Claire shivered, her gaze on his, unable to look away from the dark eyes peering at her from the mask.
“If you were mine,” he said softly, “I would punish you for disobeying me.”
Claire’s mouth dropped open. Punish her? She thought of Devil Girl’s spanking and couldn’t decide if the idea was ridiculous or a very dark, hot turn-on.
He stepped into her personal space, his boots toe-to-toe with hers. He tilted her chin, forcing her gaze upward. Her breath hitched at his intensity.
“Oh, yes, ma fleur. I would punish you for not listening. I would bend you over my knee and I would spank your sweet, firm ass. And you would take every hit quietly and obediently.” He leaned very close and whispered, “Wouldn’t you?”
For a moment, she felt the helplessness inspired by Phillip’s attempts to control her. He had never called what he did BDSM, but a whip by any other name was still a whip.
She couldn’t face the idea that she might enjoy what this man offered—that he wanted to give her something different, an experience meant for her pleasure. I don’t care what he says about my damned nature. I won’t let anyone hurt me again.
“I asked you a question, Belle.”
“Stop,” she said, her voice warbling. “Please.”
“As you wish.” Just like that, the spell he had woven with his words and his presence was broken. He stepped back. “A Master always listens to his submissive.”
“You mean you would just stop because I say so?” Claire swallowed the knot clogging her throat.
“Of course. If your former lover mistreated you, it was not because you deserved it.” He looked at her, and once again she got the impression he was smiling. “Belle, I would worship you. I would show you how to conquer your fears, how to open yourself to the wonder and beauty of your own soul.”
“By spanking me?”
He laughed. “That’s only part of it. But you are not mine, are you?”
She stared at him mutely, unable to agree with him … and yet, unable to accept his challenge, either.
“If you change your mind, meet me tonight in the lobby bar at nine p.m. I’ll be on the right side, third booth.”
“And if I don’t show up?”
“You will be the one who got away.” He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “No harm, no foul.”
“What should I wear?” The question popped out before Claire could fully form the thought.
He seemed pleased that she’d asked.
“You will wear a red dress and red high heels. You will not put on a bra, panties, or hose. Wear light make-up with red lipstick. Leave your hair down. No jewelry. Bring your ID, but no purse. You will not need money.”
“How can I trust you?”
“There is only one way for you to find out.” He took her hand and pressed his lips against it. “Au revoir, ma Belle.”
He turned and walked away.
Claire stared after him, absently massaging where he’d kissed her hand. One question echoed in her mind: Did she have the nerve to show up to their rendezvous?
“YOU THREW UP?”
Claire flinched at the suspicion in Lucius’s words. Liar, liar, pants on fire. She had waited until she got back to her hotel room before she called her boss. Pride goeth before a fall, all right. She couldn’t admit to Lucius that she’d been late because some guy had bought her as a sex slave. Since Lucius had given her an out earlier in the day, she grabbed the illness excuse and gave it to him, even though it made her feel guilty and heartsick.
“I’m really not feeling well. I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner.”
“That’s okay. I prefer not to hear the sounds of vomiting,” said Lucius. “How about dinner tonight? I’ll bring you soup and crackers. We have to do a few night shots while the weather is clear. I could come up about nine-ish.”
“Uh… well, y’know I’ll probably turn in early.” Claire clutched the phone and closed her eyes. Oh, God, she was so going to hell. She had never, ever told a fib to Lucius.
Somewhere between leaving Lady Pink’s auction and arriving at her hotel room, she had decided to meet her Master. She could hardly believe it, but here she was, already thinking of him as her Master.
The very idea of being dominated sent both panic and desire winding through her. Maybe he was what she needed to make a clean break from her feelings for Lucius. Was it wrong to want to be free of the man who could never love her? Was it more wrong to crave the pleasure promised by the man in the black mask?
“Order room service,” said Lucius. “I’ll check on you later.”
“No,” she practically yelled. Sheesh. Calm down, Claire. “I mean, that’s okay. I’m taking Nyquil. It’ll knock me out for the night. I bet I’m feeling right as rain tomorrow.”
“I hope so,” he said. “I only have you for two more days. I will miss you, Claire.”
“Your new assistant will be everything you need.”
“No, she won’t,” he said softly. “Because she won’t be you.”
Chapter 4
LUCIOUS ENDED THE call and tossed the cell phone to Mac. He took off the black leather mask and combed his fingers through his hair. In the dungeon, everyone was packing up gear, clothing, and props. The models had already left.
He had just finished telling Mac what had transpired at the auction when Claire called and lied her ass off about not feeling well. He smiled. She had never taken a sick day in the two years she’d worked for him. And she had never lied.
She must really want to be with her mystery man. Lucius frowned. It rankled that she would consider sex games with a complete stranger, but hadn’t shown an iota of sexual interest in him. In fact, she went out of her way to behave as if she didn’t find him at all attractive.
“You’re a cruel one,” said Mac without rancor. “Teasin’ our Claire that way.”
“I needed to find out if she was going to show up tonight. Y’know, I think I’m jealous of myself. Or rather, I’m jealous of the man Claire thinks I am.”
