Braden (9 page)

Elisa’s brows shot up. “All of them?”

Braden relaxed enough to chuckle. “Yes, love, you’ll have to
wash your own dishes and cook your own food. You send them away. You recode the
keypad on your door and you send me the code.”

“Why don’t you just come over when I get home?”

“Doesn’t work that way. Don’t expect me. You do what you
usually do, and don’t look for me. All right?”

Elisa clearly didn’t understand any of this, but she nodded.
“All right.”

“Good. Remember, send me the key code.”

Braden touched the disconnect, which was a little easier
this time. His body knew that things were moving where they should be moving.

He smiled. She wouldn’t be able to resist watching out for
him, waiting for him, anticipation of his arrival building up hour by hour,
minute by minute. Her wanting would build up with her impatience and her
nervousness. The power of the level three had already begun.

Braden groaned, got himself out of the chair and went to
take another cold shower.

* * * * *

Elisa went home after her shift, told her staff she was
giving them a vacation to the cool mountains, all expenses paid, and sat back
to wait for them to go. She only had three servants in the house plus Alonda, a
far cry from the twenty who’d waited on her at her mother’s house. Four
servants, to the Way of the Sky, was simplicity.

Alonda gave her suspicious looks and offered to stay and
look after Elisa by herself, but Elisa remained resolute. The others were
overjoyed with the unexpected bonus, packed their bags and hurried off.

“Call me if you need me, m’lady,” Alonda said before she
went. “I can be back here in an instant.”

Elisa promised distractedly and sent her away.

Elisa knew how to prepare her own meals and clean her
clothes—she’d learned self-sufficiency at the retreat center. Even if she
weren’t certain about her choice of celibacy and her spiritual convictions, she
was grateful for some of the lessons the Way of the Sky had taught her.
Self-discipline and independence weren’t bad things.

She changed the code on her front and back door locks and
sent the codes to Braden. He didn’t answer the terminal—she left a message.

Elisa spent the next three days trying to behave normally
and failing. She went to work each day, half expecting Braden to appear there.
She jumped every time the front door hissed open and every time anyone male
entered the library.

Braden never came.

She tried to call him on the evening of the second day, but
he didn’t answer. Elisa keyed off, leaving no message.

On the third day, she had to stay late for a meeting of the
library board. The event with the art museum had gone off well, and the board
discussed what to do better next year. Tired after that, Elisa walked the few
blocks between library and home, hoping the cool night air would refresh her.

It didn’t. She was sweating as she entered her house,
pulling off her robes down to her silk sheath. She unpinned her veils and let
her hair fall down her back while she searched the house for Braden.

He wasn’t lurking in the sitting room or the hall, the
kitchen or the servant’s quarters. She checked every room, but Elisa was still
alone. Sighing, she ate a light supper, bathed and went to bed.

In the middle of the night she woke, her heart racing.

The air had changed, something subtly different.

A warm hand on her wrist made her jump, and then the weight
of a hard body pressed her to the mattress. A padded manacle replaced the grip
on her wrist, snapping snugly in place.

“My librarian.” Braden’s breath whispered on her cheek. “I’m
here to teach you so many bad things.”

Chapter Eight

Elisa shivered, hard. “What things?”

Braden pressed fingers to her lips. “No questions.” His
voice was stern. “You trust me, or I leave.”

It wasn’t in Elisa’s nature to not ask questions. She drew
another breath, and his fingers grew heavy.

“You trust me,” he said. “Do you?”

Elisa waited, debating whether she did, then she nodded.
After all, she’d been the one who’d asked him to come.

He lifted her unbound hand and kissed her palm, lips
scalding. “This hand stays free. You’ve never touched a man, am I right?”

Elisa nodded again. Her heart danced in her chest, her
female places wetter than they’d ever been.

“Touch me, Elisa. Get used to me.”

In the darkness, he guided her hand to his shoulder. She
found bare skin, smooth and warm, no fabric in her way.

She stopped. Was there no clothing all the way down?
Goddess,
be with me.
Elisa glided her fingertips down his back, over the curve of
his spine, down, down.

