Dare to Surrender

by Carly Phillips

  “Everything, Iz.” He folded his arms across his broad chest.

  I noted he was still dressed, yet again, I did as he commanded, never once thinking not to listen. Warning bells sounded in the back of my brain, a place that should have been front and center but was somehow very far away.

  The panties, I slipped off quickly. The bra, that wasn’t so easy. I’d always been self-conscious of my breasts, too big for the rest of my body, except my generous hips and ass, another sore subject for me. Over time, Lance hadn’t been complimentary, and it was only now that I understood why. By making me feel like nobody else would want me, he’d kept me with him far longer than I should have been.

  Braver now, my hands went for the back hook on my bra, releasing the clasp and letting the garment fall to the floor.

  “Eyes open.” His voice sounded like a clap of thunder, sharp and booming.

  I hadn’t realized I’d closed them and forced myself to meet his gaze. Approval and heat—so much heat—lit up his handsome face. There was no doubt that this man wanted me. Every rounded, curvy inch. Liquid trickled from my thighs, and I had no doubt he noticed. He had to, and I wanted to die of embarrassment that his orders were making me this hot. Wet. So needy I wanted to rub myself against him like the kitten he called me.

  “Good girl.”

  The compliment rippled through me, cultivating a deeper yearning, more moisture.

  He walked over, and the powerful scent of his cologne enveloped me like a safety net. I desperately longed for his touch but didn’t know how to ask.

  He reached out and cupped my shoulder in a firm grip, and just like that, I settled. My muscles relaxed, and my head felt less heavy. A pleased smile curved his lips, telling me somehow he’d known what I needed and was happy I’d responded.

  Confused and so very aroused, I blew out a long stream of air … and waited. For what, I didn’t know, but he seemed to be moving at his own pace, and I was content to allow him the privilege.

  “You’re perfect,” he said, tipping his head down for a sweet kiss on my lips.

  Sweet?

  Yes, I thought, contradictorily sweet, and I arched up on my tiptoes for more.

  He abruptly broke contact. “On the bed.”

  I forced my heavy eyelids open and scrambled to do as he said. Never even questioned it.

  “Back against the pillows, legs open, hands on the headboard.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  A muscle ticked on one side of his jaw. “Trust me to give you what you need.”

  I should’ve hesitated.

  I told myself to take back some control.

  Instead, I complied.

  I scooted my butt backward and leaned against the pillows. Spreading my legs wide? Not so easy. I parted my thighs, feeling open and exposed. Silly. I focused on my other task, raising my hands to the slats on the headboard—until I realized the effect it had of thrusting my breasts out for his view. Well, that took my mind off my lower half, and I dropped my elbows to lessen the feeling of being so exposed.

  The loud clap of Gabe’s hands startled me. “Eyes,” he ordered, pointing to his own. “On me always. Legs wider.”

  I managed a deep breath and exposed my wet self to his hot stare.

  “And relax those arms, kitten, or you’ll be sore for no reason,” he said, his tone gentling as he stepped closer to the bed and eased himself beside me.

  He clasped one hand at the top of my thigh. “So fucking perfect,” he murmured, and my heart swelled at the words.

  Leaning in, he eased his lips over mine in a way I sensed meant he wouldn’t be parting from me anytime soon. He slid that beautiful mouth back and forth over mine, moisture we created together causing a delicious slip and glide between us. His hand slid higher up my leg, inch by inch, until his thumb began a steady sweep over my bare mound, a place so long denied a gentle, caring touch.

  I moaned again. This time I didn’t care, arching my hips, seeking harder contact, more pressure. A light slap on my bare pussy startled me.

  “One, eyes on me,” Gabe said. “And two, I’ll give you what you need. You only need to trust me to know what … and when.”

  “But—”

  Another slap, this one slightly harder, the sting deeper. “Oh!” I gasped in outraged surprise only to be startled when the sting wore off and a pulsating warmth took its place. “Oohh,” I whispered in sudden understanding as arousal replaced confusion.

