Legally Bound

by Rynne Raines

  Eve pressed her lips together in a firm line. She couldn’t argue with his logic. If he hadn’t taken it with him she’d be halfway through the parking lot by now.

  “Hungry?” Donavan stepped toward the small café table and pulled out a chair. The table once occupied by only an icer and bottle of champagne now boasted a wide arrangement of elegant stainless steel serving trays and a decanter of what Eve assumed from the aroma to be freshly brewed coffee. At the thought of breakfast, her stomach growled. Other than grapes, she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch with Caitlyn and was starving.

  Donavan gestured for her to sit and Eve wondered if putting her escape on hold for breakfast was a good idea. He waved his hand again, this time with a more commanding motion. Torn between freedom and hunger, Eve secured the sheet tighter around her breasts and crossed the room. Taking a few minutes to have breakfast wouldn’t cause any harm, would it?

  That’s a good girl, Donavan thought, nudging Eve’s chair in as she lowered her heavenly form before him. His eyes coasted along the line of her bare shoulders—the only part of her left uncovered by that frumpy wine-colored sheet. If he had his way, she wouldn’t be wearing anything at all. However, at this stage in their game of cat and mouse he couldn’t exactly strip it off and fuck her senseless. Although that would get them instant gratification like last night, it wouldn’t get him what he wanted. To accomplish that he couldn’t go in guns blazing. If he was going to get answers from her, a more strategic approach was in order.

  He took the chair opposite her and made note of the waves of nervous energy radiating across the table. She clutched the sheet so tightly her knuckles were nearly white and her jaw twitched with a nervous tick. What was she so afraid of?

  “Coffee?” he asked, lifting the decanter.

  “Yes. Please.” She barely lifted her eyes. “When did this get here?”

  “About half an hour ago,” he answered while filling her cup. “Just before you woke up.”

  She picked up her coffee and brought it closer, cupping her hands around the thin porcelain. Donavan finished filling his cup then set the decanter down and leaned back in his chair.

  “You knew I was faking then?” she asked, finally meeting his gaze.

  “I like to think that I always know when a woman is faking.”

  Her cheeks flushed an endearing shade of red and she began fingering the rim of her coffee cup. A tell-tale sign of her unease. He had seen the nervous habit from her many times during their battles in the courtroom. But this wasn’t a time he wanted her nervous. He needed her at ease. He needed her to feel safe with him. Whatever her reasons for pretending to be a Mistress and robbing herself of the pleasures that came with accepting her true nature wouldn’t come out if she didn’t trust him.

  Deciding to keep things casual for the time being, Donavan reached across the table and removed the shiny dome serving cover in front of her. On her plate sat croissants, sliced strawberries, and a dish of freshly whipped cream.

  “Wow.” Her eyes enlarged to the size of saucers. “Quite the spread.”

  Her delighted reaction pleased him in a strange way. It wasn’t often he shared breakfast with a lover. Again, the ritual was normally too intimate for him to share with a casual fling, yet this somehow felt…comfortable.

  “I wasn’t sure what you wanted for breakfast but, I remembered you and Cait ate something similar at that Psychology Conference last July.”

  She paused in dousing her croissant with the sinful mixture of sweets and stared at him. “You…you remember that?”

  Yes. He remembered it. Although he had only been running in to drop off a handful of notes for Caitlyn’s lecture that Evan couldn’t bring down, he remembered it as if it were yesterday. Eve had been wearing a sleek, one piece business suit with gray pinstripes and a pair of black, killer heels. However, it hadn’t been the way she was dressed that made him remember that morning. Upon entering the banquet hall, he heard an incredibly loud burst of laughter boom throughout the room. The sound surprisingly came from Eve. It was the first time he’d ever heard her laugh like that. Genuine. Uncontrollable. To this day, he had no idea what the two women were talking about, but he remembered the sound with absolute clarity.

  “You really do remember that,” she said smiling.

