Pure Sin

by Rynne Raines

  “Oh, please, don’t make me go in there. Let’s get pizza—my treat.”

  “Enough.” His voice was calm but low and she quickly recognized he was asserting his dominance over her. “I like how you’re dressed. I like how you look. And I honestly don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks. Neither should you. As my submissive your only concern should be to please me.”

  “I know, but—”

  “No buts.” He leaned and traced his mouth over hers. “Trust. In. Me.” He punctuated each work with a light kiss, one on her chin, the tip of her nose, then in the center of her forehead.

  They stepped inside the entrance and an air bubble lodged between her ribs. “Lavish” didn’t begin to describe the décor.

  “It’ll be okay.” Cade squeezed her hand. “Trust me.”

  She pressed her lips in a tight line and nodded.

  Time to summon those nerves of steel her mother always teased her about.

  They crossed the polished cream marble and stopped near a cushioned, deep claret and golden-colored framed settee.

  Breathe, Bianca.

  A thin little man behind a half-podium stroked his wiry gray mustache while cradling a phone receiver to his tiny head. Upon catching sight of them, he quickly said his goodbyes and slammed down the phone.

  “Mr. Sinclair!” he roared. “How good to see you!”

  Bianca jumped at the sound. Who would have expected that booming voice lived inside that skinny little body?

  “You, too, Oliver. Busy tonight?”

  “Oh, yes! Yes, very busy, but as always, your table is open.”

  Your table is open? Bianca arched an eyebrow.

  “Good to hear I still have some pull around here,” Cade replied and winked again at her.

  “Good evening, Miss. Right this way.”

  Bianca fought to keep her mouth from draping when Oliver warmly smiled at her, scooped up two menus, then lead the way into the restaurant.

  “Wow, you weren’t kidding,” she whispered. “You eat here every day or something?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Oliver zigzagged between several round tables draped in floor-length white linen. With a single glass rose bowl and candle centered on each table, the setting was intimate, yet not overly pretentious. The mood lighting had some of the tension easing from her shoulders. She had almost reached a comfortable level of tranquility when they were seated at a relatively private half-circle booth across from the bar.

  “Barkley will be right with you. Beverages?”

  “Got a bottle of cream soda hiding behind that bar?” Cade inquired. Bianca choked.

  “I’m sure I can find some, Sir.”

  “Great. I’ll have the usual.”

  “Very good, Sir.”

  As Oliver shuffled off to the bar, she turned in the booth and gaped. “Cream soda?” she whispered in a harsh tone.

  “It was your favorite four years ago.”

  “How in the hell do even remember that?”

  “It could have something to do with what your tongue was tracing before you—”

  Bianca planted a firm finger against his lips and stifled a burst of laughter. A flush of excitement washed over her. “You’re insane.”

  “In comparison to whom, exactly?” Unfazed, he unraveled the silverware from a napkin before setting the creamy satin cloth over her lap.

  “Everyone.” She slapped at his fingers when they lingered a little too long on her upper thigh. “You can’t just order a bottle of cream soda in a place like this.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  “I—It just isn’t appropriate,” she muttered, unable to come up with a better reason.

  “Tell me something.” He glided across the bench until their thighs touched, then brought his lips dangerously close to her ear. “What good is coming to a restaurant like this if you don’t get exactly what you want?”

  His breath was warm against her skin, arousing, impossible to ignore. Her lashes fluttered against her cheek while his large hand slid under the leather jacket across her waist, then up her ribcage. She shuddered as his thumb lightly brushed over her nipple.

  “Haven’t you already eaten here once today?” A chipper voice jerked Bianca from the moment and had her eyes snapping up at the rotund waiter, who beamed like a hundred-watt bulb. Somehow she’d forgotten they were sitting inside a half-capacity five-star restaurant.

  “What can I say, I’m addicted.” Cade grinned.

  “Ha!” The man clucked. “And who is this lovely?”

  “Bianca, meet Barkley.”

