“Did I say something wrong?” Daniel said, taking a sip from his wine glass.
“You? No. It’s just that… I don’t know…”
“You don’t have to tell me, but I’m here.”
Alyx considered his offer to avoid tumbling down her rocky memory road, but then she went for it, “Well, honestly, I didn’t know much about what happened between my parents until my father died. I was eighteen. My mother left when I was three and I never got a straight answer from anyone about what happened. They simply said she’d run off. No reason why, not that she ran off with another man, or she had a nervous breakdown or anything.” Alyx cut a slice of steak and put it in her mouth, chewing, swallowing.
“So it was only my dad for all those years. We had a live-in housekeeper because his job took him away for long periods and sometimes he had to leave on the spur of the moment. He told me he worked for an oil company and he was the guy they called for global emergencies.
“I was a freshman at Columbia when one night a man showed up at my apartment and said he needed to speak with me. He identified himself with CIA credentials. Probably unwisely, I let him in. I’d no idea what he could possibly want. He told me he worked with my dad and had sad news. My father had been killed while on assignment in Libya and my dad had made him promise that in the event of his death he’d personally deliver this letter to me. I took it pretty hard, and this man, his name was David, stayed with me all night and talked to me, explaining as much as he could. He let me cry on his shoulder and held me for what seemed like hours.
“The letter explained so much. My mother left because she couldn’t stand being married to a man who was away so much and who, one day, might not come home at all. Originally, she thought she could handle it, but once I was born the reality of being hitched to a covert agent paralyzed her and she simply packed up and left.
“He left me a ton of money and I used a good chunk of it to buy my apartment in the city.”
“That must have been hard. Growing up without a mother and then losing your dad, too.” He placed a hand on top of Alyx’s and his pained expression saddened her.
“Twelve years is a lot of time. I’ve let it go.” Alyx slipped her hand out from under his and sipped at her glass of red wine. Silence, like a dark cloud, hung over them.
“So, you went to Columbia University. What did you study?”
Alyx smiled at him, glad to be exiting her parents’ sad story. “Actually, I started out as pre-med but got tired of memorizing all the formulas and scientific names, bored actually. My sophomore year I got interested in computers and considered systems engineering. Then I enrolled in a criminal justice course to fulfill my social science requirement and my professor got me all hot and bothered about a law career. I went on to Columbia law school and in my last year both the FBI and CIA courted me.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows. “You have a law degree?”
Alyx glared. “Why does that surprise you? I’m not a stupid woman.”
Daniel put down his fork. “I never assumed you to be stupid. Not for a minute. I admire you. I think you’re smart and brave, perhaps too brave for your own good.”
Alyx let her gaze fall into her lap, then picked up her fork and returned her attention to the delicious dinner Lydia had prepared, before continuing, “Well, anyway, both of the recruiters gave me the same line. I had areas of expertise in science, computers and law, which they found unusual and desirable. Plus, I spoke four languages. Languages came easy to me even before I went to college. My housekeeper wasn’t your garden-variety maid. She spent a lot of time teaching me Russian and Chinese. Spanish and French I learned in school.” Alyx laughed, recalling her crazy life with Greta, her surrogate mother, and a secret agent for a father.
“What’s so funny?”
“I was thinking about my life with Dad. He was a crazy dude. He used to play this stupid game with me, our own version of Mission Impossible. I didn’t know at the time how prophetic it was, or how close to reality. He must have had a ton of these ridiculous scenarios set up before he left, because sometimes, literally, he would get the call and be out of the house in fifteen minutes. Whenever he’d phone me, the music from MI would be the first thing I heard. He’d call me Agent Cameron and do the whole “should you decide to accept this mission and this message will destruct in the next five seconds.” Alyx waved her hand in the air.
“My heart would start pounding. He’d give me instructions and I couldn’t write them down, I had to remember them in my head. He’d send me all over the house and sometimes the neighborhood, on some ridiculous scavenger hunt, complete with clues, riddles, invisible ink, breaking into locked cabinets, all sorts of crazy. I loved it. In the end there’d be some surprise. A new article of clothing I wanted, or a book, or a video game. Something totally cool.”
