PleasureBound (3 page)

In the next instant, he nearly found himself going against
his own warning and groaning out loud as his fingers skimmed over the smooth,
waxed skin of Sam’s labia and sank into the warm, wet split in between. Her
folds enveloped him, soft as velvet and slippery as an oil slick, coating his
fingertips in satiny juices. Searching out the little nub of her clit, he found
it hard and swollen, so sensitive that Sam had to choke back a cry at his very
first touch. She wasn’t going to last very long at all, thank god. Too much of
this and he’d end up coming inside his boxers.

“Spread wider, baby,” Adam breathed into her ear as he sent
his fingers tracing down to her entrance. “So I can get deep inside you.”

The second Sam shifted to ease his access he pushed two
fingers in up to the knuckle. Christ! She was hot in there. Hot and tight and
heavenly. His cock throbbed its protest, so hard and primed and eager to
replace his fingers inside that soft, sweet channel that Adam feared he’d burst
his fly. Why the fuck had he started this torture?

Because the strength of his attraction was undeniable,
making it impossible to keep his hands to himself, that’s why. Because he
needed to remind both himself and her that she was his. Because this woman had
grown to mean so much to him that he craved her pleasure as much as he craved
his own. He had to have something, anything, of her to help stave off the
desperate hunger gnawing at him.

Leaning back slightly so he could watch Sam’s face, Adam set
up a slow, firm rhythm, sliding his fingers in and out of her delectable cunt,
making sure he rubbed against that sensitive spot of hers with every pass. As
he’d expected, Sam was unable to keep still, her pelvis beginning to rock in
time with his finger thrusts. Her eyelids drifted shut and her teeth bit into
her plump bottom lip as a pink flush spread across her cheeks.

God, she looked so beautiful he couldn’t resist leaning in
for a kiss and soothing those teeth marks with his tongue. When she opened her
lips under his and let the tiniest whimper of submission escape into his mouth,
the sound called to the primal male core of him, and Adam knew he was going to
be left with zero control by the time he got her alone. Drawing back again to
watch her, he hoped to hell she was in the mood to have her brains fucked out.

It took less than a minute for Sam’s composure to start
slipping, for her breathing to grow more labored, her squirming more
pronounced. All of a sudden she stiffened, her lashes popping open to reveal
the dazed, unfocused look in her eyes. At the same time her hands shot up to
grasp his forearm, fingers digging with surprising strength into the tendons as
her lips formed his name in a silent plea.

“How about we put the radio on, Richards, try to catch a
traffic report?” Adam raised his voice to the driver without taking his eyes
off Sam.

With a brisk “Sir” the driver hit a button so that the car
filled with the sounds of a chart song.

Curling the arm behind Sam’s shoulders forward, Adam lay his
palm along her jaw and used it to turn her face to his. Waiting until she
focused right into his eyes, he gave her a nod and pressed his thumb hard
against her clit.

He felt her body give a violent jerk. Her internal walls
clamped around his fingers and her clit throbbed beneath the pad of his thumb.
He saw her jaw clench against the cry wanting to escape, and the flush on her
skin flare to a bright, rosy red. Faces close, he kept their gazes locked the
whole time, breathing in the puffs of her labored breaths, drinking in her
ecstasy for his own.

When the storm started to abate, he withdrew his fingers
from inside her and brought his hand up from between her legs, raising it to
his mouth and making her watch as he sucked his wet digits deep.

Her taste hit him like a potent shot of liquor, firing
through his veins and setting every nerve ending alight. Using every last ounce
of willpower to stop himself pouncing on her, he took his time savoring every
last drop, sharing each breathless, intense moment of his pleasure with Sam.

Eventually, he leaned in and touched his lips lightly to
hers. “That,” he murmured in a voice gone rough, “was a very nice way to start
the weekend.”

Lax and lovely against his side, Sam sent a self-conscious
glance at Richards before smiling up at him. “It most certainly was.” She
cleared her throat and made an obvious attempt at pulling herself together,
fussing to rearrange her dress in her lap. “So, can I know now where we’re off
to?” she asked, then laid a gentle hand over the bulge at his groin. “And how
long ‘til we get there?”

Too damn long, as far as Adam was concerned. He closed his
eyes for a moment and relished the warmth and pressure of her touch, wondering
if he could interest her in a bit of mile-high fellatio on the plane. Almost
instantly, he discounted the idea. Worked up as he was, he knew a cramped
restroom quickie just wasn’t going to cut it. Having Sam’s pretty pink lips
stretched around his shaft would be delightful but would likely only whet his
appetite for more. He needed time and space and privacy to satisfy a hunger
this intense. With a sigh, he retracted his arm from behind Sam’s neck and
reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. Pulling out a dark, glossy travel
wallet, he handed it to her.

