Soul Rest: A Knights of the Board Room Novel (42 page)

Matt took the stage then. While Ben had acknowledged Leland’s comment with a quick salute, he and Marcie went back to dancing in a slow sway to their own music, not a breath between their bodies. Marcie pressed her face into his throat, one hand on Ben’s chest. She reached back with the other one to tangle fingers with the hand he had spread out low on her hip. His grip shifted to her wrist, holding her that way, arm pulled behind her, pressing her body more firmly into the angles and curves of his own. It was a less-than-subtle gesture of the Dominant/submissive relationship between them, and when he lifted his head to meet her gaze, her lips parted and their fingers tightened together, their bodies obviously responding to those overt nuances.

Matt coughed into the microphone, loud enough to cause feedback, drawing their attention as a chuckle rippled through the crowd.

“Thank you. It’s almost as difficult to get him to pay attention in a meeting.”

Ben snorted. “Because I’m always ten steps ahead of you guys. You have to catch up to me.”

“No, it’s because he’s sexting Marcie and doesn’t have time for work,” Lucas called out from where he was sitting with Cassandra, arm behind her chair, his legs stretched out in front of him. “Time to fire his ass, Matt.”

“I would do that, but then he and Marcie would have to move back in with you and Cassandra.”

“Not with what I’m paying her to keep her out of your clutches,” Savannah tossed out.

A grin wreathed Matt’s handsome features. “Marcie?” He dropped his voice to a dramatic stage whisper. “Just FYI, we offer better maternity benefits than Tennyson, when you and Ben decide the world is ready for little replicas of you.”

Tucking his tongue in his cheek at his wife’s dagger look, he drew an envelope out of his suit coat, waving it at the crowd to hush the laughter. “We’ve already given Ben his wedding gift. Of course, every wise man knows what’s hers is hers and what’s his is hers, so technically you could say we’ve already given her a gift too. Nevertheless, we wanted to officially give Marcie something as well.”

Pulling out his phone, he glanced at it, then crossed his arms, tapping his toe as more titters ran through the crowd. “Just a few more seconds.”

Celeste became aware of the purring sound of an engine. Looking around, she didn’t see anything, but Matt nodded, apparently receiving the cue he needed. “Some time ago, Ben put his car up for auction for the battered women’s shelter we support. Richard Lewis bought it and funded the shelter’s operating costs for a year.” He pointed to the man in question, who raised his glass, amusement in his expression. Ben turned, gave him a quizzical look, and then he and Marcie brought their equally curious glances back to the stage.

“There were many reasons Ben decided to do that. But the most important one was that he is a good man, with a good heart, who deserves the love of the woman he’s holding right now. All of us”—he nodded toward the table where Peter, John and Lucas sat—”and the women we’re lucky enough to have as our own, fully agree on that. We have no doubts. You understand?”

Ben’s expression grew still, and Marcie ran her hand over his shoulder, lifting on her toes to touch her lips to his throat as he held her.

“We love you both,” Matt said seriously. “And so you understand that we have no doubts, and to remind yourself of that whenever necessary, we decided this was the best gift for us to get Marcie. But I do emphasize”—he waved the envelope—”this is for her. You can’t play with it unless she says it’s okay.”

Another laugh from the crowd, and then Matt extended the envelope toward her.

Marcie approached the stage, holding Ben’s hand so he came with her. She released him only when she needed both hands to open the envelope. As she unfolded the piece of paper inside it, her eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

The engine sound became a revving noise. Everyone shifted toward the open side of the tent as a silver sports car emerged from behind the house. With Max at the wheel, the Mercedes-Benz McLaren Roadster carefully bumped over the lawn, coming to a halt at the fringe of outdoor tables arranged outside the tent. A large white bow was tied over the gleaming hood.

Marcie squealed in delight. Ben tossed Matt a narrow look, though a smile flirted around his mouth. “I hope Lewis charged you full price,” he said darkly.

