Surrender to Temptation (23 page)

“Continue.”

I tried to stand, to ease the sudden ache between my own legs, but the sound of his caressing voice had me dropping back into the chair.

“I want to sit on the edge of your desk, then bend over to take you into my mouth. I would be able to taste you as I sucked on your cock, deep in my throat. You would groan. Then you would pull my hair with one hand and spank my bare ass with the other, just to show me how much you want me.”

“And how do you feel about that?” To the other person in his office, Zach likely sounded as though he were discussing nothing more than the details of a client meeting. I had heard the sounds his voice made when he was driven beyond control, however, and so I was able to detect the very slight hitch in his breath that told me he wasn't nearly as calm as he was pretending to be.

It gave me confidence. Sliding a hand up to fondle my own breast, I rubbed lightly, and when the nipple pebbled beneath my fingers it was because, in my mind's eye, it was Zach's hand on my skin.

“The touch of your hand on my skin would make me want you as much as I always do.” My voice came softer now; the words that I spoke had no pretense. “I would be wet, just from your touch, your taste.”

I heard him inhale, just the slightest bit. I had no idea how he was remaining so composed. My skin had heated to the point of fever, and I ached all over.

“This is true.” His words were an admission. He knew exactly how much he affected me. Dammit, he knew that I loved him.

I wished he could open up and tell me how he felt in return.

“I wouldn't be able to take it anymore. I'd have to slide from the desk into your lap. Taking your cock in your own hand, you would push into me until I cried out because you had filled me completely. Then I would move. I would ride you in your desk chair, completely bare to you, until I felt your hips arch beneath me and your heat spill inside of me.” My hands shook on the phone. I wanted this so badly to be reality that I could almost taste the salt of his musk on my tongue.

“And you?” His tone was still light, still matter-of-fact, but I could hear the seriousness that belied the question.

If it were real, I knew that he would make me come.

It wasn't real. I didn't know if it would ever be real again.

“I would slide off of you once you were done. I would get dressed and leave, because this was a gift for you.” The heat inside of me cooled rapidly as my emotions began to overtake me again. My tease had become much more metaphorical than I had intended. “I just want for you to be happy.”

Dammit, I could
feel
his hunger, his need for me, permeating his silence. Attraction wasn't the problem.

He didn't love me back, and he couldn't simply accept what I wanted to give him.

“Good-bye, Zach.” Not waiting for him to reply, I replaced the phone in its cradle. Finally overwhelmed by the events of the past twenty-four hours, I gave in. Laying my arms on Mrs. Gallagher's desk, I buried my face in them and cried.

•   •   •

T
he tsunami of tears had done me good. As I entered the parking garage that evening after work, I felt . . . well, I still felt as though I had been hit by a semitruck. But the hopelessness had abated somewhat. I would get on with my life.

Regardless of what he said, after that phone call, I knew once and for all that I had the power to affect Zach. He cared for me, and whatever his reasons were for rejecting me, it didn't have anything to do with me.

And I had given it one last shot. Now I could try to move on without regret—
try
being the operative word.

I still craved him with every fiber of my being. I hoped that would pass.

Opening my car door, I had just decided that I deserved ice cream and wine for supper, and that I would dine in a steaming-hot bubble bath, when I caught a shadow from the corner of my eye. I shrieked and jolted, my ankle folding in my high heel and sending me pitching forward.

The next thing I knew there were arms wrapping around me tightly. Then I was lifted into a strong embrace. I screamed again, looking across the lot to where the parking attendant should have been.

The small, gray-haired old man was gone. In his place was Charles, and though the man's face held a hint of sympathy, he didn't look as though he would be coming to my aid anytime in the near future.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” I shouted the words at the hard planes of Zach's back, since I was draped over his shoulder unceremoniously. I relaxed immensely as soon as I realized it was him, but frustration and fury quickly replaced the fear. “I can walk, damn you.”

“You're coming to my house.” Then he didn't say anything more.

I upped the intensity of my kicks when we passed Charles, who held open the door to Zach's private garage to let us pass.

I scowled at the older man. He looked away.