  The plump Barkley set down a basket of bread, then leaned all the way across the table to snatch up her hand. His thick mustache tickled her skin as he planted what was, in Bianca’s opinion, a rather enchanting kiss on the tips of her fingers.

  “It’s good to finally see this one with a woman, I was beginning to wonder if he—”

  “Watch it,” Cade warned in a playful tone that had Barkley wrinkling his wide nose.

  “All right, enough conversation—you come to eat, yes?”

  Before Bianca could say she hadn’t had a chance to browse the menu, Cade ordered a long list of food for both of them.

  “Excellent choices!” Barkley slapped a wide palm against the table and bounded toward the kitchen.

  Bianca directed a pointed stare at Cade and wondered if he ordered for all his dinning partners or just her.

  “What?” He draped a napkin over his own lap. “You don’t like shellfish anymore?”

  “No, that isn’t it.” She sighed at the irritation in her tone. “I love it, but then I probably mentioned that to you.”

  “What’s the problem then?”

  “The problem is I could have ordered for myself.”

  “Hmm.” He reached for his water and took a small sip. “Would you have ordered shellfish?”

  “Well…” Bianca smoothed her hands over her napkin and wanted to lie through her teeth. “…Yes, I probably would have ordered some kind of shellfish.”

  Cade cradled his head against his hand and stared at her. “They prepare really good shellfish.”

  Frustrated, she huffed at a wisp of hair on her forehead. “It’s not about the shellfish. I haven’t let someone order for me since I was in pigtails.”

  He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, as if trying to picture what she would look like with her hair in tails. She found it hard not to laugh. “Stop looking at me like that. Much as I’m sure you’re accustom to dominating every situation, dining included, I’m a grown woman. I can read a damned menu.”

  “Are you finished?”

  When she reached for her cream soda, intent on dousing him, his large hand clasped over her wrist and pinned it to the white linen tablecloth. Irritated, she jerked her arm, but his grip made it impossible to move.

  “Let’s get one thing clear…I was never a fan of pigtails.”

  She sank her teeth into her lower lip and promised herself she would not scream.

  “Retract the claws, angel,” he soothed. “I didn’t order for you with the purpose of dominating the situation. I ordered for you because I eat here frequently and I thought you’d enjoy what I ordered. However,” he stroked the pad of his thumb against the inside of her wrist, “regardless of my intent, as my submissive you should be pleased to accept my will with even the most basic things. As your Dominant, it’s my responsibility to fulfill your needs, even if it’s only for the next five days. Over the duration I will not put you in a situation where you could get hurt and I will never push you beyond what you’re capable of.”

  She finally understood what she’d gotten herself into. He was asking her for complete submission concerning everything, not just behind closed doors. Being a Dom wasn’t only about sex for him. This was his lifestyle inside and outside the bedroom.

  Isn’t that what she’d agreed to?

  “Do you fully accept me as your Master, Bianca?”

  Before she could answer him,
Barkley returned to the table and set out two metal pyramids of melting butter kept warm by a small tea light. As her gaze wavered with the distraction, she realized Cade’s never did. His intense emerald eyes remained concrete on hers, searching, waiting for a response.

  As shadows played over his strong, determined jaw, candle light drew her eyes to where it danced along his sensual lips. A voice inside her screamed, and warned how dangerous agreeing to his request would be. She could separate her emotions from the act between two consenting adults for mutual pleasure, if need be. But let him into all aspects of her life?

  That was another story.

  “Yes,” she agreed, before she sprouted feathers and bolted for the deepest, darkest hole she could find. “I’m sorry if I came off overly defensive. I’ve been on my own a long time now and I value my independence.”

  “I would never take that independence from you, ever.” He broke off a piece of bread and handed it to her. “It happens to be a quality of yours I admire, among a few others.”

  His quick wink had her heart doing a somersault. How had she forgotten how he made her laugh? Along with his irresistible Dominant persona, he was a man who possessed an easy, relaxed way about him that had always appealed to her.

