Declaration to Submit (8 page)

He gripped her chin with his left hand. “Hold still. I’m going to come all over you. I want you to watch. Watch me come, Anelda.”

His other hand stroked his length. It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen. It never occurred to her that a man jacking off would be sexy, yet her mouth watered at the sight.

His guttural cry preceded the absolute amazing sensation of his cum hitting her skin. She couldn’t stop but came when the warmth hit her neck. It was one of the most satisfying things she’d ever felt. He’d come on her, marked her as his, fucked her like she belonged to him.

She spiraled into an orgasm that robbed her of thought and breath. Just as she believed she’d come down from the incredible heights, his mouth was on her pussy, licking away every drop of her cum.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Her mind reeled, pleasure rolling over her again and again. Finally, he drove her into a sharp convulsion, and she screamed, a loud release that rang in her ears long after she was too hoarse to make a sound.

Her whole body shook as he backed away. “That’s what I wanted.”

He went into the next room but returned before she could move. The cuffs were back, and he’d brought one of the bundles of rope. She was splayed out, her hands cuffed to the headboard and her feet tied to the bed frame. Her legs were spread, and she was completely immobile.

When he tested the rope, he met her gaze. “What’s your safe word, Anelda?”

“Salmon. What are you doing, Sir?” she demanded.

“Do you want to use your safe word?” he asked as he tightened the rope at her right ankle.

“No, Sir.”

He went into the next room and came back with a dildo and a butt plug. And a bottle of cold water. He lifted her head to drink. She took a sip and started to say something. He shook his head. “Drink more first.”

Almost the whole bottle was gone before he’d let her talk. “How did you know, Sir?” she asked him.

“Know what?” he said as he played with a few strands of her hair.

“That I wanted to be tied up.”

“It’s no secret, Anelda. I knew from the way you responded when I pinned you down. When I told you to keep still. You like restraint.” He ran his finger over her collarbone, and she shivered.

“What else, Sir? What else do I like?” She softly moaned as he pinched her nipple.

“We’re going to find out.” He grabbed an extra pillow and put it under her hips. She gasped as he twisted the dildo inside her pussy. She was going to be very sore tomorrow. At the moment, she floated, drifted, her mind fuzzy. It was worth any discomfort in the future to experience the absolute release of control. She trusted Mark to take care of her, to keep her safe.

When he knelt between her legs, she thought he was going to repeat his performance of earlier and make her come. She’d forgotten the butt plug.

He slathered her puckered hole with lube and began to tease her with the tip of the plug. His other hand thrust the dildo, turning and twisting until it touched a spot that made her arch toward his hand.

“I noticed that the idea of anal sex scared you and made you hot,” he said, his voice low and sexy. “It’s important that you remember your safe word.”

“I remember.” She squirmed beneath his touch. “Please.”

The contrast between the pressure on her anus and the pleasure of the dildo was already intense when he flipped a switch and two prongs on the dildo vibrated on her clit. She careened helplessly toward release.

And she didn’t have permission to come.

“Please what?” He demanded as he pressed the plug against her ass but didn’t penetrate her fully.

To save herself from punishment, she tried to increase the pressure from the butt plug, hoping the pain would drag her back from the edge. Mark seemed to know and thrust the blunt object deeper into her ass.

“You’re so perfect, Anelda. Such a pretty little hole.” His voice was husky and tight.

She opened her eyes and watched him stare at her. He licked his lips, and she wanted his mouth on her. She had to close her eyes because the sight of him devouring her with his gaze was enough to bring her closer to the edge again.

For an instant, her mind intruded. What was wrong with her? What would he think of her? The perfect secretary had her ass begging for a plug and her pussy weeping like a waterfall for more. He had to believe she was a slut, angling for a job, sleeping with the boss.

“Beautiful. Just amazing,” he murmured. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, how much more I want to do to you.”

His words were a balm, as if her thoughts were ugliness and his banished them. He thought she was beautiful. He thought her pussy was beautiful. She stole a glance at his face, wanting to see his expression. Her lower lip trembled, and suddenly, his stare focused on her face.

