You Are Mine (35 page)

“You're being so very good,” he murmured, his breath against the bare skin of her shoulder. “So very obedient. I like it, angel. I like it very much indeed.”

Then sudden heat pressed against her spine, her buttocks, the backs of her thighs and she had to bite her lip this time in order to stop the sound that almost escaped her.

His grip on her hips had firmed, the hard length of his body against her. Even through his clothes she could feel the heat of him, burning like a summer bonfire.

She trembled, pushing back against him almost instinctively, feeling the ridge of his hardening cock pressing into the curve of one buttock. Oh, he wanted her, he really did. And she liked it.

“Hmmm … Getting demanding, I see.” He slid an arm around her waist, holding her against him. “Unfortunately for you, I'm the one who's in charge. And tonight I'll be the one getting what I want.” The hand on her hip moved, curving down over her butt, caressing, before pushing between her thighs, cupping her sex, making her shudder. “If you're good, though. You might get a reward. I'm feeling generous tonight.”

Eva swallowed, her mouth dry, her pulse getting faster and faster. He moved a finger, pressing the tip of it lightly against her clit, igniting a shock of pleasure. Another shudder ripped through her.

Zac circled her clit, hard enough to provide friction, light enough to prove maddening.

Her jaw went tight, her teeth clenched together. She wouldn't make a sound, just like he'd ordered. She would give him this, she would.

He pressed harder, more insistently, his touch knowing and skilled, and she had to take a ragged breath against the intensity of the sensation. It was still new to her, still overwhelming, and she didn't know how to fight it.

But he'd know that of course. Which meant he was doing this deliberately, the bastard.

At that thought, his finger pushed suddenly inside her with no warning at all, sliding deep. Her teeth sunk into her lip, biting down hard to stop the cry that threatened to break free.

His thumb stroked over her clit, while his finger withdrew then pushed back in again, the fierce arc of pleasure making her knees tremble.

But she wasn't going to make a sound. She would stay quiet. She would prove to him she could do this. Nothing was going to stop her. Nothing.

“You're so wet already,” he murmured. “Almost ready to come, aren't you?” His thumb moved in a slick circle, a little faster, a little harder. “But I'm afraid you haven't earned it quite yet, angel.” His voice deepened. “There are quite a few punishments I want to take out on your beautiful body tonight. Seven of them to be exact. One for each year you made me wait.” Another finger joined the first inside her, stretching her enough to feel a burn. “If you can handle them, if you can prove what a good girl you are, I'll give you a reward. But if you can't…” His fingers slid deeper still and she tasted blood in her mouth as she bit down harder to stop the moan that threatened to escape. “Then you won't get what you want.” His thumb moved, another tight circle. “Are you ready for your first punishment? Nod if you are.”

She could barely think, the tremble in her knees beginning to shake her entire body. But she managed to make herself give a short, sharp nod.

The bastard only stroked deeper, slowing his movements, the pleasure becoming a low moan inside her, one that pushed hard against her throat, wanting out.

“Your first punishment is that you may not make a sound and you may not come. Not until I say. Do you understand?”

Eva managed another sharp nod, fighting against the wave of sensation that was threatening to drown her.

God, the asshole knew what he was doing. The movement of his fingers increased the pleasure by subtle increments, drawing her to the edge of climax and holding her there with brutal insistence. Allowing her no time to rest or recover.

Pleasure drawn to the point of almost exquisite pain.

But she wanted her reward. And more than that, she wanted to prove herself, wanted to be strong for him.

So she bit down harder, the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, her knees almost unable to keep her upright as his fingers taunted and teased. And she thought about code, about firewalls, about viruses, about Black Hats and hackers, about anything to fight off the climax that he was building with relentless, inexorable care.

Until her body began to scream, until she didn't think she could bear it any longer.

“Now, angel.” The dark sound of his voice in her ear was the sweetest thing she'd ever heard. “Come for me, scream for me, now.”

