by M. S. Parker
Bingo.
I glided closer, accepted a glass of champagne from a strolling waiter when it was offered. The better to blend in, of course. Taking the edge off was just a bonus. When the older couple moved off, I moved in and held out my hand.
“Hello. I’m Aleena Davison…I’m Dominic Snow’s personal assistant.”
He glanced at me and then smiled. “Ms. Davison. I’m Tom, Cecily’s assistant. I hadn’t heard Mr. Snow would be in attendance at the gala tonight. Ms. Cole would be delighted to speak with him.” His smile widened into an all-out grin. “I’ll warn you, she is priming the guests for donations as we speak.”
“Yes, well…” Here goes nothing. “He’s actually not down as a guest. He does want to speak with her though.”
Don’t be mad at me, Dominic. I sweetened the pot. “If you can coax her into giving him some one-on-one time this evening, I can promise you he’ll sign a check. Dominic is very much a believer in Ms. Cole’s cause.”
Tom’s eyes were thoughtful. After a moment, he nodded slowly. “I can talk with her, see if we can work something out. Might I ask what it’s in regards to?”
“Well, that’s more his concern than mine.” I gave him an easy smile and shrugged. “You know how it is, right?”
* * *
“A believer in her cause?” Dominic raised an eyebrow.
I gave him a weak smile. “I wanted to make sure she’d come up here.” With a wince, I said, “Do I need to apologize?”
“No.” He looked up from the empty glass he’d been studying and gave me a bleak smile. “You did exactly what you’d promised, Aleena. And hell, it’s not a bad cause.”
Then he sighed and went back to staring into his drink.
I settled down next to him and looked at the clock. “Tom told me he’d get back to me about a time. I don’t have any idea when it will be.”
Dominic pulled me onto his lap and I settled my head on his shoulder.
“I can think of several ways to pass the time,” he whispered into my ear, his fingers teasing my thigh through the slit in my skirt.
I reluctantly shook my head. “No.” Despite the fact that my pussy was still throbbing from his prior rough treatment, my body protested my refusal. “If he says twenty minutes from now, I’m not going to pull open that door looking like…like…”
“Like the woman I’m desperate to touch?” He ran his fingers down my cheek. “To make love to? All the time? Every day? Every way I can?”
I slid my eyes to meet his and leaned in, kissing him firmly. “Stop being a living, breathing temptation.”
He kissed me back with more enthusiasm, his tongue sliding into my mouth for a slow, pleasurable exploration. He sighed as he finally broke the kiss and then repositioned me so that we were sitting side by side.
“Fine. We’ll watch a movie instead.”
He didn’t sound enthusiastic.
Neither was I.
Waiting sucked.
Chapter Thirteen
Dominic
The movie played on, but neither of us paid much attention. It was a mutual favorite, but we couldn’t focus on much of anything. Every couple of minutes, I’d look at the clock. Then she would. I was definitely wishing I could've talked Aleena into occupying me with her mouth, her body...
Fuck. I understood why she hadn't wanted to though. She cared what...Ms. Cole thought about her.
As the movie ended, the minute hand swept up to twelve, while the hour hand brushed eleven.
“Late hour for a meeting,” Aleena said, trying to break the silence. She smiled at me.
I reached up and touched her cheek. “I love you.” I could hardly believe how easily the words came now.
She covered my hand with hers and nodded. Then she stood up and turned off the TV. I watched her, elegant and sleek in black velvet, as she moved across the floor. I got up and went to pour myself a drink. It was my third and I was pushing it, but I didn’t much care at that point.
The knock came just as I was tossing back half the scotch. I choked, the fiery liquid burning a path between throat and lungs.
Aleena shot me a look as she hurried to answer. I turned away, struggled to regulate my breathing. Fuck. Oh, fuck.
“Hello, Tom. Ms. Cole...”
Ms. Cole. My mother...
