A Taste of Winter: 1 (Red Masks) Read online

  “Oh please,” she heard herself plead as his tongue snaked out to lick her clit. “Please don’t make me wait much longer.”

  As if finally taking pity on her helpless state, he placed her other leg over his shoulder, taking all of her weight as her legs buckled when he clamped his mouth around her clit. He sucked, dragging another cry of pleasure from her throat as he lapped his tongue along the sensitive knot of flesh then moved lower to tunnel it into her cunt.

  Alaina had never felt such wicked pleasure in her life as she fought against her bonds in an attempt to grab his head and hold it where she wanted. In a desperate measure she dug her heels into his back and was rewarded with a sharp smack on her ass.

  He removed his mouth and gave her a speculating look. “Unless that is what you want. Do you want me to beat that perfect ass of yours? Or would you rather I do something more depraved? Have you ever had a man take you there? Bury his cock in that tiny hole until you cannot stand the pleasure?”

  As he spoke her body began to ache in places she’d never before considered—the aforementioned hole of her ass clenching as if he’d made good on his promise and treated it to the same lavish attention with which he’d already wooed her cunt.

  As she shivered and shook and fought to form a reply she felt him slick a finger into the moisture between her thighs, running it back to that other secret spot, his eyes flashing fire behind his mask as he watched her every expression.

  She tensed as he fingered the rim of muscle, the safeword already on her lips. Sensing her hesitation he lowered his head to her sex once more, his tongue doing such sinful things to her flesh Alaina barely managed to breathe, much less find the strength to stop him.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed them in the mirror, and the sight of him nestled between her legs and feasting on her flesh was enough to topple her over the edge.

  He was beautiful. He was dangerous.

  And he was by far the best lover she had ever had.

  With a sigh she let go and opened to him completely, screaming out in both pleasure and pain as his finger breached her ass and led her into a world of desire she had not known existed. He pushed in deeper as the orgasm exploded, his other arm clamped around her legs to keep her in place as she came, her head thrown back and her back arched in blissful release.

  She thought he would release her then, but he continued to lick and lave at her clit, tucking his thumb into her cunt as his finger continued to torture her ass.

  The second orgasm came faster than the first, as if once the gates to her pleasure were opened they stayed locked into permanent place. She gasped and squirmed and begged him to stop, it was too much, the sensations too exquisite—but not once did she even think of peppermint, not even when he untied her hands and threw her across the bed.

  “Spread your legs for me,” he ordered, stepping out of his pants to show her the full length of his erection. He looked like some pagan god come to earth with his legs spread wide and his flesh so hard she thought he must be in pain from the pressure.

  Without thought she let her knees fall apart, watching in fascination as he reached into a dresser and pulled out a condom. When it was rolled securely in place he crawled between her legs, the feel of his skin so hot against hers Alaina thought she would burn to ash.

  She reached out her arms to touch him but he gave her such a stern look she wilted into the mattress.

  “Ask my permission,” he said as he loomed over her, his thick cock poised and ready to invade.

  “May I touch you, Master?” Alaina grew bold when she saw his mouth soften. “I’ve wanted to touch you all night, feel your skin beneath my fingers and your body in my arms.”

  His fingers threaded through her hair as he pulled her head back until they were mouth-to-mouth, eye-to-eye. “You have my permission,” he whispered.

  His skin jumped when she ran her hands across his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoo before moving lower to feel his flat nipples puckering beneath her fingers. She pinched them as he’d done hers, heartened when he groaned in appreciation, every muscle in his legs and back coiling as he readied to take her.

  He broke into her body with a powerful thrust, sheathing himself deep inside her. Alaina whimpered as her muscles clenched, struggling to accommodate his size. But the discomfort was quickly forgotten when he pulled back and thrust in once more, his moan of pleasure enough to make her more than eager to take him fully.

  Wrapping her legs around his back, she drew him in closer, hunger blossoming again like an old friend, need and want biting hard at her core. It was glorious to have him lodged so deep inside her, the slapping of flesh against flesh an added sensation as he rode her, taking her higher and higher with every steady thrust.

  Then just when she thought he would come without her, he pushed his hand between her legs and rubbed it along her clit, faster and faster with each new thrust, a perfectly timed arrangement that sent her soaring with him until she fell into her bliss, her body clenching him tighter and tighter until with a cry he stifled against her neck he joined her in release.

  For a long moment he sagged into her as if forgetting the roles they played, his breath slowly settling into its former steady rhythm.

  When he finally pushed himself up to sit on the side of the bed, Alaina suddenly felt strangely at a loss, uncomfortable in his presence despite the intimacies they’d shared.

  But her body was exhausted, shutting down the doubts that tried to wiggle into her mind.

  “Thank you, my beautiful slave,” he said in a tone that bordered on kind. “I haven’t been this satisfied in a very long time.” With a wink and a grin, so very unlike his earlier demeanor, he rose and dressed, giving her a last look before he left and closed the door behind him.

  Alaina let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and giggled, the girly sound surprising her in the emptiness of the room. She’d actually done it—had mind-blowing anonymous sex with the most fascinating stranger she’d ever met!

