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He strode through the exclusive club, his footsteps ringing through the empty marble hallway. Pulling at his silk tie, he checked his wristwatch. He was late, a very unusual occurrence.
He found the nondescript door that would lead to his fantasies. The ones he thought of all day during the meetings and cutthroat dealings and maneuvers. He paused at the door and harnessed the excitement galloping through his veins. Excitement was one thing he hadn't felt in years. Until recently.
It was more than the promise of physical fulfillment that fueled his anticipation. He was intensely in love with the woman of his dreams. It didn't make sense. He barely knew the woman, and knew nothing about her life outside their encounters. He cared for the other women in his life, but nothing to this degree. He wouldn't give up everything---his wealth, his freedom, his life---to anyone else other than the mysterious woman behind the door.
Perhaps his love felt intense because it could not be revealed. That would undermine his position. If he showed any hint of becoming an indulgent lover, her trust in him would falter. When she sought him out months ago, it was because he could handle her while other men would cave in to her demands.
She was a demanding lover. A challenging woman. His self-control had been tested many times. And each time he succeeded, it gave him a blinding euphoria unlike any orgasm. He needed her just as much as she needed him.
He needed her now. At this moment. But the impatience would be his downfall. Waiting until the painful need dulled into a consistent throb, he swung the door open and entered the room. His sharp gaze zoomed to the corner as his heartbeat kicked.
She was there. Leaning her shoulder against the wall, waiting for him.
His chest felt constricted, like hot bands of steel were twisting around him. His reaction concerned him. He knew she would be here. It didn't matter if he had been early, late or a no-show. She would have been here and stayed.
He covertly studied her as he pushed the door closed with his foot. Her pale blonde hair fell ramrod straight past her shoulders. The silky white blouse, black linen skirt and heels should have appeared prim, but the hectic flush in her pale skin gave her away.
She pushed away from the wall and walked to the middle of the room, assuming the subservient position. Clasping her hands in front of her, she dipped her head down. Her eyes should have been cast down to the floor with absolute reverence and trust, but he could see her watching him.
His mouth twitched with knowing. She was a mix of casual and conservative. Deference and defiance. He had to strip it down until she couldn't do anything but follow his lead.
He walked towards her. Slowly. Steadily. Her chest rose and fell in time with each step. He didn't speak until he stood toe to toe with her. He watched her nipples tighten behind the silk blouse.
"You aren't naked," he finally said. His husky voice boomed in the empty room. It wasn't what they agreed upon, but that didn't matter. He had to keep her guessing, keep her off-balance until she gave up relying on her instincts and followed his.
She flinched at his greeting. Her eyes flickered up. Realizing she was about to make a mistake by giving eye contact, she lowered her lashes. Her smooth forehead wrinkled with confusion. "No, but..."
"I didn't ask for excuses," he cut her off, his tone indifferent. "I didn't tell you to speak. Go stand in the corner."
She winced. The undignified form of punishment obviously made her hackles rise. But she turned around and walked to the corner she had just left, her heels clicking against the hard floor.
He waited until her shoulders bumped the joining walls. Discomfort shimmering off of her in waves, but she did not bow her head. She faced at the wall head-on, her chin tilted with pride.
"Very good," he decided and moved towards her. He didn't want to destroy her pride, although it would make his role easier. However, her dignity made her all the more challenging. More appealing. "Turn around and face me."
She complied immediately. Her eyes widened as he swiftly leaned in and surrounded her. "Next time, no excuses," he told her. He watched her intently, waiting for the excuse bubbling on her tongue, the fire leaping in her eyes. None came.
Satisfaction swelled in his chest. She was becoming better at accepting his word. Now for the next demand. "I want you naked." By the end of the night, all she would see and hear was him. Touch nothing but his body. Taste only his sweat and skin.
Her hands fluttered to the collar button.
"I didn't tell you to move," he reminded her in a dangerously low voice. He knew she wanted him to take charge. To be in absolute control. He wanted it just as badly. Only he had the strength to follow through.
She wanted to submit wholeheartedly, enough to deal with the devil. But at the moment of truth, her fears gain power and she instinctively wrestled for control. But she couldn't take control from him. No one could.
The knowledge fizzed through his blood and transmuted into something more primal. Base. He raised his hand and hooked his fingers into her blouse. With a clawing, savage pull, he ripped her blouse.
The rendering of silk and her gasp filled the air, electrifying it until the room pulsed with need.
He gathered the strips of silk with his fists as lust slashed his gut. The sight of her pale, full breasts and tight nipples beckoned him to forget about self-control. To dive in to her curves and indulge.
His fingers grazed her hardening nipples. When she pressed her lips together and arched for his touch, his penis swelled...in response.
"Cup your breasts," he ordered hoarsely.
She hesitantly shielded her nipples from his eyes.
"Rub your hands all over them."
His blood roared in his ears as she skimmed her hands under her breasts, pushing the small mounds together, deepening her cleavage. He gritted his teeth as she began to rub in earnest. She palmed her hard, rosy peaks and pressed her lips together as the reddened skin puckered under his gaze.
"Tug at your nipples," he ordered gruffly. His hands trailed down her hips with a proprietary slowness. His hands skimmed the V above her legs, basking in the heat as his attention stayed on her bared breasts.
She plucked at her nipples with her fingers and thumbs. The rose colored skin grew cherry red as she began to roll the crinkled peaks with growing eagerness.
His fingers were desperate to take over. He could easily imagine the firm nipples yielding under his fingertips. "Make them tight," he ordered nonchalantly as a fiery desire build inside him.
She tweaked as he commanded, her hands fluttering at her breasts. He could feel his skin tightening against his face as he maintained an untouched image. "Tighter..." he said, his hands purposefully gathering the hem of her skirt.
"Tighter..." He teased her by grazing his fingertips on her bare legs, leisurely drawing circles behind her knees. She copied his move with desperate, hurried strokes, tracing her taut nipples.
He lowered his head until his mouth hovered the gentle slope. "Offer them to me." His hot breath wafted her chest. Goosebumps prickled her skin.
She thrust her breasts to his mouth. Her body shivered with expectation. Her spine was tight, preparing for the onslaught of sensations.
He wanted to devour her offering. He was tempted to take everything right now and offer her pleasure. Worship her body with his hands and mouth until she knew exactly how much he loved and adored her.
A droplet of sweat streamed down his back and he opened his mouth and flattened his tongue against her hard nipple. His mouth begged to suckle her breast. He wanted to fill his mouth with her small breast. Brand her with his teeth marks.
Feeling the alarming slip of control, he pulled back. She did not want his adoration. She wanted his harshness. Trying to remember that, he moved to the other breasts and sampled, determined not to linger. He heard the groan rumbling in her chest as his lips dragged away from her.
With an infinite patience he didn't know he possessed, he crept the skirt hem up her bare legs, slowly exposing her pale, glistening curls.
Her breath hitched in her throat as the warm air clashed with her swollen softness. He cupped her, closing his eyes and he luxuriated in her steamy heat. She shuddered as he stroked her puffy, greedy flesh. He thumbed her engorged bud. She bit her plush bottom lip, but the keening cry escaped.
He was ready to rip open his trousers and sink into her. Instead, he gently slipped his finger into her wet channel. She slapped her hands against the wall as he pumped her. Faster. Coarser. Until his hand burned from the heat and was fragrant with her dew.
She spread her legs wider. Her hips twitched and rolled as he slipped inside another finger. She tossed her head back. Her pale hair veiled her flushed face as she gasped the hot, musky air.
He watched as she grabbed and pinched her breasts. The jagged red streaks declared the passion erupting from her skin. She reached for him, her hands skittering across his jacket before capturing the lapels. Her body tightened as her moan escalated.
The glorious transformation unfurled before his lust filled eyes. The prim lady became a woman filled with passion. The soft-spoken voice warbled with a lusty cry as she climaxed.
He drove his fingers into her again and again. He wanted her to keep climbing. Keep reaching. He wanted her to discover the feminine power inside, the secret force that only he seemed able to uncover.
Her gentle mouth hung open as she tried to regain her breath. She blinked open her eyes. A shadow of something undefined chased the glimmer of satisfaction from her blue eyes. She ducked her head.
"I didn't tell you to come," he teased as his heart pounded fiercely.
A vivid blush crept up from her chest to her face. "I'm sorry."
"Next time, wait for me." He didn't trust himself to touch her at the moment, not when he wanted to gather into his arms give her everything her body craved. He stepped back and removed his hand. She whimpered from the loss.
"Unzip my pants."
She jerked into action, fumbling with the belt loosened. The metal buckle clanged as she grabbed for the zipper.
"Careful," he reminded her tersely. "Get on your knees."
She awkwardly knelt down and gently lowered the zip, revealing inch by inch the smooth, hard penis. He tensed as wisps of her hot breath bathed him. Her soft fingers grazed the root of his penis and nestled into his wiry, dark hair.
He knew it was no accident. She was trying to test him. To see how much she could get away with. To discover how much power she had over him.
He swallowed roughly, doing his best not to hiss with pleasure. "Do that again, and I'll end this session right now," he threatened softly.
She dropped her hands away immediately.
"Stand up and open your legs for me. Now." The 'now' was unnecessary as she already scampered into a standing position and widened her stance, offering him a view that left nothing to the imagination.
She wasn't very good at following directions, he decided as he grabbed the back of her thighs and hooked her legs over his hips. But he was willing to be a patient and thorough teacher, no matter how long it took. The longer the better. Then she will know that he owned her mind, body and soul.
The St. Louis Gateway Arch gleamed under the moon. Amir tried not to stare at the awesome sight. He pulled his gaze away from the corporate office windows that overlooked the Mississippi River. He was here to celebrate the closing of a business deal, not sightsee.
Amir silently listened to the man in front of him discussing mutual funds. The topic usually roused passionate feelings in Amir. But not tonight. His eyes drifted back to the silver monument, wondering what beckoned him to the famous architecture.
The steel appeared incredibly pale, bending towards then away from the moonlight. Reflecting the blinding brilliance while at the same time accepting and muting it, transforming the light into something warm and infinitely beautiful.
A lot like Noukrani.
Amir gritted his teeth as he checked his thoughts. He harnessed his traveling mind and tried to forget about the woman who caused him so much agony.
The people surrounding him continued talking as if nothing was amiss. They jockeyed for his attention, panting for a brief word of praise. After all, he was the president of Amir Khan Investments. He commanded the world around him as head of his company and leader of his dynastic family. He lived the life men envied and he had his pick of women.
All except her, of course.
He'd had her once, for a short while. She'd accepted his power; welcomed it. She had appeared so fragile, but she had a power all her own. He hadn't fully appreciated her quiet force until it was too late.
And then she vanished. For weeks Amir searched with no results. He culled his memory, trying to find any hidden message or sign. Nothing. She left without a trace just as he fell in love with her.
Fell in love.
What a ridiculously tame phrase. It was more of a crashing blow. A pain he would gladly endure every day if it meant having her by his side.
Amir winced. Do not think of her, he ordered harshly. It would be foolhardy. Still, he couldn't stop thinking of Noukrani, which was a clear indication of how much his self-control slipped in the past three months. He couldn't concentrate on anything. He made errors. His bewildered family watched as rebellious relatives slipped through his fingers without judgment.
If only he could figure out why she'd left. Why she'd caught him by surprise. If he got the answers, he'd stop feeling so...vulnerable. He hated the word. He hated the feeling. He wanted to shake the vulnerability off like snowflakes. Then he could regain his confidence.
But he would never find out the true reason for her disappearance. And if she returned, she had reasons -- unknown and unspoken -- for not wanting him. He would learn to deal with the memory of her. Deal with how everything from Chanel No. 5 to the arch of silver steel reminded him of her.
Amir gave a last sideways glance at the Arch. The sleek monument had the same coloring, same polished, glossy exterior as the woman of his dreams. The same steely cold inside.
He determinedly looked away and concentrated on the man speaking. Amir nodded and absently swirled the whiskey in his glass. As he sipped the straight amber liquid, a shot of silver caught his attention.
The Arch's reflection, Amir decided swiftly. Must be hell trying to get anything done around here.
His dark eyes followed the silver. It was an automatic response. He was a man who was aware of his surroundings, always noticing and mentally filing what was going on around him.
The whiskey on his tongue evaporated as the silver reflection rippled.
His heart imploded in his chest. It was she.
No, it couldn't be. He inhaled sharply, attempting to clear his mind, accepting the slicing pain in his lungs.
Amir looked away and then looked back. His hand clenched the whisky glass until his knuckles whitened.
She was still there.
Or was she? Had he conjured up her apparition? Had all the mind games he's played made him go slowly mad?
He squeezed his eyelids shut and blasted them open.
She was real. He widened his eyes until they burned. She was here. In St. Louis. In the same room. Why?
To hell with those questions. It didn't matter right now. His heart pumped slowly as if his blood turned to sludge. He could hear his pulse thundering in his ears.
The only thing that mattered was what he was going to do about it.
Belinda stepped back in the corner of the room. Why did she always think she saw him in a crowd? Every time she saw a tall man with luxuriant black hair, her heart flinched.
Her heart still hadn't figured it out that he would not come after her. He would never seek her out. She was an unimportant facet of his life. She'd come to that conclusion long ago.
Which didn't explain why she was hugging the quiet corner because she thought she saw him.
"You okay?" Ryan asked, cupping her elbow with a concerned hand.
Belinda plastered a friendly smile on her face. Ryan, her next-door neighbor, had the making of becoming a good friend. Only he wanted to be something more. Belinda knew she should give him a chance, should forget the past and start living.
"Yes, I'm fine," she replied hoarsely. Her body was still flushed to the wall.
Ryan tilted his head and studied Belinda. "Would you like something to drink?"
She nodded. "Water." Her throat felt dry and on fire.
"I'll be right back." He gave her a quick, affectionate squeeze to her elbow before stepping away.
Belinda watched as the crowd of professionals swallowed him up. What was she doing here? She wished she were at home in her flannel pajamas eating ice cream from the carton. Okay, so that's what she's been doing since she ran back home to St. Louis. She needed to get out and stop feeling sorry for herself.
