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Authors: Lauren Smith

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Emery set his phone on the nightstand and opened the drawer. It was time to start showing Sophie how to be submissive. The first lesson was about understanding who she belonged to. Inside the drawer a pair of delicate gilded cuff bracelets, perfect for Sophie’s wrists, lay nestled on a black velvet cloth. He’d had the cuffs for a couple of years, hoping someday to have a woman to give them to. Yet, not a single woman he’d met before now had seemed…worthy of them.

He didn’t really delve much into the D/s lifestyle. He didn’t spend hours lecturing his subs on proper postures, or punish them for small things. For him, the true allure was control of a woman in bed. He never wanted to see Sophie bow her head to him when they were outside of it. He wanted her fiery, rebellious, completely free, save for those gold cuffs. Those had to be around her wrists. Proof to the world of his possession.

As though somehow aware of his thoughts, Sophie stretched, murmured something, and nuzzled her pillow. She didn’t wake up even as he knelt next to her on the bed, brushed the hair back from her face, and peeled back the covers. He positioned one gold collar around her right wrist and clicked the clasp shut. Longing and hunger grasped hold of him. He clicked the second cuff around her left wrist. Fire licked at his veins, and an ache tore through his chest. The sight of the gold around her skin, marking her as his, was too much.

He put his knees on either side of her hips, keeping her pinned beneath the sheets. Sophie woke just as he grasped her wrists and moved them up by her ears.

“Emery, what—”

He took her mouth hard. She gasped against his lips, wriggling, but she couldn’t move much. Her arm muscles tensed beneath his hands as she pushed, and then went limp. Sophie sighed into him, kissing him back. Her momentary struggle and surrender made him tense with the prolonged desire to claim her. She’d released her death grip on her mistrust and given him the submission he craved. The soft silk of her hair spilled out over the pillow, strands tickling the backs of his palms like condensed sunlight. Her plump, satin lips were perfect for kissing. So damned perfect.

Emery ground his hips into hers, trying to soothe his cock, which was so stiff it was ready to punch through his pants. He slid his hands up to her wrists then connected his palms to hers. She responded, lacing her fingers through his, squeezing gently. His throat tightened and his eyes burned.

The simple connection—so sweet, so innocent—bound him to her, like a shimmering web spun between them, unbreakable and inescapable. He lifted his head a few inches, needing to see her eyes.

They were luminous, her lashes at half-mast. He was lost. A world of unimaginable beauty existed in the crescent silver of her dreamy gaze. He felt like a man from the ancient world, gazing north at the distant star Polaris, finding his way home by the loyal light that shone there. She saw him, every part of her, her light penetrating the shadows stretching out from his soul. He was open, laid bare before her, a man prostrate before a goddess.

Completely and totally vulnerable.

A tremble racked his shoulders, his muscles clenching and tensing. Then pleasure swept through him. He was in control of this luscious, precious woman. He could take her, give her such ecstasy she’d never recover.

Sophie licked her lips, her breath slightly uneven.

“You have to stop doing that,” she whispered in all seriousness, her nose wrinkling just a little.

He cocked a brow. “Doing what?”

“Kissing me like that.”

“You don’t like the way I kiss?” Her body told him otherwise as he shifted above her, the movement pressing his groin into hers. She raised her hips, seeking him, but the sheet and their clothes kept them worlds apart.

“I like it too much. That’s the problem.”

He rolled his hips again, reveling in the little hiss of frustration she made.

“What else do you like too much?” He dropped his head to her neck and nibbled on the underside of her throat. She shook slightly, her pulse leaping beneath his tongue. She was incredibly responsive and her inexperience made her reactions raw and pure. It was perfect. She was perfect.

“That. That’s definitely too good.” Her response was barely more than a breathless rush of words.

“Good. My sub has pleased me with her honest responses. You’ve earned a reward.” He eased off her and lay down beside her on the bed.

Sophie’s hands fluttered to her wrists, making contact with the gold cuffs.

“What are these?”

“Cuffs.”

Sophie’s lips twitched, even as she narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, I can see that. Why’d you put them on me?”

He propped himself up on one elbow and drew a finger along the sensitive skin of her inner right wrist by the cuff.

“It’s part of our bargain. The cuffs remind you that you are mine.”

“Okay, so what’s my reward for allowing this?”

“You didn’t allow it, Sophie. You surrendered to it. Never think being a submissive is about allowing your dom to do something. You surrender. You give me your power.” Emery cupped her face and held her gaze, forcing her to confront his domination and accept it.

