by Rynne Raines
Between them, Eve held up a thick leather collar attached to a shiny silver leash.
“You can’t be serious,” he scoffed.
“Can’t I be?” she challenged. “I’m dead serious. I like my slaves wearing a collar, I find it unbelievably,” she searched her brain for a convincing word, “sexy.”
His eyes weren’t calm anymore. They were wild and daunting and Eve could have sworn there was steam rising from the lapels of his shirt. Just the reaction she was counting on.
“Every minute you delay will be one more minute I parade you around here as my new toy,” she added.
Silence fell between them. Unnerving silence.
As Donavan stared at the collar, his scowl deepened and Eve’s heart thundered in her head. He’s not seriously considering wearing it? Is he?
Being a Dom, Donavan should have loathed the very idea of the leather strap fastened around his neck. Only a submissive would feel privileged to be on the end of her leash and showcased as her possession. So what the hell was taking him so long to call the bet off?
Eve lifted the collar to his throat. “Here, let me help you.”
His hand shot up and closed around her wrist. Eve’s breath caught as her pulse beat wildly under his strong fingers.
“Let go of me,” she whispered in a harsh tone.
The muscle in his jaw flexed and his eyes turned a darker, more dangerous shade of gray than she’d ever seem them before. “You don’t want to do this, Eve.”
Refusing to be intimidated, she jerked her hand free. “I do want to do this. Now, either you call of the bet or you put the damn thing on.”
Please call off the bet. Please.
The air became so thick with tension Eve could barely breathe it in. Just when she thought he was about to tell her to shove the collar where the sun don’t shine, he snatched it from her hand, swore, and fastened it around his thick neck.
Shocked, Eve stared. This couldn’t be happening. He was supposed to call off the bet, not go along with it! Caitlyn’s secret weapon had failed miserably. Her only options now were either to call off the bet herself or spend the weekend with him.
Still scowling, Donavan released her wrist and dramatically waved an arm. “Lead the way, oh mighty Mistress of Eden.”
Eve hesitated. Although she had seen plenty of femme Dommes lead their slaves around on a chain she never anticipated being one of them. How hard could it be?
“Well?” Donavan bit out. I don’t want to be wearing this fucking thing longer than necessary. “You going to just stand there?”
“Um…” Eve swept a shaky gaze around the club and then finally pointed. “That way. We’ll go that way. Onward, slave.”
Onward, slave? Oh, the woman had nerve. If there weren’t a greater goal at risk—one he’d yearned for since first seeing her at the college library, gnawing on the end of her pencil while perusing a legal text through a pair of mousey, yet somehow unbelievably attractive, reading glasses—he would have torn the collar from his neck, locked it on hers, and then dragged her kicking and screaming to their private room. Unfortunately, he didn’t want to take the chance of her somehow slipping away and darting for the doors. He needed to get her to the room.
As Eve paraded him in three full circles around the club, nausea gurgled in Donavan’s stomach. He could feel the appraising eyes of other Mistresses as they scanned him from head to toe like he were a piece of meat. For a submissive, the hungry stares of every femme Domme in the room would be considered the highest form of compliment. As a Dom, it made his gut churn.
In need of a distraction, Donavan focused his eyes on the gentle curve of Eve’s exposed shoulder blades, her tightly cinched waist, and the seductive bow of her hips. The skirt of her elegant ballroom gown swayed side to side like a church bell. The generous cascade of fabric concealed her long legs but he knew they were under there and the thought of them wrapped around his waist as he drove his cock into her sweet pussy made his blood boil.
Enough was enough.
With the little slack there was, Donavan wrapped the chain around his palm and yanked. The leash snapped taut. In front of him, Eve stumbled with the sudden resistance and gracelessly lurched backward. Her back slammed into his mid-section and he barely caught her before she fell flat on the floor.
“Damn it! What are you doing?” she demanded.
“We’ve circled this place over three times; a groove is beginning to form in the floor.”