  My hips twisted against his hand, and I immediately caught myself, stopping the movement, no matter how badly I wanted the contact and pressure his palm could provide.

  “Now you’re getting the point,” he said, pleased. Leaning close, he settled his stubbled face against my cheek, and I breathed him in, taking the scent that was Gabe into my bones.

  “Let me make you feel good.”

  “Yes.” The word came without thought.

  He was still dressed, and I didn’t care, my only thought centered on relief from the ache he’d caused and continued to stoke.

  He lay between my legs and dipped his head, his warm breath flowing over the apex of my thighs. I wanted to arch up but didn’t dare.

  Trust me, he’d said.

  Nobody had taken care of me. Everyone else’s needs always came prior to my own. But this man seemed wholly focused on me and my needs, I thought, as his tongue slid over me and a long shudder shook through me. He licked and stroked, first one outer lip, then the other, teasing me with circular laps of his tongue, surrounding the one spot that begged for attention.

  I gripped the headboard harder, holding on tightly, while he devoured every inch of me. Never had anyone lingered so long or groaned in such primal satisfaction at a job well done. He nibbled with his teeth, took long sweeps with his tongue, alternating them quickly and mercilessly until sensations collided, fighting for dominance. I climbed higher and higher still, his devoted attention to his task perfect, no place, no detail left out. My hips shook, and waves attacked me, rising but never peaking as Gabe kept me hanging, my climax so close yet just out of reach.

  I was soaked with my own juices and from him, and I didn’t care. He let out a low groan, and the vibrations skyrocketed through me, my sighs, moans, oh Gods echoing throughout the room. Stars flickered behind my eyes, and I was certain this was it, I was so ready to detonate, and the bastard eased off, changed pace, pulling me back down only to start all over again. Nobody had ever played me so thoroughly or so well.

  Without warning, he thrust not one finger but two inside me at the exact moment he latched on to my clit with his teeth. I screamed. He curved his fingers, somehow finding an elusive spot that brought me to exquisite heights, shattering me into pieces that scattered into the air. I lost track of time and place, wholly and utterly spent.

  I don’t know how long a time passed, only that I came to myself slowly, my breathing catching up with my mind, my mind with my body, until I was able to focus. Somehow I was wrapped in Gabe’s strong arms.

  I reached for him, finding his shirt and not his skin. “You’re still dressed,” I said, disappointed. I wanted to see his body, the muscles I’d only imagined, the hot skin beneath the clothes. But I hadn’t been given the pleasure of the view. I hadn’t felt him in my hands, nor had I experienced him inside my body.

  “I didn’t want to rush things.” He stared down at me, his expression more shuttered than before.

  My heart beat a rapid staccato, fear replacing contentment. I struggled to sit, to pull away. If he didn’t want me, what had that been about? Exposing me that way?

  “Relax.” His arms tightened, easing me back into him.

  I shook my head, rebelling against his control. “I don’t like these kind of games.” Sex games? Games for pleasure? I wouldn’t have thought I’d enjoy those, but he’d made me see that I could. But emotional games were something else, and he’d clearly pulled away, encasing himself in some sort of icy shell. This after making me melt all over him. That was just cruel.


  Tears filled my eyes, and mortification rushed through me. “Let me go.”

  “I want you,” he said, the words stilling my movements. “Maybe too much.”

  That caused a pain in my chest. “Explain.”

  His long silence frightened me, but since he wasn’t releasing his tight hold, I had no choice but to wait out his explanation.

  “I never have unprotected sex.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I should hope not.” Understanding dawned. “You don’t have condoms?” Had he used them all up with—I quickly cut off that train of thought.

  He groaned, his hand stroking my hair. “I have them.”

  “Then I really don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I,” he muttered, almost too low for me to hear.

  I didn’t get what was going on with him—a change of mind? Or not?

