Her Highland Master (The Dungeon Fantasy Club Book 1) (12 page)

"I was an account marketing expert with an entertainment agency in Los Angeles. Working with actors, models, and the like." Zoey took a bite and almost groaned. It was the best roast ever, there were hints of red wine, and some type of spice she should be familiar with but couldn't recall the name.

"That sounds interesting. Did you work with anyone famous?"

It was refreshing that someone had not heard of her great life blunder. At least her story had not gone international.
Yet.
"A few, but the confidentiality agreements I signed as part of my employment there actually extend three years past my departure date, so I can't discuss who I worked with at the firm."

"Understandable. So, do you want to keep on working in movies and such? If so, I have some friends in the industry with whom I could put in a good word for you," he said, so earnestly it made her heart sputter. He would, too. There was no guile or rancor, only a generosity that amazed her.

"Um, thank you, but no." Her reputation in the entertainment industry was on life support. No matter who put in a good word for her, that part of her life was finished. She didn't want favors from him, however well-meaning they were. She wanted to stay wrapped in the cocoon of the fantasy here and didn't want the outside world to intrude. If he contacted his friend, they surely would have heard of her complete and utter ruin. Zoey's blunder would become a cautionary tale for those who followed the same career path.

Her time here was supposed to be a vacation from her life. The last thing she wanted was to watch the warmth in Declan's gaze sputter out, and have him stare at her with the same contempt she'd received at the grocery store last week when the clerk recognized her image from the news.

"If you are sure?" he persisted, his visage unreadable.

"Yes, I am. Thank you anyway. I don't know that I want to go back to that particular line of work. It's actually why I'm in Scotland in the first place. I'm trying to figure out what my next step should be." That at least was the truth. She didn't like lying to him, but she needed the reprieve.

"I see. Anything in particular?" he asked as Mrs. Stewart brought their dessert.

The woman was an expert and even though Zoey had stuffed herself, she couldn't turn down the cake. Tomorrow she'd go swim laps in the pool to work it off, she promised herself.

Taking a bite, she groaned. "Um, oh my god that is good," she said, enjoying the pineapple, banana nuttiness of the cake. "I'd always wanted to try the culinary arts. In fact, I was accepted to the culinary institute in California before I went to college."

"Yes it is—good, that is. Mrs. Stewart definitely has a way in the kitchen. Why didn't you go then, to culinary school?" He was earnest in his curiosity.

"My parents. They didn't think there was any good reason why I should go become a chef. Where's the money in that, my father had said repeatedly, until I chose a local college business program. I interned at a movie studio during one of my summer breaks and ended up meeting my former boss there."

"Well, if you want to try your skills in the kitchen, I'm sure Mrs. Stewart would love the extra help, and it might help you decide if that truly is something you want to do," he offered.

"Thank you. You really have been too kind." It made her feel weepy; his need to take care of her. When was the last time anyone had done that?

"And what did your parents think when you left your job and decided to travel to Scotland on your own?"

It still ached. The loss. "It's just my sister and me. Our parents died in a car crash a week after I graduated from college. Do you have any other family in the area?" There was still a stab of pain at the loss, and probably always would be. She'd been twenty-two, fresh faced, with a college degree with the ink still drying on the paper. It had been a sunny Tuesday, she'd been running late for work that day, when she received a knock on the door that changed her and her sister's lives forever. She opened that door to find a state trooper on her stoop, hat in his hand as he informed her about her parents' car crash, told her that she and her sister were orphans. She'd aged almost overnight. She'd had to.

"No. Just me. I was an only child. There are some distant relatives on the family tree that I see about once a year, cousins and such, but none that my parents or I were ever really close to," he explained.

"I'm sorry. That must be hard." Zoey understood more than he knew. Her parents had been only children, and her grandparents had all died before her tenth birthday.

"It is, but you already know that, having lost your parents so recently," he murmured.

"It was six years ago, but there are times it feels like yesterday," she said, remembering how the air had been sucked out of her lungs as she stood at the front door while a state trooper delivered the news. The images of the wreck would haunt her forever. She only hoped that their passing was instantaneous as the officer and medical examiner had said.

