The Dani Collins Erotic Romance Collection: Mastering Her RolePlaying the Master Page 2

  She put down the dishes with a clatter and another little sigh.

  “I don’t think these inhibitions of yours are so monumental, Arianne.” He stroked one knuckle on her bare arm, up to the ruffled cap sleeve of her blouse. “Let’s talk them out. I’ll be honest with you, you know that.”

  “And then you’d know what a neophyte I am! I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of you like that. Our friendship would suffer. I value this, you know.” She nodded at the table in disarray with abandoned silver and the pepper mill knocked on its side. She set it upright again. “I can’t risk losing it.”

  “Surely I deserve better than a Can’t We Just Be Friends brush-off?”

  “That wasn’t— You just won’t understand, will you?”

  Her skin pimpled under his touch and he soothed away the bumps; she felt the heat rising beneath her skin. His shy little sensuality artist. “Explain it to me. Help me understand, because if you won’t allow someone you know and trust to help you, then I can’t fathom what’s driving you.”

  Her head dipped, and he felt little shivers chase over her skin again.

  “I—” She waved modestly at the table. “This is a celebration. I’ve been the top agent twelve months running. I received a bonus. A cruise.”

  “Well, that’s wonderful, isn’t it?” He opened his hand on the softness of her upper arm. Women’s skin was always soft, but Arianne’s compelled him to pet and stroke unceasingly. If only she would let him, if only— But he was supposed to be listening. Giving her the admiration she rightly deserved. “I’m not surprised but I’m very proud. Well done, beautiful.” He touched his lips to her skin for the first time, a light press at her temple that made her breath stall. Want surged through him.

  “For two,” she added after a moment of significant silence. She kept her chin tucked. “I leave in a week.”

  He used a gentle touch to tilt her face up to his. “Two?”

  “It’s a cruise for two. At first I thought I’d take a girlfriend, perhaps Ella from the office. But there would be politics, and on the boat she’d be intent on cutting one of those sexual swaths you talked about. Essentially I’d be cruising alone. Then I considered trying something like that myself, but aside from the fact I’m hopelessly ill equipped, I’m built for relationships.” She shrugged awkwardly. “It’s just who I am. I’d rather invite a man to share the cruise with me. I even had someone in mind—”

  “I beg your pardon?” His hand firmed involuntarily on her jaw.

  “There is a man to whom I am attracted,” she said, lashes lowered in uncertainty. “I would like to invite him on this cruise, but I can’t. Not if I’m going to ruin everything by being some kind of sexual introvert.”

  “Who is he?” he demanded. He was jealous, he realized. Insane with it.

  She pulled away and bent to blow out the candles. “Do I ask you the names of the women you pursue?”

  There was only one: Arianne. She’d been in his thoughts for eleven months. Over a year, if he wanted to be honest, but he didn’t want to be that honest. She might guess the rest, and he dreaded that.

  “The problem is, if this man shares my bed, he’ll find out what a dud I am—”

  “Stop talking about yourself like that.”

  “It’s true! I don’t know what I’m doing there. I don’t even know why other people are so keen to test the limits of what can be done there. I don’t want to be this ignorant, Jason! I want to know how to satisfy a man in bed.”

  “Fine. Invite me.”

  She cocked her head at him as though he was suggesting something completely outrageous. “Right. How would that work? You’d bring me up to speed then release me into the world after the cruise? Then what? We continue our cozy dinners with that between us?”

  “It could be the beginning of a relationship,” he said through clenched teeth, kicking himself for being too cautious with her this past year if she couldn’t foresee such a possibility. She could forget this other man to whom she was attracted.

  “And when you found out what a dead fish I am, you’d be outta there, and how in the world would I ever sit across a table from you again? No, I’d rather spend a week taking lessons from someone I’ll never have to face again.”

  She didn’t know who Dominic was. She couldn’t. Either that or she knew everything and was punishing him. Thoroughly.

