All He Needs (All or Nothing) (26 page)

“I can’t,” she sobbed.

“Try that om thing.”

“Fuck you,” she gasped, so overwrought and feverish a thin sheen of perspiration filmed her body.

“All in due time,” he said. “But not yet.” Gripping her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, he stretched them gently outward until she squealed. “Too much?” He opened his fingers, watched the taut flesh contract, heard
her little feverish whimper, and cupped her big breasts in his palms. “Your tits are swollen and heavy.” He leaned in and nipped her ear. “But your body’s not completely prepared,” he whispered, “for maximum pleasure. When you get there, baby, you’ll be ready for anything.”

She never thought she’d allow him unconditional license. And yet, she was so over-the-top horny now, so utterly consumed by lust, his words sounded like a promise of pleasure rather than a threat. And a moment later, when he slid his finger past the dildo to expose her clit, then lightly skimmed the tip of the brush teasingly over her greedy nub in slow twirling spirals, half-delirious, trembling all over, she cried out. “Please, Dominic. Don’t make me wait. I’m ready now for whatever you want to do.”

How many times, how many hours and days, weeks, months, and years had he played these carnal games? And yet, when Katherine fully, eagerly offered herself up to him, all those former vice-ridden amusements faded into oblivion. Bending low, he gently kissed her trembling lips. “I’m going to go very slowly,” he whispered. “We’ll take our time.” Glazing the pearls with lube from the brush, he added, velvet soft, “You’ll feel the brush first.”

Sliding his hand under her right knee, he lifted it, then set her foot on the bed to allow him better access. Dipping the brush in the scented lube, he slid the sleek tip in slow circles over and around, up and down her virgin entrance while he eased the dildo in and out, slowly, gently, targeting her G-spot for brief moments, then shifting away, knowing the pearls would put added pressure on the dildo and her favorite sweet spot. And when she was delirious
with pleasure, panting, needy, the flush of arousal spreading up her chest and throat, he slipped the first lubed pearl past the sensitive opening, heard her helpless whimper turn to a low, lush moan, and seconds later slowly eased in the next pearl… and then the next. Another and another. Until all five were snuggly inside.

She was filled as she’d never been filled before, the forbidden pressure exquisitely arousing, the dildo moving on one side, the pearls flexing on the other. Writhing under the overwhelming invasion, uttering little keening cries, the flush rose hot pink up her throat to her face, signaling her imminent orgasm.

Recognizing how she was trembling on the brink, Dominic slipped off her blindfold, took her face in his hands, leaned in close, and whispered, “I own you, baby. Every breath. Every heartbeat. Every precious part of you.”

She shook her head, formed the word
no
, but was so near climax, so ravenous with lust, she couldn’t find breath to speak.

He leaned back, ran his finger over her mouth. “I need a yes, baby. You know that don’t you.”

He didn’t have to say,
Or else.
She tensed.

“You’re mine, baby—property of Dominic Knight.” His fingers brushed her cheek. “Aren’t you?”

She nodded.

He smiled. “There you go, baby. Time to rock and roll.” Sliding his hand between her legs, knowing that at this stage of her arousal if he pulled out a pearl, the incredible rush would kick-start her climax—he did just that.

He wound the thin gold chain around his finger—and pulled.

Her orgasm exploded on cue, wildly, loudly, her scream shattering the silence. And as he slowly pulled out each additional pearl, her nerves, already fiercely convulsing, were further goaded and pleasure amplified, magnified, into a seething, tumbling, unrestrained cascade of maxed-out, unparalleled sensation that continued so long and with such unremitting intensity that she was left pale and trembling.

Only when her last spasm died away did he slide the dildo out. Then, lifting her into his arms, he cradled her on his lap and gently kissed her until she stopped shaking. “You’re incredible, Katherine,” he whispered, his breath warm on her cheek, feeling as though all his senses were heightened, as though he’d had the orgasm himself.

It was both unnerving and fantastic.

Like so much of their relationship.

He came out of his reverie when she tapped his chest with the cuffs.

