Authors: Tessa Bailey
The barest hesitation. “Y-yes.”
Jonah rewarded her honesty by sliding his middle finger beneath her, pushing it deep inside her. She shot forward on the dresser with a husky moan, but he settled her back with a hand on her heaving chest. “Tell me what sent you over the edge. Did the idea of my cock pushing past those prim and proper lips excite you? It excites the fuck out of me, sweetheart.”
Caroline cried out when he gently licked over her clitoris, polishing it with his tongue. “Yes. No. I…” Restless fingers dug into his hair and tugged. “I thought of this.”
Jonah bared his teeth, pressing and humming against her core, knowing it would vibrate through her. He couldn’t prevent a smile when she began writhing before him, hips circling, her sexy little body already desperate for relief.
On my terms, Caroline.
“You came in your desk chair, underneath that cock-teasing skirt, didn’t you? Did you rub that silky garter over your clit and imagine it was my tongue, baby?” He placed just the right amount of suction over the bundle of nerves in question and took a long pull. “If you’d asked me nicely, I would have stripped you from the waist down and tongue-fucked you on that desk, right underneath your college degree. Would you have liked the reminder that I don’t give a fuck what your last name is?”
“Yes,”
she cried as he went to work on her clit again, circling, rubbing, and sucking. He watched her, memorizing the way her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, growing painfully aroused by the sight of her nipples pouting and growing rosier by the second. Those gorgeous thighs trembled, even as they clenched around his head, telling him she was close. When her breathy whimpers grew louder, Jonah added a second finger, crooking and rotating it inside her one minute, thrusting it in and out the next. “Oh, God. Oh, God. Jonah, please.”
“Caroline.” He paused to warn her, voice harder than before.
“Master, please.”
Blasted by satisfaction, Jonah drew hard on her clit one final time, rolling it on his tongue. She shook on the dresser, rattling the mirror against the wall. Knowing he’d fuck her soon, he added a third finger just as she came, but he didn’t cease his ministrations. Caroline’s climax still quaking through her, Jonah pumped his fingers deep and licked her until she came twice more. By the time her third orgasm subsided, her lips were raw from being bitten. Voice hoarse from begging for
more, more
. He wanted to hear her say the words. Needed to see those fantasy lips say things they never imagined saying.
After tightening the blindfold, Jonah dragged her off the well-used furniture and propelled her toward the bed.
“Tell me what
more
means, Caroline.”
“You,” she sobbed. “I want you.”
Jonah pulled her back to his chest and thrust his erection up against her ass. “You want to take care of this for your master?”
“Yes.”
She circled her hips against him so enticingly and with such desperation, he almost gave in and entered her. “Please let me.”
“How are you going to make me come, baby?”
Her frustrated whimper earned her a slap of his hand. “With my body. My…pussy.”
“Good girl.” Jonah gritted his teeth but couldn’t hold back his rumble of satisfaction. “Now tell me again what you want.”
“Your… Oh, God, your cock.” Her body started to tremble. “Please.”
With a firm hand on her back, he pushed her forward so she stood bent over the bed, then rolled on the condom he’d pulled from his pocket. Power flowing through his veins, he picked up the paddle. “Get your ass in the air, Caroline. I’m about to give you exactly what the fuck you need.”
She liked the position. He could tell by the way she tilted her hips, tossed her hair back with a flick of her head. When she turned her head toward him and said, “Yes, Master,” it nearly undid him. He wanted to grab her hips and fuck her senseless, but the paddle felt too damn good in his hand. Forcing himself to land a soft blow first, he felt his good intentions melt away with each slap of leather on flesh, leaving pink marks that would still be there tomorrow to remind her of him. Of who’d owned her tonight.
Taking a chance, he slapped her harder than before, clenching his fists when she only tried to get closer. “Careful, baby. You’re giving yourself away. You love it, don’t you? That sharp bite echoing between your gorgeous, shaking thighs? Who’s the one providing the bite, Caroline?”
“
You
are, Master.”
“That’s right.” He dropped the paddle on the bed and slipped two fingers inside her, holding them tight and deep. “Thank me for your punishment.”
“Thank you.” Caroline’s words ended on a scream when he withdrew his fingers and buried his rigid cock to the hilt. Jonah’s vision blurred at the overwhelming pleasure her tight entrance afforded him. Fuck, it felt like she was trying to squeeze him out and suck him in at the same time. He’d never been so lost in the need to thrust, while being held back by the voice compelling him to cherish the singular feeling. When she spread her thighs wider and begged breathily, the former won.
