Forbidden Ritual

Again she swayed. His provocative stare had her skin prickling.

One corner of his mouth lifted.

Erotic suggestion hung in the atmosphere between them. “Please, Giles. You’ve got me in a state.” She tripped on her words, her rising objection making her speak before thinking. “I can’t think straight because I want you so much.”

When he lifted an eyebrow knowingly, she looked at the floor.

“I want you too,” he replied, “but the better I know you, the better this will be.”

“It’s already too good,” she blurted, then bit her lip, realizing what she’d said. She was afraid of getting too deep, afraid that one day she would submit to him and lose herself totally.

“It is good.” The hungry look in his eyes as he glanced over her body made her shiver. “But you deserve better than a quick shag at the end of your work day, and I want to give it to you.”

What they did was hardly a quick shag, but it was true that their time together was something she engaged in between work and sleep, and that’s how she kept it compartmentalized in her life, just like everything else.

He shifted in his seat, resting one ankle on the opposite knee as if they were having a casual chat about business and no more. “Now, tell me how well I know you.”

Despite the directness of his comment, his commanding tone made her melt.

Up until that moment she could have turned away, asked him to unlock the cuffs and let her leave. Not now. Not after he’d asked her again, and said it with such deliberate inquiry. It made something inside her begin to buckle. The truth of it was she didn’t want to leave, she wanted him too much. She thought they’d found a plateau in their

relationship, one that they were both happy with. Obviously not. His dominant nature and her need for an edge of pain to heighten her pleasure seemed to slide nicely along each other. Now he was pushing her beyond her comfort zone. How did he do that to her, she wondered. She’d been lured by his dominant nature, even though it was so far from what she really wanted out of life. To be an independent woman who didn’t need a man, that was her goal.

“I’m not even sure how well I know myself,” she whispered. It felt like a confession. She stared at his chest, broad and hard and dusted with fine dark hair that tapered into a thinner line leading her gaze from his breastbone to the button on his fly. What she knew without any shadow of a doubt was that when he claimed her, he owned her. In the throes of passion she was his willing submissive, and it was this edgy feeling before she gave in to it, this tight, breathless anticipation he caused in her that made every encounter so darkly delicious. She couldn’t risk falling, though.

Giles seemed to sense her hesitance. “Your feminine strength fascinates me,” he stated. “You go after everything you want but you always move on, fast, and that concerns me.”

She felt her face heating. That was how she worked, but he wasn’t just talking about work, that was quite obvious. By day she was a high-ranking government minister, and Giles was a press officer who had broken through her self-imposed isolation. She’d devoted herself to her job. The intense encounters he offered had become the only ripple in her orderly life, a treasured hour-long reprieve from being proper, formal and dignified. “I’m highly motivated, I have to be, but what’s your point?”

“My point is that even powerful people can grow by challenging themselves.” He clasped his fingers together, his hands drawing her attention, her skin aching for the touch of them. “You might benefit from more…restraint.”

The way he said that indicated he’d thought it through. A darkly suggestive glance flitted through his eyes, and his handsome mouth pursed slightly as he considered her.

Her sex swelled. The nape of her neck felt damp. “You’re suggesting more than the cuffs?”

He nodded.

“But we agreed, the cuffs for…what I want.” The flat of his hand on her backside before and during sex.

“Yup, we agree. Simple as that. A trade, a nice neat business transaction where everyone gets a fair deal.” He smiled at her knowingly. “But now I want you to let me tip your scales.”

Heat flared at her center, but she shook her head. “I can’t.”

Giving him total control over her was something she couldn’t allow to happen. She began to twist her wrists in the cuffs, wanting them off. The idea of finding her clothes and ending this was tempting, because it was easy. Then she let her gaze wander over his body. Even when fully dressed his expensive clothing barely concealed his obvious strength. Half-naked, the very look of him was enough to dampen her panties. Bulky with muscle, he made her feel supple as a rag doll in his hands during sex, melding her to his body, bringing her to orgasm time and time again.

Giles shook his head, allowing her to feel his scrutiny. “You’re an inspiring woman, but even when you come it’s as if you’re always holding something back.”

Breathing had become difficult. His words struck a note with her and she recognized herself in what he said. Lord, he does know me. He was right. She held back because she didn’t dare do otherwise. This man was her junior, and eight years younger than her.

“Seeing you on the edge of losing control is such a turn on for me,” he added. “I enjoy bringing you to that point.” He smiled, and it was filled with dangerous charm. “I’m enjoying watching you now. Your eyes are dilated, and your skin is flushed. Your nipples are diamond-hard.” He moved his fingers, gesturing at her upright form while he sat in the chair, observing her. “You’re racked with sexual tension. It makes me want to break it apart from inside you.”

The way he described her sent her aching sex into overdrive.

Then he rested one hand over his belt, a casual gesture but one that made her glance at his groin, where he was hard beneath his zipper. Frustration bit into her. How could he be so in control? He was younger than her and a testosterone-fuelled man, and yet he obviously enjoyed working her to fever pitch before giving her what they both wanted. Subtle confidence oozed from his every pore. It was what had drawn her to him in the first place. The sense of presence he created in a meeting was profound, even when he was quiet and watchful.

“I’d put money on your underwear being very damp,” he added.

Her skin raced with sensation, the thrill of his words touching her everywhere, inside and out. She wanted him to fuck her. But he was making her listen, controlling her with his intimate, knowing words.