Love Is Danger

by Christie Adams

  “Strip.”

  Holy crap. One little word and she was ready to come. How the hell did he manage to do that so easily?

  “I want you naked while I’m getting dinner ready. I’m feeling generous—you’ve got twenty seconds, and I want to see your clothes neatly folded on that chair. No dumping them in a heap to beat the deadline.”

  The fact that he turned his back on her to go to the kitchen ramped up her desire to something close to fever pitch—it was a highly visible affirmation of his expectation of her obedience. She achieved her objective with about three seconds to spare, and when Cam returned from the kitchen, she was on her knees, her hands clasped behind her head.

  “Excellent, honey, but there’s one thing I want you always to remember.” He grabbed a cushion and crouched down in front of her, one knee resting on the floor. “Always use one of these when you assume a position like this. Dinner won’t be long. Nothing fancy, but for your starter, you’re going over my knee, and this time, beauty, it’s purely for our mutual gratification.”

  He palmed her breast, and Stacie had to close her eyes against the carnal waves of pleasure that washed over her when he drew her nipple into his mouth, grazed it with his teeth. She trembled when he swiped his finger through the wetness anointing her pussy, and again when he licked his finger and gave his approval in one word.

  “Delicious.”

  Once he was seated on the sofa, she tried to arrange herself over Cam’s lap with as much grace as she could muster. Since the last time she’d been in this position was when he’d taken her to task over her personal safety, she was more than a little nervous about how this was going to go.

  She shouldn’t have worried. Last time, Cam had merely held her in the position he wanted while he did the deed. This time…the first thing she felt was a gentle touch stroking down her spine, fingertips exploring her erogenous zones, a palm cupping her bottom with incredible gentleness.

  “There’s nothing more beautiful than a sub waiting for her Dom’s touch,” Cam began, his voice, low, seductive…as sensual as the caresses he was lavishing on her body…stroking her as if he owned her. “She’s wondering exactly what he’s going to do to her, because even if she thinks she knows…he may change his mind.”

  But he hadn’t. The first smack landed firmly. The hand lingered in place for a few moments, and then it was slowly caressing the sting away—so different from the last time. The second was applied to the other cheek in exactly the same way, and very soon thereafter Stacie began to feel very warm, very comfortable and very turned-on. In desperate need of some rather more intimate attention, she wriggled slightly, hoping that Cam would get the hint.

  “Stacie, I’m only going to say this once—lie still. And don’t pout.” A sharper but somehow still playful slap drove the point home.

  Stacie squeaked. She wasn’t pouting. “I’m not pouting!”

  She heard a low chuckle. It was the kind of chuckle that implied that the chuckler knew differently.

  The spanking continued, with a rhythm and a pattern that lulled her into that idyllic state, taking away the world and leaving behind the bliss of pure sexual arousal and lust. Her Dom was keeping her safe, cradling her in his care, wrapping her in the warmth of words that were the missing jigsaw pieces of her soul. And when the hands moved to stroke her thighs, to explore her moist slit, she shuddered deeply, with a need that only this man could satisfy.

  “Honey, now that you’re nicely warmed up, I want you to do something for me.” He helped her to sit up by the side of him.

  “Anything, Sir.”

  His grin broadened. “Oh beautiful, that’s music to a Dom’s ears.” He touched her cheek with his fingertips. “I’m going to make dinner now. While I’m doing that, I want you to lie down here and make yourself comfortable—because once you’re comfortable, I don’t want you to move. At all.”

  It was only when she was in place that Stacie realised that her Dom had a prime view of her naked body from the kitchen, but apart from the ceiling, she couldn’t see a damn thing…

  As he moved around the kitchen, preparing dinner from the supplies he’d brought back and what he found in the well-stocked cupboards, Cam couldn’t help but keep glancing towards his sub, stretched out on the sofa. He was particularly enamoured of the completely wanton position she’d taken up—legs splayed so that he could see her pussy and arms flung up over her head. Shit, he wanted to take her fast and hard.

