☼  Sasha Darling  ☼

"Home, Miss?"

Instead of replying to my driver, Mr Davies, question straightaway. My mind circled back to a very different kind of question.

How did one go about seducing the one person who'd played a starring role in nearly every single fantasy since... Well, since I learned what fun my clitoris was?

It had been torturing me for weeks, months. Okay, years.

There was also the tiny problem of I'd already tried once... on my twentieth birthday. As you can no doubt figured out—It didn't go to plan. And my therapist thought I was crazy when I'd asked her, and yeah, she actually said that, well, not in so many words.

So, perhaps it was just best to spit it out. Carpe diem and ask.

And if that failed. There was always begging.

"No. Mr Davies." I angled my chin up slightly. "Take me to see Mr Coles."

I caught the arch of his brow in the small mirror. "At this hour, Miss?" he asked and I was well aware it was after polite hours of visiting... for normal people.

But Mr Coles was anything but normal. He was one of my father's closest friends, although younger, and I often wondered if he was more of a surrogate son.

He'd also been around my whole life.

And yes, my father would have an aneurysm if he knew the thoughts I'd been harbouring for Zachery Coles all these years. 

But the vagina wants what the vagina wants.

No matter how wrong.  And, I wasn't a little girl any longer.

My father also invested in his clubs, although Zack hadn't needed his or their other friends, Max Jenson's investment, as he was wealthy in his own right, thanks to his late father.

Ugh, Max Jenson. Well, not Max the man. His son. Ellis Jenson. I'd had the not so nice pleasure of growing up with Ellis, who was aptly best described as a self-absorbed, immature, prick. And that was on a good day.

Thankfully, our lives had taken us in different directions, with our colleges of choice being on opposite sides of the country.

As the car arrived at my destination. Mr Davies opened my door, and I exited, smoothing down my hand over my dress. "Thank you, Mr Davies. I won't be needing your services for the rest of the night."

He looked troubled. "I'll stick around a while, Miss."

I smiled, trying not to sigh. Everyone was always looking out for me, when I could easily make my way home . I nodded and walked toward the two burly men guarding the members only entrance.

They eyed me suspiciously, and I almost expected one of them to say, Thou shalt not pass!

"Good Evening Miss." The shorter one of the two greeted with one eyebrow raised.

"Hello." I smiled. "I'm here to see Mr Coles."

The other lifted his iPad. "Name please."

"Oh." Shaking my head. "He won't be expecting me. I just flew in."

They shared a look.

"My name is Sasha Darling and if you would let him know I'm here, please."

Their matching doubtful expressions had me biting back a sigh of impatience as I checked the diamond watch on my wrist.

Finally, one leaned in to the other and whispered and then turned and used the key-pad on the door to let himself in.

He returned in less than two minutes and opened the door wide. "Mr Coles will see you in his apartment, Miss Darling. Please turn right toward the elevator and the code is nineteen."

His apartment? Why was he not working?

Heading up in the lift, my foot tapped out a nervous beat and I had to clench my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering. Not that I was cold.

The door opened, and my gaze peeked out, slamming right into my infatuation.

There. The man with the hard jaw and icy grey eyes. The man who gave me sweet little shivers between my legs every time he said my name.

But what was with that  look?

He looked a little... out of sorts. Gaunt even. Like something was bothering him. Not that Zack was a smiley kind a guy. Hell no. The man had more pissed off expressions than I owned shoes.

Was that stubble? And closer up. His hair was wet. Had he just got out the shower?

And didn't that conjure up all kinds of mental porn.

Letting my eyes wander, Zack pushed off the doorframe and widened his stance almost as if to brace himself. He now filled the entire doorway with his strong muscular physique. The damp white t-shirt was glued to his ripped pecs. Biceps curved away from wide shoulders. Denim stretched around long defined legs and the low dip of the waistband revealed indentations of a V-cut that I would love to lick.

I couldn't ever recall him being this... casual. Although I didn't doubt what he was wearing was Armani or something similar. Only the best for Zachary Coles.

"It's not a bad time?" I asked.

He didn't answer my question. Shocker.

"Sasha. What are you doing here?"

