Maybe that was why I wanted it. Being with Erik had done something to me. Made me want to step out of the shadows. I didn't think I'd ever be the sort of woman who wanted the spotlight, but for the first time since my father left, I could see myself wanting more than just a job.
I took a slow breath and willed myself not to trip, then started toward the bar. I hadn't thought to text Erik when I arrived, which I now realized had been a mistake. I'd never find him in this crowd. Before I got to the bar, however, the throng in front of me parted, and I saw Erik coming toward me.
His normally bright blue eyes had darkened, and there was something in them that spoke to a deep and primal yearning inside me. As he got closer, I saw that it wasn't only desire, but the sort of declaration that made the people around me take a step back. I'd done a little of my own research, and there wasn't a doubt in my mind that Erik was a Dominant, but watching people move out of his way without him having to say a word brought the point home with a new understanding.
When he was just a few inches away, he wrapped one hand around the back of my neck, the other going to my waist. His eyes locked with mine as he pulled me against him hard enough to make me gasp. Then his mouth was on mine, claiming, possessing. This wasn't some sweet kiss, or even something a little more heated with the promise of more to come. No, this was the sort of kiss that told everyone watching that I was taken. I didn't really know what that meant outside of this moment, but I pushed aside any thoughts that weren't of now. I planned on enjoying each moment I had with him.
When he broke the kiss, he was breathing as hard as I was, his fingers flexing on the small of my back. Without a word, he turned and took my hand, leading me back the way he'd come.
We paused next to a table where three gorgeous men were staring at us.
“Tanya, this is my cousin, Alix Wexler, and our friends Jace Randell and Reb Union. Guys, this is Tanya Lacey.”
Each of the guys nodded as he said their names, and they all looked like they were trying not to laugh. There was no maliciousness in their eyes though, which made me believe the mirth was directed at Erik rather than me. Before I could attempt to figure it out though, Erik was moving us away from the table toward the back of the club.
The music was loud enough that I didn't try to ask where we were going, but when we stopped at a door, the butterflies in my stomach took flight again. Erik pulled what looked like a credit card from his pocket, ran it through a scanner next to the door, then pushed heavy wood open.
The lighting in the room was as dim as the rest of the club, but when the door closed behind us, the silence was almost deafening.
“I think I've seen your friend Reb bef…” My sentence trailed off as my brain registered what my eyes were seeing.
One of the things I'd done in my personal research had been looking up terms and definitions, but there was a huge difference between seeing pictures on a computer screen and having them right in front of me.
The bed was massive and covered with pillows of all sizes and shapes. It didn't have a canopy but did have posts at each corner. Posts that had a variety of rings and cuffs hung on each one of them. A padded bench sat near the center of the room with its own set of restraints. And those weren't the only restraints in the room by a long shot. Handcuffs and leather cuffs and strips of silk and cotton and ropes...one entire wall was covered with them. One of the other walls had a giant X on it, and the cuffs at the top and bottom left little doubt as to what it was for. Another wall had all those fun things like whips and floggers and canes.
Oh shit.
I was way over my head, no doubt.
Then Erik was stepping up behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. He put his mouth against my ear.
“Do you have any idea how many men out there right now are wishing they were in here with you?”
I shivered as he ran his hands back to my hips, then forward again and up to cup my breasts. Even through the dress and bra, I could feel the heat of his palms, the strength in his fingers. My pussy clenched at the memory of his fingers inside me.
“But they can't have you,” he continued. “Because you're mine.”
The word made something inside me twist, but I told myself not to read into the word. He didn't mean it any way other than sex and tonight. That was enough.
“I'm thinking chapter fourteen.”
For a moment, I wasn't sure what he was talking about, but then I remembered the book.
And then I remembered chapter fourteen and heat flooded me.
“This is a beautiful dress, sweetheart,” he murmured. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck as he slid his hands down to the hem of my dress. “But I think I want to see what's underneath it.”
To my surprise, he didn't toss it on the floor after pulling it over my head, but instead draped it over a nearby chair, then turned came around to face me.
He let out a low whistle. “Damn. You look good enough to eat.” I flushed as he chuckled. “You know, when I first met you, I wondered if that blush covered your whole body.”
I swallowed hard, digging my nails into my palms instead of covering myself like I wanted to.
“I asked you a question earlier this week, and we decided we'd come back to it. I think it's time.”
What in the world was he talking about? And how the hell could he manage a normal conversation when I was standing here in a sheer bra and panties?
“I asked you to tell me all the ways I was your first.”
Right. That question.
“I said pretty much everything,” I remembered. “And then you asked me to tell you what I had done before.”
“So, sweetheart, how about an answer.” He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it onto the seat of the chair where he'd put my dress. “I know you hadn't had sex before me but was that just 'regular' sex or...all kinds?”
That was at least an easy one to answer. “All kinds.”
He raised an eyebrow as he kicked off his shoes. “So when I went down on you...?”
I nodded, cheeks burning.
“Fingers?”
