by Rynne Raines
“Do you really have to ask?”
“I suppose I do.”
“It’s simple.” He contemplated her a moment then tilted his head. “I want you.”
This time her low sigh did escape, and she couldn’t ignore the flash of satisfaction in his eyes.
And who was she kidding? She wanted his hands on her, his mouth on her, his thick cock pounding her. More than anything, she wanted to feel the bond his dominance would provide, even if it were only temporary.
Agreeing to his terms would give her time to discover whether or not her feelings for him were merely an illusion fashioned by a seductive setting, or mutual attraction, or fantastic sex. At the same time, she might discover what she felt for him wasn’t an illusion at all. If that happened, Bianca winced, she’d be back at square one, alone and with even more memories to torment her at night.
She forced herself to stop fidgeting with the sapphire pendant dangling from the thin gold chain strung around her neck and swallowed hard. “When exactly would we start?”
“Now.”
Chapter Three
The balancing wire was thirty feet above ground. Cade could see the crowd in the stands. The hushed whispers burned in his ears while his heart hammered against his ribcage. Don’t look down. Just don’t look. Any second the wire could snap and plunge him into a hole so deep it would take the rest of his life to scale.
But he wouldn’t back down now. This was what he wanted, needed.
Cade didn’t realize he was holding his breath until his lungs screamed for air. Even then, he barely inhaled enough to remain conscious while Bianca silently weighed his proposal. Her eyes stayed locked on the tan and burgundy abstract design on the area rug.
To hell with patience.
“The answer’s simple; yes or no.”
When her gaze met his, the flash of excitement was unmistakable and Cade relished every last spark.
Though he wanted to close the distance, drag her to the floor and bury his cock inside her slick pussy until sunrise, he stayed himself, feigned disinterest, and kept his body language relaxed. A good Dom always had control over all emotions involved, in joy or in anger—it kept the playing field safe for all parties.
“Do you agree to these terms?”
Her slight overbite had her front teeth sinking into her lower lip. He wanted to run his tongue against them, kiss her, taste her. God, did he want to taste her.
“Five days…no strings attached?”
Cade flexed the muscle in his jaw, battling the irritation that came with her eagerness to be rid of him. Despite that, he managed a cool incline of his head. “You remember that I don’t do safe words—are you still comfortable with that?”
She nodded instead of answering and he decided that was the first thing they’d start with. He would not accept silent consent.
“Say it.” He lowered his tone an octave and saw the recognition in her eyes. “And prove it. Assume the submissive position.”
She fidgeted with the hem of her corset, fingers winding into the thin fabric. Her nervous energy struck him like a slugger in the chest. Worse, it sparked the primal, possessive animal inside him—he wanted to claim her.
Cade closed the distance to where she stood, placed two fingers under her chin and lifted. Christ, she had to be the only woman in Los Angeles without a tan. Her pale China-doll complexion, deep red hair and pastel blue eyes made her a rarity in this city. However, her unique appearance was merely an attractive shell. The real treasure hid deep beneath it.
“On your knees,” he said in his Dom voice, level and low.
This time there was no hesitation.
She sank in front of him, arms behind her back, chest held high, and knees shoulder width apart. As she shifted, her skirt rode up. His cock ached from the sight of elegant garters clipped to two bands of black lace at the top of her stockings. He fought back a moan.
The woman always did wear the sexiest lingerie.
Head slightly angled, she awaited his next command. He stepped back a foot so he could see her, adapted a casual stance, then folded his arms over his chest. “Now pull up your skirt.”
“Cade—”
“Don’t test me, Bianca,” he warned.
Those dark lashes dusted against her creamy cheekbones before she locked eyes with him. The struggle for power had his cock hardening and straining against the fly of his jeans. Test me, Bianca. Test me and I’ll brand that sweet ass with my palm until you can’t sit for days without thinking of me.
