Reluctant Surrender (17 page)

Those words shivered over her. Stoking her senses and tempting her nipples to harden and poke against her bra. She didn’t know what to say to that, or to him. She was nervous and to counter her anxiety she brought a hand up to cover her body’s automatic reaction. Fervently praying he wouldn’t notice.

But he did.

With the moonlight illuminating the dark interest on his face, he gently pushed her arm aside and stared down at the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Whatever he saw there pleased him. “Why, Colin, you are a naughty girl.” He punctuated that intimate pronouncement by reaching for her. Only this time when he kissed her, there was no gentle persuasion about it. He was aggressive and hungry as his hands fitted into the sides of her hair, fisting hard. Pulling to guide the embrace. His mouth angled over hers. Devouring.

And if she thought she was dizzy before, now she had to grab hold of his shirt to keep from falling backward. Stars and bright pinions of light burst behind her closed lids. God, this was good. Every part of her came alive and when his hand moved to slide up under her blouse, she welcomed it. The anticipation, the building and adrenaline were back to consume. Throwing her off balance as her pulse sped and hummed. She held her breath until she groaned aloud, as his strong hand pushed away her bra and cupped her bare breast. The pad of his thumb went straight to the center, pressing temptingly over the erect nipple. She didn’t mind the intimacy. It sent bone-melting sensations right to her core, where her muscles contracted and her flesh went warm and wet.

“Mmm.”

“Come here.” He dragged her across his lap so she faced him in a straddle. The heart of her spread open over his thighs, hovering over his heat above his hardness, until he placed the flat of his big palm against the small of her back and pushed her in and down onto him.

“Ethan…”

She climbed him. Trying to connect with any part of him she could. Hastily tasting and exploring. Ripping at his shirt and grinding down onto his lap. Pivoting and pushing herself all over him until a tiny thread of clarity emerged and she realized he wasn’t participating. He seemed content to let her do this intimate discovering on her own while he sat, with arms braced behind him supporting their combined weight.

Halting mid neck-lick, she breathed, “Ethan?”

“Hmm?”

Slowly, she leaned back to see his eyes. “Is something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then why aren’t you…?” Dropping her hands from where they’d been strangling his shirt, she sighed, “Did I do something wrong?”

He sat forward and she noticed his pupils were dilated, his jaw was tight and his nostrils slightly flared. He was feeling this as much as she was, she was sure of it. So why was he calmly shaking his head? Pensively staring at her before tucking a hunk of her hair behind an ear and sighing. “No. You’re impulsive, Colin, so this behavior is to be expected from you. For me? Impulsiveness is my enemy. I don’t base my actions on needs. If I did, trust me, we’d already be naked and covered in sweat.”

“Oh…” She scratched her head. “Am I supposed to understand all this?”

“Not yet, but you will.” He gently slid her off his lap and stood. Offering her his hand he said, “Tomorrow, after you write your blog post I’m going to teach you proper positioning. It will make for an easier transition. Then we’ll play a little.”

“Transition?” Her antenna went up with a zing. She wasn’t that drunk. “I don’t like the sound of that.” She crossed her arms and glared.

He didn’t blink, only calmly reached over and pulled her arms down and out of their closed position. “I say this, Colin, because there will be a change in you. An understanding of self that will be for the better. I promise.”

“You’re sure about this.”

“Positive.” He tucked the other side of her hair behind her ear and winked. “This is a consensual power exchange. We play together. And if I don’t do a great job the first time around you won’t want to play with me again a second time.”

When that sunk in she made a wordless
oh
.

He brought her in for a hug and then let her go. “It’s late. I think it’s time for you to go to bed. Go on.”

She wasn’t going to argue. The phrase “we play together” really had a nice ring to it, but the whole way to her room all she could do was think about those words and what the concept meant to him.

Ethan let her go. Hell, he’d made her go because he feared if he hadn’t he would have forced her to stay. He would have stripped her bare both physically and emotionally until he owned her tears and she wasn’t ready for that kind of real. Not yet, but she would be. Eventually. He’d make damn sure of it because Colin Reneaux was a woman worth keeping.

