Free Dominance and Deception by Amy Valenti Page A

up into her line of sight, her eyes widened and she bit her lip, a shiver of anticipation thrilling through her body. I paused for a second, giving her time to back out if she needed to, making no attempt to hide the way my eyes swept over every part of her.
    "Are you ready?"
    She swallowed hard, her eyes on the crop. Shaking a tendril of damp hair from her cheek before answering, she nodded, her words just barely whispered.
    "Yes, Sir."
    The way she submitted, unquestioning, to my authority made me want to throw aside the crop right then. I needed to be inside her, needed to hear her beg for release, needed to lose control completely. But not yet. The scene had yet to be played out.
    Faye looked from the crop to my face, and from the slight upward quirk of her eyebrow I could tell she'd caught on to my train of thought.
    "Or we could just...” she said softly, shifting seductively against the mattress.
    Snapped back into my role, I stared her out until she stilled and broke eye contact.
    A flicker of amusement remained in her voice as she conceded, “I'm sorry, Sir. I was outta line."
    "You're damn right,” I said, and without warning cracked the crop down onto her breast, just below the nipple.
    She yelled with combined pleasure and pain, attempting to suppress the grin on her face.
    I paused to let the blow register, knowing she was hardly even trying to be properly submissive. Most of the time, she let it wash over her, sinking so far into the state that it took time for her to come back from it. Tonight she was in a playful mood of a completely different kind—cheerfully insolent and willing to take all the punishment I could meter out. I already knew she'd let me whip her until she was sore all over, then defy me for just a little longer, setting her tolerance for pain against my willingness to give it.
    I've never been one to back down from a challenge.
    Faye looked down at the red mark rising on her flesh, then up at me. “That the best you can do, Sir?"
    I raised the crop, never letting my pissed-off facade slip. “I haven't even started—"
    Faye's phone rang, the unexpected sound disorientating us both. She groaned, scowling at the offending object as if it was sentient.
    "Damn it! Not now!” She tugged expectantly at her handcuffs. “Okay, let me out of these."
    I stood there, impassive, and she rolled her eyes.
    "Zach, seriously. Someone's probably dead and we'll have to go to work."
    I knew she was right, but that didn't mean I had to like it. Dropping the crop and stepping over the tangle of our clothing, I crossed to the dresser and checked the caller ID. Sure enough, it was Santoro. For a brief moment, I entertained the irrational thought of firing him, but it passed.
    Without releasing Faye from her bonds, I hit the speakerphone button to answer the call.
    Taking a deep breath to steady her breathing, she spoke. “Santoro, this better be good. I'm a little tied up right now."
    As I stifled a chuckle, Santoro replied, “I know, it's really late and I'm sorry. But we have a problem. There's been a triple homicide, and Pierce isn't answering his cell. His home phone's off the hook."
    I didn't remember taking my home phone off the hook, but I'd left my cell phone switched off in the car, which was parked outside Faye's place.
    "He probably let the battery run down again,” she told Santoro. “I'll stop by his place on the way into work, okay?"
    "Are you sure? It's not out of your way?"
    "I'm sure. You get going, and I will handle Pierce.” She winked at me.
    "You're risking an awful lot, here,” I murmured, quietly enough that the cell phone wouldn't pick it up.
    "Relax,” she mouthed back.
    "That'd really help,” Santoro said wearily. “Thanks."
    "So what do I tell Pierce when I see him?” Faye asked.
    Silently, I sat on the edge of the bed. Faye's eyes widened, and she shook her head at me, though I could tell her heart wasn't really in the denial.
    As Santoro began to outline the case, his