Unclasping the bracelets, he dropped them on the bed. “Are you okay?” He dipped his head, met her gaze. “Nothing damaged?”

Her smile was slow and lush. “Everything’s fine. That was intense. You really are Svengali. I hate you and love you at the same time.” She suddenly grinned. “But you know what’s coming next, don’t you?” Sliding off his lap, she moved to the foot of the bed, and sitting cross-legged, tried not to smirk. “My turn.”

He was feeling so fine that he didn’t even grumble,
although he knew what was coming. Especially when she’d casually mentioned love. He turned to face her, slid up against the headboard, settled back, and stretched out his legs. “Do your worst, baby.”

“Tell me about Julia.”

His surprise showed; he’d expected a quiz on his feelings.

“It’s just that she seemed like such a remarkable woman, selfless, brave, compassionate. Like some superwoman.”

“She
was
remarkable,” he said, finding it easier to talk about Julia, not knowing why exactly, wondering if his fabulous nonorgasm was the cause. “But what you and I have is different.” There was a short silence, as though he were searching for the right words. “It’s chaotic, volatile, occasionally mind-blowing.” He smiled. “You’re my reminder that life comes in many shades of beautiful.

“I met Julia on Everest,” he went on, as if she’d asked. “She was climbing with a group raising money for some charity she was involved in. She was amazing. Nothing stopped her. Only five of us made it to the summit that spring. And we nearly didn’t. The weather was fierce. Rare storms. There shouldn’t have been any that time of year.” He shrugged. “It’s funny how life is overshadowed by chance so often. How you meet someone. Or maybe you don’t. And an opportunity passes you by.” His voice had gone soft at the end. “Do you ever think how we almost didn’t meet? I do.” He seemed to gather himself, his mouth twitched into a grin. “It damn near makes me think about going to church if I had a church to go to.”

“I’m more a gypsy fate person. Although,” Kate said
with a little dip of her head and the dazzling smile that always made him feel like the most fortunate man on the face of the earth, “I’m not above thanking Lady Luck or whomever for this—us—you, me, whatever. So tell me,” she said abruptly, changing the subject back because she had a limited time to ask her questions and Dominic’s late wife was a major enigma. “Julia’s charity offers microloans to women, right?”

“Actually, the charity was something Roscoe’s first wife started and when that marriage folded, Julia took over.”

“I suppose there were too many grateful women wanting to show their gratitude for you or Roscoe to handle.”

He looked up startled, then nodded, and said, “Some. Enough.”

“Julia kept them at bay.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I never interfered. And Charlie was with Julia almost from the start. They’d met in a marketing class at Stanford. I didn’t know either one of them then. They were younger, not in my field and the school’s”—another shrug—“big. Not that I’m interested in talking about Charlie.”

“That makes two of us.”

He grinned. “And my five minutes are almost up.”

“Were you timing mine?”

He laughed. “You never take long, baby. But fast or slow, I just want you to know you’re rocking my world in a really nice way.”

“Then maybe I could ask you a favor.”

“My answer is yes.” He smiled. “I know that look.”

“Then you don’t mind?”

“Not while my heart is still beating.”

“I just want it simple. I like to feel you over me. I like to feel you slowly fill me. I like the warmth of your body on mine.”

“You got it, baby.”

They made love gently, slowly, without drama or fireworks. Once, then once again when she said, “I just love coming when you do.” And one more time because he liked coming with her. She fell asleep first. He lay awake for a time, reflecting on the phrase
making love
from an entirely different point of view. But soon he dozed off too. It had been a long, busy, physically taxing three days.

D
ominic awoke with a start, his mind racing. He glanced at the windows—still dark—then at the clock. Six. Carefully easing out of bed, he grabbed his jeans, walked out into the hall, stepped into them, and quickly descended the stairs. Entering his office, he shut the door, powered up his laptop and sent a quick e-mail to Justin:
It’s a go. Find a flat. Talk to Roscoe. Will touch base later.
Then he sent an e-mail to Roscoe:
Justin needs an account set up. Give him whatever he wants.
Shutting down his laptop, he raised his head and listened for a moment.

