On Her Terms (Premiere Companions Book 2)

by Doris O'Connor

  There was no need to ask who he meant by him. Not with the intonation he put on that, and she buried in closer, not wishing this moment to end, yet knowing it would. Her growling stomach put an end to their intimate cocoon much sooner than she would have liked. Sir’s chest moved in silent amusement before he let her go and cupped her chin to make her look up at him.

  Amusement danced in his eyes, which turned to a flash of heated lust when his gaze dropped to the mark on her neck.

  Nicole shivered at the intensity behind that look, made ten times more potent by him releasing his hold on her chin and tracing the bite marks with his fingertips.

  “I shouldn’t have done that, but I’m not sorry I did.”

  His voice dropped an octave, and her stomach dropped right along with it as she held her breath at his careful exploration.

  “Does it hurt?” he asked. Something like relief flashed across his face when she shook her head.

  “Good, let’s eat something. I’ve worked up quite an appetite, and I know you’re hungry, so…”

  Nicole fought the embarrassment threatening to turn her the color of beetroot once again, and lost. Trying not to blush only ever resulted in making it ten times worse, and she dropped her head to hide behind her tangled hair, as she pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. She couldn’t quite help her wince, and Jamie stopped mid piling of food dishes onto the plates.

  “Still sore?” he asked and when she didn’t answer him, pulled her hair away from her face to study her.

  She couldn’t not respond to the silent enquiry in his darkening gaze, so she murmured her response.

  “A little, that’s all.”

  Again that heat in her cheeks threatened to overwhelm her, and she breathed a sigh of relief when he shifted his attention from her to the food.

  “Guess that’s sex off the menu for you then.”

  “Oh.”

  He laughed at her when she couldn’t help but voice her disappointment, and irritation made her bold.

  “I’m not that sore, besides, I’m owed a spanking and anal sex, I seem to recall, Sir.”

  The lid he’d just lifted off the marinated chicken slipped from his hand and fell to the floor. A somewhat awkward pause followed, during which Jamie reached under the table to presumably adjust himself, and she couldn’t help but grin. It did her the world of good to know that she wasn’t the only one feeling the sexual pull between them. After all, if a man as experienced as Sir felt it … well … she wasn’t sure where she was going with that, other than to feel a little smug. A feeling that dissipated rapidly when Sir nodded at the food in front of them.

  “That comment, my naughty girl, has just earned you one hell of a spanking, and I shall only be happy to claim your ass once it’s red raw from my hands.” He paused to seemingly let his words sink in, and then poured her a glass of the champagne, which she belatedly noticed was sitting in its bucket of ice on a little stand next to them.

  He filled his own flute and then handed her hers with a smirk.

  “Cat got your tongue now, bellissima?”

  His grin deepened when she shook her head, and taking his cue lifted her flute. She had to hold it with both hands to steady it, because the champagne was in danger of sloshing over the sides. When she eventually managed it, and looked up her heart stopped. That look, right there, before he masked it, had been so tender, it had to mean something.

  Sir cleared his throat and clinked his flute to hers.

  “To the spanking of my sassy subbie. May you waddle down that aisle on Saturday and remember me.”

  Nicole coughed as her sip of champagne went down the wrong way, and Sir, too, looked almost shocked at what he’d just said, before he shrugged, downed the flute in one go, and then refilled his glass. Nicole followed suit, seeking refuge in the fruity aroma of the sparkling wine as it slid down her throat and warmed her insides.

  Neither one of them said anything for a while, as they ate their fill, until Nicole couldn’t stand the heavy silence anymore.

  “I thought we weren’t going to talk about my wedding,” she said.

  Sir’s hold on his cutlery grew white knuckled before he put the utensils down with exaggerated care, picked up his serviette, wiped his mouth, and threw the napkin on the plate.

