Submission (7 page)

Rex beckoned and the other members
closed around them, taking feathers and tickling Joanna with them. Rex knew
she’d hear their footfalls, their breath, their heat. He watched her shake
beneath the assault of silken plumes, watched her tremble and vibrate.

And he smelled her hot wet sex.

If she was pretending, it was a
hell of a ruse.

Rex reached out abruptly and
cupped one of her breasts in his hand. Not a harsh gesture, just one Joanna
wouldn’t be able to anticipate with the blindfold. He expected her to jerk away
from him, but she didn’t. The feathers fell away, leaving her quivering in his
grasp.

But she held her ground.

Had Joanna taken this job because
of her own inclinations? Rex loved that idea. Or was he seeing what he wanted
to see?

Rex deliberately caressed her
nipple, then pinched it lightly. Joanna caught her breath, arched her back and
swallowed. The flush that touched her skin revealed to him that she was
tingling, aware of him, outside of her comfort zone.

But enjoying it.

So was he.

He flicked a glance at Athena,
whose gaze was considering.

“Sensitive, too,” he murmured,
running his thumb back and forth across that hard nipple.

“Don’t spank that out of her
completely,” Athena chided. Joanna was listening, trying to hide her dismay,
but those nipples told no lies. She did like the idea of being spanked.

“It’ll take more than one night to
do that.” Rex watched her, fascinated by the sight of her arousal.

He decided to push her a little
more.

He caught Joanna’s shoulders in
his hands and drew her closer, letting her breasts bump against his chest. He
was taller than she was, broader and stronger, and she was bound. He was
wearing leather, supposedly her fantasy. He slid his hands down to her elbows
and back to her shoulders, holding her in a resolute grip, reminding her of her
helplessness as he held her against him. Her lips worked as if she would
protest, but had been warned of consequences if she did.

“Welcome to the Plume,” he
murmured, using his deepest, darkest voice. He felt her tremble in his embrace.
“I am the Master. Now you’re mine.”

Joanna trembled in his grip,
licked her lips.

“I threatened to give her to
Rafael if she talked,” Athena contributed amiably. “Maybe we still should.”

“Maybe I’ll let him share,” Rex
murmured. He kept running his hands over Joanna, showing her that she was a
possession,
his
possession.

Joanna gasped at his words, her
cheeks turning red with outrage.

Rex chuckled, knowing that he’d
found a secret, perhaps one he could work with. “It’s not up to you,” he
murmured.

Joanna’s blush deepened and she
looked discomfited now. He fully expected that she would bail soon and demand
release.

But he’d have one kiss first, the
one he’d been dreaming of for years.

He hauled her closer and caught
the back of her head in one hand, enjoying the contrast of his strength with
her femininity. He liked the look of his dark skin against her fair skin, the
look of the black leather glove around her pale nape. She was so slender, so
delicate that he could have broken her – instead he caressed her, letting
her feel his power and that he had it in check. He felt possessive and
powerful, yet tender as well.

She trembled, wobbling slightly in
those fabulous heels. She smelled like the body lotion they gave all the
recruits, the familiar mingled with the distinctive perfume of her own body.

Sweet and hot and low.

As potent as dynamite and as
pervasive as cinnamon.

He wrapped his other arm around
her waist, pulling her to her toes, crushing her against him. He lifted her
toes almost from the ground. He ensured that she felt the size of his erection,
watched her lips part in surprise, before he bent and kissed her.

It was a thorough kiss, a mark of
ownership, a kiss that gave fair warning of his intent to take her submission
at its word. He kissed her open-mouthed, demanding more, claiming and
possessing and asserting his claim over her body. It should have terrified
Joanna. It was sure to make her bolt.

She stiffened in surprise, made to
close her mouth against him, then seemed to think better of it.

Remembering her cover story,
maybe.

He felt her heart skip, the thud
of it against his chest.

He smelled her arousal.

