by Qwillia Rain
The heady smell of chocolate again reached the office. Shaking his head, he debated the rationale behind confronting Ariel about the decision she'd made and how it would affect the rest of her life. The other, more emotional part of him sneered at the idea of meeting with her after the way she had dismissed the idea of being submissive to him. Dane was sure as he pushed to his feet that his weren't the only feelings to have been sacrificed to Ariel's desperation to keep anyone else from taking over.
Perhaps it was time they cleared the air. He didn't want her sister to come home to hostile living quarters. And he sure as hell wanted to know if he waited in vain for a woman who wasn't willing to bend. After saving the document and shutting down the computer, Dane stood up, crossed the hall, and stepped into the kitchen.
The second the door swung open, Ariel knew Dane had more on his mind than the evening deposit. She rose to her feet and pushed the stool beneath the counter.
“Can we talk?” he asked, crossing to stand on the other side of the workstation.
She shrugged. “Sure.” If he goes first, I'll know where I stand. Maybe I won't have to tell him anything.
“About the other night. I don't want you to think that I wanted to end what we have together.”
An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
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Ariel crossed to the rack and pulled off the pan of brownies. The metal was cool to the touch, but the bottom was still warm. “I kinda figured that out.”
Dane continued talking. “I know you have a very strong personality, Ariel. One that has cowed a few men, but my observations about your nature—they weren't from a selfish standpoint. I didn't say it because I'd prefer you assumed a submissive role with me.”
“Then why? None of the other guys I've dated have ever raised such an uproar when I told them I didn't want to see them anymore.” Ariel smoothed the icing over the brownies, not wanting to meet his gaze in case there wasn't anything more there than casual interest. Or a wish to win the bet they'd had.
“I would think by now you'd realize I'm not like the boys you've been involved with, Tink.”
She shivered at the nickname. “Oh, I figured that one out too.”
“And?”
Her head came up. Their gazes connected. His expression challenged her. As if he believed she'd never admit she was wrong. Ha. Try again, surfer boy.
After swirling the chocolate icing into place, she dropped the spatula into the extra frosting at the bottom of the bowl and then faced Dane. “I'm about to get to the point where I admit that you could be right in your estimation.”
Dane eased around the counter and stood beside her. “Which estimation is that?”
“The one where you said I gain more satisfaction from taking directions than giving them.”
She watched as he lifted her hand from the counter and found the smear of fudge frosting along the base of her thumb.
Dane raised it to his lips, his gaze holding hers, and licked the chocolaty, sweet goo away.
“And where would you say you can take the best orders?”
Ariel let her lips curve in a lopsided grin. “Anywhere.”
“And who would be giving these orders?” Dane queried; he wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her snug against his frame. The other hand still held hers; his lips explored the sensitive lines in her palm.
Her other hand came up to thread her fingers through his curly blond hair. “Well, considering the only dominant I could possibly tolerate bossing me around is you, I think the prospect pool is awful shallow.”
Dane chuckled. “Good thing I'm more than willing to spend all the time necessary to teach you how to enjoy submitting to me.”
Her fingers tightened in his hair and gave a slight tug. “Eh, watch it, Mister. Don't think I'm some kinda pushover just because I love—”
Dane's grin deepened. “What was that, Ariel? Because you love? What? Taking orders from me? The multiple orgasms I can give you?” He teased her even as he pressed close, letting her feel how his body responded to hers.
Ariel knew she might as well confess everything. He'd get it out of her eventually, and maybe, considering the satisfied gleam in his eye, it was possible he reciprocated her feelings.
“Oh, I love all of that, but unbearably arrogant as you are, I have to admit I lean toward loving you sometimes too.”
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“Good answer,” Dane praised before his mouth covered hers, coaxed her lips open, and teased her tongue into play.
Four days of denial had the heat burning in both of them. Ariel could feel the hammering of his heart in time with hers. The grip of his fingers tightened as he held her to him. Though she was sure he felt the same for her, Ariel wanted the words. Leaning back, she pressed her hands over his chest and smiled up at him. “Aren't you forgetting something?”
“What's that?”
