Cherished: A Masters and Mercenaries Novella

by Lexi Blake

  “Your way or the highway, huh?” That rankled a bit.

  “No. If you aren’t ready for affection, then I need to say goodnight and go take a cold shower. I’m uncomfortable. If you were uncomfortable in a physical fashion, I would want to take care of you or make it so you could take care of yourself.” He stood up and she saw his problem. He had a very large bulge in his jeans.

  Really large.

  Like epic.

  “Wow.”

  He shrugged. “Yes, it’s getting to be obnoxious. I’ll see you tomorrow. Perhaps we could have coffee? I have to attend a seminar all afternoon, but my morning is free.”

  What was she doing? She scrambled to get to her feet as well, feeling weird and awkward but suddenly pretty damn certain she would be making a mistake if she let him show her the door.

  He was giving her an out, but she didn’t want to take it. She wanted…damn it, she wanted him and she wanted to know what it felt like to really want a man for the first time in her life.

  “I had sex because I thought it would get me love. I did it because it was expected in a relationship. I did it because I thought it made me normal and then I turned right around and wrote about the things I wanted in books.”

  “Did you tell your partners what you wanted?” Will asked.

  She laughed at the thought. “Do you know how hard that is? It’s one thing to write about it. Hell, I haven’t written much D/s anyway. I wrote ménage and I wrote about men who seemed to almost magically get what their partners wanted because that was my fantasy.”

  “I can’t read your mind. No man can. I know it seems like we’re idiots, but we don’t communicate the same way. We don’t react the same way. Even the best meaning man can seem like an insensitive clod if he doesn’t understand what you want.”

  She’d known her share of clods. “It’s hard to talk about it.”

  “It’s easier when you’re comfortable with the man. When you’re comfortable with me, you’ll talk.”

  She shook her head. “But I won’t let myself get comfortable with you. Not unless I take the plunge. Can I sit on that thing or will it hurt you?”

  “That thing is my penis. It doesn’t like being called ‘that thing.’” He was awfully cute when offended.

  “Does he have a name he does like?” She could come up with a few. Big Boy. Will’s Willy. Wonder Willy. Really, she was showing restraint by just grinning inanely.

  He sank back into his chair and gave her a shake of his head. “No. I was never one to name my body parts, and go easy on me, but yes, I would love for you to sit here with me.”

  She’d never sat in a man’s lap. She’d had sex, but never simply sat and talked, and suddenly that seemed like a bad thing. Benjy hadn’t been big on talking. He’d been big on hopping on top of her, getting off, and then rolling over to go to sleep. When she’d complained, he’d told her she was reading too much of her own work and she shouldn’t have such high expectations of a man.

  She eased herself onto Will’s lap, allowing him to draw her down. Her whole body reacted to the fact that there was a hard cock right under her butt. It was right there and she couldn’t help but wiggle to get comfortable.

  Will tensed. “Don’t.”

  She stilled in his arms. “I’m sorry. Did that hurt?”

  His lips curled up. “It felt far too good, sweetheart, and I really don’t want to come in my jeans. Now that I have you here, I have the slightest hope that I might get you into bed, so I’m saving it up.”

  She wasn’t sure why, but that practically made her glow. “You’re sure of yourself.”

  “Nope. That’s why I said slightest,” Will admitted. “I’m hopeful. Now tell me what you want out of sex. What didn’t work with your previous lovers? You said you’ve never been in a D/s relationship. Did you try at all? Being submissive I mean?”

  “I think I’m always somewhat submissive in bed. That might be part of the problem.”

  “It isn’t if your partner understands and knows how to control the situation.” His hand was on her leg and she couldn’t help but look down at it. Big hands. Strong hands. He used those hands to heal people. What would they feel like on her skin? “You control this, Bridget. If you don’t like where my hands are, I’ll move them. But I can’t know unless you tell me.”

  “I like them.” Perhaps some bravery was called for. “I wasn’t thinking about moving them. I was thinking about how they would feel on my bare skin.”

