XXX - 145 Enslave: The Taming of the Beast (6 page)

Chapter Five
“You missed a spot.”
Nadia glanced over at him, a smile already on her lips. She looked polite, inquisitive. Like an employee at a hotel, eager and willing to somehow make sure his experience was exemplary.
He grinned. She didn’t fool him for a moment. She was many things, but subservient never made the list.
“Where?” she finally asked, her voice several shades of sweetness. As if nothing on earth would please her more than to clean up after him.
He nodded over to the bookcase. She moved with careful precision, using the feather duster in one hand to brush away the imagined dirt. It was a painfully slow process, given the fact that she had a spacer bar over her shoulders, with both wrists attached at either end with leather restraints. The bar latched to a collar rigged around her throat.
It was a joke, sort of. He still hadn’t quite forgiven her for the paring knife incident. Granted, there was absolutely no way she would have been able to kill him with the paltry little weapon. Still, it was the thought behind it.
There was still a standing, open hit out on him, had been for the past three years. He’d be damned if he got capped in his sleep by a pretty little brunette amateur because he’d gotten careless and let his dick do his thinking.
She dropped the feather duster. She sighed softly, then got down on her knees, carefully maneuvering to awkwardly pick it back up. The position—kneeling, naked, with the black spacer bar spreading her arms—was unbelievably arousing.
That hadn’t exactly been the point, either, but he certainly wasn’t complaining about the results.
When she got back up, he noticed another nice side benefit of the bar. It forced her to arch her back slightly, her breasts jutting forward in delectable presentation. She smiled slowly, a smile full of promise, and she looked down, hiding her eyes with her thick fringe of lashes. God, she was beautiful.
He went hard in a rush. He was a walking erection these days, he thought ruefully.
That, also, hadn’t been part of the plan.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” she drawled, her voice low and husky and inviting. She shot him a look that was calculatedly coy.
What are you up to?
“I don’t know,” he drawled. “I guess that’s all for today.” He forced himself to sound bored, even though a careful look would obviously show the stiffness straining against his fly. He walked up to her, quickly removing the wrist restraints and unlatching the bar from her collar. He left the collar on, though. It seemed to go so nicely with the black patent leather heels she wore.
And of course you’d notice that, you idiot
.
He was about to send her away, when she walked a little too close, her hip brushing against him. His hand shot out involuntarily, catching her wrist. It was barely a grip, but she stopped immediately.
“Yes?” she breathed.
He leaned down, close to her face. “You’re planning something,” he murmured, smelling the sweet perfume that was obviously pure Nadia. “You’re plotting.”
“Am I?” Her look of innocence was still belied by the piercing intelligence in her eyes.
“I don’t underestimate people,” he said, and found himself stroking her arm. Her skin was so unbelievably soft. He circled her shoulder with his thumb. “Trust me, I’ll never underestimate you.”
He was looking at her face when he said it, and something about that statement made her features soften, just for a flash. She cleared her throat. “I’m just a silly woman,” she demurred, and he could sense the drop of bitterness her contradiction contained.
He shook his head. “You’re brave enough to face me,” he pointed out.
“Maybe just foolish.”
“That, too,” he agreed, grinning when her eyes snapped to his, glinting with irritation. “But strong. And loyal.”
What would it be like, to have her loyalty?
She shrugged, but he held her chin. He looked into her eyes, and she didn’t try to turn away. “Beautiful, too,” he breathed against her throat.
He hadn’t meant to say, or do, any of that. He released her, taking a careful step back. She was intoxicating—distracting. He needed to get some space.
But as he started to turn away, he noticed something. Her dusky rose nipples were hard, excited. If he looked carefully enough, he could see the slight glistening of wetness between her thighs.
She was wet.
For him
.
He didn’t speak. He couldn’t think. He simply stripped off his shirt, shucked off his pants, and reached for her, naked as she was.
He waited. She paused for only a moment before stepping into his embrace, pressing her breasts against his chest as she tilted her head up.
