Exposed by Fate (15 page)

Caroline looked like she might break out into applause. She signed the documents and handed the pen to her father. “You heard the man.”

He grumbled under his breath the entire time, but their father managed to put his signature in all the required spots. When he finished, he turned to leave the kitchen. “Caroline, I have some issues to discuss with you privately.”

She wanted to decline, Oliver could see that. They were equal business partners, but his father trusted Caroline more when it came to personal matters. Hell, everything. That’s how it would always be, and he’d resigned himself to it. “I’ll make some coffee and be right in,” his sister muttered.

He devoured the sight of Eliza as soon as Caroline turned her back to fuss with the coffee. “How’s the club, Caroline? Jonah?” he asked to distract her.

“Great.” A drawer opened and shut, but he could barely hear it over his pulse. Would it be obvious if he just walked past Eliza and stroked her smooth inner thigh under the island? “Actually, Eliza and I were at Serve last Friday.”

“Really.” He hadn’t known that. Didn’t fucking like it. Why hadn’t she told him? It wasn’t exactly a destination for girl’s night out. “Good crowd?”

Eliza went still, which worried him even more. “Great crowd, as usual,” she hurried to say. “Jonah asked me to redec—”

“Oooh,” Caroline broke in. “Tell Oliver about your admirer. What was his name? Porter something? The guy was ready to club you over the head and take you back to his man cave.”

The ache that had been throbbing behind his eye since yesterday spread, encompassing his entire skull. Around him, the kitchen closed in. His limbs felt heavy, his chest tight. “Is that so?”

“She’s exaggerating.” Eliza’s skin had gone pale. “We talked for a few minutes.”

Caroline turned and gave Eliza a sly look. “But you sure made those minutes count. I never knew you were such a flirt.”

Leaving that final line hanging in the air, his sister picked up two coffee mugs and sailed out of the room. Oliver wasted no time closing the distance between him and the object of his lust. His misery. His need. His everything.

“You didn’t follow the rules, Eliza.”

Chapter Nineteen

Eliza didn’t have a chance to prepare before Oliver’s hands found her ass and hauled her off the ground against his hard body. She thought he was going to kiss her, was
dying
to be kissed, but he didn’t. Instead, he walked them back through a doorway she’d never been through. He didn’t bother turning on the light, but she could tell, thanks the faint moonlight trickling in, that they were in an enclosed porch, one that overlooked the backyard.

Then she stopped giving a damn where they were because Oliver demanded all of her attention. He was
mad
. It shocked her into staying silent, so unusual was it for her to see him angry. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d
never
seen him anything put mildly put-out. His shoulders and chest muscles were so rigid with tension, they shook against her. His teeth were bared in a way that suggested he might bite if provoked. Yet, she wasn’t scared. Not for a single second.

No, she was
pissed
. How dare he get mad at her for talking to Porter? He couldn’t even walk through a room or cross a street without fielding a marriage proposal. Wasn’t the whole point of this arrangement to prepare her for men like Porter? Underneath her outrage, though, lay the real reason for her ire. She’d fallen for this man, fallen flat on her silly, naïve face, and he wanted to discuss rules? God, she’d never wanted to punch someone more than she did at that moment. Just to see him in a fraction of the pain she would be in leaving his apartment tomorrow night. Or maybe he didn’t even want her there now. Was that to be her consequence for simply talking to Porter? Fear eclipsed her anger momentarily, but when he leaned in and nipped her bottom lip, it came rushing back.

“
Put me down
.”

He released her bottom, grunting as she slid down his body. As soon as her feet hit the floor, he pinned her to the wall and buried his face in her neck. “You’ve never needed to remember your safe word more than you do right now, Eliza. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“I do.” She could barely hear him over the flood of emotions. “You’ve started taking this too far. I know there are rules for a reason, but I only talked to him. Nothing happened.”

With a shake of his head, he met her gaze, but it looked fevered, lost. Nothing like Oliver. “It’s like it doesn’t even matter. I don’t want anyone fucking
near
you.” He ground his head against the wall over her shoulder. “God, you were
flirting
with him?”

Hope took flight in her sternum. It was a dangerous thing, that hope, but his behavior far exceeded a Dominant being upset over his rules being broken. This wasn’t a scene or a game. His possessive attitude came from a different place. Was it possible he felt something more than attraction for her? Hope’s wings beat faster. Digging deeper would require some stealth. If she was wrong, if this was merely a case of his ego being bruised, she didn’t want to reveal herself. Her feelings for him.

