Sweet Persuasion

CHAPTER 7

Julie scurried around her salon like a drunken salamander. Nathan was due for his massage in five minutes, and she was seriously reconsidering her mad seduction plan.

She stopped in front of one of the full-length mirrors and arranged her shirt for the tenth time. It was low-cut and cupped her breasts like a lover’s hands. Her cleavage was plumped up like two ripe melons and it threatened to strain right out of her neckline.

Perfect.

“Oh hell,” she muttered as she rearranged her shirt again. “I look like a whore on the make.”

Worse than that, she looked desperate.

With a glum look at her reflection, she sighed and turned away to get the oils ready. She’d chosen them especially for Nathan because all her other stuff was too girly. Nathan . . . mmmm, he was all rugged man. He needed something that wouldn’t make him smell too soft and flowery.

She pushed her cleavage up one more time before she headed into the massage room. A few times leaning over Nathan, a brush or two against him, maybe an accidental shove of her bosom into his face as she leaned across to get a towel.

Surely he couldn’t continue to ignore her. She just needed to be brave. More forceful. Own her sexuality. Yep, that was it. Faith had owned hers (and then some), and Serena was well on her way into sexual slavery.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Sexual slavery, for the love of all that’s holy. What possessed the woman? Not that the idea of Nathan tying her up and having his wicked way with her didn’t inspire some serious heavy breathing, but she had some wicked and wild fantasies and in half of them, Nathan was completely and utterly at her mercy.

A decadent smile curved her lips as her groin tightened and pulsed. Oh, hell yeah, did she have plans for one Nathan Tucker. He didn’t realize it yet, but he was going to be hers. And he’d never know what hit him.

Her business line rang, and she reached for it even as she surveyed the massage table to make sure everything was in place.

“Julie’s,” she sang out.

There was a slight pause. “Hey, Julie, this is Nathan Tucker.”

“Hi, Nathan, are you running late today?” Hell, even her voice came out all breathy like some sixteen-year-old crushing on some college guy.

“Uh, that’s why I’m calling. I can’t make it today.”

Her heart sank. “Oh. Well, okay.”

“Can we reschedule?” he asked.

“Uh, sure, let me just check my schedule.”

She walked over to the counter where her appointment book sat and rifled through the pages, though she knew every time slot by heart.

“When would you like to come in?” she asked.

There was another pause and she heard him talking in the background to someone else. And then she heard a very feminine voice float through the line. There was a light giggle and then, “Oh, I’ll give you a massage, Nathan. No need to pay someone else.”

She stood there feeling ten times a fool. She glanced down at her cleavage and laid a hand over her chest to shield the low-cut shirt.

“Stupid,” she muttered.

“What was that?” Nathan asked.

“Nothing. Did you want to reschedule or not?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“I’ll tell you what. Let me call you in a few days and we’ll set up a time then.”

“Sure,” she said stiffly. “Have a nice day.”

Before he could respond, she hung up the phone and blew out her breath with puffed cheeks.

“Look on the bright side, Julie. You were saved from making a huge ass of yourself.”

Serena walked out of her apartment to the parking lot where Damon’s driver waited for her. She had to stifle the giggle that threatened to emerge when she saw several of her neighbors openly gawk in curiosity.

Tonight’s date with Damon was at his home. That fact made her a little nervous because they weren’t meeting on neutral ground. But at the same time, she was looking forward to seeing him in a more intimate environment.

She’d dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, purposely not going for an overtly sexy look. He was already well acquainted with her desires, and she didn’t want to pressure him, to make everything about sex. She wanted to feel comfortable around him and vice versa.

When she arrived, Damon greeted her in the circular drive of his large home. He opened the door and held out a hand to help her out.

To her surprise, he too was dressed casually, and if she thought he couldn’t look any better than when he was outfitted as Mr. GQ with the expensively tailored slacks and silk shirt with the leather loafers, she was dead wrong.

The man was simply to die for in a pair of tight-fitting jeans and a T-shirt that molded to his muscled arms and chest. His loose clothing from before had disguised just what a tight body he had.

He kissed her cheek in a casual manner before turning to guide her inside. Cooler air washed over her when they walked into the house. She followed him into a luxurious sitting room where a fire burned in the hearth of a large stone fireplace.

She did a double take and then turned to him with an expression of surprise. “A fire? In this heat?”

“I like the ambience,” he said. “It lends the room such a homey feeling, don’t you think?”

It did at that. “I love it. It was just a shock to see at this time of year. Heck, it doesn’t get cold enough down here in the winter for a fire most years.”

“I very much like my creature comforts,” he said with a smile. “You might even say I’m spoiled, but my needs are few, and I like to see that they are met.”

Oh, yes, he would take such good care of her. She could feel it, and God, she couldn’t wait.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” he said as he gestured toward one of the leather couches. “Would you like something to drink? A glass of wine, perhaps?”

“That sounds lovely,” she said as she settled in the soft comfort of the couch. “Whatever you choose will be fine.”

