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Authors: Arianne Richmonde

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BOOK: Broken Glass
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“How do you know you’re the first?” I teased.

“Because I’m the only one who’s got the right key,” he said with confidence, his voice gruff.

He eased himself in a fraction more.

“Okay?” he asked. I could, for a second, feel a sharp stab, but soon it dulled and I wanted more. More of Daniel Glass. More of his cutting pain.

“Don’t stop,” I said. He desired all of me? The feeling was mutual.


Have
to have you, Janie. Every . . . —” he thrust in deeper—“Last . . . ”—deeper still—“Millimeter.” He punctuated each word with his movements, pushing in slowly—a feeling so alien, I couldn’t even place it. Not seeing his face was unnerving. All I knew, though, was I didn’t want him to stop. He was gripping my buttocks like they belonged to him, his cock delving into my secret place, deeper, more taboo, on every thrust. But then, as if by osmosis, knowing what my body needed, Daniel brought his hand to my clit and began to rub, cupping my entire mound with the strength of his whole palm, draping over and around me like a magic glove, pressing all the right buttons.

I entered into a new realm. A tunnel of flashing lights. But the pleasure . . . dark. Forbidden.

“Oh . . . fuck,” I moaned.

Each thrust was coupled with his hand gripping my core, building, building into a monument of painful gratification. Yes, it hurt back there, I couldn’t deny it. But in a good way . . .

Pain. And pleasure. Pleasure. And pain.

Opposites melding into one whole.

“This. Hot. Little. Ass. Is. Going. To. Make. Me. Fucking well detonate!” Daniel was trailing kisses all over my back, lashing his tongue on my flesh, that skillful hand still cupping me tight, my clit rippling in a delicious, delirious world of its own.

“I’m coming,” I screamed out, hoping the limo was soundproof and, just after I said it, I could feel Daniel’s fountain of wet heat shoot into me, literally a millisecond after I fell to pieces with the strangest, yet most powerful orgasm of my life.

Perfect timing, once again.

6

“Y
OU SURPASSED YOURSELF, Miss Cole,” Daniel said, a trace of a smile passing across his face.

We were back at the apartment of his swanky hotel that had floor to ceiling windows, which looked out to the colorful Vegas lights and to the horizon beyond. He had carried me here—both of us in a semi-state of undress—riding the elevator to his penthouse, as he carried my worn body in his arms, across the threshold, straight to the bathroom where I was now, soaking gloriously in a white marble hot tub. He’d ordered room service, earlier, watching me as I ate a bowl of pasta while in the bath. I now felt exhausted, spent, both physically and mentally. He’d pushed my limits. And I’d let him.

I didn’t reply to his comment. He had just gotten out of the shower and, leaning over me with his dripping wet hair, planted a chaste kiss on my forehead. He knew better than to tamper further with my boundaries and he could, perhaps, gauge my silent mood. There was a part of me that felt angry with him, as if I had given him a little piece of my soul that he might take and store in a dark place, never to return it. As if he were a vampire drinking my blood. He’d stolen something from me tonight.

“It was a one-off,” I replied in a quiet voice.

“That’s fine, baby. Just great to know we have that bond and belong to each other now. We melded in a very meaningful way, don’t underestimate the significance of what we did.”

Melded.
That was the very word I had thought of. There was no doubt that Daniel was right. I lifted my chin. “I don’t belong to anyone, Daniel. And I’m not your baby.” Why I said this, I had no idea. I wanted to claim my independence, prove to him that I was my own person, not weak-willed, not his toy. I wanted him to believe I didn’t need him. I was begging myself to believe that too.

“Kate, with her shrew-like claws out, I see,” he said, referring to the role he always said I should play: Kate from
Taming of the Shrew
. Daniel chuckled, almost enjoying my mercurial disposition that less than an hour ago had me in such a vulnerable yet wanton place—all his; every single part of me—but now had me taking back my power. Or trying to. He loved a challenge.