All day and night he’d tried to deny what he was feeling. After all, it had been a long time since he’d been happy in any measure. And now, with her? He found himself wanting to smile, more often than not. Wanting to spend time with her. Watch her. Touch her. God, he looked up at the stars, her skin was the texture of warm silky satin and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

After he figured he’d given her enough time to get to bed, he headed up to the house. His every thought focused on what she slept in at night. Knowing her, probably a pair of fleece pajamas and matching socks. No, her dead mice moccasins. Recalling them reminded him of the heels she had on tonight. The ones she’d kicked off when she got out of the limo. With those in mind he went on the hunt. She wouldn’t have remembered to bring them in and once he checked the area, he was surprised when he came up empty-handed. Maybe she had—

He stopped right inside the door when he spotted them. Her pumps perfectly aligned and centered on the mat in the hallway. He crouched down and ran a finger over one little strap as he shook his head and smiled. The surge of pleasure he experienced was deep. She really was a keeper.

He didn’t get up. Instead he pulled his cell out of his back pocket and dialed.

“Hey, Alistair.” Ethan was in too good a mood to be pissed that his attorney was ragging on him. He let him rant for a few seconds and then said, “Sure, I know what time it is, but this is important. I want you to…”

* * * * *

Ethan couldn’t help smiling when Colin made a regal entrance into the family room the next morning. Her back was ramrod straight and she was walking as if she had a pile of slippery books stacked on her head. But what really got him was the pair of black sunglasses she sported that covered most of her face.

“How are you this morning?” It was mean, but he purposely shouted the question at her.

“Jesus! Tone it down some octaves, would you?”

“That bad, eh?”

He watched her feel her way around the couch before she took a seat. “I think it was the brandy.”

He chuckled and slid off the stool. “Here, drink this. I’m glad you left your hair down.”

She took the glass and held it up. “What is it?”

“Gatorade.”

“I need coffee.”

“No you don’t. Caffeine’s not good for a hangover.”

“Aspirin?”

“No, aspirin is a blood thinner just like alcohol, so that would be counterproductive. A couple of glasses of the Gatorade to get your electrolytes balanced and you’ll be fine.”

“I hope so.”

“In the meantime, I’ve got some studying for you to do.”

“I don’t think I’m up to studying today.”

“Drink the Gatorade.” He leaned down and placed the pages on the table in front of her. “Then go over these. There will be a test after you have breakfast.”

She didn’t look at the pages, probably why she was still calm, and said, “I don’t feel like eating anything at the moment.”

He took hold of her chin and ignored how she winced when he carefully removed her glasses. “Read over what I’ve given you while I slice you up a banana and make you some egg whites and whole wheat toast.”

She squinted up at him. “Banana?”

“It’s got plenty of potassium. The eggs have protein and the toast is a carb. Can’t hurt.”

He’d just cracked and separated an egg into a bowl when she spotted what was on those pages.

“Hold the phone. I’m not doing this.”

“Yes you are.”

“No, for sure. Absolutely, I’m not. Uh-uh. Nope. Not going to happen.”

He tossed the egg shells into the garbage and sighed. “It’s only three positions. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you’ll be able to master them quickly enough.”

“Naked?” she squeaked.

“That’s what’s bothering you about it?” He cracked and separated another egg. “You can keep your clothes on for as long as you want to.”

She took a moment to scrutinize him from across the room and then turned her attention back to the pages, grumbling, “All right then.”

He was sure she wouldn’t be so keen to agree to it if she knew herself better. Today he’d get her stripped down to her undergarments, he was sure of it and maybe tomorrow or the next she’d be presenting to him naked in a kneel. That was a nonnegotiable. He liked his rituals and she’d come to cherish them too. As soon as she understood the positions themselves worked to enhance her mental and emotional submissive state.

