Daye, Lavender - Bound By Trust (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Lavender Daye

  Kerri rinsed and dried, wrapping a towel around her hair and pulling on a pair of soft cotton leggings and an oversized top. Deft hands combed the tangles out of her hair and braided it down her back while still damp. Maybe a nice fattening pizza and a few glasses of wine would help her put her life into perspective. She huffed in halfhearted amusement. She’d been intoxicated for the entire weekend, just not from alcohol.

  The next morning, Kerri flipped the alarm off and stared at the ceiling, still not seeing a solution to her problems in the white patterns of the plaster. She sent a quick text to Carol, letting her know she was under the weather and wouldn’t be in this morning, then put her phone on silence and rolled back under the covers. Facing Hunter at work would be impossible and she wouldn’t even consider it today. Maybe tomorrow. Or maybe she could skip the rest of the internship and take a real vacation.

  Facing Uncle Devon would be almost as bad. He couldn’t complain too loudly. Until Saturday night, he didn’t even realize she was working at the firm. And she doubted he’d call her mother. They didn’t get along, hadn’t spoken in years, but he might call just to rile her. Devon had been antagonistic since birth, according to her grandmother.

  Two restless hours of thinking about her family issues just made sleep more impossible. Kerri gave up and threw back the covers. Hopefully, Jase and Sara were on their way to classes or work and she’d have the house to herself.

  The coffee was just finishing its brew when the doorbell chimed. Hoping it was one of Jase’s online purchases arriving, she chose to ignore it while adding cream to her coffee. Caffeine was a must have this morning.

  The chime sounded again, more persistent, most likely from someone leaning on the button. Jase must have ordered something requiring a signature. Kerri shuffled to the door, coffee in hand, and jerked it open.

  “About damn time,” Hunter growled, his eyes sliding down her body, no doubt taking in her disheveled pajamas and what was left of her braid. Kerri tried to shut the door in his face but he strong-armed past her.

  “Hey, I didn’t invite you in,” she grumbled.

  “I didn’t expect you to be a coward,” he continued, striding into the kitchen and pouring his own cup of coffee.

  “I’m not a coward.” Her declaration sounded weak to her own ears. Closing the door, Kerri planted her bottom in the recliner and pulled the chenille blanket across her legs.

  “Really? Why aren’t you at work today?” Hunter made himself at home on the sofa and sipped his coffee.

  “I’m not feeling well,” she mumbled. “I can take a sick day if I need one.”

  “You don’t look sick to me. A little confused, embarrassed maybe, but not sick.”

  “Why should I be embarrassed? I’m a grown woman. I didn’t do anything to embarrass myself.”

  “True. So explain to me why you left yesterday without saying a word. Explain why you didn’t come to work this morning. Explain why you have yet to look me in the eye. Do you have a problem facing me after I shared you with Richard?”

  Not once had Hunter raised his voice in anger, but Kerri couldn’t control hers. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re an arrogant son of a bitch?”

  Hunter laughed. “As a matter of fact, yes, I’ve been called that and a few other names.”

  “Why are you here?” Kerri pulled the blanket closer to her and sipped her coffee. “I don’t want you here.”

  “I want you. I won’t let you run away and hide from me.”

  “And I don’t have a choice?” she asked. “More arrogance.”

  “No. You have a choice. I would never deny you the right to make your own decisions.” His smile gave her a chill, not in a bad way, and her toes curled under the blanket.

  The smile disappeared and his expression sobered. “If I pushed you too far this weekend, I’m sorry.”

  Kerri stared, surprised and heartened at his apology, even though her problem hadn’t been what he thought. She didn’t want to love him, didn’t trust him enough to give him her heart on a platter.

  “I’m fine. You can go back to work now. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Hunter smiled again. “Okay.”

