Bound to be Dirty (15 page)

She leaned forward, catching his cock between her soft, full breasts. With one hand she held him there, squeezing her breasts together to hug his organ. He groaned at the sweet, tantalizing contact.

She cupped his balls, rolled them gently. “So hard, everything's so hard and full and—”

“Fuck.” That was it, he couldn't hold it any longer. Whatever she'd intended to say or do, it was too late. He pumped between her breasts, the soft friction of her hand and the sides of her breasts caressing his shaft. The orgasm he'd been fighting to control roared through him and he exploded in long, hard jerks, spurting across her chest and the tops of her breasts.

The force of his climax turned his legs to jelly and he barely managed to stay on his feet. Embarrassed by his lack of control, he pulled away. “Sorry. That was just too damned hot.”

She touched her chest, dabbing a fingertip in his come, and lifted her hand to her mouth. She sucked her finger then, finally, gazed up at him. “It was. Very hot.”

“Could the prisoner be released now?” Deliberately, he didn't add “officer.” It seemed to him the sex game was over, but if she had a different idea, she'd let him know.

“I'd say he's earned it.”

He turned and she fumbled with the bungee cord. “This is tight. I can't get it unhooked.”

“Well, I can't help,” he said dryly. “And it'll be embarrassing if we have to ask a neighbor.”

“Very true.” There was humor in her voice. She struggled harder, the cord digging into his wrists, then suddenly he was free and she said, “Whew.”

He shook out his hands, arms, and shoulders gratefully. “You can say that again. Weird enough that those two guys saw us in the parking lot.” He sank down beside her. “I can't believe you did that, Lily.”

She slanted him a glance. “Not so predictable after all?”

“That's for sure.” He eyed the come dripping between her breasts. “Want a shower? Or bath?”

She gave a slow, lazy smile. “I'd rather just go to bed.” She spread his fluid over her breasts and chest, smoothing it into her skin. She'd once told him that semen contained protein, which was good for the skin. It had been years since he'd seen her do this, but then it had been years since he'd spilled anywhere other than in her pussy or mouth.

“Contact lenses,” she said, and slipped off the bed.

He turned down the duvet and top sheet and climbed in.

A couple of minutes later she slid in to her side, then met him in the middle for a gentle kiss. “Night, Dax.” She rolled onto her side away from him, into her normal sleeping position.

“Night.” Mischief made him add, “Officer,” as he spooned her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

A quiet chuckle shook her, and her hand settled atop his.

Fifteen

W
ednesday afternoon, when Lily went to reception to ask Jennifer to book an ultrasound for the patient she'd just examined, the receptionist said, “Dr. Nyland, your sister-in-law's on the phone, holding for you. Line three.”

“Thanks.” Heart racing, Lily hurried past a handful of waiting patients, including a couple of toddlers playing around the artificial, child-friendly Christmas tree. It wasn't like Regina to call at work. What was wrong? She shoved the Zen garden out of the way—why did someone keep moving it to the center of her desk?—and grabbed up the phone. “Regina? Is something wrong with Sophia?”

“No, no, she's fine. I'm sorry to bother you, and I hate to ask this.” Her normally poised voice sounded frazzled. “Our babysitter's come down with the flu and—”

“You want me to babysit tonight?” Lily made quick calculations. She had eight patients to see before the end of the day.

“I wouldn't ask, not with Dax home for Christmas, but my parents just left for the Caribbean and yours have plans. It's a holiday party being thrown by one of my biggest clients, so I can't bail. Anthony could stay home, but—”

“Regina, it's fine. You know I adore Sophia. What time do you need me?”

“Would six thirty work?”

“That's fine. I'll be there.”

“I really appreciate this. Lily, bring Dax if you want. Sophia likes him.”

“Uh . . .” Would Dax want to babysit an infant? Did she want to try on the roles of mom and dad when their future as husband and wife was still unresolved? “We'll see. How late are you likely to be?”

“Well, it's a dinner dance, so . . .”

“Could be late. No problem. See you at six thirty.”

Now running late for her next patient, she called Dax's smartphone, planning to leave voice mail. But he answered.

“You're not flying this afternoon?”

“Came in from one flight and we're fueling up for another. You got my message?”

“No, I haven't checked my phone since noon.”

“This guy I flew with in the army is in town for a couple of days and wants to get together for a drink. I didn't know if you had plans for tonight.” The previous night had been quiet. Rather than stay at the clinic, she'd brought her work home, doing online research on treatment options for one of her patients while Dax read.

“Regina just called. Their babysitter cancelled and they're desperate, so I said I'd help out.”

“Oh, sure. So you won't mind if I go out with Hank?”

