by Raine Miller
The stroking moved to her chest above her breasts, then her midriff and abdomen. The music shifted as well, becoming more melancholy. The chords—she could imagine Cal’s fingers hitting the keys to make this glorious music—filled her head and heart.
The music stopped. Sara realized the stroking had stopped as well. Then with a crash, the music started again and the scratching had moved to her breasts. She arched her back instinctively, wanting more. More on her nipples. More on her clit. More music—that was transporting her entirely, making her emotions soar and crash. She knew that the music would consume her until she was nothing but sensation and love.
The music quieted and the bed jiggled a bit as Cal moved. When she felt his hands again, they were warm and slick with lotion or massage oil or something. All the places he’d abraded lightly now got soothed with a citrusy smell. Her skin soaked up the lotion, swelling under his palms. The piano music was simple again, a perfect counterpoint for his hands. It made those complicated loop-de-loops, though, as the massage got closer to her breasts. Then just as his fingers pinched and pulled her nipples, the music crested and fell almost to the ground.
Sara bit her lip. She wanted to cry out but she didn’t want to interrupt this magnificent sensory experience. More. She needed something on her clit, in her cunt, his cock, something.
The music stopped. No. That couldn’t be over. This was like the pause between movements at the symphony when only idiots who didn’t know better clapped. The piece wasn’t over.
She filled her lungs with air, then let it out slowly. The piano in her ear began playing. She could see Cal with his hands on the keyboard, playing each individual note. There was a quick succession of notes and just when they got to the top, Cal touched her clit with his tongue. A bass line joined the treble, right as Cal inserted two fingers into her, hitting on her G-spot in time with the music.
He had to be listening with her, the synchronization was so perfect. Or he had the piece memorized. That was the last coherent thought Sara had before the sweeping grandeur of the music and the exquisitely powerful sensation of his mouth on her clit and his fingers filling her, playing her, coaxing her to more reaction, more tension, more…more desire…more melody…more pleasure…
She climaxed just as the music came to a spectacular conclusion. Her body was nearly levitating off the bed, she was that taut with need. The release was powerful and overwhelming, wrapped up in the power of Cal’s music.
When it was over, Sara came back to reality. She was panting but her mind was completely at peace. That had been the most extraordinary experience. It had wiped her out. She felt Cal take off the blindfold and the earbuds, but she could barely open her eyes to focus on him. He undid the restraints. She could feel him checking that her hands and feet were okay. Then he pulled the covers up over her, tucked something furry in next to her, and she was asleep.
***
The room was dark when Sara next opened her eyes. She was curled up around Fossie but it wasn’t her bed. And that was Cal’s chest pressed against her back. She jerked away, but his arm around her waist pulled her back.
No. No, this was bad. She was in his bed. He’d tricked her. How else would she have Fossie in his bed? He deliberately violated one of her hard limits.
You didn’t safeword, a voice inside her head reminded her.
I didn’t consent, either. Yeah, Sara had to admit that was a pretty stupid objection. She could leave now. Leave his arms, leave his bed, leave the house, leave his life.
Oh, God. This was why she didn’t want to sleep with him. It was getting the fifty-cent tour of Paradise before being kicked out.
Sara remembered the first nice foster home, the one where the parents seemed actually to want her. She couldn’t remember their names, that’s how shell-shocked she’d been. Afraid that every meal would be snatched from her, that she’d be woken in the middle of the night by some strange man. That she’d be taken away.
She’d been with the nice people for two years, then they moved and she wasn’t allowed to move with them.
Cal mumbled something in his sleep and buried his face in her hair. He was partly erect, probably having a sexy dream. He hadn’t gotten off last night. That was the kind of Dom he was.
Doms varied. Bruno had been a taskmaster, an educator of sorts. She’d learned manners from him, proper etiquette and the right way to move through the world. She’d also learned to give and receive pleasure, something she hadn’t been particularly skilled at before meeting him.