  Kerri almost felt relieved when he stood, but he walked into the kitchen instead of to the door. Cabinets opened and closed, the fridge opened, and she heard mumbling. A few minutes later, she gave up waiting and followed him into her kitchen. The little round table was set for two, pancakes and scrambled eggs were cooking on the stove, and he was pouring juice into two glasses.

  After the last week, she shouldn’t be surprised by anything he did. She kept seeing different sides of his personality, all of them alluring as hell. And somewhere in between, a strong, deeply caring man was hiding.

  He pulled out a chair, his piercing gaze directing her to sit without words. The dominant attitude was a pull she was finding hard to resist and it bugged her to succumb so easily to his body language. But she sat anyway.

  “Talk to me, Kerri. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.”

  He wasn’t looking at her, his attention focused on the food he was preparing, but she knew he was listening, practically feeling her hesitancy float in the air around her. There were so many ways he unnerved her. She didn’t want to reveal her soul to him but knew he’d see it anyway.

  “I’m scared.”

  Shit. She hadn’t meant to say that, to be so bluntly truthful. His damned dominant attitude had seeped right past her defenses.

  “What are you afraid of, sweetheart?” His rich, warm voice washed over her, enticing her to wrap herself around him. Kerri tried to breathe through the feelings and set them aside. Focus.

  “I’m getting lost in this experience. I don’t want to disappear into the lifestyle. I won’t let you control everything that’s who I am.”

  Hunter’s eyes bored into hers, reaching into her soul to comfort, cajole.

  “Kerri.”

  He wanted her to come to him, let him wrap her up in his heat and forget about her reservations, her fear. But she couldn’t let him do that. Standing tall against his expectation of obedience was one of the most difficult things she’d done, harder than walking naked through the gathering room Saturday night.

  She shook her head.

  When he didn’t push, Kerri let her guard down an inch. “I can’t let you control every facet of my life. I’ve been on my own for too long to give you complete control.”

  “Kerri. You don’t seem to understand the lifestyle. You have the ultimate control in this relationship. You can say no to anything I ask and I’ll stop.”

  “And I’ll never see you again.” The catch to this control he offered was ending the relationship. But could she continue to do whatever he said, let him push her further and further down this path, and retain her sanity? The thought of how far he would go, and how far she would let him take her, was mind boggling.

  “Only if that’s what you want. Stop means stop, but it doesn’t mean we stop being involved unless you want to end the relationship.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Kerri, come here.”

  She settled her hands on her hips and waited.

  And waited.

  Finally, he replied. “Yes. When it gets to be too much for you, not because you’re scared, but because it is uncomfortable for you, I’ll stop. Now, come to me.”

  Weighing his words, watching his expression, she let out the breath she was holding and moved into his embrace. Hunter enveloped her, his strong arms chasing away the slivers of fear lurking in her heart. Too many tumultuous emotions were fluttering through her brain to deal with today. Even though she knew she could take care of herself, the temptation of what he offered was enticing. Letting him run her life would be easier than continuing to deal with the everyday minutia. But those details were the stuff of independence.

  Kerri curled into him, enjoying the strength and warmth of his palms as they cruised up and down her back. One hand fiddled with t
he band holding her braid together until it came undone. His hand slid to the base of her skull and worked wicked fingers into her scalp, massaging until the braid relaxed and her hair fell free across her back.

  “There you go, sweetheart. Let me take care of you.”

  The timbre of his voice crept through her libido, sending shards of pleasure skipping across already sensitized nerves. Moisture collected in preparation for his possession, and Kerri fought for some semblance of control. The man didn’t even have to touch her intimately to get a response.

  “Hunter, I think—”

  “Don’t think, Kerri.” His lips slipped over hers, hinting at more to come. “Trust me to know what you want.”

  “I don’t want to be a slave to your every demand.” She’d meant for it to be a demand, but even to her own ears it sounded more like a request. A weak one at that.

  Hunter leaned back and smiled down at her, his hands still working their magic on the nape of her neck. “You want a taste of control, hmm?”

  “Yes. I don’t want to feel like a blow-up doll you position to your liking and play with daily.”

