Submit to Desire (4 page)

“So he’s really a priest?” she asked. “The pianist?”

“I told you I had a priest on speed dial. You really should
learn to trust me.”

“I’m trying. This is all new.”

Kingsley laid his hand on her neck and rested his thumb at the
hollow of her throat. “I will not hurt you, Charlie. Or, at least, I won’t harm
you,” he said with a roguish grin. “Do you believe that? We won’t get very far
until you know that at the moment you are most afraid of me, it is the most you
have the least reason to be.”

“Okay, I’ll try not be afraid.”

“You can be afraid all you want. Just don’t let your fear stop
you.”

Charlotte inhaled. For whatever reason, she did trust him.

“Good girl,” he said and took her hand. He kissed it slowly and
let it go. “Good night, Charlie.”

She stared at him as he strode toward his own bedroom.

Stunned that he’d left her, Charlotte entered her bedroom on
feet of lead. Hurt and embarrassed she considered gathering her things and
getting out of this madhouse. He’d spent all evening seducing her with every
glance, every touch and every smile. And now he just sauntered off to bed,
leaving her alone in her room.

She took a deep breath and remembered his words—
you really should learn to trust me
. Maybe this was a
test. Maybe he was seeing if she would get pissed and try to leave.

Charlotte kicked off her shoes and enjoyed the sound of them
bouncing hollowly off the wall. She’d give this weird place one more day. But
she couldn’t completely talk herself out of her disappointment and frustration.
Kingsley knew she was more than ready and willing to go to bed with him. Maybe
he got off on being a tease. Maybe when he finally did invite her to his room,
she’d kiss his hand and walk off like he had.

In the bathroom she brushed her teeth and glanced at herself in
the mirror. Kingsley called her beautiful but she never really thought she was.
Pretty maybe, but not beautiful. But tonight with her hair flowing like red wine
down her back, she knew she’d never looked better. But that hadn’t been good
enough for him. Angry, she strode back into the bedroom.

Charlotte froze when she sensed something behind her. Suddenly
she couldn’t move as two incredibly strong arms grabbed her and held her hard
and fast in place with a hand covering her mouth. She threw all of her strength
into her struggle to get loose but the harder she fought the harder he held
her.

“Shh…” Kingsley’s mouth was at her ear again. “It’s only
me.”

Knowing it was Kingsley didn’t do anything to calm her fears.
She tried to pull away again but still he held her tight against him. She
screamed against his hand. Barely a sound came out.

“Charlie, I know you’re afraid right now. You are allowed to be
afraid. I want you to be afraid.” His voice was low and intimate. She pushed
back against him, hoping to knock him off balance and get away. But he was too
tall, too strong. She turned her head trying to scream, but his hand was a vise
over her mouth. “In the lifestyle we all have a safe word. It’s the word you say
when you want the game to stop. Your safe word is ‘dragon’ since you’re my
little redheaded fire-breather. And the second I take my hand away you can say
‘dragon’ and I’ll let you go. Or… Or you can choose to not fear your fear.
Vanilla sex is all about trust. Rape is all about fear. In that place between
fear and trust is where we live. Trust me, Charlie. Don’t think that the fear
means you have to stop.”

Charlotte closed her eyes. She wrenched herself to the side but
still she couldn’t get free from him.

“I’m going to move my hand away from your mouth now. Say your
safe word if you must. But before you do, ask yourself how you felt when I
walked away from you tonight. Ask yourself how you will feel tomorrow if you
walk away from me now.”

Charlotte panted against his palm. He slowly took his hand away
from her mouth. She started to speak and then swallowed her words.

She heard Kingsley’s smug laugh at her ear. “I have good taste
in women, don’t I?”

Charlie opened her mouth to argue but Kingsley pushed her hard
and bent her over the bed. He took her arms and yanked them behind her back and
held them pinned there. With one hand he held her wrists and with the other he
reached underneath her dress. He ran his hand up the back of her thighs and slid
it over her hips and into her panties.