Jonah planted his fists on the bed and worked his hips, grinding into her slowly, before rearing back and slamming home once more. He repeated the movement several times, each time better than the last. When her back and shoulders began to tremble, Jonah realized he’d been holding back from taking her hard because he wanted to see her face as he did so. In one quick movement, he withdrew, flipped her over, and yanked off the blindfold.
A moan broke free from him at her expression. Utter ecstasy blanketed her features, driving him into a frenzy. His ferocious thrust propelled her up the bed, her thighs circling his waist and holding tight. Jonah manacled her wrists above her head with one hand and threw his head back to avoid the picture she made beneath him, afraid it would make him come too soon.
No one can have her but me. No one can have her but me.
The chant repeated itself over and over in his mind as he gave in to the vicious urge and fucked her without an ounce of restraint.
“Jonah.” Her head tossed on the bed, face flushed, breasts bouncing in time with his drives.
“Master.”
“Goddammit, Caroline. If I’d known, if I’d even had a fucking hunch you’d feel like this, I’d never have been able to wait. You’d have been introduced to my cock that first night.” Jonah grabbed one of her ankles and threw it over his shoulder, changing the angle as he continued to pound into her. “Come hard, baby. Show me how much you love it.”
“I love it. I love it.” He felt her inner walls clench around him, and it drained the last drop of his sanity. Her entire body was wracked with tremors then, eyes disappearing into her head. “I’m coming again… Please…
don’t stop
.”
Jonah brought his body down hard on top of her, pinning her with his weight and thrusting deep to help her ride out her orgasm. “Who owns you? Who owns this body?”
“You do. Oh,
God
.”
He finally allowed himself to climax, unable to hold back another second when her pussy began milking him rhythmically in a way he knew would cause him to harden every time he remembered it for years to come. A rush of something transcending pleasure gripped him, taking over his body. “Goddamn, that hot little pussy is working me so fucking good.
Don’t stop
. Jesus, baby,
fuck
.”
Unable to hold himself up any longer, he fell on top of Caroline, their mouths fitting together between gasps of breath. He withdrew from her gently but made no move to leave his position over her. It felt right. He wanted to stay there as long as possible, watching her recover from what they’d done. When her stunned gaze slipped from his, he felt a sense of dread creep into his chest. They hadn’t even fully caught their breath, and she’d already retreated back into her own headspace. He’d seen this eventuality coming, but his foresight didn’t make it any easier to witness. She’d given him temporary ownership of her body, but her mind had clearly remained her own.
“Look at me,” he commanded. Then softer, “Stay with me, Caroline.”
Hesitantly, her green eyes, brimming with conflict, met his. “I can’t. You know I can’t.”
“I know you
won’t
.”
She shook her head miserably. “Same thing.”
“No. It’s not.” Swallowing the knot in his throat, he swept his lips over hers. “It’s okay to love what we did here.”
“No,” she choked out. “That wasn’t me. I don’t…want to question myself. That only ever happens around you.”
When she rolled out from under him, Jonah had to clench his fist on the comforter to prevent himself from reaching for her. “You don’t think I question myself, too? Wanting a girl who thinks I’m sleazy or that I have some incurable sickness?” He sighed when she left the room, no doubt to retrieve her dress where she’d left it in the guest room. Against his better judgment, he rose and followed her, calling himself a masochist the entire way.
Ironic, that.
He found her zipping up the dress, stepping into her heels. “Sweetheart—”
“Oh, God, please stop calling me that.” He swallowed hard but remained silent. “I know what you’re thinking. That I don’t know my own mind. That I say one thing and do another. You’re right. About all of it. That’s why I’m leaving. That’s why I won’t come back.”
“Explain.”
She heaved a breath toward the ceiling in a mannerism he’d already come to associate with her. “Where does this end? With me getting flogged in front of an audience?”
“Never.”
His vehemence appeared to take her aback for a moment. “It’s a slippery slope, that’s all I’m trying to say.”
He shook his head. “You’re above clichés, Caroline.
We’re
above them.”
“Jonah…” He saw her consider being honest with him for a moment. Just a flash and it was gone, but it was enough to tell him something more complex lingered behind her panicked explanation as she searched for an excuse to fill the void her honesty had left behind. “I can’t be associated with you. It would be bad for my career. Bad for me personally.” She raised her hand and let it drop. “You brought me here tonight to enlighten me, but one night doesn’t make it something I could consider permanently. Or condone publicly.”
