A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7)

by Blake, Lexi

  He reached down and gripped her hand, bringing her back to him. “I think it’s a brilliant idea. I think you’ll love dancing. Come on, love. Do you know what it was like having to take bloody ballroom dance classes at the age of eight? Embarrassing. Humiliating. Foolish. You can make it all worthwhile. All that torment could finally be made into something good because I’ll get to be Chelsea Dennis’s first dance. I’m ignoring that shite with Ten. He can’t dance to save his life. He was just trying to get his hands on your bum.”

  Heat flashed through her system. “He was not.”

  Simon loomed over her, and his hands were suddenly on her waist, sliding over her hips until they found the cheeks of her ass. She had to remember to breathe. “Oh, yes he was. He was trying to cup this luscious flesh and drag you close so you would know exactly what he could offer you.”

  She could feel Simon’s offering against her belly. His cock was long and thick and she really wanted to see him naked, to touch him and taste him the way he’d tasted her. But she didn’t want to fall all over him and make an idiot of herself. “Why don’t you kiss me, Simon?”

  He lowered his head, his lips hovering against hers. She could feel his heat right there and she shivered, waiting for the sensation of his mouth brushing hers. He stopped just short. “After you dance with me.”

  He stepped back, bringing his body upright to his full height. His shoulders squared and he held out a single hand. It was an aristocratic gesture, his demeanor reminding her that he was a nobleman. “This is a waltz. Let me show you.”

  “Simon, I’m not even wearing shoes. And this robe is just a little too long.”

  “Then take it off. Drop the robe and we’ll pretend you’re in an elegant evening gown. You won’t need shoes because I promise, your feet aren’t going to touch the floor. I told you I want you to experience the feeling of dancing. I can teach you later, but for tonight, I’ll dance for both of us.”

  She had no idea what he meant, but it was obvious he was going to have his way and she had to admit she was curious. He was hard to turn down when he stood there like a decadent dream. She unbelted the robe. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen everything and the white gown did make her skin look sort of pretty.

  “Oh, remind me to thank my aunt.” He was staring at her breasts.

  “I don’t think your aunt meant anything by it.” But she kind of wanted to thank her, too. Up until now, he’d only seen her in snarky T-shirts. At least he knew she could look like a lady when someone gave her the proper clothes.

  “My aunt can be a tricky one, and she tends to know what she’s doing. Come on.” He held his hand out again and this time she took it. “Stand on my feet.”

  She looked up at him, but he had his Dom face on. She nodded and stepped onto his loafers. Her feet fit almost entirely on the bridge of his.

  “All right, put your left hand on my shoulder,” he instructed as he took her right hand in his and held it out to the side in a formal dance position. She’d seen people dance on TV, but she’d never once thought to do it herself. She was too awkward, too closed off. “Look into my eyes. The glorious thing about the waltz is we never break contact. I hold you tight the whole time. Trust me, love.”

  He moved his foot slowly, as though getting used to her weight. He stepped out with his right foot and followed with his left, turning slightly. Awkward at first, he never stopped looking at her, never gave her a moment to look at anything but him.

  After a moment, he seemed to get comfortable and that innate grace that was such a part of him took over. He moved across their little dance floor in sweeping motions. Chelsea held on for dear life at first, but after he really picked up the rhythm, she relaxed in his arms. He wouldn’t let her fall. He wouldn’t misstep and send them to the floor. He would carry her when she couldn’t carry herself.

  “Let go,” he whispered to her. “Let yourself just feel for once. Let me give this to you.”

  She looked into his eyes and let her inhibitions go. She gave over to him, finally really understanding that submission didn’t have to mean that she was weak. It didn’t have to be a means to an end. It could be a gift—from sub to Dom and from Dom back to sub. The music flowed through her and for the first time in her life she felt like she was floating. Maybe not the first as she flashed back to a time when her mother twirled her around and around until they were both laughing and fell to the sand together. Freedom. She hadn’t felt so free since she was a child.