He slid closer to her and brushed away some stray hair. “What is it, Anelda? Am I hurting you?”

It was the tenderness, such a contrast to his Dominant self, that undid her. In her wildest dreams, she’d never considered that a Dominant would be kind and sexy at the same time. She wasn’t used to this kind of sexual revelation in her relationships. When men in her past had fucked her, they didn’t talk about it. They just did it. And not one of them had made her so hot with their comments. It broke down any barriers she tried to put between herself and this man who turned her into a puddle of need.

Words poured from her like water. “How can you think I’m beautiful? You don’t know me, just met me and I-I—” She took a deep, shaky breath. “And I’m coming for you like a porn star.”

He cupped her face with his palm, not a glimmer of a smile lighting his face. “Don’t know you? Oh, Anelda, I know you.” He pressed his lips to her cheek. “I know you take care of everyone around you except yourself. I know you have always wanted to belong, to be a part of someone. And I know you’ve always believed there’s something wrong with you for wanting the things I’m giving you now.”

His words were like an arrow to her gut. She felt exposed. “How?” she whispered.

“How do I know?” He kissed her lips. “I know because I feel the same way. You knew, didn’t you? You felt it when you looked at me at the bar. And there it was.”

She nodded. “I thought I was being irrational.”

“You were listening for once.” He went back to staring at her ass. “Listen to your body, Anelda. Listen to what it wants.”

She closed her eyes and tried to do as he ordered. Her mind was always her best weapon, her surest ally. Her body betrayed her, let her down when it was tired or sick or wanting things it couldn’t have. Now, she felt alive, like she’d woken the animal beneath her skin.

“Tell me,” he demanded. His hands traveled over her skin and lit fires everywhere. “Tell me what your body says it wants.”

“More. It wants more,” she said with an exhale. “I want you so much. I want you to do more to me, Sir.”

“I want to hear it,” he ordered. “I want to hear every detail.”

Chapter Five

No one had ever been that honest with him. And no one had ever sent Mark Conners over the edge of control. No one. She had. She gave him detail after detail of what she wanted, what he made her feel, what she needed from him, and he gave it to her until she fell asleep.

It was midafternoon, and she was curled up. Her restraints were long gone, removed when he couldn’t stand her begging to touch him anymore. She’d clung to him, changing their passionate encounter into something more intimate. It should have scared the shit out of him. Instead, he wanted to do it again. He stared at her and traced the relaxed features of her beautiful face with his fingers.

When had he gone beyond the realm of desire and into a deeper, less understandable emotion? It wasn’t fair to her. He had studied her, desired her, fantasized about her for months before he’d met her in person.

She was only aware of him as her future boss, the man who had orchestrated a takeover of the company she worked for. Now, she knew him as a purveyor of kinky sex. What more could he expect from her?

Yet she hadn’t held back, giving him word after word that spoke volumes about her vulnerability. She’d let him inside her. He wasn’t sure he could return the favor, and he didn’t want her to realize it yet. Perhaps it was cheating, but he wanted her chained to the pleasure he gave her before he revealed his darker nature. She’d know soon enough as his secretary.

He pressed her face into his shoulder, and his heart clenched when she cuddled closer to him. This was going to get complicated. But nothing worth having was simple. The most intricate negotiations in business led to the biggest rewards. He thought it could be true in personal relations too. At least he hoped so.

At some point, he must have relaxed enough to nap himself. He awoke with a start when the light in the room changed, the night moving in and his stomach empty. Nell murmured something and tried to hold on to him when he moved out of the bed, but she didn’t wake up.

His hunger for food forgotten, he stared down at the naked, disheveled woman who was a paragon in the office and a mother hen to her coworkers. None of them had seen this version of her, the goddess who was well fucked and satisfied. He wanted to believe he was the only one who had seen her like this, the smell of his cum on her skin and the scent of sex filling the sheets on which she was sound asleep.

