The Drake Restrained Compete Collection: Part 1 - 4 (The Drake Series Book 7) (23 page)

"There you two are!" he said and made his way to the back of the box. "I'm so glad Drake went to find you, Katherine. Did he help you calm down a bit? I know that song always gets to you."

"I'm fine," she said quietly.

I almost laughed out loud at that.
No, I didn’t calm her down. I made her wet and swollen and breathless.

"Good good." Ethan rubbed his hands together. "Now, weren't you two going out for dinner? The Russian Tea Room, wasn't it, Drake?"

He glanced from me to Kate and back.

"That's right," I said and turned to Kate, catching her eye despite her attempt to avoid me. "We have reservations for two in about ten minutes. I could really
eat
something right now."

I smiled, enjoying the small expression of shock that my words elicited. It would focus her mind on me eating her rather than food and that was the desired effect.

She removed my jacket from around her shoulders and handed it to me. I slipped it on, enjoying the way her perfume clung to the collar. Then, I took her coat from the hanger and helped her with it, standing close, breathing in the scent of her hair, now loosened from its clip.

I had no real interest in eating anything besides her but I had to go through with the seduction. Feeding her my favorite food, getting a bit of vodka into her, and forcing her to talk about her desires would be necessary if I was going to feel that swollen nub beneath my tongue.

I was determined I would feel it before the night was out. I licked my fingers once more, imagining it as we left the hall.  

CHAPTER FIVE

We drove in silence to the Russian Tea Room.

My silence was deliberate. I didn’t say anything in an attempt to keep Kate off center and make her uncomfortable. She would feel slightly out of control, and I would then take control so that she felt my dominance. It would show her what it felt like to be with a real Dom.

At least, that was my plan.

"You're not going to talk to me?"

"I'm too busy recovering from our little kiss."

"Little?"

I smiled at her and she turned away.

"For me it was little," I said. "Maybe for you it wasn't. I don't usually kiss a woman unless I'm in scene and I'm fucking her, so for me, that was nothing."

"If it was nothing, why are you still recovering?"

I grinned at that. "Touché. But as I said, I don't usually kiss a woman unless we're fucking, so I'm still a bit uncomfortable. How about you?"

She crossed her arms and looked out the window, avoiding my gaze. "Never better."

"Good. I
knew
you needed some attention," I said, enjoying this little dance between us.

"Do you ever take things seriously?"

I laughed at that. "Oh, I assure you, Ms. Bennet, that I take some things
very
seriously. Sex, for instance."

There. Let that sink in. Sex wasn’t just something I did, like eat or sleep. It was a passion. Something I did with the same deliberateness that I applied to my music or surgery.

Since I became a Dom, I thought a great deal about sex – what women want and what they need, especially women like Kate – the kind of woman I wanted. Smart. Well-bred. Professional. With a mind of her own but at the same time, eager to be taken by someone who knew what he was doing. Who knew how to please her and how to get right into her mind and give her what she needed.

I wanted her to have no doubt that I could and would please her, make her come again and again until she was spent and in a blissed-out state.

She said nothing more as we drove through the Manhattan streets towards the restaurant. I didn’t try to make conversation, preferring instead for her to spend the time thinking of what I had said.

Imagining it. 

I found a parking spot a block away and walked with Kate, my arm around her protectively. She was still silent, as if waiting to see what I would do, letting me control things.

The hostess greeted us and took us to my table, which I had reserved earlier in the week. I asked to be seated at a curved banquette so I could sit close beside Kate. I wanted her to feel the warmth of my body. I wanted to put my arm around her on the back of the seat. I wanted to be close enough to smell her hair and perfume. I wanted to be able to feed her, because nothing says I have control more than feeding a person.

"I love these tables," I said as she slid into the booth. "If you were already my submissive, I'd have made you wear garters and black fishnet nylons instead of pantyhose. With no underwear on, I'd be able to sit real close and have my way with your pussy while we ate. Your mind would be occupied with what else I was going to eat when we were finally alone."

She glanced at me, her cheeks flushing. When the waitress arrived to take our drink order, I ordered some blini with caviar to start and a shot of Anisovaya for us both.

The waitress was new. I didn’t recognize her so she didn’t know my preferences.

"I'm sorry, but we don’t have Anisovaya on the menu."

"Tell the bartender that Dr. Morgan is here. He keeps some especially for me."

The waitress nodded. "Certainly."

Kate turned to me, her mouth open. "You drink Anisovaya?"

"Yes," I said and folded my hands on the crisp white linen of the tablecloth. "I love Russian vodka, especially infused with anise."

She said nothing for a moment, and merely stared at her hands, which were folded primly on her lap. "
You
wrote those letters."

I frowned, realizing what had happened. Lara must have sent Kate the link and password to my letters to my subs. I posted them online on a password protected site as a resource for new subs, so they could get a glimpse into the mind of a Dom.

 "I take it that Lara gave you the link and password."

She nodded but didn’t speak, as if she wasn’t sure of her voice.

"You weren't supposed to read those," I said, feeling a bit exposed. "They're for my subs to read after we sign contracts so they know what to expect. I feel somewhat at a disadvantage because usually I know what my subs like before they know what I like."

"You read my profile on FetLife," Kate said, her voice soft.

