Knight's Mistress (34 page)

Kate stopped at Dominic’s elbow not currently in Antonia’s grip. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you, Mr Knight, but there’s an attack on your Romanian server. I was just notified. It’s urgent.’

Antonia glared at her.

Dominic’s gaze narrowed. ‘Impossible. We took care of it.’

Kate tried to assume a modest, demure expression. ‘A renewed attack isn’t unusual, Mr Knight,’ she said with a small deferential dip of her head. ‘I wouldn’t bother you, sir, but you’re the only one with the password.’

He debated arguing with Katherine, didn’t relish the
possibility Antonia would step in, particularly with the President of Hong Kong watching. ‘I seem to have no choice, Miss Hart,’ he brusquely said, knowing he was breaking protocol by walking away from the President of Hong Kong while he was speaking.

‘I’m afraid not, sir, unless you’d care to give me the password.’

‘That probably wouldn’t be wise.’ He turned to the older man. ‘My apologies, Mr President. Apparently I have a crisis on my hands.’ Unwinding Antonia’s arm, he nodded to the group at large. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’ Then he turned and strode away.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he growled as they walked away.

‘Olivia sent me.’

‘Why?’

‘She said you needed rescuing.’

‘Her timing could have been better,’ he muttered. ‘I was speaking with the President of Hong Kong. People don’t as a rule walk away from him when he’s talking.’

‘Sorry, she didn’t mention it. She only said you’d asked to be saved from Antonia.’

He sighed. ‘True. Oh, what the hell – a crisis is a crisis. The president might even have believed you. So, Katherine’ – he flashed a bad-boy smile – ‘now that you’ve saved me, what do you have in mind?’

‘Not much with people staring at us.’

‘Not us – you. All the men want to get in your pants,’
he muttered. ‘I almost came over to you a dozen times and dragged some guy away.’

She turned scarlet. ‘Thank God you didn’t.’

‘You were too friendly.’

‘I was not!’

‘If you say so.’ But she could tell he didn’t mean it. Taking her elbow in the cup of his hand, he propelled her out of the room, moved them briskly down the corridor, nodding at the few knots of guests they passed, smiling at a woman who started to approach. ‘Call me tomorrow, Isabelle,’ he said, not stopping. ‘I’m dealing with a business crisis right now.’

‘She didn’t believe you.’ The woman’s glare was still zapping Kate’s brain.

‘Ask me if I care.’

‘A little discretion wouldn’t hurt,’ Kate muttered, trying to shake off his grip. ‘People are staring.’

His grip tightened. ‘Sorry.’

Kate snorted. ‘You don’t even know what the word means.’

‘Sure I do. It means I heard you.’ Then he laughed. ‘Come on, baby, smile for me. These were the longest two hours of my life.’ He stopped at his office door, opened it, waved her in.

‘I thought we were going back to the Garden House.’

He grinned. ‘I figure you owe me a favour first for letting all those guys look down your dress.’

‘For heaven’s sake, Dominic, this isn’t the—’ She glanced
over his shoulder and winced. ‘Some guy just gave you the thumbs up.’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ Pushing her into the room, he shut the door, locked it and kicked off his shoes.

She scowled at him. ‘I’m not in the mood.’

‘I am, if you don’t mind.’ He flicked his finger in a quick up and down motion. ‘Take off your dress.’

‘You always say “if you don’t mind” before you do exactly what you want. But I’m not doing this now – not with all the people walking by outside.’

‘We could be working on that bogus attack for all they know. Just don’t scream when you come,’ he said, looking up from untying his tie and smiling faintly.

‘Jesus, Dominic, be reasonable.’

‘I have been for two long fucking hours. Now take it off or I will.’ He slipped off his jacket, tossed it on the floor. ‘I’ve been watching you talk to all those men, smile at all those men who want to fuck you. It pissed me off. Jack MacKenzie in particular, damned lecher.’

‘I was smiling at everyone. So were you. It’s just courtesy.’

‘How about you show me some of your courtesy?’ He pulled off his tie, let it drop from his fingers. ‘Let’s see that boarding school underwear. Then take it off.’ He unbuttoned the top button on his shirt.

She looked at him with distaste. ‘I’m sorry. Were those orders?’

‘They were.’ His shirt unbuttoned, he threw it on his pile of clothing.

‘And you’re the boss?’

His smile was wicked. ‘In every possible way, Katherine.’ He quickly disposed of his socks. ‘I thought we both understood that. And after two hours of ass-kissing and watching you flirt, I’m a little grouchy so it would be best if you cooperated.’