He ignored the second part, knowing she’d said it to push him further away. All he knew was she would leave in a minute, and it felt so infinitely wrong, he couldn’t get his head around it. “We weren’t meant to be limited to one night.” His gaze held hers. “Admit that much. Admit that what’s between us isn’t about some fucking article.”
Her lips parted on a shaky exhale, and Jonah felt arousal flood his belly. A wave of self-disgust followed. For wanting her, even as she stood there explaining why he wasn’t good enough. “If I admitted it, it still wouldn’t change anything. I can’t continue to do these things with you and still respect myself.” Before he could respond to that hurtful statement, she picked up her purse from the floor and swept past him, giving him a wide berth.
“Stop.” His command brought her up short in the doorway. “I’m walking you out.”
“That’s completely unnecessary.”
Jonah closed the distance between them, tilting her chin up and getting right in her face. Awareness shone hotly in her eyes, and he wanted to curse it. It proved he could have her again, but it would only prolong the inevitable. “If you think I’m going to let you walk through my club looking like you’ve been ridden hard and put up wet, you’re about to be terribly disappointed.”
Indignant color rose in her cheeks, but wisely she didn’t argue. “Fine,” she snapped. “Since you put it so nicely.”
They rode the elevator in silence, although her nipples straining against her dress and the rapid rise and fall of her chest told Jonah she still desired him. It was the worst kind of torture imaginable when the temptation to fuck her until she relented sang loudly in his head. He waved forward one of the black town cars idling outside Serve and waited until it disappeared from sight, wishing like hell she hadn’t turned around to watch him as it drove away.
Chapter Ten
The article she’d written about Serve was live.
Caroline stared at her computer screen, watching the
Preston’s
website log hit after hit. Hundreds of comments turned into thousands as she sat there, people reading her feature from the comfort of their own desks, probably horrified as they read about Serve.
While she sat there feeling hollow.
Last night, she’d come home knowing if she didn’t write the article and publish it on the website the same night, she never would. Every word of the article was true, she’d managed that much. Kept her journalistic integrity intact at the very least. The way she’d managed it? She hadn’t mentioned Jonah. Not once. If she had, the article would have been entirely different. Her distaste wouldn’t have shown through and it would have been softer. Less objective. Essentially, she’d written what she’d observed inside the club’s four walls in an uncharacteristically toneless piece that would likely hurt Jonah. If not his feelings, his image. An image that mattered when you were trying to get visitation with your daughter.
Caroline’s stomach turned at the reminder. She’d done what was necessary, though. Hadn’t she? Her father, the man who had built this magazine from the ground up, had demanded a negative article so Oliver would drop the merger idea. Oliver hadn’t demanded a positive spin the way her father had demanded a negative one, but the request had been made all the same. She hadn’t given in to either of them, really, since the article had no angle. None of her opinion, either, even though it was an op-ed. Why did that make it even worse?
Caroline’s throat constricted as she looked at the box of red lollipops that had been delivered to the building’s reception last night.
Before
the article had gone live. How in the hell could a box of candy make her feel so miserable? Oh, but it did. He’d sent them to the woman he’d shared his bed with, if for a brief time. Not the woman who’d made Serve sound like a generic torture chamber. Secretly, she was turned on by the gift, too. Excitement should not accompany her guilt. She shouldn’t want to suck on one of them while she thought about him. Shouldn’t want to tuck one into the garter still circling her thigh and wear it as a secret all day long.
Were the lollipops a sign that he hadn’t wanted to give up on her? Traitorous heat traveled up from her belly to curl in her chest. Oh, that wouldn’t do. It was one thing to feel tingly for Jonah in her nether regions, but quite another for it to move higher. Wholly unacceptable. It didn’t matter now, anyway. Now that he would never want to see her again.
With a long exhale, she reached into the box of lollipops and pulled one out. When her knuckles encountered something stiff and crinkly, she set the box in her lap and dug through it. It only took her a second to find the note.
Don’t open it. Don’t.
Oh, fuck it. She was a journalist. She could no more leave the note folded and unread than she could go a day without asking intrusive questions. Before she could stop herself, she brought the note to her mouth and rubbed the smooth paper over her lips, lips Jonah had kissed just hours ago. Bruised lips that shouldn’t like the feeling at all. Lips that should feel violated and abused but instead felt wanted and worthy of passion from a man who kept it chained inside him until it exploded out in a frenzy of demands she’d been all too eager to comply with.
No more. Can’t do it anymore.
She unfolded the note with impatient fingers.