A movement caught her eye.
Damn, that looks just like him. She shook her head in self-disgust. She had to stop doing that. Had to stop hoping.
She met him at a party similar to this. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but she remembered it vividly. It was the only time a man left her breathless with one white-hot intense glance.
It was immediately apparent that he was a dangerous man to know. Of course, that intrigued her even more. She observed him that night from underneath her eyelashes as she asked around the party about him.
Everyone knew of the stranger, but they kept a distance from the man known only as Sahib. The man conveyed power. He had an unlimited capacity for self-control. An iron will combine with staggering inner strength. The ability to show tenderness without being weak. Without allowing his emotions and needs to rule him.
His control and power mesmerized Belinda. But what made him irresistible was that she didn't know him. And he didn't know her.
Belinda wasn't really into passionate encounters with nameless faces. That didn't give her unimaginable excitement, but having sex under the cloak of a different name gave her the freedom she craved.
When she was approached with the opportunity to have the stranger and her anonymity, she accepted without hesitation. She wanted to know what it felt like to go wild with a man strong enough to protect her. She needed to experiment within the confines of the rigid set of laws...
Belinda needed Sahib. Wanted to feel the might lurking under his golden skin, the harsh features pressed against hers, her fingers threading through his wavy blue-black hair.
The same thick hair like the man in front of her.
Stop that, Belinda admonished herself silently. That is not Sahib. She would wait until he turned just a little bit. She would see his face and prove---
He straightened. The man's exotic and gloriously male face was achingly familiar.
Oh, God! Belinda's stomach twisted violently. She lurched from the acute pain.
Their eyes clashed. His brown eyes aggressively sliced down her trembling figure. Her black Donna Karan dress offered little protection. Belinda knew better than to battle him with a glare or frigid stare. She retreated by looking away.
She acted on her first instinct. She ran.
Belinda jerked to the side, hunched over as she pushed her way through the crowd of people. She muttered her apologies as she darted for the exit, all the while hoping that she was hidden.
Ohgodohgodohgod. Why was he here? It didn't matter. He was here. That meant she had to get out and get out fast.
She didn't fully understand the need to run. She wished she had the courage to throw her arms around him. Hang on tight and hold him forever. But that would reveal her true feelings. If he ever knew how much she loved him, he would seduce her mind, body, and soul and never give up his ownership.
She swerved to the right when she spotted the exit sign. The fine hairs on her neck prickled with awareness. Swallowing the metallic taste of panic, she hastily looked over her shoulder. Belinda froze as she saw him pursuing her, effortlessly cutting through the crowd.
Shit. She wouldn't make it to the elevators in time.
Where could she go? Where could she hide? Somewhere he wouldn't think of going. Some place beneath his dignity.
The women's room. He wouldn't step in there. But she was on the top floor of the damned office building. It wasn't like she could crawl out of the window. And Sahib would wait and draw her out like his prey. She would have to find an escape once she was safe in the restroom.
Belinda dashed into the hallway, frantically looking for signs to the restrooms. Her thin heels and gasping breaths reverberated in the shadowy hallway. The place was deserted. It was the last place she wanted to have a reunion with him.
The softly illuminated sign to the restroom was as welcoming as a lighthouse's beacon on a stormy night. Just a few more steps...
"Noukrani." The calm, husky voice bounced against the marble walls. It held more power than an angry bark.
Belinda staggered to a stop. From his voice or from the pet name, she wasn't sure.
She wanted to turn around, but apprehension paralyzed her. His approaching footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Her muscles screamed for her to bolt.
"Turn around," he softly ordered.
She bit down onto her lip, but reluctantly complied. Old habits died hard.
She nervously cleared her throat. "Hello, Sahib."
His name had a physical effect. A faint shudder rippled through him. He moved closer, his eyes grazing over her.
"Belinda?"
Belinda flinched violently. How had he found out her real name? She didn't even know his!
"Belinda, are you all right?"
She sagged with relief as she realized it was Ryan's voice. She glanced around Sahib's broad shoulders and saw the pale vision of Ryan at the other end of the hallway.
Belinda flashed a cautious look at Sahib. His ferocious expression struck fear inside her. "Sahib---"
"You're here with a man?" he growled softly. "A date? A lover?" His eyes glittered with anger.
"Please," she whispered, the momentary relief congealing into dread.
"Please what?" he taunted in a sinister whisper.
"He doesn't know." She barely moved her mouth as she watched Ryan walk towards them.
The quivering tension disappeared in Sahib's body. "Then he must not be your lover."
"Sahib." The pleading held a note of warning. He would not make a scene, would he?
"You owe me." Sahib pivoted on his heel and strode away.
Owed him? she thought hysterically as she watched him retreat. He didn't give a backwards glance.
"Belinda?" Ryan hurried over to her. "Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry, Ryan. I'm feeling unwell." She pressed her hand against her stomach. It wasn't a total lie. Her stomach was a butterfly war zone.
Ryan's forehead burrowed with a frown. "What was Khan doing here?"
Khan? Was that his name? It suited him. "He saw me make a very undignified dash to the bathroom. I guess he was concerned."
"Amir Khan was concerned?" Ryan wasn't buying it.
Belinda bent to her waist as her stomach cramped. "I think I must be getting the flu that's going around."
Ryan jumped into action. "Let me take you home."
"No, no." Belinda shook her head as he guided her to the elevator. "You stay here. After all, you're networking."
"Nonsense." He punched the call button and the metal elevator doors immediately slid open. "I'm taking you home now."
Belinda smiled and looked at him through her lowered lashes. "You're very sweet." And she felt guilty. Ryan was too nice a guy for a woman like her.
Ryan's ears turned red from the compliment. "You go to the lobby and sit down. Let me go get our coats."
Her fragile smile crumbled as the elevator doors slid shut. Sahib -- no, Amir Khan was in town. He knew her first name. It would be a matter of time before he found her. And then she would understand the true meaning of the word trouble.
"You owe me." The words played in her mind again and again. She shook her head angrily. The arrogance of the man! She was doing him a favor as well. How would the business community react if they found out about her?
Had she been his ex-wife, they wouldn't blink an eye.
Ex-lover? Former mistress? It might cause a few tongues wagging.
But his former sex slave?
She shuddered. It would be a scandal that neither would survive.
Chapter Two
When the present arrived two days later, Belinda's heart stuttered. The package came in a plain brown wrapping. It appeared innocent, but she knew differently.
The moment she signed for the package and closed the door, Belinda tossed it on the hall table and went back to her home office. She tried to ignore Sahib's invasion and concentrate on her spreadsheets. After reading the same numbers for fifteen minutes, she threw her papers onto her desk and marched back to the hallway.
Folding her arms across her chest, she studied the package from a distance. She didn't know why she was acting all weird about it. She knew what was in there. She knew what to expect from Sahib -- Amir.
Belinda chewed on her bottom lip. There was no reason to open the box. No reason to glance inside. All she had to do was write something like 'return to sender'.
But what if she was wrong? What if something entirely different was in the box? Belinda closed her eyes and forced down the rising fear. That would be a curt, indifferent rejection. Which would be Sahib's style.
She raked her hands through her pale blonde hair. She couldn't stand it anymore. She had to know. Belinda grabbed the box and carefully pulled the tape from its perfect crease. In seconds she was ripping strips of the paper off and revealed a hard black box.
She chewed her nail as she studied the jewelers' case. It was long, flat and wide. The perfect size.
Her hand hovered over the latch. Why am I doing this? she asked herself wearily. She didn't want to get involved with him again. Hell, she'd fallen in love with the guy and didn't even know his real name!
And, perhaps, that was what really frightened her. That she could work for all the tools that would make her self-sufficient and safe, but ultimately, she would abandon it all for a seductive man.
She needed to protect herself. The way she'd been doing it for years. Belinda considered her options, plucking the latch with her thumb. Yes, she would face her fears head-on. That would be the only way to get Sahib---Amir out of her life.
First thing first. With her heart banging against her ribs, Belinda slowly opened the box. Her heart beat faster as she gasped in recognition at the first glimmer of gold.
It was her necklace. Her choker. The one Amir had given to her when she'd first entered their agreement. The reddish gold was of the highest quality. A thick filigree collar wrapped around her neck. Ribbons of gold fanned out against her chest ending in heart-shaped designs.
Belinda stroked the metal with a loving finger. She frowned at the coldness. "Wait a second," she said, muttering to herself. Her necklace was never cold. Never. The warmth comforted and excited her. It made her feel cherished. Never alone.
Her first thought was that maybe it wasn't her necklace. Her eyes widened at the possibility of the jewelry being a copy. That would be the worst insult.
She pressed it against her neck. Maybe she was wrong. Maybe it did feel warm, maybe it would feel right against her flesh.
She flinched at the icy touch. She pressed it closer to her throat. Slowly, the warmth of her skin seeped into the mellow gold. The constricting sensation sent a bolt of longing through the center of her body.
Belinda sighed with relief. It was still her necklace. It hadn't lost its magic. It was just lonely.
A lot like her.
Curious to see how it looked, she walked to the mirror. The beauty of the necklace was overwhelming. The sight of it on her neck and all its symbolism made her breathless.
"No." The defiant tone rang through her hallway. She curled her hands into fists. She was not going to be with Amir ever again.
Belinda tugged at her fitted pinstriped jacket while the receptionist murmured in the phone. She clutched to her briefcase that held the necklace. She couldn't wait to get rid of it. Truly.
"You may go in," the receptionist said, eyeing her, obviously wondering how an unknown woman could waltz through to the president's suite without an appointment.
Belinda tried to look calm, cool -- professional -- as she strode through the intimidating décor. She knew Amir's headquarters were in Chicago, yet the St. Louis offices were opulent. Just how wealthy and how powerful was Amir Khan, Belinda wondered as she walked to the secretary's desk.
"I'm Belinda Hathaway. I'm here to see...Amir Khan."
"One moment." The unsmiling woman walked to the ornate double doors and gave a brisk knock. Belinda took the moment to pat her snug bun and make sure it was in place.
The secretary poked her head into the office that possessed a forbidden quality. "Miss Belinda Hathaway is here to see you."
"Send her in." Belinda tensed at the familiar growl. Her insides liquefied. Her feet refused to move.
Take charge. Take charge. This is not a D/s scene. This is real life.
"Thank you." Belinda gave a tight smile to the secretary and strode in the office. She forced herself to walk to the desk. Amir Khan rose from his seat. He looked every inch the ruthless businessman. His severe black suit accentuated his muscular frame, but it couldn't contain the blatant aura of his power.
Neither spoke until they heard the click of the door.
"Noukrani."
Why did her knees threaten to buckle every time he said that name? "Mr. Khan."
Amir's eyebrows rose. "Please sit down."
"No, thank you," she answered in her best no nonsense tone. "I won't be here long."
"Why are you here?" He laid his hands flat on his desk and leaned closer.
"To return this." She set her briefcase on the desk, using it as a barrier. Snapping the case open, she briskly placed the box on the desk.
Amir stared at the box. His jaw popped, but he didn't move. Despite his stillness, or maybe because of it, Belinda wanted to jump out of reach. She fought for composure. Any hint of weakness and he would move in for the kill.
He looked away from the jeweler's box and studied her. His mouth twisted in a smile at her prim appearance. "The necklace is yours to keep."
"I can't accept it." She looked away. Now would be a good time to get out of the office. She did what she had to do. Belinda hurriedly closed her briefcase.
"Consider it a memento." With the flick of his finger, Amir opened the case and slid it to her.
"I don't need one." She fought the impulse to flick it back at him. The last thing she needed to do was taunt him. Or touch the necklace that meant so much to her.
"Is that so?" Amir's words held the bite of annoyance. He pocketed the necklace with a carelessness that scratched her soul. "Does that mean you don't want to remember what happened between us?"
Belinda yanked the briefcase off his desk. "That is not what I said." She was quickly losing control of the meeting. She had to get out fast.
Amir moved away from his desk. "Did you find yourself another master?"
"I'm not in the market for one at this time." She had to get to the door while Amir was still behind the desk.
"You're not looking?" That stopped him in his tracks. "At all? Are you turning away from the lifestyle?"
Belinda shrugged and moved for the door.
"Or just from me?"
She stiffened. Had he figured it out already?
Amir was at her side. She had forgotten he had the stealth of a panther. "Why did you leave?" he murmured close to her ear.
"I had to." The admission fell from her in a whisper.
"Did I push you too hard? Too far?"
"No." Amir was the ideal master. He understood her needs and predicted her wants and cravings. It was comforting as well as disturbing.
"Did something scare you? You know you could tell me. Our relationship doesn't work unless we communicate."
He spoke as if they still had a relationship. She cleared her throat, breaking the spell. "You did nothing wrong, Amir. It's my fault and my decision."
He reared his head back. "Your answer is unacceptable."
A sad smile formed on Belinda's mouth. She could handle his haughty arrogance more than his kind understanding. "That's too bad, Amir. It's the only answer I'm willing to give."
"You're not going to tell me why you disappeared?" His voice raised a notch, startling Belinda. He never lost his temper. "You discarded your job, your home, your life, and you're not going to tell me a thing?"
"No, I'm not. It's been good seeing you, Amir."
He fastened his hand on her arm. She ignored the heat forking through her skin at lightning speed. "I could make you tell me." He said the words casually.
Belinda shook her head. "No you couldn't. You're not like that. It's against our agreement." She didn't question his integrity. Amir Khan never strayed from the parameters of a promise. He honored his word because it was a part of him.
"Why should I follow our agreement? You didn't."
Her eyes squinted with confusion. "What are you talking about?"
"The contract," he answered. His innocent expression did not bode well for her. "The one we made up and signed."
"What's the big deal about the contract? It's not even a legal document. We signed it as Sahib and Noukrani. Not to mention that the mediator at the D/s club is hardly a lawyer. He's more like a matchmaker."
Amir ignored her reasons. "You ended the relationship before the stipulated time was over. You ended it without telling me."
