Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve)

Home > Other > Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) > Page 13
Boxed Set: The His Submissive Series Complete Collection (Part One-Part Twelve) Page 13

by Claire, Ava

I turned to Allegra, ready to fight for him. "I have to get him back."

  She brought me in for a hug, holding tight. I felt her blessing radiating in her smile when she pulled back. "I was hoping you would say that."

  She reached in her pocket and pulled out a phone. "Jacob scheduled a last minute meeting at Bella Monica, but it smacks of Rachel. You will go and get your time with him."

  My mind jolted me back to standing awkwardly at the table at lunch, nerves eating me alive. I hadn’t been able to get through to him before. I had to do something different this time or it would just be a repeat horror show. "How do I make him listen?"

  Allegra's heels clicked on the floor as she moved to the closet. She reappeared with the deep red dress I’d worn back in the boutique when I began this crazy journey. In that dress, I’d had my epiphany—the moment that I believed that I actually belonged in Jacob’s world.

  "In this dress," Allegra said with a mischievous smile, "how could he not?"

  ****

  When Allegra slid behind the wheel of the car, she had a twinkle in her eye. We had to make one last stop on the way to the restaurant. That stop included picking up an olive skinned man with silky black hair, angular features, and a thick accent that stroked my eardrums. His name was Silvio De Luca, Allegra’s nephew...who just happened to be a professional model.

  I’d bypassed nervousness and headed straight for terrified.

  I teetered on my heels while every move my impromptu date made was suave and graceful. He gave me a dizzying smile as I brought us to a stop a few feet from the cobblestone steps in front of the restaurant.

  "Everything is fine?" he asked, his voice sending goose bumps over my bare arms.

  "Y-yes," I lied. "I just need a minute." At least that was a bit of the truth. I needed time to digest what was about to go down. Time to believe that Jacob would even notice or care if I sashayed into the restaurant with some sexy guy at my side.

  Oh god what if he totally ignored me? What if he saw right through it? Saw right through me?

  "Leila." Silvio's warm hand cupped my cheek. "You’re all red. There is no need for nervousness."

  I gave him a look. "My..." I paused as I realized I had no name for what Jacob was to me. "Jacob is in there." My heart beat erratically as I pictured him behind a table, Rachel across from him. "The man I'm in love with is here with another woman."

  "Si," Silvio grinned slyly. "And as soon as you glide through those doors he'll see what a big mistake he made."

  "Or he'll just ignore me entirely," I said, biting my lip.

  Silvio frowned, lost in thought. He snapped his fingers and pulled me toward a fountain tucked away from the entrance. The smell of roses mingled with the rush of water.

  Silvio gestured at the water. "What do you see?"

  I stepped forward and looked at the woman reflected back at me. "Someone playing dress up."

  "Then you do not see," he said, turning me back to face him. "I see a woman that would be beautiful in Valentino or a potato sack."

  I laughed at that, a bit of a snort that scooped out the trembling and insecurities as I looked at Silvio, realizing that I’d seen his face in several magazines during the trip. This was so not my life. Falling in love with Jacob Whitmore, losing him, and using some male model to get him back.

  Silvio ran a hand through his long, raven colored hair, regarding me pensively. "Maybe that's it."

  I cocked my head to the side. "What do you mean?"

  "That you don't see," he explained. "You don't know how dazzling you are and it makes you devastatingly so." He gave me another handsome smile. "This Jacob is a lucky man."

  "We're both lucky," I said softly. And that’s what I needed to tell Jacob. That we were good together. Good for each other.

  I stood tall and tucked my arm back into Silvio’s. "Shall we?"

  We stepped through the doors of Bella Monica and I held my breath as I scanned the impressive room for him. I stopped breathing when I found him, clad in a smoky, charcoal gray suit with a hint of color in his tie. Rachel was chattering on about something and from the way Jacob restlessly glanced about, it was far from anything he was interested in.

  When his eyes tilted in my direction, I felt dizzy as I saw his face change, the primal hunger I'd seen when he showed me his private room gripping his eyes. His lips parted and-

  "Are you ready?" Silvio whispered in my ear.

