by Sara Fawkes
Mechanically, Ariel sipped at her drink, her fingers smudging the condensation. It was gin and diet lemon-lime soda—her favorite. But she frowned anyway, just to make her point.
“Did it occur to you that I might want to order my own drink? Maybe I want something else.” She found her eyes tracking the half-naked waitress, who moved with confidence in her fetish wear.
It seemed so much more revealing here than it did at an awards show or in a music video. Maybe because she knew—or at least assumed—that the purpose of Fetish Week was for people to meet and have sex.
“Did you?”
Ariel looked back at Marco and sucked in a breath when she saw those brilliantly blue eyes fastened on her. She shivered under the intensity of his gaze.
“Did you want a different drink?” He repeated the question, and she flushed, since she gathered that he already knew the answer.
“No.” She wasn’t going to ask how he knew what her favorite drink was—she assumed it was the same way he’d known where her reservation was and the same way he’d been able to engineer her arrival at the Mancusi resort instead of Seaside Pleasures.
The same way he’d known she was going to stay. Once up in her suite, she’d contemplated being stubborn and heading to her original accommodations.
Instead, she’d sent an e-mail to Poppy to tell her there’d been a change of plans. She hadn’t made up her mind about Marco yet, but she wasn’t yet ready to say good-bye.
“The kind of man that I am, Ariel . . .” Reaching out, Marco tucked a strand of her golden hair behind her ear, and Ariel felt her pulse skip at the simple gesture.
“. . . it’s my responsibility to know the needs and desires of the woman I’m with.” The fingers that had tucked her hair behind her ear grazed her cheek, and Ariel felt a trail of heat follow in the wake of the touch.
“What does that even mean?” Her voice didn’t sound nearly as sassy as she’d intended it to. She sipped again, hoping that the liquid would ease the sudden dryness of her throat.
“Let’s just say I like to be control.” His lips curled into the faintest whisper of a smile, and Ariel swallowed thickly.
“So do I.” His gaze became too intense as she spoke, and she looked down at her knees. He pressed his finger beneath her chin, tilting her head back up until she had no choice but to look at him.
“I don’t think that you do, Ariel. At least not when it comes to sex.” Ariel felt crimson stain her cheeks at his words.
How did he know, how could he possibly have guessed how much she longed for a man to simply take control in the bedroom?
She was never in a million years going to admit that. Attracted as she was to Marco Kennedy, she didn’t know him at all. The past had taught her to hold her secrets close to her chest, for fear of seeing them splashed across the front of a tabloid the next day.
“I thought we were here to discuss a business proposition.” Pulling back from his touch, Ariel planted her feet on the floor, smoothed the skirt of her dress, and lifted her glass as a way of hiding her flushed cheeks.
Marco Kennedy was far too good at stripping away her reservations, and she—she who had done and seen so many things in her time in Hollywood—wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.
“Very well.” Though a trace of sensuality remained, Marco straightened and, before Ariel’s eyes, became the tycoon that she knew he was. He tapped the side of his briefcase with long fingers that she could only too clearly imagine stroking her skin.
“In here I have a copy of the contract I have sent you on multiple occasions.” Though there was no judgment in his tone, Ariel felt a wave of guilt. She’d led him on quite the chase, and she knew it. She should have just refused his endorsement offer and been done with it rather than leading him on.
“Now, though you don’t seem to want to admit it, I think you’re intrigued by the idea of Fetish Week.” Ariel looked at Marco sharply. How in the hell could he have known that? She was doing her level best to hide her reactions from him. She pressed her lips together tightly and stayed silent, but Marco again tilted her head to look up at him.
“Well?”
She squirmed on the soft cushion. The man didn’t give an inch.
“I’m not totally repulsed by it, okay?” It wasn’t the entire truth . . . if she admitted what she really felt, she’d have to tell him that his threat to spank her had caused heat and moisture to surge between her legs.
No way was she going to give him that satisfaction.
“We’ll work on your honesty at a later date, when we have more time,” Marco said. Ariel furrowed her brow, but Marco continued speaking, not giving her a chance to interject. “I have a bargain to propose to you.” He smiled at her, the slow curve of his lips slow and sensual, and Ariel had a mental image of a wolf stalking its prey.
“All right.” She tried to keep her voice level against the surge of heat and excitement inside her.
How was she supposed to resist someone who made her stubbornness into a game? She certainly wasn’t going to say it aloud, but she liked it.
Still, even though her playful side was roused, she could never have guessed the words that were about to leave the tycoon’s mouth.
“I am a sexual Dominant. What I’ve seen of you tells me that you are very much a sexual submissive. In the next two days, I plan to win your complete submission.”
Ariel had lifted her glass for another drink, and her teeth involuntarily crunched through the ice cube that had slipped between her lips as she stared, dumbfounded, at the sexy and apparently insane man who sat across from her.
“I beg your pardon?” She fought against the waves of desire that swamped her at his words. “I don’t have a submissive bone in my body.”
She didn’t. Right?
What kind of woman was she if she did?
And yet she knew that she’d always longed for a man who would simply take what he wanted from her body rather than making her lead.
