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Authors: Gena Showalter

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BOOK: The Pleasure Slave
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“All right.” Heeding his instructions, she glided by him, exaggerating and swaying for effect. Only, the heel of one shoe bumped the toe of the other. Julia pitched forward, face first. She landed in a heap on the floor.

Her ankles didn’t survive.

Neither did her pride.

Tristan uttered a long-suffering sigh. “Mayhap we will work on your walk later,” he said.

Mortified, she lumbered to her feet and cursed her throbbing ankles. “I may never walk again.”

“Do not be embarrassed. With some more training, your hips will be a seductive mating call no man can resist.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Tristan hid his amusement behind his palm. Except for the tumble, Julia had strolled like a seduc
tress. However, he planned to make this lesson last for days, weeks,
months
if necessary, so he could not, would not tell her of her feminine allure. “For now, though, we will allow your knees time to heal.”

He stood and sauntered around the desk. When he reached Julia, he latched his palms under her arms and lifted. Higher. Higher still.

“What are you doing?” she gasped, her feet dangling a good three feet from the floor.

He didn’t offer her an explanation. He simply eased her buttocks atop of the edge of the desk. Stacks of papers rained onto the carpet. Without pausing, he slipped her skirt over her knees, past her thighs, revealing the creamy length of her legs. He gave her new position a once-over, then smiled. “Much better.”

“For you, maybe.” Locked in place as she was, Julia felt helpless and vulnerable and aroused. A permanent condition whenever Tristan was near, she was beginning to realize. “Shouldn’t I take notes or something?”

“Nay. You will remember everything I teach you.”

“But what if—”

“Enough.” He waited until her lips closed before continuing. “Because of our bargain, it is my right to give orders and your right to take them.” He loved reminding her of that fact. “You
will
remember.”

“Ok—”

Lightning quick, he covered her mouth with his hand. “No speaking unless you have first gained my permission. Understand?”

“Fine,” came her muffled reply. Since he had spent
the past thousand years obeying orders, Julia figured he was due to issue a few. She didn’t mind, though. After all, he was doing this to help her.

“We will begin anew.” With a satisfied nod, he removed his palm. “Flutter your lashes for me.”

“Flutter my lashes? Women don’t actually do that anymore, do they?”

An exasperated sigh parted his lips. “As I told you before, there is more to enticement than mere words. You must use every part of your body. Now flutter.”

She did as instructed.

He shook his head and frowned. “Enough games, little dragon. How can I teach you if you refuse to cooperate?”

Insulted, she sputtered, “I’m not playing. That’s the best damn fluttering I can do.”

“Hmm.” Long fingers stroked his jaw. “We have much to do then.”

She groaned and nibbled her bottom lip with her teeth. “How long will this take?”

“Many cycles, mayhap,” he said, his lavender eyes darkening. “Or maybe even an entire season.”

Many months, perhaps even an entire year, of intense flirting practice with Tristan? Could her body systems take it?

No!

Which meant she had to work harder. So she spent the next hour diligently practicing her eyelash flutter. It would have been an innocent enough lesson had Tristan kept his fingers off her thighs.

Every time a customer entered, she had to shove him away, hop to the floor and don a respectable business persona, which meant smoothing her skirt from her waist and dousing the lust in her eyes. Both of which only managed to increase her anticipation for the lesson’s continuance. The instant she and Tristan were alone again, she always jumped back on the table, eager to pick up where they’d left off. Roaming hands and all.

Finally Tristan deemed her flutter acceptable and moved on. “Next, we will work on your come-hither smile.”

“Excellent.” A seductive smile was something every woman needed in her man-hunting arsenal. How could she attract a man—Peter—if she couldn’t grin properly? “What should I do?”

“You must smile, of course.”

Okay. “How’s this?” The corners of her mouth lifted wide.

“No, no, no. Lips closed.” With gentle fingers, he manually moved her lips into a half grin. The heat of his fingertips sent currents of need pulsing along her nerve endings. “Much better. Now, using only facial expression, make me believe you wish to lick my entire body.”

That shouldn’t be a problem since the desire to do exactly that suddenly bombarded her! How easy it was to picture Tristan naked beneath silk sheets. Hot, moist skin. Hazy candlelight. Soft, lyrical music. Her body would inch over his, and her tongue and teeth would rake against his skin.

Tristan watched Julia’s eyes darken with dreams, the
edges of her mouth soften with desire. A hard lump formed in the back of his throat. He gulped. “That is enough.” His voice emerged hoarse, cracked. When she didn’t alter her expression, he commanded, “Blink, curse you. Blink.”

Julia blinked and the cloud of desire surrounding her cleared.

“Let’s move on to something a little easier for you,” he muttered after clearing his throat. “I have decided sensual expression is not for a beginner.”

“I failed?” she asked, her tone dripping with disappointment. “Give me another chance, Tristan. Please. I can get it right. I know I can.”

“Nay.” If she dared glance at him like that again, he would strip the clothes from her body and take her here and now, her customers be damned. “You will work on expression by yourself. Here we will work on erotic speech. Close your mind to everything else and consider what you would say to a man you desire. A man you wish to bed.”

