A long shuddering sigh went through him. “Yes. That’s what I want. Keep it up and I’ll keep talking. But slowly. I don’t want to come yet.”

She stroked him, awkwardly at first and then finding a rhythm.

“I always liked you, Penelope. I wasn’t good for anyone back then. I’m probably still not, but things have changed. I always found you attractive.”

She rubbed her cheek against his chest. “I find that hard to imagine. You didn’t date anyone who looked like me.”

He chuckled, his chest moving with the laugh. “I took a few women out to lunch at the office. It wasn’t anything serious. I didn’t really date at all. Not the way you would think of it. I played with subs, but I never was exclusive. I took out a couple of women when I was younger, but I have to lie about so much, it didn’t seem to be possible. I was in the Army for the longest time and then I was SIS. I can’t have a normal relationship. I have to be able to work, and most women aren’t going to understand why I need to leave to go undercover for months or even years at a time.”

She understood all that, but it didn’t answer the basic question. “Why me?”

“You don’t think you’re pretty, but you’re wrong. And it’s more than that. I want what you can offer me. I want all that kindness. I want that innocence. I want to be the one who teaches you how to stroke a cock. You’re quite good at it, by the way.” His free hand came up, sliding across her belly and up to cup her breast.

Her nipple peaked as his hand ran across it.

She lost her rhythm, her whole body on alert as he touched her.

“But you need to learn to focus, love.” His fingertips found her nipple and squeezed tight, a short, sharp shock.

She gasped as the pain flared and then sank into her. “Damon.”

He tweaked her again. “Master. We’re playing. I’m in charge now, and I want you to stroke my cock. I think that you like this. I think the idea of pleasing me does something for you. And I definitely think you respond to a bite of pain.”

Her pussy certainly had. It was as though the pain from his fingers had gone directly to her core, morphing in to pleasure along the way. She gripped his cock again, with more confidence this time, and stroked him.

“That’s my girl.” Damon whispered the words, almost breathing them into her skin. “That’s exactly what I want. I didn’t have anything to offer you then, but I do now. I can show you the world. All those things you read about in books, I can make them real for you. I can protect you while you explore. I can take care of you, Penelope. All you have to do is submit to me. I’ll treat you like the gift you are.”

His words drugged her, made her feel drowsy with wanting. There was absolutely nothing to keep her from rolling onto her back and letting him take her. Then she would be his. For how long didn’t matter. She would be his, and she could hold the memory forever.

“Kiss me now.” He shifted so their lips could meet and Penny never had to stop stroking him. His free hand moved over hers, covering her as he took over. His tongue traced along her bottom lip, making her shiver.

She turned into him, letting her breasts rest against his chest. He made her feel delicate and feminine against his masculinity.

“Say you’ll stay with me.”

There was only one answer to that. “Yes.”

* * *

The minute Damon heard the word “yes” leave her lips, he was all over her. She’d said it. Penelope had given him permission, and now it was his turn. His cock was raging hard, ready to go off any second. He tore her hand away because he wasn’t going to come in her palm. He wanted to mark her, to make her remember exactly who she belonged to so she wouldn’t flirt with Lord Weston again.

He rolled her on her back, making a place for himself between her legs. So fucking soft. She was the damn softest thing he’d ever held. He looked down into those sky-blue eyes and nearly lost it.

He hadn’t lied to her. He’d always watched her, but she was the type of woman who should have a husband and children, who went to church on Sundays and always had supper ready. He had nothing to offer her. He couldn’t be that man, but she’d walked away from that kind of life the minute she’d told him yes.

He was a greedy bastard and she was a good thing.

One good thing. Sometimes that was all a man needed. She was smart, and after he’d trained her, she would be good in the field. A team. They would be a team and then he never had to leave his job, never had to go back to his pitiful existence.

He kissed her, letting his tongue plunge inside. He would make it good for her, take care of her, make her need him like she needed her next breath.

So she wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t betray him. So all that sweetness and light would be for him and him alone.

Sex would bind her to him. Sex would bring them closer together.

Sex would feel so bloody good.

