All He Needs (All or Nothing) (25 page)

She shook her head furiously. “Uh-uh. Save those for someone else.”

“But I had them made for you.”

“Return them then.” She glared at him. “That’s definitely a no. You’re mistaking me for one of your paid ladies.”

“Not likely baby,” he said with a grin. “They don’t talk back.” Then he gave her a look that suggested she must have been locked away in the convent for the last twenty years without a pearl necklace because even there they knew about virgin asses. “You should try it,” he said, smooth as silk. “You might like it. Remember, I’ve heard you say no before just prior to screaming the house down with a climax.”

“Don’t look so smug.” But her heart was beginning to pound because that was a real cocky smile. “This is way different.”

He stared at her. “I could make you do it. You like it when I make you do things.”

The deep tenor of his voice and the heated memory in
his words was ramping up her libido. She could feel herself getting wet. “Jesus, don’t look at me like that,” she said, trying not to sound breathless. “I don’t
want
to, okay? There’re plenty of other things I
like
to do.”

He grinned, thinking how lucky he was to have her, how goddamn fuckable she was. “Open your mind, baby.”

“I’ll do that just as soon you open your mind about your feelings.
Comprende?
” she said, a familiar edge creeping into her voice. She catapulted out of bed and walked to the bathroom, slammed the door, and locked it. A few seconds later he was pounding on the bathroom door. But it wasn’t loud or violent; it was a low, steady pounding, like drums beating a message through the dark, hissing jungle. Like he knew the message would get through. Like he knew it was just a matter of time before she opened the door.

When she finally did, he was standing there.

“Hey.” He smiled, slow and sexy and knowing.

The small sound vibrated through her body.

“Compromise?”

She nodded.

He held out his hand and she went to him.

He drew her to the bed, where they sat, his warm fingers twined with hers, their side-by-side poses like
American Gothic
, bedroom version.

She let out a small breath and he glanced at her.

“You first,” she said.

“Give me five minutes with the pearls.”

“Then I get five minutes with what I want?”

He nodded.

“You’re not going to ask what?”

“Should I?”

“It’s not sex.”

He sat there a moment. “I don’t suppose I have to wonder what it is?”

“Not if you were listening when I jumped out of bed a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, what the hell,” he said with amusement. “How hard can it be?”

But he made it clear that his five minutes didn’t include anything else but the pearls. Because, although he didn’t mention it, he had to make sure that Katherine was so sexed up, so wet and horny, so aching with need and near climax that she wouldn’t back out.

He had her stand between his legs where he slowly undressed her, lifting off her blouse, unzipping her jeans, slipping them and the lacy wisp of panties down her hips and legs. “Now this uncomfortable bra,” he said with a smile, reaching behind her and unclasping the hooks. “My long-suffering tits need consoling.”

She softly exhaled as her breasts were freed, and gently stretched her spine.

“You really don’t like bras, do you?”

“No more than you’d like your dick strangled in a jock strap.”

He laughed. “So I should be more understanding.”

“My boobs would appreciate it.”

“Spoilsport,” he murmured, his mouth twitching. “But I suppose I should apologize to my tits.” Taking her by the waist, he pulled her closer. “I’ll kiss them all better,” he whispered, sitting up straighter so his breath warmed
her nipple, then the warmth of his tongue followed and, wrapping his hands around her breast, he tugged her lower, took her nipple into his mouth, and sucked for long endless moments. Until her breasts felt swollen and engorged and every small suction of his mouth, no matter how gentle, slid down her quivering nerve endings, heated and delicious to the deep, powerful ache pulsing between her legs.

Kate groaned, moved her hips in frenzied need, laced her fingers through Dominic’s hair, clutching his head to her breast, wanting more, wanting him deep inside her. But he slid the dildo into her dewy cleft instead and she whimpered in craving, in disappointment, overwhelmed by sensation, feeling punished and pleasured in equal measure.

But seconds short of her orgasm, when she could already feel herself starting to peak, he dropped his hands and sat back. “Intermission, baby,” he said calmly. “Act two coming up.”

“I’m going to kill you,” she spat, reaching down for the dildo.

