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A flicker of regret crossed her face. "I know. Hartley told me."
Her answer ripped through him, driving the breath from his lungs. He struggled to maintain his calm expression and forced himself to ask the next question. "You didn't want me to find you again, did you?"
His razor-sharp gaze took in her pause. The seconds stretched and he waited to see if she'd try to lie to him. He almost wished she would, because he valued truth among all the virtues the most. But damned if she didn't tilt her chin up and say the cutting words.
"No."
He nodded, admiring her at the same time he took the hit.
"I wasn't ready for more than one night. I knew I was moving to Vegas and I wanted a clean slate."
"Fair enough." He made sure he sounded casual, even though his gut churned. Funny, the first time he falls hard for a woman and she had no intention of having more than one night of sex. If it wasn't so screwed up, he'd laugh in irony. "That leads to my final question. We both signed up for something tonight; something we wanted fulfilled. I need you tell me yours."
This time, she averted her gaze and began to turn. Oh, no, if they were going to do this, he was following the path all the way to the end, whether either of them liked it or not.
He snapped his voice like a whiplash. "Don't turn your back on me, Scarlett."
She froze. Her lower lip trembled, but she managed to square her shoulders and face him again. "I'm sorry, Sir."
The title knocked him back like a sucker punch. Damn her. He ignored his rapidly pounding heart and pushed on. "You will answer my question. What was your fantasy?"
Those inky eyes widened, filled with a churning mix of want and apology; of need and regret. "I wanted to feel like I did that night with you." Her voice broke. "Free. Powerful. Seen." A shudder wracked her body. "I can't go back to the way things were. Before...you. I need it again."
"You need the BDSM," he said in a clipped voice. "You need the feeling you get when you surrender."
"Yes."
"Have you visited another club? Been with another Dom since me?"
She shook her head, then caught his warning glance. "No, Sir. I joined the club Chains but I haven't played yet."
"Why not?"
"Because I've been afraid. Jonathan and Cruz introduced me to Blasphemy, but I don't know anyone here yet. I've been trying to get my nerve up."
His chest tightened. A hard, empty ball of ice lodged in his gut. Of course, she didn't want him. He could be anyone. It just so happened he gave her the first satisfying experience in the BDSM lifestyle, and she hadn't met anyone else.
She didn't miss him at all. Only his talent as a Dom.
The irony shred him to pieces. She'd haunted him for months, and now that she was finally in front of him, she only wanted him for the sex. The bond he'd believed they found had only existed on his side. His fantasy had been to find a woman just like her to fall in love with and claim forever.
Hers had been for more great sex.
He smothered the raw pain of rejection and studied her. Even now, her chin tilted up with a pride that was part of her, even as her body already seemed to soften in his nearness. Fine. He couldn't claim her heart, but damned if he wouldn't claim her sweet body and brand himself on her forever. She'd never be able to fuck another man without thinking of him. Never be able to submit to another without remembering what he alone could give her.
Shattering, mindless, blinding pleasure.
So be it.
"Do you remember your safe words?"
She jerked in surprise. "Yellow to slow down. Red to stop."
"This time, you will not forget to address me as Sir or your punishment will not be fun like the last time. You will not speak unless spoken to. Remove your clothes and stand in front of the window with your hands clasped behind your back, feet wide apart. We are officially in scene."
He began to unbutton his cuffs.
Chapter Eight
SCARLETT SWAYED SLIGHTLY, but kept her focus on the man before her to complete the task he'd given. Her body leapt to attention, greedy for everything he could do to her, but her heart squeezed with pain.
He was different this time. Cold. Distant. As if her words had ripped away the aching tenderness and left only the dominance. A lump rose in her throat but she'd been the one to make the rules. She'd left him. The flash of pain in his eyes seared her vision, and almost drove her to her knees. Dear God, she hadn't meant to hurt him. Now her actions seemed cruel--leaving him behind without a good-bye after the intimacy they'd shared.