Finally, she let out a sigh, moistened her lips with her tongue, grasped the hem of her skirt, and slid it upward until the fabric pooled around her waist.
God loves you, Sinclair.
Lavender. Of course, her panties would be lavender.
He almost lost it.
“Spread your knees more.”
Her breasts nodded with heavy breaths and he could see her trembling. However, she skimmed her knees outward on the carpet. At the sight of lace darkened by moisture, his cock jerked. Of any sub he’d ever dominated, she’d always been the most responsive to verbal commands and it absolutely undid him. But the muscles in her legs were taut and her back still rigid.
He walked a slow half circle, swiped his leather jacket from the coat rack then pulled a chair up behind her.
“Bend over.” The coat landed in a heap on the floor in front of her but she only stared at it. With a quiet sigh, he placed a hand on the back of her neck and gently guided her head down on the jacket so her ass presented high and round between his legs.
“I hope you don’t promote this type of disobedience in your classes. You’re to comply with my commands immediately. No hesitation.” Had she forgotten everything he’d taught her about the D/s relationship? “Tell me, are you nervous?”
She sighed. “What do you think?”
“Why?” He ran his fingers in a long line over her back and she shivered. “Answer.”
“I—I don’t know.” He smoothed his palms over her ass, stroked his thumbs against the string of lace between her cheeks. She panted. He skimmed her moist slit and she jolted, but he squeezed his knees together and locked her in place.
“There must be a reason.” He pulled her panties down until they were at the crease of her thighs. Beautiful. With lazy delight, he dragged his knuckles between her glistening folds, then leaned down and blew a soft stream of breath over her most sensitive flesh.
“Oh, God.” Although she vibrated and tried to wriggle away, he wouldn’t allow it. Not until he got an answer.
“You were never this rebellious before. Whatever Master you’ve had lately has done a piss-poor job of training you.”
“There haven’t been any others.” She moaned and rocked back against his hand, against his fingers that lightly caressed her slick cleft.
“By the looks of things, our entire week will be spent punishing—wait. What did you just say?”
“You. You’re the only one.”
The earth moved under him. His vision blurred as he stared at the small of her back. An elephant had somehow found its way into his office and sat directly on his chest. He was sure of it. That was the only thing that could cause this type of ache.
He toyed with her clit and her fingers curled into the leather jacket. “Please. Please, don’t stop.”
Normally he would have stopped to reaffirm his dominant position, but her allure over him was savage and unyielding. Her pleasure was his pleasure. And he wanted to please her, not only as a Dom, but as a lover and a man.
“Please,” she whispered and he refused to make her ask again.
With a quick thrust, he shoved his middle and index fingers inside her soaked pussy, then swore when she moaned. If he didn’t find a way to distract himself, this might be the first time he’d come before getting out of the gate. Instead, he focused on the language of her breathing, the signs of her shudders. He spread his fingers slightly, stretching her pussy while lightly scraping his thumb over her swol
len clit.
There was no inhibition now.
She impaled herself on his fingers, had his jacket fisted in her hands. The long slope of her back shifted—up, then down—as she rocked. When he noticed she was trying to choose a rhythm that would bring her to climax, he tightened his hold and controlled the pace.
“You’ve never let another master you?” He needed to hear it again, needed confirmation he hadn’t lost his damn mind.
“No,” she muffled into his leather jacket.
“Is that the truth, or what you think I want to hear?” He leaned over her back and brushed his mouth lightly over her spine.
“I—it’s the truth.” Her words were strangled, a harsh rasp of sound. Tiny beads of sweat gathered between her fine shoulder blades and memories flooded him. Nothing had ever brought him more pleasure than seeing Bianca reach orgasm. He remembered the way her jaw would clench as a low moan vibrated in her throat, how her inner thighs quivered just before the eruption. How could he have gone so long without this woman? In that moment, he made a decision. It wasn’t about closure anymore or cleansing his system of an old flame. He wanted her, pure and simple, and by no means in a temporary way.
