Dalliance in Darkness ( Dalliance #1) (7 page)

“That you’re dangerous and you run a private spy agency,” I said. “And that I could intellectually mop the floor with you.”

“It’s more like an international espionage conglomerate, but close enough,” Dean corrected, paying no attention to the latter.

He was so close now I could smell his scent. He whispered in my ear. “Just a flick of the wrist,” he said. “All you have to do is sign on the dotted line and you can give yourself a whole new future.”

I swayed my head to the right. “I don’t even know you…” I insisted.

Dean put his hand on my thigh, and firmly brought it up to my waist. “But you want to,” he purred.

Something about his voice just sent a sharp feeling through me, I craved the rush. “You want it,” he continued, bringing my face back to him so that he could look at me with those eyes. “And it’s not wrong…” he enunciated each word carefully. “To. Want. It.”

I didn’t have to tell him that he could practically drown a small animal between my legs right now. Not that I would advocate such things. Wondrous tightness gripped me as he held me pinioned in his gaze. “I want it,” I admitted.

“It’s dangerous,” he remarked.

“I expect it to be,”

“You will get hurt,” he warned.

“I’ve been,” I retort.

Dean straightened his back. “You’ll be bait,” he narrowed his brows. “The clients we take and hit have interest in very dangerous games, for women of your caliber,” “they have violent tastes.”

I lifted my chin. “And mine are refined,” I said.

“Not everyone wants refined.”

“I’ll do what’s needed,” I shrugged, glancing over at James.

Dean smiled at that. “Then take my hand.”

I nervously took his extended hand and followed him like I were on a leash that only I could see. The guests continued their meals and conversation, caught up in their own endeavors. But I couldn’t escape the suffocating feeling in my chest, the fear and the excitement gripping me like Pandora after opening the box. I could see it more clearly now, the glass box hanging from a thick ebon rope. An elegant cage for trapped birds. If I could last ten minutes inside of it exposed for everyone to see.

I bit down on my lip having felt both the rush of that scenario playing in my head and the rustling of the ben-wa’s inside me. Dean gestured for the musician to quit and he obliged with an alarming alacrity. He bent to Dean like it was his purpose in life. Still, I could feel my gut churning mercilessly – was I really going to go through with this? In front of all of these people?

Dean whistled and someone off in the distance did something, pulled a lever perhaps. You could hear the mechanics of the device above masked by the ceiling. For every little ticking noise the glass cage made I felt chills roll up my spine. Dean put his hand on the small of my back, but it only made me hyper aware of the faces in the crowd looking in our direction. At me.

I wanted so much to be brave; I focused on Dean’s hand on the small of my back. Tried to focus on something besides the fear.
 
All my excitement fluttered away and it was all that I was left with. A sense of dread, and an impending doom as the cage lowered and touched down just inches from me.

And so I found myself wanting to run. Run run run. It repeated in my mind like it were all that I knew.

“Are you ready?” Dean whispered in my ear, the touch of breath from his lips thrilled me – but did nothing to soothe me.

“Yes,” I replied.

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He looked as though he wanted to persist, but ended up slowly taking my word. I noticed only then as he turned it, that the cage had a golden knob inside and out.

But when he opened the door…

Basic Instinct

I ran.

I ran and found myself trapped under the insurmountable surreal – It had felt like there was no one else in that room besides me as I moved to the elevator – it was as if I closed my eyes and reopened them as the elevator door shut. My heart refused to settle, and I found my head swimming in a sea of confusion.

Even if the fear was too great it spoke to me regardless, just too strongly in that moment. A satisfying ding resounded as the elevator came to a stop. The doors opened.

I froze in place. His skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat – only attractive because let’s face it. Despite everything Dean was well built and irresistible to look at. He just stood there for a moment, his stormy eyes taking me in and a rather big and amused smile lining his face. It was cute and unexpected considering how I had seen him prior. Hotshot CEO with looks to kill no doubt, domineering but with a maybe even refined over the years ease about him.

Either I asked the question nonverbally or he sensed it as he opened his mouth.

“Stairs.” He said simply. There was carefulness to every nuance of his movement as he watched me, taking a cautious step into the elevator.

I averted my gaze, not wanting to look him directly in the eye.

Finally he closed the elevator door behind him and approached me, step by step. The smell of him, part genuine and part artificial – it reminded me something of an earthly musk but with a ticklish hint of chamomile. I didn’t know what to say, couldn’t know. My confidence was far and away in an antique land.

Dean put his hand on the small of my back and the tips of his fingers underneath my chin. “You ran,” He said. The disappointment of that was palpable between the two of us. Not only did I fail to live up to my own expectations I was the wrong horse to bet on to a man who knew how to pick the winners. So what did that really
say about me?