His tone was anything but welcoming. My smile held firm as my heart kicked up its beat. "Not a nice way to greet a lady?" I pouted.

His stupidly handsome face didn't react.

Flicking my long, dark hair over my shoulder. "Just a chat."

To his credit. He moved aside so I could walk past him. My eyes rapidly did a quick inventory. His apartment, as expected, was just like the others. Well, the ones I'd seen. Decorated simply. Blacks. Whites and grey and artwork. Zack loved art. But I wasn't interested in art.

I was looking for signs of another... someone in his life.

Happily, I found none.

"Well," he started. "This must be interesting if you got on a plane and flew eleven hours to chat..." He walked past me. "Does Ryan know you're here?"

Ryan was my father, and he was the epic hero every girl should hope to have growing up. I loved him and yes, he indulged his only daughter, me. "I don't need his permission, Zack. I'm twenty-two."

I knew how everyone saw me. Spoiled little rich girl. Too much money. Too many friends who weren't friends at all.

Zack's eyes locked straight back onto mine, as though I'd touched a never. Then he grunted and caught my hand and lifted it between us. My ring finger was bare.

"So you got rid of the loser, I see?"

The loser being Hugh Whitman.

And Hugh wasn't a loser. He was just... What's the word? Gentle. Nice. Too nice.

Zack skimmed his thumb across my bare skin, still frowning.

His touch sent a shiver right through me, and another clear indication of the many ways my relationship with Hugh wasn't right, doomed from the start, as just a single touch from Zack did all kinds of unholy things to my body.

Then again, Hugh and I only ever had polite, nice sex. He could never give me what I needed.

I was pretty sure only one man could give me what I needed. And that man was standing right in front of me, looking deliciously sexy and yeah, you guessed it... pissed off.

But he wouldn't deter me, no matter how many scowls he threw at me.

"Zack." I said his name slowly. "You remember my twentieth birthday?"

Zack's dark eyes went wide and then hot before he shuttered his response, locking himself up tight. But, almost as if he couldn't resist, he swiped the pad of his thumb over my bare ring finger again. "It's never gonna happen, Sasha."

He dropped my hand. His voice was low, but clear. "Fuck, I need a drink." He also sounded furious.

"Good idea."

"Sasha. No!"

The warning in his tone made my thighs clench together and aroused the girly parts of me that would forever be obsessed and most likely in love with this man.

"What you need to do is turn around and walk your ass out of that door and get back on daddy's private plane and go home."

And again with the look.

The one that most likely scared everyone else. But not me. It's the look that made my pussy drool and my mouth dry.

He groaned. "Fine. I don't have much up here. You'll have to make do with whisky."

My small victory made me a little lightheaded.

"I'm good with whisky," I said, with a catch in my voice because his eyes had just taken an excursion over what I was wearing. And honestly, it wasn't much.

My red dress was barely long enough to cover the tops of my thighs and it emphasised every god-given curve, especially my ass, because If I knew one thing about Zack. He was an ass man.

Following him through his apartment into his kitchen... which was almost militantly clean I noted and dragged a finger along the smooth granite worktop with my eyes busy snooping, but all the while I could feel Zack's eyes stroking my ass. "Have you missed me?"

Again. No answer.

He finished pouring out the whisky, and I gave myself a little pep talk and evaporated the distance between us, sliding between him and the counter to reach for my glass.

Yeah. Not subtle. But hey, a girl's gotta push, right?

And just like that, he was at my back, his hips against my ass. "Cheers," I said over my shoulder.

I felt his chest inflate, but he didn't move back. "What are you doing, Sasha?"

Him staying exactly where he was gave my ego a little stroke. I sipped the whisky and tried not to gag. Whisky was not my drink of choice.

Putting the glass down, I slowly turned to face him and I had to lean back to meet his grey eyes, which had a touch of silver around the iris. Hmph. I'd never noticed that before.

He was still wearing that frown. "I want to ask something." My eyes dropped to his full lips... lips that I wanted to kiss. Lips I'd dreamt of kissing. But Zack didn't kiss. From every tiny bit of detail I'd collected about the man over the years. No one could tell me what kissing the man was like.