Sebastian was a Dom’s Dom. Highly skilled and arrogant to boot. But there was beauty when he did a scene with a sub. Maybe no emotion, but an elegance that lingered in the imagination.
Mac. Well. Who knew? She’d only seen him do a scene on a couple of occasions, and both times had been with a newbie sub he couldn’t possibly have been involved with beyond that scene. Yet there was something about Mac that suggested a grand love affair of Russian novel proportions.
Cal was different from those three, and from all the others Sara had met at The Club. Cal was so generous it hurt. Like last night. He’d only wanted her to have that amazing experience, merging sex and music into an overwhelming sensation. And he’d wanted her to sleep with him, clearly. Okay, so there was a little sneaky selfishness mixed in with the generosity. But he was as far removed from the sadistic Doms or the “Hey, baby, get on those knees and suck me off” Doms as Sara could imagine.
Still, Cal was a Dom. Every scene was carefully thought out. Even the time he fucked her without removing her panties—he’d known exactly what he was doing. No accidents, nothing left to chance.
You could trust a Dom like that.
That damned voice again. Sara clutched Fossie so tight she could feel her knuckles whiten.
She couldn’t trust him not to break her heart. She had to leave. She’d call in sick—she’d left enough work to keep Becky busy for the day—pack her bags and head for a hotel. She’d have to brazen it out with Cal, who’d be standing there while she walked out the door, but she was bound to him only by an unenforceable contract, Bruno’s posthumous matchmaking, and Sara’s own love.
Hah. Only.
Cal made a little noise, a burr at the back of his throat. Sara tensed, waiting for him to wake up and demand to know what she was scheming. He made the noise again, a longer rumble.
Sara wanted to laugh. He was snoring. How mundane. She relaxed, letting her body snuggle against his.
She’d leave in a few minutes, but for now she just wanted to listen to him sleep.
CHAPTER 15
Cal managed to fasten the last restraint just as Sara woke up. She pulled on her arms, then her eyes flew open.
“What the hell? Let me go.”
“No.”
“Bad enough you tricked me into sleeping with you, now you have to hold me against my will?”
“You have a safe word.”
“I also have to pee.” Her eyes were sapphire laser beams. She’d have sliced him in half if she could. She wouldn’t use her safe word, though. He was gambling on that.
“Then the sooner you answer my questions the better.” He smiled at her.
She frowned. “What questions?”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “I have a couple things I want to know.”
Her lips pressed tight before relenting. “Okay, just ask. I really do need to pee.”
“Remember, you can end this by using your safe word. Until you do that, you owe me your honest answers.”
Her head shifted on the pillow before looking at the ceiling. “Yes, whatever.”
“Did you love Bruno? Romantic love, not merely affection.”
She shot him a blue death stare. “No, I didn’t.”
“Do you love me?”
Their eyes locked. Cal wasn’t backing down. She had a way out if she needed it.
Her facial muscles didn’t move but her eyes reflected all the emotions he’d expected. Anger, frustration, fear, resignation. The
n, finally, sadness. When she spoke, her voice was small and tentative. “Yes.”
He wanted to kiss her all over, kiss that gorgeous mouth repeatedly and forever. But he had one more question. “Will you stay with me?”
She tugged on her restraints, then her eyebrows arched in sadness. “No, I can’t. Don’t ask me, Cal. Red. Please, let me loose.” She was frantic, pulling against the cuffs so hard that it was difficult to undo them.
The tears welling up in his eyes didn’t make it any easier. When she was loose, she dashed for the bathroom.
Cal sat back on the mattress. He picked up her gorilla and held it in his arms. It smelled of her, her sweetness and strength. Cal had hoped her courage would overcome her fears, but he’d been wrong.
He heard the toilet flush and then the sink faucet. A moment later, she came back into the room. She looked at the gorilla, then at Cal’s face. She turned to leave, back through the sitting room.