He kissed her harshly, the taste of her drugging him as his hands roamed over the soft skin of her stomach, the gentle curve of her hips as they flowed into her torso. He reached up to feel the crushed silk of her hair beneath his fingertips, weaving his hand in her locks to pull her closer, making the kiss deeper. She didn’t shy away. Instead, he shuddered as she molded herself to his body, his cock nestled against the planes of her stomach. She was smooth, hot skin and need. Her hands slid up his chest, reaching up to his shoulders, gently scoring the skin with her rounded nails. He growled, wanting to devour her. Forcing himself to slow down, to savor every sensation.
He’d had beautiful women before, but not like this. Then, it had always been about his prowess: the subtle feeling of triumph, followed by the not-so-subtle feeling of the letdown as he inevitably left. Those women had looked at him as a sort of prize, or some wild beast they could capture and tame. He’d had no problems using them and leaving.
Then, Alexis…and the ultimate payback for his capriciousness. He winced, pulling away from Nadia as the memory jolted him out of the moment.
Nadia made an irritated sound of protest, pulling him back against her. Was she acting? He wondered at her hunger, at her sheer sensual honesty—and at the fire he’d seen in her eyes. He admired her for her courage, even as he resented her nobility. At first, he’d taken pleasure in trying to break her.
Now, he was simply taking pleasure.
She hooked one leg over his pelvis, trying to angle herself up. He felt her damp curls pulling against his thigh, and any sense of recrimination or caution flew out the window. The animal in him was unleashed—it had to be fed.
The floor was hard, but he didn’t care. He stretched out on his clothes, tugging her on top of him. She parted her legs easily, straddling him, impaling herself on his rock-hard length. She lowered herself slowly, by inches. He growled in response to the pleasure coursing through him.
“Dominic,” she breathed, raising herself on her knees, then lowering herself.
The feel of her wet heat stroking over his cock like a tight mouth was maddeningly sweet, intensely wonderful. His hips tensed and flexed. He reached up, stroking his palms over her hips, her waist, until he cupped her breasts, kneading them gently, tweaking the nipples. She trembled, and the sensation of her body shimmying against his was almost enough to make him come. He clamped down, forcing himself to focus.
She covered his hands with her own, making his actions a little rougher, a little harder, and he shivered, then frowned. She slammed down harder on his cock, driving him deeper into her, and he groaned again in the face of unbelievable pleasure. The little minx was driving him mad.
Letting out a little sound of impatience, she grabbed one of his hands again, then deliberately smacked the palm against her ass.
His eyes flew open, and he stared at her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
She looked stubborn…insistent. She arched her back, and he could feel his cock stroke against the lining of her pussy wall. She pulled his hand back again.
“Don’t…” But it was too late. She slapped his hand against her ass again, hard enough to make his palm tingle with warmth. She moaned softly.
Was she…no. She couldn’t be enjoying it.
Could she?
He tamped down on the wild delight that the thought sent through his body. She was smart. He’d been “punishing” her, using fetish accoutrements. She was upping the ante: trying to show him that punishing her wouldn’t work if the subject enjoyed every second of her degradation.
Damn, she’s brilliant
.
But he’d been playing games longer than she—and he wasn’t about to be defeated.
He slapped her ass, lightly, just enough to hold a slight sting. He grinned as he did it, looking at her in challenge.
She didn’t notice. Her eyes were closed, and she shivered, her motions against his cock growing quicker, jerkier. Her breasts still jutted out at him. He leaned up, taking one of the nipples in his mouth, suckling softly, circling the hard little rock of her nipple with his tongue. Then he spanked her again, a short, sharp stroke, as he caressed her nipple.
Now she let go with a full throated moan of pleasure as her pussy clenched around his. He felt the flood of wetness trickling down his cock, and he shook.
She came. She came from the dueling sensations of pleasure and pain. She was still shaking, her body clenching against him in waves, her eyes closed, her face drenched in pleasure.
He sat up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. His cock was buried in her so deep he couldn’t stand it. He wove his fingers into her hair, tugging gently, then more firmly. She gasped, exposing her throat. He pulled her tight against him, rocking her cunt over him as he sucked hard at her neck. She wriggled as if struggling, and he slowed his pressure, wondering if he’d gone too far.
