by Maya Banks
“I appreciate your concern, Faith. Truly I do. But this is between me and Serena,” he said gently. “We’ve both made our terms very clear. No one is entering this blind.”
Faith gave a small laugh. “That was a tactful way of telling me to mind my own business.”
“Yes, it was,” he said with a smile.
“Okay, I can take a hint. I worry about you, Damon. That’s all I wanted to say.”
“Your worry is wasted on me.”
He smiled as she told him again what a dear friend he was and then they rang off. He was still smiling as he put the phone down between his leg and the side of the chair.
Quietly, he closed his laptop and laid it aside on the end table next to his chair. For a long while, he stared into the flickering flames in the hearth and absorbed the sensation of being content in his home, a beautiful woman at his feet. He was . . . happy.
A few moments later, his housekeeper Carol entered the room, clearing her throat to draw his attention. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway, her eyes cast discreetly away from Serena.
“Is there anything you need, Damon?” she asked.
“I’d like a glass of wine for now,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “In an hour’s time, I’d like dinner served here in the living room.”
Serena would be hungry, and he easily pictured her comfortably settled between his knees, her head on his lap as he fed her with his fingers. Then he’d stroke her hair and they’d talk while they relaxed and enjoyed the evening. Later . . . He wouldn’t get into later just yet. Sitting with a hard-on and nothing to ease it wasn’t exactly fun.
After Carol retreated, Damon reached for the novel he was halfway through and opened it to read, after another glance at Serena.
He was pleased by the trust she’d granted him thus far. She had reservations, as he’d expected, but she’d handled them bravely and with grace. She wasn’t a coward, nor was she a quitter.
And she pleased him. How she pleased him. He’d told her often enough, for he wanted her to be secure in his approval, but there was no explanation for the surge of pleasure her presence brought him. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to know the extent of his somewhat muddled feelings. Hell, he wasn’t even going to try and sort through them.
He frowned as he remembered Faith’s concerns. Her worry hadn’t been for Serena. It had been for him. Was he so transparent? Had he no strength to enjoy a brief affair with no emotional involvement?
His frown eased, and he became more pensive than irritated. His emotions were already involved. He’d never viewed sex as a stark, mechanical process that two mating bodies participated in, absent everything else. Even when he knew there was no future for him and the woman he took to his bed, he still treated her with respect, and he kept a small part of his heart reserved for each one. He knew all their names, what they looked like, what they enjoyed, what their dreams and aspirations were. Even when those dreams took them beyond him.
Each time, he steeled himself going in, knowing that what he enjoyed with his partners couldn’t last, and at the end of the affair, he’d viewed their parting with only a small amount of regret and sadness.
He stared down at Serena over the top of the book that he still hadn’t read a word of today. The idea of her moving on did odd things to him. Inspired a sort of panic deep in his soul. A stirring, a protest, a cry of a man for his mate.
He shook his head to rid him of such absurdities. This was sex. Sex with emotion but still just sex and fantasy. It wasn’t real. None of it was real.
Letting go of Serena would be hard, but he would do it. Keeping a woman tied to him when she had no wish to be there wasn’t something he wanted any more than he wanted to contemplate the idea that he’d never find a woman who could love and accept him even knowing what he’d demand from her.
Carol returned with his glass of wine, and he sat sipping as he stared into the fire. His book, now forgotten, was laid carelessly over his lap, marking a place he had no intention of returning to.
Feeling the need to touch Serena, he slid the balls of his feet over her satiny skin, tracing the line of her spine and then the curve of her hip and her small waist. Her hair spread out behind her, a splash of midnight, inky and smooth, like liquid silk.
He would definitely see to her hair every day. It was a joy he had no intention of denying himself. He would be the one to wash it when she bathed, and he would dry it and comb through every single strand.
The fire had died down to a bed of glowing coals, but he couldn’t make himself get up to go add more logs. He was content where he sat, his woman across his feet where he could feel every breath she took, every little sigh and twitch.
Shadows crossed the room as dusk fell, sweeping softly over fading daylight. A single lamp illuminated the room, casting a glow over Serena’s sleeping form. As if wakened by the warm fingers of light, she stirred beneath his feet.
He watched her shake off the web of sleep and slowly raise her head. She turned immediately as though in search of him. Their gazes connected and satisfaction coiled deep in his chest that her first waking thought had been of him.
“Come to me,” he whispered, holding out his hand to her.
She blinked away the last vestiges of fatigue, and her eyes brightened and glowed in the soft light. She got to her knees and slid her hand into his.
For a moment he merely enjoyed that first touch, the tingle that slithered up his arm, bathing his skin in prickles of awareness. Then he pulled her upward and coaxed her onto his lap.
She settled into his chest, snuggling like a kitten seeking warmth. He wrapped both arms around her, holding her close. To his surprise, her lips nuzzled against his neck, pressing tiny kisses to his skin.
“Are you hungry?” he murmured.
“Starved.”
“Carol will be bringing our food any time now.”
He slid one hand over the curve of her hip and to the softness of her buttocks. His fingers glanced off the plug, and she tightened against him.
