Read Command Online

Authors: Sierra Cartwright

Tags: #Erotic Romance Fiction

Command (23 page)

BOOK: Command
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“What do you want, Aria?”

“Fuck me, Sir,” she replied.

He nodded.

Over the days, she’d become more comfortable with him and his demands, and in fact, liked them. He refused to allow sex to be perfunctory—something that happened in bed at night before two people rolled over and went to sleep.

With Grant, she’d learned, arousal constantly smoldered, just waiting for a spark to take it to flash point.

In moments, he had her against the glass window. She spread her arms and braced her hands on the steel beams.

The view took her breath, and so did the freezing cold sensation when he put a hand in the middle of her back and pressed her forward, flattening her breasts on the frigid pane of glass, making her nipples harden.

“Spread your legs.”

She did and he stroked her pussy, arousing her. He dipped a finger into her pussy, making her damp, and he drew some of that moisture backward to lubricate her ass. Gently, he inserted one finger in her anus, then he brought in his other hand, filling her pussy with four fingers.

Aria couldn’t see his reflection in the window, but she inhaled his scent, that of command and musk.

She was lost as he fucked her cunt, her ass.

Vertigo and passion tilted her world, making her scream.

He had her on the knife-edge of danger, and she felt his sheathed cock at the entrance to her pussy.

Somehow, he managed to keep a finger in her ass, stretching her as he drove his cock up into her, filling her. The double sensation overwhelmed. “I need…”

“Tell me,” he whispered, demanded, breath warm on her ear.

“To come. Please,” she said. He thrust in her hard, and her thoughts vanished. All that remained was raw need. “Please, Sir?”

“That’s it. Come for me, Aria.”

Convulsing on his hard cock, she came.

She continued to rise onto her tiptoes then bend her knees, inviting him, urging him. Each thrust brought him deeper, reignited her desire.

He changed positions, putting one hand in front of her to support her lower abdomen so he could keep her still.

She heard his breathing change, felt a telltale pulse in his cock.

For a moment, he went rigid.

“Yes,” she urged, hot for him again. “I want… Fill me, Grant.”

With a final, shuddered breath, she felt him come, filling her and pushing her into a second orgasm.

He collapsed against her and, for a moment, she supported the combination of their weight before he seemed to find his bearings.

Slowly, he moved the hand that he’d put in front of her, and he pushed it against the support beam then eased himself back.

His cock slid from her, and he withdrew his finger from her ass.

“I’m not sure how that position was even possible,” she told him.

“Me either.”

His hands were on her, helping her to stand.

“That was a hell of a way to get me over the fear of falling off the edge of your house,” she said as he turned her to face him.

“You did go over the edge, metaphorically.”

“Twice,” she said, outlining the hard planes of his jaw.

Together they left the workshop. She no longer felt like working. Besides, she knew their creative conversations would follow them wherever they went. It was part of who they were.

As she usually did, she headed for her shower. She was shocked when he followed her.

“It’s big enough for two,” he told her as he scooped her up and sat her on the countertop. “Molly, shower on. Temperature at a hundred and one.”

“That’s pretty steamy,” Aria said as the water flowed from the shower ceiling.

“It’ll be steamier when you’re in there with me.”

“We’re not done?” she asked, her breath constricting again.

“Aria, we’re just getting started.”

 

Chapter Nine

 

 

 

“Let’s mix it up,” he said.

Aria glanced up. Grant was standing in the doorway of her bedroom, one shoulder propped against the jamb. With his damp hair, freshly shaven face, sexy boots and tight jeans, he made it impossible to think. “What do you mean?”

“Roads are clear. We’ve been stuck here for a few days. We need some groceries, so I figured we could drive to Santa Fe, walk around the Plaza, have dinner then pick up supplies on the way back.”

“Now?”

“It’s less than an hour away. We can use the time in the car to talk.”

She wondered if he’d sensed the restlessness that was starting to crawl through her. “You’ve talked me into it,” she said. “Give me twenty minutes?” She’d need that long to dry her hair and get dressed.

Within thirty minutes, they’d passed the Montoyas’ restaurant. “Julien has a thing for Blanca,” she said. “Who’d have guessed?”

“Probably neither of them,” Grant replied. “Sure as hell not me.”

