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He kissed her cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you.” There was a tiny click, and then cold metal locked around her throat.
A collar. Only one of his subjects had ever worn a collar like this—the one in the painting at the Raine Estate. It had been a white metal with rows of diamonds going around the band. None of his other women had been painted in anything like it. Some of them had worn collars and various restraints, of course, but they were black leather with rings—standard fetish wear only. Nothing worth noting. From the moment she’d seen that painting with the jeweled collar, she’d imagined that woman must have been special to him. That she’d belonged to him.
“Is this the same collar...?” Despite her fear and ambivalence, she hated the idea of being nothing more than a placeholder for someone else—an inferior copy. She didn’t want to be his forgery.
“No. I sold that when she left.”
Quill held up the open box. There was a mirror inside. Saskia ducked to get a good look. No, it wasn’t the same. It was a white metal like the collar in the painting, but instead of several rows of small glittering diamonds, these were black stones.
“They’re black diamonds. They don’t sparkle much, but it’s understated and elegant. You can wear it anywhere and with anything. And you will.” He closed the empty box and set it back on the sofa.
Saskia gasped when his hand moved between her legs, a finger pressing inside her. Without conscious thought, her hips began to move, seeking deeper penetration.
“I knew you’d be wet when I finally touched you.”
She was sure he was about to bend her over one of the sofas and fuck her. She didn’t believe he’d put aside that urge even for a day—despite his speech on the subject. Unless, of course, he thought she’d be begging for his cock within the next few hours. What an ego.
Before she could learn whether Quill meant any of the words he spoke, they were interrupted by a woman much closer to his age than Saskia. She was attractive and polished. Saskia had the sinking fear he was married—or at least romantically entangled with someone else.
It wasn’t as if she were in the position to bargain over the nature of his interactions with other women, but still.
Wouldn’t Saskia have taken any piece of Joseph Quill on offer? When she’d met the assistant, she hadn’t cared who else he might be fucking—only that she might get to be among that number. It was embarrassing now to realize what a groupie she’d been. And still was.
Quill’s hand remained buried between Saskia’s legs, leaving no question as to what was going on. He didn’t attempt to hide his behavior. She tried to twist out of his grasp, as if fleeing the room or hiding would cause the stranger to unsee what she’d just seen. But Quill held her tight and whispered a firm, “No,” in her ear.
She stilled.
“Sir, I apologize for interrupting. I’ll come back.” The woman barely spared a glance to Saskia.
“It’s all right, Lacy. What was it you needed?”
“I know it’s earlier than anticipated, but dinner is ready if you’d like it.”
“That’ll be fine. We’ll eat at the table.”
The woman nodded and disappeared back to another part of the plane.
When they were alone again, Quill spun Saskia to face him. “You willnevertry to pull away from me again. I don’t care where we are or who is watching. You will never deny me.”
Her gaze lowered. In spite of everything, she couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing him now. “I’m sorry, Master. I... I thought you said it was just us.”
“Obviously, it’s notjustus. We’ve got the pilot, the co-pilot, and my cook. But we’re down to a skeleton crew. Lacy will stay out of sight and out of the way. She’s got something going on with the pilot, so she’ll be preoccupied. Marcus would have been on top of us the whole flight, which is why I sent him back commercial.”
“Oh.”
He might want Marcus out of the way, but no doubt the man would see her many times in compromising positions. Marcus was good-looking. Not as good-looking as Quill, but he was rocking the bald-security-guy look. Even the idea of him seeing her like this or hearing her address Quill in such a degrading way made her face flame.
Clearly everyone in Quill’s employ knew about his kinks.
He raised the finger that had been inside her and pressed it to her lips. “Taste yourself.”
Saskia opened her mouth and sucked her juices off the offered finger.
Quill crossed to a small closet and removed a long sheer purple robe and helped her into it. “Let’s eat.”
After dinner,Quill returned to the living area. He ordered her out of the robe, and once again the fear surfaced over what was next, if she could handle it, and if they might be interrupted again. No matter what he said, Saskia didn’t think she could cope with sex—or whatever things he intended to do with her—in public. It was scary enough thinking about what might happen between them in private.
She waited.
