Requested Surrender (10 page)

 Once her eyes adjusted, she went to the couch and read page three.

Put the papers and toy down and strip for me. Slow and sexy. I like provocative. When you’re done, leave your things where you’ve tossed them and collect the papers and dildo and stretch out on the couch. This is important. I want you to wait until your breathing slows down before you go to the next page.

The guy was a talented medium on top of everything else. As she took off her clothes the power of suggestion kicked in and she found herself seductively flinging each item, twirling her bra even, in a teasing lasso manner before she let it fly. The experience left her eager as she tried to remain calm, but her pulse wouldn’t cooperate while it sped at double time. It wasn’t until she was lying naked on the leather that she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She repeated the mantra,
you got this
, over and over. Reminding herself that it wasn’t like she hadn’t done this a million times in her own house. Maybe not the stripping part, but the rest… Yet doing it in David’s house added something sinfully wicked to the experience.

She took another deep breath and when his clean and crisp scent wrapped around her she gave up trying to downplay the situation. Yeah, who was she kidding? This was thrilling. Finally, after a couple of minutes and only when she was comfortably positioned the way she liked in order to get herself off did she put the dildo on her stomach to read the next page which was the last one.

Beautiful. Now I want you to get yourself off, but first. Turn your head to the right and look up.

Up? She snapped around and saw him. In one of the rooms on the second floor that had a perfect view into this one through the top part of the window that conveniently wasn’t frosted. She hadn’t noticed before because the section was so high. But she forgot all about logistics when she noted how still he was. He didn’t move. Only stared. Could she do this? The idea that he was there, but not, was a sobering thought. But then it occurred to her that he was a hostage as surely as she was. Suddenly the notion that she was free to mess with him gave her the courage to do it.

At least, it started off that way when she turned on the toy. With her overacting everything. Jerking upward, arching her back and groaning even though he wouldn’t hear. Dragging the dildo over her breasts, her stomach and across each thigh until she got to the center of her legs. She’d meant to play this up. Move the thrumming sex tool in a drunk-like twirl there a couple of times before heading back north to prolong her little routine, but then somewhere along the line the performance turned real and there she was giving him an honest-to-God sensual show.

 What started off as a teasing dance over her center ended with a full press, slick ride downward as she used the dildo to part her folds. By the time the curved tip reached her entrance, she was groaning. Only this time it was soft, for her ears alone as she pushed the wand inside. The vibrations rocked each of her inner muscles with delicious pulses, only now when she flexed her hips to crush into them she closed her legs. Squeezing her thighs together to capture the toy and all that it was doing to her, holding it in, loving it as she rocked and strained.

Be patient.

Those words and an image of David penetrated her mind as she twisted and moaned. Sliding her hands down her body, she massaged her hips before one hand strayed, slipping between her legs to push the dildo in deep then shifting to knead her way back up her torso. Slowly moving her palms across her belly, over her rib cage until she got to her breasts. Her nipples tightened and when her hands brushed over them she shivered. Quaked. God, the vibrations building low and deep inside her still had her gently rocking from side to side as she bit her lip. The lingering scent of his cologne was a constant reminder to her that he was there. Watching.

A wave of lust shot through her with the thought. For some reason every touch and stroke was amplified. She fought to make sense of it. Why was she aching so badly? Why was she so needy? The idea that he’d created something here with his near, yet distant voyeurism, came to her. She’d always considered herself a performer. At least with her other partners, but they’d been close to her. Next to her. Not like this. Either that or she was on her own and at those times she never gave much thought to relaxing. She always assumed that she did, but now consciously remembering to slowly breathe because he’d told her to, gave her a different perspective on things.

A languid sensation curled up from her toes, over her knees, thighs and belly. Hugging her in sensual warmth that rushed back down to her center swirling there before racing over her lower limbs in a wash of thrilling euphoria. That’s when it came to her. She was doing more here than pleasing herself. She was pleasing him by pleasuring herself. Not to turn him on, but to make him happy. Why did his being happy with her mean more to her than her being happy with herself?