  A wild joy took up in her heart and seemed to flow through her veins as Simon whirled her around. His hands tightened as he picked up the pace with the next song. She was floating, flying and it was all because of him.

  “Please make love to me.” The words came out naturally, without her even thinking about them.

  Simon stopped, his eyes finding hers. “That is going to have to do.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  He’d promised to make her scream his name and beg him, but getting a sweet and polite request from Chelsea Dennis was almost a miracle. She’d said it and his cock had practically jumped around in his trousers. He hadn’t actually planned on keeping her to his ridiculous vow of that first night, but hearing those words from her mouth were sweet indeed.

  Without another thought, he leaned over and hooked his arm under her knees, lifting her against his chest. The bed wasn’t far away and he wasn’t going to waste another bloody second. Months and months had gone by as his dick languished, waiting for her to catch up. He couldn’t see a point in spending another second not buried deep inside her.

  Except for the fact that she’d never had a man buried inside her before. He was the first and meant to be the last, and that meant not mucking it up like an untried schoolboy. He stopped, taking a deep breath.

  “Simon?” Chelsea was looking up at him. He’d expected a bit of fear, but she was frowning his way. Her narrowed eyes gave him the clear impression that he’d already made a mistake.

  “I’m going too fast.”

  “You are going way, way too slow. Don’t you have something you want to say to me? Something beyond ‘that will have to do’? That’s horrible. I expected better from you.”

  He couldn’t help the grin that crossed his face. Most women would already be all over him, demanding their pleasure, but not his Chelsea. “Don’t I get credit for all the candles and the dancing?”

  She softened a bit. “Yes, but something more along the lines of ‘you look pretty let’s go to bed’ could go with it.”

  All of that brash wit of hers fled and she was a bit timid again, as though he wouldn’t think she was pretty. “You’re gorgeous and I want to make love to you. I made that plain from the beginning. I want to take you in every way a man can have a woman, but we’re going to go slow and easy.”

  “I don’t want to go slow and easy. Simon, I think about you all the time. I think about the gentleman you are, but when I close my eyes and see you and my whole body clenches in anticipation, it’s not the gentleman I see. It’s the Dom. I want my Dom.”

  “Don’t tempt me.” He was barely leashed as it was. He wanted her so badly and he didn’t want to make sweet love to her. He wanted to fuck. He wanted to take her hard but only after he’d mastered her body. When she’d taken his discipline for her disobedience and she looked up at him with wide pleading eyes because she couldn’t stand another moment without his dick inside her, that was when he would take her.

  But he didn’t want to hurt her. He didn’t want to frighten her.

  “Please, Simon. I don’t want you to treat me like I’m made of glass. I feel that way far too often. I want to know what it means to be your sub. Even if it’s only for a night. Please. I want to be yours, really yours.”

  He entered the bedroom and set her on her feet. This guest room used to be Dana’s. It was feminine, but not frilly. The cream colors complemented the gown Chelsea was wearing that he really was going to thank his aunt for. He’d seen her in the baggy shite she used to conceal h
er beauty and versions of fet wear, but this Chelsea was soft and sweet, with beautifully feminine curves that made his mouth water. Her breasts were round and upright in the bodice and he could see a hint of the legs she always tried to hide. If she wanted her Dom, she was going to find out there was absolutely nothing she hid from him.

  “Present yourself to me.”

  Her eyes flared for a second and then her jaw went firm, stubborn as she started to lower herself. He caught her because she really hadn’t read that bloody contract. He had to work on her lamentable lack of attention to any details that had nothing to do with computer code. “Most submissives greet their Doms on their knees, but I don’t want that from you.”

  “Because you think I can’t do it?” There was that stubborn little girl who so often came out any time she was challenged.

  “Because I think it would be uncomfortable for you, love. The presentation is merely a formal act of submission meant to let both parties know it’s time to play. Many times it’s a gift to the Dom because the sub wouldn’t get on his or her knees for anyone else. You have other acts you can give me, acts that prove you belong to me and me alone. When the other subs get to their knees, you’ll walk up to me, invade my space, and wrap yourself around me. You’ll say the following words. ‘I offer myself to you, Master.’”