  “We’re not. I don’t know why I said that.” He flicked a glance her way, and sighed. “Sod it, yes, I do know why. I find myself harboring some very possessive thoughts toward you, bellissima.” He put his hand up to forestall anything she might have said and smiled. “I know, I have no rights whatsoever to feel like that, but in the interests of honesty, I had to say it.” He paused, ran a hand through his hair, and offered her a tight smile, which didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Also, as you asked me this earlier, I’m forty-two. Same age as your fiancé, as I mentioned. In your eyes, far too old for you, no doubt, though I hope, not fat and ugly.”

  He winked at her as he said that, clearly in an effort to make light of what he’d just said, and she might have believed him had it not been for that telltale tic in his jaw, and the way he grabbed hold of the previously abandoned napkin and crushed it in his white knuckled fist.

  Nicole didn’t know what to say, so she laughed. A slightly hysterical laugh, for sure, but it was that or cry. It was simply unfair. Why couldn’t Sir be the man she had to marry? It could never be, but she instinctively knew that marriage to him would never be a chore. Yes, she didn’t know anything about him, really, but at least they were good in bed. While that alone wasn’t a basis for marriage, it was a darn sight better than a simple contract arranged by her father.

  Jamison might well not be ugly, and they might well suit like Papa insisted they would, but he wasn’t her Sir. He wasn’t this man, who looked at her with open vulnerability in his amazing blue eyes, which made her blurt her reply.

  “Stop fishing for compliments. You know damn well you’re not ugly, and I don’t give two hoots about how old you are. I never objected to the marriage on age grounds alone. Age is just a number after all. I guess I just don’t understand why he would want to marry me. He doesn’t know me, or anything about me, and Papa said it was a condition of his accepting the role of his chief of security. It makes no sense.”

  It was her turn to abuse her napkin, and she bit back a sob when Jamie put his large hands over hers.

  He cleared his throat repeatedly, as though the words he wanted to say were difficult, and when he eventually spoke there was a peculiar hoarseness to his voice.

  “I’m not surprised at your reaction if that’s all the Don said to you.”

  That ominous statement made her look at him.

  “Meaning?” she asked. “If you know something more, then do, please, feel free to share it with me, Sir.”

  He flinched at the intonation she put on his title, and she didn’t think he was going to answer her.

  “Only this, and I’m speaking from a security standpoint, because that’s my business, too, and I’ve worked for a fair number of people like your father…” He paused as though he needed to phrase his response carefully. “Having you as his wife will make watching you easier, but I highly doubt that would have been his only intention. He could watch over you easily enough without marrying you. Jamison is, after all, the best in the business.” A curious smile played around his lips as he said that, and Nicole just had to interrupt him.

  “Really, the best? So better than you, then? Just at security or everything else too?”

  A short laugh was her answer, and that eyebrow of his quirked in a silent warning that sent shivers of anticipation across her skin.

  He didn’t address that comment of hers in any other way and continued speaking.

  “Let me just say this. He wants you, pure and simple, and he no doubt knew the only way to have you was to marry you, so…” He left the rest unsaid. There was no need after all, and for the second time that day, dread filled Nicole anew.

  If this was true, then how on ear
th would Jamison react knowing that she had in effect cheated the man of his wedding night?

  “I’m going to have to tell him, won’t I?” she asked, grimacing at the shaky quality of her voice.

  “About?”

  She threw him a pleading look, but she should have known he would make her spell this out. He’d seemed determined for her to face up to what they were doing here from the start, and if this whole night came back to bite her on the ass then she would only have herself to blame.

  “Me not being a virgin anymore.” She finally managed to get the words out through gritted teeth, and Jamie reached for her hand again and squeezed.

  “If you want any chance of this marriage working at all, then yes. Besides, it’s kinda hard to hide something like that, you know.”

  “And if I don’t want it to work?”

  ****

  Her face really was an open book. The Don’s daughter carried her feelings on her sleeves, at least with him. Jamie couldn’t recall ever noticing that in the myriad of pictures of her he’d scoured through. They’d made him want her, had been the reason for him to agree to this, but nothing could have prepared him for the visceral pull he felt toward her, the need to protect her not only from the ones out there who’d wish her harm, simply for being Don Cabrizi’s daughter, but also against the man himself.

