by Qwillia Rain
She bypassed the desk and headed for the file cabinets and the table along the wall behind the desk. It was possible it had fallen out after she'd set her pack down and fished out the change she'd brought from the bank. The fact that she'd required her new toy last night when she returned home only made her grumble louder. The vibrator she kept in the drawer beside her bed was okay, but the device she'd picked up the day before was much more suitable to meet the cravings Ariel had experienced since Dane's arrival.
“Not that he has anything whatsoever to do with… that.” She spotted the brown paper bag tucked between the two file cabinets. She reached for it, dragged it out, and opened the bag.
Peering inside, she grinned.
The blue color of the toy had reminded her of Dane's eyes, and she'd judged the size to be close to his proportions. She couldn't suppress the giggle that rose to her lips, when she imagined the expression on Dane's face if he were to find this little gem stashed in the office. The giggle grew to a laugh. “I should tuck it into one of the drawers simply to see what he does,” she told the empty room.
Heat flared between her hips, then drizzled lower. Images floated through her mind at the thought of Dane finding the toy. The suggestion he'd made about the ball gag would be mild in comparison to what he might say about the bright blue vibrator. The ache from the previous evening returned and wiped the smile from Ariel's lips. Her breathing increased, and the beat of her heart sped up at the wicked thought of Dane using the toy on her.
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Would he use it to tease? Perhaps he'd make soft, gentle strokes over her mound before he slid it inside. Or maybe he'd start slow but pick up the pace, thrusting faster and harder until she couldn't stop her climax.
In her hand, the paper bag rattled. The weight of the lubricant and batteries pulled at her fingers; her mind taunted her with the temptation to see how well the toy could satisfy.
Taking a deep breath, she proceeded to the sofa, dropped onto the cushion, and leaned against the backrest. The scent of cardamom and rosemary whispered in the air around her, making her moan and squeeze her eyes shut.
Her head sank deeper into the back of the sofa, which only intensified the smell. She rolled her head to the side and realized the scent wasn't part of her imagination; it came from the black leather car coat Dane had worn into the café the previous afternoon.
Bag and vibrator abandoned in her lap, she dragged the coat from behind her and buried her face in it. Her nipples strained at her bra; her panties grew wet from the response of her body.
Need coiled in her abdomen and pulsed in the emptiness of her pussy.
“God, this is insane,” she growled. But she didn't hesitate to set his coat aside and rip open the toy's packaging. “It's crazy,” she told herself and stumbled into the bathroom to rinse the vibrator beneath the tap.
She gazed into the mirror and noted the flush in her cheeks, the dazed look in her eyes, but it didn't deter her. The hunger was too intense, too encompassing. If she didn't deal with it now, she doubted she'd be able to concentrate on any of the cooking or supply orders she'd hoped to process today.
She smoothed a towel over the blue tube, set the vibrator and towel aside, and stripped out of her clothes. She left them in a neatly folded pile on the sink and returned to the office.
She gave in to the urge to slide the coat over her naked body. The cool silk lining caressed her skin; her nipples crinkled tighter. She hugged the jacket close and absorbed Dane's essence from the garment. Her shaking fingers shoved buttons through holes, surrounding herself with the fantasy of Dane's heat enfolding her.
The jacket's sleeves hung over the tips of her fingers, and the hem nearly reached her knees. The difference in their heights only made her grin. Fingers fumbling, she ripped open the battery packaging, inserted some into the vibrator, and set the rest aside. She unsealed the lubricant. The pop of the cap was loud in the room. She kept the coat between her bottom and the sofa cushion as she sat down. Her hand shook as she drizzled the clear gel onto the blue toy.
After placing the bottle on the coffee table beside the batteries, she smoothed the lubricant over the thick blue shaft.
She drew a deep breath. “Oh God, am I really going to do this?” she asked, although the answer resounded in her head and through her body. Fuck yes! Head resting on the seat cushion, she swallowed and eased the vibrator between her thighs. The feel of the slick tip on her mound made her jump.
