Authors: Cheryl Douglas
“I do now.”
“When we’re in the bedroom and I ask you to do something, it’s because I want to maximize your pleasure. I will push you out of your comfort zone sometimes, ask you to do things in the name of experimentation that you’ve never done, but I’ll never insist you do anything you don’t want to do. You can always say no. You know that, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” I tipped her head up so I could kiss her lips. “I don’t want a submissive woman. I want a strong, sexy lover who can give as good as she gets, a partner who isn’t afraid to challenge me and let me have it when I deserve it.”
Her eyes glimmered with amusement. “I don’t think I’ll have a problem with that.”
“Having said that…” I tried to choose my words carefully, wanting to avoid any confusion. “I will expect certain things from you.”
“What kind of things?” she asked, sounding hesitant.
“What happened tonight can
never
happen again.”
She cringed before burrowing deeper into my arms. “It won’t. I swear.”
“When I ask you not to go somewhere I consider dangerous or wear something I consider too risqué, I’ll ask that you respect my wishes.”
She sat up, her mouth hanging open. “You’re the king of sexy clothes! Just look at any of the Alabaster’s catalogues. Women wear those clothes with one intent: to look and feel sexy! Now you’re telling me you don’t want me to dress that way? That’s ridiculous!”
She had a valid point. Women loved our clothes because they were risqué. They were perfect for a night on the town, but I didn’t want my woman parading around town looking as though she was on the prowl.
“Our clothes appeal to a certain demographic,” I said, trying a different approach. “Single women who are looking to attract the opposite sex.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got news for you, Deacon. Even married women wear lingerie and bikinis.”
“You’re right, and you’re more than welcome to wear lingerie for me or a bikini when I’m walking beside you on the beach, holding your hand.” I knew that would be a deal-breaker for many women, but I refused to let this point of contention destroy us. “I’ll gladly hire a stylist who can help you find clothes you love…” I cleared my throat. “That we both love.”
“Let me get this straight.” She leaned forward as she used one hand to keep her thick waves off her face. “You want to take me shopping and approve my wardrobe choices?”
“Yes.”
“That’s over the top, even for you.”
“In my business, I have to attend a lot of events, even when I don’t want to,” I said, trying to explain my position without offending her. I’d never worked so hard to placate a woman. “Naturally, I’ll want you to accompany me. There are certain expectations at these galas. There’s a uniform, if you will. Women are expected to wear elegant evening gowns. Trashy cocktail dresses aren’t an option.” I winced when I realized how judgmental that sounded.
“Trashy?” She sounded embarrassed. “You mean like the dress I wore tonight? I’ll have you know that wasn’t some cheap—”
“I’m not implying it was. This isn’t about the price tag. It’s about the message it conveys. That dress screamed available, and you’re not. Can’t you see a problem with that?”
“I suppose,” she said reluctantly, laying her head back on my shoulder.
“Good. Then you’ll let me take you shopping?”
“It’s not like I have a choice,” she muttered.
I laughed. “You always have a choice, sweetheart.” I brushed my hand through her silky hair. “You don’t have to act like it’s such an imposition. Most women would be thrilled their rich boyfriend was offering to take them on a shopping spree.”
“I don’t want this relationship to be about money,” she said quietly. “I get that you’re rich, that you can buy anything you want, but I’m not for sale.”
“Is that what you think?” I lifted her head until she was forced to look me in the eye. “That I’m doing all of this because I’m trying to impress you, to buy your love and affection?”
“It’s not uncommon for rich older men to shower their young girlfriends with expensive gifts to keep them interested, is it?”
“Ouch.” I grimaced. “I’m not
that
old, and I know I don’t have to buy you gifts to keep you interested. I know I’m man enough to keep any woman interested without the accoutrements.”
“That you are,” she said, grinning. “Fine, we’ll do it your way. On this one point, I’ll concede. We’ll shop ‘til we find me a Deacon-approved wardrobe.”
“There’s one more thing,” I said, knowing I was probably pushing my luck.
“What’s that?”
“Let’s talk about where all these new clothes will be delivered.”