"Yes, but I want the narrative, not just a list. I want your fantasies so I can fulfill them. Most couples are too afraid to be honest about fantasies, sexual kinks, Kate. The great thing about a relationship like we'll have," I said, leaning closer, "is that you can be totally honest with me. I won't be offended or shocked or jealous or worried about them the way a normal boyfriend would. I'm only here for the sex so I want to make it incredibly good and rewarding. There'll be none of those messy emotions to get in the way of pure pleasure."

Just then, the cocktail waitress arrived with the caviar and vodka, placing them in front of me. Good. I needed to get a few shots of vodka into Kate so she’d relax a bit. I was going to be brutally honest and I wanted her lips a bit looser, so she’d open up as well.

"How can you keep emotions out of a relationship? They're bound to leak in."

"Not if you don't let them," I said, trying to sound certain. "I won't let them. Now, down it fast," I said, pointing to the shot of vodka. "The Anisovaya goes down smoothly."

"I shouldn't drink.” She bit her lip as if afraid that she’d become too pliant and say something she would regret. That’s exactly what I wanted.

"Oh, you most
definitely
should. I want you to loosen up a bit, Kate. Enjoy yourself. Relax. We need to talk and I want you to be completely honest with me. For a change. Here." I pointed to the shot. "Pick it up and we'll do it at the same time."

She did, but I could tell she was still reluctant. Her hand shook a bit when she picked up the shot glass.

"
Za vas,
" I said in Russian. "To you."

"
Za vas
," she replied and together, we shot back the vodka. She made a face but licked her lips.

"
Vashee zda-ró-vye!
" I said. "To your health."

She smiled just a bit, which gave me hope. I smeared some sour cream on a blini and added caviar, then added a few bits  of red onion.

"Here." I held it up for her, waiting for her to open her mouth. "You never drink vodka without eating."

"I don't
know
…"

I made a face of disbelief. "A rich kid like you never had caviar?"

"I had a huge aquarium when I was a kid and bred guppies. I could never get used to the idea of eating fish eggs."

I laughed at that but pushed the blini closer. "Trust me, Kate. This is so
good
. You'll love it."

Finally, she gave in and opened her mouth. After chewing for a moment, she smiled. "It's good. I didn't think I'd like it."

"Like I said, you have to trust me. I know what's good. The more I know you, the more intimate we are, the more you can just let go and I'll lead the way."

"You're so sure of yourself," she said and opened the menu. "What's good to eat?"

"I'll order my favorites," I said, wanting to maintain control over everything. "Can you trust me?"

She nodded. "Russians don't eat eyeballs do they?"

I smiled to myself. She was such a reticent woman. I wondered how she managed to go to Africa and stay in the camps. Her desire to please her father must have been incredibly strong to overcome it.

"No, at least, none that I know."

I ate the rest of the blini and then fixed us another, which we shared as well. She allowed me to feed her without any fuss and it pleased me, for it was another show of her willingness for me to take the lead, take control. She seemed to enjoy it, and I could sense her relaxing beside me, her body no longer tight and tense.

When the waiter arrived, I ordered for us in Russian, requesting my favorite dishes, including the stuffed dumplings, crepes with white truffle, and to start, the famous Tea Room borscht.

When we were alone again, I moved closer to her, my arm on the back of the seat behind her.

"So, Kate. You read my letters. How did they make you feel?"

She shrank a bit at that, as if her own response embarrassed her. "I don't know what to think..."

"Don't tell me what you
think
,” I said, wanting to know how the letters affected her emotions. “Tell me how you
felt
."

She held back. If she was interested at all in Dominance and submission, she should have responded to the letters in a visceral way.

"You're a good writer."

I laughed to myself. "You are so
stubborn
. Look, Kate, this couldn’t be easier," I said, moving a little closer. "Your father wants us to be together. We can meet, talk and I can take you out to functions as much as we want, we can do as much as
you
want, explore as much as you want, without having to hide our relationship. No one has to know
why
we're together. They'll all assume they know why, thinking it's because we've
fallen in love
. It's great cover."

Her back stiffened. "I haven't agreed to become your sub."

"No, you haven't," I said and traced a pattern on the back of her hand, wanting any excuse to touch her. "I hope to convince you to sign a modified agreement. I'm going to be honest with you, Kate." I caught her eye, refusing to let her avoid me any longer. "I want you. There's nothing I love more than initiating and training a new submissive. I think I can satisfy your needs. In fact, I think this is perfect for us both."

She actually blushed and blinked rapidly. It was so sweet and such a telling response to my very frank words.

"And if I said I just want to write a research paper and interview you? Nothing more?" she said, her voice a little fearful.

"You didn't
feel
like you only wanted to write a research paper earlier. You were nice and wet and for a moment, you kissed me back."

"I was overly emotional,” she said and I could see her muster her strength again. “You caught me at a vulnerable moment."

Exactly
. That’s when someone was less able to hide his or her true emotions. Which was why I wanted to put her off her game, let her guard down.

 "When you're vulnerable, your true feelings come out. It's when you're feeling strong that you're able to hide them. Look, Kate," I said and took her chin in my hand. "There's something between us. I felt it. You felt it. Pure sexual attraction. You want to try submission – I
know
you do. You want to try it with
me
. Why fight it?"

I let go of her chin and she glanced away unable to hold my gaze. "You’re so blunt."

"I
have
to be blunt,” I said as gently as I could. I didn’t want her to think I was an asshole. Just strong and determined. “I have to tell you the truth about how I feel and what I want and what I can give. You have to be completely open with me about what you desire. You have to feel complete trust in me in order to really let go."

She fiddled with the cutlery. "I feel like you're pushing me. I don't like being pressured."