Mastered

leaned down and carefully took hold of Evangeline’s hand that was still brushing frantically at his pants.

“Evangeline,” he said quietly. “It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault. If Zander had anything resembling manners, he wouldn’t have barged in here and scared you half to death. You can be sure I’ll send him the dry-cleaning bill.”

Drake sent Zander his own murderous glare, one that promised retribution. Zander’s look of puzzlement only served to enrage Drake further because the stupid fuck had no idea what he’d just destroyed in three seconds’ time.

Evangeline’s expression remained worried, tears still glistening in her eyes, and she nearly dropped the container she held in her other hand because she was trembling so much. Silas rescued it and set it aside before reclaiming her hand so that he held both in his.

Now that Silas’s grip ceased the shaking in her hands, the quiver of her chin was more pronounced. It looked as if it was taking every bit of her control for her not to burst into tears and flee the room as fast as she could.

Drake couldn’t bear her obvious despair and opened his mouth to bark a command that would clear the room in seconds, but before he could speak, Silas tightened his grasp on Evangeline’s hands and stared down directly into her eyes, sincerity radiating from him.

“If there’s another left, I’d love to have one,” Silas said, as if she were offering him the moon.

Drake watched as every single one of his men’s mouths dropped open as Silas effectively soothed Evangeline’s fear and embarrassment with a few simple words and a comforting touch.

Evangeline’s smile would have lit up an entire city block as she reached for another cupcake and delivered it into Silas’s waiting hand. Then Silas sent Zander a withering glare over her head.

“You owe the lady an apology,” Silas said, his voice like ice. “Drake’s lady.”

“Ah hell,” Zander swore. “I guess I just ruined my chances for a cupcake.”

Drake saw Evangeline sneak a glance into the container and for a moment, he thought she was going to give Zander one, but instead she picked up the cupcake and turned the container upside down, signaling that there were no more.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “But this one is for Drake.”

The others snickered and Maddox looked at Zander with a somber expression.

“Trust me, dude. You do not want to get on the bad side of this one.”

Drake ignored the goings-on as Evangeline hesitantly entered his space, walking behind his desk to stand in front of his chair that he’d pivoted around to watch her exchange with Silas.

“I’m sorry I was late,” she whispered. “We weren’t really in a traffic jam. I overslept.”

Drake fought his smile but then gave up, not giving a fuck who saw his reaction to the angel standing in front of him holding a cupcake.

“I know,” he whispered back, absurdly pleased that she wasn’t even capable of such a small deception.

A small smile curved her lips, one quirking upward a little higher than the other. “If I give you the last cupcake, am I forgiven?”

He drew her in between his splayed knees, the cupcake still in her upturned palm.

“That depends on whether you’ll lick the icing off my lips when I’m done.”

A blush scorched her cheeks, but she needn’t have worried. His men had disappeared the moment Evangeline had approached his desk. They might be irreverent fools for the most part, and they’d certainly stretched the limits of Drake’s patience by occupying his office when they knew Evangeline was coming in, but they knew full well when to make their exit.

When Evangeline hastily looked around and realized what Drake had already known, she relaxed and a devilish glint entered her eyes. She swiped one finger over the top of the cupcake, leaving a dollop of frosting on the tip. Then she reached over before he realized what she was up to and smeared the frosting right across his mouth.

He blinked in surprise and then yanked her forward until she tumbled into his lap, the cupcake completely forgotten. She stared up at his lips and whispered, “Yum.”

She almost pulled off the naughty vixen act. But then she promptly ruined it by blushing to the roots of her hair, causing Drake to throw back his head and laugh. As afternoons went, this was by far the most disordered, chaotic and as far from the usual boring ritual one he’d had in a very long time. All thanks to an impish, golden-haired, blue-eyed angel and a Tupperware container of cupcakes.





Evangeline hesitated, knowing she’d impulsively thrown down the gauntlet, and she couldn’t very well take a napkin and wipe the frosting from his mouth. She was faintly horrified at what she’d done, but it had been a compulsion she couldn’t ignore. His teasing had instantly given her the image of kissing and licking every bit of the delicious frosting from that hard mouth and, before she could think better of baiting the lion, she acted.

Who was this woman she’d never thought existed? She was acting like a sultry temptress and while one part of her was a little mortified, the other part of her was applauding the initiative she’d taken.

The look in Drake’s eyes had told her that she hadn’t made a mistake and now he was waiting, an air of expectancy surrounding him, for her to finish what she’d started.

Tentatively she cupped the hard line of his jaw and then leaned in, her tongue darting to the corner of his mouth where more of the icing had collected in a blob. She flicked, removing the sweet-tasting substance, and Drake groaned, giving her courage to continue.