“Your clit’s swollen and you’re soaking wet,” he said as he
examined her. She clenched her jaw but was too humiliated to say anything. His
fingers skimmed across the outside of her body. She flinched as he ripped her
flimsy panties off her with a quick tear. Now naked underneath her dress there
was nothing between him and her. Kingsley used his knees to push her legs wider
apart. His hand came back to her and she groaned as he slid a single finger
inside her.

“Since the moment I saw you breathing fire at my club last
night,” Kingsley whispered as one finger became two, and two fingers turned to
three inside her, “I knew I had to have you…to feel that fire inside you.”

He pulled his hand roughly out of her and she lay scared and
panting against the sheets.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Closing her eyes, she dug her hands
into the sheets and tried to breathe through her fears.

“It’s adrenaline,” Kingsley said as he opened a drawer and
pulled something out, something that sounded like metal. She gasped as he took
her wrists again and yanked them behind her back. “What you’re feeling right
now—it isn’t fear. You aren’t afraid of me. You’ve simply never been this
excited before.”

“God, you’re arrogant,” Charlotte growled as Kingsley slapped
cold metal handcuffs on to each of her wrists.

“I’m not arrogant. I’m French.” Kingsley forced her legs apart
again as Charlotte tried to relax into the handcuffs. The weighty cold metal dug
into her skin. She felt helpless, and hopeless. One word could get her out of
this. All she had to do was say it and Kingsley would let her go. But she
couldn’t say it. Even scared and humiliated she couldn’t deny that she wanted
him, wanted this so much it scared her more than the handcuffs and the man who
had taken possession of her body. “Now, Charlie, I’m going to put my cock in you
in two seconds. If you have an objection to that, I would raise it right
now.”

Charlotte said nothing as hot tears of shame welled up in her
eyes.

“I thought as much,” he said and shoved inside her.

He was so big it almost hurt going in. She strained against the
handcuffs and pressed her face into the bed as Kingsley thrust into her with
strokes both hard and slow. Reaching around her hips he found her clitoris
again. With an expert touch he teased it until Charlotte cried out. As her
orgasm peaked and waned, Kingsley roughly turned her onto her back and pushed
her legs open again.

Kingsley yanked her dress down and bared her breasts. His mouth
dropped to her neck. He rained violent kisses across her chest and shoulders so
roughly she knew she’d have bruises from his mouth tomorrow. He took both
breasts in his hands and held them as he penetrated her again. She opened her
legs wider and took him as deep into her as she could.

Bending over her, he met her eye-to-eye. “You tilt your hips
high. You like deep penetration, don’t you?” Charlotte turned her head and
stared at the wall. But Kingsley grabbed her face again and forced her to look
at him. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she said. “I like it deep.”

“Then by all means.” Kingsley grabbed her knees and wrenched
them up and over his shoulders. She arched back—each thrust seemed to pound at
the base of her stomach.

Charlotte panted as Kingsley continued his assault on her. She
hated how good it felt being taken like this, hated herself for liking the
brutality so much. He manipulated her body like he owned it, touched her like
her body was an open book he’d read and memorized. Turning her head, Charlotte
pressed her face to her arm. As Kingsley kneaded her clitoris between his thumb
and forefinger she came so hard that tears rolled out of the corners of her
eyes.

Kingsley lowered her legs off his shoulders and covered her
body with his. Instinctively Charlotte wrapped her legs around his waist as he
continued to move in her. He bit her neck, her collarbone, kissed the hollow of
her throat all while still moving in her.

“You like this,” he said.

“Yes,” she whispered as she flinched at a particularly hard
thrust.

“Call me ‘sir’ when I’m inside you, Charlie.”

“Yes, sir,” she breathed, wanting to both kiss him and slap him
the second her hands were free.

She kept waiting for him to be done with her. But there seemed
to be no end to the pleasure he inflicted on her. He pushed and pushed until
Charlotte felt her inner muscles start to tighten. Raising her hips, she took
him deep into her again. She closed her eyes as another orgasm ripped through
her. Finally Kingsley’s movements grew harsher and faster. His fingers dug into
the back of her neck. He held her still, forcing her to meet his eyes. With one
last brutal thrust he came with his eyes open and locked onto hers.

Still inside her he moved her legs flat on her bed. Her body
continued to pulse around his length as his cock pulsed inside her. He dipped
his head and for the first time since meeting, kissed her.

