Hostage Of Lust (6 page)

“You ready, sweetie?” His voice is a sexy drawl that makes my nipples stiffen.

“Ready,” I croak, thinking,
as I’ll ever be
.

The paddle skims up my back, charging my skin with electric energy as it slides across my thin t-shirt. He slips it down over my sides, down my hips. As he does so, one big leg nudges between mine. Our knees touch and then our thighs rub against each other. My sex screams to be touched. My nipples are aching. I bite my lip harder, wondering when the first whack will happen, when--

Smack!

The paddle whistles through the air before it slams into my ass. A sharp sting radiates out from where it hits, and I cry out “Ouch!” He asks if I’m still comfortable with continuing and I say yes. The pain intrigues me, stirs my darker sexual fantasies I’ve never confessed to anyone. Not Ethan, not one of the bad boys I’ve dated.

He traces the paddle from my inner knee up my thigh and I tense. He promised no sex and no touching naughty bits. I fist my hands, waiting, wondering if he’ll break my rule and what I’ll do then. But just as the paddle sweeps to the mid-thigh of my jeans, he pulls it away and then swirls circles at the base of my spine.

“How’s this feel so far?” he asks, his voice husky enough to do things to me. “Tell me what it’s like for you.”

I take three deep breaths before I dare speak. “It’s … interesting. I expected to hate the pain, be afraid of it, but I don’t and I’m not. I thought the vulnerability would be freaky, but it isn’t. I kind of like it.”

He chuckles low in his throat and the paddle slips down one butt cheek. “Are you turned on?”

I lick my lips, think about my reply. “That’s what you want, right?” Realizing how my question sounds, I quickly add, “For your clients to be turned on, I mean.”

The paddle touches a band of flesh poking out from beneath my t-shirt and I feel like my skin has been seared there.

“That’s what I want.” He places his free hand at the small of my back and his heat melts through me.

I have to take my time replying or I know my voice will once more betray me. “Then, yeah.” Swallow. “I can see how this would be a turn on.”

“Good.”

The paddle leaves my butt again and I tense, waiting for what I know will follow. Almost looking forward to it. I squeeze my eyes shut and--

Slap!

It lands even harder this time. It burns and smarts and my panties are so wet now. I have to chase traitorous fantasies of Rider from my mind. Him and I in my apartment. Me tied to my headboard as he kisses and licks his way down my body.

Smack!

This time I gasp in response and my eyes fly open. I never thought pain could be so pleasurable. Oh, it hurts, make no mistake, but somehow the pain, the total surrender of my control to another, also makes me incredibly horny.

And conflicted. I’m a independent woman, and a few of my relationships in the past ended because my partner would try to control me too much. No one tells me what to do and when to do it. One guy even tried to cut me off from my mother, and he was jealous of the time I spent with my family. So controlling, dominant males tend to make me leery. One of the reasons for my swearing off bad boys. But with Rider, like this, I don’t feel threatened. I feel free and way too turned on for my own good!

Suddenly the stocks click open and cool air rushes over my skin as I’m set free. Rider stands beside me, offering me his hand.

“That’s it?” I blurt.

He gives a small laugh. “You want me to spank you more?”

The blush burns from the top of my head to the tip of my toes. “Umm, no! No, of course not. I just wondered if we were finished for today.” I can’t meet his eyes as I get out of the stocks. He’ll see I’m lying about the spanking. I just know it.

“I just want to ask you a couple more things, but other than that, yeah, we’re done.”

“Wow, less than four hours of work for great pay. I finally luck out.”

He stands on the other side of the stocks and I have to brush against him to get by. I feel that undeniable electricity again when we touch. The intense attraction I’m trying so hard to deny.

He touches my arm, running his thumb from my elbow up, stopping me. “You can always work overtime, you know? I’d be happy to spank you longer.”

This guy is far too male and far too sexy. I think about kissing him, rising up on my tiptoes and claiming those soft, sensuous lips, but I know exactly where that’ll lead. Instead, I follow him to a table where we sit and discuss what we’ll practice next time. When I leave, I find those damn butterflies are back, and this time they’re all about anticipation.

***

Read an excerpt from a sizzling Wild & Lawless release
Surrender To His Game
by Anita Lawless.

