“Now scoot into the middle of the table and lie down.”
Surprising herself, she wiggled back, cool polished wood beneath her bare buttocks.
He removed his jacket, folded it, then placed it underneath her head as a pillow. The scent of him, power and demand, clung to the material.
In his shirtsleeves, the cufflinks winking in the overhead light, he loomed broader, more intimidating.
“Show me how you masturbate.”
Despite the knot of nerves in her stomach threatening to make her jump up and run for her clothes, she reached a hand between her legs. The first, barest brush against her clit made tension crash through her. His touch, his instructions, his dominance, had her dangling on the edge.
“Beautiful. Keep going.”
She closed her eyes, trying to lose herself in the experience, but he interrupted, saying, “I want to see your expression.”
Swallowing a sigh, she opened her eyes. Seeing him watching over her, arms folded like an aristocrat, heightened the naughtiness.
“Part your labia with your left hand.”
She turned her head, then brought it back to center right away.
“At least you won’t need to be spanked for that.”
His sensual threat sent arousal through her.
“You asked whether I’m a sadist. I have to admit I can’t banish the thought of slapping your cunt, making it red and swollen.”
She would have said that was on her limits list, yet she suddenly wanted to experience the burn.
“Spank it for me.”
Hope blinked him into focus. “What?”
“I was going to have you do it once. We’ll make it three times since you hesitated.” When she didn’t react right away, “Shall we make it four?”
“No. No…” She shook her head.
“Five!”
She bit her lower lip as she eased her right hand away from her clit.
“Now six.”
Hope squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of the pain as she tapped her pussy once.
“That didn’t count.” Humor laced his voice. “Hold your labia apart.”
“But that will hurt.”
“That’s rather the point, sweet Hope.”
She did what he had said and gave herself another soft spank.
“We may be here all night if I wait for you.” He blazed her cunt with his hand, and she screamed, opening her eyes to glare at him.
Fuck.
“Rub it.”
He stunned her by bending to lick her cunt, sucking on her clit, then pinching it until it was hard.
She screamed again, on the verge of an orgasm.
“You could come right now, couldn’t you?”
Hope squirmed. “Yes.” She could, and it loomed so close it hurt.
“Not yet.”
Why the hell had she told him her deepest secret? It was sexy but frustrating beyond words.
“Put both of your hands on your legs and count backward from ninety-nine to one.”
It didn’t help.
“Out loud.”
Her voice and uneven breaths filled the room. When she reached fifty-seven, the air conditioner clicked on and her overheated skin began to cool, but the need to climax hadn’t diminished.
Unconsciously she squeezed her legs together, hoping to ease the discomfort.
“Legs apart.”
Did he see everything? She gritted her teeth as she spread her thighs.
“Your cunt isn’t even swollen. I must not have hit you very hard.”
“It didn’t feel that way to me.”
“You were at forty-six, and I didn’t give you permission to stop counting.”
“Yes, Rafe.”
“I may make a recording of you saying that. It’s intoxicating.”
“Forty-five.”
His soft laugh wrapped her in intimacy.
When she reached ten, he used two fingers to spread her labia. She arched her back, aroused all over again.
“Clamps would work, but since I don’t have any, we’ll do this for now.”
“This is fine.”
“I’m sorry?”
His voice was a whiplash.
“This is fine, Rafe.”
“I guessed that would be your response.”
His approval sent shivers through her. The power of his tone shocked her, and her continued craving for his approval made her reel.
“Now, sweet Hope, spank your pussy six times without stopping. Make them real, make them count, or we will begin again.” He spread his fingers wider, making her whimper. “If you choose not to, I will take over. I can make you a promise that you won’t like it if I do.”
She believed him.
Summoning courage, her insides in turmoil, she delivered six stinging slaps to her pussy. Then she dropped her hand to her side as tears burned her eyes.
He remained in place, keeping her pussy on display, and air caressed her damp skin. The pain receded right away, but her clit pulsed with demand.
“How close are you to orgasm?”
“Very,” she confessed. The mention of it made her tummy tighten.
He stroked between her legs, making her tremble. Then he delved inside her pussy. She thrashed, wanting to escape, wanting more.
“Rafe…” She lifted her head from the soft pillow he’d created. “Sir!”
He pulled away.
She collapsed again and would have rolled onto her side to escape if he hadn’t placed a hand on her chest to trap her in place.
“Is this sadism?” he asked, voice soft and inviting. “I’m causing you distress and it’s arousing me. Deliberate infliction of pain, and it’s the best drug on the planet.”
She finally understood the complexity of his question. Her pussy had blazed when he spanked her, but he had left behind a cascade of demand.
“I want you to place your heels flat on the table so that you can lift your pelvis up.”
“We’re not finished?”
“On the contrary, Hope. We’ve barely started.”
He’d already shattered her boundaries.
Her whole body shuddered as she lifted her buttocks and braced herself. With a firm grip, he took hold of each ankle and repositioned her feet so that they were uncomfortably far apart. Humiliation lanced her as she was exposed, her pussy all but in his face.