  And if she played her cards right it might not be the last. Gathering up the pile of her clothes from the floor, she followed the man’s actions, hugging herself as she fished out her cell phone and called for a taxi to take her home.

  * * * * *

  The next day Alaina overslept for the first time in years. Although her body had been totally sated, she kept replaying the encounter in her mind—searching for things she refused to put a name to, seeking answers to questions she refused to ask. As a result she fell into a shifting slumber where every creak was the stranger making his way to her bed, every whisper of the sheets his voice calling out her name in pleasure.

  Except he didn’t know her name. And she had no assurance at all she would ever see or touch him again.

  It was just before dawn when her body finally won the battle with her mind and she settled into a dreamless sleep…only to be rudely awakened by the sound of her cell phone ringing over and over and over.

  “This had better be important,” she snarled, bringing it to her ear.

  “Ms. Winter? Ryan. Have I interrupted your beauty sleep?”

  Oh, hell. The amusement in his voice sent her crappy mood into overdrive. He’d caught her slacking, the bastard.

  “Mr. Marquis,” she breathed, snapping her wits together. “How lovely of you to call.” A quick glance at the clock told her it was well past eight a.m. Despite it being Sunday, she had a list of things she needed to accomplish. Especially since she’d done nothing yesterday except—

  Smiling despite the man on the other end of the line, Alaina let her thoughts return to her gorgeous Master and his room of pleasure until she heard him clear his throat.

  Her good mood turned sour as she answered, “What do you want?” She made certain her own tone dripped disapproval. Why on earth was the man calling on a Sunday? He had never called on a Sunday, not once in all the time she’d worked for him. Damn. Too late she remembered the LaRue House paint job. He was surely calling to chew
her out about the color.

  “And a good day to you too.” Was it her imagination or did she hear a chuckle, the man sounding pleased as hell with himself. “Tsk, tsk, sleeping in? Did you have a late night?” His voice was huskier than normal, sending a thrill of anticipation up her spine—a delicious wave of desire that took her totally by surprise.

  Seriously? One night of amazing sex and now every man turned her on—even her bastard of a boss? Not that there was any mistaking the way her heart beat faster and her palms turned moist, her throat clamping shut and refusing to make any sound at all lest she say something stupid like how his voice made her stomach flip.

  “Miss Winter? Can you hear me? Are you still there?” Dear God, had he always had that subtle Southern purr that rippled across her skin?

  Gathering her wits before she could do anything ridiculous, Alaina managed to clear her throat. “Yes Mr. Marquis, I can hear you. And I am still here despite the fact I would rather be talking to the devil himself. What new torture do you have planned for me today?” Alaina snapped her mouth shut too late, the words already buzzing across the line in another of her recent blatant challenges.

  His bark of laughter echoed in her ear, making her tremble in aroused response. Surely he had never laughed before. Not like that, so deep she swore she could feel it vibrate between her legs.

  “From past experience I thought you were well aware of my—needs, shall we say?” His voice had dropped another degree into sexy. Fantasy and reality merged as she imagined her boss whispering in her ear while his skillful hands tied her down and began to torment every inch of her flesh until her knees grew weak and the ache in her cunt had her screaming for…

  “Miss Winter, I do hope you are paying close attention. If you do not change the color of the LaRue House immediately I will be forced to punish you accordingly.”

  The threat sent a thrill of fear to add its impact on Alaina’s already overstimulated imagination. Punished? She wanted to be punished. Longed to be punished—if it led her to the heights of ecstasy she’d experienced last night.

  Then she remembered where she was and exactly who she was talking to.

  “Mr. Marquis, I assure you the LaRue House is being painted exactly as it should be. The light green is perfect, I checked it against the Historical Board’s guidelines myself.” Let him chew on that. “And if you intend to levy another of your infamous fines you should know I have no intention of paying it unless you intend to drag me to court, in which case I will call upon the Historical District to back my choice.”

  How do you like that, you pompous ass?

  But before she could finish patting herself on the back, the man chuckled once more. A soft, menacing sound that made her nipples stand up. “You want a fight, my dear Alaina? I cannot wait to take you on.” Ryan clicked off before she could form a suitable reply.

  As pissed off as she’d ever been in her life, Alaina threw her phone across the room, enjoying watching it crash against the wall. Fuck the man and his legions of demands. She was through with bowing and scraping and agreeing to his every miniscule modification, done with having her every decision second-guessed.

  The phone tried to ring, a garbled sound from the floor, but Alaina had already headed to the shower to slough off the caress of her boss’s voice and scrub away any lingering want in her stomach even as she remembered over and over the seductive innuendo of his final words.

  * * * * *

  In his office at Marquis Development Ryan clasped his hands behind his head, leaned back in his chair and pondered the delicious change in Miss Alaina Winter. He’d always known she was more than she appeared and after he’d taken her to his bed last night he’d finally unleashed her very naughty-girl side.