“Does it hurt you?” he asked as he traced the edge of the plastic.
She shook her head against him.
“I’ll remove it when we go to bed,” he said.
Unable to resist, he brushed his lips across her forehead. In response, she tilted her face up, a clear invitation for him to taste her lips.
Sweet, like licking a drop of syrup from a spoon. Her taste was familiar to him yet each time was like the first. Exciting and electrifying.
Her fingers fluttered to his jaw, stroking and touching him as he deepened the kiss. When she started to withdraw, he put his hand to cover hers, pushing her back to his face. He enjoyed her touch. Needed it.
A part of him long buried beneath ice thawed whenever her warmth enveloped him. The aching part of his soul eased. She was his comfort when he’d long decided he would have none.
A sound behind them caused him to pull away. He glanced behind him to see Carol standing in the doorway with a dinner cart.
He motioned her forward then arranged Serena in a position that afforded her the most modesty, despite his earlier assertion that she would grow to ignore the presence of others.
Carol poured wine into the glasses, uncovered the plates and then briskly walked back out of the living room.
The enticing aroma of the food wafted through his nostrils. Next to him, Serena shifted and sighed in contentment as she too caught the smell.
He reached out to pull the cart a little closer to the chair. As he’d requested, Carol had prepared an array of finger foods. Shrimp. Decadent pieces of scallop and lobster drenched in butter. Crabcakes and grilled salmon.
“Mmm, I love seafood,” Serena said.
He took a piece of the lobster and held it to her mouth. He coaxed her lips open and left the morsel on her tongue. Before he could take another piece of the food, she sat up and reached for the plate to choose an offering.
She picked a shrimp and held it to his mouth. He
opened and allowed her to feed it to him, her fingers brushing like fire across his tongue.
They fed each other in silence, taking turns offering food from their fingers. Their gazes never left each other for long, only to take the next bite and return with a smoldering blaze.
When at last the food was gone, Serena laid her head on his shoulder with a contented sigh.
“Full?” he asked as he stroked her hair.
“Mmm-hmm.”
“You sound . . . content.”
She raised her head just so she could see him. His hand stayed tangled in her hair and continued its downward trek.
“I am.”
Her husky sweet voice stirred a longing inside him that had nothing to do with sex or the urge to bury himself deep inside her. It was more. Something just out of his reach that he was at a loss to explain.
“I’m glad.”
He pulled her back to him, letting her softness mold to his body. Against his neck, she yawned and snuggled sleepily into his arms.
“Why don’t I take you to the bedroom and remove the plug? You can have a long soaking bath, I’ll wash your hair and we can have an early night.”
She stilled against him and then once again, she pulled away to stare at him with confused eyes.
“You’re asking?”
He smiled. “Not everything is a dictate, Serena mine. I’m a reasonable man when it suits me.”
She answered his smile with one of her own. “Then yes, I’d love a long, hot bath.”
CHAPTER 20
D amon glanced over at Serena sleeping beside him in the bed. Only the lamp to his side illuminated the room and even then he tilted the shade away so the light didn’t shine directly on her and disturb her sleep.
He’d removed the plug and then drawn her a hot bath. She’d soaked for half an hour before he’d helped her out, dried her and then saw to her hair. He could see the surprise in her eyes when he simply put her to bed without any sexual overtures.
He glanced up at her bound wrists and felt himself grow hard. Waiting until morning to take her would make for a long night, but she was clearly exhausted and he had no desire to take too much from her too soon.
He turned back to his computer that was open on his lap. It wasn’t work that occupied his thoughts tonight. It was her fantasies.
As he scanned back over the e-mail she’d sent him detailing not only the auction fantasy but several others as well, he frowned. It was as though she’d paraded out a laundry list of all the things she thought a master would do to a slave. Take out any slave/master manual and create a checklist.
He shook his head. She even had a fantasy of being tied up and whipped by another man while Damon watched. As if he’d allow another man to have such mastery over her. Any punishment, any pain, any pleasure, would come at his hands or his supervision. No passive bystander would he be when it came to her.
There was no mention of a threesome or more, but he couldn’t rule it out of her thoughts, much to his chagrin. He didn’t share. Ever. If another man touched her, it was because Damon allowed it, but it would never go beyond preparation. Only Damon would enjoy the full extent off her body, of her sweetness.
Still, there were many instances listed that were textbook clichés for the whole dominant male, submissive female spiel. As much as he wanted to make her fantasies come true, if only for a short period of time, he couldn’t bring himself to make it all an act.
So what to do about Serena’s fantasy sexual situations?
There were a few of her scenarios that definitely appealed to him, and he looked forward to those. They weren’t anything he wouldn’t have come up with himself, but it gave him satisfaction that she was open and accepting of his desires, even if she didn’t know they shared them.
He put away his laptop and turned off the lamp. When he got comfortable in bed and moved close to Serena, she stirred and nestled her body against his, seeking him even in sleep.
