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  What did she want? To move on or to return to her old life? Did she want her freedom? Did she want peace and tranquility? What did she really want?

  She mouthed the word. Sahib.

  And Sahib wanted her, but only for the weekend. Was that enough? Was she prepared? He wanted to guide her back into sensual oblivion and quite possibly humiliate her in the process.

  Belinda awkwardly rose from the chair. She would accept whatever he offered. He could punish and humiliate her. He could give her multiple orgasms until she passed out. She would accept anything if he held her afterwards, and held her close.

  And God help her, she’d love every wicked moment of it.

  Chapter Four

  Amir hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until Belinda appeared at the door of his hotel penthouse.

  “You’re here.” He stood motionless at the threshold, staring at Belinda. She wore her hair down and the cascading silver white strands mesmerized him. Her pink sheath dress epitomized understated elegance. Her black purse and matching sling-back shoes added a hint of sophistication.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t show up?” She tilted her chin in defiance.

  “Are you saying it didn’t cross your mind?” he parried. His mouth twitched at her narrowing eyes. The tightness in his chest gave a little. He still understood her. What aroused and intrigued her. What scared and angered her.

  But he still didn’t know why she'd disappeared. And he may never find out.

  Amir pushed the thought aside. He wouldn’t think about that now. He couldn’t lose focus. He had to do this weekend right. His goal was to remind her why she needed him. If all went to plan, he would win back his woman.

  “Are you ready?” he asked as he ushered her inside.

  “Yes.”

  Amir softly closed the door and watched Belinda jump at the hushed click. “Do you have the necklace?”

  “Right here.” Belinda busied herself as she rifled through her large purse and removed a red velvet pouch. She carefully retrieved the glimmering gold jewelry.

  The special handling she gave the necklace filled him with optimism. Did she view their past and all it symbolized with that much care? He wanted to know as soon as possible, but the weekend was as much about resuming their relationship as it was about regaining his legendary control.

  Amir stepped forward and held out his hand. Belinda didn’t glance up as she laid the jewelry across his palm. Amir ignored the impulse to fist the necklace with a force that would brand the unique design into his skin.

  He gathered the delicate ends of the necklace and stepped behind Belinda. She stood meekly silent, her body humming with nervous awareness.

  “Gather your hair,” he ordered as the ritual began. The three words kicked through him because it held the same meaning as ‘open for me’.

  Amir slightly bent over her and inhaled the faint scent of Chanel No. 5. Primal needs tore at him, exposing the savage male he hid deep inside himself. He wanted to claim her in the basest way. Imprint his body on her and make certain she would never desert him again.

  Only that kind of domination was not his style. Nor her wish. The only supremacy he needed to wield was over her mind. Amir clamped down on his runaway thoughts, his unsteady fingers grazing Belinda’s neck. She flinched from the touch.

  Amir frowned. “Why are you hesitating?”

  “I’m not.” Belinda’s voice was cool, but it was also a moment late.

  He stepped away, taking the necklace with him. “Turn around and face me.”

  Belinda pivoted on her heel. Her hands were folded in front of her waist, her downcast eyes revealing nothing.

  “Do not lie to me, Noukrani. Why are you hesitating?”

  She paused and swiped her dry lips with her tongue. “It’s been a while, Sahib.”

  “Whose fault is that?” He knew it had been a while. A while didn’t begin to explain the three horrible, frustrating months.

  “I meant….” Her gaze shifted from one side of the white carpet to the other. “Since I’ve been…involved.”

  Involved? That could mean anything, and he didn’t particularly appreciate Belinda’s newfound habit of speaking in euphemisms. It clouded the communication any D/s relationship needed. “In a scene?”

  The shake of her head was barely noticeable. “Being intimate.” She cleared her throat. “I haven’t had sex with anyone since you.”

  Her admission thrilled him. He wanted to crush her against him. The need to do that was so powerful, Amir folded his arms across his chest and merely nodded his head in approval.

