by C. C. Gibbs
She smiled. ‘Nothing rubs. They must have listened.’ Sweeping the robe skirt open, she playfully posed for him, holding the forget-me-not printed material out in flaring wings. ‘You like it?’
Saintly images instantly vapourized. ‘Jesus, baby, that is so fucking hot.’ The multi-coloured jewels embedded in the gold mesh twinkled and sparkled, as if the lush sight of pale flesh imprisoned by stark metal wasn’t sufficient lure to the eye, as if the punitive factor in the locked design wasn’t adequate enticement.
‘And temporary I presume,’ she said, smiling serenely.
‘Why don’t we say for my amusement between my work shifts.’
‘You’re such a sweetheart.’
‘Damn right I am. Because you’re goddamn crazy and I’m still going along with this.’ He softly sighed. ‘Come here. Let me hold you. Tell me this is all going to work out. That this isn’t one huge fucking blunder.’
He looked so grave and sombre, her heart ached. She wanted to tell him she had a good feeling, that he shouldn’t worry. But that would have sounded juvenile and Pollyanna or worse, crazy, like his accusation. So as she moved towards him, she offered modest comfort. ‘Remember, the doctor pronounced me awesomely healthy. That has to count for something. Even if it’s only a fifty percent factor, it’s a good beginning. And,’ she added, going for broke after all because she was bubbling inside with exuberance, ‘I have a really good feeling about this, Dominic.’
He frowned as he held out his arms. ‘Does that counteract my really bad feelings?’
‘Of course.’ She fell into his outstretched arms like people did in those trust exercises and whispered against his grim mouth. ‘Good is always stronger than bad in the world. Always, always, Dominic.’
He grunted rather than rain on her starry-eyed parade. ‘OK, Little Miss Sunshine. Let’s try and keep it that way.’
Dominic was effortlessly charming over dinner, with a grace acquired over years of experience, asking her about her projects at work as they ate, praising her for two acquisitions she’d vetted for them, even talking a little about his uncle he’d adored.
She responded less easily with her gaze constantly drawn to Dominic’s nude torso, or the dark beauty of his face, or the way he moved with such grace when he came out of his lazy sprawl on the sofa to pick up his wine glass or some appetizer with his fingers.
A table had been wheeled in and placed in front of Dominic on the sofa. A chair had been drawn up for her opposite him. So the object of her love and lust was directly in her line of vision. He was ridiculously handsome, tall, lean yet solid with muscle. Politely immoral, indifferent to censure.
As if he knew he was irresistible in all manner of things.
Not just to her, but to everyone, to women particularly. In this apartment especially. And she jealously wondered how many women he’d entertained in this contrived stage set? How many had seen him lounging on that sofa, half dressed, being gracious, looking at them like he was looking at her; his extraordinary blue eyes under his dramatic black brows, warm, seductive, making them wet like he was making her wet.
When he leaned across the table to feed her a spoonful of caviar, and said, ‘Open up, baby,’ flame hot desire lit her from within, every pleasure centre instantly came online. ‘They claim this is an aphrodisiac,’ he added with a smile, the mother of pearl spoon inches from her lips.
She stiffened, offended by Dominic’s casual dispensing of aphrodisiacs. ‘Is this your normal routine here?’
She wouldn’t care to hear what his normal routine had been. ‘It’s a rare caviar, baby,’ he said, ignoring her question. ‘Albino Oscietre. Full of vitamins. High protein.’ He glanced down at his extended hand, then up, held her gaze. ‘We want you to be healthy. And in case you forgot, it’s my rules for the next three weeks.’
She faced his self-possessed smile, that trick he had of looking detached enough to wait for ever, and experienced a moment of helplessness in this game they were playing. ‘But I get a baby out of it,’ she said, to re-balance the equation before she opened her mouth.
After a brief, perfunctory smile, he slid the spoonful in her mouth, sat back while she’d chewed and swallowed, then repeated the process until she eaten the small bowl of caviar on ice.
She gave him a taunting look. ‘What about you?’
