Forbidden Obsessions Read online

  It was scary, but it was a good scary. She’d grown so used to all-consuming negative fear in the past few months, which had left no room for anything but worry. Not exactly true, since her friendship with Marcus and Bella had grown from that dark time, but overall, her life had been bleak. Yes, she’d had huge successes along the way to recovery, but while she’d generally lived a glass-is-half-full kind of life before her accident, she’d had a hard time keeping that attitude in place during her hospital stay.

  Gabe’s fingers tightened against her neck again, sending a rush of heat to her belly and even further south, making thoughts of her injury and recovery scatter like leaves in a windstorm. He was waiting for an answer, except...what had he asked?

  Oh, right. Dessert.

  “No, thank you, Sir.” The word felt foreign on her tongue but she liked it, far more than she probably should. “I’m full.”

  His grin turned downright evil as he slid his fingers from her neck to play with the strap of her dress. “Full? Not even close. Now that I know you like the idea of a gag, maybe I can show you what full means. A cock gag in your mouth, a plug in your ass, and me buried inside you, all at the same time.” He paused, and her heart nearly stopped. “Or were you talking about food?”

  She couldn’t speak. The image he’d planted in her head was too vivid, too tempting. After that morning when she’d dropped the glass and he’d come downstairs in nothing but running shorts, she had no problem imagining him naked, poised over her, all sleek muscles and raw power ready to take her in the one place he hadn’t already filled. She squirmed in her seat and wet her suddenly dry lips.

  “Cat got your tongue, princess?”

  Her head bobbed up and down, and he laughed richly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Fair enough. How about we head back to Bondage and Breakfast now?”

  She nodded again.

  In spite of his wildly sexual words, he was the ultimate gentleman, holding out his hand to help her to her feet. She came out from behind the table, and he let out a low hiss of a whistle. “Jesus, Olivia. Turn around, so I can see what little of that dress there is. Slowly.” When she paused, he barked out an order, twirling his finger to mimic what he wanted her to do. “Now.”

  She felt his eyes burning into her as she spun slowly, her pulse pounding in her ears. It had been a very long time since she’d worn anything like this little black dress, little being the operative word. It was short, a good couple of inches higher than midthigh. And it was meant to be tight, although it hung a little loosely now, not as snug as it had been before the accident. There were cutouts over both hips, low enough that she’d decided to forego any panties. The dress could be worn strapless, but she’d left the straps on since she’d lost some weight. She didn’t need it falling down by accident. She’d finished the outfit off with thigh-high lace-top stockings and, regrettably, a seriously demure pair of not-quite-heels. This outfit called for spiked heels, but she’d tried them on and her spine had screamed no.

  His continued silence was killing her buzz. She was self-conscious about her body these days, but damn it, she’d had good news and this was her “let’s celebrate” dress, even if she’d toned it down with granny shoes. She squeezed her eyes closed so she wouldn’t see the disappointment on his face. She’d taken time to do her hair and her makeup, she felt good and...

  He backed her up against the wall. Her eyes flew open and she locked gazes with him. He slid a knee between her thighs and she put her hands against his chest. He reached between them and circled her wrists with his hands.

  Carefully, so carefully it made her heart ache, he lifted her arms over her head, flat against the wall. “You okay?”

  “Yes,” she said, and almost before the word was out of her mouth, his lips were on hers.

  “Good.” He whispered it against her mouth, then pressed for entry.

  The kiss was demanding, hot, possessive, and it curled her toes and sent shivers racing throughout her whole body. She was hot and cold at the same time and more alive than she’d felt since the moment she woke up in the hospital and couldn’t move her legs. Maybe more alive than she’d ever felt.

  He shifted his hold on her wrists to one hand, again pausing. “Still good?”

  “Yes.”

  He ran his free hand over the side of her face, then cupped her chin and held her firm. “Yes, what?”

  A small whimper escaped. “Yes, Master Gabriel.”

  “Do you want this?” He brought his mouth closer to hers, but he didn’t kiss her.

  She tried to move her head so she could reach his lips, but he held the kiss just outside her reach. Her voice came out on a tiny sob she couldn’t have held back if she’d tried. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Not yet,” he said, backing away after a long, frustrating moment, his thumb running over her jaw and then her lip. “You get what I choose to give you, when I choose to give it to you. Do you understand?”

  Well, she understood that she wanted to scream. Did she really understand what he was saying? No, not exactly, but if she said yes, she’d get her kiss. Frustration gnawed at her and she banged her head back against the wall, the only direction she could move. “Yes, Sir.”

  He raised a brow. “No, I don’t think you do, but you’ll find out soon enough. And princess, pay close attention to what I’m telling you. I’ll let this one slide, but next time you lie to me when I ask you a question about whether or not you understand something, you’ll learn what punishment means in my world. And if you continue to lie to me, we stop playing.” His face turned serious. “If I can’t trust you to be honest with me, I can’t trust you to know when to use a safe word. And I refuse to play without one.”

