Knight's Game (24 page)

She didn’t move.

He exhaled softly, ignored her filthy look. ‘I have all night – fuck, a week if you want. You’re the one concerned about my sister. Should I turn on the TV while you’re trying to make up your mind if you want to fuck or not?’ he asked mildly as if he didn’t have a mammoth hard-on, as if he could control his dick like he controlled everything else in
his world. ‘There’s an NBA game I wouldn’t mind watching.’ He reached for the remote on the two-sink vanity.

The bathroom was as big as her living room; even the TV was pretty huge for a bathroom, and placed conveniently on the wall at the foot of the marble tub. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder as he flicked it on and clicked on ESPN.

‘God damn it,’ she spat. ‘Do you ever give an inch?’

He shifted his gaze from the TV to her. ‘You have no idea,’ he said drily. ‘We’re not talking inches, we’re talking miles, fucking continents. So stop breaking my balls.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah, really.’

It was part grumble, part annoyance. It was also sweeter than hell because underneath he was saying he couldn’t stay away. ‘I’m done breaking your balls.’ Her smile was filled with possibility. ‘I apologize for any inconvenience.’

He laughed. ‘Thanks. I feel better now about you totally fucking up my life.’

‘Maybe I could make it up to you.’

He hadn’t heard that pure, clear willingness before, the unquestioning consent and permission. He didn’t even think twice. He went for it. ‘Maybe you could take a look at my whips.’

Her gaze came up swift and hot. ‘That doesn’t do anything for me.’

After a lifetime of docile women, he didn’t actually mind her intransigence. He liked the challenge. But then he was
on the distant shore of fucked-up. ‘Let me file that away,’ he murmured sardonically, ‘for future reference. Right now, I’m waiting. He’s waiting. Move.’

‘Watch it,’ she snapped. ‘Or your dick might suffer.’

‘You watch it. Or I might carry you out naked past all the gawking guests and screw you at home.’

Her eyes were huge. ‘You wouldn’t.’

‘I wouldn’t take the gamble if I were you.’ His gaze flicked downwards, then up, his brows faintly raised.

Her cheeks flushed, her mouth firmed, but she slid her hand down his stomach, curled her fingers around his erection and carefully worked it up past his zipper.

‘There’s a good girl,’ he said pleasantly, as if he hadn’t baldly coerced her. ‘Get on your knees, give him a little taste of your mouth and then we’ll decide how we’re going to fuck. Your way or mine.’

She shot him a poisonous look.

‘If only looks could kill, Katherine,’ he drawled, his smile wicked. ‘I suggest you do what you’re told or a helluva lot of people will be seeing your amazingly fuckable body.’

She lowered herself to her knees under his smug gaze, took his pulsing dick in her hands, pulled it away from his body. His erection was hard as nails; she could feel the torque in her wrists as she hauled him downwards to her mouth and licked a path up the velvety flesh.

He groaned softly, gripped her shoulders. ‘Slowly now,’ he murmured. ‘It’s not a race.’

She instinctively complied with the corrupting authority
in his soft command, as though her senses were trained to respond, as though she had no will or, perhaps more practically, her body understood the rewards for compliance. Her nipples instantly peaked, her sex turned liquid, feverish anticipation coiled deep inside, ignoring all her unresolved resentments.

But his threat was real and whether she loved or hated his authority, either she did what he wanted or he’d carry her naked past all the guests.

She didn’t for a second question his audacity.

Straightening her spine, she stretched to fully accommodate him with her mouth. Then, dipping her head, she readjusted her grip on his rigid dick, sliding her fingers upwards slightly to guide his swollen crest to her mouth. Her jaw strained as she opened wide to ease what she could of the huge erection past her lips, her sex fluttering, warmth spreading between her legs as she selfishly wished his mouth was doing her or, better yet, his dick.

‘Deeper,’ he grunted, tapping her cheek.

Asshole.
If her mouth wasn’t full, she would have sworn at him. On the other hand, if she wanted to feel him inside her soon, if a selfish
quid pro quo
was on her agenda, she’d do well not to offend. In fact, might he oblige her now if she asked? She began to pull away to do just that when his hand cupped her head, dragged her back and the broad, smooth head of his dick hit the back of her throat. She choked, he exhaled in a hoarse groan and, as his quads gently flexed against her forearms, he breathed, ‘Jesus fucking Christ.’