Sam gasped as she opened the itinerary, her face lighting up
when she saw their destination. Not only had the exotic and exclusive Kasbah
Limouni in Morocco been voted one of the top boutique hotels in the world, he
also happened to know it featured pretty high up on Sam’s own ultimate wish
list.

“Adam, my god!” Re-energized by excitement, she lunged and
flung her arms around his neck. “That’s amazing, thank you!” All but jumping up
and down in her seat, she rained kisses on his laughing face. He couldn’t wait
to see how she reacted to the extra special surprise he’d arranged of a night
camping out in the desert—and the romantic proposal he planned to make there.

“You’re welcome,” he said, taking advantage of her
exuberance by capturing hold of her and crushing her against him for a kiss
deep enough to have them both panting with renewed desire. “But be warned. Once
I’ve got you all alone and at my mercy, I’m going to tie you down and make you
thank me again. Properly.”

He felt Sam stiffen and was surprised to see that rather
than the expected spark of lust fired by the thought, a shadow of something
uncertain flickered across the light in her eyes. As far as he was aware, she
more than enjoyed the occasions when their play led him to bind her hands.
Before he had a chance to question what had unsettled her, though, she shook
off the moment.

“Now,” she said, in a tone so crisp and businesslike it only
heightened his impression that something was definitely off. “Tell me all about
your New York crisis. How many heads did you leave rolling in your wake?”

Chapter Three

Soon enough they were winging their way through the skies,
sipping champagne in their business class seats, and with Adam trapped at
thirty-thousand feet Sam knew there would be no better time to broach the
delicate subject of her birthday wish.

But first she had to try to override the instincts telling
her to make a run for it herself—not easy to do when the ideas that had seemed
so good while he was thousands of miles away, now felt decidedly bad with him
back, up close and personal. Downing her complimentary drink for a bit of Dutch
courage, she turned to him.

“Adam,” she started, fighting to keep her tone casual
despite the crazy hammering of her heart. “Remember the message you sent the
other day, offering to give me anything I need this weekend?”

Not deceived by her innocent little charade for a second,
Adam went onto instant high alert, his sharp gaze snapping from the newspaper
in front of his face and narrowing in on her. In that moment, Sam fancied she
knew how it felt to be something small and helpless finding itself under the
merciless eye of a bird of prey.

“Yes,” he said, suspicion lacing his tone.

“Well,” Sam continued, having to pause to lick her dry lips,
“I’ve been thinking about that, and—what I really need is you.”

Adam blinked as he analyzed her words. Detecting no obvious
threat, he relaxed his facial muscles and allowed the corners of his mouth to
begin curving up in a smug, male smile.

“Tied up and naked for my pleasure,” Sam added in rush.

Adam’s smile froze halfway but his brows nearly shot all the
way through his hairline.

“I want you to give yourself to me, relinquishing every
ounce of physical control,” she forged on, taking advantage of his surprise,
and knowing that if she showed the slightest hesitation or doubt, defeat would
be instant. “I want you utterly at my mercy—”

Those brows began to twitch in a rare show of uncertainty, lowering
at the same slow rate as the now forgotten newspaper in Adam’s hands.

“Helpless. Willing. Mine to command.”

She could see twin furrows appearing above the bridge of his
nose as his forehead creased into a frown.

“I want total control—”

The dark slashes of his brows plummeted into a deep V at
that, shadowing the flinty sparks his eyes had started to give off.

“And your absolute surrender.”

The instant it was all out in the open, Sam felt as though a
weight had been lifted from her. She didn’t know whether to put the sudden rush
of faintness down to the thrill of liberation or the fear of vulnerability.
With her face flaming, she was glad she and Adam had the row of seats to
themselves so no one else could have overheard her kinky demands. She was equally
glad of the presence of the other passengers nearby, however, as she watched
his expression turn thunderous.

She’d been right. He didn’t like a single word of what he
was hearing. But then, she was dealing with the archetypal dominant male
here—the head boy, the team captain, the big boss—a man so used to being in
charge it was a wonder he hadn’t already stormed the cockpit to wrest control
of the plane from the pilot. She’d never expected it to be easy.

“No,” Adam said, the word definite and final, brooking no
further discussion. He re-raised the newspaper with a flick.

