“So you lied to cover it up?”
Trust her to put it so baldly. “Yes. That sounds reprehensible, doesn’t it?”
“A bit. But it also makes you more human. I hate making mistakes, too.”
He didn’t much like her saying that, seeing that in him, except that she seemed easier now, smiling a touch more. “I’m not...I mean, I understand that.”
She cocked her head, as if listening intently to a sound beyond his hearing. “That wasn’t what you started to say. What aren’t you?”
“I stopped saying it for a reason.” Damn her and her insights anyway.
“And now you’re defensive. This is fascinating.” She folded her arms on the table, dark eyes sparkling, and leaned in. “You’re not what—human?”
“Funny girl. No, I’m human, which I’d be delighted to demonstrate to you in any number of ways as soon as you select one of the penetration options.”
“Trying to rattle me. Taking the upper hand and using sexual taunts to distract me.”
He put down his fork. “What are you after, Celestina?”
Unintimidated, she narrowed her eyes. “For the moment I want to know what you were about to say that you’re not.”
Feeling absurdly cornered, he cast about for a likely answer, but she discerned that, too.
“Don’t lie to me. I’ll know.”
An echo of his words from last night. He shoved his plate aside and leaned in also. “Did you have an orgasm?”
She gave nothing away, not even a flicker. “We’re not talking about me. Stop dodging the answer. Every time you do just makes me more determined to find out what you’re trying so hard to hide.”
A totally new face of her, this dogged interrogator. Having fun, too, by the glint in her dark eyes. Unfortunately at his expense. “All I was going to say is that I’m not...” He had to pause for a breath. Ridiculous. “I’m not comfortable with being flawed.”
She eyed him with interest and perhaps a hint of compassion. “Why was that so difficult to say? We’re all flawed in some way.”
“Yes, well—I don’t care to be. I’ve worked assiduously to eliminate my flaws and become a better person.”
“Better than what?”
He dragged his plate back and took another bite, gave her an annoyed look that did nothing to change her expression of determined interest. “Than I used to be. Is this inquisition over?”
“You use a lot of five-star words. Why is that—English major?”
Apparently not over. “Why all these questions?”
“It occurs to me that I might feel better talking with you frankly—which was your suggestion, by the way—and doing...these things with you if I know you better.”
“And knowing why I have an extensive vocabulary will do that?”
She lifted a shoulder and smiled, this one very nearly as dazzling as the one she’d bestowed on the waiter. As he grew more tense, she relaxed. Wonderful.
“Yes. This whole conversation is helping. It’s kind of nice to see you not in perfect control.”
“I like perfect control.”
“I’ve noticed.” Her voice tinged with the huskiness of the night before, when she’d pleaded with him.
“Better, I like being in control of you. I’m waiting for an answer to my question.”
She started to lick her bottom lip, picked up her wine, sipping to cover it. Or to wet a mouth gone dry. “Then tell me this one thing and we can get to that.”
What could it hurt to tell her? He rarely—okay, never—discussed his youth with anyone, but if this was what she needed to reestablish the trust he’d cracked with his carelessness...”I read the dictionary.”
She laughed and abruptly sobered. “Seriously?”
Oh right—this reaction was why he hadn’t wanted to say. “Yes. At the library. I grew up in a very small town with a miniscule library, where I spent hours every day. I read all the books they had, many of them several times. Including the set of ancient Oxford English Dictionaries.”
Lips parted, she gazed at him. Clearly reassessing her ideas of who he was. Uncomfortable, he focused on eating the prawns. A meal his younger self couldn’t have imagined, much less afforded. Extraordinary that he’d told her that much.
“Why did you have so many hours to spend there?”
“No.” Resolute, he pinned her with his most dominating stare. “Your turn. Answer my question.”
She flushed. “Which question?”
“Now who’s dodging? Did you have an orgasm, Celestina?”
“I don’t see why I have to tell you that either way.”
“So that’s a yes.”
“No, that’s an ‘I don’t think I have to share that with you.’”
“Afraid?” He drew the word out, taunting her with it. Definitely better to be the one in control of the conversation.
She glared at him. “Should I be?”
“If you disobeyed me, then yes. Because you know what’s next.”
* * *
Just like that, he had her in an emotional puddle again. Completely flustered and, ridiculously, given the context, totally aroused. Why this got to her made no sense at all. Her brain fought against the absurdity of him ordering her to tell him such a private thing, one that he had no business knowing or controlling. Every other organ, however, thrilled to each bit of it. Her skin tingled with anticipation, her breasts swelling and nipples hardening. Her heart thrummed, pulsing blood to her groin, where she’d gone wet.
Where the early tremors of a climax lurked, an impossibility as nothing could stimulate her. Still, he watched her with those penetrating silvery eyes, the harshness of his face giving him a stern look that made her want to beg him to punish her. What he’d confided to her had been astounding, the puzzle pieces of him reassembling in her head. The scars might be from chicken pox, not acne. The badly set nose a sign of a poor childhood. Hours in the library—a free and safe place for a child to go.
