly be all about you. I want you to have absolute control and show me how to pleasure you in any way you want. I want you to make me do whatever it is you want me to do to you—for you. And I don’t want you to hold back for fear of hurting or scaring me.”
She paused for a moment as she stared into his eyes as if gauging his reaction.
“I want you. Just you. Nothing else. Just you, your control, your dominance, the man you are, the man I know you to be. I’m not trying to change the rules, I swear. I don’t want control tonight. I only want for you to be selfish for once and to take what you need from me, however you want it, need it, like it. I just wish I knew enough not to have to ask you how to give you all that I want to give you.”
She finished in a whisper, a thread of regret in her voice.
He was shaken. He, a man who was unshakable. But her sincere plea cut to the very core and uncovered parts of his heart that had long ago been shut off, never to be opened or to bleed again. For anyone.
He framed her beautiful face in his hands, cradling it gently as he stared down into her eyes, losing all sense of himself.
“I’m glad you don’t have the experience to know all there is to know about pleasing me,” he said in a savage tone. “There is nothing more beautiful than a woman asking her man to guide her and teach her how to pleasure him. You make me feel like I’m the only man who’s ever even entered your world, Angel. You can’t imagine how that feels.”
She smiled, her eyes glowing warmly. “Then you’ll do it? You’ll take me the way you want to take me tonight? Rough, hard, long, sweet. It doesn’t matter, Drake. Because pleasing you, bringing you pleasure, gives me the same and so much more. So very much more.”
Dear God, what she was doing to him in such a short time. He was in way over his fucking head and he damn well knew it. He was helpless to keep his defenses rigid and erect around her, and God help him but he didn’t want to.
For the first time in his life, he wanted to let someone in. He just prayed that when that happened, and she saw the monster he truly was, that he wouldn’t lose the precious gift staring at him as though he were her entire world.
He looked at her sweet smile, going over every single word—gift—she’d given him. Did she know how dark his desires ran? Did she fully understand the things that aroused him sexually? Somehow, he didn’t think so. In her innocence, how could she?
He had no doubt that she was utterly sincere and here, in this moment, she would give him anything he wanted. Would do for him anything he wanted. But would she understand, or would she see his dark fantasies as a betrayal of his promise to protect her and always take care of her?
“Be very sure of what you are offering me, Angel,” he said, his tone low and serious.
“I’m sure,” she said with no hesitation.
“Then I want you to remember something, the most important thing of all, when I take what I want from you tonight. You gave me your trust, and you will need to not only remember that, but to believe in that trust—and in me.”
She didn’t look or appear frightened. There was a spark of curiosity and a delicate shiver stole over her body, as though she were imagining what he was thinking. What he wanted—would demand of her tonight.
He pulled her in closer to his body. Until nothing separated them and his arms were wrapped around her satiny, naked skin. He allowed his hands to roam down her back, cupping her buttocks and then squeezing.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, allowing her one last out. “Enough not to question anything I ask of you tonight? To follow and heed my instructions regardless of what they may be?”
She leaned her head back, determination and resolve firm in those beautiful eyes. She looped her arms loosely around his neck, but never once did she break free of his gaze.
“My gift to you is me,” she said in a sweet, soul-stirring voice that was a caress all in its own. “I am yours, Drake. I know you’ll never hurt me. I can’t promise not to ever be afraid at any point tonight, but you need to know that my fear is not of you. Never of you. If I fear anything at all, it will be the unknown. But most of all, my greatest fear will be of letting you down.”
“Then go and prepare for me,” he said in a husky voice. “Take a long bath and soak for a while. There is no hurry, as it will take me a little time to make the proper arrangements for a night my angel has promised is all mine. My fantasy. My pleasure. And know, Evangeline, that you will be repaid in full measure for the gift you are offering me tonight. I too plan to come up with very creative ways of expressing my gratitude.”
He trailed a finger down her silken cheek as their gazes remained locked.
“When you are finished bathing, dry yourself and your hair and then go lie down on the bed. Don’t pull the covers and sheets back. I want you to lie in the middle, your hair spread across the pillows, thighs parted, hands above your head with your fingers wrapped around the slats of the headboard.”
She smiled, then sighed and shook her head ruefully. “And yet again, a night that is supposed to be solely about you sounds an awful lot like I’m the one being a pampered, spoiled princess.”
He regarded her solemnly. “Have no doubt, Angel. You are my pampered princess. But tonight, I intend only to watch, and this is very much for me. Just remember your promise to trust me and know that I will never allow you to come to harm, and my night will be fucking perfect.”