  Her heart beat like a panicked rabbit. “I’m sorry, Sir. I’m sorry.” She felt fear bubble up inside, the bad kind of fear, and it nearly choked her with its intensity. To her absolute horror, a tear slipped out of the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m—”

  “Shh, princess.” He released her hands and pulled her close to his body. “Just laying out the rules. I know this is new to you.”

  It was so much more than that, but she didn’t know how to tell him. She wasn’t sure she understood it either. But with him she felt alive and safe and the thought of being without that, without him, made her want to cry. How the hell was that possible after only a few weeks?

  His heart beat steadily under her ear, and he held her tightly until the bad fear bled out from her body, leaving her limp against him. “Better now?”

  “A little bit.” Embarrassment flooded her, and she started to step back but she hit the wall. There was enough space between them, though, for her to see she had his shirt bunched up in her fists, had even yanked part of it free from his trousers. And if she wasn’t mistaken, that was a smudge of supposedly waterproof mascara on the silvery-gray dress shirt that matched his eyes perfectly. Slowly she relaxed her fists and resisted the urge to smooth his shirt. Before she could drop her hands from his chest, though, he caught them in his, lowered his head and kissed each of them. Her heart stuttered.

  “A little bit, Sir,” he reminded her gently. “Unless you want to step back from this and use your safe word.”

  Did she? She let the wall support her and closed her eyes briefly. He was being so careful with her, both body and mind.

  “Can we take a break from this?” she asked, taking him at his word that he wanted her honest feelings. “Can I say yellow, just long enough to get back home?” She flushed when she realized what she’d said. She looked up at him, hoping he wasn’t appalled by her presumption. She’d called the inn home, but really, that was how it felt to her these days.

  To her utter relief, he nodded, his eyes warm, approval written on his face. “Sure thing, princess. That’s exactly what I mean by being honest with me.”

  To her dismay, he paid for her
dinner, but the look on his face said not to argue with him. They walked back to Bondage and Breakfast in near silence. She stumbled once when her shoe caught on a brick, but he steadied her and kept his arm around her for the rest of the walk. It felt good, and right, but she refused to examine that, too.

  They went into the house using the back door. In the kitchen, Gabe leaned against the sink, long legs crossed at the ankles, his pose deceptively casual. “You have a decision to make, Olivia. If we’re done for the night, let me know.”

  Every one of the butterflies living in her stomach took flight, and she wished she could see his eyes in the dim light. She’d thought about what she wanted on that short walk back, and what she wanted was not to be a coward. “I want to keep going, Sir,” she blurted, afraid if she didn’t say it fast, she wouldn’t say it at all.

  He pushed away from the counter and nodded. She could see that much. He held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  She placed hers in his and he squeezed once. He wandered the first floor of the house with her in tow, checking doors and windows in each room, and then he set the alarm system. Back in the kitchen, he headed up a set of stairs she hadn’t known was there, still holding her hand. Soft lights lit the steps. They reached a landing and turned, continuing up to the top floor. The door at the top was locked, and with a start, she realized it was the door to his private space. He opened it and led her inside.

  Chapter Seven

  Olivia’s hand was trembling, but she was here. In his private rooms, where he’d imagined her so often these past few weeks. And if he was honest with himself, her hand wasn’t the only unsteady one. But he hadn’t lied to her. She could’ve ended things for tonight and he’d have let her, though it might’ve killed him.

  He closed and locked the door behind them, then took her purse and her light wrap from her and set them on the table by the door. He dropped his wallet, keys and cell phone on the same table, and then he walked her to the center of the room.

  He skimmed his knuckles down her soft cheek. “Stay right here.”

  He walked over to his favorite chair and sat down, leaning forward, watching Olivia. The light of the moon came through the window on the adjacent wall, splashing its beam across the exact spot where she stood. The position of his chair allowed him to see her clearly, but she could only see him in shadow. It put him in a position of power, perfect for his needs.

  “Gabe?” she asked, her nervousness and need combining to make her voice wobbly.

  “That’s Sir to you, princess. I’m here. And you look lovely in the moonlight. We’re going to play a little game tonight. I’m going to tell you what to do, and you’re going to do it.”

  Her husky, indrawn breath sent a bolt of want straight to his cock. “Y-yes, Sir.”

  “Step out of your shoes. You’re going to be here a while, and I don’t want your back to start aching. Step forward, and bring them to me.”

  He watched a confused frown flit across her beautiful face and suppressed a laugh. She thought he’d go right for something erotic. What she didn’t know was her act of obedience was erotic to him, and even it wasn’t to her right now, it would be eventually, if submission was what she truly desired. She toed her shoes off, then bent at the knees to pick them up. Very prim and proper. Very hot.

  She brought them to him, moving slowly. He held out his arm and grasped her hip when she’d come as close as he wanted her. He took the shoes from her hand and set them on the floor beside his chair. The last thing he wanted was her tripping over them and hurting herself. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, and she had them twined together in front of her. “Arms straight at your sides, please.”

  Slowly, she unwound her fingers and put her arms down, but her hands were balled up.

  “Relax, Olivia. Open those fists for me.”