“I’ve, uh, never been on a real date, so I’m not exactly sure what’s appropriate.”

“I am glad you have not practiced with others. Their inept teaching would only hamper your progress.” He stroked her cheek with his fingertips gently, tenderly. “Worry not. We will do this step by step.”

“Step by step,” she agreed. Heat tingled a fiery path exactly where he touched. He had such large hands, she thought, hands capable of destroying everything in their path. And yet he treated her with such care. He always kept the true force of his strength under tight restraint.

“Pretend for the moment that you are trying to seduce me,” he said.

Nervous flutters twisted her stomach, and for a moment, her tongue thickened, making any speech, especially erotic, impossible. She gulped. “I’m not sure—”

He cut her off. “We do this my way, Julia.”

“Your way.” She didn’t dare explain that his words evoked a primitive desire for the forbidden, to do exactly what he’d said and seduce him. Or that the air around her suddenly seemed sultry and lightly scented with arousal. Or that desire pooled between her thighs, and in her mind she pictured her body sinking down onto his, his eyes a mesmerizing shade of violet and passion as she rode him.

Tristan sucked in a rough breath. “You will cease that at once,” he barked.

His fierceness surprised her, and she jerked back to reality with a gasp. “What? What did I do?”

“You had donned another erotic expression. I recall expressly forbidding you to do that in my presence.”

“Sorry,” she managed. At the moment, she was acutely aware of her too-tight nipples, of the needy ache causing her veins to throb, and the way her skin felt too constricted for her bones. Suddenly irritated with him—and herself—she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Careful, little dragon, or I might take you up on your offer and suck that tongue of yours into my mouth.” Eyes blazing with heat, he tapped a fingertip against his chin. “Now then. You wished to seduce me, did you not?”

Perilous lessons, she lamented, swallowing back a bolt of pure desire. “Yeah, I wish to seduce you.”

He nodded, smiled. “Admitting your desire is the first step.”

“And the second?”

“Thinking of the words that incite sexual hunger. Words such as
cock.
And
breasts. Rapture
and
bliss.

Tides of
rapture
and
bliss
followed his words, along with images of his hands on her
breasts,
and her hands on his
cock.
She had trouble drawing in her next breath. “And what do I do with these words?”

“Use them. That is the third step. You may begin.”

“Wait!”

“If you succeed, we will work on playful bantering next.” Smug and all too sure of her failure, he crossed his arms over his chest. “If not, we will begin again tomorrow. Are you prepared for this challenge?”

“I think so,” she lied.

“Then what is the first thing you say to gain my attention?”

“I—well—I…”

“Wrong.”

“I want you?”

“Better.” He gave her a bone-melting smile of approval. “What else?”

“You make me hot?”

“And?”

Because he thought her words were pretend, a sense of freedom surfaced, deflating her reservations and eradicating her need for constraint. She stared into his
eyes, searching his soul. “You drive me wild whenever you enter a room. You make my pulse leap and my body tremble. I would say you’re tender and caring and gentle, and I feel safe when I’m with you. I would say…I would say that I want you more than I want to take my next breath.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Always Remember That You Are Nothing
More Than Your Master’s Property

S
ILENCE LADEN WITH
an undercurrent of forbidden desires stretched between them. Julia’s cheeks reddened. Why wasn’t he speaking? Did he suspect she’d spoken the truth?

Finally he cleared his throat. “That was…interesting.”

Relief coasted through her, as delicious and welcoming as his touch. He didn’t know, didn’t suspect. She almost sighed. She did grin. “Thank you.”

“Mayhap we should cease the lessons for the day,” he said, swiping a hand down his face, wiping away the beads of sweat that had popped onto his brow. The motion also managed to wipe away any hint of his emotion.

“We can’t stop now,” she said. “You promised to help me with playful bantering.”

A prolonged pause sparked the air between them.

“So I did,” he allowed. He sucked in a fortifying breath, easing the tension around his lips. “Playful bantering is an exchange of wits, with a sexual under
tone only slightly different from seduction with words. How would you begin? And this time,” he added, “I refuse to take you step by step. You must do this on your own.”

Resolute, Julia nodded. Closed her eyes.
I can do this. I can.
“Let’s do breakfast tomorrow. Should I call you or nudge you?”

His lips twitched, and he shook his head. “Try again.”

“I’m a really good cook. My specialty is breakfast in bed.”

“Now you are just being ridiculous.”

“Nice pants. Can I talk you out of them?”

“Julia, please. Are you trying to seduce me or kill me with my own laughter?”

Her voice dropped low and husky, her next words emerging of their own free will. “I don’t want to tease you with words, Tristan. I want to tease you with my mouth. Licking and nibbling your skin. Tasting and savoring your essence.”

He quit laughing.

Tristan used his body, a slight shifting of his weight and a subtle proving of his dominance, to force her back to arch. The carnal scent of his fragrance enveloped her, filled her. Consumed her. He glared down at her, pressing her even farther back. “Where did you learn to say such a thing?” he demanded.

