Marcia James, author of hot, humorous romances
 
 

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At Her Command

At Her Command by Marcia JamesEbook ISBN: 978-0-9837033-4-1
Print book ISBN: 978-0-9837033-5-8
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Excerpt

Dalton had to be alive.

    Racing home from the sex club, Domino had dialed her DEA partner's cell repeatedly. No answer. Had they saved Dalton from the drug runners? She whipped into her driveway, slammed out of the car and hurried up the sidewalk.

    Domino barely registered the freezing wind cutting through her Mistress Bella dominatrix outfit. Please, God, let Dalton be safe. Her mind refused to consider the alternative.

    Stepping onto her porch, she keyed open the front door. A callused hand covered her mouth and jerked her back against a steel-hard body. Adrenaline shot through her as she raised her keys to rake them across her assailant's face.

    "It's me, dammit!"

    Dalton! Weak with relief, she let him pull her into her house then close and lock the door. She spun to face the man who'd haunted her dreams for weeks.

    "Thank God." Dom launched herself into his arms, which wrapped firmly around her. Dalton felt so right. She raised her head to see his smiling face. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

    "Well, my balls are a little bruised, courtesy of Mistress Bella." He chuckled at her embarrassed flush. "But thanks to your switchblade, I had myself free by the time those goons reached the river. And that tracking device brought the DEA cavalry. I owe you one, Agent Petracelli."

    Dom studied his intense eyes and thought of the paybacks he owed her for the dominatrix sessions. Suddenly shy, she tried to escape his embrace.

    "No, you don't." Dalton tightened his arms. "I like you right where you are. Besides, I haven't thanked you properly yet for saving my life. There's something I've wanted to do since the first time I saw you…"

    Dom realized his intent a second before his mouth took hers in a hard, bruising kiss. God, yes. She pressed against him, arching to get closer still. Dalton's arms tightened almost painfully around her body.

    She gasped and his tongue drove into her mouth, searching out and tangling with hers. Dom splayed her fingers through his hair and held on. For an eternity they warred for dominance. Finally they broke apart and she looked into eyes so filled with desire they were midnight blue.

    "Tonight we'll do things my way," Dalton warned, mocking Mistress Bella's words. "If you're not up to the challenge, say so now and I'll leave. Because once we start, there'll be no stopping, no safe-word crap. Understand?"

    Dom licked her dry lips and nodded, shuddering with sexual anticipation.

    Dalton's gaze flickered to her mouth before returning to her eyes. "If I stay, I'll explore every inch of your body and get to know you in ways you've never dreamed before. Do you want me, Domino?"

    Fighting down the nerves his words inspired, she lifted her chin. "Yes." Then the air whooshed out of her lungs as Dalton threw her over his shoulder in a firefighter's lift. "Is this necessary?" she demanded, sounding squeaky to her own ears.

    'Definitely." His voice rumbled in his chest, the vibrations tickling her breasts as she hung upside down against his back. "Which way to your bedroom?"

    "Neanderthal," she muttered but pointed to the hallway on the right.

    "It feels good to act the caveman after weeks as a wimp," he growled. Giving her a swat on her butt, he headed down the hall.

    A bark brought him up short. Domino pushed herself up to see Smokey standing in the living room. Teeth bared, he looked as fierce as a thirteen-pound dog could look.

    "Is that a mutant rat?" Dalton asked.

    "He's a Chinese Crested and a highly trained DEA drug dog," Dom defended her canine partner.

    "Call off the ankle biter unless you want him following us to bed." Dalton's tone was amused. "I'm no exhibitionist and I doubt you want an audience."

    Domino gulped. "Smokey, sit. Stay."

    The dog obeyed, his last yips resembling bad-tempered grumbles. Dalton continued down the hall. More than gravity caused the blood to rush to Dom's face as he carried her into her bedroom. Unlike the rest of her contemporary house, the bedroom was a romantic boudoir setting at odds with her agent persona. And given Dalton's experiences with Mistress Bella, the ultra-feminine room suddenly seemed absurd.

    The full moon filtered through the gauzy curtains, illuminating the king-sized bed with its brass headboard and jumble of pillows. Dalton dumped her onto the bed and stood hands on hips as she pushed her hair from her face.

    "Strip." His order was non-negotiable.

    Domino shivered. He was following Mistress Bella's script. Tonight would be about sex, not love. She wouldn't project this man into any fantasies about white picket fences and happily ever afters. She wanted Dalton more than she'd ever wanted any man. So she'd take the pleasure he offered without pretty promises. But she'd protect her heart.

    Domino pulled down the zipper that bisected her silk dress. His gaze followed her fingers and his eyes widened as he realized she wasn't wearing a bra. A flash of feminine pride softened her innate resistance to giving up control. She removed the gilded dress and dropped it over the side of the bed. Her nipples tightened under his keen inspection.

    Dom kicked off her sandals and they tumbled to the floor. All that remained were her golden garterless stockings and her thong. She slipped her fingers under the elastic edge of her left stocking, peeled it down and off. Smoothing her hands up her right leg, she grasped the top of that stocking and drew it off as well.

    Dalton's gaze stroked her bare legs as it swept to the patch of gold silk shielding the last of her from his eyes. She hesitated, reluctant to take this last step.

    "Everything." His hoarse voice brooked no opposition.

    Dom slid off her thong and lay back on the bed. The hot anticipation of finally feeling Dalton inside her fought with her discomfort at being naked in front of this fully clothed male.

    His hands curled into fists and he seemed to be struggling for control. "Reach up and grab hold of the bed." His order came through clenched teeth.

    Dom slowly complied, the brass of the headboard cold against her palms. The movement arched her back and thrust up her breasts in invitation. She was only simulating bondage, but the intensity of his stare pinned her to the bed as surely as a rope.

    Dalton's breath caught and then continued raggedly. The knowledge of her effect on him hardened her resolve to finish this game.

    "Weeks of sexual torture…" Dalton's eyes met hers as he yanked off his shirt. "The teasing, the taunts." He toed off his boat shoes. "You touching, taking…always in charge." He put his wallet on the nightstand. "Always off-limits…" He unzipped his pants and pushed them, along with his briefs, down and off.

    Dom sucked in her breath at the sight of his arousal. She'd seen his body before, arrogantly handled it, but tonight was different. Tonight she'd willingly relinquish control to the man who'd stimulated her fantasies… Shakily, she licked her lips and watched Dalton's mouth curve into a wicked smile.

 

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