Elevating Eve (Fairford Affairs #4)

8. Eve

CHAPTER 8

Eve

“ I f you want that hand to stay attached to your body, I suggest you remove it from her thigh.”

Eve shrieked in surprise, nearly falling off the white wrought iron bench when she whipped around. Jonathan was here. The plan had been in place for all of twenty seconds and he was already fucking here .

As for Camden, he hardly reacted at all, catching her with ease before leaning oh-so-casually against the bench’s back, legs spread wide. “Jonathan,” he said, his hand once again resting on her upper thigh. He grinned despite the threat of imminent bodily harm. “What a lovely surprise.”

“I’m not fucking around, Camden,” Jonathan practically growled, glaring at his longtime business partner and friend like a mortal enemy. “Get. Your hand. Off.”

Eve’s heart fluttered in her chest, even if this version of Jonathan scared her the tiniest bit. Thank God that fiery anger wasn’t directed at her.

Camden only grinned wider. “I believe the lady can say for herself who can and cannot touch her.” The bold son of a bitch even gave her leg a little squeeze.

The two men stared at each other for several tense seconds, the only sound the pounding of her heartbeat in her own ears. She could hardly fucking breathe.

Eve screamed again when Jonathan lurched forward, grabbing two fistfuls of Camden’s tight black T-shirt. Though the men were of a similar height, Camden easily had fifty pounds on Jonathan, all of it muscle. It wouldn’t be a contest if it came down to a fistfight.

The disparity didn’t even seem to cross Jonathan’s mind. He hauled the larger man off the bench as if he weighed nothing, dragging him several feet away. The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as Camden’s shirt ripped at the shoulder seams.

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Eve had no idea what to do. Camden told her to let whatever happened play out—that he could handle himself. But Jonathan looked ready to quite literally rip the man’s head off.

Enough. She had to stop this before things got out of hand. She opened her mouth to tell Jonathan the truth, but never got the chance.

“Eve is mine .” Jonathan was right up in Camden’s face, their noses nearly touching. “If you ever lay your hand on what’s mine again, I’ll fucking kill you. Do you understand me?”

Her heart beat so fast, she feared she might have a goddamn heart attack.

Mine.

That word reverberated in her head like the ring of a cathedral bell, clear and beautiful and endless.

Camden turned his head, throwing her a smug glance. “See? I told you it would work.”

The rage flickered in Jonathan’s dark eyes before going out completely. “Excuse me?” After a few seconds, he let go of Camden’s ruined shirt, backing up a step.

“She—” Camden started.

“Shut up,” Jonathan ordered, holding up a hand to stop him. He turned to face her, where she still sat huddled on the bench. “I want to hear this from you.”

She suddenly felt like a naughty student sent to the principal’s office. Unable to stop herself from squirming, she fixed her gaze on the severe line of his lips as she answered in a small voice. “I sent in an application last week. ”

Those furious lips parted as he drew in a sharp breath. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Because I couldn’t think of any other way to get your attention,” she admitted, mortification making every inch of her skin burn. “But you didn’t even notice.”

She risked a glance up at his eyes. The anger had disappeared, but she couldn’t read the new expression there.

“Zach told her you only took applications from the Fifty Shades Lite pile,” Camden said, smirking. “You know—the pile he normally has to force us to go through so he can send out the rejection letters. What’s that about?”

Jonathan kept his gaze locked with hers while he snarled, “I said shut up, and I fucking meant it.”

Clearly not remotely intimidated, Camden laughed. “It’s not her fault you’re oblivious. Can you blame the woman for taking matters into her own hands?”

Ignoring the other man completely, Jonathan continued to stare her down with that peculiar look in his eyes. “This was a set-up.”

It was a statement, not a question. Still, she felt compelled to respond. “Zach helped me come up with a plan. And Camden?—”

“I overheard their scheming and volunteered my services,” he interrupted proudly. “I’m all for delayed gratification, but this is extreme, brother.”

“Fuck you,” Jonathan said, giving Camden a hard look. “You’ve never delayed your gratification once in your life.”

Camden grinned in response. “You wound me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my guest. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about. Also, you owe me a new shirt.” He sauntered out of the alcove and toward the main house as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

God, she envied his confidence. She’d never felt that sure of herself for even one second in her entire life.