Her eyes—still wild, still free—darkened like a waning moon. “I surrender.”

His smile was instant and overpowering. He couldn’t have stopped it from happening. The promise of pleasure was there, in her gaze and his body. Sophie returned his smile.

“Now, your reward is to play tennis with Cody while I have a business meeting. I want you to get good and tired for later. Tired subs are less rebellious.”

The look she gave him would have melted metal. “Oh yeah? Good to know.” Sophie slipped free of him and caught sight of her luggage. A little squeal of joy escaped her lips as she darted over to it and began pulling items out. His eyes locked on the sight of her bottom as she bent over to dig through her suitcase.

Emery swallowed hard as desire struck a vibrant cord in him—pure, hard and ravenous to lay his hand to her bottom, to get her off on the faintest edge of pain.

“I can’t wait to take a shower.” She padded over to his bathroom. He should have let her clean up, but the desire to get his hands on her bottom was a siren call impossible to resist.

“Stop.”

She froze, one bare foot on the marble bathroom floor, the other in the thick bedroom carpet.

He rose and crossed his arms, enjoying this far too much.

“Come here. Now.” He pointed to the edge of his bed and tapped one foot.

She crept over, looking suspicious, and rightly so. He had every intention of spanking her.

“Bend over the bed.” He pointed a finger at the spot he wished her to be.

Protest and outrage flashed in her lovely eyes, but she did as he commanded.

“Hands flat on the bed by your head. Good girl. Now, when you wish to ask me something and we’re alone, you first acknowledge our relationship by addressing me as ‘Sir’. For example, ‘may I use your shower, Sir?’ To which I reply, ‘yes you may.’ Because you are new to this, only five pats. Count them for me or I will start over. When I’m done, you will thank me for your punishment.”

A heartbeat of silence, then, “Yes, Sir.”

He was tempted to pull her boxers down, to feel satiny skin beneath his palm, but she wasn’t ready for that. He put his hand on her, and she tensed. Then he swung his hand down on her bottom. He didn’t strike hard at all, just gave her a little sting. He caressed each spot he struck, letting her count the gentle blows with trembling pants. When he reached five he smoothed his hand over her, delighted to feel her heated skin through the thin cotton of the boxers.

Was she ready for more? He moved his hand down between her legs and cupped her mound, pressing the heel of his palm against the soft fabric. Wetness seared him through the thin cloth. Sophie whimpered and jolted when he found her swollen clit and circled it with his index finger. The hardened bud of her arousal called to him, lured him, promising sweet release inside her body. But he couldn’t take her yet; she wasn’t ready for his type of sex—for the raw, savage need that blazed inside him like a wildfire devouring a dry forest.

“Take your pleasure. Push back, ride my hand.” His voice scraped over his throat, almost guttural as he tried to rein in his own hunger.

She needed little urging to circle her hips, rubbing against his hand. She found a rhythm and when she came, it was with a strangled gasp as she buried her face in the comforter on the bed.

“Th-thank you, Sir.” It was so quiet and muffled by the bed that he thought he might have imagined it. As though she was startled by the fact that she’d climaxed.

Emery’s hand tingled as he stroked her soothingly. “There will be times, Sophie, when I punish you. I won’t ever mark you, or hurt you. A slight taste of pain can heighten pleasure. Never think I mean to harm you. Do you understand? Sometimes a spanking isn’t about punishment, but about pleasure.”

It was crucial that she understood. He didn’t indulge enough in the lifestyle to have many rules or expectations. He didn’t want her cowering, head bowed. But he did want her to give up herself to him, for the pleasure they could share. If she could understand that, they would get along well.

“Yes, I understand.” Sophie shifted, her bottom rolling restlessly beneath his touch.

He removed his hand and stepped back, focusing on breathing through his nose. He was so hard he could barely walk, but he had to see to her first. Helping her to stand on shaking legs, he led her to his shower. He gave her everything she needed to bathe and with a quick, rough kiss, left her alone.

The second he shut his bedroom door he leaned back against it, drawing in slow, deep breaths. His hands were shaking, his body tense and aching to finish what he’d started. Never before had a woman’s body been so alluring, so irresistible, as Sophie’s had. Her passion had unfurled like petals seeking the sun, all at the right pats and strokes from his hands, as though she were made for him.