She settled back, adjusted the lumbar support then turned up the seat warmer by a degree before grabbing her cell phone to check email. “This highway is pretty narrow,” she said. “And gorgeous.”

As they drew closer to Santa Fe, she noticed more Kokopellis. “He really does represent fertility?”

He glanced at her. “Look it up.”

With a shrug, she picked up her phone and asked for the meaning of Kokopelli.

Grant grinned as the response confirmed what he’d told her all along. “Anything else you doubt me about?” he asked.

“Fine,” she said. “You were right.”

“Three of my favorite words.”

“Humility is a virtue.”

“Like you wouldn’t brag if you were right?”

“That’s different,” she insisted.

It took a few trips down narrow streets before they found a parking spot.

“Saint Francis Cathedral,” he said, pointing out a stunning, historic church.

It looked very different from the surrounding adobe buildings, making it stand out more in contrast.

The rest of the Plaza fascinated her. In front of the Palace of the Governors, a number of Native American vendors from various pueblos had braved the cold to display their pottery and stunning pieces of jewelry.

She bent to look at a sterling silver bracelet that had an unusual, green-colored stone set into it.

“It’s hand hammered,” the vendor said.

Aria admired the filigree. It was both delicate and sturdy.

“Candelaria turquoise,” the vendor continued.

“That’s turquoise?” she repeated, looking at the woman.

“From a mine in Nevada. It’s beautiful, as well as unique.”

“It is,” she agreed. Even the small veins of brown added to its beauty.

“Try it on.” The woman, her hair secured in a long, gorgeous braid, picked up the piece and offered it to her.

Putting it on would be the first step to falling in love, she knew.

Grant was no help. He nodded encouragement.

“Did you make it yourself?” Aria asked.

“For you,” she said, jokingly.

Aria offered her wrist and the Native American woman slipped it on.

Even in the weak winter sunlight, the silver seemed to sparkle, and Aria had never seen a stone that color before.

“This shade of green reminds me of your eyes,” Grant said. “And it even sounds like your name. Calendaria.” To the woman, he added, “We’ll take it.”

“But… Wait,” Aria protested. “I don’t even know how much it is.”

The woman named a price that was fair, but Aria’s instinct was to haggle, just a little.

“Done,” he said, extracting his wallet from his back pocket.

“Grant,” she warned. “Don’t.” Her heart began to thunder. Except for an engagement ring, a man had never bought her a piece of jewelry. “I can buy my own things.”

“Of course you can. I just happen to want to do it for you.” He handed the woman two crisp bills.

“I…” Aria looked at him, then the bracelet and finally back to the vendor who was smiling delightedly. She sighed. “I’m not sure what to say.”

“How about thank you?” he suggested, putting his wallet away. To the vendor, he said, “She’ll wear it home.” He shook hands with the vendor, accepted her business card and a velvet pouch to store the gorgeous silver piece.

With his hand under her elbow, he guided her away from people, toward the gazebo across the street in the town center. “It’s beautiful.”

“You still shouldn’t have bought it for me.” She lifted her wrist to admire it, though.

“It was my pleasure.”

“It was too much money.”

“Not in the least,” he countered. “Every time you wear it, you’ll remember this day. And it’ll be tied to memories of me.”

Her breath hitched.

“You’ll remember New Mexico. You’ll remember your first taste of submission. More than anything, this is a symbol of that.”

“That’s a lot of symbolism in one bracelet.”

“It is,” he said. “That’s why I wanted you to have it.”

Even if he hadn’t bought her a remembrance, she would never forget him. “I appreciate the thought.” Aria leaned into him, wrapped her arm around his neck and kissed him. “I love it.”

“Just be glad it didn’t have a Kokopelli on it,” he replied, slapping her hard on the ass.

She yelped and giggled, enjoying their interaction.

He tucked her arm into the crook of his elbow and guided her back across the street to a sidewalk. Since she’d been in New Mexico, the days had started to lengthen slightly. But it was still dark early, and one by one, people were drifting away from the plaza, toward the few restaurants. Stores were starting to turn off lights and lock doors and the Native Americans began to put away their wares.

“Dinner?” he offered.

They wandered into a small restaurant that specialized in seafood.

“Seems odd,” she said, “in the heart of the Southwest.”

