When we were sufficiently hidden in the shadows, she turned back toward me.
I'd fucked things up with her – badly – and I didn't know if it was too late to fix it, but I had to at least try, and part of that meant I wasn't going to attempt to justify my previous behavior.
"I'm sorry."
She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow as if she were waiting for more.
Fair enough.
"When I realized who you were...I didn't...dammit." I cursed as I ran my hand through my hair. Where was I supposed to begin to explain so she could see the difference between what I was apologizing for and what I hadn't done at all?
"Start at the beginning," she suggested.
I nodded. "I didn't know it was you, that first night at the club. Or the second night. Not until you took off your mask. I didn't use you." I took a step toward her, needing her to be able to look into my eyes and see the truth of each word. "I swear, Savannah, I know I acted like a total ass, but those things Bianca said to you weren't true."
Some of the tension on her face eased, and I saw a flare of hope in her eyes for a brief moment before she extinguished it. I hadn't let myself admit just how much she meant to me until I realized I was the one in the wrong. Every single thing I thought she'd done had been a reason for me to ignore the attraction I felt, and now that those were out of the way, I could finally accept just how much I wanted her.
"I am so sorry." I started to reach for her, then dropped my hand, not knowing if she wanted me to touch her. "For what I said, and for what I did. I promise that I'll go straight to your boss first thing tomorrow and fix it. I'll tell him it was entirely on me. Temperamental artist shit. None of it was your fault and that I'll only agree to having an interview published if you're the one to do it."
Her eyes had an almost unnatural glow in the dim lighting. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you as soon as I realized what happened. I shouldn't have let it go as far as it did while you were in the dark."
"I appreciate that," I said sincerely. "But I know it still doesn't excuse what I said or did." A moment of silence fell between us, and then I had to ask, "If you need to get back to your boyfriend–"
"Roommate," she said with a smile. "And before you ask, he's gay."
Relief flooded me, but I tried not to let it show. "He certainly wasn't acting like he was gay."
She laughed. "He was trying to help me by making you think that I'd moved on."
I wanted to ask her if she had moved on, but I chose another question instead. "Do you remember what happened the first time we met?" I dared to close the distance between us, my heart thudding against my ribs when she didn't move away. "How we had that misunderstanding?"
The corners of her mouth twitched upward in a partial smile. "I remember. I thought you were insinuating I was a prostitute, and you seemed to think I was an incompetent food delivery person."
I laughed. God, it felt good to laugh, even if it was a small burst of sound. "We moved past it. I know what I did the other day was so much worse, but I'm hoping you can forgive me."
"Why?" she asked. "Why do you want me to forgive you?"
I didn't stop myself from reaching out this time, letting my thumb slide along her jaw before burying my hand in those silky curls. "Because I've wanted you from the moment I saw you across the club, and even when I was furious at you, I wanted you."
Even in the imperfect light of the alley, her pale eyes darkened. "I wanted you too."
I cupped the back of her head as I lowered my mouth to hers, stopping just short of kissing her. "I still want you...but I understand if you don't–"
"I want you too." Even as she breathed the last word, she closed the distance between us.
I couldn't stop myself from moaning the moment our lips touched. I'd almost forgotten how soft her skin was, the taste of her mouth. It was the first time we'd kissed without masks, the first time I'd known exactly who it was I was kissing. And I wanted more.
She bit my bottom lip, then sucked it into her mouth, sending the blood rushing from my brain straight to my cock. Her boldness didn't surprise me. With the mask and without it, she was the same woman. Confident. Willing and able to claim what she wanted. I suspected the only reason the mask had appealed to her was because the Gilded Cage was a new experience.
I pressed her back against the wall, running my hands down her sides to her hips, feeling the strength in her slight body. She looked so delicate, so easy to break, but I remembered all too well how it had felt to be inside her, to take her hard and fast. I knew that she craved what I had to offer, the things I had promised her.
"Fuck, Savannah," I groaned as I tore my lips from hers. "I can't control myself with you."
She reached down between us, fingers quickly working my pants open. I cursed again as her hand wrapped around my cock, gritting my teeth as I grabbed her wrist.
"Like I said," I locked eyes with her, "control seems to be an issue when I'm around you."
The smile that curved her lips could only be called wicked. "Why don't you do something about it then?"
My surprise lasted only a few seconds as I read the challenge in her eyes. I glanced up the alley, but none of the people passing by sent even a glance in our direction.
"Do you want me to take you right here?" I asked, my voice rough as I pulled her hand from my pants. I stretched her arms above her head, pinning them to the wall. "Think about your answer, because if you say yes, I'm not going to be gentle."
She rocked her hips against me. "I don't want you to be."
I didn't give her a chance to second-guess herself. I'd stop if she told me to, but if she didn't...
I pulled back far enough to turn her around. She made a breathless sound as her hands went out automatically to brace herself against the wall. I yanked her pants down, exposing her pale, translucent skin. I knew we had to be quick, but I couldn't stop myself from stopping for a moment and sinking my teeth into the firm flesh of her ass.