"Ask."

"Let me be your submissive—for the summer."

The barely banked heat in his gaze was back, flaring hotter by the second. He still hadn't moved, either to press against me or to retreat.

My tongue darted out to lick across my lips.

"We've already talked about this, Sasha." His stare was sharp. "You don't want to go down that rabbit hole."

Oh, but I did. I wanted to dive in. Be a dirty little Alice and probe that hole.

But he was right. This was the second time. The first time, he laughed, which was not good for a girl's self-esteem, but now he wasn't laughing and that look. Well, let's say it was very different from last time.

"Are you thinking about me on my knees, Zack?" He still hadn't moved. "Naked, willing to do anything you ask of me?"

I did. All the time.

Not moving, I carried on.

"I think you jerk off till your fist is soaked with cum with the idea of having me at your beck and call."

I could easily get off with the look that was staring back at me, right now.

His breathing picked up, and he reached around me to grasp the counter on either side of me. "I don't like to repeat myself, Sasha."

"Neither do I."

His exhale was harsh. "You don't know what you want!" But he still hadn't moved away.

"Don't tell me what I want and don't want." I was trying to keep a lid on nerves. "I have enough men in my life doing that for me."

My father and an array of uncles.

He still didn't move. "Even if I were to agree to this crazy request. It would be fucked up of me to strip you of your clothes and make you bend over and spread your legs wide and finger that pretty little cunt."

I gulped.

"And I would be a fucking monster if I took you downstairs into the viewing area of the club, naked, and forced you onto your knees and then watched a line up of men fuck your throat, while I fucked my hand getting off seeing them use you. Watching those pretty browns gush as much as your pussy."

He shifted forward the barest amount, closing in on me. "I'm not a good man, Sasha. I'm not one of your nice, gentle lovers."

"Zack," I whispered his name like it was a secret, just between us. "Nothing about what you just said scares me."

He cursed softly, shaking his head.

I reached behind and lifted myself onto the kitchen counter, putting us at the same height. Not to mention my dress rode up further.

Zack looked down, and I sucked in a breath as he shifted one hand to where the edge of my dress sat. "Sasha..."

And this time when he said my name, he sounded different. Something filtered through his tone, something other than barely restrained irritation. "Tell me. If I push up this dress, am I going to find your cunt bare?"

The heat shot up my spine as I licked over my lips again. "Only one way to find out." I leaned closer. "Sir."

I inched back, and he was looking at me in the way I've dreamed about, like he had a thousand things he wanted to do to my body, but he wasn't sure where he wanted to start.

"No one is here to stop you." When he said nothing or moved, I pressed. "Do it."

And my tummy fluttered when his hand moved to my hip and crunched the fabric of my dress in his hand, pulling it tight against my body. "You shouldn't tempt the monster."

Oh, but I did. I wanted to drag that monster from its cage.

But I could hardly catch my breath. "Are you... tempted?"

"There are a hundred reasons I shouldn't be."

That wasn't a no and my inner slut did a little shimmy.

My dress hitched up a little more with every pull of his hand, revealing more of my bare skin. "I want this, Zack. I want you. Isn't that enough?"

He stilled. Just like that and then his hand left moved and the fabric of my dress relaxed.

My shoulders sagged as disappointment spilled through my mind and my body. But he'd not moved and I almost eek'd when his hand rode up my side, skimming the curve of my breast before he gripped my chin, tight enough to hurt.

"Is this really what you want, Sasha?"

He pressed two fingers to my bottom lip, and I opened. "You want to call me Sir, while I do dirty things to you?"

His fingers slipped inside my mouth, in and out, mimicking fucking.

My chest tightened in a really good way with every filthy word spilling from those perfect lips. It made the heat in my blood climb higher and I didn't have time to answer before he clamped his remaining fingers tightly around my chin. His fingers ploughed in. Deep. Gagging me and I made a panicked sound.

Moving his face closer, he held my stare as his fingers eased up and stroked my tongue. "I'm going to lift you off this counter and you will lift your dress and if I find that pussy bare, then I'm going to put you over my knee and spank you, Sasha."

He eased back and searched my face.