She pressed her mouth to his, smearing the icing on her lips even as her tongue came out, licking delicately over the male flesh. Then she slid her tongue inward, so he could taste the frosting they now shared.

She sucked in his quick exhale, savoring it before continuing with her slow, sensual removal of the frosting. She covered every inch of his mouth, licking and sucking until there was nothing left but their lips fused solidly together. With one last, leisurely lick, she broke away, breathless, her gaze seeking his in anticipation of his reaction.

His eyes glittered dangerously and she shivered, wondering just what she had provoked. That look made her feel deliciously hunted, like she was prey and he was a predator poised to pounce.

He hoisted her up until she was on her feet and then stood, pushing her back a short distance. Facing her, he wordlessly reached down and unfastened his slacks, shoving them down his hips. Then he reached into his boxers and pulled out his straining cock.

All she could do was stare at his enormous erection, her breath held in anticipation. Excitement, nervousness and a host of other sensations scuttled around in her belly until she felt light-headed.

“Take your fingers and coat every inch in the frosting,” he said.

Shocked, all she could do was stare incredulously at him, not at all sure what she’d gotten herself into. She was frozen and incapable of moving. All it appeared she was capable of was standing there with her mouth gaping open.

His eyes narrowed and she knew she’d displeased him, which left her with an odd sense of failure that she didn’t at all like.

“Are you questioning me?” he asked in a dangerously quiet tone.

“N-no,” she stammered out. “But . . . but what if someone walks in?” she asked in a desperate, hushed tone, as if the walls had ears, and from what she’d observed so far, they did indeed seem to have just that.

He frowned, his look of displeasure intensifying along with the sinking sensation in her chest.

“First, no one would dare intrude when I’m alone with my woman, and furthermore, if I tell you to suck my cock and someone does walk in, I expect you to keep doing exactly as I’ve instructed. Do you understand?”

She bit into her bottom lip to quell the instant protest on her lips. Instead she slowly nodded her acceptance.

“Who do you belong to, Angel?” he asked in a harsh tone.

“Y-you,” she whispered.

“Who owns you? Who are you to always obey without question?”

Oh God. What had she done? And was this truly what she wanted? The sane part of her screamed no, that she was crazy for even contemplating it. The impulsive part of her reminded her that she had signed on for this fully aware of Drake’s demanding, dominant nature. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t been clear enough in his expectations. He couldn’t have been more blunt.

“You, Drake,” she said, relieved that she sounded stronger and steadier than before.

He reached out to cup her chin firmly in his hand.

“Then you need to get on your knees and put your mouth where I told you.”

Dutifully, she sank to her knees and then shakily reached for the cupcake, swiping a goodly amount onto her fingers. Her touch was tentative as she smeared the sticky substance down the length of his extended cock. Satisfied that she’d done as he’d asked, she tossed the cupcake into the wastepaper basket near Drake’s desk and then turned back, eyeing his erection with new appreciation.

She knew he was big. Her body had protested his intrusion when he’d made love to her, but she’d been too mindless with pleasure to really pay attention to his size. But now, she wasn’t so sure she was going to be able to pull this off.

He had to know she’d never done this. Surely he did.

“Evangeline,” he said, his voice not as terse as it had been before.

She glanced up at him, swallowing nervously.

“I’ll guide you. If I wanted a woman who was an expert at giving head, there are any number of women I could have. But your innocence is a turn-on like none I’ve ever experienced. I like that I’m the only man who has felt your sweet mouth around his cock. Relax. I promise that my being inside your mouth will be nothing short of perfection.”

Buoyed by his words and absurdly happy that he wanted her, that he liked her inexperience, she leaned forward, placing her hands on his thighs only for him to gently pry them away and lower them to her own thighs.

“Keep your hands down. I’ll direct your movements. All you have to do is relax and trust me.”

She realized in that moment, misgivings and all, that she did trust him and she couldn’t even say why. God only knew the rocky, tumultuous start of their . . . whatever this was between them . . . didn’t lend itself to blind trust, but she felt safe with him and some part of her knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

After ensuring her hands were in their proper place, she leaned up on her knees and tentatively swirled her tongue around the bulbous head of his cock, licking it clean. Then she opened her mouth wider and began to slide him further into her mouth, working her tongue around his girth so that no spot was left untouched.

To her dismay, he was only halfway in when she felt the tip brush against the back of her throat. She’d been right. There was no way she could take all of him. Not without making an embarrassing spectacle of herself and gagging. How humiliating would that be? She had no knowledge of deep-throating, something she’d only heard of by listening in on her friends’ more bawdy conversations. According to them, men liked women who could deep-throat very much. But then Drake had contradicted that claim by saying if he wanted a woman who was an expert at giving head, as he’d described it, there were no shortage of women he could call on. He’d told her he wanted her. That had to mean something, right?

