Controlled Response
Page 20

A quick jerk of her head was all she could summon. No point in denying anything, for everything but truth was stripped away. She hadn't really acknowledged the truth of it herself until he showed it to her. A man she was all too willing to allow to master her. His eyes flashed. "So there you go, then. You don't think it's just sex between us anymore, do you?"
"You . . . know lots of things about women," she hedged. "All of you."
He nodded. "We do know lots about women. Enough that we know every one of them is a mystery, and those mysteries overlap, give us an avenue into the heart of the next treasure to unravel. But you're different. You're a mystery, Cassie, but from the moment I saw you in the glade, I knew there was a part of you that was open to me uniquely, clear as the blue sky, like your gorgeous eyes. So full of arousal, so worried. You're meant to be appreciated and cherished every day, just like that sky. Doesn't matter to me whether it's cloudy, sunny, or storm dark. You know me, too. The same way. That's why you make me crazy like this. Time has nothing to do with it."
Lowering his head, he put his mouth on her again. Sliding his hands beneath her hips, he began to move her in a rhythm against him, fingers teasing the cleft between her legs again, reawakening. all the nerves provoked by the earlier vibration.
Her head dropped back, snapped forward, the only part of her that could move with abandon, and she thrashed with it now, her blond hair sweeping over the satin mahogany finish of the table. Her movements whipped some of the strands across her mouth, then they fell away again. Unbidden, she imagined what it would have been like, having them all in here watching Lucas do this to her, claim her this way, with his mouth, with his ability to bring her to climax. A fantasy with a medieval flare to it, the bedding of the bride.
Marking his claim upon her as Matt had done Savannah. She pictured it as a dark and stormy night they had done that, the room dim like this, filled with the watchful stillness of aroused men, a woman's rasping breath like Saayo's, one man's eyes watching her every movement, knowing just when to move in and take her up to screaming climax before them all, calling his name.
Maybe an hour or two ago she'd have been flummoxed by this, as well as by Matt's relationship to his wife. She lived in a modern world where female independence was so strategically critical, and yet now it fit, made sense to her in a way that was entirely illogical, inexplicable. She'd say it was hormones, but he'd just given her an example that it wasn't. Not only in her desire not to be kissed by anyone but him, but in the apparently successful marriage between two people highly respected in the business world.
"First time in my mouth. Next time for my cock." Raising his head, he dug his fingers into her legs. "You will have lunch with me today, and then I'm going to take you somewhere, fuck you, and make you completely mine."
"Yes. Yes." She couldn't think about all the reasons that wasn't likely to happen. She just needed him now and she, the paragon of business integrity, would lie, steal, cheat—hell, maybe even kill, if it was some psycho criminal who deserved it—to have him consider her his, to belong to him, heart, soul, and mind, for at least these few minutes. She'd give herself this, even if it tarnished her to do it.
He held her gaze, though. "I won't let you lie to me, Cassie. It will happen, even if you try to back out."
She'd never heard more reassuring words, even knowing he'd likely be the one backing out. "Please, Lucas."
He nodded, lowered his attention again, and his mouth breathed on her.
"Oh, God." She strained against her bonds.
"Beg, Cassandra. Make it dirty. Ask for it the way I know you want it."
"Please . . . make me come. I want my pussy, hard against your face. I want to see my come on your mouth, your cheeks, know that you've rubbed your face all in it. I want your tongue fucking me."
And she let out a cry as he did just that, working into her, teasing her inside and out, his fingers tight, bruising, yanking her forward against her bonds to shove her against his face, making the chair rap against the table once before he let out an oath, pressed a control beneath the chair, freeing her arms. But she didn't want to be free.
Picking her up under the arms, he lifted her as if she weighed nothing, brought her down on the table, guiding her arms above her head. The magnets in the restraints clamped to each other as he crossed her wrists and left them there. Pulling her hips off the end of the table, he returned to his penetration of her, the wild licking of her clit and labia in a way that seemed to have no rhyme or reason but was bringing her to a sure, spiraling release.
She screamed long, her hips beating on the table, the world flashing with spots and colors. As she fought for air, she welcomed the stranglehold of the corset, of his restraints, of the brutal force of his hands. Her breasts were generous, milky white overflowing curves that drew and held his fascinated gaze. If things ended between them, as she knew they would, it would be months, maybe years, before she got it out of her head, the idea that he'd placed there. That the restraint of the corset was his restraint upon her. That she wore it for him. For the hope of a man like him.