“More,”
she yelled, her hips gyrating wildly against him.
He sucked hard, his hips pumping furiously against her. She clawed at his shoulders, screaming his name as her nipples dragged against his chest. She bucked against him, and she shrieked in pleasure as the next orgasm overwhelmed her. It was enough to shove him over the edge, into oblivion. He almost bit her as his climax shot through him, and he crushed her tight against his chest, groaning loudly against her skin as his hips jerked hard against hers with his release.
In the aftermath, they sat like that, on the hard floor of the solarium, entwined around each other, his cock buried deep inside her. Her head collapsed against his shoulder, and he held her tightly, as if he never wanted to let her go. He started kissing her shoulders, her throat, the valley between her breasts. He started kissing her mouth, slowly. He didn’t want the sensation to end.
What the hell are you doing?
He stopped abruptly. It had felt so good—so amazing.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered to himself.
She opened her eyes slowly, her entire expression sleepy. “What?” she asked.
“Damn it. You’re a fucking Oscar winner, aren’t you?” He felt anger swirl through him—not at her, but at his own stupidity.
For a second there, he’d really wanted to believe it. Wanted to buy that she wanted him. That this was a different situation.
“You really thought you could manipulate me,” he said, and his words grew sharper. “You thought that…”
“Oh, shut up.”
His mouth fell open, stunned. “What?” he asked, his voice low, dangerous.
She shifted her weight a little, his cock still buried inside her. It felt spectacular. She cuddled against his chest. “Sometimes I think I hate you,” she said softly, her voice low and husky, her accent slightly more pronounced. “And you’re right not to trust me. I don’t trust you. But I will say, sex with you is…” She paused, as if searching for the right words.
“Sex with me is what?” he fished, then clenched his jaw.
Amazing? Mind blowing? Incredible enough to make me forget the crazed, impossible situation we’re in?
Wonderful enough for me to wish we had a different relationship altogether?
“Well,” she said bluntly, “it’s better when you don’t talk afterward.”
He couldn’t help it. He laughed in shock.
She got up off him, and he felt bereft at the loss of her warmth. She sighed, her expression pragmatic—perhaps a little sad. “You probably know more about sex than I will ever learn, no matter who I sleep with. Everything you do, you do with a purpose.” Her clear hazel eyes were unbelievably old for someone so young. “I have no illusions anymore, Dominic.”
He hated it, he realized. Hated seeing that wounded look in her eyes. He’d wanted to break her.
Well, now he had.
“So that’s it, hmm?” he said, forcing a casual tone. “You’re just giving up?”
He waited. She still looked pragmatic…but her eyes suddenly flared.
“I’d die first.”
The words, said so simply, caused him to grin. He felt his chest warm with something he couldn’t recognize.
“Well, before that,” he said dryly, getting up and picking up his clothes, “why don’t we have dinner?”
She shrugged. “Whatever you want, of course.” And there was a ghost of a smile, hovering around her full lips.
He escorted her to the kitchen, still grinning, even as he realized that he was starting to like his enemy, his prisoner, just a little too much.

The redheaded assistant met Jelena at the door of Phillipe’s house. This time, she wasn’t led to an office, but to a bedroom. It was Las Vegas opulence, something that might be showcased on one of those rich lifestyle programs that Irina was so enamored with. It was a den more than a place to sleep, complete with a fireplace-dominated conversation pit surrounded by pillow-ensconced curved couches, what looked like a small swimming pool, and of course, the requisite enormous bed, covered in peach-colored silk.
Perhaps he’d decided that her ability to get her hands on cash gave her some small modicum of power, she thought. Perhaps she had enough power to tempt him sexually.
She doubted it.
Phillipe stepped out of a side room, looking well dressed as always, although a bit more casual. He wore a charcoal shirt with no tie, and black slacks. He looked like he’d just stepped in from a GQ shoot. He smiled at her.
