Hot for His Hostage (7 page)

Most profoundly, how he fhad her blinking back tears because of the thousand ways
she felt connected to him already.

Dios
. They hadn’t even taken their shoes off.

Had she ever felt this way with Bryce?

Contemplating the answer made her clench teeth to fight off the tears.

“Whoa, baby girl.”
Great
. Their chemistry included him taking instant notice of her struggle, despite how
she tucked in her chin to hide it. He crossed to stand in front of her again, tugging
her face with a couple of long, beautiful fingers. “You’re not supposed to be crying…yet.”

She attempted a dismissive laugh. “And you’re not supposed to be smiling.”

He dipped his head. And the timbre of his drawl. “Is that so?”

“Doms don’t smile.”

“Hmm. Is that what it says in the ‘Dungeon Rules for Dummies’? Same place you got
the notion you’re a sucky subbie? Guess I missed that riveting bestseller.”

She looked back down and pressed her lips together. If she didn’t, a zinger of a retort
was certain to fly from them. She wouldn’t be able to sift the snark from the words,
either—which meant she’d get hammered with his
look
again. And now, any of the methods he’d choose to enforce it…

Ohhh, yes. Best to
callate
—shut the damn mouth—than lure out too much of the Dom who lurked so close to the
man’s surface. She wasn’t stupid. She only had a few hours of Shane’s time. A sweet
taste of his power and passion would have to be enough, so tempting him to share a
whole meal wasn’t something her senses, perhaps even her soul, could take.

She almost laughed aloud. There was a term for this kind of thinking.
Topping from the bottom.
If the man could hear all this buzzing in her synapses, would he still believe she
was a natural for this “subbie” stuff?

He interrupted her thoughts by sliding a finger back down to her chin and nudging
her gaze up once more. “Where you going, baby girl?”

Zoe blinked slowly. Clearly, his charge referred to emotional, not physical, distance.
“N-nowhere. Don’t gawk; it’s the truth. Honestly, I just—”

“Just answer my question, beautiful. It wasn’t rhetorical. How big is that mental
research paper of yours now?”

Mierda.
Connection or not, he wasn’t going to make this easy. With the arrogance in his stare
and the expectant angles of his brows, impossible only began to describe his persistence.

“Fine,” she snapped. “You really want to know? I
do
have a ‘list.’ A big one. And contrary to what you may assume, I didn’t just pull
it out of my ass.” She yanked her face away from his grip. “Were you
not
listening earlier? I’m not some starry-eyed girl who’s only read about D/s in romance
novels. I had a man in my life who cared enough to try it with me. I failed him.”
She shook her head, hating the way his eyes tightened and his jaw clenched. “So stop
it,” she seethed. “Just stop it with your brooding stare and your continuing mission
to dissect me, okay? I don’t want or need your damn Dommy pity.”

His features widened. “‘Dommy pity?’ Is that where you think I’m going?”

“It’s laser-etched in your eyes, Burnett. You think I’ve been ‘misled,’ maybe even
abused. You want to paint yourself as my he-man hero—and you’re so cute about it,
I wish I could grant you the wish—but the truth is, I don’t need one. I’m not a helpless
damsel, nor have I been anybody’s victim.” When his expression didn’t waver from its
skepticism, she exploded, “It’s the truth! It’s
my
truth. You need to accept it, okay?”
Dios
, his diligence was maddening. “You need to just be happy with it.
Sir
.”

The word spewed out of her as accusation instead of respect, a mistake realized much
too late. Tension washed over him like storm clouds on a mountain range.

Not just tension. She’d hurt him. He took this seriously. Took
her
seriously. It was already clear that he took the role of Dominant as an honor to
be accountable for, not an excuse for commanding a woman into sexual favors. That
alone earned him more awareness, arousal, and respect from her than Bryce ever had.

And echoed one set of words through her mind as his tight silence stretched on.

Ohhhh, shit
.