Our night is still incomplete. You don’t know what it does to me knowing your beautifully sore backside received no aftercare from my hands. That I wasn’t given the time to tell you that you look like a fucking goddess when you come. To say that you satisfied me would be an understatement, so I need to overstate it in your ear. Not on paper. Allow me that. Today.
J
A cell phone number sat at the bottom, taunting her.
The sound of her breath wheezing in and out brought her out of her stupor. How many times had she read the note? Using different inflections each time, imagining his voice saying the words to her out loud. She tossed the note into the garbage can, then snatched it back out. The night was still incomplete? What had he been planning while she’d been sitting at her laptop, wrecking his life? He’d been remembering their night together, thinking of her as a goddess, when she’d gone and acted like the furthest thing from it. If she saw him today, he wouldn’t care if her body still ached from his hands. Would he? Maybe instead, he’d repeat the treatment he’d given her last night, only this time it wouldn’t be for pleasure. It would be a punishment.
Her body shouldn’t be thrumming with anticipation of receiving that punishment. Wrong. So wrong. But whereas five minutes ago, she’d been moody and lethargic, she now felt energized. Reanimated. Maybe he genuinely wanted to care for her after last night. Maybe it really was important to him. It wouldn’t hurt to find out, right? “Stop,” she muttered to herself, pushing from behind her desk and out of her office. “Stop making excuses to see him.”
Caroline went into the small kitchen just off the reception area and poured herself a mug of steaming caffeine. She doctored it with too much cream before leaning back against the counter to watch the twenty-four-hour news channel on the suspended television above. The images blurred together after a few minutes, the voices sounding like they came from inside a cave. She’d expected the article to bring relief. Thought it would free her somehow, let her life return to normal. But she felt infinitely worse. Like she’d done something irreversible. Her father
might
be pleased with her, since their readership would undoubtedly be disgusted by her description of floggings and horny businessmen, but had it been worth hurting Jonah? Her brother? Knowing she was a fraud left a bitter taste in her mouth, and the coffee was doing nothing to wash it away. Or to dull the relentless pain in her chest.
She had the sudden, undeniable urge to hear Jonah’s voice. Not to apologize—that would come too close to admitting she was wrong about his world, and she wasn’t. But she needed him to know her intention hadn’t been to hurt him. Maybe it would help dampen this awful guilt spearing her abdomen.
She hurried back to her office and closed the door so no one would overhear, particularly her father, who tended to meander through the hallways with his nose stuck in a book or financial journal. With a deep breath, she plucked the note off her desk and dialed the number on her cell.
Jonah answered on the third ring, sounding weary. “Yes?”
“It’s me.”
A long pause. “I didn’t expect you to actually call.”
“That would have been impolite after you sent me a gift. But maybe I shouldn’t have.”
“There are a lot of things you shouldn’t have done according to this article, Caroline.”
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Not when that now-familiar edge in his voice made her body hum to life.
“I wonder what all these readers would think if they knew you couldn’t even make it upstairs in the elevator without trying to get a leg around my waist to feel my cock just where you wanted it.”
Her eyelids fluttered at the forbidden words and the hypnotic quality he spoke with. She felt weak-kneed and eager, the same way she’d felt in his bedroom the night before. How could he do this to her in mere seconds?
Against her will, she looked down at the note. She never left anything incomplete, and the very suggestion that they had was throwing her off.
Just one more time
. To see him. To make sure he knew her actions hadn’t been malicious. But how could she do that without admitting she felt something for him? “You’d like to expose me, wouldn’t you? Maybe you will if I don’t agree to meet you.”
“I won’t give you a way to justify it to yourself.” His voice was hard. “You’ll come to me regardless.”
She shuddered at the implication that she’d willingly go to him for punishment. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m your master and I’ve made a demand.”
Hot, decadent pleasure blocked out everything else.
He’s still my master
. Was that relief she felt, too? She’d never felt it to such a degree about anything. “Where? How?”
“I’ll pick you up one block south of your building in fifteen minutes.”
“Okay,” she whispered, feeling like she was soaring toward an unseen disaster.
…
He’d been granted a reprieve. Part of him felt as if he’d imagined the phone call, Caroline’s halting voice on the other end. Christ, the simple act of talking to her had given him an unforgiving hard-on. The kind that demanded fulfillment, mere hours after he’d been fulfilled beyond words. This was about
her
, though. Not him. She’d walked out of his club last night, her body visibly stiff from how he’d treated it, translating into a frantic shipment of lollipops and a night of zero sleep for him. He’d been tempted to show up at
Preston’s
this morning and tend to her behind the closed door of her office. Would have done it if her parting words from last night weren’t still ringing in his ears.
