Afterlife (24 page)

his desk, because he

was wound up pretty tight and didn’t

need Ben making jabs

at his obvious, unrelieved erection.

For al that his

measures were going to give
her
a

pretty agitated yoga

class, let alone a restless night, he

didn’t anticipate

sleeping at al . The mere memory of

her responses had him

jacked up even harder, and he ful y

intended to observe the

same restriction he’d inflicted on her.

Next time he came, it

was going to be in her mouth or her

lovely, needy pussy.

He should have known the K&A team

didn’t need to see

it to know. Ben raised a brow. “You

should have let her

ease some of your pain, brother. You

look like you could go

off if one of us whistled Dixie at your

dick.”

“You’ve real y got to get over your

crush on him,” Lucas

advised. “It’s embarrassing to the

rest of us.”

“It’s those come-hither blue eyes and

that pale vampire

skin. Can’t resist.”

“Last month, it was me in my stretchy

bike shorts. Come

out of the closet and be done with it,

man. You know there’s

a reason you’re so into ass-fucking.”

“For sweet, soft asses that come with

a pussy, thank you.

None of you qualify. Though your

dick is so smal I might…”

Peter was studying Jon’s face. He

gave Ben a thwack

upside his head and Lucas a shove.

“Shut up,” he said.

“Our boy’s not in the mood.”

Jon drummed his fingers on the desk.

“I feel like a

fucking Viking raider pil aging a

convent of novices barely

out of puberty.”

“You’re on the right track,” Peter

said quietly. “I saw her

face, Jon. She needs what you’re

offering.”

“But at this pace?” Jon templed his

fingers and stared

moodily at his desk. “I normal y

don’t come at it like this.”

“You’re fine.” Lucas sat down on his

desk as Peter took

the couch and Ben propped on the

drafting table stool. “I’ve

seen you go into a dungeon, pick out

a woman who’s never

even met you and by the end of the

night, you’ve sent her to

Nirvana and back. You trust your

instincts more than anyone

I know. There’s only one reason

you’re not doing it now.”

“And why’s that?” Jon flicked his

glance at the CFO,

envying his relaxed posture, foot

propped against the desk

panel, arms crossed over his chest.

“Matt told you earlier, same as he

told me with Cass.

She’s the one. The one who matters

more than any woman

you’ve ever had. It’s fucking with

your radar, making you

scared shitless you’re going to screw

it up.”

When Jon shifted his attention to Ben,

the only

unattached male in the room, the

lawyer shrugged, spread

out his hands. “Happy as I am not to

be among the ranks,

I’m not going to argue with him. I’ve

watched it happen to

each one of you, and it’s too fucking

the same every time.

You go from being completely

content to enjoy a woman for

as long as it’s mutual y beneficial, to

zeroing in on one like

a stag in rut.”

“Nice image.” Lucas beaned one of

Jon’s stress bal s at

him. Ben caught it, but he didn’t turn

his gaze from Jon. “It’s

the real deal, boy-genius. And from

the little I saw, she’s

worth it.”

Jon rol ed his eyes at the nickname

Ben used to goad

him. “I swear to God, if I ever get

that gossip columnist over

a spanking bench…what the hel was

her made-up name?

Celeste De Mil e?”

“Don’t worry, took care of it.

Remember? You lost money

to me on it. She’s a little spitfire.”

Ben grinned, threw the

bal to Peter. “Not your type though.

Best stick with Rachel.”

“I wil .” Jon shifted his attention to

Peter. “You want to

weigh in on this?”

“Your girl was fucking irresistible,”

Peter said bluntly.

Sending the bal back to Ben, he

added, with another

wicked grin, “Gorgeous tits. If she’s

as hardcore as you

think, Dana would love to play with

her.”

Jon straightened in his chair. “What’s

Dana doing

tomorrow?”

Peter’s grin became a sexy, feral

smile. “Whatever I tel

her to do. After she checks her

calendar, that is. And tel s

me what I can do with my high-

handed attitude.”

“Pussy-whipped.” Ben rol ed his

eyes, fired the bal back

at him. When Peter rose and

instigated an impromptu

game of office footbal , sending

Lucas out for the pass, Jon

leaned back in the chair. He stil had

that tight feeling in his

gut, but they’d helped ease it

considerably. Peter knew he

wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.

Dana would know that

too, which meant if there was any

way she could help

tomorrow, she would.

At the deepest level of his mind, Jon

knew they were

right. About everything. The moment

he’d learned that

Rachel wasn’t married, something

primitive yet undeniable

had broken loose inside him. That

was another trait each

man in this room shared—when he

set his sights on

something he couldn’t do without,

failure was not an option.

Chapter Nine

He was the devil. A devil blessed

with irresistible hands,

a sorcerer’s voice and magical tools

that took away her

sanity. The evening class was

beginner level, thank al the

gods and goddesses, because if it had

been advanced,

she wouldn’t have survived it

without making a complete

fool of herself. She had no attention

span.

