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“Anything I should know?” Daniel asked. His heart raced a little faster, his blood warmed.
“She’s well-trained. Her safe word is ‘Stalin.’”
“Stalin? Really?”
“Nothing kills the mood faster than bringing a genocidal maniac into the bedroom. She’s not in love with pain, but don’t be afraid to be…” Kingsley paused for effect. “…thorough.”
“Thorough,” Daniel repeated, the word causing his groin to tighten pleasantly.
“Enjoy your lunch. I’ve already had mine.”
“Then what’s that?” Daniel nodded to the end of the hall where a young man—pale and handsome and at least ten years Kingsley’s junior—waited outside the door to the master bedroom.
“Dessert.”
Kingsley and his dessert disappeared into the room, leaving Daniel alone with Irina.
He stepped into the bedroom and shut the door behind him.
For a full minute, he stood directly behind Irina so he couldn’t see her face. Her hair was a shade too light and the body a bit too willowy, but if he wanted, he could almost pretend this beautiful submissive was…
No. He stopped his thoughts in their tracks. He’d done that to Eleanor the first time they’d had sex. He’d closed his eyes, pretended he had Maggie back. Now he regretted the lost memory of his first time with her.
“Irina. Russian, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sir.Was there a word in the world sweeter to his ears than that one? And to hear it in a soft but slightly sinister Russian accent sent a little thrill of satisfaction through his entire body.
“My mother’s family was Polish. Fled their home country during the war. Do you want to guess why?”
“Better weather, sir?” she asked, a tremor in her voice that might have been a laugh in disguise.
Daniel grinned at the back of her head. He took a step toward the bed, then another. He gathered a fistful of her long dark hair and held it firmly.
“They were fleeing the Russian Army.” He brought his mouth to her ear. “But don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you.”
“You can if you want to.”
He almost laughed. Kingsley did know how to pick them, didn’t he?
Slowly he ran his fingers up and down the column on her spine. Such smooth, soft skin. Unmarked, untouched… She hadn’t been beaten in a long time. Not a professional submissive then. An enthusiastic amateur, he hoped.
“I usually don’t beat a woman on a first date.” He forced her head to the side and exposed her neck. Gently he bit at the pulse point beneath her ear.
“I wouldn’t worry about that, sir. It’s not a date.”
Daniel laughed softly in her ear.
If he trusted himself enough, he’d cover her from neck to ankles in welts. But he hadn’t played with pain in a long time, and he worried he’d cross the line if he let himself go. Maybe soon, but not yet.
Instead, Daniel assaulted her neck and sculpted shoulder with kisses. He traced a line with his fingers from her neck, over each full breast, and down her stomach. Cupping her gently between the legs, Daniel fondled her smooth bare labia, stoking the heat coming from inside her. He found her clitoris with his fingertip and kneaded it gently.
Irina inhaled sharply, and he gave her ear a quick nibble before pulling away and leaving her panting.
Daniel glanced around the room. He’d never played in here before, but that wouldn’t be a problem. He already knew where everything was. Next to the bed—king-size, of course, as everything in Kingsley’s townhouse was king-sized—he found a crystal bowl filled with an assortment of condoms. Under the bed, he found three large leather suitcases, color-coded. Silver for bondage. Black for sex toys. White for pain. He wanted the white case but pulled out the silver case instead. Maybe he wasn’t ready for the crops and floggers yet, but he’d been rappelling up and down mountainsides for months. Ropes and knots? That he could handle.
He didn’t speak to Irina as he dug through the silver case. With her face away from him, she couldn’t see what he was doing, what he was choosing. Daniel bit back a smug grin—okay, so maybe he did like a little mindfuck after all.
