Read His To Take: Night One Online

Authors: Kera Whisper

His To Take: Night One (3 page)

BOOK: His To Take: Night One
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“Promise?”

“Yes, to fuck her until she’s climbing the walls with bliss. And Juliet, right now your eyes are pleading for me to make good on my promise.”

— C H A P T E R  2 —

 

I stepped away, heading straight back for my whiskey glass. I wasn’t a drinker, but if there was ever a time...

I
finished the liquid in successive, determined sips, gasping at the burn.

“Now that you’
ve fortified yourself, return,” he ordered with power and authority in his every word and nuanced movement.

I swallowed, still hating his commanding tone, hating myself because I knew I was about to enslave myself to him for a week.

“When you do return, I will take that as agreement to my terms. From now on, I will expect absolute obedience.”

Your
only play.
I turned, crossing back to him. The alcohol burned in my belly, making everything feel a bit softer. I could swear he’d dimmed the lights.

Without warning, he looped an arm around me and
lifted me onto his desk. I cried, “What are you doing?” I thought we’d warm by getting to know each other!

H
e rasped, “I’m positioning you as it pleases me.” His breaths ghosted over my ear, making me shiver. “You’ve just become my possession,
cara mia
, one I plan to unwrap and enjoy.”

I wanted to be offended, to not react to this man. But
then, his warm hands cradled my face. “Part your lips for your new master.”

Master? Even my tension over his words was no match for the shivers dancing over my skin.
He emanated such unimaginable strength that it felt foolish to ever try to resist it. I didn’t want to be a fool. I parted my lips.

He
slanted his mouth over mine and his hot tongue met mine—and all was lost.

I moaned into the kiss, tentatively licking his tongue. He tasted of whisk
ey and something hot and unknowable, something I wanted more of. He stroked his tongue harder, so I did too.

And then I drowned in pleasure. Again and again we twined our tongue
s. The kiss was wet, dirty, spine-tingling.

One of my
shoes fell off but I hardly cared.

I felt like all the desire I’d kept bottled up for years was exploding to the fore.
Was my skirt working its way up my legs? When I felt the fabric of his slacks against my inner thighs, I drew back. “Wait. Too fast.”

He
tilted his head. “In this, I agree.” His voice was huskier. “If I come before I intend to, you would be punished for it.”

I bit my bottom lip. “
Um, noted?”

He sat in his chair. I noticed his bulging hard-on
and glanced away.

“Look at it, Juliet,” he commanded. “Look what you
r kiss has done to me.”

I obeyed,
expecting myself to gasp with embarrassment. Instead I surveyed the prodigious length with a curious sense of accomplishment. A man this fine desired me ... thoroughly.

My desire w
as just as apparent. There I sat on his desk, with my skirt halfway up my thighs, one shoe on. My nipples pressed against my silk blouse, seeming to harden with each of my panting breaths.

“Let your hair down.


Okay,” I said absently, still staring at his hardened penis.

“Answer me,
yes sir
.”

He couldn’t be
serious?

“Say it.”

I stared at my lap. “I’m sorry. I’m having problems with this,” I said miserably. “I want to do as you’re commanding.” I wanted to save Tommy. “But something inside me keeps balking.”

And
even still, my body was on fire. I’d be too embarrassed for him to see me dripping wet anyway. Much less for him to see my harlot red hair down there.

I was dimly aware that he’d stood to
refill my glass. When he returned to hand it to me, he said, “Drink this. I’ve added something to enhance the mood.”

My gaze shot to his face.
“You’re
drugging
me?”

“It’s a
recreational aphrodisiac, very common in Milan. It will relax you, helping with your American repression.”

“I’m not repressed.” I was seriously repressed.
But maybe it was better to be a repressed American than a
kinky European
. “How do I know you won’t knock me out?”

“Because if that was my intent, I’d have done it with your first drink.” In a tighter voice, he said, “I tend to like my women willing
and awake, thank you.”

Great.
I’d insulted him.


Drink, Juliet,” he ordered. “It will make tonight all the more enjoyable for you.”

I’d never taken the first drug, rarely popped even a Tylenol.
Tommy was forever experimenting with pot, ecstasy, and acid, but I was boring.

Tonight, I’m not.
Staring at Cesan’s mesmerizing eyes, I found my shaking hand lifting the glass. I was in Italy, shedding my old life, one broken rule after another. When I thought of how much this would shock Gran, I knocked back more burning liquid.

I set down the glass. Had I really just drugged myself
—so I’d make a better sex slave for this strange man?

As if in reward,
Cesan laid his big, hot hands on my shoulders, using his thumbs to stroke the front of my neck. As he petted me, I felt warmth blooming over my body, my arousal seeming to multiply.

I felt ... amazing.

“Nice, no?”

When I grinned up at him, he sucked in a breath. “
Such generous lips, Juliet. You have a siren’s smile.”

Instead of being embarrassed, my smile deepened. There could be no shame in
what I was doing. I’d been coerced and drugged! All my actions were for a higher purpose, to protect a loved one.

Following Cesan’s commands would be
noble
.

The sense of freedom I experienced at
that moment was exhilarating.
I can do anything.
“I feel good.”

“Bueno.