  But he had to be careful or he’d give the game away—and he had no intention of losing his ice queen so soon. Not before he had another chance to make her scream—and she did scream. His cock rose to attention as he remembered the way she’d whimpered and begged, the way she’d closed her eyes and clamped her legs around him when she came. And he would have another taste of Winter before the week was through.

  The thought of her round and naked ass bent across his lap, his palm stinging from the smack of flesh against flesh while she pleaded with him for mercy made him surly with desire, the throb between his legs growing to a point where he could barely manage to stand and pace across the room.

  His lovely employee in no way resembled any other woman he’d fucked in the past, her cold and calm exterior more than at odds with the heated submission he’d demanded and received. Even the glares of defiance she’d continued to give him were enough to make his blood boil hotter.

  And the way she’d spoken to him today…

  With a growl of pure disgust that he could not control any part of him at all, Ryan picked up the phone, continuing to prowl his office like a wounded beast as he placed his order and gave the address.

  Soon, Miss Winter—very soon—you will have another lesson in obedience.

  If his balls ached for the entire week so be it.

  He couldn’t get the thought of her out of his mind.

  Chapter Three

  While not totally illegal, Alaina’s inspection of the property hadn’t been approved by the city or Mr. Saladar so she parked her car a few yards down the street and strolled casually toward the rusted fence that encircled the area, a barrage of no-trespassing signs posted along its perimeter.

  Since the fence was too high for her to climb, she settled for wrenching a broken piece of it wide enough to slide through, pulling it back down behind her as she turned to inspect the area. What had once been a brick-paved drive was now pitted and strewn with weeds that had pushed up between the blocks, crumbling them to dust in places. But she thought there would be enough left to recycle into a new driveway and the mingling of the old and new would be both aesthetically pleasing and a historical draw for Mr. Saladar.

  She pulled the small notebook from her bag and jotted down her ideas as she made her way closer to the building itself.

  Originally built as a bank in 1828, it had been converted into a hospital during the Civil War and later used as an orphanage until it had been abandoned in the seventies. Greek Revival style, it sported the signature pointed roof above a full porch with huge round columns—although broken and battered they still sported lovely scrolled spirals of Ionic design. She knew a company who made excellent reproductions of the columns and jotted down another note.

  Two-storied at its core, it boasted single-level rounded wings on either side, which gave it an ornate appearance. She could just imagine those circular rooms filled with lush and cozy couches, a piano on one side and perhaps an office on the other. The bedrooms would remain upstairs with added bathrooms for modern convenience.

  Although she couldn’t gain access to the interior of the building, by scraping off some well-crusted dust and peeking through the crumbling wood that boarded up the windows she could see that the interior of the place was in better shape than she’d expected. No graffiti marred the walls and there was no major water damage as far as she could tell. Still it would have to be inspected and renovated from the foundation to the roof, a project she found both daunting and exhilarating.

  She picked her way through the remnants of what had once been elegant flowerbeds toward the back of the building, inhaling the fragrance of a few antique roses still blooming along the walls and setting her imagination free as she sketched garden after garden in her pad, azalea, bougainvillea and jasmine interspersed with huge pots of geranium to bring splashes of vibrant red to the mix.

  As was usual in Charleston the clouds and cold of the day before had morphed into a balmy and pleasant afternoon, the sun throwing shards of light along the garden paths and illuminating the late-blooming flowers. She was so caught up the lure of the flowers Alaina didn’t hear the voices until they were almost upon her—and her heart shuddered to a halt as she recognized the clipped voice of the one man in all the
world she prayed she would never have to see again.

  Oh no. He was so not here, not when she had finally come up with a project she could keep away from his obsessive and controlling eyes.

  Eyes that for some odd reason she didn’t want seeing her makeup-free, in the worst pair of threadbare jeans she owned and a t-shirt so washed and worn it had holes along the hem.

  Crap.

  Too slow on the uptake, Alaina couldn’t disappear into the shadows quick enough, just managing to slam her dark glasses into place before two men came angling down the path her way.

  She recognized the slick of dark hair and black Italian suit from their few previous meetings. Today he’d forgone his usual tie and collar, a pale-blue t-shirt taking their place. One that outlined his very well-developed chest and clung to a stomach that didn’t possess a single ounce of fat she could see. Had he been hiding that perfect body from her all these months or had she just been too aggravated with the man to notice?

  She noticed today, a dark tingle aching between her legs, her shoulders standing to military attention as her breasts seemed to thrust of their own accord toward him.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Trying to keep from shrieking in frustration that her body had seemingly careened out of her control, Alaina forced herself to remain perfectly still as the men approached and turned her attention to the stranger. Not that it did an ounce of good. As tall and broad as Ryan, the man had on a pair of jeans that looked as if they’d been sewn in place. If Ryan’s hair was an inky brown, the other man’s was black as pitch, his skin tanned from hours in the sun, a wrinkle of laugh lines framing liquid-black eyes as he turned toward her, his face lighting up with a sinful smile.

  For the briefest of instants Alaina imagined an entirely different scene, one where these two gorgeous men grabbed her and pressed her tight between them, every hard and demanding inch of them glued to every soft and welcoming inch of her.