I nodded again.
“Was that someone else's or your own?”
I ducked my head, wondering if I'd made a mistake coming here.
Erik's touch was gentle as he hooked his finger under my chin, tilting my head until I was looking at him. “Sweetheart, you need to answer my question.”
There was an edge to his voice that should have made me nervous, but instead, made me want to lean into his touch. The hand cupping my chin was firm, but not hard.
“A kiss,” I said quietly.
His eyes narrowed. “That didn't sound like the answer to my question.”
“It was.” I forced my eyes to meet his. “The question about what I had done before.”
I would probably regret telling him this, despite the fact that he'd promised not to freak out, but he deserved to know just how much experience I lacked.
“Sophomore year in college, my roommate set me up on a blind date with her cousin.”
Erik's fingers tightened on my chin for a moment, and something flashed across his eyes. I didn't try to analyze it, but it'd looked something like jealousy.
“He was nice enough,” I said. “But it wasn't anything special. He walked me back to my dorm and kissed me goodnight.”
After nearly half a minute of silence, Erik spoke, “And?”
“And what?”
“What else?” he asked. “Did you two go back to your room together? Or did you just fantasize about what you wanted to do?”
I shook my head. “Neither. I didn't do any of that.”
“Fuck me,” he muttered as he took a step back, his expression unreadable. “Are you telling me that you never...was the first time you ever came when we were here before?”
I wrapped my arms around myself and wondered if I should just go get my dress now. He'd promised he wouldn't freak out, but I should have known...
Erik took
my face between his hands, his mouth hard on mine as he kissed me. His hands slid up, fingers buried in my hair as his lips parted mine. His tongue twisted around mine as he made a sound in the back of his throat.
I wasn't even aware that we'd moved until my leg bumped against the bed. As Erik broke the kiss, he rested his forehead against mine. “Since we were together, have you touched yourself?”
I shook my head.
“I'm the only one who's ever made you come?” His thumb brushed across my bottom lip as I nodded. “Fuck, Tanya, do you have any idea how hot that is?”
Hope flared in me. “It is?”
“Yes, sweetheart. It is.” He took a step back, eyes gleaming. “And now I want to watch you make yourself come.”
I stared at him. “What about chapter fourteen?”
The corner of his mouth curved up. “I changed my mind. I want to do chapter seventeen.”
The chapter where Chase spanked Leia so that every time she sat down, she remembered that she was his.
And then he had her touch herself, but she wasn't allowed to come until he gave her permission.
I was so screwed.
Erik sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled me across his lap. I held myself on my elbows and tried not to think about the fact that my ass was in the air, about to be spanked by a sexy billionaire.
“You remember our safe word?”
“Daisy.” I swallowed hard and wondered how I was supposed to prepare myself for something like this.
“Relax, sweetheart.” He ran his hand down my back, and then over my ass. “Love the panties, by the way.”
The sound came a split second before the sting. I sucked in a breath, then let it out with a gasp when his hand came down on the other side.
“Breathe. Feel.” He tugged on the pin holding my hair in place, and a curtain of silvery-blonde fell on either side of my face. “Block out everything else. Just feel.”
Like I had much of a choice in the matter. I'd never been so aware of anyone as I was of him right at this moment. The heat radiating off him. The hard muscles of his stomach against my arm. The feel of his erection under my stomach. The scent of him, spicy and masculine.
I concentrated on those things as he delivered several quick blows, alternating where they landed until every inch of my ass felt like it was on fire. It wasn't painful, exactly, but it wasn't pleasure either. It was the sort of deep burn that made every nerve so sensitive that I knew I'd feel the lightest touch.
As if to prove this point, he ran his hand over the curve of my ass, and I whimpered.
“You did well, sweetheart.” He shifted us both until he was able to lay me on the bed. I made a pained sound as fabric rubbed against my skin, and he leaned over me, concerned. “Are you all right?”
I nodded. “We can keep going.”
Desire flared in his eyes again, and he moved back from the bed. He grabbed the chair and pulled it over until it was facing me. As he settled in it, he flicked open the top button to his pants and pushed them down his hips enough for me to be able to see his cock straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs.
“Touch yourself, sweetheart. Let me see you make yourself feel good.”
It was clearly an order, but I didn't mind it. In fact, there was something freeing about knowing I didn't have to think about what to do, that I could just let myself go.
I closed my eyes and spread my legs, slid my hand beneath the waistband of my panties. He hadn't told me to take them off, so I wasn't going to. I might not have done this before, but I wasn't so naive that I didn't understand the basic mechanics.
I shivered as my fingers slipped between my folds, finding myself slick and wet. I tried not to think about Erik watching me, about how it must've looked, my hand moving under my panties, my skin flushed with arousal. The pressure inside me built quickly, each touch of my fingers sending pleasure racing across my nerves, mixing with the raw feeling of my skin against lace until I teetered on the edge.
“Come for me, sweetheart.” Erik's voice was rough.
