AslansStranger-ARE-epub Read online

  “Are you chilly?” he asked in a whisper as he inched even closer to her mouth.

  “Not now,” she answered a moment before his lips touched hers.

  His kiss. It was a revelation. One of those moments she’d remember when her time on Earth was done and a lifetime of amazing memories flooded her head. It was that good. It was—perfect.

  He didn’t attack her mouth, biting and devouring. No. He tasted her. Sampling and nibbling her lips, slipping his tongue inside. Her moan caught her by surprise and she shivered as his hand moved to the back of her neck to hold her to him.

  “Certain you’re not cold? I can feel you shaking.” Amusement lit his eyes as he kissed her again and then stared down at her.

  “Do you really not know your appeal? You have to know what you look like. You have to know how unbelievably attractive you are.” Thank you margarita magic. Otherwise, she never would have been able to be so straightforward.

  “I’m all right.” He shrugged and then his stubbled jaw brushed her cheek as he whispered in her ear. “I much prefer your curves.” His hand moved down the back of her arm, to her waist and then lower. He moved her body into his, tucking it close so she could feel all of him. What she did to him.

  Fuck.

  He was hard.

  And she really didn’t want to wait any longer. Losing her nerve at this point was not an option. But he spoke first, taking her fate into his wide hands.

  “Since you know my kryptonite now, I have a proposal.”

  “The room keys?”

  “Pesky things. I can go down to the desk and wait to get another and then come back to get you, but I honestly don’t think I can wait that long to take you.” He moved her against him as if they were dancing, and she almost honest to God swooned from feeling how turned on he was.

  “I don’t want to wait either.” She grabbed her clutch off the bar and pulled her key card for her room, handing it over to him. “Take mine. Room 312 on the Sunrise deck.”

  He took the card, sliding it into his pocket. “On the top deck. Back of the ship. Penthouse suite. Very nice.”

  “You know the ship quite well.”

  “As I said before. Business and pleasure. It’s a working vacation of sorts.”

  “Have you gotten your money’s worth?”

  He stared at her and ran the tip of his finger over her bottom lip. “No. But I think I’m about to.” He looked at the bar, eyeing her melting beverage. “Why don’t you give me a five-minute head start and let me get in the proper—frame of mind? You can finish your drink and then follow me up. I’ll leave the door slightly open, so you can get in. Deal?”

  The idea of him in the room first, waiting for her when she arrived, totally did it for her. It sounded like something out of a romance novel. A dirty one. The only kind she read. “Negotiation first. Non-negotiable.”

  He nodded with a wicked glint to his smirk. “Again. Smart girl. Negotiation first. Then you’re mine.”

  She should think more on it, really decide if this was what she wanted to do. Seemed opening a can of worms of this variety was a monumental step in finding herself. And she couldn’t have been more ready to start. “Five minutes. Then I’ll follow you.”

  His nod made her truly notice how much bigger he was than her. He could handle her and she knew it. Her panties were completely soaked, just from talking to him and from less than a handful of kisses.

  The thought that she was about to get all of him—maybe she needed some Gatorade, instead of her tête-à-tête with Mr. Jose Cuervo.

  Zeke grabbed his sunglasses off the bar and nodded at the bartender. “One more thing, Aslan.”

  Her eyebrows rose in question, since she had no clue what he was going to say. “Yes?”

  “Ditch the panties before you get to the room. I want you bare and wet the second I can get my hands on you.”

  “The wet part’s already accomplished,” she mumbled under her breath.

  “You don’t have a clue what wet is yet.” He took a step away and eyed her from head to toe again. “But you will. Five minutes.” With one more nod in her direction, he turned and walked away.

  He definitely made a lasting impression. She stared after him as he disappeared into the crowd. Quite a few other women eyed him as he moved. How could they not? He was gorgeous.

  And she had just given him a key to the room he was going to dominate her in. After she took off her panties—because he told her to.