Nothing stopped her. His breath was hot on her face, body
still, the muscles of his back sculpted from the best genetics in existence.
She stopped when she reached the firm cushion of his buttocks.

Braden’s teeth flashed in the gloom. “Keep going,
sweetheart.”

Elisa tentatively smoothed her fingers over his backside.
His skin was cooler there, even though he was hotter than a normal human. His
buttocks were smooth mounds, muscles tight. She wanted to stroke and squeeze
them.

“Touch and learn.” He smiled at her again. “I have to go
slow with you, my librarian. I don’t want you fearing the feel of me.”

“I’m not afraid.”

Braden bit her lower lip. “Shh.”

“But that wasn’t a question,” she protested.

He bit her again. “I see how this is going to go. Lots of
spanking in your future, darlin’. Now touch me. All of me.”

All of him.
Elisa drew her hand up his spine again,
fingertips still tingling from the encounter with his backside. She slid her
fingers around his shoulders, tracing the muscle around to his chest.

Braden made a soft noise as she drew her hand across his
pectorals, propping himself on his side so she could reach him. The hair on his
chest was wiry, and while she stroked it, her fingertips found his nipple.

It was flat and small, so different from her own soft
areolas. Elisa traced it, and Braden’s sigh became a groan.

She pulled away. “I thought only women liked their breasts
to be touched.”

“It’s erotic for all of us, love. Are you saying you like
your breasts to be touched? How do you know? Are you out begging men to touch
them every night, breaking your vows, naughty lady? Or do you do it to
yourself? Still naughty, but more fun for me.”

Elisa had never dreamed of touching herself, not before
she’d met Braden. “I’ve read about it.”

Braden chuckled, his laugh shaking the bed. “You’re
precious. Keep touching me, sweet love. I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Being celibate doesn’t just mean not having sex,” she said
as she flicked her finger over his nipple again. “It means indulging in no
sexual thoughts at all.”

“Later you can teach me all about the Way of the Sky and how
wonderful it is. Right now you’re learning the way of Braden.”

And what a fine lesson it was. Elisa reluctantly left the
tight poke of his nipple to stroke down to his abs, so tight and smooth. His
navel was a smooth indentation, and she lingered there, not daring to move
downward anymore.

“If you were developed in an incubator, why do you have a
navel?” she asked.

Braden laughed again. “So we’d look more human, of course.”
He laced his fingers through hers and led her hand firmly to his cock.

Elisa sucked in her breath. She’d never touched a penis
before, had never even seen one outside of an anatomy text. And then it had
been cross-sectioned to show the inner workings. Not very appealing.

Braden’s penis was hot and hard, his skin satin smooth and
stretched tight. Definitely appealing. His breath came faster as she skimmed
her fingers down it, touching in wonder.

“You’re a quick learner,” he said. “Do you do research, my
librarian?”

“I’ve read plenty about anatomy.” But this was different
from clinical drawings and holopics.
Oh my, yes.

“If you know so much about anatomy, tell me what you’re
touching right now.”

“Your shaft. And this is the head.” Elisa found the skin
stretched tight there too but the head itself a little springy, softer flesh
than she’d imagined. Elisa had pictured penises to be ramrod hard, like steel,
made to penetrate the tight corridor of a woman.

“Yep, that’s the head.” Braden’s words died into a groan.
“You can call it what you want, darlin’. The cap, the flange, the tip, the
purple helmet of the warrior, whatever. Or the best one—
the thing I want to
put in my mouth
.”

She drew her hand away. “Mouth?”

Braden guided her back to his cock, which felt hotter now.
“This isn’t working. Please, I’m dying here. Listen to me begging for you.”

Elisa smiled. “You feel alive to me.”

“Baby, you’ve been torturing me since the day you looked at
me over your desk and asked if you could help me. I’ve been craving you, your
scent, your taste, your touch. Goddess,
don’t stop
.”

Braden’s entire body was rigid, his eyes closed, his face
tight under the lights that had risen to illuminate them. Elisa’s blood felt
hot, her opening wet.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked.

