Venice Nights (2 page)

I squeezed Jacob’s hand excitedly as the crystal water stretched on before us, the helicopter kissing the edge where historic buildings looked out into the blue. Sun sparkled like diamonds on the surface of the water.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, finally relaxing and remembering the beauty of this place instead of focusing on my colossal screw-up in front of the press.

“
You’re
beautiful,” Jacob said, looking at me like I gazed at the scenery. Like nothing on Earth was as beautiful or as precious to him.

Tears started in my chest, my heart filling with so much love for him. They pricked my eyes, and my nostrils flared as I tried to keep it together.

His face darkened with worry, misreading my reaction. “Are you all right?”

I leaned in, knowing the only way to calm his worries. My lips gripped his, tongue diving into his mouth with a hunger only he could sate. When I pulled back, lust swirled in his eyes.

“Kisses like that may get you in trouble,” he said, need darkening every word. Promising me toe curling things.

I brought my hand to the erection tenting the crotch of his pants. “I’m counting on it.”

Chapter Two

We touched down in knee high grass, Jacob’s villa standing massive and beautiful on the lush Italian countryside. Once the helicopter powered down I could hear myself think, I sent Jacob a message with my eyes. The propellers and electronic whirring could no longer quiet the need that screamed in my head.

I wanted him.

The word ‘want’ did not do the desires inside me justice. I
wanted
to put my feet on solid ground. After five minutes in the air, oohing and aahing over architecture, I made the mistake of thinking about how far up we were. How far I had to fall if something terrible happened.

I brushed off the rush of discomfort, remembering that something terrible
did
happen. My boyfriend announced to the world that we were together, and when the paparazzi did the inevitable and asked an inappropriate question, I lost my shit. Jacob Whitmore dating a nobody was news. Jacob Whitmore dating a nobody that nearly punched out a photographer? That was gold.

Not now
, I thought sternly, pushing aside the latest events of the crazy saga that my life had become. I was dating Jacob Whitmore, the drop dead gorgeous businessman, the only person from his field to be crowned
People
Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive. The only guy that could bring me to the edge of beautiful, tear inducing pain—and make me beg for more. The only man that told me he loved me and unlocked some secret part of me; the hopeless romantic who believed in happily ever afters and thought maybe, just maybe, we could last forever.

Forever. That word was as heavy as the L word.

Before you start singing songs about going to the chapel and naming your future children, you should focus on now.

This moment. My hand in his, walking inside his breathtaking home.

Finally alone.

Jacob closed the door behind us. “Now about that kiss...”

He turned to face me, his bright eyes rounding with surprise. The tunic I’d worn was already flung across the room, the leggings next in line. I held his gaze, my fingers running down my fevered skin. Over my knees, skating my calves. I bent at the waist, loving the way his eyes shifted to my breasts, caressing every contour.

When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous.

“What are you doing?”

I kicked the leggings away, goosebumps rippling over me like wildfire. “I’m submitting to you.” The only thing that kept me from being completely naked were my bra and panties. I sunk to my knees, waiting expectantly.

He said nothing, his face impassive as his eyes slowly raked over my body.

Oh my god...my still clothed body!
Memory pierced me and I shot back to our first encounter in his special BDSM room, in this very house. I had flaunted my lingerie then too and he had ordered me to remove it, showing him every part of me.

I reached around my back, unhooking my bra. I blushed from head to toe as I wiggled out of my thong. When I spied my clothes flung around so carelessly, I gathered them in my arms. I flashed him an apologetic smile that he did not return. Another thing I had forgotten. I felt just as embarrassed as I had then, crawling to pick up my hastily discarded clothing.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, returning to my knees. I pushed away the punch of discomfort as my knees made contact with the hardwood floor. I looked up, expecting Jacob to bark out some command or smile with pleasure that I was ready to be his.

All his.

When he did not say a word, silently crossing his muscled arms against his chest, a fluttering erupted in my stomach.

I was naked and on my knees, practically prostrating for him. Why had he not taken me?