No, that wasn’t correct. She was

entirely
focused—on

what her body was feeling, on every

movement of that

serpentine chain along her spine,

around her waist, trailing

her hip bones, the friction of it

between her buttocks. Sitting

down tightened the chain along her

back and pul ed at the

col ar. Not in a way that blocked her

air, but made her

acutely aware of the petite padlock

on her nape. She’d

discovered there was another in the

smal of her back,

where the chain that ran between her

buttocks rejoined the

one at her waist. Together, the two

locks kept her bound in

that harness.

She’d worn loose yoga clothes as he

suggested, but

tucked in her shirt so only the col ar

with the padlock

showed. Since no one asked about it,

it had apparently

passed as some trendy Goth charm

jewelry.

She real y didn’t have any energy to

spare toward that

type of self-consciousness, anyway.

Her clit pulsed and

pounded inside that pliable metal

piece, and she was

acutely aware of the pressure of the

clamps that held it in

place and spread her pussy open

enough to drive her to

distraction.

Surprisingly though, the item that

captivated her the most

was the temporary col ar. Her fingers

kept coming back to

it, trailing along the edge,

remembering how it felt when

he’d buckled it, then snapped that

lock in place so she

couldn’t remove it unless she chose a

destructive method

like a knife. She wouldn’t do that.

He’d known her too wel .

Though she might resist a note left on

her bathroom

counter, she wasn’t capable of

removing a Master’s col ar.

Not one he’d placed on her.

When she got home, taken there by a

polite driver she’d

been too distracted to real y notice,

except that he was

handsome and physical y

intimidating, in a very female-

reassuring way, she fixed herself a

large mug of chamomile

tea. She tried to read the book he’d

told her to finish. It was

a romantic suspense with a few mild

sex scenes, hardly

graphic, yet every brush of contact

between the two

protagonists registered on her own

skin. No part of Jon’s

device impeded any bodily functions

or her natural range of

movement, but there was no way to

sit, lie down, stand or

move that didn’t increase the agony

of want.

When she final y fel asleep, it was

way past midnight.

She woke with her hands between

her legs, pressing on

that clitoral hood piece, massaging it,

her body within a

breath of climax. She snatched her

hands away as her

body rocked, her pussy spasming, stil

caught up in her

dream. Jon thrusting into her with his

hard, thick cock, his

hands clamped onto her hips, her

body arched up to him in

total surrender, legs locked high on

his back over those

tight, pumping buttocks…

“No, no…” She tried to thrash free of

the sheets, of any

type of contact against her flesh, and

ended up standing in

the center of her bedroom, swaying

as the blood rushed

alarmingly from her head. Her

freestanding ful -length mirror

was in front of her. She’d worn a

nightgown to bed, a flannel

one, as if wearing something total y

sexless and thick could

help. Unable to bear the cloth

sticking to her sweaty body,

she couldn’t get it off fast enough.

She stripped it off, along

with her cotton panties, kicked it al

away from her, breath

stil coming fast and hard.

She was afraid to look at the mirror,

but she couldn’t help

herself. The image shocked and

mesmerized at once. She

saw an exotic, feral creature whose

lips were parted and

wet, eyes wide and pupils dark with

lust. The slender chain

clung to her damp flesh, fal ing

between breasts tipped by

large, erect nipples. Her thighs were

wet from far more than

perspiration, her continuous arousal

now no longer stifled

by the cotton panties and the liner

she’d had to put there to

keep her from embarrassing herself

during the class.

A far cry from a mere day ago, when

she’d worried about

whether or not she could get excited

enough to produce her

own lubrication. As she watched a

bead of it rol down her

thigh, she couldn’t sort out her

feelings at al . She felt so

incredibly desirable, as if any man

near her right now would

smel how ripe and ready she was to

be taken. And yet,

he’d also see that col ar. Her hand

went to it now, curved

over it, felt the restraint. She

belonged to a Master. So they

could smel how slick she was, how

entirely…fuckable, yet

she was off limits. Until he came to

her.

Goddess, she was losing her mind.

Was this why he’d

done it? She couldn’t seem to have a

rational thought. How

was she going to make it through the

hours until their

dinner?

Turning toward the bathroom, she

turned on the cold

spigot in the tub ful blast. He’d told

her she better fol ow his

instructions, and one of them was

taking a bath. She’d take

another tomorrow—or rather, later

today—but right now

she’d immerse herself in the cold,

turn herself blue and

chattering if she had to do it, but she

had to relieve this

ache somehow. Her mind was stil

trying to tel her she was

making the biggest mistake of her

life, sliding down a hil

toward misery and humiliation,

disappointment. But that

weak voice couldn’t outshout her

body, what it wanted, what

it would have.

He’d known it. Damn him and bless

him both.

* * * * *

In the morning, she made an

unexpected decision. He’d

told her when he arrived that night,

he wanted her in only the

lipstick and red heels. She arranged

both out on the

bathroom counter, so she’d see them

while she was

cleaning and cooking, but she

decided not to wear any

clothes at al today. Somehow, it felt

right, as if he himself

might have pushed it that far, if he’d

thought she could

handle it. She could imagine the way

he’d say it.

You won’t wear clothes in your

apartment unless I

command it.
She also found it was

easier to bear the

friction of that harness he’d put on

her, though not by much.