“Watch out or these claws could strike,” I murmured.

“I think it’s your bed time.” He stood up and fetched a giant, fluffy towel from a heater rack and helped me out of the tub. I stood there like a child as he patted me dry, my lips set in a sullen pout. The man had taken me, pulled out an illicit orgasm from my body as if it were the easiest most natural thing in the world. I should have been rejoicing to feel so in love with him, so at one, but all I wanted to do was fight. Rebel. Kick and scream.

But not tonight. I was too tired. He’d worn me down. He’d taken everything from me and was calling it his own.

And I hated him for it.

I WAS AWOKEN by Daniel’s kiss, soft on my lips, and inhaled his Glassy scent, which mingled with the tail end of my dreams . . . a cliff, me flying, an angel . . . I was still immersed in my fantasy world. Light accosted my face, but I kept my eyes firmly closed. I wasn’t ready to get up yet, and feeling too just-fucked—even though it happened hours ago—to have more sex with him right now.

“Beautiful girl,” he whispered. “Beautiful, beautiful girl.”

I heard him quietly leave the room and make a couple of phone calls, the second of which caught my attention.

As if he were ordering takeout, he rattled off a list of sex toys to buy, some of which sounded more like torture implements from the medieval age.

“Yes, some handcuffs, but nice ones, you know, lined with something soft so they don’t bruise the wrists. What else . . . let me think . . . Oh yes, a set of . . .um . . . nipple clamps.”

My ears perked up. Nipple clamps?
Ouch.

“A couple of whips, one with a tassel, and a riding crop one.”

Double ouch.

“And a paddle for spanking.”

Triple ouch, but very, very curious.

“A bondage scarf, or mask, or whatever looks sexy, but also a little dangerous.”

Hmm, yes
.

“Edible body paint, or maybe just some sort of melted chocolate.”
Oh, yes
please
.

“Black, lace, crotchless panties, and bra to match . . . better be extra small,” he added as an afterthought.

Wait, hang on
 . . . 
that’s a bit intimate
 . . . 
who the hell is he speaking to anyway?
One of his minions?
Daniel was used to people running around for him. Embarrassing . . . I only hoped I didn’t have to come face to face with this person.

I lay there, still half dreaming, too tired from last night to get up. Daniel obviously had more kinky stuff planned and, despite my cross face, mock rebellion, and threat of claws, I now welcomed ‘playtime’ with relish.
Rehearsals, here we come
! I couldn’t wait. I’d always loved working with Daniel, but this would be the most thrilling experience of all.

I slipped back into slumber, expecting Daniel to wake me in an hour or so.

But when I did finally haul myself out of bed, he was gone.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee stirred my senses. I found a note by the coffee machine.

Janie,

I saw the fire in your eyes last night after our extraordinary tryst. I can only see what happened as a beautiful thing, and it seemed you loved every second of it, although I fear you now feel compromised in some way. I admit, it seemed like an act of domination on my part, of male conquest. But it was more than that. Far more. “
Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies
.” Aristotle said that, and it’s true.

Janie, I cannot deny I want each, tiny part of you to be mine. You inspire me in a way no woman has. Ever. You desire me in a way that no woman has. Ever. I was a broken man and you are piecing me together, little by little. Shattered pieces of Daniel Glass, that’s who I was . . .I had lost all faith in women, all trust, and you, Janie, have given me hope.

Let me show you all the ways I can love you.

Don’t eschew the inevitable.

Because it is . . . inevitable . . .

You. And. Me.

Me. And. You.

Always yours,

Daniel

P.S. I’m out for the day. I have business to attend to and a little space does always seem to make the heart grow fonder. And I’m sure you’ll secretly miss me.

P.P.S. Took the liberty of ordering a few props for our “rehearsal.” I do believe, Miss Cole, after the way you so obviously enjoyed our scenario in the limo, you’re definitely ready for more, even if you are sharpening those shrew-like claws. Your bites and scratches won’t faze me one bit, though. In fact, I rather relish the idea of a bit of S&M.