I wasn't sure what he was looking for. Fear? Disgust?

He wouldn't find either. I wanted to be bad, to be dirty.

His shoulders loosened and he lifted me off and set me on my feet and my legs felt like Jello-O. But I kept my composure and reached for the hem of my dress and inch by inch...

"Wait!"

My hands stopped, but my heart kicked up a beat as Zack looked around him and scratched his whiskered cheek, as if he was only now just realising where we were.

He considered me for a moment and then flicked his chin toward the living room."Come," he ordered, and I followed him back into his spacious open plan living area.

Zack got to work moving around furniture, placing a black ottoman closer to the leather sofa.

Turning, he dropped onto the couch, moving till he looked more relaxed that I felt and stretched his long legs out and crooked a finger.

Oh my god. This was really happening.

"Let's see how shameless you are. Shoes off. Climb onto the ottoman." My breath caught in my throat, but I slipped off my shoes and climbed on, facing him. "Turn around and pull up your dress."

Flipping around, I stilled when his hands flanked either side of my hips—to steady me?

I caught the hem of my dress, inching it up over my ass to leave me naked from the waist down. "This enough..." smirking. "Sir?"

He cleared his throat. "Good girl." His grip on me tightened. "Get on all fours."  He shifted his hands, and I obeyed without question. Well aware of how he punished his subs for not obeying or hesitating.

In position, his hands returned, and with a lowered voice, he instructed. "Spread your legs, arch your back. I want this ass higher."

My teeth sank into my bottom lip as his hand spread open my ass cheeks and I heard him make a sound in the back of his throat before he moved a hand to cup my pussy.

We both exhaled.

"Just as I thought. Shameless little slut."

"Hmhmm," squeaked out as I now held my breath.

"So fucking wet," he muttered, and then he pushed two thick fingers inside me. "You'll do anything for me."

His voice sounded unfamiliar, and I wasn't even sure if that was a question, but answered it anyway. "Yes, Sir." I moaned and eased back to make his fingers go deeper.

I felt on fire. Dirty. Wanton. Wanting more.

"You play the good little girl, but what you really need is to be fucked dirty and put in your place."

My head dropped a fraction. Oh, god. It was like he could see inside it and my chest filled with a soul-deep breath.

Lightly pinching my clit. I jolted, but thankfully his fingers stayed deep inside me. "So fucking eager for it." The way he said it didn't make it sound like a good thing.

"Would you have done this in your father's office? Bent over his desk, pulled up your dress and dripped all over the place whilst I fingered and stretched out your tight cunt?"

He sounded angry again and confusion and desire and not a smidgeon of shame worked through me.

"Please... Zack." I spread my legs wider.

But then, just like that, he pulled his fingers free and my head whipped around and my lips parted.

He was stopping there?

"Up!" he barked, making me jump. "Stand up!"

I nearly fell off the ottoman, scrambling to get up, but flicking my hair back I turned around to face him, leaving my dress hiked up and my cheeks flushed.

Zack shifted himself to the ottoman. "Over my lap."

His face looked even angrier and I might have been a little worried if not for the huge bulge in his jeans. His face might mask what he felt. But his cock sure wasn't hiding how it was feeling and it had me all giddy.

And if this was another test. Then I was gonna ace this one too. And as gracefully as I could, I moved to lower myself across his lap.

He adjusted his position and then his hand moved over my ass almost reverently and just rested it there.

"Zack?" I questioned when nothing happened.

"Get up Sasha."

I got up. But now he wouldn't look at me at all, and I knew something had changed. "Zack?"

He was up off the ottoman. "Pull your dress down and put on your shoes."

Whatever spark was there a few moments ago had been stubbed out.

"Call your driver."

"Zack," I pleaded. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

He moved past me loosing some kind of fight with his lungs as he released a heavy, loud exhale. "This never fucking happened!"

This was the Zack I knew all too well. His shutters came down leaving me cold and on the outside. And then, like a gust of wind, he was gone. Right out the door... bare-feet 'n all.

Throwing my hands up in the air, air whooshed from my lungs as I stomped my foot like a toddler.

Well, shit. That didn't go as planned... again!