Her dread grew as he grabbed her shoulders then drew her to her feet. The refrain
continued as he slowly pulled her close, reminding her even more of the growing electrical
storm between them. When would his thunder break loose? His lightning? Her breath
hitched, her senses sizzling with consciousness. Every inch of his body was equally
taut, hard, commanding.

“Zoe. Look at me.”

His voice, soft as wind but strong as rain, pulled her head up. His golden gaze waited
for her, its ferocity barely leashed. What was he thinking? What did he plan to do
with her?

Damn. Damn. Damn.

She was scared. Really scared.

And had never been more aroused in her whole life.

Her whole body confirmed the conflict. Her shoulders burned where he still held her,
though now the heat radiated down her arms, across her chest, sending merciless stabs
into the tips of her nipples. The center of her belly, awakened from the edict of
his huge erection, curled with anticipation. Her thighs clenched against the muscled
ropes of his, sending wonderful tingles to the tips of her toes.

“I’m sorry,” she finally rasped.

His stare, fascinating as smoked copper, dipped to the lip she nervously bit. “Why?”

She glanced away. Zoe knew he watched every moment of the action, making it more important
to get her answer right—including its contrition. “Because…I suppose I’m being a brat.”

“Hmmm.” He rubbed circles into her shoulders with his thumbs.
Dios
, even that felt good. “That’s probably true. Anything else?”

She pushed out a little huff. “Fine. You’re probably right about the dungeon research
paper.”

“Approaching a mini novel?” He kept his baritone low and controlled. And thoroughly
captivating.

She indulged one more tiny fume before admitting, “Yes. Probably.”

The copper clouds in his gaze changed into intense smoke. “And you
like
all the ‘facts’ you’ve learned? Is that it?”

His adamancy stunned her into silence.
Vaya.
Burnett actually thought she might answer him
yes
—and hadn’t reacted by ordering her to her knees, yanking at her hair, or ripping
off her top. Though the options sounded like paradise, what he’d really done was a
huger broadside. Knowingly given her a peek at his vulnerability. Wasn’t that a big
“Dommy Don’t” in a lot of books, not just the ones she’d read for her “research project?”
Yet the moment sealed her fascination with him deeper than anything since they’d met.
It made her yearn to reach to him, learning the new lines of his face even as she
soothed them…

She surrendered to the craving. Then rejoiced as he did the same.

He was beautiful. She reveled in stroking the fullness of his eyebrows, the strong
slope of his nose, the forceful cliffs of his cheeks. As Shane explored her face the
same way, she felt a smile bloom.

A silent reverie…a perfect proxy for time.

She’d called her best friend with the knowledge she’d be getting naked with this man,
but couldn’t imagine nudity being more magical than this. Or more intimate. The man,
already so stunning, stole even more of her common sense with the intensity of his
concentration. He smiled while tracing the little curves at the bottom of her nose,
then while drawing a finger into the deep indent of her upper lip…even learning how
ticklish she was at the base of her ears.

In return, she discovered a lot of new things about him too. Scars. The man was riddled
with them. One at the base of his throat. Another hidden just inside his hairline.
A few nicks along the left side of his neck. He’d either moonlighted as a stunt man
five miles north in Hollywood, or had been through a few war zones. While she burned
to complete the riddle, she also sensed the answer wasn’t as simple as one sentence—even
if he were inclined to give it.

She gave herself over to
this
moment, instead.

As Shane’s fingers learned more of her physically, he opened more of her spirit. Zoe
relinquished the energy with willing trust, because
he’d
gifted it to
her
first. The feeling was surreal. She knew Shane still controlled every moment of what
happened, guiding every touch and stare they gave each other, yet she’d never felt
more important in her entire life.

Was
this
the beginning of what D/s was all about? Was this why so many referred to it as a
“power exchange” and raved about the purity of its connection?

Her soul echoed with the only answer that made sense.

Yes.

