Alexandra

  The powerful man was full of surprises.

  He’d made a phone call once outside the club, refusing to allow me to hear what was being said. I was excited and nervous, wondering what he had in mind. The look on his face gave me goosebumps, as if we were entering into another realm of our kinky relationship.

  The word seemed strange, as if I was living another life. I’d been a sheltered girl, not allowed to go wild like my friends. I’d told myself I’d fall in love with a nice boy, live on a small ranch, and have three kids and a dog, along with the picket fence. I’d learned the hard way that typical fantasies weren’t in my future.

  Maybe that’s why I’d gravitated toward Jameson, longing to be taken care of, treated like a princess.

  He said nothing as he drove away from the club, keeping his hand firmly planted on my knee. My thoughts drifted to the scene with the bullwhip. While the look on the girl’s face as every lash was cracked against her naked body indicated the highest form of pleasure, I remained sick to my stomach. In truth, I was glad that we’d left the club.

  “How much further?”

  He squeezed my leg. “Patience, my dear girl.”

  “You know I don’t have any.”

  “You will learn.”

  “And you’re my teacher?”

  “In all things.”

  The man was so dominating yet kind, but I sensed the protective side of him was just under the surface. He didn’t like anyone even looking in my direction. I’d loathed everything about possessive men after what I’d endured. I’d run away on purpose, promising myself that I would never enter into any kind of dominating relationship. Now this. Now… him.

  As he continued to drive through the brightly lit streets, a realization hit me hard.

  I was falling hard for the man. It wasn’t just about lust, although the passion we shared was undeniably incredible. The way I felt about him gripped my heart and soul, my need to be around him increasing. He had a way of making me feel beautiful even when I felt such ugliness. And he made certain I was comfortable in every situation, watching my reaction closely.

  I’d noticed the way Philip Dumas had looked at me, as if he could be allowed even a single taste. Jameson would never allow anyone else to touch me. A single shiver trickled through my body, the moment shared special. I couldn’t predict the future but I knew one thing with certainty.

  I could see a life with this man.

  Oh, God. Was that even possible? What did I have to offer someone of his stature?

  When I looked away, his breathing changed. I could swear he read my mind and my moods better than anyone ever had.

  “You know I’ll never force you to do anything you don’t want to do. Correct?” His deep voice rumbled in the dense space, filling me with tingles.

  “I know that, but as strange as I find it for myself, I want to please you.”

  “You do. I don’t need you to be anything but what your heart tells you is right. Always follow your instincts. They will never steer you wrong.”

  Little did they know my instincts had betrayed me once. Never again.

  “I’m curious. What’s your favorite flower?”

  His question caught me off guard.

  “A beautiful sterling silver rose. The delicate purple is spectacular. Why?”

  “I want to learn everything about you.”

  The deep vibe to his voice was entirely different, the tone keeping a fire burning deep within. He had a way of making me feel special.

  Moments later, he pulled into a parking lot, the sign secured on the brick surface brightly lit neon. “What does that say?”

  “Picturesque Ink.”

  “A tattoo place?”

  “Yes,” he said, half laughing. “As well as piercings.”

  My stomach did a series of flipflops. “You were serious about piercing my nipples.”

  He pulled into a space and tipped his head, his grin easy to see in the glow of the sign. “I was. However, I’ve wanted another tattoo. I thought now was the perfect time.”

  I pressed my fingers against my mouth, trying to decide if I was excited or terrified. Both. I would never have considered something so… sinful a few months before. Good girls didn’t get their nipples pierced. Or did they?

  “I’ll ask you one more time. Is this something you want?”

  There was no pressure, no insistence that I do something I couldn’t stand. The answer was far too easy. “Yes.”

  I could tell by the smile on his face that I’d pleased him. When he helped me out of the car, wrapping his arm around my waist, I’d never felt so cared for or protected in my life. Maybe moving to Miami wasn’t such an irresponsible decision after all.

  “Mr. Stark,” the girl behind the counter said. “We’ve been expecting you.”

  She spoke English, her accent lovely. The shop was beautifully decorated with colorful photographs of tattoos from clients, and other art to inspire designs and creations. It was bright and clean, leather sofas in the corner of the room with what had to be design books placed on a glorious coffee table.

  “My beautiful Alexandra is very special,” he said in response.

  The girl turned her attention to me, her smile remaining. “We’ll take very good care of her. Would you like to be in the room while the piercing is done? We can have your ink done at the same time.”

  “Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  As we were led into another room, I realized I was holding my breath.

  “I’ll need you to remove your dress. Don’t worry. You can have a sheet to cover you. If at anytime you feel uncomfortable, just let the technician know. We want this to be a pleasurable experience for you.” The girl guided me to a small room to change and I almost panicked. This was the craziest thing I’d ever done in my life.

  “I don’t know anything about this,” I admitted.

  She patted my arm. “My name is Julie. I didn’t either. My dom was insistent and I almost ran out of the store. But now I wouldn’t consider going anywhere without my piercings. Would you like to see them?”