He inhaled deeply, the exhale soundless. I bit my lip, my arms growing tired from the unnatural position. My knee caps were calling me all sorts of names.

What was he waiting for?

He finally spoke, his voice filling the empty room. “I’ll ask you once more. What are you doing?”

I peered up at him in confusion. “What am I doing?” I felt the warmth of embarrassment flood me as his cool eyes waited for my response like he had all the time in the world. A
nd he does. He’s not the one kneeling on a hardwood floor!

My voice picked up some of the warmth that turned me beet red as my shame transformed into anger. “What am
I
doing?” When he didn’t answer, or even register how upset I was, I faltered. “I’m...submitting?”

“Submitting?” His chuckle was dark and unnerving. Still, there was something about the danger in it that made me clench with want. Turned on by the fear.

“You walked through the door,” he continued, circling me. “Stripped your clothes from your body—”

“And dropped to my knees,” I cut in. I unhooked my arms from behind my back, holding them out in case he missed the gesture. “I was trying to show you I’m ready for you.”

“But you’re
not
ready for me.” His tone was eerily calm, but his face was far from zen. Anger whipped across every feature, the lash of it making my throat knot.

“Five seconds ago, you interrupted me.” His eyes narrowed in displeasure when my mouth opened defensively. “And even now, you’re about to mouth off, aren’t you?”

I snapped my lips together, swallowing my retort. Heck yeah, I was about to mouth off! I tried to be what he wanted me to be. What more could I do?

He took a step toward me, reaching out to fondle my curly tresses. “And now you chose to be silent—when I ask you to speak.”

Before I could blink, he grabbed a fistful of hair, yanking my head backward. Tiny sparks of pain lit up my scalp.

“You want to submit to me?” he growled. “When I ask a question, you answer.”

My nostrils flared defiantly, and his grip tightened.

“Okay!” I cried out, wincing. “I’ll answer you.”

His hold slackened, but his eyes were just as fierce and unyielding.

“I thought...” I trailed off, frustration building in my chest. With it came tears; tears I couldn’t keep in my eyes. “I just wanted to do this for you.”

His eyes softened. His fingertips moved to my cheek, brushing away my tears. “I know. And I’m trying to teach you. Rule number one: you are submitting to my will, not vice versa.” He stroked my cheek. “You came in this house with one purpose: to fuck.”

He swallowed, and the mask he wore was askew, showing me a man that was far from controlled. A man who wanted to ravage me.
Needed
to ravage me.

“Trust me Leila—I want to fuck you. There isn’t a square inch of this home that I haven’t thought of taking you on.”

He cleared his throat, composing himself. Once he had put the wall back in place he held out his hand. I took it, letting him pull me to my feet.

“But here’s the catch.
I
will be the one to tell you when to tear off every shred of clothing.
I
will order you to drop to your knees, open your mouth, and take every inch of me.
I
will have you, every which way I want you, because submission is about relinquishing control.”

Tears evaporated, and my heart thumped in my throat. The way he said that word, ‘mine’, claiming me...it was like he was already inside of me. Thrusting so deep that he touched my very soul.

His fingers hooked my chin, holding my gaze steadily on his. I counted every blue swirl in his eyes, spinning, possessing me. I just wanted to dive deeper, to feel him so wholly, so completely, that there was no room for anything else.

His voice was as warm as a kiss. “Do you want to know what would have happened if things went differently and you submitted to me properly?”

I nodded slowly, my mouth dry as I hung on every word. Aching for him.

His fingers skimmed my jawline. He paused, then a single finger trailed down my neck.

“I would have told you to strip. Not in a hurry. Slowly.”

He swooped over my collar bone. I didn’t even know the collar bone could be an erogenous zone, but my body responded in kind. My nipples swelled, delight echoing inside me. The heat of my juices seeped through my trembling folds, sweet as his touch.

“Do you know why I’d want you to take your time?”

“No,” I whispered, gasping when his light touch deepened. He gripped my breast roughly, then reverted to the teasing, gentle strokes. Circling my nipple.