I heard the sharp intake of breath before she said, “They’ll be delivered to my apartment, of course.”
“Theia, I want you to move in with me.”
Mia
After the night we’d had, I didn’t want to argue anymore, but I wasn’t ready to live with him. If my experience with Drew had taught me one thing, it was that living with a man changed the dynamic of the relationship. They went from being caring, attentive boyfriends to little boys who expected you to tend to their every need, from picking up their dirty underwear off the floor to cooking their meals and packing their lunches. Of course, Deacon had a staff to do those things for him, but he obviously had other expectations of me. Besides, I was looking forward to living on my own and being independent. If I got lonely, I could always take Eleni up on her offer to be roommates, but for the time being, I was content with things as they were.
“I’m not moving in with you, Deacon.”
“I want it all with you,” he said, lowering his head to kiss my neck.
He was trying to manipulate me using my body’s shameless reaction to his touch, but it wouldn’t work. I was more resilient than that. Hopefully.
“I want to spend every night with you. I want to have breakfast and dinner with you.” His kisses became more purposeful, more passionate. “I want to know you’ll be waiting for me when I get home. I want to know that when you go out, like you did tonight, you’ll come home to me.”
When he kissed me like that, it was difficult to remember my legitimate reasons for avoiding a serious commitment. I loved the man, but I needed to maintain my own identity. Getting sucked into the vortex of his world would be too easy, and if I did, there would be no escape. Women like me didn’t just walk away from men like Deacon Starkis.
Ever.
At twenty-three, the prospect of forever was too daunting for me to contemplate, even though I couldn’t imagine ever finding another man who made me feel the way he did.
He slipped a finger inside me, followed by another, which he glided in and out slowly. He watched my face for signs he was wearing me down. “I want to see a huge diamond on your finger… my engagement ring. I want the world and every man in it to know you’re mine.”
I couldn’t deny his possessiveness was crazy hot. Even though his methods were a little unconventional, no woman alive could have denied she would be as turned on as I was listening to the litany of commitments he wanted from me.
“I want to do this to you every morning and night.”
I whimpered. “Yes…” That was so unfair, using my body against me, but of course my man was a master at getting exactly what he wanted.
“I don’t just want to tell you I love you—I want to show you. Every day, in every way.” His words were coming faster, in concert with my sporadic gasps. “I want to take you around the world, show you the wonders, and make all of your dreams come true.”
“Yes, oh God, yes.” I wasn’t agreeing, only responding to the way he was working so hard to bring me unparalleled pleasure.
“I can’t wait to get you pregnant. To watch my baby grow inside you… proof of our love. Proof that you’ll always be mine.”
His fierce whisper was all it took to send me hurtling over the edge. “Deacon… yes….” My muscles clenched, my limbs trembled, and my heels dug into the mattress as I clutched his wrist, silently begging him to stop while I dreaded that he would. My orgasm seemed to go on forever. My heart was beating so hard and fast that I feared I would pass out.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, kissing my cheeks, my lips, and my closed eyes as he rubbed my stomach. “So perfect. My goddess.”
As things came back in to focus, I stared at him, struck by the fact he was saying to me exactly what I was thinking about him. So beautiful. So perfect. And all mine. “I love you.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “So much.”
“And I love you.” He kissed me tenderly, a smile playing at his lips. “When you came here tonight, I was so furious. I was so convinced the only thing that would make me feel better was punishing you.”
“Punishing me? I’m almost afraid to ask what that might have entailed.” I couldn’t deny that a part of me wondered what my sexy psycho might have had in store for me—as long as it didn’t involve the belt. That was where I had to draw the line.
“It doesn’t matter now.” He kissed me deeply, as though he savored the simple act and intended to draw it out as long as he could before we both had to breathe. “You proved something to me tonight.”
“What’s that?” I brushed my fingers over the few strands of silver hair I saw peeking through the black at his temples.
“I thought punishing you would make me feel better. Turns out I was wrong.”
“You were wrong?” My lips twitched. “I should record that for posterity. Who knows when I might hear it again?”
