All He Needs
Page 77
Recognizing how she was trembling on the brink, Dominic slipped off her blindfold, took her face in his hands, leaned in close, and whispered, “I own you, baby. Every breath. Every heartbeat. Every precious part of you.”
She shook her head, formed the word no, but was so near climax, so ravenous with lust, she couldn’t find breath to speak.
He leaned back, ran his finger over her mouth. “I need a yes, baby. You know that don’t you.”
He didn’t have to say, Or else. She tensed.
“You’re mine, baby—property of Dominic Knight.” His fingers brushed her cheek. “Aren’t you?”
She nodded.
He smiled. “There you go, baby. Time to rock and roll.” Sliding his hand between her legs, knowing that at this stage of her arousal if he pulled out a pearl, the incredible rush would kick-start her climax—he did just that.
He wound the thin gold chain around his finger—and pulled.
Her orgasm exploded on cue, wildly, loudly, her scream shattering the silence. And as he slowly pulled out each additional pearl, her nerves, already fiercely convulsing, were further goaded and pleasure amplified, magnified, into a seething, tumbling, unrestrained cascade of maxed-out, unparalleled sensation that continued so long and with such unremitting intensity that she was left pale and trembling.
Only when her last spasm died away did he slide the dildo out. Then, lifting her into his arms, he cradled her on his lap and gently kissed her until she stopped shaking. “You’re incredible, Katherine,” he whispered, his breath warm on her cheek, feeling as though all his senses were heightened, as though he’d had the orgasm himself.
It was both unnerving and fantastic.
Like so much of their relationship.
He came out of his reverie when she tapped his chest with the cuffs.
Unclasping the bracelets, he dropped them on the bed. “Are you okay?” He dipped his head, met her gaze. “Nothing damaged?”
Her smile was slow and lush. “Everything’s fine. That was intense. You really are Svengali. I hate you and love you at the same time.” She suddenly grinned. “But you know what’s coming next, don’t you?” Sliding off his lap, she moved to the foot of the bed, and sitting cross-legged, tried not to smirk. “My turn.”
He was feeling so fine that he didn’t even grumble, although he knew what was coming. Especially when she’d casually mentioned love. He turned to face her, slid up against the headboard, settled back, and stretched out his legs. “Do your worst, baby.”
“Tell me about Julia.”
His surprise showed; he’d expected a quiz on his feelings.
“It’s just that she seemed like such a remarkable woman, selfless, brave, compassionate. Like some superwoman.”
“She was remarkable,” he said, finding it easier to talk about Julia, not knowing why exactly, wondering if his fabulous nonorgasm was the cause. “But what you and I have is different.” There was a short silence, as though he were searching for the right words. “It’s chaotic, volatile, occasionally mind-blowing.” He smiled. “You’re my reminder that life comes in many shades of beautiful.
“I met Julia on Everest,” he went on, as if she’d asked. “She was climbing with a group raising money for some charity she was involved in. She was amazing. Nothing stopped her. Only five of us made it to the summit that spring. And we nearly didn’t. The weather was fierce. Rare storms. There shouldn’t have been any that time of year.” He shrugged. “It’s funny how life is overshadowed by chance so often. How you meet someone. Or maybe you don’t. And an opportunity passes you by.” His voice had gone soft at the end. “Do you ever think how we almost didn’t meet? I do.” He seemed to gather himself, his mouth twitched into a grin. “It damn near makes me think about going to church if I had a church to go to.”
“I’m more a gypsy fate person. Although,” Kate said with a little dip of her head and the dazzling smile that always made him feel like the most fortunate man on the face of the earth, “I’m not above thanking Lady Luck or whomever for this—us—you, me, whatever. So tell me,” she said abruptly, changing the subject back because she had a limited time to ask her questions and Dominic’s late wife was a major enigma. “Julia’s charity offers microloans to women, right?”
“Actually, the charity was something Roscoe’s first wife started and when that marriage folded, Julia took over.”
“I suppose there were too many grateful women wanting to show their gratitude for you or Roscoe to handle.”
He looked up startled, then nodded, and said, “Some. Enough.”
“Julia kept them at bay.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I never interfered. And Charlie was with Julia almost from the start. They’d met in a marketing class at Stanford. I didn’t know either one of them then. They were younger, not in my field and the school’s”—another shrug—“big. Not that I’m interested in talking about Charlie.”
“That makes two of us.”
He grinned. “And my five minutes are almost up.”
“Were you timing mine?”
He laughed. “You never take long, baby. But fast or slow, I just want you to know you’re rocking my world in a really nice way.”