She opened her mouth to his and his tongue slipped inside. His
kiss—gentle and subtle—was the opposite of the sex. She wanted him to stay in
her mouth and her body all night. Kingsley pulled back and smiled down at
her.

“Took you long enough to kiss me, sir,” she said, remembering
his orders, remembering he was still inside her.

“You’re a fire-breather, Charlie. You can’t blame me for being
wary of your mouth.”

She laughed a little but winced as he pulled out of her sore
body. She lay on her back, letting her heart slow its frenetic beating as he
disappeared into the bathroom. She wondered what she looked like. Kingsley
hadn’t raped her but she probably looked like someone had. Her dress was torn
and still bunched around her stomach. She could already tell she was covered in
bruises from his hands and his mouth. Even inside she felt bruised from his
merciless thrusts.

Kingsley emerged and stood by the bed. He looked immaculate in
his suit. He’s been fully dressed when he’d taken her. Only his feet were bare
and he had abandoned his jacket. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the
handcuff key and released her. She rolled up and tried to straighten her
dress.

“What?” she asked as Kingsley stared at her.

“You look beautiful.”

“I look like a rape victim.” She wiped her eyes and a smudge of
eyeliner came off on her fingers.

“You look like a woman who’s been ravished and thoroughly
enjoyed it.”

“You scared the shit out of me grabbing me like that.”

Kingsley sat on the bed next to her.

“You like being scared.”

Charlie didn’t answer. Kingsley took her by the chin again,
this time gently. He caressed her bottom lip with his thumb. “You like being
scared,” he repeated. “You don’t have to be afraid of your fear, Charlie. You’re
allowed to be afraid and like it.”

“Normal people aren’t supposed to like this stuff. Normal
people aren’t supposed to enjoy being thrown down, tied up and practically
raped.”

“My beautiful Charlie.” Kingsley kissed her slowly. “Perhaps
it’s time to admit you aren’t normal people.”

* * *

Charlotte woke early the next morning. She put on the
black bathrobe and found his bedroom door ajar but no King seemed to be in
residence.

After eating breakfast in his opulent kitchen, she wandered
back upstairs to shower and dress. When she stepped out of the shower, she found
Kingsley standing there waiting with a towel.

“You’re trying to kill me,” she said as she snatched the towel
out of his hands. “Give me a little warning, please, if you’re going to
shower-stalk me.”

“You must learn to keep you on your toes. Come here, Charlie.
Let’s see the damage, shall we?”

Charlotte stepped out of the shower. Kingsley stood in front of
her and unwrapped her towel. Even though they’d had the most intense sex of her
life last night, he hadn’t actually seen her completely naked. Just standing
there in front of him was embarrassing and awkward. He, of course, seemed
slightly aroused and amused as always.

“How bad is it?”

“Terrible. I barely left a mark on you. We’ll have to rectify
that.”

“What do you call these?”

She pointed to the bruises on her chest and shoulders.

“Just nibbles.” Kingsley bit her wet neck.

“This isn’t fair, you know.” She wrapped her arms over her bare
breasts. “I haven’t gotten to see you naked yet.”

“Women tend to fall in love with me when I take my clothes
off.”

“You’re a narcissist. Come on—just a peek?”

Kingsley arched an eyebrow at her. “Very well. If you
insist.”

He strode from the bathroom. Grabbing her towel, Charlotte
followed him into his bedroom.

She stood in the center of his room while he started to
undress. Today’s look was more Edwardian than Victorian. His jacket had five
buttons and she watched with eager anticipation as he brusquely undid all of
them. Tossing the jacket aside, he unknotted his tie and pulled his white shirt
from his trousers. She gasped when he shed the shirt and stood bare-chested in
front of her.

“Oh, my God.” Charlotte covered her mouth in shock.

“You were warned.”

She reached out and tentatively touched his chest. His body was
what she imagined—lean and muscled and tan. But she never imagined this.

“How?” She looked up at his eyes.

“I was in the French Foreign Legion in my early twenties.
Bullet wounds.”

“You were shot?”

“Four times. Thankfully all were small-caliber and missed vital
organs. Especially my favorite vital organ.”