“Did you consider asking me whether or not I
wanted
to come to your house?” I tried not to enjoy the sensation of Zach's rock-solid body pressed against mine. It was even more pleasurable when he slid me along the length of him until my feet touched the floor. I tried to break away, but he tightened his grasp and pinned me to the side of the car with his hips.

He was fully erect, and the heat of his rigid cock pressed into my belly.

“I considered it. Then I decided that I wasn't in the mood to care one way or the other.” I gasped with outrage. As I sputtered, Zach opened the door to the backseat of the car, then lifted me from the waist and nudged me inside. I didn't cooperate, and wound up on my knees on the hard floor, my hair tangled around my face, my cheeks flushed.

Zach climbed in after me, and after he calmly—gracefully—settled himself on one of the bench seats, he surveyed me as I glared up at him.

“You started this.” His reminder was calm, but didn't take much fight out of me. I had so many things that I wanted to say to him, but I couldn't even find a place to start.

“It's like that, then, is it?” Bending, he grasped the neckline of my cardigan and pulled. Bits of the plastic buttons went flying, skittering into the corners of the car, and then the sweater hung open, baring my breasts.

“You have a choice. We can talk, or if you're not in the mood for conversation, you can suck my cock. The decision is yours.” Those long hands of his loosened the dark purple silk of his tie, and then with another lightning-quick move he pulled me against him, tugged my arms behind my back, and looped the length of silk around my wrists securely.

I was stunned, and also aroused.

“I thought you said I had a choice!” My mouth was dry as I spoke. I knew, deep down I knew, that if I really wanted to I could refuse both choices and demand that the car be stopped, that I be let out.

I also knew, and Zach knew, that that wasn't was I truly wanted.

“The choice is yours.” He smirked a bit, looking down at me seductively, though his eyes were deadly serious. “But even if we're going to talk, I like looking at you like this, arms bound, breasts thrust forward.”

I moaned softly, not able to hold the sound back, given my extreme arousal. Pressing my lips together in a tight line, I nodded toward his lap. “Open your pants.”

His expression darkened as I spoke, and my pulse skittered.

“You don't get to make the rules here, little minx.” The warring emotions and arousal in his eyes, the clenching of his jaw, told me that I was moments away from being pulled over his knee and spanked until I couldn't move.

Wetness surged through my pussy at the very idea.

“Fine. Open your pants . . . sir.” I thrust my chin forward defiantly. Zach raised an eyebrow, his face shadowed.

“Keep it up, little brat.” Lifting his hips off the seat, he undid the buckle of his belt and then released the zipper. The metallic rasp grated on the air.

The sight of his hand on his cock as he pulled it free of his pants sent heat crashing through me in a tidal wave. As usual, he wore nothing beneath his pants, and so there was nothing to hinder my mouth when he leaned back on the leather bench seat, splaying his legs so that I could crawl between them.

I shivered as I looked up at him. Now, more than ever, I was struck by his dark beauty. His face, his body—everything about him appealed to me on a level so basic that it felt stamped into my very DNA.

“Take me in your mouth.” Zach kept his hand wrapped around the base of his erection, holding it out for me. With the other, he guided me across the floor of the car on my knees, keeping me from losing my balance when Charles, safely secured behind the privacy panel, started the car. Zach caught my shoulders with his hands, then helped me to settle between his legs.

When I closed my lips around the head of his cock I shut my eyes in surrender. The taste of him flooded my mouth and soothed the emotions that had been scraped raw.

“Yes.” As if our feelings were connected, I looked up to find satisfaction and relief emblazoned on Zach's features. He laced his fingers together at the back of my head, his touch light but enough to hold me in place.

Our eyes met and a surge of emotion jolted through me. I had thought never to see him like this again, yet he sought me out after I placed that teasing phone call to him.

I began to suck, hollowing my cheeks out. Though his breath quickly turned from shallow to raspy, he held still, apart from the occasional upward flex of his hips when I lightly scraped my teeth below the head.

I was at his feet, my sweater torn open, my hands behind my back, Zach's cock in my mouth. Still, I had never felt more powerful. Determined, I continued my ministrations, though my jaw was beginning to ache and my throat burned.

