Owned By Fate

by Tessa Bailey

  Her breath released in a rush. Jonah waited in limbo as a thousand different emotions radiated from her. Then she met his lips hard, legs spreading wide on the dresser between their bodies. A triumphant growl grated his throat, hands going to her knees to push them even wider. Wanting to keep his eyes on her but unable to keep them open because she tasted so sweet, he kissed down her neck, breasts, and belly until his mouth found her center. He savored her in a long lick, glorying in more of that addictive whimpering from above.

  “When I left your office yesterday, did you do as I told you?”

  The barest hesitation. “Y-yes.”

  Jonah rewarded her honesty by sliding his middle finger beneath her, pushing it deep inside her. She shot forward on the dresser with a husky moan, but he settled her back with a hand on her heaving chest. “Tell me what sent you over the edge. Did the idea of my cock pushing past those prim and proper lips excite you? It excites the fuck out of me, sweetheart.”

  Caroline cried out when he gently licked over her clitoris, polishing it with his tongue. “Yes. No. I…” Restless fingers dug into his hair and tugged. “I thought of this.”

  Jonah bared his teeth, pressing and humming against her core, knowing it would vibrate through her. He couldn’t prevent a smile when she began writhing before him, hips circling, her sexy little body already desperate for relief. On my terms, Caroline. “You came in your desk chair, underneath that cock-teasing skirt, didn’t you? Did you rub that silky garter over your clit and imagine it was my tongue, baby?” He placed just the right amount of suction over the bundle of nerves in question and took a long pull. “If you’d asked me nicely, I would have stripped you from the waist down and tongue-fucked you on that desk, right underneath your college degree. Would you have liked the reminder that I don’t give a fuck what your last name is?”

  “Yes,” she cried as he went to work on her clit again, circling, rubbing, and sucking. He watched her, memorizing the way her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, growing painfully aroused by the sight of her nipples pouting and growing rosier by the second. Those gorgeous thighs trembled, even as they clenched around his head, telling him she was close. When her breathy whimpers grew louder, Jonah added a second finger, crooking and rotating it inside her one minute, thrusting it in and out the next. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Jonah, please.”

  “Caroline.” He paused to warn her, voice harder than before.

  “Master, please.”

  Blasted by satisfaction, Jonah drew hard on her clit one final time, rolling it on his tongue. She shook on the dresser, rattling the mirror against the wall. Knowing he’d fuck her soon, he added a third finger just as she came, but he didn’t cease his ministrations. Caroline’s climax still quaking through her, Jonah pumped his fingers deep and licked her until she came twice more. By the time her third orgasm subsided, her lips were raw from being bitten. Voice hoarse from begging for more, more. He wanted to hear her say the words. Needed to see those fantasy lips say things they never imagined saying.

  After tightening the blindfold, Jonah dragged her off the well-used furniture and propelled her toward the bed.

  “Tell me what more means, Caroline.”

  “You,” she sobbed. “I want you.”

  Jonah pulled her back to his chest and thrust his erection up against her ass. “You want to take care of this for your master?”

  “Yes.” She circled her hips against him so enticingly and with such desperation, he almost gave in and entered her. “Please let me.”

  “How are you going to make me come, baby?”

  Her frustrated whimper earned her a slap of his hand. “With my body. My…pussy.”

  “Good girl.” Jonah gritted his teeth but couldn’t hold back his rumble of satisfaction. “Now tell me again what you want.”

  “Your… Oh, God, your cock.” Her body started to tremble. “Please.”

  With a firm hand on her back, he pushed her forward so she stood bent over the bed, then rolled on the condom he’d pulled from his pocket. Power flowing through his veins, he picked up the paddle. “Get your ass in the air, Caroline. I’m about to give you exactly what the fuck you need.”

  She liked the position. He could tell by the way she tilted her hips, tossed her hair back with a flick of her head. When she turned her head toward him and said, “Yes, Master,” it nearly undid him. He wanted to grab her hips and fuck her senseless, but the paddle felt too damn good in his hand. Forcing himself to land a soft blow first, he felt his good intentions melt away with each slap of leather on flesh, leaving pink marks that would still be there tomorrow to remind her of him. Of who’d owned her tonight.