Dimly, I heard her speaking. I swiped the back of my hand over my mouth, sucked in a breath and tried to steady myself.
“Ms. Davison, hello. Tom tells me your Mr. Snow has a proposition...”
I turned.
Her gaze came to me and then started to move away.
It snapped back almost immediately and I watched as she lapsed into silence, her face going pale. Shit. I'd forgotten how much I looked like him, the senator. The man who'd gotten her pregnant. My father. Shit.
I didn’t know what to say. Dammit. Why hadn’t I thought of something to say, how to say this?
Her face was ghost white, eyes huge and startled.
“Ms. Cole. May I offer you a seat?” Aleena touched her arm. Cecily looked around, dazed and then nodded, letting Aleena guide her to a couch.
Tom was staring at me, hard, dislike clear in his eyes. He'd already figured out that something wasn't quite right here.
I swallowed and reached up to tug at a tie I wasn’t even wearing. I just couldn’t breathe.
Aleena looked at me and I stared at her helplessly. I didn't know what to do. What to say. Me, Dominic Snow, who was always in control, was completely at a loss.
Aleena gave me an encouraging smile and then looked back at Cecily. “Ms. Cole. I...” She paused and then said, “I need to beg your understanding and your patience. Please.”
Cecily was still staring at me.
“Ms. Cole?”
Finally, she looked at Aleena and nodded.
I retreated back behind the desk and listened. Listened as the woman I’d never expected to love told the woman I’d never expected to find a story that sounded insane, even to me. But it had nothing to do with me. It was about the baby snatching ring from twenty years ago. When she stopped, Cecily was twisting a handkerchief around and around in her hands. After a moment, she looked up. “I know all about that ring, Ms. Davison.” She hesitated and then said, “I assume you’re telling me this because you know about my son.”
“Yes.”
Cecily nodded and struggled to smile. It was an attempt at a cool, collected smile and it was a damn good one.
But it wobbled and I could see the bleak heartbreak in her eyes. What were we doing? I didn’t need to know that badly. I didn’t need to tear open old wounds, did I? What kind of person was I that I'd hurt this kind, caring woman?
“If you know about him, then you know that my son died twenty-eight years ago. A doctor was there. He pronounced him dead at birth.”
Aleena leaned forward. The compassion that had gotten to me from the beginning showed in her eyes. “Your nana heard him crying.”
For a long moment, Cecily just stared at her. Then she leapt up, her jaw going tight. “No!” Her voice was harsh, jagged. Fists clenched at her sides. “No. Stop this. You…why are you doing this? It’s cruel. Isabel left because of what I’d done. Because I’d killed my son with the life I lived.” She swept the room with a gaze, but this time, her eyes bounced right off me as though I wasn’t there. “Tom, we’re leaving.”
But Tom was studying me, and it wasn't dislike in his eyes anymore. It was something else.
“She heard him crying, Ms. Cole,” Aleena said again, her voice gentle. “We spoke to her brother. She was fired the day after you gave birth. She didn’t want to leave. They made her. They wouldn’t let her come back, Cecily. They fired her because she knew you’d given birth to a healthy boy and they sold him.”
“No.” It was a whisper this time.
Her eyes skipped to me, held for a bare moment and I knew she was seeing the face of the man who’d fathered me. She’d felt something for him, I realized with a start. I could see it in
her eyes. He’d turned his back on her. She’d written that much in the book. She’d thought she loved him and now she was staring at a man who looked so much like him.
Clearing my throat, I said, “My name is Dominic Snow.”
She jerked at the sound of my voice, as though it hurt.
“Twenty-eight years ago, on April twenty-seventh, my parents brought me home. I’m adopted...”
I stood up and walked over to her. She sat back down onto the couch, staring up at me with guarded eyes.
I settled on the chair across from hers, not wanting to spook her by sitting closer. “What day was your son born?”
“April twenty-sixth.” Her eye sketched a quick, nervous circle across my face.
