Breathe (16 page)

“But the exercise will be of the carnal variety.” Elijah’s lips curled up in a cocky grin as he released her. Samantha swallowed hard, her fingers straying to lips that now felt swollen.

“I’m going to fix you something to eat. You will be showered, dressed, and in the sitting room to eat what I have made you in twenty minutes.” Catching Samantha’s wrists in one hand, he tugged her to her feet, then leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “Don’t be late. I’m not sure Captain Mattias could handle another punishment.”

And then he was gone, leaving Samantha staring after him, openmouthed.

I’m not sure Captain Mattias could handle another punishment
.

“I’m not sure I could, either,” Samantha said to herself, then hurried into the bathroom, her skin flushing at the memory.

The feel of another man’s hands on her body had been deliciously taboo. She’d been scared at first that it had been some kind of test—that Elijah wanted her to hold her desire in check for anyone but himself.

But he’d given her permission to enjoy it. And with those words, it was as if it had been
his
hands on her body, stroking her skin, suckling her nipples.

Though she’d already come twice that afternoon, Samantha felt another surge of heat to the tender space between her legs.

“Good grief.” Hastily she ran a brush through the hair that had tangled as she slept. She braided it tightly, then splashed cold water on her face, hoping it would snap her out of the lust-filled haze in which she was currently floating.

It didn’t really help, but it did make her feel a bit more awake.

Next were the clothes that Elijah had laid out for her.

“Oh, hell no.” Samantha cringed as she picked up the first item. She was pretty sure it was called a bustier, a confection of crisscrossing straps and lace.

It was also almost the exact same shade of green as the sculpture that had brought her into Elijah’s life. Considering how observant he was, she knew that that wasn’t an accident.

“That’s kind of sweet,” she murmured under her breath as she tried to figure out how to get into the contraption.

Intensive searching revealed a zipper hidden down the side. She sighed with relief, then slid into the garment.

Samantha dared a glance in the mirror once she had added the short, tight skirt in a matching shade of green and the black boots that covered her all the way up to midthigh.

She was startled by what she saw. She’d never been the kind of woman to pay much attention to how she looked—in fact, for many years she’d done her very best to downplay any of her physical assets.

But right in that moment, in the clothing that Elijah had chosen for her, she felt attractive. Sexy, even.

In the past she had avoided dressing to look that way, afraid of feeling as though she had deserved what had happened to her.

But she hadn’t chosen to dress this way—she had donned these clothes to please Elijah.

It was satisfying in a way that she had never before considered.

Look out, Elijah
. It was with a decided sway to her hips that she left the bedroom and entered the sitting room. The swagger disappeared the moment she saw the golden-haired man, the moment those blue eyes fixed on her.

Devoured her.

“You look lovely,” he said warmly. She was startled when he rose from his seat and held his hands out for her. His gaze made her acutely aware that he’d now seen every last bit of her . . . and that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Thank you.” She took his hands, trying not to squirm as he looked her up and down.

“You didn’t shower.” His voice was inquisitive, not angry, but Samantha still found herself squirming.

“Uh, no. I didn’t.” Hoping to change the subject, she looked over his shoulder to the coffee table, where he had set a plate with two lopsided sandwiches and a bottle of water. “You made me a sandwich. Thank you.”

“Samantha.” Clasping her chin in his fingers, Elijah pulled until she had no choice but to look right at him. She sighed internally, just beginning to understand that this man had an attention span like nothing she’d ever encountered before.

“Why didn’t you shower, Samantha?” She cringed inwardly as she tried to find a way to escape the question. Elijah waited, still as a statue, her chin clasped in his fingers.

Finally she huffed out an impatient sigh.

“I didn’t . . . I didn’t want to wash you off of me.” She winced as the words hit her own ears.
Oh, that sounds so incredibly needy and lame
.

“You didn’t want to wash me off of you?” Elijah repeated her words, disbelief coloring his voice.

She nodded, casting her stare to the floor.