He smiled that predatory smile, one that said he liked making her choices very much.

She kicked her sandals off and tucked her feet underneath her as she settled further into the couch. He was right about one thing. The room was homey and comfortable, and thanks to the rush of cool air being pumped in by the air-conditioning, the fire didn’t warm things too much.

Damon returned a moment later and extended a crystal wineglass down to her. Then he retreated to the armchair across from her and sat down.

She took an experimental sip and let the flavor burst over her tongue.

“Good?” he asked.

“Perfect.”

He nodded and smiled.

She drew the glass away after taking another small swallow and stared at him over the rim. “Did you get the fax I sent you this afternoon?”

“I did, but then I had no expectation of anything but a perfect bill of health.”

A smile quirked the corner of her mouth. “Wouldn’t you have been surprised if I’d tested positive for some scary STD?”

He chuckled. “That would have been a shame, indeed.”

“Are you a good lover, Damon?”

Even she was a bit stunned at how easily the question popped out. To his credit, Damon didn’t so much as flinch. He lowered the wineglass to rest above his knee and his warm brown eyes found her own.

“I like to think so. I’m demanding but generous, though somehow I think the demanding part will mesh quite well with your desires.”

Heat tinged her cheeks but she nodded.

“There are things we should talk about before we sign a contract,” he said.

Again she nodded, but for the life of her, she had no idea where to start. Thankfully he didn’t suffer any such difficulty.

“You’ve outlined quite well what you’d like, or at least where you’d like to start.”

“Yes,” she croaked.

“Then perhaps we should get to my expectations,” he said levelly.

Her eyebrows went up in surprise, and he smiled.

“I know what you’re thinking. This is your fantasy. You’re in control. But your fantasy is to relinquish your power. You will submit to me and my wishes. My wants and desires will be your own. You will please me, and in return I will please you.”

Her hand shook as she raised the wineglass to her lips again.

“For the times you are with me, I expect complete obedience and respect.”

Her hackles rose at the way he stated obedience, but she could see him studying her, waiting for her protest, almost as though he was waiting to call her a fraud.

“Does that bother you?” he asked.

“I assume you mean sexually.”

His expression didn’t change. “I mean in all aspects.”

Her eyebrows shot up.

“Not sure how you feel about that?”

How did she feel about it? The independent decision maker in her balked at anyone expecting obedience from her. It was a ridiculous notion, or was that her feminist sensibilities screaming? And if so, why weren’t they screaming louder?

It was more like an obligatory murmur of protest before they scuttled back for cover.

“It’s important to you?” she asked softly. Because she could sense it was. He was testing her. Throwing down the gauntlet, so to speak.

“You don’t have to choose me,” he reminded. “You could always find a more . . . accommodating man.”

“And how would he accommodate me?” she asked quietly. “By pretending?”

“Is that not what this is? A grand pretense? A scripted performance?”

He had her there. She had listed her conditions, but now he was listing his. No, she didn’t have to agree, but damn she wanted him. She wanted him badly.

“It’s important to you,” she said again.

“It is,” he acknowledged. “Even if this is a temporary situation, I want it to be real for as long as you choose to live it.”

“And by real you want me to submit. To you. Completely.”

His voice was like velvet, soft, fluttering across her skin as he uttered just one word.

“Yes.”

She was bathed in want. Need burned in her heart, in her soul. She hadn’t realized just how much she wanted this until now, until Damon had inspired such a desire in her.

“And if what you ask of me is unreasonable, what then?” she asked.

He propped one ankle on his knee and relaxed further into the chair. “In a lot of circles, indeed for most in this, shall we say ‘lifestyle,’ the use of safe words abounds.”

She nodded because she knew what a safe word was.

“I won’t use them,” he said firmly.

Her eyes widened. “You’re asking me to trust you that implicitly?”

He shook his head. “I won’t use a word that encourages a man to disregard the word no coming from a woman’s lips. If you say no, if you’re even thinking no, then it ends for me. I won’t indulge in silly little no-means-yes games. When that word crosses your lips? It’s over. If I ever ask of you something that you won’t give unreservedly, then all you need to say is no.”

She wasn’t even sure how to respond to that because he was absolutely, one hundred percent right. How moronic to ever discount the notion of a woman saying no.

He shifted his position again, setting his feet back on the floor as he leaned forward.

“Come here, Serena.”

She glanced up in surprise.

“You’ve become tense, and I want you to relax. I want you to be comfortable with me or this will never work.”

He held out his hand, and she found herself rising from the couch, her bare feet touching the wood floor. As she walked toward him, his gaze fell to her feet and he smiled.

“You like being barefoot.”

She was mildly embarrassed that she’d made herself so much at home in the short time she’d been here, but she nodded as she slid her hand into his.

“Then you’ll never wear shoes in my house,” he said softly. “Your comfort is very important to me.”

He tugged her downward. “Sit here at my feet and lay your head on my lap.”

Awkwardly she lowered herself until she settled on the floor. His hands guided her head until it was nestled on his lap.

