Hostile Takeover

Page 40

“Please, let me.”
His jaw flexed as she guided him back to her empty pussy. She bit her lip, staring up at him so he saw every change in her expression as she pulled him deep inside her.
“I love how big you are,” she whispered. “How it hurts and feels good at the same time.”
Like love itself. From the shadows in his face, she could tell this was new ground for him. It was for her as well. So she buried her face in his neck then, taking a sharp nip of his neck, winding her arms and legs around him again.
“Please, Master. Fuck me. Use me for your pleasure.” All yours. She repeated that in her mind, and then her mind was completely lost as he began to move.
He started with those slow thrusts forward and deep, dragging withdrawals that just devastated her, physically and emotionally. She loved having him on top of her, pinning her down, joined so closely. It made tears come to her eyes, the perfection of it all. As he started to pick up in speed and force, she held on, willing to go on the ride with him, now to eternity.
Her climax rekindled, the delay only concentrating it. His cock bruised, stretched and demanded more and more of her, and she met the challenge, clamping down on him, rippling her muscles along his length, holding his body tighter with the strength of her own. He would outlast her, because he was just that bloody strong, but as her strength flagged, he cinched his arm low on her waist, the other around her back, and he took over, driving into her so her body arched up like a doll’s, helpless to his power as he took her to the edge he desired.
Everything caught fire, so fast it took her by surprise, but then the overwhelming storm of it drove away everything. She’d never had a climax like it, her heart, mind and soul fully pulled into the moment so she was almost sure the universe had stopped moving on this one fixed point. She was biting his shoulder, her fingers raking his back, finding blood. She exulted in his savage grunts as he released, spilling himself into her. The first time Ben O’Callahan had given his seed to a woman rather than to a condom.
She was sure of it.
It pushed her even higher, and he rode her to the finish, pulling every aftershock out of her until she was begging for mercy, a mercy she knew he would deny her, thank God.
Her Master was ruthless, demanding, all hers. At least for this one, perfect moment.
I went to a dance for the new freshmen tonight. Most of it was the usual loud techno-pop stuff, but then somebody played that Allison Krauss version of “When You Say Nothing At All”. It made me think of you. I danced with a few guys, but mostly I just danced with part of a big group. It was nice, even though this one girl said I looked so serious, like I was studying for a test, instead of dancing. It occurred to me then that I’m used to you being the one who reminds me how to smile and laugh, and now I’ll have to do that all on my own. I guess that’s good. If I learn to do it on my own, I can remind you to smile and laugh when you get old and crotchety. Oh, forgot…you’re already old and crotchety.
Letter from Marcie
Chapter Ten
Dawn came. Even though it was beautiful, the sunlight on her face waking her in a bedroom that smelled like him and the musky scent of their sex, she knew from the first second something wasn’t quite right. It wasn’t just that he was absent. Her clothes had been laid out on a chair, and it looked like someone had ironed them. Ben probably had a bevy of domestic servants chained in his basement. She wouldn’t put it past him.
She held her breath, listening, then relaxed as she heard movement on the lower level. If he’d bailed on her, gone on in to work, he would have at least left her a note and some coffee brewing. He might be an emotionally repressed bastard about certain things, but common courtesy wasn’t one of them.
Pushing herself up, she saw he had left her a note, as well as a trio of Advil and a glass of water. A tiny wildflower lay on the note. Take the Advil, drink the water, and do another soak in a hot shower. Get dressed for work. Breakfast will be waiting downstairs.
He’d said they’d spend the day together, preparing to go to Progeny tonight. He’d changed his mind. Or maybe something had come up. It was a weekday, after all, and K&A sometimes needed their lawyer even on a planned day off. Yeah right. She picked up the wildflower, let it tickle her chin. It was a nice touch, but it still felt impersonal, removed. The type of thing a hotel might do. She’d figured out how he dealt with the women in his life, the easy charm that was devastating to their senses but didn’t quite reach his eyes.
Cass said he’d worked up some awesome, elaborate dishes for Savannah during her pregnancy, when she didn’t feel like eating anything else. For Nate’s most recent birthday, he’d arranged a paintball party a general would have admired for troop mobilization and attack strategy. When he extended true affection, love, he went all out with it. In the right mood, Ben was more…rough, natural.
