Dared by a Dangerous Man

by Cleo Peitsche

  “So what do you wanna do for four hours?” I asked.

  “I’m taking you to a nice lunch, then to a hotel room. Unfortunately, it’s near the airport.”

  I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to conclude from that.

  “There’s a dress for you hanging in the back. Do you mind changing?”

  “A real man wouldn’t want me to change,” I said. “He’d accept me the way I am.” I twisted to see a garment bag from La Diva, and I gasped. “When did you have time?”

  “I picked it up in D.C.,” he said.

  And he’d flown back here with it. Just to have lunch with me. “You’re insane,” I said, blinking away tears. I didn’t want him to see, so I quickly scrambled between the front seats.

  My gaze met Corbin’s in the rear-view mirror. Because of the heavy window tint, it was fairly dark inside, but his eyes seemed to smolder. Thank you, I mouthed, because I didn’t trust my voice.

  You’re welcome, he mouthed back. And while he had to see that I was having a difficult time holding it together, he was kind enough to act like he hadn’t noticed.

  The dress was white, graceful. Sleeveless with a high neck, a flattering waist and a fluffy skirt that reached my knees. And, as always, it fit me perfectly.

  “The shopping bag is for you, too,” he said.

  I found it in the far back of the vehicle and peered inside. A shoebox, a light turquoise jewelry box topped with a satin bow, and a small purse to match the dress.

  When Corbin stopped at a light, I climbed back into the front, dragging the large bag with me.

  I opened the shoebox first. High-heeled sandals, the straps across the toes and around the ankles a satin ribbon. They, like the dress, fit perfectly.

  “Do you like them?”

  “They’re gorgeous.” I considered. “Yes. I like them.”

  “They’re not your style.”

  “I don’t really have a style.” I smoothed my finger over the ribbon because I was nervous about the jewelry box. It seemed just the right size for a ring.

  Corbin had worn me down with his constant gifts that cost a few hundred to a thousand or even two thousand dollars, but when it came to things that cost more than that, I was still as uncomfortable as the day he’d bought me the watch.

  “We’ll be at the restaurant in five minutes,” Corbin said. When I didn’t react, he leaned over and reached into the bag. “Here.” He placed the box in my lap, and I ran my fingers over the bow. The loops were perfectly symmetrical.

  “Is this also from D.C.?” I asked.

  “No. It’s just something small I picked up a few days ago. I didn’t have a chance to give it to you. Really, it’s nothing.”

  Didn’t have a chance because I’d been avoiding him? I carefully pulled at one end of the ribbon, and the beautiful bow loosened and fell away.

  My hands shaking, I pulled off the top of the box. Inside was another box. I had to shake it to get it out.

  Definitely a ring box. His idea of “nothing” might be a piece of jewelry worth tens of thousands.

  “Corbin—”

  “Just open it, or I’ll stop the truck right here.”

  I started to open it, but I couldn’t. Corbin pulled into the emergency lane and turned on his hazard lights.

  “What am I going to do with you?” he asked softly. He took the box out of my hand and opened it.

  Inside was a ring. Not an engagement ring, that was obvious. The band was designed to look like a chain of flowers, the center of each a bright yellow stone, the petals made of small diamonds.

  “I love it.” It wasn’t so girlie that I’d feel like I was pretending to be someone else, but it was pretty. Special. I told myself it hadn’t cost more than the watch, but I knew better.

  “They’re daisies,” he said.

  I nodded, though I hadn’t realized. It wasn’t like I’d ever seen daisies covered in diamonds before.

  He took my hand and slid the ring onto my middle finger.

  “Why?”

  “Why not?” he asked. “Hey. Look at me.”

  I did, and I immediately started crying.

  Corbin smiled a little. “I need you. I know you don’t believe me right now, but you will. You’ll see. As long as you’re willing to give us a chance, I know we’ll get through this.”

