“This is crazy,” she muttered. When she moved to leave the bed, Mike shifted to block her. She tried to change positions a second time in order to avoid him, but between one breath and the next, Mike straddled her hips. Her eyes went wide at the
snap
of the clips holding the braces to Mike’s trousers being released. Leather hissed against silk sheets. In a split second, he expertly bound her wrists above her head with one strap of the suspenders and secured the other strap to the bed frame, all before Lyssa could figure out his intent.
“Don’t fuck with me, baby,” Mike warned as he stripped away her shoes and stockings before returning his attention to shedding his own clothing.
“Damn it, Michael. Are you insane? Let me go!” Lyssa snarled as she twisted on the sheets.
Using her stockings, Mike tied first one ankle, then the next to the bedposts. Worse yet, instead of pissing her off, it turned her on. The folds of her pussy grew damp and swollen; the first telltale beads of moisture slipped from her core to wet the silk beneath her.
Embarrassed but excited too, Lyssa prayed Mike wouldn’t take note of her peaked nipples or increased heartbeat.
But no one was listening to her prayers, least of all Mike as he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his socks. He shrugged out of his shirt before shucking his tuxedo pants.
Now that he was gloriously naked, Lyssa could see for the first time the reason her body had ached for nearly a week after their last intimate encounter. The thick length of his erection easily reached his navel, and she seriously doubted her fingers would touch one another if she tried to wrap her hand around his impressive girth. In addition to his size, the tattoo that decorated the skin below his navel also decorated the golden flesh of his cock, which was both alluring and frightening at the same time.
“Tell me what you were doing here tonight, Lys,” Mike ordered as he moved to the armoire facing the bed. Mirrors covered the doors, but Mike’s body blocked Lyssa’s view of the images reflected there.
“Go to hell, Mike,” Lyssa replied, the sneer on her face contradicting the sweet tone of her voice. No way was she going to divulge her plan. Especially to him.
Quit looking at his ass
! She squeezed her eyes shut, but the image of the muscles flexing in his thighs and buttocks rolled across her closed eyelids. The thought of sinking her teeth into the taut flesh sent the tip of her tongue coasting over her bottom lip before she could curb the fantasy.
“That’s one.”
Her eyes popped open, and Lyssa fought the urge to ask,
One what
? as Mike carried several items to the bed and laid them on the silk counterpane at her hip.
“Tell me.”
The cuffs and ties weren’t unfamiliar to Lyssa. In the scenes she’d negotiated with Ben and Vance, she’d had occasion to wear similar bindings. She wasn’t naive.
Considering the calm, methodical way in which Mike was replacing his impromptu restraints with the more secure bindings, it looked as if she’d have to come up with a plausible cause if she wanted to get out of here. To indulge her fantasy of another night under Mike’s command would destroy tonight’s plans for a baby. It had taken her this long simply to recover from their two brief episodes together and from Mike’s disregard. Another time similar to those and she might as well give up. Hang a sign of surrender around her neck and let Mike use her any way he wanted. And he would…until he realized what all the other men in her past had known—that she wasn’t worth it—and walked away. Leaving her alone and shattered again.
Eyes closed, she drew a deep breath. After counting to ten, she exhaled, opened her eyes, and glared up at the ceiling. The disgruntled expression on her face was visible in the mirror mounted above the bed. “You can stop the big, bad dom routine now,” Lyssa huffed.
“No.”
Dropping her attention to the nonchalant way Mike was settling the leather cuffs around her wrists, then securing them to the length of cable bolted to the wall behind the headboard, Lyssa hurried through her false confession. If she pissed him off enough, perhaps he’d leave her alone. Release her. The best possible scenario would be if Dayton was still downstairs and unattached so she could approach him.
She nixed that idea. Nope, after the scene Mike had made in the Club, she doubted she’d convince any dom to take her as a submissive. She’d have to go with Baby Plan B. Cold and clinical, but at least she wouldn’t have to bear the touch of any man who was not Mike.
Mike lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers. “Tell me why you came tonight.”
Keep it under control. Don’t let him know
. “I wanted a man,” she told him. It wasn’t a lie. Her intent tonight had been to find a man.