He smiled in the darkness. Today had been about easing her into the fantasy. Not moving too fast. But tomorrow, he’d step it up a notch and push her further. He had a feeling she’d not only take it but beg for more. And that excited him a whole hell of a lot.
Serena awoke to lips moving heatedly against her neck. Impatient hands framed her hips, spreading her as Damon settled between her thighs.
“Good morning,” he murmured as he slid deep inside her.
She moaned at the sense of fullness. A low throb began in her groin, heated and aching. He didn’t wait for her to adjust. He withdrew and thrust forward again, moaning his satisfaction in her ear.
His movements were quick and urgent. He looped his arms underneath her legs and pushed higher until her ankles rested on his shoulders.
The position left her bare and vulnerable, her pussy wide-open to his thrusts. Each movement forward pressed his warm flesh to hers. His hips slapped against the underside of her thighs and her buttocks as he drove deep and hard.
Still trapped in the fog of sleep, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to his care. Her pleasure wrapped, warm and fluid around her, carrying her on a lazy stream. She was too lethargic to participate, so she let him take her, do as he wanted.
And then he slipped from the clasp of her pussy, and his swollen cock bumped against her stomach. Warm fluid surged onto her belly as he continued to rock against her.
With fumbling fingers, he guided his cock back to her pussy and slid back in, warm and pulsing. He thrust more slowly into her body as the last vestiges of his release were wrung from him.
Her eyes slowly opened, and she stared up at him as he held himself inside her. His brown hair was mussed, sticking up on top, and the shadow of a beard dotted his jaw. His dark eyes glittered with deep satisfaction, and that was what she looked for. She’d pleased him.
She smiled up at him but said nothing. He smiled back then leaned over to kiss her as he slid from her body.
He checked her bonds and then got up and strode naked toward the bathroom. He had a nice ass. Firm and well muscled. Like the rest of him.
Not overly muscled. No Neanderthal type wearing a tank shirt who flexed a muscle every time he moved. He was more whipcord lean, slim but hard.
She relaxed into the plush mattress and stared up at the ceiling as she waited for Damon to free her. There was an odd patience to her mood that didn’t fit her personality. She was extremely impatient. She didn’t like to wait for anything. And yet, she waited for him with a contentment she wouldn’t have thought she’d feel.
Several minutes later, Damon walked out of the bathroom, his hair damp from a shower. She turned her head to the side and watched as he went to his closet and dressed. In a moment, he walked to the side of the bed and reached for the cuffs binding her wrists.
He gently pulled her arms down to her belly, and he massaged her wrists, his fingers light and caressing. Then he pulled first one and then the other to his lips for a tender kiss.
He produced a damp washcloth and carefully cleaned his seed from her skin, his movements slow and gentle.
“Roll over onto your belly,” he said as he gave her a little push.
She complied and burrowed a little deeper into the sheets. Her eyes closed involuntarily, and he chuckled above her.
“Sleepy this morning,” he said as he stroked his palm down her spine and then over the curve of her buttocks.
Then he left her for a moment, and she heard a noise across the room. A drawer opening and then shutting and his foot-steps as he walked back. The bed dipped underneath her as he settled onto the bed at her knees.
His palm cupped her bottom lovingly, squeezing and fondling the plump cheek. His fingertip feathered over the cleft and burrowed deeper until he brushed across the tight seam of her ass.
She stiffened and his coaxing words spilled over her.
“Relax, Serena,” he crooned. “I’m going to put the plug back in.”
She forced herself to go limp, lulled by the pleasure of his touch
. He was patient, stroking and petting her. Each brush of his fingers across her entrance added more lubricant until her body was awash with fiery need.
A single finger breeched the tight opening, and she moaned softly. There was no pain, just an edgy need that left her quivering against his hand.
“Get to your knees,” he directed. “Head down on the bed, legs apart.”
Slowly she did as he asked, positioning herself so that her ass was high in the air and her face pressed into the mattress.
More lubricant eased over her entrance, inside, outside, stroking and gentle. And then the firm pressure of the plug, pressing with unrelenting force. Her body stretched and protested, held firm.
She closed her eyes and pressed her lips together to keep out the soft moan of protest as her opening stretched to accommodate the thickness of the plug.
Back and forth, he eased, each time gaining more ground until finally, with one firm push, he seated it deep into her rectum.
Her head came off the bed as her body spasmed and clenched. She sucked air through her nose as she tried to steady her reaction. Her hands curled into tight balls, the sheet rumpled in her palm.
Damon pressed a gentle kiss to her bottom and then got up from his seat on the bed.
“Take your shower then come downstairs. Bring a brush so I can see to your hair. I’ll be in the dining room eating.”
She nodded, her eyes still closed.
Gingerly, she climbed from the bed, the unfamiliar sensation of the plug stretching her behind making her cautious. She gave a little sigh as she walked toward the bathroom. What she could really use was another long, hot bath, but she wouldn’t keep Damon waiting.
She showered quickly and stepped out to dry herself. The gold band on her arm gleamed in the mirror, and she paused to examine the intricate design. Wearing the band that marked his claim made her feel like one of the slave girls from Egyptian times.