Emery attempted to focus on the LI board as he dressed and left his room, on what he’d need to talk to them about, and how he’d handle Brant if his cousin decided to make trouble with the press release issue. But his thoughts continued to stray back to the woman he’d left behind. He wished thoughts of business would kill his sexual hunger for Sophie. But they didn’t. She was on his mind, her scent on his skin, her cries of release still ringing in his ears. He wanted nothing more than to walk back into his room, drag Sophie into his arms and topple them both onto the bed. And that need, that ache to be with her and forget the rest of the world was the worst thing he could give in to.

The last person he’d dared to be close to had been his twin.

Fenn.

And he was gone. Everyone he cared about had left him. His parents had abandoned their family estate after Emery escaped and came home. They’d left the last place his brother and he had been together. Their leaving was a betrayal, one that cut soul deep. He’d been too young to argue when they’d made him go with them to their new home, but after college he’d moved back to the house by himself. It was so easy to hide away from the world, but it was lonely, so damn lonely. But better to stay here, protected and alone, than out there in the world losing everyone he cared about.

He shouldn’t have given in to his need to bring Sophie here.

Emery couldn’t allow himself to be so foolish with Sophie. She’d leave, and he’d be alone again, too afraid to go out into the world to be with her. Doomed always to be alone.

My penance, Fenn’s sacrifice. His life for mine. Always.

Chapter 8

M
IRANDA AND
E
LLIOT
L
OCKWOOD HAVE OFFERED A $50,000 REWARD FOR ANY INFORMATION THAT WILL LEAD TO THE RETURN OF THEIR GOLDEN-HAIRED SONS.
P
ICTURES OF THE MISSING CHILDREN HAVE BEEN INCLUDED WITH THIS ARTICLE IN HOPES THAT SOME READER WILL HAVE SEEN THE TWINS AND THAT SUCH INFORMATION WILL LEAD TO THEIR SAFE AND SPEEDY RECOVERY.


New York Times
, June 10, 1990

S
ophie leaned back against the shower wall for support. Her body was a stranger to her, betraying her with an orgasm so powerful she’d been unable to breathe, to speak. Her mind had blacked out. She’d been aroused by Emery’s punishment, been on fire when he’d caressed her clit and massaged her mound.

It had turned her into some sort of wild animal, needing release with a maddening intensity. She’d shamelessly used him to get what she’d wanted, and had hoped he’d use her in return, but he’d escorted her to the bathroom and abandoned her when all she’d wanted was for him to stay and hold her.

Am I crazy?

To want a man who’d spanked her to hold her and comfort her after a mind-blowing orgasm brought on by being punished?

Yeah, definitely crazy
.

Still, if he had stayed, she would have panicked. She needed her space, to reclaim herself again in whatever way she could. She was on the edge of falling off, losing herself to him and his world.

Despite her relief at being alone, the emptiness of the bathroom left her feeling oddly hollow. How had Emery’s presence become more crucial to her than her privacy?

After forcing herself through the motions of washing, she got out and threw on some workout clothes. She wasn’t a fan of competitive sports, couldn’t even name more than five professional football teams, but she loved to exercise. Tennis would be a welcome distraction. And with Cody, she might get some answers to her burning questions.

He was waiting in the hall outside Emery’s bedroom. He wore a gray t-shirt and black basketball shorts and running shoes. She bit her lip to hide a smile.

“What?” he asked curtly.

“I thought you’d be wearing a polo shirt and short tennis shorts. You look like you’re ready to go play a pick-up game of basketball.”

“Yeah…I’m not like the Bossman. He’s old school, all class and East Coast money. I’m from inner city Chicago.”

Cody lifted his chin. The shuttered, defensive expression on his face made her heart ache. He was as out of place as she was in this world of luxury.

She offered him a smile. “I’m from Manhattan, Kansas. I’m not exactly at home here either.”

Cody’s face softened. He handed her one of the two tennis rackets. “Let’s do this so I can get back to work.”

Sophie caught him by the arm, halting him. “Hey, you want to ditch tennis? I’d rather talk.”

The fleeting moment of trust she’d established with him faded. His spine stiffened and he slid back a step.

“If it’s about Emery, we don’t talk about him.”

He started walking. She rushed to catch up, trying to match his long strides.

She fisted a hand in his t-shirt sleeve to get him to look at her. “No. You will talk to me because last night he went into some sort of mental episode and locked me out.”

Cody froze. His fingers clenched the tennis racket.

“Emery flashed back the second he heard the clock chime and talked to me as though I were Fenn.”

“The chime? Of the clock in the hall? Shit!”

He tossed the racket and started running. Sophie dropped her own racket and ran after him.