  Deep down, he didn’t care one way or another. There was an iniquitous part of him exploding with excitement thinking of her with Dominic. She’d test the hell out of him. It was beyond exciting to consider. His entire body coiled with anticipation.

  At the same time, the velvet of an ocean-scented breeze swirled around him, but it wasn’t warm enough to quell the icy tendrils of guilt wrapping around him.

  “But I do need someone I can trust, and you trust him, right? I mean, you trusted him with Celine, didn’t you?”

  “I indulged her desire for him. They had a history,” he said reluctantly.

  “So I could trust him, too. Otherwise I’ll have to find someone else—”

  “Are you truly going to be that stubborn about this? You’ll put an ad in the classifieds or something unless I arrange this?”

  “Well, there is that guy at work who seems to know his way around the bedroom, but I don’t really want—”

  “Neither do I,” he cut in, flaring his nostrils to take a deep, calming breath. “But I think you’re being foolish. If this man you are so attracted to calls himself a man, he would find your natural innocence as charming as I do.”

  “I don’t want to be innocent! I want to be passionate.”

  “You’re highly passionate. You once lectured me for half an hour on recycling.”

  “That’s not what I mean and you know it. Every time I think about sex, a little voice inside me says, ‘But that’s not me.’ When a guy asks me on a date, I freeze up, terrified because he’ll expect me to be something I’m not. I’m curious, but the internet is just words. It’s not real. I want to feel what it’s like, learn things I didn’t know were possible. Orgasm, okay?”

  “I can give you that.” Frustration drove him to slip the leash on his control. He pulled her against him, taking a chance and letting her feel the hardness of his throbbing wood against her stomach. “How do you want it? A long, slow buildup, then a hard push over the edge? What do you want me to use? My dick or my tongue? Fingers? All of the above until you can’t speak?”

  “Jason.” She sounded breathless. Her hands pressed against his chest in resistance, but he held her close enough to feel her heart racing.

  “Because that’s what Dominic will do. Do you understand that? He’ll run his tongue between your legs and ask you to suck his fingers and cock. He’ll expect freedoms for every lascivious pleasure he can conjure. He’ll fuck you. Often. As fast or slow or hard as your pussy can stand. Are you prepared for that?” The images blew his mind and tightened his grip on her arms.

  “No,” she breathed. “But that’s the point, isn’t it? I should be.”

  He could sense the contradiction in her, the opposition of her arms, straining for release, yet the faint scent of physical excitement rising off her skin. He suffered a similar incongruity in himself. He was drowning in such possessiveness that he wanted to overcome her protests and seduce her right here and now.

  Arianne wasn’t with him, though. She was biting her lip, her sexual confidence balanced on a knife’s edge as she waited for his decision.

  The blade of guilt in his chest gave a few twists. He knew why she carried some insecurity, and if she needed to hear from a stranger that she was sexy as hell, he should arrange it. Hell, Dominic had enough control to bolster her without touching her, then point her in the direction she ought to be looking: right here.

  Or was that a bullshit rationalization? He didn’t let himself overthink it. It was only one meeting.

  “If you insist,” he growled reluctantly, “I’ll arrange an introduction.”

  “I
do,” she said firmly. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Two

  On the telephone he had sounded like Jason with a British accent. More or less.

  The relationship between the two men was something of a mystery. She’d pressed Celine after the woman said with haughty amusement, I thought he would have introduced you to Dominic by now. But she’d only received a smirk in response.

  Arianne wondered how much he’d be like Jason as she stood outside the hotel-room door. Until Jason had yanked her into his arms and spoken so explicitly, she’d only suspected what kind of man lurked beneath his quiet exterior. The idea of giving herself over to someone like that made her breath stutter, urging her to back out of this crazy stunt and retreat down the hall.

  It didn’t matter how desperately she wanted Jason. He was a man who enjoyed highly sophisticated sex play. She’d never reach his level. This was—

  The door opened.