He stopped her. “Kill me later,” he said, grabbing her wrists, pulling them together over her stomach, and holding them immobile in one hand. “When it’s your turn.” Reaching for a gold bracelet, he snapped first one, then the other on her wrists, checked that the chain was clasped together before releasing her. “Prologue to act two, baby. Does being my captive turn you on? It sure as hell does me.” He reached up and stroked her swollen nipples. “Feel good?” he said unnecessarily, as she softly groaned.

She was warm and tingling everywhere with the dildo buried deep; feverish and flushed and so damned close to
being where she wanted to be, she could almost measure the distance to carnal release. But that satisfaction was eluding her, quivering just out of reach, the wild craving shuddering through her body, agonizing, intoxicating, beyond any former memory of need.

But Dominic was in control as usual.

Once her breathing calmed, he pushed the dildo deeper, then deeper still, carefully monitoring her response, her moans, whimpers, how she moved her hips into his thrust, how the mounting tension was building in her body. “Having fun?” he asked, a small smile playing across his mouth.

She didn’t hear him at first, so he stilled his hand.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

“I was wondering if everything was fine so far,” he said gently, circling the nub of her clitoris with his index finger.

Her whole body jerked, pleasure swamped her senses, and she softly moaned.

“You want to come don’t you?” he murmured, pressing her pulsing clit in little perfectly placed tap, tap, taps.

Instantly, the first ripples of preorgasm spread through her belly, slid up her spine, tightened her sex, and she pressed into his hand.

“Not yet, baby,” Dominic said, placing a restraining hand on her hip. “You’re not quite ready.”

“I can’t wait,” she breathed, shivering with desire.

“Of course you can.”

And he pulled the dildo out.

She squealed in frustration, glared at him, and said through her teeth, “You son of a bitch.”

He smiled. “True, but we won’t let that get in our way.”
Coming up off the bed, he kissed her tenderly in apology and whispered, “It gets better, baby.” He held her close, her naked body pressed to his, her cuffed hands a potent reminder of her submission, of his control, of the riveting dynamic that held them both in thrall. Sliding his hand downward, he pulled her bound hands up and framed his denim-covered dick with her fingers. “Rub me,” he said, taut and low. “Hard.” Lowering his mouth again, he slowly slid his tongue past her lips, shifted his hips forward, and kissed her slowly, deeply.

Softly panting into his mouth, desperate for release, she traced the length of his erection with her fingers as ordered, rubbed her palms over the rigid swell of his dick. Inhaled his soft groan and deliberately bit his tongue. Just to remind him that she had a say in this game.

Swallowing the taste of blood, he drew back, held her challenging gaze. “Are we doing this rough, baby? Just asking.”

“I’d like to just do it,” she hissed, “sometime this fucking year.”

He broke into a grin. “Will you ever learn patience?”

“About the same time you learn there’s a word called
love
.”

He went utterly still.

She laughed. “Jesus, Dominic, is it really that fucking scary? You can always change your mind, you know.”

His voice went soft. “You like to jerk my chain, don’t you?”

“You’re jerking mine. I want to come and you’re giving me shit.”

“Then let’s get to it, baby.” He picked her up and seated her on the bed.

She looked up. “Don’t forget, I get my five minutes.”

“I haven’t forgotten.” His smile was wicked. “Right after me.” Taking her shackled wrists, he slid his other hand down her back and eased her down on the bed. Then he rolled her on her side facing him, placed her cuffed hands across her waist, put a pillow under her head, and surveyed her with a faint smile. “Very nice, baby. Are you comfortable? Everything good?”

“You’re having fun, aren’t you?”

He grinned. “Not yet, but I’m guessing I will.”

“Don’t forget, there’s a time limit.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to wait a year.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You’re not really in the position to give orders, baby.” He gave her a lazy wink. “I’ll be doing that.”

Instantly, her nerve endings began to twitch, an insistent throbbing pulsed inside her, as if Dominic had only to look at her with that casual absolutism her body perceived as the sweetest of tyrannies and she melted.

He smiled. “You’re going to thank me soon, baby. I can tell.”

She tried to ignore the rippling pleasure warming her senses, was both horrified and aroused at the power he exerted over her. “I may not,” she said, trying to speak in a normal tone, “depending on what you do.”