“Punctual. I appreciate that.” He sat down on one of the couches, gesturing to her to do the same. “Now, this should be interesting. How can you teach power? Others have asked me, but never in quite so straightforward a manner.”
She wanted to scream at him. She wanted to tear his hair out. Nadia could be dead by now.
Nadia is in trouble, and all you want to do is play these stupid games?
She knew better. She smiled demurely.
“You said that I’d need power if I were going to save my sister,” she murmured. “You said power was more than money. It was determination.”
“The willingness to do what others will not,” he said, gesturing to his assistant. Silently, she brought him a glass of a dark red wine, then offered the same to Jelena. Jelena turned it down, her stomach knotting. “What are you willing to do, Jelena?”
Jelena frowned. “I’ve had sex to get money,” she said.
“That’s not necessarily power.” His eyes gleamed over the rim of his wineglass. “That could be simply desperation.”
She should have brought a gun, she thought idly. But she got the feeling he was brave enough, and stupid enough, not to back down.
Killing him would not help Nadia any. More’s the pity.
She shrugged in response. “It’s a step,” she conceded. “What would I need to do? To become powerful enough to take down an enemy, and protect what’s mine?”
Help me, you supercilious bastard!
He smiled, sipping slowly, as if he knew every second he wasted shredded more of her nerves. “You’re right in one thing,” he said. “Sex can be a form of power. Can you understand that?”
Jelena closed her eyes, remembering the feel of Robert, pressing against her, his cock plunging inside her. “Yes,” she breathed.
She opened her eyes to find Phillipe smiling at her. “Yes, I think you can, now.”
He motioned his assistant forward.
“This is April,” he said, and her smile was small and sharp, almost mischievous. “I’ve been mentoring her for a few years now.”
Jelena studied the girl. She had a pretty face: appealing, sensitive, rather American. Her hair was a burnished red, full of loose, ringlet curls pulled back in a ponytail. She looked like a grad student. Jelena got the feeling this was a cultivated façade.
April was more than she appeared.
“Perhaps you could instruct Ms. Granville tonight,” Phillipe suggested.
April’s responding expression was sharp. She walked to Jelena, stroking her shoulder.
Then she knelt in front of Jelena, her smile widening. Up close, Jelena could see April’s eyes, a cool, periwinkle violet. There were even a few freckles riding high on the apples of her cheeks, at the corners of her eyes.
April’s fingertips brushed the sensitive flesh on the inside of Jelena’s wrists, urging her forward. Jelena gasped, looking at Phillipe in surprise and dismay.
His face was completely impassive. He simply sat there, watching.
April moved closer, lifting herself until she was at eye level with Jelena. She moved closer, and Jelena could smell the cinnamon on her breath.
“Am I supposed to…” Jelena couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence. Good grief, what sort of perversity was this? What in the world would this do to help anything?
April shook her head, as if discouraging Jelena from speaking. She leaned forward, her mouth near Jelena’s ear. “You’ve seen it yourself: men like to fuck, and will sacrifice a lot to do so. Women do, too, but we’re smarter about it. Sex is a form of power,” she said, her voice too husky to be academic, despite the lecturing quality of her speech. “When you know what you like, and know how to perform with someone you’d never expect to, then you’ll use sex as a tool and not as a price.”
“That makes no sense,” Jelena protested, then fell abruptly silent. April’s fingertips moved between Jelena’s thighs, stroking the inner flesh with a maddening, butterfly-light touch. Jelena swallowed, her heart rate jumping frantically.
“Shhhh.” April’s fingers delved a little higher, stopping short of Jelena’s underwear. She leaned in, her breasts brushing against Jelena’s arm. Jelena could feel April’s tightened nipples dragging against her.
Jelena sent one last puzzled, frustrated glance over at Phillipe. He smiled smugly.
He wanted her to fail, she realized. This
was
all a game for him.
Something inside her snapped. She felt determination, like her chest was forged from iron.
Jelena stood up, and April followed her. April was shorter, though not by too much. With determination, Jelena leaned down, kissing April gently. To show she would. April’s lips were smooth and soft, unexpected after years of kissing men. She pressed forward a bit more insistently. April’s tongue moved forward, tracing her lips, slicking over the sensitive inner flesh. Jelena parted her lips, allowing her more easy access. Then she traced her tongue over April’s.