But Sam hadn’t lasted this long in their relationship for
nothing. She knew better than to fall at the first hurdle. “So, you’re breaking
your promise?”

Adam froze and Sam could almost hear his brain ticking over.
“What promise?” he all but snarled at her.

“The promise you made to give me anything I need this
weekend.”

It only took a second before Sam saw the dawning realization
on his face. With a sharp snap of the pages, he closed the paper and turned to
her again. “Don’t twist the context of my words, Samantha, you know what that
offer implied, and it sure as hell wasn’t anything like this.”

“Maybe not,” Sam persisted, forcing herself to hold his
annoyed glare. “But the fact remains, you stated that you’d provide me with
anything I might need.” She paused for a second to let the implications of his
own words sink in. “And the bottom line is that this is what I need, Adam. This
is what I want from you.”

He continued to argue, of course, accusing her of seeking to
objectify him, of cheapening their relationship for the sake of titillation,
but Sam persevered, making sure he understood that this was about deeper things
like trust and equality, and letting her have her own way for once, damn it!

“You’ll have to choose another way,” he finally ground out,
jaw set, teeth clenched, nose almost touching hers, “because this one’s a dead
end.”

For a moment, Sam held his hard gaze with a searching one of
her own, trying to read the true emotion behind the words, gauging how far she
could keep pushing before something irreparable gave out. For her part, she was
a long way from ready to give up on this.

With a sigh and a slow nod, she mentally crossed her fingers
and pulled her trump card. “Fine,” she said, injecting a little extra dose of
disappointment into her tone. “I can’t very well stop you going back on your
word if that’s the course you’re determined to take.”

Letting herself slump back into her seat with just a hint of
defeat, she pretended to ignore his muttered cursing as he realized he’d been
outmaneuvered. They both knew she had him cornered. The only thing left to do
now was to wait to see which he would consider as the lesser of two evils—the
thought of submitting to her or of being perceived as a liar.

Catching the attention of a passing cabin attendant, Sam
ordered another drink. Unsurprisingly, Adam joined her, demanding a double
before turning to glare out of the window at the flashes of lightning
illuminating a distant bank of storm clouds, his own mood bristling and
crackling with much the same intensity.

They continued the flight in silence.

A warm and sultry dusk had settled over the city of
Marrakech by the time their flight touched down, and as their driver sped them
away from the vibrant hub of humanity and out into the countryside, Sam had him
turn off the air-conditioning and lower the windows.

The musky, parched-earth scents of North Africa blew into
the car, ruffling their hair and filling their senses with the promise of exotic
magic. It was impossible not to feel the spirits lift, and Adam felt himself
unwind a little as he breathed it all in. He reached to take Sam’s hand but
kept his attention focused on the falling darkness outside, even though there
was little to see beyond the beam of the headlights.

Sam squeezed her fingers once around his but said nothing,
apparently content to let him stew. She knew from experience that he’d work
things out in his own time and let her know when he was ready to talk.

But god help him, what the fuck was there to say? He’d been
so blindsided by what he’d learned on the plane that he could barely gather his
thoughts, let alone order them into a coherent flow of words. His carefully
planned romantic weekend was turning into a nightmare before it had even
started. It was laughable to think he’d been so concerned with doing this right
for Sam, wrestling down his inner caveman instincts and forcing himself to stay
on the right side of the political correctness line, when it was she who’d
ended up crossing so far over onto the wrong side of that line, she was barely
more than a speck on the horizon.

And where had all that kinky shit come from, anyway? He’d
been racking his brain for any memory, any hint of behavior that should have
alerted him to this side of Sam, but could find nothing. He thought he knew her
so well, knew what she wanted, but that feeling of certainty had been blown
right out of the water and now he was left floundering. Not a sensation he was
used to, or indeed liked.

His knee-jerk reaction on the plane had been to outright
reject the preposterous idea, hiding his fear of subjugation, humiliation and
weakness behind his forceful blustering. But even as he’d done so, he’d
recognized the steely glint in Sam’s eye telling him this wasn’t just a casual
request that could be brushed aside. Oh no. Having strategically cornered him
via negotiating tactics so devious he couldn’t help but be grudgingly
impressed, he knew she’d meant every goddamned word of it.

The problem was—he didn’t relinquish control to anyone.
Ever. Surely she understood that about him by now?

He couldn’t remember feeling this shaken about anything
since he’d made his scrawny eight-year-old self stand up to the snot-nosed
bully boys who’d been bent on making his school life hell, swearing that he’d
never back down or be the victim again. And here was Sam, the woman he hoped
would love, honor and cherish him, asking him to do just that. What was she
thinking?