She reached down with her other hand to hold herself open. Her fingers growing wet with her juices, Ariel worked slowly. She eased the vibrator deeper with a gasp. Her body pulsed around the rubber and plastic wand. Whimpers and moans slid past her lips, but she wasn't aware of what she might be saying, if anything. Her sole focus was the wonderful fullness inside her.
Her heart pounded in her chest. The breath rasped in and out of her lungs as she arched upward. Her fingers twisted the base, and the motor engaged. Against her eyelids, she could see An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
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him leaning over her, his broad shoulders glistening with sweat. His cocky grin taunted her. The heavy thrust of his cock filling her for the first time. “Oh God. Fuck. Dane, please!” She gasped and cried. She began to work the wand in and out, striving to satisfy the fire curled in her womb as the ache gripped the tight nipples on her breast and the coil of arousal twisted in her gut.
Her free hand drifted upward, stroked over the supple leather of Dane's car coat, preserving the fantasy that it was his thick cock working in and out of her pussy. Upward her hand climbed, slipping buttons free, baring her belly and breasts, and smoothing over both. Eyes squeezed tightly shut, Ariel tried to convince her body it was Dane's calloused fingertips sliding over her skin and his thick, hot fingers plucking at her nipples. She increased the thrust of the vibrator inside her channel. “Yes, oh yes, Dane. There, please,” she babbled. Her voice echoed in the silent room.
Only she and the blue toy fucking her knew who she wanted cradled against her hips, pounding at her slit, filling her. How her body ached to have him ride her, his possession of her relentless, his stamp of ownership blatantly obvious, even if she trembled at the thought of bearing it. No damned way would she confess to the sexual urges Dane stirred in her. At least not to his face. And not without a fight.
* * *
If he weren't aware of why Ariel continued to play her little game of “I'm the boss,” Dane would have taken her over his knee a few more times since he'd started to work at the café. It didn't help that Jordan had taken up the slack for both Logan's work and now some of Dane's.
“He's definitely earned some time off,” Dane muttered as he parked in front of Valerian's Root and climbed out of his car. “In the last week the man has gone from assistant to full-time jack-of-all-work. It's a damned good thing we can count on him.”
Dane wasn't worried Jordan would suddenly abscond with their clients' money or confidential information; both Logan and he had attended high school with Jordan's parents. In fact, Samuel Bishop was the first man to request Logan's aid in discovering the strength in a D/s relationship.
“I'm more concerned Logan'll have to bail me out for assault,” Dane griped as he unlocked the café's front door and crossed to the alarm. The warning ring failed to go off. Twisting the lock closed, he wondered if Ariel simply had forgotten to set the alarm the night before. Despite his irritation, he realized he should have stayed—whether Ariel wanted him there or not; it was his responsibility to see she made it home okay. Ayerstown might seem like a sleepy suburb when compared to some of the larger cities like Plaxton and Richland an hour's drive away, but it still experienced crime. And no man would leave his woman—or any woman—unprotected to walk home in the evening.
If he disregarded the tough facade Ariel projected, she was still nearly a foot shorter than him and could easily be overpowered. “Don't jump to insane conclusions all because she forgot to set the alarm,” Dane argued i
n a whisper. “Considering the steam rolling off of her when I left last night, I wouldn't be surprised if she forgot to lock the doors.”
Which didn't bode well for the leather jacket he'd left behind in his haste the evening before. The car coat was one of his favorites, and he'd been over halfway home when he remembered it was draped over the back of the sofa in Alayna's office.
“I wouldn't put it past her to stuff the pockets with some of the contents of the composting bin.” An organic farm that supplied a great deal of Ariel's fresh fruits and vegetables used 38
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chemical-free compost for fertilization and offered discounts to companies that provided food waste materials. Ariel was nothing if not efficient in collecting leftover raw and cooked foods to send to the farm.