That seemed to get his attention, but only for a moment. Mike continued moving after a momentary hesitation. “Congratulations. You got one.” The smile lifting his lips wasn’t a reassuring one. “Me.”
A tiny quake undulated through her at the stroke of his hand along her calf as he adjusted the spread of her thighs. Lyssa gritted her teeth and fought the urge to growl at the confidence in his voice.
Piss him off. Make him let you go
. “I said a man, not a boy.”
He searched her face, then held her gaze. “I’m almost a year older than Kringle, Lys. That would make him a boy as well.” Nothing in his expression gave away his feelings on the matter, but the tightness of his lips and the narrowing of his eyes hinted at his rising irritation. “If you were really hoping to shag Dayton tonight, you would have been disappointed,” Mike informed her coolly. He removed the suspender strap from her wrists once the bindings settled into place.
“What do you mean?” Lyssa asked, intent on frustrating Mike so much with her ridicule that he’d let her go.
God, don’t let him touch me again before he lets me loose. He’ll never believe I don’t want him once he really touches me
. “How can you doubt it was him I wanted? The costume was for him. He seemed very attracted. The conversation you interrupted was going along smoothly—”
“Kringle is careful about his partners, Lyssa. He learns everything there is to know about them. If he ever selects a sub at the masquerade, he doesn’t touch her. He tests her and he challenges her, but he doesn’t fuck her.” He settled onto the edge of the mattress next to her left hip. “He wouldn’t have taken you to bed tonight.”
She ignored the shudder of relief Mike’s revelation sent through her. Images of Dayton touching her sent chills through her body. “He seemed interested.” Lyssa turned her attention from ignoring the truth she hated to admit and focused on not reacting to how close Mike sat to her.
Although she’d done her homework, that little fact about Kringle had eluded her. Lyssa tensed as she watched Mike rise from the bed and move to her ruined dress. The crackle of cellophane whispered from the velvet as he lifted it from the floor. Lyssa could have cursed. She’d forgotten about the doctored condoms she’d brought with her. Discomfited, she gnawed on her bottom lip and refused to acknowledge the kernel of regret growing inside her as she watched Mike, waiting for a reaction.
Mike pulled the packets free of the cloth and held them in the palm of his hand. Anger glittered in his eyes. Perhaps it was merely her imagination, but Lyssa sensed disappointment in his gaze as well. She ignored the tiny voice connected to the part of her that wanted Mike, the part that had ached to be with him for what seemed like forever. “Untie me and let me get back to what I was doing before you butted in where you weren’t wanted.”
Mike moved back to the bed and dropped the prophylactics onto her bare belly. “No.” His fingers checked the fit of the cuffs and cords restraints. “It would be a shame to let all your preparations for the evening go to waste.” Graceful bastard that he was, Mike climbed onto the bed and settled on his knees between her splayed legs. “If you need a man, you get me.”
“I’ve already had you, Mike. Time to move on. Try someone new.” She hissed as his hands stroked up the inside of her thighs.
“Now you’ve earned a second punishment, Lyssa,” he informed her.
His expression and tone were so matter-of-fact, Lyssa realized just how serious he was about punishing her. “First off, Mike, let’s remember you don’t own me…”
“Are you trying to go for three?”
“You are insane,” Lyssa snapped, tugging at the restraints and twisting against the sheets.
“But,” Mike continued as if she hadn’t even spoken, “I’m willing to let it go because you’ve been a good sub and kept yourself waxed for me.”
At the heat in his fingertips and the rasp of callused pads over her sensitive flesh, Lyssa arched involuntarily into his touch. She couldn’t deny the sensations running through her. She’d be lying if she said her fast, shallow breaths weren’t a result of the slow stroke of his fingers over her nude mound. It was harder still to fight the moan welling in her chest when her reactions brought a wicked smile to his lips.
Wanting to wipe the smug, self-satisfied look from his face, Lyssa snorted. “I did no such thing!” The lie fell smoothly from her lips. It had pleased her to indulge in trips to the spa with Mattie. The fact that the command he’d whispered in her ear that night in the closet prompted the first visit was a moot point.
