Until Micah Sheridan. The man she knew could take control without controlling her.
At thirty-eight he had amassed a global fortune and was both respected and feared in business communities all over the world. The world saw him as a man in elegantly tailored clothing with a sharp business mind and a ruthless attitude, yet still playing with all the toys a man of his wealth accumulated.
She’d done her homework on him. She was aware that this home she was on her way to was only one of many. He had a villa in Cannes, one in Acapulco, a condo in Hong Kong and a chalet in Switzerland. He raced cars for fun, skied both the Alps and the Andes, kept fully outfitted yachts at each of his villas, and never carried a suitcase because every one of his homes was outfitted with his needs.
But Teri knew he was also a man of wild, untamed sexual passion whose skills as a Dom were beyond anything she’d ever dreamed. He’d never been seen with the same woman twice. They were sleek and elegant and came from every country where he had offices or did business. Those who lived the BDSM lifestyle easily spotted the submissive nature of the women and secretly whispered about what went on behind Micah’s bedroom door.
He had never shared personal information, with her or anyone else. To the world at large he was an enigma, but Teri sensed a man who hid a troubled past behind the veneer of a self-made billionaire who had the world at his fingertips. Falling for him was a huge mistake but she had known after they’d been together only three times that he was the one for her. The Dom to give her life to. She just had to convince him.
He had spent more time with her than any other woman in the past several months. In the beginning it was all business, but like called to like, and they had sensed the true nature of each other. The first weekend they’d spent at his condo in town had been like dipping a toe in water to test the temperature. Would she jump away or fully immerse herself? What did they like and what did they want? Aware of his reputation, she’d expected each time to be her last. But now months had gone by, and, although there were weeks they didn’t see each other, she also knew he wasn’t with any other women. And that in and of itself filled her with hope.
When he had invited her to his island, it was understood that he would take her to new levels of play. That this would be a test to see if she matched his desires completely yet understood the mechanics of power exchange. He’d promised nothing in return, but the hint of something had been there in his tone and his expression.
Teri shivered with anticipation at the thought of what might be awaiting her. What would he ask first? How would he treat her? How would she respond?
Their entire relationship had turned her world upside down, coming out of nowhere. Dinners that were like the beginning steps of a sexual dance had turned into nights of increasingly intense BDSM play.
She had sensed after a few meetings that Micah had his own demons he was fighting but he, of course, never mentioned them, and she never dared to question him. Nobody questioned Micah Sheridan about anything.
Now Micah had sent one of his helicopters to bring her to his private island. The place where he hid from the world. The place barely whispered about internationally. The place where no woman ever visited more than once. Would she end up on that list or would this weekend turn into what he’d hinted at and what she hoped for?
She hoped this weekend they could finally bring everything out into the open. That she could convince him she was made for him. If so, they would have something to build on…or they’d be finished.
Just thinking of the last time she’d been with him made the pulse in her cunt throb and her nipples harden painfully. She squeezed her thighs together, feeling the slickness of her juices already dampening her skin, and hoped the scent of her musk didn’t reach the pilot.
She looked down through the window of the helicopter at the magnificent raw beauty of this part of Maine. Whitecaps riffled across the wind-whipped surface of the Atlantic Ocean, and birds wheeled and flew gracefully over the water then back into the thick stands of pine trees. As they came in over the tops of those tall pines she could see the magnificent house of glass and stone rising from the bluff. Beds of wildflowers in riotous colour had been planted around the house, and two ancillary buildings stood off to the side. In front of them was the paved circle of a helipad.
“We’re getting ready to land, Miss Choate.” The pilot’s voice came through loud and clear in her headphones.
“Thank you.”
As they circled a door opened at the side of the house and Micah stepped out into the clearing. His lean form was clad in jeans that she was sure cost as much as the helicopter and a dark green sweater that probably matched the colour of his eyes. The wind disturbed his thick shock of dark brown hair, giving him a raw, sexy look. He definitely matched his setting.
She shivered again as she remembered the things his hands could do to her, punishing and soothing at the same time. The intensity of the bondage play and the attentive aftercare. Already hunger was building inside her.
The pilot set the helo down precisely in the centre of the pad, and Micah came forward to open the cabin door and help her out.
“Welcome to Maine.” The deep timbre of his voice set her pulse to racing. “I’m looking forward to the weekend.”
“Yes.” She wet her lips. “Me, too.”
Micah waved at the pilot as he lifted off.
“So.” His eyes burned with lust and hunger although his face was expressionless. “Are you committed to whatever this weekend brings?”
“Yes.” They had not yet slipped into their roles so she looked him full in the face. “I am. Completely.”
“Then let’s begin.” He guided her towards the house with his hand at her elbow. “I see you obeyed my instructions regarding luggage.”
“You said you’d provide whatever I needed,” she reminded him. She wondered what the pilot had thought when she had shown up with no luggage. Then she shrugged it off, figuring by this time nothing could pique that man’s curiosity.
“And I will. Everything.”
He ushered her into the house, his hand on her back red-hot even through her silk sweater and light jacket. She stopped just inside and tried not to stare. The place stole her breath, with windows that soared from the polished wood floors to the two-storey ceiling. A fire already roared and crackled in a massive stone fireplace and comfortable leather furniture was scattered around the huge room.
“This is beautiful.” She stared at the large, magnificent room.
“So are you.” He brushed her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. “Very beautiful.”
That was the last soft thing he said to her. He straightened and when she looked at him the Dom had taken over completely. He took her purse from her unresisting hands.
“Remove your clothing and leave it on this chair.” He pointed to a small one by the door. “You may retrieve your things when it’s time to leave.”
“Now?” Stupid. Of course he meant now.
He simply
stood there, hands in his pockets, watching and waiting.