  Heat rushed to my face, but I nodded. She wasn’t shy about lifting her top, exposing her diamond-studded nipples.

  “You’ll have a wide variety of choices once you heal. Your master was very specific in his selection. You won’t have any issues. Just come out when you’re ready.”

  “I’m not having my clit pierced today?”

  Julie laughed. “That wasn’t listed on the instructions. I have that as well. It’s very sexual. I hope your master will allow that one day for you. You won’t be disappointed.”

  I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. Ready. Would I ever be ready to let go of the past entirely? After taking several deep breaths, I removed my dress. Already braless and wearing only a thong, I stood in front of the small mirror, studying my breasts. They were considered voluptuous yet fit perfectly in his hands. I squeezed them, pinching my nipples until pain forced me to wince.

  My nipples were already hard, aching from our rough round of passion. I tried to imagine what the sensations would feel like once they were pierced. The strangest thing of all was that I no longer recognized the girl in the mirror. She’d grown by leaps and bounds, her eyes sparkling and her skin flushed from excitement.

  There was never a dull moment being around Jameson.

  I took another minute before grabbing one of the sheets folded on a shelf, tying it around my waist. A rush of embarrassment forced me to fold my arms over my chest as I left the dressing area.

  As soon as I exited, Jameson lifted his head, the desire in his eyes sending a wave of adrenaline into my system. A single look from the man caused my pussy to clench and release.

  An older man entered the room, conversing with Jameson in French. I only knew a few words from my high school French class, but I could easily tell the technician was being instructed to take good care of me.

  Or else.

  “My name is Pierre. Please move to the table. This won’t take very long.”

  I did as requested, unable to take my eyes off Jameson as he removed his shirt, moving to another chair as someone else entered the room. I’d never felt so exposed yet free in my life. As I leaned back against the incline, Pierre adjusted it then studied my breasts.

  “At any time if you’re uncomfortable, just give me the word and I’ll stop. You’ll feel a pinch from pain but that will go away quickly. Are you ready to begin?”

  Was I? “Yes.”

  He nodded, adjusting the swinging light overhead. As he pulled what looked like an antiseptic bottle into his hand, I sucked in my breath. Pierre was gentle, taking his time cleaning both nipples. When he pulled a marker into his hand, I almost laughed from nervousness.

  His grin was kind, as if knowing I was struggling with embarrassment. Then he marked a spot.

  “Now, I will clamp your nipple to make it easier. You’ll feel some pressure.”

  I nodded, uncertain I could find my voice.

  Jameson never took his eyes off me, piercing mine even from the distance.

  As the tattoo artist began whatever design Jameson had selected, I barely felt the pinch as the needle went through my nipple. I only glanced down after the gold piece was secured, the delicate barbell shimmering in the light. The technician moved to the other side and I arched my back, struggling with the various emotions skittering through me. Pierre repeated the same actions, only lifting his gaze from his task once.

  This time, I felt the slight hint of pain, exhaling to try to ease the tension. When the other bar was clipped into place, I felt the difference in weight, almost laughing from the instant sensations.

  When Pierre was finished, allowing me to rise from the table, I sensed a change in Jameson, his aura darker than before.

  I knew then that the promises he’d made, the intentions he’d shown could not be denied.

  He intended on owning me. Not just for an extended timeframe or until he grew bored with the ecstasy we shared.

  The man with the gorgeous face, eyes that continued to roam over my half naked body had made a decision that I couldn’t ignore even if I wanted to.

  I belonged to him.

  My body, my soul.

  And my heart.

  CHAPTER 20

  Alexandra

  The cool breeze tickled my skin, the view of Paris even more incredible at night, the streets quieter given the late hour. I stood with my hands gripping the railing, terrified yet exhilarated. The soft strains of guitar music floated from the open set of French doors, keeping me electrified as I gazed from the Eiffel Tower to the stars twinkling in the sky. The moment was magical. It felt like all the fairytales I’d had as a little girl had come true.

  I sensed Jameson’s approach as I always did, taking a deep breath of his lingering aftershave. As usual, the exotic spices infused with sandalwood and just the perfect hint of orange created another significant wave of desire. I don’t know why I felt like this was a turning point, but when he’d finally revealed the tattoo he’d selected, I’d felt honored, and strangely giddy.

  The creation was beautiful, the sterling silver rose woven with a single letter—a capital A. I’d been shocked and still was, uncertain what adorning his skin with my initial meant to him. I’d watched the creation coming to life, enjoying the process as much as the finished product.

  I tipped my head, noticing he’d brought two glasses of champagne. How could I keep from smiling?

  “You’re spoiling me,” I told him.

  “And the issue is?” He laughed softly as he laid the glasses on the coffee table, quickly moving behind me, placing his hands over mine. “I enjoy indulging you.”

  “Why?”

  “Why? Because you should be made to feel special.”

  “I’m just a girl who lost her way.”

