Owned By Fate

by Tessa Bailey

  She had the sudden, undeniable urge to hear Jonah’s voice. Not to apologize—that would come too close to admitting she was wrong about his world, and she wasn’t. But she needed him to know her intention hadn’t been to hurt him. Maybe it would help dampen this awful guilt spearing her abdomen.

  She hurried back to her office and closed the door so no one would overhear, particularly her father, who tended to meander through the hallways with his nose stuck in a book or financial journal. With a deep breath, she plucked the note off her desk and dialed the number on her cell.

  Jonah answered on the third ring, sounding weary. “Yes?”

  “It’s me.”

  A long pause. “I didn’t expect you to actually call.”

  “That would have been impolite after you sent me a gift. But maybe I shouldn’t have.”

  “There are a lot of things you shouldn’t have done according to this article, Caroline.”

  She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not when that now-familiar edge in his voice made her body hum to life.

  “I wonder what all these readers would think if they knew you couldn’t even make it upstairs in the elevator without trying to get a leg around my waist to feel my cock just where you wanted it.”

  Her eyelids fluttered at the forbidden words and the hypnotic quality he spoke with. She felt weak-kneed and eager, the same way she’d felt in his bedroom the night before. How could he do this to her in mere seconds?

  Against her will, she looked down at the note. She never left anything incomplete, and the very suggestion that they had was throwing her off. Just one more time. To see him. To make sure he knew her actions hadn’t been malicious. But how could she do that without admitting she felt something for him? “You’d like to expose me, wouldn’t you? Maybe you will if I don’t agree to meet you.”

  “I won’t give you a way to justify it to yourself.” His voice was hard. “You’ll come to me regardless.”

  She shuddered at the implication that she’d willingly go to him for punishment. “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because I’m your master and I’ve made a demand.”

  Hot, decadent pleasure blocked out everything else. He’s still my master. Was that relief she felt, too? She’d never felt it to such a degree about anything. “Where? How?”

  “I’ll pick you up one block south of your building in fifteen minutes.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, feeling like she was soaring toward an unseen disaster.

  …

  He’d been granted a reprieve. Part of him felt as if he’d imagined the phone call, Caroline’s halting voice on the other end. Christ, the simple act of talking to her had given him an unforgiving hard-on. The kind that demanded fulfillment, mere hours after he’d been fulfilled beyond words. This was about her, though. Not him. She’d walked out of his club last night, her body visibly stiff from how he’d treated it, translating into a frantic shipment of lollipops and a night of zero sleep for him. He’d been tempted to show up at Preston’s this morning and tend to her behind the closed door of her office. Would have done it if her parting words from last night weren’t still ringing in his ears.

  I can’t continue to do these things with you and still respect myself.

  And then he’d seen the damned article.

  Fuck, he shouldn’t be here. He should leave this sexy, disapproving woman who refused to quit haunting him alone. Should stop sneaking around with someone who didn’t want to want him and quit being the catalyst for her loss of self-respect. After the way she’d portrayed his club in her article, like it was some cheap Vegas sideshow, he shouldn’t ever want to hear her name again. Already this morning, his lawyer had received a phone call from Renee. He’d chosen to put off the conversation with Gabby’s mother because he couldn’t think straight yet. Couldn’t stay away. His plan had been to addict her, but he’d become a full-fledged Caroline junkie in the process. Article or not, as far as he was concerned, she was his responsibility, and he would see to her.

  As if that final thought had made her appear, he saw Caroline round the busy corner, scanning the street. For him. Jesus, he liked that. Liked her seeking him out.

  You’re one sick man.

  From the back of the limousine, Jonah lowered the window and waited for her gaze to find him. When it did, one eyebrow lifted, but she closed the distance without hesitation and slipped into the leather backseat. Immediately, his instincts roared to life, demanding he pin her beneath him on the seat and devour her, punish her for betraying him, but he somehow kept himself in check. About her. This is about her.

