Sweet Persuasion (24 page)

Gently, he withdrew in a warm rush of semen. He helped her from the table to stand in front of him on wobbly legs. Fluid trickled down the back of her legs, but still she stood, waiting his command.

He looked down at her body in satisfaction, and she wondered how she looked to him, covered with other men’s fluids and Damon’s own trickling down the backs of her legs.

“Go get cleaned up,” he said softly. “And then return to me.”

 

 

 

When Serena returned a half hour later, the men were gone and Damon sat in the living room in his chair, the pallet she’d slept on the day before positioned at his feet.

She walked over without a word and knelt on the soft pillow. Damon’s hands found her head and guided it to his lap. She closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek against his leg as he gently stroked his hand through her hair.

“Turn around so I can brush your hair,” he said after several minutes of silence.

She complied and settled between his legs as he ran the brush through her long locks. A contented sigh escaped her as she let the pleasure of his attention settle like a warm haze.

For a long while she let the silence lay, reluctant to break it with her questions. When he tugged through her hair one last time and laid the brush aside, she turned to look at him.

She cocked her head to the side, unsure of how to voice her curiosity.

He touched her cheek, drawing a line from her temple to her jaw with his finger. “Ask your question, Serena mine. I can see it about to burst from your impatient lips.”

She smiled and leaned into this touch. “Why did you deviate from the fantasy?”

He paused, his finger stopping at the corner of her mouth. “Did it bother you that I didn’t want your mouth on their cocks or their cocks inside you?”

“No,” she admitted. “I don’t think I would have liked the fantasy as I envisioned it. I mean, in theory it seemed sexy; daring even. In reality, the idea of . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say that sucking the men’s cocks wasn’t as appealing in reality as it had seemed in the privacy of her fantasies.

“I am glad,” he said simply. “I tried to remain as true to your fantasy as I could, but you should know that I don’t share what I consider mine.”

She rubbed her cheek over his hand. “I’m glad,” she said honestly. “I thought . . . I thought I did, that it would be exciting.” She sighed as Damon cradled her face in his palm as he listened intently to her. “It sounded . . . I don’t know, like it could be arousing when Faith talked about it. Having more than one man focused on me or being forced to service the needs of more than one man.”

She took Damon’s hand between her own, brought it to her lips, her only need to have him close. “When it came down to it . . . this morning when I thought you’d command me to pleasure those men because it was something I had said I wanted . . . I was frightened. I didn’t want it. I only wanted you.”

Damon pulled his hands from her grip and urged her onto his lap. He cradled her close and tilted her chin up with one finger. “If there is something that ever frightens you, then you tell me at once. I won’t be a party to anything that scares you. As for other men, I’m glad that you have no desire for their attentions, because it’s something I won’t tolerate.”

She smiled. “You sound so possessive. I like it.”

He returned her smile, but his expression was serious. It sent a delighted shiver over her skin and made her heart twinge. No man had ever wanted her so fiercely.

The truth hit her with sudden wrenching force.

It was an elaborate charade. They were actors in a play. A script written by her. He played the part she asked him to. His lust might be real, but it was just sex.

“Why did the light just die in your eyes?” he murmured as he rubbed his thumb over her lips. “And why did your smile disappear?”

“Because I just remembered that none of this is real,” she said in a low voice.

Not a flicker betrayed his reaction to her statement. He continued to stare levelly at her, his eyes probing and assessing.

“Do you want it to be real, Serena?”

He left the question dangling in the air, much like a carrot in front of the proverbial donkey. Did she want it to be real? She swallowed, unsure of how to answer. How could she when she didn’t know the answer?

Yes, there was some regret that it was just an act because she liked the idea of being cherished by a man like Damon. But she didn’t want to be someone’s slave forever. The benefits, while alluring and arousing, would become tedious after a while, right?

“I don’t know,” she finally said when it became clear he was still waiting for her answer. “I can’t answer that.”

“And yet you have regret because this isn’t real,” he said.

She nodded.

“It’s as real as we make it, Serena mine. There is no one to judge but us.”

“I like that.” She leaned closer to him, her gaze seeking his. “Damon?”

He kissed her lips, one soft smooch. “Yes?”

“Can we forget about my fantasies? Could we instead play it by ear? I don’t want everything to be so . . . practiced. I want to know how it feels to truly belong to you for the time we have remaining.”

He kissed her again, his lips exploring hers with a gentleness that made her ache. He could be so demanding and yet so exquisitely tender in turns. She loved both parts.

“I think that’s an excellent idea, Serena mine. I have no desire to share you with another man. There are parts of your fantasies that excite me, boundaries that I’d like to push. You please me in ways I can’t even begin to describe. If you trust me to make your experience the best it can be, then we’ll go forward, you as my slave and I as your keeper.”

Unconsciously her hand went to the band on her arm, feeling its reassuring weight. His hand went to it as well, his finger tracing the outline of the jewelry.

“Do you like the mark of my ownership?”

She watched his fingers smooth over her arm and enjoyed the contrast between her pale skin and the glistening gold of the band. “I do. It’s less harsh than a collar. It’s feminine and yet there is power behind the symbol. I like looking at it and knowing it came from you. A collar just seems so . . . demeaning.”

“And the last thing I want is for you to feel shame,” he said.

