Unconditional Surrender (3 page)

Too bad
he
wouldn’t be there.

Kari leant back against the tub pillow and closed her eyes.

“Are you comfortable?”

Comfortable? She was trussed up like a turkey, hands cuffed behind her back, on her knees before him, a spreader bar separating her ankles with steel cuffs locked around them. Yet surprisingly she wasn’t
un
comfortable. Instead she was so stimulated
that the pulse in her cunt throbbed and she ached with unfulfilled need.

She wet her lips and nodded. “Yes, Sir.” Good. She’d remembered the honorific. Who knew there was so much to know in D/s play?

“Very good.” He smiled down at her, white teeth flashing in his tanned face. “You are an excellent student.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Now what? His long, thick cock was at eye level, so swollen the head was a dark purple and a tiny bead of fluid sat at its slit.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded.

Kari opened as wide as she could, a shivery sensation racing through her as he placed his cock on her lower lip and slid it slowly onto the surface of her tongue. She closed her lips around him, his girth stretching them with its thickness. His taste was all male, musky and hot. She moved her tongue against him as much as she could within the space available and when she looked up at him his lips curved in an erotic smile.

“I want you to suck me.” His voice was thick and husky. “But do not make me come. If you are very, very good, I will come in your pussy and allow you to experience a powerful orgasm.”

Her pulse accelerated at the thought. To feel that thick cock inside her, plunging into her…

Water splashed in her face, waking her from her fantasy, and Kari realised she’d almost slipped beneath the surface of the bathwater. But, Lord, dreaming about her ghost warrior wiped everything else from her mind. And a warrior was what he was, indeed. His body might have been carved from rock, as hard and lean as it was. A thin white scar ran from his left shoulder to the nipple, while below his ribcage on the right were two round scars that she was sure had come from bullets. His entire demeanour spoke of the total alpha male, someone in control at all times. She wondered what it would be like to get beneath the surface. To shred that control. To…

Kari gave herself a mental shake. She might as well stop dreaming about it. The chances she’d ever see her phantom again were slim to none. She wanted to make sure she enjoyed the evening ahead so she’d better concentrate on the here and now instead of the once and gone.

She didn’t know if it was the thrill of winning a tough case in court or the satisfaction of a job well done, but a tiny kick of excited anticipation danced through her system. As if something special was waiting for her. She certainly hoped so. She was tired of lusting after a man she’d never see again.

She desperately wanted a man who could respect her for the person she was in public as well as in her role as a submissive. A man who could fill the empty spaces in her life. She’d watched the men and women she worked with find happiness with others and had to tamp down the little spears of jealousy. She wanted what they had but no one had come along who appealed to her that way.

Except her phantom.

So tonight she’d made up her mind to banish him from her thoughts and go hunting. She dressed with extra care, taking her time selecting her outfit. In her short leather skirt and matching bustier with her skyscraper heels, she knew she presented an appetising picture. Makeup was carefully applied, exotic scent sprayed in the right places. Finally she added the rhinestone-encrusted clip in the design of a butterfly that she used to hold her hair back on one side. It had given her the name she used at the club—Butterfly. Many people used aliases at the private clubs—most of them, like Kari, to keep a wall between their personal and private lives. As a criminal prosecutor she was aware of how closely she had to guard her image and reputation.

She was ready. Oh, yeah.

Look out, world. Here I come.

At The Edge she gave her car to the valet, mounted the two short steps to the entrance and opened the carved wooden door.

“Good evening,” Bruno, the doorman, greeted her. “Nice to see you again. We’ve missed you.”

“It hasn’t been that long, has it?” At least she didn’t think it had.

Bruno flashed a grin at her. “Maybe it just seems that way. We always like seeing you here. Especially since you’re so much in demand.”