Least of all right now. Something very close to panic coursed through her as she tried—and failed—to make herself meet Jonathan’s eyes again.

The silence between them dragged out, making her even more nervous. She’d give anything to know what he was thinking right now but was far too terrified to ask.

At long last, he stepped slowly toward her, coming to a stop right at the edge of the bench, one of his legs nestled between her thighs, forcing them to spread. “Look at me,” he said, cupping her chin in his hand.

She didn’t resist as he tilted her head back, finally daring to look into his eyes. Anger still lingered there, making her wince. But something far more powerful waited beneath it—a lust that made her blood feel like liquid fire in her veins.

Mine. She remembered the way he’d said the word, like he would fight whoever dared challenge his claim.

Like he was sure he would win.

“Jonathan—” she started.

“You will refer to me as Sir during our scenes. Do you understand?”

Holy fuck. She needed a new pair of panties.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl. Now answer these questions for me as honestly and succinctly as possible. If someone other than me had seen your application and approached you, what would you have done?”

“Told them the truth,” she answered simply. “I only want you.”

The lust flared in his eyes, overpowering the anger. “Do you know where your application is right now?”

“Zach has it.”

“What did you choose as your safeword?”

She held up her hand, wiggling her finger until the square-cut gem caught a beam of sunlight. “Emerald.”

“You’re not officially a guest at this resort. So I need you to grant your permission to do whatever I please to you for the rest of the night unless you use your safeword.”

Eve squirmed on the hard bench. She’d need new jeans, too. “Yes, Sir, you have my permission.”

Letting go of her chin, Jonathan took her hands in his, pulling her to her feet. The hardness in his eyes softened as he looked down at her. “You can use your safeword for anything when you’re with me.” A new kind of urgency had entered his voice. “If you want to stop for literally any reason, no matter how big or small, you have the right to stop. Always. I won’t be mad. I won’t give you the silent treatment. I’ll never treat your decision to end a scene with anything other than respect. Do you understand?”

At some point as he spoke, she’d stopped breathing. She didn’t even remember doing it. Drawing air into her lungs, she tried desperately not to cry. You’re fucking perfect. Refusing to let those words pass her lips, she instead said, “Yes, Sir, I understand.”

“Good girl. Follow me.” With that, he turned and moved out of the alcove with long, swift strides, and she had to run to catch up. Even once she walked right behind him, her much shorter legs required two steps for every one of his.

He led them on the quickest path to the main patio doors, hardly even slowing as he pulled open one of the French doors and continued inside. Eve carefully shut the door behind her, not wanting to damage the glass, then scurried to catch up again.

When they emerged from the back hallway, Jonathan finally stopped, turning to face her at the base of the stairs. “Stay here,” he ordered, then crossed the lobby to the reception desk. He held out his hand without a word.

Eyes shining with amusement, Zach pulled her application out of a desk drawer and handed it over. “Enjoy,” he said, his usual half-smile becoming a straight-up grin.

With a low, furious huff, Jonathan turned and strode back to her, each step on the marble tiles echoing in the high-ceilinged room. Taking hold of her hand, he led her around the staircase and down the hallway, past multiple rooms she’d never entered. The dining room, billiard room, and formal parlor flashed by so fast, she hardly got to look at them. Only the study and bathroom were familiar to her.

When at last he stopped, they stood before the final door in the corridor—the only one with a keypad above the handle. Jonathan hit six numbers so fast, she only caught the first two. When he hit the large lock symbol at the bottom, the door unlocked with a soft clicking sound.

As soon as he pulled the door open, a low, sensuous beat drifted up the stairs from below, loud enough to vibrate in her chest. Man, this place didn’t fuck around when it came to their soundproofing. No wonder the guests never complained about early morning construction noise.

Still grasping her hand, Jonathan led her slowly down the stairs, careful not to tug her forward and make her fall.

“Oh my God,” Eve gasped when they reached the room below. Her eyes widened until they couldn’t go any farther.

“Have you ever been in a dungeon before?”

She raked her gaze over the enormous, gray-walled room. She had no clue what most of the stuff in here was even called, but she had no trouble figuring out the purpose of it all.

