time she managed to hold his gaze, though she felt herself falling into those deep, dark eyes.
“I have to kiss you,” he murmured, echoing her own secret longing. Oblivious to passersby, she closed her eyes and leaned toward him, answering without words.
When he finally released her, Elizabeth fell back against the back of the bench, her heart pounding, her lips tingling, her body on fire. No one had ever kissed her like that. His lips, his tongue, the passion spilling and melting between them as he held her—he hadn’t simply kissed her—he had possessed her.
She tried to catch her breath, both frightened by her own strong reaction and deeply aroused.
What was happening to her? It was just a kiss.
But it wasn’t only the kiss. His words had ignited feelings deep and fiery inside her, something that had lain dormant and unacknowledged until now. Though she didn’t yet understand his talk of pleasure and pain intermingling, or the concept of erotic suffering and romantic submission, every fiber of her being felt alive with expectation and desire.
Cole stood and held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her up and into his arms. After a moment he released her. “Come back with me to my place.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her legs were weak and she leaned against him as they walked. He wrapped a strong, comforting arm around her. She relaxed against him, as if they had always walked together like this, as if she were right where she belonged, possibly for the first time in her life.
~*~
Gary pulled out the small silver flask from the desk drawer and unscrewed the top. The confrontation with Elizabeth had gone even better than he’d expected. It was perfect, their meeting at the office, with him behind his desk at a symbolic advantage. She’d been so easy to manipulate. For all her supposed savvy, she wasn’t too swift at thinking on her feet, at least not this time around.
He’d spent a mostly sleepless night, waiting for either her or the idiot who’d paid all that money to take home a zombie, to call and demand an explanation, or worse, for the police to show up with a warrant for his arrest.
What he’d done had been beyond risky—he knew that. And yet it had worked. The drugs did their job—making her compliant and docile, then conveniently wiping her mind clean by the next day. He had half a mind to send the online Mexican pharmacy from which he’d obtained the drugs a testimonial about its excellent side effects.
She was clearly confused by the night’s events—what little she could remember. Not only was it his word against hers, she wasn’t ever sure what hers were . He laughed aloud with bitter pleasure, recalling the dark red surge of color in her face as he calmly took her to task for subjecting him, her poor, beleaguered employee, to her fetishes and perversions. Oh, how good it had been to put the bitch in her place, reducing her to a stuttering, blushing mess.
She’d insisted he knew he was lying and she knew it too, but did she? He wondered just what had transpired with the guy who took her home. From the sound of things, she probably spent the night completely passed out. Not much fun to whip and fuck an unconscious slave girl.
Probably the guy would be calling the club, demanding his money back.
That was another delicious irony. Though she wasn’t technically his to sell, Gary had even made money on the deal. House of Usher paid the owners forty percent of their take on the auction, though it was done in the form of play money to keep it legal. Though he didn’t plan to return to the club, aware he would be none too well-received after what he’d pulled, the idea of taking cash, fake or otherwise, for the hoity-toity Elizabeth Martin, vastly appealed to him.
He took a long swig of the whiskey before screwing the lid closed and storing the flask again in the bottom drawer. It was a little after six. He’d spent the entire day at the office, waiting for
“I have to kiss you,” he murmured, echoing her own secret longing. Oblivious to passersby, she closed her eyes and leaned toward him, answering without words.
When he finally released her, Elizabeth fell back against the back of the bench, her heart pounding, her lips tingling, her body on fire. No one had ever kissed her like that. His lips, his tongue, the passion spilling and melting between them as he held her—he hadn’t simply kissed her—he had possessed her.
She tried to catch her breath, both frightened by her own strong reaction and deeply aroused.
What was happening to her? It was just a kiss.
But it wasn’t only the kiss. His words had ignited feelings deep and fiery inside her, something that had lain dormant and unacknowledged until now. Though she didn’t yet understand his talk of pleasure and pain intermingling, or the concept of erotic suffering and romantic submission, every fiber of her being felt alive with expectation and desire.
Cole stood and held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her up and into his arms. After a moment he released her. “Come back with me to my place.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her legs were weak and she leaned against him as they walked. He wrapped a strong, comforting arm around her. She relaxed against him, as if they had always walked together like this, as if she were right where she belonged, possibly for the first time in her life.
~*~
Gary pulled out the small silver flask from the desk drawer and unscrewed the top. The confrontation with Elizabeth had gone even better than he’d expected. It was perfect, their meeting at the office, with him behind his desk at a symbolic advantage. She’d been so easy to manipulate. For all her supposed savvy, she wasn’t too swift at thinking on her feet, at least not this time around.
He’d spent a mostly sleepless night, waiting for either her or the idiot who’d paid all that money to take home a zombie, to call and demand an explanation, or worse, for the police to show up with a warrant for his arrest.
What he’d done had been beyond risky—he knew that. And yet it had worked. The drugs did their job—making her compliant and docile, then conveniently wiping her mind clean by the next day. He had half a mind to send the online Mexican pharmacy from which he’d obtained the drugs a testimonial about its excellent side effects.
She was clearly confused by the night’s events—what little she could remember. Not only was it his word against hers, she wasn’t ever sure what hers were . He laughed aloud with bitter pleasure, recalling the dark red surge of color in her face as he calmly took her to task for subjecting him, her poor, beleaguered employee, to her fetishes and perversions. Oh, how good it had been to put the bitch in her place, reducing her to a stuttering, blushing mess.
She’d insisted he knew he was lying and she knew it too, but did she? He wondered just what had transpired with the guy who took her home. From the sound of things, she probably spent the night completely passed out. Not much fun to whip and fuck an unconscious slave girl.
Probably the guy would be calling the club, demanding his money back.
That was another delicious irony. Though she wasn’t technically his to sell, Gary had even made money on the deal. House of Usher paid the owners forty percent of their take on the auction, though it was done in the form of play money to keep it legal. Though he didn’t plan to return to the club, aware he would be none too well-received after what he’d pulled, the idea of taking cash, fake or otherwise, for the hoity-toity Elizabeth Martin, vastly appealed to him.
He took a long swig of the whiskey before screwing the lid closed and storing the flask again in the bottom drawer. It was a little after six. He’d spent the entire day at the office, waiting for
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