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BOOK: BindingCherryBlossoms
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“Begging? Are you joking? Papa never begs anyone for
anything. From what I was told your grandfather is desperate to find you a
wife. All of the pure-blood Japanese families have turned you down already
because your father is as American as apple pie.”

His head jerked back as if she’d smacked him, his mouth
thinning into a perfect imitation of her father’s and she instantly regretted
the insult.

Damn it.

“Ian, I am sorry.” She reached over the table to grab his
hand as he stood. “Please, wait.” To her relief he sat back down, purposefully
removing his hand from hers. “Why don’t we start over? Look, I understand
you’re against this marriage idea as much as I am, but our families are going
to throw us together every chance they get. So why don’t we agree to enjoy each
other’s company until their merger is complete? After that we can go back to
our separate lives. No dishonor. No feelings hurt. And in the meantime I will
be happy to show you around town. I know some great nightclubs if you like to
dance or I can take you sailing. We have a boat at the marina and the weather
is great this time of year.” She smiled to show she was serious about making
his trip entertaining. “I’ll be your very own tour guide. I come cheap,” she
added as their server brought the check. “All you have to do is pay for the
food.”

To her relief he chuckled as he pulled out his credit card
and handed it over with the bill. “You drive a hard bargain, Sakura, but I know
a good deal when I see one.” She was almost too pleased when he said her name.
It sounded exotic on his tongue, the pronunciation perfectly Japanese.

“Great. Where shall we start?”

The rest of the day passed quite pleasantly once they’d
gotten their main argument solved and tucked away. Ian was actually a great
guy, she realized as he beat her for the second time at the basketball hoops.
After Sakura had taken him on a quick tour of the marina, they’d spent several
hours at the arcade, dueling in everything from the traditional sport of
Skee-Ball to virtual racecar driving. When she demanded he buy her pizza and
ice-cream as per their agreed upon arrangement, he did it without complaint,
even when she flat-out refused to let him order anchovies on the side.

By the time they made it back to Nakao Enterprises it was
pushing eleven, and Sakura knew her father would be pacing the floor with
worry. She’d fended off several of his calls to her cell already and knew he
had no intention of going to bed until he heard every detail of her first night
together with Ian.

“Thank you for the evening.” Ian bowed his head slightly as
he pulled up to the curb and moved to open her car door. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Me too.” To her chagrin Sakura found herself stalling,
unwilling for their time together to end. But when she caught him staring at
her with an expression that made her want to find the nearest posh hotel, she
shook her head and pulled out her cell. “What’s your number? Don’t you want me
to call and take you out another time?” she added as his brows tucked together
in a fascinating glower.

“Give me your number instead.” He took out his own phone.
“I’ll call you.”

“Right. Like I haven’t heard that before.”

He grinned at that, squinting at her in the dark as if he
were trying to decide whether she was serious or joking. Sakura opted to keep
him guessing as she rattled off the digits in her very best computer imitation.

“Good.” Before she understood his intent, he took her face
between his hands, gave her a grin that took her breath away, and kissed her
soundly. “It was an honor to meet you, Sakura Nakao—despite whatever our
families have arranged.”

Before she could say another word, he let her go and got
back in his car. Sakura spun and headed for her own car, refusing to turn and
see if he was still watching as she rounded the corner, finally taking a breath
of relief when she knew he was out of sight.

Wow! That had been one of the best dates she’d ever had…or
not, she corrected herself, remembering their platonic arrangement. Still, Ian
was excellent company and they had a ton of things in common.

You have things in common with your brother
.
And
that’s exactly how Ian wants it. You know the let’s-just-be-friends routine,
and that’s the only thing you have going on here
.

“I know.” Sakura froze when she realized she’d said the
words aloud, then felt like stomping her foot on the concrete as she found
herself already trying to figure out a way to modify their understanding.

But that kiss…

Surely that kiss meant something more than—

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she stated in a loud voice for the
record as she unlocked her car and headed for home. Suddenly she wanted to date
Ian Shoji for real despite their families’ machinations. He just might turn out
to be the catch of a lifetime, and she’d been idiot enough to throw away her
only chance before she’d taken the time to get to know the man.