  Their first night together, she’d been nervous as hell, but he hadn’t pressured her or been angry when discovering her inexperience with kink. Instead, he’d asked about her likes and dislikes, wants and needs. Of course, she hadn’t answered with anything that would reveal her true identity—the rules of the masquerade had strictly forbidden it.

  But she’d always answered honestly, and his genuine interest in her made things easier. By their second night she was completely at ease with him, as if they’d been lovers for years. Perhaps that’s what bothered her most, and what had her insides knotting. It would be so simple to fall back into that relaxed routine, even if it meant a broken heart in the process.

  Chapter Four

  “It’s official,” Bianca threw her head back and beamed with a satisfied smile. “You can order for me anytime you want.”

  Cade chuckled and gave a nod of appreciation to Barkley as he cleared the plates. It had been a joy watching her moan over the succulent lobster tail and rice pilaf, then pass on the side dish of julienne carrots, and finally try to sneak the last piece of fish off his plate when he wasn’t looking. Unlike most women he knew, Bianca wasn’t the type who ordered salad when she really wanted a fat, juicy steak. Nor was she the type to nibble on her food when she really wanted to devour it. She was a woman unashamed of her healthy eating habits, and it delighted him.

  “I hope you haven’t completely filled the tank. There’s still dessert.” He wiped his mouth and tossed the napkin on the table.

  “Oh, no,” she waved her arms, “I only indulge in sweets when I’m depressed or after I have an orga….” Her words trailed off as he slid his hand under the table, beneath the napkin rested over her lap, and slowly up her skirt.

  “Ah, yes,” he murmured. “I recall you mentioning something about that. Well, the dessert here is a must and I couldn’t bring myself to intentionally depress you.”

  When he hooked a finger around her panties and tugged them aside, her knee jerked and the rose bowl on the table jumped. The restaurant wasn’t nearly as full as it had been when they’d arrived, yet a few patrons on the far side of the room, who still lingered with their desserts and coffee, glanced up at the clatter.

  “Cade,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?” He stroked two fingers up and down her damp cleft and watched her shiver. “I think it’s pretty damn obvious.”

  “That’s not what I meant—people are looking.”

  “No, they aren’t.” He pushed his fingers inside her and her knees clamped on his wrist. “Even if they were, it would only be because you’re drawing attention to us. Relax. I know this excites you.”

  It was his intent all along to bring them to this moment. Although dining with her was more enjoyment than he’d experienced in a long time, it wasn’t why he brought her here. Tonight he was determined to break down her walls, put her at ease in every situation, and take her to a place where she’d never been before. By putting her in such an uncomfortable position, he was risking everything. But in doing so, she would either run from him or accept him.

  It was a gamble he needed to take.

  “What if someone sees us?”

  “It’s dark in here and the tablecloth covers you.” He circled his thumb over her swollen clit and worked his digits slowly past his knuckles inside her pussy, then out again. “And, if someone does see us, I guarantee they’ll be too conservative to say anything about it.”

  “Oh, well now, that makes it all better then, doesn’t’ it?” Her eyes darted from table to table before settling back on his face.

  “Have you forgotten everything I taught you?” he asked, slightly annoyed.

  “No.”

  “Then why is your attention on every person in this restaurant rather than on how my fingers feel inside you? Pleasuring you pleases me. Don’t you want to please me, Bianca?”

  “I do.” She sighed and unlocked her thighs a measure, granting him better access. Satisfaction roared through him on an unbelievable scale. It wasn’t long before her eyes became desire-heavy and warm.

  “Does it feel good?”

  “Oh, yes,” she whispered in a husky tone and clutched at the tablecloth.

  Between the foreplay in his office, the ride over and now this, he knew she was on the pinnacle of release, which meant it was time to push the boundaries a little farther.

  With his free hand, he gestured to Barkley, who stood near the bar with Oliver.

  “W—what are you doing?”

