Breathe (13 page)

“Say it,” he commanded her. He nearly moaned himself when her cunt clenched around his hand.

“I like having control taken away from me.”

Elijah crooked his fingers inside her tight passage then, pressing against the spot that would drive her to orgasm. He reveled in her response, the way she writhed against him, the way she stiffened in his arms right before she came.

Though it nearly killed him to do it, he pulled his fingers from her heat before she could come. She cried out at the loss, then groaned with disappointment when he stepped back and moved away from her.

She started to rise as he circled the desk.

“Don’t move!” he snapped, coming around to the front of the desk. Placing his palm flat on her cheek, he pushed her head back down.

She whimpered, but let him move her.

“Why?” she whispered. “Isn’t this what you want?”

Elijah held back a sigh of frustration. He wanted this more than anything.

But she had to understand.

“You organized this entire scenario, Samantha.” Elijah remembered so many similar circumstances with Tara, where she had topped from the bottom.

He listened to her sharp inhalation, saw her part her lips, likely to protest.

He pressed his finger to her mouth, hushing her so he could finish.

“You dressed to seduce me. You blindsided me with your request. You stripped. You had an entire scene planned out, controlled to your liking, and that isn’t how this works.”

Elijah watched Samantha’s face closely. She opened her mouth to speak, defiance blazing in her eyes, but he could see her mind reeling. Before she spoke a word, realization seemed to wash over her.

“Oh my God.”

Elijah exhaled with more than a hint of relief. She understood.

Now it was up to her to decide where to go from here.

Rounding the desk again, he undid the buckle of the belt, then unwound it from her wrists. Tossing it to the side, he massaged the skin that had been abraded by the leather, then helped her to a standing position, turning her at the same time.

She looked mortified. It pained him to see it, but he knew that it was what she needed in order to understand how things would really work in a D/s relationship.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and even when he placed a finger beneath her chin, she looked down. “I . . . I didn’t . . .”

“You didn’t what?” he asked softly, and increased the pressure beneath her chin. “Look at me, Samantha.”

Her eyes flicked up and met his stare.

“I didn’t realize that was what I was doing,” she said. Elijah saw genuine remorse in her gaze. He winced inwardly.

Humiliation was not one of his favorite activities. And yet a Dom had to do things that he didn’t particularly savor when it was what his sub needed.

“What is it that you want, Samantha?” God, he wanted this woman. “Do you want to call the shots, to play at bondage in the bedroom and nowhere else? Or do you want to give up control, and in return be cherished as the treasure that you are?”

Samantha swallowed audibly, and when she pushed him back, Elijah felt his heart sink.

He received the shock of his life when she clasped her fingers together and looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“I want you,” she said, her voice strong and sure. A surge of emotion that he hadn’t expected to feel lanced through him, combining with the arousal and giving his heart a painful tug. “I want you and no one else.”

•   •   •

S
amantha held her breath as she waited for Elijah to respond. She wanted—desperately wanted—him to take the decision out of her hands.

“You want me, and you want the things that I want?” Elijah asked.

Samantha understood that this was her last chance.

She was sure. He was the key to everything she wanted and couldn’t attain for herself.

“Yes . . .
Sir
.” Her entire body tensed.

She watched as the disbelief on his face melted into pleasure. Giddiness washed over her when she saw that she’d made him happy.

“How long will it take you to finish this sculpture?” He pinned her with his eyes, and she froze in place, as immobile as if he’d physically bound her.

“Four weeks. Give or take.” Samantha’s heart was pounding.

“All right. Let’s say four weeks. Four weeks to create the sculpture. And let’s say four weeks as well for you to explore your submissive side.”

An entire month to explore the things she wanted with the man she wanted. It seemed too good to be true.

Catching both her hands in his, Elijah pulled her with him as he moved to the desk. He positioned her as she had been before, the edge of the desk pressing into the soft flesh of her belly, but didn’t bind her hands or bend her over.

