"No!" She bit her lip when she heard her own desperate tone. I stopped with most of my middle finger still in her. "Axel, please."
"Please what? Ms. Hamilton, you brought me here for a private conversation. Please be clear about your needs."
"Please make me come?" She said it with that upward, questioning lilt, like she wasn't sure if that was what she should say.
"Is an orgasm all you need? You could kick me out and handle that yourself. You don't need some trashy rock-and-roll man-slut from the gutter to get you off."
She blinked, instantly grasping this wasn't "dirty talk." I was playing a different game, now. "I never called you a slut," she said.
"I never called you one, either."
I saw her eyes narrow as I scored that conversational point. She tried to defend. "No. But you … made me act like one."
"Did I?" I wiggled the finger inside. "Because you like this? I don't think it's wrong for you to like this. I don't think it means you're … easy. Or weak. Or bad. I think it's very, very good. A strong woman should have strong desires."
She swallowed. "That's true. I'm not saying sex is bad, or that wanting sex is bad. It's just … complicated for me. My life is … very complicated."
Maybe the reason I saw the real Ricki when she was submitting to me was that I made things simple. Do this, do that, love me, love yourself. Simple, right? "I honestly never kidnapped an heiress before," I said conversationally, sliding my finger in as far as it would go. "I'm not into groupies."
I couldn't tell if her next question was a real one or a kind of challenge. She was still smarting over me calling her on the "slut" comment. "What exactly are you into?"
Maybe she wanted me to say something about BDSM there. Instead I said, "You, Ricki Hamilton. I'm in you." I drove my finger into her again and felt her groan. I finger-fucked her again then, my thumb flicking her clit as lightly as she had touched herself while my middle finger searched for the way to make her come. I figured I may as well confess. If she was going to throw me out anyway, she'd have to do it knowing this wasn't all "playboy" fun to me. "You want to know why I grabbed you instead of Sakura out of the audience? Because I'm into you, Ms. Hamilton. I wasn't looking for a quick, meaningless fuck. I like it to mean something."
She was so close now. I could feel her insides gripping my finger tighter and tighter.
"I think you like it to mean something, too. I think you neglect your sensual needs. I think you're a woman who doesn't treasure her pleasure like she should. I think you need someone who will."
"You, you mean," she said through gritted teeth.
"Mm-hm. That's what a dom does. I'll treasure your pleasure … " I dipped my head between her legs and licked at her clit until I felt the very first sharp spasm of orgasm; I raised my head and said, "And I'll treasure your pain." And then I gently bit her right on the clit.
I bit her hard enough so that she felt the teeth, felt the edge of discomfort, but not enough to damage. She was coming so hard I wondered if she even registered it as pain. Then again she was screaming.
But she was screaming my name.
CHAPTER FIVE
DON'T LOOK AWAY
RICKI
Oh, what the fucking hell, Ricki, what have you gone and gotten yourself into, I thought as I leaned into the hot water pouring down on me from the rain-shower head.
I'd kicked Axel out. I felt a little bad about it because he was being so … nice … after shaving me, fingering me, and making me come three more times, that is. Nice. Maybe that wasn't the right word: How about considerate instead. Cleaning me up, neatening up, helping me to the toilet because my legs were so shaky I wasn't sure I could make it across the bathroom. And being so grounded and understanding and …
Infuriating. How dare he? How dare he.
I turned my face up into the water. But it wasn't washing away the memories. If anything the hot water was only making me think of the way his fingers had poured down my breastbone, dappled over my stomach, and proceeded to …
Argh. I slid a finger between my so-slick lips and got myself off as quickly as I could, scolding myself the entire time. You didn't get enough yet? Can't even count how many times you came already tonight!
I turned up the heat on the water, wanting it to hurt, wanting to punish myself. He was right. Every woman had a right to as much pleasure as her partner was willing to dish out. Strong women deserved strong pleasure. But the world I lived in wasn't about to recognize that-and Axel Hawke, sex god, did not understand that at all.
That was why I had to kick him out. It was time to get it through my head that I'd had a wild fling with a rock star and now it was time to forget all about it. It's over. You had your fun. Time to get back to work.
And tonight's party was definitely going to be work. The CTC board of directors would all be present. And I had that idea I wanted to float by Meyers. Maybe tonight was going to be the moment for that, if he made it here after the Blue Star party. Even if not, I needed to be on my best behavior. I needed to be strong.
It was probably unfair for me to expect Axel to understand why I couldn't just sleep with whoever I wanted. He could break all the rules and call it "image" and the execs at his record company probably loved it. A guy could never understand how quickly a woman's image in this business could be shattered. I'd never get them to take me seriously if they knew. If you were going to show you could play with the big boys, you could never let them think of you as a girl. And especially not as a "slut." Because that was the label they would slap on any woman who showed her sexual side at all.
Publicity stunt. That's all it was. Surely there would be some good-natured ribbing from my co-workers, and hopefully the CTC Board of Directors weren't disgusted with the spectacle I'd made of myself or anything like that. I really needed to make a good impression on them.
Hm. I reached for the shampoo. Was it better for me to claim it was all set up in advance and therefore no big deal-just a manufactured publicity effort, hardly worth fussing over, yawn. Or should I say it was a mistake-Axel grabbed the wrong woman-but I went along with it? The show must go on. That was an ethos that had been drilled into me early, and one that everyone in the entertainment business inherently respected.
Yes, that's how I would play it. Innocent bystander playing my part, like a rube pulled out of the audience at a hypnotist's show. No one likes a spoilsport.
I should check with Sakura before I say anything, I thought. And that's if it comes up. Maybe it won't.
I couldn't be so lucky.
* * *
I styled my hair into a sleek, upswept bun, gave myself minimal makeup, and got into my party dress. My grandfather had always said the best cosmetic was youth. There would be no one taking my photo without permission here, and I figured the less tarted up I looked the better. The dress was simply elegant, a dark vermilion drape from one shoulder that left the other bare and had matching suede ballet flats. This kind of dress was all about the neck, or the necklace, as the case may have been. I didn't mess around. I put back on the most expensive diamond choker I owned, the one that had been my grandmother's. There. That would stun them.
I wanted to text Sakura, then remembered she probably had my phone. Instead I intercommed to security asking them to send her to my wing as soon as she arrived.
The window of my bedroom overlooked the courtyard and I could hear the laughter of guests who had already arrived. I paced to the window to look and then stood there feeling sudden flames on my cheeks. Walking. I could not walk without feeling like Axel was … doing inappropriate things to me. No one warned me that when you're shaved bare down there you feel everything sliding around! Every step I took felt as if I might as well have his hand down there.
At least he hadn't left any marks or I would have been scrambling for another dress. I went back to the mirror to be sure. No. No bruises, no red spots, no hickeys. I guess that was his idea of being responsible: leaving no evidence. I ran my finger along the row of diamonds on the bottom of the choker. The whole piece was about an inch wide, the diamonds forming an elegant ribbon of brilliance around my neck.
I could hear his voice in my head. Some doms make their subs wear a collar to keep that spot hidden. But I don't have to.
The cocky bastard. You don't own me, Axel Hawke. Get out of my fucking head.
"Helloooo?" Sakura called.
"Sarah!" I stuck my head into the hallway. "Get in here!"
She hurried into the bedroom. Her dress was so tight she couldn't take big strides and she was in heels so high they were almost in poor taste. Almost.
"How do I look?"
"Fabulous as always," she said without really looking at me. "Here." She handed me my clutch purse.
I pulled my phone out and looked at my messages. "Tsk. Four from Bubbly McDrunkard."