“I’m going to assume that your lack of denial is a confession and make any punishment you choose twice as severe because you failed to admit it,” he said in a soft, warning tone.
If he’d intended to yank her attention away from thinking about his history—a distinct possibility, given how uncomfortable he’d been talking about it—that worked. Her face had gone hot and she squirmed on her chair, then stopped herself when a smile flickered over his firm lips. A cruel smile, full of anticipation that made her thickening desire even worse.
“Are you done with your salad? Would you like dessert?” He made the offer cordially, but the danger lurked beneath his silky tone.
“N-no.” Dammit that she stammered in her nerves. “I’m fine.”
“Let’s go then. We can finish this conversation in private.” He stood and held out a hand, commanding her obedience. Which absolutely worked, to her chagrin, as she took it and stood.
“Don’t you have to pay?”
“I run a tab here.”
Of course he did.
They entered the elevator and he pressed the button for the lobby. Before they’d gone a few floors, however, he pressed the stop button. And turned on her. Before she realized what he was about, he’d taken her wrists and raised them above her head, holding them in a tight grip and staring into her eyes, his gone sharp as silver knives.
“Tell me, Celestina.”
She pressed her lips firmly on the admission. Wanting to press her aching breasts against his hard chest, needing to part her legs and beg him to fuck her. Where this person, this completely wanton slut version of herself had come from, she had no idea. But Ryan seemed to be able to reach into her soul and drag this woman out with a flick of one demanding finger, one casually uttered order.
The alarm began to shriek.
“People will come,” she said, struggling to free herself. A mistake, as his face hardened with desire. You struggle so beautifully.
“Yes, they will. Shall I strip you out of this dress and pet you so they’ll find you naked and panting with desire?”
“You can’t. I haven’t opted in.”
“Maybe I won’t follow the rules, since you aren’t. Tell me or I’ll do it. You know I can.”
Despite her struggles, he easily transferred her wrists to grip them in one big hand. Reached for the zipper of her dress with the other and began tugging it down.
“Yes!” she shouted at him. “Okay? Yes, I had a stupid orgasm.”
He stopped pulling down the zipper, but kept his finger on the tab. “When?”
“On the drive home,” she admitted, feeling terribly exposed.
“Did you put your hand inside your panties?”
“Yes.” She focused on his shoulder, the triangle of red silk in his suit jacket pocket. Just like the one he’d handed her to clean his semen from her naked breasts. Not a sight to calm herself with. “Please turn off the alarm.”
“Of course.” He let her go and started the elevator again, all urbane gentleman, as if she had but to ask and he’d grant her least desire.
The elevator opened on the building lobby and she stepped out, feeling more than a little wobbly. He stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Just a moment. Your zipper seems to have slipped.” Sliding it back up the couple of inches, he then offered her his arm. “Come sit in my car with me for a moment. I imagine you drove here?”
Mute, she nodded. She should run screaming, not get into the car with this man who seemed to be able to make her do anything. He held the door for her, told the driver just to circle the neighborhood, and settled himself beside her. Then took her hand, studying her face.
“Tell me the rest.”
“There isn’t anything else to tell. I didn’t mean to do it. I was driving and—”
“Not that. Engrossing as it is to imagine you unable to restrain yourself. Tell me what had you so upset about all of this. You said you don’t know how to handle things like what we did last night. You were going to be more specific about it.”
She nearly laughed at the way he rearranged the conversation to suit his interpretation. “No, you told me to be more specific and I hadn’t yet decided on what or how much to tell you.”
“Tell me everything. I want to know everything about you.”
“Just like you’ll tell me everything about yourself?”
His jaw hardened at that, a flicker of the cornered vulnerability he’d shown before in his eyes before he chased it off. “That’s not how this works, Celestina.”
“Why do you always call me by my full name? Everyone else shortens to Tina.”
“Because I love your name. It perfectly embodies you. Heavenly. Now, stop this eternal dodging and explain to me what you’re having difficulty handling so we can address it and move forward.”
She blew out a long breath, which shook and rattled as it left her lungs. “These things aren’t easy for me to talk about.”
“Sex?”
“In a nutshell, yes. But...especially your kind.”
“Take your time then. Close your eyes and tell me, if that helps.”
Oddly, it did help. But the nervous wings still beat in her stomach. “Would you...would you kiss me?”
With a low hum of assent, he gathered her into his arms and his mouth brushed over hers, the sensation both more acute and dreamier for having her eyes closed. He kissed her long, with thorough gentleness, the frantic wings slowing into a deeper, sensual beating.
“Better?” he asked, drawing away, but still holding her.
“Better.” Without opening her eyes, she felt her way through it. “The things that happened last night—I liked them. A lot. Since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about wanting more. The things you said to me, wanting to see me struggle, wanting to punish me. Chains and having me delivered to you. I want it, too. Not because of the money, but because something about it makes me...” A tremor rattled her, throat going dry. He didn’t say anything. Just held her loosely, rubbing her back. “I want them—the dark things. And I don’t understand why.”