  He moved his hand up and under her blouse, not too high. He stayed on her waist, but she could feel the heat flowing from him to her. “Relax. This only goes as far as you want it. I want you to want me, Bridget, and not because you’re looking for a husband. Not because you think giving yourself to me in bed will manipulate me into doing something.”

  She stiffened. “I wasn’t trying to manipulate them.”

  “You wanted them to love you. You should know from the get-go that I don’t believe in love. Going to bed with me isn’t going to get you some romantic drivel from me.”

  A little of the glow faded. “Fine. You’re the one who seems so transactional. What does it buy me?”

  “Besides pleasure?”

  “I might get that and I might not.” History taught her sexual pleasure wasn’t worth much.

  “I will grant you your skepticism. All right. Going to bed with me buys you my loyalty and commitment for the duration of the contract, and if we end up discovering we enjoy the relationship, then we can renegotiate the contract. I won’t sleep around. I won’t cheat and I will do my very best to be a good partner to you.”

  It wasn’t romantic. He kind of sucked at that part and she couldn’t deny that there was a piece of her that deeply wanted the romantic aspect of a relationship. She wrote romances for a living, but the truth was it was the best offer she’d had in forever. Maybe ever. At least it was honest. “I won’t cheat and I’ll do my best to be a good partner to you.”

  His hand tightened on her waist and he sighed as though relieved. “Good. Then come here and kiss me. We’ll go slow, but you have to talk to me. You have to tell me what you like and what doesn’t feel good. There might be times that I ask you to give something a couple of minutes because it takes a while to get used to the sensation, but you’re always in control.”

  Because he was in control. That was the way it was between a man and woman. It was a primitive thing. He was bigger and stronger and could take what he wanted, but he was in control of those urges in a way none of her previous lovers had been. They hadn’t controlled themselves long enough for her to come to real pleasure.

  “Tell me what you like.” His hand came to the nape of her neck, drawing her mouth to his.

  “I like my vibrator.” They were so close that their noses touched, a sweet sensation. “It’s been my main lover for the last year or so.”

  “You like a vibe, huh?” He chuckled, and she felt it on her skin as he kissed the bridge of her nose. “I might like to watch you fuck that vibrator. I might like to watch you fuck in and out of your pussy with it.”

  “Oh, I like the dirty talk,” she admitted because he would find that out soon enough.

  “Good because I definitely like to talk dirty. Tell me something, sweetheart. Is your pussy getting wet?” His lips touched hers, just a caress, a brushing of flesh. “Do you think your little pussy is getting ready for me?”

  This was so serious because the answer was yes. She was going to start an affair with a man who didn’t even believe in love, but there was no going back. She was an adult and her eyes were wide open. Well, they were actually half closed in a kind of aroused daze, but she knew what she was doing. She was going to sleep with Will Daley. “Yes, Sir.”

  His hips shifted up. “Yeah, that does something for me.” His cock was pressed against her backside, his hips moving. “I like the way you say ‘Sir.’ And I definitely like the way you feel in my arms. Has anyone told you how soft you are, Bridget?”

  She wa
nted to snort and laugh, but he’d caught her and she was somehow under a spell where she forgot to be dismissive and was forced to think about her next words. “No. I don’t think I’m soft. I’m hard. I’m a little jagged if you want to know the truth, and I worry I cut people up when I don’t really mean to.”

  His hand closed on her breast. “You are soft. You were born that way, but someone taught you it wasn’t okay. I want you to be soft with me. I want you to feel safe enough to be soft around me.”

  His mouth closed over hers and she let her arms drift around, completely willing to give over to him for the moment.

  Chapter Five

  Will was going to go insane. Bridget Slaten was going to drive him out of his ever-loving mind if she wiggled that hot ass of hers over his cock again. He pressed his lips to hers and groaned when she opened for him, allowing his tongue to slide against hers in a silky brush.