His strained expletive echoed hotly in her aching core. She felt her breathing quicken, heard Dominic’s muted groans as he began to move again and she experienced a small moment of triumph knowing she could do that to him. The ruthless master of the universe was vulnerable after all. She glanced up. His eyes were shut, his hands pressed against the door, his breathing ragged.

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he growled, ‘Don’t stop,’ and her sweet sense of victory was swiftly curtailed. He forced the rhythm again, half choking her for a second until she grabbed one of his balls in warning. He swore, but his grip loosened. ‘Watch it, baby.’ He spoke in a rasp. ‘It’s your toy too.’ Brushing the pad of his finger over the verge of her upper lip, he watched his dick slide in, dragged in a sharp breath at the fantastic rush and then guided the motion more benevolently. Slowly in, her mouth warm and wet, her lips tensile slick as she sucked him in, the explosive jolt as the head of his dick prodded the back of her throat so staggering each time his reflexes were momentarily numbed and he forgot to breathe.
Jesus … fuck.
Then he’d come round, start breathing again, restlessly watch his dick slide out of her mouth and wait for the next incredible head-banger kick.

It was unhurried splendour; Dominic wanted it to last. With both feet in the grave he’d still remember these moments, he thought, his low, muffled grunts calibrating the insane bliss, validating Katherine’s truly fuckable mouth.

Dominic’s deep, guttural intonations, his hoarse pleasure sounds reverberated with primal intensity through Kate’s vulnerable senses, wildly provoked and aroused, as if her body were blindly in sync, as if her carnal passions automatically responded to his voiceless grunts, as if on some Darwinian level she was responding to Dominic as dominant male.

Her nipples were tight and hard, the throbbing deep inside audacious, her impatience for him, for sex, frenzied. He had only to exert his authority, insist on obedience, and rather than be repulsed, she yielded with shameless anticipation. As if her body had been trained to recognize his cues, to submit without question, to uncompromisingly please him.

‘Stop.’ A blunt, grating command, quickly effected, his palms pressing hard against her face, holding her prisoner, his dick filling her mouth.

Startled, her gaze came up in alarm. The venue, her servile position, Dominic’s unpredictability all wrapped up into a troubling scenario.

‘Am I hurting you?’

His hands were warm on her cheeks, his fingers gently massaging his erection through her skin. She tried to shake her head in answer.

Whether he understood or her response didn’t matter, he smiled. ‘Do you like it when I have this much power over you? Do you like to service me, baby? I sure as hell like it,’ he murmured, clearly not requiring an answer. ‘Move now,’
he said softly, releasing his grip. ‘Slowly. Oh, fuck … that’s good. You’re learning, baby.’ He slowly exhaled, gently flexed his hips, shut his eyes briefly as she gasped, took him deeper and the world went still for a second. ‘You’re getting good at this,’ he breathed a moment later when his brain started up again. ‘Maybe we could teach you to
like
it rough. Maybe with enough repetition you’ll learn to like it any way I want.’ Grabbing her chin, he abruptly withdrew his dick, forced her head up. ‘What do you say, baby? You always like to come. You’re willing to do just about anything for that, aren’t you? So you’ll learn, won’t you? Answer me, baby.’ His fingers were leaving marks on her face; she couldn’t move her head. ‘Blink for yes.’

She dragged in a breath, tried to ignore the hard pulsing between her legs, the powerful raging lust screaming through her senses. A second passed, his fingers bit deeper. She blinked.

He smiled faintly. ‘Good girl. But then you have a real appetite for fucking, don’t you?’ he said, low-pitched, a strange steely undertone to his comment. Releasing her chin, he smoothed his fingertips over the angry red marks in a considering gesture, as though reviewing his options. Then he leaned over, slid his hands under her arms, lifted her to her feet. ‘Maybe it’s time to teach you some useful skills. Undress for me. Leave your bra on. I like to see my tits bound. Clear?’ Each word was clipped and brusque, uncompromising. ‘Speak, Katherine.’ He dipped his head, his smile wicked. ‘Or blink if you prefer. I’ll get the message.’

‘You’re such a prick,’ she hissed even as every shimmering nerve ramped up for action, even as the moist ache of desire was making her desperate.

‘But you want it anyway, don’t you, baby?’ he said gently, as if he had X-ray vision and could see her brainwaves, her pulsing core. ‘Answer. You’re wasting valuable fucking time.’