  Taking a chance, he slapped her harder than before, clenching his fists when she only tried to get closer. “Careful, baby. You’re giving yourself away. You love it, don’t you? That sharp bite echoing between your gorgeous, shaking thighs? Who’s the one providing the bite, Caroline?”

  “You are, Master.”

  “That’s right.” He dropped the paddle on the bed and slipped two fingers inside her, holding them tight and deep. “Thank me for your punishment.”

  “Thank you.” Caroline’s words ended on a scream when he withdrew his fingers and buried his rigid cock to the hilt. Jonah’s vision blurred at the overwhelming pleasure her tight entrance afforded him. Fuck, it felt like she was trying to squeeze him out and suck him in at the same time. He’d never been so lost in the need to thrust, while being held back by the voice compelling him to cherish the singular feeling. When she spread her thighs wider and begged breathily, the former won.

  Jonah planted his fists on the bed and worked his hips, grinding into her slowly, before rearing back and slamming home once more. He repeated the movement several times, each time better than the last. When her back and shoulders began to tremble, Jonah realized he’d been holding back from taking her hard because he wanted to see her face as he did so. In one quick movement, he withdrew, flipped her over, and yanked off the blindfold.

  A moan broke free from him at her expression. Utter ecstasy blanketed her features, driving him into a frenzy. His ferocious thrust propelled her up the bed, her thighs circling his waist and holding tight. Jonah manacled her wrists above her head with one hand and threw his head back to avoid the picture she made beneath him, afraid it would make him come too soon. No one can have her but me. No one can have her but me. The chant repeated itself over and over in his mind as he gave in to the vicious urge and fucked her without an ounce of restraint.

  “Jonah.” Her head tossed on the bed, face flushed, breasts bouncing in time with his drives. “Master.”

  “Goddammit, Caroline. If I’d known, if I’d even had a fucking hunch you’d feel like this, I’d never have been able to wait. You’d have been introduced to my cock that first night.” Jonah grabbed one of her ankles and threw it over his shoulder, changing the angle as he continued to pound into her. “Come hard, baby. Show me how much you love it.”

  “I love it. I love it.” He felt her inner walls clench around him, and it drained the last drop of his sanity. Her entire body was wracked with tremors then, eyes disappearing into her head. “I’m coming again… Please…don’t stop.”

  Jonah brought his body down hard on top of her, pinning her with his weight and thrusting deep to help her ride out her orgasm. “Who owns you? Who owns this body?”

  “You do. Oh, God.”

  He finally allowed himself to climax, unable to hold back another second when her pussy began milking him rhythmically in a way he knew would cause him to harden every time he remembered it for years to come. A rush of something transcending pleasure gripped him, taking over his body. “Goddamn, that hot little pussy is working me so fucking good. Don’t stop. Jesus, baby, fuck.”

  Unable to hold himself up any longer, he fell on top of Caroline, their mouths fitting together between gasps of breath. He withdrew from her gently but made no move to leave his position over her. It felt right. He wanted to stay there as long as po
ssible, watching her recover from what they’d done. When her stunned gaze slipped from his, he felt a sense of dread creep into his chest. They hadn’t even fully caught their breath, and she’d already retreated back into her own headspace. He’d seen this eventuality coming, but his foresight didn’t make it any easier to witness. She’d given him temporary ownership of her body, but her mind had clearly remained her own.

  “Look at me,” he commanded. Then softer, “Stay with me, Caroline.”

  Hesitantly, her green eyes, brimming with conflict, met his. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”

  “I know you won’t.”

  She shook her head miserably. “Same thing.”

  “No. It’s not.” Swallowing the knot in his throat, he swept his lips over hers. “It’s okay to love what we did here.”

  “No,” she choked out. “That wasn’t me. I don’t…want to question myself. That only ever happens around you.”