  He handed me a tissue, and I wiped my eyes. “Thank you,” I said. “You’re always giving me things…”

  “Because it makes me happy. So stop crying.” But his voice was gentle.

  He resumed driving, and I tried to make myself presentable. It wasn’t easy because my hair was determined to frizz, and now my cheeks were splotchy.

  Chapter 13

  When we arrived at the restaurant, Corbin took my hand. “God, you’re beautiful,” he said.

  He ordered twice as much food as we needed, and I sampled everything. Then, true to his word, he took me to a hotel.

  I got his point about it being near the airport. It was nice, but more utilitarian than romantic. For executives, not lovers.

  Not that it mattered. Being with Corbin made it plenty romantic enough.

  He was washing his hands in the bathroom. I stood next to the bed, feeling uncomfortable. There was a mirror across the room, and I barely recognized myself. The clothes make the woman. It was true. When Corbin put me in a nice dress, I looked like a far more attractive version of myself.

  I twisted. The clothes helped, but I was glad I’d put in so much time at the gym.

  Corbin came out. “Still dressed?”

  “Don’t you dare rip my new dress,” I said. Over the months, he’d ruined several in his haste to get me naked.

  He smiled and came to stand in front of me. I tilted my head back to look into his eyes.

  “I’m sorry things can’t be normal,” he said. “You deserve a man without complications. But this is the baggage I come with, and I’m too selfish to let you go.” He stroked his thumb over my bottom lip, and I felt myself begin to tremble.

  What I needed was to love him less. Instead, he was making me love him more.

  “Do you want me to fuck you hard or soft?” he asked quietly.

  “Does it matter?”

  “Sure it does.” One corner of his mouth pulled into a smile, and I rolled my eyes because I knew what he was thinking.

  “I’m not sure what I’m in the mood for,” I said, knowing that he’d give me the opposite of whatever I asked for.

  “That’s fine, too. On the bed.”

  I slowly stretched out on the sheets, and Corbin pushed the bottom of the dress up my thighs. His impatient hands disappeared under the silky, sensual fabric. When he reached my hips, he pulled my panties down.

  “Don’t ruin the dress,” I gasped.

  “You can have as many as you like,” he said. “At lunch, all I could think about was getting you into bed. You want to know why I like getting dressed up and going out to eat with you?”

  “Because you like watching me eat,” I said. He’d told me before.

  “Yes, but you don’t know why I like to put you in pretty dresses first.”

  I frowned. “It’s not because you want to go to nice restaurants?”

  Now he grinned. “When you’re wearing an expensive dress, you eat more slowly. You’re more careful. You take smaller sips, more delicate bites. It makes me think about how you suck my dick, how you start off with a little lick of your tongue, the way you put just the tip inside.”

  “Oh, god. Corbin… I can never eat in public again.” I squeezed my eyes closed and covered my face with my hands. I could feel the ring, the diamonds cool against my cheek.

  His lips brushed my inner thigh. He lingered there, kissing, then he spread my legs wide. His pleased grunt made me tingle.

  My favorite sounds: Corbin’s belt unbuckling, his zipper coming down. Sex with him was always great, whether he was rugged in jeans or refined in an expensive suit.

  I looked at his broad shoulders flexing under
the black dress shirt as he kissed his way up my thigh. The kisses turned to little nips. Because this was Corbin. He liked his sex rough.

  He didn’t waste time teasing me and instead swirled his tongue around my clit, then thrust into my hole, tasting, making me moan.

  His whole body was in motion, rolling to one side, then the other. He was taking off his pants while he brought me to the agonizing edge of an orgasm.

  “Don’t stop,” I said even though it was too late because he was sitting up, peeling off the shirt, the undershirt, his underwear.

  He stripped me out of the dress quickly, and I wondered if ease of removal had factored into his purchasing decision.

  When I was fully naked, he wound his arms around me. “If I do my job right, you’ll still be full of my come by the time you get to Paris,” he said.

  “But Mr. Lagos, that’s several days away,” I said breathlessly, playing his game. “That must be a lot of come.”