  Belinda lifted her gaze and stared expectedly at him through her blondish-brown lashes.

  “You wish to ask me something?” he asked gruffly.

  “Has it been a long time for you as well?”

  His fingers dug grooves in his white dress shirt. He wanted to fall on his knees and thank Allah for the gift of her concern. Amir raised his eyebrow in what he hoped was an aloof manner. “Is this your way of asking if I’ve found your replacement?”

  Belinda looked away. “Yes, I guess it is.”

  “You are difficult to replace.” He waited a beat. “But not impossible.”

  She frowned at his cryptic statement.

  “A warning, Noukrani. Lie to me again and I will postpone this meeting.” He reached out and grasped her chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Understand?”

  She looked directly into his eyes. “Yes.”

  * * * * *

  Belinda’s responses jumped to attention as Amir wrapped the gold choker around her throat. She tried to control her choppy breathing, hoping that would be a calming effect to her quickening pulse. The sharp inhale only made her more aware of Amir’s closeness. The musky sandalwood scent barely clung to his skin, but it still packed a wallop.

  His arm brushed against her back. The fine hair at her nape stood at attention as he deftly closed the intricate clasp.

  The metallic snap was probably tinny, but it sounded deep and loud to Belinda. Like a symbolic bong. Now she was no longer Belinda Hathaway. She was Noukrani, a female servant.

  She gladly shed the real persona, even if it were for only a brief interlude. She wanted Sahib to make the decisions. Have Sahib take control, push and stretch her boundaries and then carefully guide her back to reality.

  The only problem was Belinda wanted more than interludes. She wanted Amir in all aspects of her life, yet she didn’t want to relinquish her identity and control.

  “Face me, Noukrani.”

  Belinda shivered. He said the pet name in such a way that her spine turned to jelly. She turned to face him in the classic subservient pose of downcast face and folded hands.

  Sahib cupped her face with both hands. His thumb glided across her cheeks. Belinda remained still although she wanted to respond to his warmth. He threaded his hands through her hair. He appeared fascinated by the silver blonde locks, as if he was seeing it for the first time.

  His hands twisted sharply in her hair. Belinda winced at the delicious pull. She opened her mouth murmuring just as Sahib yanked her forward, reclaiming her with a kiss.

  His kiss was coarse but thorough. The lack of finesse worried her. Sahib was always in control. Of her. Of him. Of the situation. Always.

  Sahib probed relentlessly past her lips. He didn’t indulge in seductive nibbles or coaxing flicks of his tongue. He plunged and conquered.

  She was being consumed.

  Belinda opened her mouth wider as the overwhelming sensation fed some deep-seated pleasure. She needed to be taken so completely like she needed the next beat of her heart. Fear skittered through her veins, not from Sahib or the situation, but by the need to not exist on her own.

  Sahib tugged his hands out of her hair and gathered her closer. She felt surrounded by heat. The heat made her apart of him. She nestled closer while her mind warned her to make a fire to compete with Sahib.

  His palms roughly made their way to the gentle slope of
her hips. He gripped her buttocks and pressed her even closer. His long, blunt fingers bruised her as his hard erection ground against her soft mound. Belinda throbbed for his invasion, but would she become a part of him or he a part of her? Is that why she wanted him to fill her? So she could claim him?

  Sahib pulled his mouth from hers. His brown eyes glittered with dark, swirling passion. “Lie down,” he ordered softly. His hoarse voice blurred his words.

  Belinda looked for the bedroom door.

  “No, Noukrani.” His tone was almost indulgent. “Lie down on the floor.”

  The floor? “Here?”

  Sahib gave a brief nod.

  She knelt down. What was he doing? Sahib was all for refinement and discipline, but he did it in sybaritic luxury, not with rug burn marring his knees.

  She stretched back onto the floor, her arms close to her sides. Sahib towered over her. She was keenly aware of the crackling powerful aura.

  He knelt at her feet which were still clad in black heels. She felt ridiculous being fully dressed while lying on the floor, but she didn’t want to remove her clothes. The floor already stripped her of any imagined power.

