Finally, Yours by Elizabeth SaFleur

 

He stepped backward and looked at his watch. “I’ve got one hour.” He must be half crazed out of his mind to do anything with this woman. But the enigmatic story of Dana Moore gnawed at his insides. No bars enslaved a man more than the unknown—and Jackson Reese didn’t do mystery. Add the injustice of her situation and Jackson found himself compelled to help her.

She straightened. “One night.”

“One hour.” He grasped her chin and lowered it. “No sex. Non-negotiable. And you’ll do what I say.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?”

He huffed a half laugh, willing to let her indulge in bravado a bit longer. Then he walked over to the conference room door and clicked the lock.

“Dana, what is your maiden name?”

“Strickland. Why?”

“That’s your safeword.” He unbuttoned his jacket. “I presume you know what that is.”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now go to the end of the room.”

“Being punished already?”

Jesus. This woman. “No games, Dana.”

“So serious, Mr. Reese.” She uncharacteristically wobbled a little as she walked. She was scared. Okay, she didn’t like mystery, either. Tough.

“Take off your dress.” He shucked his jacket, hung it on the back of a chair. “The color does nothing for you. Drop it on the floor. Yes, Dana, you likely have ten others like it at home.”

As she shed her god-awful dress, she revealed a beautiful lingerie set, including garter belt and stockings. Unexpected, but welcomed.

He undid one cufflink. “You came prepared.”

Her skin flushed a deep crimson.

“Turn and look at me.” He removed his other cufflink.

She pivoted and immediately crossed her arms over her ample breasts captured in a surprisingly feminine bra. White lace. Yes, very nice.

“Don’t hide yourself. Show me what you chose to wear for me.” After she lowered her arms to her side, he cocked his head and looked. Really looked. How could no one admire this woman? Jackson appreciated any woman who kept herself in such fine form as Dana. The mystery deepened.

“Take down your hair.”

After shaking her bun free, her long brunette hair reflected flashes of ambient city lights streaming in from the long wall of windows.

“You should wear your hair down more.”

She huffed. “I’m not sixteen anymore.”

“Thank God.” After clicking off the lights, he rolled his shirt sleeves to bare his wrists. He removed his watch, each movement deliberate and slow. Dana’s face grew paler with each action.

He had pledged himself to uphold all the laws of safe, sane and consensual play, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t let a little intimidation create the right mood. Dana wanted to try on submission. Well, he’d use all means at his disposal to have her feel that loss of control.

He stood at the head of the table and laid his hands on the smooth surface.

“Get on the table. Hands and knees.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

“That’s the last time you’ll argue with me.” He straightened.