Her heart joined the chorus as Shane formed a frame around her face with his hands,
tilting her head up for a long, deep kiss.

He took over her senses in a different way than before. The storm still gathered in
him but the front was more potent, requiring more power, needing her submission. He
kissed her deeper, not harder. He didn’t leave a corner of her mouth unexplored. His
mouth widened her with carnal intent, demanding more. He used her tongue as a plaything,
sucking it then giving it back, twirling it in time with the whimpers she emitted,
beseeching him to do more.
Yes…more…
 

She couldn’t be blamed for the urgency. Just his kiss revved her blood better than
her favorite vibrator, especially during the moments when he backed away, letting
her anticipate his next action. Every nerve ending in her body leapt in awakening.
A thousand drums began needy tattoos in her sex. Her lungs started rationing her breath
to her throat.

She seriously started to hate her clothes.

Shane’s face betrayed his concurrence. No more smirks. No more persistent charm. The
storm had taken command, darkening his eyes and clamping his jaw. His arms coiled
as he plummeted his hands down her back, grabbing her shirt in fistfuls, the movements
timed to his rough breaths.

He held back on kissing her again. Instead, he watched her face with while sweeping
his hands beneath her shirt. His stare heated as he clawed the length of her spine
with his fingernails, eliciting a keen deep in her throat.

“Sh-Shane,” she stammered. “That feels so—ahhh!”

She gave up the scream as he dropped his head to scrape her neck with his teeth. Shivers
cascaded as he followed the sharp burn with the silken perfection of his tongue. After
sweeping both hands over the solid perfection of his chest, she jammed into his hair
to urge him on. The strands were thick and soft and perfect in her grip.

He groaned deep while suckling his way to her ear, shoving back her hair with his
nose in order to bite the flesh there with more force. The surge of pain jacked her
heartbeat, making her shriek the same second her bra snapped free beneath his fingers.

“Perfect.” His husky praise resonated through her ear. “You’re so fucking perfect,
baby girl.”

His adoration made her head spin. Her blood simmer.

Before her world careened.

Everything in the room spun before her eyes as he twirled her around, making her face
the bed. He anchored her by yanking her back against him, but not before shoving her
shirt over her head and letting her bra tumble free after it.

Zoe gasped as her nipples responded to the air conditioning, though she owed just
as many shivers to his big, conquering hands, marking every inch of her exposed flesh
as his willing territory. His touch was hot and bold, claiming her in giant swaths
from the waist up until he scooped his fingers around both breasts. She cried out
in pleasure and agony as he squeezed until her nipples jutted into his palms.

Her head fell back against his shoulder. She moaned, once more breathing in the forest
musk of his scent as his thumbs rolled against her skin. He closed in those seductive
circles, nearing the center of her breasts with each rotation. “Ohhhh,” she whispered.
Her eyes drifted shut as he licked from the bottom of her ear to the top of her shoulder.

Vaya
, what his touch did to her, how exquisite he made her feel. God had skipped her on
the way to endowing Ava with the great boobs in the family. Though Zoe always made
the most of hers by working with costume designers on strategic padding, their nude
truth was something her lovers tolerated instead of appreciated. But caught beneath
Shane’s touch, she was a goddess. Adored. Caressed.

“
Ay
!”

And pinched. And tugged. Hard. Then again. She screamed again, trying to buck against
him.

“Sssshhh.” The bastard was calm to the point of infuriating. “Breathe for me, Zoe.
That’ll help you process it better.”

“Process
it
?” she flung. “You mean your torture pinchers?”

He sucked at the curve of her ear once more. “It’s only my fingers, beautiful. Not
even real nipple clamps. Though fuck, these sweet little cherries would look incredible,
squeezed by a pair of pretty clamps. I’d buy you a pair with dangling sapphires to
match that fire in your eyes…” A growl took over his tone as he closed his fingers
again. When he started twisting at her nubs as well, rolling and tugging, she squirmed
harder.