“Devon, stop.” I could tell that he was nearing climax when the muscles of his thighs tensed. It was what I wanted, so I ignored him and continued to work his cock with my mouth.

The hands on the back of my head tangled in my hair and pulled me back. I had no choice but to let his erection slip from my mouth. I hissed, feeling the sting from the threads of hair he tugged on.

“You're adding to your punishment, minx.” He was slightly out of breath, but still managed to make me shiver with the heavy promise in his words.

The shivering turned to a full-on shudder when he spoke again, and I realized that, by teasing him with my phone call, I had awakened the beast.

“I'm not going to come until I'm deep inside of you. Until then, your body is mine.”

“W
hat the hell is that?” Zach had refused to remove his tie from my wrists. After helping me from the car, he had lifted me into his arms, my head cradled against his chest, and carried me through the garage and into the house. I was thankful that Charles had disappeared beforehand, because though I was sure he knew what Zach and I had been up to in the back of the vehicle, confronting him with my smeared makeup and torn sweater was far beyond my comfort zone.

So was the wooden contraption that Zach had placed me down on my feet in front of. Resembling a picnic table without the wide, flat top, it came to just below my waist and was padded and covered in dark red leather.

He didn't reply, and I looked over to find him staring at me with displeasure. Immediately I understood that I was in trouble. When he channeled the dominant side of himself—well, the
more
dominant side—he became larger, darker, relentless.

This was the Zach that I saw now. My ass was still tender from the night before, so I was quick to drop my eyes to the floor.

“I'm sorry.” Still, I couldn't stop myself from glancing back up at the table with wary eyes.

“I'm sorry.
What
?” Zach had shed his suit jacket and now undid the top few buttons of his shirt. The result was that while he still seemed dangerous, he looked slightly more relaxed.

Relaxed and ready to play.

“I'm sorry, sir.” The faintest hint of pleasure curved his lips as he stalked toward me. My nipples bunched into tight peaks before he even touched me. He saw and inhaled with satisfaction.

“What is your safe word, Devon?” I knew him so well that the intense stare he directed my way felt like his hands on my body—so much that when his actual fingers touched me it was as if two men caressed my skin. He pulled my damaged sweater off of my shoulders, then flicked open the front clasp of my bra and did the same.

“Dark.” As I spoke he slid my sweater down to join the silk tie, adding an extra layer of restraint, my torso left bare.

“Very good.” Tracing a hand up my inner thigh, Zach cupped my moist heat through my thin panties, then slid one finger in and out quickly, testing my dampness.

“Where is the bracelet?”

I blinked, trying to make sense of the question, and clear the fog of lust that had fallen over me. Zach repeated the question impatiently. “The bracelet that I sent to you this morning. Where is it?”

“Um. In my purse.” Turning on his heel, Zach moved to the leather satchel that he had carried into the house with me. I grumbled to myself as he delved into its contents—a woman's purse was supposed to be private.

I watched as he found the small gold box, then pulled the bright link of sapphires from it.

Returning to me, he fastened it around my left wrist, above where the silk of his tie still bound me.

“You didn't answer.” As he fastened the bracelet that I still hadn't decided I was going to keep to my wrist, I pushed at him. Dangerous, but I had to know. “Zach, what is that . . . that
thing
?”

“You are permitted to ask questions about the toys I am going to use on you, so long as you use a respectful tone.” A minor chastisement. I was far too distracted by his fingers, which ran along beneath my hip, where my legs met my pelvis. He hooked his fingers in the slim elastics at the sides of my bikini briefs, and I cried out when he yanked down hard, tearing them off of my body.

“That is a spanking bench.” The scraps that had been my panties fell to the floor, followed by my skirt, which he unzipped in one sure motion. Completely bared to him, I felt his eyes caress me when he looked the length of my body.

“You are going to be punished for your impertinence in making that phone call today, followed by the minor infractions of your resistance in the car and your rudeness right now.” My mouth fell open, stunned as I always was when he spoke to me as if he were preparing to spank a toddler. “This bench makes it easier, and more enjoyable, for me.”

“I—” I started to protest, but snapped my lips shut when I remembered that he would just add to the punishment. Pressing my lips together tightly, I swallowed my grievance.