Declan gripped her hand. She glanced at him, swallowing back the unexpected tears. She'd never really talked to anyone about it. Sure, both her sister and best friend, but this was the first time she'd explained the horror to an outsider.

"Oh, lass. I am sorry." He surprised her by standing up, scooping her into his arms and sitting back down in his chair, holding her. She melted into his warmth, resting her head on his shoulder. He cuddled her, offering her comfort and a shoulder to lean on. When was the last time she'd had someone to lean on? Certainly none of the men she'd dated. As the oldest, she had been the one taking care of her sister, taking care of the funeral arrangements and dealing with her parents' estate. While the rest of her graduating class had been living it up in all the latest trendy clubs, backpacking through Europe, she'd been making sure her sister finished high school and was accepted into college.

His hands stroked her back, easing the tension she'd not realized she had been carting around. This was something she could get used to all too easily. She laid her hand over his heart, feeling the rhythmic thump, and enjoying the companionable silence.

He kissed her forehead. "I hate to have to leave you, but I have a conference call with one of my boards in China."

And like that, the spell of the evening was broken. Zoey started to slide off his lap but he held her back, tilting her head up. He traced her lips with his thumb. Then he was kissing her. But unlike his previous kisses, this was light, gentle, and oh, so tender she felt her heart stir. This wasn't the storm of delirious passion, but heart melting. It was over before it had even begun and she felt him withdraw, still brushing her lips with his thumb.

Up this close, she noticed all the subtle nuances of his face, his beard, and he was looking at her with such tenderness, she felt tears form in her eyes.

"Thank you, lass, for such a fine evening. I will see you in the morning."

"So you won't be coming to my room later?" she said, more disappointed than she wanted to admit.

"Doubtful. The conference call might take half the night. There are many year-end fiscal details we must discuss."

"Then I will say goodnight to you. Thank you for a lovely meal," she said as he helped her to her feet, standing up after her.

"It was my pleasure. Pleasant dreams." He kissed her once more on the forehead before pulling back and leaving her in the dining room alone. A bereft loneliness settled in her chest at his leaving.

Chapter Seven

Feeling wrung out emotionally, and not a little exhausted from the past forty-eight hours, Zoey filled her wine glass with the last of the chardonnay, taking it with her to her room. She'd cuddle up in bed and watch a movie. She needed something to take her mind off the fact that she wished Declan didn't have a conference call so she could have him come to her room and allow her to explore his body.

It scared her; this need she was developing for him. She only had five days in Scotland left before she returned to the nightmare her life had become. Five days to live out every fantasy she had with Declan.

She opted to use his big black shirt to sleep in. Getting comfortable on the massive pile of pillows, the haze of a full stomach combined with the wine and she nodded off before the credits began rolling on the flat screen.

A knock on the door startled her awake. The television was on but the screensaver had kicked on and was dancing around the screen. Stumbling to the door, she opened it and Declan entered, taking possession of her mouth in demanding urgency. Her body went from sleepy to needy in two seconds flat.

He shut the door behind him as he directed her toward the bed. "If you don't want this, say so now."

She stared into his eyes, feeling desire thrumming in her veins. His direct gaze was fierce with lust. He wanted her and her body melted. There was no running from how this man made her feel. It transcended anything she'd ever experienced before and she wanted to gorge. She answered him with her body, pulling his head back down and kissing him with everything she was feeling.

He groaned as he crushed her to his rock hard body. Her hands ran down his chest. She wanted to know his body. She pulled his shirt up, exposing his beautifully sculpted abs. He aided her quest and yanked his shirt off over his head as he maneuvered her toward the bed. Her hands ran over his nude chest, feeling the soft whorls of black hair that covered his pectorals. She circled him, caressing his arms, testing the firmness of his shoulders. Caressing the lines and divots as his muscles quivered under her touch, making her bolder. She traced her fingers over his nipples. Feeling them harden beneath her tiny strokes, she leaned forward, and with her tongue teased the hardened nub, nipping at it. Declan groaned, his fingers slid into her hair.