  “Haven’t we all done that at least once in our lives?” His question wasn’t rhetorical but very personal. As he moved beside me, leaning over the railing, I sensed he’d lost himself in whatever moment in the past was continuing to haunt him.

  “Who was she?”

  He didn’t respond or seem as if he’d heard me for a few seconds. When he lowered his head, glancing over his shoulder, the look in his eyes was both primal as well as cautionary. “She?”

  “The woman who broke your heart.”

  His reaction was slow but intended. Then he glanced toward the Eiffel Tower. “Her name was Pamela. She was my assistant several years ago, originally from a temp service.”

  “What happened?”

  “She was very good at what she did, keeping me on track as no one else had managed to do before. We were working late one night. I took her to dinner. Sparks flew. We found out we had more things in common than we’d originally thought. Her father worked in construction like mine did. She came from a small town. We enjoyed spending time together.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “I became too dominating for her. She finally admitted she didn’t like the club, the kink and wanted no part of the life I shared. By then, her brother had arrived in town to take her home. We had a confrontation and things were testy after that. She was very tight with her family.”

  I had a feeling there was much more to the story. “So she broke it off.”

  “Not before I found her sharing special time with a bartender.” He laughed, the sound bitter.

  “That’s terrible.”

  “I was incensed, of course, becoming the jealous man. I beat the guy before throwing him out. That was the end.”

  “But it wasn’t. Was it?”

  Jameson laughed. “What I learned much later was that she’d set up the encounter so I’d find her. She wanted to make certain I broke it off.”

  “Did she tell you that?”

  “No. Another employee did but that was months later. I tried to call Pamela, but she refused to talk to me.”

  “I’m very sorry.”

  “It was my fault. I’d tried to push her into a lifestyle she wanted no part of, which is why I will never do that with you. The club is my job. It doesn’t need to be my life.”

  “But it is your life, something that’s very important to you. I wouldn’t try and take any of that away.”

  “You’re wise beyond your years.” He shifted toward me, pressing the tips of his fingers against my cheek. A shiver bolted through my muscles and I pressed my hand against his chest.

  “Not really. You don’t know me that well.”

  His grin was full of dark hunger. “I think I do. In fact, I know I do.”

  “Have you talked with her since?”

  “No. She made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to continue a friendship. She left the job. Left the state. Unfortunately, I heard from her brother recently that she died.”

  “Oh, God.” Another death. Another tragedy. I couldn’t believe how we’d managed to find each other.

  I pulled away, fisting my hand. He’d exposed a part of him that I doubted few people knew about. I wasn’t prepared to do the same. It was far too painful.

  “Don’t run away from me as you did from Montana, Alexandra. I’ll never hurt you.”

  “I never said you would, but what I went through I wouldn’t wish on anyone.” I heard the edge and the sadness in my voice and cringed. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry with you, just with my life.”

  He wrapped his arm around me, tugging me close. I didn’t want to pull away any longer. He’d been the only comfort I’d felt in so long that I melted against him.

  “Talk to me, Alexandra.”

  I took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds. The feel of his hard body pressed against mine was scintillating, so much so I wrapped my arm around his. “Does your arm hurt from the tat?”

  “Just tender. Your gorgeous nipples?”

  “They ache.” I wanted so much to share with him everything that had occurred. My fear wasn’t about dredging up the past but about what he’d think of me.

  “It will take time.” He said nothing else, merely holding me as we gazed out at the city together.

  Suddenly, I couldn’t stand holding back the truth from him any longer. If he thought less of me, then I’d understand. I continued to blame myself and likely would for some time.

  “I’ve had a single boyfriend, a guy I met in high school. He was the all-American athlete, determined to perform in rodeos. Tall, muscular, and popular. I was the shy kid with overprotective parents. I was asked to help tutor him in English and we became friends. Then he asked me to my senior prom, which shocked me.”

  “It shouldn’t. You’re a beautiful woman.”

  “Not in high school.” I allowed myself to laugh. “He didn’t seem to care. We had a wonderful time that continued through the summer after my senior year. I went to a college close to home while he started the rodeo circuit and was very successful. We dated. I was certain we’d marry and have a huge family.”

  “What happened?”

  “The more famous he got, the angrier he became. The circuit was brutal, not only on his body but his mind as well. He started being more aggressive, demanding. We argued more.”

  His hold became firmer. “He became abusive.”

  “Yes. It was little things at first. Breaking a glass, punching a wall, but things escalated. I tried to push him away, but that made him angrier. After the first time he hit me, I said no more. I blocked his number and refused to see him.”

  “But he didn’t take no for an answer.”

  “No. I went back to him once, but by the end of the night, I had a black eye. By that point my older brother knew what was happening. Matt had been my protector growing up, so he took it upon himself to act like he needed to deal with it. I tried to stop him, but there was no talking to him. He was a rebel, almost landing himself in prison for beating a guy in a bar for touching his girlfriend.” I heard the ugly glitch in my voice and did everything I could to keep the tears away. I’d promised myself that I’d never cry again.

  “Baby, you don’t need to say anymore. I understand.”