  Too bad he planned to take something for himself in the process.

  One thing at a time.

  Her gaze ran over his face, those intelligent eyes attempting to analyze him. When she spoke, she sounded a little breathless. “I never pegged you for a limousine man.”

  “I borrowed it from a client.” He took off his hat and tossed it onto the far seat. “I prefer the subway.”

  “I thought so,” she murmured as the limo started moving. “I don’t know why I thought so.”

  Jonah stifled a groan. “Your tongue is red. Did you eat a lollipop, Caroline?”

  “Yes. While I was waiting.”

  She looked guilty, like she’d been caught doing something very bad. Damn, that made him ache below the belt even more. Despite his anger, how could he be this close to her and not try to seat himself inside of her? He knew now how good she felt, how well she took him, making holding back infinitely worse. “I would have liked to have seen that.”

  “Are we going to talk about the article or pretend it didn’t happen?”

  As always, her directness turned him on. “No, we’re not going to talk about it. That’s what you’d like to do, though, isn’t it?” His voice sounded tight to his own ears. “Talk about it until you feel better about lying?”

  “I didn’t lie in the article,” she said quickly.

  “No, just to yourself.” Jonah took a careful breath, aware that the situation was going somewhere he hadn’t planned and that he needed to dial it back. To remember why he’d come. “That’s not what this is about. I think I was very clear about what I wanted in my note.”

  Her red tongue skated out to wet her lips. “I don’t understand.”

  A pang in his chest was coupled with an overwhelming need to soothe. It had been there since last night, demanding to be obeyed. This wouldn’t be his usual process—he’d known that ahead of time. “Come sit on my lap.”

  She only looked unsure for a beat before tossing her purse onto the floor and kneeling on the seat beside him. Jonah hooked an arm around her waist and drew her down, settling her bottom on his thighs and leaning her against his chest. Already their breaths were punctuating the air around them, oxygen being sucked in and heaved out from the simple contact.

  Ordering himself to focus, Jonah slid his hand into her hair and began to massage the back of her head. Her mouth popped open on a gasp, eyes sliding closed. Jonah laid his mouth against her ear and spoke quietly. “Does your pussy hurt a little from satisfying me, Caroline?”

  She swayed in his lap with a moan, but he steadied her with his chest. “Yes.”

  Using the fingers of one hand to rub circles into her scalp, he allowed the other to trail up her thigh. Not too high. Not enough that he wouldn’t be able to stop. “Such a good girl, letting me lick as long as I wanted. You tasted perfect, baby. Smooth and sweet.”

  Her thigh flexed and shook underneath his hand. “Should I say thank you?”

  “Yes, but only if you say it the right way.”

  Frustration clouded her pretty features but fled after a moment. “Thank you, Master,” she whispered, as if someone might overhear. “For saying I taste good.”

  Goddamn, those words out of her mouth almost demolished his self-control, but he bit her earlobe gently instead. “I’d like you to get on your knees, facing away from me. Lay your cheek down on the carpet.” He ran his open mouth up
the side of her neck, loving the way her head tilted automatically. “Then I’d like you to pull up your skirt and show me where I gave you the paddle last night.”

  Her green eyes flew to his, full of uncertainty and unwanted excitement. His view from above allowed him to see down the front of her blouse to her breasts, where they swelled over the top of her bra, barely containing them. She loved this. She wanted it, whether or not she would confess it. “I can’t do that,” she breathed.

  In slow degrees, he let his fist tighten in her hair until she whimpered. “You will do as you’re told.”

  As if she’d only been waiting for the choice to be taken away, to absolve herself of any responsibility, she fell onto the floor in front of him. She cast him a sultry look over her shoulder before bending forward, placing her cheek on the floor and raising her ass in the air. The sight of those hands curling around the hem of her skirt and dragging the material up to her hips had him gripping the seat until his knuckles turned white. For the love of God, she was glorious all on her own, but with his marks on her, she was transcendent. Her delicate skin was pink, just enough to assure him he hadn’t been too rough.

