Phantasie

by Kit Tunstall

  “Fine, we’re playing. What’s my safe word? Whatever it is, I invoke it.” Regan didn’t like the note of panic in her voice, but couldn’t rein it in.

  Harris eyed her with puzzlement. “This isn’t a game, Regan. There are no safe words for you—just the ultimate thrill: Your complete submission to me.”

  He moved quickly, pinning her against the door. Regan’s breath left her in as she slammed against the wood. Stars danced behind her eyes from the blow to her head, and her stomach quavered. “No.” Despite her pain and the disoriented feeling overtaking her, her voice was still strong and steady. “No,” she said again. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”

  When he made no effort to release her, Regan’s anger flared. With a wordless cry, she brought her knee into his groin, slamming into his balls. There was nothing cool or impassive about Harris’s cry of pain. He crumpled to his knees, cupping his balls.

  Regan took a step sideways, preparing to open the door and physically kick him out, if she needed to. She was unprepared for the joy in his expression, or the complete supplication in his posture.

  “You’re dominant.” He sounded as though he would orgasm that very minute. “I submit.” He bowed his head, but the disturbing gleam in his eyes was still visible.

  He sickened Regan. “Get out.” She said it with little force, knowing he would comply, even if he didn’t like it. He thought she was stronger and was prepared to yield to her. “Just leave.”

  Harris maintained a slumped posture as he crawled to the door Regan opened. She didn’t know if the pain in his testicles had him crawling, or if it was another way of showing his submission. She didn’t care. She made sure he exited completely before slamming the door, interrupting whatever he had been about to say.

  She crumpled to the floor in much the same way Harris had, as her strength fled. She pressed her ear to the door and heard the scrape of Harris’s shoes as he walked across the marble floor. To be on the safe side, she dragged down the phone from the entryway table and dialed the doorman, asking to be notified when her visitor left. Two minutes later, the phone rang, and he told her the man had hailed a cab.

  Once she felt relatively safe, Regan returned the phone to the table and got to her feet, walking shakily into the bathroom. Aftermath set in, and she threw up. Even after she finished, she stayed on the cool tile, seized by tremors.

  The realization of how near she had come to being raped pounded through her, refusing to relent. Her own stupidity had allowed a predator into her home. It was clear now that Harris wasn’t a Dom. He was a psycho using the club to lure women away to hurt them. A true Dom wouldn’t have denied her a safe word.

  She had experienced enough dominance at Harris’s hands to know it wasn’t for her. Not just any dominant would do. Only Dante made her want to surrender all control. She wanted him, ached for him. Needing him frightened her almost as much as her brush with Harris.

  Chapter 6

  By the next morning, Regan had pushed the incident to the back of her mind, knowing she didn’t want to dwell on it, but also realizing she wouldn’t ever forget it. And she still wasn’t ready to face the thought that only Dante could elicit such an uninhibited response from her.

  She worked steadily through the morning, clearing the backlog that had accumulated during her absence. By mid-afternoon, she had a research team looking into a Korean computer company. There was a file in front of her when the phone buzzed. She frowned at the interruption. “What is it, Rom?” she asked, hitting the intercom button.

  “Uh, you have a visitor, Regan.” He sounded nervous.

  She glanced at her calendar, finding nothing scheduled for the rest of the day. “Do they have an appointment?”

  “No, but he says it’s urgent.”

  She removed her reading glasses and leaned back in the chair. “Who is it?”

  Rom cleared his throat. “It’s Dante Giodarri.”

  Her eyes widened, and she leaned back so far the hydraulic mechanism on her chair released with a hiss. Regan righted herself and took a deep breath, searching for a way to get rid of him. She absolutely refused to acknowledge the frisson of excitement coursing through her.

  “Regan?”

  “What is this regarding?” She was proud of the cool tone that emerged from her trembling lips.

  Rom conferred with Dante in low tones before saying, “It’s personal. He says you’ll want to keep it that way.”