* * *
A certain sadness invaded Daniel at the tale of Alyx’s childhood, one so different than his own. His parents sent him to a private high school and he found that many of his best friends didn’t live anywhere near his home. He had friends here, but the difference of being a local who came home to his house after school every day he hadn’t experienced. He’d gone to the Ross School during his elementary years and that was okay. In some ways his life was similar to Alyx’s during those early years, he, too, came home to the housekeeper. His mother worked long hours at her practice and his dad, a busy corporate attorney, spent most weekdays in their New York apartment. He often wondered how his parents stayed together so long. Perhaps the cliché was true—absence made the heart grow fonder? When his father passed away last year his mother had been devastated. The diagnosis of pancreatic cancer had hit them both hard, and watching his father whither, with no hope of recovery, took its toll on Daniel.
“You’re quiet all of a sudden. Did I depress you?” Alyx pushed her plate away.
“No.” Daniel inhaled, exhaled. “Maybe a bit, but mostly I was thinking of my own childhood.” Daniel explained his home life and his father’s recent death. He hadn’t really talked about it with anyone other than his mother, and Lacey. But somehow he found it easy to be honest with Alyx.
Lacey. If she knew what he was doing she’d kill him and he’d deserve her wrath. When he agreed to this he hadn’t really considered it cheating, but more like a job. Lacey didn’t tolerate anything about his former interest in the lifestyle and made him promise to dismantle the rec room. In fact, she’d levied that threat before she left for her Dubai business trip. But she’d be gone for another week and by then Alyx would be nothing but a memory. When he agreed to this arrangement he didn’t have a clue that it would be like this. He’d originally thought Alyx was a pain in the ass, and truthfully he didn’t think she’d actually show up, and then he predicted she wouldn’t last a day.
Now what could he do? He’d just have to get through the week and then banish Special Agent Alyx Cameron from his psyche.
Daniel set his iPod into the rec room’s speaker system and selected Alyx’s Top 25 Most Played list. He stood in front of her and pulled her naked body into him for a kiss. He didn’t recognize the song. As the lyrics filled his head, he said, “How appropriate. You taste like sugar. Who is this?”
Alyx smiled sweetly. “Match Box Twenty. The song is titled Like Sugar.”
“Slave position,” he ordered, pulling back from her warm, luscious body. Her smell drove him absolutely insane, to the point where he never wanted to shower again. Alyx sunk to her knees, shoulders squared, back straight, her upturned palms atop her thighs. She lowered her eyes and waited for his next command. Perfect.
“Tonight will be about endurance, Alyx. You need to have enough stamina to endure a scene for as long as your Dom expects. Think of it like acting in a play.” Daniel crouched in front of her. “Eyes on me.” Alyx raised her sparkling blue orbs to meet his. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and I’ve had a lengthy conversation with Jack. We’re going to try and make it so that you work only with Doms we know. S
ince we can’t blow your cover, we’ll make it appear as if you’re in training and will only work under the supervision of the guys employed by the club. If you’re in training, there’ll be more tolerance for any screw-ups, but you still have to be convincing.”
She stared at him but didn’t respond. Good, she was learning. “You may speak.”
“I appreciate that, Sir, it eases my anxiety.”
“I’m glad. Tonight I’m going to flog you again. But it will be more intense and last longer. This will most definitely be something you’ll do at the club and do often.” He got to his feet and extended both hands to help her up. The grasp of her warm fingers already had his pulse thrumming wildly. Why did she have such an effect on him? Almost unbearable. He wanted his hands all over her, his mouth following in the trails of his fingers.