She'd seen the fetish sites, her fantasies depicted in such a demeaning way she'd never allowed herself to think of it as more than a guilty private depravity that crept in when she sought to relieve her own frustration. Even then, in the aftermath, she'd passed it off*
as a typical woman's desire to be ravished by a forceful alpha male, nothing darker and needier than that.
But Lucas had opened up a different take on that world, one that could exist in the real world, that was gilded with the light of her true desires. In that world, he could stake his claim and not only bring her this kind of ecstasy, but give her a shelter in the storm.
Those embarrassing trappings of overly made up porn actresses with whips and leather corsets fell away from what it really meant. Protection and devotion, surrender.
Belonging.
Trust, surrender, and love. The bracelets. Oh, God, she was losing her mind.
She wasn't sure if she lost consciousness, but she might have. All she knew was when she tuned back in, she was no longer on the table. Lucas was on the floor, sitting on the cushioned carpet, his back against the wall. He was holding her in his lap, toying with those three open hooks of her corset, making brief caresses of her nipples that increased her trembling. He'd rearranged her skirt, though, and her shoes were neatly paired next to the two of them, waiting for her.
As he looked down at her, his eyes were filled with so many things, she found she couldn't think of what to say to him. With her emotions in a jumble, her mind fled into the refuge of numb shock.
But he spoke first. "I believe you have to let me take you to lunch now."
He wouldn't let her throw herself out the window instead of walking through the admin's office, where she could hear the other men talking. Since her sweater was stripped of buttons, he removed his dress shirt, under which he wore a white T-shirt, and put it on her, rolling up the sleeves. Though too large, worn over her dark shirt, it gave her an Annie Hall look her that was reasonably fashionable. She was coated in his scent. He wouldn't let her have her hair clip back, for he told her he wanted the corn silk of her hair spread out on her shoulders. As he examined her, he let his finger dip into the neckline, unbuttoned to the point he could tease the cleft between her breasts, the top refastened hooks of her corset.
"You shouldn't look like you won the war." She was proud when she found her voice at last. "Just a battle."
He'd told her she was different than other women he'd seduced. She was determined to act like it, even as she refused to let herself acknowledge the jealousy she felt about those others. It was misplaced, regardless, for she likely owed his incredible expertise to practice sessions with them.
"I'll look forward to any battle with you." His eyes were warm and distracting as they coursed over her, but then he surprised her by removing the bracelets with caressing hands. As he dropped to do the same with the anklets, he must have seen something that betrayed her surprisingly bereft reaction, for he dropped a kiss along the inside of her knee, making her shiver. He rose. "They're yours, sweetheart, but you have to ask for them back. And when you do, it will be because you've accepted you're mine. Let's go."
Whether it was the shock of digesting those words or the fact he'd reminded her she was about to go back in front of the team, she didn't realize she'd planted her feet until she rocked against his tug on her hand.
Since she was wearing the tall heels again, he was courteous enough not to yank. But he turned around, put both hands on her shoulders, leaning in so she had to meet his gaze and smell her own scent on his firm mouth. "Cass, this won't be bad, I promise. When a woman embraces her sexual desires, it doesn't place a mark against her intelligence or our respect for her. We don't share the crude and immature way our society views sex."
"Sure you don't." She struggled to find her tongue. "A bunch of guys—you're all above that."
A flash of teeth. "I didn't say we don't appreciate a naked female. But we appreciate her differently. At one time, most of us were as typical about it as you'd expect. But Jon taught us an alternative perspective. It's a sacred act, a gift you've given us tonight.
C'mon. Trust me."
With a little more coaxing on the same line, along with a half-teasing threat to just ravish her on the floor if she didn't move her ass, he was finally able to get her walking toward the front office area. She told herself the whole way she wouldn't bolt, though not doing so was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Which, considering her past, was saying a great deal.
When they stepped into the room, her heart jumped into her throat as they all turned.
However, Peter was closest, and he stepped to her immediately, drawing her away from Lucas and astonishing her with a strong-armed, reassuring hug, his body a hard bulwark against any shame or guilt. Absurdly, almost like a big brother. As he eased her back, he grinned down at her, as if the two of them were part of a planned conspiracy. "That was the best damn regulatory review I've ever attended. Think we should do that more often."