Pleasure and pain. In a place like this, the two would be so deeply intertwined that it would be impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

It took her several seconds to find her voice. “No, Sir.”

“Are you afraid?”

Her gaze snapped up to meet his. She stood a little taller. “No, Sir.”

His lips spread into a slow smile that set a whole slew of butterflies fluttering in her stomach. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. With that ridiculous jawline, the hair so perfectly styled she felt sure she’d never be brave enough to touch it, and by God those cheekbones...the man belonged on billboards or movie screens, not here.

Definitely not with her, of all people.

Not that Eve thought she wasn’t pretty. She’d never had any trouble attracting the opposite sex. In fact, Frank used to get so jealous of the way the crew looked at her that he forced her to wear all those baggy clothes on jobsites. But she was still a sort-of-unemployed construction worker. And the man standing before her was like a literal god.

“What are you thinking?” Jonathan asked, cupping her face between both hands.

“That you’re way out of my league,” she admitted.

He laughed, the sound low and rich and delicious. “Quite the opposite, I think.” Eve wanted to argue, but he didn’t give her the chance. “Raise your arms above your head.”

Her pussy clenched as she followed his instructions.

“Good girl. Now don’t move.” Letting her application drop to the floor, he pulled her T-shirt up, lifting it free of her arms before dropping it next to the packet of paper. Approval filled his eyes as he ran a single finger down the satin strap of her bra, then across the top edge of the crimson lace. “So sexy,” he murmured, brushing the pad of his thumb over her nipple until it hardened. “Not at all what I expected to find.”

In truth, her usual undergarments were a hell of a lot more practical. No point in getting all dressed up just to get sweaty and filthy at work. But ever since she mailed in her application, she’d chosen one of her sexier lingerie sets each morning. She even tried her hardest not to be so hands on with the build, just in case.

She was grateful for that foresight now that she stood half-naked before him.

“I wore it for you,” she said, drawing in a sharp breath when he rolled her nipple between two fingers. “I’m glad you like it.”

Humming appreciatively, he slid his hand down her bare belly, making her shiver as goosebumps erupted across her skin. He didn’t stop when he reached the waistband of her jeans, moving lower, dropping to his knees in a single, lithe movement. His hands went to her left work boot, tugging at the laces.

“Oh shit, please don’t,” she said, blushing furiously, wishing she had the nerve to back away.

His hands halted, and he looked up at her with a small frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I take my shoes and socks off myself, please?” A moment later, she added, “Sir?”

Frown deepening slightly, he asked, “Why?”

“These boots are almost a year old,” she said, hoping he’d get the hint.

No dice. His brows pulled together in confusion.

“I work in them at least five days a week. Getting all dirty and sweaty and stuff.” If she blushed any hotter, she’d be able to fry an egg on her forehead.

At least he didn’t need her to explain any further. “Do you really think I’d care about that?” he said, censure in his voice.

In fact, she couldn’t think of anything that would ruin the scene faster than him getting a whiff of that. But she couldn’t bring herself to admit it out loud. “It’s not exactly sexy,” she said instead.

“You’re wrong.” He looked up so she could see the truth in his eyes. “Do you have any idea how sexy you are when you’re out there working?”

Eve snorted. She couldn’t help herself. “Oh, I’m sure.”

He snaked a hand around her hip, giving her ass a single firm smack. Even through her Levis, it hurt. “Watch the tone,” he admonished, before he got back to work on her shoelace.

Removing the boot with as much care as the prince gave to Cinderella’s glass slipper, he peeled her sock off and tossed it aside. Mere moments later, he did the same on the other foot.

“Now,” he said, hands running up the outsides of her legs. They drifted inward at her waist, moving to the button of her jeans. “To respond to your sarcastic comment.” He slipped the button through the hole, then lowered the zipper so slowly that she almost grabbed his hand and forced him to go faster. “You’re extremely smart and skilled. Everyone around you looks to you as the top expert in virtually every situation. You practically fucking glow with confidence when you’re working. Why wouldn’t I find that sexy?”

Eve’s heart melted more with each word. Could he possibly mean it? Frank had certainly used her skills and expertise to his advantage, but he never once acted turned on by it. Quite the opposite, in fact. After a long day at work, he’d complain the whole way home about how dirty and smelly she was, insisting that she get right in the shower the moment they arrived.