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said pleasantly, watching the flush pink her cheeks. “You will.” Dropping to his knees beside the bed, he gently kissed her, then sat back and looked at her for a moment, his mouth slightly pursed.

Her breathing picked up. He was making her nervous. “It better not hurt,” she warned.

The silence stretched and she was about to tell him no way, when Dominic blinked. “You look amazing, baby,” he said softly. “And I won’t hurt you. I’d never do that.” He brushed her cheek with his fingers. “We’ll try some conventional foreplay first. Take it easy. You okay with that?”

Her heart was racing; she bit her lip.

He didn’t move, although one eyebrow lifted faintly.

“Okay,” she whispered.

His smile was improbably sweet and a bit relieved. “Thank you.” Then his mouth quirked into his more familiar killer smile. “
You
can thank me later.” Picking up the dildo, he slid his finger down her slick sex and glanced up. “I guess we can save the lube for later.”

She took a breath before she answered, the imprint of his gliding finger still shivering through her body. “Is that a problem?”

He looked amused. “Certainly not. It’s one of your many charms, baby.” Sliding the dildo into her sleek cleft, he waited for her to catch her breath and open her eyes before he moved his hand. Then he slowly drew the dildo out, pushed it in again, watching her as she softly moaned and rode the rhythm—in and out, side to side, deliberately focusing on her G-spot for lingering moments. Very soon, she was panting again. “So far, so good?” He raised her chin with one finger, held her gaze, and gave her a smart-ass grin. “Nod if you don’t feel like talking.”

“Don’t… forget L-O-V-E,” she panted, locking her gaze with his, fully capable of keeping up with smart-ass grins. “Although—I’ll expect—actual words. A nod won’t—”

He’d made a small adjustment so the dildo was lodged
firmly against her G-spot and he watched her shudder. “Don’t talk,” he said. “Now shut your eyes.”

“You don’t like me glaring at you?”

He smiled. “Jesus, what don’t you understand about don’t talk?”

She stuck her tongue out.

“Anytime, baby.” He put his hand on his zipper.

She held up her cuffs. “I’m a little—busy right—now.”

He bent to kiss her. “That’s the way I like you,” he said against her mouth. “This is my kind of busy.” He shoved the dildo deeper and as she lay quivering, he slipped the black silk scarf over her eyes and tied it behind her head. “Tell me if you feel things more intensely now.”

“I still feel like killing you.” But her voice was wispy, and tiny pearly rivulets were sliding down her thighs.

Goddamn, that was one lush centerfold. In another life, he would have ravaged her without compunction.
With old habits hammering at his brain, he dragged in a breath of restraint and did a slow ten count to tamp down the worst of his impulses. “Give me a minute, baby. I’ll change your mind,” he said softly, easing the dildo a modicum deeper and tapping it in place. “I’m good at this.”

While she whimpered with ecstasy flaring through her senses, Dominic pushed her plump breasts up and out, until they were perfectly framed by her arms and her nipples were fully accessible. Then he dipped the brush into the jasmine scented lube and ran the sleek sable tip around and around her nipples, watching her crests swell and peak, taking his time, pushing her back down as she arched her spine, tense and greedy, begging for more. “You
always rush, baby.” He slid the brush over the heavy swell of one breast, down the deep valley of her cleavage, heard her gasp, and whispered, “Relax. It gets better.”

Restless and frustrated, aching, frantic for release, she violently shook her head, “Let me come,” she whimpered. “You don’t have to do anything for me after. You don’t have to talk about anything. Please, Dominic! Oh God, please!”

“It’s too soon, baby,” he murmured, pinching one nipple until she cried out before releasing it. “Trust me.”

She moaned as the blood coursed through her nipple again, and the pain was replaced by a rush of pleasure, every sensation more intense with her eyes covered, every craving more explosive. She pressed her legs together, trying to bring on her own orgasm.

“No you don’t.” Forcing her legs open, Dominic lifted her ankle over his left arm and, leaning in, used his other hand to brush the slippery sable tip over her taut flesh framing the dildo. Up and down, around and around, while she writhed and whimpered and her whole body began to quake. Then, without warning, he lifted her ankle from his arm and placed her foot on the bed. “Think of something soothing, baby.”