MasterofSilk (5 page)

Isabella could barely keep her knees from buckling as she
swirled around the floor, the clamps tightening around her nipples and clit
with every move she made. Already she was close to climax as the physical
sensation, combined with the dangerous set of Zayne’s jaw, aroused in her an
ancient longing. To let him rule her—to be his slave.

His cock jutted high against his stomach, the dusky rod so
engorged and hard she knew his need was a match for hers, and it made her own
torment easier when she concentrated on her master’s pleasure. She straddled
him on the chair, rolling her torso against his erection, stroking him with
every undulation. When she saw the bead of moisture at its tip she reached down
and smoothed it along the shaft, thrilled when he shifted in his chair, his
hips pumping along with her hand.

Until he growled and snatched her fingers free. “I did not
give you permission to touch me. That makes four.” His tone promised
retaliation. “Now you will go and kneel by the bed to await my pleasure.”

But before she turned away he made certain she saw him grab
the paddle from his chair, a polished piece of ebony, its handle carved to
resemble a phallus.

Isabella had to squeeze her legs together to keep from
melting into an orgasm as she imagined Zayne sliding that smooth piece of wood
inside her, preparing her for the coming invasion of his own mass of flesh. To
her dismay she found she could not move, her legs turned traitor at last, until
he snapped the paddle on his palm and she jerked to obey.

“Do you remember your safeword?” She nodded as she fell to
her knees by the bed. Then Zayne lifted her and pushed her facedown across the
mattress, securing each hand to one of the iron canopy posts. “Now you will
spread your legs for me.”

Isabella was torn between desire and panic as she did as he
commanded. With her hands tied, her legs spread and her ass bared for whatever
he intended she felt too exposed and far too vulnerable. “Please touch me,” she
whimpered as he settled on the bed beside her.

“Where, my lovely?”

“Anywhere…everywhere.”

“Here?” She cried out when the paddle smacked against her
ass hard enough to make her jerk against her bonds. “Or here?” he asked softly,
bringing the paddle down on the other side.

She would not beg, she swore to herself, she would not give
him the satisfaction. She had the safeword if she needed an escape, but until
then he wouldn’t hear her plead for another single thing.

To keep from crying out again Isabella buried her face in
the sheet, rubbing her breasts against the bed, hoping to ease some of the
sting from her overly engorged nipples. But Zayne grabbed her hair and pulled
her up, whipping the paddle down again…and again.

And to her shame Isabella loved every bite of the wood, pain
and pleasure mingling into a want so strong she could barely keep from
screaming her need.

And still he refused to touch her, to give her any hope of a
quick release.

Until she felt him kneel behind her and trail the paddle up
the inside of one thigh.

“I can smell you,” he whispered, holding her down with a
hand on her back. “Smell how much you want me to take you.”

“Yes. Oh dear God, yes, I want you to take me! Please,
Zayne, please I—” She broke off with a shriek of pleasure as he slid the handle
of the paddle along her cunt. When it grazed her clit he pressed harder,
swirling it over the hard nub of flesh in its torturous clamp until she began
to tremble.

But it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. She had to feel him
thrust inside her, the mass of his cock buried in her cunt, their bodies joined
as they climaxed together. Not that Zayne showed any sign of her punishment coming
to an end so quickly.

He jostled the chain, the clamps tightening enough to make
her squeal again as he moved the handle of the paddle between the cheeks of her
ass until it was circling the tiny opening there. “I have never taken a woman
here,” he mused, removing the paddle. “But I have watched it done on numerous
occasions.”

Isabella shook as he slicked a finger along her slit,
getting it wet before sliding it back to her ass once more. A wealth of new
sensations burgeoned in her body as she thought of this new and unexplored
territory. She actually wanted him to touch her there!

The doctor in her whispered there was no physical reason to
refuse—anal play had been around forever and posed no health threat to the
body. It was just something she’d never considered might be pleasurable…until
now. And with his finger poised to slip through the tight ring of muscle she
found herself more than willing to comply, even spreading her legs wider to
give him better access.