Zoey wanted to taste all of him. Her hands stroked the hard bulge hidden beneath his pants. Her fingers trailed to his trousers, unbuckling his belt, unfastening the button, and unzipping them. She slid his pants down over his taut, muscled rear, pushing them down to his ankles and helping him step out of them. He wore black boxer briefs that rode low on his hips. Licking her lips, she teased him, trailing her fingers around the elastic of his boxers, caressing the muscles in his lower abdomen and feeling them quiver. He had stopped touching her, letting her explore his body.

She freed his beautiful erection from his boxers, and shoving them down his legs, she knelt before him. His cock was gorgeous. Thickly erect, it bobbed under her intense scrutiny. She wanted to taste him, more than she'd ever wanted to give oral sex before. The thought of his cock in her mouth made her wet.

"Lose the shirt," he ordered.

Still kneeling before him, she pulled the shirt over her head, tossing it into the pile with his clothes. Wearing only a delicate strip of lace covering her sex, she grasped his penis in her hands. She stroked his length, caressing the span, running her fingers over the smooth head, feeling the pre-cum drops, testing the weight of his balls. Overcome with the desire to taste him, she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock. Her tongue traced around the ridge under the head, teasing the veins and learning his cock. He growled as she sucked him in her mouth, enjoying his taste, how it felt watching the desire in his hooded eyes. She used her hands to help her stroke his long length more fully.

Declan's hands grasped her head as he started pumping his hips, holding her. She felt her own desire increase with every thrust of his penis in her mouth. She imagined his long member pounding inside her vagina and felt wetness run down her legs.

When he attempted to pull out from her mouth, she would have none of it. She wanted to taste him fully, wanted him to come in her mouth. Grasping his cock, she was relentless as she bobbed her head so that he was powerless to resist. His penis swelled, his hips thrusting wildly, he held her more firmly, fucking her mouth with his cock in deep rapid strokes, pounding his member against the back of her throat. He jerked.

"Ahh," he groaned as his orgasm hit. His cock jolted, pouring his seed inside her mouth. She sucked him fiercely, swallowing the hot streams as they erupted, keeping up her pace until his body stilled and his erection began to swell again.

She released him, sitting back on her haunches. Her breath hitched in her throat as her own desire raced in her veins. Declan hauled her to her feet and kissed her mindless, growling as he tasted himself on her lips.

His hands roamed down to her sex, his fingers dipping in and finding out how hot she was for him.

He stopped kissing her and she moaned. "Please, Sir."

"Our night is just beginning. Give me a minute." He grabbed the shirt she had worn and his belt. Her body throbbed in anticipation, willing to surrender to whatever he desired. Need hummed in her veins, what was he going to do to her?

He positioned her at the foot of the bed, near one of the wooden bed posts. "Give me your hands."

She complied instantly, earning a smile from him. He covered her wrists with his shirt, binding them together, used his belt over the shirt to secure her hands, then took the strap and wrapped it around the wood, securing the belt with the buckle on the post. He set the restraint at waist level, making it so she had to bend over. Her insides clenched as he moved behind her.

His hands rubbed her rear, playing with the flesh, separating the two halves so that she was completely exposed. She couldn't see what he planned to do, anticipation mingled with need. Had any man ever sent her hormones into overdrive? The potent expectancy was almost anticlimactic when he rubbed his hands up and down her legs. He pushed them apart until her thighs were spread in a wide V that ended at her sex.

Declan's hands teased around her sex, stroking her thighs, the outside of her mons, but not touching the sensitive nub. She groaned as he played with her labia, caressing the slick folds, but only circling her clitoris. She tried to rub herself against his fingers.

He bent over and whispered in her ear, "Don't move. Understand, lass?" He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, then his hands wrapped around her, fondling her heavy breasts, which were swollen with need. He rubbed his hips against her butt, his rigid penis sliding enticingly against her flesh. Mewling sounds erupted from her lips at the tortuous contact. She wanted his hard length pounding inside her flesh.