“Oh, I think we both know that’s not true. You should be careful when lying to a Dom, Ariel. It can lead to . . . punishment.” He chuckled when her eyes went wide. “At any rate, I challenge you to see if I’m right. If I succeed in winning your voluntary submission in the next two days, then you will sign this contract and become the new face of the Kennedy Garden line of shopping malls. If I do not win it, then I will leave you alone.”
“Hell no.” Ariel cursed inwardly the second the knee-jerk reaction left her lips. She wanted him—there was no way she could deny that, not even to him.
But on these terms?
It wasn’t so much that she was afraid of losing the bargain—she knew that the endorsement deal was a good one.
But she knew that her heart was very much on the line if she let Marco Kennedy into her bed. If he did indeed win her submission—even if they simply indulged in a sizzling affair—where would she be in two days?
“I dare you,” Marco said. She looked at Marco sharply as he spoke. He was grinning, and despite herself, she smiled back.
He had tapped into her playful nature, and she loved it. She had always relished a challenge.
“It sounds like this deal is skewed heavily in your favor,” Ariel said. Deliberately, she crossed one leg over the other, allowing her hemline to ride up again, and she was pleased to see the expression in Marco’s eyes darken. “Clearly, you’ll enjoy the next two days. So what’s in it for me?”
Ariel hissed in a breath when Marco suddenly pressed his palm flat against her chest, right over the place where her heart beat quickly. Her nipples puckered at the touch, and she knew that Marco noticed.
“Oh, I won’t be the only one enjoying the next two days, Ariel, I guarantee that.” He slid his hand over, then trailed one finger down the hollow between her breasts. “If you can handle what I give you—and I will never give you more than you need—you’ll be more fulfilled than you’ve ever been in your lifetime.”
Ariel closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensation
of his fingers playing over her skin. It was just two days . . . how hard could she fall in two days?
When she opened her eyes again, Marco was close enough to kiss her. Though she licked her lips and hoped for the kiss to come, he refrained from pressing their lips together.
She understood then that he was waiting for her to agree, to cede control.
She wanted him, damn it. Why couldn’t she have him?
“All right.” Only after she’d whispered did he brush his mouth over hers, the briefest of kisses. No matter how light the touch, it set her body on fire in a way that she’d never even dreamed of.
Marco eased back as, flustered and aroused, Ariel ran her fingers through the artfully messed waves of her hair. She watched as he pulled casualness around him like a coat.
It was infuriating to see him looking so calm while she was out of sorts and horny as hell.
“So what now?” She glared as Marco had the nerve to wave across the bar to a man who had just poked his head in. The man he was greeting earned a glare as well since he was dressed in what was clearly a designer suit, and because of it, she instantly lumped him in with Marco.
“That’s Luca Mancusi, the owner.” Marco returned his stare to Ariel after Mancusi ran his eyes over her, then smiled rakishly at his friend. “I think you’ll feel more favorable toward him once you see what his resort has to offer.”
Ariel started to retort, but Marco silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips.
“And as for your question . . . we’ll start right now.”
Chapter Three
MARCO FOUND HIMSELF more relieved than he cared to admit as he opened the door of her suite and pressed his fingers to the small of Ariel’s back, urging her into the room ahead of him.
He was a man who was accustomed to getting his own way, but this little minx had given him a few bad moments. It seemed he’d met someone as strong-willed as he was, someone so stubborn she was willing to sacrifice what she really wanted simply to prove her point.
Damned if he didn’t find it sexy. He found her sexy, just all-around sexy. He watched the saucy sway of her hips as she walked into the suite ahead of him, stroked his eyes over the naked skin bared by the low back of her sundress, and felt lust surge.
He had no doubt that the submission of this particular woman would be the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.
Ariel crossed the room and looked out the massive sheet of glass that was the wall of the room. As she studied the breathtaking jewel tones of the Mediterranean Sea, he quietly picked up his toy bag and moved it to the side of the bed. She turned around just as he pulled a small, heavy bag from its depths.
“What’s that?” Now that she’d agreed to his bargain, he couldn’t detect any sense of false protest in her voice. Instead, she sounded curious, and with that curiosity came a hint of anticipation.
It was music to his ears.
“This is the beginning of pleasure for you.” Straightening, he stripped off his suit jacket, loosened his tie, then unbuttoned the top three buttons of his starched shirt. He was gratified to see Ariel’s stare dip to the skin that was exposed.
“We’ll see about that.” He couldn’t help but grin at the challenge in her words. Though he was certain that she was a natural submissive, he appreciated that she wasn’t meek and mild with it.
They could have a lot of fun together. As he studied the mutiny on her face, then the way her eyes dipped when he challenged her, he felt a constriction in his chest.
Could this connection between them be about more than just sex? The little minx affected him like no woman ever had before.
He shook his head to clear it. That was a worry for later. For a start, they would begin with this.
“I want you to strip,” he said.
He swallowed his chuckle as her eyes narrowed at him. He could see the argument in her eyes, but after a long moment in which he calmly held her gaze, she shrugged, crossing her arms at the hem of her dress, then lifting it up and over her head.