  He chuckled, his hands slipping to her waist. “I would never consider you a blow-up doll. You’re much more interactive, and more vocal.”

  “I’m not kidding, Hunter.”

  He turned back to the stove and turned off the heat. Watching him load the plates gave Kerri a minute to regroup. He was placating her instead of truly listening.

  “Here you go, sweetheart. Eat and you’ll feel better.” He nudged her toward the table, a full plate in one hand and a glass of juice in the other. “Sit, relax.” Hunter placed her plate on the table and sat beside her.

  “This looks delish. Thanks.” She reached for the fork, but he beat her to it. “What—”

  “Open up,” he crooned, the pancake-filled fork dangled from his fingers.

  “I can feed myself,” Kerri watched heat flare in his eyes at her defiance. The expected frown didn’t appear, though. A grin splashed across his face.

  “You like to push, don’t you?” The fork wagged in front of her lips. “Open, Kerri. I’m going to take care of you. Trust me, you’ll learn to appreciate it.”

  Reluctantly, she opened and allowed him to place the fork on her tongue. After a few sensual bites, the intimacy of the act worked its way into her soul. His attention was mesmerizing, his focus on her intense. One bite after another, alternating between her mouth and his, caused a growing heat to pulse in her belly.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered, and she realized his intent.

  Kerri reached up and stopped the fork as it approached her mouth. “I know what you’re doing.”

  “Sweetheart, what do you mean?”

  “You’re shutting me up by keeping my mouth full.”

  Hunter chuckled, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. “Works for me.”

  “Manipulating bastard,” she muttered.

  He had the audacity to give her a full smile. “No, Kerri. Dominating Master is what you should call me.”

  She wanted to shout, curse, kick something, and throw herself on the floor at his feet. Could she be more confused?

  “I don’t want a Master. I want a partner.”

  “If you really believe that’s all you want, I’ll leave you to it.” Hunter leaned in and pressed a warm kiss to her cheek. “Be sure of what you wish for, Kerri.”

  She stared at him for a few minutes, wondering what she truly wanted. The last week was a blur of desire, lust, trust and fear. Reconciling the roiling internal conflict had her thinking and speaking in circles. Saturday night was just the icing on the cake.

  “Saturday night—”

  “Was more than you expected?” Hunter finished.

  She nodded. “Much more.”

  “Were you hurt?” His tone had Kerri melting, and a deep concern wafted through her as his hand came up to sweep tendrils of hair off her forehead. “Or did you enjoy it a little too much?”

  How could he know?

  “It scares me how much I liked it. How I responded.” She sucked in air, trying to calm her heartbeat and get her emotions under control.

  Rubbing his hand up and down her arm, Hunter soothed with action and word. “I’m glad you told me. I should have waited to introduce you to ménage. Maybe if you’d been better prepared, it wouldn’t have frightened you as much.”

  “This”—Kerri swept her hand between them—“has all been too much, too fast. I feel like I’m falling into a rabbit hole and can’t control my life.”

  “Tell me what you need to make you happy with this relationship.”

  Kerri jerked her head up, her eyes going to his expression as she tried to judge his use of the word “relationship.” It was unreadable.

  “Our working relationship?” she asked.

  His lips curved again. “No, our personal relationship.”

  “But I thought I was helping you with the investigation.” It wasn’t what she felt but was the furthest they’d discussed when this started. Kerri wanted to be sure she didn’t make assumptions that would hurt later.

  “You are, but what’s between us changed for me the first time you came to my bed. I was hoping you felt the same way.”

  Finally able to release the air in her lungs, Kerri sighed. “I thought it was my imagination, a product of all the sex.”

  “I’d rather think it was a product of my mastery.” His smile belied his attitude, and her heart tumbled further over the edge.

