Page 19 of Knight's Game


  He grinned back. ‘Sometimes ass-kissing is useful.’

  ‘Manipulative bastard.’

  ‘Whatever it takes, baby. You keep changing; the game plan keeps changing.’ But he liked when she smiled like that – all dew-fresh sweetness so natural it should have a sell-by date on it. ‘I’m open to suggestions. We have twenty minutes. More if you want. There isn’t one single party guest who interests me. The only person I want to see is right here,’ he said quietly, reaching out, curling his fingers around her shoulders, pulling her into his body. Bending his head, he touched her lips with his in a barely there sensation.

  A young boy’s kiss, she thought, her romantic sensibilities not entirely abandoned. Then he coloured her romantic vision in pastel shades of perfect when he whispered, ‘You’re the only person I ever want to see – in the morning, at night and all the hours in between.’

  ‘Good,’ she whispered back, because if she said any more, if she said what she really felt, his expression would turn blank, he’d shut down and her vacation would be over.

  Good? He bares his soul and he gets Good? It struck him suddenly that her reasons for leaving him in Hong Kong could still be an issue, that his screwing around in the past had come back to bite him. God knows she wasn’t like other women who would have swooned at his feet if he’d said as much to them. But he wanted what he wanted – he always had. So he raised his head and said with unprecedented sincerity, ‘I can make it better than good, Katherine. I can make it anything you want.’

  She smiled, understanding she was gambling with her life just being there, understanding as well the quiet power of her addiction. ‘I know. You’re my Svengali. You can do anything.’

  That was better. He didn’t realize how much it mattered that she smiled like that – like she had on The Glory Girl. Maybe the time had come to retract his cardinal rule against emotional entanglement, admit his obsession with Katherine might be more than a temporary affair. But the equivocating maybe and might required a small, steadying breath before he relinquished his life-long principles and he couldn’t quite disguise the reluctance in his voice. ‘My doing anything includes waking up with you, seeing you at breakfast, knowing you’re beside me during the day, holding you close at night.’ His voice dropped to a hush. ‘Come live with me, work for me if you like. Or, better yet, just be with me, don’t work, make me happy.’

  She wanted to stop this moment in time, or, more sensibly, take back what she’d heard, because, his reluctance aside, Dominic had offered her paradise. An unthinkable paradise, unfortunately, for mere mortals who didn’t live in Dominic’s rarefied world. For people who couldn’t just reach out and take whatever they wanted. For people like her. ‘Could we leave the big decisions for later and just make each other happy now?’ she asked with forced calm.

  He half smiled. ‘This bathroom’s not romantic enough for you?’

  ‘I’m just kinda shaky right now – that’s a big agenda.’ And a huge gamble for someone who wasn’t a complete risk-taker. She wasn’t a master of the universe who had the world at her feet. And the fact that Dominic had left more women behind than she could count was a scary reality. ‘Could we talk about it later?’ Intent on ending a conversation that was likely to result in heartbreak for her, she slid her hand to his zipper and began opening his fly.

  Sex was their unambiguous connection, safe from scruple or doubt.

  Dominic almost insisted on a better answer because he was a master of the universe, who either got what he wanted or fought for what he wanted. But his voice of reason snidely observed, She just saved you from yourself, dude, at precisely the moment Kate pressed her warm palm against the gap in his unzipped jeans and his spiking erection immediately eradicated any competing messages in his brain. Automatically moving his hands down Kate’s back, he grasped the hem of her blouse and lifted.

  ‘No!’ She shoved at his arms, panic banishing the tumult in her brain. ‘We don’t have time for that.’

  He flicked a glance at her hands on his upper arms. ‘Let go.’

  Her fingers instantly slid away as though programmed to obey his gruff tone. Then a heartbeat later, her rebellious instincts kicked in. ‘If this is Mrs B’s bathroom, I don’t want to make a mess. Let’s do something simple, minimum undressing, nothing to clean up. Although,’ she added with a small smile, ‘there might be an upside if I get to watch you cleaning the bathroom.’ Her smile widened. ‘That would be priceless.’

  ‘Or you on your hands and knees cleaning while I fuck you,’ he said, drawing her hands to his chest, looking down at her with amusement. ‘Now that’s what I call priceless. And don’t worry about Mrs B. She’s not a problem.’