I can’t continue to do these things with you and still respect myself.
And then he’d seen the damned article.
Fuck, he shouldn’t be here. He should leave this sexy, disapproving woman who refused to quit haunting him alone. Should stop sneaking around with someone who didn’t
want
to want him and quit being the catalyst for her loss of self-respect. After the way she’d portrayed his club in her article, like it was some cheap Vegas sideshow, he shouldn’t ever want to hear her name again. Already this morning, his lawyer had received a phone call from Renee. He’d chosen to put off the conversation with Gabby’s mother because he couldn’t think straight yet. Couldn’t stay away. His plan had been to addict her, but he’d become a full-fledged Caroline junkie in the process. Article or not, as far as he was concerned, she was his responsibility, and he would see to her.
As if that final thought had made her appear, he saw Caroline round the busy corner, scanning the street. For him. Jesus, he liked that. Liked her seeking him out.
You’re one sick man.
From the back of the limousine, Jonah lowered the window and waited for her gaze to find him. When it did, one eyebrow lifted, but she closed the distance without hesitation and slipped into the leather backseat. Immediately, his instincts roared to life, demanding he pin her beneath him on the seat and devour her, punish her for betraying him, but he somehow kept himself in check.
About her. This is about her
.
Too bad he planned to take something for himself in the process.
One thing at a time.
Her gaze ran over his face, those intelligent eyes attempting to analyze him. When she spoke, she sounded a little breathless. “I never pegged you for a limousine man.”
“I borrowed it from a client.” He took off his hat and tossed it onto the far seat. “I prefer the subway.”
“I thought so,” she murmured as the limo started moving. “I don’t know why I thought so.”
Jonah stifled a groan. “Your tongue is red. Did you eat a lollipop, Caroline?”
“Yes. While I was waiting.”
She looked guilty, like she’d been caught doing something very bad. Damn, that made him ache below the belt even more. Despite his anger, how could he be this close to her and not try to seat himself inside of her? He knew now how good she felt, how well she took him, making holding back infinitely worse. “I would have liked to have seen that.”
“Are we going to talk about the article or pretend it didn’t happen?”
As always, her directness turned him on. “No, we’re not going to talk about it. That’s what you’d like to do, though, isn’t it?” His voice sounded tight to his own ears. “Talk about it until you feel better about lying?”
“I didn’t lie in the article,” she said quickly.
“No, just to yourself.” Jonah took a careful breath, aware that the situation was going somewhere he hadn’t planned and that he needed to dial it back. To remember why he’d come. “That’s not what this is about. I think I was very clear about what I wanted in my note.”
Her red tongue skated out to wet her lips. “I don’t understand.”
A pang in his chest was coupled with an overwhelming need to soothe. It had been there since last night, demanding to be obeyed. This wouldn’t be his usual process—he’d known that ahead of time. “Come sit on my lap.”
She only looked unsure for a beat before tossing her purse onto the floor and kneeling on the seat beside him. Jonah hooked an arm around her waist and drew her down, settling her bottom on his thighs and leaning her against his chest. Already their breaths were punctuating the air around them, oxygen being sucked in and heaved out from the simple contact.
Ordering himself to focus, Jonah slid his hand into her hair and began to massage the back of her head. Her mouth popped open on a gasp, eyes sliding closed. Jonah laid his mouth against her ear and spoke quietly. “Does your pussy hurt a little from satisfying me, Caroline?”
She swayed in his lap with a moan, but he steadied her with his chest. “Yes.”
Using the fingers of one hand to rub circles into her scalp, he allowed the other to trail up her thigh. Not too high. Not enough that he wouldn’t be able to stop. “Such a good girl, letting me lick as long as I wanted. You tasted perfect, baby. Smooth and sweet.”
Her thigh flexed and shook underneath his hand. “Should I say thank you?”
“Yes, but only if you say it the right way.”
Frustration clouded her pretty features but fled after a moment. “Thank you, Master,” she whispered, as if someone might overhear. “For saying I taste good.”
Goddamn, those words out of her mouth almost demolished his self-control, but he bit her earlobe gently instead. “I’d like you to get on your knees, facing away from me. Lay your cheek down on the carpet.” He ran his open mouth up the side of her neck, loving the way her head tilted automatically. “Then I’d like you to pull up your skirt and show me where I gave you the paddle last night.”