Fearless (19 page)

As he leaves the stage, Dr. Black comes over to where we're standing. Beckett claps him affectionately on the back.

“Great speech as always, Dad,” he says. “Emma's not feeling well, so we're going to leave.”

I look up in surprise. I feel fine. Beckett gives me a pointed look and taking the cue, I mumble something vague about a headache and say good night to the older man.

“Tell Griffin I'll catch up with him later,” Beckett says to his dad over his shoulder.

“Maybe we should go find him and say goodbye in person,” I suggest.

“He's probably already left with a woman by now,” Beckett says, gripping my waist firmly and propelling me through the banquet hall. “I'll talk to him later.”

Several people stop to talk as we make our way toward the door, and while Beckett never seems rushed, his hand never leaves my waist and he ends each conversation as quickly as possible. When we emerge from the Corinthian, the limo is already waiting. As the door closes behind us, Beckett settles himself into the plush leather seat and practically pulls me on top of him.

“We did it,” I say triumphantly.

“Did what?” he asks, amused.

“Got out of there without seeing Camille again. Isn't that why you were in such a hurry to leave?”

Wordlessly, Beckett takes my hand and presses it against his crotch, which is rock hard.

“Camille has nothing to do with it,” he says, his voice husky. “You squirming half naked on my lap in the storage room, on the other hand, has everything to do with it.” His voice drops an octave. “I won you fair and square. I'm ready to claim the spoils of my victory, Princess.”

My pulse leaps. I squeeze him and he groans, moving my hand. “Not here,” he says, the strain evident in his voice. “We'll be home soon.”

I snuggle up against him, reveling in the knowledge that he is hard because of me. When the limousine pulls up in front of his building, Beckett thanks the driver and ushers me into the building with his usual gentlemanly politeness. A little shiver of anticipation travels up my spine as I wonder exactly how he intends to go about claiming his “spoils.”

I don't have to wonder for long. As soon as the elevator door closes and begins its ascent to his penthouse apartment, he pushes me against the elevator wall, kissing me forcefully. Still aroused from our earlier play, I eagerly kiss him back, my tongue tangling with his in an erotic dance. Abruptly he hits the “stop elevator” button on the control panel and the elevator comes to a grinding halt. I look at him puzzled.

In one fluid movement, he unties the red sash from his waist and turning me roughly, binds my hands behind my back with it. He spins me back around to face him, his brown eyes glittering. The black pants he's wearing emphasize his trim but muscular body, the outline of his manhood straining against the fabric, and his white shirt contrasts sharply with his dark skin. With his feet solidly planted shoulder length apart and his hair still covered by the bandana, he looks wild and dangerous. And like he has just stepped out of my favorite fantasy. My mouth goes dry with the realization that this sexy pirate is mine for the night. Or rather, I'm his. My insides clench at the thought.

“Nothing can save you now, Princess,” he says softly, running a finger across my cheek and down my jawbone. “You're mine.”

I raise my chin and look him squarely in the eye. “You may have captured me, Captain, but you'll never own me.”

His eyes darken. “We'll see about that.”

He presses a button and the elevator car lurches into motion, depositing us on his floor seconds later. Standing behind me, he nudges me forward with his knee. I walk as regally as I can manage with my hands behind my back. He keeps a firm hand on my bound arms as he unlocks his door, unceremoniously shoving me inside.

“On your knees!” he snaps as he closes the door behind us, and I sink to my knees on the plush rug in his living room, my heart racing. He circles me slowly, making me feel like a mouse that is about to be devoured by a tiger. Coming to a stop beside me, he fists his hand in my hair, yanking my head back so I'm looking up at him.

“You will address me as Master. Do exactly as I say and you may live to see another sunrise. Disobey me and I guarantee you will pay the consequences.” His lips curl into a cruel smile. “Although I will certainly enjoy disciplining you, I think you will not enjoy it quite so much. Do you understand Princess?”

I nod wordlessly. Tightening his grip, he pulls my head back further, exposing my throat.

“Try again,” he says, his voice soft but menacing.

I feel my stomach drop.