You know why…

She flexed and all her thoughts scattered as a rush of lust-fueled excitement zapped through her. She groaned and slid one hand between her legs. Testing the sensitive flesh. Teasing the trembling nerve endings there while she caressed herself, easing two fingers through her wetness as her other hand massaged her fully spiked nipples.

She didn’t think, only did as she turned her face in his direction. The warmth of the sun drenching her through the window rivaled the sizzling fervor building within her. Slowly she opened her eyes to stare up at him and when her gaze locked onto his, the world around her fell away. There was only the two of them. Separated by physical distance, but brought seamlessly together in this stunning and intimate moment. The raw need was real. Unshakable. Triggering an authentic reaction as she brought her palm out from between her legs and lifted her hand to her mouth. This wasn’t an act and she wasn’t performing as she licked her glossy fingers in a series of steady, but long, dragging passes. Treating them like she would his cock. Rimming her lips with her slick fingertips before inserting those digits inside. Slipping them over the hot, velvety surface of her tongue and greedily sucking them in hard, firm and deep. Groaning low in her throat with the knowledge that he looked on.

The tang of her desire, combined with the heat she spied flaring in his eyes as he stared down, caused pleasurable goose bumps to race over her skin. The prickles made her restless and when she jerked up, riding the wave of accelerating lust stirring to life inside her, the vibrations became more intense and she cried out. Desperate to keep her eyes on him, she worked hard to stay focused. It was as if he knew how hard she struggled. He pressed his splayed palm against the glass as though he’d be able to make it disappear by sheer will and close the distance between them and that’s when she lost it.

Her fingers slid out of her mouth while she cried words she didn’t recognize. With legs quivering and eyes squeezed shut against the frantic craving to come, she panted, hoping to work through it. Pivoting and straining. Breathlessly swearing she could hold it off. A few more seconds, she could do it. Now both her hands were between her legs as she fucked herself with the vibrating dildo. Pushing it in and then slowly pulling it out. Over and over. Provoking. Teasing herself into a frenzy before she insert the phallus in deep one final time as she screamed and came hard, hot and wet all over it.

Pulse racing. Heartbeat speeding. She fought to catch her breath as her body jumped with a series of little jerks while she enjoyed the ebbing tide of pleasure. She licked her lips and swallowed. Amazed at the sound of her blood pumping like rushing water in her ears. She took a few deep, cleansing breaths and then everything fell into silence. Just like last night there was an intense sense of peace that wrapped all around her. A calmness that settled within her. It shouldn’t be this way. David was all wrong for her. His home and lifestyle were traps she’d steered clear of and yet here she was feeling completely and utterly satiated. With a satisfied sigh, she gave up worrying about it. If this was wrong she didn’t need to be right, but then when she opened her eyes and turned to feel the burn from his gaze again—that kind of sizzle was addictive—he was gone and when he didn’t arrive at the library door?

She tried not to be disappointed. What had she expected anyway? That he’d turn up and fuck her brains out?

Damn straight.

By the time she pulled it together enough to get up and collect her things, she was over feeling sorry for herself. She didn’t need that to feel appreciated. That thought made her grip the dildo tighter, and caused her to stare at it until it became a blur. She wasn’t the kind of woman who needed attention, was she? No. She did what she did, when she wanted to and then she left.

Wanderer.

“He’s getting in your head,” she muttered to herself. If there was one thing she’d learned really well from her friends, it was that these guys—Doms—knew a thing or two hundred about messing with a woman’s right to be completely insane and/or wacko, if she wanted to be. Lacy didn’t think she was perfect, by any means, but she was happy. At least as happy as she could be…

She stopped right at the bathroom door and scowled. Now she was justifying her feelings? Forget that. She had a home. A good job. Friends. What’s not to be happy about?

Hm, good question.