“You will always tell me the truth, Bianca. Understand?”
“Yes,” she sighed.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes…Master.”
“Good girl.” It killed him to withdraw his fingers, yank up her panties and give her a swat on the ass. “Get up, angel. We’re leaving.”
“W—wha—where? No,” she sobbed.
The sound nearly broke him, but he needed to think long-term. If he wanted to keep her in his life after these five days were up, he needed her to realize they shared more than just a physical connection.
He rounded to his desk, plucked a tissue from the box, and wiped her cream from his fingers. If one drop of her sweet honey touched his tongue, Cade knew they’d never leave the office. And that would ruin his new strategy. Giving in to his primal urges this early in the game wouldn’t get him anywhere. He needed her full submission.
When he looked back to see her staring up at him, her breasts heaving and her eyes heavy with desire, he stopped breathing for a good twenty seconds.
“I’m starving.” God, she was beautiful. “Let’s get dinner.”
****
“These boots weren’t made for walkin’,” she grumbled under her breath, as her heel caught in a cement crack outside the rear entrance of Halo. However, when Bianca’s gaze settled on Cade’s tight ass, she decided it wasn’t the boots that turned her legs into gelatin. She narrowed her eyes and burrowed her stare into his thick chestnut waves.
Bastard.
Four streetlamps lit the parking lot. One towered in each corner, casting long shadows over the ground. As her eyes scanned several vehicles, she found herself wondering which belonged to Cade. Not the Mercedes—too flashy. Not the Porsche—the curves were too seductive and feminine. The Chevy half-ton suited him a bit more, but she couldn’t imagine him behind the wheel of a vehicle that read, “Born To Be Bad” in purple down the side of it.
Then, there it was…steel perfection.
The lines were fluid and beautiful, yet somehow with the perfect amount of arrogance. Dual chrome exhaust railed the length, distinguished against the shiny black powder coat riding up over the engine and fenders. The motorcycle wasn’t the newest model she’d seen but, by far, it was the most impressive—massive, powerful and terrifying…just like its owner.
Bianca slapped her hands on her hips, tapped the toe of her boot against asphalt and blatantly gawked. “You don’t seriously expect me to get on the back of that thing.”
Cade flashed a try me grin over his shoulder as he reached into the saddlebag.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those anti-motorcycle people, ‘cause if you are, I might have to rethink this entire arrangement out of principle.”
Perhaps she should tell him that. Bianca scowled. With every passing second, she was beginning to think making such a rash bargain with the devil was at the top of her list of stupid decisions. Instead, she stuck out her tongue and rolled her eyes, indifferent to whether or not she came off as a pouty six-year-old.
“I didn’t say I was anti-motorcycle.” She frowned as he pulled out a second helmet he obviously intended for her to wear.
“Hey, during our week together I remember mentioning I had one and, if I recall correctly, your exact response was, ‘mmm, how sexy,’” he cocked his head, “or was that just a line you used to ensnare me?”
Bianca glared up at him and decided to bite her tongue. In truth, she had thought it was sexy. Very sexy, actually, but that was before he expected her to get on it. Plus, four years ago she’d been a more adventurous woman. Now, she had bigger responsibilities, a direction in life, and something she wanted to accomplish before she ran face-first into the asphalt at eighty miles per hour.
“Ye have little faith in my ability to drive a motorcycle?”
“Well…” her shoulders sank at his arched eyebrow, “…now that you mention it, I honestly don’t know if you can or can’t drive one. It’s not as if I know a lot about you. We spent all of, what, six nights and a day together.”
Her fear of becoming road-kill was making her bitchy and she hated it. However, Cade disregarded her tantrum, gently smoothed her hair back from her face and over her shoulders, then plopped the beanie helmet on her head.
“Six nights and a day spent naked. And believe it or not,” he said, fastening the chinstrap for her, “during that time, I guarantee you discovered more about me than any other woman ever will.”