  “Vaguely.” He returned her smile then sipped his coffee.

  In silence, Donavan watched Eve eat the first half of her croissant while he consumed his morning fix of caffeine. Going head to head with her in the courtroom was one thing. He could manage that by drinking only two cups. Going head to head with her in the bedroom was turning out to be a different story. After listening to her scramble around the room in the dark for an hour in search of the key last night, he needed an extra boost this morning.

  He took one more pull on his coffee then set the cup down. Beside it, he placed the key on the table. Eve’s eyes instantly locked on it.

  “You really want to leave that badly, hmm?” he asked with sudden irritation. She redirected her gaze from the key and set down her croissant. Her expression was unreadable, torn. One minute she looked ready to launch herself across the table and fight him tooth and nail for the key, while the next she seemed to want to give in to him.

  “Look,” she said softly. “I won’t deny last night was…wonderful. You were right, after years of built up tension between us, the sex was explosive. But it’s a new day. We’ve worked it out of our systems and can turn a new leaf. At the end of the day, you’re still a Dom and I’m still a Mistress.”

  “So you keep telling me,” he murmured.

  “I know you don’t want to believe it, but it’s the truth.”

  “Mmmhmm.” He folded his arms on his chest and leaned back in his chair. If she thought he was going to believe her little lie, she was sadly mistaken. Not after last night. Not now as she sat practically chewing her nails under the weight of his stare.

  “Will you give me the key or not?”

  “Tell you what.” He sat up straighter and braced his forearms on the edge of the table. “I’ll make you deal for the key.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’m listening.”

  “Well, you said yourself that last night was wonderful—I agree. Unfortunately, you still think you won the bet and I still think the opposite. Let’s compromise. If you agree to try your best at being the good sub for the rest of the day and throughout the gala tonight, the key is yours.”

  Her brows snapped together as she stared.

  “That’s practically the entire weekend anyways,” Eve argued.

  “You’ll still have tomorrow to yourself to do whatever it is you do on a Sunday.” He knew on Sunday’s she often went across the hall in her apartment to visit the Old Widow Bellingham. Although Eve insisted she was lured by sugary baking and fine English tea, Donavan knew it was because Eve couldn’t stand seeing the old woman always alone. She was compassionate, and giving of her time and of herself. He admired that about her.

  When she continued to stare, Donavan decided it was time to put on the pressure. “That’s my final offer. Take it or leave it.”

  She muttered a curse then snatched up her coffee cup and downed half of it, all while shooting daggers at him over the rim. The cup slammed down against its saucer with a rattle and it was now her, folding her arms on her chest.

  “I don’t know the first thing about being a submissive. I’m a Mistress, remember?”

  “You’re a quick study,” he shot back. “And, I’m a good teacher. Oh, just to let you know, this isn’t an ongoing offer. It expires in the next five minutes.”

  The pressure was getting to her. He could see the wheels spinning in her mind. She was weighing her options.

  “Time’s a ticking, sweetheart.” He tapped his finger against his bare wrist.

  She propped both elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands. Another minute passed. Finally, she let out a throaty, muffled groan into her palms and he fought a smile. The sound spelled
out her answer before she even said it.

  “Fine.” Eve threw up her arms. “All right. You win. But, you had better hold up your end of the bargain. And considered yourself warned, I really don’t know the first thing about being a submissive. What am I supposed to do, kneel at your feet?”

  “Not right now, but you can do something else for me.”

  “If you say shine your shoes or anything to that effect, the deal is off.”

  “Lose the sheet.”

  Eyebrows arched high up on her forehead, she gaped. He anticipated as much but wasn’t backing down. That frumpy sheet didn’t do her body justice.

  “I want to look at you,” he added.

  “I—I’m not even finished breakfast yet,” she replied in shaky tone.

  “That’s fine. I didn’t say you couldn’t finish your breakfast. In fact, I can’t think of anything that would please me more right now than watching you place delicate pieces of pastry slathered in rich slippery cream inside your mouth, naked.”