“The private investigator I hired made some loose connections between the people who facilitated my adoption and a lawyer your parents used. There was a...sizable transaction that week.” Five hundred thousand dollars. The cost of a healthy baby boy.
She flinched as though she’d been slapped.
“They said he died.” She said it pleadingly, in the voice of the child she once was. But she didn’t sound like she believed it anymore.
I looked down, bracing myself. Then, slowly, I slid off the chair and settled on my knees a foot away from her. “I’m just about positive they lied, Ms. Cole.”
She took a deep breath and then reached up and touched my cheek. “So...my son’s name is Dominic.”
Chapter Fourteen
Aleena
It had been three days. The first twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of paternity testing and questions. The testing had been gently suggested by Tom. “You would both feel better, knowing for sure,” he’d said.
He was likely right, though I was grateful I hadn't needed to suggest it.
The tests, done on a rush in under twelve hours, were positive. Cecily Cole was Dominic’s mother.
The FBI was brought in directly since the case had originally gone to them when it had first been uncovered. With the new information, and two new players—namely the elderly couple I'd seen Tom speaking with—the authorities were confident they could start finding some of the bigger names, and possibly track down other stolen babies.
I almost felt sorry for the Coles. They had only done what they'd thought was necessary to protect their family's reputation. Now, Cecily was cutting off what little contact she'd kept with them and they'd never get to know the wonderful man their grandson had become. Still, the ‘almost’ was all there was. Seeing how badly they'd hurt Cecily took away most of the sympathy I would've had.
Dominic’s parents were a different matter legally. They’d thought they were participating in a private adoption, a pricy one, but a legit one. Or at least one with the mother's consent. Even the FBI said the papers looked legitimate. If Dominic’s mother had had some reservations, something her hunger for a baby had made her overlook…well, it wasn’t anything she would be convicted of. Despite her flaws, in some ways she was a victim too. And now, she had to look at Dominic and Cecily for the rest of her life and know how she’d hurt them both.
The worst part of the whole thing was the press. Someone along the way had leaked the news and we'd been swarmed as soon as we'd gotten back to New York. We’d retreated to the house in the Hamptons for some quiet and now, as night fell, Dominic and I sat staring out over the ocean and listening to the cry of the gulls.
“You won’t be staying in the guest house anymore,” Dominic said suddenly, breaking the silence.
I rested my head against his chest, smiled. “Yes, sir.”
His lips brushed my neck. “I love hearing you say that,” he murmured.
“I love you.” I turned my face and whispered the words against his cheek.
He turned his head so that our foreheads touched. “I love you.” He hooked his finger around my necklace. “Did you ever think that this necklace would come in so handy?”
“How so?”
“Well, it brought us together, didn’t it?”
I laughed. “That’s a good point.”
His fingers slid along the chain then lower, the tip of one teasing the neckline of my shirt. “Come here.”
I shivered and glanced around us, recognizing the tone in his voice.
“There’s nobody here.” Clearly tired of waiting, he pulled me into his lap. His hands slid up under the hem of my skirt, the heat of his hands sending a shiver up my spine. I'd never lounged around in a skirt before I'd met him, but I was definitely learning the appeal of easy access.
I looped my arms around his neck as he bent forward, arching me backward. He pressed a hot, openmouthed kiss to the center of my chest, his mouth open. It was a raw, intimate touch, so much more than a kiss, so much more than a caress.
One arm remained at my back, steadying me, while the other went between us. I could feel him working at his trousers, then tugging my panties aside.
“Inside…?” I whispered.
“Yes. Inside you. Here. Now.”
The demand in his voice was enough to make me not care that we were outside. I groaned as, mere seconds later, he fulfilled that promise, shoving inside me. I was wet and eager; he was hard, demanding, our bodies moving together in perfect sync.
“Take off your shirt,” he said, his fingers digging into my hips as he lifted me, then brought me down, guiding me into a hard, driving rhythm.