  The main course wouldn’t take long, but it was the dessert he was looking forward to. Not so much the ice cream itself, but the dish he was going to eat it from. It was going to be cold and messy, and he could guarantee he was going to have a screaming, squealing sub on his hands. This was going to be fun.

  “Up you get, beautiful—your birthday dinner awaits.”

  “Does that mean I can get dressed now?”

  “Not a chance, honey. Come and sit down.”

  He watched her eat. As she chewed the first mouthful of steak—medium-rare, as she’d requested—a look of such bliss crossed her features that his body hummed with the primal satisfaction of a male providing for his mate. He shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the primitive nonsense that was in danger of filling it.

  “Cam, I know you’ve cooked dinner for us before, but this is incredible! I have to ask—where on earth did you learn to cook?”

  He laughed. “Once I left the Regiment, it was a case of learn to cook or starve.”

  “And being the perfectionist you are…here I am, slapping the results straight on my thighs.” She sighed and looked at him, her gaze pointedly falling on his chest. “It’s all right for you—I mean, the calories you burn off with all the stuff you do for your job. You can eat like this and not put any weight on, whereas I…” Her voice tailed off and she looked down at her gloriously naked breasts and beyond, to her thighs.

  All of a sudden, the food didn’t taste quite so good. “Stacie, eyes on me. Question—do you trust your Dom?”

  She put down her knife and fork and met his steady gaze with her own. “Yes, Sir, I do.”

  “Then I only need to say this once, and you will get the message loud and clear. Stacie, you are beautiful. There is not one inch of your body that I do not adore. You are a woman most Doms can only dream about, and you know why? Not only are you gorgeous to look at, but far more importantly, you have real intelligence, a generous heart and a personality that makes you beautiful inside as well. You have spirit and determination. Since we met, there hasn’t been a day when I haven’t wanted to be near you, to have you in my bed, to have you kneel in front of me—to hear all the sexy sounds you make when I give my sub what she needs from me.

  “And that is just the way you are right now. I do not want some scrawny-arsed supermodel, I want a real woman, and the real woman I want is you. Is. That. Clear?

  She smiled…a hesitant smile that told him she wanted to believe, she was willing to believe…but she needed to get used to the idea. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good.” Her response would do for now, but her attitude towards herself was something he was going to keep an eye on. “Now, finish your steak—you’re going to need the energy for your dessert.”

  *

  “Ice cream? We’re having ice cream for dessert?”

  From the way that her Dom had been talking, Stacie was expecting some sort of confection worthy of the world’s greatest pastry chefs. What she was getting was…ice cream. Quality ice cream, she had to admit, but ice cream was still only ice cream. She huffed. Oh well—maple and pecan had to be better than plain old vanilla.

  Cam grinned lasciviously. “Don’t knock it till you try it, honey. Come with me.”

  When he led her to the bedroom, she became more confused than ever—and seeing the bed covered in towels wasn’t clarifying matters either. Although it did explain what he’d been up to when he’d disappeared into the bedroom after he’d polished off his steak. “What—”

  “Lie down. Head on the
pillow, and get comfortable.”

  Stacie sat down and swung her legs up on the bed. “What are you going to do? Cam?”

  “Just relax. You said you trust me, right?”

  She couldn’t exactly deny it—hadn’t she said so, just a short time ago? “I did—and I do. I’m just a little…curious, that’s all.” She shot a pointed look at the half-litre tub of ice cream.

  “Then allow me to satisfy your…curiosity.”

  Cam quickly stripped off his jeans, and as naked as she was, straddled her thighs. His beautiful thick cock was already hard and erect, straining upwards and weeping at the tip that almost touched his annoyingly flat belly. He was as turned on as she was. She watched as he opened the new tub, stuck the spoon in and tasted it. He beamed his approval. “Excellent—but I know what would make it taste even better.”

  “Don’t I get some?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Beautiful, you’re going to get more than you can handle. Open your mouth.”