No sounds from upstairs. He picked up the phone.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said.

“Anytime, Nick,” a sleepy voice said. “What’s up?”

Dominic could hear the rustle of bed sheets. “I need a codicil to my will. Nothing complicated. I want to split my assets between my sister and a Miss Katherine Hart. If you need her social security number or address, check with Roscoe.” A door shut and his attorney’s voice was suddenly crisp.

“Are you sure? Just an attorney question, but that’s a fucking lot of money.”

“Melanie won’t mind sharing. She and Matt are comfortable.”

“Jesus, you’re not dying of something?”

“No, my health is fine. I have a meeting on Tuesday that could be difficult. In the event things don’t go well, I’d like Miss Hart to be taken care of.”

“What do you mean don’t go well?” Chris Robbins’s voice shot up.

“It’s just business. But the people I’m dealing with are, let’s say, unpredictable.”

“Seriously?” Another spiking rise in tone.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure everything will be fine. This is just insurance.”

“Okay, okay. But why haven’t I heard of this woman?”

“Because you’re my attorney, not my keeper.”

“Are you gonna marry her?”

“I haven’t thought about it. So if I had to give you an answer right now, I’d say no.”

“But you have decided to give her half your fortune. Any special reason for that?” Chris Robbins carefully articulated.

“Not that reason,” Dominic said with amusement. “But I have plenty of money. She might as well have some.”

“Jesus, you’re not high are you?”

“Nope, and she’s not blackmailing me. So you’ve done your fiduciary duty, Chris. I know what I’m doing. Bring the codicil with you when you come at ten. I’ll leave my desk drawer open. Just put the papers in there.”

“Last time. You’re of sound mind and all that shit.”

“Better than usual. Actually, much better. See you at ten.”

Returning to bed, taking care not to wake Katherine, Dominic slid under the covers. He was pleasantly exhausted; Katherine had worn him out last night. But he
couldn’t be happier. Turning his head on the pillow, he looked at her lying on her back, deep in sleep, and was reminded, as always, how young she looked in slumber. Rosy-cheeked, her eyelids faintly smudged with vestiges of last night’s eye shadow, her long lashes resting on her pale, silken skin. So smooth and soft, it was like a baby’s skin. Her full lips were a natural pink, her lipstick long gone, the shape of her mouth picture perfect, tempting. The back of one hand lay curved against her temple, the other rested on the upper swell of one breast, the pink aureole slightly covered.

Her nipple fully erect.

That
was truly tempting.

Fresh-faced and dewy-skinned though she might be, she was all woman in every other sense and he could feel his erection coming to life, exhausted or not. Roscoe calling her a sorceress was not entirely without merit. Perhaps Roscoe understood that better than anyone, since he’d seen Knight Enterprises without a CEO twice in as many months.

Unprecedented actions for a man who’d worked nonstop for the last twelve years. Then Katherine came awake and smiled at him, and nothing else mattered. Not work, not the last twelve years, not the last twelve minutes. They had a few more days together. He wasn’t going to spoil them by thinking too much. Leaning over, he kissed her good morning. “How are you feeling?” His brows lifted faintly. “Sore?”

“A teeny bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing really.”

“That’s good, but I do apologize. Would you like me to run a bath for you?”

“Not right now. And you can stop apologizing.” She smiled. “Because your five minutes were radically fine, I had my five minutes too, and they were excellent.”

He smiled. “You’re a tough negotiator.” He pointed at the remote on her side of the bed, deliberately changing the subject. In the clear light of day, he wasn’t about to open up any further discussions about his feelings.

“What are those two
Sesame Street
words?” Kate archly inquired, a mischievous light in her eyes.

The merest flicker of a frown, quickly gone. “The remote. Please.
And
thank you.”

She handed it to him.