“No, of course not.” She pressed her lips together. Should she invite him to come babysit? No. How often did he get a chance to catch up with an army buddy? “Have fun.”

* * *

W
ow, look at you,” Lily said to Regina, who'd answered the door. Her sister-in-law was svelte in a gorgeous black evening dress and four-inch heeled sandals, her strawberry blond hair pulled back from her face with sparkly clips that matched her earrings and necklace. “You look fabulous.”

Regina glanced down at herself. “I know, right? I barely recognize myself now that I've lost the pregnancy weight.” She leaned forward to touch Lily's shoulder and air-kiss her cheek with shiny red lips. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

“I'm always happy to spend time with my niece.” Even if it made her biological clock tick faster. “Speaking of whom, where is she?”

Regina called, “Anthony? Lily's here.” Then she muttered, “Where's my evening purse? I put it down somewhere. I swear, having a baby changes everything. Life was so organized before she came along, and now I'm a disaster.”

“You're not a disaster,” Lily's brother said, coming down the stairs. He wore a beautifully tailored black suit, a dove gray shirt, and a black-and-silver striped tie. Five-month-old Sophia rode on one arm like the princess she was. “You're perfect, Regina. Not to mention gorgeous.” He came over to Lily. “Hi sis. Thanks for helping us out on such short notice.”

“Not a problem.” Lily pecked him on the cheek then peered more closely at his tie. “Hate to tell you, but you have”—she wrinkled her nose—“something undesirable on your tie.”

“Oh, man.” He squinted down at it then shook his head at the baby. “What have you done to me now, my girl? Regina, you take her. I'll go change my tie.” He made to hand off the baby to his wife.

Lily intercepted the move and scooped Sophia into her arms. “Best not let you near that beautiful dress. And speaking of beautiful . . .” She buried her face in silky blond curls and inhaled the sweet scent of baby shampoo, milk, and Sophia.

Regina slipped into a black evening wrap and eyed them enviously. “I'd rather stay home with her than go to this party.”

“Are you sorry you didn't take a longer maternity leave?”

“Yes and no. I love my job and I'm close to making partner. But when I'm with her, I don't want to be anywhere else.”

“She does have that effect.”

Anthony hurried downstairs again and he and Regina bestowed final kisses on their daughter and headed off.

When the door closed, Lily hugged the baby. “Just us now. How shall we spend our evening, precious?” Sophia was an easy child, happy to eat, play, crawl around exploring.

They did all of that until her niece tired, then Lily tucked her in, noticing that the butterfly mobile she'd given Sophia for Christmas hung above her crib. After checking the baby monitor, Lily went downstairs and settled on the couch. Opening her tote, she deliberated between computer and Kindle. She should work, but instead she decided to take this alone time to read.

Would she relate any better to BDSM now, after playing the cop dom? It had started as a challenge she'd set herself and had morphed into awkwardness, but then she'd felt an exhilarating and, yes, titillating sense of power.
And
a thrill that strong, utterly masculine Dax, had played along.

She picked up
Bound by Desire
where she'd left off, with Cassandra in a collar and leash, getting turned on by being paddled and spanked. Neville played her with his fingers, telling her not to climax. Finally he ordered her to, and her orgasm was instantaneous and powerful. Then, with her still on her hands and knees, leashed to a chair, he fucked her from behind. Again she came, several times, with the intensity she'd longed for.

Cassandra felt like melted wax, soft and warm and boneless. Oh yes, she'd been right about Neville. He'd given her the best sex of her life, better than she'd ever imagined.

When he pulled out and rose, she shuffled forward to ease the tension created by the leash and collar and slumped to the rug. Curled on her side, she was totally blissed out.

“Pet?” His voice was harsh. “I didn't tell you to move.”

Sexy as the man was, her body couldn't handle any more orgasms right now. Besides, she had an early meeting and needed to catch two or three hours' sleep. Pretending meekness, she said, “I'm sorry, master. My arms and legs gave out.”

“Ah. I see.” His tone was more neutral than affectionate, but then their relationship was about sex, not caring. “Would it be correct to assume you'd like me to remove your collar?”

Glad that he got the picture, she said, “Yes, please, Master.” Did he still expect her to use that term, or were the rules no longer in effect now that the sex was over?

He stood above her, naked. It was the first time she'd seen him, as he'd been behind her when they fucked and she hadn't been able to turn her head. God, he was powerful, and so beautifully muscled. He bent down and, with a quick move, undid the clasp on the collar.

It dropped free and her neck felt bare, exposed. Vulnerable. What a strange thought. She flicked it away and summoned the energy to stand. “That was amazing. I need to go to my room and catch a little sleep. I have an early meeting, and it'll last all day. But I'll be at the hotel tomorrow night. How about you?”