And he felt something change. She
shuddered, right to her toes, then stretched against him and opened her mouth
to him. The gesture sent fire through his blood.

She was his for the taking. Whether
it was real or feigned, Rex didn’t care.

He deepened his kiss, sampling and
savoring her, taking more with his tongue and teeth. She kissed him back,
grinding her breasts against his chest, her tongue tangling with his as if
she’d been born to be his sex slave.

The members gave a cheer.

Rex broke his kiss, framing her
face in his hands and holding her so that she was on her toes. She wasn’t quite
able to balance unless she leaned against him. When her breasts collided with
his chest, she sighed. Then she licked her lips again, that tongue dancing over
the swollen redness of them, the sight shorting out his brain.

Joanna as his sex slave.

Just because Rex wanted it to be
true didn’t make it so. He had responsibilities. He had to think of the Plume
and its membership and his job of defending the borders. His own desire
couldn’t be the undoing of everything.

She was a journalist.

There was a ripple of applause,
but Athena silenced it with a gesture. “You have a plan for our bad girl. I see
it in your eyes,” she charged.

He did.

Rex focused on Joanna. “Repeat
after me,” he instructed her. “I surrender to desire.”

“I surrender to desire,” she said,
breathless but without hesitation.

“To be bound and blindfolded.”

“To be bound and blindfolded.”

It was ritualistic to go through
the options, and repetitive, but Rex always enjoyed watching the transformation
in the recruit’s body language. It gave a certain spice to the encounter,
although ultimately the rules were the same.

He expected Joanna to stumble over
the pledge, to try to negotiate her freedom.

He had to taunt her and throw her
out.

“To be trussed and tied,” he said,
his tone hard.

“To be trussed and tied.”

“To be harnessed and hog-tied.”

She caught her breath, said the
words. “To be harnessed and hog-tied.”

Athena gave a low whistle, visibly
impressed, and Rex remembered her skepticism.

He went back to one idea Joanna
already responded to. “To be shackled and shared.”

That one startled her –
again - and he wondered whether she’d included it on her application. “To be
shackled and shared,” she repeated, her voice strained.

He let his thumbs slide across her
cheeks and his fingers lock into her hair. He was holding her on tiptoe,
captive to his caress. He leaned close and whispered, letting his breath fan
her face. “To be photographed and fucked.”

She flinched.

Rex had to repeat the words before
she whispered them as well.

“To be photographed and fucked.”

So, she was concerned about there
being a record. Of course. In Rex’s experience, the confronting of those fears
led to the most explosive orgasms. And she was a journalist.

He could build Joanna a scrapbook,
of herself bound captive in every possible way.

He could have done so, if she
really had been joining. Her flinch told him the truth. As it was, he’d have to
be content with a few images of this encounter.

“To be mine for so long as I
desire you,” he added, stealing another potent kiss. Her lips clung to his with
a vulnerability that made him wish this were the truth.

“To be yours for so long as you
desire me,” she whispered, her breath against his face.

“And then to be taken and given as
I command.”

Her throat worked again, showing
her concern with this idea.

“And then?” he prompted.

“And then to be taken and given as
you command.” She bowed her head, coming to terms with this prospect even
though her pulse still fluttered in her throat. He saw a tear slide from
beneath her domino, and brushed it away with a gentle fingertip. She melted at
the tenderness, touching her lips to his chest.

The gesture enflamed Rex because
it seemed to have been instinctive.

“I will train you to orgasm on
command, and only for me,” he said.

“You will train me to orgasm on
command, and only for you,” she echoed. She didn’t believe it could be done. He
heard it in her tone.

Oh, he wanted to prove her wrong.
If only her application had been real, he would have spent a year ensuring that
her training was complete.

But it was a lie.

He had to act for the good of the
Plume.

The members applauded. Rex watched
Joanna belatedly realize just how many people were there. He put his lips
against her temple, whispered into her ear. “Each and every one of them would
take you now, if I allowed it.”