  Kate gave him a sharp look. ‘Don’t you dare say because you’ve done this in here before.’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘That’s not the answer I want.’

  A lift of his brows. ‘Is this a lie or no lie situation. Give me a clue.’

  She scowled, tried to pull away. ‘Fucker.’

  ‘Probably,’ he said with inexhaustible patience and a steely grip. ‘But I just met you six weeks ago. I can’t change the past.’

  ‘In contrast to you, I don’t have a past,’ she said huffily, not reasonably, but with the legions of women he’d known – all vying for his favour, smiling at him, flirting with him, goddamn fucking him – reason wasn’t even in the ball park.

  ‘One of your many charms,’ he said calmly, a ghost of a smile on his lips. ‘All that sexy innocence. It makes me crazy. I should lock you away. Or shackle you to my bed.’

  She shot him a look of pure incredulity. ‘That is so fucked up.’

  ‘Too unromantic?’ he said with a straight face.

  An eye roll, a delicate hiss to her voice when she spoke. ‘I’ve got news for you, Kemosabe. Check your calendar. We’ve moved past the dawn of time.’

  ‘I have a news flash for you,’ he said with the authority conferred by zero obligations and unlimited wealth. ‘I can do either one of those things. No problem.’

  Her eyes suddenly lit up with temper. ‘I’d fight you.’

  He smiled. ‘Even better.’

  ‘Jesus, you’re a disrespectful shit.’ Each word was a hard, pugnacious zap.

  He glanced down at the prominent bulge in his unzipped jeans. ‘Take it out,’ he said smoothly, ‘and we can discuss me being a disrespectful shit and you liking it. Come on.’ His voice was soft as he dropped her hands and unclasped the metal button on his waistband. Opening his fly wider, he shoved his boxers out of the way. ‘Slow and easy now. Watch the zipper.’

  She didn’t move.

  He exhaled softly, ignored her filthy look. ‘I have all night – fuck, a week if you want. You’re the one concerned about my sister. Should I turn on the TV while you’re trying to make up your mind if you want to fuck or not?’ he asked mildly as if he didn’t have a mammoth hard-on, as if he could control his dick like he controlled everything else in his world. ‘There’s an NBA game I wouldn’t mind watching.’ He reached for the remote on the two-sink vanity.

  The bathroom was as big as her living room; even the TV was pretty huge for a bathroom, and placed conveniently on the wall at the foot of the marble tub. She shot a quick glance over her shoulder as he flicked it on and clicked on ESPN.

  ‘God damn it,’ she spat. ‘Do you ever give an inch?’

  He shifted his gaze from the TV to her. ‘You have no idea,’ he said drily. ‘We’re not talking inches, we’re talking miles, fucking continents. So stop breaking my balls.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yeah, really.’

  It was part grumble, part annoyance. It was also sweeter than hell because underneath he was saying he couldn’t stay away. ‘I’m done breaking your balls.’ Her smile was filled with possibility. ‘I apologize for any inconvenience.’

  He laughed. ‘Thanks. I feel better now about you totally fucking up my life.’

  ‘Maybe I could make it up to you.’

&n
bsp; He hadn’t heard that pure, clear willingness before, the unquestioning consent and permission. He didn’t even think twice. He went for it. ‘Maybe you could take a look at my whips.’

  Her gaze came up swift and hot. ‘That doesn’t do anything for me.’

  After a lifetime of docile women, he didn’t actually mind her intransigence. He liked the challenge. But then he was on the distant shore of fucked-up. ‘Let me file that away,’ he murmured sardonically, ‘for future reference. Right now, I’m waiting. He’s waiting. Move.’

  ‘Watch it,’ she snapped. ‘Or your dick might suffer.’

  ‘You watch it. Or I might carry you out naked past all the gawking guests and screw you at home.’

  Her eyes were huge. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘I wouldn’t take the gamble if I were you.’ His gaze flicked downwards, then up, his brows faintly raised.

  Her cheeks flushed, her mouth firmed, but she slid her hand down his stomach, curled her fingers around his erection and carefully worked it up past his zipper.