April moaned softly with approval, her hands moving forward to gently rest on Jelena’s hips, pulling Jelena against her. Jelena felt a tingling awareness between her legs, a little twist in her stomach. She was not repulsed.
Quite the contrary
, she realized, and pushed the thought aside.
April pulled away, her violet eyes dilated, her breathing a little bit quicker. Her catlike smile was quick and hungry. She took Jelena’s hand, leading her to the giant bed. Phillipe followed, like a ghost, shadowing their progress. Jelena ignored him, keeping her focus on the girl.
This would serve a purpose
, Jelena thought. He would continue throwing hoop after hoop at her—to see where she would balk, where she would refuse. When she’d finally gone to the breaking point, he might throw her a bone. Or, he might not.
She stared at April. This woman, though, knew all of Phil lipe’s plans. Had access to all of his contacts. She was young, and obviously she’d been mindfucked by Phillipe for years. She was malleable. Vulnerable.
She could help me
.
Jelena’s answering smile at that thought just may have surprised April, because she blinked, her sexual confidence bobbling for the slightest second. Then April regained her composure, moving her hands up, caressing Jelena’s breasts. Jelena pushed her chest forward, into April’s caress, making a soft moaning noise as April’s fingers stroked gently. April smiled more easily now, moving closer, her breasts touching Jelena’s as she leaned down to tug up Jelena’s skirt, revealing the tops of her stockings and her panties. Nipping at Jelena’s collarbone, she maneuvered until she nudged past the elastic of Jelena’s underwear, reaching past her curls. She stroked Jelena’s clit.
Jelena gasped, involuntarily moving backward, stumbling onto the bed.
Focus, dammit!
April snickered. In a chair nearby, Phillipe chuckled softly.
“When you fucked to get your money,” April said, “did you just lay there, let him do what he liked?”
Jelena felt her cheeks burn. “Not exactly,” she hedged, then frowned when April sent her a disbelieving look. “More or less.”
“Then he gave you the money because he felt sorry for you, is that it? Because you
begged
?”
“No,” Jelena said, realizing it was true. “I seduced him.”
April stretched on the bed next to her. “Did you come?”
Jelena shook her head. It had felt good, fucking Robert, but doubted she would have been able to come, given the circumstances. Though for a moment there, she’d really hoped…
“You don’t need to come every time,” April said, “but if you can, why the hell not?”
Jelena grimaced.
Can’t we just get on with this, without all the commentary?
But no…April thought she was the master here, especially with Phillipe looking on. This was some sort of test for April as well.
This time, Jelena had to do more than simply get some money from a besotted young fool. April was clever, predatory. It would take more than simply lying back and thinking of her duties to impress this one.
Jelena took a deep breath, anger and adrenaline making her shake. Then she leaned forward.
Coax. Convince. Seduce
…
She kissed April more gently this time, her lips barely brushing April’s, then she moved out, kissing her jaw, her neck. April sighed with approval. Jelena took it as a sign of encouragement, and reached up. She hadn’t handled another woman’s breasts before. April had slight breasts, smaller than her own: like apples, high and firm. Jelena kneaded them gently, knowing how much she, herself, hated it when Henry manhandled them in his eagerness. She stroked the nipple, circling it with her thumb. April’s sigh was breathier now.
It was easier, Jelena realized, once she focused on what she, herself, enjoyed. If she were to be seduced, she wouldn’t want it to be by someone clumsy, or forceful. Though she’d enjoyed the novelty of fucking someone other than Henry, her encounter with her accountant had been exciting mostly because of the thrill of doing something illicit. This had that element, too. The fact that April was a woman added a different sort of taboo.
April moved forward, molding her lips and body against Jelena, and Jelena accepted it, her own breasts tightening, her thighs dampening with anticipation. She hadn’t slept with a woman before, but she got the feeling this wouldn’t be quite so bad.