  “Hush, it’s all right,” he murmured. “No one will know my hand’s up your skirt unless you tell them.”

  The man wasn’t the average asylum escapee, Bianca decided. He was a stark raving lunatic!

  Barkley quickly noticed the signal and rushed toward them. Her face burned and her muscles tightened around Cade’s fingers as the room swayed before her eyes in a series of distorted shapes and colors. With the chance of getting caught, her heart hammered in her chest. Who knew that this would have made her hotter than she’d ever been? As the answer popped into her mind, she wanted to curse.

  Cade knew.

  He’d always known the right buttons to push, and was still doing a damn fine job of it under the table when Barkley approached.

  “Can I offer you both dessert?” he asked with a wide smile.

  “You can.” Cade smiled back. “Have any of that Belgium chocolate cheesecake left?”

  “We do.”

  “How does that sound, angel?” He curled his fingers back and applied pressure against her G-spot.

  “Good,” she replied with a heady breath. “Excellent.”

  “What the lady wants, the lady gets. One fork’ll do.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  As Barkley disappeared through the kitchen doors, Bianca let out a long shivering breath and narrowed her eyes. “You’re scandalous.”

  “And you’re beautiful,” he said, not the least bit put off. “I want you to come for me.”

  “Here?” She gasped.

  “Here,” he echoed. “I know you can do it.”

  She nibbled her lower lip and scanned the room for the thirteenth time. Although there were still customers, they were in their own worlds, in their own discussions. She wondered if they had any idea at all what was going on beneath the table only twenty feet away.

  This was wrong on so many levels. But why in the hell did wrong have to feel so good?

  “Don’t look at them,” he demanded in that low Dom voice. “Look at me. Feel me.”

  She shifted her eyes to his. The elaborate décor, the candle light, and the soft muffled voices collapsed into nothing more than a mere background to the sensation of his touch, to the pressure of his fin
gertips stroking inside her.

  There was nothing but him.

  The air was a cyclone of electrical currents. A mass of static hummed in her ears. She didn’t care about rules of propriety or social codes. All she cared about was the way he was making her feel…dangerous, excited, sinful.

  Deep in the back of her mind, she knew this was his way of establishing dominance over her, showing her that he would touch her whenever and wherever they were if the mood struck him. That thought alone made the inner walls of her pussy clench.

  Images of Cade bending her over the table in front of everyone and taking her from behind flooded her head. Her breasts heaved, a series of quiet, labored sighs burned from her throat…

  “Oh, God.” She choked on her climax, gasped, and her eyes flew open at the taste of rich, chocolate heaven melting on her tongue. A violent shudder ripped though her as she stared at Cade who carefully withdrew the fork from her mouth, then his fingers from her slick sheath. He cocked his head, arched a dark eyebrow, and a slow sensual smile drew up the corners of his mouth.

  “Is everything all right, Mr. Sinclair?” Barkley’s concern axed into Bianca’s thoughts and she desperately fought to compose herself.

  “Couldn’t be better,” Cade replied.

  “And you, Miss, is the dessert to your satisfaction?”

  “Oh,” she pressed her hand to her throat, swallowed hard then smiled, “yes, it’s…pure sin.”

  “Wonderful!” Barkley clapped and his loud chuckle sent his round belly bouncing. “Then I won’t keep you from it—oh, one thing before I forget. Angelo mentioned the stock of Chardonnay is running low.”

  “I’ll take care of it tomorrow, thanks.” Cade gave an absent nod and held up another forkful of cheesecake for her.

  When Barkley made himself scarce for the third time, Bianca shook her head and let out a low groan. “You work here too?”

  “I own it.” He wiggled the fork. “And I think that little outburst just increased Diego’s reputation tenfold. We’ll be packed this weekend.”

  Lord, he was an impossible man not to smile back at, she thought, and didn’t bother trying to contain the giddy energy that bubbled out in a blissful laugh. She snatched the fork from him, savored another heavenly bite of dessert, then winked. “Glad I could boost sales.”