Cal rested his chin on the gorilla’s head. Just you and me, buddy. And I’m going to have to hand you back to your owner in a minute.
Sara reappeared in the doorway, wearing Cal’s tuxedo shirt, which swamped her. He couldn’t even see her hands.
“I thought you’d left,” he said.
“I didn’t want to have this conversation naked, that’s all.” She pursed her lips. “I woke up in the middle of the night. I talked myself into leaving this morning, checking into a hotel. Only then you started snoring and I don’t know, it must have lulled me to sleep.”
“Why won’t you stay? I’m crazy in love with you.” Cal considered ditching the gorilla and hugging her instead, but something told him that wouldn’t help his case.
“You wouldn’t love me if you knew me, really knew me.” Her face wobbled, then melted into misery.
Cal tossed the stuffed animal on the bed behind him. “Oh, sweetheart, of course I’ll love you.” He picked her up and carried her to the loveseat by the fireplace. He settled her in his lap, cradling her head against his shoulder. “How can you think I wouldn’t?”
“You don’t know me. You only know the perfect sub routine Bruno taught me.”
“Okay, so tell me what you’re hiding under the BDSM stuff. I can take it, I promise.”
Sara started to cry, so it was hard to hear the jumble of confessions that poured out of her.
“I’m a thief and I used to do drugs and…and my parents were junkies…and I was a bad child, they all said so, and I don’t deserve to be happy…”
“Wait. Who told you you were bad?”
“Everyone. The other foster kids and kids at school and—”
“Did Bruno ever tell you that you were bad?”
“No. I kinda wanted him to, at first, but he refused. He’s the one who made humiliation a hard limit. Said if I wanted to be abused, I’d have to go find some other Dom.”
“Only you stuck with Bruno.”
She nodded against his chest.
“That tells me you don’t really think you’re bad. You’re just afraid I’ll think so when I hear about your childhood.”
She sniffed, using the sleeve of his shirt as a handkerchief.
“Sara. I love you. I love your lightness and the dark. I’ll love your past because it’s made you the successful woman and graceful sub you are today.”
She looked up at him. “Really?”
He smiled and kissed her, a gentle touch of lips. “Really.”
“Why did you make me sleep with you?”
“Because I need you in bed with me. I like dominating you, but at the end of the day—literally—I need you at my side.”
She snuggled into his lap, grinding his erection in the sweetest possible way. Sex could wait. This was better.
Several minutes passed in silence, but Cal was no longer worried. He waited for Sara to say what she needed to.
“If I stay, what sort of relationship would we have?”
“Well, I really would like it if you’d sleep with me. Your bedroom or mine, I don’t care.”
She shifted her head to look at the master bedroom. “I was thinking if we just changed the drapes and bedding, this room would be a lot less masculine.”
Cal hid his smile. “Is there room for all your clothes in my dressing room?”
She pulled away to glare at him. “I don’t have that many clothes. And you’ve got next to nothing. Next shopping trip, I’m making you strip off and try on stuff.” She leaned back on his shoulder. “I’ll test all your trousers to make sure I can get at your cock easily.”
He laughed. “Fair enough.”
She took a deep breath. He could feel the tension draining from her body.
When she spoke, her voice was low and steady. “I didn’t love Bruno. Grateful to him, sure. He did so much to make me who I am. And we were happy enough. I didn’t think I’d ever have this much stability. A home, a job, a place where I knew I was welcome.”
“Then he died and I came along.”
“I almost left. I just wanted to hand over my keys.” She kissed the underside of his jaw. “You were so gorgeous, though. Tall and powerful, and you made me feel things.”
“Things?”
He could feel her smile against his neck. “I wanted to kneel to kiss your bare feet.”
“Sounds like it might tickle.” He thought for a moment. “I felt weird when I thought about what a sub might do to me. Really hot and arousing, sure, but you seemed so classy and perfect.”
She looked at him, stunned. “Classy?”
