by Desiree Holt
She stared at him, face flushed with passion, bewildered. “What—?”
“Ssh.” He positioned himself between her thighs, let out a breath and drove into her with one, swift movement. “Later. We can play more later.”
When she opened her mouth to say something else, he simply took it in a scorching kiss, licking her lips then thrusting his tongue inside to taste every surface. Her small, delicate tongue dueled with his in an erotic dance, sensation reaching every part of his body. As he swirled and tasted again and again, the rhythm increasing in tempo, he felt as if he were absorbing every part of this woman into his body.
He couldn’t hang on to his control this time. Not when everything was suddenly so crystal clear to him. This was his present and his future, more than he’d ever expected from life. He slipped a hand between them, found her clit and massaged it with rapid strokes. They exploded together, the orgasm so intense it shook them. Everything else faded except the sensation and the feel of emptying himself into her body.
When the aftershocks subsided at last and she lay there, flushed, heart beating rapidly against his own, he smiled at her.
“I love you.”
She grinned. “You told me. I love you too.”
“Marry me. Now. Before I have to leave again.” What if she said no? What if she wanted more time?
She wrinkled her forehead. “Slade? I don’t understand. You’ve had so many reservations. I know you love me, but don’t you need more time to sort everything out?”
“It’s sorted. I could have lost you today if Glasgow had gotten it into his head to dispose of you. It scared the shit out of me. Nothing is worse than my fear of being without you. We can work out the rest of the details as we go along.”
She blinked. “You’ll shock the hell out of your men.”
“Good,” he told her. “Maybe it will give them ideas.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t necessarily count on that, but we’ll see.” Then she sobered and such love bloomed in her eyes it humbled him. “Okay. Yes. I’ll marry you.”
“When?” he pushed.
“Whenever you want. We can get the license tomorrow if you like.”
“I like and I want. Good. It’s settled.” He brushed his lips over hers. “And you know? It will be nice having you to come home to. Damn nice.”
Epilogue
Kari Malone and Lt. Col. Slade Donovan were united in marriage on Sunday afternoon at the groom’s ranch just south of San Antonio. Officiating was a friend of the groom, Colonel Paul Hutton, Army JAG officer. Sasha Crew and Sgt. Trey McIntyre served as honor attendants. The couple will make the ranch their primary residence but will continue to maintain an apartment in the city where the bride is a highly regarded assistant district attorney.
They spent their wedding night at a resort in Hill Country, just outside San Antonio, before leaving for their honeymoon to Hawaii the next day.
“I don’t want to spend my wedding night traveling,” Slade had insisted.
Now they sat at a table set for two on the balcony of the lavish suite Slade had reserved. The view was magnificent, rolling green pastures bathed in sunlight, a soft breeze whispering through the leaves on the trees.
“I’m going to have this laminated and frame it.” Kari had the San Antonio Express-News newspaper that had been delivered along with their breakfast tray that morning on the table next to her, folded to their wedding announcement where she could keep looking at it. “Maybe I should also have it tattooed on your chest to warn off any other woman.”
Slade chuckled. “I don’t think you have to worry on that score, darlin’. There’s not a woman in the world who could interest me anymore besides you.”
She set the paper aside and picked up her coffee cup. “I was glad your team members all brought someone to the wedding. It looks like we have some budding relationships.”
“Hoorah to that,” Slade agreed. “Megan certainly gives Beau more than he can handle. I never thought he’d stick to one woman for more than a week. It does my old heart good to see it.”
“She hinted at a big story she’s working on that hits all professional athletics. Sounds exciting.”
Slade nodded. “She has to do some traveling in the next few days and Beau is going with her.”
“And Trey with a corporate attorney?” She grinned. “They just seem so opposite.”
“Not much different than you and me, darlin’.” Slade lifted her free hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles.
“The biggest surprise was Marc,” Kari mused.
He nodded. “I’m glad to see he’s come out of the shadows, but I worried what kind of woman he’d hook up with.”
“Christy seems very nice. Shy and quiet, and probably exactly what he needs. He certainly was solicitous of her.”
Slade nodded. “There’s definitely something good going on there. It’ll be interesting to see where they all are when we get back.” He pushed back from the table. “Speaking of getting back, we need to get crackin’. The airport limo will be here before long.”
“Okay.” Kari finished her last sip of coffee then rose. “Fine. I’m nearly all ready, anyway.”
Slade pulled her into his arms. “I love you, Kari. You’ve become so much a part of my life I can’t imagine it without you.” He brushed a stray hair back from her forehead. “I want you to try not to worry while I’m gone. You know I’ll text and Skype every chance I get.”
“I’ll worry,” she told him, “but I trust you to come home safe and sound.”
“Count on it,” he told her.
He took her mouth in a scorching kiss, a promise of their life together and their future.
Also available from Totally Bound Publishing:
Made for Him
Desiree Holt
Excerpt
Chapter One
I’m not making a mistake. This is the chance of a lifetime. Everything will be fine.
