by Ivy Nelson
“I’ve always thought that girl was smart,” he said, kissing her forehead. “We’re going to get through this.”
“I want to believe you. It’s just hard. It all seems very overwhelming and hopeless.”
“Well let’s get to work then, Angel,” he said releasing her.
• • •
Adara paced outside the office where she was about to be interviewed—more like interrogated—by Homeland Security. This was nerve racking. Her attorney sat on a bench organizing files in her briefcase. Michael stood against one wall watching her. He made no move to calm her down because they didn’t want anyone to catch on that they were sexually involved; which Adara still thought was a bad idea. He had done his best to soothe her before they came to the interview with lots of gentle touches and kisses, but it wasn’t enough to calm the storm raging inside of her. It felt likely that she was about to be kicked out of the only country she had ever known. They were going to make all kinds of assumptions about her life because she’d had the misfortune of being born to a terrorist. But surely they would see her love for this country. Her patriotism. Her dog was named Hamilton for fuck’s sake. Terrorists don’t name their dogs Hamilton.
“Miss Kent, will you come with us please?”
Stephen Miller—the agent she had grown to loath—stepped out of the conference room.
“You and your attorney can come this way.” Turning to Michael, he said, “Thank you Detective Silas, for bringing her in. You’re free to go.”
“Actually, I was hoping to sit in on the interview. You know, get a feel for how Homeland does things. You never know, Metro PD might be able to learn a thing or two.”
The agent eyed him suspiciously for a moment, but the ego stroke Michael had just given him won out.
“Fine by me. Just keep your mouth shut. This is my interview.”
Michael held both hands up, palms out. “Of course. I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”
Adara didn’t exactly believe him but she was glad he would be in the room.
“Miss Kent, we seem to have a problem. The results of your DNA test came back. It would seem that you are not the daughter of Ruth and Daniel Kent as you claimed. Those results came back negative. Of course, I suppose you could have been adopted, but so far we can’t find adoption papers.”
Adara did her best to feign shock.
“I don’t understand. There must be something wrong with the DNA test.”
“I’m afraid not, Miss Kent. We have an even bigger problem though.”
“Get to the point, Mr. Miller,” Tabitha said from her place beside Adara.
“It’s Special Agent Miller, and I’m getting there. It would seem that you are the daughter of one, Faisal Hadawi. You recognize that name I’m sure.”
This time Adara didn’t have to feign shock. “This cannot be happening to me.”
“I’m afraid it is. We need to know if you knew about your lineage.”
“No, of course I didn’t. I’m not even sure this is real.”
The agent shook his head as if he felt sorry for her. “You did say you were born in Israel, correct?”
Adara nodded.
“I’m sorry, Miss Kent. Could you answer audibly for the recorder please?”
She sucked in a deep breath, willing her brain to form the words. “Yes, that’s correct.”
“So, could it be possible that your father sent you to America with two Israeli Americans to raise you here in the states?”
“Do you know how absurd that sounds?” Tabitha Kelly asked.
Stephen Miller shrugged. “Absurd doesn’t mean impossible, Ms. Kelly.”
“You don’t have to take part in his wild speculations, Adara.”
“Miss Kent has an obligation to help us clear this matter up or face deportation.”
Adara gasped as reality hit her. For the first time, the gravity of this situation was crashing down on her all at once. They were really considering kicking her out of the United States. Somehow, she found the words to speak. “Are you serious? I’ve lived here my whole life. I pay taxes. I have a job. I have a dog named Hamilton. My parents raised me in Arizona. I have cousins still living there. Aside from a speeding ticket or two, I’ve never broken the law. Why would you deport me?”
“Because, Miss Kent, if your parents are not legally Ruth and Daniel Kent, then you are not legally an American citizen. That means you cannot stay in this country. You’re here illegally.”
“That is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Insane or not, Miss Kent, the law is the law. So, unless you have evidence that you are eligible for citizenship, we will deport you.”
Adara was numb for the rest of the interview. She let her attorney guide her through most of the answers. Why was this happening to her now? It must have been the hundredth time she had asked herself that question.
To her relief, Tabitha managed to get an emergency court order to allow them to have their own third-party DNA test run before any threats of deportation were carried out. It would buy them a little time at least.
By the time they left the building, Adara was shaking. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do next. Michael directed their cab back to the hotel.
As soon as the door to their suite closed, he wrapped her in his arms, rubbing his hand up and down her back. They stayed that way until she stopped shaking.
“Talk to me, Angel.”
“I don’t even know where to start. I’m terrified. I can’t think straight. How do I get out of this?”
“I don’t know yet, Angel. I just know we’re going to.”
“I’m freaking out inside. I don’t know how to calm down. I don’t know how to escape this. I feel like I’m on the verge of a panic attack that I won’t be able to come out of. This isn’t me. I’m calm. I’m put together. I don’t have panic attacks.” She was talking a mile a minute, barely taking a breath between sentences.
“Do you trust me?”
“What?” Her voice raised an octave, confusion evident on her face.
“I said, do you trust me?”
“Of course, I trust you. What kind of question is that?”