Her body arched in his hold as she came almost instantly, pleasure a flare of white-hot magnesium lighting her up from the inside, tearing her wide open. Her head pressed back against his shoulder as the scream that had been building for so long demanded to be let out.

But his lips covered hers, taking her scream of release into his mouth, his arms tight and strong around her as she convulsed and shook with the aftershocks, collapsing completely against him.

As the intensity began to fade, she felt weightless, light as a feather. She kept her eyes closed, reveling in the warmth of Zac's mouth still on hers and the feel of his arms around her, holding her up. Her body felt loose and relaxed, and she didn't want to move. Not ever.

She'd done it though, hadn't she? She done what he wanted. Hadn't made a sound.

Zac shifted her, and suddenly she really was weightless, lifted and held against his chest.

She opened her eyes to see that he was carrying her up the stairs.

“Can I talk now?” she asked, her voice gone husky.

He glanced down at her, his amber gaze glittering in a way that told her that though she might feel safe now, she was actually very far from safe. “For the moment.”

“Not the library tonight?”

“No. We need a bedroom. My bedroom in particular.”

“I guess I can't sleep now.”

Another sharp glance from those dangerous, predatory eyes. “There will be no sleeping, Eva. Not tonight.”

She wanted to protest at that, but knew it wouldn't go down very well. So she stayed silent, allowing herself to simply rest in his arms as he carried her down a long hallway and into a bedroom. His bedroom.

He kicked the door shut behind him, carrying her over to the bed and setting her down on it.

She'd never seen this room before, but then she'd never had any reason to.

It was big—it had to be to contain the massive four-poster bed she was currently sitting on.

The walls of the room were a rich, dark blue, the floor polished wood with Eastern-looking rugs of brilliant reds and golds. There were a few bookshelves, a couple of Renaissance-style paintings in gilt frames. A comfortable-looking couch down one end of the room, covered in well-worn black leather.

The bed itself was of dark wood and covered in a midnight blue velvet quilt. It was very cozy, the velvet against her bare skin so soft she wanted to roll herself up in it and go to sleep.

Zac had gone over to one end of the room, pulling open a couple of doors to what must be a walk-in closet. He disappeared for a moment and she heard the sound of drawers being opened.

Okay, so he was probably getting … equipment.

Seven punishments he said. Holy shit, she hoped she could handle it.

“Can I ask what my reward will be?” she asked, with a touch of her usual bravado. “I mean, I think I need some incentive here.”

Zac reappeared from the closet. He was holding a few things in his hands. She couldn't stop looking at them. Long black straps. Cuffs. Jesus …

“I mean,” she went on, knowing she was starting to babble, “considering I have to receive seven punishments, it had better be something good.”

“Good point.” He came back over to the bed. “What would you like your reward to be?” He'd begun to unravel the straps in his hands, laying them on the bed.

Fear gave another little kick to her gut and her mouth went dry. “I … well … I think I'd like to…” She could feel herself going hot. “Touch you, maybe. Touch you how I want.”

Zac smoothed out one of the straps as she watched his movement, his fingers long, the tips blunt. There was a tattooed cross on his middle finger, between the knuckle and the first joint. From that Siberian prison probably. What did it mean?

“That's a pretty major reward,” he said softly. “You'll have to be extra good if you want to earn that.”

She looked up from the straps arranged neatly on the bed, met his gaze determinedly. “I can do that.”

His mouth curved, his smile sharp and hungry, taking all the breath from her. “I hope so. Because now it's time to show me.” He tossed the cuffs down on the bed beside the straps. “Your second punishment, angel. I want you to undress me, but you're not allowed to touch me, understand?”

She swallowed, frowning, not sure what he meant. “How can I do that?”

“You can touch my clothing. But you can't touch my skin.”

“That's going to be … difficult.”

“Yet not impossible.” He stepped back from the bed, his arms at his sides. “Come, Eva.”

She slipped off the bed, coming closer to him. He waited, motionless. Watching her with those hot, golden eyes. How was she supposed to do this?

