Holly loves her job as a private nurse, but the ill and injured offer little chance to explore her secret longings, especially not for a submissive seeking a master worth risking her heart. When she braves the exclusive La Ceinture Noire, a mysterious dom takes charge of her. She never sees his face, but she’ll never forget his powerful mastery.
Demon hunter, Colin avoids the sweetly submissive nurse next door because she doesn’t deserve to be drawn into his nightmare world. No one does. All he has to offer her is pain and heartbreak. He damn near hurts himself by tripping over his own tongue when he spots her in red lace lingerie at the club. After a too brief interlude with the enchanting little slave, he comes to his senses, and alters her memory of their encounter before leaving. There’s more to Holly than he suspects. For openers, she’s immune to his mind games. He can’t erase her memories without serious damage and he can’t bear to hurt her. The more she learns about him, the greater her jeopardy. How can he keep her safe?
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Colin tied the ribbon Diane had given him around Holly’s slender throat. The thin line of color marked her as taken — his.He loved how her lips were wet and swollen from his kiss. He loved the way she responded to him with total, helpless, surprised, submission. He loved how her abundant curves felt against his raw needs. And he hated not being able to read her. Touching hadn’t made even a crack in her impenetrable thought shield. He also hated being wrong.
In addition to not being able to read a single idea in her beautiful head, he had new problems. Her mouth was an oasis of pleasure in his barren life. Her silken tongue carried a seductive flavor of hot cocoa with a touch of cool mint. He should never have tasted her sweetness. Now it would be twice as hard to maintain his distance. But he had to; there was too much at stake, including her life.
Absently, he stroked the soft, soft skin over her delicate collarbone just below his mark of ownership. Then he watched her pulse at the base of her throat, entranced by the way it fluttered in response to his touch. What he should do was untie the ribbon, then escort her to the holding pen until the slave auction.
Yeah, sure. Not happening. He couldn’t stop touching her. Forget about putting her on the auction block for some other Dom to claim. She was completely untrained. Someone else might be impatient, too harsh, or… Not happening, no way, no how. The whole argument was moot. For now she belonged to him, and he wasn’t strong enough to forgo this chance to play. He was keeping her for tonight.
He’d agreed to do a teaching scene before the auction. Originally, he’d intended to work with hot wax or maybe a bullwhip — always a crowd favorite. But the idea of marring Holly’s perfect skin, even temporarily, sickened him. Learning her limits and how she responded to pain was part of being her Master, but he sure as hell wasn’t tossing her into an extreme scene with no idea how she’d react.
He let his thumb drift lower, grazing the top curve of her deep cleavage. And lower still, until he skimmed the edge of the lace cups. Through the stretched lace, he watched her nipples darken and pucker even tighter. He teased her swollen tips with a brush of his thumbs, and the thin material peaked over the stiffened points. “Tell me what you want, baby.”
Her breath caught with a little hitch. “A kiss, Sir.”
Damn, she got to him. His cock lengthened and hardened further until it was a pleasurable heavy ache pinned by his slacks against his thigh. He unbuttoned his jacket and leaned closer, crowding her — letting her softness cradle his raw hunger.
“Where?” The single-word question grated out like he’d swallowed a load of gravel.
Another ragged breath bumped her lush breasts against the starched front of his dress shirt, adding fresh heat to his fever.
Only the fact that they were in a public place, and he was fairly certain he wouldn’t stop at kissing, kept him from stripping off the bits of lace and taking her up on that offer. But he couldn’t resist probing her mind for lascivious images. There weren’t any. More accurately, there weren’t any he could access. He concentrated and tried again and came up just as empty.
Apparently, he couldn’t read her thoughts even when he was touching her. He’d been so focused on her physical responses and that tempting body he’d forgotten the disturbing absence of his usual mental connection.
A muffled thunk sounded close to his feet.
“There’s your toy bag. Added some red hemp. Showtime, Master Colin.”
“Thanks.” Colin stayed riveted on Holly.
Duec laughed. “Nice slave.”
Colin whirled, but Duec’s broad back was already halfway across the room and moving fast through the crowd. No way was he going to chase down his boss and leave Holly unprotected. Then what Duec had said sank into Colin’s head. Leave it to Duec to provide the ideal Christmas present. Red hemp — absolutely perfect.
He cupped Holly’s nape. “Come on. I’m going to put your beautiful body on display.”
A muffled squeak that might have been a protest came from her lips.
“Do we need to talk about your limits?” Colin rubbed his thumb along the side of her neck and deepened his voice with enough compulsion to ensure her compliance. “Or are you going to trust me absolutely?”