  The man who filled the open frame wore black from silk shirt to snug leather pants tucked into tall, well-worn boots that reminded her of Jason’s. She couldn’t be sure of his identity by looking at his hands or face. He wore leather gloves and a silky kerchief thing, cut with eyeholes. It hid the upper half of his face and hair, like a pirate.

  Below the mask was a blond goatee. Jason’s hair was dark as a raven’s wing. This man was about as tall as Jason, but Jason had green eyes, while the ones staring at her were brown.

  Stop comparing him to Jason, she scolded herself. He looked like the kind of man who wouldn’t put up with that sort of divided attention.

  “Too timid to knock? Come in,” he said in that subtle accent, so crisp with authority. He braced the door with a straight elbow, remaining in the space so she would have to duck beneath his arm and brush his body to get by.

  Her purse felt slippery in her grip, and she was pretty sure she was going to faint.

  When she hesitated, he said, “Would it help to know I don’t intend to touch you? You wanted to meet me, so we’ll talk.”

  She managed to swallow and nod then pressed through the tiny opening, feeling the brush of soft silk against her bare shoulder. She hadn’t known what to wear and settled on this lacy little sundress. It was too virginal, she realized. It screamed of inexperience. Timid. Newbie.

  But she was here now, looking around the elegant suite. This was a chic boutique hotel, and he’d booked them into one of the best rooms, a suite on an upper floor. It had a lounge area, a small bar and a door to the left that would be the bathroom. The bed sat on a platform three stairs up, next to the hollow of a three-sided window alcove. Across the foot of the ornate king-size bed draped a fringed, peacock-blue sheet. A footstool, also ornately carved and upholstered in red velvet, stood beside the bed next to a discreet black suitcase.

  Wondering what the case might contain made her abdomen tense. She jerked her gaze to the drawn sheers, which over the window that allowed some of the afternoon sun to penetrate, bringing a glow to the polished wood detailing above the empty fireplace. The room was comfortably warm. The air-conditioning, off. No hum. No music, either, just silence as he waited behind her.

  She knew she ought to turn to face him, but it was easier to continue studying the room. In one corner stood a screen, black, with an inlay of tile chips. Perhaps it belonged to him, since mosaic nudes in Kama Sutra poses decorated it. Something red hung over the top of it. The rest of the furniture appeared to be hotel issue. Lovely, but not provocative—not like that screen or the suitcase.

  “I said I wouldn’t touch you but I have a custom, Arianne. People who play sexual games need signals between them to express readiness to begin and closure at the end. It builds trust. You will kiss me now and again when you leave.”

  Was he kidding?

  She pivoted slowly, trying to find something reassuring in the cut of his jawline, but he was pure wickedness, lounging so negligently beside the door. She didn’t think she could do it.

  “I was under the impression you wanted to reset the boundaries you’ve placed on your sexuality. Have you changed your mind?” His hand was still on the doorknob and he twisted it enough for her to hear the click.

  Reasoning that she would have to cross the room to kiss or escape, she did that much on legs that felt numb, not certain until she reached him which option she would choose. Then she was eye level with his lips, their shape a close match to the ones she’d memorized over dinners and drinks.

  Brothers, she fleetingly thought, or maybe cousins. At the same time, she was surprised how badly she wanted to kiss him, regardless of who he was. His mouth looked so carnal and masculine. And it was only a kiss. She couldn’t screw that up.

  Like taking a leap off the high board, she gathered her courage, held her breath and stepped closer. Lifting slightly in her low sandals, she pressed her lips to his with gentle pressure. His mouth was warm and firm with a faint prickle from the goatee. Closing her eyes as an unexpected shiver of pleasure tickled down her spine, she lingered for an extra second to examine it, then scolded herself for acting so slutty.

  She dropped onto her heels.

  When she opened her eyes, she saw one corner of his mouth curled up in amusement. “Do I bear a strong resemblance to one of your maiden aunts? Kiss me properly, Arianne.”