Far from intimidated, she clapped her hands with an almost giddy pride. “I don’t know. So they worked? I actually bantered with you? Oh, this is fun. Teach me more.”

“Mayhap you are ready for a more advanced train
ing session.” Pure, molten heat, hypnotic in its intensity, stole over his expression. “What think you of that?”

Slowly her joy ebbed, and libidinous hunger claimed her. “I think—I think I’m ready.”

“We’re going to have a very erotic conversation, Julia. No teasing. No innuendos. Your goal is to lure me into your bed using everything I have taught you so far. Everything. Think you can succeed?”

God, she hoped so, but…“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t know where to begin. Will you give me a demonstration?”

“Aye.” Moving with tantalizing slowness, luring her with a deceptive sense of protection, he closed the remaining distance between them, his breath only a heartbeat way. He stood in between her open legs, caught her wrist with his hand and pressed a soft kiss upon her pulse.

She shivered, struck by the majesty of him, the rawness of his attentions.

His other palm traced up, up, up her thigh until the pads of his fingers brushed the lacy red trim of her panties. “You are honey and cream, Julia.” His lashes slowly swept downward, then lifted at an even slower pace. “Do you know why?”

Caught by his mesmerizing voice and the sear of his fingers, she barely managed to say, “No. No, I don’t know.”

“Your skin reminds me of cream. Smooth and delicious, made for licking. The more I taste, the more I must have. And your hair—” He released her wrist and tugged her long tresses from the rubber band. Every
strand cascaded down her shoulders and back. “Your hair is the color of honey. Soft, sweet honey that will caress my chest as you ride me. Your lips, too, are like honey. Succulent honey I long to savor over and over again.”

His heat seeped past her clothes, into her skin, but his words, oh, his words enveloped her in a cocoon of sensual euphoria. His eyes beckoned with knowing intent. She found herself leaning deeper into his arms, craving more, needing more.

“Now it is your turn,” he whispered, and dropped his hands to his sides.

“You’re beautiful, Tristan. The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” Yet her description lacked a sense of accuracy; wasn’t nearly enough to describe the man that she knew he was.

“Beauty is subjective and easily claimed.” Using the tip of his finger, he traced a path along her jaw. “Tell me what you see when you look at the man I truly am.”

Lure him with words.
Her eyes closed halfway, seeing him more with her mind than actual sight. “When I look at you, I see pale violet eyes that sometimes hold a hint of sadness, but always kindness. I see a gentle, compassionate warrior who is able to give more with one simple kiss than most give in a lifetime. I see an innate sense of duty that few possess. And a capacity for love that is staggering, if only you would tap into it.”

Tristan cleared his throat. “Julia—”

“I’m not finished.” In that moment, she forgot her decision to deny her attraction to Tristan. She forgot about
Peter, forgot everything except the truth. “Sometimes, when I look at you, my hands ache to move up your chest, to feel your heart beating beneath my palms so that I can assure myself you aren’t a dream, that you are real. The ache is so powerful I shake with it.”

“I imagine your hands on me, as well,” he said, his voice cracking. “Except, you move lower, to the heat of me. You stroke me until I can take no more while I do the same to you. You writhe beneath my hands, screaming your pleasure. Only then do I part your legs and slide into your wet softness, binding our bodies as one.” His half-mast gaze watched her, gauging. “What think you of that, little dragon?”

“I think—” Lord, what did she think? “You’ve taught me more than I ever hoped to learn.”

He didn’t respond. The pull between them right then was too strong. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, couldn’t move. Couldn’t form a rational thought. Time seemed suspended, and the world around her nonexistent. She heard the drum of his heart, and each beat spurred her own.
What’s happening?
she wondered faintly.

Tristan was the first to break the spell. He blinked, shook his head. He even moved two steps back and leveled her with a fierce frown. “I am sure Peter will be pleased.”

Who cared about Peter?
Kiss me,
she pleaded with her eyes. Never had a moment felt more right for loving. Nothing else mattered. Not the reasons for Tristan’s desire. Not the lessons.

But being the prideful warrior that he was, he would not kiss her if he suspected she imagined him as Peter. She read the knowledge in the sudden stiffness of his shoulders, in the flair of his nostrils.

“Mayhap we should end this lesson here and now,” he said, the words a soft growl, yet strangely distant. “And begin anew at tomorrow’s dawning.”

“Is that what you want? To stop?”

“Of course. A good teacher does not force his student to overstudy.”

Disappointment raked her, and she found herself glaring up at him. “Perhaps I’ll practice on Peter when we go on our first date.”

“He will never satisfy you.”

“Maybe not, but I’d—I’d like you to release me from the first parameter.” There. She’d said it. It was for the best; this would help end her constant craving for him and his kisses. Kisses he no longer seemed inclined to give her.

Silence.

Silence so thick it cast an oppressive fog throughout the room.

Finally he said, “That is truly what you desire?”

No. “Yes.”

“Very well.” His jaw muscle clenched and un-clenched. “From this moment forward, you are free to do whatever you wish with Puny Peter.”

BOOK: The Pleasure Slave
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