  His body moved of its own accord. He fell to his knees behind her, smoothing a hand over what he’d done. The evidence of what she’d allowed. Remembering part of his purpose, he slipped the lotion from his pocket, squeezed some into his palm, and warmed it by rubbing his hands together. As he did so, his eyes were drawn to the black garter around her thigh. It was starting to feel like his own version of a collar, but he had a feeling he’d better keep that thought to himself. The strip of matching black silk shielding her flesh consumed his attention then. He watched the material drag over her pussy as he massaged the lotion into her sore bottom, her thighs trembling at his touch.

  “I don’t need you to tell me you liked it, Caroline. I can tell by how proudly you’re showing off your hot, tight, obviously unfucked ass to me.” He kissed her right cheek, dragged his tongue up to the small of her back. “But I want to hear you say it anyway. Tell me how you got wet every time you sat down this morning. Were you scared to move in case these damp thighs slid together and everyone heard?”

  “Yes.” She heaved a jagged breath and pushed her ass into his hands. “Feels so good… Don’t stop.”

  Her words, her reaction, confirmed that she needed this. Maybe even as much as he did. But Jesus, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to taste her skin, because his mouth wanted all of her now. No. Sore. She’d told him she was sore. The soothing circular motion he made with his hands was causing her thong to shift to the side, giving him a glimpse of the delicious, slick spot beneath. Christ.

  “You’re not too sore to have your pussy eaten. Are you, Caroline?”

  “N-no. No.” She tilted her hips higher with a moan. “I need you to. Please.”

  The words were still leaving her mouth as he jerked her panties to the side and ran his tongue from her entrance down to her clit. Her muffled scream and writhing hips told him she was still overly sensitive from last night. If he kept up this concentrated attack, it would be over too quickly, and he wanted to savor her for a while. He used the pad of his thumb to tease her with slow circles while he continued soothing the pink skin of her ass with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

  “God, I love it when you beg.” He went back down and gave her clit a hard lick. “When your bottom stops stinging, you’re going to beg me to rough it up again. Hearing those words will be almost as sweet as your pussy.”

  He couldn’t hold back any longer, had grown desperate to see her reach fulfillment. Never ceasing in his gentle stroking of her bottom, he flicked his tongue against her clit, burying his face between her legs so he could suck her into his mouth and draw deeply.

  “Master. Yes, yes… Oh, God.” He wrapped an arm around her hips at the last minute to keep her from collapsing as she shuddered violently. Her close-mouthed scream was the hottest fucking thing he’d ever heard, hot enough to make him want to give her another release, but she surprised him by abruptly sitting back on her heels. Before he could order her back into position, she turned around and…kissed him. It wasn’t tentative or reluctant, either. It wasn’t a kiss that said she knew this thing between them was wrong but couldn’t help her need for it. No, this was surrender. She clutched the sides of his face and opened her mouth for his tongue, daring him not to enter. As if he had a choice when she tasted so fucking sweet and was finally, finally letting herself go, right there in his arms.

  Jonah knew what would happen next, though. He’d throw her down onto her back and fuck her until she screamed loudly enough for the limousine driver to be seriously worried. And when it was all over, she’d tell him he was bad for her. She’d walk away. So he wouldn’t give her what she so clearly wanted, as painful and difficult as it would be. He knew all about pain, though, and he could play the long game if it meant seeing her again. In fact, he was starting to think he’d do just about anything for that. Furthermore, he’d come to see her only after vowing to himself that it would be for her only. He’d initiated her into his world last night, and it had been his responsibility to comfort her. Not leave her worse off than before.

  Her hands fumbled with the fly of his pants, stopping to squeeze his pulsing erection. Jonah groaned at the pressure he’d been craving, but going completely against his instincts, he stayed her wrists by grabbing them. “No, sweetheart.”