  “Stretch out your arms.”

  She did, her arms spread out like wings. The position made her feel more vulnerable. She had a sense of what those virgin sacrifices felt like as they awaited their fate in front of some dark underworld god.

  Sahib hovered above her. He grasped her shaking knees with sure hands and pushed them apart. Belinda dropped her head back and sighed as he nestled deep into the V between her legs. It was like a homecoming.

  A homecoming her spirit still fought. While her legs craved to wrap around his lean waist, her muscles shook with restraint. She wanted to fling her arms across his shoulders, but her brain warned that the motion would be too telling. She knew she wouldn’t do it anyway simply because Sahib didn’t ask for it.

  He took advantage of her position. He kneaded her breasts with his hands. She closed her eyes as the friction of her bra scratched her breasts. Her dress tightened and twisted against her abdomen. She felt imprisoned from her clothing, but at the same time protected from his all-too-knowing eyes.

  Belinda’s breath caught in her throat as Sahib replaced his hand with his mouth. The cloth barrier didn’t diminish the wet heat as he gave her breasts open mouth kisses.

  Sahib began to suck. Belinda arched her back off the floor. The pull of his mouth yanked at her inner core.

  “No, Noukrani,” he murmured against her curves. “Stay on the floor.”

  “I – I…” There was no way. Her body would splinter if she didn’t move with the rollicking pleasure.

  “I’m aware your breasts are extremely sensitive,” he added in a mocking tone, “but you must demonstrate some control.”

  Belinda slid back down onto the floor. Her fingers raked into the plush carpeting as Sahib continued taunting her with his tongue.

  Her nipples bloomed and then tightened under the sensual humid heat. She writhed against Sahib, desperately trying not to leave the floor.

  She sighed with a mix of relief and regret as he slithered down her stomach, his mouth dragging against her dress. Sahib’s fingers drifted to the moist juncture of her thighs. He rubbed the swollen flesh through her bunched up skirt and pale pink undies. Belinda flexed her knees, allowing him more access.

  Sahib’s journey to her inner thighs was unbearable slow. All of Belinda’s nerve endings pulsed for attention in the secretive cleft.

  Touch me there, her mind screamed. Oh, please touch me there. Kiss me, tongue me, fuck me. I don’t care, just touch me there!

  He mouthed her cotton-clad mound. She bucked and he clamped her thighs with strong hands.

  She waited for his next move, panting and impatient, when the events crystallized in her chaotic mind. Sahib was stripping away her clothing without removing a scrap of fabric. Her barriers were meaningless against him.

  The knowledge unarmed her. The sophisticated image no longer shielded her true self. Her shallow breathing echoed in her head. His hot breath wafted over her sex.

  He pushed his tongue into her through the gossamer thin underwear. Belinda’s legs spasmed.

  She gasped from his audacious touch. “Sahib!” He proved once again that she could not hide her nakedness from him.

  Sahib continued. Quick, hard jabs of his tongue. She fought not to press into his face. Belinda was wet, incredibly wet. She scooted closer to him, chanting for more as his hands dug into the soft pale flesh of her legs.

  Her hips swiveled to the age-old rhythm. He exposed her and her needs. There was no use to hide. She rode his mouth, reveling in his sexy, appreciative growls. She felt the impeding orgasm gathering in her swollen nether lips.

  “Oh…please, Sahib.”

  “Please, what?” His voice vibrated against her engorged flesh. Pleasure wracked her pelvis.

  “P-please, I want to come.” Her request sounded like a whimper.

  He burrowed his face deep inside her. “Come for me, Noukrani.”

  Her orgasm shot through her legs and clenched her womb. She thrashed against his mouth, surrendering to the star-filled energy as Sahib held her in his strong, intimate embrace.