Teri Choate locked her fingers together in her lap, watching through the helicopter window as the Friday afternoon sun lit the waters of the Atlantic Ocean below her. A representative of Micah Sheridan’s had arrived at her condo in San Antonio at noon to take her to the private airstrip where the Sheridan Worldwide helo awaited her. Now, as they got closer and closer to his private island off the coast of Maine, as the weekend loomed before her, she forced back the case of nerves that kept trying to take over her body. This weekend was a test, for both her and Micah Sheridan. He wanted to push her, to see if she could fully match his needs as a Dom. What would he ask her to do that would show him she trusted him completely?
She wanted desperately to unlock his heart, because she’d had the misfortune to fall in love with the man and that was a disaster in the making. Could she submit to him as completely as he demanded, no matter what level he took her to? And could he finally unlock the shackles he kept around his emotions to make their relationship emotional as well as physical? Commit to something long term?
She had struggled for so long with the clash between her submissive nature and her strong personality. It had been a big step for her, even before she’d met Micah, to blend those two parts of her. Two sides of the same coin. The result had been some less than satisfactory relationships, leaving her to constrain her sexual activities to impersonal sessions at The Castle, the private bondage club she belonged to. It never ceased to amaze her that while she ran an executive employment agency that served clients everywhere, making decisions that involved power and money, once she took off her clothes she turned into someone else. She was sure that was the reason she’d never been able to build a lasting relationship.
Until Micah Sheridan. The man she knew could take control without controlling her.
At thirty-eight he had amassed a global fortune and was both respected and feared in business communities all over the world. The world saw him as a man in elegantly tailored clothing with a sharp business mind and a ruthless attitude, yet still playing with all the toys a man of his
wealth accumulated.
She’d done her homework on him. She was aware that this home she was on her way to was only one of many. He had a villa in Cannes, one in Acapulco, a condo in Hong Kong and a chalet in Switzerland. He raced cars for fun, skied both the Alps and the Andes, kept fully outfitted yachts at each of his villas, and never carried a suitcase because every one of his homes was outfitted with his needs.
But Teri knew he was also a man of wild, untamed sexual passion whose skills as a Dom were beyond anything she’d ever dreamed. He’d never been seen with the same woman twice. They were sleek and elegant and came from every country where he had offices or did business. Those who lived the BDSM lifestyle easily spotted the submissive nature of the women and secretly whispered about what went on behind Micah’s bedroom door.
He had never shared personal information, with her or anyone else. To the world at large he was an enigma, but Teri sensed a man who hid a troubled past behind the veneer of a self-made billionaire who had the world at his fingertips. Falling for him was a huge mistake but she had known after they’d been together only three times that he was the one for her. The Dom to give her life to. She just had to convince him.
He had spent more time with her than any other woman in the past several months. In the beginning it was all business, but like called to like, and they had sensed the true nature of each other. The first weekend they’d spent at his condo in town had been like dipping a toe in water to test the temperature. Would she jump away or fully immerse herself? What did they like and what did they want? Aware of his reputation, she’d expected each time to be her last. But now months had gone by, and, although there were weeks they didn’t see each other, she also knew he wasn’t with any other women. And that in and of itself filled her with hope.
When he had invited her to his island, it was understood that he would take her to new levels of play. That this would be a test to see if she matched his desires completely yet understood the mechanics of power exchange. He’d promised nothing in return, but the hint of something had been there in his tone and his expression.
Teri shivered with anticipation at the thought of what might be awaiting her. What would he ask first? How would he treat her? How would she respond?
Their entire relationship had turned her world upside down, coming out of nowhere. Dinners that were like the beginning steps of a sexual dance had turned into nights of increasingly intense BDSM play. She had sensed after a few meetings that Micah had his own demons he was fighting but he, of course, never mentioned them, and she never dared to question him. Nobody questioned Micah Sheridan about anything.
Now Micah had sent one of his helicopters to bring her to his private island. The place where he hid from the world. The place barely whispered about internationally. The place where no woman ever visited more than once. Would she end up on that list or would this weekend turn into what he’d hinted at and what she hoped for?
She hoped this weekend they could finally bring everything out into the open. That she could convince him she was made for him. If so, they would have something to build on…or they’d be finished.
Just thinking of the last time she’d been with him made the pulse in her cunt throb and her nipples harden painfully. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling the slickness of her juices already dampening her skin, and hoped the scent of her musk didn’t reach the pilot.
She looked down through the window of the helicopter at the magnificent raw beauty of this part of Maine. Whitecaps riffled across the wind-whipped surface of the Atlantic Ocean, and birds wheeled and flew gracefully over the water then back into the thick stands of pine trees. As they came in over the tops of those tall pines she could see the magnificent house of glass and stone rising from the bluff. Beds of wildflowers in riotous colour had been planted around the house, and two ancillary buildings stood off to the side. In front of them was the paved circle of a helipad.