He returned to his seat. “Now down with your pretty hair. Let me see those Riverleigh red locks.” Everyone on that side of the family had red hair. “And acknowledge my order.”

D
isobeying would be ...
ig
noble. So I said, “Yes sir,” and reached for my bun. After unfastening the clips, I shook the length free.

“Very nice,
Juliet.”

With just that one sparing compliment, I
found myself further under his spell. And if he liked my hair, then maybe he’d like the color of the trim thatch between my legs.


Your blouse. Show me the rest of your treasures.”

I’d hesitated for just a moment
when he said, “You should know, there might come a time when you unwisely balk at one of my orders. I can be harsh, but I reward obedience lavishly. Remember that.”

With a nod,
I began unfastening my buttons. My breasts were a decent size, just above a C-cup, tipped with peach-colored nipples that had
never
been this swollen. But my areolas were puffy and plumper than most women’s I’d seen. What would he think of my breasts?

After the last button, I shrugged from my blouse, revealing
my transparent pink bra. My first impulse was to cover myself or slump, but his heated expression had me squaring my shoulders again.

That expression was as addictive as his scent.

Was I some kind of closet wanton? I felt like I was
starving
for this man’s looks of appreciation.

“On your feet.”

After a heartbeat’s hesitation, I kicked off my remaining heel and stood.

“Remove your skirt, and acknowledge my order.”

“Yes, sir.” That one came a little easier. I drew down the zipper in the back of my skirt, suddenly very relieved I’d forgone Spanx.

When I laid the garment on his desk, h
e assessed me in my simple pink underwear. He had to be able to tell how damp they were—but now he’d think my reaction was due to the aphrodisiac! Secure in that knowledge, I relaxed some. Instead of being embarrassed by his hungry gaze, I let his look seduce me further.


Remove your bra.”

“Yes, sir.” I reached back and unclasped my bra. Artificially fortified, I pulled it off me
to set it atop my skirt.

His gaze darkened on my breasts. “You are a vision, Juliet.”

He liked the way I looked, liked my puffy nipples? Yes, it was apparent in the tense lines of his body. His shaft was now
straining
against the front of his slacks.

I was experimenting sexually with Nico Cesan
, and he liked me. Boring Juliet.

I bit my lip.
Suddenly I wanted to show him that he’d been right to choose me above all others.

To provide me five million dollars. To be my rescuing knight.

In a hoarse voice, he said, “My mouth waters for those impertinent nipples. But we’ll get to that.”

I was topless
, and his gaze had just dipped to my last article of clothing.

Could I do this?

“Panties. Off. But as you remove them, I want to know what you were thinking when you bit your lip just a moment ago.”

I hooked my thumbs on the sides of my panties, and began to tug them down. “I was thinking that I want to be worth it for you.”
I stepped out of them and laid them over my bra.

His wolf’s gaze was back
, locked on my pubic hair. “Riverleigh red,” he breathed. “Oh, believe me, Juliet. I will make you worth my while.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

— C H A P T E R  3 —

 

Still fully dressed, Cesan steepled his fingers, sitting back in his chair. He was so leisurely appraising my naked body that I itched to cover myself. Yet something told me I shouldn’t dare to interrupt his ... appraisal.

At length,
he said, “Look at all that pale white flesh. It will show my marks so prettily.”

Marks?

“Lie back on the desk.”

I swallowed, but did as he said
, wondering where my shame had gone. Oh, yeah, the drug. It was incredible, making me feel like my blood was piping hot, scorching through every vein.

That was why baring myself to him aroused me so deeply.
That was why I lay back, naked on his desk blotter.

Would he
draw back in shock at how wet I was? Should I warn him?

He grabbed my waist
and moved me farther back, until my calves hit the edge of his desk. “Reach your arms over your head and grab your elbows.”

“Yes, sir
.”

When I
complied, he leaned over me, his rigid shaft pressing against my shins. He dipped his head down to nuzzle my breasts, his dark head bent over the pale mounds.

He licked
one nipple hard with the tip of his tongue, making the little nub bobble back and forth. Just like I imagined that satyr had. Never had I felt anything so pleasurable.

“Your nipples are sweet as strawberries.”

I moaned low as he tongued one, then the other, again and again. Soon I began panting, my hips rocking. Could I come just from his wicked tongue?

I moaned and bucked my
naked crotch up, yearning for contact.

H
e rasped against my nipple, “So passionate—I knew you’d be like this! Abandoned.”

I cried,
“What does that mean?”

“It means you get lost in sex, a slave to whatever makes your pussy wetter.”

Was
I abandoned? Was this a bad thing? No, it was just the drug!

“In other words, you’re a
prize to a man like me.” He sat in his chair once more, leaving me fretful. “Now bring your feet up, flat on the desk. That’s it. Spread your thighs.”

I should warn him. “It’s really
, um, between my...”

“Tell me, Julie
t.”

About to die
of embarrassment, I admitted, “It’s wet.”


What
is wet? Your pussy?” Was his tone amused?

I blinked up at him, still shocked by his language. Something told me I’d better get used to it.


That is what you’ll call your vagina from now on. Your pussy or your cunt. That’s how you’ll come to
think
of it. Do you understand?”

BOOK: His To Take: Night One
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