Teri slid her arms from her jacket, folded it neatly and placed it on the chair. Taking the hem of her sweater, she tugged it over her head and placed it with the jacket. The rest of her clothing followed, her shoes placed neatly beneath the chair. She stood naked before him, hands folded in front of her, head bowed, eyes downcast.
She knew he was visually taking in every inch of her as he always did. Was he pleased that she’d waxed her pussy completely instead of leaving the two thin strips of curls as she usually did? He’d ordered her to leave the skin completely bare for this weekend. She hoped he was pleased that she’d done so.
Now he tipped her chin up with two fingers.
“Very good.” He smiled and with his other hand he pulled a fine strip of leather from his pocket.
A collar!
Was he already leaning towards something permanent? But his next words disabused her of that notion.
“While you are here,” he said as he fastened the collar around her throat, “this is all you will wear. I have central heating as well as the fireplace, so if you are the least bit cold tell me at once.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
And there they were, back in the familiar roles.
Micah took his time studying her in her nudity. Not that there was anything new for him to see, but something felt different today.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered.
She moved her feet apart to allow him access to her. He moved fractionally closer and slid one hand between her thighs. Her breathing hitched at the contact, sending a sensual wave blasting through her. Every touch made her feel his possession, his sense of ownership of her. She reminded herself, as she forced herself to stand still, that this weekend she wanted him to accept ownership of her heart, as well.
“You may raise your eyes to look at me,” he said.
She watched him lift his hand to his mouth and carefully lick his fingers, her pulse racing in anticipation of what was to happen.
“Wet already. You know that pleases me.” He closed his eyes briefly. “And you taste and smell so delightful. All right, then. Follow me.”
Trembling again, she followed him through the massive open space that was the central part of the house. She looked around as quickly as she could and was struck by the same absence of any personal photos or mementoes as in his condo. She was still puzzling about it when Micah opened a heavy wooden door near the fireplace and motioned for her to follow him. Inside the room she pulled up short, awestruck by what she saw.
Here, in this isolated portion of Maine, Micah Sheridan had built himself a dungeon where every fantasy could be played out. The floor was covered in a thick carpet she could curl her toes into, while the walls were made of the same wood as the floor in the great room. And everywhere she looked were reminders that cost was not a problem to Micah Sheridan. An elaborate St Andrew’s cross stood in one corner. In another a stock and pillory was set up, where a sub could have her neck, wrists and ankles restrained. A spanking bench. Manacles that dropped on chains from the ceiling. Racks holding an array of whips and paddles. Even a cat-o’-nine-tails. And a cabinet that she was sure held whatever a Dom could need to use on his sub.
She was certain no expense had been spared and that everything was the finest of its kind. Micah Sheridan might not share any of his personal information but he certainly took good care of himself.
He turned to her, his lips curved in a ghost of a smile.
“My playroom. What do you think?”
“Impressive, Sir.”
“I would hope so. No one has ever been here more than once. They are well paid for their silence when they leave.” He came to stand directly in front of her, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. “But not you, sweet girl. If you please me this weekend there will never be anyone else here but you. Do you remember what we agreed on?”
She nodded, the thrill of a future together making her pussy throb and her heart leap. She prayed silently she wouldn’t fail this test because Micah had spoilt her for any other man. He held her heart in the palm of his hand and she wanted him to keep it, as well as giving her his.
“You will take me to the edge as often as possible, help me reaching the highest level of pleasure.” She licked her dry lips. “If it is rewarding in many ways to both of us then we move forward together.”
“Very good. And Teri?”
She blinked at his use of her name rather than ‘girl’.
“Yes?”
“You may have taken off the executive personality with your clothes but your inner strength is still there. Submitting to whatever I have planned and taking pleasure from it shows me that your inner strength is always with you. You are my submissive, not my inferior. Are we clear on that?”
“Yes, Sir.” She couldn’t help the tiny grin that twitched her lips.
He smiled back at her, but there was no humour. There was heat and hunger and something dark simmering there that she’d never seen before. Maybe a hint of the secrets he carried deep inside.
“Very good.” He dropped his hand. “I want to reinforce that, however, by giving you a taste of what you’ll receive if you forget. You know the drill. Please go stand against the wall there”—he pointed—”and raise your arms.”
Yes! He’ll start with the paddle, bringing that sweet pain to my ass and thighs that I crave and creeping up into my pussy!
She shivered in anticipation.
When she’d done as he asked, he reached over her head to two manacles hanging from chains, pulled them down and fastened one around each wrist.
“Now your feet. Apart.”
He nudged the inside of her ankles to achieve the space he desired. She heard him move away then he was back. Cold metal bracelets were now locked around each thigh with a bar between them to maintain her position. The spreader. It left her so defenceless that he could do with her as he wished. The thought send a fresh spate of liquid surging through her pussy. She’d tried to analyse her reaction to it and had come to a conclusion. She could make herself that vulnerable because it was obvious he needed it from her, and in giving him that she had a measure of control. It seemed only with Micah had she finally understood the meaning of ‘power exchange’.
“You know how much I love the spreader.” He was back to the chill of his Dom voice. “You’re such a little slut I can’t allow you to rub your thighs together or do anything to relieve the desire in your pussy. Even when I release you from these instruments you will keep your thighs apart at all times. Understood?”
Her inner tease, rather than giving him the answer he expected, had her saying, “I will try.”
“Try?” He actually laughed. “I’d say you need something to remind you that you need to do more than try.”
The carpet was so thick she didn’t hear him move but he must have retrieved the paddle because without warning it thwacked on her ass, a hard smack of leather that made her flinch, even as heat rose within her. She curled her fingers into her palms and took a deep breath just as the next blow landed. She welcomed the pain, her pheromones exploding with joy.