“Just tell her you want her more’n you wanted anyone ever, and drop this whole charade.” Mac shook his head. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, mate.”
“I know that,” said Lucius irritably. After buying Claire, he had planned to walk away. He’d been positive she had no interest in being a slave to anyone. She was an excellent assistant and accomplished every task given to her, but she wasn’t one to shut her mouth if she thought he was fucking up.
To his shock, she had been genuinely intrigued by a D/s relationship. And he sure as hell hadn’t counted on finding out that some asshole had already tried to dominate her—and had managed to hurt her deeply.
“If I told Claire how I feel, she would think that I just wanted to fuck her,” said Lucius. “She would not only say no, she would kick me in the balls and hit me in the face with her day planner.”
“That planner of hers would knock your teeth out,” said Mac. “Still, you might be better off goin’ the honest route. If’n she finds out you’re her new Master, there won’t be enough pieces left of you for a proper funeral.”
“Not enough for an open casket,” agreed Lucius. He looked at the hood he’d worn. It was hot and uncomfortable, but he had one in his room that he could use tonight.
Tonight. His dick was already hardening at the mere idea of Claire submitting to him. He could peel aside all those prickly layers and find her vulnerabilities. Given enough time, he could awaken her to new pleasures and help her conquer her fears. A night with Claire wouldn’t be enough—but it was all he had.
Mac was right. Lucius was playing a dangerous game with Claire. But if things turned out right, they’d both get what they wanted.
He was assuming that Claire actually wanted him. They could be so much more to each other if she would only reach out to him. Why don’t you trust me, Claire? Why don’t you trust anyone?
He meant to find out. Now that the game was started, he would finish it. Even if Claire wanted o
ut afterward, at least he would give her one gift. When he was done, she would know exactly what she wanted and how to get it.
In submitting to him, she would banish her demons and find pleasure in serving her Master.
THE HOTEL BAR was called Enchained. Claire had gone to three different stores to find the red dress and high heels. Luckily, the hotel had no shortage of clothing stores.
In her job, she wore muted colors: tans and creams, browns and blacks. She owned several “little black dresses,” but not a single item in her wardrobe was red.
As requested, she wore nothing under dress. Her legs were smooth and tan, thanks to an earlier spa treatment. Her hair was worn straight, without adornment, and she’d brushed it until it shone. She carried her driver’s license, and she wore very, very red lipstick.
At 8:59, she walked into the bar. It was crowded, filled with men and woman in various states of dress and undress. Most wore black leather and some carried riding crops and whips.
She turned right, pushed her way through the people and presented herself at the third booth.
Her Master sat on the left side, drinking a flute of champagne. He wore a black cloth mask that covered his head and most of his face. His shirt was red and his dress pants black. He looked very handsome, even though she could only see the tip of his nose, his full lips and his square jaw.
He put down his glass, looked at his watch, then up at her. “You’re right on time, Belle.” He studied her leisurely. “You look exquisite—like a beautiful present. I look forward to unwrapping you.”
Claire found it incredibly arousing that she had pleased him. Fear and longing entwined in a dance that made her stomach flutter. She feared what he might demand of her, but she also longed for the kind of pleasure he could bestow on her. She only prayed that she’d made the right choice. Phillip told her once that he’d sensed her submissive nature. He had promised to break down her barriers, but all he really did was break her.
“Sit down.”
Until he uttered the words, Claire hadn’t realized that she’d been instinctively waiting for his directive. She looked at him, uncertain.
“Belle.” His tone was sharp.
“I don’t mean to disobey,” she said softly, “but where should I sit?”
His lips curved into a gentle smile. “I’m sorry, Belle. I was not specific, was I? You require clarity.” He scooted out of the booth and gestured for her to join him.
She slid across the vinyl seat until her hip grazed the wall. She toyed with her driver’s license as he sat next to her.
“Give me your ID.”
She handed it over and he tucked it into his front pants pocket. He sipped on his champagne, offering her none as he looked around the bar. Claire was unsure if she was allowed to talk or to move.
“Sit close to me,” he said. “Flip your dress up.”
Claire’s heart pounded furiously as she moved nearer to him. Her hands shook violently as they gripped the edge of her dress. This is crazy. I can’t just… oh, God. What am I doing?
“Are you thinking that you made a mistake?”
Claire looked up into the knowing gaze of her Master. She nodded.
“You can leave right now,” he said. “Or you can lift your dress and show me your pussy.”
His words shocked her. But her body reacted in a far different manner. Her nipples hardened and she got instantly wet. She hated to admit it, but she was enjoying his domination.
Sucking in a deep breath, she pulled up the material and revealed her Brazilian-waxed cunt. He glanced down then nodded. She started to re-cover herself, but he said, “No. Leave it.”
Even though she felt extremely vulnerable with her dress shoved up to her hips, she was determined to see through this experience. The table was so big and the lighting so dim, it was doubtful that anyone walking by could see her bared thighs.
“Put your hands flat on the table.”
Claire put her palms against the burnished wood.