In fact
, she thought,
this might be amazing
.
April made a little impatient whimper, her hand stroking down, reaching for Jelena’s skirt. Jelena reached behind her, undoing the button and zipper, pushing the skirt away. She reached for April’s slacks, stripping them off until both women were in blouses and panties. Then Jelena unbuttoned her silk blouse, letting it slip off her shoulders, tossing it to the floor. She tugged April’s knit top over her head. April’s eyes were low-lidded, and her breathing was uneven as she stared at Jelena expectantly, trying to hold on to her impassive expression. Failing, as her face showed the pleasure that was starting to course through her system.
Jelena felt a little smirk of triumph, and quickly hid it by leaning down, burying her face in April’s cleavage. April’s nipples jutted against the lace of her cream-colored bra. Jelena took the little hard tip into her mouth, suckling softly, tracing it with her tongue.
April moaned, her back arching, her breast pressing more firmly against Jelena.
Taking her cue, Jelena sucked harder, cupping the other breast in her hand as April’s head rolled from side to side. Then, taking a deep breath, Jelena reached down, pushing her fingers past April’s waistband. She met only smooth skin: April was shaved completely nude, her narrow slot already thoroughly damp. Curious and unsettled, Jelena nudged her finger, feeling April’s slick knot, already a hard bump against her fingertip. April’s short, sharp inhalation switched to a low moan as her hips lifted, nuzzling against Jelena’s fingers. Jelena put her fingertips on either side of April’s clit, caressing it firmly.
“Yes,” April muttered. “God,
yes
.”
Then April nudged her onto her back, taking off Jelena’s bra and panties, as well as her own.
April moved her hands against Jelena’s breasts caressing them, kissing first one, then the other. Jelena lay frozen, unsure, still not entirely willing, though the sensations drifting through her were building in a way she hadn’t felt ever. When April moved between her thighs, Jelena let out a brief, strangled cry of protest. Implacably, April parted her legs, reaching down to the triangle of curls. She pierced them, doing to Jelena what Jelena had done to her. It was the way Jelena liked to touch herself, she realized. She also realized that April did, indeed, know how to touch. Jelena felt her legs relaxing, widening to better accommodate the woman’s magical fingers. When April continued to maneuver her clit, she pressed a finger deep inside her at the same time.
Jelena cried out, pleasure overwhelming her.
She was so intent on the sensation that she didn’t realize when April leaned her head down, licking her pussy, nibbling delicately on her clit in a way that made Jelena lose her mind. Her hips started to raise off the bed as April suckled, her fingers pressing inside, mimicking a small but agile cock.
Jelena felt heat burning through her like a wildfire. She didn’t know she could feel like this—couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt anything close. She wanted to give this kind of pleasure. Desire burned her like a torch.
“Wait,” she said harshly, her hand buried in April’s hair. April looked up, looking disappointed as Jelena started to move her away. But then she looked surprised when Jelena simply changed her position, angling herself so that April was still between her legs. But then, she was also between April’s.
She took a deep breath, then stroked the clit that was so close to her, so firm and erect. She spread April’s slick folds of skin, and carefully licked the triangular bump.
April cried out, her hips angling forward to give Jelena better access. Jelena sucked more intently, her tongue tracing the hard nubbin of flesh, her fingers moving past, delving deeper inside April. It was so strange, to feel the woman’s pussy undulating around her fingers. She tasted like cinnamon and peach.
April quickly delved between Jelena’s thighs again, and Jelena’s moan was buried against April’s cunt. April was obviously more skilled, more experienced, but as she suckled and moved against Jelena, Jelena quickly copied April’s every movement. Soon, the two of them were writhing against each other, breasts pressing against stomachs, bodies gyrating as the pleasure intensified exponentially.
Jelena felt the orgasm starting to build inside her, and she pushed her hips more insistently against April’s probing tongue. She screamed, her tongue penetrating deep inside, and April’s body shuddered in response, her orgasm exploding at the exact same time. Jelena felt like some kind of wild animal, as they shivered and clung to each other, pleasure shooting through them like electricity.