She hated herself for wanting him, deep down and visceral, she really did. And for a flashing moment she wondered if she could refuse him. But she wasn’t that self-sacrificing and he wouldn’t let her anyway.

‘Yes, you son of a bitch.’

‘You swear a lot. We’re going to have to clean up your mouth.’

‘Fuck you.’

His thousand-watt smile was instant and insolent. ‘Moody, but a recognizable verb. As soon as you’re undressed, baby, we’ll work on the fucking lessons.’

Damn his breathtaking good looks and hard-ass body, his outrageous sex appeal and gigantic dick. Had a woman ever said no to him?

He lightly tapped her bottom lip in a flagrant gesture of possession. ‘I appreciate your interest, but get rid of the clothes.’ He swept a fingertip along the underside of one breast. ‘Remember, leave the bra on.’

Lounging against the door, he watched her, his gaze half-lidded while she slid off her shoes, unzipped her jeans, wiggled out of them. He looked amused as she folded her
jeans and set them on the vanity. Then slipping off her lace panties, she placed them on her jeans and turned to face him.

‘Jesus Christ, Katherine.’ His voice was heated, his gaze in contrast cool, assessing, an obscure emotion shimmering in its depths as he surveyed her standing there small, shapely, her pubic hair gleaming damply between her legs, her big tits straining the fine lace. She looked even more naked with the dark green lace a sharp contrast to her pale skin, the half-undressed image blatantly erotic. The fact that she was standing there on his orders was messed up as hell and incalculably lurid.

And not just for him.

She shouldn’t respond so predictably to his orders, so readily, so shamelessly. She shouldn’t instantly capitulate just because he was too beautiful for words, or because some inexplicable crash of endorphins and pheromones spiked through her brain. She should have more sense. But he had only to look at her with that predatory gleam and she was flooded with sharp-set desire, her body dissolved into a lustful puddle of want. And nothing else mattered.

‘You look fantastic, baby. Your big tits locked in tight. Everything else open for business and fuckable.’ He went absolutely still. ‘Although with your randy pussy, maybe we should lock that up too when I’m not around … get you a chastity belt.’ His mouth pursed. ‘I don’t suppose there’s much call for those anymore. I’d have to have one made.’

‘Jesus, time out, freak.’ But her voice turned wispy at the
end as a hot, lewd jolt coiled like a pinwheel in her wetter than wet sex, making her dizzy with longing.

He gave her a knowing smile. ‘You like that? I thought you might. Gold or silver for your chastity belt, baby? We should probably put my name on it just to remind you who you belong to, who owns you. Because coercion turns you on, doesn’t it? You like to be ordered to fuck me, don’t you?’

‘No.’ The single syllable was shaky.

He laughed. ‘That’s a helluva needy sound, baby. You don’t really mean no, do you?’

She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

‘Of course you don’t,’ he said, answering for her. ‘A little discipline makes you cream your pussy. We both know that. Look at me, Katherine. I need an answer.’

Her gaze came up, her nostrils flared. ‘Maybe.’

His smile was wicked. ‘And maybe if I fuck the hell out of you, we’ll find out for sure.’ He pointed at his boots. ‘Kneel. Unlace them. This could take a while.’

‘Dominic, please. Everyone will know. Your sister.’ But even as she spoke, her body, her quivering senses were begging him to fuck her.

‘What about my sister?’ he said, frost in his voice. ‘Kneel, baby.’ He pointed again. ‘Do it.’

His expression was cold and ruthless; the man who gave orders that others obeyed. Not just here, but everywhere in the world.

‘Dominic … please.’ She opened her mouth, hesitated under his chill gaze, moved closer instead, put her hand on
his powerful arm, looked up. ‘Could the boots wait? I’m not saying no. I wish I could,’ she whispered. ‘But we shouldn’t stay here too long.’

He didn’t move, his body held in check.

She rested her forehead on his chest. ‘Please?’

He was rigid at first, silent and unyielding, then he shifted slightly, slowly exhaled, and she felt the first stirring of hope. A split second passed, or it might have been years, then he looped his arms around her, ran his thumbs lightly up and down her spine and brought his chin down on the top of her head. ‘Sorry, baby,’ he whispered. ‘I want you too much. It makes me crazy.’ He sounded tired.

‘Me too,’ she said into his sweater, wishing that she didn’t want him so badly. That he wasn’t so beautiful and strong and perfect. That she didn’t have to lose her independence every single time he smiled at her.