Free XXX - 145 Enslave: The Taming of the Beast by Cathy Yardley Page B

home, angling with her, forcing her against the desk. She was on the elusive edge, but there was something that wasn’t working. Something that wasn’t right. She wanted to tell him to stop, to wait, but it was a bit too late.
She could feel it when he came. He let out a low, surprised grunt, and then shuddered against her uncontrollably, collapsing on top her of her, crushing her against his desk.
She frowned. That was exciting.
And, well, a bit disappointing.
He withdrew finally, and when she turned, he was all business, getting dressed. She got dressed, too.
“I can get you all the money you need,” he promised, his voice fervent.
“Thank you.”
He suddenly looked young and hopeful. “When can I see you again?”
“Soon,” she said gently. She kissed him, and he seemed to sway against her. She nudged him away.
When she got back to her car, she flipped open her cell phone, dialing Phillipe’s number.
“Jelena,” he greeted her, his cultured voice smooth as satin. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so…”
“I’ve started to get the money,” she said. “One hundred thousand. I can get more.” She gritted her teeth. “I intend to get more.”
He seemed startled. “What does that have to do with me?”
“I don’t have time—” She bit off the sentence. He didn’t care about her timelines—didn’t care about Nadia’s life. She took a deep breath. “You’re interested in women with power. I’m interested in learning about it. I wanted to know if you might also be interested in giving me some lessons.”
He paused, and she could sense he was intrigued. Men and their egos. He didn’t want to help her, but he couldn’t resist being seen as a master.
“All right,” he said. “Come to my house tonight. And I’ll teach you a few things.”
She hung up. She’d learn fast. She’d save Nadia.
But first, she thought, she was going to take some steps. She had money now.
She dialed another number, and started to set her trap.

Chapter Five

“You missed a spot.”
Nadia glanced over at him, a smile already on her lips. She looked polite, inquisitive. Like an employee at a hotel, eager and willing to somehow make sure his experience was exemplary.
He grinned. She didn’t fool him for a moment. She was many things, but subservient never made the list.
“Where?” she finally asked, her voice several shades of sweetness. As if nothing on earth would please her more than to clean up after him.
He nodded over to the bookcase. She moved with careful precision, using the feather duster in one hand to brush away the imagined dirt. It was a painfully slow process, given the fact that she had a spacer bar over her shoulders, with both wrists attached at either end with leather restraints. The bar latched to a collar rigged around her throat.
It was a joke, sort of. He still hadn’t quite forgiven her for the paring knife incident. Granted, there was absolutely no way she would have been able to kill him with the paltry little weapon. Still, it was the thought behind it.
There was still a standing, open hit out on him, had been for the past three years. He’d be damned if he got capped in his sleep by a pretty little brunette amateur because he’d gotten careless and let his dick do his thinking.
She dropped the feather duster. She sighed softly, then got down on her knees, carefully maneuvering to awkwardly pick it back up. The position—kneeling, naked, with the black spacer bar spreading her arms—was unbelievably arousing.
That hadn’t exactly been the point, either, but he certainly wasn’t complaining about the results.
When she got back up, he noticed another nice side benefit of the bar. It forced her to arch her back slightly, her breasts jutting forward in delectable presentation. She smiled slowly, a smile full of promise, and she looked down, hiding her eyes with her thick fringe of lashes. God, she was beautiful.
He went hard in a rush. He was a walking erection these days, he thought