‘Don’t worry. This harrowing experience is keeping my adrenaline pumping. I’m just making sure you’re primed. Our contract starts at midnight. Don’t plan on sleeping much after that.’
‘I need to sleep.’
‘You can sleep when I do,’ he said.
‘Hey!’
A tight silence fell. ‘You asked, I’m telling you.’ His voice was rough, uncompromising, then he pushed a small plate of Thai lobster her way and began eating his.
Several courses later: fresh pasta with sorrels, carrot soup, beef tenderloin with Périgueux sauce, artichokes with foiegras, spinach with soft-boiled eggs and Mornay sauce, fruit salad with red berry coulis, a stunning chocolate soufflé for Kate at the end, Dominic said in gross understatement, ‘That wasn’t bad. Are you done? Should we move on?’ He put his arm along the back of the sofa, slid down a little lower on his spine, smiled. When her face flushed, he said, blandly, ‘We can order more later if you like. The kitchen’s open twenty-four hours. Is there something you’d like to watch on TV? A movie? One of your talent shows? Would you like to take off that chastity belt?’ His voice was mild at the last as if coming to the final item on a grocery list. ‘I could help you.’ He slid the key out of his sweats pocket and held it up between his thumb and forefinger. ‘We could try a little test run before midnight?’
‘Where?’ she asked.
He didn’t misunderstand; she meant not his locked room. ‘Anywhere you like.’
‘The bedroom then.’ Getting to her feet, she had to steady herself, quickly pressing her palms on the table. She’d been wet, needy, aching with longing even before he’d leaned across the table to feed her caviar. He was entirely too beautiful, too irresistible. While Dominic as autocrat always had a predictable impact on her libido, each spoonful of caviar she’d consumed testament to his power.
She suddenly shivered at the memory.
He saw her little frisson, knew what it meant. Quickly swinging his legs to the side of the table, he rose from the sofa. ‘A little shaky? Want me to carry you?’
She shook her head, colour rose in her cheeks. She was frustrated with herself for being so susceptible while he, as always, was unfailingly controlled.
‘How about I do anyway,’ he said, kicking her chair out of the way, scooping her up in his arms and moving away from the table. ‘We don’t want you hurting yourself three hours before midnight,’ he said with cool sarcasm. ‘Or prior to our test run. Who knows, you might not be up to this project after all.’
She looked up at him, furious. ‘God, you’re hateful.’
‘I know,’ he said without pretence. ‘Could we go home now?’
But they didn’t.
And her refusal made him as quietly furious as she.
Their test run was wild and wilder yet to the point of savagery. He went after her like a rutting satyr, she fought back, disputing his control, ravishing him in her own ferocious way, coming twice quickly to his annoyance, as if she wasn’t actively bloodying his back and face and damn near his dick at the time. Intent on ruining her third orgasm about to detonate, he muttered, ‘Payback, baby,’ hastily ejaculated into his wife’s vagina, per contract, and rolled away.
Deliberately deprived of her orgasm, beyond frustrated, she took a wild swipe at his face.
His reflexes sluggish with his climax still strumming, he almost didn’t catch her hand in time. ‘Jesus, that’s – my fucking – eye,’ he panted, flinging her away roughly. Falling back in a sprawl, he lay chest heaving, eyes shut, the sting of her claw marks unprecedented.
Kate was tumbled at his feet where she’d landed, panting from both the violent sex and extreme
frustration. She hoped there was a hell for men who did what Dominic had done to her.
A small interval passed, only the sound of harsh breathing breaking the silence.
Then Dominic came up on one elbow, and glared at her. ‘Don’t move,’ he muttered.
As if she could, she thought, glaring back. Although if she could, she would have, just to jerk his chain.
Rolling up on his knees a second later, he leaned down, flipped her on her back and slid a pillow under her bottom. ‘There will be no redo of these three weeks. So fucking lie still.’ Tossing a blanket over her, he stretched for the remote on the bedside table, hit a button and a TV rose from the floor at their feet. ‘I’d ask you what you want to watch but I’m too pissed. And we’re trimming your nails.’ He glanced at the bedside clock. ‘You can move in a half-hour, not before.’ Flicking on ESPN, he slowly exhaled, then smiled faintly. ‘Fuck. At least something’s going right.’ A surfing competition in Bali was being broadcast.