As Evangeline languidly soaked in the tub, she pondered the oddity of Drake’s last words to her before he’d ushered her into the bedroom and then disappeared, leaving her to heed his instructions.
They seemed in direct contradiction and try as she might, she couldn’t come up with a scenario in which, as he’d said, tonight he’d only watch but had followed it with a solemn vow that he would never allow her to come to harm.
The two statements seemed incongruous. Granted, she didn’t have much experience with sex, much less kinky, dominant sex or fetishes. She wasn’t even sure what they were called or even the differences between a kink and a fetish or if there even was one.
Well, she wasn’t going to ruin what promised to be an exciting night by overanalyzing Drake’s cryptic words. She was more focused on his reaction to her impassioned statement about wanting to please him, wanting him to teach her to please him and that she wanted to give back at least a small part of all he’d given to her.
That had pleased him immensely. There was no mistaking the wonderment and surprise and yes, even delight over her sincerity. And he’d admitted what she’d already reasoned out on her own, that he had never had anyone who cared for him, who took care of him and placed his needs above their own. Had anyone ever loved him? Or at least cared deeply for him? Or were the majority of the people in his life manipulative users out to milk him for every cent they could extort?
And what of his family? He’d never spoken of them and he seemed bemused by her close relationship with her parents. In fact, she strongly suspected that he’d felt anger toward them and the fact that she’d given up so much to support them until he’d witnessed firsthand their love and concern for her. He’d even spoken to them himself and after that, she’d never seen that fleeting hint of suppressed anger when she spoke of her f
“Oh, Drake,” she whispered, her heart aching. “How lonely must it have been to live in a world where no one cared about you? How awful must it be for your worth to be measured by money and social status? Has anyone ever seen the real Drake Donovan? Has no one ever loved the real Drake Donovan?”
If it was the last thing she did, she was going to prove to him that his money didn’t mean a damn to her. For that matter, she wished he had none at all because then he would never harbor any doubt as to her reasons for being with him. She would want to be with him, want desperately to submit to him and please him even if he didn’t have one cent to his name.
But would he ever truly believe that? Or would some small part of him, deep down, buried under years of cynicism, always be there whispering insidiously in the back of his mind telling him she was no different from all the others?
She idly looked over at the clock on the counter by the sink and realized a full thirty minutes had passed while she contemplated the puzzle that was Drake Donovan. He’d told her to take her time, but he hadn’t been specific. She had been specific in that this night belonged to him, and the last thing she wanted was to keep him waiting and she still had to dry her hair and position herself accordingly on the bed.
Pushing away all the senseless questions and speculation that had occupied her time in the tub, she rose, water rushing down her body. She stepped out and first wrapped a towel around her head and then took another to dry her body.
After swabbing as much moisture from her hair as she could with the towel, she sat on the vanity stool and began combing out the long tresses. She sectioned off pieces of her hair and pulled a brush down the length, following it with a blow-dryer.
She wanted to look beautiful, and her hair, when freshly washed, blow-dried and brushed out, was one of her best features. She brushed until it shone and was extremely soft, giving her a windblown look that framed her face and tumbled down her back in layers.
After giving herself one last pat-down with the towel to ensure her entire body was no longer damp, she walked back into the bedroom, relieved that Drake hadn’t made his appearance yet.
She crawled on top of the mattress and with a sigh settled in the middle, her head nestled into the mound of pillows. Then she remembered his other directives.
She parted her thighs so that just a hint of the lips of her vagina were visible and then she reached upward to grasp the slats of the headboard.
Even though she was in no way bound, the feeling of being subdued, captive, a prisoner awaiting what would happen next sent delicious waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Her nipples puckered into tight, hard knots and she could feel the dampness between her legs as her clit pulsed and ached, begging for attention.
I intend only to watch.
Again his words floated through her memory, sending a fresh wave of curiosity and confusion through her veins. If he hadn’t instructed her to put her hands above her head and hold on to the headboard, she would have assumed he wanted to watch as she masturbated.
And while the first time he’d instructed her to touch herself when they were going to have anal sex had made her self-conscious, she was beyond that now and was only eager to do his bidding if it pleased him to watch her pleasure herself.
She languidly turned her head when the bedroom door opened and smiled when Drake appeared in the doorway. But her smile froze when she saw he wasn’t alone. Behind him walked in an extremely handsome, well-dressed man she judged to be around Drake’s age.
Panic scuttled up her spine and some of what she felt must have shown on her face because Drake motioned for the man to stay back as Drake approached the bed. It was then she saw the rope Drake carried.
