by Gia Dawn
“Yes, you are,” she admitted, her heart filled with pride. He gave tirelessly of his time and money and she admired his kindness of spirit. “Now shut up and sleep.”
After all, he had to learn he was not the master in every situation.
He nodded and tried to smile, but closed his eyes again as Isabella barked orders to the resident on call. Only then did she realize she still wore her costume and had given her entire charade away to everyone in town.
By 3:00 a.m. Zayne was sleeping soundly so Isabella decided to sneak out and change, finding a pair of scrubs that would work nicely. But the head nurse caught her before she’d taken off her costume, giving her a conspiring look.
“We are all so glad you have finally come out of the closet, Dr. Seda.” She did nothing to hide the grin on her face.
“You know?”
“We all know and most of us have watched you at the Oasis, but we didn’t want to blow your cover.”
“I guess I am not as clever as I think.” Isabella sighed, heading for the lounge.
“But you are fabulous,” the nurse added sincerely as the door closed between them.
* * * * *
She refused to leave Zayne’s side all night and when he was released in the morning she insisted on accompanying him home, not caring that her makeup was in shambles and her hair a tumbled mess. Although Zayne assured her he would be perfectly fine, when she saw he was still living in a hotel at the edge of town she insisted he come home with her. He accepted her offer with a grin that made her heart flutter.
“We will sleep in your bed together with no masks between us, yes, my lovely?”
“Yes, my sultan,” she whispered in his ear, delighted when he leaned over and brushed her mouth with his.
Zayne seemed to take up every inch of space in her apartment when they arrived. His presence was a force she could not ignore despite the fact she was consumed with nerves knowing what he would demand of her later.
He looked around, nodding in approval before he took his bag into her bedroom and sat it on the floor. “I look forward to tonight.” He quirked a brow in her direction, watching while she fidgeted with her hair, now smoothing it over her cheek, now brushing it back when she saw his disapproval.
Making love to him without the mask was going to be a study in courage, Isabella acknowledged as she forced herself to raise her face to his.
“Much better,” he approved, moving to trace a finger down her cheek. “And I would take you now but I feel certain you require me to check my blood sugar and eat before doing anything physical.”
“No strenuous activity for you at all,” she shot back, jerking her head toward the bathroom.
“Ah.” If anything his expression grew more decadent as he thought over his options. “Does that mean you plan to take the top?”
The flush rose up her neck but she refused to let him win. “You want me to treat you like one of those too-fat sultans you once told me about?”
His rumble of laughter was a delight to hear. “Yes. That would be most excellent.”
“Very well then. You have three minutes to make it to the table.”
He laughed again, the rich sound reverberating through the room. “That is three,” he then reminded her, clicking his tongue in disapproval. “And I did bring the paddle, little one.”
Isabella fled when he bent and unzipped his suitcase, keeping her mind off the rest of the night while she laid out dinner for two. She’d settled for chicken salad over romaine lettuce with fruit on the side and a loaf of crusty whole-grain bread, all of which would meet Zayne’s dietary needs and kept her from actually having to cook. Unsweetened iced tea and decaf coffee finished out the menu—although she had a small bit of dark chocolate hidden away for herself.
Deciding to let Zayne dictate what she would wear for the night, she kept on the baggy scrubs but kicked off her shoes for comfort.
When Zayne returned she was pacing around the table, too jumpy to sit, too edgy to settle. And it didn’t help that he was wearing only a pair of black silk pants that were already beginning to tent between his legs.
“You will feed me,” he announced, grabbing her hand and pulling her down on his lap as he sat. “Without clothes.” He leaned back to watch as she discarded the scrubs on the floor then settled again on his muscular thighs.
“Beautiful. Now I am hungry.” Isabella’s hand was shaking as she reached for his fork. “With your fingers,” he ordered, smacking her on the ass.
Although she jumped at the contact, his hand had been gentle, more a warning than punishment meted out. And the bulge between his legs had elongated to the point where he had to adjust his position, giving her the opportunity to wiggle, feeling a rush of triumph when he tucked his face against her neck.
“If you do not want another scene like last night’s,” he admonished, “I suggest you keep to the task at hand before I find something more pleasant to do than eat what is on the table.”
When he tucked his hand between her legs and felt for her clit she squirmed, scooping up a bit of the chicken salad and shoving it between his lips. “Can I at least use a fork?”
“If you insist, although I do not think a sultan’s concubine would mess with such a clumsy utensil.” He sounded wounded she would consider such an option. “My people have a history of eating with their hands and sharing meals around a communal fire.”
Oh to hell with it, she thought, scooping up another bite of the chicken and slurping it off her fingers before she returned to feeding Zayne. And throughout the entire meal he plucked her breasts and explored between her legs, arousing her to the point she swore she would throttle him if he didn’t let her come.
But only when he’d enjoyed the last sip of his coffee did he push her knees apart and get down to serious business. “Would you like the clamps?” He pinched one nipple between his fingers until she whimpered.
“Whatever you desire,” she answered, leaning back against his chest.
“What I desire is for you to take off my pants and suck my cock.”
“Anything else, oh great sultan?”
“Kiss me, Isabella.” He startled her with the longing in his tone. “In all this time I have yet to truly feel your mouth on mine. A simple thing, but one I have dreamed of.”
With that he cupped her chin and brought his lips to hers, claiming her mouth with an intensity that set her soul ablaze. He tasted of coffee, rich and thick, as if they had just eaten around a blazing fire beneath an open expanse of starry sky. His tongue mated with hers, sweeping into her mouth like the conqueror he was, driving deep between her lips without mercy until the world whirled away and there was nothing left but the two of them locked in an eternal embrace.