  Uncomfortable being the only one undressed and vulnerable, I forced myself out of his embrace. “Explain or I walk,” I said, jumping out of bed and searching for my clothes.

  “Stop,” he commanded in that voice.

  Until he provided me with understanding that made sense, I wasn’t falling under his spell again. Without worrying about the panties, I continued my jerky movements, pulling up the sweats and yanking the tee shirt over my head.

  “I don’t want anything between us when I come inside you,” he finally said, the admission drawn from somewhere deep. “Skin to skin. Flesh to flesh. No barrier. I couldn’t stand it.”

  I stilled. His words were soft, not spoken in that take-charge way, yet my body responded, returning to the place where I ceded control willingly, without thought.

  This was bad, I realized. Scary bad, this sudden deep, emotional need and connection between us. But it existed.

  I looked up, met his gaze. He stared back, but his expression still held blank pieces, and my stomach churned uncomfortably.

  He held out his hand.

  I strode over, placing my palm in his. Decision made, nerves be damned. Whatever this was, we were in it together. Because what I’d found with Gabe behind his bedroom door was too strong to be denied.

  I sensed there was more to why he hadn’t … fucked me … than wanting us skin to skin. I shivered at the sensual prospect because I wanted it too. But it scared me. Badly.

  I wondered what it would take for him to admit that it had scared him too.

  Chapter Eight

  Gabe: Coming to Terms

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Gabe swept the papers off his desk, sending everything flying onto the floor. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way about anyone. Not ever again.

  Ghosts flashed in front of his eyes, of those he’d loved and lost, and the one he hadn’t really loved and should never have married. Now he had a woman in his bedroom asleep, and despite all his damned commands, she held all the power.

  He’d learned about power exchange in order to feel in control—of himself and his life? And he had.

  Until Isabelle.

  He should have heeded his brother and not taken her home, but he’d listened to her sassy retorts, he’d looked into her eyes, and he’d been trapped. So here he was, sporting a hard-on the likes of which he’d never experienced, relief a couple of feet away, and he was doing something he’d never done before—depriving himself of what he wanted.

  Because what he wanted was more than her body. He wanted her soul. And she was clearly nowhere near ready to give it to him.

  His phone rang, and he answered without checking the caller ID. “Yeah.”

  “Good morning to you too, big brother.”

  “Lucy, what are you doing calling so early on the weekend?” If it was nine a.m. in New York, it was six a.m. in California.

  “My other brother called and said you’d lost your mind over a woman, so I’m calling for information.”

  Gabe rolled his eyes. “I haven’t lost my mind, Luce. Decklan exaggerates.”

  “Did you or did you not move her into my room?”

  “So that’s why you’re calling. You’re pissed you’re being displaced.”

  Lucy burst out laughing. “I could care less about that. And I’ll take that answer as a yes.” She let out a whoop of joy.

  “Tone it down,” he muttered.

  “Don’t go all bossy on me. I’m flying home to meet her.”

  Gabe shook his head. “You’ll do no such thing.” At least, not until he figured out what he was going to do with her.

  “I was coming anyway. There’s an island resort off the coast of Florida. It’s called Eden. How cool is that? You can only go there via invitation. It’s secluded, secretive, and exclusive, and we have the opportunity to open a nightclub there. I need to fill you in.”

  “Sounds intriguing,” he said, meaning it.

  “Oh, it is. Don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about it when I see you. And don’t worry, I’ll either stay with Decklan or get a room at one of our hotels.”

  He’d normally argue, but he didn’t want anyone intruding on his time with Isabelle. “Thanks,” he said to his sister.

  “Anytime.”

  “You okay?” he asked her.

  Lucy let out an exasperated breath. “Always. You don’t need to worry about me.” Her standard answer.

  He set his jaw. “I raised you—”

  “Hardly! I was sixteen when Mom and Dad died.”

  He swallowed hard. “Okay, then I got you through those horrid teenage years, with boys, dating, parties. You know, the hard shit.”

  “Oh yeah, you had to talk to me about sex and birth control.”