  * * * * *

  Belinda stared at the unfamiliar ceiling and stirred, realizing she was still on the hotel carpet. Plush or not, the carpeting rubbed her arms with the same finesse as sandpaper. She gingerly removed her arms from the floor and glanced around. Sahib stood in front of her and silently offered his hand.

  She automatically accepted his assistance, the direct touch of skin on skin startling her. The second thought coursing through Belinda’s head was Sahib’s lack of arousal. He hadn’t stripped and covered her body with his. He didn’t enter her or require to be serviced.

  She quietly studied his face. His features still held the intense and determined expression. The redden undertone of his complexion was the only clue that he found their session stimulating.

  “The bedroom and bath are behind those doors,” he said, indicating the doors with the tilt of his head. He walked to the wet bar by the table and chairs.

  Belinda stumbled into the bedroom, rattled by the change of procedure. Why didn’t he demand pleasure? Didn’t he want her anymore?

  Or was this a new brand of punishment? To show indifference after a few D/s scenes? If so, it was working beautifully. Before arriving at the hotel, she had a moment of panic at the possibility of humiliation during the weekend. Although sadomasochism never entered their relationship before, Sahib wasn’t the type to allow wayward servants go unpunished. He would find a way to exact retribution. Obviously he found a more effective way than having her crawl on her hands and knees as he first threatened.

  Well, the weekend had just begun. Who knew what Sahib wanted? She could handle the possible physical humiliation. It was a matter of gaining a mental distance from the situation. But she couldn’t stop from feeling hurt by his lack of sexual interest.

  Granted, she knew of D/s couples who didn’t have sexual contact. They found the mental challenge more erotic than an intimate touch. Belinda could understand the allure, but it’s not what she wanted with Sahib. It’s not what she could settle for, especially since the only power she had over Sahib was sexual.

  “Noukrani.”

  The low grumble compelled her to the bedroom door, but no further. Sahib leaned against the wall, his dark trousers and white dress shirt barely wrinkled. He stared out the large window that was tucked away in a mini-alcove, hidden behind brocade curtains. He seemed deep in thought as he nursed a glass tumbler filled with clear liquid.

  Belinda tilted her chin up. “Yes, Sahib?”

  He glanced at her and then gazed out the window. The brief look heated her through. “You’ve been a part of the D/s community before you met me.” He made the statement in a casual drawl, prickling Belinda’s instincts.

  “Yes.” The answer was simple, complete but cautious. If there was one thing
she learned, she never gave too much or too little information regarding her previous D/s experiences.

  Sahib swirled the liquid in his glass. “How many relationships?”

  Belinda hesitated. She really didn’t want to get into the conversation. “Three.”

  “You’ve had three masters?”

  Damn. She had to be truthful. “Two masters. One sub.”

  He flashed a speaking glance.

  “I explored domination at first,” she explained. “I wasn’t a natural.”

  “That must have been a shock to you,” he said in a mocking tone. “A businesswoman – a feminist – not a natural dominant.”

  Belinda’s chin tilted a little higher. “I no longer question or feel shame about what I crave, if that is what you are insinuating.”

  “Then why the secrecy?”

  “It makes my life simpler.”

  Sahib held her steady with his piercing eyes. “Noukrani, remember my warning.” His voice held no indulgence or mocking. It was firm and only the stupid would challenge it.

  Belinda folded her hands in front of her waist, trying to appear at ease, but her legs shifted side to side in anticipation to bolt. “I prefer discretion and privacy. I don’t think my sex life is anyone’s business.” She hoped he’d catch the hint.

  “Discretion and privacy.” He savored the words like the first sip of a vintage wine. “Yes, I think you crave that more than anything.”

  “Yes, Sahib.” Belinda wanted to walk away. She didn’t like this analysis. He was right – she did crave privacy in all areas of her life. So what? There was nothing wrong with that.

  Sahib’s eyes flickered again on her figure before he looked out the window again. “Go take a nap, Noukrani.”

  She froze. That sounded like a dismissal. She wanted to question it. Debate it. But she knew the rules.

  “Yes, Sahib.”

  Chapter Five