“I’ve dreamed of running my fingers through your hair from the moment we first met,” he murmured.

As his fingers trailed through the strands of her hair, she closed her eyes and let out a blissful sigh. His movements were tender as he stroked and caressed.

“Now relax,” he urged. “And we’ll talk while I touch you.”

He wanted her to relax when every single nerve ending in her body was on fire?

He played with the strands and alternated guiding his hands through the heavy tresses with light touches and caresses to the curve of her neck. Slowly she began to unwind, and she went limp against him.

“We need to discuss birth control,” he began. “I don’t like to make assumptions even given my preferences. You stated in your letter that part of your fantasy was for your new master to ejaculate in your mouth.”

Oh God, now she knew at least why he’d let her hide her face, because sweet Lord, it was burning.

“Relax,” he murmured. “There should be no shame in voicing your fantasies.”

She forced herself to relax again as she realized she’d gone completely tense against him.

“It is my preference not to use condoms, but I’ll use them if that is your wish. I love the idea of coming deep inside you and watching my seed slip from your pussy as I leave your body.”

She shivered uncontrollably, and his hand tightened in her hair.

“You like that too.”

She nodded.

“I’m not sure I can logically explain the desire I have to mark a woman. I’m sure it all has to do with the primitive male psyche,” he added with a chuckle. “But the fact is, I want to come in your mouth, your pussy, your ass, on your breasts. I want to mark you mine in every conceivable fashion. You will be mine. Your body will be mine to do with as I wish.”

Another soft sigh escaped her, and her entire body trembled as his erotic words brushed her skin, reached to her most intimate places.

Yes, she wanted it too.

His fingers worked through her hair and to her neck, lightly caressing. “Are you protected against pregnancy, Serena? Or do you prefer that I use a condom?”

“I’m on birth control,” she said softly. “I—I don’t want you to use a condom.”

His hand squeezed her shoulder in approval.

“Now suppose we talk about your auction.”

She raised her head to look up at him. There was something warm and vibrant in his eyes, something that went beyond simple sexual attraction.

“You’d do that for me?”

He touched her cheek and let a finger trail down to her jaw, and then he ran it over her bottom lip.

“Of course. It is your fantasy. I admit that it’s a rather exciting scenario for me as well.”

She frowned for a moment even as she leaned further into his touch.

“So this is your fantasy too?”

His expression became more serious. “No,” he said distantly. “This isn’t my fantasy.”

“Then why . . . ?”

She let the question trail off as she looked intently into his eyes.

He continued to stroke her face, touching each part of her skin with inquisitive fingers as he stared back at her.

“Perhaps I’m tired of waiting for something I may never find.”

“And what is it that you want?” she asked softly.

A faraway look entered his eyes and they turned almost wistful. “What you want as fantasy, I want as reality. A woman who will surrender to me, who will trust me to take care of her, provide for her, and who doesn’t mind relinquishing control in all aspects of our relationship.”

“And you haven’t been able to find a woman who meets those requirements?”

She couldn’t help the surprise that bled into her question.

“No, I haven’t,” he said quietly.

She laid her head back on his lap, and he resumed stroking her hair. “Then why are you agreeing to this?”

He stopped for a moment, her hair tangled around his fingers. “Because I’m tired of waiting, and so for a little while, I’d like to experience my own fantasy.”

She nodded. That much she could understand. Fantasies were safe. It was a break from reality. A chance to act on desires for a short period of time.

“Now about the auction. You seem open to being nude in front of a room full of men, of even having them touch you, watch you and want you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut but nodded wordlessly against his leg.

“And you want me to fuck your mouth in front of these men.”

Again she raised her head to look at him and tried not to cringe over his bluntness. “Does that bother you?”

He smiled. “Does it bother me that a beautiful woman wants to pleasure me while every other man in the room is eaten up with jealousy?”

She let out a small laugh. “Stupid question, I guess.”

“I was more worried that it would bother you,” he said gently.

She tried to look down, but he wouldn’t let her. He nudged her chin up with his fingers, forcing her to look directly at him.

“It’s fantasy,” she said. “I want, for a while, to do things that I wouldn’t normally do, to be a person I’m not. I know this isn’t me but I still crave it. Just a taste. When it’s all over, I can look back without shame because . . . it’s not real.”

“You seem so sure this isn’t you,” he said. “And yet you articulate your desires so well. You know precisely what it is you want.”

She shook her head. “No, this isn’t me. I’m stronger than this. I don’t want to be weak. I just want . . . an adventure.”

His eyes flickered and became shielded. “Then that’s what you’ll have. If you trust me to make the arrangements, I’ll set up a night for your fantasy to begin at my establishment. I’ll enlist the aid of some of the club members, but I believe the fantasy will be more powerful for you if you don’t know every single detail.”

“And after?” She asked the question uppermost on her mind. What happened after Damon claimed her?

He tilted her chin even further upward as his eyes bore into hers. There was latent power simmering in his gaze. A tightly held current just begging to be unleashed.

“After the auction, you are mine.”