  When she rolled out from under him, Jonah had to clench his fist on the comforter to prevent himself from reaching for her. “You don’t think I question myself, too? Wanting a girl who thinks I’m sleazy or that I have some incurable sickness?” He sighed when she left the room, no doubt to retrieve her dress where she’d left it in the guest room. Against his better judgment, he rose and followed her, calling himself a masochist the entire way. Ironic, that. He found her zipping up the dress, stepping into her heels. “Sweetheart—”

  “Oh, God, please stop calling me that.” He swallowed hard but remained silent. “I know what you’re thinking. That I don’t know my own mind. That I say one thing and do another. You’re right. About all of it. That’s why I’m leaving. That’s why I won’t come back.”

  “Explain.”

  She heaved a breath toward the ceiling in a mannerism he’d already come to associate with her. “Where does this end? With me getting flogged in front of an audience?”

  “Never.”

  His vehemence appeared to take her aback for a moment. “It’s a slippery slope, that’s all I’m trying to say.”

  He shook his head. “You’re above clichés, Caroline. We’re above them.”

  “Jonah…” He saw her consider being honest with him for a moment. Just a flash and it was gone, but it was enough to tell him something more complex lingered behind her panicked explanation as she searched for an excuse to fill the void her honesty had left behind. “I can’t be associated with you. It would be bad for my career. Bad for me personally.” She raised her hand and let it drop. “You brought me here tonight to enlighten me, but one night doesn’t make it something I could consider permanently. Or condone publicly.”

  He ignored the second part, knowing she’d said it to push him further away. All he knew was she would leave in a minute, and it felt so infinitely wrong, he couldn’t get his head around it. “We weren’t meant to be limited to one night.” His gaze held hers. “Admit that much. Admit that what’s between us isn’t about some fucking article.”

  Her lips parted on a shaky exhale, and Jonah felt arousal flood his belly. A wave of self-disgust followed. For wanting her, even as she stood there explaining why he wasn’t good enough. “If I admitted it, it still wouldn’t change anything. I can’t continue to do these things with you and still respect myself.” Before he could respond to that hurtful statement, she picked up her purse from the floor and swept past him, giving him a wide berth.

  “Stop.” His command brought her up short in the doorway. “I’m walking you out.”

  “That’s completely unnecessary.”

  Jonah closed the distance between them, tilting her chin up and getting right in her face. Awareness shone hotly in her eyes, and he wanted to curse it. It proved he could have her again, but it would only prolong the inevitable. “If you think I’m going to let you walk through my club looking like you’ve been ridden hard and put up wet, you’re about to be terribly disappointed.”

  Indignant color rose in her cheeks, but wisely she didn’t argue. “Fine,” she snapped. “Since you put it so nicely.”

  They rode the elevator in silence, although her nipples straining against her dress and the rapid rise and fall of her chest told Jonah she still desired him. It was the worst kind of torture imaginable when the temptation to fuck her until she relented sang loudly in his head. He waved forward one of the black town cars idling outside Serve and waited until it disappeared from sight, wishing like hell she hadn’t turned around to watch him as it drove away.

  Chapter Ten

  The article she’d written about Serve was live.

  Caroline stared at her computer screen, watching the Preston’s website log hit after hit. Hundreds of comments turned into thousands as she sat there, people reading her feature from the comfort of their own desks, probably horrified as they read about Serve.

  While she sat there feeling hollow.

  Last night, she’d come home knowing if she didn’t write the article and publish it on the website the same night, she never would. Every word of the article was true, she’d managed that much. Kept her journalistic integrity intact at the very least. The way she’d managed it? She hadn’t mentioned Jonah. Not once. If she had, the article would have been entirely different. Her distaste wouldn’t have shown through and it would have been softer. Less objective. Essentially, she’d written what she’d observed inside the club’s four walls in an uncharacteristically toneless piece that would likely hurt Jonah. If not his feelings, his image. An image that mattered when you were trying to get visitation with your daughter.