He sat on the edge of the bed and slid one hand leisurely down her body, his smile warm and reassuring, but his eyes glittered with need.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
And at those two words and the tenderness in his expression, her trepidation dissolved in an instant.
“Oh, I trust you,” she whispered, injecting all the warmth and emotion she felt into her smile.
He took one of her hands and looped the rope around her wrist, securely binding it to the slat she’d held moments earlier. Then he did the same with the other until both hands were tied, rendering her helpless to shield her nudity from the stranger standing a short distance away.
Then Drake leaned over and pressed his lips to her forehead.
“I will never hurt you, Angel, nor would I ever allow another to hurt you. My wish for tonight is to watch another man pleasure you. He is well aware of my boundaries and what I will and won’t allow.”
She licked her lips nervously and surprisingly, her initial fear dissipated, replaced by a warm hum of arousal. It was like tasting forbidden fruit. It felt decadently naughty for another man to pleasure her—have sex with her—at Drake’s command. And then another thought took hold and guilt surged rawly through her veins.
Her worried gaze found Drake’s and she stared helplessly at him, so many questions swirling in her mind. Of all the scenarios she’d imagined, this hadn’t been one of them. Drake was so forbiddingly possessive. She couldn’t wrap her mind around him being willing to share his . . . possession . . . with another man.
Drake’s gaze softened as he stroked and caressed her breasts, cupping and palming them, thumbing her nipples to hardened peaks.
“You do not betray me, my darling angel. I won’t have you thinking it, nor will I allow you to refuse yourself to feel pleasure because I am not the one providing it.”
Her brow furrowed in genuine puzzlement, but evidently Drake considered the matter concluded. He stood and turned, speaking in a formal tone to the man behind him.
“Her name is Evangeline and she is mine. She is a priceless treasure and I expect you to treat her as such. You will initiate her with gentleness and care until she is comfortable with your presence and touch. Then and only then can you exert your will—my will—as I’ve outlined to you.”
Then he turned back to Evangeline. “Angel, this is Manuel, a man I consider a friend and someone I trust. He will pleasure you, and I expect you to heed his commands, as they are mine. Tonight, I watch as another man pleasures and fucks what is mine.”
She shivered at the coarse, descriptive language Drake used, but then he’d likely purposely used it because he well knew her reaction when he had used it before.
And then Drake stepped away and walked to the chair diagonal to the bed where he would be afforded a prime view of her having sex with another man.
She was confused, curious, conflicted and wildly excited all at the same time. Her breaths came in rapid, short bursts and she could feel the heat of her flushed skin.
Manuel walked to the bed as Drake had done and stood staring down at her, raw arousal glittering brightly in his brilliant blue eyes.
“I am honored,” he said huskily. “Never before have I seen such a beautiful sight than an angel spread out before me, bound to the bed, her hair scattered across the pillows like silk.”
Oh, this man was good. Sheer seduction with only words.
“Touch her,” Drake said. “Caress every inch of her beautiful skin.”
Manuel slid one knee onto the bed and placed his palm over her belly, and she instantly jumped as a thousand tiny chill bumps erupted over her body.
“I won’t hurt you,” Manuel said softly.
“I know,” she said just as softly. “Drake would never let you.”
Manuel smiled. “Drake is a lucky bastard. Your trust in him is a gift most men can only dream of.”
Her gaze skittered to Drake to see approval glistening in his eyes. He was leaned back in the chair, looking relaxed and at ease. Any worries she had about angering him over her sexual response to the man he had chosen evaporated. He looked . . . pleased. As though he had great pride in her. And if this pleased him, if this was what he wanted, then she would give it to him unreservedly.
As if sensing her thoughts, his gaze burned into hers, approval still bright in his eyes.
“Your pleasure pleases me, Angel. Never forget that. You wanted to give me whatever I wanted tonight, and what I want most is to watch while another man temporarily owns you. Whenever you are comfortable enough with Manuel, then he will take over and I will become a passive observer. But never think for a moment that this isn’t something I will enjoy greatly. There is something decidedly erotic about seeing my woman tied to my bed, fucked and dominated by another man.”
She moaned as Manuel’s hands traveled the same path as Drake’s had just moments before over her breasts. His touch was different. Were she blindfolded, she’d know the difference all the same.
“You may kiss her, lick her, use your mouth on her anywhere except her lips,” Drake said to Manuel. “Her mouth is mine and mine alone and that sweetness will never be tasted by any man but me.”