Cody ran down the steps two at a time and skidded to a stop in front of the clock. He opened the wood panel at the base and ripped out several little pieces of metal, shoving them into his pockets. He studied the clock and the swinging pendulum with a deep scowl.

He flicked his eyes to hers. “Hans removed the parts from this clock years ago. It should never have been able to chime. I’m tossing these parts in the trash.”

“So who put the parts back in?” Sophie reached out to touch the rich smooth wood of the clock’s base.

“I don’t know, but I have to find out. If you ever hear that clock or any other clock chime in this house, you get me or Hans immediately.”

Sophie gritted her teeth. “Only if you tell me why.”

Silence passed, and Cody breathed hard as he considered her. “Fine, but not here. Let’s go to my office.”

She followed him down another series of halls, ever more aware of the massive size of Emery’s home. Cody paused in front of a gilded door with a keypad entry. He quickly punched in a code and the locks clicked. He gripped the brass knob and opened the door for her to enter.

Cody’s office was a cornucopia of gadgets and computer gear. She’d definitely stumbled into Batman’s cave.

“Welcome to the Larson Command Center.” He pulled back a cushy chair and let her sit down, then shut the door and picked up a little black box. He flicked a switch and the blinking red light on the side changed to a steady green glow.

“What’s that?” Sophie pointed to the box as he sat down in the chair next to her.

“Bug jammer.”

“Paranoid much?” she teased, but Cody only stared at her, no trace of humor in his pale blue eyes.

“Trust me. Any paranoia I’ve got is justified.”

“Okay, so what’s with the clock chimes then?”

Cody slid his wireless keyboard onto his lap. Plinking away at the keys, he set up one of his monitors to reveal a large conference room. Nine men sat around the table. Emery was at the head, talking, but Sophie couldn’t hear any voices so she figured Cody must have muted it somehow.

She leaned forward, squinting at the men on the screen. “Cody, did you mute them?”

He ignored her question and instead picked up his wireless keyboard and started tapping away. The computer monitor nearest her started rapidly flashing through various camera feeds. Room after room came up empty. Only when his scan was finished did Cody seem to relax. His shoulders rolled back and the tension tightening his features eased.

“The sound of clock chimes set him off. Hans and I think that wherever the kidnappers held him must have had an old clock. He goes back to the night he escaped. Hans and I have witnessed enough of the flashbacks to have put a few pieces of the puzzle together. Emery and Fenn were held somewhere close by for a couple of months. Then something happened and there was a chance to escape. We think Fenn distracted the kidnappers so Emery could get out. Fenn must have died that night. They must have killed him. Whatever happened, Emery won’t talk about it.”

Sophie hesitated. “He’s going to tell me everything.”

Cody’s brows rose. “Does he know that?”

“Yes. It’s why I’m here. We have a deal.” Embarrassment heated her cheeks, but she had to explain the situation to him or he wouldn’t help her.

Cody’s face darkened. “So you bang the Bossman, and he shares his tragic details over pillow talk? To think, I was hoping you’d be different.”

Fury spiked in her. “It isn’t like that! You’ve checked me out. Why do you think I’m here? To hurt him? I have to talk to him. It’s not just about the story. I have other reasons.”

With a long sigh Cody sank back into his chair, his attention once more on the monitors. “It’s about the girl abducted from the park?”

Her eyes burned with tears and she focused on Emery’s face on the screen.

“Rachel.”

There weren’t words for anything else.

Cody’s voice was rough when he pointed to Emery on the screen. “That man owns my soul. He rescued me and I can’t even begin to repay him. I’d die for him. Hans, too. Do you understand that?”

Goose bumps rose on Sophie’s arms. There was an odd sinking in her chest and she shifted restlessly. “I get it. Loyalty like that runs deeper than friendships, deeper than blood. It’s soul deep.”

Cody released a heavy breath. “Yeah. So you get me when I say if I think even for a second that you’re a threat to him, I’ll shut you out.”

Sophie understood that sort of loyalty even though she’d never had it, not after losing Rachel. But she knew full well what it was like to believe in protecting someone else with every fiber of her being. The fact that she sensed Emery was still in danger made her want to protect him like that.

“If I have it my way, I’ll be one of his greatest allies. Cody, I know you saw my life, pulled out all my dark secrets, but you seemed to have missed the big picture.” Sophie looked him straight in the eye. “I’m an investigative journalist. The police let me help. I’ve solved twenty-five-year-old cold cases. I’ve been looking into Emery’s case.”

The chair creaked as Cody leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. Hope burst into his eyes. “You think you can solve the kidnapping?”