Marcie flew through the crowd, holding up her skirt, revealing she’d ditched her shoes some time back, so she was now in bare feet as she ran to the car. Max was getting out of it, unfolding his large frame from the bucket seat. When he dropped the keys into her palm, she embraced him enthusiastically and then whirled toward Ben. “This is almost worth marrying you,” she called out over the whistles and cheers.

Despite her teasing, when Marcie stretched out her hand to her husband, there was no doubt that he was the only man she wanted, the one that filled her shining eyes with love. Celeste didn’t think any man in the world would have been able to resist her, let alone the man who loved her best of all.

As he caught her fingers in his, Ben drew her close, putting his arm around her waist and pressing the backs of her legs against the car when he bent and kissed her throat. Marcie slid her arms around his shoulders, but as her lips parted, Celeste thought she detected a shudder. She had a feeling Ben had just told her in concise detail what he planned to do to her on the hood of that car.

“If the two of them get any more combustible, they’re going to incite an orgy,” Leland commented.

Celeste slanted him a glance. “Would that be a problem, Sergeant?”

“Private property and out of my jurisdiction. None of my business.” He shot her a smile, sliding his arm behind her, then lower to caress the top of her buttocks, his fingers playing in the seam between them through the thin cloth of her dress. “I’m just counting the minutes until that after-party.”

Though she was enjoying the festivities, at the look in his eyes, she had to agree. The worries she had about what might or might not happen there seemed far less important than the desire she had to be even closer to her Master than she was right now. Ben and Marcie’s obvious desire for one another was a contagion, and she was already feeling fever symptoms.

§

When the reception concluded, there were several hours to endure before the after-party. She had graphic visions of the things Leland might do to pass the time in the privacy of the guest bedroom, but instead he left her with a hot kiss on the front porch, his possessive hands sliding over her hips as he gazed down at her.

“I have to go check on some things with Matt and the others. I’d recommend a nap. I left you a gift, if you decide you want to wear it tonight.”

She raised a brow, but he bent to kiss her again. She met him eagerly, doing her best to convince him he needed to come back to the bedroom with her, her body rubbing against his until he untangled her arms from his neck and gave her a mock-severe look.

“Behave, woman.” But he ran a thumb over her lips and his warm look said he wasn’t displeased with her. It occurred to her then she hadn’t been feeling that push-pull inside her she often had with him. Maybe weddings were like Christmas, bringing out a person’s better side. If that was the case, she wanted Leland to reap the full benefit of that. His body against hers, the firm pressure of him against her stomach, the way his hands gripped her, made her desire all the more acute.

She thought of Marcie in that beautiful dress, Ben’s eyes hot on every inch of her. The love that had woven itself around all that desire made the day perfect for them in every way. She needed Leland to assuage this ache, a tangle of lust and need as well. She couldn’t bear another moment. There was too much pressure building inside her, and she didn’t know how it would manifest tonight, in front of other people. She might do things she couldn’t take back, things she couldn’t control.

Okay, maybe weddings didn’t help. Or they brought out the brat in a different form, because she could feel the shift inside her from pleasurable yearning to fierce insistence, whatever else was happening right now be damned.

“Celeste. Darlin’.” He caught her nape in a firm grip, snapping her attention up to him. She met golden-brown eyes that held that steady calm, that implacable look. “Settle down.”

She jerked away, turned and left him. She needed to breathe. Needed to get a grip. What was the matter with her? She went back into the house, up the stairs and to the guestroom. She’d forgotten what he’d said about a gift until she was there and saw the slim gray velvet box on the bed, tied with a silver bow.

She sank down next to it, rubbing her forehead. She’d been fine until she’d let her thoughts run away with her. Sometimes she thought her quicksilver moods happened because of some dark trigger inside her. If she was too happy or content, it sprang like a trap, dragging her back into the shadows. Today everything was about light, good, love. Suddenly she felt out of place here, and she knew she shouldn’t feel that way. She wasn’t isolated. She wasn’t alone. She just kept making herself feel that way.

Setting her jaw, she put the box in her lap, untied the bow. Removing the lid, she pulled back a thin piece of tissue paper to see what lay on the white satin beneath.

Everything whirling inside her came to a portentous halt.