  “As much as it might please you,” she said, snatching up her croissant then toying with it, “I think it’s a ridiculous request.”

  “That’s one,” Donavan warned in a low tone.

  Eve paused before taking a bite and cocked her head. “One what?”

  “One hard swat on the ass you’ve earned for disobeying me.”

  Her cheeks flushed even further, but it wasn’t out of anger. Donavan knew exactly what his words did to her. Right now her pussy would be clenching and her heart would be beating a little faster at the thought of whether he’d make good on his threat. That’s exactly how he wanted it. However, she was fighting hard not to let that reaction show.

  Ignoring his request, she took a healthy chomp of her croissant and then wagged the leftover piece at him. “Are you aware that you’ve lost your damned mind?”

  “That’s two. Keep talking, sweetheart. My kindergarten teacher always told me I was the best counter in the class.”

  “You can’t punish me for not wanting to sit here and eat my breakfast in the nude,” she scoffed. “No normal human being sits around and eats breakfast in the buff.”

  His cock jerked hard with her outright defiance. Christ, he was going to love spanking that sweet ass.

  “You just earned number five.”

  “Five?!” Her mouth gaped. “Apparently your teacher was a liar. What the hell happened to three and four?”

  “Three is for trying my patience. Four is because you’re still wearing the sheet. Five is for good measure. When the count gets to ten, I won’t be reddening your sweet ass with my palm anymore. I’ll break out my flog.”

  Eve took a sharp intake of breath that undeniably stemmed from arousal. As did the way she shifted back and forth in her seat, crossing then uncrossing her legs while stroking her fingers lightly over her neck. All four gestures on their own might have been innocent enough. But together, together they sent out a nervous sexual energy that sang to the alpha male inside him. By trying to play it cool, Eve unknowingly turned him on more than she would ever know.

  When she merely sat there and gave no indication of complying with his demand, Donavan began to count again. “Six…seven…eight—”

  “All right! All right!” she blurted out, then cleared her throat. Her voice lowered to barely above a whisper. “Just…stop counting already.”

  The muscles in his thighs tightened and his cock pulsed with her verbal surrender. Round one went to him. But, Donavan knew there would be many more battles to come. Although her words implied submission, her stance still screamed defensive. Her back was ramrod straight. Her supple lips were fused together in a firm little line. If he had to guess, he’d bet his life on her legs being locked tightly at the knees under the table. Perhaps round one wasn’t over just yet.

  “Why do you hesitate?” he asked, softening his tone, hoping she would give him an honest answer.

  “Because I think you’re just trying to embarrass me as payback for parading you around on the end of a leash.”

  He narrowed his eyes on her. Fuck no. Round one was far from over.

  Flexing his jaw, Donavan put his foot against the leg of the table and gave a hard shove. Did she really think he was that petty? The serving trays clattered as the table jumped across the floor, leaving a gaping vacancy of air between them. Standing, he grabbed his chair and dropped it down directly in front of her. The iron legs hit the marble tiles and let out a loud clang. Eve tightened her grip on the sheet. Perhaps she thought he was about to tear it off and fuck her. If so, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

  He dropped his weight into the chair in front of her and braced his forearms on his knees. He was tired of playing this game. It ended now.

  “No. No,” he grasped her chin between his thumb and forefinger when she tried to turn her head, “Look. At. Me.”

  She tried to twist away from him but he wasn’t having any of it. Finally she gave up trying to fight him and reluctantly met his gaze. Her eyes immediately contradicted her actions. They were soft and yielding, almost pleading with him to take her in his arms while her body was stiff and immobile. But he didn’t just want submission from her eyes. He wanted it from all of her.

  “Listen to me,” he said, then swallowed hard trying to reign in his emotions. “Listen closely, because I’m only going to say this once. I don’t know who you think you’re fooling by trying to pass yourself off as a Mistress, but you sure as hell aren’t fooling me. Ah-ah, I’m not finished,” he snapped when she tried to cut in.