“We’re getting ready to land, Miss Choate.” The pilot’s voice came through loud and clear in her headphones.
“Thank you.”
As they circled a door opened at the side of the house and Micah stepped out into the clearing. His lean form was clad in jeans that she was sure cost as much as the helicopter and a dark green sweater that probably matched the colour of his eyes. The wind disturbed his thick shock of dark brown hair, giving him a raw, sexy look. He definitely matched his setting.
She shivered again as she remembered the things his hands could do to her, punishing and soothing at the same time. The intensity of the bondage play and the attentive aftercare. Already hunger was building inside her.
The pilot set the helo down precisely in the centre of the pad, and Micah came forward to open the cabin door and help her out.
“Welcome to Maine.” The deep timbre of his voice set her pulse to racing. “I’m looking forward to the weekend.”
“Yes.” She wet her lips. “Me, too.”
Micah waved at the pilot as he lifted off.
“So.” His eyes burned with lust and hunger although his face was expressionless. “Are you committed to whatever this weekend brings?”
“Yes.” They had not yet slipped into their roles so she looked him full in the face. “I am. Completely.”
“Then let’s begin.” He guided her towards the house with his hand at her elbow. “I see you obeyed my instructions regarding luggage.”
“You said you’d provide whatever I needed,” she reminded him. She wondered what the pilot had thought when she had shown up with no luggage. Then she shrugged it off, figuring by this time nothing could pique that man’s curiosity.
“And I will. Everything.”
He ushered her into the house, his hand on her back red-hot even through her silk sweater and light jacket. She stopped just inside and tried not to stare. The place stole her breath, with windows that soared from the polished wood floors to the two-storey ceiling. A fire already roared and crackled in a massive stone fireplace and comfortable leather furniture was scattered around the huge room.
“This is beautiful.” She stared at the large, magnificent room.
“So are you.” He brushed her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. “Very beautiful.”
That was the last soft thing he said to her. He straightened and when she looked at him the Dom had taken over completely. He took her purse from her unresisting hands.
“Remove your clothing and leave it on this chair.” He pointed to a small one by the door. “You may retrieve your things when it’s time to leave.”
“Now?” Stupid. Of course he meant now.
He simply stood there, hands in his pockets, watching and waiting.
Teri slid her arms from her jacket, folded it neatly and placed it on the chair. Taking the hem of her sweater, she tugged it over her head and placed it with the jacket. The rest of her clothing followed, her shoes placed neatly beneath the chair. She stood naked before him, hands folded in front of her, head bowed, eyes downcast.
She knew he was visually taking in every inch of her as he always did. Was he pleased that she’d waxed her pussy completely instead of leaving the two thin strips of curls as she usually did? He’d ordered her to leave the skin completely bare for this weekend. She hoped he was pleased that she’d done so.
Now he tipped her chin up with two fingers.
“Very good.” He smiled and with his other hand he pulled a fine strip of leather from his pocket.
A collar! Was he already leaning towards something permanent? But his next words disabused her of that notion.
“While you are here,” he said as he fastened the collar around her throat, “this is all you will wear. I have central heating as well as the fireplace, so if you are the least bit cold tell me at once.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
And there they were, back in the familiar roles.
Micah took his time studying her in her nudity. Not that there was anything new for him to see, but something felt differen
t today.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered.
She moved her feet apart to allow him access to her. He moved fractionally closer and slid one hand between her thighs. Her breathing hitched at the contact, sending a sensual wave blasting through her. Every touch made her feel his possession, his sense of ownership of her. She reminded herself, as she forced herself to stand still, that this weekend she wanted him to accept ownership of her heart, as well.
“You may raise your eyes to look at me,” he said.
She watched him lift his hand to his mouth and carefully lick his fingers, her pulse racing in anticipation of what was to happen.
“Wet already. You know that pleases me.” He closed his eyes briefly. “And you taste and smell so delightful. All right, then. Follow me.”
Trembling again, she followed him through the massive open space that was the central part of the house. She looked around as quickly as she could and was struck by the same absence of any personal photos or mementoes as in his condo. She was still puzzling about it when Micah opened a heavy wooden door near the fireplace and motioned for her to follow him. Inside the room she pulled up short, awestruck by what she saw.
Here, in this isolated portion of Maine, Micah Sheridan had built himself a dungeon where every fantasy could be played out. The floor was covered in a thick carpet she could curl her toes into, while the walls were made of the same wood as the floor in the great room. And everywhere she looked were reminders that cost was not a problem to Micah Sheridan. An elaborate St Andrew’s cross stood in one corner. In another a stock and pillory was set up, where a sub could have her neck, wrists and ankles restrained. A spanking bench. Manacles that dropped on chains from the ceiling. Racks holding an array of whips and paddles. Even a cat-o’-nine-tails. And a cabinet that she was sure held whatever a Dom could need to use on his sub.