‘And if I don’t?’

He went motionless, his fly half unzipped. Then he smiled and went back to unzipping. ‘We’ll have to play it by ear, although I doubt you want that dress ripped to shreds.’

‘Jesus, Dominic, you’re in a mood.’

He looked up, about to step out of his trousers. ‘I am. Sorry.’ He grinned. ‘Or whatever meaningless apology you prefer.’

‘Well, that’s bluntly honest.’

‘You might think about being honest too. You always like to fuck. I don’t see the problem.’

‘The problem is the house full of guests. Or someone could walk by the windows, for God’s sake,’ she said with a jerk of her hand towards the bank of French doors.

‘I’ll shut the curtains.’

She watched him stride away, naked and beautiful, all rippling muscle and casual ruthlessness. He wasn’t used to asking, or braking hard when an obstacle got in his way; he just reached out and took what he wanted. But it wasn’t as though she was averse to fucking him.

‘There. You’re safe now,’ he said, walking back.

She stared at his beautifully formed erection flat against his stomach. It was large and intimidating, immodest, arresting. She began to quiver inside. ‘I suppose if you must have your way,’ she said, in one last grating poke at his authority, wondering if every other woman he knew responded to him with the same inexplicable longing. Wondering if her monstrous sexual need was her fault or his or no one’s fault – just some transcendent mystery. ‘Ask me nicely,’ she said though, because she wanted to be more than one of the crowd. She always had.

‘Please, darling. I’d be extremely grateful, if that helps,’ he added gently.

‘I’m not sure it does.’ But she was like an alcoholic needing that next drink, and unbuckling the jet buckle at her waist, she held out the belt and slipped out of her shoes.

‘In any case, I thank you for indulging me,’ Dominic said, taking the belt from her and dropping it. ‘Turn around. I’ll unzip you.’

Kate sighed, in surrender and rebuke. ‘Remind me never to come to a cocktail party with you.’

‘Remind me never to bring you to one.’ He stopped her turn with a hand on her hip, reached for the zipper. ‘It was hell watching you talking to all those men.’

‘That works out then, because I didn’t like you talking to all those women.’

‘Asking them for money,’ he coolly pointed out. ‘There’s a difference.’

‘I’m sure they were more than willing to oblige you in hopes you might reward them for their generosity.’

‘But I didn’t,’ he said. ‘I turned them down. You’re the only one I want.’ He slid the satin sleeves down her arms, eased the dress down her hips, let it slip to the floor while her heart swelled with happiness that he wanted her and the queue of breathless women all were left behind. ‘There now,’ he whispered, picking her up by her waist, kicking the dress aside, turning her to face him. ‘After an evening of bullshit, I finally have
my
reward.’

‘So tell me,’ she murmured, a modern Circe practising her arts, ‘does my plain white cotton underwear intrigue you?’

‘It has a certain virtuous charm. Apparently Mrs Hawthorne supplies props for every illicit and perverse fetish.’ He smiled. ‘I believe this is where I ask you how old you are?’

‘Old enough,’ Kate purred.

He shook his head. ‘Not the right answer. I try to avoid sex that has legal repercussions.’

‘If I were underage I’d still want to fuck you.’

‘But you wouldn’t because I’m not stupid.’

She sighed theatrically. ‘Very well. I’m twenty-two.’

He laughed. ‘And available.’

‘And really hot for you after years in a convent school. Oh, you liked that one I see.’ She pointed at his surging dick.

The convent school comment triggered high school
memories, but it was the hot babe standing in front of him that added inches to his dick. ‘We like everything about you, Katherine.’ He smiled. ‘Who would have thought cotton underwear was such a turn-on.’

‘It doesn’t take much for you.’

‘Or you. Come here.’ He flicked his index finger. ‘Let’s see if you’re wet.’

She moved closer and on reaching him, stopped, looked up and smiled. ‘I’m always wet when you’re around. Maybe it’s your shampoo.’

‘Or maybe you just like to fuck all the time,’ he said, smiling back.

‘I hope that’s not a problem.’

‘It isn’t, so long as it’s only me you’re fucking.’

‘A shame we’ve moved out of the Middle Ages,’ she sardonically noted.

‘But I still outweigh you by a hundred pounds,’ he said, soft as silk. ‘So maybe the century doesn’t matter.’ Taking hold of her arm in a deliberate act of constraint, he leaned over, slid his hand between her legs and gently rubbed her sex through the damp cotton knit fabric. ‘You’re really wet, Katherine. And you said you weren’t interested in having sex. Too many people, you said, too indiscreet, you said.’ He looked up, his gaze mocking. ‘Did you change your mind?’