She was naked beneath, and his cock surged painfully at the sight of her naked flesh.
“Ariel.” Though her chin was tilted upwards with bravado, he saw the slight tremble through her limbs that told her she wasn’t quite as immune to his scrutiny as she’d like him to believe.
She didn’t need to worry. Her body was lush, a wonderland of curves and ivory skin. Her breasts were full and heavy, their nipples posy pink, and his mouth watered for a taste.
The small, neat triangle of golden hair at the juncture of her thighs glistened, telling him that she was already aroused.
“Beautiful.” She likely wasn’t even aware that she exhaled the breath she’d been holding as he gave her his verbal approval. Oh yes, this woman was submissive, and the fact that she already seemed to seek to please him told him that the connection he felt between them wasn’t one-sided.
She started to step out of her shoes, bright red strappy sandals, but he shook his head, halting the movement.
“Leave the shoes on. And come here.” She was a walking wet dream, rising naked out of the sexy red shoes, and his nerves began to hum with anticipation as she slowly made her way across the room to where he stood by the bed.
Touching her shoulders lightly, he pulled her close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body, could smell the vanilla of her body cream. His erection pulsed, and he winced inwardly. He needed to free his cock soon, before it became painful.
“Now, I believe I mentioned something about a spanking.” Beneath his fingers, Ariel stiffened, then tried to step back, but he slid his hands down her shoulders and over her breasts, catching her nipples in his fingers, and she stilled as he expertly manipulated the rosy points.
“Like hell you’re going to spank me.” But the heat of her words was lost in the moan as he lowered his head and grazed his teeth over one of her nipples.
“It’s going to happen, Ariel.” Taking advantage of her distraction, he seated himself on the bed, pulling her onto his lap at the same time. “And you’re going to enjoy every minute of it.”
She squeaked as he rolled her onto her stomach, her torso resting on the soft, cotton sheets of the bed. The sound was ridiculously cute, he thought as he emptied the heavy velvet bag one-handed, catching the metal spheres in his palm.
“Don’t you dare.” She squirmed on his lap, and Marco hissed in a breath as his cock strained against the fabric of his pants.
“Be a dear and undo my zipper for me, will you, baby?” She hissed and, looking up over her shoulder, bared her teeth at him. He grinned in response. “The more you protest, the longer the spanking will be.”
He watched her blue eyes as they studied his face and saw the truth there. She pursed her lips together as she wiggled backwards, undoing the buckle of his belt, then the snap, then the zipper.
His cock took advantage of the freedom, surging out the top of his briefs. He sighed with relief, smoothing his hand over the curves of Ariel’s ass as he admired its heart shape.
His hips bucked upwards involuntarily as he felt something hot and wet close over the tip.
“No,” he said.
His nerves screamed as he gently removed Ariel’s siren lips from the head of his cock, groaning inwardly as her mouth released him with a wet, sucking sound. “This is about you.”
“You seriously think I’m going to believe that?” Despite her sassy words, Ariel shivered beneath his hands as he stroked his fingers up and over her back, moving her back into the proper position for a spanking again. “This isn’t going to do much for me.”
He smirked, though she couldn’t see it. Oh, she had no idea.
“Why don’t you wait until after to judge that.” Without giving her any warning, Marco dipped his fingers into the soft folds between her legs, urging her thighs to part. He slid first one heavy metal ball into the slickness of her cunt, then the other.
“What the—” Ariel’s words ended on a low moan as Marco sharply tapped
his palm over her labia, causing the balls to rock inside of her. “Oh my God.”
He laughed, and the sound was a bit breathless since she forced friction along the length of his shaft when she jolted. Not yet, he reminded himself. He had to first show her the pleasure that could be brought to her through this kind of relationship before he could consider taking his own.
“These are called Ben Wa balls.” He tapped her again, and she cried out. “You might find this overwhelming. If the sensation becomes too much, I want you to say red. Okay? That’s your safe word.”
Marco held still, his hand splayed over Ariel’s bottom to hold the balls inside of her motionless. As the onslaught of pleasure eased, she looked over her shoulder at him and glared.
“You bastard.” Her color was up, he noted, and her eyes shot blue fire. She was aroused and mad as hell about it.
“Anytime you want to stop, you can use that safe word,” he told her, his voice mild. “Go right ahead.”
Her eyes flicked away from him, and he resisted the urge to smirk. He had a feeling she’d claw at his eyes with those pretty pink fingernails if he did.
But she didn’t use the safe word, instead dropping her head. She cradled it in her arms and moaned.
“What the hell is wrong with me?”
Marco listened to Ariel speak with grim determination. He knew where her feelings came from—anyone considering a BDSM lifestyle had them. But he wouldn’t tolerate her thinking that she was deviant. And that, Marco thought, was as good an intro as any. Raising his hand, he administered a sharp spank that landed solidly across the tender skin where her thighs met her bottom.
She yelped, jolting in his lap.
“Wanting this, enjoying this, does not mean that anything is wrong with you.” Before she could stiffen, he gave her two more sharp taps, one on each of the round cheeks. The flesh jiggled, and his cock pulsed uncomfortably.