"So sue me," she said irritably as she shook off his hand. She could easily get out of a slave contract. A fancy term for writing down what the master and slave will and will not do in the relationship. It was made only to protect the participants, not make them indentured for life.
"Now there's an idea. I might do that."
She froze from the simple statement. "No, you wouldn't." Could he? The contract wouldn't hold up in court, but maybe that wasn't his goal. He probably had a stable of hungry legal advisors and a disposable income that could feed a nation. But would he reveal his private life to get an answer? Would he destroy hers because she didn't give him what he wanted?
"I won't if you tell me why you left."
Belinda strode to the door, her feet suddenly wobbly in her shiny black pumps. "I have nothing to say and I'm not the least bit impressed by your threat. You wouldn't harm your precious image."
"Try me."
"I've tried you. I'm moving on." She regretted the words the moment she said them. She struck out at the first flash of panic and she was disgusted in her behavior.
"With that boy?" Amir sneered at the thought.
"Ryan is hardly a boy."
"Does he know how to handle you?" Amir stuffed his hands into his pockets and leaned up against the door. There was no way she could open it without a fight. "Or is that the attraction now? You want to walk all over him?"
"It's none of your business," she snapped out.
"True, but it does make me curious. Why choose a man who can't handle you? Who clearly isn't your equal?"
"Are you finished?" She held the briefcase in front of her legs. Belinda gauged the weight, vaguely wondering if she could use it as a battering ram.
"What are you so afraid of?"
"I am not afraid." Belinda enunciated each word.
Amir was not impressed. "Yes, you are, and I'll find out why."
"Why waste your time? Can't stand it that I called it quits first?" she asked, using her viciousness as her last weapon. "Did I bruise your ego?"
"You put me through hell."
Belinda jerked at the gravelly voice. She looked at him -- really looked at him, heedless of her previous decision not to make eye contact.
"I have not slept for three months," Amir admitted, the bleakness diffusing the battling gleam in his brown eyes. "My security team looked for you, but since I never knew your full name...I didn't know what happened to you," he whispered fiercely. His bronze skin took on an ashen pallor as he obviously remembered the sickening dread he'd lived through.
Belinda's mouth gaped open. She'd had no idea. She had thought he'd seen her as a sex partner and nothing more. "A-Amir," she stuttered, "I didn't know. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Amir drew back. "Your apologies mean nothing."
She realized the truth in that. A few words did not erase the past. "It's all I can offer."
"I want more." He stood straight and twitched his elegant jacket back in place. "I want you to fulfill the remainder of our contract."
"What! No way!" Damn it, he found her weakness and now he was going to use it. She wanted to stomp her feet and have a full-blown temper tantrum.
"You owe me."
Belinda suspected that was becoming his mantra. "Not like this," she hedged. She pressed her lips together in a mulish line.
Wait a second. She frowned. Was she even considering agreeing? How had she gotten to this step? She realized she'd handled their break-up poorly, but it didn't mean she had to have sex with him to make up for her behavior!
"I'll make it easy on you," Amir said in his familiar superior tone, "since you can't stand the idea of me. We'll finish the contract this weekend."
"Two days? You'll release me after two days?" Her traitorous heart sang at the offer. Her body thrummed with anticipation. Her mind responded with open suspicion. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. You just need to grovel at my feet, expose your soul to my eyes only, and submit to my every whim."
She rolled her eyes while her stomach did flip-flops. "Is that all?"
"Worried, Noukrani?"
She turned her head away, biting her tongue since her big mouth had already got her in trouble.
Amir leaned closer. "Or turned on?"
She whirled back at him. Eyes glittering, nostrils flaring, her flushed face held nothing back as she silently damned him to hell.
He chuckled as he scooped out the necklace. "Wear this."
She wanted to shriek like a fishwife over the treatment of the necklace. Her necklace.
Belinda stepped back. "I didn't accept your offer."
"You're considering it." He pulled at her right wrist until she released her briefcase. Amir dumped the necklace in her palm.
"We'll meet Saturday," he announced as he curled her fingers over the tangled gold. "My secretary will give you my hotel information." He bent down and brushed a mocking kiss on her fingers. "Until then...think of me."
Belinda glanced at the clock again. She was expected at Sahib's hotel room in two hours. She tapped her pen against the edge of her desk, knowing she shouldn't go. Accepting the invitation would be incredibly stupid and dangerous to her newly mended heart.
However, it would be closure.
"Looks like you need some coffee."
"What?" She jerked and saw Ryan standing in her office. The door leading to the sidewalk was wide open. "Oh, Ryan. I'm sorry. What did you say?"
Ryan smiled as he closed the door. "Belinda, you're too stressed out these days." He presented a steaming cup of coffee from the corner deli.
Belinda shrugged and rose from her seat. "It's work." She motioned to her cluttered desk and hoped Ryan would take the hint. He looked ready for the office wearing a white-button down shirt, navy slacks and a blue paisley tie. Ryan never worked on a Saturday and always tried to talk Belinda out of the habit.
"Where are you going?" She sipped the fragrant brew, wondering why she couldn't be passionate about someone who indulged her.
Ryan grimaced. "The big shots want me to come in and work all weekend on some stupid project."
Belinda's eyes widened with delight. "Oh, that's great." She set the coffee on the desk.
"No, it's not."
"No, really." She hurriedly explained her upbeat response. "Your managers must think very highly of you."
"Possibly. All I know is that I was specifically requested to work on the Amir Khan project this weekend."
Her stomach took a plunge. "Is that right?" Was Sahib the cause of that? Was he making her acceptance a certainty?
"It's a bummer. I wanted to take you to Forest Park this morning."
Belinda ducked her head. "It sounds nice, but I'm going to be -- out of town working on a project."
"I see." Hurt flashed through Ryan's eyes. His mouth was almost set into a pout. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
"I got the go-ahead two days ago."
"Oh, okay. I'll keep an eye out on your townhouse while you're gone."
"You're sweet." She impulsively reached over and gave him a hug. She drew back, but Ryan didn't let go. She frowned. "Ryan?"
"Sorry." He let go abruptly.
She smiled shyly. Ryan was thoughtful and kind. Attentive and charming. Attractive, too. She wished her heart would thump from his presence.
But maybe it was good that it didn't. She was safe from falling in love with Ryan. She could grow to love him, but wouldn't experience the drama and devastation.
Ryan read her stillness as hesitation. He rested his hand on her cheek. Belinda relaxed at the comforting warmth and leaned into his palm.
She wondered if he knew anything about domination and submission. Would he be interested in experimenting? Could he sexually dominate her? How could she broach the subject?
Ryan brushed his lips against hers. She kissed him in response. He tasted of coffee and eagerness. The tingling in her lips wasn't earth shattering.
But that was good. She had to remember that.
His hands skimmed across her shoulders and down her back. She leaned closer into him. His hands flattened on her derriere as he slid his tongue into her mouth.
Belinda was relieved that her body responded. Her nipples hardened. Her blood danced with anticipation.
Her mind wandered.
Sahib wouldn't jab his tongue into her mouth at the beginning of lovemaking. He would tease her first by outlining her lips with its tip until she tried to capture his tongue. Since he hadn't given her permission to do so, he'd punish her by starting all over again, returning to chaste kisses. Then when she passed that phase, he would skim his tongue along the interior of her mouth and she would try not to draw him into her. By the time he French kissed her, she would be shuddering like a racehorse at the gates.
"I want you," Ryan murmured against her mouth.
Belinda pulled her thoughts to the present. She had to concentrate. "Tell me what you want," she said in her most seductive purr.
"I want you." His fingers dug into her bottom.
She grasped his tie and slid her fingers down the length. "No, tell me what you want me to do."
"Spread your legs."
Disappointment crashed in her. Spread your legs? That's it? It sounded incredibly boring, not to mention short. "No, no." She rubbed her pelvis against the front of his pants. "I mean, tell me what to do to you."
"I want to fuck you." He pushed her against the desk. "I want you to be wet, willing, and ready for me."
Belinda leaned against her desk, trying to remember her early sexual experiences before she'd discovered BDSM. She couldn't recall ever sitting back and letting the guy have all the fun.
She watched Ryan pull her T-shirt out of her jeans. His hands slipped underneath the white cotton and grabbed her breasts. A thrill tripped down her cleavage; it had been three months since a man had touched her. Ryan rucked her shirt above her breasts and fumbled with the front clasp of her bra.
He groaned as her breasts sprang open and revealed her pink nipples. He pushed Belinda onto her cluttered desk and bent his head over her chest. He greedily latched onto her nipple and sucked hard.
Desire bloomed inside her from the strong pull. The delta between her thighs felt moist and puffy. Belinda tried to focus on her arousal, but she felt too self-conscious. She didn't feel like she was a part of what was going on.
Ryan grabbed the waistband of her jeans and pulled down the zipper. He cupped her sex and she pressed against his hand. It felt... pleasant. Too pleasant, too vanilla.
She needed spice to feed her senses, stimulate her mind, and make her emotions explode. If she wasn't going to be a part of the lovemaking, her senses should rally against the absence rather than feel dull discontent.
"Wait." She had to stop before things got too embarrassing. "Wait!" She placed her hands on his head, but missed and hit his neck. Her fingers brushed his collar. An idea formed in her mind. She loosened the knot of his necktie.
Ryan raised his head, his eyes bleary with lust. "Forget the shirt, Belinda. Take off my pants and suck me off," he panted. He stepped back from her and ripped his belt off his pants, obviously deciding foreplay was over.
Belinda pulled the paisley tie off his neck. "First blindfold me."
"What?!" His hands faltered on her belt. He gawked at her with wide eyes and an even wider mouth.
"Never mind," she muttered, the tie slithering from her fingers.
Ryan stared at her as if she'd sprung another head. "Why do you want your eyes covered?"
"No reason. It was just an idea. Here, let me unzip that for you." She reached for his pants and Ryan took an instinctive step backward. "Or, perhaps you'd rather handle that part."
He hesitated. "I can't." he sighed, feeling like an idiot from his withdraw. Yet she'd made him feel...strange. "The mood is all wrong now." His husky voice held a note of accusation.
"I'm sorry."
Ryan turned away from Belinda and buckled his belt. He blushed. "I'm not into kinky sex."
His prudish tone set her teeth on edge, but Belinda decided now was not the time to discuss it. "I understand," she said calmly as she snapped her bra and pulled down her shirt. The uncomfortable silence scraped at her nerves. The rustling of clothes amplified in her ears.
Ryan whirled around. "I didn't think you were into that kind of thing." He flashed her a disillusioned look. Like she was a fresh-faced salesgirl who'd pulled a bait and switch on an unsuspecting consumer. "You seemed like a nice girl."
Belinda zipped her jeans up with a flourish. "I am a nice girl." Who just happens to enjoy sex. D/s sex. Lots of it.
"You know what I mean." He looked away.
Where had the sweet, kind, and thoughtful Ryan gone? She suspected since she was no longer 'a nice girl', she didn't get that kind of treatment. It was time to get him out of her office before the situation turned nasty. "Ryan, I like you a lot," she said as she walked to the door, "but I don't think this is going to work."
"It was working until you wanted to be hogtied."
Belinda rolled her eyes. "Hogtying is completely different."
Ryan took a step back, blinking his eyes. "You're right, this -- you and me -- it isn't going to work."
"That's too bad." She opened the door.
"Uh, yeah." Ryan glanced at her one last time. Sighing, he walked away. "I'll see you around."
She closed the door the moment he left. Leaning heavily against the wood, Belinda decided it was a good thing she had already come to terms about what aroused her. Still, Ryan's response was bothersome. It was so---well, backward. Thank God she hadn't intimated at more than being tied up!
Belinda locked the door with angry moves. The last thing she needed was for Ryan to cool down and come back to spout off a moral lecture. He should be flattered that she had tried to enjoy vanilla sex with him. She hadn't gotten righteous because it hadn't work and did nothing for her.
Maybe it was Ryan. Maybe she would enjoy general lovemaking with someone like Amir. Even though Amir preferred BDSM, he wouldn't be judgmental or repulsed by vanilla sex.
Would she feel as passionate for Amir if their sex wasn't as intense? She flopped into her chair and tried to imagine vanilla sex with Amir.
Belinda opened her eyes and shook her head. Intercourse was one aspect of their D/s relationship. Amir incorporated her mind and spirit. His dominating personality reveled in her acquiescence. She'd craved his control. Even if they had tried vanilla sex, it would have developed into some level of D/s.
She spotted Ryan's paisley tie on her desk. Belinda snatched it up and wondered if she could still catch Ryan.
Nah. Belinda settled back in her chair. Why bother. Ryan would consider it contaminated.
She slid the tie between her fingers. The thick fabric felt rough against her palms. The dark color contrasted against her pale skin. The length and weight would have made a perfect blindfold.
Curious, Belinda pressed the tie against her eyes. Absolute darkness. She loosely wrapped the tie around, wondering if it would be long enough. Her breathing became more erratic. She secured the fabric, welcoming the pressing knot against her skull.
Touch yourself. Amir's burred voice whispered through her mind.
Belinda's splayed hands slid past her cheeks and dragged down her neck. The shape of her face was rounder than she assumed; her throat soft. Her hands gravitated to the center of her collarbone.
Noukrani, must I be specific?
"Yes, Sahib," she whispered. Her voice barely reached her ears.
Touch your breasts. Cup them. How do they feel?
Belinda reached under her shirt and massaged her breasts. She unsnapped her interfering lace bra and ran her fingers along the underside of her breasts. "Soft...full..."
Heavy?
Her breasts were small, but at the word 'heavy', they were overflowing her hands. Her fingertips bruised the soft flesh as she tried to capture her breasts.
Tight?
Her skin stretched away from her nipples, like petals from the center of a flower. The tugging rippled through her muscles, causing her to moan.
"Yes," she answered mindlessly. How did he know? How did he always know how she felt?
Finger your nipples. That's right. Thumb the tips. Round and round.
Her nails lightly raked the puckered skin as she continued the mesmeric circles. Her nipples tingled, sensitive to the bump and brush of her fingers. Belinda imprisoned a nipple between her knuckles. She squeezed, hissing as her nipples stung.