He nodded agreement as he accepted a menu. There’d been numerous awards posted in the window, so they’d agreed to give it a try.

It wasn’t just ordinary seafood, she realized as she took her first bite. The fiery, spicy-sweet prawns served with chile polenta were exquisite, as was the wine the waiter had suggested to accompany the meal. “I’ll admit, I was a skeptic,” she said. “When you live on the coast, it’s hard to believe anyone else can do fish well, but this was incredible.”

And so was the Wicked Mexican Chile Chocolate Cake served with a side of cappuccino ice cream.

“Fabuloso!”
she exclaimed.

“Again proving you are fluent in dessert,” he said, before taking a drink of strong piñon coffee.

After dinner, they wandered around the darkened plaza to work off some calories before settling in for the thirty-five minute trip back to Los Alamos.

They barely made it before the grocery store closed for the evening.

As they wound their way back up the mountain, she fell silent. Their day had been exquisite, and she’d always cherish her bracelet. But all-too-soon the visit would be over, and the time with Grant would become nothing more than a memory. His gift had been tied with a bittersweet ribbon.

“You’re quiet,” he observed, sliding her a glance across the darkened compartment.

“Carb coma, I think,” she hedged.

“I’ve got a remedy.”

“Do you?” Aria shook off the sudden melancholy.

Inside, Shadow was waiting, and Molly turned on the lights as they went toward the kitchen. “I’m getting used to this welcoming committee,” Aria admitted.

“We’ll get your apartment set up. You can be our beta tester.”

“I love the idea. Does Shadow come in any other breeds?”

“I’d never thought of it,” he said as he put the milk away. “What’s wrong with…whatever he is. A Labrador, I think.”

“Nothing. But we had a cocker spaniel when I was growing up, and I’ve always wanted another.”

“I’ll consider it. Now, for tonight…”

Work projects were suddenly shoved to the side. “Yes?” she asked.

“Go to my bedroom, take the duffel bag out of the closet, lay out the toys on the bed, then kneel on the floor with the blindfold on and wait for me.”

She forced out a breath. When he’d mentioned a blindfold on a previous occasion, she’d told him she wasn’t sure about it. She knew that saying the word yellow would get her out of anything she didn’t want to do, but in the last day or so, she’d also decided to try as many new experiences as she could. As he’d said, she hadn’t known she’d like having her pussy spanked until she’d experienced it.

“Oh, and Aria?” He folded his arms across his chest in that formidable, Dom-like way that melted her resolve. “I want you naked.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “Of course, Sir.”

It amazed her how much that one word changed her mindset, helping her slip from a day of work and an enjoyable afternoon out to a woman who craved her man’s touch.

She started down the hall. Then, realizing he was watching, she exaggerated her movements. If he was going to accuse her of sashaying, she was going to behave in a way that would find her guilty as charged.

The sound of his guttural groan was all the reward she needed.

With a saucy grin, she stopped at the entrance to his room, turned back toward him and blew him a kiss.

“You’ve just earned your first ever punishment,” he warned her.

Good.

Excitement and nerves collided, winding her tight. She entered his closet for the first time. The space was enormous, big enough for two or more people to peacefully coexist. His stuff barely took up a quarter of the space. She did notice, however, a pair of athletic shoes in a cubby. The neon color was so bright she was afraid it would blind her. She remembered seeing a picture of Grant, Julien, Reece and Kennedy all wearing them. It was hard to believe that four such accomplished men would put such garish shoes on their feet before going out in public.

Worrying that Grant might come into the room and find her not ready for him, she found the duffel on top of a shelf and pulled it down.

Her mouth dried as she took out each item and laid it on the bedspread. Cuffs. Two different blindfolds, one with lace trim, another made from leather. There was a paddle, a flogger made with stringy pieces of rubber, and an egg-shaped vibrator.

As she considered the toys, any doubts about Julien’s motivation were erased. All along, he’d been trying to set them up. She hated people meddling in her life, but there was no doubt that the time away had been worth it. She had more energy. She’d been more creatively challenged than she had in years, and Grant had shown her that there were men out there who were worth waiting for. Ending her engagement had been difficult, but now she was convinced she’d made the right—the only—decision.

BOOK: Command
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ads

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