My fingers skipped along the row of buttons, shaking, fumbling. When I reached the last one, he took over, shoving the shirt down until it trapped my arms at my elbows. Then he reached for my bra, freeing the clasp and shoving the cups open. “I love your tits,” he muttered, cupping them in his hands as he continued to rock up, driving into me. He slumped deeper onto the couch, rolling my nipples between thumb and forefinger. “Ride me, Aleena. I want to see you, watch you.” His hips stopped. “Use me to make yourself come.”
I swallowed and stared down at him, unfamiliar with this. He was always the one in control. A faint smile curled his lips, as though he knew exactly what I was thinking.
“Ride me,” he said again, one hand going to my hip and showing me the rhythm.
Slowly, I started to move. Up. Down. He cupped my breasts, teased my nipples, but his hips stayed still. I looked down, staring at his hands on my breasts. His cock swelled inside me and I cried out, leaning forward. It changed everything, the angle of his cock, how it felt inside me.
“That’s it, baby…ride me…”
I moved faster, felt everything clenching inside me. Unable to stay still any longer, he started to thrust up, meeting my every downward stroke.
Too much, too much—
I threw back my head and cried out his name.
He moaned mine.
We climaxed together, bodies shuddering as we moved against each other, drawing out every last drop of pleasure until we couldn't hold anymore.
As I slumped against his chest, he slid one hand up my back, under the tangle we’d made of my shirt. I shuddered as his cock twitched inside me, sending a series of sensation tripping through me.
He sighed and shifted, rolling so that we lay sideways on the fat, well-padded cushions of the outdoor couch. Tucking my head into the nook just below his chin, I smiled. “I was thinking…”
“Thinking…” Dominic rubbed his cheek against mine. “If you were thinking just now, I may have to deal with a damaged ego.”
I laughed and pressed a kiss against his side. “No. But…well, my necklace, yeah. It broke. But maybe I should send my old boss a thank you note. If he hadn’t decided to be such an ass, you might not have felt the need to come rushing to my rescue. Who knows…we might not be here. And I’m pretty happy being right here.”
“Oh, Aleena.” He wrapped me up tight, hugging me closer. So close I could barely breathe. “I would have found you. I was all but waiting for a reason to hunt you down. I just didn’t realize it.”
Turn the page to read the first four chapters of Craving HIM, the follow-up story to Serving HI
M.
Craving HIM Excerpt
Chapter One
Aleena
Blood roared in my ears.
The need to come was so overwhelming I couldn’t think past anything beyond that pulsing ache. But Dominic had told me not to come until he gave me permission. He’d told me not to even make a sound and, beyond the harsh, heavy pants of my breath, I wasn’t. Not out loud at least. In my head, I was screaming.
He had me bound to a new toy, as he’d called it. I wasn't exactly naïve, but when I heard the word toy, this wasn't even close to what popped into my mind. It was a padded bench with restraints for my hands and knees—and other parts of me. When he’d handed me my collar and told me he had a surprise for me, I hadn’t known what to think.
I did now.
This thing was a device of pure, sensual torture.
I couldn’t move much of anything.
I was bound to a bar by my collar and wrists. He’d bound my thighs to the raised platform and then my ankles to the cuffs on the thigh restraints. Essentially, I was hog-tied.
And then there were these fucking panties. Except they weren’t just regular panties. Sure, they were a deep red silk that looked amazing against my golden skin, but they weren't simply a sexy pair of underwear. The front was fitted with a vibrator that pressed against my clitoris, and I couldn't even move enough to get relief.
It was torture.
It was bliss.
He pressed a button on the remote he held and the vibrator kicked up in intensity.
I might have disobeyed and screamed, except Dominic chose that moment to shove his cock between my lips. He didn't thrust all the way in and gag me, but it was enough that my body automatically struggled against it.
His little toy put me in position for all sorts of play. One of the reasons he'd purchased this particular device, he'd explained while he'd been strapping me into it.