Surrender To His Game

(Surrender Series Volume 4)

By Anita Lawless

A car arrives at the dorm promptly at 8 am. I’m taken to Damien’s office downtown, where I meet the P.I. he’s hired to take the case--a Gina Sparks--and I’m finally convinced the danger my sister is in is for real.

Then I head to the resort alone, and my stomach ties in enough knots to make a macramé plant hanger.

Before I left, Damien and Gina filled me in on how I would be going undercover inside this resort. The staff there think I’m being transferred from another Surrender establishment, and they have no idea I’m not truly a part of the sex geared corporation. We need to keep my true identity low key, because we really don’t know who we can trust inside this place. The whole resort is being investigated, and Damien informs me one of the top board members, a Dmitri Nichvalodov, is helping to head the operation to expose the embezzler / kidnapper.

The car pulls up to looming wrought iron gates that part to give us entry. Through the tinted back windows, I gape at the sprawling 50 acre resort grounds. The driver stops near a fountain that marks the center of a circular, cobblestone driveway and lets me out.

I’m ushered inside a gothic stone mansion that reminds me of something out of an old horror film, only less gloomy. Once inside, a smiling man in a double breasted blazer leads me to an office where I wait.

A woman with a pile of chestnut curls enters and greets me.

“Hello.” She extends a hand, which I shake. “I’m Wanda Ellerton. Please have a seat.”

I choose one of the two lush red chairs placed on the opposite side of her glass desk.

“Well, Mistress O, it seems your reputation precedes you. We already have a client interested in contracting you.”

Mistress O is my undercover name, and I already know who the client is that she refers to. My throat tightens and I hope I look calmer than I feel.

“That’s wonderful,” I say, trying not to choke on the words. “I’m anxious to meet my potential employer.”

She slides some paperwork closer to me and I scan documents detailing what will be expected of me and a personality profile for Damien Walters.

“He used to work for Surrender,” Wanda tells me. “Damien has an excellent record with us. He was in high demand as a dom before he signed an exclusive deal with one of our prior clients.”

I nod and pretend to be interested in this information I already know. Time is ticking away and the true test of my acting abilities is yet to come.

“I’ve no complaints about anything I see here,” I say, pointing to the papers. “I’d love to meet him.”

“I’ll tell Rhonda to send him in.” She gives her secretary the go ahead and the knots in my stomach tighten more. Dread leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

The door opens moments later and in walks Damien, all swagger and sophistication in a slate grey suit that molds to his body perfectly. His black hair is slicked back and he has that dangerous look that makes me swallow hard and breathe a little too fast.

He greets Wanda first, then turns his eyes on me. I don’t miss how they boldly rake over my hip hugging black slacks and red blouse. My face heats and my temper starts to simmer.

“Mistress O.” He extends his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard many stories about your talents.”

He brings my hand to his lips, sweeping a kiss across my knuckles. Then he flicks his tongue out over the top of my fingers, tasting my flesh and making me inhale sharply. Damn the impudent bastard!

“Thank you,” I say, trying to keep my irritation out of my voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Master Damien. I’ve looked over your contract and I find your terms suitable.”

He grins a Cheshire grin that gives me an odd kind of ache right in the center of my chest.

“I’m pleased. But before we sign anything I’d like to look you over.” He clasps his hands behind his back and continues to pin me with that smug, confident stare.

I want to slap his face, but that would spoil the ruse. And he is in his rights, damn him, to demand this. It’s part of the contract, much to my chagrin. All I can do is relent.

“Of course.” I try to sound confident and experienced in this situation.

Wanda sits down and watches us.

She’s going to stay in the room while he inspects me like a side of beef? My pulse now rushes in my ears. My face is so hot from a combination of embarrassment and anger I’m sure I’m the color of a tomato.

“Please remove everything but your bra, panties, and stockings.” He grabs the other office chair and positions it at the side of Wanda’s desk. Then he sits back in it, props his ankle on a knee, and waits for me to strip.

I bite the side of my cheek to keep from screaming curses at him. Then I try to remain calm as his eyes feast on me while I unbutton my blouse, though I can’t rid my fingers of a slight shake.