“Relax, Angel,” Drake said gently. “I like it long and slow. Getting off quickly in such a sweet mouth would be a crime. Take a deep breath. I’ll guide you. Breathe through your nose. I won’t overwhelm you.”

His words had a calming effect and she instantly relaxed. His fingers tangled into her hair and he palmed her head with his hands, holding her firmly as he took over.

He thrust forward, his instructions replaying in Evangeline’s mind. He paused a moment and she peeked up at him from underneath her lashes to see his face creased in ecstasy. He withdrew and then pushed in again, deepening his thrust.

She felt a moment of fleeting panic and forced herself to breathe out through her nose and relax.

For several long minutes, he leisurely thrust in and out, each time gaining more depth as he allowed her to become accustomed to the experience and his considerable size.

She sensed the change in him immediately and knew he was nearing his breaking point. His grip on her head tightened and his movements became less gentle. He was hot and silky and so very hard in her mouth, sliding over her tongue again and again.

“I’m going to fuck your mouth, Angel. And I’m going to fuck it hard.”

Before she had time to react to the statement, he began thrusting harder, fucking her mouth just like he’d fuck her pussy. She didn’t have time to react or overthink or even panic. She was too focused on staying as relaxed as possible and remembering to breathe. It took every ounce of her strength not to choke or gag, but she was determined not to disappoint him.

A tiny burst of liquid escaped on her tongue, surprising her. And she knew he was very close.

“Swallow it, Angel. Do not let one drop escape the mouth I’m about to come in.”

She shuddered at his words, her entire body tingling, her nipples and clit swollen and aroused. So much so that a single touch would catapult her into orgasm.

She’d never performed oral sex on a man, much less swallowed his ejaculate. And he’d given her strict orders not to allow a single drop to escape her lips. She closed her eyes, giving in to Drake’s urgent demands and simply giving herself into his care, knowing she wouldn’t fail as long as he was in control.

He thrust hard, at one point his balls bumping her chin. His entire body was rigid and his hands were making a tangled mess of her hair. He couldn’t seem to remain still, his fingers and hands constantly stroking and caressing her head as he murmured words of encouragement and praise.

And then he thrust hard. Harder than any of his previous thrusts. And she felt an explosion of hot liquid hit the back of her throat and quickly fill her mouth. Remembering his strict order, she hastily swallowed and then swallowed again as more replaced what was already gone.

He continued to thrust, though his movements had slowed and lacked his earlier urgency. Semen bathed her tongue, the insides of her cheeks and the very back of her throat, filling her with the very essence of him. And she swallowed it all, ensuring that nothing escaped.

When he finally began to pull from her mouth, she lovingly bathed him with her tongue, wiping it clean of his release just as she’d licked every bit of frosting from it before.

Then he reached down and carefully pulled her to her feet. She was shaking, her senses shattered by what had just occurred. She’d never really had any interest in going down on a man. It just seemed too messy, too much work and well, not very pleasant. But Drake had changed her opinion on that matter in only a few minutes.

She loved that she could bring him so much pleasure, that in fact, in her own way, she had a measure of power over him.

“Go get cleaned up,” he said in a husky voice. “The bathroom is through there.” He pointed in the direction of a door. “You won’t be disturbed. Go ahead and change into the clothes you brought for tonight and I’ll have food brought up so we can eat when we get hungry.”





Evangeline felt like a fairy princess as she surveyed herself in the mirror, critically going over her makeup, how the dress fit, her hair that she’d pulled atop her head and had fashioned loose curls to fall gently down her neck.

Try as she might, she couldn’t find fault with her appearance. God only knew she’d spent enough time fussing over every single aspect of it.

Time to face the music. Memories of the last time she’d come into this club still had the power to shame her. Nothing had changed except her status as Drake’s woman. Did that suddenly make her above average? As the saying went back home, you can put lipstick on a pig, but you still end up with a pig.

Certainly the dress was to die for and cost more than the dress she’d chosen that night, but it wasn’t as though Evangeline had tried to walk into the club in a designer knockoff. She tried to look for any discernible difference that made her suddenly more worthy of being at Impulse, but she was at a loss.

But at least she didn’t have to worry about being thrown out, getting assaulted or Eddie showing up to ruin the evening. She’d already figured out that Drake hadn’t lied when he said he protected what was his.

A light shiver skittered over her body as Maddox’s words filtered through her mind. He’d been very serious when he’d told Evangeline that Eddie would never harm her or come within a mile of her. The look in Maddox’s eyes had been menacing and she absolutely believed him, but she didn’t want to dwell on the how he was so certain and to what lengths he’d gone to ensure such confidence when he’d assured her that Eddie would no longer pose a problem for her.