Zayne stilled when he felt the movement. “Has another man
claimed you here?” he demanded, his voice as bleak as a winter storm.

“No,” she whispered, hanging her head. “No man has ever…you
know…”

“Fucked your lovely ass?” He moved his hand down to circle
her clit, thrumming over the pearl of flesh until Isabella bit her lip to keep
from crying out his name. She heard him growl as she began to shake and the
paddle came down on the outside of her thigh.

“Not yet.”

She heard a rustle as he put on a condom and this time she
did cry out when he dug his cock between her legs and buried it to the hilt. It
felt so good to have the length of him inside her, driving in and out, each
thrust moving the clamp on her clit, her nipples scraping over the bed,
sensation after sensation beating her toward the edge, the orgasm building so
quickly she almost forgot about their earlier conversation, until he pressed
his finger into her ass, pushing past the clench of muscle that tried to stop
the sting of the invasion. Isabella arced from the bed and tried wiggle away,
but Zayne wrapped one hand over her shoulder, keeping her from escape as he
buried his finger into her ass.

“Stop…please, oh God, I can’t…I can’t,” she begged as Zayne
held her down, his cock slamming hard into her cunt as his finger twisted deep
into her ass.

“You have a safeword,” he gritted out, sliding his finger
free. “Use it if necessary.” This time he took her ass with two fingers,
working them into the tiny opening, the pain bringing a sudden rush of tears to
her eyes.

But she liked it, she realized in shock, liked the way he
tortured her ass, the same way she’d liked the sting of the paddle. It was
beyond intense to have him fill her this way, beyond anything she’d experienced
with a man before, and she was willing to give him anything he demanded as he
brought her to the edge of the cliff, holding her there for long moments as she
pleaded and moaned and swore she could not take another second of the agony…

His breath grew as ragged as her own, his thrusts moving faster
and deeper as he finally relented and let her come. Her body jerked as she found
her release, her sex fisting around his cock until with a groan he ground his
hips against hers and climaxed with a rush of sweat and seed.

Then he untied her hands and removed the clamps before he
spread out beside her on the bed, his fingers smoothing through her hair,
appraising her through half-closed eyes.

“You are remarkable,” he said, thrilling her to the core. “I
have never had a woman respond to me the way you do. Thank you.” He took her
hand and brought it to his lips, brushing his mouth softly over her knuckles. “But
if you will excuse me a moment…” He stood and made his way to the bathroom,
shutting the door behind him.

With a sigh born more of disappointment than ire Isabella
rose and straightened her clothes, wrapping the cloak around her as she opened
the door to find his meal already waiting. Hurriedly, before he could return,
she sat the food on the table and took off her mask, placing it carefully upon
the bed before she ducked down the hallway and out a back entrance.

She wanted more, she unwillingly admitted. Despite her
carefully constructed plans she had grown much too fond of her desert lover.
She found herself wanting to ask about his day, what he’d eaten for lunch and
dinner, had he been careful with his diet, taken his insulin in the proper dose
and on time.

She’d wanted to stay with him tonight while he ate, share
even the most trivial conversation…make love again after they’d rested. Sleep
beside him and wake up in his arms.

Normal things couples did together—even though they weren’t
a couple now and never would be in the future.

You have only yourself to blame
, she scoffed in a
scathing tone she reserved only for herself.
You knew better than to get
involved.

So it was time to get uninvolved before she fell so far she
could never pick herself back up.

Ignoring the way her heart began cracking she started her
car and headed for home. She was on call tomorrow and needed what little sleep
she could get.

* * * * *

Feeling lightheaded, Zayne had headed to the bathroom,
realizing he had overestimated how physically active he would be that night and
his blood sugar had dropped too low. He’d been gone only a couple of minutes
but his lovely Silk had fled quickly, leaving him facing a tray of food meant
for two, eating alone in the dimness of the room.