“Then maybe I could ask you a favor.”
“My answer is yes.” He smiled. “I know that look.”
She shook her head, formed the word no, but was so near climax, so ravenous with lust, she couldn’t find breath to speak.
He leaned back, ran his finger over her mouth. “I need a yes, baby. You know that don’t you.”
He didn’t have to say, Or else. She tensed.
“You’re mine, baby—property of Dominic Knight.” His fingers brushed her cheek. “Aren’t you?”
She nodded.
He smiled. “There you go, baby. Time to rock and roll.” Sliding his hand between her legs, knowing that at this stage of her arousal if he pulled out a pearl, the incredible rush would kick-start her climax—he did just that.
He wound the thin gold chain around his finger—and pulled.
Her orgasm exploded on cue, wildly, loudly, her scream shattering the silence. And as he slowly pulled out each additional pearl, her nerves, already fiercely convulsing, were further goaded and pleasure amplified, magnified, into a seething, tumbling, unrestrained cascade of maxed-out, unparalleled sensation that continued so long and with such unremitting intensity that she was left pale and trembling.
Only when her last spasm died away did he slide the dildo out. Then, lifting her into his arms, he cradled her on his lap and gently kissed her until she stopped shaking. “You’re incredible, Katherine,” he whispered, his breath warm on her cheek, feeling as though all his senses were heightened, as though he’d had the orgasm himself.
It was both unnerving and fantastic.
Like so much of their relationship.
He came out of his reverie when she tapped his chest with the cuffs.
Unclasping the bracelets, he dropped them on the bed. “Are you okay?” He dipped his head, met her gaze. “Nothing damaged?”
Her smile was slow and lush. “Everything’s fine. That was intense. You really are Svengali. I hate you and love you at the same time.” She suddenly grinned. “But you know what’s coming next, don’t you?” Sliding off his lap, she moved to the foot of the bed, and sitting cross-legged, tried not to smirk. “My turn.”
He was feeling so fine that he didn’t even grumble, although he knew what was coming. Especially when she’d casually mentioned love. He turned to face her, slid up against the headboard, settled back, and stretched out his legs. “Do your worst, baby.”
“Tell me about Julia.”
His surprise showed; he’d expected a quiz on his feelings.
“It’s just that she seemed like such a remarkable woman, selfless, brave, compassionate. Like some superwoman.”
“She was remarkable,” he said, finding it easier to talk about Julia, not knowing why exactly, wondering if his fabulous nonorgasm was the cause. “But what you and I have is different.” There was a short silence, as though he were searching for the right words. “It’s chaotic, volatile, occasionally mind-blowing.” He smiled. “You’re my reminder that life comes in many shades of beautiful.
“I met Julia on Everest,” he went on, as if she’d asked. “She was climbing with a group raising money for some charity she was involved in. She was amazing. Nothing stopped her. Only five of us made it to the summit that spring. And we nearly didn’t. The weather was fierce. Rare storms. There shouldn’t have been any that time of year.” He shrugged. “It’s funny how life is overshadowed by chance so often. How you meet someone. Or maybe you don’t. And an opportunity passes you by.” His voice had gone soft at the end. “Do you ever think how we almost didn’t meet? I do.” He seemed to gather himself, his mouth twitched into a grin. “It damn near makes me think about going to church if I had a church to go to.”
“I’m more a gypsy fate person. Although,” Kate said with a little dip of her head and the dazzling smile that always made him feel like the most fortunate man on the face of the earth, “I’m not above thanking Lady Luck or whomever for this—us—you, me, whatever. So tell me,” she said abruptly, changing the subject back because she had a limited time to ask her questions and Dominic’s late wife was a major enigma. “Julia’s charity offers microloans to women, right?”
“Actually, the charity was something Roscoe’s first wife started and when that marriage folded, Julia took over.”
“I suppose there were too many grateful women wanting to show their gratitude for you or Roscoe to handle.”
He looked up startled, then nodded, and said, “Some. Enough.”
“Julia kept them at bay.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I never interfered. And Charlie was with Julia almost from the start. They’d met in a marketing class at Stanford. I didn’t know either one of them then. They were younger, not in my field and the school’s”—another shrug—“big. Not that I’m interested in talking about Charlie.”
“That makes two of us.”
He grinned. “And my five minutes are almost up.”
“Were you timing mine?”
He laughed. “You never take long, baby. But fast or slow, I just want you to know you’re rocking my world in a really nice way.”
“Then maybe I could ask you a favor.”
“My answer is yes.” He smiled. “I know that look.”