“Yes, Master,” I whisper. This is hotter than anything I could have imagined, and I have imagined a lot in the lonely years leading up to and after my divorce.

“Very good.”

He lets go of me abruptly and resumes his predatory walk around me. I keep my eyes downcast, trying to catch my breath, as he circles me. His black leather boots stop in my field of vision and I lift my eyes. His crotch is right at my eye level, and I can't help but admire the hard outline of him in those black pants.

Unbuttoning his pants, he slides them down over his hips and his cock springs out, rigid and enormous, the thick veins throbbing with his arousal. I lick my lips.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, and as I do he slides his cock inside my mouth. I close my lips around him, the musky scent of him filling my nostrils. I lick him tentatively, the taste of him foreign and salty. Like orgasms, giving oral sex has never been my forte, and although I've done it before with Tim, I know I never quite got it right.

“Exquisite,” he groans. “Your mouth is so sweet.”

Emboldened by his words, I use my tongue to swirl around his thick head, enjoying the heady power I feel as his cock grows even harder in my mouth. He lets me take my time exploring his manhood, using my tongue, lips, and teeth to work him, teasing him as he teased me last night. I'm just starting to feel like I'm getting the hang of it when he pulls away from me slightly.

“Take all of me,” he orders. When I hesitate, he puts his hand behind my head and pulls me toward him until his cock fills my mouth, setting off my gag reflex. I frantically try to pull back but his hold is firm, taking all control from me. In some remote part of my brain that hasn't been completely consumed by the erotic fog that is clouding all rational thought, I remind myself somewhat wildly that he's a doctor; he won't do anything that could kill me.

“You can do this, Princess,” he says softly. He pulls out, waits a moment, and then pushes deeper into my mouth again. He repeats the cycle several times until I'm able to relax my throat muscles, surrendering to him. I suck him tentatively at first and then harder, empowered by this newfound ability to pleasure him, even as I feel my own wetness sliding down my thighs. There is something intensely erotic about being bound and on my knees in front of him, unable to touch him with anything other than my mouth. I take him deeply, sucking and licking, my tongue rasping the tender underside of his cock until I can feel his thighs tighten. He loosens his grip on me slightly and says hoarsely, “Pull back now. I'm going to come.”

There is no way I'm stopping now. I close my lips over him again in response, sucking down the thick head and taking the full length of him with my mouth until he explodes, a release that is both primal and intense as his semen spurts into my mouth. I swallow quickly, unaccustomed to both the taste and sensation, and I'm surprised to find it isn't as terrible as I had imagined it might be. I smile in satisfaction. The truth is that I would do anything to see that look of pure ecstasy on his face.

He looks down at me, his sensual eyes half closed as he refastens his pants. “I am pleased with you, Princess,” he says softly. “Perhaps I will go easier on you given your eagerness to please me.”

“I could care less about pleasing you, Master,” I say haughtily. “I'm more concerned with staying alive until I am rescued.”

“Is that so?” he drawls, a slow smile crossing his face. He drags me to my feet and pulls me toward him until my body is pressed to his, his face inches from mine. “There will be no rescue,” he says, his voice soft but menacing. “You are mine.”

He lets go of me abruptly, his eyes raking over me appraisingly. “You will have no need for those fine garments here, Princess. Let's see if the assets you hide underneath your clothing are worth all I have risked in acquiring you. ”

Turning me so that my back is to him, he unlaces my corset and tosses it carelessly on the sofa. I wince at the sound of the jewels hitting the leather. He unzips my dress and slowly eases it over my breasts and down my hips as if he's unwrapping a present. He runs his hand down my side and over the flat plane of my stomach as the dress pools at my feet. I step out of it carefully. “Be careful with the dress,” I plead. “Gavin will never forgive me if anything happens to it.”

Beckett takes an intimidating step toward me, his eyes hard, and grips my throat firmly. “Do you dare to tell your Master what to do?” he hisses.