  She swallowed at the implied threat. Regan’s hands shook when she ran them through her short bob, separating the strands. “Very well. Send him in, please.” As soon as she hung up, she dug in her desk for the handheld mirror she kept there. Her hair appeared straight, but her cheeks were flushed with color, and she was aware of a faint tremble in her lips. She doused her breath with Binaca and hastily shoved it all back in the drawer as the door to her inner sanctum opened.

  Dante strode in with confident steps, as if he had every right to be in her office. Regan’s lips tightened, and she scowled at him. “What do you want?” she asked as soon as he closed the door behind her.

  He didn’t miss a step at her unwelcoming tone. He crossed the carpet and took a seat in the chair across her desk. Dante placed a portfolio on her desk. “We need to talk.”

  She arched a brow. “I think we’ve said everything—“

  “No, you’ve said everything. Now you’re going to listen.” He took a deep breath. “First, I owe you an apology. I should have told you who I was before we made love. Second—“

  “Oh, that’s all?” She glared at him. “You’ve apologized, so I’m supposed to forget you used me.” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  “I didn’t use you. I won’t pretend I didn’t enjoy bedding you, but it wasn’t for the idiotic reasons you seem to assume. Do you think I would ever believe sex could sway you from a deal, knowing you as I do?”

  She frowned. “What do you mean? You don’t know me.”

  Dante snorted. “I know you, cara mia. For the last three months, it’s been my job to learn everything about Synergies Systems, in preparation of beating your company to Blitzheimer’s.” His lip curled. “Gradually, I found my interest shifting from the company to its CEO. I tried to tell myself you were the logical person to focus on, since you would make the deal, but I knew there was more to my interest.”

  Regan’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh, really?” She meant the words to sound challenging, but they emerged as a breathy whisper.

  “Yes. I found you attractive, but more than that, you were lonely. I also felt alone, and I found myself drawn to you.” He shrugged. “When I had the chance to meet you in Lasënbourg, I seized it. When you offered me your bed, I made a half-hearted attempt to dissuade you, but I didn’t try too hard. I wanted you.” Dante’s eyes darkened. “I want you still. I think about you often, Regan. Have you thought about me?”

  She pursed her lips, refusing an answer. Regan tapped the gold pen against the mahogany finish of her desk and eyed him dispassionately, refusing to betray even a hint of the mingled excitement and renewed anger she felt at seeing him again. “If you’re sincere, I’m sure you’ll have no trouble proving it.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “Give me what I gave you.”

  “Incredible pleasure?”

  She snorted, pretending disdain for his answer, while writhing inside at the truth in his words. “Total surrender. Submit to me.”

  He stiffened. “No.”

  Regan struggled to keep her expression composed. “Very well. Enjoy your flight home. Give my regards to your fiancée,” she added a touch too sweetly.

  Dante cursed. “Do you think I am a pervertito? Gia’s practically a child. I’m not going to marry her to satisfy Giovanni’s need to keep his company under family control.”

  She ignored the thrill the news gave her. “Yes, well…”

  He cursed again, more vehemently. “Why do I find you so addicting, cara mi
a? You are implacable. You know how I feel about submitting.”

  She nodded sharply. “Yes, I do. I felt the same way. I surrendered my pride to you. I want the same in return.”

  He shook his head. “You would let your need for revenge cloud our future?”

  “Right now, we have no future.” She eyed him. “That might change if I can believe you’re sincere.”

  The cords in Dante’s neck stood out as he gritted his teeth. “Very well. What shall I do? Do you want me to crawl to you? To beg for your forgiveness? Shall I kiss your feet?”

  She found all the possibilities a tad unsettling, but didn’t reveal that with her response. “Perhaps later. For now, I’ll be satisfied with you removing your clothes.” She kept her spine straight as she got up from the chair and walked to the door, securing the lock before turning back to Dante, who hadn’t removed anything besides his tie. She snapped her fingers. “Hurry it up, Dante.”