With the pillow under her bottom, starkly reminded of the end game, Kate’s sense of outrage evaporated and she was suddenly overcome with euphoria. She was winning. Despite Dominic’s resistance or what she had to admit was perhaps a well-deserved anger, he was losing.
And he never lost.
She glanced at Dominic, expecting him to show signs of anger or withdrawal. Or sullenness. Instead he was lounging against the pillows, his gaze on the screen, smiling, his shoulders relaxed, his legs in a sprawl, his fingers lightly tapping the remote as though keeping time with some internal music. He abruptly laughed, then let out a cheer as one of the contestants moved up to second place. On impulse, he turned to her. ‘Did you see that? That was fucking awesome.’ A second later, he was completely absorbed again as the next competitor crested a huge wave.
Encouraged by his good humour, she touched his arm lightly. ‘I just wanted to say thank you, Dominic, for – well agreeing to this. Really, thanks.’
He looked away from the screen, stared at her, his gaze briefly blank until her words registered. When they did, he frowned and said a little impatiently, ‘I’m not sure you’re welcome.’
‘Nevertheless, I’m pleased.’
He gave her a funny look as though he wasn’t sure he should acknowledge her pleasure when his mood was so contrary. Muzzling a mean response, he said, ‘Good. I think,’ he added, sardonically and went back to his programme.
*
She woke up when he lifted her in his arms. ‘How long did I sleep?’ she murmured, drowsily.
‘Three hours. It’s midnight.’
‘Where’re we going?’
‘Guess.’
She was wide-awake in a split second.
He smiled. ‘Right. Night games, baby.’
But whether he’d become reconciled in the past three hours or was too tired to sustain his anger, when he carried her into the locked room, he said with a smile, ‘Feel free to sleep through this warm-up exercise. I don’t really need you to participate.’
His smile and pleasantries aside, they were still in this hard-core playground and she doubted she could sleep. And maybe he didn’t really mean it since he walked to an open doorway, set her on her feet and pointed. ‘You might want to use the bathroom before we begin. Take a shower if you like. It’s not necessary, but we’re probably going to be busy for a while. So,’ he smiled, ‘whatever. I’ll wait for you out here.’
It was a beautiful large room with black marble and mirrors, two glass-walled showers, an enormous sunken tub, a separate area for toilets and bidets. Built-in shelves lined one wall with stacks and stacks of white towels, wash cloths, shampoos, perfumes, cosmetics. She half expected a spa attendant to jump out from the shadows and ask her if she wanted a massage. Had she known, normally, three spa attendants were in attendance. Soon after Dominic met Kate, the staff had been given positions elsewhere, the room closed.
In fact, his call to open the apartment had come as a surprise.
Kate was grateful Dominic had said a shower was optional. After three hours’ sleep, she wasn’t ambitious enough. But she tidied up a little and returned to Dominic’s playroom.
He pushed away from the entry wall where he’d been waiting. ‘That didn’t take long.’
‘A little soap, lots of perfume. You’ll have to settle for that.’
His smile was lazy. ‘Not a problem. Ready?’
She made a little circle with her finger in a sweep of the room. ‘This all makes me a little nervous. Just so you know.’
He held out his hand. ‘We’ll take it slow.’
She didn’t move. ‘That sounds scary.’
‘Want me to carry you?’
‘Where?’
He grinned. ‘To the moon.’ Then he shrugged. ‘Shut your eyes if you want. I’ll tell you when you can open them.’
She followed his advice because it was easier not to know. And he was being nice, his earlier anger gone. ‘Is this going to hurt?’ she asked, as he picked her up.
‘It shouldn’t.’
Her eyes snapped open. ‘I don’t like the sound of that.’
He smiled a little. ‘If it hurts, we’ll stop. How about that?’
‘OK.’ She let her eyelids fall. ‘I trust you.’