She wiggled her head back and forth—the helmet fit her well, the strap snug.
“Put this on.” With the bike straddled between his powerful thighs, he gave it a rev and held up his scarred leather coat. “Might get a bit drafty once we hit a hundred.”
She paused with one arm in the oversized sleeve and shot him a pointed stare. His quick burst of laughter sang in her ears, but it wasn’t enough to loosen the boa constrictor coiled around her stomach.
“You need to lighten up, angel, or this is going to be the longest five days of your life.”
Try to find the humor in it, Bianca. There were worse things than riding on the back of a sleek motorcycle with a gorgeous Dom willing to take her to dinner. Yes, things could have been far worse.
“Fine. At least tell me where we’re going.”
“Nope. Surprise.”
Damn, she’d always been a sucker for surprises, and he knew it. With a long defeated breath, she threw one leg over the seat and straddled the massive beast of nuts and bolts.
The engine purred. Slight vibrations through the seat coursed up her inner thighs, against her clit. She inhaled the rich scent of leather, of Cade’s spicy cologne from the collar of his jacket, flipped up and curved around her neck. If she closed her eyes, she could easily lose herself. He revved the engine and her stomach muscles clenched, her damp cleft pulsing. She tightened her arms around his waist as a shudder rippled through her. Oh, Lord, it would serve him right if she reached climax before they left the parking lot. His earlier teasing had pushed her near insanity.
But before she could get further acquainted with her new best friend, Cade reached back and yanked her forward on the seat until her crotch was snug against the small of his back.
“Don’t want to lose you on the first turn,” he said in a serious tone.
She immediately jumped to get off and he stilled her with a firm hand on her thigh.
“Relax—a joke, small joke.”
“Yeah, you’re a first-rate comedian.” She was tempted to take a painful nip of his earlobe, but lost her nerve when he rubbed his palm the length of her thigh to her knee, then back to her hip under the hem of her skirt. The man had sin written all over him, Bianca decided. If he was trying to make her moan, he was doing a good job. However, two could play at this game.
Rolling her hips forward, she grou
nd her crotch against his ass and lowered her hand from his waist to between his legs. As she traced her fingers up the center hem of his jeans and over the bulge of his cock, he released a low growl.
For a minute, she forgot all about the dangers of rocketing down the interstate on two wheels with no seatbelt.
“Promise me you’ll take it slow.”
“I never make promises I can’t keep—whatever you do, don’t let go.”
Bianca scowled, tightened her arms around his waist, pressed her face into his back, and clung for dear life.
****
“Oh, my God!” Bianca ripped off her helmet, shook out her mass of knotted hair and savored the rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins. Absolute freedom. Those were the only words to describe it.
“And…she’s hooked.” Cade flashed his straight white teeth, took the helmet from her, and shoved it back into the side compartment.
“When do we get to do it again?” she demanded.
“After we eat.”
Though her bottom lip drooped, she sucked it back between her teeth and smiled as a warm kiss of air caressed her cheeks. She lifted her face into the breeze and welcomed every tickle. Then, as she noticed the burgundy canopy above her head, the smile was replaced with a frown.
“Diego’s?” She gaped at Cade then cast another glance at the sign above the five-star restaurant. “I can’t go into a restaurant like Diego’s dressed like this!”
“I like how you’re dressed.”
“Um, I’m flattered. Even so, being mistaken for a prostitute wasn’t really on my agenda for the night.” She gnawed on her fingernail and smoothed a shaky hand over her mini-skirt.
“For the love of God.” He swore. “You don’t look like a prostitute. You’re stunning. C’mon, wait until you see the dessert menu. Knowing you, and I think I do, you’ll have an orgasm from reading the first page.” He grasped her wrist and dragged her toward the entrance.
“Cade, no, they’ll kick us out.”
“No, they won’t. I happen to be a very good customer.” Bianca dug her heels into the cement, but it was no use. The bastard was strong as an ox.