When Jonathan’s fingers dipped below her waistband, pushing her jeans over her hips and down her legs, her ex flew from her thoughts. His short fingernails scraped ever so lightly against her skin as he lowered the denim, making her shiver with delight.

Any second now, she’d finally be fucking Jonathan Hale. After so many months of wanting him, if he dragged this out much longer, she’d explode.

Jonathan helped her step out of her jeans, shoving them aside with the rest of her clothes. Then he leaned back on his heels, looking her up and down .

She preened a little bit, her back arching, breasts jutting out. She couldn’t help it. This was her favorite bra and panty set, all skimpy satin strings and lace in the sexiest red imaginable. It made her feel a little bit wicked—a feeling she didn’t often get to enjoy.

“You look good enough to eat,” he said, lust making his voice raspier than normal. Leaning forward, he grabbed her hips with both hands, his fingertips digging painfully into the flesh of her ass. Before she knew what he was doing, he’d pressed his face against the front of her panties, breathing deeply.

“Oh my God,” she gasped out, her legs shaky. Without thinking, she buried her hands in his perfect hair, holding onto him for dear life as his tongue darted out, pushing her panties against her clit. Her breaths came faster and faster as he continued teasing the tiny bundle of nerves, the rough scrape of lace feeling like fucking heaven.

Just when she thought for sure she’d come, he pulled away, looking up at her with smug satisfaction in his eyes. “Are you ready for your punishment?”

She squeaked in surprise, her hands dropping to her sides. “You’re punishing me?” It came out rushed and breathless. Every muscle in her body screamed for the release he denied her, while her mind raced with new fears. Was he angry at her? Would this hurt?

Not the good hurt, like what she saw out by the pool. The Frank kind of hurt.

Standing, Jonathan cupped her face between his hands, waiting until she met his gaze to speak. “Remember that you have your safeword. Nothing is going to happen without your consent.” He brushed his thumbs along her cheekbones, the touch featherlight. “And a punishment from me isn’t what you’re thinking right now. I want to make you feel good, Eve. Better than you’ve ever felt in your life.”

With a few slow breaths, she forced her racing thoughts and pounding heart to calm. This wasn’t Frank. She could trust him.

Standing as tall as she could, she gave him a sweet, angelic smile. “Wouldn’t you rather skip right to the fun part?” she asked, figuring it was worth a shot. “I’m not even sure I’ve earned a punishment.”

“You most certainly have,” he said with a low chuckle. “And you’re not the only one.” Jonathan pulled his cell out of his pocket, tapping away at the screen for several seconds. Once he finished, he turned the phone around for her to see.

The text conversation had the name Remy Levene at the top. The small, circular picture showed the Manor’s event planner with his arms wrapped around Zach.

Today 5:14 PM

Your fiancé deserves one hell of a punishment for the shit he pulled today

FFS. What did he do now?

Ask him what I’m pissed about

I’m sure the fucker will be happy to tell you all about it

This should be good

“How else was I supposed to make this happen?” she said, hearing more than a little whine in her voice. She didn’t want a punishment right now—even the kind he just described. She wanted him to finish what he started before she came apart at the seams.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He pocketed the phone, then retrieved her application from the floor. Taking her hand in his, he led her deeper into the dungeon. “You could have—and I’m just spitballing here—talked to me about it.”

Eve huffed out an annoyed breath. “Okay, fair, but every time I tried you changed the subject.”

“Probably should’ve tried harder, then,” he said, stopping in front of something that looked almost like a massage table, with the face rest for her head if she were to lie on it facedown. The “table” part was shorter and narrower than a real massage table, though, and four smaller padded platforms protruded halfway down the metal legs.

Placing her application on top of a nearby cabinet full of supplies, Jonathan watched her and waited. Gratitude flowed through her that he would let the scene move at her pace.

It took a solid ten seconds longer than it should have for her to figure out what this was. “Oh,” she said, unable to think of anything else to say. Though her body still longed for release, a new heat spread from her core when she pictured herself strapped to this contraption, her ass sticking out and awaiting punishment.