  She frowned. “I think I would rather get to my knees.”

  Because she would see that as less intimate. Well, she said she wanted her Dom. She was about to get him. Hardening his voice, he pointed to the bed. “Put your hands on the mattress, palms flat, and get your backside in the air. Now. It’s a count of twenty but I will add ten for every moment you hesitate.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  “You didn’t know you were supposed to obey your Dom? I’ll have to take that up with Ian since he assures me you were properly instructed in how to behave around a Dominant partner.” He gave her a stern glare. Did she think he was a pussy Dom who would sit back and hope she obeyed him? “That’s another ten. We’re up to thirty, love. Do you want to make it forty?”

  She turned and walked to the bed, her head held high. She placed her palms on the cover and leaned over.

  Not nearly good enough. He had chosen their protocol in deference to her legs, but there was nothing at all wrong with her ass. “Higher. You’ll get that luscious ass higher for me.”

  There was no way he missed the hitch in her breath as she resettled herself, her legs spreading slightly, her back flattening out.

  “Would you like to explain to me why you can’t obey?” He actually liked this part. It was all play and he would stop the minute she protested, but he rather enjoyed being the big bad Dom.

  “I was just asking a question.”

  He smacked her cheek through the gown. “What do you call me?”

  “Master. I was just asking a question, Master.”

  How quickly she forgot. Another smack. “It wasn’t a question. You stated that you would prefer to greet me in another fashion than the one we agreed upon. Don’t you dare say you didn’t know. It was laid out for you. Now, tell me why you won’t greet me the way I wish to be greeted.”

  “I’m sorry,” she breathed. “I don’t know why. It really wasn’t a hard thing to do. I’m just not used to being intimate and when I thought about doing that in front of everyone, it made me nervous.”

  Finally, a bit of honesty. “Because you don’t want anyone to know you belong to me?”

  Her head shook. “Because I always worry that if people know I’m soft, they’ll know how to hurt me and I’m sick of being hurt.”

  More sweet honesty. It made him even more hopeful than her agreeing to go to bed with him. Chelsea hid everything. She hid behind her smart mouth and her computer. She hid behind her sister. He didn’t want her to hide anything from him. He wanted to lay her open so she would know she could trust him. “I can’t promise that no one will hurt you again. I can promise I’ll protect you from anyone who tries.”

  “Why did you hit your cousin?”

  “Because he tried to keep me from you.” He let his hand run along her cheeks, feeling her through the silk of her gown. That would have to go, but he wanted to enjoy her on every level. “I won’t let anyone do that. As long as you accept me as your Master, I won’t let you do it either. I’ll be honest and open with you and I expect the same. I won’t close myself off.”

  “You never told me about your brother.”

  His cousins had been busy. He hadn’t really intended to talk about his family because they weren’t a part of his life in the States. But she was quite smart. She knew exactly when to play her cards. “Fine. I’ll talk while you take your punishment. And you should be deeply glad that I’ve decided to forgive you for disobeying my very direct order concerning running.” She hadn’t done it for selfish reasons. She’d tried to save him. He found he just couldn’t punish her for being loving. Maybe he was the pussy Dom. “But if you disobey next time, I swear you won’t sit for a week.”

  “I’ll do it next time, Simon. I can’t run when you’re in danger. I can’t. And you should understand how different that is for me. I spent my life running. There are two people I can’t leave behind. You and my sister.” Her head drooped. “Maybe more. I’ve gone fucking soft. I don’t think I could have even left Jesse behind.”

  Because she was starting to feel for her family. This was what he’d been working toward. He’d been working toward making her a part of the team because the team was a family—the one he’d been looking for all his life. He might complain about Ian from time to time, but he was a good brother. He’d found a whole brotherhood, and he wanted Chelsea to love them, too. “Because you’re brave, love. I can’t fault you for being brave.”