He slowly positioned her heated body against the St. Andrews cross, his bare chest making contact with her back. Caressing her arm, he slid her petite wrist into the soft leather cuff and buckled it. His other hand slid up the outside of her thigh and followed the pathway to her breast. He squeezed and tugged on her nipple and she gave a little yelp. He smiled to himself. “You’re so responsive, my sweet. I confess I had no idea you would be like this.” She obediently remained silent. Perfect, again.
Grazing her nape with his lips, he nipped and licked his way to her ear. This time, she outright squealed and his dick twitched and pulsed. “Shush,” he ordered. Jesus, he didn’t think he would ever have enough of her and the thought that she’d soon be gone from his life nearly spiraled him into full-blown depression. He distracted himself with buckling her other wrist into the leather shackle. Pressed tightly against her, he pushed her body flush against the hard wood with the weight of his own. Sliding his hands up her restrained arms, he mimicked her pose. With her, he felt oneness. Or maybe he was merely a shadow, a shadow of her. Because he was nothing like this woman, she was too good for him. Was this admiration, or worship?
Peeling himself away from her warm flesh felt like he’d cut off his own skin. Gripping the flogger in his right hand, he snapped it in the air a few times. She didn’t even flinch this time.
“Ready?
“Yes, Sir.”
And he heard no fear, no apprehension, no anxiety. “Let’s see how long you can last, baby.”
He started out slow and easy, bringing her along gently. When the pace picked up and her muscles tightened. He moved in to assess her level. “Give me a color, baby.”
“Green,” she said breathlessly. He stroked her hair affectionately and gazed into her half-lidded eyes. He’d bring her there slowly, deliberately, passionately.
“Good, girl. Relax into it. Keep your muscles loose,” he said before inching back and beginning anew. He worked her up to yellow, but had to stop. Not because she needed it to cease. He did. He couldn’t make it through another minute of this torture. He needed inside her. Now.
* * *
The sound of the lash’s snap, the feel of the stinging pain, the heat spreading across her skin. The startle… the thrill… the excitement… the arousal… the tingle… the breathing… the racing pulse… the sweat moistening her skin.
Heat. Snap. Sting. Searing fire. Snap. Sting. Heat. The pain, the pleasure, all blurred together. Impossible to tell the difference.
His soft hands soothed her flaming skin and the heat of passion became unbearable. His thick fingers pushed inside her and her cry of pure ecstasy escaped.
He let her come and she was grateful, because otherwise she’d have disobeyed when she exploded into a million pieces.
“Oh, baby, you were spectacular. I’m so proud of you.” Alyx couldn’t believe how satisfied she felt, both from the amazing, mind-blowing orgasm and the fact that she’d pleased Daniel. She couldn’t let herself think how fucked up this was and how much she needed to make him happy. Yeah, fucked up, blissfully fucked.
“I need to be inside you, baby. I need it so bad.” His lips pressed against her ear, his tongue slipped inside and she shivered. He groaned. “Right here, I’m going to fuck you right here strapped against the cross.”
“Please, Sir,” she whimpered, speaking without permission. She didn’t care. She wanted him to force himself inside her so badly she’d beg.
Her legs still shackled into a wide V against the hard wood, he rammed his hard shaft into her. He held her wrists and thrust into her in violent pushes. She couldn’t keep silent. “Oh, God.”
“Yes, baby, let me hear you. Let me know how much you like this.” His words shoved her near the edge and she didn’t know how much longer she could hold back. Her vagina started to tighten and she sensed the wave coming, a tidal wave of pure ecstasy and she wanted it so badly.
“Please, Daniel, let me come. I can’t hold out any longer.”
“Not yet, baby. Resist.” Their breaths came in a pounding syncopating rhythm, their cries merging into one lustful utterance. He pounded into her and she gripped the metal hooks, melding the shackles to the cross to anchor herself. She needed to hold on for dear life before she rocketed into the ceiling and disappeared into unconsciousness. Death by orgasm. What a way to go.