Her mouth was a fucking desert and she'd started to shake again. She had no idea why getting close to him made her feel this way, and it was going to make this even more difficult.

Then again maybe that was why it was a punishment.

She stopped in front of him, deciding not to look up into his face since that stare of his only made the shaking worse.

He still wore his jacket so she decided to tackle that first, reaching up to slide it from his shoulders. He helped her, shifting so she could get it off. Afterwards she held it in her hands, unsure of what to do with it. Then, remembering how he'd neatly folded up all her clothes after he'd undressed her, she awkwardly tried to fold it before moving to the couch and laying it down on the black leather.

She'd never folded a man's clothes before and didn't do a good job. Hell, she'd never folded her own either, but she tried to keep the creases out of it at least.

When she came back to face him, there was a curious, faint smile on his face as he looked down at her. “You folded my jacket.”

“Well, yeah. It's expensive.” She reached up to his bowtie, trying not to brush his skin. “And you were careful with my clothes so…”

He didn't reply to that, but she could feel the pressure of his gaze anyway. Watching her still.

It made her task even harder and she wanted to tell him to stop it, but that would come close to admitting she couldn't do this and fuck that. She wanted her damn reward and she was going to get it.

She managed to get the bowtie undone, pulling it out from underneath his collar and placing it on the bed. Then she put her fingers on the top button of his crisp, white shirt, beginning to undo them one by one. It was hard to keep the tips of her fingers from brushing against him, and soon, as the white material parted, it became even harder still.

His skin was bronzed, definitely no pale English skin here. The legacy of a Mediterranean ancestor maybe? She undid another button, strangely hypnotized by the slow reveal of tawny skin stretched over powerful muscle.

She'd never wanted to look at a man like that before. With desire. Wondering what it would feel like to touch him, trace all that sharply defined muscularity with her fingers, with her tongue. But as she pulled the tail of Zac's shirt out from the waistband of his trousers and undid the final few buttons, she found herself wanting to do just that. Desperate for it in fact.

Of course, she couldn't. Not yet.

To stop herself from staring at him, she moved around behind, pulling his shirt from his shoulders before realizing she couldn't actually get them over his hands.

She frowned, tugging. Trying to ignore the broad sweep of his shoulders and the elegant musculature of his back.

There was a tattoo there too. A brightly colored red and gold dragon with outspread wings that reached up to his shoulders. She wanted to touch that as well, trace the lines of it with her fingers.

He gave a soft laugh at her tug, the sound almost a caress as it washed over her. “You forgot the cufflinks.”

“Shit,” she muttered, feeling like an idiot. Cufflinks had never even occurred to her. “I didn't … I mean don't…”

“Don't sweat it.” Zac began to take them off himself and she indulged herself by watching the movements of his broad shoulders, the shift and release of those sleek, powerful muscles. Throwing the cufflinks onto the bed, he held out his arms, ready for her to take the shirt off. And she did, pulling it from him, her fingers feeling stupidly clumsy as she turned away to fold it and put it on the couch, not wanting to see him shirtless quite yet.

But there was no putting it off. And no bracing herself for it either.

The impact of him was like a blow.

He was a predator. A wolf or a tiger, or the dragon on his back. A beautiful, lethal animal, radiating strength and danger and an intense sexual charisma that made her breathless. That compelled her and yet made her afraid all at once.

Her breathing was fast. She couldn't seem to get enough air.

To give herself something to focus on, she stared at the tattoo sleeve that ran up his right arm. Another dragon, a beautifully drawn blue Chinese dragon in amongst koi carp, the coils of the beast wrapping around his biceps, the neck snaking over his shoulder, the head on his right pectoral. On the opposite side of his chest, over his heart, was a small winged creature.

She didn't look at that one, disturbed by it for some reason she didn't understand.

Well, okay, so she'd managed the top half of him. Now the bottom.

Slowly, she sank down onto her knees, remembering her effort with the cufflinks and dealing with his shoes and socks first, setting them neatly aside. Then she got to her feet again and took a deep, silent breath. Reached for the button on his trousers.