I swallow hard as he releases my throat and take an involuntary step backwards. I remind myself that this is just a game and that the dangerous looking pirate standing over me, tall and imposing, is just Beckett. Beckett, the man who makes me feels safe. He's not really a pirate, and I'm not really his captive. However, the uncompromising look in his eyes isn't helping, and I feel the smallest twinge of apprehension join the thrill of anticipation that is racing along my nerve endings.

Holding my gaze steadily, he slowly unbuckles the thick black leather belt that is fastened over his loose white shirt. My heart trips as he doubles it over in his hand.

“Bend over the back of the couch,” he commands, his voice soft but intimidating. With my heart in my throat I do as he tells me, the leather of the couch cold and smooth against my bare skin. My nipples harden, both from the cold leather and my arousal. My clit is throbbing with desire, and I wonder how I can be so terrified and aroused at the same time. I close my eyes as I feel the cold steel of the flat blade of a knife press against my thigh.
Where had he gotten that?
I hear the quiet snick of the knife as it slices through the thin lace of my thong and it falls to the ground, leaving me completely naked and vulnerable to him. “Spread your legs,” he orders. I widen my stance, a ripple of anticipation making me tremble. Fearless. The word flashes through my head.

I brace myself for the sting of the belt across my backside. However instead of the belt, it's his hand that touches me, gently caressing my buttocks, squeezing each cheek erotically. I moan and wriggle slightly. He trails his fingers up my inner thigh and across the lips of my sex. “You're wet for me, Princess,” he murmurs, spreading my labia and lightly pressing my engorged nub. I writhe against his hand.

“Please,” I beg as he moves his hand away, leaving me needy and hungry for his touch.

SMACK. The snap of the belt catches me off guard, but instead of striking my ass cheeks, he has aimed the blow so it catches me between my legs, directly on my exposed sex. I scream as the exquisite pain sears my clit, sending small tremors pulsing through me. The belt clatters to the floor as he dips a finger into my drenched vagina. My muscles clench around him as the tiny orgasm ripples through me. After a moment, he pulls out of me and stands me upright. He flicks his thumbs across my nipples, smiling as they instantly harden under his touch.

“Question my authority again and you will feel the lash of my belt on your ass until you can't sit down,” he warns. “Do you understand?”

I nod, although I don't think for a minute he would follow through on his threats. If he'd wanted to whip me with his belt he would have done so already. Instead, everything he's done has been carefully orchestrated for my arousal and pleasure. The knowledge makes me bold.

“Aye, Aye, Captain,” I say saucily. I look down at his crotch pointedly, where his hard cock is straining against the thin fabric. “I'd hate to walk the plank,” I add teasingly.

Beckett's eyes narrow. “You have a mouth on you Princess,” he says dangerously. “Perhaps I should gag you.”

I shake my head frantically. Maybe I went too far.

“You are quite disrespectful given your circumstance. Perhaps a little punishment will help your attitude.” He points to the bedroom and snaps, “Now!”

The look in his eyes has me scrambling toward the bedroom as fast as I can. At his command, I stop and stand in the middle of the room as he closes the blinds on the world outside and turns the wall sconces on to their dimmest setting, throwing off just enough light to lend an eerie glow to the room. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to believe I'm actually in the dark cave of a pirate's lair.

Beckett strides toward me purposefully. Turning me, he gently unties the scarf that binds my arms and unwinds it, freeing me. I move my arms tentatively, stretching them. He bends to take my mouth with his, his kiss hard, ruthless, and punishing. My tongue tangles with his in an erotic dance of dominance and submission. I eye him warily, wondering what exquisite torture he has in store for me next.

This time he doesn't ask for my submission. He grasps my wrists and fastens a leather cuff lined with soft velvet around each one, and then clips them both together, immobilizing my arms again, but this time in front of me. Reaching above my head, he grabs a thin cable with a carabiner clip attached to it and pulls it down, clipping the carabiner onto the D-ring that holds the cuffs together so that my wrists are attached to the cable. I look up in surprise, my eyes widening as I see the flexible cable and pulley system that he has rigged over the exposed beams in the ceiling. He pulls on the opposite end of the cable, stretching my bound hands over my head until my arms are fully extended, and then secures it so that I'm immobile, my body stretched and available to him, my breasts jutting forward.