Ariel tugged the hem of his T-shirt free of his jeans. “Oh, maybe a few words?” she suggested as she pushed the shirt up his chest and over his head.
“Oh yeah.” Dane nodded. “Take off your clothes, Tink.”
Ariel laughed as she toed off her sneakers and stripped out of her black slacks and panties in one pull. “Here? Now?”
Dane's fingers started at the bottom of her chef's coat and Ariel's at the top, pushing buttons through buttonholes. “Definitely right here”—he canted his head toward the workstation beside them—“and right now.”
Coat undone, she shrugged it off, then stripped out of her tank top and bra before balancing on one foot and then the other to tug off her socks. “Those are some pretty good words, Master Reese, but I was thinking of three other ones.” She motioned to the pan of brownies. “Better get those out of the way. They're for Al when she gets home.”
Dane obliged and carried the pan to a different counter. As he returned, his fingers flicked open the buttons on his jeans, but he didn't push them off. His warm hands hoisted her onto the stainless steel surface, drawing a hiss of surprise from her lips at the chill beneath her bottom.
Stepping into the cradle of her thighs, he pushed and opened her to his touch. Two fingers parted her plump lips, which were wet with anticipation and arousal. Ariel groaned at the rasp of his rough fingertips along her delicate flesh, but she didn't try to pull away. He stroked over her clit, sending a shiver through her body before the two fingers dipped lower and pushed inside.
The movements were too shallow to be painful, but too slow to satisfy. As she reached for purchase on the smooth surface behind her, Ariel bumped the bowl, scraping it along the counter as she gripped the edge. Dane's attention shifted from her to the bowl.
“Three words?” he asked. His free hand slid through the icing on the bottom of the container. Dane lifted a thick glob, nipped off some, and hummed in appreciation. “Could the three words be love your chocolate?”
Ariel watched as he coated her crinkled nipples in the icing before drawing a trail from between her breasts to her navel with the confection. Swallowing heavily, she shook her head.
“Not quite those three words.” Her breath froze in her lungs as his mouth covered the crest of her breast.
His tongue lapped at the crown. He sucked away the icing on one nipple, then traveled to the other breast and cleaned it too. “Mmm. Better than lemon.” He lifted his gaze to hers and grinned. “Well, were those the three words?”
Before she could reply, he started at her sternum and began drifting downward, eating the smears of chocolate from her skin. Shaking her head, she told him, “Not those three words either.”
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Her palm, slick with sweat, slipped out from under her. Ariel reached for something and upended the bowl of frosting. The glossy brown topping, having grown warm, spilled over the counter and onto the floor.
Ariel arched toward the heated slide of his cock against her. Her hand, coated in chocolate, gripped his hip. He thrust home, burying himself
to the hilt inside her. His breath whispered over her lips. “How about I love you? Would those be the three words?”
Ariel moaned. “Oh God, yes. Those are the words. Now fuck me please, Master Reese.”
“As you wish, my sweet little pixie,” Dane assured her, and he picked up the pace.
Dane urged her to hold off climax, while Ariel begged to let go. A sheen of sweat coated their skin and mingled with the spilled icing as their bodies rocked together. She could feel the sticky topping in her hair, on her hands, and along her back. In the kaleidoscope swirl of sensations, her hands slipped and scrambled for purchase along Dane's back, leaving her mark on him in sweet, chocolaty smears and transferring the icing to the insides of her thighs as she wrapped them around his hips.
Ariel's first climax slammed through her, making her cry out, head thrown back as she pumped against Dane. Her second orgasm rolled over her as the swinging doors of the kitchen opened. Over Dane's shoulder, through the haze of sexual gratification, Ariel vaguely registered her sister's shocked face. The stunned but amused features of Logan Abram came into focus behind Alayna as Dane's climax set off a third, more powerful explosion inside Ariel.
Ariel buried her head against his shoulder as she cried out. “Oh God. Fuck! Yes!”
“Christ!” A woman's gasp was audible over Dane's gruff exclamation.
“I guess that's one way to kill a guy.” Logan's amused chuckle covered the ragged breaths Dane and Ariel struggled to control.
