Cherished (3 page)

“What do you mean? You signed it. If you had questions, why didn’t you ask them?”

She held up a hand, determined that sooner or later she’d find her damn tongue.

“Of course I agreed…Xander.” She nearly choked on his name. It seemed disrespectful, and quite honestly, he intimidated her. He was a man who commanded respect and to address him so informally went against every instinct. “And the contract was clear on some matters. S-sex,” she managed to stammer.

“Then what wasn’t clear?”

She took a breath and leveled a stare at him. “What wasn’t clear was why? And how…” She broke off and blushed again. “I don’t mean how in regards to sex. I may be a virgin but I’m not an idiot. It’s just that the contract was very…cold. It said in black and white that for the next six months I belonged to you. Okay, so what does that mean?”

He smiled then, white teeth flashing. His eyes glowed with all those warm, vibrant flecks of color and his look could only be described as possessive.

“I will of course describe in great detail what my expectations are.”

They were interrupted by an older man, short in stature, hurrying in with a tray. He set it on the coffee table in front of Talia and then poured a cup of coffee to offer to Xander.

Xander frowned, refusing the cup. “You were instructed to see to her needs first. Always.”

The older man’s lips tightened as if he were chagrined at having committed the error.

“My apologies, Miss Montforte,” he said.

His accent was British, though she certainly couldn’t place the region. Her ear wasn’t trained to pick up on the many variations of the English accent any more than she could pick out regional accents of the United States.

The man put the cup of coffee down and then poured a glass of ice water for her. On the tray was a variety of pastries, cheeses and fruits.

“Talia, this is Wickersham. He oversees the kitchen staff. He’ll be seeing you later to find out your likes and dislikes, if you have any allergies or sensitivities to certain foods. Feel free to give him a list of your favorite dishes so that he can arrange to have meals to your liking.”

She nodded numbly. This was so…bizarre. She was here
as…Well, she wasn’t entirely certain. So far she was being led to believe she was some honored guest. A far cry from the whore she’d kept labeling herself as so she wouldn’t forget the circumstances of her agreement.

She flinched inwardly. No, not a whore. She was owning her decision. Her choice. She could have walked way. Whatever happened, she was no whore. Having sex didn’t make a woman cheap or tawdry. Making the best of a situation didn’t make her a slut or any of the other words she’d said to herself in order to toughen her mind.

And who was to know anyway? Damn the world. She had what she wanted most. She had her mother, alive and well, recovering! And she had an education and four years in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. She’d seen and experienced things that she’d only dreamed about. Nothing would take those things away from her. It was time to pay the piper. That was all.

“Are you not hungry?” Xander asked.

She looked up, the glass cold in her hand. She was gripping it far too tightly. Wickersham had taken his leave and now there was only her and Xander and those damnable explanations.

“No,” she said, proud of her poise. “I’d rather know what expectations you have of me.”

“It’s quite simple, Talia. You belong to me. I own you. Completely. While you are here you will obey me without question. I decide what you do, what you wear, when you sleep, when you wake.”

Her eyes widened. “You want me to be…submissive.”

“You
will
be submissive in all aspects and without reservation.”

She swallowed nervously. “I—”

“Say what it is you’re thinking, Talia,” he said gently.

“It frightens me.”

He nodded. “That’s understandable. What about it frightens you? Is there a specific fear or is it that you fear having to obey me in general?”

“I don’t know what you’ll ask me to do,” she whispered. “And…I don’t like…pain. I mean and being tied up would scare me, I think.”

He gave her a confused look before understanding dawned. Then he chuckled lightly. “Come here, Talia.”

Her scrambled brain knew this was a command no matter how gently rendered it was and she hurried off the couch to where he sat diagonal to her in the overstuffed armchair.

“Sit,” he directed, pulling her down onto his lap.

As soon as she settled onto his lap, his scent surrounded her, as did his warmth. It was heady. It made her nervous and eager all at the same time.

