Page 9 of Vienna Betrayal

“No, Sir.”

“Do not lie to me.”

“I’m not lying.”

He examined her, regard almost clinical as he took in her face before moving his gaze lower. A small smile quirked his lips and she realized that her nipples were hard inside the lace cups of the soft corset.

The crop came up and he rubbed the tip across her left nipple.

Alena jerked, and shock at the unexpected, intimate touch quickly morphed to tingling excitement.

“This is allowed by your limits,” Alexander said.

“You just surprised me, Sir.”

“You enjoyed it.”

It wasn’t a question, but it seemed like he wanted a response. “Yes, Sir.”

“Why?”

“I’m sorry, you want me to explain…why I found it pleasurable when you touched one of my erogenous zones?”

Another quirk of his lips. “No.” He reached out, hooked a finger in the lace between her breasts, and yanked the corset down.

Alena gasped and instinctively raised her hands to cover herself.

Alexander moved, faster than she would have guessed a man whose job was being rich and powerful would.

As her palms closed over her breasts he dropped to one knee, while simultaneously releasing the crop. He grabbed her wrists and yanked her hands away from her body, forcing her arms down.

Shock, and a little ripple of fear, raced through her. Biting the tip of her tongue helped stave off the instinct to fight him. She raised her eyes to his face, only to find him staring back at her with cold, implacable resolve.

They held one another’s gaze for a long moment before he deliberately looked down at her chest.

Alena felt heat in her face as he stared at her bare, exposed breasts. Her arms tensed, and he tightened his hold fractionally.

“You will not hide or cover your nakedness.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You…you took me by surprise, Sir.” This was harder than she’d thought it would be. Submission had never been part of her nature. She’d first turned to it at a time in her life when she’d craved rules, structure, and the safety those provided.

He released her wrists, but his hands hovered near hers, ready to grab her if she tried to cover herself.

Alena lowered her chin to signal her acceptance, her submission.

“You expected me to leave your breasts covered?”

“No, Sir. I just expected us to…talk more first.”

“I prefer actions to words.”

“But you asked me to explain why I reacted when you touched me.”

“I want you to talk.” He raised his hand and reached for her left breast. “I want you to tell me everything you’re thinking and feeling.”

He cupped her breast, her pale flesh shades lighter than his tanned hand. She sucked in air, then held her breath.

“No,” he murmured. “Breathe.”

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