ARROGANT MASTER (9 page)

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks.

“Throwing this away.” I grab the melting cup of chocolate
grossness and trudge to the nearest trash receptacle, chucking it just hard
enough not to cause a scene.

Cortland stands up and walks over to me placing his hands on
my shoulders and turning us so our faces are away from the watchful eyes of my
parents. “Keep sweet, Bellamy. Don’t make a scene. Remember, they’re watching
us.”

He turns behind us before glancing around the small ice
cream shop.

“Follow me.”

“Where are you going?” I ask.

He says nothing, but I follow him to a small alcove behind
the front of the shop because what other choice do I have?

“I’ve been dying to get you alone for weeks,” he says, the
second we’re hidden from view. His lips press into the flesh below my jaws, and
his greedy hands slip over my breasts taking squeezing handfuls.

“What are you doing?” I push him off me with what little
resistance I have against his sturdy build.

He pushes his whole body into me again, ignoring my obvious
discontentment with his behavior.
 
“Don’t
you miss this, Bellamy?
You, me, backseat of my car.
I
miss your taste, your scent, those lips wrapped around the best part of me.”

Cortland’s hips jut into mine, and I feel his hardness
through the fabric that separates us.

“You’re so addictive,” he moans.

I inhale a mixture of frigid air, dairy smells, and
Cortland’s cheap aftershave, but right now I’d give anything for a whiff of
Dane’s cologne. He smells like fine soap and expensive leather and top shelf
whiskey and the kinds of things I’d never dreamed about until I met him.

“Soon,” he breathes into my ear. “Soon, we’ll be married,
and I can have all of you, all the time.”

That’s what you think.

“We’ve only been courting for seven weeks officially,” I
say. “I’m not on some fast track to getting married. I still need to decide if
you’re right for me.”

“The decision’s been made, sweetheart.” His hand runs from
my right breast down the s-curve of my hip before settling on my backside where
he gives it a commanding squeeze.

I fight the wave of tears that threaten to consume me.
Powerlessness has never been a good look for me.

“We should get going. My dad’s going to wonder where we
went.”

Cortland nods toward a drinking fountain. “Just tell him we
went to get some water, and you had to use the restroom and I waited for you
out here like a gentleman would do.”

“You’ve got an answer for everything.”

He thinks I’m teasing, and he smiles like he considers
himself some brilliant bastard.

***

“Goodnight, Bellamy.” Cortland stands a careful distance
from me in the driveway the main house. “I’ll be over again tomorrow.” He
glances at my parents. “Of course, if that’s okay with Mr. and Mrs. Miller.”

Mom claps her hands against her heart, her face twisting
into a ridiculously pleased expression.

“Absolutely, Cortland.” Dad stands with his hands on his
hips, nonchalantly asserting his dominance over the entire situation the way he
always does. “You know, it’s about time we meet your folks. Why don’t we plan a
big dinner this Saturday afternoon? Weather should be good. We can grill out.
Eat outside. Would be fun.”

“Oh, yes,” Mom agrees. “I’d love to meet your mothers.”

“Sure,” Cortland says. “My parents have met Bellamy at Bible
study, but I know they’d love to be able to sit down with you all and forge a
closer bond.”

He speaks my father’s language better than anyone else I
know.

The three of them all turn to me, like they all share one
brain.

“Yes,” I say, offering up a fake yawn. “That sounds
wonderful. Well, I don’t know about you all, but I’m beat. Going to head up
now. Goodnight, Cortland.”

I give a quick wave, since we’re not allowed to touch or
kiss or hug, and head inside with a grateful heart: grateful that this night is
finally over.

DANE

“How was your evening?” I bump into her, of all places,
outside the elevator. She’s early today. Thirty minutes.

She grips the straps of her shoulder bag tight, and I motion
for her to go on first. I am, all things considered, a gentleman.

“It was good.” Her words have no flavor to them at all.
They’re blanched and bland. She stares straight ahead like she’s in a fog.
“Yours?”

“My night was wonderful. Thank you.” I press the button to
the fifteenth floor and lean against the railing. A faint perfume fills the
small box we share, and I drag her scent into my lungs without her so much as
noticing. Gardenia. That’s what it is. Only it’s not as heavy. It’s mixed with
something else a bit lighter and complementary.

I love it. It’s subtle and elegant and doesn’t scream for
attention like so many of the obnoxious fragrances women wear these days.
  

The doors ding and separate, and I motion for her to leave
first. When she exits, she waits for me to walk next to her.

“I take it you did some thinking last night?” I state the
obvious because obviously she wouldn’t be here today if she changed her mind. I
slip my key into the double doors that lead into the reception area. It’s just
us two for at least the next twenty minutes. I normally use this time to clear
my head and prep for the day, but today I’ll make an exception.