“Because I’d want you to feel my eyes on your body. See through my eyes. See how I see you. Beautiful and irresistible.” He licked his lips as I sucked in a breath. “Delicious.”

Delicious was right. He found the sweet spot between pain and pleasure, squeezing my peak until I swore I would come right where I stood. I closed my eyes, surrendering to him. Just as the pain edged up to the bliss and nearly surpassed it, he released, his fingertip swirling around my areola until my nipple begged for his brutal grip once more.

“Submission is trusting that your Dominant knows what’s best for you. That he knows what you need—and when you need it.” His finger lingered on the tip of my nipple, then he flicked it back and forth, watching my reaction. “It’s knowing that all your wishes will come true in good time, because there’s no way that I could be this close to you and not have you.” His voice was thick, heavy with restraint. “Are you ready to submit to me?”

My eyes fluttered open. I had no idea what was in store, but I knew one thing without a shadow of a doubt.

I trusted him.

“Yes,” I said, my voice filled with a surety that surprised both of us. “I’m ready.”

His eyes flickered with excitement, his lips curving at the sides.

“Excellent.” He combed his fingers through my hair. “You remember the color system?”

I nodded as a shiver of ecstasy rippled over me. “Green is more, yellow less. Red is stop.”

“Good girl,” he said, nodding with approval. “And you will do nothing without my permission—even climax.”

Rebellion streaked through my mind. With the way he looked at me, the way he touched me, he really thought I could hold on until he told me so?

Patience wasn’t my strongest suit, but I was up for the challenge.

“Y-Yes.”

His eyes burned holes into me. “Yes what?”

“Yes sir.”

He took a step back, sending a pang of sadness through me. He was still close enough to touch, but I missed his hands on me. The agony from our last spanking flashed through my mind.

You may regret that thought.

“I want you on your hands and knees, ass toward me.”

I gulped, ignoring the reservations. The spanking was one of the most erotic things I had ever experienced, but it was not all toe curling and gasping breaths. It was just as painful as it was pleasurable.

Fear crept down my spine. I should have known better. Challenging Jacob Whitmore did not come without consequences. Even with that rationalization, nothing prepared me for his hand colliding with my bare flesh.

I grit my teeth. The numbers were muffled, sandwiched between groans and moans. Each one set my ass on fire and lust fanned the flames until I was writhing. Rocking back into the lashes, all but saying, “More.”

The strikes stopped at twenty, and I held twenty-one on the tip of my tongue, praying for another, and thanking God for a moment to breathe. And then the distinctive sound of a fly being unzipped filled the silence, and I knew we weren’t done.

His hands were on my hips, his voice raw with desire. “Tell me what you need. Anything in this world...and I’ll give it to you.”

“You.” I didn’t even have to think about it. I knew my answer.
He
was the answer. “All I need is you.”

He plunged into my warmth and I clutched his hardened length, claiming him just as he claimed me. Green was the word that spilled from my lips as he moved inside me.

Falling into his arms, falling into his bed, was easy. Holding back instead of surrendering to the climax that was within reach? That was hard. As hard as every swollen inch that knocked all air from my lungs.

He gripped me, his thrusts fluid; a powerful dance that I was a slave to.

He commanded me to collide. To surrender. To feel.

“Come for me.” His words were breathless and ragged. “I want to feel you melt around me.”

With his permission, I released. Everything inside me let go. Every piece of the puzzle fell into place in perfect unison. The sounds I made were like none I had ever heard before as he unleashed inside me.

The thing he had done to me could not be undone. An irrefutable truth was spoken between us as he pulled me into his arms, both of us sweaty and breathless. Naked bodies curled on the hardwood floor.

I was made for him.

Chapter Three

I propped my chin on my palm, gazing at the beautiful man who laid beside me. Tangled up in covers, still fast asleep. I drew my gaze from the delicious part of him that was beneath the cotton sheet, the lengthy imprint of his cock making my mouth water. The feel of him was still fresh in my mind. Fresh on my body. After we had caught our breath following our tryst in the foyer, we had barely taken a bite of lunch before he had decided he would rather taste me.