  Maple and pecan ice cream caressed her taste buds, and as soon as she swallowed it she screamed, as something ice-cold landed between her breasts. “You—”

  A second freezing dollop landed a couple of inches lower, then a third and a fourth, and while Stacie was squealing, gasping for breath and trying to think of something suitable to hurl at her Dom, he was gleefully dropping more blobs all over her.

  And they were starting to melt. Stacie felt the trickle of creamy rivulets following the curve of her ribs, until finally she found her voice again. “What are you doing?” she shrieked, followed by three stunned words. “Oh…my…God.”

  They say that actions speak louder than words, and what Cam was doing didn’t just speak, it yelled—loud, proud and crystal clear. He was licking her, scooping up the softening dessert with his tongue, and as the ice cream was melting, so was she, trapped beneath Cam while his lips played havoc with her senses. Wet, open-mouthed kisses sucked at her skin, reinforcing all the submissive feelings that were tumbling through her.

  He was on all fours now, caging her body beneath his, his eyes dark with passion. When he kissed her mouth, she tasted her own body mingled with maple and pecan, and felt the loss of him when he rose to his knees. His cock bobbed against his rock-hard lower abs. Stacie opened her legs at his touch, and when he positioned himself between her thighs, she couldn’t help herself—she reached for his cock and wrapped both hands around it, using her palm to smear his precum around the shaft.

  He gave a low, guttural growl of warning as she began to milk him. “Stacie.”

  “Please, Sir—let me.”

  He gave her permission with a jerky nod. Stacie laced her fingers together over the top of his dick, with her thumbs underneath, and resumed the up and down motion. His balls were heavy globes at the base and he groaned again when she moved one hand to cradle the sac, gently rolled the testicles between her fingers. His thighs, hard with straining muscle, were almost trembling under the onslaught.

  “Enough!”

  He grasped her wrists and moved her hands away from his genitals…and then he was lying on top of her, all delicious, hot, heavy man. Her hips lifted for him, granting him easy entrance to her body, the thickness of his hard cock stretching her and filling her with each supple movement of his hips against her, each slap of his body colliding with hers in a passionate frenzy.

  Baring everything to him, she threw her head back, offering her neck for his kisses, a gasp escaping her lips as he bit down on the curve of her shoulder. He moved again, and his teeth fastened on to her nipple, sending brilliant shards of crystal pain through her entire body. Pure sexual pleasure washed over her and around her, the man she held so tightly the source of the eddies and swirls of her sensory overload.

  “Please…Cam…Sir…please—”

  “Come for me, Stacie. Let it go. Fly for me.”

  She needed no further urging—a scream signalled her climax, an orgasmic wave crashed over her again and again with each relentless plunge of her Master’s cock into her body, taking her, claiming her, branding her as his and only his…until the last decadent ripple jolted through her and he came, rigid in her arms, spilling his seed deep inside her.

  Instinct wrapped her arms and legs around his shuddering body, holding him, soothing him, calming him, until his breathing resumed its normal rhythm. And when he looked into her eyes again, she almost stopped breathing at the sight of so much rage to possess. His mouth ground down upon hers as he withdrew from her body.

  “Never…never…doubt how much you mean to me, Stacie,” he breathed against her neck, nuzzling and licking the sensitive skin behind her ear.

  “Never.”

  He was going to give Stacie her birthday present after they’d showered. The intensity with which they’d made love had dissolved into helpless laughter as they’d unstuck their ice cream-coated bodies—Cam’s light covering of chest hair had turned into darker spiky curls that clung to Stacie’s inquisitive fingertips. After they’d tidied up the mess in the bedroom, they’d cleaned up in the snugly intimate shower enclosure, in a glorious session of playful intimacy. Once that was done, Cam told his sub to get into bed while he retrieved the gift bag from the living room.

  Returning to the bedroom, bag in hand, he allowed himself the indulgence of committing to memory just how gorgeous she looked, all freshly scrubbed and sitting up in bed, waiting just for him. Her arms were wrapped around her raised knees, and she looked as relaxed and happy as he was. Wearing his collar, she would be…perfection.

  “Happy birthday, beautiful.”

