“For me?”
Did no one take care of her? “Yes. Drink up, sweetheart.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw the dog wander over to a pile of soft blankets and settle in with a sigh.
Chapter Six
Why was Master Jake being so nice?
Holding the water and aspirin, Rainie regarded him. He was on his haunches, perfectly comfortable in that position. His rolled-up shirtsleeves showed corded forearms under a dusting of brown hair. Along his sharp jawline, his designer stubble was darker from the day’s growth. His steady gaze was compelling. This Dom didn’t flaunt his power, but kept it hidden like the strong current in a deceptively lazy river.
He’d saved her. After flattening Cory without even mussing his clothing, his only concern had been for her. He made her feel…special. Valued.
“Are you going to stay for a bit?” she blurted out and wanted to cringe. What was she thinking?
His eyes crinkled. “Do you want me to?”
This time, she took a moment to think, but oh, her desire hadn’t changed. She’d craved him since she was sixteen. Sure, she was being unwise, yet, why not? As soon as she had the funds, she’d move from Florida and wouldn’t see him ever again. She breathed out, accepting the pain in the same way she’d absorb the impact from a flogger. “Yes. Stay. But I don’t want anything serious. A one-night stand is fine with me.”
His eyes narrowed at her qualification. At the club, he’d picked up on the fact she wasn’t searching for a permanent Dom. But still…it should be a relief to him now, right?
He didn’t say anything…just looked at her.
Under his intent gaze, her entire body heated as if a desert wind swept across her skin. She could smell his cologne—a light scent that combined sex and male in one heady note. Her hand moved of its own accord, over his lean cheek, along the stern jawline.
His lips curved against her fingers. “You sure, sweetling?” he asked, his voice huskier.
Yet the glint of laughter in his gaze made her stiffen. “You’re the Dom. Aren’t you supposed to make all the decisions?”
He turned her wrist over and kissed it lightly. How could his firm lips feel like velvet? “Absolutely—after you say this is what you want. I need to hear the words.” The resolve in his tone said he wasn’t joking. “After that, since you’re not a newbie, I stop only if you safeword with ‘red.’”
God, it was as if he’d flipped open a hormone switch that sent all the blood in her body straight to her core. Put up or shut up, Rainie.
How rare for a man to be so straightforward. None of that “C’mon, baby, just let me…” And oh, she wanted him more than she could say. She leaned forward, her mouth almost on his. What would he taste like? “I’d like you to take me—in any way you desire.”
He tilted his head in a formal acknowledgment she couldn’t duplicate in a million years. “As you wish, buttercup.”
Her insides instantly turned to melted jelly, but he didn’t give her a chance to process how he’d sounded exactly like Westley from The Princess Bride.
He curved his callused hand around her nape and held her in place as his mouth grazed over hers, settled, and then took…slowly and so thoroughly she felt ravished without ever taking a stitch off.
“Mmm.” He studied her face and smiled. “Let’s have another.”
When he halted the next time, she was dizzy, barely comprehending he was guiding her into the bedroom.
He stopped in the doorway, perhaps in surprise at changing from her cottage-style living room to an Italian Renaissance bedroom.
Although threadbare, the richly colored tapestries brightened the walls and faded Oriental rugs were layered over the beige carpeting. Her prize—an ornate Italianate frame bed—took up most of the room. Dark red, gauze draperies hung from a suspended metal frame to create an Old-World style canopy bed.
Smiling, Jake ran his finger down her cheek. “You really are a romantic at heart.”
A shiver ran through her as he tilted his head back to study the well-anchored, rectangular frame that hung a foot below the ceiling. “Well.” His low voice brushed like suede against her skin. “This has potential.”
She bit her lip, belatedly realizing how many tie points the bed and frame provided. And this man was a Dom.
Perhaps she should have kept him in the living room.
“So…wench.” As his lips twisted into a cruel smile, he curled his fingers over the top of her bustier and yanked her forward. “I didn’t save you from your sinking ship—and my crew—to receive a mere verbal thank you.”