“Your pupils just dilated. You want me to bend you over this spanking bench, don’t you?” His low voice rolled over her like distant thunder, making the hair on her arms stand on end. “You want to know what it feels like to submit to me.”

“Yes, Sir, I do,” she said, practically panting with need.

Without another word, he guided her into place, her torso stretched across the main padded platform and her face gently cradled in the soft, cushioned face rest. He arranged her arms and legs on the four lower platforms, securing her in place with multiple nylon straps. He cinched the straps so tight, she couldn’t move at all.

Her heart pounded away like the rapid-fire beat of a snare drum. Eve always knew she was different. That she longed for things most other people didn’t—things she didn’t even fully know how to define herself. All she knew was that without at least some pain, she couldn’t lose herself in pleasure. Her body would remain unsatisfied, demanding more.

She thought she found what she needed in her last relationship, at least at first. But now she knew how profoundly wrong she’d been.

Eve had never felt like this before. Never felt like every nerve in her body was on high alert, soaking in more sensation than she ever knew possible.

Looping two fingers beneath the satin strings of her panties, Jonathan pulled them down with agonizing slowness, forcing her to feel just how wet they were as they slid down her legs. He left the scraps of satin and lace there around her knees, and she had no idea why that turned her on so much .

“I’m gonna die,” she said, not sure if she was complaining or thanking him.

“Only if you’re very lucky,” he answered. Seconds later, the sound of rustling paper reached her ears.

The application. He was finally taking a proper look at her hard and soft limits.

Please don’t be disappointed.

“Oh, Eve,” he said after a full two minutes. “You and I are going to be fucking perfect together.”

When Jonathan brought the end of a riding crop down on her ass a second later, she burst into tears. Not because it hurt too much. But because it hurt more perfectly than anything she’d ever felt in her life.

“Do you want to use your safeword?” he asked, concern filling his voice.

“Oh God, I’ll die if you stop now,” she forced out through her tears. “Please give me more. Please. ”

“That’s my girl,” Jonathan said, striking twice more, one right after the other. “Let yourself feel it. This is what your body needs.”

Closing her eyes, she focused on the sensations coursing through her as the crop continued to fall. Eve pulled against the straps, needing to feel them bite into her skin.

She didn’t just want to know that she couldn’t escape. She wanted to feel it.

Once every inch of her ass was on fire, Jonathan moved down to her thighs, the new pain taking her breath away. Jesus fuck, it hurt so good .

A flurry of sharp slaps to her sit spots made her scream, though she didn’t remember deciding to do so. “Please!” Her sobs drew the word out into several syllables. “I need you. I need you so much.”

The riding crop hit the floor with a loud clatter. Seconds later, she felt the thick head of his cock press against her entrance.

His hands grasped her hips, his fingers pressing against her pelvic bone enough to hurt. “You’re mine.” It was a declaration. A claiming. A promise.

Then he rammed his hips forward, pushing into her so deep and so fast that she screamed again, certain she’d just been split in two. Rocking back, he slid most of the way out of her, then pushed forward again, no gentler than the first stroke. This time, though, her pussy accepted him gratefully, even greedily. She clenched her internal muscles, never wanting to feel empty again.

Little good did it to her. Jonathan started up a steady rhythm after that, pumping in and out of her, slamming the tops of her thighs against the edge of the main platform with bruising force. He hadn’t even undressed before taking her. The teeth of his zipper dug into her punished bottom with each thrust, making her hiss at the exquisite pain.

So good. So fucking good. Pleasure built up inside her like a colossal wave, rolling higher and higher. She didn’t know how much more she could take before it all came crashing down.

“Come for me, Eve,” Jonathan said, tilting his hips, pushing into her at a slightly different angle.

That was all it took. Her orgasm exploded from her center, pulsing through her, making every muscle in her body seize. Jonathan followed her moments later, his scream blending with hers, together rising above the constant beat of the music.

When at last the final aftershocks subsided, Eve sagged against the spanking bench, her arms and legs feeling almost numb, her skin tingly and damp with sweat.

Not once, for even a moment, had she imagined sex could feel this fucking good. “Please, Sir,” she panted, still trying to catch her breath. “Please tell me we don’t have to wait long before we can do that again.”