  Didn’t ask her to.

  Told her to.

  And she couldn’t have been hornier because of it.

  Fuck.

  She sort of sat, and sort of collapsed onto her bar stool and grabbed her drink.

  There wasn’t too much left and thankfully, it hadn’t been huge. The last thing she wanted was to be tipsy when she was with him. She wanted to remember every single moment of what was about to happen between them.

  She closed her eyes and thought about what she wanted, and how long she’d wanted it. Taking the reins, at least to start with, to get what she needed had felt amazing and empowering. She was pretty sure she could take over the world.

  But that wasn’t what she really wanted.

  She wanted to sink to her knees in front of the man making his way to her room and let everything else go.

  That was what she wanted.

  Needed.

  Ached for. For years.

  She couldn’t wait. She sucked down the rest of her drink, grabbed her clutch off the bar and giggled as she made her way out and back up the stairs. Mr. Cuervo finished her pep-talk on the way to the room, and, boy did he have a lot to say.

  The ship was huge, one of the biggest in the fleet of ships the cruise market had to offer. On the way to the elevator, she caught sight of the name of the ship. It hadn’t even dawned on her how appropriate it was.

  The Fantasy of the Seas.

  That wasn’t why she’d embarked on the trip, but it had absolutely become her main focus in the past two days as she watched Zeke from afar.

  Zeke.

  She’d looked up his name earlier in the day to see what it meant. Pathetic, she knew, but she couldn’t help herself when it came to him. Something about him drew her in and she couldn’t walk away.

  His name was Hebrew in origin. Then the site went on to describe the meaning. Strength of G-d.

  No “O”.

  Apparently, the “O” is always dropped by practicing Jews to prevent others from destroying the name of God. A fascinating occurrence she’d never seen before and her mind wandered for a few moments.

  Aslan.

  She had a boy’s name. A boy’s name from a book because her mom was so certain she was going to be a boy. When she came out a girl, her mom decided to keep the name, and it had fit her growing up. She’d been such a tomboy for the first dozen years of her life. Then she’d grown up and gotten boobs, and found the mall, and shoes and lingerie.

  Panties. Oh, fuck. Her face heated as Zeke’s instructions came back to her.

  She stopped at a restroom in the main lobby and took off the black lace garment. “Garment” was probably a misnomer. There wasn’t much actual fabric there. A small triangle and a few strings to hold it all together. Which had already been soaked, before he’d even touched her.

  Slipping the panties into her purse, as she exited the stall felt risqué and delicious and naughty and her mind blanked out.

  As she took the elevator up and made her way toward her room, the lips of her bare sex slid together.

  She tried distracting herself with more thoughts of names and meanings but then she was there, standing outside her suite. The latch at the top of the door was flipped, holding the door open an inch. The crack in the door was so much more than just an empty space.

  It was the only thing now standing between her and something she’d wanted for as long as she could remember.

  The last chain holding her to a vanilla life.

  The last empty thought, telling her w
hat she wanted was wrong.

  Less than.

  So, all she had to do was push it open.

  All she had to do was get her heart out of her throat, free her feet from where they were rooted to the floor and walk inside.

  Her stranger waited for her behind the open door.

  A tiny moan slipped free of her dry throat and she covered her mouth with her fingers.

  She could turn and run, go back to the safety in numbers she’d been raised to believe would protect her.

  But she didn’t feel safe there surrounded by normal people.

  Normal. Whatever the hell that was.

  So she was determined to find what “safe” meant for her. Being scared wasn’t going to get her there any longer.

  Her palm landed on the cold door before she remembered moving.

  Before she’d even got the heavy metal open all the way, she gasped. The sight that greeted her would be etched into her long-term memory for as long as she lived. Probably longer.

  Her stranger sat on the corner of the bed, facing the door. His torso leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His hands threaded together. Waiting for her.

