When the event concluded, he was slowed by the well-wishes of attendees, and numerous people had questions about his father. By the time he reached the table, Hope wasn’t there.
He found her in the lobby, champagne in hand, talking to a small group of people. He appreciated the way she engaged with others, and that he didn’t have to worry about her at social events.
Rafe ordered himself a drink, then sought out Eldon Misken for the coveted autograph. Most people wanted signatures from musicians or actors, but then, there was nothing ordinary about Hope or Skyler.
“Small price to stay at the Parkland.”
Rafe grabbed a cocktail napkin. While the Parthenon’s name wasn’t on it, there was a picture of the Grand House. With luck, Skyler would be so thrilled to receive the signature that she wouldn’t ask about the logo.
“Who’s it for? Your future wife?”
“Her associate, Skyler. It’s a Christmas gift.”
Misken covered the entire napkin before handing it over to Rafe.
“Thank you. Seems a little odd to ask for autographs. The only time I’m asked for a signature is when I’m committing my soul to a financial deal.”
Misken clapped Rafe on the shoulder. “Perhaps one day you’ll be famous.” He picked up his martini and walked off.
Rafe glanced at the napkin.
For Skyler—
Reach for the stars.
At the bottom, Misken had scrawled his name and added a drawing of the rocket that had made his company famous. Rafe wondered if Misken had intended it to be phallic.
To keep the paper from wrinkling, Rafe wrapped it around his wallet and tucked part of it inside to hold it in place, taking care not to create deep creases.
The moment Hope spotted him, she smiled and excused herself from the conversation. When she reached him, she flashed her ring.
“It suits you.” He grinned.
She admired it from a dozen angles. “It does, doesn’t it?” Then she pointed to his lapel pin. “Ooh-la-la! That’s fancy! You’re a big shot now.”
“As if I wasn’t already?”
“Well, now you’re an even bigger big shot. I’m so proud of you, Rafe. Every day. Every way.”
Mindless of who might be watching, he kissed her.
“My toes just curled,” she said when he pulled back. “How long did you say we had to stay?”
“It seems being a bigger big shot comes with more obligations. Let’s talk to a few people, and I would like that dance I promised my future bride.”
Music shattered the conversational buzz.
Her mouth dropped open as she obviously recognized the opening notes. When the Zetas hosted events, they hired the best musicians and actors. Every event was memorable.
“That sounds like Crescendo.” She named one of the biggest classic rock groups in history.
Rafe lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. Being a Zeta had some perks, and he enjoyed her discovery.
“Is it?” She shook her head in disbelief. “It can’t be. They play stadiums. They received a lifetime achievement award last year.”
“You like the group, I take it?”
“Are you kidding me? We won’t mention the amount of money I paid for tickets when I saw them in Houston.”
“Shall we go in?”
Then the lead singer hit the first words of the number. “That’s them!” Hope exclaimed. “It’s definitely not a tribute band.”
Along with scores of other people, they entered the grand ballroom. Three bars were set up, along with numerous tall tables. There were no chairs, not that anyone would want to sit, anyway. The group, fronted by two sisters for more than two decades, was renowned for their rock—some of it hard—tunes as well as some acoustic ballads that highlighted the older sister’s stunning talent. They’d made a name for themselves because of their huge range, some songs starting with haunting lyricism and ending on a crash of heavy metal.
“I can’t believe this!” Hope shouted to be heard. “I work out to this song!”
Rafe took great pleasure in Hope’s delight. They enjoyed the first half before heading back into the lobby during the intermission. Together, they wound their way through the crowd, congratulating new members, discussing business, renewing friendships. Two men and a woman indicated they might be interested in learning more about Hope’s matchmaking services.
“I don’t think you’re getting a Christmas vacation this year,” Rafe warned. “Lots of opportunities to set people up for New Year’s Eve.”
“We have one mixer scheduled. Maybe we should add another.”
“Can’t hurt,” he agreed. “A lot of companies are closed the week between Christmas and New Year’s. That makes it an ideal time. Though I’d rather have you to myself.”
“What would you do with me?” With over-the-top innocence, she batted her eyelashes.
“I think you have an idea or two.”
She waved a hand in front of her face. “Whatever could you mean, Mr. Sterling?”
He laughed at her pretending-to-be scandalized tone.
Crescendo returned to the stage, this time opening with a slow, romantic ballad that had won a major award for best movie score. “Would you like to dance?” Rafe asked.
“I’d love to.”
He’d do anything for her smile.
Once they were on the dance floor, she surrendered into his arms, as if she had always been there.
“What do you think of your first event?”
“I’m a bit overwhelmed, to be honest. I keep wondering if someone is going to pinch me, and I’ll wake up to discover everything with you has been a dream.” She lifted her hand from his shoulder to admire her Zeta ring once more. “Then there’s this.”
“There is, indeed.”
“And this.” She wriggled her ring finger.
“Both pretty solid, I’d say.”
“Like you, Mr. Sterling.” As the song moved into the chorus, she lowered her head to his shoulder. “If it is a dream, I want to stay in it.”