  With a growl, he removed his jacket and practically tore off his shirt. Regan watched his every move as she made her way around the office, shutting the blinds on the wall-to-wall windows. There was little point, as she had the top-floor office, but it gave her a chance to calm her racing thoughts.

  He kicked off his shoes, muttering under his breath all the while. His hot glare scorched her as he shucked off slacks and briefs. Although clearly angered, he wouldn’t be able to deny his excitement. His fully erect cock gave him away.

  She smiled at the sight, pretending a coolness she didn’t feel. Regan sprawled on one of the roomy chairs in the corner of the room and began unbuttoning the top buttons of her lacey blouse. She crooked a finger at him and grinned when his eyes burned with obvious anger at her request as he obeyed her. She considered commanding him to crawl, but the thought of seeing him so humbled appalled her.

  Regan pulled the blouse from the waistband of her skirt and finished unbuttoning it. When Dante stood a few feet from her, she raised a hand. “That’s far enough. Don’t move.” The tremble in her fingers was hardly noticeable as she removed the sensible white bra and tossed it across the other chair. She cupped one breast in her hand, trailing her thumb across the plump nipple. “Do you like what you see, Dante?”

  He nodded, either refusing to speak or beyond words. She smiled at that fanciful thought. “Do you want what you see?”

  “Yes.” It was little more than a grunt.

  “How much do you want it?” She cupped her other breast and squeezed them together, forming a deep pool with her cleavage. “What will you do for them?”

  Dante crossed his arms over his chest and remained silent.

  She tsked her tongue. “The right answer is anything.”

  He growled, just like a wild animal, and began to pace. “Regan—“

  There was a note of warning in his tone that she disregarded. Her intention was to punish Dante for the way he had used her. She had difficulty admitting the rest of her motivation, even to herself. Thoughts of fulfilling her fantasies flitted through her mind, making her question if she were still angry with Dante.

  She squirmed, not anxious to confront the reality of how much she had missed him, and how her body had craved his touch. She blinked away the thought. “Show me what you want, Dante.” He reached for her, but drew up short when she uttered a harsh, “No.” Regan shook her head. “Without touching me. Show me what you would do with that cock if it were in my pussy.”

  His eyes darkened, indicating either her words or the deed excited him. Without acknowledging her command with more than a cursory nod, Dante cupped his cock in a large hand. His strokes were firm and slow. His gaze didn’t deviate from hers.

  As he masturbated, Regan stood up to kick off her shoes. She stripped off her skirt, pantyhose, and underwear before returning to the chair, where she sat with her thighs spread apart, teasing him with the view of her neatly trimmed curls and aroused pussy. She didn’t plunge a finger inside herself, but it was tempting as his strokes increased. Her pulse skyrocketed, and her breath came in short gasps.

  Her gaze moved to his face, and she monitored the way his expression changed as he continued stroking his cock. His cheeks flushed when his gaze dropped to her pussy, and his breathing grew ragged. His hand stroked quickly now, and she knew he was close. “That’s enough.”

  He didn’t falter, but his eyes snapped up to hers.

  “Stop. I don’t want you to come.”

  With a ferocious frown, his hand slowed before stopping. His hands found purchase on his hips, and he stood before her, wearing an expression of mingled anger and consternation.

  “Yes, stand there just like that.” Regan scrunched down in the chair, allowing her legs to spread wider. She kept her gaze locked with his as her hand slipped between her thighs to stroke her pussy. She thumbed her clit and arched against her hand, groaning with the pleasure of touching herself, and the pleasure of having his eyes on her.

  His gaze didn’t move from her hand as she worked two fingers into her pussy and began thrusting. Regan arched her back and thrust against her fingers, while keeping her eyes on his cock. Drops of his excitement leaked from the tip, and his cock had turned an angry purple color. It visibly pulsed in rhythm with each thrust of her fingers.

  She felt herself getting close and withdrew her fingers. Regan extended her hand. “Lick them clean.”