“Very good. You're learning.”

Then I forgot what I had been upset about when he stepped closer and claimed my mouth with his own. His tongue teased the seam of my lips, making me moan, as his hands ran a heated trail up and down the sides of my body.

“Now. Onto the bench.” A sound of disappointment escaped me when he broke the embrace, turning me and, with a hand pressed flat against my bottom, positioning me over the thing that he called a spanking bench.

My entire body tensed.

“You have your safe word, Devon.” His words were reassuring, but his hand pressed me forward until my torso lay vertically down the bench. “You have the power to stop this at any time. If that is truly what you want.”

I inhaled deeply, willing myself to calm down. His words weren't a magic wand—they didn't make all of my fears disappear. The things that he had used on me before—the cuffs, the martinet, even the paddle—had seemed small compared to this. He was asking me to give up every shred of power that I had, to be bound and restrained and more vulnerable than I ever had before.

I was terrified, and I was aroused. I also understood that this may be the opportunity I had been waiting for.

If I could be vulnerable to Zach, then maybe he would see that he could be vulnerable to me.

“Okay.” I heard the slight tremor in my voice, and scolded myself for it. I could do this.

I trusted him. That was the entire point.

“Good, little minx.” Zach stroked his hand down my back softly, tracing my spine, as I finally stopped fighting it. I arched into the touch like a kitten being stroked. “You can trust me. You know you can trust me.”

Right
, said my mind.
So said the wolf to Little Red Riding Hood.

And I was right. Soon after he had me warm and all but purring beneath his hands, I felt something cool placed at the width of my waist. I stiffened, placing my hands on the narrow expanse of the bench, and tried to look back at what he was doing.

The cool object was a leather restraint of some kind. Within moments he had me bound to the bench at the waist.

“I don't think I like this.” My nerves sped up again, as did my breath.

“Slow, deep breaths, Devon.” I wanted to curse at him. He wasn't the one being strapped to the bench. “You can do this. The whole point of being bound is to force you to give up control.”

Another strap went around me, at the top of my rib cage. I balked to find myself bound, immobile from the waist up. I was strapped firmly to the heavy wooden bench, not so tightly that it was uncomfortable, but it was still strange. Unfamiliar.

The cool leather pressed into my breasts and cheek; the restraints were a heavy presence on my back. I could touch the ground on the balls of my feet with my legs spread, and flatfooted if they were together.

I jumped when I felt his warm hand close around my ankle, urging my legs to spread again.

“No!” My voice was sharp, but Zach kept on, strapping my left ankle to the leg of the bench, then moving across to do the right. “Didn't you hear me? I said no!”

I heard him stand, his steps moving to the side of the bench to which my cheek was turned. He crouched, coming down to eye level with me.

“Are you using your safe word?” His face showed no expression, as if he didn't care one way or the other.

But I knew he did.

“No.” My voice was curt. I trusted him, but I wasn't comfortable, nor was I enjoying myself.

“All right, then.” Encouragement flickered over his face before he stood, moving back to the end of the bench. I heard the loud smack reverberating throughout his bedroom moments before I felt the palm of his hand on my left buttock.

“Ow!” I tried to move away from the sting.

I couldn't. I was bound, and at his mercy.

“If you're staying, then no more complaints. You will give yourself to me entirely, mind, body, and soul.” I swallowed hard, a delicious thrill finally beginning to work itself throughout my body.

I didn't know why, but I loved it when Zach took control.

“Do you remember this, little one?” He moved to where I could see that he held the small leather tool that he had had me deliver to his office the day he first gave me a taste of his lifestyle. That day seemed like a lifetime ago—so much had happened since then.

“Yes.”

Before I finished speaking, he was growling at me, and I cleared my throat and hastened to say the rest. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” He returned to the end of the bench, and I knew that he was studying the bare curves of my behind. I tried to squirm, frustrated when I couldn't move.

“I am going to use this on you, Devon, as punishment for that phone call today.” A noise of protest left my throat before I could stop it, and I bit my lower lip quickly, cutting off the sound as quickly as I could.

