Page 20 of Deep Within Me

“Enough,” Carreon said. Ernez could howl like a banshee, but that didn’t change matters. From the beginning, she’d proved the worthier opponent.

Carreon’s command had the desired effect. Even with Ernez’s fury and pain, he went quiet and retreated, his steps stiff, forced. Wariness and possibly a grudging respect for her shone in his dark eyes, along with deep loathing as he pulled out his handkerchief and struggled to wrap it around the wound.

To her, Carreon murmured, “Come here.”

She regarded Ernez’s misery, her head cocked to one side as she listened to his rough panting and watched how his hands shook. Carreon wasn’t certain if she merely needed to savor her victory over Ernez, or if she wanted to confirm to everyone in this room that she meant what she’d said. No one told her what to do.

We’ll see.

Patience wasn’t one of Carreon’s virtues. However, he waited without comment until she deigned to come to him, her slender fingers still fisted around her weapon. A bit of Ernez’s blood clung tenaciously to the blade.

Carreon settled his hand on her warm, silky mound, studying her to see what reaction she’d give.

She didn’t slice him with her knife. Neither did she betray any desire.

He wondered what she’d do if he punished her. Beg for more, enjoying the mixture of pain and pleasure? Possibly.

Fascinated, he ran his fingers down the length of her cleft then back up, finding and stroking her clit.

She inhaled a bit more quickly than she had before, though it didn’t come close to the lusty moan Carreon wanted to hear. To test her true reaction—what was really going on inside her head—he slid his fingers to her opening.

She was decidedly wet.

Interesting.And arousing.

It appeared she wasn’t made of stone any more than he was. Carreon’s already stiffened cock thickened even more. His balls were beginning to ache, wanting release.

In time.

For now, he stroked her delicate folds, harboring no delusion that his touch alone stirred her. She seemed to crave danger, just as he did. As long as someone other than him got hurt.

“Please put the knife away,” he requested, his manner nice, just as she preferred.

Her expression didn’t change as she closed the blade. Carreon noted that she kept the weapon in her palm.

To reward her for being partially obedient—full submission would come later—he again ran his thumb over her nub. A bit harder and faster this time.

She pushed to her toes then came back down, not making any sound, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing she liked what he was doing. With her face raised to the ceiling, he couldn’t see her expression.

“What’s your name?” he asked while his fingers explored her sex.

“Trinidad,” she murmured then shivered slightly. At what he was doing? Perhaps. “But you already know that,” she added.

He did. Her employment file was next to him on the sofa. She’d glanced at it as she’d moved across the office to him.

“You’re one of my strippers,” he said.

She slanted her face to regard him. “And a whore.” The corners of her exquisite mouth tilted upward with her wry smile. “It pays better than—what do they call it? Oh yeah,” she answered herself, “exotic dancing.”

The genteel term appeared to amuse her.

“You’ve been here how long?” he asked.

“Two months. But you already know that too.”

“Are your parents aware of what you do for a living?”

She chuckled, a throaty, provocative sound that excited Carreon even more. He resumed stroking her nub.