Fuming, she shoved his arm away and turned to face him.
“Maybe I like to…exercise my slaves,” she replied pointedly, tilting her nose in the air as if she were the heiress to the crown jewels.
“Or maybe you’re afraid to go to the room with me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snapped. Her tone was sharp but through the holes of her golden mask, those cat-like green eyes clouded with apprehension.
“Fine,” she continued. “I think we should go to the room. Those grapes aren’t going to peel themselves.”
“No, I imagine they won’t,” he agreed, with no intention of peeling any grapes whatsoever. He gestured a hand when she looked uncertain of where to go next. “Studio seven is that way.”
They traveled down a long corridor. Extravagant sex rooms flanked the hall. Some of the rooms were completely enclosed while others were made with glass walls for the benefit of voyeurs and exhibitionists. Over the years, Donavan had entertained submissive women in all thirty of Eden’s play rooms. However, studio seven was the perfect setting for what he had in store for Eve this weekend.
“Well…here we are,” Eve murmured, stopping in front of a door marked with the Roman numeral seven.
“Here we are,” he echoed, noting the slight tremor in her voice. She was ringing her hands together, her eyes darting from the door then quickly back to the floor. These were not the mannerisms of a haughty Mistress intent on enslaving a man for a weekend. Nervous energy radiated off her and awakened the alpha male in him. Eve was no Mistress. He was sure of it. As soon as they stepped inside their room, he would have forty-eight hours to prove it.
Leaning past her, he shoved the key in the lock but before he could turn it, her hand clamped down on his.
“Problem?” he asked, shifting his gaze from her hand to her face.
“No. No problem. I—I just want to give you one last chance to turn and run,” she said in a matter of fact tone. “I know you don’t want to spend the weekend as my slave.”
Damn right he didn’t but he had no intention of spending the weekend as her slave.
“As much as I appreciate the offer, I’m not running type.” He turned the key then pushed open the door. “After you…Mistress.”
****
Oh, you’ve really done it this time, Eve.
Arm braced against the door, Donavan angled an expectant look down at her. Eve nibbled her lower lip and contemplated bolting for the exit. Pride quickly stomped on that idea. She wasn’t the running type either.
“No time like the present,” Donavan urged.
“You’re absolutely right.” She dropped the leash handle, gave her hair a snooty toss and squared her shoulders. If she was going to play a Mistress, she might as well do it with gusto. With her nose tipped in the air, she strode past him into the dimly lit void.
She took long, seductive strides and concentrated more on the sound of her heels clicking across the floor than on the uneven sound of her anxious breathing. When she reached the center of the massive chamber and swept a gaze around the room, her breath caught. Were they in the right place? This had to be a mistake.
From the stunning canopy bed dominating the east wall to the bronzed candelabras illuminating the chamber with a warm glow, the décor was elegant and tasteful. Here she’d expected a dungeon fully equipped with a torture chamber and what she’d entered was small piece of heaven. There was even an intimate dining area with a small café style table and two chairs. She had stayed in five star hotels less luxurious.<
br />
Oh yes, this doesn’t seem so bad.
There were, however, a few things inside the room that she’d never seen at a five star hotel. Starting with the provocative artwork. Several pictures framed in swirly gold adorned the walls. Each picture followed a similar theme—gorgeous females bound and exposed and awaiting their Dominant’s touch. Some were even gagged, their rosy red lips hugging sleek rubber balls. An unwanted shudder rolled through Eve and she forced her eyes away. Apparently even the interior decorator was plotting against her.
She redirected her attention to a set of leather cuffs suspended to a thick chain that hung from the vaulted ceiling. Curious, Eve ventured toward them. These were not the one-size-fits-all type she was accustom to seeing used at the club. These cuffs were small and delicate and lacked a sizing belt. Stopping just below them, she tilted her head. Two metal snaps lined the edge and the length of leather was so short it would barely fit around her wrist let alone the wrist of a man the size of Donavan.