Clever man. He always knew the right moment to hold back. Not having him here, not having him in my face alarmed me.

What ‘business?’ Where had he gone? Why couldn’t he be more specific? I held the note in my hands, my pulse racing.
“Inevitable.” “Domination.” “Shattered pieces of Daniel Glass.”
The words he chose were somehow shocking. It was true, he
had
been shattered by Natasha’s cheating. Shattered too, I supposed, by her death, even if they were about to get divorced, even though he’d known the baby wasn’t his.

Daniel loved me. Why did this terrify me? Would I lose myself in him completely if I submitted? Too late, I
had
submitted. This man was a powerhouse in every way. Persuasive, dominating. He could own me completely if I wasn’t careful.

It was easy to revere someone from afar. Easy, when Daniel had been unattainable. But knowing the feeling was now mutual, and the relationship was changing from distant adoration to reciprocal, the present dynamic threw everything I had come to know out of balance.

And I had been so obsessed with Daniel for so long, and put him on such a high pedestal—used to being in a position of unrequited love—that now that true love was being offered to me—our relationship on an equal footing—I was flabbergasted.

Mainly because when something seems too good to be true, it usually is.

AFTER SHOWERING I called room service and ordered a hearty breakfast of cereal, toast, eggs, and hash browns. And fresh orange juice to wash it all down. I was ravenous. Daniel had depleted me. It had been that way in rehearsals for
As The Wind Blows
, too. His exacting, demanding character never letting up for a minute. His intense, blue-eyed gaze always on me, as if judging me, sizing me up. And now that there was sex in the equation, it was even harder to hold my own. My resolve of fighting for my independence was already waning. The ache between my legs, the throb of wanting him inside me, holding me in his arms, his breath on my face, his tongue in my mouth, had already picked up pace. And it wasn’t even midday.

I replayed the limo scene in my mind and heard a low wistful whimper coming from my throat. I needed this man, for better or worse.

And boy, was I ready to start “rehearsals.”

My cellphone caught me out of my reverie. It was Will. What had he done last night? It didn’t bear thinking about, but I needed to let him have his freedom. Even if he was my little brother, Will was now twenty-one, and had shown us that he had a mind of his own. He was a man now—his body alone, not to mention his sexual appetite—had turned him into a new person.

“Will, what happened last night, how come you never showed?”

“I did, but you’d gone. You’d gone. Janie. Your guy’s name is Daniel Glass, right? Right? The director you like? The director? The one who bought you that dress and took you to the party?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice tentative.

“The fuck!” Will shouted. “I met a couple blondes who told me—”

“No, Will, it’s all gossip, don’t believe—”

“How could he do that to you?”

“Will! Listen, it’s all . . . Will, are you there? Hello . . ooo?” But he’d hung up.

I called my father. It took him a while to pick up. My gaze wandered to the Strip from the penthouse window: cars passing, people wandering in an out of hotels and casinos, the bright lights and neon signs of Vegas twinkling and flashing, the pale purple mountains in the distance, reminding you that this was nothing more than a massive patch of uncompromising desert.

“Janie,” Dad said breathlessly. “Great to hear your voice. How was the party? Are you in your room, I’ll come over. Or we can meet for breakfast, by the pool.”

“I . . . ” –I was a big girl, there was no reason why I should pretend that I’d spent the night in my room—that I had not been at Daniel’s—but I found it hard to come out and say it. “Sure, but I have a few things to do first, how about lunch instead? Is Will with you?”

“No, he just went out in a rush but will be back later.”

“Where did he go?”

“I have no idea, but seemed pissed at something. Janie, Will is taking on a whole other persona now, taking things into his own hands—it’s all new to me, and I don’t know how to handle it.”

BOOK: Broken Glass
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