“Your skin is red. My favorite color. I love how swollen your flesh is. Please play with your nipples.”
She shook her head to clear it.
“I won’t ask twice.”
That terrible tone was back, reverberating with thunder.
The wood beneath her was uncomfortable, but playing with herself while he watched was even worse.
Legs wide in a commanding stance, he stood off to the side of her, removing his cufflinks and turning back his shirtsleeves. She’d never considered a man’s forearms to be sexy before, but his were.
He dropped the gold studs near her head. The design—an owl, framed in leaves—caught her eye for a moment. The bird’s emerald eyes flared. “Stay in position and continue to stimulate your breasts and nipples.”
His raised eyebrows indicated he was waiting for her affirmative response. Since her mouth was dry, her words were barely audible. “Yes, Rafe.” With him watching, her nipples were more responsive than ever, and her pussy dampened again.
“The scent of you is filling the room.”
She was too turned on to care.
He moistened his thumb and pressed it against her clit. It was still swollen from her spanks and from his brutal slap. In seconds, she was on the verge of an orgasm. Instead of continuing to toy with her, he slid two fingers deep inside her.
Her body weakened, and she dropped her rear to the table.
“Back into position. Concentrate on staying there.”
This time he didn’t help her, and she struggled to lift herself as she continued to pinch, then release her nipples. The orgasm he wouldn’t permit to
ok on a need of its own. In desperation, she moved her hips.
“I’ll make you wait even longer if you don’t heed my wishes.”
Damn him.
He slid in and out, finger-fucking her, obliterating all thought.
“Hope,” he snapped.
She was undone, unable to think or act.
He pulled out his fingers, and she whimpered.
“Do as you’re told.”
“You are a sadist.”
“You’re enjoying it,” he countered. “By your definition that would make you at least a little bit masochistic.”
“No! I hate this. I want to come.”
“Breathe through it. The worst part will pass.”
Dear heavens above, why had she ever mentioned orgasm denial?
Rafe gave her a few seconds longer to recover before gripping her ankles. He held them in place, offering some leverage. “Now back into position.”
Since she couldn’t escape and—thank God—he wasn’t touching her most sensual places, she exhaled a shuddering breath and somehow found the emotional and physical strength to force her hips off the table again.
“You’ve got the most gorgeous pussy.” He reinserted his finger and crooked it to find her G-spot.
Her legs quivered. “Rafe!”
“You can endure this.”
“No. No, no, no, no. No…no, I can’t.” Sweat slickened her body.
He moved away, and her overheated body chilled. The moment she recovered, he flattened her clit with his thumb and pushed a finger inside her. Then he took her arousal and used it as lube to press against her anus.
That was something she’d always worked up to with men, but with him it was logical. He seemed to have no sexual hang-ups, and because of that, she didn’t protest.
He worked his finger back and forth until it was seated in her ass.
Then with his other hand, he tormented her already abused pussy. A million sensations zinged through her. No man had ever brought her to this state.
“Tug on your nipples. I want them stretched out.”
She did, whimpering from the pain and tossing her head back and forth, desperate to escape the torture, and trying to hold the orgasm at bay.
When the edges unraveled, her vision blurring, he blazed her pussy with a slap that shattered the silence. She screamed as she came.
Hope wasn’t aware of him moving, but her buttocks collapsed against the table. Her ass burned and her pussy ached, and he swallowed her cries with a burning kiss that turned her inside out.
He trapped her hands, crushing her breasts against him. Rafe consumed her.
She wasn’t sure how long she lost sight of reality, but when she was able to breathe, he was cradling the side of her face with one of his hands.
He was smiling when he said, “You came without permission.”
She scowled. “Someone didn’t give me a choice, Sir.”
“It doesn’t mean the lapse won’t be punished.”
“Oh my God.” She struggled up onto her elbows. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am. Lapses mean correction, and you’re going to get a well-deserved spanking.” His statement was blunt, but there was tenderness in his eyes.
The disconnect between that and what they’d done perplexed her. “Is it always like this?”
“Like what?” He helped her to sit up, and he picked up his jacket, smoothed the wrinkles, then draped it around her shoulders.
“I don’t know…” She gathered the lapels and drew them together, partially to warm up, partially to hide from the vulnerabilities he’d exposed. “You’re gruff but thoughtful.”
“Maybe not in all relationships, but for me? Yes. I like this part of the BDSM dynamic. The aftercare. I want you to enjoy it as well. And there can be a hell of an emotional component to any scene, even a short one, resulting in a hormonal rush and crash.”
Too well, she understood what he was speaking about.
“It’s crucial the Dominant be there for the submissive as long as needed. When we play, I will ensure I take care of your needs.”
“That was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had.” It had been the difference between a rainstorm and a hurricane.
“Pleasing you is my greatest reward.”
“You say that as if you mean it.”
“I do. Now, for your spanking, would you like it at your house or mine?”