Hell. She made her way into the bathroom and unceremoniously dropped the dildo into the sink before she quickly got dressed. Once she was presentable, she cranked on the hot water to let it heat while she had a look around.  Nice tile, wallpaper and granite. She was in the process of taking it all in when her eyes landed on the neat grouping of items to the left of her.

Well, well, well. Would you look at that? A bottle of toy cleaner, a black leather bag and a note. The latter of which she dove all over. She told herself it was because there was a smiley face on it, but the truth was, it had David’s signature scrolled on the bottom. With shaking hands she held the flimsy yellow paper toward the light and read.

Are you feeling dirty yet?

Bastard. She smiled because she was feeling all kinds of dirty. Twisting around, she took in the double shower behind her and decided maybe not that dirty.

When she turned back she spotted the white writing on the black case and picked it up to examine.

For Lacy’s “Happy Times.”

Okay, she had to admit there was a certain charm in the way the guy had turned her sarcasm back on her. Peeking into the case she would have frowned because it was empty except for another note. She was beginning to like the Post Its.

Don’t worry, there’ll be more than the one item in here within a few days, promise.

Snatching the leather case shut, she looked into the sink. Then she leaned back and peered around the doorframe into the library. Immediately her gaze latched onto the desk. And there they were. The red bag, the lube and blindfold. Leaning back in, she caught her reflection in the mirror and this time frowned. “So, what? Are you in a game of kinky Clue where you’re Ms. Scarlett to David’s Colonel Mustard? Ridiculous,” she muttered. But then spying how badly her hands were shaking, she was left thinking maybe it wasn’t such a ridiculous thought after all.

David chugged half his bottle of water and then put it down on the desk beside him, as he stared at the robot in the painting over the fireplace. Now he totally got it. Not that he hadn’t before. The message was fairly obvious, but after the instance of absolute clarity he and Lacy had shared when she’d fully opened up to him, he realized the “in your face” image was wholly misleading.

Over the course of his adult life he’d fucked, flogged, tied up and down, spanked for pleasure and punishment, hugged, bit, pinched, prodded, pushed and protected all manner of submissive females. He prided himself in committing his full attention to the women he chose to top. They had needs and he met them while filling his own. It was an even and fair exchange, or so he’d thought, but now he knew it hadn’t ever been as all those prior experiences paled in comparison to the one he’d just had with Lacy. They hadn’t even physically touched with brick, mortar and glass between them, and yet that one stunning moment had connected them deeper and more surely than if he’d been inside her, claiming her in the most basic male way possible.

He knew Lacy didn’t appreciate herself or the secrets her body held that would lead her to ultimate fulfillment. She’d discounted the power of the experience. This was why she was drawn to a man like him. She needed
him
to appreciate her. To slow her down and get her focused so she was free to enjoy those special qualities to the fullest so he, in turn, could.

There was nothing more powerful. Not one thing better to boost a Dom’s ego than being a sub’s everything. He’d asked her for everything, but this wasn’t the same thing at all. In this case he was the need in a literal sense and damn, it was empowering. Scintillating. Dangerous because now that he’d got his first taste of it, he wanted more.

Much more.

Chapter Eight

David opened the library door an hour later and stopped. He’d intended to go in and invite her to lunch until he saw what she was doing. Or not doing, as she was breaking more rules by not cleaning the albums. Instead she sat on a step stool reading one of his books. From this distance he couldn’t make out the title. He’d kill to know what held her enthralled. She hadn’t even noticed him.

As quietly as he could, he stepped back into the hall and closed the door. If he’d gone through the threshold as planned, he would have had to say something about this to her and he wasn’t prepared to mete out consequences to infractions yet. Not yet.

Quickly he shot off a text to Alastair to call him and then waited. After his phone rang twice he picked up and heard his attorney say, “You rang.”

“Yes. Hi. Listen, sorry but I deleted that email you sent. What time did you say the event starts tonight?”

“Event? It’s more than that. You are the guest of honor, after all.”