You Are Mine (36 page)

The heat of his hard, flat stomach was right there, she could feel it nearly touching the backs of her fingers. For some reason the button was next to impossible to undo and she fumbled.

Zac closed his fist around her hair and she froze, breathing hard, shivering as his fingers brushed the back of her neck.

Of course he wouldn't play fair. She should have expected it.

“You're doing very well.” The fist in her hair tightened. “Too well. I did warn you I wouldn't make it easy for you.”

She moistened her dry mouth, focused hard on the button and not on the feel of his hand in her hair. It came undone at last and she was able to grab the tab of his zipper, drawing it slowly down. Her knuckles brushed the hardening length of his cock through the fabric, his hand tugging hard on her hair as she did so.

“You're pushing,” he murmured. “Be careful of doing that, sweetheart. You've already got seven punishments. You don't want any more.”

A thrill went through her, though she couldn't understand why. She wanted to pull against his hold. Make him tug harder for some reason.

Well, there wasn't any reason not to. As long as she didn't touch his skin. And God, if he was going to tease her like this, then she'd pay him back in kind.

As the fabric loosened on his hips, she drew down on the material, accidentally on purpose brushing her fingers down the length of his cock again. There was only the thin black cotton of his boxers separating her from his bare skin, but given the heat coming off him, he may as well have been wearing nothing at all.

“Oh, angel,” he breathed as she sank down on her knees again, pulling his pants down his powerful thighs. “You do like to test the boundaries.”

Abruptly she gasped as she felt him wind her hair around his wrist, drawing it tight. Little prickles of pain bloomed over her scalp, making the ache between her thighs more intense. How strange that pain could do that to her. To make her want more.

“I did what you s-said,” she forced out, her voice all breathless and stuttery. “I didn't touch your skin.”

He laughed, soft and dark, and she wanted to touch him again, turn that laugh into a gasp the way he kept doing to her. “You should have been a lawyer. Just for that, I'll take my boxers off myself.”

A surge of anger went through her. No, he couldn't take that away from her, not when she'd so nearly managed to do what he'd asked and successfully too.

“No,” she said before she could stop herself. “I mean … I've nearly finished. Let me do it. Please.”

He was silent, the hand in her hair still tight.

She kept her gaze to the floor. If he wanted her fucking submissive, then she'd damn well be submissive. There was power in it, as she was beginning to discover.

“Apologize,” he said, his voice hard. “Tell me how sorry you are for not doing what you're told.” And he pulled her hair again. Hard.

Pleasure and pain twined around her, forcing another strangled gasp from her. “I'm sorry,” she managed raggedly. “I'm sorry I didn't do what you said. I'll … be better next time.”

“Don't touch my cock.” His tone was absolute. “You can't have that yet. You have to earn it, remember?”

“I r-remember. And I won't t-touch it. I promise.”

The tension in her hair released as Zac let her go. “All right. Now finish undressing me.”

She swallowed. How the hell did he do that? Make her desperate to finish the simple task of taking off his boxers? Make her want to be equal to it? Show him she could do it?

Eva lifted her hands, taking the soft cotton between her fingers and drawing it down. She didn't look as she uncovered him, knowing she wouldn't be able to concentrate if she did. Her face heated as she pulled the black fabric down to his ankles, waiting as he stepped out of it.

He was naked now and she'd never seen a naked man in the flesh before.

Not even The Man.

And yes, he would stay “The Man,” not “Fitzgerald.” She wouldn't dignify him with his name.

That small decision eased the flick of memory and when Zac's fingers slid back into her hair, not hard this time, the tips massaging her aching scalp, she nearly groaned.

“Have you ever sucked a man's cock, angel?” he asked softly.

She kept her gaze on the floor, the slight pain dissipating under the aching pleasure of his fingers. “I did at the house—”

“I said ‘a man.' Not that pathetic excuse for one.”

Only a few words, yet they eased the memory of what had gone on in that house even further. How did he do that? Was he magic?

“No,” she whispered, silently letting go of those particular memories. “I never have.”