She sensed him in the doorway. Though she hadn’t expected him to follow her, she’d hoped he would. That was what he did to her. He made her hope, and he kept making her hope, because he kept doing things she didn’t expect. Like being there when she needed him, knowing what she needed to make a bad feeling better.

“It’s beautiful,” she said in a small voice.

He came into the room, a big man who made the floorboards vibrate as he walked. If they lived together, she would always know where he was, would always feel his presence vibrate through her physically as well as emotionally.

Dropping to one knee beside her, he unhooked the string of black-and-silver beads around her throat, a piece of costume jewelry that worked with the dress. Then he lifted the necklace out of the box. “Let’s see if I have the measurements right.”

He put the delicate silver chain around her neck, leaning forward so his forearm rested on her shoulder and his body brushed hers. It fit like a choker, the pendant resting just above the center points of her collarbone. “You have such a slender neck. So fragile.” His fingers slid over it. “So beautiful. You’re beautiful, Celeste. And mine. Aren’t you?”

She nodded, unable to speak. The pendant was a pair of linked silver hearts. Two intricate silver roses were woven through them. Where the stems emerged on either side, they threaded into a handcuff, which connected to the chain that circled her neck.

The necklace contained multiple messages, much like the ones he sent whenever he touched her.

“This is a pretty dress.” He dropped his hand down to smooth her skirt that stopped at mid-thigh. His fingers teased the lining beneath the hem. “Come with me.”

He lifted her off the bed with a hand under her elbow and brought her to the dresser, so she could see the way the necklace looked on her throat. Standing behind her, he had her clasp the two handles of the long top drawer, which spread her arms out to either side.

“I want you to hold on to those. You don’t let go until I tell you. Right?” He shot her an expectant look, and those tumultuous feelings settled at a lower spin inside her chest, like disturbed sediment returning to the bottom of a pond.

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

His expression was so serious. When he was like this, she knew what he expected of her. What she expected of herself. Her breath shortened as he stepped back, unbuckled his belt, stripped it out of his slacks. Doubled it over.

He put his hand on her nape again, massaged it, sending a sensuous wave through her shoulders and back, over her breasts. She closed her eyes, dropping her head to her shoulder, wanting to rub her face against his hand.

“Open your eyes, Celeste. I want you to look at the necklace while I’m doing this, think about what it means.”

She complied, though all of her peripheral attention strained for him. She bit her lip as he worked the dress up, held it just above her buttocks with one hand.

“Wearing thong underwear to tempt your Master with your gorgeous ass.” He
tsk
ed.
“My bad, good girl.”

The first strike of the belt was low, on her upper thighs, the next on the widest part of her ass. The sting of it was sharp, immediate, a relief. She had to resist the urge to close her eyes again, absorb it through all her senses more deeply.

He did it a dozen times, until she was flinching and she could feel the throb of the strikes on her thighs and ass. He slid her skirt back in place, moving behind her to smooth it over her buttocks. When he pressed himself against her, she made a hungry sound at his size, her pussy aching to have him thrust his thick cock inside her. But he was teaching her something, and proved it now by catching her gaze in the mirror and locking it in the unblinking regard of his.

“I’m your Master, Celeste. When you want something, you don’t get pushy about it. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice was trembling. He always made her tremble.

He bent to put his lips on her throat just above the necklace. His collar. “I expect you’ll remember that for as long as it takes me to leave this room and reach the bottom of the stairs. But I don’t mind reinforcing the lesson. I’ve thought a lot about tonight. About the different equipment Ben has in his loft. I don’t want anyone else touching you, but I think I wouldn’t mind them seeing how lucky I am, with my beautiful submissive. What do you think of that? What will you do if I want to peel you out of that dress and take you, right there in front of all of them?”

“I think you’ve got me so worked up I wouldn’t care if you did it in the middle of Bourbon Street.” She gave a desperate half laugh, dipped her head because she couldn’t look at herself in the mirror just then. “Please. I can’t think.”

He cupped her face, held it to his shoulder as he pressed against her back. “You need your Master to fuck you right now, make it better?”