  He was shirtless and the muscles rippled from his shoulders, down his chest and over his abs. His biceps stood out and jumped in time to him clasping his hands together. Over and over.

  But it wasn’t his body that made her pant. His eyes did that.

  His gaze bored into her and she felt his caress across the room. “Close the door but don’t free the latch yet.”

  She eyed him a moment longer, not wanting to look away, then closed the door. The brass plate clanged on the latch and she jumped, then faced him once more.

  He stood with his gaze locked on her.

  And then…

  Removed…

  His…

  Belt.

  Looping the leather around his hand reminded her of a boxer, wrapping his hand before a fight. The image had quite an effect on her and then he tilted his head. “Did you follow my other instructions just as perfectly?”

  Other instructions?

  Moisture coated her pussy, reminding her quite succinctly the instructions he spoke of. She flicked open the snap on her purse and pulled her panties from inside. She tossed them to him and he snatched them out of the air with his other hand. “Apparently, I’m quite good at following instructions when I have the proper—motivation.”

  Her knees shook as he lifted the black lace to his nose and inhaled.

  “Fuck, you smell good.” He took her scent into his lungs one more time and then tucked her panties into his back pocket. “Hard limits?”

  She knew he had more of a clue than he originally let on. Taking a deep breath, she tried to concentrate. She could not afford to fuck this up so she focused, hard, on what she’d already been thinking. “No blindfold. I want to see what you’re doing.”

  “Scared?”

  She stared at him, and tossed her purse on the counter beside the T.V. “Of course. Not going to stop me, though. And not the reason for wanting to see what you’re doing.” He raised an eyebrow and she smiled. “Not the only reason.”

  His teeth made a brief appearance. “What’s the other reason?”

  “You’re hot and I want to stare at you.”

  “Oh. Well. By all means. No blindfold then. What else?” He chose that moment to release the coiled leather until he held just the buckle in his fist. It looked like a whip or a leash and she nibbled her bottom lip again.

  She tried not to shrug but it weaseled its way through her attempt to appear cool, calm and collected. “The standard stuff. No kids, no animals, no waterworks, no scat.”

  He took several steps forward until he stood in front of her. And she just thought he’d looked hot across the room.

  Fuck.

  He was a work of art.

  “Someone’s been doing their homework.” He lifted her chin until she looked into his dark eyes. They seemed to swirl as if they were a reflection of the tumultuous sea beneath the balcony.

  “Yes, I have. And I don’t want to leave the suite. I’m not doing this for anyone but you and don’t want anyone else to see us.”

  “Agreed. Everything I want is in this room. Outside it has no appeal to me.” He touched her cheek, her jaw, her throat. “Last chance, Aslan. Last chance to back out.” Moving closer, he backed her up until her butt hit the door. “Because when I lock this door—game on.”

  She swallowed. Hard. And tentatively ran her shaky hands up his sides and around to his back. “I’m not going anywhere. I started this, and I want to see where it takes us.”

  Tugging her forward a half a step, he opened the door, shifted the latch out of the way and the door closed. The metal tumbler snapped into place. The dead bolt hit home in more ways than one and a nervous giggle spilled into the space between then. Then he backed up toward the bed again, leaving her there in the entryway.

  “Safeword?”

  She smiled, despite her nerves trying to get the best of her. “Mayday.”

  His chuckle warmed her. “Very nautically appropriate.”

  “I thought so.”

  “And not something you say every day?”

  She laughed. “No.”

  “Then take off your dress, and come here. Leave the heels. I’m totally going to fuck you in those shoes.”

  Her stomach dropped and filled with butterflies.

  She took a big breath and reached behind her for the zipper hidden in the back seam. Sliding the tab down relaxed the fabric at her shoulders, her ribs, waist and then her rear.

  Having a bra on afforded her a bit of coverage as she shrugged out of the top of the dress, but it was made of the same black see-through lace as the panties now taking up residence in Zeke’s back pocket.