“I’ll console myself by tasting that sweet pussy,” Manuel said. “I assure you, that will be no hardship whatsoever. And those nipples,” he murmured even as his head descended toward her breasts.
Her gaze found Drake’s once more as she arched upward when Manuel’s mouth closed around one turgid point and she sighed as he suckled gently, tonguing the tip and then administering a light nip.
To her keen disappointment, Manuel lifted his head and rose from the bed. But then she realized he was undressing and her pulse sped up. She looked at Drake instead of Manuel as he deftly removed the last of his clothing.
“Look at him, Angel,” Drake commanded. “Look at the man who’s going to fuck you long and hard.”
She swallowed and shifted her gaze, her eyes widening at the beautiful male physique standing next to the bed. His hand curled around his burgeoning erection and he pulled back and forth, swelling and stiffening to complete hardness, until it strained upward toward his navel.
“Lift her bound hands over her head and turn her so she lies crossways on the bed, her legs over the side so you can taste—and fuck—her pussy. She likes it hard and rough, Manuel. But I expect you to take care and work her up to the point where she can accept you and is ready to fully take you.”
Unfamiliar but not unpleasant hands did as Drake instructed, and Manuel positioned and then stood between her spread legs, his eyes gleaming appreciatively as he stared down at her.
He lowered himself to his knees and parted the lips of her pussy and began to softly nuzzle over the sensitive flesh. Lust surged and her hips arched. Her arms lifted, though her hands were bound, and suddenly she felt very familiar hands close around her wrists and yank them roughly back down to the mattress, holding them firmly in place.
The dual sensation of one man between her legs and Drake holding her down from the top so she couldn’t move made her squirm restlessly, a moan escaping her lips. Drake’s head lowered and he kissed her lips upside down.
“Let him pleasure you, Angel. While I watch him take what is mine.”
Manuel licked, sucked and tormented her, taking his time devouring her pussy. The pleasure was overwhelming but her focus wasn’t on Manuel. She didn’t glance down at his dark head between her legs. She locked her gaze with Drake and curled her fingers around his hands, watching his reaction to this man—this stranger to her—only interested in pleasing Drake.
Rough hands yanked her thighs apart and Manuel’s hand cupped her chin, pulling downward, his eyes glittering.
“Look at me, Evangeline.”
He hadn’t finished his command before he thrust hard into her. She gripped Drake’s hands even harder and he freed one to stroke through her hair as he silently offered her his support.
Manuel rose over her, his body covering her, her breasts flattened against his chest as his hips undulated and rolled over hers, penetrating her deeply. But she found her gaze flitting back to Drake time and time again, absorbing the warmth and arousal in his dark eyes.
“So fucking beautiful,” Manuel growled as he pounded harder into her. “Tell me, Evangeline. Just how rough do you like it?”
Even as he spoke, he thrust his hand into her hair and yanked her head upward so she was forced to look at him. He lowered his head, and for a moment she thought he would disobey Drake’s directive that he was not to kiss her mouth. But he licked and nipped at her neck, her ear, and slid his lips down the curve of her neck, whispering words of praise in her ears.
“I can take anything for Drake,” Evangeline said.
“I wonder if he knows how very lucky he is,” Manuel mused.
“Never doubt it,” Drake growled.
“Help me turn her,” Manuel said to Drake. “I want that ass.”
“Not until I’ve prepared her,” Drake warned.
“I’d never hurt any woman, much less yours,” Manuel said, his eyes narrowing.
Drake inclined his head. “Of course. I meant no insult. Evangeline is very precious to me and I wouldn’t have her hurt in any way.”
The two men turned her, ensuring her comfort. Drake untied her wrists and positioned her so her hand was free to touch herself. Manuel placed a pillow beneath her knees and then backed away so Drake could apply lubricant to Evangeline’s opening while he himself coated the condom he wore.
Drake moved to the head of the bed, lazily reclining against the headboard so he had a firsthand view of both Evangeline and Manuel.
“You will let me know if it becomes too much,” Drake said in a serious tone, his gaze boring into Evangeline.
“I won’t let you down, Drake,” she said huskily.
He frowned. “The only way you would let me down is by enduring pain because you think to please me. I want your promise.”
“I promise,” she said sincerely.
Drake lifted his gaze to Manuel, who had taken position on his knees behind Evangeline and even now caressed and stroked her bottom.
“Redden her ass before you fuck her.”
“My pleasure,” Manuel murmured.
Evangeline moaned softly, closing her eyes briefly in anticipation. What would another man’s hand feel like smacking her behind? Her only experience with spanking had been with Drake. Would it only feel good because it was him?
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