Prince of Darkness vs Prom Queen 02

"I don't know anything about that rule, and I know rules."

"You know your rules," she retorted, "which change to suit your needs. The world does not revolve around you and your needs and your routine, in fact, your rules could be eliminated completely, and the world would continue spinning." For the first time since she returned from her trip to California, she looked at him with kindness. "Donovan, I understand you have a need to control things. You've explained it to me and I get it, but what you don't seem to be getting, is I don't need to or want to be controlled, at least not all the time. Submitting to you sometimes is fun, but I can't be what I'm not. You seem to want and need a full time, submissive slave who is going to be there for you whenever you want them to be there. I don't have the need to submit. Victor has told me a lot about you and about how highly you're regarded in the BDSM world. You're a superior Dom and trainer, and I can see how frustrated you get with me. I'm sorry I'm not trainable and I'm your one failure."

"I don't think of you as a failure. You're more of a. . . . .work in progress."

She smiled her sunshine smile at him. "I just don't seem to be progressing very rapidly. It shouldn't take me too long to find an apartment. I can move out as soon as I find a place."

"Why do you need an apartment if you're going to California?"

Her gaze was perplexed. "I'm not going to California."

"But Victor said Trent Nichols offered you a job. He offered to triple your salary."

"Yes, he did, but I said no. Donovan, I love my job. I've wanted to be a writer for as long as I've known what being a writer meant. Marian is a wonderful boss. She may be a bit of a slave driver sometimes, but I'm confident she's not going to try to turn me into a sex slave. It's also important for me to be close to the ranch. I have everything I want right here, and I have you to thank for all of it."

"You're thanking me?"

"Of course. I know you feel a certain responsibility because of the whole Frank Harding thing, but, if it wasn't for you, I never would have met Marian, and I wouldn't be as happy as I am right now."

"So why do you want to move out?"

"Because you need to be happy, too. You deserve to be happy."

She started clearing the dishes as efficiently as she did everything else. He wasn't sure why he was surprised at her statement. If the last few months had taught him anything, it was not to be surprised by anything Laci Grace said or did. She wanted to move out so he would be happy. Victor had told him to find happiness. Why did everybody think he wasn't happy? What was happy? Cheerful. Sunshiny. Laci. Happy. Maybe his arrangement wasn't as perfect as he originally thought. "Umm, Laci?"

"Yes."

"Running a business can be a very complicated enterprise and it's imperative for any business owner to know every aspect of that business is being run in the most efficient manner possible. It's like a long chain and if just one link in the chain breaks, the chain is useless. Broken chains can mean disaster in the world of business. Do you understand what I mean?"

Option #1: he was giving her a crash course in Business Administration. Option #2: he had something on his mind and didn't know how to say it. Option #3: he had cracked under the strain of doing too much manual labor, inhaling detergent fumes, and eating pineapple pizza. If the last few months had taught her anything, it was when Donovan Corbett started to babble, things could get very interesting.

"I'm not sure I do understand. I mean, I understand about the broken chain and all, but chains can be repaired, right?"

"No. Well, yes." Frustration was rapidly setting in. "The chain can be repaired. Of course it can be repaired, but it's not the original chain. It's never as good as the original. Once it's been broken, it's never the same as it was before. You've heard about the weakest link, right? The repair is always going to be the weakest link."

Definitely something on his mind. She had it all under control. "But, what if the repaired link is actually made of a stronger material than the original broken link? Then it becomes a weak chain, because the repaired link is so strong, and when the chain falls apart again, the new link isn't any good, so it just gets tossed away and becomes the missing link. Right?"

He just stared at her. "Damn it, Laci! You have to stop spending so much time with Victor. He's starting to warp your mind." He ran his fingers through his dark hair, an obvious sign of his vexation. "I don't want you to move out. No, that's not true. I do want you to move out, but I don't want you to move away. I mean if you move out and get an apartment, then you'll be moving away, but I don't want you to move away. I want you to move, but not move out. Or away. Not away. I want you to move, but not move. Is that something you would ever consider? Could you consider not moving, but moving?"

"If I move, but don't move, where is it exactly that I'll be moving to, when I'm not moving?"