He went on the hunt for his clothes and dressed. As a Dominant who played with submissives regularly, he was aware that he hadn’t completely followed the basic rules. That he had let his lust lead instead of control. Sexual desire was always a tricky taskmaster, and he’d allowed his need to fuck Nell to overwhelm his need to dominate her. Yet he wouldn’t say that aspect hadn’t been there between them as he’d restrained her and made love to her.

Rather than a strict D/s experience where he kept the upper hand and vigilant detachment, he had been as lost in her as she’d been in him. It unnerved him. Not that he hadn’t remained in charge, but he had immersed himself in her and her needs. That was a unique feeling for him.

He tiptoed into the next room and called room service. After a few deep breaths, he was steadier, focused. Time to put his next fantasy into effect. But before he demanded any more from her, he had to feed her. An hour later, the smell of food did what nothing else had done. It woke his Sleeping Beauty.

She had donned a robe made of some silky material, and tried to smooth her hair with a shaking hand. “Do I smell lasagna?”

“Close. Raviolis. Come and sit down.”

As she slid into one of the chairs at the small table, he noted that her hands plucked at the belt of her robe. She licked her lips and cleared her throat twice before she met his gaze.

It was interesting. Most women, especially the submissives he’d been with in the last few years, were confident, almost cocky after great sex. Nell seemed more nervous than she’d been when he proposed the itinerary for the weekend.

“All right, Anelda,” he said, deliberately using her given name to remind her that she was still in his care, if not in a scene. “What’s wrong? Remember, you’re supposed to communicate with me if there’s a problem.”

She inhaled and blew out a long breath. “I feel embarrassed and clumsy. I’ve never done…this…before.” Her gaze was glued to the tabletop. “How am I supposed to act, Sir?”

He reached out and took one of her hands, holding it gently. “How did you act when you slept with those other men?”

She waved her free hand, a dismissive gesture that made his heart—and his ego—swell. “This was totally different.” She pursed her lips together, then sighed. “I suppose that’s a clingy thing to say, but this
was
different.” Her hand closed in a fist inside his grip. “I don’t sleep around, and none of the sex I’ve had involved handcuffs or rope.” She cleared her throat again. “Is there some secret handshake I need to learn for this?”

“Open your hand,” he ordered.

Her nostrils flared, and she tightened her lips, but her hand relaxed. He brought it close to his lips. When he pressed his mouth to her palm, she trembled, and he smiled. “There is no secret handshake. What you and I are doing is special and intimate. That can be unnerving.” He met her gaze and pressed her hand to his cheek. “But you belong to me. I will take care of you and protect you.”

“What about how I feel? What if—” She stopped, swallowed, and tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let her.

“What if you start to want more from me than fucking?” he asked her bluntly. “What if you start to want something permanent?”

“Stop it,” she snapped, jerking away from him. “I’m not used to this. You are. Don’t tell me I’m the first submissive you’ve ever had.”

It surprised him that her comments got under his skin. The tone she used seemed to imply that he played around. He hadn’t been very serious about those other women. Of course, none of the women he’d played with had ever pushed him so close to the edge, either. Anelda Armstrong was going to be a problem.

“No, you aren’t. But if you think it meant nothing to me, then you’re wrong.” That was a lot more than he wanted to say. There were so many things she didn’t know about him, about his pathological need to stay out of the harsh glare of publicity, his strange relations with his family, his frenetic work habits.

She was silent for a moment, and then she snorted, leaned back, and crossed her arms. “Well, I bet you don’t have to say to yourself that it’s just sex. I do.”

The surge of satisfaction was unavoidable. He couldn’t suppress it. His feelings were conflicted. When he began this odyssey of pursuit, he hadn’t considered a more serious connection. He was attracted to Nell’s obvious need. “I didn’t even consider saying that to myself,” he said slowly. “Because it isn’t.”

She blinked twice. “What?”

He sighed. “I told you relationships were complicated enough, and kink made it even more complicated, remember? Why don’t we just enjoy the weekend and worry about the rest later?”

It seemed reasonable. Even though he wasn’t feeling very reasonable at all. When she nodded and picked up her fork, preparing to eat, he realized he was more invested in her answer at the end of their time in Vegas than he wanted to be.