Surrender (7 page)

Suddenly, he pulled out of her and flipped her onto her back. Taking a deep breath, he left her and leaned over the nightstand.

"Lyon, what . . . ?"

"Shh, just a moment, love." He left their bed and strode to the bathroom. Isabella tried to regulate her breathing, but as he returned to her, naked, long, and fully erect, her pussy clenched with want. He knelt on the bed next to her, holding a wet cloth.

"Open your legs, darling." His voice was a soft rasp. He placed the cloth at the entrance of her mound and with a feathery touch, washed her. Their eyes met, his warm smile sending tingles through her. As she watched him, he proceeded to wash himself as well, stroking the cloth up and down his rigid cock. Isabella was moved by his care of her, but wanted him back in her arms, now.

"Hurry," she managed to murmur.

And he did. He threw the cloth to the floor and resumed his position above her, his hair a mass of beautiful long waves. She buried her fingers into those soft strands.

"Tell me what you want."

He sighed. "I want to watch you come, love."

Her legs were spread wide and her knees pushed up, exposing her heated flesh to his hungry gaze.

He entered her easily and instantly, pushing to the hilt, then rained kisses over her face, cheek, and nose, finally crushing his mouth to hers.

"I'm coming apart, Lyon. Take me now, I need you." Her voice seemed to encourage him to pump faster.

Did he just growl?

"Yes, love. Go over with me. Do it, Belle." Finally, he lifted her hips off the bed, slammed inside her, over and over again. "Come with me." She licked her lips as sensations spread like a tidal wave from the inside out. Her body quaked and coherent thought fled. She held on tight, until the silence ended and her screams of bliss competed with the distant thunder.

Chapter Seven

The scent of fresh cut roses awakened Isabella. In the bright light of day, as passion ebbed, cold reality set in.

Isabella hated herself for giving in to him.

Other than a tray holding a vase containing a single pink blush rose on the bedside table, she found herself alone in the huge, decadent bed of snowy silk sheets. The flower reminded her of last night in Lyon's arms.

She'd done things she'd never thought herself capable of or wanting to do. She had surrendered herself to him, something she'd vowed she'd never allow. But his touch had ignited a sleeping spark into a fire that burned like a fuse down to her core. Flames so bright and hot, only his touch could extinguish the blistering heat.
His mouth.
She'd begged him, screamed out his name as she had climaxed again and again, taking his body in her own, giving herself back. At his gentle urging, she'd tasted him, brought him to orgasm, and relished his cries of triumph, as he arched his back, spilling himself into her.

She'd allowed him to take her anally. Isabella closed her eyes and recalled the indescribable moment when she'd given over to the power of his body inside her. Her ass ached in a delicious way. He'd done what he set out to do. Possessed her, claimed her, made her feel.

She inhaled deeply and smiled. Her eyes captured a small, fishbowl-shaped vase, filled to overflowing with sunshine yellow roses. Yellow roses symbolized friendship. Did this mean he'd forgiven her?

Where was he? She heard distant barking beyond the terrace doors and knew where she'd find him.

Wrapping herself in a silk robe that lay nearby, she padded toward the doors and peered out onto the vast lawns.

Dressed all in black, her dark angel wore jeans, a t-shirt, and his black hair was tied back. The dogs seemed to be in ecstasy as he wrestled and frolicked with them on the grass. He looked like a carefree boy, rather than a solitary man with only his animals to keep him company.

But Isabella knew better. Lyon seemed tortured, a dichotomy open and agreeable one moment, closed as a vault the next—gentle with her body when the mood suited him and then wild the next. Something inside him craved to possess her, to have her surrender to his every need.

But true to his word, he hadn't hurt her. From the first time she'd met him, she thought him an intense man, sexy, and powerful. He'd cast a spell over her last night. Her body had come alive and then came apart in his arms. Was that why did this suddenly seem like so much more than just a business arrangement?

* * * * *

He could sense her watching from the terrace. Her soft, lush body wrapped within the confines of the slinky robe he'd left at the foot of the bed. And he wanted her again.