She yelped when he smacked an open palm over the globe of her ass.

“Answer me.”

She forced herself to swallow the retort that was on the tip of her tongue—she would have responded if he’d phrased it as a question. “Yes, Sir.” She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice.

“That’s a good little cat.” Elijah stroked a hand over her spine, and Samantha shivered.

“In this month you will be my submissive in all areas. Is this understood?”

“Is that what you want?” she asked softly. “A full-time submissive?” The research she’d done had told her that some Doms did indeed want someone to be submissive to them twenty-four/seven.

The idea terrified her. She wanted to give up control, but she didn’t know if she could do it that fully.

“For the next month, I expect you to be a full-time submissive.” Elijah paused, as if measuring his words. “If we decide to continue the relationship beyond that . . .”

Samantha felt her heart skip a beat. He was thinking beyond the next month. Was it possible that this gorgeous, intriguing man wanted her for more than sex?

“If we continue it beyond that . . . then we can discuss new terms. But I expect that the woman I’m with allows me to call the shots and trusts me not to push her further than I know she can go.”

Relief was a wave that battered her skin.

“I want a man who will take control, not ask for it,” she whispered, and felt his body stiffen behind her. “I’ve had to be in control for so much of my life. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“Samantha.” Elijah whispered her name into her hair, stroking a hand over the long braid at the same time. She felt like the little cat that he’d called her beneath the touch.

She gasped when, without warning, he wrapped her braid around his hand and tugged. His other hand pushed roughly between her legs and pressed inside her again, the way he had been only minutes before.

Samantha hissed as he entered her—the rough entry stung. But then he began to crook his fingers inside her once more, pressing against that exact spot in her womb that made the pleasure intensify.

“You are going to come for me
now
,” Elijah commanded. Samantha gasped, a high-pitched sound, as the banked sensation returned in an instant, bringing her to the brink again. She realized that she had no choice but to follow his order, her body betraying any semblance of free will that she might have held on to.

The orgasm came hot and hard, a slap in the face that left her weak and wrecked and, impossibly, wanting more.

She whimpered when he pulled his fingers out of her. He drew a soothing hand down her back, then reached for the sundress that she had tossed onto the desk. She watched, dazed, as he bunched the material in his large hands, then pulled it over her head with surprising gentleness.

As if she were nothing more than his doll, he moved her arms through the thin dress straps, pulled her back against him as he smoothed the skirt over her hips.

“Are you okay?” He spoke into her hair, inhaling deeply.

Was he
smelling
her? Was Elijah Masterson, hotel tycoon, actually sniffing her hair after bestowing a massive orgasm on her like magic?

She didn’t have the energy to even ask.

A quick squeeze on the hips reminded her that he’d asked a question.

“Yes . . . Sir. Thank you.” Samantha drew in a shaky breath as Elijah released her. She watched through suddenly heavy eyes as he opened one of the drawers in his desk and retrieved a slender leather folder.

He opened it, and she saw that it was a checkbook. The sight brought reality crashing down, reminding her of their complicated situation, and she squirmed uncomfortably.

If he noticed, he didn’t comment—and Samantha took that to mean that he was giving her a moment to compose herself, since she realized by now that the man missed nothing.

He scribbled on the check, then signed it with a flourish. He passed it in front of her eyes before folding it in half and tucking it into her cleavage.

“I thought the agreement was for half down payment, half on delivery.” Samantha eyed him narrowly, wondering what he had up his sleeve.

He smiled benignly, his fingers lingering on the plump swells of her breasts. She shivered beneath the dance of his fingertips.

“Here’s another lesson for you. Dominance and submission are about trust,” he reminded her, allowing his hands to dip into her dress and play over her nipples. Samantha moaned and pressed into his touch. “That trust goes both ways. Your commission and our other agreement have nothing to do with each other, but I’m using this as an opportunity to demonstrate that trust.”

Samantha shivered as he slid his hands out of her dress, over her torso, and around her waist. He leaned forward and nipped at the tender flesh of her earlobe.

