Dark Citadel
Page 13

 Cherise Sinclair

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Dan held out his hand. How badly had he damaged her trust? She couldn’t possibly understand his behavior, considering he didn’t understand it himself. “Let’s talk.”
Her eyes wary, she chewed on her lip, and he hardened at the memory of how soft those lips had been. She shook her head, and his mouth tightened. He’d never forgive himself for—
“I must be crazy,” she muttered and set her hand in his.
The relief almost swamped him. He led her to a nearby couch and pulled her down beside him. She wore another long dress, but this one was silky and a true blue color that matched her eyes. The top dipped low enough to display the beginning curve of her breasts, and with her full figure, it was provocative as hell.
His plans had definitely changed for the night, from wanting to avoid her to wanting to strip her naked. If he could talk her into it.
Having regained her composure, she tapped a finger on his arm. “I got the impression that you were a one-night stand sort of guy.”
“I am.” He laid his hand over her delicate fingers, realized her hands were chilled, and clasped them in his. “To be honest, Kari, I don’t get involved with anyone. I’ve found that if I keep encounters to one night, there’re no hurt feelings.”
“Then why did you take me from—” She glanced toward the bar and Cullen.
A flare of jealousy bit into his stomach like acid for the second time in five minutes. Dammit. “I’m here; you’re here,” he said, keeping his tone light.
He paused. Honesty was essential between a Dom and sub; if he wasn’t willing to bare his thoughts, how could he demand the same from her?
“No, it’s more than that,” he said. He pulled her closer, slid an arm behind her back. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and me, but it’s not finished yet.” He looked away from her, and Marion’s face rose in his mind, more shadowy than normal. “When I lost my wife, I lost everything. I don’t have anything to give. Only sex for a night.” He didn’t have more. He didn’t deserve more. “So I can’t offer you a commitment other than I want you tonight.”
“That’s no commitment at all.” She stared across the room, her gaze on someone using the bondage table. After a minute, she shook her head like a dog shedding water. “But it’s enough. That’s all I want too. Just sex.”
“Well, that I can give.”
“I know,” she said under her breath, then looked at him with a smile. “I was looking forward to exploring more of this BDSM stuff, but the other beginners…” She frowned, obviously searching for the right words. “It seemed too much like the blind leading the blind.”
“Now that would be frightening.” He took her chin, looked into her eyes. “Are you afraid of me?”
She tilted her head. “Not…exactly. I trust you, but I’m a little scared of what you might do.”
“Well, little sub, that is the point. Do you remember your safe word?”
“Red.”
“Good.” He unclipped something from a metal ring on his left side. “I almost forgot your jewelry. Give me your wrists.”
She hesitated, then laid her wrists into his hand.
He buckled on fleece-lined leather cuffs. “What the well-dressed sub wears in the Shadowlands. Master Z would have been displeased if he’d seen your wrists naked.”
As she frowned at them, he pulled her onto his lap, his arms holding her against his big chest. She felt just right. “Now, let’s run through what might happen here tonight.”
“Okay.” Dropping her cuffed wrists to her lap, Kari leaned her head against his shoulder. Cullen probably would have been nice, but he wasn’t Master Dan. She really did trust Sir to keep her safe. His solid arms felt good—just right—around her.
At least until his fingers pulled down the zipper on the front of her dress. His hand slid under her bra and closed over her left breast.
“Wait.” She tried to pull away, but his other hand gripped her hip, holding her in place. God, she’d forgotten how strong he was, how big. Her insides quivered as her breathing increased.
“The restrictions for a beginner’s first night are gone, Kari,” he murmured, his thumb stroking her nipple to a hard peak, the controlled power of his grip making her shake. “Tonight, I can—and I will—take you, with my hands. My mouth. My cock. Any way I want. As many times as I want.”
With his hand on her breast, he could undoubtedly feel her breathing increase, her pulse speed up. “Your body likes that idea,” he whispered. “Your body is mine to play with, to restrain, to show off. Your only response to anything I want will be, ‘yes, Sir.’”