“You will tonight. But it's a privilege so you'll have to beg for it.” The tips of his fingers pressed a little harder, soothing all the knots and painful places on her scalp. She moaned softly at the pleasure of it. “I'm sure you can do that as prettily as you've done everything else so far.”

She nearly forgot herself then. Nearly leaned against his legs, relaxing against him. Only catching herself at the last minute.

He was right. This was a punishment. The fucking bastard.

He tugged her hair gently. “Up.”

She rose reluctantly and this time couldn't help herself, glancing down his naked body.

Her cheeks heated.

Jesus Christ, she never thought a man's cock could be beautiful, but his was. Long and thick and hard, brushing against the flat plane of his abdomen.

And she was glad, all of a sudden, that she'd been blindfolded before with Fitzgerald. That Zac was the first man she'd seen naked in the flesh.

He'll be the only one.

The realization was as certain and inevitable as night falling.

She wouldn't ever be able to be naked like this with anyone else. Wouldn't want anyone else touching her or being inside her. Wouldn't be able to stand anyone else's kiss or even bear to have their arms around her.

There would only and forever be Zac.

He was the only one she trusted enough. The only one she wanted enough.

She looked up at him reflexively and felt the impact of that amber gaze go through her like a sword thrust to the heart.

“I can't do this with anyone but you,” she said, the words coming out before she could stop them. “Only ever you, Zac.”

Molten gold leapt in his gaze for a second, a flickering passionate response, then it was gone. But the embers remained, glowing hot.

“Get on the bed,” he said.

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Zac watched as Eva turned around and got up on the bed behind her, moving with that innate grace that was part of her. She was so small, seemingly so fragile.

Yet, just now, she'd been strong enough to open up his chest and pull out his heart.

Only ever you, Zac.

He hadn't realized how badly he'd wanted to hear those words until right now. Until she'd said them, her voice husky and cracked.

Ah, but he couldn't let himself think about those words or ascribe meaning to them. Give them weight. He knew the dangers of wanting too much. He'd spent his childhood wanting what he couldn't have and his adulthood trying to get rid of those wants. Only to fall back into the trap the moment Eva King had stepped out from under a streetlight wearing only a man's overcoat to cover herself.

Small and pale. With eyes the color of cold steel.

His Void Angel. The hacker he'd been chasing for months.

He'd known in that moment that he was in for the fight of his life. A battle against the dragon inside him that wanted her for its hoard. But the dragon couldn't have her, not with those bruises on her neck, the shards of agony in her gaze.

Things are different now. She's strong enough.

Yes, she was. But he was starting to think that perhaps he wasn't. That he was the one who was weak.

That ever-present anger turned over inside him, howling at her and the hunger she'd ignited inside him. A hunger she'd stoked even higher over the past seven years by denying him until it was all he could think of.

It wasn't her fault. It was his. He should have left years ago.

She laid herself back on the blue quilt, her white hair across the pillows.

“Put your arms out and spread your legs,” he ordered, moving over to the bed and picking up a couple of the cuffs. They were lined with soft fabric so they wouldn't chafe, the leather nice and soft too.

She obeyed him, her cheeks pink, flickers of trepidation in her eyes as he approached with one of the cuffs, lifting her hand and fastening it around her wrist. “Another punishment, huh?”

“How did you guess?” He pulled the buckle tight then moved down the bed to put one around her slender ankle.

“Oh, just a wild stab in the dark.”

He could hear the bravado in her voice and along with it came the impulse to reassure her. But he wouldn't give it to her. Not tonight. She didn't want to be a victim? Well, he wouldn't treat her like one. Not that she ever had been one in the first place.

Silently he moved around the bed, fastening the cuffs on her wrist and ankle on the other side, then grabbing the straps he'd put on the bed earlier.

She watched him. Her breathing had heightened, her breasts rising and falling fast and hard. The pink tips of her nipples were tight. He would start there, he decided. And there would be no blindfold this time, so she could see everything.

See how utterly at his mercy she was.