They fit together seamlessly, and he didn’t want to let her go. Dancing gave him another way to make love to her. Even though they were one of dozens of other couples, he had a sense they were alone, that nothing existed but the two of them and the music. She stayed where she was until the final notes trailed off.
Then, because the band was playing more songs she adored, they moved to the back of the room to enjoy the show. The performers segued into one of their most popular numbers, and at least half of the members and guests crowded in front of the stage, as if they were at an actual concert.
The band invited the crowd to join in. And on the chorus, the lead singer turned her microphone the opposite way to feature the gathered crowd.
Applause rang out as the final notes filled the air.
Hope turned to him. Because the din of applause rocked the room, she stood on tiptoes and leaned into him. “I’m not sure how much longer I can wait. Would it be okay if we leave now?”
The need to possess her clawed at him in a primal urge. “Nothing I’d like more.”
“Remember to come back so we can scan your biometrics now that you’re official, Ms. Malloy,” Fitzgerald, the head of security, reminded her as they were leaving.
“I’d forgotten.”
The Parthenon had a state-of-the-art security system in place, meant to protect the estate, but the scanners also made it easy for members to get around while they were in attendance. Room keys weren’t needed. Doors and gates opened automatically.
Rafe asked Hope to remain inside while he had the valet bring the car around.
Within minutes, he had her back at the cottage. His deliberate click of the lock made her turn in his direction.
He still loved that about her—the way her eyes widened when she realized she was his prey. Rafe crooked a finger. “Please come here, Ms. Malloy. You owe me thanks for the autograph I secured for Skyler.”
Her mouth parted. “Are you kiddi
ng me? You actually got it?”
“Did you doubt I would move the heavens for you? Here. Now.” It would be easy enough to go to her, but at times, he preferred to exert his power.
Her shoes made little strikes on the hardwood floor. He liked the way her gown moved, presenting him a quick glimpse of her legs.
When his beautiful wife-to-be was in front of him, she tipped back her head to meet his gaze.
“Please remove my tie, Hope.”
Her fingers trembled as she reached to pull the knot from the black silk. Once she had, she left the ends dangling on his white shirt.
“And my belt.”
She fumbled a little, and her hand brushed his cock. It sprang to life. With a quick, indrawn breath, she glanced up again.
“At this point, I’ve decided not to subject myself to any unnecessary suffering.”
“I’m sorry you’re miserable.” Her smile was teasing, and not at all contrite.
“I won’t be for much longer. You, however, will be uncomfortable for some time. Consider it penance for your sass.”
With a small wince, she asked, “How about if I apologize?”
“Too late.”
Still shaking, Hope managed to release the buckle. After she pulled the leather free of his pants, she curled it into a large circle.
He extended a hand. “I’ll take it.”
With a deep, bracing swallow, she gave him the belt.
“Thank you. Now go sit in that chair.” He pointed to a high-back antique piece near the fireplace.
After she’d taken her seat, he draped the length of leather over the back of the settee. Aware of her gaze tracking his every move, he grabbed his bag of BDSM equipment from the corner and placed the expensive piece of luggage on the coffee table.
She knew he’d brought a number of their toys with him in the hope they’d visit the Quarter. So far, she’d been hesitant, and he refused to go without her. Even if they never went, the BDSM that they already shared would be more than enough for Rafe. What bothered him was that she hadn’t been forthcoming about her reasons for not wanting to attend. When asked, she offered vague half answers or gave mumbled excuses. On occasion, she changed the subject. Now that they were in Louisiana for a couple of days, they’d have time to sort it through. “Any particular implements you’d prefer this evening?”
They’d been together long enough for her to realize that she might not have a choice, that the decision was ultimately his.
“I assume you have something in mind, Sir?” Her voice was soft in a way that told him she’d already started to slip into a different part of her brain.
Over the years, he’d played with numerous subs, but his connection with Hope was unique, perhaps because they shared all parts of their lives. He knew her well, what turned her on, what comforted her. To think he’d spent so long avoiding this kind of commitment astonished him. Then again, maybe he’d been waiting for Hope. “I do.”
“Then I want whatever you want.”
“My sweet Hope…” He walked to her. That hadn’t been part of his original plan, but he had to touch her and show his appreciation for her.
Rafe captured her shoulders and drew her up, then he took her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. On her lips, he savored the tang of champagne and the Dominant thrill that accompanied her response. It was headier than any alcohol. In this relationship, his heart had been pried open, revealing tenderness that he hadn’t known before. He would protect her from anything, even at the cost of his own life.
When he ended the kiss, her lips were swollen and parted, and pure desire radiated from the depths of her amber eyes. When she was aroused, the color became more golden than hazel. That was why he’d selected a yellow diamond for her engagement ring. Nothing else matched her radiance. “I’d like you naked, except for your choker and engagement ring.”
He loved the sight of her nude body. When he remained clothed, she seemed to sink further into her submission to him, and her reactions were magnified. Rafe released her shoulders and took the seat she’d vacated. “Undress for me.”