Michael sighed and took a step back. “The kind that’s going to earn you a red ass if you don’t start answering me properly.”
“Are you fucking serious right now?”
“Angel.” There was warning in his low tone. Why was he pushing this? Here she was on the verge of being deported and he wanted to play kinky sex games?
“Complete submission for one week. That was the deal. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. I’ll ask you again. Do. You. Trust me?”
A scowl settled on her face. She was not in the mood for this game. “I trust you.”
“Try again.”
“I’m not in the mood for your games, Michael.”
Anger flashed in his eyes—at least it looked like anger—and he yanked her to him.
“You must have really enjoyed that spanking more than I thought because you’re this close to earning another one. No,” he said when she opened her mouth to protest. “You’ll listen. I know you’re scared. I’m fucking terrified. But we’re not just going to sit here and be scared. We’re going to fight this. And while we’re fighting this, we’re going to live our lives and have some fun along the way. I can center you, Angel. You know that. I can help you shove the fear aside for a little while, but I need your cooperation. Part of submission is doing it even when you aren’t in the mood. It’s trusting that I’m not going to push you past your breaking point. It’s trusting that I have what’s best for us in mind. I’m not thinking with my dick here, Adara. And it’s not just some silly sex game. It’s a dynamic that I know can be beautiful and I want it with you even if it’s just for a week because I won a bet. But if you want to back out of our deal, just say so. There will be no more pressure from me.”
The emotion pouring off of him was palpable and Adara closed her eyes. He was right. She had
agreed to this and she knew he could soothe her and bring her some sense of calm. He wasn’t lying about having their best interests in mind. Now she was feeling shy and embarrassed and worried that she had disappointed him. She bowed her head, her hair brushing his chest as she did. Try, she told herself. Give it your best shot and trust him.
“I’m sorry. I trust you, Sir. I’m just going out of my mind with all of this.”
“I know, Angel.” He stroked her hair and tilted her chin upwards, so she met his gaze. “Kneel.”
“What?”
He sighed and shook his head disapprovingly. “Last warning, Angel. Don’t think. Just listen. Now kneel.”
Deep breaths. Why was she having such a hard time today? Decision made, she blew out a breath and lowered herself to the carpeted floor and bowed her head. Her heart racing as she did.
“Much better. Wasn’t that so much easier than arguing with me?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He caressed her head one more time. “Stay there. I’ll be back.”
Then he was gone. Presumably to get some… equipment. Or perhaps to give her time to reflect as he had when he ordered her to stand in the corner last night. Was that really just last night? It felt like a lifetime ago after the morning she’d had. But memories came flooding back and warmth filled her as she thought of how enjoyable the night had been. What did he have planned now? Was he going to spank her again? Would he finally make love to her? It felt like it had been weeks since he had been inside of her and she was ready to feel him again.
“Good girl,” he murmured when he came back into the room. “I’m going to blindfold you now. Don’t be alarmed. It’s meant to help you block everything out for a little bit and focus completely on me and the sensations I’m giving you. Is that OK?”
She nodded, but quickly said, “Yes, Sir,” when he frowned.
“Better.” From behind his back, he produced a long, wide piece of cloth that had been doubled over. Not exactly the kind of blindfold she was expecting. He stepped behind her, getting close enough that she could feel the brush of his jeans against her shoulders. Then he crouched down and peppered kisses along her neck. She sighed, enjoying the feel of his lips gently caressing her skin. His teeth nipped her ear before he held the blindfold in front of her face.
“Ready?”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered. As soon as the words left her lips, her world went dark. With deft fingers he secured the blindfold with a knot at the back of her head. Air rushed across her face confusing her at first. Then she realized he was waving his hands in front of her face, making sure she couldn’t see anything. Every one of her other senses became heightened. The sound of Michaels clothes rustling as he moved about the room seemed unusually loud and she could feel the cool breeze of the air conditioner dance across her skin.
A moment later, he was by her side again. This time he helped her stand. And then he began to undress her. Slowly. Peeling her shirt upward over the secure blindfold. Instinctively, she raised her arms to make it easier for him. The garment fell to the floor with a soft swoosh. Next, she felt his fingers at her waist unhooking the button there and lowering the zipper. The normally quiet sound of the metal teeth separating was nearly deafening as he lowered it with painstakingly slow movements. Then, in one swift motion he lowered her pants and panties. He dropped to one knee and urged her to lift each foot so he could free her of the clothing. Her bra was all that was left. Her breath hitched when instead of standing, he kissed her calf. Then again. Higher and higher. He left a trail of scorching kisses as he made his way up her leg until he reached her inner thigh. She tensed as he planted another kiss on her upper thigh.
“Relax,” he whispered. Even in a whisper, he sounded dominant and in control. With a few deep breaths, she did her best to steady her racing heart and relax her tensed up muscles. But then, he planted a kiss there. Just above her clit. She gasped, and he chuckled against her sensitive skin. The vibration of his deep laugh and the gentle scratch of his stubble against her sent shivers through her. He continued his kissing trail up her body. Slowly. So. Painfully. Slowly. Soon, he was standing in front of her again, and he captured her lips in a heated kiss as his hands slid under her arms and around to the clasp of her bra. With a quick flick of his fingers, he popped it open and broke the kiss long enough to pull it off of her.