He clicked on the TV, tossed the quilt aside, and threw the remote at his feet. Before she could utter another syllable, he flipped her so her head was near the foot of the bed, rolled over her, settling between her legs all in one smooth, kinetic flow of brute force and muscle. “Just so you don’t forget who gives the orders here,” he murmured as he flipped through channels. “Although you’ve done a very nice job of keeping my dick up the last three days.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “We
both
thank you, even though you wore us out.”

Kate shifted her lower body slightly against his erection. “He doesn’t seem worn out.”

“That’s a relative term with you, baby. Anything this side of last rites is a go, so we’re good.” His gaze was on the TV. “So what can we do for you this morning?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I was thinking about maybe an orgasm to start the day.”

“Only one?”

“Hey, do you mind?” She tapped his cheek.

He glanced down at her. “Really? They’re rewiring the electrical system in an old Camaro. I can do two things at once.”

She glared at him.

“Okay, okay.” He hit Record, then clicked off the TV. “There.” He smiled at her. “Here we are, baby. Full concentration.”

Taking her face between his hands, he slowly kissed her and even more slowly entered her, knowing exactly where she wanted him, how deep, and how high.

“I need to feel you inside me and over me, touching me,” Kate whispered, lifting her mouth for a kiss as Dominic languidly slid inside her. “Always…”

“That works out then,” Dominic murmured, smiling as he kissed her. “Because we have this insatiable craving for you.” But she was swollen, tight. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.” He stopped to rest, waited for her flesh to relax. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

Her green-eyed gaze was sleepy. “You feel good,” she whispered. “Big.”

No shit. Because she was super tight.
He gently flexed his legs, advanced a fraction more, felt like a fucking explorer mapping new territory. But her sleek tissue slowly turned supple, yielding, and ultimately he reached his goal. “Is that too far?”

“Ummmm—no… umm,” she groaned. “Oh God—do… that again.”

He always felt absurdly pleased when he could give her pleasure, as if he were placed on earth to indulge her; a bizarre thought always quickly forgotten after sex. “Like this?” He barely moved, but he shifted his hips enough to exert a tenuous pressure on her favorite sweet spot.

“Oh, God, Jesus, Dominic,” she panted. “You can’t ever leave…”

“Just a little,” he murmured, withdrawing enough to add friction to the pressure when he thrust in again.

Her protest died in her throat, altered to a low, rapturous moan. Then she jerked his head down hard and hissed, “You’re perfect, damn it. I hate you for it. Now do that again.”

He did, several times and in several different ways, until she’d come, he had, she had, until much later she finally punched him hard in the chest.

“Sure?” he said with a faint smile.

“We’re not all machines,” she gasped.

“You’re the boss, baby.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You don’t have a clue,” he said with a smile, having altered his entire life for her. “But no complaints.” He kissed her lightly. “Time for a soak in the tub?”

She almost said,
How do you know that’s exactly what I want at this exact moment?
But after all those lovely, gentle, balmy morning orgasms, she wasn’t in the mood to ask any questions she might not really want to know the answers to.

They were in the tub when Patty arrived, the kitchen
noises drifting up the stairway an indication that she was setting up for the day.

“Hungry?”

Kate was sitting between Dominic’s legs, her back against his chest, her head on his shoulder, half asleep. She nodded.

“Want breakfast in bed or downstairs?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Can you stay awake to eat?”

“Coffee,” she murmured.

“Coming right up, baby. Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Easing out from behind her, he stepped out of the tub, saw that she was resting comfortably against the tub back, and turned on the faucet to warm the water while he threw on a pair of sweats.

Semidressed, his wet hair dripping on his shoulders, he flicked off the tap and frowned; Katherine’s eyes were shut, her breathing slow. “Should I lift you out? I wouldn’t want you to drown in your sleep.”

“I won’t drown,” she whispered. “Hurry.”

He was in the kitchen moments later, rubbing his hair with a towel. “Morning, Patty. I need coffee five minutes ago.”

“She must be hot. You don’t fetch and carry.” Flicking her blond braids over her shoulder, Patty pulled out a tray and set two large cups and two spoons on it.

“She is.” Dominic grinned, tossing the towel on the white marble counter. “So I fetch and carry. Some pastry?”