He’d have crushed flowers over her sleeping form, covered her in petals. Twined the stems around her wrists, a gentle bondage. But this…this was distance. Her stomach tightened into a cold ball. Surely after everything they’d shared last night, he wouldn’t…
Yes, he would. Exactly because of what they’d shared last night.
She would take the shower, don the clothes because he’d told her to do it. It was her Master’s order and she wanted to be compliant. But if he wasn’t pulling back, work or no work, he would have wanted her to come down completely naked, still smelling of his scent. He would have had her kneel at his feet, fed her bits of breakfast from his fingertips as he read the morning stock reports, glancing at the flat-screen for live business news. She could live on that kind of detached connection like a drug.
Last night…there were no words for it. Until the reality, she hadn’t known exactly what it was she craved, what she could take. Two walls of his shower were mirrored, and even with the steam, they showed her his marks.
She had bruises on the back of her legs from the slapper that had felt like a doubled-over fire extinguisher hose, weighted down inside to make the thud that much more significant. There was stippling on her ass cheeks from the rattan cane. When he went after her with his favorite tool, a flexible paddle, the burning and stinging sensations had come so close together she couldn’t be still. At one point he’d laid his upper body over her back, pinning her down as she squealed from the pain.
She loved those marks, loved seeing them. She only hoped they weren’t the only things that would be around for the next couple days. Suppressing a sigh, she got out, dried off and picked up the bag that Cass had left. She wasn’t going to be fatalistic. She knew what she wanted, and she was going to get it. Ben wanted her to think she was imagining things she craved and he didn’t, but she had to believe she knew what she knew, or her courage would falter.
The convoluted nature of the thought gave her lips a wry twist. Opening the overnight bag, she saw the folded note, recognized Cass’ handwriting.
Jon said to remind you of this: To thine own self be true. This one’s from me: Be careful and know that I love you. I’m here.
It made tears prick her eyelids, but she pushed them back. She was going to be less weepy today, no matter that Ben had torn open every shield she had last night. All but the one guarding her determination to have him as her permanent Master.
Fortified somewhat, she tucked that note inside her bra and went down the stairs. Sunshine was bathing the breakfast nook. Ben was wearing fresh work clothes, charcoal slacks and an open white shirt, green and black tie hanging off the back of the chair. He was barefoot, his shoes polished and waiting by the counter island with a folded pair of socks. He was going to work. He wasn’t spending the day with her, at least not the way he’d said. Which meant he was likely backing out of taking her to Progeny.
She firmed her jaw, came into the kitchen. She’d stayed barefoot as well, but sat her heels down with a quiet click next to his shoes. He glanced up, though she expected he’d known the minute her feet crossed the upper landing. “Good morning. Have a seat and I’ll bring you your breakfast.”
“I don’t mind getting it.” She had to clear her throat, since the hoarseness from last night remained. He gave her a look.
“Sit.” His tone was congenial, but firm, so she sat. She would have moved toward him, tried for a kiss, a caress, but he’d already moved away, gesturing to her chair with detached courtesy.
That cold ball in her stomach was getting worse. Removing a plate from the oven, he brought her an omelet so fluffy it was a couple inches thick. She could smell the mixture of appetizing cheeses, and it was scattered with half spheres of fresh garden cherry tomatoes. A long time ago, he’d told her the key to good cooking wasn’t fancy combinations and syrup drizzled artfully on the plate, but fresh ingredients.
“This looks marvelous. Like the last meal for a death-row inmate.” She shifted her gaze to his face, kept her voice even. “What is this, Ben?”
“Eat your breakfast, then we’ll talk.”
She pushed the plate away. “No. If you were standing on the other side of the Grand Canyon, you’d be closer to me than you are now.”
“You’re being melodramatic.” He crossed his arms, leaned against the counter, his expression tight. There was a warning simmering in those green eyes, but she didn’t really care.
“I don’t think so. I’m talking in a calm, reasonable tone, just like you are.” The edge in her voice earned her a narrow glance, but she continued. “I’m not capable of enjoying a breakfast this good if there’s a ton of bricks already in my digestive tract.”
“I’ll pack it up for you then. Max will take you to work. Dana had a full schedule at the church and he was in the neighborhood. You can pick up the things you left in my office. I’ve had you reassigned to K&A’s research department on the fifth floor. Given your career specialty, you’ll learn more there. You’re an exceptional investigator, Marcie. You shouldn’t be wasting your time as my paralegal.”