Her arms wound around him, her legs spread wide. She was a feast and he was suddenly damn near starving.

He kissed his way down her neck, giving her little bites along the way. Every time he nipped her, she jumped a little, but he could see the way her eyes widened, first in shock and then a sultry acceptance dropped over her. She was relaxing, taking what he gave her and allowing it to grow in to hot desire.

He cupped her breasts. Soft, sweet breasts. The women he’d been around tended to be in the business, and they were either surgically enhanced or so physically fit there wasn’t an ounce of cushion on them. Not Penelope. Penelope was all woman, with curves and hips he could hold on to when he fucked her hard and long. He didn’t have to worry about breaking her.

That idiot fiancé of hers had been right. Penelope was strong. She gripped him and he felt it. Her nails sank into his skin. He doubted she even realized she was doing it. Little scratches against his skin. They would be there for hours, reminding him how hot he’d gotten her, how far gone she’d been. The way she clawed at him got him even hotter.

He tongued her nipples, moving from one to the other, softening her up. First something sweet, a suck and lick, and then he’d nip her, dragging that bud between his teeth and biting down, glorying in the way she gasped and moaned. She wriggled underneath him, and he could smell her.

God, he loved that smell. He couldn’t get it out of his head since the day before. Delicate but strong, like the woman herself.

He had to taste her. The bit he’d dragged off his own hands hadn’t been enough. He needed to get his tongue inside her, needed to spear her on it.

“Has anyone ever eaten your pussy before?” He growled the question against her tits, rubbing himself over the satin of her skin.

“What?”

He loved how out of breath she was, out of herself. When she let go, she was a sensual thing. So buttoned up and proper during the day, she turned into a sexy sub when he stripped her down. He dragged himself up so he was on his knees between her thighs, staring down at her. No one who looked at her in her shapeless cardies and bland skirts would ever imagine that she could look so fucking wanton. “Your pussy. You know that thing you never really thought about before? Has any man ever put his mouth on your cunt? Ever made a meal out of you? Ever fucked you long and hard with his tongue? For that matter, has any woman ever done it? I would love to hear that story, pet.”

He expected her to flush and she did, a pretty pink. Her ass would be lovely pink, too, but instead of turning away, she met him, amusement in her eyes. “No, Master. No lesbian loves in my past. And I believe you already know the answer to the other. Peter was fastidious. He wouldn’t try ethnic food, much less put his mouth on me there. On my pussy.”

Prat. Dumbass, as his American friends would call him. “I’m not fastidious.”

Her eyes went dreamy and one hand came up to cup his cheek. “No, you’re not. You’re dirty, Master. You’re a dirty, nasty man. You’re going to eat my pussy, aren’t you? You’ll do all those things you said.”

His cock jumped. Nasty words sounded somehow sweet coming out of her mouth. “Yeah. I’m going to do everything I promised.”

He looked down at her pussy. Plump. Ripe. Her labial lips were already wet with arousal. Her clitoris was poking out of its hood, all pearly and lovely in the early morning light. She was perfectly smooth. She’d done a damn fine job on herself. He could see her, working the razor over her flesh with the same care and caution she used when breaking a code or translating a document. She’d probably looked up how to do it, studied it so she would be perfect.

“I’m going to teach you. I’ll teach you how to be my sub, my perfect partner.” He let his finger run across the slit of his cock, gathering the pre-come. He rubbed it into her clit, wanting a piece of himself on her. Later, he would come all over her, rubbing it into her skin. He would come inside her and know she walked around with his come in her pussy.

He’d never had a permanent submissive, never collared one before, but she would wear every mark of his possession.

“Damon, you’re killing me.” Her hips wiggled, trying to force his finger to rub harder.

No time like the present. She wasn’t in charge. He’d meant to ease her into discipline, but that was before he’d realized how much she needed it. “I believe I told you to call me Master. Do you know what a safe word is?”

Her eyes flared. “Yes.”

“Pick one.”

“Master, I…” Something in his eyes must have told that beautiful brain of hers that this was another fight she couldn’t win because she nodded suddenly. “Penguin. It’s the first word that came to mind.”