“Warm chocolate croissants?” The coffee was poured, sugar and cream added to the tray.

“You’re a saint.”

“We already determined that years ago.” Patty took two
croissants out of a warming oven drawer and placed them in a napkin-lined basket. “Have your special friend tell you what she wants for breakfast. I’ll see what I can do. Or maybe,” she said with her usual cheek, “I’ll just cook what I want.”

Dominic gave her a look. “Maybe you’ll cook what Katherine wants today.”

“Whoa… did I really hear that?”

“Just be nice, Patty, okay? Do that for me?”

“Sure, Nicky. No problem.” Folding the napkin ends over the croissants, she handed the tray to Dominic. “But I’m expecting to meet a goddess after seeing you actually move your ass for a woman,” she said with a wink.

He swore at her, and she grinned. “Just for starters I’ll make French toast with caramelized bananas and crème fraîche. But I’m open to orders, boss. You know that.”

He didn’t, of course, because Patty hadn’t taken an order in the sixteen years she’d worked for him. But she cooked like she surfed, perfect form, and to-die-for creativity, so he’d never complained. And she was looking serious and sincere, which was a hopeful sign. “Thanks, Patty. Now be nice to Katherine. I like her.”

No shit
, Patty thought, watching Dominic’s retreating form.
Let me mark this day on the never-thought-it-would-happen calendar.

When Kate and Dominic came down to breakfast, Kate did a quick double take because Patty was close to Dominic’s age, blond and beautiful in a cool Nordic way, and in great shape, and she wondered if they were more than employer/employee. But she reminded herself that
Dominic had been relatively open with her last night… or as capable as he was of openness—so she had to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Dominic introduced the women.

“Nice to meet you,” Patty said, taking in Kate’s cuff bracelets without expression.

“Same here.” Kate smiled, ignoring Patty’s glance. “The coffee and croissants were fabulous. Did you make the croissants?”

Patty nodded and grinned. “That’s why Nicky pays me the big bucks.”

Dominic didn’t know where Patty was going with that smart-ass grin, so he said, “Breakfast smells good. Are you ready for us?”

“Sure, boss.”

Patty calling him boss wasn’t reassuring. Dominic gave her a warning glance as he followed Kate to the table. And whether she acknowledged it or not, she was super polite as they ate.

Patty’s French toast was truly decadent, as was a fruit plate that could have been on display in a museum, and the coffee was everything coffee should be: hot, a teeny bit sweet, and strong, with just a trace of austerity to remind you of the reason you drank coffee.

Patty sat at the kitchen table with them and talked about her husband and children. She got up to point out pictures of her family on the kitchen walls—on Dominic’s kitchen walls, Kate reflected. And she was actually a little brusque with Dominic at times. She called him Nicky
too, like Melanie did. Kate liked that Dominic had people around him who were a part of his life—that he wasn’t completely alone.

Dominic worried that Patty was being too friendly and solicitous. But Katherine didn’t seem to notice. And when she praised Patty’s coffee, asking how she made it, what type of coffee she used, and if she could get some for her grandmother, the ice—if there had been any—had broken, melted, and evaporated into the atmosphere.

Patty couldn’t do enough for Katherine. Because, she figured, (1) the very first woman Dominic had brought to this house warranted special treatment and (2) those cuff bracelets Katherine was wearing were really out there for someone like Dominic, who kept his kink private. So Patty actually ran her day’s menu past Katherine in the event some of the food didn’t appeal.

Kate said, “I eat anything,” then blushed so sweetly, Patty didn’t wonder that she appealed to Dominic after years of women who wouldn’t know how to blush if their lives depended on it.

And when they left after breakfast to go up on the roof to sit in the sun, Patty murmured as Dominic left the kitchen, “She’s a keeper, Nicky. You did good.”

From the rooftop, the view of the Golden Gate Bridge was postcard worthy, the sun warm as they lay side by side on chaises, the sense of contentment thick enough to cut with a butter knife.

“Happy?” Dominic touched Kate’s hand, then slid his finger over the gold bracelet.