Drake owned a club, but she’d gleaned from words dropped here and there that Drake had multiple business interests. She wasn’t altogether certain she wanted to know what all he dealt in that he required the security detail he utilized and hired men who looked like they could snap a man’s neck with a mere look.

No, she didn’t want to know. Some things were better left unsaid, unknown. Maybe that made her a bad person. Unethical. Not to mention stupid and naïve. But all she wanted to focus on was whatever this thing between her and Drake was and seeing where it took them.

He’d been angry. No, angry was too harsh a word. Annoyed was perhaps a better description when she’d hesitated and appeared to question his authority after agreeing to obey his dictates and submit to him. And yet she’d been aroused by the authority so evident in his voice. Did it make her crazy? Had he managed to uncover a part of herself she hadn’t known existed—would’ve likely never have known if not for him? She simply couldn’t imagine responding to another man the way she’d come to life at his touch. Every single one of his men was incredibly hot in his own unique way, and yet she felt nothing more than appreciation for their sheer masculine beauty. They didn’t cause her to have extremely erotic fantasies.

Knowing she’d taken far too much time changing and arranging her hair and applying makeup and that Drake was probably annoyed—again—she gave herself one last once-over and smoothed her dress before taking a deep breath and slipping her heels on.

Her hand hovered over the doorknob as she gathered her courage to walk back into Drake’s office, praying he approved and would be pleased with her appearance.

Swallowing back a gulp and straightening her spine, thrusting her chin up so she at least gave the impression of poise and confidence, she opened the door and walked as calmly as she could toward Drake. But inside she was a seething mass of nerves.

As soon as the door opened and Drake came into view, his gaze locked on her and fire burned in his eyes. He was silent, but his look said it all. He took in every aspect of her appearance, his gaze making a slow perusal from head to toe that had her cheeks burning every bit as much as his eyes.

“You look magnificent,” he said in a low, husky, sexy-as-hell voice that made all her girly parts tighten and tingle. “My angel has transformed into quite the temptress. I’m tempted to change my plans for you for the evening and keep you here all to myself. I don’t like the idea of sharing such an enchantress with anyone. I’d much prefer to have you in my lap so I could lick and taste and touch you the entire night.”

She flushed with pleasure and delight at the sincerity in his voice and the . . . possessiveness. She’d never considered herself a woman who would be attracted to a man so forbiddingly possessive, but the idea that he considered her his and was overpossessive of what he now considered his called to a part of her previously undiscovered. She liked it. A lot. What woman wouldn’t like belonging to a man like Drake Donovan and being pampered, spoiled and cherished to such an extreme?

“The dress suits you. It was made for you, and those heels . . . I’m going to fuck you in nothing but those heels later. But babe, no dress, makeup or shoes can make a woman like you more beautiful than you already are. You shine, no matter what you have on, and especially when you have nothing on at all. There’s not a woman who exists who’d look as good as you do in that dress and those heels. It’s all you. Don’t ever forget that.”

There was no hint of anything but complete conviction in his words and in his expression. And God, the ownership she saw so clearly in his eyes made her knees wobble. The image of him fucking her in just her heels made her clit swell and pulse to the point of discomfort.

This was a man who could have any woman in the world, and yet he’d chosen her. She didn’t understand it. Couldn’t even fathom it. But at the moment she was caught up in a fairy tale and had no desire to question the fact that this gorgeous man thought she was beautiful and that he wanted her. Not another woman. Her. Evangeline Hawthorn. Just an ordinary girl. Nothing special about her and yet he made her feel wanted and special.

She closed the distance between them and leaned down so their lips hovered a mere breath away.

“I’m glad you approve,” she whispered.

And then she kissed him, uncaring of the fact that she’d have to reapply her lip gloss. Right now she had to kiss him. Had to show him what his words had meant to her.

She fed hungrily at his mouth, sucking at the tip of his tongue when his lips parted and then delving deeper so she could taste him, consume him.

A low growl rumbled from his throat, vibrating over her tongue, sending shivers dancing down her spine.

She slowly drew away, and he frowned as if he was in no way finished with her yet, but she wanted to drown in his gaze again and bask in the desire and approval in his dark eyes.

“Approve is hardly an apt description, Angel. I’m not sure whether you’re an angel or a demon in an angel’s guise. I’ve never been so affected by a mere kiss.”

“Me either,” she whispered.

He smiled then. “Tell me, Angel. Just how many men have you kissed?”

She flushed and looked away in embarrassment. He cupped her jaw and gently guided her gaze back to his.

“I didn’t ask to shame you. I’m hoping to hell that you’re going to tell me that you’ve only kissed one other man, because he sure as hell doesn’t count, which would make me the first. The first that means anything. Because the thought of that pleases me a hell of a lot and I don’t give a damn about your inexperience. I want to be the man to teach you pleasure and eroticism. I want,