“Something wrong?” Donavan asked in a quiet tone. She didn’t need to turn around to know he stood directly behind her. The heat of his body seeped into hers. The slow, steady stream of his breath tickled her hair.
“I…I was just noticing how small these restraints are. They hardly look big enough to restrain a man.”
“You don’t say.” The whimsical tone of his voice tightened every muscle in her body. He didn’t sound surprised by her observation. He sounded pleased.
An abrupt jangle rang out and Eve’s gaze followed the noise to the floor. There the collar and leash sat in a pile near her feet. Her vision blurred. The handsome bastard never had any intention of making good on their bet.
Oh, this is not good.
Letting out a shaky breath, Eve flattened her palm against her lower abdomen as butterflies fluttered in her tummy. She would not panic. She was a level-headed, confident, professional woman. She never panicked.
“Well,” she started in the most confident tone she could manage, “this just won’t do. Guess I’ll go inform the staff that there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Whirling on her heels, she locked eyes with him. “I will go wherever I please, slave.”
She started for the door but Donavan’s arm flashed out and snaked around her waist. Her strength was no match for his. Even when she dug her heels into the floor, he easily hauled her back.
“What are you doing?!” she snapped, but he barely acknowledged her. Two powerful hands closed around her wrists and he yanked her arms above her head. Eve’s frantic gaze followed her arms up and a lump lodged in her throat. The restraints…okay, now it was time to panic.
“Stop! Let go of me!” Her demands went unanswered as she tugged, twisted, and bucked. “This is not part of the agreement!”
Expertly, he fastened her wrists into the small cuffs. The moment the last snap clicked, her blood turned hotter than molten lava. She hadn’t been man-handled like this since freshman year in college—the year she discovered being restrained made her panties soak. Like then, her flimsy lace thong grew damp and her pussy greedily clenched with the need to be filled. Oh, this is not good. Not good at all.
“This isn’t funny. Let me down,” Eve demanded, and jerked on her binds.
“Yeah…not gonna happen.” He sank onto his haunches then one after another removed her shoes. Without the extra inches, she was forced to stand on the balls of her feet. Now barefoot and unsteady, she swung like a side of beef in a walk in freezer. How could he do this to her? And why did it have to make her so damn hot?
Huffing and puffing, Eve glared down at him. Unfortunately, she couldn’t see past his wide shoulders to glimpse what he was doing but knowing Donavan, it wasn’t good.
Steel groaned and a shiver shot up her left leg as cold iron encircled her ankle. Like the leather cuffs weren’t enough? He had to restrain all her limbs? Heart hammering, Eve kicked her right leg out and caught him square in the chest with her knee. He swore under his breath and a sense of triumph rolled through her.
It was short lived, however. In seconds, her free ankle was secured and Eve no longer felt like a side of beef but an ancient sacrifice. Any minute now some mythical dragon intent on devouring her would materialize from one of the dark corners of the room.
Donavan rose to his full height of six-foot-two then removed his mask and tossed it in the direction of her forsaken high heels. Without the obstruction, his chiseled features appeared more handsome in the incandescent glow flooding the room. A dark shadow fell over his slate gray eyes but Eve could still see them clearly. The only thing in the room that looked intent on devouring her was him.
“You’ve been a naughty, naughty girl, Evelyn.”
“Me!” Eve shrieked. “You’re the one going back on your word.”
“I think it’s only fair, considering you fixed the bet.”
All the air rushed out of her lungs. How in the hell did he know that?
“I—I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lied, trying to keep a straight face.
He reached for her mask and drew it off, along with it went her riotous mass of fake red curls. Now face to face, no costume or means of escape, Eve felt surprisingly exposed.
“Give me back my mask,” she ordered.
“No,” he said simply. “Lie to me again and the next thing you lose is the dress.”
Her heart paused and her skin warmed.