I raised my head, watching as he moved his hand over his cock with firm strokes. He swiped his thumb over the head, but his expression didn't change. Despite his hand's movements, all of his attention was focused on me.
“I want to be buried inside that tight pussy of yours,” he continued. “But not until you come first. Do you want to come?”
“Yes,” I moaned. “I want to come.”
“Then do it, sweetheart.” Erik's voice was nearly a growl. “Let me see you come. Show me that you're mine.”
My back arched up off the bed as I climaxed, but all I could hear was that word, mine, echoing over and over in my head.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Say that you're mine.”
I didn't think, didn't question. In that moment, there was no doubt. As I dropped back to the bedspread, limbs weak, heart racing, I gave him the only answer I could. “I'm yours.”
Chapter Eighteen
Tanya
When I'd first read the scene in Heat of the Sun where Chase watched Leia touch herself, I'd been intrigued by the description of Leia giving up control. Her character had been portrayed as strong and independent, the sort of woman who had what it took to make it in a sport as tough as surfing, so I'd wondered how that would fit into the submissive role where Chase clearly wanted her. For someone who didn't have a submissive bone in his body, Erik had done a good job capturing how Leia felt. But after last night, I thought I had a few insights into what would make a woman like Leia – like me – not only dabble in BDSM, but actually want to be dominated.
I sighed as I took a step back and ran a critical eye over my work. The window was spotless, even if the view wasn't much. I wasn't a messy person by nature, so tidying up after myself was generally easy. Every once in a while, though, a thorough cleaning was a good idea. Physical work when my mind was so full I could barely think had always helped. Things like washing dishes and windows or scrubbing my tiny shower allowed me to slip into the mindless repetition that usually managed to calm my overthinking brain.
Except it wasn't working this time. I'd cleaned every inch of my tiny apartment, even climbing on tables and chairs to wipe down the ceiling. None of it had been able to put aside the memories of last night, or the thoughts that accompanied them. Part of it, I knew, was the fact that my every movement caused the soft cotton of my panties to rub against my still sensitive skin. Sitting didn't hurt, exactly, but there was no ignoring that my ass still smarted from being spanked.
While that was enough to make me blush, none of the physical stuff – not the spanking or the masturbation or even the sex that followed – was foremost in my mind. Instead, two simple words blazed in my head, wanting me to pay attention, to analyze what they meant.
Mine.
Yours.
He'd claimed me, ordered me to acknowledge the claim.
And I had no fucking idea what it meant.
“Dammit!” I muttered as I tossed the paper towel into the trash. I'd known dealing with Erik in any way other than business would bite me in the ass, but I'd done it anyway.
What the hell had I been thinking?
My phone rang, distracting me for the moment.
“Hello?”
“Tanya.”
I scowled but forced my voice to stay even. “Hi, Aunt Lolly. Is everything okay?”
“Everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be?”
Because you only call when you want something. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them. Over the last few years, I'd tried to see things from her point of view. She and my dad had been half-siblings and hadn't gotten along well, so until Dad had left me with her, the two of us hadn't spent much time together. I knew she'd taken me in out of obligation, and it wasn't because I'd merely sensed it. She'd flat-out told me so more than once.
“I'm just surprised to hear from you,” I finally said.
“I was wondering if you'd heard from your father r
ecently.”
I sat down on the floor and leaned back against the couch, closing my eyes as I told myself that yelling at Aunt Lolly wouldn't do anyone any good. During the year I'd lived with her, she'd never wasted an opportunity to tell me that my father was no good, that he left me with her because he'd gotten himself into trouble. That I was nothing more than the constant reminder of the burden he placed on her because he'd fucked up his own life.
“I haven't spoken to him in twelve years. You know that.” I couldn't keep the edge out of the last few words.
“I don't know that,” she sniped back. “It's not like you keep me up to date with what's going on in your life. For all I knew, he came back for you, and the two of you have been off living your own lives without a thought for what you'd put me through.”
What I'd put her through? I was eleven years-old when I'd gotten so tired of the constant verbal abuse that I'd run away. When I was found and brought back, instead of trying to find out why I'd run, she handed me over to the state like I meant nothing to her. Since then, I'd spoken to her twice a year: Christmas and my birthday. Even as a kid, I'd known the only reason she'd even gone through that trouble was so she could tell herself – and anyone else who'd listen – that even though she hadn't been able to handle me, she still felt the need to make sure I knew that she cared about me.
“No, Aunt Lolly, I haven't seen him or talked to him. For all I know, he could be dead.”
The little gasp she gave was so theatrical I almost laughed. “You shouldn't say such things, Tanya.”
What she didn't add was the sentiment she'd drilled into my head for over a year. That it didn't matter if my father was alive, he wouldn't be coming back for me. He'd abandoned me just like my mom.
“Do you want me to have him call you if I hear from him?” I didn't think it would happen, but if I made the offer, maybe I could get her off the phone. As much as I'd wanted a distraction from the situation with Erik, I didn't want to talk to my aunt any longer than absolutely necessary.