He shifted about on the car seat, frustrated that he
couldn’t get up and pace through these disquieting thoughts. He’d seen enough
porn in his life to know he was right to be worried. While some guys got off on
helplessness and degradation, on the punishments dished out by cruel, PVC-clad
dominatrices, that sort of scene didn’t float his boat at all. Sam had tried to
reassure him that what she wanted was less about pain and suffering and more
about trust and power sharing, but in his book that hardly counted as an
improvement. Could he ever bring himself to put that level of trust in anyone,
even Sam? Could he hand over complete control when the very idea went against
every fiber of his being?

He slid a look to where she sat beside him in the dark, half
expecting to see a stranger sitting in her place. But even though he knew there
was something new and different about her, in the dim glow of the dashboard
light she looked the same as ever—beautiful, soft, delicate as a little bird.
She was as good as half his size and weight, for god’s sake! None of it made
any sense.

They drove on into the night until they reached the very
edge of the desert, where an ancient Kasbah sat atop a solitary hill. Glowing
like a star, its brightness radiated out across the barren landscape, the only
apparent sign of life for miles.

Ringing the base of the hill was the fort’s age-worn
defensive wall, into which a massive pair of studded wooden gates were set. As
their car neared, the gates swung slowly open under the guidance of a wiry
little man in white who waved at them, wearing Djellaba robes, a jaunty red Fez
and a near-toothless grin.

The car swept up a steep, curving drive, the way lined with
tall palms from which colored glass- and lattice-work lanterns hung to
illuminate terraces abounding with flowering shrubs and bushes. More lanterns,
too many to count, hung from hooks set into the soaring, faded adobe walls of
the main building, transforming the imposing structure into a magical, artistic
light display. By the time Adam and Sam alighted before the high Moorish arch
of the entrance doors, the heavy gates had been swung closed again, locking out
the arid, sand and rock of the real world beyond and cocooning them within a
lush fantasy oasis.

Rather than finding himself filled with a sense of safety
and security, Adam was left to shake off the unpleasant impression that he was
now a prisoner in this remote place, about to endure god only knew what
tortures. If he wasn’t feeling so wrong-footed, he’d have laughed at his own
ridiculousness.

“
Marhaba bikum
.” A petite, black-eyed woman stepped
forward from where she waited beside the entrance. “Welcome to Limouni. I am
Aliz, your hostess. Please, follow me,” she greeted them and led the way
inside.

The building’s interior was grand, airy and chic, mixing
original features with contemporary design to stunning effect. Carved dark-wood
columns, pitted and split with age, drew the eye up to impossibly high
ceilings. Vibrant-colored banners of silk hung suspended from the rafters,
sweeping all the way back down to the floor and swaying in the draughts of
night air that snaked through lattice-work shutters and screens. Directional
spotlights highlighted a handful of modern, twisted steel artworks adorning the
walls, and beaten silver censers rocked gently at the ends of long chains,
perfuming the air with musky wafts of incense.

In the double-height atrium at the old fort’s heart, a
cluster of low, velvet-cushioned couches were set in a square around a bubbling
fountain, its crystal-clear waters strewn with rose petals. There, Adam and Sam
were seated and refreshed from their journey with glasses of traditional sweet
mint tea and bowls of golden almonds and sticky dates, while more men in white
robes whispered past with their luggage. The sound of their soft leather
slippers scuffing on the mosaic-tiled floor and the gentle tinkle of the
fountain were the only noises to be heard.

“It’s blissfully quiet,” Sam observed, reclining back into
the cushions across from Adam and looking entirely relaxed and at home.

“We have only two other couples visiting this weekend,” Aliz
explained, placing a dark red leather folder within his reach on the low table.
“And they are not due to arrive until the morning. The Kasbah is your private
playground for tonight.”

“Lucky us.” Sam’s eyebrows twitched as she sent him a loaded
smile. Adam, feeling anything but lucky, looked back at her with a carefully
schooled expression and said nothing. He was still at a loss for words and in
no mood to be teased.

Stiff-backed and perched right on the edge of his seat, he
didn’t have far to stretch to retrieve the folder. Opening it, he set about
dealing with the far easier task of completing their check-in forms.

Once Aliz deemed them sufficiently revived to stand, she
roused Sam and Adam and had them follow her through another arched doorway and
across a courtyard into a part of the Kasbah which housed the hammam—a
traditional stone-walled steam room—where a female attendant with a shy smile
invited them to strip off and cleanse the dirt of the road from their weary
travelers’ limbs.