Noukrani...you've been most disobedient. I didn't tell you to squeeze.
"I'm sorry, Sahib." She squeezed again, squirming in her office chair.
You must be punished. Remove your hands from your breasts. Under no circumstances are you allowed to touch them.
Belinda reluctantly did as she was ordered, her breasts burning for her touch.
You may proceed to your stomach.
She lightly touched her stomach, tickling her rib cage with the touch her breasts craved.
Take off your jeans and underwear.
Belinda stood up and unzipped her jeans. She shucked them off and grabbed the band of her underwear. She kicked them off and sat back down in her chair. Belinda sprawled her legs apart, desperate to continue.
Touch yourself lower.
Her hands skittered across her pelvis, bumping against her hip bone. She rubbed the jutted curve, feeling the connection straight from her hip to her breasts.
Lower.
Belinda's hand forked through her thatch of curls and into the slick wetness. She inhaled sharply through her nose as her inner walls surrounded her finger.
Harder.
She rubbed her dewy fingers against her clitoris, wanting it to be her nipple. Her nipples were tightening painfully. They were ready to pop off like the top of a shaken soda bottle.
Bring yourself to come.
"I can't," she whispered desperately. "I can't."
Touch your breast.
Her hands scraped her breasts, her fingernails raking her nipples. She squeezed them and the pleasure-pain ripped through her.
Heat unfurled from her chest and billowed across her shoulder and stomach before coiling to her clenching womb.
Belinda gasped as pure fire spattered across her skin before the white-hot orgasm mushroomed inside her. Every muscle tensed, harnessing the sexual energy, wanting to hold onto it until it was too much. She collapsed, sagging into her chair, gulping in air.
Her body trembled from the aftermath. Her legs felt boneless and yet they shook. Her arms twitched as she raised her hand and pushed the blindfold into her hair.
Belinda blinked, trying to adjust her eyes, to the glare of lights. Glancing around, the room felt empty. Void.
Because Sahib was not there.
Belinda's lethargy swirled into letdown. She wished he were here, which was not a good sign since she'd spent the last three months working him out of her life.
What did she want? To move on or to return to her old life? Did she want her freedom? Did she want peace and tranquility? What did she really want?
She mouthed the word. Sahib.
And Sahib wanted her, but only for the weekend. Was that enough? Was she prepared? He wanted to guide her back into sensual oblivion and quite possibly humiliate her in the process.
Belinda awkwardly rose from the chair. She would accept whatever he offered. He could punish and humiliate her. He could give her multiple orgasms until she passed out. She would accept anything if he held her afterwards, and held her close.
And God help her, she'd love every wicked moment of it.
Amir hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until Belinda appeared at the door of his hotel penthouse.
"You're here." He stood motionless at the threshold, staring at Belinda. She wore her hair down and the cascading silver white strands mesmerized him. Her pink sheath dress epitomized understated elegance. Her black purse and matching sling-back shoes added a hint of sophistication.
"Did you think I wouldn't show up?" She tilted her chin in defiance.
"Are you saying it didn't cross your mind?" he parried. His mouth twitched at her narrowing eyes. The tightness in his chest gave a little. He still understood her. What aroused and intrigued her. What scared and angered her.
But he still didn't know why she'd disappeared. And he may never find out.
Amir pushed the thought aside. He wouldn't think about that now. He couldn't lose focus. He had to do this weekend right. His goal was to remind her why she needed him. If all went to plan, he would win back his woman.
"Are you ready?" he asked as he ushered her inside.
"Yes."
Amir softly closed the door and watched Belinda jump at the hushed click. "Do you have the necklace?"
"Right here." Belinda busied herself as she rifled through her large purse and removed a red velvet pouch. She carefully retrieved the glimmering gold jewelry.
The special handling she gave the necklace filled him with optimism. Did she view their past and all it symbolized with that much care? He wanted to know as soon as possible, but the weekend was as much about resuming their relationship as it was about regaining his legendary control.
Amir stepped forward and held out his hand. Belinda didn't glance up as she laid the jewelry across his palm. Amir ignored the impulse to fist the necklace with a force that would brand the unique design into his skin.
He gathered the delicate ends of the necklace and stepped behind Belinda. She stood meekly silent, her body humming with nervous awareness.
"Gather your hair," he ordered as the ritual began. The three words kicked through him because it held the same meaning as 'open for me'.
Amir slightly bent over her and inhaled the faint scent of Chanel No. 5. Primal needs tore at him, exposing the savage male he hid deep inside himself. He wanted to claim her in the basest way. Imprint his body on her and make certain she would never desert him again.
Only that kind of domination was not his style. Nor her wish. The only supremacy he needed to wield was over her mind. Amir clamped down on his runaway thoughts, his unsteady fingers grazing Belinda's neck. She flinched from the touch.
Amir frowned. "Why are you hesitating?"
"I'm not." Belinda's voice was cool, but it was also a moment late.
He stepped away, taking the necklace with him. "Turn around and face me."
Belinda pivoted on her heel. Her hands were folded in front of her waist, her downcast eyes revealing nothing.
"Do not lie to me, Noukrani. Why are you hesitating?"
She paused and swiped her dry lips with her tongue. "It's been a while, Sahib."
"Whose fault is that?" He knew it had been a while. A while didn't begin to explain the three horrible, frustrating months.
"I meant...." Her gaze shifted from one side of the white carpet to the other. "Since I've been...involved."
Involved? That could mean anything, and he didn't particularly appreciate Belinda's newfound habit of speaking in euphemisms. It clouded the communication any D/s relationship needed. "In a scene?"
The shake of her head was barely noticeable. "Being intimate." She cleared her throat. "I haven't had sex with anyone since you."
Her admission thrilled him. He wanted to crush her against him. The need to do that was so powerful, Amir folded his arms across his chest and merely nodded his head in approval.
Belinda lifted her gaze and stared expectedly at him through her blondish-brown lashes.
"You wish to ask me something?" he asked gruffly.
"Has it been a long time for you as well?"
His fingers dug grooves in his white dress shirt. He wanted to fall on his knees and thank Allah for the gift of her concern. Amir raised his eyebrow in what he hoped was an aloof manner. "Is this your way of asking if I've found your replacement?"
Belinda looked away. "Yes, I guess it is."
"You are difficult to replace." He waited a beat. "But not impossible."
She frowned at his cryptic statement.
"A warning, Noukrani. Lie to me again and I will postpone this meeting." He reached out and grasped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Understand?"
She looked directly into his eyes. "Yes."
Belinda's responses jumped to attention as Amir wrapped the gold choker around her throat. She tried to control her choppy breathing, hoping that would be a calming effect to her quickening pulse. The sharp inhale only made her more aware of Amir's closeness. The musky sandalwood scent barely clung to his skin, but it still packed a wallop.
His arm brushed against her back. The fine hair at her nape stood at attention as he deftly closed the intricate clasp.
The metallic snap was probably tinny, but it sounded deep and loud to Belinda. Like a symbolic bong. Now she was no longer Belinda Hathaway. She was Noukrani, a female servant.
She gladly shed the real persona, even if it were for only a brief interlude. She wanted Sahib to make the decisions. Have Sahib take control, push and stretch her boundaries and then carefully guide her back to reality.
The only problem was Belinda wanted more than interludes. She wanted Amir in all aspects of her life, yet she didn't want to relinquish her identity and control.
"Face me, Noukrani."
Belinda shivered. He said the pet name in such a way that her spine turned to jelly. She turned to face him in the classic subservient pose of downcast face and folded hands.
Sahib cupped her face with both hands. His thumb glided across her cheeks. Belinda remained still although she wanted to respond to his warmth. He threaded his hands through her hair. He appeared fascinated by the silver blonde locks, as if he was seeing it for the first time.
His hands twisted sharply in her hair. Belinda winced at the delicious pull. She opened her mouth murmuring just as Sahib yanked her forward, reclaiming her with a kiss.
His kiss was coarse but thorough. The lack of finesse worried her. Sahib was always in control. Of her. Of him. Of the situation. Always.
Sahib probed relentlessly past her lips. He didn't indulge in seductive nibbles or coaxing flicks of his tongue. He plunged and conquered.
She was being consumed.
Belinda opened her mouth wider as the overwhelming sensation fed some deep-seated pleasure. She needed to be taken so completely like she needed the next beat of her heart. Fear skittered through her veins, not from Sahib or the situation, but by the need to not exist on her own.
Sahib tugged his hands out of her hair and gathered her closer. She felt surrounded by heat. The heat made her apart of him. She nestled closer while her mind warned her to make a fire to compete with Sahib.
His palms roughly made their way to the gentle slope of her hips. He gripped her buttocks and pressed her even closer. His long, blunt fingers bruised her as his hard erection ground against her soft mound. Belinda throbbed for his invasion, but would she become a part of him or he a part of her? Is that why she wanted him to fill her? So she could claim him?
Sahib pulled his mouth from hers. His brown eyes glittered with dark, swirling passion. "Lie down," he ordered softly. His hoarse voice blurred his words.
Belinda looked for the bedroom door.
"No, Noukrani." His tone was almost indulgent. "Lie down on the floor."
The floor? "Here?"
Sahib gave a brief nod.
She knelt down. What was he doing? Sahib was all for refinement and discipline, but he did it in sybaritic luxury, not with rug burn marring his knees.
She stretched back onto the floor, her arms close to her sides. Sahib towered over her. She was keenly aware of the crackling powerful aura.
He knelt at her feet which were still clad in black heels. She felt ridiculous being fully dressed while lying on the floor, but she didn't want to remove her clothes. The floor already stripped her of any imagined power.
"Stretch out your arms."
She did, her arms spread out like wings. The position made her feel more vulnerable. She had a sense of what those virgin sacrifices felt like as they awaited their fate in front of some dark underworld god.
Sahib hovered above her. He grasped her shaking knees with sure hands and pushed them apart. Belinda dropped her head back and sighed as he nestled deep into the V between her legs. It was like a homecoming.
A homecoming her spirit still fought. While her legs craved to wrap around his lean waist, her muscles shook with restraint. She wanted to fling her arms across his shoulders, but her brain warned that the motion would be too telling. She knew she wouldn't do it anyway simply because Sahib didn't ask for it.
He took advantage of her position. He kneaded her breasts with his hands. She closed her eyes as the friction of her bra scratched her breasts. Her dress tightened and twisted against her abdomen. She felt imprisoned from her clothing, but at the same time protected from his all-too-knowing eyes.
Belinda's breath caught in her throat as Sahib replaced his hand with his mouth. The cloth barrier didn't diminish the wet heat as he gave her breasts open mouth kisses.
Sahib began to suck. Belinda arched her back off the floor. The pull of his mouth yanked at her inner core.
"No, Noukrani," he murmured against her curves. "Stay on the floor."
"I -- I..." There was no way. Her body would splinter if she didn't move with the rollicking pleasure.
"I'm aware your breasts are extremely sensitive," he added in a mocking tone, "but you must demonstrate some control."
Belinda slid back down onto the floor. Her fingers raked into the plush carpeting as Sahib continued taunting her with his tongue.
Her nipples bloomed and then tightened under the sensual humid heat. She writhed against Sahib, desperately trying not to leave the floor.
She sighed with a mix of relief and regret as he slithered down her stomach, his mouth dragging against her dress. Sahib's fingers drifted to the moist juncture of her thighs. He rubbed the swollen flesh through her bunched up skirt and pale pink undies. Belinda flexed her knees, allowing him more access.
Sahib's journey to her inner thighs was unbearable slow. All of Belinda's nerve endings pulsed for attention in the secretive cleft.
Touch me there, her mind screamed. Oh, please touch me there. Kiss me, tongue me, fuck me. I don't care, just touch me there!
He mouthed her cotton-clad mound. She bucked and he clamped her thighs with strong hands.
She waited for his next move, panting and impatient, when the events crystallized in her chaotic mind. Sahib was stripping away her clothing without removing a scrap of fabric. Her barriers were meaningless against him.
The knowledge unarmed her. The sophisticated image no longer shielded her true self. Her shallow breathing echoed in her head. His hot breath wafted over her sex.
He pushed his tongue into her through the gossamer thin underwear. Belinda's legs spasmed.
She gasped from his audacious touch. "Sahib!" He proved once again that she could not hide her nakedness from him.
Sahib continued. Quick, hard jabs of his tongue. She fought not to press into his face. Belinda was wet, incredibly wet. She scooted closer to him, chanting for more as his hands dug into the soft pale flesh of her legs.
Her hips swiveled to the age-old rhythm. He exposed her and her needs. There was no use to hide. She rode his mouth, reveling in his sexy, appreciative growls. She felt the impeding orgasm gathering in her swollen nether lips.
"Oh...please, Sahib."
"Please, what?" His voice vibrated against her engorged flesh. Pleasure wracked her pelvis.
"P-please, I want to come." Her request sounded like a whimper.
He burrowed his face deep inside her. "Come for me, Noukrani."
Her orgasm shot through her legs and clenched her womb. She thrashed against his mouth, surrendering to the star-filled energy as Sahib held her in his strong, intimate embrace.
Belinda stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and stirred, realizing she was still on the hotel carpet. Plush or not, the carpeting rubbed her arms with the same finesse as sandpaper. She gingerly removed her arms from the floor and glanced around. Sahib stood in front of her and silently offered his hand.
She automatically accepted his assistance, the direct touch of skin on skin startling her. The second thought coursing through Belinda's head was Sahib's lack of arousal. He hadn't stripped and covered her body with his. He didn't enter her or require to be serviced.
She quietly studied his face. His features still held the intense and determined expression. The redden undertone of his complexion was the only clue that he found their session stimulating.
"The bedroom and bath are behind those doors," he said, indicating the doors with the tilt of his head. He walked to the wet bar by the table and chairs.
Belinda stumbled into the bedroom, rattled by the change of procedure. Why didn't he demand pleasure? Didn't he want her anymore?