  Jamie only had to wait a little longer before he could give the man a piece of his mind. Sadly rearranging her father’s face with his fists was a no go, but he smiled grimly at the direction his thoughts were taking. It didn’t hurt to imagine that, after all.

  “Forget I asked that. We had agreed we wouldn’t discuss this anymore.”

  Her voice shook him out of his thoughts, and she jumped when he got up abruptly, tipping his chair back in the process.

  “That we did, girl. Get up and strip for me.”

  He dropped his voice on purpose, and had to hide his amusement at her startled deer in the headlights look at his rapid change of topic.

  “Wh-at?” Her breath hitched, and she wrapped her arms around herself in a defensive move, which told him how much that request had rattled her.

  “You heard me, girl. I’m not in the habit of repeating myself, so unless you want me to add an extra ten swats to your tally, you best do as I said … now.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Her voice wobbled, but she did rise.

  It was his turn to draw in a sharp breath, as she fumbled with the knot on her robe. It seemed to take ages for her to undo it, and when she did tantalizing glimpses of bare skin showed through the gap. He stepped away to seat himself on the chaise lounge which made up part of the furniture, and was the perfect shape for what he had in mind.

  “All of it, girl. Slip it off your shoulders, and let me see what’s mine.”

  A little mewl of excitement came from his girl, and following his instructions beautifully, she slipped first one and then the other creamy shoulder out of the toweling fabric, while she held it up in front of her breasts. With an impish smile on her flushed face she let the robe slide lower excruciatingly slowly, and by the time her heavy breasts came into view, Jamie was so hard his zipper was in danger of leaving teeth marks along his dick.

  On and on the slow slide of white fabric along skin continued until her sweet cunt came into view, and she let the robe fall to pool around her feet.

  “Beautiful, bellissima. Spread your legs for me and let me see how wet that has made you.”

  He smirked at her staccato breathing, and the way she grasped the table for support as she inched her thighs apart.

  “Wider, girl, use your hand to open your cunt lips. I want to see.”

  “Please, Sir, I can’t. This is…”

  “This is what? You’ve just earned yourself another five swats. Now do as you’re told.”

  She jumped at his terse command, but complied this time, and he barely held in a groan when her puffy pussy lips came into view. Her pussy was still swollen from his earlier attentions. His beard burn was clearly visible on her inner thigh, and his gaze snared on the delightful wetness coating her inner lips as she pulled them apart with her digits. The action exposed her clit, and even from this distance he could tell how engorged and needy that little hot button of hers looked. He unsnapped the top button of his jeans, pulled down the zip and reaching inside freed his heavy erection. A groan came from the woman stood a few feet away, when he took himself in hand and pumped his fist up and down his shaft a few times.

  “This what you want, baby?”

  She licked her lips in answer, and his dick jerked at her breathless reply.

  “Please, Sir.”

  “You best crawl over here and get it then, girl.”

  Nicoletta looked startled for a second, as though she hadn’t heard him right, but when he clicked his fingers and pointed to the floor, she dutifully sank to her knees. The sight of her on all fours crawling toward him, her beautiful breasts swaying from side to side as she did so—man, that was fucking hot. He kept up the slide of his fist over his dick in a vain effort to gain some relief, and sucked in a sharp breath when the little minx stopped in front of him, sat back on her haunches and slid her hands up his legs until she could put them on top of his over his shaft.

  “Can I help you with that, Sir?” she asked, seconds before she licked over his sensitive tip. Jamie saw stars, and taking a deep breath in brought his free hand round to her throat, and squeezed. Not enough to cut off her air supply, just enough to get his point across, and sure enough she froze.

  “That’s another five added. How many is that now, girl?” he asked.