‘I don’t know if you should do that.’
But despite his contradiction, his voice was teasing. ‘Now, you’re just fucking with me,’ she murmured, his strong body flexing lightly against hers as he walked.
‘Not yet, baby. You’ll know when I’m fucking you.’ He came to a stop, made a small adjustment on something with his elbow, then deposited her onto smooth leather.
The sensation of coolness brought her eyes open. ‘Oh,’ she said, turning her head one way then the other, taking in the apparatus of the violet leather swing, her gaze guarded as she looked up at Dominic.
He moved forward, slid his hands up her ankles, calves, under her knees, spread her legs, took a step closer, his thighs resting against the seat rim. Then he slid his fingers down to her calves again and lifting gently, held her legs against his hips. Leaning forward slightly, he activated the swing and it swung back. He moved back, the swing followed. ‘Pretty simple, right?’
She took a small breath, nodded.
‘You really can sleep now if you’re tired. I’m going to take it super slow.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Last time was a pretty high octane.’ A quirked grin. ‘Bloody.’
She glanced up, saw the naked scratches and abrasions on his face and shoulders. She’d ripped off small pieces of skin here and there.
‘We’ll trim your nails later,’ he said, reading her gaze.
‘Or would you like someone to come up and give you a manicure?’
She stifled an emphatic no, preferring not to remind him of her previous violence. She shook her head.
He grinned at her restraint. ‘Worried?’
‘In here? Always,’ she replied honestly.
‘We’ll have to see about changing your mind, baby,’ he pleasantly said. ‘Let’s see if you can come a few times.’
‘Really? You’re not mad?’
He raised one brow. ‘Don’t ask me things I can’t answer.’ Shifting her attention to something less controversial, he let her legs drop, cupped her breast, slid his thumb over her nipple, watched it stiffen. ‘You felt that,’ he murmured, smiling faintly. ‘And this?’
She arched her back into his hand as he gently squeezed her nipple, delectable sensation gliding downward to her sex, softly pulsing through her warming flesh, instantly sending out a drumbeat of arousal to the far reaches of her body.
Bending low, he took her nipple into his mouth and sucked gently, barely touching her, the pressure so delicate, she reached up and pulled his head closer.
‘Uh-uh,’ he said around her nipple, reaching up and unclasping her hands. ‘Don’t touch. If you do, I’ll stop.’
Her hands fell away as if burned.
He tortured her with deliberately light licks and sucks, a grazing sensati
on of his lips, the occasional delicate scoring of her nipple with his teeth. A surprising sharp, hard suck twice.
Eliciting a lush, heated groan from Kate.
But still, he made her wait, framing her breast in his large hands, sucking first one nipple then the other, repeating the pattern for some time until she was flushed and visibly shaking. Only then did he lift his head. ‘I suppose you want to come now?’
There was something in his expression that made her wary.
‘I’m waiting for an answer, Katherine.’
‘I would like to, yes.’
‘How much?’ His voice was cool, his eyes cooler, the underlying message unmistakable.
‘I don’t care if I come the entire three weeks. Does that answer your question?’
He went utterly still. ‘You’re pissing me off. You know that.’
‘I wish I could make it better for you,’ she said, softly, looking down for a moment before she met his gaze. ‘Really I do.’
He gave her a tired look. ‘Old arguments, no good answers.’ He stared at her for a moment. ‘What the fuck,’ he said, suddenly impatient. ‘You’re my constant wet dream, and reservations aside, my dick’s psyched. So open yourself for me, baby. Let’s do this.’
Throbbing with longing after Dominic’s torturous attention to her nipples, she quickly obliged. Sliding her fingers over her slick cleft, she drew the pink, pouty flesh open.
‘Put him in.’ A brusque order, hard and flat. Leaning in slightly so she could reach his huge, grandstanding dick, he swept her legs around his waist in one smooth gesture, then took a sharp breath. ‘Your hands are cold.’
‘Lucky your dick is on fire.’
‘Lucky for both of us,’ he said, mockingly.
She glanced up, opened her mouth, changed her mind, shut it again.
