Freed (Assassin's Revenge #3)

“What’s the hurry, Jenny?” he teased me, fingering the ties on my hands. “It seems you are rather tied up at the present.”


I rolled my eyes, grateful he couldn’t see the expression on my face. “I need you, Sir,” I said plaintively.

He chuckled. “Whining, really? A new low, don’t you think, cherie?” A hard spank punctuated that sentiment, then he slowly pulled his cock out, then stroked it back in. Every nerve ending sparked at that leisurely movement.

The thrusts gradually picked up speed. His fingers petted my folds and pinched my nipples; he gripped my chin and turned my head so that I was looking into his eyes, hazy with pleasure. As for me, each pass of his fingers over my clitoris caused me to whimper. Each stroke of his cock caused every muscle in my body to clench. I was at breaking point, wound up tighter and tighter with each push of his shaft.

Then he pinched my clitoris, hard and I shattered and in the distance, I felt him shatter as well.

***

His strong hands massaged each inch of exposed skin as the ropes were unwound. When I was free of the bindings, he carried me in his arms out of the playroom and into his bed, clambering in next to me. I clung to him, a little dazed by the intensity of what had just happened.

“Can I get you anything?” he asked me. “Water? Chocolate?”

He must have seen my expression brighten at the word chocolate because he laughed good-naturedly and swung off the bed. When he returned, he carried a tray, which held, apart from the promised chocolate, fruit, nuts a bottle of white wine and a couple of glasses. “You are so stereotypically French,” I teased him. “Do you ever drink water?”

He laughed. “Occasionally,” he assured me with a wink.

I rested my head against his shoulder and he fed me pieces of chocolate and strawberries and grapes. It was so surreal. This wasn’t even close to what I’d expected when I’d put myself up for auction in Bangkok. “Shouldn’t I be serving you?” I worried.

He looked surprised. “Did your previous dominant not provide aftercare?” he asked me, then his expression darkened. “Never mind, I already know the answer to that.” His voice softened. “It is my responsibility to take care of you,” he said.

“Which extends to providing chocolate?”

He smiled. “And anything else you need.”

I bit my lip before I voiced my request. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

His arms wrapped around me. When he spoke, his voice was serious and perhaps a little troubled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”





Chapter 5


Alexander:

When I got out of bed the next morning, Jenny stirred but didn’t wake up. Good. Jean-Luc was going to visit today and I wanted to chat with him without being concerned about her overhearing our conversation. Plus, at some point today, I really did have to work. All week, I’d been distracted by Jenny. But though the stock markets were slower in summer, they still worked and I needed to as well. Without large infusions of money, all my plans would fail.

Jean-Luc was already waiting for me when I went down. “Am I late?” I asked him.

He shook his head. “I’m early,” he replied. “I couldn’t sleep.” He inclined his head in the direction of the stairs. “How’s the girl?”

“You tell me,” I responded. “What do you have on her cover story?”

I got a disapproving look in reply. Jean-Luc wouldn’t talk in the kitchen. Only in the soundproofed security of the study would our business be discussed. My lips twitched. “She was asleep when I left,” I defended myself.

“People wake up,” he replied. “Are you making coffee?”

“Remind me again who works for whom?” I asked wryly as I moved over to the coffee machine. It was Elodie’s day off and we were all alone.

“The last time I made breakfast, you declined to eat it.”

“The last time you made breakfast, it was a charred, burned, inedible mess. I would prefer to live.” I cracked a half-dozen eggs as I spoke, beating them with a whisk before sliding them into the heated skillet. I’d learned to cook in boarding school, sneaking down to the kitchens in order to escape the crushing loneliness and inadequacy I’d felt as a child. The cooks had been warmly kind to a little boy who had only known rejection. I was still grateful for their generosity.

Jean-Luc chuckled. He sipped coffee as I scrambled the eggs in the pan. When they were done, I divided the contents between us and we took the food into my study. We didn’t have much time before Jenny woke up and I had much to discuss with him.

“Okay, we need to debrief on three major things,” Jean-Luc held up his hand. “Let’s start with your girlfriend. Sylvia. When does she return to Paris?”