Before she could even inhale her next breath, he had gathered her up in his arms and she found herself with her legs around his waist. His hands were cupped beneath her ass, pressing her naked, tender pussy into the front of his leather pants as he consumed her in another of those hot, hard kisses that stole her breath away.

When he pulled back, she stared at him in confusion.

“What was that for?” she asked, hearing the tremble in her own voice.

“You please me.” Elijah smiled down at her, but she saw something more in the depths of his eyes—something he didn’t seem willing to share with her.

Though curiosity clawed at her, she didn’t press. She had secrets of her own.

Then Mattias’s voice sounded over the intercom, interrupting the intimacy of the moment. “Mr. Masterson, Miss Collins, we’re beginning our descent into Las Vegas. If you would please have a seat and fasten your seat belts, it would be greatly appreciated.”

The man’s voice was a reminder to Samantha of how his mouth had felt on her breasts.

Of the look on Elijah’s face as he watched.

“What happens now?” Samantha turned to Elijah as they sat on the couch. As before, he buckled her in himself, as if he needed to make sure that she was safe.

Her short skirt rode up as she curled her legs beneath her, and Elijah’s eyes immediately found the pale skin that was revealed.

He turned to her and grinned, then ran a finger over the newly naked skin with a touch so light yet so sensual that she shuddered.

“Now you’re going to eat your sandwich. Then we’re going to In Vino Veritas.”

CHAPTER NINE

T
he Vegas club was nothing like Samantha had expected. Rather than the neon lights and pulsing music she’d seen outside Pecado, In Vino Veritas looked more like a large, sedate house. The only clue that it was anything more than a personal residence was the long, curving drive in front of it and the dreadlocked man who took keys and greeted those arriving.

Elijah had told Samantha a bit about the club once they were cozily ensconced in the limo that had driven all the way onto the tarmac to collect them at the airport. But she was having trouble getting her mind around the fact that he owned a chain of resorts in Mexico and another club here.

She said so, and Elijah cast her a sidelong glance.

“I own a lot of things, Samantha.” His thumb stroked over the sensitive skin behind her knee, and she had to struggle to stay focused.

“You own a lot of things, or you own a lot of places?” She suspected it was a little of both. The man owned his own luxurious private jet after all.

“Well . . . both.” Elijah turned fully then, catching one of Samantha’s hands in his own. “What is it about wealth that makes you so twitchy?”

Samantha felt her body stiffen. She shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d noticed, because the man had eyes in the back of his head, but it still made her nervous.

Elijah wasn’t the type to appreciate secrets; she knew that about him already. He wouldn’t be impressed by the fact that she’d embarked on this kind of relationship with him while keeping part of her past hidden inside.

She’d just have to make sure he never knew.

“Oh, I’m just not used to it, that’s all.” Though it wasn’t the entire truth, Samantha wasn’t lying. Her mother had had plenty of wealthy lovers, but those lovers had never felt the need to take care of her children. In fact, most of them had seemed to prefer pretending that Gemma Collins didn’t
have
two young daughters who needed clothing, food, and, more than anything, their mother’s attention.

Samantha shook her head as if to clear it. She was not her mother, chasing after fantastically wealthy men who were already married and would never take her as more than a mistress. And Elijah was not one of those men, immune to her needs and desires.

The comparison still made her twitchy, but she pushed it out of her mind. She wasn’t going to deny herself something that she wanted so badly simply because her mother had made poor choices.

“You’re not telling me everything, little cat.” Elijah pinned her with that stare again, and Samantha felt his eyes stripping away the defenses she’d blocked up around herself over the years.

She opened her mouth to deny it, then snapped her jaw shut again. She wasn’t going to lie to the man—that wasn’t fair.

But she wasn’t going to share more than she figured he needed to know.

“I’ll let it go for now, Samantha.” His voice was steady, but his tone sent a frisson of anxiety through her. “But only for now. We have a lot of work to do together, you and I, and I know that I can’t expect your complete trust yet. But I will earn it. Don’t imagine that you’re off the hook forever, because you’re not. Part of the complete submission that we agreed on means that when I ask you a question, you answer honestly . . . and you give me the entire answer.”