Kari knew what he said was true. After the session with her elusive stranger, she’d applied for membership at The Edge and been accepted. An experienced Dom had been assigned as her trainer and he’d done a good job, showing her how to both give and receive maximum pleasure. Now she carefully chose the men that she interacted with and they were always pleased. But always afterwards, once back in her car, the enticement, the allure was gone. No one touched her the way her lost warrior did.

The lounge area was full, almost every seat taken. Some people were engaged in relaxed conversation, others in the first phase of introduction to the evening’s play. Still others had already begun to explore their pleasure. Soon they would either move to a public room to perform for others or to a private room if exhibitionism wasn’t their thing. It wasn’t Kari’s. Performance wasn’t her thing, although she’d come to realise that voyeurism excited her.

She finally found a tiny table wedged in a corner and took a seat with her back to most of the room. She wanted a few moments to collect herself before she put on her game face and looked over who was available. Or maybe one of her regulars would have spotted her by then. When the waiter approached, she ordered her usual—club soda with a twist of lime. The Edge had a two-drink limit, but tonight she had a nice buzz going without it.

“I see you haven’t changed your drink preference since I last saw you.”

The deep voice, still familiar after all this time, jolted her like a bolt of lightning. A lean, tanned hand set her drink on the table in front of her and then he was sitting across from her in the other chair. She stared at him, his face showing slight signs of having aged—deeper lines at the eyes and the corners of his mouth—but was otherwise still the same one that haunted her dreams.

She wet her lips. “I… You… That is…”

“Yeah. Me, too.” He grinned and the heat washing through her nearly melted her panties.

“W-Where did you come from? I mean… No, wait.” She took a healthy swallow of her drink while she tried to pull together her scattered thoughts. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“I know.” He studied her face, maybe seeking any changes as she had with him. “I was just as stunned to see you sitting here. I had to look twice to make sure it was you.”

“It’s me.”
God, could I sound any more inane? Stupid?

Silence stretched between them, heavy with sexual memories.

“Are you a guest here tonight?” he asked at last.

Kari shook her head. “I’m a member.” Her laugh was shaky. “I live in San Antonio. After…that night in Chicago I…thought I might pursue this a little further.”

He leant forward, arms folded and resting on the small tabletop. “So I’m assuming you decided you really liked it. That the things we…started gave you a taste you enjoyed.”

She nodded and sipped her drink, unable to tear her gaze away from his. “And you?” she asked. “Are you visiting here?”

He shook his head and one corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin. “I live in the area. This is my home club.”

Kari was startled. “It is? I wonder why we’ve never run into each other before? I mean, in all this time…”

For five years.

His faced sobered. “I’m…away a lot. For long periods of time.”

“Oh.” She didn’t know what else to say. He obviously wasn’t sharing anything about where he went or why. She didn’t even know his name. They hadn’t exchanged identities during that one intense evening. She had simply called him Sir and he’d referred to her as ‘girl’.

His gaze drifted to the clip in her hair. “Nice. It suits you.”

“Thanks you.” She gave him a tiny smile. “It’s my name here. Butterfly.”

He reached across the table and slid one warm, calloused palm over her hand, his lean fingers closing around her wrist.

“I’d like you to be with me tonight, Butterfly.”

She nodded again.

“Is that a yes? I want to hear you say the words.”

Kari let out a soft sigh. Butterflies—her namesakes—were doing the two-step in her stomach and the pulse in her cunt was beating hard enough to keep time with them.

“Yes, Sir. I would like that.”

“Good.” He rose and urged her up from her seat. “Let’s go, then.”

She followed him down the short hallway to the private rooms, anticipation washing through her like a tidal wave. One thought etched itself on her brain.

At last!

Chapter Three

Slade closed the door and listened to the lock snick softly into place. He was still trying to conceal his shock that the woman who had haunted him for five years had suddenly appeared at The Edge.

And that she was a member!

Jesus!

Obviously the introduction he’d given her into BDSM had taken hold. And grown. His long absences prevented him from visiting the club as often as he wanted to. Now he wondered if he might have run into her before this. So much time wasted. But at least she was here now, and the images of what the evening would hold ran through his mind and straight to his cock.