She shivered in his grip, a
delicious sensation. “Please no, Master,” she whispered.

“The Master has high
expectations,” Athena said to Joanna, slapping her buttocks with an open hand.
Joanna jumped a little at the impact, then straightened before Rex.

As if she’d look him in the eye.
“Nevertheless, I am his possession.”

The members hooted at this
audacity. “Naughty, naughty,” several began to chant. Joanna blushed, but she
didn’t bow her head.

Rex ached with wanting her,
yearned to bend her over a barstool and drill her until he couldn’t come any
more, but he had to think of his responsibilities.

“Then let’s begin,” he said,
noting how she inhaled.

He spun Joanna in place, putting a
hand on the back of her neck and driving her back to the garage with purpose.

In ten minutes, his mission would
be accomplished, he was sure of it.

Chapter Three

They were going back the way
they’d come. Joanna didn’t understand. She’d been so close. She’d made all the
pledges. What had gone wrong?

What had she done wrong? She
didn’t dare ask the Master, not with the commanding weight of his hand on the
back of her neck, reminding her of his strength and size. He was taller than
her, all muscled power. That his touch could be so gentle just shook her to her
marrow. He could do anything he wanted to her, and no one would make a sound of
protest.

Her heart raced at that and she
smelled her own anxiety, even as she reminded herself that she’d surrendered to
him. She’d committed to a list of possibilities that made her dizzy.

So why were they going back the
way they’d come?

Joanna felt panicky, as if she
truly had been naughty, as if she was going to be deprived of the full
experience of the Plume. She wanted it now, wanted it more than she’d realized
earlier. Her resistance had frayed under the assault of the feathers, the
incessant tickling that made her blood pound in her ears.

She was his to take.

The Master was the stuff of
fantasy. His touch. His voice. His surety. His gentle strength and his
conviction that he could teach her to orgasm only on command. Tough and tender
all at once. It was irresistible. He was irresistible. Blindfolded and bound,
she felt like another woman, one whose life was outside of her own, one who
could enjoy a potent and forbidden kiss. A secret lover. A wicked game.

The fact was that Joanna had never
been so aroused.

But she felt the warm air of the
club fade behind them, along with the murmur of conversation. The tinkling of
glasses faded into the distance, the solid tread of the Master’s boots right
beside her. She heard the swish of those double doors, the ones she had passed
through just moments before, felt the asphalt beneath her heels and chilly air
collide with her thighs and breasts.

“Sir?” Rafael asked. The limousine
must still be there, even though it wasn’t running.

She sensed that the Master made a
gesture, because she heard a car door open. The Master murmured something to
Rafael, something that made the other man walk away, purpose in the sound of
his footsteps.

Joanna tingled. She was alone with
the Master. Maybe he was taking her to a secret lair.

“We’ll start our photo album by
recreating your arrival,” the Master said, his voice so low and melodic that
Joanna wanted to listen to it all night long.

Pictures?
Photographed and
fucked.
She’d agreed to that, in front of
witnesses. She opened her mouth to argue then shut it again, feeling a flush of
anger stain her cheeks. There’d be evidence of her being here, potential
material for blackmail…

But the fact was she couldn’t do
much to stop him.

She turned away from him, wanting
to run, but his hands locked around her waist as if he anticipated that. He
held her captive against the cool metal of the exterior of the car, his hip
pinning her in place. He was wearing leather gloves and a leather jacket,
encased in leather, its cool smoothness more exciting than Joanna had expected.

His erection was unmistakable and
made her thoughts churn.

She heard the door open beside
her, felt the Master ease her toward the opening. She couldn’t run, not without
being able to see, and she couldn’t free herself. She panicked slightly and his
hand ran over her in a smooth caress.

“Easy,” he murmured and his touch
both calmed and aroused her. He put his hand on the top of her head, pushing
her down. “Sit first, then swing your legs around.”

That he was protective of her was
confusing. It made her mouth go dry and shattered the last thread of her
resistance.