Her gaze roved over him, greedy to savor every inch. He wore black pants and a formal white shirt with the collar unbuttoned. Slowly, deliberately, those talented fingers unbuttoned each cuff and he rolled up the sleeves, exposing the gorgeous ink on his muscled arms. His scent rose in the air, a heady combination of earth and spice, as primitive and sexual as the man. With his face uncovered, she noticed his nose had a slight bend, as if he it had once been broken. Stubble clung to his chiseled jaw and emphasized the fullness of his lower lip. His features were craggy and a bit rough, which only added to his sensuality. But it was his eyes that held her mesmerized; a swirl of smoke and ash; fire and ice; emanating a fierce energy that shimmered from his aura and pinned her helplessly in place.
He'd given her an order.
She needed to obey.
Her trembling hands tugged off her tank, and she had to wriggle the skirt down over her too wide hips with a little shimmy she prayed was halfway sexy. He watched her under heavy lidded eyes, then held out his hand. She gave him her clothes, then walked slowly to the window. A shiver bumped down her spine at the feel of the cool air over her bare skin, kissing her nipples and contrasting deliciously with her already heated pussy. She felt his gaze probing, sweeping over her nakedness, and she walked proudly, remembering his pointed lesson of believing in her own beauty.
She clasped her hands behind her back, parted her legs, raised her head, and lowered her gaze to the floor. Then waited.
Silence settled in the room. She stood patiently and had no idea how long had passed before the air stirred and his shoes appeared in her vision. Her nostrils flared when she caught his scent. Her skin pulled tight and she tried hard not to squirm as arousal throbbed in her core. The raw vulnerability as she stood before him, like a prized possession, thrilled her. Her busy mind slowed and her world began to shift, narrowing to this moment.
"I own your orgasms. I will tell you when to come and how many times. If you please me, you may get this." He stroked his cock, hard and long and tenting his pants. Her mouth watered. She'd never been overly enthusiastic about blow jobs, but the thought of her kneeling before him, her tongue stroking him to release, his rough hand guiding her to exactly how he liked to be pleasured--shuddered through her in raw, primeval need. As if he caught her thought, he made a murmur of approval and circled her like prey.
His hands stroked down her spine, cupping her ass, then dipped between her legs to spread her wide. His thumb played with her hard clit and his index finger sunk inside her, stretching deep, wresting a moan from her lips.
"You're very wet," he said in satisfaction. "Do you like being on display for me? Knowing I own every inch of this body--every wet, greedy hole and every strand of hair on your head belongs to me. Do you enjoy waiting to see how I'm going take you, with my tongue or fingers or my cock?"
"Yes, Sir."
He slipped out and began to probe her ass, his thumb playing with the tight hole where no man had ever been. Her muscles tightened, but he kept up the pressure, slipping into her up to his knuckle. A blast of pain melded with a strange, sinking sort of pleasure--a dirty, shameful heat flushing her skin. "Have you had someone take your ass?" he asked in a dark voice.
"No, Sir."
"It's better I prepare you for the next Dom. He'll want to take that pretty ass and own it."
Her mind rebelled at the thought of a stranger penetrating her there. She only wanted Leo to introduce tha
t type of pleasure. But she kept quiet as he walked away. She heard the slide of a drawer, and then he returned to stand beside her. The squirt of a bottle cut through the air, and she shifted slightly.
A sharp slap vibrated against her ass. "You will stand completely still at all times."
"Yes, sir," she gasped. Tingles shot through her, but her mind was too distracted by what he was doing behind her. Oh, God, her ass probably looked huge from this angle, and if he made her bend over what if he thought--
Another slap shook her. She gasped at the sting.
"Do I need to demonstrate how I feel about this body, Scarlett? Or would you like another lesson?"
"N-no, Sir."
"Give me the words."
She closed her eyes but forced herself to say it. "My body is beautiful."
"That's correct. Now, I'm going to plug this beautiful ass and admire my handiwork. Bend over and grab your ankles. Then you're going to take three long, slow breaths."
"Yes, Sir."
He assisted her with a firm hand pressing her back down. Her mind fought the image of her ass stuck in the air, while a different type of heat uncurled inside, spreading out like licking flames. Something hard pushed through the ring of muscle, and she took another deep breath, trying to accept the invasion rather than fight it. He worked the plug back and forth, slowly and deliberately, and on the final breath, the muscles gave way and the plug sank all the way in.
"Very nice."
Oh, it was strange. Like something foreign had invaded her body, and didn't know whether to push it out or pull it in deeper. She wriggled slightly, and then he tapped the plug and vibrations spilled through her lower body. Oh, that felt good.