But how would he be in bed
? Another wicked thought
rose up from her subconscious.
Could he make you come like you did last
night?
Do you think he’d ever tie you down to the bed and fuck you so
hard you can barely breathe?
Or call you beautiful and make you scream
in pleasure?

“I am psycho,” Sakura muttered, the sound driving out all
the other voices. How could she desire two men tonight when she’d never met
either of them two days ago? Just when she thought her luck with men was
beginning to change, she’d stumbled into an entirely different dilemma. Too
much of a good thing brought its own particular brand of chaos and she was
careening headfirst into misfortune’s gateway.

Sakura’s mother yelled at her from the kitchen as soon as
Sakura walked in the front door. “You need boob job. Ian half-American.
American men like big boobs.”

“No boob job, Mama.” Sakura shouted just as loud. “No nose
job. No lip plumping. I have no intention of changing anything, not for Ian or
any other man.”

Aiko Nakao was finishing the last of her late-night tea when
Sakura joined her at the kitchen table. “Here.” She shoved a small pouch in her
daughter’s direction. “
Onamori. En Masubi
,” she added as if that
explained everything. “Good luck charm for finding and catching a man,” she
finished in exasperation as Sakura continued to stare blankly at the object.

“A good luck charm for catching a man,” Sakura echoed, her
lips twisting in disgust. “Really? Where did you get this silly thing?” She
moved to toss it in the garbage but her Mother grabbed her hand.

“Very bad luck to get rid of,” she stated with a stern shake
of her head. “Throw away, you never find husband. Bring dishonor to whole
family.”

Sakura thumped her head on the table. “Someone save me from
my crazy parents’ superstitious nonsense.”

“No nonsense.” Her father poked his head into the room and
joined them, tightening the sash of his bathrobe. “
Fuku.
Very good luck.
Made by Shinto priest. Put in your purse and carry with you whenever you meet
Shoji-san. He will propose just like that.” He snapped his fingers for added
measure.

“I already told you I don’t have any plans to marry Ian
Shoji.”

“Why not?” her mother demanded. “He not good man? Not treat
you with respect tonight?”

Sakura sighed, knowing his was going to be an utterly futile
discussion like so many they had had before. “Ian was very respectful,” she
answered, choosing her words carefully to keep her parents from calling his
family and complaining of his behavior. “He was polite, had good manners and
was very concerned with both our families’ honor.”

“Then you did discuss wedding,” her father stated in
satisfaction.

“No, Papa, we did not discuss a wedding.” Sakura tried to
keep her patience as both her parents stared at her as if she were the one
who’d lost her sanity. “Ian has no plans to marry me…or anyone else,” she
finished when she saw her father’s face turn nasty.

“He will obey his grandfather like any good heir.”

“He has a mind of his own and every right to choose who he
wants to marry without his family’s intervention.” Sakura stalked to the fridge
and poured a glass of orange juice. “The same as I do.”

“You will marry who I say you marry,” her father retorted,
his skin taking on an ugly shade of red. “And if you defy me, I will disown
you.”

“I know, I know.” Sakura bent to give him a kiss on the
cheek. “I love you, Papa, and would never do a thing to make you feel I have
treated you with disrespect, but this is the twenty-first century and we are living
in America. I am not a bargaining chip for your business ventures and I am
certainly not a piece of property you can sell to the highest bidder.”

Now it was her mother’s turn to intervene as Katashi stood
and placed his hands on his hips like a bull getting ready to charge. “Calm
yourself, husband. I am certain our most grateful daughter will make right
decision when the time comes.” She jerked her head toward Sakura’s bedroom.
“Sleep. We will speak again in morning.”

“Not if I make it out the door before you catch me.” Sakura
muttered the last to herself, vowing to set her alarm at least an hour early.
She was so upset with her parents she didn’t even notice as her hands tucked
the marriage charm deep inside her purse.