  “No?” She heaved the single word. “Please, I need to…I want to use my mouth—”

  “No.” Damn, he was a bastard. To punish her like this. The way her mind worked, she would go crazy knowing this encounter had been one-sided and left unfinished. Hell, it might kill him, too. But he couldn’t let her get away with the damage she’d done. Not without being disciplined. “Not this time.”

  “Jonah.” She said his name like a curse, shrewd eyes clearing of just enough lust to analyze him. “This is my punishment, isn’t it? You’re punishing me.”

  He stared at the ceiling, hating himself as she shoved her skirt back down and crammed her hand against her mouth. Outside, he saw Serve come into view and rolled down the partition separating them from the driver.

  “Please make sure to take Ms. Preston back to the same spot where we picked her up.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Don’t leave her. Hold on to her.

  The only thing that kept him from scooping her up in his arms was the sliver of a chance his actions might bring her back for one more night. Instead, he reached over and took her chin in his hand. “Whatever happens, however you push me away or slander me, I’ll be waiting for you to come to me. If that makes me sick, so be it.” He let go of her chin and gripped his hardness through his pants. “For now, though, look at your punishment, Caroline. You’ve displeased your master.”

  A quiet sob fell from her mouth, rending him in two. She pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them tightly. God, it almost killed him seeing her hurt, but there was another, darker part of him that needed her to be affected by him this way.

  “Good-bye, Caroline.”

  Shutting the door behind him and walking toward Serve, away from the glimpse of heaven she would give him if he let her, felt like a prison march.

  Chapter Eleven

  Caroline groaned at the ceiling of Oliver’s car as yet another slow, bass-heavy song began pumping through the expensive stereo of his Jaguar. Normally, her brother’s musical choices didn’t bother her, but today, everything he played reminded her of Serve. Of the brooding music played within its walls. Of Jonah.

  She glanced at Oliver, wondering if the dark tone of the music reflected her brother’s mood. It was Saturday, hence their prescheduled road trip to their father’s house on Long Island for brunch. Her brother hadn’t yet brought up the article, and she was dreading the moment he would. On top of everything that had transpired with Jonah, she didn’t think she could handle Oliver’s disappointment.

  Jonah. Just thinking his name mad
e her want to squirm. They hadn’t parted ways on the best of terms, to put it mildly, but dammit if her desire to see him again didn’t increase with each passing hour. Until he had soothed her with the lotion, her bottom had felt distinctly tender. She should’ve been pleased that the reminder of her transformation into a submissive had faded, but instead, she’d felt an odd sense of loss. As if something were missing. Frankly, it disconcerted the hell out of her. The only thing that had calmed her was the garter she slid up her thigh each morning.

  Look at your punishment, Caroline. You’ve displeased your master.

  Oliver briefly tore his gaze from the road. “You going to tell me what’s up?”

  “It’s nothing.” She played with the window controls. Was it possible to feel bereft of someone you’d known such a short amount of time? Or did this restless gloom come part and parcel with the knowledge that her world would never be rocked quite so handily ever again?

  “I’m just wondering how many of my brain cells this music will kill before we reach Long Island.”

  “Ah, come on. You’ve got a few to spare.”

  “Are you asking for a donation?”

  He sent her an affronted look, but his eyes were full of humor as he tossed the iPhone onto her lap. “All right, put on your bubble-gum pop music. I won’t tell anyone.”

  She scrolled through the selections on Oliver’s iPhone, fingers freezing when she landed on Radiohead. Memories bombarded her. Jonah kissing her furiously; his mouth, hot and possessive; his sure touch delving between her legs while bass pumped from some invisible source. That first night, he’d put one of their songs on repeat, but she had no idea which one. Why was she tempted to put the band on shuffle, hoping it came on? It would accomplish nothing, except possibly make her hot and bothered two feet from her brother.