“We’ll work on your honesty another time, honey.” Two thick fingers spread her nether lips, opening her to his view. “Right now, I’m going to set the ground rules.” Two digits on his other hand slipped into her wet channel, pressing against the taut muscles, searching for the sweet spots he’d instinctively found the last time he’d touched her. “Rule number one: I don’t share. Ever. So no other men.”
The heat in his gaze matched the heat his fingers were building between her thighs. Crying out as he pulled free, then returned, this time using three fingers to stretch her delicate flesh, Lyssa made note of every word he said, locking them away so she could somehow use them as a cudgel to beat away the temptation Mike represented. This couldn’t last. The heat, the passion would burn itself out, and he’d go back to his life, his career. Just like last time. He’d never want what she wanted. A baby. A family.
“Rule number two: I tell you when you’ve had enough. If I think you need to be fucked every hour on the hour for a week, then that’s what you’ll get.”
“What about a safe word?” Her voice was shaky and breathless. Lyssa cringed inside at the hint of excitement in her tone. She should be fighting this, not savoring the sting and heat coiling inside her as his thumb coasted over the tender knot of nerves peeking from beneath its hood.
Lyssa trembled at the sight of his body poised over hers, her paler legs bound open as he knelt between them. His fingers pushed into her body, then pulled out, her cream coating his skin. She jerked her gaze from the erotic reflection in the mirror above the bed.
“Now that we’ve established you understand who’s in charge, yes, I’ll select a safe word.” Mike never lifted his gaze from the movements of his fingers as he caressed her sensitive flesh.
“I choose
ass
,” Lyssa snapped, unable to keep her gaze from drifting back to the view above her.
Mike shook his head. “Not a democracy, darlin’. I make the rules. You follow them. I’ll choose the safe word. Something you wouldn’t normally blurt out.”
“I know the purpose of a safe word,” Lyssa grumbled, her senses on edge as his fingers teased a particularly sensitive spot deep inside her and his head lowered over her breasts. At the sharp nip of his teeth against a tightly beaded nipple, she arched closer to him, driving his fingers deeper within her. Her head swam with the sensations, her eyes fixed on the mirror overhead, adding visual stimuli to the damp heat of his mouth on her breast, the sting of his fingers stretching muscles that had been empty for too long. Again Lyssa forced her attention from the mirror to Mike. In a ragged voice, she suggested, “How about
worm
?”
Mike simply looked at her. His gaze drifted from her flushed cheeks to the rapid rise and fall of her breasts and finally to the curve of her belly. “Dragon,” he said. “Our safe word is ‘dragon.’”
Her heart slammed against her ribs as he leaned back on his haunches. He wrapped one hand around his straining penis and lifted his other hand away from her pussy. Her juices glistened on three of his fingers. He opened his mouth and sucked the moisture free. The gleam in his eyes and the way his dark chocolate irises deepened to black sent a shiver skidding along her spine. Involuntarily she tugged at her restraints. The condom packages slid off her stomach onto the bedding next to her. “O-okay,” she stammered.
“Now, there’s one more rule for you to remember,” Mike intoned softly.
Lyssa dipped her head in a small nod and waited. God, she needed to fight this. There was no way she could allow him to know how much she lov—wanted him to take control. She breathed deep and slow, trying to calm the fire in her blood.
Mike grinned down at her and picked up one of the black wrappers. “Appreciate the reminder, love,” he teased, tearing the package open and rolling the latex tube into place. He crouched over her, arms braced on the bed beside her shoulders, and the heated length of his cock slid through the wet lips of her sex before finding her entrance and pressing in. He continued. “Rule number three: this body is mine. Pussy, ass, breasts, lips”—his fingers slipped over each body part as he listed it—“everything belongs to me. To use as I see fit. In any way I want.”
His firm shaft moved deeper, forcing her pulsing flesh to submit to his presence. She gasped. He fisted his hands in her hair, and his mouth hovered over her parted lips. He held her gaze as he forged onward, burying himself completely in her tight sheath. “Do you understand? Everything—all of it. All of you belongs to me.”
His first stroke vibrated through her. She arched up into his arms, pressing her mouth against his even as he drew her into his kiss. The flavor of her arousal mingled with his unique taste as his tongue coaxed hers into play. Winding around and over it, he seduced her response even as his body attempted to force hers to admit his dominance, his ownership.