She removed her Zeta ring then wriggled out of the dress and allowed it to drop to the floor.
With her spine erect, her shoulders pulled back, her breasts high and tantalizing, she started to step out of the puddle of chiffon. He raised a hand to stop her. “Stay there while I look at you.”
Previously, she’d told him that this kind of request unnerved her. “Spread your legs and part your labia.” There was nothing he enjoyed more than sending crashes of sensual adrenaline through her.
For a second, she hesitated.
He lowered his voice and infused it with a harsh whisper that threatened retribution. “Don’t make me ask again.”
She held her breath and remained in a place.
“We can use clamps if you’d rather not do it yourself.”
“No!” She moved a hand between her legs. “I mean, I’ll do it, Sir.”
“I thought that was what you meant.” He struggled to suppress his grin.
Then, with obedience, she pulled her pussy lips back.
“Beautiful.” He planned to spend their entire future letting her know how perfect she was for him. “Keeping yourself spread, walk over here. I want to punish your clit.”
She flinched. “That sounds painful.”
“Most certainly. I intend it to be.”
With great pleasure, he watched her internal struggle play out in her eyes. She knew she’d come hard later. Was it worth it?
Hope stepped over her dress. He exhaled with pure pleasure as she made her way to him.
“I’m not sure I’ve seen anything sexier,” he said.
Their gazes locked as she stopped in front of him.
“Closer,” he ordered, unable to keep the growl of possession out of his voice. She was his.
After a slight hesitation, she inched toward him.
“I want to be comfortable while I do this to you.”
Her breaths were strangled, despite the fact that he’d yet to touch her.
“Enough hesitating, Hope.” She had a safe word to put an end to this, and she had a second word that would allow her to slow down the scene. In all the time they’d been together, she hadn’t used either. They’d talked about that more than once. He’d affirmed that it was okay for her to use one. It wouldn’t change the fact that he adored her or was impressed by her.
But her response had been the stuff of dreams.
Unquestioningly, she trusted him with her body, and he treasured that. He enjoyed taking her to new heights, but he would always be careful with her, and he wondered when she’d show the same emotional trust by joining him at the Quarter.
Her breathing still shallow, she took another step, so that her pretty pussy was near his hand.
“Yes. Exactly right. How many seconds should I do this for?”
“Please, please don’t make me answer that.”
“I was thinking ten to start with.”
She pressed her lips together.
“Another three for stopping too short. Four more for hesitating when I told you I wanted you closer. And, let’s see…five seconds for refusing to respond to my question. Count up the seconds.” He moved his hand closer to her flesh. His submissive was already damp, turned on by his language and the threat of her impending punishment.
“Uhm…” She started to pull away.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said in a conversational tone. “You don’t want to tempt me to make it longer, do you?”
“No, Sir!” Immediately, she jutted her hips forward so that she was right near his hand.
“Better. I’m still waiting for the count.”
“Oh… I can’t.”
“How many? Or we can call it a round thirty. Half a minute of the most exquisite pain I’ve ever subjected you to.”
“Twenty-two.”
“I knew you were better at math than you were letting on.”
&nbs
p; She moaned.
“Lower your cunt toward me.”
Eyes wide with a hazy mix of fear and anticipation, she bent her knees.
“Don’t let go of your pussy lips. You’re an active participant in this. You will count, and no rushing the numbers. To make it easy, we’ll do it this way—one-one thousand, two-one thousand, and so forth. Failure at any part, including you moving away, will mean we need to start again.”
“What if I can’t do it?” Doubt laced her broken words.
“You can. Just imagine how thrilled I will be with you. And the reward you’ll receive later.”
She swallowed.
“It would have been over already if we had gotten started right away,” he pointed out. “Drag it on as long as you like. We’ve got all night for your fear to build and your fingers to tire and your pussy lips to get sore. You know, we could add some nipple clamps as a distraction.” He owned a pair that she didn’t mind, and several that she swore she detested.
“Please squeeze my clit, Sir.”
“That’s my brave submissive.” He dampened his first finger and swirled it around her clit, making the nub swell.
She rocked forward, begging—without words—for an orgasm.
“I revere everything about your body. Playing with it, tormenting it, pleasing it.” He paused. “Claiming it.”
“Yours,” she whispered on an exhalation.
“So charming. Ready?”
She gritted her back teeth and nodded.
“I want to hear it.”
“Yes, Rafe. I’m ready.”
“Count out loud.” That would force her to breathe, which would make it easier for her to endure. He clamped down hard.
She yelped.
“Hope,” he encouraged.
“One thousand one…”
“Keep going.” He increased the pressure until she wobbled.
“One thousand two…”
When she reached ten, he slipped his free hand around her waist, not just to steady her, but to give reassurance.
“One thousand eleven…”
Her breaths were broken little gasps as her struggle reached a fevered high. “Keep your pussy lips open so we don’t need to start over.”
Billionaire's Christmas (Titans Book 3) Page 4