  Beside her in the bed, he couldn’t resist kissing her while she opened the gift. The cerise gift bag was camouflage, hiding another bag in classy dove grey. Engrossed though he was, he didn’t miss the way her hands trembled slightly when she saw the jeweller’s name.

  “Cam, what is this?”

  “The first part of your birthday gift,” he said easily, determined to remove the concern from her voice. “I hope you like it—you didn’t give me much time to look, so I thought I’d get you a little something for the day. We can go shopping tomorrow for something special.”

  “Wait, please.” She held up her hand. “Please…just slow down. This…I’ve looked at their window displays, I know what their price range is like…I can’t accept this.” She started to push it back at him—a reaction unlike any he’d ever seen before, when he’d given a gift of any kind to a woman he was dating.

  “Stacie! Christ, woman, don’t you know I want to spoil you? And if I can’t do it on your birthday, when can I do it? Look at me, honey.”

  Tears were not what he expected or wanted to see. When he’d chosen the piece of jewellery—a simple bracelet in yellow gold, with bezel-set grey sapphires—he’d only wanted to please her. The sapphires had reminded him of the colour of her eyes—eyes that were now looking at him in something close to distress. Shit. This was not supposed to happen.

  “Cam, you’ve already bought the car for me—”

  “We’re not going to rehash that, are we?”

  A couple of days after they’d picked up her new car, she’d broached the subject of a payment plan, so that she could repay him for the cost of the car—something which, by that time, he’d had no intention of allowing to happen. That was when he’d found out just how stubborn and pigheaded she could be. The argument had continued for far longer than he’d anticipated, but eventually she’d capitulated, albeit reluctantly.

  “No, we’re not,” she agreed quietly, “but this—”

  “Stacie, I want you to open the box. It’s nothing to be afraid of. Open it,” he repeated softly.

  With the greatest of care, she unfastened the shiny grey ribbon that held the gift bag closed. The box she found inside was enclosed in equally tasteful wrapping paper, secured by another bow. She hesitated a moment, and then unfastened the second bow and removed the paper. And then she simply stared at the grey box with the gold lettering.

  “You’ve come this far
,” Cam urged. “Don’t you want to see what’s inside?”

  She was still more than a little nervous. With his arm around her, he felt the deep breath she took…and heard the gasp when she opened the box.

  “Oh, Cam.” She closed the box. “It’s lovely, it really is, but I still can’t accept it.”

  “Yes, you can.” He took the bracelet out of the box and fastened it around her wrist. Then he lifted her hand to his mouth, kissed it, and then kissed her cheek.

  “It looks beautiful—just like you, birthday girl.”

  Chapter 12

  “What do you think, Sir?”

  What Cam thought was that he was the luckiest bastard alive. A week after her birthday, Stacie stood in front of him, modelling the outfit that she was going to wear for their first visit to Aegis as a couple.

  And she looked amazing.

  At the moment, what she was wearing wouldn’t look too unusual in any mainstream nightclub. The royal-blue patent leather heels were perhaps a little too high for dancing the night away, but they looked perfect against the sheer black thigh-highs that adorned her incredible legs. As she walked around, the lacy tops occasionally put in an appearance beneath the black satin miniskirt that cinched her waist and flared from her hips. Between the waistband of the skirt and the bottom of the black bolero jacket that just fastened over the fullness of her breasts there was a tempting flash of the satin corset, also blue to match the shoes.

  Once they arrived at the club, the heels and sheer black thigh-highs would have to go, of course, as would the miniskirt and the short bolero jacket. In the corset, which barely covered her nipples, and black lace thong, wearing the collar he would put around her graceful neck before they entered the public lounge at the club, she would be the most stunning sub there. Guaranteed.

  Over the last couple of weeks or so, since Stacie had recovered from her bout of flu, they’d spent as much time together as possible—unfortunately not as much as Cam would have preferred. His team in the Middle East was proving to be so successful at their job that he was now having to turn down additional work due to lack of available manpower, with the result that Cam was facing the prospect of another spell out there, just when it was the last thing he wanted or needed.