  He could probably see more than a hint of nipple and they were tight. Aching.

  Being turned on didn’t come close to how she felt as she slipped the rest of the dress over her backside. The lacy bra, coupled with nothing on the bottom, sans her gray heels… Take about feeling vulnerable.

  “And the bra. I want to see all of you. I need it.” The muscle in his jaw bunched again.

  She almost wanted to comment on how much he had himself under control and that he didn’t need to. That she could take him. All of him. But she thought she had a better idea.

  Reaching behind her, she unhooked her bra and let it fall on top of her dress. With large, natural breasts, she knew how lucky she was that they were still high and perky. The hunger on his face made her feel like a movie star.

  “Hang up the dress so you don’t worry about it. And I want to see you. Step out of it toward me and then bend at the waist. Show me what I’m going to be using tonight.”

  Use.

  Such a dirty word, and her pussy clenched as she stepped out of the pool of red fabric and did as he instructed.

  She leaned over, baring herself to him. His rumble of approval nearly took her to her knees. There was definitely a bit of extra shimmy in her step as she put away her bra and hung up the dress. She kept expecting shame or embarrassment to hit her, since she grew up being told kink in any form was bad. Wrong.

  But it turned out they were wrong. She felt—free. For the first time in a long time, and the gorgeous man with her had a lot to do with it. He could have any woman he wanted. And he sure as heck didn’t have to say yes to her proposal. It might have taken a bit of convincing but she knew it was something he wanted. Needed, maybe?

  The fire in his eyes had been there since the first time she’d seen him.

  They were the same, him and her, and she knew it. Two sides of the same coin perhaps?

  He grabbed her by the throat and she eeped as he yanked her forward the last step. The tip of his nose touched hers and her fingernails on both hands dug into his wrist. “Hands behind your back. Breath play was not on your hard limit list.” He squeezed her throat again to emphasize his point.

  Slowly, she convinced her han
ds to relax and she put them behind her back, holding the opposite wrist so she wasn’t tempted to latch onto him again.

  “Good girl,” he praised as he relaxed his hand and replaced it with his belt.

  She sucked in a breath and a sigh slipped out.

  Good. Girl.

  Two four-letter words combined to make a whole big bowl of happy.

  “Thighs apart. I want to feel how wet you are and see if you can put your money where your mouth is.” Skepticism rolled off of his words.

  He doubted her? How much of him doubted her, she didn’t know, but he was about to be quite surprised.

  Moving her feet a bit wider, his other hand was already there, his fingers spearing through her intimate folds to find her—

  “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

  “Yes, Master—”

  “No.”

  His abrupt refusal of the word made her heart sink in her chest. He was going to call it off. Before they even got started, he was going to freak out and she’d be left wanting. Again.

  He slid a finger inside her and her eyelids closed, her head bowing in submission. Another finger joined the first, filling her, stretching her to be able to take him.

  “Master is clinical. Aloof. Remote. As if I am separate from you or above you. I don’t like any of that. Call me… Sir. It’s more—personal. Understand?”

  There he stood. Bare-chested with well-worn jeans setting off his good looks and tan. He held the end of his belt, pulling on it slightly, constricting the leather around her neck. With the edge of the leather in his hand, he tipped her head up again.

  Her eyelids fluttered as he fucked his fingers in and out of her. Slow, deep, steady. He was solely focused on her and her answer. And he was in control of both of them.

  “Yes Sir,” she happily answered. Never had two words felt so right. Fucking her with his fingers for a couple more strokes made her toes curl.

  “Mmmm… I definitely like the sound of that.” Scissoring his fingers inside her, he watched her face, not missing anything. “But when you come, you say my name.”

  She nodded, almost on the verge of coming already, but then he slowed down, pulling his fingers from her wet pussy, dragging them along her clit. He sucked them clean. One at a time and then both together. “You being turned on by me is so hot.”