“You. Wouldn’t. Dare.”
He stepped towards her then bowed his head until she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips. “Try me.”
Quickly Eve thought back to how many times she’d caught him bluffing in court. Four? Five? Every good lawyer did it from time to time. He couldn’t possibly know she had fixed the bet. He was just hoping she had done something underhanded to warrant his actions. He’d been trying to out her as a submissive for years now.
“Did you or did you not fix the bet?”
Lifting her chin proudly, Eve did what any good lawyer in her situation would do—she lied her ass off. “I did not fix the bet.”
He clucked his tongue and circled to stand behind her. Frantically, Eve swiveled her head and then gasped as he jerked hard on the laces of her corset. The gown dropped into a pool of fabric around her ankles and she shuddered.
Oh God. Not bluffing.
Chapter Three
Oh, he had waited a very long time to have Eve bound and at his mercy. Other than her forcing him the wear a collar—he would punish her for that later—the night was running rather smoothly. Now all he had to do was persuade Eve to tell him the truth about fixing the bet then collect his prize.
Donavan scrubbed the back of his hand over his mouth and savored the sight before him. Every muscle in Eve’s body was stretched lean and long as she balanced on the tips of her toes. Her back was a shapely canvas of porcelain cream skin with only the garnet band of her strapless bra for contrast. His eyes roamed lower and his cock jerked. Her perfectly round ass dressed in that skimpy thong looked good enough to bite. Though the lingerie was stunning and the deep red complimented her creamy skin, he couldn’t wait to get her out of it.
“Now,” he whispered against her ear. “You don’t have much for clothes left. Do you really want to lie to me again?” He stroked the tip of his index finger down the center of her back and her full body shiver made his cock pulse.
“I’m not lying,” she insisted in a half frustrated, half aroused voice.
A slow smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. God, he loved her determination.
“Wrong answer,” Donavan murmured against her hair. He smoothed his hands along the curve of her waist and she trembled under his palms. He delighted in every ripple, every shudder. Her breathing turned shallow as he stroked the side-wells of her hips. He traced the bikini line of her panties with his thumbs and through the fabric the moist heat of her pussy radiated into his fingers. She was so ready. So wet.
> How far would Eve go to protect her little lie?
He inched his fingers inward, grazing the sidewalls of his knuckles ever so lightly over her plump pussy lips.
“Shit,” she choked out. “All right! All right. I fixed the damn bet. Now unlock me!”
Grasping her hips, he jerked her back so her ass collided with his groin. “Do you really think you’re in a position to be making demands?”
He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her shoulder and unsnapped the clasp on her bra. The fabric fell away. Reaching around, he cupped her milky white breasts in his palms and squeezed gently. Finally, she moaned. The raw and uninhibited sound was music to his ears. Her hips wriggled and the swell of her ass repeatedly bumped against his groin, teasing his cock.
“From where I’m standing it looks like you’re at my mercy,” he replied, holding back a moan.
Panting and vibrating, her head arched back against his shoulder. “What are you going to do, Carver?” she asked in breathy tone. “Keep me here against my will and fuck me senseless all weekend?”
“Mmm, fuck you senseless? Without a doubt. As for against your will…Tell me that you don’t want to be here.” He circled to stand in front of her and the full impact of her body struck him like a fist to the solar plexus. Christ, she had amazing tits. Not overly large, but full and perky with small, tight nipples that beckoned for his mouth.
He lifted his gaze to hers and she quickly looked away. An endearing flush stained her cheeks and he wondered how much of it was from arousal and how much was from the unease of being chained and nearly naked in front of him. Determined to find out, he moved closer, until only a few inches of heated air separated their bodies.
“Look at me,” he demanded softly. “Did you think after all these years, we wouldn’t inevitably end up in bed together?”
“Why on earth would I think that?” Her desire filled eyes lowered to his lips. “We’re colleagues and nothing more,” she added, innocently.