Besides, she was extra early today.

For
me
.

To please
me
.

Her
master
.

“Absolutely,” she says. “I’m fired up now more than ever.”

I lick the curve of my lower lip as I try not to show the
intense amount of pleasure I get from hearing her say such a thing.

“Excellent. I’ve got a conference call at eight-fifteen, but
after that, I’ll make sure Marlene blocks out my schedule so we can continue
your training.”

She slips into her office, and I head to
mine
and wait
.

And wait.

And wait.

My fingers drum the wood top of my desk, reaching distance
from my phone, and when it finally rings, I clear my throat, let it ring three
more times and answer.

“Yes, Bellamy?”

“What is all of this?” She’s breathless, and my only regret
is not being there in person to see her face.

The effect wouldn’t have been the same, though.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that,” I
tease.

“The boxes, Dane.” Her words are rushed, jumbling into one
another. “These, these things. Are they all for me?”

“Every last item in those packages was hand-selected for you
by my personal shopper.”

My subs only have the best. Red-bottomed shoes. Designer
jeans.
Red-carpet
worthy party dresses.
French-tailored suits for the office.
Italian
leather purses and belts.
A collection of high-end
cosmetics that would make a makeup artist jealous.

“These things, they’re too expensive for me,” she says. “I-I
can’t take these. I can’t accept these…”

“You
can
and you
will
. Now stop blathering and come to my
office. I’d much rather you show me how excited you are.” I go to hang up, but
instead pull the phone back to my ear. “Oh, and Bellamy. Bring the pale pink
box with the black satin ribbon.”

A minute later she raps on the door.

“Come in.”

That’s good. She’s learning fast.

Bellamy carries the pale pink box and curious expression on
her pretty face.

“Go ahead. Open it.” I fold my hands across my stomach and
sit back as she takes a seat across from me.

She sets the box across her thighs and tugs on the end of a
ribbon until the knot loosens. When she pulls the lid off, her eyes trail from
the neatly folded velvet negligee to me and back.

“What’s this?” She lifts it up like it’s made out of china
and not crushed velvet the color of a lustrous midnight. Her cheeks flush
instantaneously. “You want me to wear this for you sometime?”

“I want you to wear this for me
now
.”

Spreading it across her lap, she runs her hand along the
tickling texture while biting her lower lip.

“Don’t tell me you’re shy about your body.” I sit up, my
eyes departing the fullness of her lower lip and scaling the length of her
luscious curves.

She glances up at me. “I’m not shy about my body; I’m just trying
to picture how this is going to look on me.”

“That’s not for you to worry about, Angel,” I say. “I’m the
only one who’ll ever see you in this, and I know for a fact you’re going to
look sexy as sin.”

“Thank you, Master.”

“You can thank me by putting it on.” I motion toward my
private en suite bath.

After the longest ten minutes of my twenty-eight-year-old
life, Bellamy emerges in the crushed velvet ensemble. The bones of the bustier
hug her rib cage and push her breasts high, creating two soft mounds that
instantly illicit swelling in my cock.

“Don’t be modest, Bellamy.” I head across the room to wear
she’s anchored in the doorway. My hands rest on her hips, and I pull her against
me. She sucks in a quick breath and flashes an awkward smile that makes me
think she feels silly. “You look fucking incredible.”

Her clear eyes search mine though I’m not sure for what. If
she’s looking for my approval, I’m not sure what more I can do besides press
her against my hard cock. That’s my endorsement right there.

“And you’re going to look even more amazing on all fours
sucking my cock while I take my conference call this morning.” I make this
about sex, because that’s what it’s about, and the last thing I need is for her
confusing palpable lust with romance.

Big difference.

Romance implies love, and I’m not a man capable of such a
thing. You can’t give something you’ve never received, and I’m not about to
start now.

I grip her wrist lightly and spin her around, biting my lip
when her perfect ass comes into view. My free hand takes a generous handful
before slicking around her hips to her front side. My fingers tap the fabric
just above her mound, and she quivers against me.

“How does it make you feel knowing there’s only a thin piece
of fabric dividing my fingers and your most private place?” I breathe into her
ear.

She doesn’t answer. Instead, her head falls back against my
shoulder, and I press my fingers against her, feeling the outline of her lips
through the crotch of the panties. My fingers massage with just enough pressure
to elicit the faintest moan from her pretty mouth.

And then I stop.

“Your pleasure is in my hands,” I say, turning her to face
me. “Literally and otherwise. Do you understand, Angel?”

“Yes, Master,” she pants.

“You will come when I tell you. You will only pleasure
yourself under my command. And no other man can so much as touch or taste any
part of you. Is that also understood?”

“Yes, Master.”

