“I’ll bet.” She let out a gasp as he cupped her right breast, his hand warmed from holding his cup. He thumbed her nipple, flicked it. As he did, he slid his other hand beneath the skirt again, but now there was no teasing. His knuckles slid firmly over her *, then down, finding the opening of her p-ssy under the lace panel of the thong.
“Already slick for me again, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Yes, Master. God, she wanted to say it so badly, without prompting, but instead she bit her lips, feeling the heat in her cheeks increase as his fingers pushed into that opening, enough to have her heart rate rabbiting.
“All right then,” he said, his penetrating gaze reading every reaction flickering over her face. “Let’s go shopping and see if we can keep that river flowing. I intend to dip into it pretty damn often today.” He slid her dress back into place, a heartbeat before a couple came around the corner, headed for the restrooms. “Keep your back straight,” he reminded her, picking up his tea again. “Don’t you hide those gorgeous nipples. They’re mine. Every part of you is mine to display as I wish.”
She was beginning to believe he could make her come with his velvet commands alone, the things they did to her body. She obeyed, though she felt a little self-conscious as the male stranger’s gaze slid over her and then screeched to a halt on that part of her. She detected it in her peripheral vision but kept her gaze on Jon, her Master. This was for him, and no one else. Nothing else mattered.
God, she was losing her mind. Hopefully she’d find it again before she made a complete fool of herself.
Chapter Thirteen
As a woman on a limited budget, Rachel had learned to appreciate the pleasure of window shopping, the occasional indulgence of walking in and buying something modest on impulse. She’d never experienced shopping with a handsome, wealthy and attentive man who was adamant about paying for everything. She suspected it might ruin her for window shopping ever again.
Though she tried to be conservative, she quickly learned his caveat—that he had the power to approve or disapprove a purchase—didn’t mean he would deny her the things she liked. On the contrary, it meant he would refuse her something she’d chosen for self-critical or price reasons, hand it back to the solicitous salesperson and then choose the item she’d really wanted all along. He hadn’t allowed her to bring her purse, had pocketed the key to her apartment, so she had nothing to carry, no responsibility beyond anticipating his desires.
It was overwhelming, flustering. It swept her off her feet, made the sun brighter, the breeze softer and everything about the world seem better, more hopeful. And her mood warily became more hopeful with it.
“So, exactly how rich are you?” she teased him, stopping at a jewelry store window to point out a garish collar of diamonds on a velvet display. He eyed the piece with lifted brow, gave her a sidelong glance.
“If you promise to wear that tacky, overstated thing to the next K&A board meeting, I’ll get it for you. But it’s the only thing you can wear.”
She laughed. “I don’t think it’s my style. The necklace, that is. I won’t say a word about the other.”
“But it excites you, doesn’t it?” He bent to brush her ear with his lips. “The idea of that.”
She cleared her throat. “I’m surprised you didn’t take me to a place with…toys.”
“I don’t care for most of those places. I don’t think you do either. And you’re avoiding my question, Rachel.” He touched her chin, a gesture she’d noticed he did whenever she most wanted to avoid eye contact. But when she most wanted to look at him, like last night, he increased her pleasure with denial. A balance of her needs against her wants.
“Jon, you’ve already made me feel better about things I didn’t expect to feel better about, ever. I know you need me to trust you, but…” She went silent, the old pain stirring.
“But he made you feel ashamed of those cravings. As if it somehow made you faithless or…” Though Jon spoke softly, it didn’t make the truth any less harsh.
“Wrong.” She got the word out. “He made me feel it was dirty, immoral, twisted. That I was…a perverted freak.”
He’d used a lot of other, worse words than that, but she couldn’t bring them to her lips. She didn’t need to do so. The frost in Jon’s gaze said he understood. He turned her fully toward him, resting his hands on her shoulders.
“All right then. Let’s deal with that. Here’s another thing you need to know about me.”
When it came to Jon’s far-less-gentle side, she was fast learning that he gave no warning. The frost vanished, replaced by fire. Gripping her hair with both hands, he yanked her head back and set his teeth to her throat, an open-mouthed demand that had her swaying into him. One arm dropped, cinched around her waist, anticipating her jerk of surprise when he bit, suckling her hard. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think about passersby and their reaction, not wanting anything to interfere with the incredible surge of heat he sent through her body.
As he lifted his head, he pressed his lips together, obviously savoring her taste. Raising her hand without thought, she touched them, slid her fingers over the moist, firm heat. At his pointed glance, she lifted the other hand to her throat, felt the mark he’d left there.
“Despite all sorts of spiritual perspectives I have that might make you think otherwise, I am possessive.” The flame in his eyes matched the fervor of that marking. “But I think you already understand that. I want to be the Master of your pleasure, of your protection, of your happiness. If I determine that controlled situations where you receive pleasure from others is part of that equation, if I know that would excite and please you, then you’ll likely find yourself having that experience. But whether or not I ever agree or disagree with a fantasy you have, it will be guided by those tenets. There is nothing you can imagine that I will ever condemn or make you feel is wrong. All right?”
“All right.” She knew it would take time to believe him, because Cole’s repelled countenance was branded in her head. But hearing Jon say the words was something she’d never experienced before, so she’d accept that as a first step. She cleared her throat. “Okay. Then I admit to a deeply personal fantasy about writhing in pig entrails under a full moon.”
“You perverted freak.”
It made her laugh out loud, swat at him. She was happy to be gathered back under his arm, have him press a lingering kiss to her temple, even as he squeezed her ass, a quick admonishment. “Brat. Now tell me why you don’t like sex toy shops.”
She shrugged. “Even the ones that are supposedly welcoming to women still have a cheesy, wrong-vibe feel to them. Like they still don’t quite get it, you know?”
“That’s part of why I don’t go to them. That, and I’d rather create the toys myself.”
“You should open your own store. You could call it The Toymaker.” She grinned up at him. Putting a hand on his chest, she trailed her fingertips under the neckline of the worn T-shirt, such a relaxed movement she’d done it before she thought about it. His eyes warmed on her at the intimacy. “Though you’d probably have to have a foyer area with candy,” she added. “You know, to give to the kids who wander in, thinking it’s their kind of toy store.”