Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender (32 page)

I’m tempted to give him a flippant answer, but he was honest with me. I have to be honest with him. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in a virgin.”

“I’m interested in you. Your sexual expertise isn’t a factor.” He tightens his hold on me. “Though I would have done a few things differently had I known.”

“Like what?” I don’t know what those things might be.

“I would have prepared your tight little pussy with my tongue, fingers, toys. Ensured you could take my cock with no pain. Our first fuck would have been enjoyable for both of us.”

“Oh, God.” My shoulders hunch. “You didn’t enjoy it?”

“I was referring to your lack of enjoyment.” He shifts me so he can see my face, his cock slipping from my pussy. “I came so hard, I saw stars.”

I pleased him. I hear this in his tone, view this in his eyes. Giddy with relief, I glance upward at the sky. “I see stars right now.”

Logan chuckles, the sound reaching deep inside me and coiling around my lonely heart. “Tomorrow, when we fuck, you’ll see stars again.”

He talks as though we have a tomorrow, a future together. I don’t know how a relationship between us is possible. My father hates Logan, barely tolerating his presence, and my position in the family is already precarious.

If my unbending parent finds out I fucked the enemy, that I acted like my mom, I’ll lose everything—my family, my job, my place in the world.

I can’t be foolish, can’t risk more than this one night with Logan.

Chapter Three

Logan dons his tuxedo jacket, his bowtie stuffed in his pants pockets. I stand, pulling up the bodice of my dress. The fabric brushes against my sensitive nipples and I shudder. “How long does the nipple clamp magic work?”

“It depends on the type of clamp, the length of time applied, the woman.” He zips the back of my dress, his heat and scent surrounding me. “You’re very responsive.” He skims his fingertips over my cheekbone, along my jaw, following the slender column of my neck, and I tremble, his rough hands leaving a trail of bliss on my skin.

“Am I?” I murmur, enthralled by his touch.

Logan turns me to face him, his eyes dark. “You are.” He smoothes my eyebrows with his thumbs, caring for me as no one has ever done. “I should have known you weren’t experienced.” His lips twist. “I arrogantly thought you were reacting to my touch.”

“I was. You’re the only man who has ever tempted me.” I drop my gaze to his pointed chin, gripped with a sudden shyness. “Everyone expects me to be like my mom and I was hellbent on proving them wrong, on being the good girl, worthy of the St. James name.”

“So you suppressed your desires.” Logan brushes a stray strand of hair away from my face. “Waited until you couldn’t wait any longer.”

“I waited until I met a man I could trust completely.” I lift my gaze to his. “A man worth risking everything for.”

His eyes flare with emotion. “What are you risking, Arianna?”

“My father would disown me.”

“Because he views me as his enemy.” My billionaire’s tone is dry.

“He does hate you.” I shrug, uncomfortable with this discussion. “He’ll see our relationship as a betrayal, but he’s also told me, if he ever received proof that I had sex with anyone, he’d cut me off.”

I was fifteen when he laid down that ultimatum. Cindra had tattled on me, telling my father that a boy at school had kissed me. My father said no daughter of his would ever become a slut like my mom, threatening to toss me out on the street.

Logan frowns. “He couldn’t have been serious.”

“My father doesn’t make jokes.” And my half-siblings would insist he kept his word. “No one can know about tonight.”

“No one will know about tonight.” My billionaire clasps my right hand, raises my fingers to his lips. “Or our future nights.” He kisses my fingertips one by one, index finger to pinkie. “I’ll be careful with you, keep you safe.”

I want to believe him, to believe we might have a tomorrow. “You’re assuming there will be future nights.”

“We will have more nights together.” He links our fingers. “That’s a certainty.” He guides me through the dimly lit gardens, his stride shortened to match mine. “The only question is when.”

I gaze up at the stars, not knowing where we are, trusting him to lead me. “Who answers that question?”

We reach a wall. Logan feels along the gray stone, finds a door handle hidden in the shadows and opens a narrow metal gate. “You answer that question.”

We step through the exit and bright lights temporary blind me. I blink, my vision adjusting. A limousine idles in a side alley, the scarred man standing by the passenger door.

“You could decide to spend tomorrow night with me. Or, I could pursue you for another seven months and five days.” He ushers me into the vehicle. “It’s your choice.”

I lower my ass to the soft leather cushion and he claims the seat beside me. He’s giving me control, allowing me to decide on how quickly or how slowly our relationship progresses. The door shuts. It’s my choice.