  She tasted like cherries. His brain knew it was likely her lip balm, but he was fairly sure the smell and taste of cherries would always be associated with kissing her, with sliding his hands over her body and finally getting close.

  She moved against him, her breasts pressing to his chest as she twisted and turned to allow him access. How could she think she was jagged? Oh, she put on a good show, but he was starting to think it was all an act to cover how soft and sweet she was on the inside.

  Their tongues played as he got a feel for her breast. A truly spectacular thing. Real and big and so fucking soft. Softness—that was what he wanted, what he’d been looking for in her. She seemed so brazen on the outside, but he was discovering the sub within, and it did something to him. What if he could take this hellcat and make her purr for him and him alone? He’d always thought he wanted a purely submissive woman, but now he saw the advantages. He wouldn’t have to worry about Bridget. She wouldn’t let herself be taken for granted. She would likely whack him upside the head if he got too lost in work.

  She could be a real partner if he let her.

  Was that what he wanted?

  He let the thought go because they didn’t need anything heavy. Not now. For now they needed to enjoy each other, to find out if they could potentially work.

  “I want to see you.” He whispered the words against her lips. He could likely have started to ease the clothes off her, but that was too easy. He wanted her to be active. It seemed too much of her sex life had consisted of things that had been done to her. He wanted her with him, not waiting to see what he would do. “Take your clothes off for me.”

  It was a calculated risk. Despite his belief that she’d likely had a lot of experience, she seemed shy. It could be an act or his instincts could be off. It wouldn’t be the first time, but whatever the issue was, he didn’t want to lose her. He’d given her an out and if she walked away now he might howl his frustration.

  She stopped and he watched as she bit her bottom lip and seemed to come to a decision. She got off his lap, and he hated the loss of her weight, her warmth. She felt right to him in a way other women hadn’t. The women he’d dated during college and med school had been all about scratching an itch—for both of them. He’d carefully selected women as ambitious as he was, who wanted no ties. After a few years of his residency, he’d met a friend who took him to a club and he’d figured out why none of his relationships filled his soul. He needed some form of D/s to feel complete.

  He’d tried with Starr but even when she curled into his arms, he’d felt the distance between them. He’d thought he could break down her barriers, not understanding the real problems.

  Bridget thought she had walls, but the minute she was in his arms, she flowered open for him like a plant in need of sunshine.

  He sat back, readjusting his cock as he waited for her.

  “I know you don’t want to hear about…” she began.

  On this he wouldn’t move. “You say one thing about your body other than here it is for you, Sir, and I’ll show you what my discipline feels like.”

  She frowned, but even that was cute on her. “Fine, but I would have warned you.”

  Almost defiantly, she pulled her shirt over her head and quickly had her bra undone. Her breasts bounced free and she went to work on her jeans. She shoved those off and got rid of her panties, too. She put her arms out to her sides. “Here it is for you, Sir.”

  Such a bitch. He was surprised to find he didn’t mind it.

  He stared at her for a moment, taking her in. There was no way to miss the surgical scar on her abdomen and he wondered if that was one of the things she’d been planning on warning him about. His first instinct was to study it because it told a tale. She’d either been in an accident of some kind or someone had tried to hurt her. She’d likely lost her spleen. Not serious? That was pretty damn serious. But he was going to let it go for now. He was going to focus on all the beauty in front of him and not something that would likely remind her of a bad time.

  She was scared he would reject her and so she put up a front. Some Doms would spank her, but he had other plans. A spanking would just get her hot, and he actually wanted to teach her something.

  “Touch your breasts. Hold them up for me.”

  She frowned as though that was the last thing she’d expected to hear from him. “Because they practically hit the floor?”

  Or he could throw a spanking in, too. “I’m giving you one last warning and then it’s ten for every nasty word that comes out of your mouth about yourself. Hold them up for me because they’re like ripe fruit and I want you to offer them to me. Did my erection wilt at the sight of your body? Did I faint dead away and beg out of the contract? Or did my mouth water the minute I laid eyes on those tits?”