Entering the house, he grew hard just thinking about the night before. He'd demanded her submission, her surrender, and she'd given all she had. Couldn't she see through his sarcastic barbs, realize how much he loved her?

Not yet, my darling, but you will.

He found her sitting on the bed, legs crossed. His heart raced as he watched her braid her long hair over one shoulder. Those agile fingers had touched him and brought him pleasure beyond comprehension.

Suddenly, he just wanted to talk to her, to share time with her.

"Tell me about your shop, A Rose is a Rose."

She swept the thick plait over her shoulder. "You really want to know?" He nodded.

"Why?"

"Because it's part of your life, a part of you."

Isabella nodded and slid to one side of the bed, where he joined her and reached for her hand. She entwined it with her own.

"Well, my dad and I bought an abandoned ice cream parlor. The refrigeration was a plus for the shop, and since I have a degree in botany and have always had a love of flowers . . . ."

"You certainly seem to be enamored with my garden."

"Yes. Especially your roses, which are by far the most beautiful I've ever seen."

"Have you just given me a compliment, Isabella?"

Her smile grabbed his heart and held on for dear life.

She nodded. "I guess I have."

"Thank you." He moved behind her and undid her braid. How on earth did she get her hair to smell like roses? He began to kiss her, starting at her hairline, inhaling all of her.

Isabella tilted her head into his caress. "What about you, Lyon? What about the past five years?"

He sighed heavily but held her closer. "I worked hard to gain what I have. A successful business, the foundation for abused animals, a big house, several cars." He shrugged and placed his forehead to hers. "And there's been no one since you've been gone Isabella, no one."

She remained silent, but wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Make love to me, Lyon."

He continued his journey down her soft cheek to her lips, opening her mouth and plundering the depths, while her tongue darted out and met his. His cock swelled more and he slid her beneath him. He rose and braced himself on his elbow in order to untie her robe and pulled apart the fabric, revealing the swell of her full breasts. As he circled his tongue around her dark pink areolas, her groans of arousal were music to his ears.

"You are the most sensual woman I've ever known." He murmured in her ear.

"Your body is lush and perfect in all the right places, and I just can't seem to get enough of you."

"Stop talking and put your mouth on me, inside me." In invitation, she opened her legs for him. He licked his way down her navel, and her scent drew him to her precious core.

Her pussy swelled with moist heat. Her eyes closed and Lyon watched her grab the headboard.

"Hold on," he said.

He lifted her hips to gain better access and his tongue pierced those pink petals. Her musky scent rocked him. She tasted like sin. He sucked her clit until she stilled.

"Say my name, Belle."

"Lyon," she murmured, her head thrashing on the pillow.

"I'm here, darling, tell me what you need?"

"Take me all the way, Lyon, now. Now."

He threw off his clothes, relief washing through him as he freed his aching cock from the confines of his slacks. He slid into her wet heat in one long stroke. Her tiny gasps of pleasure fueled his arousal. He pulled back, pushed into her again, kissed her swollen lips and trailed his mouth down to her neck to her beautiful breasts. He suckled and nipped one distended nipple then the other, the taste sweet and warm.

"Tell me you want me, only me, love."

Her cries told him it wouldn't be long now. His dick slid in and out of her, and she milked him with each long stroke.

Isabella cried softly. "You, I want only you."

Yes, he'd give her anything she asked. He flipped her easily onto her stomach, raised her to her knees, held her under the hips with one arm, and parted her legs with the other.

He slid into her from behind. Her broken cry of pleasure escaped her lips, while he stroked her to completion. He bit her neck playfully, and pressed down just enough to inflict a tiny impression in her skin while he continued to piston his cock into her. Her orgasm exploded around him and he followed her into bliss, throwing back his head with a cry of triumph.

How would he ever let her go?

* * * * *

A gauzy, bright yellow sundress caressed her in the lazy breeze. Isabella stood amidst fragrant pink peonies and purple azalea bushes in Lyon's opulent gardens. A ladybug alit on her dress, seemingly content to rest on the cottony fabric, and Isabella smiled at the peace she found among the myriad of rainbow colors she'd grown to love since childhood.