The floor vibrates under my shoes. We’re moving. Logan drapes his arm along the seat back behind my head and presses his thigh against mine, presence, power, heat and strength rolling off his muscular form.

I think about his words. “If I reject you, you won’t pursue me for another seven months and five days.” He’s never lied to me, but this is too incredible to be believed. “You’ve had me once already. You’ll move onto someone new.”

“There is no one else for me.” He pulls me onto his lap. “You’re mine, Arianna, and I will pursue you until I breathe my last breath.”

“Truly?” I study him, looking for lies, seeing none.

“Truly.” He nods gravely. “During the day, I’ll tempt you with slow dances, wicked words, furtive touches. At night, I’ll climb into my empty bed and dream of you, of your tight hot pussy around my hard cock, my diamonds covering your nipples, your soft voice in my ear. In the morning, I’ll fuck myself with my fists, bellowing your name as I come.”

Oh my God. I stare at him.

The corners of his lips lift. “You’re wet for me, aren’t you, pet?”

“Yes, sir,” I whisper, unable to lie.

Logan repositions my body until I face forward, my back resting against his chest, my ass cradled in his lap. “Lift your skirt, open your thighs, and show me,” he commands.

I glance toward the front of the vehicle. The partition is lowered. The driver could see me.

“You don’t want me to ask again.” The warning in Logan’s voice makes me shiver.

I slowly pull the hem of my skirt to my waist, revealing my knees, thighs, cleanly-shaven mons. My ivory skin contrasts vividly against the black fabric of my dress, shining like a beacon in the dimly lit limousine.

I spread my legs, hooking them over Logan’s bent knees. He slides his feet outward, exposing me even more. The driver, if he looks behind him, will see the drops of moisture glistening on my pussy lips.

“You’ll stay like this for the rest of the trip,” Logan instructs. “And you won’t come, not until I give you permission. Your pleasure belongs to me, tonight, tomorrow, seven months and five days from now. Do you understand?”

I swallow hard. “Yes, sir.”

“If you touch yourself, I’ll be very disappointed.” He places my fidgeting hands on my legs and covers them with his rough palms. “If another man touches you, I’ll financially destroy him.”

“I understand, sir.” I’ve heard the rumors, seen how competent business leaders scurry around my billionaire investor, babbling and sweating and acting scared out of their wits. I know he can deliver on his vow.

We sit in sexually-infused silence. Every couple of minutes, Logan reaches between my legs and strums my intimate folds, brushing my clit, keeping me in a constant state of arousal, teaching me a lesson I won’t ever forget. He controls me, my anguish and my bliss.

Determined to survive this sweet torture, to earn his approval, I play mind games with myself, counting backward, reciting financial ratios, seeking to distract myself.

But every time I find an effective way to deal with his erotic assault, he changes his technique, the damn man throwing me off balance. My brain melts. My willpower wanes. I start to shake, my pussy juices dripping on the seat, my musk scenting the air.

“You didn’t ask where we’re going, pet.”

It’s a struggle to concentrate on this comment. I want him so much. “I trust you, sir.” Sexual strain stretches my words, raising my pitch.

“We’re returning to my home.” My billionaire master acts as though carrying on a conversation with a half-naked woman sitting in his lap is a normal occurrence for him. “The house is secure, my people can be trusted, and I want your scent on my sheets, your pretty blonde hair spread over my pillows. Do you have any concerns about this plan?”

I force myself to picture his home in my mind, to ignore my need. Logan owns a sprawling mansion in one of most private and exclusive neighborhoods in Toronto. Iron gates surround the gorgeous European style structure, securing the grounds. Tall maple trees block the views of curious passersby.

It’s a sanctuary in the city and very few people have seen inside it. Excitement shimmers over me, adding to my arousal. In a few minutes, I will be one of these people…if I’m worthy. Desire rages through my body and I grit my teeth.

“Answer me, pet.”

Oh, God. His deep sexy baritone nudges me closer to release. “I have no concerns, sir.” I push the words past my trembling lips.

“You’re a good girl.” His reassuring rumble delights me. I’d smile but I’m scared that slight movement will push me over the edge. “You deserve a reward for trusting your master.”

“Sir?” If that reward is more pleasure, I’ll cry.

“You’re in a bad way, aren’t you, pet?” The sadistic bastard chuckles. “You did so well.” He scoops me out of his lap, handling me as though I weigh nothing, and he places me gently on the soft leather seat beside him. “Once my tongue touches your sweet pussy, you can come.”

“Thank you, sir.” I spread my thighs, desperate for release, my body shaking painfully.

