Beneath her thighs, his cock rose and pressed against her, illustrating just how much he wanted that.
His fingers trembled as he stroked them down her throat, then reached inside her bathrobe to skim her breast. “You are my instrument. I will play you, and create beautiful music with you. Through you, my soul will take flight. And in return I will give you all the care a musician lavishes upon his most valued possession. You will want for nothing. But only if you will be completely mine.”
Gayle shivered beneath his touch, aching to erase the note of desperate isolation in his voice. It was almost as though he expected her to refuse him.
“Yes.”
His hand stilled. “Yes?”
“Yes. I will be yours.”
For a moment, he clutched her tightly, burying his masked face in her hair. Then he stood abruptly, setting her on her feet and stepping away from her.
“You don’t know what you’re agreeing to. I’ll ask you again once you understand what I’m asking.”
Pain lanced through her. “Are you rejecting me?”
“No! Never that.” He thrust both hands through his hair, the thick elastic band holding his mask catching in his fingers and snapping loudly. He winced at the blow. “Forget dessert. Come upstairs with me. Now.”
“Yes, Master Rikard.”
Taking her hand in his gloved one, he led her from the kitchen, shaking his head. “You want to serve me? I’ll show you how to serve.”
Chapter Six
Rikard hauled her up the stairs to the second floor, then dragged her into the guest bedroom. Gayle had only a moment to note the décor—a dresser and nightstand of natural oak with wrought iron accents, a wrought iron bed with swirling spires topping each corner post, and matching curtain rods covered with black and white sheers—before he ripped off her robe and pushed her onto the bed.
“Is this what you wanted?” he spat.
Gayle scrambled into the center of the bed and turned to face him, crouched ready to spring to freedom if he gave her a chance. “No.”
He ignored her protest. This was not going down the way she’d expected, and she braced herself to fight if he tried to take more than she was prepared to give.
“So eager to serve, you don’t care what will be asked of you.”
He untied the laces of his leather pants with sharp, savage jerks. His pants fell to the floor, tangling with his boots. He kicked them off, his motions full of anger rather than his usual grace. One boot flew across the room to strike the dresser with a solid thud. He wrenched off his poet shirt next, flinging it aside to stand naked before her in only his leather mask and gloves.
His rampant erection jutted forcefully at her, red and angry-looking.
She tried one last time to get through to him. “Please, Rikard, what did I say?”
“That’s Master Rikard. I still wear the mask.”
“Master Rikard. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you angry. Only tell me what I said, and I’ll never say it again.”
Terror choked her voice. Carrie had been right. She didn’t know enough about Rikard to trust him. What insanity had possessed her to spend the whole day having sex with him? They were just supposed to be getting to know one another.
“First you vow you’ll belong only and ever to me, now you promise to never give yourself to me again? I find I’m having trouble believing you.”
Okay. That’s what had set him off. She could think this through logically. That’s what she was good at. Given a problem to solve, she forced the fear to keep at bay. It helped that he wasn’t advancing on her, merely clutching the nearest bedpost in a death grip and glaring at her.
“I didn’t vow to belong only and ever to you. All I said was that I wanted to be yours. I wanted to be your submissive.”
He hesitated, his voice losing its strident tone. “My submissive only.”
“All right. I’ll give you the only. But not the ever. I wasn’t talking a lifetime arrangement. I was thinking of right now.”
A shudder rippled through him, his eyes closing as his head bent. He released the bedpost, and took a step backwards. Then another. She noted with relief that his cock had softened to semi-erect. Sighing, he bent to pick up her fallen robe and his discarded clothing. Gayle started to relax. He folded the robe and placed it on the bed beside her, then turned away to set his folded clothing on top of the dresser.