  He released his hold on her when her eyes widened, and he scooted away from her and off the seat, kicking his jeans all the way off in the process. His t-shirt was next, and Nicoletta jumped when it fell across her feet.

  She looked utterly rattled huddled on the floor, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, and thinking mighty hard if the frown drawing her eyebrows together was any indication.

  “Well, girl, have you worked it out yet? While you do, drape yourself over the arm of this chair.” He patted the raised end of the chaise lounge. “Feet on the floor, arms on the seat, belly on the arm rest. I’ll be right back, and you best be in position, lest you add more swats to your impressive tally of thirty-five so far.”

  He grinned at her sharp intake of breath, and left the room in search of his hold-all. By the time he returned it was to find her in position.

  “Such a beautiful sight, you are, my dear, only enhanced by these, methinks.” He dropped the ropes he’d been carrying in his hand in front of her on the seat, and his girl groaned deep in her throat.

  “I’m going to tie you to this chair, until you can’t move, and then, my sweet little thing, I’m going to spank that luscious ass.”

  To prove his point, he slapped her round bottom twice in quick succession, satisfied to see the skin wobble and pink up immediately. The sweet musk of her arousal increased tenfold, and when he kicked her legs apart and ran his hands through her slit he wasn’t at all surprised to find her so wet, she coated his fingers. Nicoletta yelped in surprise when he pushed two digits slick with her arousal into her pussy, and curling them until he found her sweet spot, massaged that raised bump of flesh deep inside her.

  “Please, Sir … oh God, don’t stop.”

  The speed with which she responded was a heavy aphrodisiac indeed, and she moaned her denial when he withdrew the digits, only to tense when he pushed just one finger through her anus.

  “Relax, my sweet. I have another surprise for you.”

  Stepping away, he wiped his fingers clean with a wet wipe, and then pulled out the smallest butt plug he owned. Nicoletta’s eyes widened when he showed it to her.

  “We’ll start with this one, and change it up in a while. Remember your safe words, my sweet.”

  The sound of her swallowing hard seemed terribly loud in the quiet room, but eventually she nodded.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  Jamie gr
inned, slapped her ass twice more, making her gasp, and then picked up the ropes.

  “First things, first. Let’s get you trussed up for my pleasure, bellissima.”

  Chapter Six

  Oh, good God, what had she let herself in for? Her heart beat so fast it was in danger of beating itself right out of her chest, or at least it felt that way. She seemed utterly incapable of breathing in anything other than short staccato bursts, and the ropes. Oh my goodness the ropes.

  Reading about Shibari had always got her wet and she’d pored over hours of video footage of riggers in action, but the reality of the hemp sliding across her skin, waking up every nerve ending in the process was something else entirely. The rope Sir used felt rough and bristly, and the fresh smell of it tickled her nose as she inhaled. By the time he’d fashioned a harness around her ribcage and secured her arms to her side, before bringing the rope around to secure it to the feet of the chaise lounge, she was a sweating, panting mess.

  Strangely enough, even though she couldn’t move a muscle, draped over the soft, padded armrest as she was, she didn’t feel panicked. Quite the opposite, a sense of calm came over her. Her breathing slowed, and she relaxed into the sensation of Sir checking his handiwork, murmuring to her in that mesmerizing deep tone he’d adopted, until nothing else mattered but him.

  “That’s my good girl. You’re doing very well. I was going to secure your legs, too, but let’s warm that sweet butt of yours up a bit, shall we? Give me a color, bellissima.”

  His voice sounded far away, even though she could feel his hot breath ghost across her back as he delivered tiny bites along her spine. They registered as pinpricks of pain, which only served to pitch her further into this strangely detached state of bliss. A sharp and painful swat to her ass shook her out of that briefly.

  “Color?” he asked again.

  “Green, Sir.” She whispered her reply, and she could hear him take a deep breath.

  “Good. Count for me.”

  His voice brooked no argument, and she somehow managed to groan her reply.

  “One.”