  Dante practically leapt forward in his haste to clean her fingers, supporting himself by grasping the chair arms. His tongue darted along the length of them, pausing to probe between the webs and rasp across the whorls on her fingertips. She couldn’t hold in a moan of pleasure at the sensations his tongue evoked, never having imagined having her hand licked could be so erotic.

  When he had removed every trace of her juices, he moved to hold her hand, pressing soft kisses to the palm. His gaze locked with hers, and he extended his tongue, slowly tracing her lifeline.

  Her heart stuttered in response, and Regan found it difficult to breathe. This wasn’t like the episode she had experienced before. No, this was all pleasure. So much pleasure she might die—which made it doubly difficult to do what had to be done.

  She tugged away her hand. “Thanks for stopping by.”

  He shook his head, obviously confused. “What?”

  “I’ve been aching with frustration the last week,” she said. “You predicted that, didn’t you? I can’t do any less for you.” She waved her hand as regally as a queen would. “You’re dismissed.”

  Dante’s mouth gaped open, and it seemed to take him a minute to gather his senses. He cursed in Italian and shook his finger at her. He punctuated the words frequently with her name, and his glare deepened each time he spoke it.

  She sat without moving, forcing her expression not to betray anything. There were two possible outcomes to her strategy. Dante would comply and leave, so angry he would never seek her out again, or he would ignore her dictates and overpower her, forcing her to accept pleasure. She hid a smile at the thought, praying her calculated risk resulted in the outcome from her fantasies.

  He moved suddenly, without warning, lunging forward and dragging her from the chair to the carpet. His hard body was quick to follow, pinning her to carpet. “You’re driving me insane, cara mia.” His tone was rough with anger, but his lips were gentle when they settled on hers.

  She didn’t resist his kiss or touch. She yearned for both. She could admit that to herself. Dante wasn’t absolved for his deception just yet, but her body didn’t care about what had transpired between them, aside from the sex. It craved more.

  She deepened the kiss. He responded to her overtures and kissed her almost brutally, branding her with his mark of possession. She arched against him, feeling her pussy flood with arousal as he thrust the head of his cock against her entrance. She couldn’t think of anything except having him inside her as she lifted her hips, striving to take in more.

  He withdrew long enough to plunge his fingers inside her, testing her readiness. The moisture he found must have s
atisfied him, because he thrust into her, filling her completely. Although it had been more than a week since he took her, Regan’s body remembered and reacted, expanding to accommodate his girth, while still giving him a snug sheath.

  She wrapped her legs around his hips and matched his thrusts, unaware of the carpet irritating her skin, or of their animalistic sounds of passion. She wasn’t aware of anything except his cock plunging into her. She cried out as her pussy convulsed around him, triggering his orgasm. His fluid filled her as she arched her hips and dug her hands into his buttocks, holding him still inside her.

  The contractions seemed to go on and on, causing her to cry out. Dante’s voice mingled with hers, and their cries of release resounded through the office. Probably into the hallway, to the other offices, but she couldn’t find the ability to care right then.

  Her heart rate slowed gradually. It was only when the convulsions in her pussy faded that she was able to release the death grip her legs had on him and let him roll away. She eyed him with what she hoped was cool indifference. “Well, that wasn’t good.”

  His eyes widened. “What? You didn’t come?”

  She couldn’t hold back a small smile. “Of course I came. Didn’t you feel my pussy convulsing around you?”

  “Sì. It caused me to come.”

  “Inside me,” she added, “without protection.”

  He cursed. “You are on the pill, sì?”

  Regan shook her head. “My sex life has been so infrequent that I didn’t have need for it. I’m not usually the kind of person who forgets protection.”

  “Neither am I. Never, in fact…except with you.”

  She nodded. “That rules out disease then. I suppose our only repercussion might be a child.” Regan shifted into a sitting position. “I’ll deal with the consequences.”

  His lips compressed. “You would deal with my child so casually? Do I not get input on whether I want you to abort our baby?”

  She blinked. “That wasn’t what I meant. I’ll visit my doctor for emergency contraceptive. If things…develop anyway, I’ll raise the baby. You won’t have to be responsible for it.”