He needed a moment to consider her question. "Well, I've been looking at the house and I thought it could use some updating. Right next to the master bedroom is that little bedroom, so I thought we could break through the wall and combine the two rooms into one big room and you could move out of the guesthouse and into the main house."

Maybe he really had inhaled too many detergent fumes. "You want me to move in with you?"

"Right." Finally. She was finally starting to understand.

"But that would upset your routine."

"I know."

"You hate when your routine is upset."

"I know."

"And I make a lot of noise."

"I know."

"But, I'm not trainable. I'll never be trainable and we disagree about almost everything."

"We could compromise."

Compromise? The Prince of Darkness wanted to compromise? Definitely too many fumes. Or a head injury. Maybe he had hit his head doing whatever it was he had been doing in the kitchen to create the massive mess he had created. Or he was allergic to pineapple. "Can you define compromise? Do you mean compromise the way you compromise, like you did earlier when you tried to get me to choose between the two restaurants you had already chosen? Or do you mean compromise the way I mean compromise, when I get to choose and you go along with it, no questions or arguments?"

He considered for a moment. "Both."

"So, does that mean I get tying privileges?"

"No! Absolutely not. No."

"Okay."

His eyes narrowed. "When you say okay, it never means okay, so what are you saying?"

"No deal. If everything goes by your rules, then it's not a compromise and that means no deal."

"That's blackmail."

"That's product demand curve. I pay attention to everything you tell me. It's good business."

He wanted to argue, but she was right. Maybe he should hire her to work for him. The woman had nerves of solid steel and the most gorgeous ass in the world. He could end up running the world...unless she ended up running it first. "One night. One night and one time only, and you're not allowed to leave the room without untying me."

"Agreed."

He was immediately suspicious. "No. No, no, no. You never agree that easily."

"One night, Donovan. One night and one time, and that time is right now. If you won't trust me, then there's no reason why I should ever trust you and consider moving in with you." She was almost positive she heard him growling as he reluctantly agreed, and before he had the chance to change his mind, she pulled him into the guest house and straight to her bed. "Clothes off. Now."

Damn, she was so fucking bossy. Laci Grace, blue-eyed angel and whip-cracking tyrant. What the hell had he gotten himself into this time, and how did it keep happening? Reluctantly he undressed, then turned around to see she had stripped down to only a silky, blue thong. He wasn't going to fall for any of her ploys and give in, or enjoy this, no matter what she did. No enjoyment. None. "Now what?"

"Now you get on the bed."

"Your unicorn is staring at me."

"Donovan, quit stalling."

"I can see its beady little eyes watching me." Without a word, she picked up the unicorn and carried him to the closet, returning with a handful of scarves and a bright pink, ostrich feather. "What are you doing with those?" he demanded. Instead of answering, she just pointed to the bed. He climbed on with some hesitation, and within seconds, she had him tied, ankles and wrists, securely with four of the scarves. He eyed the fifth, still in her hand. "What are you doing with that one?"

Instead of answering, Laci drew the silk scarf down his body, swirling it over his bare skin. He was going to stay in complete control. He was not going to have any reaction. She continued moving the scarf, letting it caress his chest, swirling it lower, then lower. Hey! That wasn't fair. She stopped just when it was getting good, but it didn't matter. He was still in control and he wasn't enjoying this at all.

The scarf was moving again, brushing his thigh, all the way to his ankle. A moment later she started at his other ankle and the scarf floated up his leg. This wasn't so bad. It was actually very relaxing. Damn. Now what? Was she slithering? She was slithering slowly up his body, just the way she had slithered the scarf down his body a few seconds ago. And she wasn't wearing the thong. When had she taken it off? How did he miss that? He had only relaxed for one second.

The slithering was amazing. She had never done that before. His cock thought so, too, and that was fine. He was only human. He was supposed to react in these kinds of situations. It was perfectly normal. Oh fuck! That felt really good. She was half straddling him, nuzzling his neck, sprinkling little kisses along his jaw, across his shoulders, but he was still in control.

She moved quickly, tying the scarf around his eyes. "No!" He was protesting. He was sure he was protesting. Tying privileges didn't extend to blindfolding. She didn't seem to have heard his protest.