“Do you have to understand?”
“Shouldn’t I? These aren’t normal, healthy things to want.”
“People do, though. Who gets to say what’s healthy and normal? Going most of your life not enjoying sex is hardly normal and healthy.”
She opened her eyes to find his face close, gray eyes thoughtful. Not laughing at her as she’d expected. “I enjoyed sex.” Sometimes.
“Like you did last night?”
“No. That’s what concerns me. Those things...it’s like I want them in a harder way, a craving.” Uncertain, she lifted her hands to his chest, needing the contact. His chest hair crinkled under his crisp dress shirt, skin hot beneath.
“Craving isn’t a bad thing, Celestina.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that strongly about anything before. I’m not sure what to do with feeling this way.” With feeling at all, after all the numbness. “I don’t know why I find the idea of you punishing me so...titillating. How I can be both afraid and starving for it to happen.”
Chapter Sixteen
His eyes glittered, though he kept his hands gentle. Oh, he wanted that, all right. As if he starved for it also. “Being afraid of something is sometimes the reason we need to do it.”
“I can see that, but it seems so...self-destructive.” Which might be at the core of it. A part of her had stood back and recognized this trend in herself. The suicidal impulses. The depression. The insistent thought that she had been meant to die with Ara just as they’d been born together.
She was a mess. And this sojourn into perversion might be just another level of it. Another way of losing herself, with the money a convenient rationalization.
“I want you to listen to me.” He stroked her cheek, waiting until she met his gaze. “It’s the opposite of self-destructive because it’s all part of the trip. It’s not real, Celestina. Self-destruction is putting yourself in the way of real violence. This kind of punishment is pain, yes, but artfully, even lovingly applied. Some people think that we crave it to work out suffering we wouldn’t be able to bear in real life. Perhaps you feel some sort of profound guilt and you believe, on a subconscious level, that you deserve to suffer for it. This lets you suffer in a way that’s also cathartic, that won’t cause you real, lasting harm. It could be that your subconscious self knows and understands this, and thus is the source of your craving.”
Profound guilt. Oh yes. That hit home. “Pretty deep.”
He smiled, a slight, wry twist. “I read more than the dictionary.”
Letting the ideas he’d offered percolate, she searched his face in turn, contemplating the few hints he’d dropped. “And for you—it’s the opportunity to be in control, to unleash violence without causing real harm?”
He looked unexpectedly stricken, a desperate shadow to him that she’d seen at the table when she goaded him into telling her about reading the dictionary. “Perhaps so,” he finally acknowledged. “Besides the fact that having you entirely at my mercy is a fantasy I can’t get out of my brain.”
Evading her. Pulling back from the same boggy emotional territory he insisted she wade into. But she’d let him, for the time being. “All right then,” she whispered, feeling the twin surges of elation and terror. “I came without permission. Punish me for it.”
His hands flexed, a flare of triumph and hard-edged desire in his face. “I’ll adjust the tablet accordingly. Tonight?”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m spending the evening with the gir
ls and taking them shopping tomorrow. I might...I thought I’d see if they wanted to stay with friends tomorrow night. Then I could...I wouldn’t have to get home. If that’s all right with you.”
“Having you all night would almost make up for you making me wait for this. I’d have time to do so much more to you. To take you apart the way I crave to do.”
“After the spankings, the oral sex?” she joked, trying to shake off the nerves at his electric intensity.
His mouth twitched, but he didn’t smile in truth. Instead he stroked her lower lip with his thumb, making her think he envisioned her lips wrapped around his cock again. Inadvertently, she imagined it, too, how thick and blunt it had been, like his fingers. Filling her mouth. How it would feel filling her elsewhere. “Oh yes,” he said, in an almost reverent tone. “And all the other kinds as well. Whatever you find the courage to give me permission to do.”
With his thumb, he tugged her lower lip ever so slightly, sending an arrow of answering need to her groin. “But you’ll see when you look—I can punish you fully clothed, without giving you any pleasure. This will be your punishment. Choose carefully.”
“I’ll consider that, but...” She hesitated yet again, not certain how much of her dark thoughts she should confide. Exceptionally silly as she sat here calmly discussing how she’d trust him with far more. He watched her with calm understanding, his savagery cloaked, his hands steadying. “I don’t know how to say this.”
“Just say it. You can’t shock me.”
A comfort in that to be sure. “I want all of it. I want to be...what you said. In your power and for you to, ah, well, possess me.” Her cheeks flamed hot she felt sure, but he didn’t mock her or even change expression so much except that his eyes went more heavy-lidded.
“I can do that,” he murmured, his tone as caressing as his hands. “The difficulty will be waiting until tomorrow night.”
“And it might not be tomorrow,” she cautioned. “It depends on what the girls are up to.”
“I could arrange something for them.”
“No. I mean—thank you. But not yet. Let me see how it works out first. If—if it does work out tomorrow...can we be alone in the house?”
Under Contract Page 14