An artificial breeze from the air exchange system skims over my skin, raising tiny bumps. My instinct is to cross my arms over my breasts, which spill over the top of my lacy bra cups, but from what I know of the BDSM lifestyle I don’t think an experienced sub would do that. So I resist the temptation to cover up and avoid his scrutiny. To make matters worse, Wanda regards me like I’m an oil painting hanging in a museum. To say I’m embarrassed is putting it mildly.

“Turn for me,” he commands, twirling one finger.

I bite my bottom lip when I’m not facing them, vowing I’ll get revenge on that smug jerk for this humiliation. One day.

Once I’m facing them again, Damien unfolds his long body from the chair and saunters toward me. His eyes never leave mine as he does so, and my nostrils flare as I fight my temper and to breathe evenly.

He walks around me and his blazer grazes my bare skin, sending shockwaves of sensation through my hyper aware nerves. Primal instinct screams at me to wrap my hands around his corded neck and squeeze, but I fight that wrath. I grit my teeth, waiting for him to touch me, knowing that he will. My treacherous libido carves it, my practical brain dreads it.

His hot breath fans my neck as he leans in and inhales the perfume I wear. He moves closer and his lips almost brush my ear. I can smell his cologne now--a clean scent that reminds me of the sea. I lick my lips and realize my sex is growing damp. My whole damn body is declaring mutiny on me!

When his wide, warm palm touches my wrist, I jump, hoping Wanda doesn’t notice my flinch. His fingers sweep up my arm, and the higher they climb the harder my heart beats.

Then he does the unexpected. He gives my nearly bare ass a sharp smack as he circles me like the predator he is.

I want again to slap his face, maybe grind the spiked heel of my stiletto into the toe of his Gucci, but for my sister I hold back. I keep an image of her face at the forefront of my mind to strength my resolve and lessen my reaction to him.

“Very nice, sweetheart,” he whispers close to my other ear before he stops in front of me once more. “I can’t wait to see you naked.”

I bite my tongue hard and look away from his chiseled face.

Asshole!

“Mistress O, I think you’ll make the perfect sub.” He brushes some red curls from my shoulder and I try not to shiver.

“I’m glad I please you,” I say, using the same tone I use on difficult professors at school.

“Wonderful,” Wanda says, opening a drawer in her desk to remove two keycards. “After you’ve signed the papers, I’ll have Emile show you to your room.”

Our room, I think, and it hits me. Of course, to keep up our ruse, we’ll have to share a room. Just great. I’ll be trapped in a lavish bedroom in a sex resort with Damien.

Emile arrives in his tight shorts and little else. He wears a bow tie that reminds me of male strippers I once went to see with Sasha. He gives us both a knowing grin before he turns and leads us from the room.

“I’m not going out there like this,” I whisper to Damien, holding him back when the doors open.

“Darling, you’re supposed to be my submissive,” he drawls in my ear. “Doms often parade their scantily clad playmates through a Surrender resort. Hell, they’re usually naked. You’re getting off lucky. And you want to act the part so we can get your sister back, right?”

I grit my teeth. “Yes.”

“Then walk.” To add further insult, he slaps my ass again as I inch forward.

Inside I’m fuming, and I want to whirl on him and spew curses, but instead I focus on Emile’s muscled, oiled back and follow him and Damien out of the room. I plot revenge as I go. Once this is all over and my sister is safe, I will find a way to get even with this arrogant dom.

We head up a staircase carpeted in red and stop after we pass a few doors. I’m thankful few people see me, but my whole being heats with humiliation when some male and female members walk by and give both me and my dom an appreciative perusal.

Emile leaves us and wishes us a pleasant stay. Damien swipes the keycard through the silver lock and lets us inside.

The door clicks shut, sealing me in alone with him. A sense of doom and anticipation bloom in my stomach.

He walks toward me, and when his hand encircles my elbow, I blurt, “I’m not sleeping with you.”

Damien chuckles that damnable chuckle. Then he pins me with a smoldering gaze as he brings his face closer to mine. “Here’s something to think about. We need to make this good, convincing. For all we know, there could be spies inside this resort, reporting to David or Drake. Whoever our embezzler is. This room could be wired.”