Retribution would be required if Ariel had stooped to such a petty revenge. Dane grinned as he visualized the punishment he'd mete out. Clamps for her plump little nipples, leather cuffs for her ankles and wrists, and a long, sweaty session on the St. Andrew's cross in Room Seven at the mansion. One lash for every pithy word she'd uttered in the last four days since he had spanked her. His jeans pulled tight over his growing erection at the thought of how pink and warm her ass would be when he finished with the flogger.
With his mind bounding between what vicious revenge she might take out on his coat and how badly he'd like to teach her to enjoy surrendering to him, it took a moment for the sounds coming from the office to register. Once they did, Dane paused in the hall. Were he in the mansion, where it was possible to run across random sexual encounters, the noises filtering out into the hall would have made sense. But the throaty moans and the creak of leather against leather baffled Dane.
He closed his eyes and visualized the office as he'd left it the day before.
The desk took up the majority of the space. It faced the door and butted up against the wall on the right with the battered chair tucked under it and two four-drawer filing cabinets in the corner. A narrow table was snug against the filing cabinets and held the requisite all-in-one copier/fax/printer, postage machine, and a coffeepot. Built-in bookshelves covered the rest of the back wall, while a beat-up leather sofa and solid oak coffee and end tables occupied what remained of the floor space. A ladder-back chair faced the desk and a flat-screen television was mounted on the wall to the left of the door. Other than the possibility of someone watching adult movies, Dane couldn't believe what he was hearing.
If Logan had slipped in on Alayna in the office, Dane could imagine a little hot-and-heavy petting going on, but Dane had seen them at the estate a half an hour ago, sound asleep in Logan's bedroom—Alayna in the bed and Logan in a chair nearby. Hell, the sun had barely crested the horizon when he'd pulled his car into a parking space along the street in front of the café.
He kept his footsteps quiet on the hallway's tiled floor, reached the open door, and looked in. Ariel occupied the sofa, with his leather jacket wrapped around her. One hand caressed her body, while the other rocked against her sex. Squeezing his eyes shut, he smothered the surprised curse that tried to escape his lips. He so didn't need this on top of all the shit he had to deal with at home, but he opened his eyes, wanting to look again.
God, she looked good. He had wondered if the ivory skin of her face covered her entire body. Now he knew it did. It was arousing to see how smooth it was, especially in contrast to the black of his coat, the only clothing covering her as she sprawled across the cushions of the sofa.
The wet slide and low hum of a vibrator competed with her raspy breaths. The length of his coat hid the juncture of her thighs, but the soft, full mounds of her breasts were visible. One tiny hand—the nails short, but neatly trimmed and clean—palpated a pink-tipped globe before she gripped the taut peak and tugged on it.
“Yes, oh yes, Dane. There, please.”
His erection throbbed in response to the sound of her throaty voice calling his name, and satisfaction spread through his chest. Both his hands gripped the door frame until his knuckles showed white, but he forced himself to watch her. The commands and soft pleas for release that An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
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whispered through the room could barely be heard as she rocked the vibrator in and out of her wet cunt. Fast, then slow—she didn't seem to know which rhythm worked best. Her hips arched, and her head pressed deep into the cushion, but he could tell climax eluded her.
Your clit, he wanted to tell her. Forget the fucking nipple and play with your clit, Ariel. But she couldn't hear his thoughts, and he wasn't about to shatter the scene by speaking aloud.
Frustration throbbed through her voice. Dane wondered if the ancient piece of furniture would withstand the press of her bare feet against its arm. She must have spent an extended period of time trying to reach climax, because her body glistened with sweat. Her thighs were coated with her juices, which had probably stained the lining of his coat, but her body fought her efforts.
Finally, with her limbs shaking with exhaustion and not climax, she stiffened, then dropped onto the cushions and was still.
“Damn it, damn it, damn it.” Her voice was a scratchy croak; her disappointment was evident as she pulled the vibrator from her body, switched it off, and then let it slip to the floor.