And sleep proved as difficult as her father’s personality.
It refused to visit her until the wee hours of dawn, and even then her dreams
were tormented by images of her
Bashuki’s
hands upon her skin…with Ian
Hideo Shoji’s face superimposed across the mask.

Chapter Three

 

Ian found himself staring out the window of his hotel far
past midnight, watching the sea rolling beneath the light of a waxing moon. His
day hadn’t gone anything like he’d planned.

When his family had first suggested the match with Sakura,
Ian had flat-out refused. Her parents hadn’t raised her to be a woman of
pleasure, and he was certain it would be more than difficult to train her. She
had no previous experience, even though her parents had assured the Shojis
their daughter just needed the right master to bring her under control.

She had, however, submitted to him at the Red Mask—albeit
stubbornly and with more questions than she had a right to ask, which gave him
hope she might become a proper and willing companion, even if he didn’t intend
to take her hand in marriage.

Miss Nakao was also a much more interesting companion than
he’d expected. Today she’d looked him straight in the eye on numerous
occasions, wasn’t afraid to laugh or curse, kicked his ass at video car racing
and tossed a mean basketball.

In fact, he’d enjoyed her company so much he was already
itching to call her to arrange their next outing. But he spiked his hand
through his hair as he realized the predicament he’d gotten himself into. He’d
already pushed the role of
Bakushi
too far to think of turning back, and
he had every reason to believe Sakura would flat-out refuse to listen to any
form of reason if she ever found out how he’d tricked her into his bed.

Not that he had any intention of stopping his tutelage at
the Red Mask. She had the Tea Ceremony she needed to learn, and he had many
more things to teach her about how he wanted her to behave…starting with their
next session tomorrow night.

And he had to decide if he could mold her into a worthy
mate.

He already had his rope laid out, a sleek strand of nylon
he’d purchased to match her hair. Her silky, exotic, purple-streaked hair that
had captured his interest both times they’d met. And she was as beautiful as
he’d imagined, her sky-high cheekbones framing a face that he knew would haunt
his dreams this night.

The entire day he had fought against the need to run his
fingers through her hair and every time she brushed against him or touched his
hand to show him some interesting sight, his body had responded with alacrity.
He hadn’t had a hard-on last this long since he was seventeen, and he relished
the return of his desire with abandon.

He stroked himself as he headed for the shower, the throb in
his cock enough to make him surly. But he would have her soon, he vowed as he
stripped and turned the water up to a scalding temperature that left little
room for enjoyment.

Very, very soon.

* * * * *

The next evening at the club, Sakura stared at the mask in
her hands. “It is lovely. Thank you, Madame Brisson.” Covered in cherry-red
silk, it was made to look as if worn by a geisha, the delicate eye-openings
almond shaped and tilting up at the corners, with
kanzashi
—traditional hairpins—rising
from each side, covered with perfectly shaped cherry blossoms in shades of pink
and white. It needed no other adornment, its simple design fitting in with both
her heritage and personal taste.

“You are most welcome.” Manette held a great black cat on
her lap, the feline blinking as if he were indeed emperor of the palace. “It is
perfect for you…and your situation.”

When nerves caused her fingers to tremble, Sakura set the
mask on the couch beside her so she would not damage the wispy creation. “What
can you tell me about the manI am to meet?”

“That he is wealthy and well-respected among his peers. And
that you will be absolutely safe in his company.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.” The woman gazed at Sakura steadily, no hint of
deception in her eyes. “I have known him for quite some time. Despite his
reputation as a stern master he does have a compassionate side.”

Sakura snorted. “I haven’t seen that side of him.”

“Is it his compassion you desire?” Manette’s voice held a
note of surprise. “He does not show that side of himself to many. You will have
to earn his trust.”

For an instant Sakura entertained the possibility of a more
permanent relationship with the stranger. Then she remembered Ian’s much more
pleasant personality and let the notion go. While it might be fascinating to
have an affair with such an intense and domineering man, she doubted she could
live with him forever.