She let out a yelp, glaring over her shoulder at me. I kissed the mark I'd left, then straightened.
"I'm clean," I said as I slipped my hand between her legs. She gasped as I found her slick and hot. "Are you safe?"
She nodded. "Please, Jace."
I put my mouth against her ear even as I slid the head of my cock against her entrance. "I'll have you begging me for real soon enough."
She cried out as I drove into her, burying myself in a single thrust. I clamped my hand over her mouth and felt a shiver pass through her. Fuck. The position made her even tighter, and I knew I wouldn't last long, but I'd be damned if I couldn't get her off before I did.
Fortunately, she wasn't the sort of woman who needed soft and gentle to climax.
I stroked her clit in tight circles as I made short, deep thrusts, each one driving me closer to the edge.
"I'm going to need you to come for me," I said between harsh breaths. "I need to feel you come apart on my cock."
Her tongue flicked out against my palm, and I groaned, pressing my face against the place where her neck met her shoulder. I worried her skin between my teeth, marking her in a place where others could see and know that she was taken. For as long as this fire burned between us, she was mine.
The thought tipped me over, and as I emptied inside her, I pressed my fingers harder against her clit. "Come, Savannah." I made it an order. "Come for me now, and I'll spend the rest of the night making you scream my name."
As she shattered in my arms, I promised myself that I would make good on my word, and I'd make sure she didn't regret forgiving me.
Twenty-Two
Savannah
It had been nearly three weeks since Jace apologized for what he'd done and said. Three weeks since he'd taken me from behind in an alley and made me come hard enough to see stars. Three weeks since I'd had to listen to Everett, Lei, and Lorde all telling me why I was making a mistake.
Three of the best weeks of my life.
Jace had gone straight to
Abel the morning after we made up, and my article had been returned before lunch. My boss was still a bit of an ass, but at least my career was back on track. And with my...exclusive access to the artist, I had plenty of material to choose from.
As for how much material Jace now had to work with...
He'd only been sculpting for the show now, his paints and canvases put to the side. I'd seen him create a couple pieces, watched as those strong hands molded and formed various types of clay into beautiful works of art.
Works of art that bore a resemblance to various parts of my body. My hands. My face with the mask I'd worn the first night we were together.
It had been insanely erotic to watch him create, to mold and caress with those strong hands of his. Which was probably why those sessions had almost always turned into incredibly hot sex marathons. We'd fucked in his studio, living room, kitchen, pool house...pretty much everywhere except for his actual bedroom. When we needed a bed, we went to his 'playroom.' I didn't mind though. We hadn't discussed exactly what this was between us, who we were to each other, and spending the night in his bed seemed like the sort of thing that could wait until we'd had that talk.
Right now, I was happy with what we had.
In those long hours, I learned more about the things that could bring me pleasure than I had with any previous lover. And more about myself as well. Jace wasn't simply teaching me about what it meant to be a submissive. He was teaching me about how anticipation could make culmination even sweeter, how the right kind of pain could make an orgasm even more intense, how denial could draw out pleasure until it was nearly agony.
Even now, as I sat at my desk, the memories of our times together warmed my skin and made me squirm in my chair.
Okay, so the squirming had more to do with the fact that my ass was still burning from his use of a flogger last night than it did from my memories. Both were responsible for how wet I was, and I knew if I didn't start thinking about something less erotic, I was going to need to slip into the bathroom on my lunch break and take care of myself.
Even though Jace had specifically forbidden me touching myself without his permission.
Which, of course, made it impossible to stop thinking about doing it.
It would be so easy, I knew, even here, to slide my hand under my skirt, to move aside my panties, and to slip my fingers between my folds. It wouldn't take much. Just the memories of the last few weeks and a few passes of my fingers over my clit.
Memories like three nights ago when Jace tied me up and showed me something he called wax play.
My skin tingled as my mind filled...
This was new.
All right, so technically, pretty much everything Jace had introduced me to was new, but this was new for us. Before, when he restrained me, he used handcuffs or similar things on my wrists, or if he wanted me completely tied up, he would spread me out on his bed until I was completely exposed.
Tonight, however, he had me kneel, legs apart, hands behind my back, head up. When I was positioned exactly how he wanted me, he brought out a set of soft leather straps and began to bind me. First, he wrapped cuffs around each wrist and ankle, then connected right wrist to right ankle, and the left side the same way. I shifted, testing each side as I catalogued how much motion I had. It wasn't much. Instead of restricting my side to side movement, it kept my arms behind me and my shoulders back, putting my breasts on display. And standing would be an impossibility until he released me. It wasn't exactly uncomfortable, but I was once again glad that Jace wasn't into tying me up and leaving me for long periods of time.
Then he brought over the candle, and a part of me wondered if this would be the place I finally drew a line. He gave me the same reassuring smile that he always did when we got to a point where my nerves were about to get the best of me. He never coerced me into anything I didn't want to do, but he did have a knack for soothing my worries until I decided to give him a chance. Granted, I hadn't regretted it yet.