  Jacob's eyes shot to him and the lust in his gaze was promptly replaced by something dark and dangerous.

  I forced a smile and gave Silvio a nod as I turned my back to Jacob. We walked to the bar and I eased onto the plush chair as Silvio went to get us drinks. It was hell to not look back over and see if he was watching me. As soon as Silvio brandished two crystal glasses filled with dark brown liquid, I shoveled it down my throat in two gulps.

  "Relax," Silvio chuckled gently. "The hardest part is over."

  "Oh I doubt that," I groaned. "We shared a..." My cheeks flared with warmth. "A, uh, moment. And then he saw you."

  Silvio grinned around the lip of his glass. "He was angry, yes?"

  "Yes."

  His midnight eyes looked past me and the corners of his mouth nearly touched his hairline. "Then there's only one thing left to do."

  I fondled with the pearls at my neck. "And what's that?"

  "Dance with me."

  The alcohol must have kicked in quicker than I thought because it sounded kind of like he was asking me to dance.

  Silvio cocked his head toward the dance floor. "Dance with me."

  It was a simple request and a handful of other patrons already heeded the sultry call of the violin and castanets. But fear of making things worse kept me locked in place.

  I shook my head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "Dancing's always a good idea." He rose to his feet, drawing more than a couple of female eyes as he walked to my side and extended his hand. "You're too beautiful to sit over here on pins and needles. Dance with me, Leila."

  I glared at him, knowing there was no way I could turn him down with an audience. I slid off the chair begrudgingly and followed him to the floor.

  The music changed tempo and Silvio pulled my body tight to his. I didn't have time to be nervous as he slowly began to rock into me.

  "Just follow my lead."

  And we were off. My dress whipped like flames as we weaved and turned and dipped in time with the music. There was nothing but the infectious rhythm and Silvio's throaty laugh as he whooped and commanded the floor. His long, ebony hair flapped and spun around his handsome face as he gyrated. He spread life and glee that rippled through the other dancers. Soon we were all moving with abandon and I spun even faster, laughing, smiling, living in the moment.

  When the music slowed I took a breath, leaning against him as we gave the band a round of applause.

  Silvio gave my hand a squeeze as he leaned in, his breathing labored. "Better?"

  "Much better," I giggled. The music started back up, this time a slow, romantic coo. I held out my hands toward him. What the hell. It's not like I had any other takers. I had a feeling if Jacob was still in the restaurant he wanted nothing to do with me. I wasn't ready to address what that meant. All I wanted to do was dance.

  But Silvio wasn’t looking at me at all. He was looking just behind me. "I think the next dance is not for me."

  "What?" I frowned. "But-"

  "The next dance is mine."

  Jacob's voice stripped me down to my bones and I went rigid. I told my body to turn, to put my arms around his neck. This was my chance. But I couldn't move.

  Silvio stepped away and I snapped my mouth shut as I watched Jacob take Silvio’s place. No, in his charcoal two piece suit, it quickly became, “Silvio who?”

  Jacob was the all-powerful, muscled, impossibly handsome man that reduced me to a puddle on the floor with just a look. There was no one but him.

  "Leila." Even my name sounded like pure sex on his tongue.

>   I exhaled. "Jacob."

  He held out his hands, bright eyes flashing. "Shall we?"

  I hesitantly took his hand and took a step closer. I could tell he was still fuming from the tight set of his jaw.

  "Should I call back tall, dark, and handsome?" he said bitingly.

  I tried to relax and failed, completely and utterly. "I-I don't know what you mean."

  His eyes narrowed to navy slits. "C'mon, Leila. You're practically cringing. Just a second ago, while you danced with that man, you were on top of the world."

  “You were the one I wanted to dance with,” I said softly. “Only you.” I inhaled his warm, familiar scent. It was like sliding under my favorite blanket. Like going home. But right now all he had were the lies and me showing up with some strange guy. This was my chance to set the record straight, if I could just open my mouth.