  ‘There’s a good girl,’ he said pleasantly, as if he hadn’t baldly coerced her. ‘Get on your knees, give him a little taste of your mouth and then we’ll decide how we’re going to fuck. Your way or mine.’

  She shot him a poisonous look.

  ‘If only looks could kill, Katherine,’ he drawled, his smile wicked. ‘I suggest you do what you’re told or a helluva lot of people will be seeing your amazingly fuckable body.’

  She lowered herself to her knees under his smug gaze, took his pulsing dick in her hands, pulled it away from his body. His erection was hard as nails; she could feel the torque in her wrists as she hauled him downwards to her mouth and licked a path up the velvety flesh.

  He groaned softly, gripped her shoulders. ‘Slowly now,’ he murmured. ‘It’s not a race.’

  She instinctively complied with the corrupting authority in his soft command, as though her senses were trained to respond, as though she had no will or, perhaps more practically, her body understood the rewards for compliance. Her nipples instantly peaked, her sex turned liquid, feverish anticipation coiled deep inside, ignoring all her unresolved resentments.

  But his threat was real and whether she loved or hated his authority, either she did what he wanted or he’d carry her naked past all the guests.

  She didn’t for a second question his audacity.

  Straightening her spine, she stretched to fully accommodate him with her mouth. Then, dipping her head, she readjusted her grip on his rigid dick, sliding her fingers upwards slightly to guide his swollen crest to her mouth. Her jaw strained as she opened wide to ease what she could of the huge erection past her lips, her sex fluttering, warmth spreading between her legs as she selfishly wished his mouth was doing her or, better yet, his dick.

  ‘Deeper,’ he grunted, tapping her cheek.

  Asshole. If her mouth wasn’t full, she would have sworn at him. On the other hand, if she wanted to feel him inside her soon, if a selfish quid pro quo was on her agenda, she’d do well not to offend. In fact, might he oblige her now if she asked? She began to pull away to do just that when his hand cupped her head, dragged her back and the broad, smooth head of his dick hit the back of her throat. She choked, he exhaled in a hoarse groan and, as his quads gently flexed against her forearms, he breathed, ‘Jesus fucking Christ.’

  His strained expletive echoed hotly in her aching core. She felt her breathing quicken, heard Dominic’s muted groans as he began to move again and she experienced a small moment of triumph knowing she could do that to him. The ruthless master of the universe was vulnerable after all. She glanced up. His eyes were shut, his hands pressed against the door, his breathing ragged.

  Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he growled, ‘Don’t stop,’ and her sweet sense of victory was swiftly curtailed. He forced the rhythm again, half choking her for a second until she grabbed one of his balls in warning. He swore, but his grip loosened. ‘Watch it, baby.’ He spoke in a rasp. ‘It’s your toy too.’ Brushing the pad of his finger over the verge of her upper lip, he watched his dick slide in, dragged in a sharp breath at the fantastic rush and then guided the motion more benevolently. Slowly in, her mouth warm and wet, her lips tensile slick as she sucked him in, the explosive jolt as the head of his dick prodded the back of her throat so staggering each time his reflexes were momentarily numbed and he forgot to breathe. Jesus … fuck. Then he’d come round, start breathing again, restlessly watch his dick slide out of her mouth and wait for the next incredible head-banger kick.

  It was unhurried splendour; Dominic wanted it to last. With both feet in the grave he’d still remember these moments, he thought, his low, muffled grunts calibrating the insane bliss, validating Katherine’s truly fuckable mouth.

  Dominic’s deep, guttural intonations, his hoarse pleasure sounds reverberated with primal intensity through Kate’s vulnerable senses, wildly provoked and aroused, as if her body were blindly in sync, as if her carnal passions automatically responded to his voiceless grunts, as if on some Darwinian level she was responding to Dominic as dominant male.

  Her nipples were tight and hard, the throbbing deep inside audacious, her impatience for him, for sex, frenzied. He had only to exert his authority, insist on obedience, and rather than be repulsed, she yielded with shameless anticipation. As if her body had been trained to recognize his cues, to submit without question, to uncompromisingly please him.

  ‘Stop.’ A blunt, grating command, quickly effected, his palms pressing hard against her face, holding her prisoner, his dick filling her mouth.