Or was this a new brand of punishment? To show indifference after a few D/s scenes? If so, it was working beautifully. Before arriving at the hotel, she had a moment of panic at the possibility of humiliation during the weekend. Although sadomasochism never entered their relationship before, Sahib wasn't the type to allow wayward servants go unpunished. He would find a way to exact retribution. Obviously he found a more effective way than having her crawl on her hands and knees as he first threatened.
Well, the weekend had just begun. Who knew what Sahib wanted? She could handle the possible physical humiliation. It was a matter of gaining a mental distance from the situation. But she couldn't stop from feeling hurt by his lack of sexual interest.
Granted, she knew of D/s couples who didn't have sexual contact. They found the mental challenge more erotic than an intimate touch. Belinda could understand the allure, but it's not what she wanted with Sahib. It's not what she could settle for, especially since the only power she had over Sahib was sexual.
"Noukrani."
The low grumble compelled her to the bedroom door, but no further. Sahib leaned against the wall, his dark trousers and white dress shirt barely wrinkled. He stared out the large window that was tucked away in a mini-alcove, hidden behind brocade curtains. He seemed deep in thought as he nursed a glass tumbler filled with clear liquid.
Belinda tilted her chin up. "Yes, Sahib?"
He glanced at her and then gazed out the window. The brief look heated her through. "You've been a part of the D/s community before you met me." He made the statement in a casual drawl, prickling Belinda's instincts.
"Yes." The answer was simple, complete but cautious. If there was one thing she learned, she never gave too much or too little information regarding her previous D/s experiences.
Sahib swirled the liquid in his glass. "How many relationships?"
Belinda hesitated. She really didn't want to get into the conversation. "Three."
"You've had three masters?"
Damn. She had to be truthful. "Two masters. One sub."
He flashed a speaking glance.
"I explored domination at first," she explained. "I wasn't a natural."
"That must have been a shock to you," he said in a mocking tone. "A businesswoman -- a feminist -- not a natural dominant."
Belinda's chin tilted a little higher. "I no longer question or feel shame about what I crave, if that is what you are insinuating."
"Then why the secrecy?"
"It makes my life simpler."
Sahib held her steady with his piercing eyes. "Noukrani, remember my warning." His voice held no indulgence or mocking. It was firm and only the stupid would challenge it.
Belinda folded her hands in front of her waist, trying to appear at ease, but her legs shifted side to side in anticipation to bolt. "I prefer discretion and privacy. I don't think my sex life is anyone's business." She hoped he'd catch the hint.
"Discretion and privacy." He savored the words like the first sip of a vintage wine. "Yes, I think you crave that more than anything."
"Yes, Sahib." Belinda wanted to walk away. She didn't like this analysis. He was right -- she did crave privacy in all areas of her life. So what? There was nothing wrong with that.
Sahib's eyes flickered again on her figure before he looked out the window again. "Go take a nap, Noukrani."
She froze. That sounded like a dismissal. She wanted to question it. Debate it. But she knew the rules.
"Yes, Sahib."
Belinda woke up groggy and disoriented. Sensing Sahib's presence, she raised herself upon her elbow and squinted in the half-lit room. "Sahib?"
"Go back to sleep, Noukrani."
The voice came from across the bed close to the shadowy wall. She barely made out Sahib's figure sprawled out on the winged back chair. His white dress shirt gleamed against the darkness. It looked partially opened though she couldn't see his chest.
Belinda brushed her sleepy eyes with the heel of her hand. She had no idea if it was dusk or dawn. "Is something wrong?"
"No."
She frowned at his tired, ragged voice. Why wasn't he sleeping? Why had he chosen to sit by the bed? Was he keeping watch over her? Maybe to prevent her leaving in the middle of the night?
Belinda twitched off the sheets and rose from the bed. She still wore her pink dress, but the creases and wrinkles ruined the refined look. She padded barefoot across the carpet floor before Sahib could disapprove.
She squatted next to his chair. "What is it?" she probed again, curling her fingers on his wrist. The white sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his sinewy forearms. She felt the tension and iron control underneath his hot skin.
Sahib didn't answer her question. He raised his hand and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. Belinda turned into his warmth and pressed her lips against the back of his hand.
A tremor rippled through Sahib. He paused for an endless moment and then gently pressed his fingers against her plump lips.
"Kiss me." His request, low and raw, was barely voiced. "Kiss my hand."
Belinda pressed her lips against his knuckle. Then another one. And another. She reverently held his hand with both of hers as she covered him with kisses.
Sahib accepted her quiet adoration. He didn't move forward or pull way. But he wasn't unaffected. He shifted in his chair and inhaled sharply.
Belinda moved to his other hand. She gave his thumb undivided attention. Pressing rapid kisses against his heated skin, she covered his entire thumb and moved to the other fingers.
By the time she covered his hand with soft kisses, Sahib radiated with wavering control. She scooted back, not sure how he viewed her actions.
Sahib cleared his throat. "Continue."
Belinda knelt before him, realizing this was the perfect opportunity to show her love under the guise of devotion. She bent her head all the way to his bare foot and grazed her lips against his ankle. Her hair fell forward, sweeping against his foot like a silver broom.
His muscles clenched. His silent response gave Belinda the confidence to continue. She placed slow, deliberate kisses over his foot. She copied the next foot, trying to appear like an obedient servant while her body rejoiced from the liberating action.
She kissed his feet over and over. Open mouth kisses, slicking her tongue along the arches and bone. Tasting his male skin mingled with spicy soap. Puckering her lips against the head of each toe. Drawing the toe between her lips. She suckled, reveling in his choppy breathing, feeling the pull in the roof of her mouth and the twin tugging in her abdomen.
She wanted to express her love even more. She straightened her back and crawled between his sprawled legs. Belinda felt protected and powerful between his lean thighs. From his hard arousal, the knowledge of her desirability zinged through her veins and bloomed through her nerve endings. She felt alive, beautiful and womanly.
She concentrated on Sahib's face, rising off her knees so she could place kisses on his forehead and temples. She dragged her lips across his cheekbones and nose, grazing his lips with her own before worshipping his jaw and chin.
The heat from his chest was becoming unbearable. Belinda trailed kissed down his throat and across his collarbone. Sahib's chest rose and fell. His nipples appeared as tight nubs in the whorls of black curls.
She burrowed her face into his chest. The hard sleek muscles tightened from her intimate nearness. Belinda kissed his chest with abandon, showing no pattern but offering her complete and unfettered adoration. Every time she brushed against his hard nipples, her own tightened like flower buds waiting for spring.
She glided her lips across the waistband of his trousers. Her own abdomen tingled with anticipation. She wanted to kiss him everywhere, but she knew she had to ask for Sahib's permission. She pressed her fingertips against his waistband and looked at Sahib's eyes. They were closed. Would he deny her? Would he find this as another form of punishment?
Sahib lifted his hips off the chair, silently granting her request. Belinda tore at his fastening, greedily kissing the newly exposed skin and inhaling the musky male scent. Belinda slowly unzipped his pants, one metal tooth at a time, mouthing what she uncovered.
His penis sprang from his pants, hot and hungry. Belinda held his length as if he were a sacred object. She felt the deep pulsing under the heated velvet; it mirrored the throb at the very center of her. He twitched and flailed beneath her touch.
Belinda kissed the rounded tip before raining kisses over every inch of Sahib's penis. It stretched beneath her mouth, the branched veins bursting under the dusky smooth flesh. She teased him with the length of her hair, swishing it across his bare flesh. She then pressed her face against his wiry curls as she kissed his heavy, fragrant testicles.
Sahib's tense fingers dug into his chair. His head was thrown back, the tendons of his neck prominent. Belinda brushed her lips against the weeping tip of his penis, rubbing the moisture from the head to the base until it shone with the musky wetness.
Belinda circled her mouth around the peak of his penis. She opened wide, allowed him past her teeth before withdrawing completely. Sahib hissed. "May I?" she asked knowingly.
"Yes." Sahib granted through clenched teeth.
She surrounded him with her loving hot mouth, sucking him ferociously. She drew him in as far as she could, wanting him to fill her to the fullest. She squeezed and kneaded his testicles with her hands, encouraged by his raw, broken demands.
"Noukrani...just like...," he bellowed, rocking under her. "Damn...that's it... I...your mouth...so hot...wicked...Noukrani!"
Sahib grabbed the back of her head, scraping her scalp with rough hands and he held her fast. He thrust in her mouth with powerful jerks. An animalistic roar tore from his throat. She swallowed his offering, greedily milking his penis for more until he sagged back into the chair from exhaustion.
"Your first master..."
Belinda closed her eyes wearily. They were together in bed, lying in a spoon position. They wore their clothes, mussed and twisted like useless armor. The heat of his body against her back made her defenses weak. Which Sahib probably knew as he brought up topics she didn't want to discuss.
"What was wrong with him?" Sahib persisted as he idly wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger.
She stared at the framed watercolor on the opposite wall. "You're assuming too much."
"I know many D/s relationships that last for decades." She felt the length of her hair twirl around his finger. "I thought ours would as well."
Belinda refused to feel the bittersweet pain from his words. She hurriedly answered his question. "It turned out that my first master knew very little about domination. He didn't understand the meaning of power exchange."
"And the second?" His finger drew closer to her skull. Around and around."He was too weak. Too lenient. I couldn't trust him to make exploring safe."
His finger rested right above her ear. "And me? What is wrong with me?"
"Nothing."
He curled his finger, pulling the hair at her temple. She winced. Sahib took no notice as he said, "I told you not to lie."
"I'm not lying." She kept her eyes on the bland watercolor. She wasn't prepared for this. If she couldn't walk away, she would hide deep within.
Sahib tightened his grasp on her silvery hair. "There is nothing wrong with me as a master and yet you left. There's no logic in that."
Belinda remained silent. Let him think she was illogical. She won't be trapped into an argument; she would surely lose.
The bed dipped. Sahib's face was over hers. "Answer me, Noukrani. What makes me a poor master?"
She didn't give him a sideways glance. "You are not a poor master."
He grabbed her shoulder and turned her on the bed so she had to face him. "You are deliberately being disobedient."
"No, I'm not, Sahib." She wasn't. She was telling the truth. Well, part of it. Belinda lowered her eyes, taking refuge in the subservient role. "I promise."
"Then give me the truth!" Sahib eyes glittered with anger. His hands trembled on her shoulders as he obviously fought the urge to shake her. "Once and for all, why did you leave me?"
Belinda's heart quaked. She wanted to dissolve his anger and soothe his frustration, but she couldn't give him the answer. She couldn't tell him that she loved him. She might as well serve her identity on a silver platter. Giving Sahib her love would destroy the power exchange and he would gain total control. But if she didn't tell him, he would punish her.
He would punish her, but she would still hold all the control.
She risked a glimpse of his face. He was angry, a frustrated anger that stretched his skin over his skull. But he wasn't enraged or overwhelmed with fury.
Belinda knew she could accept his anger head-on and handle his punishment. She trusted him and knew he would not abuse his position.
As her heart pounded in her ears, Belinda purposefully pressed her lips together. Sahib's eyes widened from her blatant disregard of his order. Belinda looked away.
Her courage dripped away as Sahib's anger vibrated across her. She heard the ticking of his wristwatch and focused on the sound rather than her master's disapproval.
"Stay here," Sahib ordered as he bolted off the bed. "Do not move." It was only when he slammed the bedroom door that she had the nerve to exhale.
Amir stormed into the sitting room and to the door. He had to leave. He had to step away from Noukrani's infuriating existence before it was too late.
He stood before the door, his hand on the knob. Amir wanted to punish her. Punish her for hiding, for lying. Punish her for leaving.
And that's why he had to get out of the room quickly. His punishment would be for revenge. It wouldn't assist either of them in their sexual exploration.
Amir stepped away from the door and raked both hands in his hair. He had almost become a monster a few minutes before. He realized that Noukrani would never reveal the reason behind her disappearance.
Knowing it had to do with something he did -- or didn't do, Amir wanted to rip the reason out of her. He wanted to whip her. Beat her. Humiliate her. He wanted to destroy her.
The darker side of him was frightening, but he held it together before he gave life to that sinister side. Amir stood still, hands on his hips as he pondered his actions. Somehow he managed to gain control over himself when he was at his most primal and emotional.
He did it. After three months, he managed to regain his iron will, his rock hard discipline. He could stand firmly at the top of his world and not fall to his knees. He wielded power and reined in his impulses.
He was controlling himself better than he controlled her. But that was good. That was what it really was all about, disciplining the self.
Amir aimlessly wandered around the sitting room. He was an imbecile. He had made an almost fatal mistake by focusing on Noukrani's secret. Their last few days would be spent in a selfish battle of wills.
He had to accept defeat and repair his mistake. If he were a good master, he would forget about getting to the truth to calm his soul. It will always linger in his mind, but the more he forced it from Noukrani, the more she would hide.
And hiding is what she did best. It might make her feel stronger, knowing that no one knows her. He had to prove that revealing her true self to another would not make her a slave to her emotions or to another. It would set her free.
Amir returned to the bedroom an hour later. He was calm and in control. Noukrani was in the same position. She did not look up as he strode next to her.
"You have been very disrespectful. I cannot allow it to go unpunished."
Noukrani's muscles hummed with tension as he waited for her response. "What is the punishment?" she whispered.
Amir stuffed his hand in his trouser pockets. "You must remove your clothes and be naked for the remainder of your stay."
Startled, Noukrani jerked her head up and stared at Amir's face. He fought to keep his expression unreadable.
"Why?" Noukrani continued to spluttered, fisting the fabric of her dress and drawing it closer to her chest. "What's the point in that?"
"I choose to remove your hiding places," he explained in a gentle voice.
She looked away. "I'm not hiding."
"You hide the truth, you hide your reasons, and you hid from me. No more hiding."
Noukrani remained silent.
Amir frowned. "What are you so afraid of?"
Her jaw stiffened, as if calling her afraid was a vicious word. She straightened her shoulders and raised her chin. Her eyes gleamed with challenge. "I am not afraid of anything, Sahib."
She rose from the bed with defiance. Her nose flared as she wrenched down the collar of her wrinkled pink dress. The light from the other room slammed against the gold necklace. It reflected sharply like Noukrani's anger.