He turned his back and started to dress. “I think not.”

“You don't think you'll be here?”

He didn't answer.

“Neville?”

After a long minute, he faced her. He was fully dressed, his expression impersonal. “We won't see each other again.”

“But . . .” Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you didn't like the sex?” No man had ever complained about her performance as a lover.

“For a while. But in the end, you didn't please me, Cassandra.”

“What?” She fisted her hands at her hips and glared at him. “I did everything you told me to. I even wore a fucking dog collar, Neville! And you climaxed. What the hell do you mean, I didn't please you?”

His expression softened with what looked like regret. “I hoped you would learn, but you still deny your true nature.”

“I called you master. I let you paddle me. I played your game.” She'd given him more—far more—than she'd ever given another man.

He shook his head. “But it's not a game. It's our true nature. Our sexual being. I'm a dominant and you're a submissive. When you deny that, you cheat both of us.”

She hugged her arms across her breasts. “All right, so a little pain adds an edge that turns me on and makes the orgasms stronger. I admit that.” It was kind of freaky, but she could live with it.

He gathered his paraphernalia: leash, collar, paddle. “There's so much more to being a submissive. That's why I made you wear the collar and leash. To see how you reacted.”

“I don't understand.”

“If you were truly my pet, I would own you. These”—he held up the collar and leash—“symbolize that.”

“Own me?” She huffed. “What century do you live in? People don't
own
people these days. And if they try to, they'll be thrown in jail.”

“Not if the pet chooses it.” He tucked everything back into his bag and zipped it.

“At first when you called me ‘pet,' I thought it was an endearment. Now that I know how you mean it, it's offensive.”

“It shouldn't be.” He came toward her and stood a couple of feet away, not touching her. “It expresses the relationship. An owner cares for his pet in all ways. It is a dom's duty and pleasure to look after his sub's well-being and pleasure. It is her duty and pleasure to trust him utterly, to serve his pleasure, and to trust that he will care for her and provide what she needs.”

“Like a good paddling?” she taunted. “I'm sure every good doggy loves that.”

His jade eyes stared intently into hers. “You did.”

“As a sex game! That's all.” Ooh! She wasn't some sex slave out of the dark ages. Infuriated, she whirled and stalked to the bathroom to dress. No, she'd certainly never be seeing that male chauvinist pig again!

That was where the chapter ended. Lily closed her Kindle and went upstairs to check on Sophia. The baby was sleeping peacefully, looking so sweet and innocent, such a contrast to
Bound by Desire
. Lily leaned over the crib to press a kiss to her niece's forehead, then headed down to the kitchen, where she made a cup of Earl Grey tea and took a couple of raisin oatmeal cookies from a package on the counter. Snack in hand, she returned to the living room and turned to the next chapter.

Six months later . . .

More nervous than she'd ever been, Cassandra listened as the phone rang. Once . . . Was Neville in his room? She'd located him via the Internet and phoned his assistant on a business pretext, finding out where he was. And she'd come. Now she sat, bundled in a hotel robe after a long shower and grooming session, in the chair by the desk in her room.

Two . . . Her crossed leg bounced uncontrollably. He had to be there. He had to be alone. He had to want to see her. In six months, no man had compared to Neville. No sex had satisfied her. When she'd climaxed, it was a hiccup, not an explosion.

Three . . . Damn it, she needed him. She, who'd never needed a man in her life, who'd never imagined being subordinate to one, had come crawling back. Well, no, that wasn't exactly correct. She—

“Neville Winter.”

That deep, rich voice sent ripples of desire throughout her, combining with the flutters of anxiety. Trying to steady her voice, she said, “Neville, this is Cassandra Knightley.” Would he even remember her?

“Cassandra. Hello, pet. It's been six months. You're more stubborn than I thought you'd be.”

He'd expected her to come back? Not knowing what to think of that, she said, “We only spent a couple of hours together, but I can't forget them.”

“You want more. You need more.”

Oh yes! More of that push-the-bounds sex, for sure. What she hadn't yet figured out was exactly what she was willing to do—what he'd try to make her do—in order to get it. “I'm staying at the same hotel. Let's—” She was about to say, “Let's get together,” then realized he would want it phrased differently. “May I come see you, master?”

“You may, pet. First, take off everything but your panties and shoes. High-heeled shoes, of course. Then put on your coat and come to my room.”

Parade through this elegant hotel all but naked under her coat? This was a test. One that made her wet. “Yes, master.”

He gave her his room number and hung up.

She pulled on her sexiest black lace thong and highest-heeled black sandals, and checked her hair and makeup. Because it was summer, the only coat she'd brought on this trip was a lightweight trench coat that barely came to mid thigh. She buttoned and belted it.