There were D-rings in the cuffs, to attach to the straps, and from there he could attach the straps to the hooks he'd put into the posts of his bed.

He hadn't ever had a woman in here, preferring to use the club dungeons. He'd thought maybe he'd find someone at some point, someone he wouldn't mind bringing into his home. But he never had. And when he'd put those hooks into his bed, he hadn't been thinking of some vague ‘someone.' He'd been thinking of Eva.

Once he'd clicked the straps into place, leaving her spread-eagled and bound, he stepped back from the foot of the bed purely so he could look at her.

Satisfaction wound through him, his deep, heavy anger, loosening its grip.

She's made for you. She's made to be here, tied to your bed. Yours.

She looked unearthly, like she was made out of mother-of-pearl and fine silver. A snow maiden from the book of fairy tales his nanny had once read to him from. The only color to her were the pink of her nipples, the deep rose of her lips, and the pale coral of her pussy revealed by her spread legs.

Possessiveness swept through him and he let it fill him completely.

After Fitzgerald had hurt her, had cast his hungry eyes over her, tonight he would stake his claim on her once and for all. He would do whatever the fuck he wanted to her. Because tonight she was his.

She was shaking a little but that was okay. The cuffs wouldn't hurt her physically, they were only there to heighten her feeling of being bound. To allow her to let go and submit to him and to the pleasure he would give her.

That was his real punishment for her. To overwhelm her with pleasure. Make her aware of everything she'd been denying them both for so long. Make her understand what they could have had. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right, but he'd be fucked if he wasn't going to do it anyway.

She wanted to see what he was capable of? Well, he'd show her.

He didn't keep a lot of equipment at home, because he liked to keep things simple. But in the drawer in his closet, along with the straps and cuffs, he kept a paddle and a flogger.

Maybe not those yet. Not while being bound was still new to her. Besides, he could get a lot of play out of simple bondage. Using her mind to start with.

He came around the side of the bed and her gaze followed him. Her throat moving, her lips parting. Not knowing what he was going to do must be driving her crazy.

Gently he ran his fingers down her outstretched arm, watching the goose bumps rise on her skin in response. A quiver went through her.

Christ, but she was responsive.

“W-What punishment are you going to give me now?” she asked shakily.

“That's for me to know and you to find out.” He curved his hand lower, down over her breast, cupping the soft weight of it in his palm.

The straps pulled tight as she jerked, her breath a hiss in the silence of the room.

He brushed her tight little nipple with his thumb and she shivered again. “Do you like your cuffs, angel?”

“N-Not really.”

“Good.” He pinched her nipple hard between his fingers, watching her delicate features twist as she gasped in response. There was pain there, but the flush to her cheeks told him there was pleasure too.

He leaned over, licked her nipple, the salty sweet taste of her skin on his tongue. Another rattle of her restraints as she tried to pull away, so he sucked her into his mouth, drawing hard on her, the sharp cry she made hardening his cock painfully.

“Zac…” She was breathing hard, her voice hoarse.

He released her nipple, circling it lazily with his tongue, bracing his hands on either side of her bound body. Then he lifted his head, looked into her eyes. They'd gone dark with arousal and anticipation. And a healthy dose of fear. But not that cold, sick terror he'd seen in her face earlier tonight after she'd faced Fitzgerald.

This was a delicious kind of fear, the kind that heightened arousal.

“You've denied me your body for a long time, angel,” he said softly, leaning over her. “You've kept me helpless, wanting you and unable to have you. Do you know what that does to a man like me?”

She looked up at him. A flicker of anguish crossed her face. “I know, Zac. God, I know.”

Perhaps she did. But he was going to make certain of it. “No, I don't think you do. Which is why I've bound you, made you as helpless as you made me.” He bent further, so his mouth was almost touching hers, her breath warm and sweet between them. “And I'll make you want like I wanted, Eva. I'll make you so desperate it'll become a physical pain. So you'll do anything, anything at all to end it. What you had downstairs was just a taste of what I can make your body do. The desperation I can make it feel.”