  Startled, her gaze came up in alarm. The venue, her servile position, Dominic’s unpredictability all wrapped up into a troubling scenario.

  ‘Am I hurting you?’

  His hands were warm on her cheeks, his fingers gently massaging his erection through her skin. She tried to shake her head in answer.

  Whether he understood or her response didn’t matter, he smiled. ‘Do you like it when I have this much power over you? Do you like to service me, baby? I sure as hell like it,’ he murmured, clearly not requiring an answer. ‘Move now,’ he said softly, releasing his grip. ‘Slowly. Oh, fuck … that’s good. You’re learning, baby.’ He slowly exhaled, gently flexed his hips, shut his eyes briefly as she gasped, took him deeper and the world went still for a second. ‘You’re getting good at this,’ he breathed a moment later when his brain started up again. ‘Maybe we could teach you to like it rough. Maybe with enough repetition you’ll learn to like it any way I want.’ Grabbing her chin, he abruptly withdrew his dick, forced her head up. ‘What do you say, baby? You always like to come. You’re willing to do just about anything for that, aren’t you? So you’ll learn, won’t you? Answer me, baby.’ His fingers were leaving marks on her face; she couldn’t move her head. ‘Blink for yes.’

  She dragged in a breath, tried to ignore the hard pulsing between her legs, the powerful raging lust screaming through her senses. A second passed, his fingers bit deeper. She blinked.

  He smiled faintly. ‘Good girl. But then you have a real appetite for fucking, don’t you?’ he said, low-pitched, a strange steely undertone to his comment. Releasing her chin, he smoothed his fingertips over the angry red marks in a considering gesture, as though reviewing his options. Then he leaned over, slid his hands under her arms, lifted her to her feet. ‘Maybe it’s time to teach you some useful skills. Undress for me. Leave your bra on. I like to see my tits bound. Clear?’ Each word was clipped and brusque, uncompromising. ‘Speak, Katherine.’ He dipped his head, his smile wicked. ‘Or blink if you prefer. I’ll get the message.’

  ‘You’re such a prick,’ she hissed even as every shimmering nerve ramped up for action, even as the moist ache of desire was making her desperate.

  ‘But you want it anyway, don’t you, baby?’ he said gently, as if he had X-ray vision and could see her brainwaves, her pulsing core. ‘Answer. You’re wasting valuable fucking time.’

  She hated herself for
wanting him, deep down and visceral, she really did. And for a flashing moment she wondered if she could refuse him. But she wasn’t that self-sacrificing and he wouldn’t let her anyway.

  ‘Yes, you son of a bitch.’

  ‘You swear a lot. We’re going to have to clean up your mouth.’

  ‘Fuck you.’

  His thousand-watt smile was instant and insolent. ‘Moody, but a recognizable verb. As soon as you’re undressed, baby, we’ll work on the fucking lessons.’

  Damn his breathtaking good looks and hard-ass body, his outrageous sex appeal and gigantic dick. Had a woman ever said no to him?

  He lightly tapped her bottom lip in a flagrant gesture of possession. ‘I appreciate your interest, but get rid of the clothes.’ He swept a fingertip along the underside of one breast. ‘Remember, leave the bra on.’

  Lounging against the door, he watched her, his gaze half-lidded while she slid off her shoes, unzipped her jeans, wiggled out of them. He looked amused as she folded her jeans and set them on the vanity. Then slipping off her lace panties, she placed them on her jeans and turned to face him.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Katherine.’ His voice was heated, his gaze in contrast cool, assessing, an obscure emotion shimmering in its depths as he surveyed her standing there small, shapely, her pubic hair gleaming damply between her legs, her big tits straining the fine lace. She looked even more naked with the dark green lace a sharp contrast to her pale skin, the half-undressed image blatantly erotic. The fact that she was standing there on his orders was messed up as hell and incalculably lurid.

  And not just for him.

  She shouldn’t respond so predictably to his orders, so readily, so shamelessly. She shouldn’t instantly capitulate just because he was too beautiful for words, or because some inexplicable crash of endorphins and pheromones spiked through her brain. She should have more sense. But he had only to look at her with that predatory gleam and she was flooded with sharp-set desire, her body dissolved into a lustful puddle of want. And nothing else mattered.