He pulled her in closer to his body. Until nothing separated them and his arms were wrapped around her satiny, naked skin. He allowed his hands to roam down her back, cupping her buttocks and then squeezing.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, allowing her one last out. “Enough not to question anything I ask of you tonight? To follow and heed my instructions regardless of what they may be?”
She leaned her head back, determination and resolve firm in those beautiful eyes. She looped her arms loosely around his neck, but never once did she break free of his gaze.
“My gift to you is me,” she said in a sweet, soul-stirring voice that was a caress all in its own. “I am yours, Drake. I know you’ll never hurt me. I can’t promise not to ever be afraid at any point tonight, but you need to know that my fear is not of you. Never of you. If I fear anything at all, it will be the unknown. But most of all, my greatest fear will be of letting you down.”
“Then go and prepare for me,” he said in a husky voice. “Take a long bath and soak for a while. There is no hurry, as it will take me a little time to make the proper arrangements for a night my angel has promised is all mine. My fantasy. My pleasure. And know, Evangeline, that you will be repaid in full measure for the gift you are offering me tonight. I too plan to come up with very creative ways of expressing my gratitude.”
He trailed a finger down her silken cheek as their gazes remained locked.
“When you are finished bathing, dry yourself and your hair and then go lie down on the bed. Don’t pull the covers and sheets back. I want you to lie in the middle, your hair spread across the pillows, thighs parted, hands above your head with your fingers wrapped around the slats of the headboard.”
She smiled, then sighed and shook her head ruefully. “And yet again, a night that is supposed to be solely about you sounds an awful lot like I’m the one being a pampered, spoiled princess.”
He regarded her solemnly. “Have no doubt, Angel. Youaremy pampered princess. But tonight, I intend only to watch, and thisisvery much for me. Just remember your promise to trust me and know that I will never allow you to come to harm, and my night will be fucking perfect.”
As Evangeline languidly soaked in the tub, she pondered the oddity of Drake’s last words to her before he’d ushered her into the bedroom and then disappeared, leaving her to heed his instructions.
They seemed in direct contradiction and try as she might, she couldn’t come up with a scenario in which, as he’d said, tonight he’d only watch but had followed it with a solemn vow that he would never allow her to come to harm.
The two statements seemed incongruous. Granted, she didn’t have much experience with sex, much less kinky, dominant sex or fetishes. She wasn’t even sure what they were called or even the differences between a kink and a fetish or if there even was one.
Well, she wasn’t going to ruin what promised to be an exciting night by overanalyzing Drake’s cryptic words. She was more focused on his reaction to her impassioned statement about wanting to please him, wanting him to teach her to please him and that she wanted to give back at least a small part of all he’d given to her.
That had pleased him immensely. There was no mistaking the wonderment and surprise and yes, even delight over her sincerity. And he’d admitted what she’d already reasoned out on her own, that he had neverhad anyone who cared for him, who took care of him and placed his needs above their own. Had anyone ever loved him? Or at least cared deeply for him? Or were the majority of the people in his life manipulative users out to milk him for every cent they could extort?
And what of his family? He’d never spoken of them and he seemed bemused by her close relationship with her parents. In fact, she strongly suspected that he’d felt anger toward them and the fact that she’d given up so much to support them until he’d witnessed firsthand their love and concern for her. He’d even spoken to them himself and after that, she’d never seen that fleeting hint of suppressed anger when she spoke of her family.
“Oh, Drake,” she whispered, her heart aching. “How lonely must it have been to live in a world where no one cared about you? How awful must it be for your worth to be measured by money and social status? Has anyone ever seen the real Drake Donovan? Has no one ever loved the real Drake Donovan?”
If it was the last thing she did, she was going to prove to him that his money didn’t mean a damn to her. For that matter, she wished he had none at all because then he would never harbor any doubt as to her reasons for being with him. She would want to be with him, want desperately to submit to him and please him even if he didn’t have one cent to his name.
But would he ever truly believe that? Or would some small part of him, deep down, buried under years of cynicism, always be there whispering insidiously in the back of his mind telling him she was no different from all the others?
She idly looked over at the clock on the counter by the sink and realized a full thirty minutes had passed while she contemplated the puzzle that was Drake Donovan. He’d told her to take her time, but he hadn’t been specific.Shehad been specific in that this night belonged to him, and the last thing she wanted was to keep him waiting and she still had to dry her hair and position herself accordingly on the bed.
Pushing away all the senseless questions and speculation that hadoccupied her time in the tub, she rose, water rushing down her body. She stepped out and first wrapped a towel around her head and then took another to dry her body.
After swabbing as much moisture from her hair as she could with the towel, she sat on the vanity stool and began combing out the long tresses. She sectioned off pieces of her hair and pulled a brush down the length, following it with a blow-dryer.
She wanted to look beautiful, and her hair, when freshly washed, blow-dried and brushed out, was one of her best features. She brushed until it shone and was extremely soft, giving her a windblown look that framed her face and tumbled down her back in layers.
After giving herself one last pat-down with the towel to ensure her entire body was no longer damp, she walked back into the bedroom, relieved that Drake hadn’t made his appearance yet.
She crawled on top of the mattress and with a sigh settled in the middle, her head nestled into the mound of pillows. Then she remembered his other directives.
She parted her thighs so that just a hint of the lips of her vagina were visible and then she reached upward to grasp the slats of the headboard.
Even though she was in no way bound, the feeling of being subdued, captive, a prisoner awaiting what would happen next sent delicious waves of pleasure coursing through her body. Her nipples puckered into tight, hard knots and she could feel the dampness between her legs as her clit pulsed and ached, begging for attention.
I intend only to watch.
Again his words floated through her memory, sending a fresh wave of curiosity and confusion through her veins. If he hadn’t instructed her to put her hands above her head and hold on to the headboard, she would have assumed he wanted to watch as she masturbated.
And while the first time he’d instructed her to touch herself when they were going to have anal sex had made her self-conscious, she wasbeyond that now and was only eager to do his bidding if it pleased him to watch her pleasure herself.
She languidly turned her head when the bedroom door opened and smiled when Drake appeared in the doorway. But her smile froze when she saw he wasn’t alone. Behind him walked in an extremely handsome, well-dressed man she judged to be around Drake’s age.