“Oliver, we decided this would be casual.” She listened to his breathing slow. “Has something changed…for you?”

“Why?” His gaze bored into hers, colder than she’d ever seen it. “The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can be with him, right? Put all the skills I’ve taught you to use?” He nudged her belly with his erection. “Well, I’m not done fucking you yet. I need more time.”

All about sex. This is all about sex for him. Sex and ego.
He couldn’t stand the idea of her wanting someone else. It had nothing to do with him wanting her back. “Sorry, playboy. Rules are rules. One more lesson and we’re done.”

A broken sound fell past his lips and twisted something sharp inside of her. The fact that she could still hurt for him when he’d just proven himself a self-entitled jerk, told her she must have fallen even harder than she thought. How long would it take to get over this man? Would she ever? The questions were shoved aside when Oliver pulled her off the wall and spun her toward the middle of the porch. When she came to an oversized chest, he gripped her hips to stop her. His movements were controlled, precise now, as opposed to jerky and desperate as they were moments ago.

“This does
not
count as our final lesson, Eliza.” He pushed her forward until her palms smacked down onto the cool surface of the chest, leaving her bent over, backside in the air. A thrill of anticipation raced across her skin, subduing her anger like sand on a fire. “Do you understand me?”

Oh, Lord
. What was he going to do? Caroline and Mr. Preston were only a few rooms away and could return at any time.
Would
return. When that realization only increased her traitorous excitement, she knew she was in trouble. She wasn’t going anywhere. Still, she needed to hold some part of herself back. Both times they’d been together, she’d thrown her inhibitions up in the air and let them scatter like a deck of playing cards. She’d bared herself completely and look where it had gotten her. This time, she would take the pleasure and run.

The longer she stood in the vulnerable position, the harder she throbbed between her thighs. Knowing Oliver stood a scant few inches from her presented bottom stole her breath, made her feel incredibly flushed from head to toe. Finally, she answered him, unable to wait another second. “Yes, Oliver. I understand. This isn’t a lesson.”

“Oh, it’s a lesson. It’s just not your last.” Rough hands wrenched the skirt up and over her hips. His rumbling growl jolted her heart into beating double-time. He squeezed the flesh of her right cheek in his hand, tight…
.tighter
…before letting it go and slapping it.

Eliza gasped, her arms nearly buckling beneath her. Such a small action, a mild strike of her backside, yet she felt as if she’d just broken the surface of an ocean, breathing oxygen for the first time in hours. Years. Her nerve endings crackled to life, begging for another hit of their wonder drug. “Please do it again. Oliver,
please
.”

He trailed his fingers down her back and tangled them in her hair. The move pressed his lap against her ass, his heavy erection nestling in the valley of her backside. He gave a quick thrust of his hips. Just one, but it sent a bolt of pure heat to her core. “You know what I was doing last Friday night, while you were out pursuing other men?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but his palm came down on her ass, harder than before. The force of it sent a sob tumbling from her mouth. She went up on her tiptoes and arched her back.
So good, so good. More.

“I’ll tell you what I was doing.” The hand in her hair tightened and yanked. “I had my cock in my hand, jerking myself blind to a picture of you in a white bikini. From that week we all spent in the Hamptons your senior year. I pictured you on your hands and knees in the sand, me giving it to you hard enough from behind to work your tits free of that top.”

He spanked her ass again. This time it was hard enough to vibrate through her, make her teeth click together. Between her thighs, the ache became unbearable. She couldn’t come like this, could she? Every time his hand connected with her willing flesh, she drew a little closer to the edge of a perilous cliff. One that she suspected would have an interminably long fall. Her eyes saw nothing, staring into space and waiting for his next slap. It consumed all her focus.
Again. Again. Need it.

“I noticed this little gap of daylight between the tops of your thighs and your pussy.” The hand he was using to spank her delved between her legs and cupper her moist center. Squeezed. “My tongue wants to
live
in that hot, little gap. Thinking about it made me come every”—
slap
—“single”
—
slap
—“time.”

Eliza’s knees dipped under the force of her arousal. “Oh, God. Oliver, keep going…I’m—”

Oliver cut her off, talking in that low, hypnotic voice. “We had a deal, Eliza. Mine until the lessons are completed.” He released her hair and trailed his fingers down her back, over her hip to slip between her legs. Very gently, he tugged her thong to one side and planted two fingers deep inside her. She moaned, fingers curling against the chest as Oliver drew his fingers in and out of her, coating her in moisture. “
Mine
. What does that word mean to you?”