He rolled me toward him so he could smack my butt, prompting him to grin when I squealed. “Talking to you, telling you how I felt and what I wanted, reaching a compromise we could both live with—that made me feel better.”
“I’m glad.” I kissed him thoroughly. “It made me feel better too.”
“Knowing you want the same things I do.” He kissed my neck. “That we’re on the same page about our future makes me so happy. You have no idea, theia.”
Huh?
I racked my brain, trying to remember what he’d said, what I’d agreed to, while he’d had me on the precipice of a mind-shattering orgasm. Surely he couldn’t hold me to that. I’d been out of my mind, desperate for release. He had to know I was under the influence… of his power and persuasion? Yes. Definitely as mind-altering as any drug or alcohol.
Deacon climbed on top of me before I could explain. He prodded me with his hardness, rubbing the engorged head against my sensitive flesh, making me moan and beg and plead once again. I really was a shameful slave to my body, especially when he was the one masterfully pulling the strings.
“Hmmm…” He used my arousal to coat his hard shaft. “You want that, sweetheart? You want me?”
“Yes.” I was insatiable. I’d just come, yet I was hungry for another orgasm. Knowing he was the only one who could give it to me, I gripped his powerful biceps, prepared to plead. “Deacon, I need—”
“I know what you need, gorgeous,” he said, thrusting deep inside me with one powerful lunge. “You need me. Filling you. Completing you. Pleasuring you. Reminding you that nothing feels as good as this.”
“Yes…” He was right, so right. Nothing compared to that feeling. I’d had no idea sex could make me feel so… complete. When he was inside me, he filled a void I hadn’t even known had been there.
“I can’t get enough of you.” He groaned, plunging into me forcefully, as his hands dug into my hips. “It’ll never be enough.”
I only hoped
I
would be enough. After what I’d learned about him, I still had my reservations, but I couldn’t let my insecurities rob me of pleasure. I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, but tonight he seemed intent on leading me to a new zenith of bliss.
Before I understood his intent, he flipped me over and positioned me on my hands and knees, as he’d demanded earlier. He rammed into me relentlessly, rough and harsher than ever. “Tell me… I’m… the only… one you want.”
I knew his mind was still on what had happened earlier. I wanted to erase the image from his memory, but it was nearly impossible to find the right words when his body was thrashing into mine, the clapping sound echoing as he grunted with exertion.
“Tell me!” His cry was almost animalistic and frantic, as though he
needed
my reassurance.
“You’re the… only one… I want.” I was panting and gasping, trying to suck enough air into my lungs to form the words he needed to hear. “You’re the man… I want… to share my body with.”
He seized me around the waist with one hand while grazing my tender core rhythmically with the other until I cried out in expectation. Instead of rewarding me with another blissful climax, he retreated, leaving me hanging from the cliff.
“What are you… doing?” I tried to put his hand back where it belonged, but he’d moved on to my breasts, pinching and rolling each nipple until I cried out again—whether in pain or pleasure, I wasn’t sure.
“Reminding you”—he slowed down, easing in and out of me gently as his breathing softened—“you’re mine.” He ran his hand up and down my back, over my ass. “Your pleasure is mine. Your body is mine.”
A part of me railed against his claim while an equal part wanted to surrender. I knew he was doing this to punish me, even though he’d said he didn’t feel the need for retribution after we talked.
“Say it.” He gripped my hair, pulling my head back gently. “Say it, and I’ll take you where you’re dying to go.”
I was furious that he was holding my body hostage, but a little voice in my head reminded me I would want revenge if he’d been the one kissing someone else, so I swallowed my pride and let him have his way. Just once. “I’m yours.”
“This incredible body”—he cupped my breast firmly before guiding his hand down my stomach, stopping just short of where I wanted his hand—“is all mine, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” I bit my lip as tears of frustration sprang to my eyes. I wanted to beg him to stop this torture, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“You’ll never, ever kiss another man, will you?”
Never was a long time. How could I make a promise like that, not knowing what the future held for us?
“Answer me.” He flipped me over again and pinned my hands over my heads. “Now.”