‘Don’t look so smug. You make me horny, that’s all.’

‘Or do you suppose all those men looking down your dress tonight made you horny?’ Sliding his finger under her
panties, he delicately stroked her slick cleft before standing upright and licking his fingertip. ‘That’s definitely horny, babe. Ready for fucking.’ He brushed her nipples with his palms, a casual gesture of possession, lightly pinched the rising crests as they swelled against the soft fabric. ‘Maybe all those men looking at your tits made you wet?’

She shivered at his touch. ‘No one was looking.’

‘Liar.’

‘Well, I didn’t ask them to.’

He smiled tightly, his gaze cooled. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Dominic, stop it. It was nothing. Cocktail conversation. The most banal chitchat.’

‘Tell me what Jack MacKenzie chatted about.’

She flushed.

‘That lurid – my, my.’

‘It was his idea of flirting.’

‘Did he ask you to come see his yacht in his usual obscene way?’

She blushed again.

‘He thinks women like that. Did you flirt back?’ The tone was threatening.

‘No!’

‘But he must have been hopeful. You chatted with him a long time.’

‘Jesus, were you timing him?’

‘I was timing everyone, darling.’ He’d resented every man who’d spoken to her. He’d wanted to lock her away, keep her for himself alone, possess her in the most
elemental way. An unthinkable concept. Until tonight.

‘OK, I’m done. That’s way over the line.’

He looked amused. ‘No sex, then?’

‘No, dammit!’

With a proper balance of insolence and regret, he said, ‘If you’re not interested in sex, maybe you could just go down on me.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m not one of your by-the-hour girlfriends. Jack yourself.’

‘But I don’t want to.’

‘Good. Then we can leave.’

‘You’re not dressed.’

‘I’ll get dressed.’

‘You’d have to reach your dress first.’

‘Seriously, you can’t be jealous of those men?’

‘No, I just want to fuck you and you’re giving me grief a hundred different ways.’

She scowled at him. ‘Ask me about getting grief.’

He almost smiled at her before he caught himself. ‘No one’s ever complained before.’

‘Then it’s time someone did.’

He slowly exhaled, moved a few steps to the sofa, dropped on it like a rock, slid into a lounging pose, looked up at her from under the dark fringe of his lashes. ‘We seem to be at an impasse.’

‘Because you can’t have your way.’

‘Or you yours. I might as well jack off. Throw me my shirt, will you?’

‘Are you really?’

‘Damn right.’ He held out his hand. ‘My shirt, please.’

Walking over to the pile of his clothes, she bent, picked up the shirt and brought it over to him.

‘Thank you.’ Taking the shirt from her, he dropped it on his legs, circled his erection with his closed fist and proceeded to slowly jack off. His eyes half closed, his right hand moving up and down in an easy rhythm, his left hand idly stroking his heavy testicles, his massive prick rose higher and higher.

She might not have existed, he was in another place behind his lowered eyelids, absorbed in the full blast of hot sensation, a half smile on his face.

Suddenly her breath was lodged in her throat, her gaze trained on each spiking expansion, each turgid swell of his huge erection. Clenching her thighs to contain the combustible frenzy within, the high-pressure jolts to her senses, her mind went white and empty save for the unclouded vision of Dominic’s gigantic dick.

She squirmed at his next strong downstroke, felt the warm liquid ooze into her panties, was astonished to hear her soft, breathy moan, the sound so explicitly carnal she was appalled.

He heard it, knew the sound. His lashes lifted marginally. ‘Ask for it,’ he whispered, his fingers smoothly sliding downward.

‘Please, Dominic.’

‘Please what?’ His voice was hushed, his breathing
raspy, his fingers deft, professional, up and down, up and down.

‘Please give it to me,’ she said on a suffocated breath, every sexual nerve fuelled and frantic, the hotspur throbbing inside her echoing in her ears.

‘Go down on me.’

‘Afterwards, please.’

‘
No, now
. And get rid of those,’ he said with a lift of his chin.

She hastily unhooked her bra, shoved a thumb under the waistband of her panties, wiggled her hips.

He whispered, ‘There’s a good girl,’ and moved so she could reach him more easily. Smiling as she kneeled without looking at him, he quietly ordered, ‘You don’t have to swallow. I’m going to come in you. Did you hear?’ She was breathing hard, her gaze unfocused, her hot little sex controlling her brain as usual. Her appetite for fucking was really amazing.