My billionaire master cups my ass, his firm grip lending me some of his restraint, and he lifts my pussy higher, gazing at me. “You’re ready for my touch.”

He licks me with the flat of his tongue, and I buck upward, screaming, coming hard, splintered apart by the exquisite stimulation. Colors explode in my brain, bliss rushing over me, curling my fingers and my toes.

Logan draws back and watches me as I twist and turn in his big hands, shameless in my desire, unable to control my responses, the pleasure too acute to manage. I don’t know how long I gyrate, caught up in my release.

I return to Earth, falling, falling, falling. He bends over and licks me again, from ass to clit. I jerk, sensitive to his touch, an after-tremor rocking me.

Logan smacks his lips, his eyes gleaming. “My pet is delicious.”

He likes my taste. I smile dreamily up at him, floating on a happy cloud.

“That’s one, pet.”

One? My eyes widen. “There’s more, sir?”

“Much more.” My new master chuckles. “I’ve only just begun.” He lifts my ass once more. “Such a pretty pussy.” He peruses this private part of me. “If you’re very good, I’ll decorate your clit with diamonds.” He’ll design a clit clamp for me. My body twitches as I imagine that pain, and he smiles knowingly. “You’re perfect for me, Arianna. Don’t ever doubt this.”

He lowers his head and applies himself to his self-appointed task, euphoria reflected in his tanned countenance. Another man might have used me like the slut everyone thinks I am, taking my body with no concern for my pleasure. Logan pays homage to my feminine form, his touch tender and his mouth hot. I gaze at him with wonder and lust as he nibbles and nips at my pussy, adoring me with his lips.

He’s in no rush to end my torment, peeling me apart slowly, leisurely gliding his tongue over each fold, chasing every drop, and I moan, wiggling with delight, the need inside me spiraling skyward.

My billionaire master circles my clit with the tip of his tongue, pushing back the concealing skin. I follow the movement with my hips, passion winding around me tighter and tighter and tighter until I whimper, his light touch unable to push me over the edge. I need something more.

Logan’s gaze meets mine. He knows what I require. I beseech him with my eyes.

He flings one arm across my body, strapping me to the seat. This restraint excites me. I can’t move, can’t escape him. He fastens his firm lips over my clit and looks upward. Oh my God. I hold my breath, reading his intent. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t. I’ll die. He’ll slay me dead.

His eyes glimmer. Logan inhales deeply, sucking my clit into his hot mouth. The pressure is too intense to survive. Shards of color explode in my mind. I scream, reaching for him, my spine bowing. My fingers sink into my billionaire’s hair, and I hold him to me, riding his face, while he sucks me dry, plunging his tongue into my tender pussy.

Ripples of warmth roll over me, cresting into a crescendo, then easing into a low hum. Energy seeps from my arms and legs. I release his hair, sag against the limousine seat, drained and barely conscious.

Logan straightens, his cheeks splattered with specks of moisture, his lips glistening with my juices. “You’re a delight, pet.” He lowers my skirt, covering me once more. “You’re a joy to watch.” He draws me into his arms, his body heat and distinctive scent engulfing me. “I’m never letting you go.”

“Don’t want you to let me go,” I mumble into his chest, my eyelids heavy, my mind fractured. “But please tell me there isn’t more.”

He chuckles. “We’ll stop for now.” He presses his lips against my forehead. “Sleep, Arianna. I’ll take care of you.”

I can’t sleep. My eyes close. I don’t want to waste one minute of this night. But I’m so fuckin’ weary, and when the blackness reaches for me, I don’t have the strength to escape its clutches. I allow it to part me from my billionaire, perhaps forever.

* * *

A band of heat encircles my waist. Seductive warmth curls along my bare shoulders, spine, ass, infusing me with a sense of safety, caring, love. I smile dreamily, stretching my arms and legs. The warmth moves with me, soothing my aching body. It’s a good soreness, the feeling one earns after a hard workout.

I open my eyes and blink. Beams of sunlight stream across the foot of a massive bed, highlighting the carvings on the red cherry wood posts. A stunningly beautiful painting hangs on one of the sage green walls, the subject, a pair of pale feminine hands bound in red ribbon.

Bound. Oh shit. I’m in my billionaire’s dungeon.

I try to sit up and am unable to move, a muscular right arm pinning me to the ivory sheets. “It’s morning.” I struggle to free myself, my voice loud in the otherwise silent room. “People will see me return to my apartment, Logan. They’ll know.” My father will have proof. He’ll disown me.