  “I’m guessing it was the mouth watering thingee.”

  “See, I knew you were smart, sweetheart.”

  Slowly her hands came up and all the defiance seemed to have fled. She turned the loveliest shade of pink, as though she’d finally realized she was naked in front of him and he was enjoying the view.

  “You have the prettiest nipples,” he said, watching her. “I’m going to suck on them soon.” There was no way he could miss the flush that covered her skin. She liked the idea. “Is that what you want? Do you want me to suck on your nipples? I’ll lick them and nibble on them and make sure they’re round and hard by the time I’m done.”

  “Can I quote you on that?”

  The last thing he wanted was to get turned into a hero for one of her books, but as long as she kept it to sex, he didn’t see a problem with it. “Sure. Do you often quote your lovers in your books?”

  The thought made him uneasy, but he tried to let it go. The idea of Bridget fucking to get material kind of made him want to lose his damn mind, but he didn’t have a right to judge.

  The brat was back. Her chocolate eyes rolled. “Uhm, I think Benjy’s version of dirty talk was ‘do you wanna fuck, babe?’ That was about it. Not a lot of conversation there.”

  And yet she’d stayed with him for years. “Come back to my lap now.”

  She nearly stumbled in her haste to move. Yeah, that did something for him, too. He was self-aware enough to know that Bridget’s desire for him soothed his aching ego.

  She stopped before him and a grimace swept across her face. “I’m a little messy.”

  That got him to sit up. He’d been joking about her pussy being wet. He’d barely touched her. He’d expected to do much more before he got her all ripe and ready to fuck. She started to take a step back. He reached out and caught her waist, stopping her. “Don’t move.”

  He leaned over and took a deep breath. Fuck. She wasn’t kidding. He could smell her arousal, and it did all sorts of things to his cock. The bastard was practically thumping against his jeans, trying to get out. He’d let his dick make the decision to sign the contract with Bridget, but it was going to have to be patient because he intended to seal this particular deal in his own way. He was going to bring her as much pleasure as he could, to show her what it would mean to be his
sub.

  “You smell good. Perfect.” He put his nose right in the middle of her labia, rubbing it in so he wouldn’t lose her scent. She responded so fucking fast. He’d never had a woman get so damn wet from as little as a kiss and some dirty talk.

  “You’re a doctor. Isn’t that a bit unhygienic. I mean, I write about it and stuff because…oh, god, that feels good…but isn’t it…doesn’t it bother you?”

  It didn’t bother him at all. It fucking turned him on. Insanely. He suddenly couldn’t wait to taste her. “This is a perfectly beautiful and normal pussy. You have my word on it. In my expert opinion, this is the most perfect pussy I’ve ever seen.”

  He licked her, reveling in the taste of her arousal. He sucked on one side of her labia and then the other. Licking and sucking her like she was the ripest piece of fruit he’d ever tasted.

  “Oh, my god.” Bridget’s hands came down on his shoulders as though she needed some balance to stay upright. Her breath came out in little pants. “I’m taking that with a grain of salt, Doc. You’re a brain guy not an obstetrician.”

  But suddenly brains had nothing on the piece of anatomy in front of him. He gave her a long lick, parting her and finding the pearly nub of her clitoris. Her brain would process the pleasure, nerve endings sending messages along her spine, but it would all start with that button. “Spread your legs, Bridget.”

  For once she didn’t argue with him. She moved, spreading her legs and finding a wider stance. He pulled back the hood and completely exposed her clit.

  His cock wasn’t going to wait much longer. If he played with her for too long, he would likely come in his jeans and he didn’t want that. He wanted to be buried deep inside her. He had to give her what she needed so he could find his own satisfaction.

  “Do you like this?” He used one hand to hold back the hood of her clit and the other to explore her pussy. With a single finger, he started to gently fuck her as he blew on her clit, letting her feel the heat of his mouth.

  “Yes, oh god, yes.” Her legs were trembling, but she held strong.