Damn. Amir grinded his back molars as Noukrani reached behind her back and pulled down the zipper. She's going to do it. Normally she would try to talk her way into a less stringent punishment, but she managed to throw one over on him. Only he couldn't show that; he had to appear in charge and prepared. Amir shifted his stance and struck an unaffected pose.
"I am not worthy of your thoughtful lessons, Sahib," Noukrani said in a perfectly modulated voice. Mockery edged her words, but she was too smart to be obvious. "I am humbled by such a generous teacher."
Amir folded his arms across his chest. His plan had already made a sharp, unexpected detour. He might be wrestling with the wisdom of his punishment, but he couldn't back down now. Especially in front of her effective guilt trip. "I did not give you permission to speak, Noukrani."
Her eyes narrowed. Amir responded by raising an eyebrow.
She leaned forward as her dress gaped open. Amir belatedly realized some emotion flashed through his face when Noukrani gave a superior tilt of her chin. She slowly shimmied out of her dress, revealing her curves inch by inch.
Heat roared deep in his gut as she revealed the pale pink bra. It was barely there, nothing more than a wisp of lace and cotton. Her blush colored nipples stood proudly, tightening under his gaze.
His groin tightened painfully until his skin stung. Amir shifted with discomfort, stopping in mid-movement as he saw a trace of a smile on Noukrani's lips.
She bunched the dress in her hands and skimmed it down her stomach. Amir wished it were he undressing her. There would be no slow dragging of cloth over warm flesh. He would pluck off every scrap and then tear off his own. His wishes added another dimension as Noukrani wiggled the dress over her hips.
His breath caught in his throat when the pink material slithered into a pool by her feet. Her pink underwear was sheer, offering a tantalizing glimpse of pale curls between her thighs.
She placed her hands on her hips and jutted her breasts forward. Desire kicked him in the small of his back and roared through his veins.
Noukrani tossed her hair. The silvery mane rippled under the soft lights. The necklace mocked and beckoned. Amir wanted her. Wanted her badly.
Control, his mind barked out like a drill sergeant. Control yourself.
"That's very nice, Noukrani," he said, aiming for a holier-than-thou attitude, but he wasn't quite sure if he met it. "Please continue."
Noukrani paused. She grabbed the front of her bra and fumbled with the clasp. Just when Amir was ready to offer assistance, the bra gave way. Noukrani held the fragile lace in her fists before pulling the bra from her breasts.
Amir's body ached. His hands craved the touch of her small curves. He could taste the flesh that held the scent of Chanel No. 5 and sweat. Her heartbeat would thud loudly in his ear.
Noukrani leaned forward, her breasts swinging as she sluiced her underwear down her legs. Amir hastily swallowed his groan as his gaze lingered on her naked hips.
She kicked the underwear away and slowly straightened to her original pose. Only this time there was no challenge; it was all defense. Amir dragged his sight up to meet her eyes. His heart swelled as her feminine arrogance was diluted with vulnerability.
He couldn't take it anymore. He had to touch her or burst into flames.
Amir stepped forward. She jerked back.
He raised a gloating eyebrow and walked around her, his arms casually clasped behind him.
Noukrani glared at him. "I am not afraid of you."
"You're watching every move I make," he replied, stalking slow, methodic circles around her. "Either you're nervous or you can't keep your eyes off of me."
She snapped her head so she could stare straight a head. Her mouth twisted in a scowl. "I'm being cautious. That's a big difference than being nervous."
"Glad to hear it. But I didn't ask. Please refrain from speaking unless it's requested." He pressed a silencing finger against her lips.
He dragged his finger across her lips, gently pulling the soft pinkness toward her chin. He felt Noukrani resist his touch. Amir removed his hand. She pressed her lips closed, her blue eyes flashing defiantly.
Amir placed his fingertip at the seam of her mouth. He drew small circles on her tight lips. Around and around. Soft, teasing circles that slowly ate away the tightness. Her bottom lip began to relax. He stroked it with lulling slowness until her top lip peeked out from hiding, pleading for attention.
He pressed his finger down on her mouth, circling her lips until they became rosy. Until her lips parted and his own mouth burned for her touch.
Amir trailed his finger on the interior of her lips, grazing his nail along her even white teeth. She instinctively pushed him out with her tongue.
"Don't do that again," Amir warned her as he dipped his finger in her mouth again. She must accept his touch and his domination over her.
Right now he would rather be rimming her lips with the head of his penis. He gritted his teeth as the image flashed across his mind while her hot, moist breath wrapped around his finger.
Amir reluctantly withdrew his hand from Noukrani's mouth. He stroked her cheek with his hand, reveling in the soft heat. He cupped her other cheek with his other hand and roamed his finger across her face, leaving his fingerprints. His scent. His most basic claim.
Raking his hands through her glorious hair, his dark skin disappeared in the silky silver. Noukrani titled her head back and closed her eyes. A purr rumbled in her throat as his fingers traced the outline of her scalp.
Her expression was of hidden passion. So desperate not to show how she felt. How much she longed to beg.
"Open your eyes, Noukrani. I want you to watch your master claim you."
Her eyes flickered open. The blue, usually startling, was clouded with a storm of conflicting emotions.
He untangled his hands from her long hair and smoothed his fingers across her shoulders. She immediately shrugged him off. Amir ran his hands down her arms. Up and down. Up and down. Rubbing away the patches of goosebumps, stoking the inner fire until her pale skin blushed.
Amir circled his fingers around her wrist. Her pulse galloped, the tender skin twitching under him.
He stepped behind her. Tension coiled her body. Her spine was ramrod straight. Amir saw her turn her head abruptly and stopped. She was determined not to show her vulnerability.
Amir brushed his fingers along her spine. She arched away. Amir curved his hand around her and splayed his fingers on her breastbone, teasing the slope of her breasts. Her heart leapt under his touch.
He stroked her spine and breastbone in unison. Slow and gentle. Fast and rough. Slow and rough until she shuddered and quivered, her spine bowing under his hand.
Amir stepped in front of her and returned his intense gaze on her flushed face. Her eyes glistened with lust. Her breasts heaved with every harsh gulp of air. Her nipples were tight and protruding.
Amir grasped the underside of her breasts. He wanted to nuzzle them and suck her nipples until they turned a purplish-red. The exact shade when Noukrani would scream with unabashed fervor for him to plunge into her.
Instead he lazily brushed his thumbs against her hardness. He felt anything but lazy. On fire. Tight. Ready to explode. He held himself in check as Noukrani moaned when her nipples tightened.
He plucked at her nipples, twisting them while listening to Noukrani's breath hitch in her throat. He rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Noukrani bit back her pleasurable sigh, catching her lip with her teeth.
Amir continued rolling her nipple as he stroked her stomach with the other hand. His fingers tripped down her ribs. He dipped his fingertip in her navel, filling it. Expanding it. Her muscles trembled around him. He wanted to spread her legs and drive into her. Feel her body accept and suck him in.
Noukrani thrust her pelvis against him. Amir was more than willing to oblige. He ignored the path he was taking and immediately cupped her sex.
She was so hot. So wet. He rubbed his hand against her swollen, engorged lips.
Noukrani shook. Her knees bent and she widened her unsteady stance.
Amir removed his hand from her nipple. She whimpered, closing her eyes and lightly tossing her head side to side.
Plunging his fingers into her, Noukrani gasped with satisfied delight. She bucked against his hand, wanting more. Wanting whatever he could give.
Amir clasped her hip. His hand skimmed the curve of her derriere. He dipped his finger along the crease.
Nourkani gasped, her body tightening. Her eyes blasted open as one of his hands teased her clitoris while the other taunted her puckered rosebud in the back. He silently met her blinking eyes, dipping his finger into the shadowy cleft.
Noukrani quivered. He could see the waves of pleasure sweeping her body. She grabbed his shoulders and burrowed her face into the crook of his neck. She was unable to withstand the sinful gratification on her own.
Someone knocked on the outer door. The noise ricocheted through the suite. 'Room service,' a male voice boomed out.
Noukrani jumped and bolted from Amir. She wrapped her arms around her body, flashing a panicked look at the door.
"Relax," Amir said, wanting to tear the head off of the guy behind the door. He made his way out of the bedroom with some difficulty. His ravenous, penis made it impossible to walk. "It's just breakfast. I'll let you know when he's gone."
Noukrani looked down at her clothes. She made a grab for her dress.
"No clothes, Noukrani." He fought his instinct to offer her clothes back.
She froze and gave him a horrified glance. "I can't eat like this!"
"You can, and you will." Amir closed the door behind him, wondering exactly who the punishment was designed for.
"Do you like St. Louis?" Sahib asked as he laid the cloth napkin onto the polished breakfast table and reached for his teacup. The clink of china and silver scraped across Belinda's nerve endings.
"Yes," she bit out, tightening her arms across her breasts.
"Drop your arms," Sahib commanded. "I forbid you to hide."
She wanted to tell him to go to hell. Wanted to clamp her arms around her even tighter. But she needed to prove that she wasn't hiding. If she could do that, he wouldn't delve so deeply for the answers.
Belinda slowly released her arms and let them drop from her breasts. She purposefully placed her hands on each armrest and cupped the edges. Leaning back in her chair, she winced as the needlepoint scratched the spot between her shoulder blades. Her buttocks prickled with awareness from the rough cushion while her knees flinched every time they brushed against the tablecloth.
She wondered if she stumbled into some weird European art film. She couldn't believe Sahib could conduct idle chitchat while dining with a naked woman. A naked woman who wore a priceless gold necklace. Who knows, maybe this was a routine situation for him.
"What made you choose it?" Sahib picked up the folded newspaper and scanned the headlines.
"It was far awa---" she bit her lip and looked down at her untouched meal.
Sahib glanced above the paper. "Far away from me?" he helpfully supplied.
She inhaled sharply. "From my former life."
"Why?"
She shrugged, uncomfortably aware that every movement made her cleavage deeper. "I needed a change."
"In every aspect of your life?"
She looked away and studied the drawn curtains. "All the aspects are related."
Sahib nodded his head in silent agreement and went back to reading the paper.
Belinda had enough. She could feel a scream building inside, ready to burst out of her body. "I feel ridiculous without my clothes."
"Why? I've seen you naked." He placed the newspaper back on the table.
"That was different." Her voice shook with exasperation. "We were usually in a hot session at the time. And you were naked as well."
"Is that what you prefer? Would you like me to strip and take you?"
Her mouth drew into a straight line. "No. And when do I get my clothes back?"
"When you no longer feel the need to hide."
"I don't feel the need."
"You keep trying to cover yourself up, you're looking everywhere but at me, and you can't talk about anything that isn't superficial."
"It's difficult to have a deep, meaningful conversation while naked."
"No, it's not. We had quite a few in the past." The harsh lines in his face softened. Belinda knew he was remembering their pillow talk. She cherished the moments when they shared their thoughts and dreams.
But those moments were as dangerous as they were treasured. She revealed more than what she wanted. During her unguarded moments she revealed her insecurities and past failures. She showed what was important to her, thereby making herself vulnerable.
Belinda knew she had to get him off the topic before he remembered some of her dreams. "You know, if I had an inkling what your plans were for this weekend, I wouldn't have accepted the invitation."
Sahib leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. "Now I'm intrigued. What did you think my plans were?"
She scooted her chair back an inch. "A few scenes."
"What?" His forehead crinkled with disbelief. "For old time's sake? You don't know me very well, Noukrani."
She rolled her eyes. "And you know me so well?"
"Yes, I do."
The simple certainty in his voice rattled her. She felt at a disadvantage and immediately went on the defensive. "If that's the case, then tell me your theory about my disappearance."
Her mouth clipped shut. She sat in frozen shock as her words reverberated in her head. How could she be so stupid? Belinda wanted to run and lock herself far away from Sahib. Instead she was motionless, feeling horribly exposed as he slowly set his teacup onto the table and studied her intently.
"You are an adventurous woman," he finally said. "You will accept any professional challenge and experiment with sex. But there is one thing you can't try. You wouldn't dare show your emotions. You won't reveal your soul to anyone."
Belinda scoffed while fear sizzled her stomach. He knew. He knew and he was using his knowledge to his advantage. "That is not true."
"I've had a lot of time to think about it." He tilted his head to one side. "Do you remember our last time together before you left?"
She frowned at the change of topic. She felt off balance, a dangerous place when dealing with Sahib. "What about it?"
"You showed more than you cared to."
"Nonsense." Her off-hand comment sounded wheezy to her ears. "Is this your way of saying it was good for you, too?"
He smiled, something he didn't do often, and she decided it was a good thing. Her heart clenched as his eyes shone with amusement.
"Did you have a problem with that particular theme?" Sahib asked.
"No, of course not."
"Good." He rose from the table. "Then we will do the scene again."
She drew away from him. "I can't remember it."
"Not a problem," he answered as he offered his hand. "I've replayed it in my mind every night since you left. I remember it exactly."
Belinda ignored his assistance.
"Of course, if you prefer, you can tell me why the last scene bothered you. That wouldn't be my first preference, but..."
Belinda stood abruptly, knocking her chair down. "I don't know why you have it in your head that I was bothered. If it means going through the motions again, so be it."
"Fine by me." Sahib hooked his arm around her waist. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine. She tried to shake it off. Belinda knew what to expect, so why the low pulsing sensation deep in her womb? She shouldn't be looking forward to it.
He swept the thick curtain with a determined hand, exposing the ceiling to floor window. The morning light blazed through. Belinda blinked and shielded her eyes as the downtown buildings reflected the sun.
"Walk up to the window and press your hands against the glass."
Belinda frowned at the windowpane. The last one hid her from the waist down. "It doesn't look safe."
"It's safe. I promise."
She slowly reached out to the window. The glass was surprisingly warm. Her hand curled and she rested her knuckles against the thick pane.
It's Sunday, she reminded herself. No one is out there looking in. They can't look in anyway. The windows are probably tinted.
Belinda curled her other hand against the window and stepped closer. Sahib hands closed over hers. His mouth brushed the crown of her head.
