Red Handed (31 page)

She rubbed her thumb over the diamond on her ring finger as if checking to make sure it was still there. It didn't make a difference because the ring didn't make the marriage, but the certificate they'd signed and filed at the courthouse the day Cole had gotten out of the hospital had.

A smile tugged at her lips. She'd never grow tired of being called Mrs. DeMarco or, as she was known at the club, Master Cole's.

“What's that smile for?”

She looked up at her husband, who was still as handsome as the day she'd first seen him nine years ago. Wearing jeans and a Detroit Tigers T-shirt, he sat down beside her on the bench and exchanged the e-reader for his hand. For a man who'd insisted he never wanted children, he spent hours each day waiting to feel the kick of his daughter's foot or the punch of her little hand.

She covered his hand with her own. “I was thinking how much my life has changed this year.”

“All for the better, I hope?”

A blush crept over her chest. “I think I proved that to you in the mirror room last night.”

The morning sickness had finally disappeared around week fifteen, after which, to Cole's delight, she'd moved into a long-lasting phase of having an insatiable sexual appetite.

He chuckled. “You certainly did.” His hand slid out from under hers and glided up toward her breasts. “Enjoying the solitude?”

“I was until you arrived. Now I'm enjoying some quiet alone time with my husband.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief as his hand continued its way up her chest, playfully flicking open the buttons along the way. “Yes, well, I came out to tell you the workmen have arrived, and the noise will start up in approximately fifteen minutes.”

She sighed and arched into his palm. “That's fine. I'll enjoy the few minutes we have.”

His fingers swept over her sensitive nipple. “You will if I have anything to say about it.”

“How are you going to ensure that? You gonna act like Gracie and guard my body?”

He spread the opening of her dress and pulled down the cup of her bra, revealing her breast to his view. “No, I have an entirely different plan for your body.”

She bit down on her lip. “Now? You just told me the workmen are here.”

“They are.”

The folds of her sex grew slick with need. “They'll see us . . . ”

He tugged her onto a picnic blanket set out on the floor of the gazebo and laid her on her back. “Making love? Probably. Is that a problem?”

Her breathing quickened. “I'm pregnant. No one wants to see my naked ass right now.”

“I do.” He stretched her arms over her head and restrained her wrists by tying the nylon rope attached to the bottom of the gazebo bench around them. “I've been fantasizing about sinking my teeth into it all day.”

Arousal trickled down her thighs. “You did that this morning before you went to breakfast with Roman.”

“Exactly. And I couldn't wait to do it again.” After binding her arms, he grabbed a spreader bar he'd conveniently left by the gazebo entrance. “Your body is fucking incredible. I think I'll have to keep you pregnant for the next ten years or so.”

She sucked in a breath as he spread her wide open and cuffed her ankles to the bar. “Let's get through the first one before we start thinking about more.”

“I've been dying for it to be warm enough to use this gazebo with you.” He hovered over her body and, being the sly pervert that he was, pulled scissors from his back pocket. In seconds, he'd cut away all her clothes, leaving her completely bare.

“Hey, I liked that dress.”

He nuzzled her swollen breasts. “I'll buy you a new one.”

“And more underwear.”

He slid his tongue across her nipple. “No. You're not supposed to be wearing panties while you're home. Consider this your punishment for breaking the rules.”

Pressure built inside her pussy, but she was helplessly bound and at the will of her Master. “I was outside in a sundress that happens to ride up when I lie down on the bench to read. I thought it was prudent to cover up in case the workmen showed.”

All thought of propriety fled the moment he sucked her nipple into his mouth. Heat flowed through her. They'd been so sensitive since the third month of her pregnancy, she could actually orgasm without any contact to her pussy. Her clitoris throbbed, the breeze on it like a dozen tiny fingers.

And then she heard them. Men's voices coming from down the hill and getting louder by the second.

The building crew had arrived to work on the new house.