The one time they’d been together he’d simply referred to her as ‘girl’. Should he ask her for her name? What if she preferred the anonymity of the generic term? Should he use Butterfly now? What if tonight turned out to be a bust?

Shit, Donovan. Get it together. You aren’t twenty-five years old anymore.

In fact, he prided himself on being the ultimate Dom—always in full control of both himself and his sub. He might unleash his sexual needs but never his emotions. Was it the sudden desire for something more permanent in life that was doing this to him? Had he subconsciously wondered all these years if this woman might be the answer? One thing was absolutely clear to him—looking at her, the memory of the dirt and grime and cold of Afghanistan, the tension of the missions, faded away completely as if a healing shower had washed over him.

Get on with it. The evening won’t last forever.

Besides, he had a deadline. Which he probably wouldn’t have agreed to if he’d known he was going to find
her
here. But they’d all arrived from the ranch in one vehicle, the large black SUV. After he’d taken care of getting guest passes for the others they’d agreed to meet in the parking lot no later than one o’clock. If someone didn’t get lucky…well…he could just hang out and watch the performances in the public rooms.

Slade deliberately ignored Butterfly—what an appropriate name—and left her standing near the door while he lit the candles he liked to use to set the atmosphere. He found the scent of sandalwood to be both seductive and arousing. He checked to see if the items he’d requested were set out on the table then adjusted the lighting, dimming everything but one spotlight against the wall. Finally he turned and let his eyes drink their fill of her.

Rich masses of auburn hair cascaded down to her smooth shoulder, calling attention to the leather bustier that barely contained the swell of her round, creamy breasts and showed off her waist. A leather mini-skirt flared over the swell of her hips and legs that he wanted to feel wrapped around him extended down to graceful feet shod in fuck-me pumps with very high heels.

Time to get on with it.

“It’s unsafe to assume anything in this life,” he told her, “so I’m going to ask. Have you played in this life a lot since…after our time together?”

“Yes, Sir.” A tiny smile flirted with her lips. “And I enjoy it.”

Slade’s cock flexed behind the silk fabric of his pants. “Excellent. And your safe word? Is it still the same?”

She nodded. “Cupcake.”

He swallowed a smile. “I didn’t ask you at the time but why that word? It’s different than the usual words women choose.”

She hesitated for a moment. “I just wanted something very different from my everyday life.”

He could have taken that as an opening to ask her more—and he really
did
want to know more about her—but right now parts of his body other than his mind were sending him urgent messages.

“Fine. Good.” He studied her for another long moment. “Strip. And do it slowly.”

She didn’t seem deterred by the order. Instead she nodded and began to slowly unlace the bustier. As the leather thongs came loose and the fabric parted, her breasts became more visible. Finally the material separated completely and those luscious mounds sprang free. She dropped the garment to the floor and reached for the side zipper on her skirt.

“Stop,” he ordered.

She stared at him, a puzzled frown creasing her forehead.

“Cup your breasts and rub your thumbs over your nipples. Yes, like that,” he confirmed when she did as he asked.

God, the sight of her touching herself had his cock hardening even more, if that was possible. The ache in his balls was growing and they had hardly even started.

“All right. That’s enough. Finish taking off the skirt. I hope you didn’t wear panties tonight.”

When the skirt skid to the floor and he saw that he’d got his wish, he nearly swallowed his tongue. Nicely rounded hips flared and tapered down to solid thighs. But it was the carefully waxed mound, with its two narrow strips of pubic hair pointing like arrows to the opening of her pussy, that made him want to lay her out and fuck her until neither of them could breathe. How out of control would he be when they’d played their games to raise the level of both pleasure and anticipation?

Some might think her body less than perfect but for Slade—now, as it had been four years ago—it was exactly what he wanted…full and soft and way too tempting. He restrained himself from unzipping his fly and reaching in to grab his shaft.