  She stood and stepped between his knees, wrapping her arms around his neck, for once being the aggressor in their relationship. One dark brow rose well above its natural placement, but he didn’t protest when she softly brushed his mouth with hers. When he didn’t take control of the kiss, she boldly nibbled at his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth and scraping her teeth against the soft tissue. A tortured groan told her he was as affected as she was.

  He was letting her have her way, letting her control their lovemaking, and Kerri wasn’t sure what to do. He’d always led and she had no idea what he liked. How freely would he’d let her experiment?

  Her hands wandered, stroked the hard muscles under his shirt until she found the first button. Peeling it free, she slipped her hand under the fabric and abraded his skin with her nails.

  Another groan encouraged her.

  Kerri slipped a few more buttons free and worked her way down his body. She could feel the tension rising in his tight muscles and in the pronounced bulge in his pants.

  Hunter stayed her, his hands moving to her wrists, and she cried out.

  “Hunter, I—”

  “Where’s your bedroom, pretty girl?”

  His gruff voice gave him away. Kerri turned and grabbed his hand, leading him to her room. Once through the doorway, Kerri shed her robe and sleep clothes, expecting Hunter to follow her lead. But when she turned to him, he stood frozen, his hot gaze consuming her.

  She lifted her face to him as she reached for the button of his slacks, watching his expression while she slid the zipper down and freed his erection. The pleasure in his eyes ricocheted around her system, heightening her need for him. Kerri pressed a moist kiss to his chest and worked her way down his torso one kiss at a time as she lowered her body. When her knees touched the carpet, she took him into her mouth.

  Hunter’s moan coated her body with moisture in all the places that counted. She quivered in need of him, his thrusts into her mouth adding heat to the fire fueling her desire.

  Hunter’s hand wrapped around her nape and held her in place as he pushed to the back of her throat. The feel of his cock on her tongue, hard as a steel rod with a silky cover, sent another burst of moisture sliding over her clit. She could hear his harsh breaths, feel the tension in his thighs as she leaned against them. He eased back and slipped from her mouth.

  Kerri inhaled, taking in as much oxygen as she could while he sat on her bed. When he stretched out with his head on her pillow, she smiled. From her
position on the floor, the profile of his body looked like a great sleeping Indian with a large arrow pointing to the sky.

  She came to her feet, hands itching to touch him, stroke him to pleasure as he’d done for her so many times.

  Chapter 19

  Kerri watched people walk through the room, her eyes following the one person she didn’t want to get too close to. Dear Uncle Devin was sitting in a chair across the room holding court. Couples circled him, the women a respectful step back from their doms, one on the floor in front of him. Devin didn’t have a girl with him, but was obviously offered a few of the women belonging to his worshipers. She couldn’t believe he was held in such esteem, but from what she could see, others were drawn to him.

  She dropped her eyes when his head turned in her direction. Hunter had stepped away to speak to Richard, leaving her a few feet from him but still under his protection. The collar she wore insured no one would bother her, but still she tried to behave as a proper submissive, her scrutiny of Devin aside. And Richard, well, she wasn’t sure what to do about Richard. When he’d greeted her at the door, Kerri glanced up to see deep, sparkling eyes. Hunter hadn’t said anything about a repeat of the ménage and she’d been afraid to bring it up. She hoped he knew she wasn’t ready.

  A harsh voice interrupted her thoughts and she caught herself before looking directly at him. It was McKeon, the man she’d watched the first night Hunter brought her here. He had a woman with him, bound by an intricate set of ropes which kept her hands behind her back and her breasts thrust forward. Kerri averted her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t notice her.

  No such luck.

  “Where’s your master?” he asked, his nails-on-a-chalkboard voice skittering across her skin and raising goose bumps.

  Kerri turned her head toward Richard and Hunter only to find they were no longer a few feet from her. Across the room, Hunter stood facing Richard, his cell to his ear while he spoke and Richard listened. Neither were looking her way, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck tingled and rose to attention. For the first time since her initial introduction to the club, Kerri felt a chill born of fear slide down her spine and settle in her chest.