“Now,” he ordered. “Come now, baby.” And she did. And he did. It was the most incredible eruption of passion. Rivulets of sweat streamed off her body as every part of her throbbed. His breath landed heavy on the side of her face. He caught her chin in his hand. His tongue plundered her mouth as they both struggled to draw air into their lungs. The kiss ended, but his face stayed close, his nose pressed against hers. They remained silent like this for a pseudo-moment, suspended in time. And then he chuckled, little exhalations tickling her nose. She could sense his smile against her cheek.
“Fuck, Alyx, what are you doing to me? You’ve bewitched this jaded man.”
Alyx struggled not to grimace. What the hell were they doing? This couldn’t be, could it? Her heart fucking with her head.
* * *
They’d showered separately because Daniel needed distance after that mind-blowing sex. He’d said too much, sounded too much like Mr. Relationship. A bad move, and he knew it. Returning to her room, he tucked her into bed once again and headed toward his bedroom. A heaviness filled his chest. Thoughts of Saturday started to depress him. He couldn’t decide what pained him more, the thought that she’d be gone from his house or fear of placing her into the slaver’s sadistic murderous hands. Running his hand across the back of his neck he realized he’d been holding his breath, his pulse pounding. He should talk her out of this beyond-crazy danger.
He settled under the covers and stared into the abyss of dark ceiling, his hands laced behind his neck. No moon tonight and he couldn’t count the bright squares that usually dotted the wall. He let out a long breath and wondered if his little subbie had fallen asleep yet. The concept of her so close, and yet so far? Pure torture. He wanted her here next to him, but couldn’t. This was business. He stared at the clock. Nearly midnight. Eight more hours before he could see her. Unexpectedly, his bed felt too big, too cold, he couldn’t identify what had come over him. Until—loneliness. He wanted her warm-blooded body next to him.
Fuck it. Jumping out of bed, he ran down the hall and found himself standing in front of her door. Technically, she was still on his time and she would have to do whatever he wanted. He didn’t have to explain himself. He was the Dom.
Knocking softly on the door, he pushed it open, hoping not to startle her. “Alyx, are you awake?”
“Yes,” she whispered in the darkness.
Walking directly for her, he threw back the covers, scooped her into his arms and flung her over his shoulder. She gasped and squealed and he swatted her ass gently as he marched down the hallway.
In the dimness, he slid her off his shoulder and eased her into his bed, then snuggled in next to her and stretched the covers over them. She didn’t say a word. He heard her every breath. He felt winded, but it wasn’t from exertion. “Turn onto your side.” She swiveled toward him. “Th
e other way.”
Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her into his chest, tucked her head under his chin and inhaled the honeyed scent of her silky hair. Her body felt rigid against his. “Breathe, Alyx,” he murmured into her ear. She exhaled slowly and he felt tension leaving her muscles. “And relax, we both need some sleep.”
So much for putting distance between them.
Once again, he thought of Lacey. He’d only known Lacey six months when she asked him to marry her. He’d never mentioned his BDSM involvement and had no intention of ever doing so until she’d stumbled on the rec room one afternoon. He’d been in there trying to figure out the best way to dismantle it before she moved in, when she unexpectedly showed up. That had been a nightmare of a day. She didn’t speak to him for an entire week until he finally assured her he’d left that life behind.
Guilt pinged against his ribcage. He should’ve told Lacey what he was doing this week. But she’d already left the country and telling her on the phone seemed too risky. She refused to even entertain an exploration into any aspects of a kinkier sex life and he’d finally conceded that this was as good as it would get. She’d called him twice already, but he blew her off, claiming the connection was bad.
Besides, his little subbie would be long gone before Lacey got home. It was meaningless sex anyway, something she’d never understand.
Lacey was all about plans for the future. That would be good for him, he never mused about his tomorrows, and especially when it came to the wedding. She’d take care of everything and he wouldn’t have to do jack. She already had the honeymoon all planned out—traipsing through Europe for an entire month, when actually he’d prefer parking his ass on a beach and playing a little golf or tennis. Lacey would never go for that. Heaven forbid she broke a nail or something equally dreadful.
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