“You belong to me.” My hands hook the side of her hips.
Unable to go another moment without touching her in some way, my mouth finds
her a soft spot just below dip of her collarbone. First I kiss, and then I
suck, pulling her between my teeth and then letting go. She’ll have a mark, but
it’ll be the first of many, and it won’t hurt. “You are mine, Bellamy.”

Her eyelids flutter closed. She stands glued in place,
waiting for my next command when the phone rings.

“On your knees, Angel.”

She follows me back to my chair where I sink down and
recline back slowly. Bellamy drops to her knees, positioning herself on the
floor between my thighs.

My cock throbs, fighting the confines of my Italian silk
boxers.

“Dane speaking,” I answer.

Bellamy reaches for my belt, running her hand along the
outline of my cock in the process. Her delicate hands work steadily. First a
faint click of the belt, then the silent pop of a button, and finally the slow
unzipping of my suit
pants
.

She tugs on the waistband of my boxers until I’m fully
exposed, and she rises slightly, though still very much on her knees, and
presses the head of my cock just enough against her lips that I feel their
heat.

She’s killing me here, and I love every second of it.

“Mr. Townsend, are you still there?” The woman on the other
end says. “I’m connecting Nashville and Piedmont. Bear with me.”

She sounds like a sweet grandmother type, not that I’ve ever
known one of those in real life.

“Yes, I’m still here,” I say into the receiver as the
opposite party lines up the conference call.

Bellamy inserts the tip of my cock into her warm mouth,
greeting me with her wet tongue.

I melt.

I fucking
melt back into my
chair.

Her mouth is heaven. “Oh, God…Angel…”

She takes my length, her hand gripping the base lightly. The
way she attends to me like I’m some kind of delicacy takes me to a whole other
level. Bellamy is a class act. No question. I knew from the moment I saw her.

She stops after a moment, her baby blues gazing up at me as
if she needs reassurance.

“Don’t stop, Angel. I’ll tell you when I’ve had enough.”

Which will probably be
never…

“Dane, you there?” A gruff voice booms into the phone damn
near stealing my moment.
Thank you, David
Bellows in Piedmont
. One glance at the gorgeous blonde with her bee-stung
lips around my cock brings me right back though.

“I’m here.” I glance at my pewter desk clock and release a
harbored breath. “Can we carry on? Everyone connected yet?”

“Yes, we’re all here,” another man says.

“Great,” I say. “Did you receive the preliminary schedule
Marlene emailed out yesterday?”

Bellamy pulls me out of her mouth and cocks her head,
licking me from a completely different angle.
 
A jolt of electricity zips along my
center, and my legs tense. It’s all I can do not to lose myself in this, but
I’m the king of self-control, and I decide when I come.

“Yes,” they say in unison.

“Dane, I had a problem with the solar panel systems seminar
running the same time as the battery systems.” David sounds like a smoker with
a perpetual batch of phlegm in the back of his throat, but I ignore it. “Some
of my men attending the conference would like to attend both seminars, and I
think you’ll find many others will feel the same way. This schedule isn’t going
to work, and you’ll be hard pressed to find a lot of companies sending their
best employees out to a highly anticipated and poorly organized convention.”

She inserts the entirety of me into her mouth once again. I
could lose myself in the warmth of her mouth.

“I agree,” the guy from
Nashville
echoes.

“Gentleman.” I force control into my tone. “I can assure you
this is the best schedule for the convention. I should know. I organized it
myself.”

“But you didn’t take into consideration the fact
that–”

“–
did
either of you take into
the consideration that the highly sought after speakers I’ve hired, industry
geniuses and revolutionaries I might add, have busy schedules? And that maybe,
just maybe, those were the only times we could make those seminars work?” My
words bark and bite. “I’m slightly insulted that you would accuse me of chopping
some hack job schedule together with no consideration of scheduling conflicts.”

“Dane,” Nashville says. “That’s not what we meant.”

“This is the schedule.” My voice escalates, deeper and
faster, and Bellamy’s movements correspond like we’re completely in sync. “This
is how it has to be. All lectures will be recorded, and all attendees will be
able to take home audio recordings on flash drives. No one will miss a thing.”

My cock electrifies, pressure building up in the base. I’m
seconds from erupting, and I fully intend on doing so before one of those
numbskulls utters another word and yanks me out of this erotic stupor.

I slam the receiver against the table and grip the sides of
my chair as Bellamy licks and sucks and manipulates my throbbing cock with her
perfect mouth.

I explode.

Bellamy doesn’t miss a beat. She keeps going until she’s
sucked me dry.

“Dane? Dane you still there?” Their voices come through the
receiver like they’re millions of miles away. I press the phone back up to my
ear, nodding at Bellamy. She rises in one fluid movement and gently wipes the corners
of her mouth before sauntering to the bathroom to change.

I haven’t given her permission to change, but there she
goes.