“Hell no. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I can’t…” He broke off and
groaned. Braden fitted her fingers around the shaft and pulled her hand up his
penis. “Like that. Keep doing that.”

He let go, and Elisa stroked by herself. The hot hardness in
her hand excited her, and she loved how his tip bumped her palm. Braden rolled
over onto his back on the big bed and propped up on his elbows, letting her get
to all of him.

He was beautiful in the artificial light, a man stretched
out for her pleasure, stark naked on her sheets. Elisa adjusted herself so her
bound arm wouldn’t pull her, and continued. Braden’s hips came up as she
pumped, his head went back.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about this, sweetheart.”

Why was he apologizing? This was fun. Elisa explored his
cock with all curiosity. He stopped trying to guide her and simply lay there
with his head back, face softening in ecstasy.

What power. To make this huge man with his foot-long
erection tame to her touch was exciting.

“Do you like that?” she asked as she ran her fingertips
around the base.

“Hell.”

“I believe you do.” Bravely, Elisa dipped her hand to his
balls, which she found tight like the rest of him.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

Elisa tickled his balls with her fingertips then grasped his
shaft again. There was nothing to be afraid of. Warm man, skin and sweat, so
human. She brushed her thumb across his tip, startled to find moisture there.

“Are you…” She groped for a word and couldn’t find one.
Ejaculating
sounded so clinical.

“Coming? Not yet.” He opened his eyes, Shareem blue filling
them. “Very soon. Keep going, baby, please.”

Elisa swept some of the moisture from his tip down the
shaft, liking how even that little wetness lubricated things. She understood
now why people used oils—oil would make him so slick that her hand would glide
up and down with almost no friction. Elisa could stroke him and pump him as
fast and hard as she could. She wanted to.

“Did you bring any oil with you?” she asked, eager to
experiment.

“Shit.” He was panting.

“I want to use some.”

“I’m the Dom, sweetheart. You’re supposed to obey me.”

“But it would be fun.”

Braden broke her hold to roll over and reach to her bedside
table, where he’d left a valise. In seconds, he was back in position, his penis
standing straight up, a bottle in his hand. He worked out the stopper and more
or less dumped oil onto the base of his shaft. He jammed the stopper back on
and the bottle rolled away, sealed tight.

Elisa smiled happily. She smoothed the oil onto him while
Braden lay back again, weight on his elbows, watching her.

She was right. The oil made everything smooth and slick,
easy to maneuver. This wasn’t frightening at all. Braden spread his legs and
Elisa smeared the oil all over his penis, down beneath his balls.

This was crazy. Braden loved how Elisa smiled at him, her
face sweet as she stroked. Her breasts brushed the silk of her nightdress,
hanging unfettered against the thin fabric. It was all he could do not to rip
off the nightdress, roll her over and fuck her until they were both screaming.

Slowly. She didn’t understand, yet.

But damn, she had a magic touch. Fingers teasing, sometimes
barely skimming his flesh, sometimes gripping his cock hard. She had no clue
what she was doing, and she was unpracticed, but who the hell cared?

Elisa’s smile widened as she worked him. A woman loving her
power. And damn it, Braden, level-three Dom, commander of ladies, lay there and
took it.

Fuck, he was going to come. He was going to come, and come
right into Elisa’s hands. He wanted to. He also wanted to be inside her,
breaking free, feeling her tight and hot around him.

“Squeeze,” he grated. “Squeeze hard.”

“Like this?”

Warm, firm grip. Slide of hand. Shy look from beautiful
eyes. A man could fall in love with her.

A wave of crazed wanting crashed over him. Braden heard his
shout, felt his body focus on one beautiful point.
Her.

His hips left the bed. Elisa pulled back, startled, as ropes
of come burst out of him. Braden swiftly grabbed her by the shoulders and
pushed her down onto the sheets, wrapping her hand around him again. He pumped
his hips, wishing to the gods he were inside her, but her tight hand would have
to do.

Braden fucked her hand, kissing her face. Her lips tasted
good, so did her skin, her beautiful body smelled so damn good.

Braden kept kissing her, smiling into the kisses, loving the
smile she gave back.