  As she uncurled them, he drew a fingernail from the crook of her elbow along the sensitive skin on the inside of her arm, then showed her how he wanted her fingers straight. “Your arms should be at your side, your hands loose and open. Your feet should be slightly apart, about shoulder width. This is a beginner’s very basic ready pose, and it tells me you’re open to and waiting for any instructions or orders I may give you. Other acceptable standing poses are feet apart with hands clasped behind your back, or feet apart with hands clasped behind your head. Both of those put additional pressure on your spine, so I won’t ask you do to those for me, not now.”

  She frowned at that. “I’m not fragile.”

  He pinched the skin of her wrist lightly. “I know you’re not, but if we’re going to play, we’re going to be careful. And no speaking unless I ask you a question.”

  She scowled but otherwise held her tongue. He stifled a grin. He liked some attitude in his subs. A little bit of push and pull made things a lot more fun.

  “So, the rules. The most inviolate rule here is safe words. What are they, princess?” He released her hands and settled his on her hips, right over the sexy cutouts in the dress.

  “Red means stop, yellow means slow down. Um, slow down, Sir.”

  Her skin felt hot and smooth, and he drew his fingers lightly across it. She understood the concept, so he felt free to play. He leaned forward to lick a path around the diamond shape on her left hip. Goose bumps rose all over her body, and he played with those too, scraping a fingernail over the already-sensitive skin.

  She gasped, and he raked his teeth over her hipbone. Sexy as fucking hell, she was. And she tasted sweeter than any damned dessert he’d ever eaten.

  He cleared his throat. “Next rule, other than to use your safe words, you speak only when asked a question. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Master Gabriel.”

  He looked up to see her eyes squeezed shut and dark spots of color on her cheeks. She was biting her lip, but she had her hands loose at her sides as he’d directed. Scary position to be in, he knew, even if she wanted it. Especially the first time.

  Time to give her a little reward.

  “You please me, princess.” He leaned forward to give the same treatment he’d just given her left hip to her right one. “It’s a giant leap of faith, submitting to someone. I’m honored you’re trusting me with you, and I won’t abuse that trust. I promise.”

  When he looked up at her again, her eyes were wide open and diamond bright. Her lips were full from her own teeth nipping at them, and they were parted. Jesus, what he’d give to have them wrapped around his dick.

  Still too soon. He forced his own needs back, but it was damned difficult. Part of being a dominant was being in control of your needs and desires, and as much practice as he’d had doing that over the years, Olivia strained his resolve. What was it about her that made him feel as green as the first time he’d topped his partner?

  No matter why, he needed to give himself some breathing room before he did something neither of them was ready for.

  He stood and, with his hands still on her hips, walked her backward until she was in the moonbeam once again, its silvery light making her skin glow. He slid his fingers in her hair and, careful not to go too far and hurt her, tugged her head back, baring her throat. He sank his teeth into the soft skin at her neck and shoulder, biting just hard enough he’d leave a mark there. His mark, right on top of the one he’d left there earlier in the week. He soothed the sting of the bite with his tongue.

  Olivia moaned. The sound went straight to his dick. Patience.

  “Like that, do you, princess? Your skin is sweet like honey, and I’d like to taste all of it from head to toe. I can imagine where you’re even sweeter. The thought makes my mouth water and my cock hard.” And distance. He leaned close to her mouth while still holding her hair, teasing her with a kiss. He pulled back at the last minute, just like he’d done at the restaurant. She let out a frustrated noise, and he laughed. “Soon. Stay right here
, and don’t move unless I tell you to.”

  With that, he went back to his chair, leaving her standing in the moonlight.

  “Where were you today?” he asked, knowing she could easily balk at this. She hadn’t been happy he’d questioned her at the restaurant. To get an answer, he was going to have to give her a reason to tell him. A good one. “You can skip the Sir, but I’m asking you to share with me. Please. I was worried about you.”

  He heard the tiny sigh from where he sat. “At my doctor’s for the MRI.”

  His gut clenched. “I wish you’d told me. I’d have come with you. What did he say?”

  This time, no sigh, just fervent relief pouring off her. “No surgery, thank God.” And then next, black humor. “You were right, you know. He read me the riot act about overdoing my PT. I’ve also been warned not to stick my head in the sand about anything that feels off. You two would get along great. He’s just as pushy as you are.”

  She sounded both amused and annoyed by this, and unbidden jealousy sliced through him. Oh, hell no. Pushy was his job, and Olivia was his to command. He forced the unexpected envy away and concentrated on the positives. No more surgery. “That’s great news, princess. Why didn’t you say something? We could’ve celebrated.”

  She snorted, and the completely unladylike noise made him grin. “I was celebrating. Hello? Posh dress? Dinner at a lovely restaurant?”

  “Alone, though.”

  Another sigh. “Well, yes. Alone. Because you were being an idiot.”

  He raised a brow at her snarky words. “Don’t hold back telling me how you feel.”

  “Just following orders, Sir. I believe your exact words were ‘I want you to share your honest feelings with me. I don’t want to assume I know how you feel about something.’ So now you know. I think you were being a jerk.”

  He nearly choked. “Right you are. How’s this? I’ll try not to be such an idiot from now on.”