She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip to keep from making too much noise.

But as her Master, Cole would never allow her to remain quiet. He knew what got her excited, and he refused to allow her to stifle it. He looked into her eyes, his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. “You hear them? They've got a prime view of that sopping-wet pussy of yours right now. I bet they're hard as a rock seeing you spread out like that, bound and vulnerable. They've heard rumors about this place, and now that they see you, they're hoping I'm going to share you with them. That they'll get to feel your hot pussy, your tight ass, your sinful mouth around their dicks. And the thought of that makes you horny as hell, doesn't it?”

It did. When Cole took control, she could embrace her inner exhibitionist.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly.

“Yeah, I bet it does.” He pinched her nipple. “But do they get to touch you?”

“No, Master.”

He unzipped his pants and, holding the center of the spreader bar, lifted her bottom off the ground. “Why, my beautiful slave?”

“Because I'm yours.”

With one thrust, he seated himself inside her pussy. “That's right. And no one touches my wife but me. Every part of you belongs to me, just as every part of me belongs to you. But I understand your desire to be watched, and how I love to watch you, my sweet. I want to hear you. I want the workmen to hear you. Fuck, I want the guy delivering the mail down the street to hear you.”

He wasn't gentle, driving into her over and over, swerving his hips in frantic motion. The noise of their lovemaking sent her careening toward climax. His skin slapping against hers. Her pussy's wet suction of his cock. His groans. Her cries. Those workmen could hear everything. They could see everything. See her.

Her body trembled as everything in her tightened, and nothing else existed except for the throbbing electric spot high inside her pussy only Cole could touch and claim. On a scream, she unraveled, pleasurable spasms clenching around Cole's cock as she came and came and came. She was still coming when he shuddered, bathing her inner tissues with his hot release. He collapsed on top of her; then, after catching his breath, he rolled off and removed the restraints from her arms and legs.

She sighed as he massaged her wrists. “I can't believe we did that. Even with the confidentiality agreement, the workmen are going to tell everyone they know what goes on here.”

He shrugged. “Those aren't the builders. I requested a few of the male slave trainees take a walk by the gazebo.”

Of course. Cole would never risk harming her in any way. “I should've guessed.”

“There's something I wanted to discuss.” He sat her up and kneeled beside her. “Before I met you, I lived in the dark. But since you've come into my life, even the darkness is filled with your light. I don't know how much time I have until I lose my vision completely. Before I do, I want to see you walking down the aisle of the church wearing white like the angel you are. Danielle, would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

She cocked her head. “That was a beautiful speech, but your memory must be fading along with your sight because we're already married.”

“I want to do it right. You deserve more than a five-minute ceremony at the courthouse. This morning, I officially asked Roman for your hand. I never thought I'd get married, and now that I am, I want it all. The church wedding with our family and friends, the reception at the house, the honeymoon.” He took her hand. “Say yes, Danielle. Even when I'm blind, I'll still see you. I don't need working eyes or photographs for that. You are my light.”

She cupped his cheek. “And you are my mirror. I'll always say yes. Of course I'll marry you again.”

 

Don't miss Shelly's first sexy and suspenseful novel featuring Benediction!

The four-part serialized erotic thriller that started it all . . .

WHITE COLLARED

Parts One–Four

available now from Avon Red Impulse!

Read on for an excerpt . . .

An Excerpt from

WHITE COLLARED PART ONE: MERCY

Chapter One

T
HE SINGLE-TAIL
whip sliced through the air, leaving behind the thirteenth bloody line on a canvas of black and blue skin.

Did she understand the significance?

“Please,” she begged, her blonde hair muffling the sweet music of her cries. Her body shook as she whimpered and moaned in agony.

No, she had no idea.

She would.

Soon.

With the hunting knife in hand, he stalked to her and pressed it against her carotid. He inhaled the pungent scent of fear emanating from her sweat-soaked pores. “Do you like my new knife? I bought it for you.”