  “I’ve known you for a long time,” he continued. “You’re a logical woman. Whatever reasoning you have for concocting such a bogus lie must have some pretty strong legs so I’m not going to ask you to come right out and confess. But, last night when you welcomed my cock inside of you, we formed an invisible agreement. One that demands a certain amount of honesty. If you leave Eden after this is all said and done and still want to live a lie, then that’s your business. But, don’t sit here, look me in the eye, and tell me that I’m the one turning this into a game of petty fucking payback. I’m not doing this to try and embarrass you. I’m doing it to liberate you.”

  They sat staring at each other for a long time before Eve finally broke the silence.

  “If it’s meant to liberate me then why do I feel so…so…conflicted?” Her words dripped with raw emotion. “Part of me wants to tell you to go to hell for asking me to sit here in front of you naked like some wanton whore, while the other part…” She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and shook her head. “The other part of me seems to thrive on it.”

  Now there was the first bit of truth Donavan had heard from her all morning. It wasn’t exactly admission, but it was a start. Right now, he didn’t need to hear her say that she was a submissive, but he wouldn’t put up with her thinking she could spoon feed him bullshit.

  “I’ve never been good sugar coating things, so bear with me,” Donavan started, softening his tone. “You want to tell me to go to hell because I’m asking you to do something that you’re not entirely comfortable with. It’s an unnatural thing to do for most people. Also, pride could be an issue. Not to mention that I imagine you’ve always lived your life being the one in control, having to be that person because of your past, your mother’s lack of responsibility. Now, how dare I come along and try to take that control.” He stroked his knuckles gently down her cheek, hoping it would be enough to take the sting out of his next words.

  “But,” he whispered. “You never wanted all that responsibility. You don’t want it now. You want someone to take the control from you. You want me to take it. You thrive on it because I’m commanding you to sit naked in front of me. You get off on being dominated. Whether you want to admit it or not, it turns you on to think of being displayed like a wanton whore.”

  He predicted her reaction and caught her wrist in his hand a split second before her palm collided with his face. Her entire body trembled, the vibrations carrying through her should
ers and down her arm directly into his hand. Her chest rose and fell with heavy, angry breaths. In her eyes though, he saw the desire. Intense. Unmistakable.

  “You don’t know anything,” she whispered, but her body was betraying her. It was only mere inches but she leaned forward, into him, unknowingly asking him to call her out.

  “I’ll tell you what I do know,” he shot back. “I know that if I slide my hand under that sheet and between your legs, I’ll find your pussy soaking wet. I know that if I jerked you out of that chair, bent you over, and fucked like a savage you’d come hard and fast. And I know that you’re scared to death because the part of you that desperately yearns to be dominated is stronger than it’s ever been before.”

  For the first time since meeting Eve ten years ago, Donavan wondered if he had pushed her too far. In her eyes came a flash of anger, brief denial, some measure of acceptance, and extreme arousal. However, each of those emotions were dangerously fleeting. A tightness formed in his chest. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wasn’t backing down. He was done treading lightly.

  He studied Eve’s face, looking for any indication of her next move. The crease in her brow told him she was thinking. Her lips opened and closed, telling him she was uncertain of what to say. Then her eyes narrowed.

  Donavan readied his free hand in the case she decided to deck him with her unrestrained fist, but she didn’t take a swing at him. Like scattered lightning her gaze darted from his eyes to his lips and then back up again. Then came the assault.

  She launched herself out of her chair and he barely caught her as she crushed her mouth to his. The sweet flavor of strawberries and cream poured past his lips like pure, untouchable heaven. Oh, the woman was a force to be reckoned with, he thought, meeting her tongue thrust for thrust. She straddled his legs, squeezing on the outside of his hips with her powerful thighs and his cock jerked. If he could bottle her sexual energy and sell it on the black market, he’d be a goddamn millionaire.