“I’m going to enjoy the next month more than you know.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

“L
as Vegas?”

Samantha shifted on the leather bench seat and tried not to let her disbelief show in her expression. Only a few hours had passed since Elijah had bound her hands with his belt and pleasured her against his desk, but it seemed like a lifetime.

Elijah smiled but said nothing, and she shook her head to clear it, certain that the movement would wake her from the incredible dream that she’d been swimming in for the past hour.

“I’m confused.” Samantha eyed him from the corner of her eye. She wasn’t entirely sure of what her “complete submission” entailed. Was she allowed to ask him questions?

He didn’t frown at her, so she took it as a sign it was okay to continue.

“We are in a limo. This plane is
your
plane. We’re going to Las Vegas, to your club and your home. And all I have is the dress I’m wearing.”

“Watch your tone,” Elijah replied, “or you won’t even have that dress.”

Samantha gulped. She wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” She had to repress the urge to smile cheekily every time she called him by the title. Somehow she didn’t think he would see that as acceptable submissive behavior. “It’s all just a little surreal.”

His expression softened, and he held out a hand for her. “Come here.”

Elijah pulled her into his lap, shifting so that she straddled him. Her skirt hiked up around her hips, and she hissed as her bare pussy pressed against his torso.

“Yes, we’re going to Vegas. It’s my home, and I find that I very much want to show it to you. I’ll have a temporary studio built for you so that you can work. If you’re missing anything, all you’ll have to do is ask.”

I find that I very much want to show it to you.
Samantha felt her heartbeat stutter, then speed up. She’d known Elijah for only a few days, but knew she was falling head over heels for him.

If he decided to walk away once the month was over, she’d move on, because that’s what she did. But she knew that her heart would break, at least a little.

“You don’t have to worry about needing anything. That’s my job.” Elijah bent his head and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. It was only a whisper of a touch, but it stole her breath.

“Okay.” She frowned when a thought occurred to her. “I do need to deposit this check. I need to wire some money to my sister.”

“You have a sister?”

She froze as she realized that she’d revealed something about her past. She’d agreed to complete submission, and she intended to honor it—she would answer whatever he asked. But she’d really rather avoid the past altogether.

She felt that it wouldn’t break her agreement with Elijah if she concealed some details of her past. As far as she was concerned, some memories were best forgotten entirely.

She had to think that way in order to live some semblance of a normal life.

Elijah was waiting patiently for an answer. Samantha bit her tongue until she tasted blood, then nodded reluctantly.

“Yes. Her name is Beth.” She waited for Elijah to ask more questions, but he was silent for a long moment, seemingly content with what she had given him.

She tried to hold back a frown. She couldn’t keep up with the man.

A sharp knock sounded on the door to the limo.

“The plane is ready,” Elijah said, lifting her gently off his lap. She could see the muscles of his arms rippling even beneath the sleeves of his shirt, and she fully appreciated the view.

Elijah opened the door to the limo, then urged her forward. Samantha felt spectacularly ungraceful as she clasped the proffered hand of the driver standing outside, then tried to clamp her legs together as she exited the limo.

The last thing she wanted was to give the entire tarmac a peep show.

“Roberto—” Elijah nodded to the driver, then pressed a paper bill into his hand. “
Gracias
.”

“Your chariot awaits,” he whispered into Samantha’s ear as he bent toward her. One hand pressed into the small of her back, urging her forward.

Samantha took a last, somewhat desperate look around at Cabo San Lucas. Mexico had been her refuge for nearly two years, and she hadn’t been back to the States since. She had mixed feelings about venturing there now.

Casting a sidelong glance at Elijah, she pondered that. She supposed it was symbolic that she was returning now, as she was stepping into something new.

As if sensing her anxiety, the hand at the small of her back slid to her hip and squeezed. She looked up and caught Elijah smiling down at her, with a look so full of possession that it made her pulse skip.