“I don’t…I’m not—”

Slap.
“It means other men don’t get the pleasure of your time. They don’t get to look at the body that shakes underneath
me
. They don’t get to hear the voice that screams
my
fucking name.”

His fingers circled her clit with exquisite care, almost reverently, while his hand continued to rain blows down on the sensitized flesh of her bottom. The contrast made her crazed, frantic. She didn’t know which of his ministrations to concentrate on. She couldn’t concentrate at all. Her hands were holding her body up to receive the spanking, but she couldn’t feel them. The tightening in her thighs and belly became her reason for living.

Her core began to clench so intensely, her legs finally lost the battle and gave out. Oliver moved so quickly, her world tilted and blurred. It righted itself when he sat down on the chest and threw her over his knee. Impatient hands shoved her thighs open, and he delivered a series of sharp slaps to her wet center, directly over her throbbing clit. Over and over, until her body locked up and her flesh started to spasm almost violently in her climax.

A scream wouldn’t be contained, but Oliver managed to clamp a hand over her mouth at the last second, muffling the noise.

“That’s what you needed, babe. Needed to have your pussy spanked, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she moaned into his palm, her body still wracked by shudders.

He pushed his middle finger inside her and groaned. “You’re milking my finger, greedy girl.” Eliza couldn’t believe it when her sex clenched again, preparing for more pleasure. How could she want more of him when she’d just been pleasured so thoroughly? In this position, she could feel his demanding erection, straining against her belly.
Needs me. Want to please him. Need him.
She circled her hips, praying he’d push his thick finger even deeper, but he withdrew it on a dark laugh. He brought the finger to her mouth and spread wetness across her lips, before working it past them. “Such an innocent looking mouth. I want to come inside of it.”

It amazed her, the swift compulsion to grant his wish. She’d never felt such a strong desire to do this for a man in the past. Now, she craved it beyond belief. Craved Oliver. The weight of him on her tongue. She wanted to please him, drive him past the brink. Wanted to…apologize with her mouth. That realization brought her up short. Rational Eliza knew she didn’t owe him an apology for speaking with another man, but this submissive part of her loved the idea of him being happy with her. Loved the idea of him forgiving her because she’d pleased him.

Confusion and doubt warred inside her, but they couldn’t surmount her lust. It loomed like a giant, ready to take down everything in its path. She slipped off Oliver’s lap and knelt before him, pulse raging out of control at the sight of the massive bulge between his legs. Her hands itched to squeeze and stroke his aching flesh, but first she needed to make this okay for herself. She didn’t want any doubts ruining the moment for her.

Oliver’s chest heaved beneath his dress shirt, his gaze on fire as it centered on her lips. “I am going to ride your mouth, Eliza. Your lying, little mouth.”

“Kiss me first,” she said on an exhale, horrified at the hitch in her voice. “You haven’t kissed me since…since we danced. I don’t need romance, but—”

His arm banded around her waist and dragged her up against him. She only had a split second to glimpse his expression before his mouth began to devour her own.
Shattered
. He’d look completely shattered
.
No, that couldn’t be right. He was just frustrated because she wasn’t down on her knees yet. Just like every girl he’d had a physical relationship with. That had to be why his mouth moved so hard over hers, it forced her head back. He slanted his mouth over hers, head tilted to the side so he could get his tongue deep. Her moans were as involuntary as the renewed quickening between her thighs. Oliver made a gruff sound, clutching her tighter to his chest. The passion of it threatened to carry her away, to make her forget what he wanted from her. Even though she wanted to stay in his arms forever, let him kiss away every insecurity in her head, she knew it would kill her. Tears burning behind her eyes, she wedged her hands between them and shoved him back. Immediately, he made a grab for her, hands shaking as they tried to drag her back, but she slapped them away.

“More, Eliza?” He grated. “You want more?
Get over here
.”

Her instincts demanded she obey him, but inside she knew it would destroy her if he kissed her again. Desperate to distract herself, distract Oliver, she dropped back to her knees and dragged her open mouth up the ridge of his arousal. A harsh groan from Oliver shot her full of blistering heat. The urge to satisfy him hadn’t gone away. It probably never would.

Starving for the sight of him, she grappled with his belt buckle, sliding the leather through his pants loops and lowering his zipper. She reached her hand inside the opening and drew him out, stomach muscles seizing, nipples hardening at the magnificence of him. Smooth, thick and crying out for her mouth. Pleasure he needed her to provide.