Suddenly I was more aware of my eyes. The tightness in my throat.

I’d forgotten that prickly and warm feeling that just swells and swells behind my eyes. Nerves were not my friend, so I swallowed hard and placed one hand at his side and another against his cheek.

I looked back up at him. “You chased.”

Suddenly his lips were on mine, and I could feel warmth crashing against me. He was unyielding in the way he kissed, biting the end of my lip and pressing me up against the wall of the elevator. In that moment I surrendered to him, to his touch. I wanted to be the canvas to his brush.

I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. Any second now even as he rakes his fingers through my hair someone could see us. But I didn’t care, I just wanted him to strip me down and fuck me. Fuck the consequences, fuck the preconceived notions or morals or standards – fuck all of it – I was going to be who I wanted, and I was going to get who I wanted.

I felt fully alive. With every time that we kissed there felt more and more of an urgency to it. Such primal hunger and yet we barely knew one another. But I couldn’t deny the attraction no matter the thorns.

Dean gripped my hair and pulled it back in a taut manner, his other arm wrapped securely around me – forcing me into position. Shivers of excitement shot down my back, and I could effortlessly feel a hot pulsing between my legs.

That was when it hit me. The mark of his teeth against my skin. God. The way he sucked me off like he was some kind of animal marking his property. Wrestling with my own body, I managed to only hold back for a moment – a strangled moan breaking through and filling the elevator. In the darkest places of my mind hoped someone was listening. That maybe someone could hear my inner slut.

I bit down on my lower lip, the sharpness of the pain heightening everything. So exhilarating. “Call me a whore,” I challenged.

Dean pressed me up harder against the cool framing of the elevator. “Oh?” His voice was so different from how it usually sounded. “You think you’re in charge?” He spun me around and undid my pants.

I leaned forward more into the wall, letting my ass press up against the bulge in his pants. It felt warm and thick. Felt right. With every breath I found myself surrendering further – losing myself to the moment. Maybe he wasn’t the man of my dreams, but he was damn close. At the least he could help me live out a few fantasies.

Dean grabbed my ass and hummed low his approval before winding up his arm.

Crack. His hand had struck my ass hard. But the sound was so satisfying. The sharpness of it and the pain. I squealed and squirmed as his hand rubbed me up and down trying to soothe the pain. Caught between the throes of pain and pleasure I was quickly realizing how badly I wanted. No. Needed--

Crack. Pain snapped through me. “Fuck!”

Dean smiled surely. With that devilish smirk. Prick. He leaned in close to my ear and said ever so simply in his bedroom voice. “Whore.”

I hummed with pleasure and savored the tightness in my core. Just hearing him say it made me want to climax.

Dean traced his tongue and nibbled along the lines of my neck, deciding to give the lobe of my ear a teasing suck as well. “My good little whore.” Dean moved his hand from my ass to my crotch.

I could see it in my mind’s eye even now. Tried to feel the way I could see him fingering me. The way his fingers brushed against the softness of my skin. The little snap of my panties being pulled on and released. Teasing, teasing and teasing.

I moved my hand back to the bulge of his cock against his pants and stroked it. I wanted to touch him, lick and suck him – have him fill me up inside. Just tease myself with the head of his cock, and then let him violate my tight pussy.

I turned my head to look him in the eye. “Fuck me,” I grabbed the tightness in his pants harder. “Please.” I begged. “Just fuck me.” “Violate me.”

Gasping I tried to catch my breath as he suddenly slipped his hand inside my panties and pinched my clit hard. I struggled against him, but his arm was too tightly wrapped around me. The more I resisted, the more he showed me who was in charge.

Dean yanked me back to him and grabbed me tight between the legs. It was only several heartbeats but it felt like an eternity as we locked eyes, our breathing heavy and synched – our bodies locked in a dance all their own.

He circled my pussy with two fingers and kissed my lips deep. “Your cunt had better be tight for me,” Dean grinded his hips against my ass

I shuddered at that. “Very tight for your cock.” Don’t smile. It proved a task greater than I could do.

“You’re good and wet for me little whore. I like that,” Dean slipped a finger inside me gently, picking out the ben-wa balls from inside of me and deftly pocketing them. “Good girl,” he praised.

I groaned to his touch and the way he called me his little slut. “Yesss,” I wriggled my body in his arms, trying to get his fingers further inside of me.

Dean placed a hand on my breast and squeezed against my shirt and bra. Fuck if only he would suck my nipples they’re so hard for his touch and practically begging to be used.

I moaned his name. “Use me.” I begged. “Please.”