But she would revel in every whimper and squeal and scream
for as long as she could stand the pleasure.

“Right now all I want is his darker side,” she admitted
truthfully.

Manette’s expression tempered. “Then that is what you shall
have. And he is magnificent in his domination. You will be well pleased. Of
that I am certain.” Now the woman’s expression radiated wicked excitement,
causing Sakura to feel a rush of the same depraved energy.

“Then I guess I better get started.” Still, her knees were
shaking as she stood and smoothed down the front of her plain black dress,
wondering if she should have worn something more provocative, or added
something sexy underneath besides a lacy black thong and stockings. Her breasts
weren’t big enough to warrant a bra although she had considered padding her
assets for the occasion. Not that it would matter once he’d seen her naked. She
had very few womanly curves to speak of and there was no way she could hide
that fact from anyone. Nor was she truly tempted to try. If the
Bakushi
hadn’t found her attractive at their last meeting he wouldn’t have wanted to
meet her again. She had to assume he liked what he’d felt—and he’d felt most
everything, she remembered with a blush.

Madame Brisson frowned as if she’d read Sakura’s thoughts
when she’d lapsed into introspective silence. “We women come in all shapes and
sizes,
ma cherie
. You must trust that yours will be just what he
desires.”

“I do.”

“Good.” Manette stood and shooed the cat from her lap who
gave them both a petulant meow as he hit the floor and turned his back to lick
one elegant paw. Then Manette bent and retrieved Sakura’s mask, running her
fingers over the cascade of silk cherry blossoms.

Taking a breath for courage, Sakura turned and let the other
woman fit the mask against her face, tying the laces in place beneath her hair.

“Excellent,” Manette said, adjusting the fit with a final
twist of her fingers. “Are you ready?” Again that hint of mischief in her eyes.

“You enjoy this, don’t you?”

Sakura was startled when the other woman laughed, throwing
back her head in decided amusement. “But of course I do. No woman who comes
here ever leaves the same. She grows. She evolves. Sometimes she even falls in
love. What is more wonderful than that? But no more questions from you. The
time is slipping fast away and we don’t want you punished for being late on
your very first night.” With a shake of her head she took Sakura’s hand and led
her down a flight of stairs and along a richly carpeted hall before depositing
her in front of a black lacquered door. “Good night,” she said, reaching out to
knock twice. Then she opened the door and pushed Sakura through before closing
it tightly behind her.

He was kneeling in the center of the room utterly still in a
dark-blue kimono, his hands resting on his thighs, his head bowed in formal
tradition. He didn’t say a word in greeting, just pointed to a spot by his
side, but he grunted in warning as she took two steps across the floor, her
heels clicking on the polished wood.

Her first mistake already. Sakura removed her shoes and
placed them neatly by the door. She was in his world now, traditional Japan in
all its male-dominated glory, and she would have to play by his rules if she
wanted to remain. She studied him from beneath her lashes as she moved to kneel
beside him, trying to see any expression on his face as he finally raised his
head.


Youkoso
, welcome.” He placed both hands on the floor
in front of him and bowed until his mask nearly touched the surface.

Sakura copied the movement, gritting her teeth against the
discomfort of the straw
tatami
mat beneath her knees. She shifted trying
to make herself more comfortable but froze when he whipped his head up, his
lips turning down in displeasure.

“You will not move until I give you permission,” he said,
his voice every bit as intimidating as his demeanor. “To perform the ceremony
properly you must learn to disregard your personal comfort for the comfort of
your guests.”


Hai
,” she said, stiffening her spine. If he thought
she’d break so easily, he had another think coming. She’d spent years remaining
still and silent at her father’s order, and although she hated it with a
passion, she could sit
seiza
with the best of them.

And she was intrigued enough by the setting to take her mind
off the pain. In the middle of the mat was a large iron pot set on a hotplate,
a cloth napkin, two beautiful ceramic bowls, another pot off to the side and
several bamboo utensils.