Need clawed into her as her insides turned liquid. She dampened.
As if he could tell—and he probably could, the jerk—he whispered, “Are you wet for me now, little sub?”
Her body didn’t feel like her own anymore. Yes, she’d wanted to explore sex here, but this was too fast. Too much.
When she didn’t answer, he removed his hand from her hip and tilted her head to meet his gaze. His eyes crinkled as he studied her face. “You’re flushed. Your pulse is hammering. Your breathing is fast. Kari, either answer my question, or I will check for myself. Right here.”
She gasped and closed her legs tightly at the thought of his hand under her skirt, right in the center of the room. This wasn’t at all like that isolated spot he’d found for them last time. Didn’t he understand anything about privacy? Discretion? Politeness? She pushed at his hand and gritted out, “Fine. I’m wet. Okay?”
The minute the words left her mouth, she remembered his response the last time she’d snapped at him, and her world tipped sideways.
His eyes went cold. “No, that answer is as far from okay as it can get. Open your legs for me now.”
“I will not.” She tried to move from his lap, and his grip tightened.
“Since you like multiple choice, here you go. A: You can be an example for the other subs when I drag you to the bondage table, strap you down, and let everyone see how wet you are.”
Her breath choked in her throat as horror filled her.
“Or B: You may apologize for your tone, and I’ll let you open your legs for me here.” He gave her a hard look, and she knew he’d do just what he said. “Which is it, little sub?”
“Here,” she whispered. “I’m sorry, Sir. Please stay here.”
He pulled her dress up to her knees, set a hand on her bare leg, and waited.
She tried to look around, to see if anyone could see her.
“Do it now, sub, and keep your eyes on me,” he ordered in a glacial voice. His command sent disconcerting heat washing through her.
Biting her lips, she eased her legs apart. His right hand stroked up between her thighs, forcing her to open farther until his palm pressed against her mound. She glanced down and turned red. Her dress was pushed up, barely covering her, and anyone could see the location of his hand.
People walked past the couch. A woman in a black bustier, fishnet stockings, and high heels glanced over and grinned. Over by the spanking bench, Buck stared at Sir, his mouth twisting into an ugly line. Then there were Master Raoul and Master Cullen at the bar…
With a low moan, Kari shoved at her skirt.
Master Dan sighed, lifted his left hand from her hip. “Give me that hand.”
Darn it, she knew what he planned—one arm pinned against his chest, the other in his grip. She’d have no choice but to let him do what he wanted.
He chuckled. “And that just made you wetter.” Oh, God, he had his fingers pressed into her crotch.
“Hand, Kari.”
Giving up, she set her hand in his. He closed his fingers around her wrist and set both their hands against her hip, holding her wedged in one place. She had a moment to feel her helplessness, and then he slid under the edge of her panties and pushed a finger inside her. Her hips jerked at the suddenness of the entry, at the flaring arousal that soared through her.
“Yes, you’re very wet.” His finger moved inside her, sent jolts of sensation through her. “Makes me want to bend you over the couch and bury myself in you.”
He could undoubtedly feel the way her vagina clamped down as well as she could. Oh, God.
“But I think we’ll go upstairs so I can take my time exploring your body.” His eyes crinkled. “You like that idea too, don’t you? Answer me, sub.”
“Yes, Sir.” His finger moved, stroked the walls of her vagina in erotic circles.
“Afterwards, I’ll bring you back down here.” He glanced at the St. Andrew’s cross. “I could strip you and bind you up there.”
She stiffened, the thought exciting. Appalling.
“Ah, not quite ready for that yet, are you?” He nibbled on her ear. “Even if I left your clothes on, I could put you in the stockade, lift your skirt, and take you there.”
His finger moved within her. “Not that yet, either, although the interest is there, isn’t it?”
She had no answer for him, confusion and fear and arousal so mingled inside her that she couldn’t think at all. The way he had her restrained with just his body, his hands, made her feel so strange. So needy. She looked at him, unable to speak.