She shuddered. Oh yes, she definitely enjoyed his newest acquisition. Too bad he wouldn't be able to keep it.

Prone and hog-tied with thick blue rope that crisscrossed over her face and knotted around her arched neck, she waited for his next move, blood trickling from the soles of her feet as a result of the final lash. She panted, her lungs barely inflating.

After a brutal beating with both a cane and whip, most in her position would have tired and dropped their neck, strangling themselves on the rope. Her strength and determination surprised him.

Perhaps she required another challenge.

He rested his knife on the bed beside her and picked up his black duffel bag. Rummaging through it, he found the final torture and smiled. The thick, four-inch-tall, white leather posture collar would look beautiful on her. He buckled it around her neck, squeezing her windpipe with the rope.

“Why?” she gasped, the porcelain skin of her face reddening from the lack of oxygen to her blood.

“What motivates anyone to kill?” He lifted the knife. “There's greed.” He carved several shallow cuts on her torso. “Envy, anger, passion, self-defense, necessity.”

She stared at him in horror.

That simply wouldn't do.

“Identification.” With a lover's touch, he gently shut her eyelids. “But we can't forget the two most important reasons,” he whispered, slashing the bare mound between her legs.

“Revenge.”

She remained silent, her dusky bluish, mottled body frozen. His eyes teared at the realization that he'd never feel her lips on him again.

“And mercy.”

Then he plunged his new hunting knife straight into her nonbeating heart.

Chapter Two

Fourteen Days to Elections . . .

A
FTER THREE HOURS
of computer research on piercing the corporate veil, Kate's vision blurred, the words on the screen bleeding into one another until they resembled a giant Rorschach inkblot. She lowered her mug of lukewarm coffee to her cubicle's mahogany tabletop and rubbed her tired eyes.

Without warning, the door to the interns' windowless office flew open, banging against the wall. Light streamed into the dim room, casting the elongated shadow of her boss, Nicholas Trenton, on the beige carpet.

“Ms. Martin, take your jacket and come with me.” He didn't wait for a response, simply issued his command and strode down the hall.

Jumping to her feet, she teetered on her secondhand heels and grabbed her suit jacket from the back of her chair. As Mr. Trenton's intern for the year, she'd follow him off the edge of a cliff. She had no choice in the matter if she wanted a junior associate position at Detroit's most prestigious law firm, Joseph and Long, after graduation. Because of the fierce competition for an internship and because several qualified lackeys waited patiently in the wings for an opening, one minor screwup would result in termination.

Most of the other interns ignored the interruption, but her best friend Hannah took a second to raise an arched eyebrow. Kate shrugged, having no idea what her boss required. He hadn't spoken to her since her initial interview a few months earlier.

She collected her briefcase, her heart pounding. As far as she knew, she hadn't made a mistake since starting two months ago. Other than class time, she'd spent virtually every waking moment at this firm, a schedule her boyfriend, Tom, resented. To placate him, she'd used her dinner break last Saturday to drive to his place and give him a quick blow job before returning to work. She didn't even have time for her own orgasm.

She raced as fast as she could down the hallway and found her boss pacing and talking on his cell phone in the marbled lobby. He frowned and pointedly looked at his watch, demonstrating his displeasure at her delay. Still on the phone, he stalked out of the firm and headed toward the elevator. She chased him, cursing her short legs as she remained a step or two behind until catching up with him in the elevator.

When the doors slid shut, he ended his call and slipped his cell into the pocket of his Armani jacket. She risked a quick glance at him to ascertain his mood, careful not to visually suggest anything more than casual regard.

He was an extremely handsome man whose picture frequently appeared in local magazines and papers beside prominent judges and legislative officials. But photos couldn't do him justice, film lacking the capability of capturing his commanding presence. Often she'd had to fight her instinct to look directly into his blue eyes. At the office, his every move, his every word overshadowed anyone and everything around her.