He trailed his lips down the side of her face, grazing across her jaw before seeking her mouth. She eagerly opened for his kiss. He claimed her until she was weak and breathless, resting her head against his shoulder.
Sahib slid his mouth down her throat, his hot breath fogging the gold necklace. Belinda pressed her forehead against the window, squinting her eyes closed.
I really don't want to know if someone can see me. The images were blurry as she opened her eyes just a slit. If someone saw her naked, she would just die. And yet, the idea of being seen made her wet. It made her heart jump against her breastbone.
It wasn't just about being seen naked. It was being seen as Sahib touched her. Having someone watching her expressions and reading the emotions behind it.
She gasped, her eyes widening as Sahib tweaked her nipples with rough fingers. Her hands flattened and slid, smudging the glass.
"Sahib!" She arched her spine away from his chest, thrusting into his hands. She frantically scanned the dark windows across from her.
"Yes, Noukrani?" he whispered in her ear, capturing the lobe between his teeth. "Tell me what you want."
Deep in her psyche, she knew she should beg for something traditional like making love in a bed. Sahib would refuse, of course, wanting to break down her need for convention. But she didn't want to risk it. What if he took her to the bed as some twisted sense of retaliation?
She didn't want that. Belinda felt wild and wicked against the window. Freedom unfurled from her chest as she glanced at the ground below. No one could see her, so her reactions held no consequences. She could open herself wide in front of the indifferent world and accept Sahib deep within. Show her love through the window without letting Sahib see.
"Tell me what you want, Noukrani." He lapped her ear with his tongue. Shivers danced down her neck and sprinkled across her shoulders. His breath billowed across her cheek like steam.
His hands roughly kneaded her breasts, leaving red streaks on her pale skin and a dull, insistent ache between her thighs. "I want you in me." Her voice was hoarse and throaty. "I need all of you in me, Sahib."
Sahib's groan rumbled through his chest. He rubbed his hardening penis against her, cushioning it between her buttocks, stretching the ultra-sensitized rosebud. His belt buckle bit into her back. Anticipation scattered across the back of her knees and radiated up her legs.
His hands speared through her dewy curls and swollen vulva lips. "Damn, you're wet," he said against her necklace. He burrowed his finger into her opening. The sound of skin sliding against wet skin filled the air. "So ready. So hot and wet."
"Take me." Take me. Make me yours. Make me a part of you. She whimpered as he slid his finger in her. "Just take me, Sahib."
He rubbed her inner folds while tugging his trousers open, driving his finger into her center with rough, hurried strokes. She felt the stir of his clothing and then the heat of his skin.
Sahib grabbed her hips with both hands. She swayed her back and pressed her breasts against the window. Her nipples stuck to the glass. Every move brought of twinge of discomfort.
Doubt fanned her mind. She wasn't so sure about being against the window. She didn't think she could confine her responses to the unseeing outside world. It felt different this time. More important. More intense.
Her breath caught in her throat as Sahib pressed the rounded tip against her core and her muscles insatiably sucked him. Sahib hissed through clenched teeth as his penis tunneled into her hot clasping channel. She groaned as he plowed into her eager flesh. His restrained shout vibrated through her back to her chest.
Belinda's nails scraped the glass, the shrieking rendering the air. She rocked against Sahib's length. Rode his penis as he rutted with sharp, fierce jabs. The molten friction seeped through her quaking muscles, the primal mating feeding her most base, most coarse desires. Her body grabbed and clung to him, sealing, fusing them as one.
"Sahib, I---I," She choked back the words, the begging not to let go. To hold on tight. Forever. She couldn't voice it and expose herself to a danger she wasn't capable of withstanding. She could only spread her legs further apart and accept every thick, pulsing inch of Sahib until it felt like it thrashed in her stomach. And then she shimmered against the cradle of his pelvis and accepted more.
Belinda pressed her hot face against the unyielding glass, offering the sun a glimpse of how Sahib's touch ruled her, how he surged through her body, storming past her flimsy defenses and captured her heart and soul.
Sahib's raw kisses slicked across her shoulder blades. Her body tightened into a coil that grew smaller and smaller, spiraling to her molten core. She was going to explode.
Belinda trembled, her legs spasmed. The powerful energy swirling inside her was frightening. A power greater than herself. She was going to burst into fragments, but she was too weak to put herself back.
Sahib angled his arm across her chest like a sash, anchoring her to him. His heat, his strength excited and empowered her. She knew he would let her soar to sun and land without crashing and burning.
Belinda was caught unaware as Sahib pressed his thumb against the nub hidden behind her fragrant wet thatch. She pressed her open mouth against the glass as the tight coil snapped. Fire splintered outward, robbing her of her breath as she silently screamed Sahib's name.
A kaleidoscope of vibrant colors scorched her mind as the white-hot energy ripped through her body, branding every fiber in its wake. Her climax triggered Sahib's. His choppy, unrefined thrusts bumped and knocked her against the window, bruising her tender skin. She opened her eyes, squinting from the brilliant sun as she braced her forearms against the pane.
Her blurry gaze skittered across the landscape. Something caught her eye. A flock of birds or...?
Every muscle locked as her gaze rested against an office window. A middle-aged man stared back at her in shocked fascination. His hands were in his jeans, stroking and tugging.
Sahib collapsed against her, his sweat slick body surrounding her with heat. It didn't reach the cold clammy fear that left her shaking as she slithered to the floor.
Feeling his gaze on her, Belinda burrowed deeper into the couch and folded her legs close against her. She turned and glared at him. He was stretched out against the chair, looking refreshed and replete. She wanted to slap the very masculine smile off his face.
"Not talking to me, Noukrani? You know that's very childish."
"Shut up."
The pause took a dangerous edge. "What did you say?"
"You heard me." Belinda didn't care about the perilous situation she was getting herself into. She experienced the worst of it. "I said shut up."
"If you are trying to be punished," Sahib responded in a patient tone, "you are going to be sorely disappointed because I refuse to indulge you."
"No." Belinda snarled. "I'm saying shut up because that's exactly what I mean. I've never been so humiliated in all my life. Is that what you wanted all along? Humiliate me to salve your pride?"
"You were not humiliated. The idea of being seen scared and excited you. You were seen at your most vulnerable and now you're angry about it."
"Bullshit."
Sahib shrugged.
"I hate you." She spat the word out.
For a moment he looked weary and alone. He wiped his face with a tired hand and the look was replaced with strained patience. "Yeah, you probably do right now. It's simpler for you to direct all your anger on me."
"Simpler?" The man didn't have the decency to say he was sorry. "It's logical. You put me in that situation."
"You wanted that situation, and you can't seem to handle it. You've worked so hard to be invulnerable that your mind is screaming for moments of susceptibility."
Was she supposed to fall down to her knees and thank him? The unbelievable arrogance of the man! "Right now the only thing screaming is my instinct."
"And what is it saying?"
"Revenge." She savored the word.
That got Sahib's notice. "Does it really?"
"Yes," she responded through clenched teeth.
He thought about it for a moment, assessing her anger. Sahib nodded slowly. "Perhaps revenge is necessary."
Belinda studied him with open suspicion. "What kind of trick is this? Now you're saying I have a right to be angry."
"You always had the right. I'm saying that if you think you deserve retribution, then so be it."
"Oh, thank you so much for your permission." Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
His eyebrows rose in a silent warning. "In case you forgotten, you need that according to our agreement."
"Screw our agreement. All I've heard from you is demands to reveal, expose, and show." She glared at him, her roiling emotions burning through her eyes. "Now it's your turn."
"Go for it."
\*
Amir was definitely curious. Noukrani wanted to take charge. Take control. Of course, she would get drunk with power. And that is exactly what she needed. She needed to follow her emotions just once.
"Stand up." Noukrani ordered.
Amir unfolded from the chair and stood toe to toe with Noukrani. The fire in her blue eyes stirred his lust. He did his best at hiding a smirk.
"Strip."
Amir undid the buttons of his shirt one by one. He wasn't blatant by mimicking a stripper. He drew her attention with his straightforward gestures. He took off his clothes like a man would do privately in front of his love. He removed his shirt and shrouded them in intimacy.
He shucked off his trousers and was naked as she. His arousal brushed against her stomach. Knowing they would finally meet skin against skin excited him.
Noukrani cleared her throat. "Sit."
He followed her order, fighting the instinct to pull her down with him.
"Not going to tie me up?" he taunted as she nibbled her mouth with indecision. He'll gladly offer guidance as the heady power intimidated her.
His brand of guidance had the desired effect. Her eyes flashed with annoyance. "You were not given permission to talk." With a quick, brash move, Noukrani straddled him. His arousal was now standing to attention as she bent her knees deep into his flanks. Her breasts were at eye level. The gold necklace winked at him, he was certain. He licked his lips in anticipation and smugly watched her blush from the chest up.
"Keep your hands on the armrests."
The entire time? He wasn't sure if he could, but her 'punishment' might be worthwhile.
She leaned down, clouding him with her essence and the faintest hint of Chanel No. 5. "Kiss me."
He moved forward, parched for her kisses. He almost captured her mouth, nipping the pouty lower lip. She pulled back, slowly dragging away her plush lip from his clutches.
"Kiss me," she repeated, a smile skittering across her mouth as he tried. Their lips brushed before she slid her mouth away. He moved to follow.
"Uh, uh, uh." She shook her finger under his nose.
Amir growled. He wanted them mouth to mouth, chest to breast. The teasing made him rock hard. Noukrani knew this, squirming against his penis already distended and stretched.
"Kiss me," she barely said, settling her mouth on his. She thrust her tongue into his waiting mouth. Amir hungrily tasted her. She explored every curve and crevice of his mouth. They dueled tongue to tongue as she pushed deeper into his mouth. He wanted to cradle her head and slam his tongue into her.
When Noukrani yanked her head away, they both gulped for air. Their eyes met. Amir's heart swelled with hope as he discovered the tenderness peeking through the lust and power. Her blue eyes were wide and then she slowly scowled. Noukrani straightened her spine, offering her breasts.
She fondled her nipples and stroked the curves just the way he wanted to. Her breasts overflowed her delicate hands. "Do you want to touch me?"
Was that a rhetorical question? "Yes." He reached for her with splayed, needy fingers.
She reared back and tsked. "No, no, no. I didn't tell you to touch me. Put your hands back."
He reluctantly complied, but his patience was wearing thin. He set his jaw and conveyed his attitude in silence. His bad mood seemed to give Noukrani more confidence.
"I asked if you wanted to touch me." She tucked her hands under her breasts and lifted them. "Do you want to fondle me?" she asked with pseudo-innocence as her fingertips circled the dusky aureoles. "Or grab?" She grabbed her breasts, marring the pale skin with dark pink splotches. Amir was tempted to soothe the marks away with kisses.
Her fingers pulled together at her tight nipples. "Do you want to pluck me like this?" She tossed her head back and hummed with pleasure as she stroke the hard nubs. "Or pinch them-- aah!" She cried from the sting. Hell, he was stinging, too.
"Would you like to?"
Amir swallowed. Blood pounded in his pelvis. "Yes."
"Would you like to taste my breasts?" Noukrani leaned forward and brushed her redden nipples against his open mouth.
Amir shuddered as he fought the urge to clamp his mouth on her.
"Swirl your tongue against my nipple?" She guided her nipple around his lips in a teasing circular motion. "Flatten your tongue against it? Lick my breasts?"
"Yes." His voice was raw.
She placed the tip of her breast against the slit of her mouth and she hastily drew back. "Oh...too bad." She pouted with regret. "That's not part of the plan."
He closed his eyes, drawing the last of his reserves. "What is?"
"This." Her hands grabbed for his penis. She gripped him tightly and roughly sheathed him with her drenched core. He winced, grappling for the last of his legendary control. His ragged breath trapped and expanded in his chest. He raised his hips to meet her.
"No. Don't move." She swiveled her hips and he wanted to roar like a tiger. Hell knows he wanted to pounce her. He clawed the armchair, wanting to sink his fingers in her bottom. Wanting to throw her on her back and possess her entirely.
She rode him slowly, rubbing her breasts and maintaining eye contact, wanting him to stare at her jiggling breasts in front of his face. He got harder and larger. Her hips twist and wiggled. Amir thought he was going to come immediately.
Noukrani gave him a knowing smile, but her eyes were glazed with passion. "Don't come." Her words were slurred. "Not until I say so."
Amir focused on his slipping control. He stared at the gold necklace and was faced with the distorted image of his ferocious expression.
She tossed her head back. Her silvery hair rippled across her shoulders. "Touch my breasts."
Amir hesitated. Sweat trickled down his back. It was the one thing he wanted the most. He would die if he didn't touch her. But once he did, he would come.
She held onto the chair and leaned further away from him, yet accepting more of him inside. "Touch them."
He grabbed them, welcoming the soft heaviness in his eager palms. Frissions of pleasure rippled from his hands to his arms. His hot testicles crawled into his abdomen, ready to explode.
"Suck them," she groaned, tossing her head side to side. "Bite them. Taste...eat."
He devoured her breasts with an insatiability that disturbed him. His hands, mouth, teeth, and tongue ravished her with abandon. Amir tore at her nipples until she mewled with pleasure.
"I love that," she chanted. "Oh, God, I love your hands on me. I love --." She pressed her lips together and looked away. For just a brief moment before she determinedly plowed her bottom into him. He bit her nipple, trapping it between his teeth as he vainly tried to hold onto the pleasure. It was too much. He gripped her breasts as he came with a roar.
The orgasm sent him out of his chair. He drove into her, the chair tumbling back with a crash. He grabbed her hips as she tumbled back, sheathing her to the hilt, farther than he'd ever been.
Noukrani grabbed his head and pulled his face against hers. She slathered kisses across his mouth, crying out as she came. A series of small convulsions washed through her until she collapsed against him.
Amir held her close, cradling her head into her shoulder. His heart pounded crazily. Their uneven breaths mingled as one.
Noukrani stirred. "Why do I get the feeling that you were in charge just now?" she complained in a exhausted murmur.
Amir shrugged. She had been too emotional to take charge, but he wasn't going to tell her that.