"It's going to hurt," he said honestly. "But it's a special kind of wax, made specifically for this sort of thing, so it's safe."
I nodded, the butterflies still fluttering in my stomach. He cupped my chin and ran his thumb along my bottom lip. My eyes locked with his – a no-no for most subs, I now knew, but one he permitted for a reason he hadn't yet shared – and I flicked out my tongue against the tip of his thumb. Those jade eyes of his darkened to near-black and he cursed softly.
"The things you do to me," he murmured as he straightened. His posture changed, and I knew we were transitioning from reassurance to whatever it was he was going to do with that candle.
The first drops landed on the tops of my breasts, and I jerked at the sharp pain shooting across my nerves. It didn't last long, quickly turning into a tender burn, similar to what I felt when he spanked me or used a flogger. Not entirely unpleasant, but nothing I would have described as particularly pleasant either.
Not yet anyway.
If my time with Jace had taught me anything, it was that how things began wasn't always how things ended.
I gasped as another drop fell onto my breast, a little lower this time. I'd never minded my smaller bust, but as he dropped another bit of wax on my breast, I wish I was a bit bigger, if only to avoid the place I knew the hot liquid was going next.
His thumb moved over my hardened nipple, then up to brush across the hardened wax. My eyelids fluttered, and I leaned into his touch. He made a sound in the back of his throat and took a step back.
"I still don't have as much control around you as I would like," he said quietly.
His admission warmed me in a whole different way. Before I could dwell on it too much though, he was tipping the candle again.
The next drop landed directly on my nipple, and I couldn't stop myself from crying out. But even as the pain burned through my sensitive skin, I could feel my pussy growing wet...
"Savannah?"
I jerked back to reality, flushing as I looked up to see Abel's secretary standing next to my desk. "Sorry, just lost in thought."
Kathy gave me a bored look that said she didn't really care. "Mr. Updike wants to know if you've spoken with Robby about when to do the pictures for the article."
Shit. I knew I'd forgotten something.
I reached for my phone. "I'll give him a call right now."
She sniffed as she walked away, making it clear exactly what she thought of my promise. I rolled my eyes and picked up my phone. I wasn't really that fond of our freelance photographer, mostly because he loved to talk about his 'art' like the rest of us peons didn't understand what it truly meant to be an artist. Now that I thought about it, he and Abel were two of a kind, which made sense as to why Robby got away with coming to jobs looking like he hadn't showered or washed his clothes in a week.
He answered on the first ring and was surprisingly pleasant as we discussed a schedule for the photos. I'd fully expected to have to argue to get him to go along with my vision for something that focused on the art rather than Jace, but for once, Robby readily agreed with everything I suggested.
Then I heard a girl giggling in the background and realized that he actually wanted to get me off the phone so he could get back to his company. I wasn't about to complain, not when I was going to hold him to everything he agreed to. As soon as we ended the call, I wrote everything up and sent it off to Abel to make sure it was locked in.
Once that was done, I pulled up the article and the outline I'd written and finished up the last of what I had to do until the show. Well, except the photos and captions. I still had those left. And any new pieces would need write-ups. I expected that it would have taken me longer if I hadn't had specific insight into the pieces Jace already had for display.
I managed to polish my work until it was time to leave, but before I could fill my head with thoughts of Jace and what we were going to do tonight, my phone rang. It wasn't a number I recognized, but I answered it anyway.
"Hello?"
&nbs
p; "Savannah Birch?"
"Yes?"
The next words she spoke stopped me in my tracks.
Twenty-Three
Jace
I had a list. All the things I wanted to do with and to Savannah before this thing between us ended. Not that I was planning on breaking things off with her anytime soon. My list was too long for that. But it would happen soon enough. It always did. I'd enjoy my time with her, and then little by little, we'd want to spend more time apart. Any issues we ignored in the beginning would start to annoy us, and if we were lucky, we'd realize it was better to take a step back than to let things implode.
I enjoyed spending time with her before we started having sex, and if it was all possible, I wanted us to stay friends once everything else ended. I didn't want things between the two of us to become like they were between Bianca and me.
Which was another reason I always had to remember that Savannah and I weren't dating. I'd learned my lesson from Bianca. I didn't do the whole boyfriend / girlfriend thing. Erik's relationship with Tanya was the exception, not the rule. I wasn't going to risk it. I didn't want to risk it.
There was only one risk worth taking, and that was the one that came with the cuffs and whips and other toys I possessed in my playroom. I'd enjoyed introducing those risks to Savannah. The sight of her stretched out and bound, her soft pink skin glistening with arousal, had tested my self-control in ways I never imagined. I'd tasted her, touched her, and it wasn't enough. Even when we weren't together, thoughts of her kept coming to me. How she sounded when I took her to the edge but kept her from falling over it. The look of her skin striped pink by my hand.
A few nights ago, I introduced her to wax play, and I could almost still feel the different sensations of her soft skin and the smooth heat of the wax. She made the sexiest sounds when the melted wax landed on her nipples. And an even hotter cry when I slid the first small ice cube into her pussy.