Oh. That was nice. She was kissing him. He could feel her lips gently making contact with his. He had to react to that and kiss her back. It was the gentlemanly thing to do. Was she nibbling at his bottom lip? It seemed only fair to nibble back. Damn. She stopped. Now what was she doing?

That must be the feather. It was barely touching him as it moved from his wrist, up his arm, across his shoulders and neck, then down his other arm. He could hardly feel it, but it was definitely there. Damn, she was slithering again, but this time she was moving down his body. How the hell had she learned to slither? She was kissing him again, down the center of his chest, light, little kisses, like snowflakes, going lower, and lower, and lower, and lower.....FUCK! She stopped again. She was giving her attention to everything except what wanted her attention the most. It really wanted her attention.

She had the feather again. Not fair. She was not playing by the rules. The feather was tickling his inner thigh, up and down, back and forth, up and down. Now she was stroking behind his knee, down his shin, around his ankle and toes. Oh, no. She was starting on his other foot. How the hell was she moving that feather so softly he could hardly feel it? It had moved back up his leg, behind his other knee and was making its way to his other thigh, his inner thigh...up and down, back and forth, up and down. She was kissing his inner thighs. He could feel her hair brushing against his skin, and who was making that sound? Who was moaning? That wasn't him. He was still in complete control. Or maybe not.

Had his cock ever been this hard? It must have been. He just couldn't remember because all the blood was flowing from his brain, straight to the lower part of his body. Erect? One more minute and he was going to be getting an award for best posture. He was not enjoying this. He was in control.

Damn. He hated the blindfold. He wanted to see what she was going to do next. What the hell was that? Now what was she doing? Her nails. She was dragging the very tips of her nails across the surface of his skin and why was the bed shaking? Was Georgia having an earthquake? Georgia wasn't supposed to have earthquakes. Oh wow! That felt so good. Her nails were raking his skin, so softly. It felt incredible. How could she be so gentle? Uh oh. That shaking wasn't Georgia. It was him. Every fucking inch of him was quivering. What was she doing to him? Damn that felt good. His control was wavering.

She was back to kisses. Soft, the tiniest little kisses falling like sunbeams on his skin. That felt good. A lick. No. A nip. No. A lick. Another kiss. Couldn't she make up her damn mind? Why hadn't she said anything? Well...she was kind of busy with her kissing, licking, and nipping. Her kisses were amazing. She kissed him all the time, but not like this. Never like this. Not once like this. What the hell had she been waiting for? No wonder he was dizzy. He was holding his breath. FUCK! Take a breath. Take another breath. Deep controlling breaths. Damn. Control? Who said anything about control?

Nails. She was back to nails, and how the fuck many fingers did she have? He'd never actually counted but his skin felt like it was being touched by about 100 nails, brushing, stroking, caressing, swirling. Her fingertips were skimming the surface of his skin. It felt like he was being massaged with sunshine.

Finally. She was finally getting to the good part. Sure as hell took her long enough. Was that her tongue? Her tongue was flickering the very tip of his cock. How was she doing that? He'd never felt anything like it. No. No. No. Rule number one was no teeth, but rules were meant to be broken, although he probably shouldn't tell her that. How the hell was she doing that? Teeth were not supposed to feel good. FUCK! She was so gentle and that moaning sound was getting annoying. Who the hell was doing that? Probably that stupid unicorn of hers.

Victor said giving someone else tying privileges could be fun. Maybe he should listen to Victor more often. Not a good picture. Not what he wanted in his mind. He needed to focus. Now what was she doing? Were those her nails again? She was stroking the underside of his cock with the tips of her nails, but her mouth was doing other things and he was not going to show her that he was enjoying this. FUCK! That felt so good, but he wasn't enjoying it. Not enjoying it. Was his cock getting harder? Was it even physically possible? He wished that damned unicorn would shut the fuck up. Idiotic thing was probably jealous because he wasn't getting the blow-job of the century. DAMN! What was she doing?

Chills. He was breaking out in a cold sweat. She must have opened a window, but considering what else she was doing, there was no way she could have reached the window. He wasn't enjoying this.