Minutes ticked by. He said nothing to her. He sipped the champagne and watched the people around them, some involved in their own games. And while he observed others, she observed him. The bar was dimly lit, but she could still see his handsome profile. She hoped that before their game was over, he would reveal his identity.
Finally, he turned to her. “You’re doing very well.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you, Master,” he corrected. “When you speak to me, you must call me Master. Understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
“What a good girl you are, Belle.”
Pleasure curled through her. Claire found it almost unbelievable that his praise meant so much to her. Yes, there was satisfaction in doing well, but there was also sexual titillation. Her body thrummed with growing need. Her nipples poked against the soft material of her dress and her pussy clenched.
And he hadn’t even touched her.
“Would you like some champagne, Belle?”
Claire nodded. He lifted the flute to her lips and she sipped the bubbly, sweet liquid. “Thank you, Master.”
“You’re welcome.”
He finished off the drink. Then he said, “Spread your legs.”
Her pulse stuttered, but she did as he asked. She nearly swallowed her tongue when he reached between her thighs and stroked one finger up one side of her labia and down the other.
“You’re wet,” he said. His voice went low and hot. “I bet you taste good.”
Why don’t you find out? But she didn’t dare utter those words. In this world, she belonged to him. She was not the aggressor. She needed only to relax and he would care for her.
His finger delved between her folds, teasing the sensitive flesh. Her palms tingled as she kept them pressed against the table; her hands started to sweat. Even so, she didn’t move them lest her disobedience cause her Master to stop touching her.
She wanted to squirm and to moan and to beg, but she said nothing and kept her ass planted against the vinyl. He didn’t look at her, but she knew she had his attention. God knew that he had hers.
Moisture beaded her forehead and she bit her lower lip as a moan threatened to escape from her throat.
“You will not come,” he said as his finger diddled her clit. “Not until I tell you.”
She wanted to protest the very idea of being brought to orgasm in the middle of a crowded bar, but she couldn’t get words to form.
Excitement built in her pussy as he stroked her faster and faster. She sucked in a breath and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Open your eyes,” he said. “Look at me.”
She turned dazed eyes to him.
“You are so beautiful,” he said. “I can’t wait to see you come.”
Her breath quickened and her heart pounded furiously. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter. She could let go at any second.
“Put your arms around me.”
Claire gladly lifted her palms off the table and wrapped her arms around her Master. Doing so shifted her position slightly, but it didn’t affect her Master’s expert pleasuring of her clit.
He moved closer as if accepting her hug. She was startled when he leaned down and lightly bit her left nipple through her dress. Whoa! Pleasure-pain zapped straight to her cunt.
He nuzzled his way up her neck. “Look at me.”
She drew back far enough so she could lock eyes with him. Her entire body thrummed with need. Oh, God. She teetered on the edge. She wanted to beg for release, but even more, she wanted his permission.
Oh, hell. It was true. She craved his dominion. She wanted to submit to him. It felt right. And oh-so-good.
“Belle,” he whispered, keeping his gaze on hers, “I want you to come.”
He leaned down and bit her nipple again. The intensity of that action pushed her over.
Endless waves of bliss crashed through her. Her arms tightened around his shoulders as she swallowed her cries of completion. Her whole body shuddered as he cupped h
er mound; her pussy convulsed and wept against his hand.
He gave her a few moments to recover, but he had made her shatter in more ways than one. She felt swallowed up by the emotions rioting through her still trembling body. She felt so vulnerable right now, and more than a little worried about her ease with this stranger.
“Come here,” he said as he pulled her onto his lap. He kissed her—a sweet, brief press against her lips. “How do you feel?”
“Incredible.” Orgasmic tremors still rocked her pussy. “Thank you, Master.”
He smiled. “Ma fleur, we have only begun our journey together.” He pushed her hair behind her ears. “Are you ready for the next part?”
“Yes, Master.”
With her still clutched in his grasp, he scooted off the bench. As he stood up, he scooped her into his arms and carried her out of the bar.
Chapter 5
HER MASTER CARRIED her through the lobby. Claire felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment as they gained the attention of guests and staff. They’ve probably seen everything. She looked at him, feeling unaccountably shy.
He was smiling. “You look so lovely when you blush.”
“I’ve never been literally swept off my feet.”
“It is my honor to carry you.”
His courtly words charmed her and she returned his smile.
He walked past the bank of elevators which took guests to the upper floors. As he headed toward the main hallway, her eyes widened. For a panicked moment, she thought he might take her to a public dungeon. Not only was she not ready to show others these new truths she was discovering about herself, she was afraid she might run into someone from Bad Boy.
Instead, he rounded a corner and walked down a short hallway. Within minutes they arrived at a single elevator. A guard stood on duty, his brawny arms crossed as he watched their approach.
No words were exchanged. The guard nodded to her Master and pushed the button. The shining gold doors parted and he carried her inside.
Dipping her toward the panel, he said, “Push the red button.”
“I hope nothing explodes,” she murmured as she punched the unnumbered circle.
Frisky Business Page 3