“I’m hungry,” she said with a smile.

He blinked at the change in subject and then laughed softly. “So you must be. My demands have been great this morning and I’ve yet to feed you. I’m not proving to be a very good keeper, am I?”

She framed his face in her hands and lowered her head to his. Their lips met and melted together. It was she who controlled the kiss, and he let her have her way. When she pulled away, they were both breathing heavily, and his eyes shone with a heavy glaze.

“You’re the best,” she said simply. “I know I’ll never want for anything when I’m with you.”

He squeezed her to him and kissed the tip of her nose. “No, Serena mine. You’ll never lack for anything I can provide.”

CHAPTER 22

D
amon hadn’t told her where they were going, only that they were going out after a quiet dinner at home. He’d chosen her outfit, a filmy skirt and sleeveless silk top, and instructed her not to wear a bra or panties. Then he’d ushered her into his silver BMW and driven away from his house.

A half hour later when they pulled through the gate of The House, adrenaline slammed through her veins. She glanced over at Damon, but his expression was unreadable.

As if sensing her excitement and her nervousness, he reached over and captured her hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze as he pulled the car to a stop next to the other parked cars.

“You will stay by my side at all times. Men will seek your attention. They’ll speak to you and flirt. You’re to speak only to me and to anyone else only with my permission.”

Her eyes narrowed as she stared back at him. The order rankled, and she suddenly felt like a child being disciplined rather than an adult woman.

He waited as if expecting her to say no, but she snapped her lips together and averted her gaze. This was what she’d asked for. He was only giving her what she wanted.

Damon stepped out of the car and walked around to open her door. She put her hand in his and stepped gracefully from her seat.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he murmured as they started for the door.

She smiled, her earlier irritation forgotten. “No, but it’s nice to hear.”

“I’ll be the envy of every man here. Your hair shines like a veil of black silk.”

“You’re no stranger to pretty words,” she teased.

“The words are only pretty when applied to a beautiful woman. With no point of reference, they’re merely words.”

“I find myself unable to argue with your logic,” she said with a wide smile.

He ushered her inside where they were greeted by the butler. Damon directed her into a small dressing room just off the main entrance.

“Remove your clothing. The only things I want adorning you are my marks of possession.”

She inhaled in surprise but brought shaking fingers to the waistband of her skirt. Yes, she’d gone nude the night of the auction, but somehow this was different. She was well-versed in what would happen that night; after all, she’d created that fantasy. Tonight, though, she was working from a blank script, learning as she went. It was disconcerting.

“Would you like me to undress you?” Damon asked. “You’re shaking.”

She shook her head mutely.

His gaze sharpened. “Serena, are you frightened? We can go home. Just say the word.”

It hovered like a black cloud. She’d grown to fear that word and what it meant. It went deeper than denial for it was an end to a fantasy she was desperate to live. Not just any fantasy.
This
fantasy. With Damon.

She shoved the skirt over her hips, letting it fall in a pool at her feet. With quick, jerky movements, she pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it aside. A cool draft from the air-conditioning vent above blew lightly over her bare skin, and she shivered.

Damon fingered a lock of her hair, pulling it over her shoulder to let it fall over her breast. Her nipple, hard and puckered, peeked erotically from the strands.

He touched the nipple, lightly, with just his fingertip. A silken brush across the tip, but she jumped as though she’d been shocked.

“Remember your instructions,” he murmured and then turned to leave the room.

She followed him out and down the hall. They passed several smaller rooms where people mingled and enjoyed cocktails and conversation. She walked quickly so they didn’t have a chance to look up and see her.

Damon continued toward the stairs, and she remembered a similar walk just nights before when she’d followed her keeper to the large common room above.

Tonight that room looked nothing like it had the night of her auction. As they entered, she stared in surprise at the flurry of activity. Unlike the rooms downstairs where people were dressed modestly, the participants here were at various stages of dress, from elaborate erotic costumes to plain nudity and all shades in between.

Each section of the room hosted a different . . . fetish. It was the only word she could come up with, and she was sure she’d gotten it wrong.

Never before had she seen so much naked flesh and utter carnality outside of a porn movie. They probably wouldn’t appreciate the comparison, but that was her limit of experience in such matters.

“Would you like a tour?” Damon asked in a low voice. “No one here minds being observed.”

At least she wouldn’t be expected to participate. Damon had made his view on others touching her exceedingly clear. Armed with that knowledge, she nodded. Looking never hurt anyone.

The bombardment of erotic images hit her from all angles. There was a multitude of sexual scenarios, from a simple one-on-one couple fucking like bunnies to an outright orgy with no less than eight people joined like LEGOs. It all looked rather . . . bizarre.

The kink factor was high and there certainly wasn’t a shortage of shock value in the room, but it failed to fire Serena’s senses. All she could do was look with dumb confusion at the gyrating bodies and listen to the moans and cries.

And then Damon touched her. All it took was the soft brush of his fingers across her skin and arousal flared low in her groin. Her breasts tingled, heavy and aching, straining outward, seeking his attention.

“I am extremely gratified that only my touch excites you,” he said as he caressed one breast. Then he ran his palm over the other, plumping the supple flesh in his hand. The soft mound cupped in his hand, he brushed his thumb back and forth over the sensitive bud.

“Now come, my pleasure—and yours—awaits.”