Marked for Pleasure (3 page)

The desire to make her scream with pleasure shot through him like a bolt of electricity. The mission didn't matter. All his burdens were forgotten as he slid his hand through her hair and turned her face to meet his. “I have what you need.”

Her body trembled, but he kept his hand buried in her hair as he twisted one of her nipples between his fingers. She gasped and licked her lips. He released her hair. “Sit up,” he ordered.

She sat back on her haunches. He still gripped her breast and reveled in the way she arched toward his hand even as her body rose.

He knew what he wanted. “Strip me. Slowly.”

She fumbled with the button of his leather pants. The zipper slid down, and his cock sprang free. She stared at his length. It moved naturally toward her sweet lips. But she wasn't done. She gripped the edges of his trousers and slid them inch by inch down his thighs, her breath hot on his balls.

He bent down to give her access to his shirt buttons. She flicked them open, her face near his, and a charming blush traveled over her face. Discomfort, almost shyness. Apparently, sex she could do. Intimacy frightened her. Well, he knew that feeling.

When her hands brushed his shoulders to remove his shirt, his face rested in the valley of her breasts, and he inhaled. She smelled sweet, a heady flavor of sweat and woman.

He laid his mouth by her ear. “Suck my dick.” He straightened, his cock tantalizingly near her mouth where she knelt in front of him.

Her hands rested on his thighs, and he thrust his hands in her hair. Her tongue flicked out to stroke his cock. Then he was in her mouth, and her sweet cavern engulfed him with erotic suction that almost made him moan. He thrust deeper to the back of her throat and held her head to keep her from sliding her mouth over his length. He was barely hanging on. It stunned him. He was all about control, and this woman was testing it, straining it. How was that possible?

The feel of her lips over his sensitive ridges made his senses spin. But he remembered he had to finish the scene. He yanked her head back, and she moaned in protest, a sound that made precum leak from the fissure that only wanted one thing.

Her pussy.

Instead of giving in to that desire, he gripped her arm and pulled her to a bench in the corner. He placed her over his naked thighs, his cock pressing against her belly. She squirmed and glanced back over her shoulder. Lost in his own sensations, he almost missed the expression that skittered across her features. Fear and need combined to create a mask he recognized. Consciously, she feared his hand on her ass. Subconsciously, she craved it. He slid his fingers over the marks on her back, the ones Domini had put there. She shivered.

He removed his hand and met her gaze. “Say your word.”

She bit her lip, and he thrust two fingers into her now-weeping pussy. “You will trust me, or you won't. Speak.”

“I won't say it.”

He nodded once and removed his fingers. He raised his right hand to spank her ass. His left hand captured one of her breasts in a firm grip. He rolled her nipple, and his right hand descended. The sound echoed throughout the room, and her body jerked. He struck her again, right at the junction where her pussy lips protruded and begged for attention. He slid his fingers over her slit, his other hand still on her breast.

Her body arched and squirmed in his lap. His cock ached to sink into her slick channel, but he wanted her crazy, out of control. He spanked her again, the slap of his palm tingling with the force. She arched into his blows, and her cream made her pussy shine and glisten. She was close. God, she was so fucking hot. One more and he hoped she'd explode.

When his hand met the crack of her ass, she screamed, and he caught the stream of cum from her sweet release with his fingers. He licked them, the salty taste of her filling his mouth with need.

His cock was iron hard against her stomach. He wasn't going to last much longer. He wanted inside her now.

“
I have what you need
.”

Those words echoed through her mind over and over. This was not what she had thought it would be like. Rhea panted, trying to gather her thoughts, find her center, remember what the fuck she was doing in this room.

Domini had been brutal, but it wasn't the first time she'd dealt with that. She'd earned the scars on her back. She'd endured knowing, ultimately, she would choose Conner Mitchum.

But she hadn't counted on the feeling that he'd rescued her. He'd seen her, known the dark suit wasn't playing
with
her at all. And he'd come for her, finally. It hadn't felt like the victory she'd thought, but like destiny. Kneeling at his feet, she only thought, Thank you. Then his words had breathed through her soul.

“
I have what you need
.”

It was like he'd plucked her darkest fear and met it alongside her. She'd known, looking up at him, that he'd be on the journey with her, and it was going to be bitter and beautiful. What she hadn't counted on was her response to Conner. His touch, his smell, the feel of his cock in her mouth, the burn of his hand on her ass, all sent her spinning into another orbit. Her mind thought he was a mercenary bad boy responsible for the deaths of many. Her body didn't give a shit.

His hands were gentle as he lifted her off his lap and set her on the floor. She was now on all fours, and her orgasm still shattered through her, her skin tingling from his touch. He wasn't done. While she was still shuddering, he obtained a flogger from a bag on the floor. Oh Jesus, how did he know? It was her favorite kind, with knots on the ends of soft leather strands. It added a thudding sensation after the sting of the thin leather hit her skin. She shook and opened her mouth to say her safe word. But then she'd never have a chance. All this would be for nothing.

But what would be left of her?

No session had ever been like this—intense, sexually charged, and frightening. She felt the energy between the two of them surging. Something about Conner sucked her in. He was a talented Dom; that's all it was. It couldn't be anything else.

Her thoughts scattered as he struck her burning ass with the flogger. The blessed sting sent electricity straight to her pussy. She bit her lip to contain her cries. He kept up a rhythmic pattern that sent her body into overdrive. Oh God, she didn't know if she could hold back. Her hips thrust forward of their own volition. Her pussy throbbed, her breasts tingled, and her skin was on fire.