He touched her face, exploring for a moment the curve of her cheek and then he threaded his fingers into her hair.

His touch was electrifying. Each brush, each point of contact whether purposeful or incidental sent a cascade of chill bumps scurrying across her skin. She wanted to lean into his caress like a cat seeking more attention. She wanted to be stroked and petted. If she reacted so strongly now, what would it be like when they were naked? Skin to skin. His hands on her body.

Her senses surged to life and her nostrils flared, heat pooling low in her groin. There was no doubt she was excited. That she wanted him. Even not knowing fully what would be expected of her, she eagerly awaited the unknown.

He touched her lips, tapping, almost as if he knew she was preoccupied. Only when she turned to look fully at him did he speak.

“You assume because I demand your obedience and your submissiveness that I am asking you to enter into a BDSM relationship complete with whips, chains and God knows what else is running through your head right now. Am I right?”

She bit her lip, suddenly embarrassed. But what was she supposed to have thought? Then she slowly nodded.

He frowned, his lips twisting in distaste, as if the mere thought was reprehensible to him.

“I have no desire to hurt you. Quite the opposite. I want to bring you as much pleasure as you’ll bring me. I have no intention of frightening you either. I have no need to restrain you if you’re obedient. Tying you up would represent a lack of trust on my part. If I ask you to do something, I have every confidence that you’ll do as you’re told without me having to truss you up.”

She sagged as relief lessened the tension in her shoulders. So far this wasn’t going badly at all. Hell, it sounded too good to be true.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let me tell you what you can expect. I am a highly sexual person. I like sex. I like kinky sex. I have no doubt some of my proclivities will shock you. You and I will be having sex frequently in all manner of ways. If I decide I want to have you in the middle of dinner, make no mistake, I’ll bend you over the table and fuck you then and there.”

Her cheeks were going to explode. An odd tightening sensation coiled in her midsection and spread to her nipples until they were hard and pointed. She had to refrain from fidgeting restlessly on his lap as the erotic words brushed over her ears.

“I’ll have your mouth, your pussy and your ass,” he continued in a quiet, firm voice. “There is no part of your body I won’t avail myself of. You belong entirely to me. And as such, what I choose to do with your delectable body is also completely at my discretion.”

She narrowed her eyes in confusion.

He smiled lazily, his eyes glowing as he looked toward the doorway. She glanced up, mortified that three men stood there. Had they heard any part of the conversation?

“And I’ll choose to share you with them,” he said, motioning toward the doorway. “Often.”

Chapter 3

“You’re scaring her,” one of the men drawled as he ambled into the room.

There wasn’t an undertone of deference and it didn’t seem to bother Xander at all. Whoever these men were, they weren’t the typical subordinates.

Talia eyed the three men as she went still in Xander’s arms. He seemed to sense her unease because one hand tightened just above her knee while the other hand soothed up and down her arm as if to calm her nerves.

As if.

These were powerful men in their own right. Hell, maybe they were some type of royalty. Maybe the whole damn island was some posh refuge for exiled princes and the like.

Okay, she was starting to get hysterical even if she was exhibiting no outward signs. But inside her head, she was screaming
what the hell
and fast wondering just what she’d gotten herself into.

This was beyond something as simple as being a mistress. Or whatever the hell word she wanted to call it. Maybe whore hadn’t
been far off the mark though she winced at the mere whisper of the word in her mind.

She was beginning to feel like a…thing. Something purchased, bartered, borrowed. Oh God. It was a revolting thought.

“You better say something damn quick, Xander,” one of the other men said in a grim voice. “She’s looking like she wants to jump out of the window.”

“Perhaps I was a bit too blunt in the explanation of my expectations,” Xander began.

“You think?” the first man said, shaking his head.

Xander sighed and then touched Talia’s cheek so she would turn away from the men to look back at him. “Talia, these are my most trusted men. They act as my security team, but they are much more. They are friends. They are the only ones I trust implicitly. With my life and now yours.”

He gestured to the first one, the one who’d said Xander was scaring her. “This is Garon.”