He already knew this was a huge trigger for her. In the office when he’d put her to her knees she was ready to be commanded. She hadn’t balked when he ordered her to reach for her panties and when she’d come up from all fours into a kneel and turned so she was between his legs he knew her gaze wasn’t lowered out of deference as she eyed his lap. Just as he knew she didn’t stumble on the cock slut website by accident.

“This third one looks easy enough.”

He cracked another egg and held his tongue. He wasn’t going to burst her bubble before breakfast. Because he was sure she was looking at those positions like yoga exercises while they were much more than that. They were a stamp of ownership. His brand of ritual. His, unique to him, desired placement of her before him, and within his household. This was also the first of many steps he’d need to take with her before she belonged to him.

After last night and the generous way she’d opened up to him, he wanted her and with that decision made he had ten days to convince her that this was what she should want too.

“What about these eggs. Would you like scrambled egg whites or a goat cheese omelet?

* * * * *

Colin closed her eyes and held her breath. Ethan was kneeling right behind her with one hand splayed on her abdomen and his other encircling her neck.

“That’s right. Breathe deep, from here.” He gently pushed into her stomach as a reminder and when he leaned around her she shivered hearing him speak so close to her ear. “Slow and easy. Chin up and eyes downcast.”

She would have moved if she could, but she had no room. Instead she opened her eyes and tried to get a sidelong glimpse of him. “I’m sorry. I was trying to focus but it’s a lot harder than it looks and besides, I’m hung over.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Yours.”

“I believe I warned you several times about nerves and alcohol. Now, pay attention. Next time you’re going to be doing these on your own while I watch.”

She held the position and kept her eyes down. Thinking about some of the stuff they’d been discussing. After a moment she asked, “You’d really put a woman in the corner and make her wait to be spanked?”

“Yes.” When he moved his hand up, forcing her chin higher, she shivered and as he continued to speak softly right by her ear she quaked. “If she needed to be corrected. A proper state of mind is imperative when doling out a punishment.”

“For you or for her?”

“For you,” he growled and nipped her lobe. The bite sent a shock wave from her lobe to directly between her legs.

“I don’t know how you do it.”

“What?” He was still at her ear. Still quiet. Still making her shiver.

“How do you make something so outrageous seem normal?”

He let go of her neck and brought his hand to the top of her chest. It was a kind of hold. Pressure, but no force. “Who defines that normal? You? Society? Your parents? Your neighbors? Who?”

“I—” She frowned because now that she thought about it she had no answer for him. “I don’t know.”

He pressed his jaw against her temple. “Here’s something you do know. My normal is as follows. I like to spank, suck, fuck, cherish, challenge, discipline, correct, entice and control my woman. You may think that seems demeaning. I know you like that word, but I’m smart enough to know there’s no honor in degrading a girl who thinks she’s worthless. I make sure my woman knows her value because I don’t do all these things to her, I do them for her. There’s a vast difference between the two.”

He let go of her and it took every ounce of strength she had not to sit back on her heels and remain as she was.

“Now.” He stood and came around in front of her. She saw those Italian shoes of his and the funny thing was she felt better. They were a familiar thing to focus on as she lowered her bottom to her heels. Just like he’d showed her. By the time she was set with her shoulders back and her hands clasped behind her, her breathing was light and erratic. He must have noticed.

“Breathe deep.”

He walked around her, commenting on all the positive things he saw and corrected where he felt she lacked. “Good shoulder angle but you need to spread your knees a little farther apart. Very good.”

His voice was soothing and when he brushed the back of his knuckles down the side of one of her cheeks she couldn’t help it. She moaned.

He sat down on the coffee table and watched her. It was humiliating to some degree and comforting to another. It didn’t take her long to settle in and admit that she liked his attention homed in on her. And when he reached forward and tweaked her spiked nipple through her blouse she wanted to sigh. The aches he created. The contractions that centered between her legs were almost painful at times. Again and again he scissor-pinched the swollen part of her breast until her center was hot and soaking wet. She had to work hard to keep her eyes open and directed on the floor as he taught her when all she wanted to do was close them and drown in sensations.