  Caroline’s stomach turned at the reminder. She’d done what was necessary, though. Hadn’t she? Her father, the man who had built this magazine from the ground up, had demanded a negative article so Oliver would drop the merger idea. Oliver hadn’t demanded a positive spin the way her father had demanded a negative one, but the request had been made all the same. She hadn’t given in to either of them, really, since the article had no angle. None of her opinion, either, even though it was an op-ed. Why did that make it even worse?

  Caroline’s throat constricted as she looked at the box of red lollipops that had been delivered to the building’s reception last night. Before the article had gone live. How in the hell could a box of candy make her feel so miserable? Oh, but it did. He’d sent them to the woman he’d shared his bed with, if for a brief time. Not the woman who’d made Serve sound like a generic torture chamber. Secretly, she was turned on by the gift, too. Excitement should not accompany her guilt. She shouldn’t want to suck on one of them while she thought about him. Shouldn’t want to tuck one into the garter still circling her thigh and wear it as a secret all day long.

  Were the lollipops a sign that he hadn’t wanted to give up on her? Traitorous heat traveled up from her belly to curl in her chest. Oh, that wouldn’t do. It was one thing to feel tingly for Jonah in her nether regions, but quite another for it to move higher. Wholly unacceptable. It didn’t matter now, anyway. Now that he would never want to see her again.

  With a long exhale, she reached into the box of lollipops and pulled one out. When her knuckles encountered something stiff and crinkly, she set the box in her lap and dug through it. It only took her a second to find the note. Don’t open it. Don’t.

  Oh, fuck it. She was a journalist. She could no more leave the note folded and unread than she could go a day without asking intrusive questions. Before she could stop herself, she brought the note to her mouth and rubbed the smooth paper over her lips, lips Jonah had kissed just hours ago. Bruised lips that shouldn’t like the feeling at all. Lips that should feel violated and abused but instead felt wanted and worthy of passion from a man who kept it chained inside him until it exploded out in a frenzy of demands she’d been all too eager to comply with. No more. Can’t do it anymore.

  She unfolded the note with impatient fingers.

  Our night is still incomplete. You don’t know what it does to me knowing your beautifully sore backside received no aftercare from my hands. That I
wasn’t given the time to tell you that you look like a fucking goddess when you come. To say that you satisfied me would be an understatement, so I need to overstate it in your ear. Not on paper. Allow me that. Today.

  J

  A cell phone number sat at the bottom, taunting her.

  The sound of her breath wheezing in and out brought her out of her stupor. How many times had she read the note? Using different inflections each time, imagining his voice saying the words to her out loud. She tossed the note into the garbage can, then snatched it back out. The night was still incomplete? What had he been planning while she’d been sitting at her laptop, wrecking his life? He’d been remembering their night together, thinking of her as a goddess, when she’d gone and acted like the furthest thing from it. If she saw him today, he wouldn’t care if her body still ached from his hands. Would he? Maybe instead, he’d repeat the treatment he’d given her last night, only this time it wouldn’t be for pleasure. It would be a punishment.

  Her body shouldn’t be thrumming with anticipation of receiving that punishment. Wrong. So wrong. But whereas five minutes ago, she’d been moody and lethargic, she now felt energized. Reanimated. Maybe he genuinely wanted to care for her after last night. Maybe it really was important to him. It wouldn’t hurt to find out, right? “Stop,” she muttered to herself, pushing from behind her desk and out of her office. “Stop making excuses to see him.”

  Caroline went into the small kitchen just off the reception area and poured herself a mug of steaming caffeine. She doctored it with too much cream before leaning back against the counter to watch the twenty-four-hour news channel on the suspended television above. The images blurred together after a few minutes, the voices sounding like they came from inside a cave. She’d expected the article to bring relief. Thought it would free her somehow, let her life return to normal. But she felt infinitely worse. Like she’d done something irreversible. Her father might be pleased with her, since their readership would undoubtedly be disgusted by her description of floggings and horny businessmen, but had it been worth hurting Jonah? Her brother? Knowing she was a fraud left a bitter taste in her mouth, and the coffee was doing nothing to wash it away. Or to dull the relentless pain in her chest.