“Jake.” Her eyes widened as he started unhooking the front of her garment.
“I’m ready to inspect what my sword has won me.”
Oh God. Her heart pounded as the bustier fell to the floor, and air brushed her damp skin. He lifted her breast, teasing the nipple with a thumbnail. “I’m definitely going to play with these.” The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Although you might not enjoy it as much as I will.”
The sensuous threat sizzled straight to her pussy even as he unfastened her short skirt and shoved her thong down, leaving her in only a garter belt and mesh stockings.
“Those can stay on.” Satisfaction filled in his gaze. “Very nice.”
He pointed at the bed. “Up there, wench. Sit on the edge and await my pleasure.”
She hesitated.
“Too slow.” He curved his long fingers around the front of her neck and smacked her bottom hard enough to make her yelp.
A whine came from behind the closed door, and she realized he’d shut Rhage out.
Jake’s gaze followed hers and filled with amusement. “No rescue for you, sweetling.” He swatted her again, smiling at her squeak. “Tonight, you’re mine for as long as I want to use you.”
The hand around her throat was big enough to grip without shutting off her air…and yet, and yet…if he tightened his fingers, he could.
Knowing she was here alone with him sent little tremors up her spine. Not…quite…fear.
“Spread your legs for me now.” The dark edge of threat sliced into her defenses like a razor through silk.
The burning from her spanked bottom and helplessness under his hands were affecting her, she knew. Nonetheless, her legs inched apart.
He ran his hand between her thighs. “I love a smooth, bare pussy. A pussy that gets wet from spankings is even better.”
Doms discovered secrets. It’s what they did. So why did each bit of knowledge he acquired make her as uneasy as though she’d surrendered part of her soul?
“Go.” He pointed again to the bed.
She certainly didn’t hesitate this time. As she planted her butt on the mattress, he rummaged her bedroom. He picked up several silky scarves from the golden brackets on the wall. Purse straps came from a shelf in her closet. Then he opened the drawer to her nightstand and made a gratified sound.
Embarrassed heat flooded her face. “No. You—”
“Eyes down, woman, or I’ll blindfold you.” He picked up a tube of…
God, that was the peppermint clit stimulant she’d recently bought and had been too chicken to use. She heard its wrapping tear and managed not to look up.
Hard hands pushed her knees apart, and he used the applicator to smear the stuff all over her throbbing clit, ignoring her squirming.
After tossing the tube onto the nightstand, he asked, “You don’t own any nipple clamps?”
God, no. Her breasts were sensitive enough without pointed pokey clamps. She shook her head and dared a look at him.
His cheek creased as he looked at her. “That’s all right, wench. I have other ways to torture female parts.”
She considered grabbing a pillow and covering up the target area. But surely, he wouldn’t push her past what she could take. She knew that. Right?
After examining the gauze canopy curtains for sturdiness, he repositioned the fabric along the metal rail. He tied two opposite sides together to form a kind of sling near the head of the bed.
Finding the candles in the wall shelves, he lit them. Then he checked her music selection on the iPod. When Kitaro’s soft strains drifted from the small speakers, she knew he’d discovered her playlist labeled “Sex.”
The man didn’t miss a trick.
“Eyes down, Rainie,” he warned her again.
She tried to obey, but had to—just had to—watch him.
He sat down in front of her and picked up the first of the scarves, rubbing it teasingly over her skin. Silky and cool. He wrapped it under and around her breasts in an intricate form of breast bondage and…just the sight of his strong fingers, the brushing of his hands as he worked, made her hotter than sex with anyone else.
Slowly, he tightened the knots, and her breasts were forced outward, the skin taut. “Very pretty,” he murmured as he tied off the last knot. He took her mouth again in a long wet kiss, even as he caressed her now-tightly squeezed breasts.
“Lots of toys, but no nipple clamps,” he said. “Must mean these babies are sensitive, doesn’t it?”
And his damned bondage increased the sensation. Her “um-hmm” of agreement rose into a mew as his fingers circled her swelling nipples.