  He could adore her for it though. He’d lied. He’d been intrigued that first day when she’d given him her best uppercut. He’d thought about her, but he hadn’t fallen until later. A few days later, he’d found her crying in the office. He’d asked her what was wrong and she’d stood up, thrown her shoulders back and sniffled. She’d told him that she was scared because her sister was going to leave her. But she’d shut her mouth and gotten on the plane that took them to India and she’d supported Charlotte ever since. She might call Ian Satan, but she’d allowed her sister to find love when she hadn’t had to. Charlotte would have given in, but Chelsea backed off. She still called for Charlotte from time to time, but it was only because she didn’t have her own lover, her own man. It would be different from this night on.

  Chelsea would reach for him. She would be his—to protect and care for. To provide her with affection and everything she needed.

  “God, Simon. It doesn’t feel like punishment. It feels so good.” Her ass wiggled a bit. She enjoyed a bite of pain. Her needs dovetailed neatly with his own. “How do you make that feel good?”

  She was harder core than many subs he knew. She truly liked the pain. He smacked her a little harder, watching the way she shivered. “I know what you need.” Two more. He kept count in his head. Later, he would hear her count it out for him, but apparently they were having a therapy session. “What do you want to know about my brother?”

  “Is he okay?” Her breath hitched as he drew the gown up, but she managed to not protest.

  Smart girl. He pushed the gown up over her cheeks until he could see the perfection of her backside. Pretty skin, beautifully round and made to hold on to while he fucked inside her. And she wanted to talk about Clive. “He’s perfectly fit. I take it my cousins told you about his childhood illness.”

  He discovered he liked the leisurely nature of this particular session. So many times a spanking was rote and something to get over quickly, but he could take his time with Chelsea. He’d delivered discipline in sessions created to give the sub what she requested. He’d been a rent-a-Dom. He’d worked Karina over many times and never once had he stopped and sighed over how lovely she was and talked about himself in the midst of slapping her ass.

  “J
T said he had cancer.” A whimper came out of her mouth, finding a straight line to his cock. He loved her little sounds.

  And damn but he loved the scent of her arousal. He could smell her. She was getting ripe and ready. Three quick smacks had her shaking, but she held her position. Yes, this way he could keep her on edge, never knowing exactly what he was going to do next. He let his fingers skim her flesh as he spoke. “They found it when he was seven and I was four.”

  “And they sent you away?”

  “Not at first. I was too young. I had nannies. A couple were good. A couple were bad. For the next ten years, our lives revolved around my brother’s blood counts and his chemo. I’ll be honest, I was grateful at times to go to school or to come here because even when I was home, it wasn’t mine. Not really.”

  He never talked about this, but somehow it was easier this way. They were alone and he could touch her, feel her soft skin. He was further from those years in this place. He peppered her cheeks with quick, sharp slaps.

  She shuddered. “You’re killing me, Master.” She took a long breath. “Were you lonely?”

  He chuckled a bit. “Yes, darling. I was a lonely child. I didn’t just miss my parents. I missed him. He was a good brother and then he was gone. They didn’t want me around him much because his immune system was so damaged. They spent a year in Zurich at a treatment facility. I saw my mother once that year. She came for family day, but all she talked about was how well Clive was doing and how we could all be together again soon. He took a turn for the worse a month later.”

  “So you didn’t get to go home. Don’t forget my thighs. Please, Master.”

  He didn’t have his kit or he would get his flogger out. Though this was a ranch and he knew where the crops were kept. He might have to make a stop at the barn later. For now he gave in because she’d said that one little word. He laid stinging slaps to the backs of her thighs, satisfied when she groaned. “No, I didn’t go home. I was told by everyone that I should stay out of the way and pray for my brother and simply be satisfied that I had my health. I lived to come here, you know. I counted the days. The first time I came here I was seven and my aunt insisted. She came over to England and flew back with me. She escorted me to and from all those years. She insisted she liked the time alone with me. I liked the time alone with her, too.”