Samantha found that her desire was making her defensive. “I asked you if you own a lot of things or places, and you certainly didn’t give me a list.” She was indignant—it wasn’t fair for her to be judged by one set of rules and Elijah by another.

To her relief, Elijah threw back his head and laughed, which lifted some of her tension. His question was deflected . . . for now.

“All right, then. I own a chain of resorts. I own a few shopping malls and some hotels. I have stakes in various other businesses, buying and selling them as they interest me. These include but aren’t limited to a line of natural soaps, a video game company in Japan, and a company that produces cloth diapers.”

Samantha’s mouth fell open as the list continued. She barely noticed when the door to the limo opened and the dreadlocked man outside held out a hand for her.

“There’s also In Vino Veritas, of course, which, as I’ve told you, is the business closest to my heart. Right, Julien?” Pinching her on her ass under the miniskirt, Elijah urged her forward and out of the car. She stumbled from the low-slung vehicle rather than making the graceful exit she’d been hoping for, thanks to the extremely short skirt and the sky-high boots.

The man Elijah had called Julien pretended not to notice, righting Samantha with one smooth movement and grinning at Elijah as he did so.

“Damn glad you’re back, you lazy-ass,” Julien said.

Samantha blinked, sure that Elijah was going to throw a punch, or at the very least verbally slap down the other man. On the surface Elijah was easygoing, but Samantha had learned quite quickly that beneath the amiable top layer was a core of steel.

“Alex and Luca running the place to the ground already, are they?” Elijah snickered as he exited the limo behind Samantha. “Figured. I’m clearly the alpha dog here.”

Julien quirked his lips, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he did so. “I’m not touching that one with another Dom’s dick,” he started, rocking back on his heels and eyeing Samantha with interest. “Pretty new sub, E. Where’d you find her?”

“Mexico.” Elijah clasped his hands around her waist, the touch light but decidedly territorial. Samantha eyed the other man curiously, noting that he carried himself with the same bearing that she’d noted in Elijah and Angelo.

“If you dared to look at me so boldly inside the club, sub, I’d ask Elijah for permission to lock you into the stocks.” Julien spoke mildly, but his words sent shock waves through Samantha. She looked at the floor so quickly that she felt her neck muscles protest.

Elijah chuckled softly, but she felt his hands squeeze her around the waist with reassurance. No one was going to be locking her in the stocks, which was good, in case they turned out to be exactly what they sounded like.

“Did you get the studio built?” Elijah asked. Samantha heard another car approach, tires crunching on the ground, and had to fight the impulse to look up.

“I did.” Samantha watched Julien’s feet, clad in slick black leather shoes, as he accepted the keys from the people who were noisily exiting the next vehicle. “And Luca is dying to tell you how pussywhipped he thinks you are for doing it.”

“Shut up, Julien. Hello, Angie, Charlotte,” Elijah said, greeting the new arrivals, who, based on the sky-high high heels that came into view, were clearly female, and likely subs. “Good to see you.”

Samantha felt a surge of jealousy, which she knew was irrational, given that Elijah was here with her, his hands banded around her waist.

She didn’t like the feminine giggles that followed.

“Master Elijah,” one of the voices cooed in a sugar-sweet tone that made Samantha grind her teeth. Growing up, she’d given Beth hell during the one occasion that her sister had decided to try out the role of silly girl.

“Oh, you have a sub with you tonight. I was hoping you might let me serve you this evening,” one of the women said. A sleek blonde with legs that seemed to go on forever dropped to her knees at Elijah’s feet, putting her in Samantha’s view. “If you bore of this submissive, I hope that you will seek me out.”

The woman took the time to send a nasty glance Samantha’s way, hiding it from Elijah behind the curtain of her perfect hair. She then looked down at the ground, her expression nothing but sweetness and light, the picture of a perfect submissive.

Samantha saw red. The woman had spoken about her as if she didn’t matter. Even the Doms she had met, while bossy, treated her with more respect.

“He doesn’t need you, you bleached bottle blond bitch. He has me,” she murmured.