She curled onto her side, facing the back of the sofa, pulled her knees to her chest, and tugged the coat tighter around her. “Shit. Fucking useless.”
Dane eased his hold on the doorway. His gaze stayed locked on Ariel's body as her muttered curses dwindled to soft snores.
Maybe Alayna wasn't the only Valerian who required assistance. Despite her rigid refusal to bend, Ariel had the capacity for explosive sexual power. He had read the intensity in her every motion. In the same way he recognized the submissive in her older sister, Dane knew Ariel carried a depth of passion as yet untapped. Whether as a submissive or a dominatrix, he was still unsure, but he was intrigued about finding a way to unleash that part of her.
Careful to make no noise, Dane moved to stand over the sofa, looking down at her sweat-dampened face, her cheeks still flushed with arousal. A tiny shiver trembled through her, and she curled even more tightly toward the back of the sofa. From the other end of the couch, he pulled a soft blanket and cautiously eased it over her, taking care not to wake her.
The toe of his sneaker bumped something as he started to turn away. Crouching, he grinned at the blue vibrator he picked up. A paper bag, an open package of batteries, and a small bottle of lube rested near the corner of the sofa. He left the other items on the table, carried the toy into the bathroom, and quietly cleaned it before tucking it into his jacket pocket. After returning to the office, he watched Ariel cuddle the edge of the blanket beneath her chin.
It wouldn't work to isolate Ariel at the estate for a month. The food she created reflected her passion, her intensity; every emotion affected Ariel at the moment of culinary conception.
Attempts to get her to channel that focus into arousing her body would be a challenge. Once out of the office, he made his way down the hall and then set the alarm against intruders. With the locks on the café's doors secured, he headed for his car. Dane's mind spun with ideas—images of Ariel's body arched beneath him, her wet pussy snug around his cock, her bright green eyes dazed and slumberous with satisfaction as he pulled climax after climax from her body.
“Taming her?” he wondered aloud, then shook his head. “Training, not taming—that's what she needs,” Dane determined. He pulled away from the curb and headed for one of the fast-food restaurants around the block. A plan was in order. He smiled. “A very special plan.
Something to get her hackles up and make her lose her temper enough to agree before she realizes what she's done.”
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He wouldn't return to Valerian's Root today. It was necessary that he take time to plot, but tomorrow… “Oh yes, tomorrow.” His smile grew wider as he patted the toy weighing down his pocket.
* *
*
Day 8
The next day Dane watched Ariel as she wiped down the counter. The force she used to rub the rag over the creamy tiles produced a squeak. She'd ordered him about all day; it had kept him from completing the paperwork he'd begun in the office earlier, and entertained the customers crowding the tables. He'd already counted down the till and written up the deposit. He waited for her to finish a few cleaning duties before they left to drop off the money at the bank. It wouldn't make much of a difference to his plans.
“You really don't have to stick around,” she told him.
Before he could answer, the glass on the front entrance rattled under the pounding knuckles of a man who hovered outside. The sun had begun to set and cast a bright light through the clear panels, making the polished wood floors gleam. Dane slid off the stool and crossed to the door.
“Where's Ariel?” the man demanded as he attempted to push his way inside.
“The café is closed. Perhaps you can come back—”
“Hey, Ariel!” he shouted past Dane. The bag the guy held in his left hand rattled—bottles clinked together. The scent of liquor wafted closer as he stepped forward.
“Jimmy?”
Dane looked over his shoulder at Ariel's exclamation. That allowed the man to push past Dane into the café.
“Babe, I heard your sister was out of town—”
Dane closed and locked the door and then took his time as his gaze followed Jimmy to the counter. Dane leaned against the wall and assessed the newcomer. The baggy khaki Bermuda shorts, short-sleeved, oversize T-shirt, and brown hiking boots revealed intricate tattooed designs on both arms and legs. The various colored images depicted mythological and fantastical creatures.
“So? Why are you here? I told you it was over.” Ariel slapped the counter with the rag.