  Horrified, she looked at his hand on the doorknob, but he released it. The heavy hotel lock clicked into place. He raised his gloved hand to her chin, tilted up her face and lowered his head so his mouth covered hers in a slanting possession.

  Hot, damp and thorough. She hadn’t expected that, but oh, when he flicked his tongue into her mouth, it sent a lightning bolt all the way to her center.

  He drew back slowly, his gloved fingers caressing her throat. “Hello, Arianne. I’m Dominic. It’s lovely to meet you. Do you speak at all?”

  “Of course.” She spoke to the middle of his chest. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “Is it? We’ll see. If you don’t kiss me on your way out the way I just kissed you, I’ll know for sure.” He walked past her into the room. “I prefer you to wear what I give you. Try on the red dress behind the screen.”

  “I—” Undress? That was quite an icebreaker.

  “You…?” he prompted.

  “I thought you wanted to talk.”

  “I thought you wanted to explore your sexuality.”

  She could change or she could leave. He offered the choice with silent patience.

  Ignoring how crazy this was, she ducked behind the screen.

  A small table stood behind it. It had a drawer but she didn’t snoop within it, just set her purse on top. The mirrors on the inside walls of the screen startled her but turned out to be useful once she got the dress on.

  The fabric felt like air in her hands, a silk knit that weighed nothing and clung like a second skin, hiding not one single flaw. Her breasts almost fell out the top and she couldn’t seem to tug it more than an inch below the cheeks of her backside. Did he really expect her to parade these thighs of hers before him? And the panty lines? Ugh.

  “It’s too small,” she said from behind the screen.

  “Let me see.”

  Blushing furiously, she stepped out just far enough to catch a glimpse of him with her peripheral vision. He was rearranging furniture.

  “It’s fine,” he said, “but did I give you the bra and underwear?”

  “No.”

  “Then take them off.”

  “You’re not serious.”

  “Do you feel desirable right now, Arianne?”

  “No.”

  “Then take them off.”

  She did and eyed the result. Her breasts didn’t sit as high and they moved around a lot more, but the fabric was so insubstantial her nipples stood out like pencil erasers. Without her panties, her hips had a smooth curve to them, which she had to admit was more attractive, but the skirt was still too short.

  “Let me see,” he said again.

  It was just as difficult to step beyond the priva
cy of the screen. She didn’t feel as unappealing, but she felt incredibly exposed.

  He had created a large space in the center of the room and placed the stool there. As she revealed herself, he floated the blue sheet over the stool so it became a bump in an island of blue.

  “Come. All the way. Here is your space, here is mine.” He pointed at the square. “Stand here a moment so I might admire.”

  Cringing every step, she started forward.

  “Why are you wearing your sandals?”

  She kicked them off and continued until she felt the cool, slippery fabric of the blue sheet beneath her feet.

  “You forgot your posture at home?”

  Looking at the ceiling, she straightened her spine, tugging at the hem of the skirt when she felt it climb.

  “Ah. Better with the hands at the sides.” He paced the edges of the sheet, examining her from all sides. “How do you feel?” he asked in a lowered tone.

  “Stupid. Ridiculous. Inadequate. Like I’m trying to be something I’m not.”

  “Those are emotions. Tell me what you feel physically. Is there relief from removing your bra?”

  “Yes.” She felt much more comfortable actually.

  “Are you cold?”

  Her nipples. She clenched her eyes shut. “They just do that. I don’t know why.”

  “What does what?”

  “My—” She waved a hand in front of her chest. “They just poke out that way. They always have, even before I really had anything up there.”

  “Your nipples.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re not cold?”

  “Not when I’m blushing this hard, no.” Honestly, he was certainly as pigheaded and demanding as Jason.

  “What about your legs? Why do you keep pulling on the dress like that? You’ll tear it.”

  She smoothed it with her hands instead. “It’s too short.”

  “So you’re self-conscious, but not cold. What else do you feel? Physically?”

  “I don’t know. The sheet is soft under my feet.” She curled her toes into it. “My hair is soft on my shoulders.”