“Do you have any idea what it was like for me, sitting there in a meeting with Glen, while you said those things in my ear?” I had a quick mental flash of the expression that would have crossed the face of the man who had hired me if he had known what was going on in that phone call. “From the moment you said hello, I was harder than I've ever been in my life. I wanted to come and bend you over your desk, wanted to fuck you right then and there, no matter who watched us.”

Flames begin to lick along my skin.

“I had half a mind to put you on speaker phone, just to shock that nervous expression right off of Glen's face.” Zach's voice held a trace of amusement, and a giggle broke out of me, despite my nerves and arousal. I couldn't help it.

“Think that's funny, do you?” Zach's voice was a growl. The martinet brushed softly over my bottom, teasing me with the soft tendrils of leather, only a moment before those tendrils were flicked over my flesh with medium force.

I tried to move away from the sensation, though of course I couldn't. It didn't quite hurt, but it had crossed the line past a sting. When the slinky tails of the martinet whisked over my buttocks for a second time, I inhaled sharply, trying to breathe through the sensation.

“That's it. Breathe past the discomfort.” Zach's voice had grown husky; I knew that he liked this, liked flicking the martinet over my exposed flesh and watching it grow red.

“I'm going to give you ten more blows, Devon, and each one will be a little bit harder than the last one. You're going to count out loud. Do you understand?”

I flinched. Ten? Surely that was excessive.

The martinet flicked over me again. “Every time I have to use this to get you to answer my question is a free turn.” He chuckled when I growled.

“Yes. I understand.” He didn't give me even a moment to catch my breath. The martinet came down on my bottom again almost before I had finished speaking.

“One!” The lash made my bottom burn. It wasn't as painful as being spanked, yet the sensation was more intense.

My eyes widened at the thought of another nine blows. Even through the pain, I burned with arousal.

I counted my way through, my discomfort growing with each blow. By the tenth, my voice wavered and wetness hazed my vision. I wasn't sure how much more I could take.

At the same time, my pussy grew ever wetter, and my clit burned with need. I was shaking with want. It was the strangest combination of sensations, one that Zach had sparked in me before, but never with this intensity.

“Ten!” I sobbed out the word, every nerve in my body sizzling. I was aware of my body in a way that I had never been before, and it wasn't entirely comfortable.

“Wonderful.” Zach ran his hands over the heated expanse of my backside, and I shied away from the touch, not because it hurt, but because I wasn't entirely sure I could handle any further stimulation. “Look at that ass. So pretty, so pink. You did so well. You're ready for what I have planned next.”

“Next?” I began to tremble. “Zach—I don't think—”

“You've had the pain portion of the evening, Devon.” Breath whooshed out of my lungs, an exhalation of relief. It was short-lived, because I heard Zach opening something, followed by another noise.

“Now it's time for the pleasure.” Some sort of liquid, warmed by Zach's hand, was drizzled over the expanse of my behind. I sighed with pleasure as the sultry sensation began to ease the ache of my abused bottom.

“This is going to feel intense,” Zach warned me.

I felt myself frowning, not understanding what he might mean. Intense? All I felt was delicious warmth, soothing the skin that had been struck by the martinet.

Then . . .

“Aah!” The heat hazed over with a thin sheen of ice, the dual sensations overwhelming in their intensity. My body was tense as I tried to squirm, to move, to obtain just a moment's relief.

Zach sighed with pleasure from somewhere behind me.

“Japanese mint oil. This has a few purposes for us tonight.” I cursed as I wiggled, and he chuckled quietly. His hands came to my bottom to massage the oil into my skin, and the added layer of heat nearly made me weep.

My hips tried to buck, to gain friction of some sort. He hadn't even touched me erotically yet, and I was ready to explode.

“The mint, of course, has a cooling effect. Very stimulating when massaged into the heat of a tender ass. And I want to show you it can be stimulating elsewhere, as well.” His hands moved from where they massaged my cheeks down to my inner thighs, then to my lower lips. One finger moved to rub over my clit in a firm, insistent circle.

Even without the bite of the oil, his touch was practiced, designed to bring me quickly to the edge. A strangled cry exploded from me as I climaxed in a great shuddering wave.

Zach chuckled again when I moaned weakly, the waves loosening the tension in my muscles.