  “Someone did. Decklan sure as hell didn’t want to do it.”

  She giggled, sounding like she had that day. He’d cornered her by driving onto a highway and staying there until the painful talk ended.

  “I remember. And that means I owe you,” she said, her voice taking on a deeper, more serious tone. “So if you met a woman, I need to meet her too. Make sure she’s good enough for you.”

  His heart swelled. Lucy and Deck were the only people he still let himself love. Of course, they were family. Gabe had to love them.

  Then there was Isabelle.

  Chapter Nine

  Isabelle: Day of Reckoning

  I woke up alone in Gabe’s bed, conflicting emotions assailing me. On the one hand, I congratulated myself. I hadn’t had sex with Gabe. On the other, he hadn’t fucked me after proclaiming how much he wanted to … and if he’d wanted to, I wouldn’t have said no.

  I placated myself with the fact that last night I’d demanded and received answers to many if not all things pertaining to Gabe. I hadn’t been a man’s pushover this time. Score one for me. On the other hand, Gabe had commanded me to strip, told me to spread my legs open wide, and proceeded to slap me there. I’d not only allowed it, I’d come hard from the sensations. My cheeks burned, not just at the recollection but from the tingling between my thighs and the slick wetness there now.

  And finally, this enigmatic man, who claimed he never brought women to his room and always used a condom, said he did not want to use one with me. He couldn’t bear to have anything between us. Yet we hadn’t had sex, and I hadn’t seen him naked.

  And I was in his bed this morning, all alone.

  I shivered, my chills having less to do with the room temperature and everything to do with my current, naked state. As I slid from beneath the covers, I spotted a large tee shirt draped over a chaise lounge in the corner of the room. I shrugged and quickly covered myself.

  Feeling more comfortable, I retrieved my panties from the floor and pulled them on before scooping up the rest of my clothing and heading for the door. I peeked out, then tiptoed across the hall, grateful I didn’t run into Gabe or his housekeeper on the way. A shower and clothing would go a long way toward providing me with armor to face the day, not to mention the man himself.

  An hour later, clean, blow-dried, dressed, and wearing makeup I’d borrowed from his sister, I braced myself and headed for th
e kitchen, only to find myself still alone.

  When the telephone rang, I jumped, the sound startling me before I realized it wasn’t the phone but the intercom for the doorman downstairs. I didn’t plan to answer, but the ringing was insistent, and I finally caved, lifting the receiver. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Masters?”

  I wrinkled my nose. Either the doorman remembered me or Gabe had informed him I was staying here. “Yes?”

  “There’s a gentleman down here with suitcases he says are for you.”

  Lance? I wondered, my heart thudding inside my chest. Gabe had insisted he send over my things. I needed them desperately if I didn’t want to spend the little money I had. If Lance had brought the check Gabe demanded, even better. But Gabe wasn’t here as backup, and I had to wonder if Lance really would cave so easily.

  It didn’t matter, I decided. I couldn’t rely on Gabe, or any one else, to deal with my ex for me. No more running, I reminded myself. I’d face him.

  “Send him up, please.” I hung up and smoothed my shaking hand over my wild hair.

  A loud knock sounded on the door.

  I entered the hall and faced the man I’d walked out on. His blond hair was slicked back, his blue eyes like ice and very cold. He’d dressed for the occasion in navy slacks and a button-down dress shirt, and his gaze raked over my sweats and tee shirt, a disgusted frown on the face I’d once considered handsome. That was before I had Gabe’s dark visage as a counterpoint.

  He stared without commenting.

  I gripped the doorframe. “Where are my bags?” I looked beyond him but didn’t see a cart or luggage behind Lance or in his hand.

  “Did you really think I’d roll over just because the man you’re currently whoring yourself for ordered me to?”

  I narrowed my gaze. I should have known this wouldn’t go smoothly. Should have suggested he leave my things downstairs. “No bags? Then I have nothing to say.”