He stared down her sapphire eyes. “Yes. Classy. Smart, accomplished, elegant, and beautiful. Without Bruno’s money, I would never assume a woman like you would look at a schlub like me.”
“Cal, that’s crazy. You’re so talented. Not to mention tall, dark and handsome. Just seeing you in the morning made me wet and needy. And when I heard your music, it’s so beautiful. I kept thinking you’d want a more artistic girlfriend. A painter or a sculptress.”
“You listened to my music? You mean before last night?”
“Of course. I loaded Early Americana on my iPod and played it every day. I’d wake up with it running in my head. I just couldn’t think how to tell you I loved it without sounding like a squeeing fangirl.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you’d have made my day. My year, more likely.”
They sat, comfortable at last. There’d be more details to discuss, later, but Cal wasn’t worried anymore. She was staying. He kissed her hair, amazed this lovely woman wanted to build a relationship with him.
“What was that music you played for me last night?” Sara asked finally.
Cal grinned. “I’ve been a bad boy. I should be finishing my concerto, but instead I’ve been writing that piano piece. It’s a musical interpretation of every time we’ve had sex. I call it ‘Sara, Laid.’”
She burst out laughing. “That’s a terrible title. A pun on ‘serenade’? That’s the best you can do?”
“You’ll help me fix it.”
“I’ll have to. I can’t have a Dom who makes bad puns.”
“That’s a hard limit for you?” Cal could do that. They’d have Mac draw up a new agreement.
She snuggled her face against his chest. “Maybe not. After all, I’m willing to sleep with you.”
Cal’s heart sang with joy. How had Bruno known? Of everything he’d left Cal in his will, Sara was the real treasure.
THE END
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Turn the page to read His To Keep by Stephanie Julian or return to the TABLE OF CONTENTS.
His to Keep by Stephanie Julian
Sexy romantic suspense
One phone call is all it takes to throw Nic DeMarco’s carefully controlled world into chaos. The woman he’s loved for years has been threatened, and he’ll do anything to keep her safe... only, she’s not his to protect.
Annie Reed has been in love with her best friend’s brother since she first laid eyes on him, but he’s kept her at arm’s length. When she takes a job at the DeMarco family private investigation firm, Annie tries to keep her emotions in check. But Nic is too much to ignore.
Finally, Nic has Annie right where he wants her--in his bed. His to protect. But the price might be more than either of them expected...
Turn the page for His to Keep by Stephanie Julian or return to the TABLE OF CONTENTS to choose another book.
CHAPTER 1
“Are you telling me you two took down twenty men? All by yourselves? You must be extremely good at what you do.”
Andrea Reed’s voice, sultry and amused, carried perfectly down the first-floor hallway of DeMarco Investigations. Straight into Dominic DeMarco’s office.
As his hands tightened on the grip of his Beretta, he imagined it was the smooth skin of her neck.
“We’re the best, honey.” A thick Southern accent coated the response. “If you’re ever in trouble, we’re the men to get you out of it.”
Biting back a curse at the testosterone-induced stupidity of that statement, Nic reminded himself to consider the source. Even though he couldn’t see the men in Annie’s office, he’d known them for years. Muscle-bound from their crew-cut heads to their shiny black combat boots, the Idiot Twins were about to get a few more holes they didn’t need.
Shit. Deep breath. Calm down.
They weren’t going to hurt her. They wouldn’t dare. He was overreacting, which was nothing new when it came to this woman.
“That is just so amazing.” Annie’s smooth-as-velvet voice rippled through the air, wrapping around his libido and heating his blood. “And where was this again?”
His knuckles creaked as his grip tightened. God damn it. She was reeling them in like a pro.
“South America, ’bout a year ago.”
Anger seethed, a hot ball of lead in his gut. That information wasn’t for public consumption and these two asses knew that.
He couldn’t completely blame them, though. Annie was a menace to any man’s sanity. The second he got her alone, he was going to throttle her.