  I moved closer, sliding one hand up his tailored arm and trying to not take it personally when his mouth twitched disapprovingly when I ran my fingers through his hair.

  "I didn't think you'd come," I said softly.

  “Why did you come, Leila?”

  His question caught me off guard, but the answer was simple. “Because I care about you.”

  He let out something that sounded like a snort and shook his head.

  “Don’t you dare dismiss my feelings, Jacob,” I said heatedly. “Not after all we’ve been through.”

  "Well, when someone in my employ purposefully ignores my orders-"

  "Your orders?" I snapped. "You mean sending me back to the States with my tail between my legs?"

  He swept me around, his jaw as rigid and angry as his movements. "Don't try to play innocent. You met with Rachel behind my back-"

  "I wouldn't really call being cornered and given an ultimatum a 'meeting'."

  "And then you lied to me all day," he blazed on, ignoring my interjection. "You told me some sob story about your father." The hurt in his voice deepened. "You didn't even blink before you went along with her transparent efforts to drive a wedge between us."

  "I did blink," I insisted. When he let out a grunt of disbelief and tilted his face from mine, I reached up and gently rotated his chin back toward me. "Don't turn away from me. Not when I came here to-"

  "To make me jealous?" he said tersely. "I expected these kinds of games from Rachel. But not from you."

  Being compared to her was like being slapped across the face. But I had to deflect the blow and explain myself. "The guy I was with, Silvio-"

  "Silvio?" he said with a frown. "Of course his name is Silvio."

  "And his last name is De Luca," I smirked. "Allegra's nephew."

  "Allegra's nephew?" He digested it. "So you two aren't-"

  "No," I replied. "He was just...moral support."

  He visibly relaxed and when I brushed against him, chest to chest, he didn't pull back. I rocked against him, side to side, hopping that the feel of me could say the things that no words could do justice. My cheek was against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his heart weaving through the soulful music notes. The words were right there and his hand stroked my back, forgetting, forgiving, I never felt those words more.

  I gazed up at him. "Jacob, I-"

  "I'm sorry," Jacob cut in, soft as a kiss. “I overacted.”

  I didn't know if his confession was a blessing—stopping me from making a declaration that I couldn't take back—or a curse that had me keeping the whole truth from him yet again.

  "I shouldn't have dismissed you,” he continued. “Not in front of Rachel. She was all but rubbing her hands together with glee." When I made a face at the sound of her name, his eyes lit up with amusement. "But whatever half-baked plan she hatched isn't important right now."

  Heat spread all over me, the epicenter his hand careening over the curve of my bottom.

  "What's important right now is the fact that watching that man put his hands on you made me want to burn this building to the ground."

  I pressed tighter against him, relishing his curve of lust beating in time with the uptick of the music. With his fingertips pressing into the scarlet fabric of my dress, every breath was husky as I rocked into him. What started off as romantic, longing moves became carnal.

  "I never would have pegged you for a pyromaniac," I teased. "Or someone that gets jealous."

  "I think I threw away the rulebook the day I met you," he said, stripping me with his eyes.

  I ran my tongue over my lips, remembering his salty taste, remembering the emotion overload of going to bed with him. He was all-consuming and I wanted him to devour me until there wasn't a single inch left.

  Our eyes met and I nearly squealed when I saw we were on the same page. My fingers held tight to his as we left the dance floor and made our way to the exit. Sight and sound became one as we stepped into the warm Mediterranean night.

  He led me to a sleek, black limo where a man in a simple dark suit sat perched on the hood, smoking a cigarette. Even in the near dark I saw the man pale as he snuffed it out and snapped to attention.

  "My apologies, Mr. Whitmore." He looked at me in surprise, probably remembering that Jacob went in with a very different woman. "We leave now?"

  "Yes," Jacob replied smoothly. The driver opened the door and Jacob stepped to the side to let me pass. "After you, Miss Montgomery."

  I gave him a sly grin, feeling his gaze on my rear end as I slid across the cool leather seats. Jacob moved in beside me and I waited with bated breath as the driver took his place behind the wheel and started the car.