Harder and harder, he tested her. Her mind blanked, her soul emptied, pain and pleasure blending into a swirl of sensation. The edge no longer mattered as much as continuing to reach it. He kept her there, hanging near the precipice, never slipping over it.

Then the blows from the flogging stopped, and his hands clenched on her hips. His cock slammed into her, and her pussy contracted around him eagerly. God, he felt so good. She thrust back, only wanting him harder, deeper. He obliged her and slid in and out of her with hard blows that sent her flying over the edge.

She rode the crest of the wave, shouting, “Oh God, oh God!” What could be more than this? She was empty, and he filled her. She begged, he gave. She was alone, he was there.

And then he came inside her.

Like fireworks touched off by a match, his release sent her plummeting into another convulsion. His answering shout rang in her ears, and she squeezed him, wrung every last drop of magic from him.

For a few heartbeats, she reveled in the feel of his cock still buried deep within her. And then reality splashed over her like a cold shower.

What the fuck was wrong with her?

Icy now where she'd been warm, she kept her head lowered to hide her shame. And she was ashamed. To submit so willingly, so easily, to the man who—but that was what she'd planned.

She just hadn't planned to enjoy it.

The sexy computer voice filled the room. “Submissive One, choose.”

She was third. All she had to do was hope none of the others chose Conner. The dark-haired woman chose that bastard Domini. She could have him. The redhead chose the pretty blond. And now it was her turn.

“I choose Master Conner.”

“Choice noted,” the computer told her.

Her mind whirled. She'd finally succeeded. The computer noted the last woman's choice, and Rhea glanced at Conner. Was he wishing he'd chosen the brown-haired woman? Such an easy submissive wouldn't be his style.

The computer ended the session. “Next play session begins in two hours. Thank you.”

She managed to rise to her feet and retrieve her clothes quickly. She ignored the outstretched hand of her new Dom and stumbled toward the door. What she needed was time to think, time to regroup.

Because she had to remember she was there to kill him, not fuck him.

The hallway was cool on her naked skin compared to the hot playroom, and she practically ran to her room. Her lungs hurt, her pussy throbbed, her back burned. She wanted all of it all over again. What was wrong with her? She'd seen him play other women. She knew this was something he was good at doing.

She threw her clothes on a chair and hit the shower. The smell of him was everywhere. It clouded her mind, made her doubt. No, she'd never seen him kill anyone. No, she'd never seen him do anything all that bad. But she knew what he'd done. His selfishness—his greed—was the reason her family was dead.

Now she'd done what she set out to do. He'd chosen her. He wanted her as a submissive. All she had to do now was ask for a private coupling. Easy. Yet as the needles of water stung her sore back, she wondered if it would be.

Impatiently she dried herself off. She chose her clothes with care. Get it done, girl, she thought. She stabbed the Coupling button. She didn't want to wait anymore.

* * * *

The gentle beeping of notification caught Conner's attention. Well, well, someone was in a hurry. “Details,” he demanded.

A three-dimensional version of the woman who had chosen him earlier appeared. Nice. She had sweet curves and long legs. She'd showered, and her skin was pink, fresh. He liked blondes, and she had short but soft hair along with intense blue eyes. He had liked the feel of her hair when his hands had thrust through the strands. And she had a set to her jaw that told him many things. She was new to his way of playing, and she wasn't sure if she liked it.

He smiled. He'd make her like it.

Her cold stats matched the vision of the woman, but somehow she didn't resemble the submissive listed on her statistics. He knew an easy sub when he played one, and she hadn't been easy. A cold fist gripped his gut. Something made him apprehensive.

Part of him remembered he wasn't there to do any random fucking. He was there to get information. He shook off the feeling of unease. Why shouldn't he enjoy himself in the meantime? It wasn't the first time he'd missed his contact. But it would draw unnecessary attention to him if he refused this woman.

Accept the request for coupling, and he was in a contract with her. Good cover, but since he wasn't positive she was his source of information, also risky. But to refuse her was just as dangerous. What was he making the decision with? His cock or his brain? He wasn't sure. A very primal part of him wanted to claim her. He'd had a taste, and he wanted it all. But another part of him still had that uneasy feeling.

“Accept.” With that word, he became this woman's dominant. At least for the next forty-eight hours. It would give him time to find the Teran Five minister. He'd know soon enough if Honey Zenia was his contact.

His HITU beeped, and her questionnaire appeared on his screen. Either the
Star of Pleasure
was very good at matching him to the right submissive, or this woman had tailored her answers to suit him. If she had, she would be in for a surprise. He didn't always follow the rules.

With a firm finger, he pressed the Call button on his HITU. The screen flashed, and the woman answered. “Miss Zenia?”

“Yes?”

“Your session begins now. Strip, and be on your knees. I will be there soon. If you're not ready, I will punish you.”

Her gaze through the screen maintained a defiant gleam, her body trembled, the roll of muscle a dead giveaway to an experienced player. She wanted it, but it frightened her.

He clicked off. Patience was the name of this game. Now he had her name. She didn't look like a “Honey.” In fact, he wasn't going to call her that. He was going to strip her of everything. His other business could wait. For a moment, his hand hesitated over the handle of his small bag of goodies. Would he need it? He shrugged. He'd take it with him, just in case. He set the personal alarm on his room through his watch, still being ever cautious, ever watchful.