Noukrani persisted. "Yet you pretended that I was in command."
He caressed her glistening back with tenderness. The lulling sensation wouldn't tame Noukrani, but it might unruffled her pride. "You were in command because it was what you needed."
"And you would sacrifice all when I'm in need?"
Amir didn't break the rhythm of his strokes, but his heart did a triple beat. He couldn't mess this up and he couldn't scare her off. He had to say it simply. He looked straight ahead and simply said, "I would never abandon you."
He heard Noukrani's breath hitch in her throat. Amir stroked her back while his heart forgot to beat. He willed his muscles to relax, knowing she would pull away.
Noukrani cuddled closer into his chest and sighed.
Amir closed his eyes. He slowly exhaled as his heart beat faster.
Belinda stared at the moon. She knew it had to be said, but she didn't want to be the one to say it. She took an incredibly long time to dress, but there was nothing more to do but say goodbye. Taking a calming breath and ignoring her sinking heart, she turned to face Sahib. She stuttered into silence when she realized he had been watching her the entire time.
She indicated to the moon with the jerk of her head. "The weekend is over."
Sahib nodded. "And therefore our agreement is over." He didn't move from where he stood.
The silence made her feel awkward. She fiddled with her necklace. Sahib's attention wandered to the movement. He frowned before looking away.
His uncharacteristic gesture stilled her fingers. But then he looked up, his face emotionless. "Let me help you remove that," he said, moving forward.
She didn't want to give it up. She didn't want to go. But to follow the instinct would be foolish. She only felt this way because she was with Sahib. She would feel differently when she was out of his life.
"Thank you," she muttered, turning around and lifting her hair off her neck.
Within the flick of his hand, the jewelry sagged from her neck. She caught it and clutched it to her chest. Her throat felt naked. Alone.
Belinda turned around, her eyes on the necklace. She watched herself deposit the gold jewelry in his hand.
Tears burned the back of her eyes. "Goodbye, Sahib."
Amir was silent. She looked up.
"Goodbye, Belinda."
Her given name punctured her heart. Her throat squeezed shut. She gave a curt nod and clumsily reached for the door. Swinging the door open, she hurried out of the suite. She didn't feel free, but rather doomed. Doomed for a life of disappointment and lack of dreams. A life without Amir Khan.
Despair squeezed her lungs. She felt the choking sobs rising from her chest. It was only through sheer will that Belinda tampered down the need to wail. She furiously blinked back the tears as she tried to put one foot in front of the other.
Don't be a fool, Belinda thought with self-disgust. No tears. You've got more than you hoped for. You got an extra weekend with Sahib.
Only he's not Sahib anymore. Not to her. She was acutely aware of the missing choker. She felt bereft. Cast aside. But it didn't make sense. She made the choice to end it.
She stabbed the call button of the elevator, her pride welling up and refusing to look at the door to Amir's hotel suite. She fulfilled their agreement. She met every challenge and threw a few of her own in the process. There was no looking back.
Why did she only feel powerful when she acted as a submissive? Why was consenting to act as a sex slave such a liberating experience to her?
Was it because she had a special power over Sahib? That she could watch him shudder with slipping control. The ancient feminine knowledge would lick her blood when she saw that look in his brown eyes. That hopeful desperation that only she could give him what he needed -- if she chose to obey.
Belinda sighed deeply, wracking her slender body. If only she could enjoy the same empowering submission in all areas of her life. Why was it she could only feel totally alive while making love with Sahib?
Because she was in love with him.
But he didn't love her. At least not enough to fight and keep her.
The elevator opened with a swish and she stepped in. Only when the door slid shut did she lean heavily against the wall, allowing her tears to fall.
Two days later she received a handwritten letter from Amir. With quick short movements, Belinda opened the thick cream envelope.
"Circumstances have changed our situation and I must speak with you immediately."
The paper fell to her desktop. She stared at the ink slashes and strokes. Her instincts screamed for her to run to his office and submit. Instead she took a deep breath and considered her alternatives.
Her hands shook as she followed the words with her finger. Yep. That's what the letter said. She wasn't imagining it.
Her heart sang with the knowledge that he wanted to see her again. Her mind silenced her stupid heart.
She had to think of the facts. She was free of him. She didn't need to see him again. She fulfilled her contract. That hadn't changed.
Belinda looked at the letter again. Her fingers absently crinkled the edge. She stared at his name. It was simply signed 'Amir'.
Not 'Amir Khan'. Not 'Sahib'. 'Amir'.
She needed to find out what he needed. Let him be the one in need.
No! What was she thinking? He exposed every one of her facets except one. No matter how much power he had, he couldn't force it from her. Because she wouldn't let him. And she wouldn't let him use her love as a weapon.
Amir rose from his desk and buttoned his dark suit jacket with elegant precision. "Belinda."
"Don't Belinda me," she answered as she stopped in the middle of the room. She wasn't going to let him get close to her, and she certainly wouldn't let him get between her and the door. "And don't start changing our agreement."
He smiled, one end of his mouth kicking up in a wicked slant. Belinda discouraged the smoky seductive tendrils wrapping around her body. "You seem out of sorts. I apologize if my note disturbed you."
"Disturbed me?" She planted her fists on her hips. "It pissed me off."
"And why is that?" He walked away from his desk.
She warily watched him approach and calculated when would be a good time to step back. "I am not at your beck and call anymore. That part of our relationship is over."
"I see." He paused by the set of chairs next to his desk. "Would you be interested in being at someone else's beck and call?"
Her chin dipped down. "What are you talking about?"
"Realizing you don't know anything about the BDSM community in St. Louis, and also realizing that your disposition craves D/s sex, I was going to recommend a friend of mine."
Her mouth opened. Then closed. Opened again. "You are farming me out to your friends?"
"No." His scowl was downright outraged. "I was going to set up a meeting to see if the two of you hit it off."
I'm going to kill him. "That's very kind of you, but totally unnecessary. Not to mention doomed for failure."
"And why is that?"
"Because I don't want anyone else!"
He stepped forward, his brown eyes intense. "What do you want?"
"I want...." She looked away. "I want...."
"Look at me, Noukrani."
Her head snapped back. "You can't call me that."
Amir scoffed at her claim. "Because you're not wearing the necklace? Because our contract is over?"
She took a step back. "I can't stay."
"Coward."
The word scraped at her backbone. "I prefer Noukrani over coward."
He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "You're no longer my servant. If you had the courage, you could have been my lifelong servant."
Her eyes narrowed. "I have chutzpah to spare."
"Oh, of course." He nodded as if he was indulging a child. "That chutzpah was quite evident when you disappeared."
She stomped her foot. "It took courage to walk away, don't you understand. I had to walk away or I would have gladly handed over my life to you."
He had the audacity to roll his eyes. "You were not too deep into the scene."
"This had nothing to do with BDSM." She pointed a finger at him. "This is about you and me."
It was now or never. She would never get the opportunity to say it. It didn't mean anything to him, but she would not let this be one of her regrets. She claimed she had courage. She was going to show it to him and to herself.
Belinda looked into his eyes. "I l-." She paused and tried again. "I l-love you, Amir." Her voice shook. Damn it, I'm blowing it. The knowledge made her lips quiver even more. "Not as a servant l-loves her Master. That is why I l-l-left. You suddenly had too much power."
"You put me through hell and all this time you loved me?" His voice thundered.
Belinda eyed him cautiously. This was not the attitude she expected. "Yes." She mouthed the words as her voice deserted her entirely.
He was suddenly in her face, towering over her, his anger washing over her like tidal waves. "You left because you thought I would abuse that?"
"No, but,"
"You didn't trust me enough---."
"Amir! I submit mentally and physically to you. The one thing that you didn't have power over was my emotions."
"How could I?" He tossed his splayed hands in the air. "You refuse to give your emotions any power in your life. You cheated me and yourself because of it."
"Cheated!" The man was living dangerously. "I've never cheated in my l-life."
"I have loved you from the first time I met you. I did everything in my power to show you my love without frightening you. I protected you, made you feel safe and cherished."
"I did the same for you." Life suddenly became more colorful and vibrant. He loved her. He always had. She stepped forward, hope springing in her step.
"No." Amir held his hand up, holding her back. "You honored my position. You respected my power. You did not show me love. You couldn't have. That would reveal how you felt. Had you shown me that, our relationship would have been..." he struggled for the word.
"Wondrous," she completed. Amir's tormented gaze collided with hers. He nodded in agreement.
Belinda kept his attention, silently begging for him to make the next move.
He said nothing.
She realized it was up to her.
Her throat contracted. Her body felt suddenly cold. "I want to try again."
"No."
The air left her lungs. She blinked at the sharp, immediate rejection. Belinda wanted to hide in some forgotten corner and curl up into a ball. Her mouth felt dry as she kept pushing. "I will do better."
"Better." He sneered at the word. "And just how do we quantify that in our contract? How do we place parameters and boundaries on your demonstration of love?"
"I...I don't know." Couldn't he see that she was reaching out to him? That she was offering all that she had and she would disintegrate if he didn't accept?
How did a couple demonstrate their love? Belinda scanned her memory. Love. Honor. Obey. Forsake all others. She already did that.
She already did that, but with a safety net.
Her knees knocked. Her legs felt like cotton wool. She wanted to sit down. She wanted to pace. Belinda's head throbbed as her heart jumped. "Forget the contract."
Amir's head reared back. His eyes widened with surprise. "Excuse me? The contract is drawn up for our safety."
"The contract is too limited." She leaned closer to him. He didn't push her away. "It defines our relationship as strictly sexual."
Hope gleamed in his eyes, but Amir didn't budge. "But without the contract, you might get a D/s relationship you don't want."
"I want a relationship with you, both in and out of bed." She reached for his hand, nearly wilting when he didn't pull away. "If that requires no contract, then I'm ready to make that commitment."
"That's a lot of trust on your part." His other hand found the curve of her jaw. He crooked his finger under her chin and tilted her face.
"Are you accepting my offer?" she asked, her body humming with joy.
He lowered her head. His firm mouth almost brushed her parted lips. "What exactly is your offer?"
She smiled fearlessly. "To share my life."
"Completely," he added as their lips met.
Calm. Amir gripped onto his briefcase with such force it was a wonder it didn't disintegrate. Stay calm. He rocked on the heels of his custom-made shoes as the usually lightning speed elevator crawled up to the top floor where he resided. His nostrils flared as he tried to regulate his breathing.
Amir cast a quick look at the floor numbers. Bunching his other hand into a fist, he stuffed it into his trousers pocket. His knuckles brushed against the velvet jeweler's box.
Impatiently snatching the box, Amir clenched it to his palm. He wanted Belinda to like it. Wanted her to accept it.
They had only been living together for a few months. Amir knew long before that he wanted to be with Belinda forever. The uncertainty of living together was wearing on his nerves. Wondering if Belinda was ready to commit fully. Wondering what it would take to prove that he loved her to distraction. Not as a master adores his slave, or as a man woos his lady, but as a husband loves his wife.
The elevator bell chimed and the metal doors slid open, revealing Belinda at their front door. She was turning the key and glanced over her shoulders. Her blonde hair floated like feathers around her face from the movement. Her eyes lit up and sparkled as she saw him. Her smile greeted him, warming his heart as he strode out the elevator.
"Amir! You're home early."
He wordlessly dumped his briefcase onto the carpeted floor and captured her face between his hands. He tasted her lips that were soft and sweet. Belinda eagerly opened for him. He dipped his tongue into her heat, feeding his need to get closer, get inside her, under her skin.
She laced her hands around her shoulders and moaned her approval. Belinda melted around him, enveloping him with the scent and touch that was exclusively her. Her kisses matched his intensity, their need leaping and colliding until it crackled the air.
"Amir," she muttered against him. She turned her head, but he chased her lips with his. "Amir, we're still in the hallway."
"So?" His hands slid to her lush bottom. He pressed closer into her. She tilted her pelvis and provocatively rubbed against his thickening penis.
Belinda smiled as he muffled a groan. "I don't need to share you with any voyeurs this time. I want you all to myself"
"You have that anyway. You know I love you, Belinda," he whispered fiercely as he kissed her again. She leaned into him and responded with wild ferocity. The way she did every time he told her how much he loved her.
Her response gave him hope. He reluctantly pulled away. He would ask her now. The hallway might not be a romantic spot, but he didn't think he should mention it while they were in bed. While he filled her and shouted it out as he climaxed.
The sex was very much apart of their relationship, very much their homelife. Everyday when he came home from work, Belinda would lure him into the bedroom until they stood in front of an antique wood carved box that rested in the center of her dressing table next to her jewelry box.
He would open the box and see the gold choker laying in a bed of red velvet. Amir would remove the necklace from the box and command Belinda to gather her hair before fastening it around her throat. And every morning he would remove it and put it safely away before they went to work.
"Amir?" Belinda asked as her forehead ruffled with a frown. "What is it?"
'We're getting married."
Belinda's eyes widened. Amir grimaced. He didn't want it coming out that way. The main reason he wanted to propose when she didn't wear the necklace. He coughed and cleared the nervousness from his throat. "I mean; will you marry me?"
A smile burst across her lips. "Yes." She clung to his shoulders and tried to press closer. Frustrated that it wasn't close enough, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Her mound cradled his penis.
He grabbed her derriere, bringing her closer until his penis could rub against her welcoming core through the layers of clothes. "This is not going the way I had planned." He wanted to present the diamond ring. Let her know that his feelings weren't based on their sex life. He wanted to be with her even if she was no longer interested in D/s.
She tilted her face. Wickedness twitched the corners of her mouth. "Then take me inside and do it properly."
Eagerness kicked him in the ribs. "You're getting a little sassy these days." He squeezed her buttocks playfully.
"Your influence, no doubt. Come on, Amir." Her eyelashes lowered provocatively. "I want you to get on your hands and knees and beg me to marry you."
He pushed open the door and scooted his briefcase inside with the sweep of his foot. "Just wait until tonight, then we'll see who does the begging," he warned as he carried her inside.
Her pale skin blushed with anticipation. "I'm looking forward to it," she replied as she kicked the door shut.
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