The hot desire that lashed her told her it would be a terrible mistake to spend more time with him. “Mr. Sterling—”
“After what we’ve shared?” His words were light, but a reprimand lay beneath.
She wrapped herself even tighter. “Rafe.” Using his first name created greater intimacy, as he no doubt wanted. “We shouldn’t go any further.”
“That’s fine. If you mean it, please use your safe word.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Damn him.
Spending more time together would be disastrous for her emotional state, yet her safe word lodged in her throat.
Rafe didn’t move away from her. His stance—feet rooted to the floor, arms folded—spoke of resolve, making it clear that he would wait as long as necessary for her to be honest with both of them.
After endless moments, she whispered, “No.”
“Let me take you to dinner. Then we can decide which house to go to.” He offered his hand.
After a short hesitation, she took it. He helped her from the table, and she stood in front of him, no longer client to vendor, but submissive to Dominant.
“I’ve spent plenty of time thinking of you since yesterday morning.” His voice was rough with gravel. “You’re everything I imagined.”
And he was more than she’d dared to dream about.
Since the table was smudged from her feet, buttocks, and the shattering orgasm, she said, “I need to clean it.”
“You could leave it for the morning.” His grin was cheeky, a contrast to how serious he was a few moments before. “The reminder will be a nice start for your day.”
With her luck, Tony or Skyler would arrive first and they’d know what she’d done in the office. There would be dozens of questions that she didn’t want to answer. “No, thanks.” On unsteady, bare feet, she pulled out a soft cloth and furniture polish from a storage cabinet.
He plucked his jacket from her shoulders and draped it across the back of a chair.
No way was she cleaning the room nude with him standing there. She froze. “I’ll meet you in the reception area.” Where her belongings were scattered on the floor.
“I prefer to watch.”
An hour prior, she would have bet money that she would not be naked in front of one of her clients. More, she would have scoffed at the idea that she’d allow him to drive her to a soul-splintering orgasm.
Hope’s heart slammed, and she exhaled. With quiet power, Rafe had exerted his will, and she’d yielded, not because he overwhelmed her, but because her own scandalous behavior had been unusual and thrilling.
She picked up his cufflinks. Though they were a pair, the designs were mismatched. One was engraved with an odd-shaped Z. The other, the owl with gemstones for eyes, she’d seen when he took them off. The same symbols were probably on his ring. She traced the lightning-like Z pattern. “This is unusual. Do they have special meaning to you?”
“It represents the Zeta Society.”
“The…” Hope blinked. She’d heard of it, in shadowy terms. A few years ago, she’d come across an article in her favorite online magazine. Most of the quoted sources had been anonymous, and she’d learned that the organization had been formed in the nineteenth century, and they had thousands of members worldwide.
The initiation fee was reported to be five figures, with burdensome dues. Despite that, the wait list to join was years long. The society supposedly owned an estate on the banks of the Mississippi River in Louisiana. The reporter had asked for an invitation to the yearly meeting, dubbed the Oak Valley Gathering. Their denial hadn�
�t deterred him. Instead of entering through the gate, he’d snuck over a fence. Before being apprehended by security, he’d gotten as far as spying on the bonfire that was the ceremonial opening of the event.
Rafe was studying her.
“You’re a Titan?” The moniker had been bestowed almost a century prior by an intrepid reporter who saw a group of prominent society members gathered in New Orleans. In his newspaper coverage, he called the men Titans, and the name had stuck.
Rafe remained silent for a few more moments. “One of my ancestors, John Sterling, was a founding member.”
The information was a lot to take in, and she wouldn’t have met him, except for… “Celeste.” Her mentor’s words echoed… “There are others.” At the time, Hope had assumed that meant BDSM adherents. Had Celeste been referring to the Titans? “Is Celeste also a member?”
“I’ve already said too much.”
“I see.” That was a lie. She didn’t understand at all. “So, your wife… Do I need to know about this for finding you a bride?”
“No. Any woman I marry will be made aware of the Zeta Society when it’s appropriate.”
Hope stroked the lines of one of the laurel wreaths.
“The owl represents wisdom.”
“It looks like Athena’s owl. From mythology.”
“I’m sure it is. The founders were familiar with Greek traditions from their time at university.”
“How long have you been a member?”
“Since I turned eighteen. It’s tradition. Not every Sterling joins. But the vast majority do.”
“Including women?”
“We started admitting them at least half a century ago.”
“Very progressive.” She offered him the cufflink. “This is all very cloak-and-dagger.”
“Secret, yes. Nefarious? Not at all. We exist so that people from all over the world have a place to gather and have discussions away from the glaring eye of the press as we talk about ways to make the world a better place.”
“Are you going to make me sign some sort of blood oath so I don’t go to the press?”
“You’re a smart woman, Hope. I trust you.”
They both knew she’d be out of the matchmaking business with no prospects if she didn’t maintain her clients’ confidentiality.
Billionaire's Matchmaker (Titans) Page 7