His other hand slid down to her breast, thumbing the nipple to a beaded peak before smoothing over her stomach, lower and lower until he found her clit and gave it the same rough attention.
She didn’t need the clamps tonight—she didn’t need the golden chains to know she was bound to him completely. There would be other times to enjoy such imaginative delights but for now it was enough to be skin-to-skin, body-to-body, mouth-to-mouth.
Until he finally took his lips away. “I have grown beyond my clothes,” he said ruefully, pushing her off his lap.
Without a word she slid to her knees before him, tugging off the offending clothing to release the mass of flesh between his legs. It rose thick and hard before her as she wrapped her fingers around its girth and stroked him slow and steady—even when he demanded she pick up the pace. A quick glance showed his hands curled around the arms of the chair, his head thrown back and jaw clenched tight.
For once she was in complete control and she had no intention of giving it up so soon. She opened her mouth and sucked him deep inside, sliding him in and out until she heard him growl in warning.
“Enough, Isabella. I do not wish to come so quickly.” Grabbing handfuls of her hair, he dragged her to her feet and kissed her once more, his tongu
e driving deep into her throat until she whimpered.
“Now you will take me here.” He pulled her astride his lap, chest-to-chest, her knees on either side of his. “Damn, I forgot a condom.” He ran a hand through his hair.
“I’ll be right back,” she said with reluctance, especially when he bent his head and took one nipple in his mouth, sucking on it with delight. The sensation shot hard between her legs, pleasure coiling up from her stomach as he swirled his tongue around her flesh before nipping it between his teeth.
He let her go at last, leaving her barely able to make it to her bedroom where she found what she needed in a dresser drawer. She also found the gold necklace Zayne had given her. She was fingering the delicate bells, debating whether she should put it on, when Zayne snuck up behind her.
“Allow me.” He moved to clasp it behind her neck. “You will always belong to me.” Then he frowned, tilting her face to his. “Is it enough?”
She gave him a wicked smile. “For now. But one day you will marry me, Mr. Saladar, make no mistake about it.”
“Agreed. Although as your master I will decide where and when I ask you.”
Before she could think of a suitable reply he pressed his mouth to hers, stealing her breath with another searing kiss. Trapped in his embrace she had nothing to do but surrender, which she did willingly as his hand slipped between her thighs, his fingers spreading her flesh to tunnel into her body as his thumb found the sensitive bud of her clit. The pleasure built and built until the dam broke and her legs grew weak as she shuddered with the beginning of a climax. As if knowing she was reaching her breaking point, Zayne slid to his knees before her, pulling one leg over his shoulder as he speared her with his tongue.
She was wet, ready, poised to topple over the edge. He scraped her clit with his teeth, the jolt of sensation causing her to cry out his name. And just when she thought she was ready to explode he slicked a finger to the opening of her ass, pressing it deep inside, forcing a scream of pleasure from her throat.
She trembled with the force of the orgasm, holding herself up with a hand on the dresser while Zayne continued to lick and finger her until she cried out his name and tangled her fingers in his hair as she lost herself to the release.
Then he picked her up and carried her to the bed, forcing her to scold him. “No physical exertion.” She rolled him on his back as she straddled his hips. “I was ordered to dance for you, remember?”
When his jaw popped open she stuck her fingers through his lips, effectively shutting him up as she bit into the condom wrapper, managing to slide it over his length with her other hand.
And then she lowered herself onto his cock, undulating as she took him inside her one hardened inch at a time. He cupped her breasts as she moved, grinding her hips against his as she rode him, clenching her cunt around his cock so tight she heard his sharp intake of breath.
“Come for me, my sultan.” She lifted her hair so he could see her in all her erotic glory.
She could feel him tense beneath her as he struggled to hold off the moment of release but she rode him even faster, her body strong from the years of dancing, her thighs keeping him firmly planted to the bed as he arced his back and clenched his jaw.
“Isabella,” he gritted out, thrusting his hips high as he finally let go. “My own perfect pleasure of silk.”
“And don’t you forget it.” She snuggled up beside him. “What do you want for your late-night snack?”
“You. Although if you insist on forcing more food down my throat a simple sandwich will do nicely.” He settled deeper into the bed but she noticed his eyes roamed her room restlessly.
“What?”
“I was just thinking that when you move in with me we will need a bigger space. I will have Ryan start looking for a suitable house tomorrow.”
“House? I thought your people were nomads who hated to settle down.” While her voice was calm her heart was pounding joyfully. A house together was exactly what they needed.
“Even a nomad knows enough to stay by the side of the woman he has come to love. Now kiss me again before I punish you for questioning my every move…unless you are ready to have me pull out my paddle once more.”
She squealed when his hand smacked her ass as he pulled her to him and pressed his mouth to hers. But she didn’t say another word as he rolled her over and settled between her legs, letting him think he was master of their entire world.
The End
About Gia Dawn
Gia Dawn has loved reading romance since she was a girl. She started with Harlequins in her early teens—sneaking them into church because the sermons were so long, much to the chagrin of her grandmother. She decided to write her first book after she graduated from college—which, of course, never made it past chapter three.
Then she discovered erotic romance and a whole new world of writing opened up. She has several titles already published, and is thrilled to be bringing new works to Ellora’s Cave!
Her big brush with fame is that she graduated from college with Woody Harrelson, and one day wants to write a book he could actually star in—although it will probably have to be titled “Fifty Shades Greyest” by then.
Gia welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Gia Dawn
A Taste of Winter
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Master of Silk
ISBN 9781419947636
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Master of Silk Copyright © 2014 Gia Dawn
Edited by Julie Naughton
Cover design by Erin Dameron-Hill
Cover Photography by RVHC-JGP-6109PeriodImages.com, 123rf.com
Electronic book publication March 2014
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