  “You have no idea.”

  I stared helplessly into his electric blue-green eyes. Just looking at him was enough to start the orgasm building again. He was going to penetrate me any second now, and just knowing how much pleasure was soon coming—

  The bulbous head of his cock nudged between my legs. He leveraged my knees under his shoulders, and he pinned my upper arms against the bed with his hands.

  He made me wait like that, letting the reality of my situation sink in.

  My hips were tilted into the air, my legs held wide by Corbin’s body. My pussy was exposed, and so was my ass. He could push himself into whichever hole he wanted, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I couldn’t even use my hands to slow him because of his weight on my arms.

  This position always made me a little panicky. The penetration was deep, and his cock was several sizes too large for any woman.

  It was the only position that made me come even close to using my safe word.

  He knew that. And he’d chosen this anyway.

  The entire time, his gaze didn’t leave mine. I knew what he wanted: for me to say his name.

  And when he shoved his long, hard cock into me, I didn’t just say it. I yelled it, my hands fisting the sheets, my legs forced up so high I thought I would be permanently folded in half.

  “Look at me,” he said. “You’re beautiful.”

  The kind words didn’t mean he planned to go easy. He doubled down, making my breasts bounce almost painfully. He was too big, too fast, and it was just what I needed.

  He eased one of my legs down, then the other, so that I was stretched out flat. But I couldn’t close my legs; he wouldn’t let me.

  He fucked me with long, hard strokes.

  My stiffened nipples skipped along his hard chest with each of his forceful thrusts. His face had gotten red, and I could tell he was fighting not to come. My body clenched around him, and I squeezed my muscles, wanting to see him lose control.

  “Naughty,” he said, and the next thing I knew, my legs were over my head and Corbin was pounding rawly into my dripping hole. My hands were free now, and I dug my fingers into his wrists, but he didn’t even notice.

  My choices were two. Safe word and end this, or accept his domination of my sex.

  I came, shuddering, gasping, moaning, and then he came. He stilled over me, but he held my legs where they were. His skin was damp with sweat.

  I looked up and saw him staring down at me.

  “What?” I asked, uncomfortable.

  His response was to lean closer and claim my mouth in a wet, possessive kiss. One with lots of tongue. One that tasted faintly of my pussy. One he wouldn’t let me pull away from.

  I understood. He would kiss me however he wanted, and I would either accept it or stop it by snapping my fingers.

  He pulled back, his teeth on my tongue, his eyes on mine so that I would see that he was doing this deliberately, that his possessive, controlling actions were intentional. That I was his, to fuck as he wanted, when he wanted, however many times he wanted.

  I moaned. I would have begged him to fuck me, to let me suck his dick until he got hard again or whatever it took. But I couldn’t speak. Then he was rushing forward again, tasting my mouth, then claiming it, and I felt his cock stiffening inside me.

  He began rocking his hips again, and I was helpless to do anything but take it.

  How had he known I was kinky like this? How had he guessed how much I’d love submitting to him? Because he had known, right from the start, and he’d introduced me to such wonders.

  Even when he wasn’t doing anything worse than holding me down and forcing me to get fucked for his pleasure, the orgasms were constant. And when I fought him, when I struggled and was a “naughty sub,” I did it while gleefully anticipating the punishment he’d think up.

  Everything he’d ever done to me, I’d either loved immediately or had come to crave. The only thing that didn’t fall into that category was when he denied me sex… And the orgasms I had when he finally touched me again were always so intense, it was worth the torture.

  Which he knew. He surely knew.

  When it came to me, he knew… everything. He saw me, the only one to ever do so.

  If I lost him…

  Corbin slowed, then stopped. “Baby?” he asked, the rest of his question obvious.

  He’d always called me baby sometimes, but was he doing it more, now, because I’d told him not to say the name Audrey?

  And if that was the case, if he was thinking about that, thinking about how upset I’d been, it was like she was in the room with us.