  Jacob reached over to a panel near the door and pressed a button that sent the partition up, putting a barrier between us and prying eyes.

  I knew what he had planned and it sent sticky delight to the part of me that needed him just as much as my heart; the part of me that clenched and quivered when he beckoned me with a finger.

  I licked my lips and the words flowed from me like honey. "How may I serve you?"

  His eyes were hot with lust as he leaned back, but there was nothing sweet about the timbre of his voice when he replied.

  "Get over here and lay across my lap."

  ****

  I knew it was only a matter of time before his slow, methodical strokes would intensify. What I wasn't prepared for was the thrill in the waiting. With each new rotation of him caressing each side, teasing me, I trembled with renewed anticipation.

  “You’ve been a naughty girl, haven’t you?” His hand trailed down and when it cycled back up, his fingertips carried up the hem of my dress. Each inch brought the warm night breeze to my skin. I wanted him to spank me. To punish me. Jesus, I never thought I’d voluntarily lay there and wait for someone to wail on me, but I’d never wanted anything more than this. I wanted him to take me to a place where everything, even pain, faded. A place where there was only us.

  He gripped one of my cheeks, kneading and pumping it. “You deserve to be punished, don’t you?” He tightened his hold when I didn’t answer. “Answer me, Leila!”

  “Yes,” It came out as a whine. A plea. “Yes sir.” Punish me, Jacob.

  “When I saw the way you were moving with that man—gyrating, laughing, pressing your body against his—I wanted to drag you from the room. After decking him, of course.” He added.

  Regret flared at the thought of that. It would have caused quite a scene, but the idea of him punching out someone over jealousy made me shiver with delight.

  “I wanted to take you home and strap you to the cross.” His finger trailed down the seam of my thong, stopping at my pulsing core. “I wanted to flog you until you screamed my name.”

  I imagined the fear, the pain, and the perverse pleasure. It made me squirm as he rubbed my heat through the thin fabric. “But I can’t wait until we get home, Leila.” His voice was rough. Rife with lust. “I want to punish you now.”

  He stopped stroking and it took all my self-control to not beg him for more. Before I submitted, I would have tried to get my point across in blatant ways. Throa
ty moans. Rocking my hips. But I trusted that he knew exactly what I needed—and that it wouldn’t come so easy. Not tonight.

  “You will count out every strike,” he commanded. “Every. Last. One.”

  His hand came down on my bottom and the crack echoed over me. It brought more surprise than pain.

  “One,” I said breathlessly. “Two.”

  The second landed over the first. The third expanded the warm discomfort. Fifth, sixth made me grit my teeth.

  I gripped his calves as I hung suspended across his lap, swallowing the tears that burned my eyes as he blazed through the teens. My bottom became a screeching nerve, exposed, feeling everything and nothing at the same time.

  Just when I reached that point, the top of it where the pain would become something savage, the licks stopped.

  The cool touch of his fingers combined with a warm, tingling sensation and I couldn’t stop the giggle from falling from my lips. He traveled around with the special cream?

  “Always prepared, huh?”

  “I was a boy scout,” he joked. He took care of me, rubbing the lotion into my skin gently, its menthol properties cooling the heat from the spanking. “Are you okay to sit?”

  “Yes.” Naturally, I clamored off his knees as ungracefully as humanely possible, but when I caught a glimpse of the look on his face, I didn’t see bemusement. He was looking at me with awe. Like he was seeing me for the first time.

  “You know,” he said finally, “When you walked out of the restaurant at lunch, I wanted to go after you.”

  I righted myself, tucking wayward curls behind my ear. “You did?” I turned to him. “Why didn’t you?”

  He glanced out his window for what felt like a lifetime before turning back to me. “Because I’d have to admit that learning that you lied to me was devastating. That it hollowed me out.” His eyes held mine intently. “I’d have to admit that I let you in...and let you get closer than anyone before.”

  Guilt crept back in and I broke away. How could I look him in the eye after that? “You let me in and I hurt you. I’m so sorry, Jacob. I had this long list of reasons why, good reasons I thought. But reasons are just excuses. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

 

‹ Prev