Another ladybug joined the first and Isabella's thoughts turned to Lyon. This place, these roses, a castle in the mountains, all seemed like something from a fairy tale.

But fairy tales didn't exist, except for the beast.

Lyon Sauvage.

Her jailer, her lover, or her savior?

All or none?

She'd agreed to come here and he'd taken full advantage of their agreement. Why shouldn't he?

No, she admitted, as she watched a purple butterfly climb onto her finger, flutter its graceful wings, and then fly away.

Face facts. He makes me feel wanted, loved, and sexy.

Day dreaming soon turned to sleepiness. Isabella lay in the velvet grass, one hand over her eyes to block the sun. Surrounded by the sound of birds and the gentle swaying of the trees and heavenly flora, she dozed off.

* * * * *

"Did you take care of the matter we discussed, Gerard?" The voices of Lyon and his assistant, Gerard, woke her. Isabella hesitated, electing not to reveal herself. She couldn't help but catch a fragment of conversation that clearly concerned her situation.

"Yes, sir. The debt has been paid. My people took care of this Al person Thursday evening."

Isabella's heart slammed inside her ribs. Lyon had paid the debt before she'd even arrived. Why? Had Lyon been so sure she'd come to him?

"Good work. And did you tell this "Al" person it would be in his best interest if he left the state permanently?"

"One of my men personally escorted him to the state line, sir. He won't be bothering Miss Isabella again."

His audible sigh of relief wasn’t lost on Isabella. "Thank you, Gerard. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting her."

The ensuing silence told Isabella they'd left the area.

Lyon had paid the debt, saved her and her father's business, and he hadn't hurt her. He'd kept his promise.

Isabella wrapped her arms around herself, surrounded by the warmth of the summer sun. She inhaled deeply of the sweet, pungent fragrance of honeysuckle mixed with lilacs and roses.

I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting her.

She shook her head in disbelief a moment later.
How can I leave now? What kind of
woman would that make me?
The same woman who left him five years ago after he gave his unconditional support and affection, she concluded.

Yes, he'd given her an ultimatum. If she wanted the debt paid, she'd agreed to play his companion for the weekend and even have sex with him in public. She'd appeared in public wearing no underwear, submitted to his insatiable sexual cravings whenever the mood struck him.

Harboring lustful thoughts of his insatiable appetite, Isabella envisioned his hands on her flesh, causing her to writhe with ravenous passion. Her nipples tingled as they rubbed against the bodice of her sundress.

Lyon Sauvage had kept his word. Isabella realized he'd done all for her, and felt shame at the thought of leaving him. But her time with Lyon would end soon. Why did those thoughts make her sad?

She had to admit the sensations she'd experienced during lovemaking was like nothing she'd ever felt before. There wasn't an inch of flesh he hadn't consumed.
And yes, when I put my mouth on him, taste him on my tongue, I feel empowered. When
he moans with pleasure and cries out my name, I feel sexy and wanted. And when he worships
my body, slides into me so far I can feel him in my soul, I feel loved.
No, she wouldn't leave Lyon.

He'd taught her to feel like a woman, desired and lusted after by a man who seemed insatiable and with a one-track mind to bring her unending pleasure. He'd completed his part of the bargain.

Now she would complete hers.

* * * * *

She slid open his armoire with unsure hands and thought about selecting some sex toys to tease and torture him but opted against it. She closed the closet and decided that tonight, she'd just torture him with her body. After all, he'd paid good money for the pleasure.

She approached Gerard and asked him to prepare a special dinner of Lyon's favorite foods and something sinful for dessert. Gerard simply nodded, smiled, and disappeared.

When Lyon returned to the house, Gerard had prepared a sumptuous dinner of lobster, sirloin steak tips, roasted garlic potatoes, and chocolate mousse for dessert. Isabella's mouth watered as she gazed at the feast, then at Lyon's look of approval. First step, accomplished.

Suddenly, she found herself ravenous. She sat in the chair he'd pulled out for her, reached for her linen napkin, and perused the table.

Ah, Gerard had added oysters to the menu. Good.