  “Stop,” I said.

  “Stop? Or…”

  “Please stop.” I couldn’t meet his gaze.

  “I’m not moving. Are you saying you want me to pull out?”

  My eyes closed. I didn’t know what I wanted.

  “Hey. Look at me. Look. At. Me.”

  My eyes slitted open just enough to do as he’d asked. And I did it because I appreciated that he’d stopped without making me use my safe word.

  His gaze probed mine, seemed to drill into my soul. It was painful, and I felt exposed, vulnerable. “What’s going on? You went completely rigid.”

  I shrugged.

  “Audrey,” he said, warning in his voice.

  “I’m not trying to shut you out,” I said. “I’m just…”

  “Scared?” he supplied.

  It wasn’t really a question, but I nodded. That’s exactly what I was. Terrified. Petrified.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “More than I want to,” I said, which was true.

  His blue-green eyes turned sad. “Can you try something for me? Instead of fighting to keep up this wall you built between us, I want you to grab onto me. To trust me. You can dig into me, Audrey. I’m your rock. Your safe harbor. No matter what the storm is, I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Don’t you get tired of it?” I asked. “Being strong all the time?”

  Doing the right thing all the time? But I didn’t dare say it.

  Corbin rolled us both onto our sides. He stayed inside me, his large hand firm on my buttock as he pulled my left leg over his hip.

  “You think it’s something I’m being, a role I’m taking,” he said. “But you’re wrong. This is who I am. It’s as much a part of me as my eye color or my blood type.”

  I was shaking my head.

  He cupped the side of my face in his hand. “Audrey, you’re hard because life has demanded that you be hard. You wanted respect, and you had to fight for it. That’s your experience, and I respect that. But I was always like this on some level. This is me.”

  “You like cooking and buying me nice things, and you like fixing all my problems,” I said.

  “Yes. I like taking care of you in every way.”

  It just didn’t seem possible. “I don’t understand you,” I said. “I really don’t.”

  He smiled. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you don’t need to,” he said. “Let me
love you. Allow yourself to trust me. It’s gotten us this far.”

  I sighed, not wanting to argue with him, which made him smile.

  “Now, I’m going to finish fucking you, and I need you to trust me. I won’t stop again unless you use your safe word. Understood?”

  I nodded, but his sharp gaze wasn’t satisfied until I said, “Yes.”

  He rolled me onto my back and lifted my legs over my head. This time, he pinned them on the mattress behind me. I wasn’t flexible, and my knees were bent. It wasn’t graceful or pretty.

  It did, however, give Corbin perfect, unfettered access to my pussy.

  My hands went to my ankles, and Corbin caught my wrists. His smile of triumph was wicked.

  Once he had me placed exactly how he wanted, all four of my limbs pinned to the bed by his rough hands, he rocked in deep.

  I was already dripping wet with his come, and it made everything so slippery.

  “Tell me you love me, baby,” he said. “Say it until I tell you to stop.”

  “I love you,” I whispered. “I love you.” I continued until the words stopped having meaning, until they were just syllables, and I didn’t know if I was saying that I loved him, or he loved me or what.

  And I was still scared. But he’d asked me to trust him, to grab onto him, so that was what I did. I let him fuck me, and I left my soul bared, and somehow, between babbling that I loved him and all the orgasms he brought me to, I actually started to feel like maybe, just maybe, we might have a chance.

  I didn’t believe he was mine, but I didn’t not believe it, either. That was progress.

  “You stopped talking,” he said. “On your knees.” He pulled out of me, and I turned over.

  “No,” he said. “On the floor.”

  I crouched, looking up as he directed his sticky cock to my mouth.

  He didn’t give me a chance to try a little taste. He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and thrust deep, and I moaned. I loved his musky smell mixed with my own scent.

  Holding himself deep, he delivered a short lecture on how important it was for a submissive to be obedient. I could barely pay attention because I was trying not to gag, trying not to suffocate.