“Beautiful,” he said. “I could look at you for hours.”
Heat spread across her face and down her chest as she imagined his intense gaze exploring her now naked body. It was off-putting not being able to look at him. His big hand grasped hers and tugged. “Come with me.” Slowly, he led her through the room until she could tell they were standing near the bed. He turned her so she was backed up to the end of it. “Lay back on the bed, Angel.”
With slow movements she lowered herself onto the mattress and laid down flat on her back. The blindfold made her more aware of her nudity and she felt exposed and vulnerable. She had to fight the urge to cover her breasts and clamp her legs shut.
“Scoot farther up on the bed,” he directed.
When she was where he wanted her, she felt and heard the bed shift as he joined her. At first, he stretched his body out against hers, letting her soak in his warmth. The smell she had grown to associate with him flooded her senses and she moved her head in an attempt to nuzzle his neck and drink him in. He made no move to stop her. After a minute or so he straddled her and pinned her arms above her head. Then he was attaching something to her wrists. She didn’t recognize what it was, but it was soft. When he pulled his hands away, she tried to bring her arms down to her sides again only to discover that he had attached her to the bed somehow and she couldn’t move her arms very far. The realization that she was restrained caused her to jerk against the bindings, soft material of some sort. It didn’t cut into her skin. It even felt nice. But the knowledge that she couldn’t escape sent her heart racing and she squirmed.
“Be still, Angel. I want you like this. Helpless. At my mercy. I’m going to make you feel so much that you don’t have time to think. For just a little while, you’re going to block everything out and just focus on the sensations I’m giving you. Understood?” Michael asked as he climbed off of her.
“Ye… Yes, Sir,” she whispered, her speech stilted and breathy.
“Good girl. Very good girl.”
Chapter Ten
Michael stood at the edge of the bed and stared at the gorgeous woman splayed out in front of him. Beautiful, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. As much as he wanted to simply make love to her, he needed to help get her out of her own head, first. If he could overload her with sensation, she might be able to leave the complicated mess she found herself in behind, at least for a little while.
He didn’t have anything too intense planned, just a little exploration. Not only could he help her forget, he could learn more about her body and the things she reacted positively to.
“Spread your legs, Angel. Let me look at you.” Her legs inched apart at his request and he chuckled. “That won’t do. Wide, Angel. Let me see all of you.”
“No fair,” she muttered.
“Excuse me?”
“I can’t see any of you.”
“For good reason. Patience, Angel. Now stop stalling. Spread your legs.”
Her legs slid farther apart, and he hummed. Already, wetness had gathered between her legs. It practically begged him to taste. But he resisted—for now. In the bag he’d borrowed from Peter he found a few items that were perfect for what he wanted to do with Adara. Picking up the first item he moved to the bed and stretched himself out next to her, lying on his side propped up on an elbow. With his free hand he grasped the handle of a Wartenberg pinwheel. It looked menacing, which was another reason for the blindfold. She might back away from the wheel of metal spikes if she could see it. As it was, the sound of it jingling as he brought it close to her skin caused her to jump. Starting just above her knee, he gently dragged the wheel up her thigh, stoppin
g just below her hip. Adara’s breaths came rapidly as the sensation shocked her.
“Easy, baby. Just feel.” He pulled the toy up her side and she pulled away from him. Not that she could get far. He clucked his tongue. “Be still.” He watched with rapt attention as her chest rose and fell with each deep breath she took, trying to calm herself. Next, he ran the wheel under her breasts.
“What is that?” she whispered.
“I’ll show you later. Just feel it.” The toy was meant to awaken her nerves and heighten sensation. It seemed to be working. Her nipples tightened as he tugged the wheel up one breast and neared the dark areola.
“It tickles.”
“Quiet. Do I need to gag you too?”
“Please no. I’m sorry.”
“Sir,” he said pinching one nipple roughly between his thumb and forefinger.
“Ouch! Sir. I’m sorry, Sir. I’ll be quiet. Please don’t gag me.”
He blew on the offended nipple and chuckled. “We’ll see.”
When he was satisfied with her silence, he slid down to the end of the bed and began kissing up her body again. This time, he purposely used the stubble of his chin and cheeks to scratch at her soft skin. Small groans and gasps came from her, but to his delight, she stayed quiet. And she tried to stay still but he was intentionally driving her to the point of squirming, so he didn’t chide her when she squirmed beneath his mouth. It was pleasing that he could tell she was trying.
When he reached the apex of her thighs, he gave in to his desire for a taste. His tongue ran the length of her seam. There was no trying to stay still anymore. She bucked beneath his tongue and moaned loudly. Capturing her clit in his mouth, he sucked, hard. She cried out and he increased the pressure, then slipped one finger inside of her. Soon, she was pleading for him to stop and keep going all at the same time. One more finger slid inside her tight opening as he continued his assault on her clit with his tongue.