Sophie nodded. She knew, just knew in her gut that if she could get Emery to talk, the details he’d give her would be the key to solving it.

“There are things that don’t fit. I think it was an inside job. The ransom may not have even been the real goal. What he went through doesn’t match up with ransom abductions, but rather resembles faked kidnappings to hide murders. I need Emery to talk to me, to give me those details he hasn’t shared with anyone else. I think they might be the key. And if I’m right?” She paused and drew in a deep breath, making sure she had his complete attention. “He’s still in danger. Whoever targeted the twins then will still want him dead. He’s a ticking time bomb.”

Cody was silent for a second. “But it’s been twenty-five years. Who’s to say the kidnappers are still alive? Or the person or persons who hired them?”

“One kidnapper. I’ve gotten that much out of him. Whoever the other two men were, they don’t seem to be in the picture anymore. We’re looking at one man, and if it’s an inside job, we’re talking family or friends of the Lockwoods. Emery’s kept himself locked up here pretty well, but I have a feeling he may be targeted soon. I read that Lockwood Industries is planning to release a new product that will change private security. Is that true?”

The resident hacker coughed pointedly and gave a small nod. “It might be…I’m bound by confidentiality agreements not to say anything, but it will make a ton of money for the company in the coming months.”

“And that’s exactly the type of thing someone would want to capitalize on if they were planning to take him out. At the right time, Emery’s death could make someone very rich. We just have to figure out who.”

“One last question.” He steepled his fingers, eyeing her sharply, like a falcon watching a field mouse.

“Ask.” She knew he meant to test her, could see it in his eyes. He would kill to protect Emery and right now he was making sure she wasn’t a threat.

“Why do you care about Emery or what happened to him? Why do you need to solve this case so badly?”

She didn’t answer right away, but sorted through the truths that filled her like crystal water in a large stone basin. She’d peered into that water long enough, for so many years, that she knew what mattered and what he wanted her to say because it’s what she would have wanted someone to say if she’d asked the question.

“The man who took my friend, the man who took Emery…they can’t go free. It’s a battle waged every day. Good people try to protect innocent lives, but we don’t always win. When someone is lost…we have to find a way to pursue justice. We can’t allow people like that to go free, to harm others. I never really wanted to be a journalist, but I owed it to Rachel, to give her justice. If not her, then the thousands of other victims whose lives were violently ended and too soon. Emery deserves to have peace and know he’s safe, at least from the man who killed his brother. I wish I could have peace for what happened to Rachel. It’s about righting the wrongs, fighting evil. It’s my burden, my price. Do you understand?”

“More than you know,” he replied in a low voice. He focused on her intently. “What do you need from me?”

She was slightly surprised at his abrupt agreement. Whatever she’d said must have swayed him, and for that she was grateful. “First, I want you to get me everything you know about the Lockwood family. I need every police report, witness statement, anything you’ve got connected to that night.”

“You got it, babe.” Cody winked and picked up his keyboard again. “Let’s catch some bad guys.”

*  *  *

Emery leaned back in the massive cherrywood chair at the end of the large conference table. Brant and seven other board members watched him. They’d just spent the last thirty minutes discussing whether the latest GPS locator was ready for its launch. The board would sometimes get their feathers ruffled when Emery went over their heads to get gadgets out on the shelves faster. To him it was simple. If the product had passed the safety and warranty tests, then it was ready to go. There was no need for large-scale delay and massive release parties to build hype around the product. Lockwood Industries had been founded on one concept: get a good product, make it affordable, and get it out into the hands of the consumer.

In essence, Emery built products that could rescue people. Waterproof GPS locators, cellphones with satellite connectivity options, ground-penetrating radar. The goal for the devices to help people was of key importance. After everything that had happened to him as a boy, he’d wished he’d had something like the products he made. He’d have given anything for a cellphone that his parents could have traced to find him, but there hadn’t been anything like that then. Now, he made product that saved lives. And to Emery, that’s what mattered. Not a huge launch party for a product that might reveal massive defects only a month after it hit the market.

“Gentleman, I think you’ll find releasing the Black Widow locator a week early will generate more interest and increase profits.”

The murmur or reluctant agreement made him nod and stand. “I thank you all for coming.”

The board members filed out of the room until only he and Brant remained. Morning light bathed the walnut-paneled room in rich gold. Emery was content to stay in the sun for a moment, absorbing its warmth. After last night, he felt as though the chilly rain had sunk deep into his bones.

BOOK: The Gilded Cuff
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