Garon inclined his head in a nod even as his gaze burned steadily through her. He was…hard. He looked like a hard man. Not much give to him. Even Xander had made somewhat of an effort to make her feel at ease. Garon just kept looking at her with eyes that told her he’d have her soon enough.

“And next to him is Sebastien.”

Sebastien had collected her from the car but she remembered little of her impression of him. She’d been too nervous about arriving and seeing Xander. Now as she studied him, she realized that he wasn’t the sort of man she’d normally overlook. Tall, broad shouldered. Taller than Garon but leaner and not as stocky. Garon was…well, he resembled a boulder. Big and hard. An immovable force. Sebastien had dirty blond hair that was streaked as if he’d spent a lot of time in the sun. Garon’s hair was dark and cut short. He looked like the type who never let it grow even a centimeter longer than the predetermined length. Sebastien…he looked a little more laid-back.

“And last is Nico, who hasn’t yet decided to enter the room apparently,” Xander said dryly.

Nico…He seemed quiet. He’d yet to say a single word. Garon and Sebastien had offered their dry opinions on the matter at hand. But Nico just stood back with those dark eyes and studied her intently like he was seeing right through her soul.

His hair was longer and jet-black. Sleek and shiny, hanging to his shoulders. He wasn’t as tall as the others. He was probably just under six feet but somehow he seemed much bigger. His presence seemed to dominate the room.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Talia,” Nico said in a soft voice.

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do and she sure as hell wasn’t sure whether she was pleased to meet him or the others yet either, so she simply nodded and tried to hold it together until she could make better sense of it all.

“Sit, all of you,” Xander commanded. “You’re making her nervous standing over her. I want her to feel comfortable here.”

Sebastien snorted. “After what I just overheard, you’re going to have to do a hell of a lot more talking for her to feel comfortable.”

Xander shot him a dark scowl but then directed an apologetic look at Talia. “You must forgive my bluntness. I’m not one for dancing around a topic. I thought it best that you know up front precisely what your stay here entails.”

“I agree,” she said faintly. “I do want to know. No surprises. Much better that way.”

Xander touched her skin again, frowning. “You’re cold.”

Was she? She didn’t feel cold. She felt incredibly over warm. In fact, she’d love to throw open the back doors to the patio and breathe in the sea air.

She shook her head to refute his assertion, but he didn’t look convinced and in fact drew her farther into his embrace so their bodies were touching. She was flush against him. And that was
supposed to help? Now she’d spontaneously combust and burn the whole darn villa down.

After a moment where he seemed to consider whether he should continue, he directed her gaze back to him.

“There are rules, and I hate to use such a cold, austere word. Perhaps we should again go back to expectations. You will find I like things a certain way. I have a regimen that I follow.”

Garon chuckled and said irreverently, “You’re an anal bastard, Z, just admit it.”

Xander shot him a quelling look and then turned his attention back to Talia. “You may wonder why we aren’t having this conversation in private.”

She nodded before she could stop herself. She was very much wondering why she had to suffer this embarrassment. She’d never felt so uncomfortable and vulnerable in her life.

“Because they are in large part responsible for enforcing my expectations.”

She peeked nervously at where they’d taken seats across from and catty-corner to where Xander sat in the armchair with her draped across his body. If what he was saying was what she thought he was saying…holy hell.

“It’s really not complicated,” Xander said calmly. “You’ll take direction from me—and them as an extension of me. You’ll never have to wonder whether you’re performing to expectation because there will always be someone to guide you. You’ll be apprised of some things from the start. The important things. The rest you’ll learn as you go. I’ve already stated this isn’t some sort of BDSM arrangement where we keep you tethered and crop you every time you step out of line.”

At that, Nico frowned, his brows drawing together as if he found the very idea repugnant.

“And what are these things?” she asked, impatient to get to the point.

Xander drew in a breath. Good Lord, but he looked like he was readying himself to deliver a speech. Were there that many rules?