Logan's presence in the kitchen meant that the woman with him could only be Alayna.
Dane could imagine how surprised Ariel's sister was. It wasn't every day a woman walked into her restaurant to find her sister naked on the counter with her legs wrapped around the waist of a seminude male and both of them smeared head to waist in chocolate icing.
Alayna commanded, “You are so cleaning that up!”
Rich male laughter spilled through the room.
Dane pretended to be oblivious to their audience. They'd leave eventually. He could count on Logan to take care of any residual anger Alayna might harbor. His hands smoothed over Ariel's back, his lips caressed her neck, and his cock started to regain its rigidity. The smile Ariel aimed at her big sister was sated and happy, even as heat flushed her cheeks and she attempted to hide her body behind his larger frame.
“Hey, Al. Made your favorite brownies.” She waved in the general direction of where Dane had placed the pan. “Why don't you take them on home and share them with Logan.”
Ariel's breath hitched when Dane gave a particularly deep stroke of his cock inside her. “We've got…three more days to make up fo…to make up for.”
“Three?” Dane grunted. Lifting his head, he smiled over his shoulder at his business partner and Alayna and then turned back to grin down at Ariel. “Tink, we haven't even finished day one yet.”
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Alayna spluttered, and Logan laughed as he grabbed the pan and steered his woman out of the kitchen.
“Looks like you're in trouble, sprite,” Dane quipped. His body stroked slowly in and out of her sheath.
“You're right there with me, captain. Now make it worth my while.” She tugged him closer.
“Is that an invitation?” Dane asked.
Ariel traced his lips, her fingertips smearing chocolate from there then along his chin.
“Depends on how long you're able to last.”
“How's forever sound, Tink?” Dane used his tone, the look in his eyes, the very stillness of his body to signal the seriousness of his words to her.
She didn't miss a beat in responding. Arching close, Ariel nipped the confection from his skin. “Only if you promise we can play with your flogger and paddle.”
Dane arched a brow and studied her face. “Hmmm, does my sprite feel like the necessity to be disciplined?”
Ariel tightened her legs around his hips and adopted a pouty look. “I have been very naughty. Perhaps I could do with another lesson.”
“I know exactly which room.”
“Really?”
Dane smiled at the gleam of excitement in her bright green eyes. “Oh yes, Tink. Just the room. It has floggers, handcuffs, paddles, nipple clamps, butt plugs, and all the other delights I want to introduce you to.”
“Will I get to use them on you?” Mischief flashed in her gaze, matching the sly grin painting her lips.
Dane laughed. She'd look beautiful strapped to the St. Andrew's cross and facing the two-way mirror in Room Seven. Her body would dance under the sting of the paddle or flogger, but the blush heating her cheeks and drenching her inner thighs would come from the words he'd whisper in her ear. Smile for your audience, Tink. Show them how well my sprite takes her punishment.
Her body pulsed around him, and the heat intensified as he increased his pace. The gasps slipping from her lips could have been a reaction to his lovemaking, or they could have come from the promises he whispered in her ear.
Keeping his pixie on her toes would be a challenge well worth his devoted attentions. And the judicious and repeated application of leather to her sexy, heart-shaped ass.
Loose Id Titles by Qwillia Rain
A Neighbor's Ultimatum
An Invitation: Ariel's Pet
Meeting a Neighbor's Needs
The DIABLO BLANCO CLUB Series
Santa's Elf
Under Control
Unfair Advantage
Qwillia Rain
Qwillia Rain grew up loving books. From an early age she was creating stories to go with the pictures. By high school she was penning romances for her friends and shocking them with the graphic nature of the love scenes. After leaving her home in Las Vegas, Nevada for Anchorage, Alaska, Qwillia discovered there were other authors who enjoyed throwing open the bedroom doors and exploring the darker side of human nature. She left Alaska for Billings, Montana, but the travel bug struck again. Currently, Qwillia resides in Raleigh, North Carolina, drawing inspiration from the history, scenery, and rich diversity of the South.
Document Outline
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Loose Id Titles by Qwillia Rain
Qwillia Rain
