Taming the Fire Read Online Free PDF Page B

session and left it alone. Instead, she'd told him to come back. She wasn't entirely sure why she'd done that—maybe it was because she enjoyed a challenge. Maybe it was because he excited her more than she'd been excited in a long time.
    Maybe she was growing stupid and soft.
    She fingered the whip in her hand. No, not soft. Definitely not soft.
    Then again, last night's incident in the alley filled her with doubt. Robert's attack had left her prowling her flat all night long, afraid to sleep. Itor hadn't given her the usual agent training, which included evasive techniques and combat instruction. They hadn't wanted her to either defend or take care of herself should she escape. Though she'd been surprised at her resourcefulness when it came to survival, she cursed her inability to effectively defend herself in a life-threatening situation. Her only means of self-defense was the beast, which she couldn't control.
    To make matters worse, Trance had compounded an already bad situation. Sure, he'd saved her from Robert, but he'd brought with him his own brand of danger. The underlying tone of command in his voice, even when he was saying “Yes, Mistress,” rang through her body and split it in half. The beast bristled with irritation, but the woman responded with appreciation.
    The woman had responded last night by obeying his order not to argue with him.
    The beast wanted to punish him for that.
    Slowly, Rik walked around Trance as he kneeled before her, now naked except for the slave collar, head bowed, hands bound behind his muscular back by a collar-wrist restraint. She trailed the whip over his skin and prickled with satisfaction when he shivered.
    He was beautiful… all sinew and tan skin, long limbs, rolling shoulders. Everything about him oozed alpha . The beast in her wanted to challenge it, crush it. The woman in her wanted to roll over and let him take her as a dominant, powerful lover.
    That would never happen, though, so instead she'd make him her slave.
    “Follow me.” She smiled at the sound of him scooting across the floor on his knees.
    Her stilettos cracked on the cement, harsh reminders that she was in charge. She'd worn her one outfit that screamed dominatrix , and she'd even pulled her long hair back into a severe pony-tail.
    There would be no doubt as to who was in control tonight.
    When she reached the bondage altar, a large cushioned table with iron rings welded to all sides, she sat on the edge and waited. Even on his knees, he moved with unimaginable grace, until she stopped him with one high-heeled foot on his shoulder. When he raised his gaze, she pressed the heel into his skin.
    “I didn't give you permission to look up, boy.”
    He looked down again, but she didn't let up with her foot. She pushed harder, forcing his spine straight, and then she kicked off her other shoe.
    “Look at me.” He did, the defiance flashing in his eyes making this even more fun. “I want you to kiss my foot. Lick it. Suck it. Do it well, and I'll reward you.”
    Holding her gaze, he leaned forward, bracing himself against her shoe, which must have been painful, but he didn't even flinch. Instead, he opened his mouth over the sole of her offered foot. His tongue flicked over the sensitive skin there in her arch, circling, licking, mimicking something much more intimate.
    Sensation flooded her, and she threw her head back, let him suck her toes, nibble her arch, lick her heel… God, he was good. Moisture flooded her sex, and damn, she could come from this.
    It was that good.
    “Suck my toe now,” she murmured. “Suck it the way you like your cock sucked.”
    His lips closed around her toe, and he began a slow, sensuous slide in and out of the hot, silky depths of his mouth. As his tongue laved the sensitive tip, she could imagine her tongue swirling around the head of his cock as he fucked her mouth. He must have been picturing the same thing, because a low moan accompanied a gentle scrape of his teeth, the