He wasn't enjoying it. Oh fuck. Who the hell was he kidding? This was better than sex. Wait! How could sex be better than sex? Must be all the blood rushing from his head. He couldn't think straight. That must be it. Now what was she doing? DAMN! That felt so good. That felt really good.

Fuck! She stopped. That wasn't fair. Just when he was almost ready to come. He had to remember to breathe. He hated that he was tied and couldn't touch her. He hated the blindfold and not being able to see her. Was she straddling him again? No. She was mounting him. He could feel himself being enveloped into her soft, very wet pussy. She was sinking down lower. She was holding him around the waist and he was trying to thrust and take back control, but that wasn't happening. Her fingertips were fluttering across his stomach making his muscles clench. He might as well just admit he hadn't been in control ever since he agreed to give her tying privileges. He might as well just accept there probably wasn't an earthquake in Georgia and that damned stuffed unicorn hadn't been moaning all this time.

Now she was sort of bouncing or swaying, or undulating....he really didn't care. It just felt so damn good. NO! That wasn't fair. She stopped. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!! Wait. She was moving again. The hell with being in control. He was coming. He could feel it and he was ready to let go. Tying privileges? Who knew? FUCK!! That was no unicorn. That was Master Donovan, Prince of Darkness and control freak, screaming through the most intense orgasm he'd ever experienced.

He was trying to remember how to breathe. He should know how to breathe. He'd been doing it his whole life. He was still shaking as he pulled at the restraints, but finally his heart rate was starting to slow.

Now what was she doing? She wasn't done yet?

She was still on top of him and she wasn't moving, but she was. She was using her inner muscles to massage his cock. He could feel her kneading him. NO! It wasn't possible. She was making him hard again. This was another physical impossibility. Didn't she know anything about the way things worked? How the hell was she doing whatever it was that she was doing? He could feel himself getting hard again while he was still inside her. How the hell had she learned to do that? He was trying to thrust, but he couldn't, although he wasn't sure if it was because of the restraints or because he was exhausted. It didn't matter. Fuck! FUCK!!!

Maybe her goal was to kill him with orgasms. Goals were good. Everyone needed a goal. Right?

Chapter 9 A Perfect Arrangement

He wasn't sure how long he had been lying there, but he could feel her untying his ankles. A moment later she had untied his wrists, but he was too exhausted to move. He didn't even have the energy to remove the blindfold. Luckily, she did it for him. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room.

There she was. The Prom Queen was sitting on the bed next to him, her legs neatly tucked under her, sunbeams radiating, looking as angelic as always. As he squinted, he was sure he could almost see her halo. How the hell was she able to look so good? He felt like he'd been stampeded by a herd of cattle from her fucking ranch. Every inch of him ached and it was going to be at least a half hour before his equilibrium returned enough to allow him to walk straight. And there she sat, hardly a hair out of place.

"What the hell did you do to me?" he grumbled at her.

"I submitted to you." Were her eyes always that blue? "You gave me tying privileges and let me submit to you. Thank you, Donovan. It was lovely."

Wait! What? He needed a minute to review.

He asked her to move to the main house and she said she would consider it if he gave her tying privileges for one night.

Check.

He didn't really want to give her tying privileges, but he really wanted her to move in with him.

Check.

She tied him to the bed, but he didn't want to be tied to the bed.

Check.

She had her way with him.

Double check.

She submitted to him??

When? How? It had finally happened, and somehow, he'd managed to miss it.

"Laci? Can we talk?"

"Of course, but Donovan, I know what you're going to say. A promise is a promise. You said one night, one time, and I agreed. I would never break my word. Do you still want me to move in with you?"

"Yes. Now more than ever, but you said you wanted me to be happy and I want to know if moving in is going to make you happy. You weren't really very happy with me earlier."

"You mean the kitchen? I guess I should apologize for being so mean. I wasn't planning to come back and start cleaning, but it was just a little mess. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"Laci, it was a disaster. I nearly destroyed the place."

"Nonsense. I've been knee deep in cow dung. Trust me. It was only a little mess, but what on earth were you trying to do?"

"Make cookies."