He’d wanted her to stay even if she continued to wear the
mask—which was getting to be more of a nuisance than he’d ever imagined. If he
thought she would ever forgive him he would rip the cursed thing to shreds and
make love to her face-to-face so he could see her every expression as he took
her again until she screamed in his arms.

But they could have a conversation, he realized with a jolt
as he bit into the thick turkey sandwich. He ate quickly, washing the food down
with icy-cold water before retrieving his cell phone and dialing Dr. Seda’s
number. He popped a dried fig into his mouth as he waited for her to answer,
enjoying the decadent sweetness on his tongue.

“Dr. Seda,” he said, pleased to hear the flutter in her
voice when she answered. “I hope I did not call too late or interrupt anything
of importance.” He listened to the sharp intake of her breath as she tried to
get her thoughts in order. Her voice was still husky with the pleasure they’d
shared when she finally managed an answer.

“N-no, Za—uh, Mr. Saladar. What can I do for you tonight?”

Suck me until I tell you to stop.
“I was just
wondering if you planned to come’—he paused for sinful effect—”to the
fundraiser next week. I do not recall receiving a response to my invitation.”

“I am sorry. I haven’t checked my schedule. I am on call
some weekends and would hate to run out in the middle of the affair.”

“I assure you I would not take offense.” He sat back in his
chair and spread his legs, the scent of her rising like honey from his skin.

“Can I let you know later this week?” He heard her sigh, a
lonely sound that hung on the line between them.

“Is everything all right, Doctor?” Zayne sat up straighter,
listening for any emotion that might give her thoughts away. She should be
basking in the glow of their lovemaking, not sounding as though she had been
abandoned. After all, she was the one who’d left his room. He had not demanded
it or even given her permission. Then again one could never be certain where a
woman’s emotions were concerned.

“Yes, yes of course.”

He could practically see her squaring her shoulders, putting
on her bravest face. But he knew she was hurt and it made him angry she was
keeping secrets, locking herself away. Then he realized he had done nothing to
garner the real Isabella Seda’s trust. A thing he would change in the days
ahead.

“I will call you by the end of the week,” she said at last.

“I look forward to it.” He was frowning when she clicked off
the line. His lovely doctor needed attention and he vowed to do whatever it
took to make her practical side want him just as much as her sensual side
already did.

And it was nearing time to rip off the veil between them. As
he dressed Zayne came up with a plan he thought would fit his needs perfectly.
By the time his driver dropped him back at home for the night the check had
been written and the letters sealed, ready to be delivered.

* * * * *

The next week was a nightmare in logistics. Not only was
Isabella on call that weekend, one of the other doctors on rotation had gotten
sick and she’d volunteered to take over his shifts during the week. It had
gotten crazy busy when the flu descended on Charleston like a plague.

Zayne had called her several times, trying to find a time
she could meet him for lunch or dinner and discuss the next phase of the
Saladar Center’s development. She’d been forced to cancel every meal and she
knew he was getting frustrated when she’d done nothing but text him in reply.

The truth was she had finally made up her mind their
relationship could not continue—in either manner—and she needed time to get her
emotions packed into order before she got the courage to tell him she was
determined to pass him off to another doctor.

Plus she’d canceled all her dance performances at the Oasis,
knowing she would be at the hospital several of the nights—but most importantly,
knowing she couldn’t face Zayne there either.

To her added stress he had sent Silk several messages at the
restaurant and Shamal was in a near-panic that she had not shown up to claim
the letters he had left. Finally she popped her head in at closing Thursday
night, wrapping her face in a scarf and scuttling in and out of the place,
barely saying a word to anyone.

A glance in the mirror as she stripped down for a shower
near midnight confirmed her worst fears. She looked terrible. Dark circles
rimmed her eyes and her hair was so neglected it would take an entire team of
stylists to fight it back in place.

She still hadn’t opened Zayne’s letters. They stared at her
in accusation as she crawled beneath her sheets, ogling her from their perch on
the dresser until she was forced to get back up and tear the damned things
open.