The Dom Who Loved Me (Masters and Mercenaries #1)(67)

Sean turned to her. “You’re manipulating me again.”

Grace pulled at the leather belt, but there was no give to it. “Again? Me, manipulating you? I think it’s the other way around, Sean.”

“No?” He pulled off his own shirt, much calmer now than he had been before. “You’re angry about my deception. You’re angry I caught you. You want to get me just as pissed as you so I’ll take you without any kindness, and then you can hate me.”

“What makes you think I don’t hate you already?” She deeply feared she didn’t. Maybe she was trying to do exactly what he said.

“Well, your defense of my person, for starters. Then there’s the fact that we’re here. You might be angry, but you know this is between the two of us. There’s no place for anyone else in this relationship.” He picked up the towel, and she held back a sigh as he started to rub her body with it. He began with her outstretched hands.

“We don’t have a relationship, Sean. We have a bunch of lies you told me.”

His hands moved the thick towel across her in a sensual glide. He paid close attention to her breasts. The lush towel moved over and around first one, and then the other. When he was through, every inch of her breasts felt sensitized.

“Really? Besides my name and my vocation, what lies have I told you?”

Her skin tingled as he moved down. The chill was gone, replaced with a slow heat. He got to his knees, still in the stiff denim he was wearing. He paused at the apex of her thighs. Grace bit back a groan as he gently patted down her * and went to work on her legs. She had to stay in control. It would have been so much easier if he’d just stayed pissed off. “You said you cared about me.”

“Not a lie, little one.”

She didn’t buy it, but it had been easier to completely disregard that he was anything but a liar when they were fighting. Now he was at her feet, wrapping them one by one in his hands. He was still soaked to the bone, but she was getting warm and dry. “I don’t believe you. You’re just saying that because you want to control me during this interview thing.”

Sean got up from his knees, his hands going to the fly of his jeans. Grace couldn’t help but notice the way his big cock was already tenting the denim. She ached to touch him. She was suddenly very glad her hands were tied above her head. Sean pushed the soaked jeans over his hips and briskly dried off his magnificent body. He seemed infinitely more comfortable since he’d walked into this room. He was at home in the dungeon. He was back to being a Dom.

He invaded her space. His naked body pressed against hers, the connection humming all along her skin.

“I’m doing this to protect you.” His hand trailed from her neck down to her straining nipples. “I’m going to get you out of this, Grace. Trust me.”

Trust him? Tears filled her eyes. “How can you ask me to do that when you don’t trust me at all?”

His bright blue eyes became hooded. “This is neither the time nor the place for this. We’ll get to the evidence against you soon enough. Now I need something, and I know you do, too.” His erection prodded her belly.

Grace pushed against him as much as the restraints allowed her. “I need you to leave me alone.”

He sighed heavily. His hand touched her neck, tracing the line where her necklace used to lay. “That’s the last thing you need.”

“Don’t tell me what I need.” He was frustrating her to no end. She brought a foot up to kick at him, anything to get him as out of control as she felt. She didn’t even make contact. His hand shot out to catch her.

“Don’t try it again. I’m being patient. At the next infraction, I get out the crop, Grace.”

His calm voice did her in. She was a roiling mass of emotion, and he was perfectly calm. It wasn’t anywhere close to fair. She kicked out, finally catching his leg. He stepped easily back and disappeared from sight.

“Get back here and fight with me,” Grace snarled. It sounded like he was opening drawers. She knew exactly what he was looking for and part of her was so grateful for it.

“I don’t want to fight with you.” His words were clipped as though he was losing some of that patience of his. “Damn it. Apologize or use your safeword. Otherwise, it’s a count of twenty, sub.” He held a crop in his hands. Grace stared at it. It was roughly the length of Sean’s forearm and the tip looked like soft leather. What would it feel like?

He brought her head up, his fingers gentle against her chin. His eyes held hers for a moment. “I don’t want to do this. I would rather take you down, unbind your hands, and make love to you.”

He wanted to make love to a woman he believed capable of all manner of crimes? He hadn’t even laid out what he wanted to accuse her of, but he wanted her to lie back and welcome him into her body? She wanted him, but not like that. This was the end. She wouldn’t touch him after this session, and she wanted none of his tenderness. “I hate you.”

His eyes closed momentarily as though the words brought him pain. He was a spectacular actor, but then she already knew that. “If this is what you need…count of twenty, sub.”

The crop came down across her ass in an arc of flame, licking her skin, making her gasp. Her skin burned, and then the heat sank in.

“I need a count, Grace.” His words were heavy, weary even.