“What are those?” She reached out to pick up one of the
utensils, stopping short when his hand landed hard against her thigh. “
Ow
,”
she protested, blinking back a sting of tears.

“Do you wish to learn the Tea Ceremony or do you wish to
spend the night with your lovely ass bent over my lap turning red beneath my
palms?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” She smoothed her hand over
her thigh to ease the sting, noting the way his mouth twisted up in
anticipation at one corner.

“Very much,” he answered benignly. “I intend to teach you
some discipline one way or another.”

“The Tea Ceremony, please.”

To still the shaking of her fingers Sakura clamped them down
on top of each thigh, swearing she wouldn’t move them a millimeter until he
practically begged her to.


Hai
.” He jerked his head in satisfaction. “First I
will perform the ceremony so you can watch. And it is as much about stillness
as anything else. Shut off that flittering mind of yours and observe.
Experience. Appreciate the stillness that comes with the ritual.”

“Is that why you like to tie women up? So they can
appreciate stillness?” Sakura sucked in a horrified breath after she’d spit out
the questions without thinking.

But to her surprise he answered her calmly. “That is why I
promise to bind you,
keisei
. To force you to fully appreciate your pleasure.”

“I already appreciate my pleasure.”

When he grunted in exasperation she knew she was beginning
to push her luck. “You do not understand a thing about pleasure. But I will
teach you, even if I have to gag you as well. Is that what you need?” He lifted
a hand and smoothed it along her hair. “Me to force you into silence?”

That thought did amazing things to her body. Her nipples
puckered, her stomach flipped—and her sex throbbed with a need that left her
speechless.

“Or I could think of another way to keep your gorgeous mouth
occupied.” He ran his thumb across her mouth, pressing it through her lips and
working it between her teeth until he had pried her jaw apart. She whimpered
when he invaded her mouth, aroused already to the point where she was forced to
press her legs together. “I can take my pleasure both now and later.”

Sakura could not keep her eyes from his face as his other
hand reached down and untied the belt to his robe before he shrugged it from
his shoulders. His thumb pushed deeper into her mouth, pressing down to force
her jaw open even more.

“I have longed to feel your lips wrapped around my cock,
keisei
.
Dreamed of it a hundred times since our last encounter. In fact, I think I need
to have you suck me now as punishment for your constant jabbering.” He rose to
stand before her, removing his thumb from her mouth as he grabbed a fistful of
her hair and pulled her up on her knees, his other hand fisting the width of
his erection.

If this was punishment, Sakura thought in defiance, bring it
on! She wanted to taste him. Suck him. Run her tongue the length of his
magnificent flesh. Then she wanted him to do the same to her in full and equal
measure. She hungered for anything he would give her, and if it was her mouth
around his cock he wanted, her mouth around his cock was what he would get. If
some secret part of her noted how complacent she was on her knees before him,
she imprisoned it where it could not be heard, her need to please him much too
strong to worry about something as insignificant as self-respect.

* * * * *

Ian had been aching to have her on her knees between his
legs since the first night they had met. While he admired her intelligence and
interest in everything, he’d had enough of her questioning his every move. It
was time she learned he was master, and he could think of no better way than to
have her give him pleasure while postponing her own.

At least for now.

Besides, he needed the tension release or he was liable to
toss her facedown on his bed and take her without any attempt at control—which
would do neither of them any good whatsoever.

He tugged her hair and lifted her face to his, watching as
she ran her tongue along her lower lip. His dick grew another inch when she
took that lip between her teeth and chewed on it nervously.

“Clasp your hands behind your back,” he ordered, taking her
head in his hands and dragging her toward his erection, his need growing to a
painful state as she opened her mouth and let him slip his flesh inside.

He held her steady as he slid into her throat, deeper than
he’d intended, pulling out when he felt her gag reflex kick in. “Relax your
throat and take all of me,” he told her before thrusting his hips forward once
more. This time he drove in farther, hitting the back of her throat as she moaned
around his flesh, feeling the vibration all the way to his balls. He thrust
once more but she was still not experienced enough to suck him down to the
root.

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