Empire of Dominance

Chapter 6 : Dangerous Passion

As Leo Baugh bought her her second shot, Raven knew going undercover might be going a bit too far.

She was wearing her tightest, reddest party dress, resurrected from her undergrad days, only a few months before. It was easy enough to get into Leo Braugh's company calendar via the official intranet, to find out he was heading to this club and when.

He had no idea who she was, of course. Up until two weeks ago, she'd been a nobody barely dipping a toe in at the lowest rung of his company. And now, she, Sharon, and Andre barely saw anyone other than each other, Megan, and Kade at work.

Kade.

She tried not to let her mind wander back to the serious weight of his stare… the way it rooted you, commanded you. Or maybe, she should let her mind drift to him. After all, she was doing this for him. For his approval.

Leo Braugh, senior associate at Kade's own company, slipped an arm around her waist, letting his sweaty palm wander lower to her thigh. She let him.

He was getting drunk with her at this velvet-and-neon dance club, where HE'D approached her as she was still trying to plan her approach. He'd moved on from beer to cocktails to shots, two of which she'd had to join him for. She'd played along, teasing and shying away, letting him pursue her.

And it worked. As Leo got drunker and drunker, he got more and more talkative.

Within an hour, she knew every single one of her suspicions were correct. In fact, he was bragging about it, as if he'd only been waiting for an opportunity to congratulate himself. All she'd had to do was mention how nice his suit looked. Did he work downtown?

“Sinclair and Associates," he drawled, slurring. “Want another shot? I can afford it. Trust me. Anything you want, honeybear."

Honeybear, she thought, masking her disbelieving smirk with a blank, flirtatious smile. That was probably what he called his wife. But she wouldn't point out the slip. After all, she was just another drunk girl at the bar.

The only problem: she couldn't leave. It would be such an obvious tip off if she left right after he'd finished spilling sensitive information about Sinclair and Associates and his under-the-table dealings.

She had to stick out the rest of the night, even after he'd moved on to describing, in agonizing detail, how his high-class sports car was molded out to make it more-or-less street safe, so he could drive it to the beach.

Then he decided he wanted to dance with her. As they stepped out onto the dance floor, she thought, at least dancing meant she couldn't hear him talk anymore. But Leo danced close—way too close, grinding on her like an overgrown frat boy. He ran his hand up her thigh, and she suppressed a shudder, remembering why she was here. Who she was here for.

It was hard to shake Leo at closing time. As the houselights went on, she had a fleeting moment of worry. Would he recognize her in the full, frank light? But no. Leo was barely on his feet, face red and greased with sweat. She'd had to dance and drink and talk with him all night—but she'd got what she came for in the end.

“I'll get the cab," Leo slurred, slinging his arm awkwardly around her waist.

“Not today, honey," she cooed, gently sliding free. “It's a bad time of the month for me. Sorry."

“I don't mind."

Raven let out a girlish giggle. “I do."

She heard the drunken clumsiness in her own voice, hoping the irritation didn't show through. She'd gotten this far. She couldn't let the act slip, even if she could feel all those vodka shots whirling her off balance.

“Can I have your number?"

“Listen, honey, it was fun. But let's not make too big a thing out of it." She steeled herself and planted a kiss on his damp cheek. “Let's just leave it at that."

But when he was finally gone, she stood shakily in the dark, at a loss.

Her phone was at two percent. It would be dead before she could order a rideshare herself, and there wasn't an actual taxi in sight. It was far too late to be walking around the city, drunk and mostly naked in this very short dress.

If she called Andre or Sharon, they'd be here in a flash, but she couldn't lie to them about why she was there.

Damn it. Who could she call besides…

She dialed the number she knew by heart almost immediately. She'd seen it on the company database the other day—well, the database hidden behind five false companies.

Two rings, as the line connected.

“What?" said Kade's voice into her ear.

“It's Raven."

There was a beat—a stone-cold sliver of silence that said clearly this was not the voice he expected to hear.

“Don't use this number," he said sternly.

Raven swallowed and tried to choke down her hesitancy. “Kade. I need help."

Maybe he heard something in her voice—the last-ditch desperation, the urgency of what she'd uncovered, or just the fact that she'd used his name.

“Talk," said the deep voice on the other end of the line.

“I followed Leo Braugh tonight."

“You WHAT?"

She'd never heard him raise his voice before. Never heard so much as a sliver of emotion.

“He went to a club. We talked, he bought drinks…" She was losing the thread. “Kade, he told me everything. We've got him."

“Do you have any idea of the danger you've put yourself in? They could be watching you, right now."

“I know the risks I'm taking."

Her tongue felt clumsy. What was he talking about? Who were 'they'?

“You are risking your life, Raven. You understand that, don't you?"

“It's my life. My risk."

“Wrong," he growled. “It is not your life. You are an asset of this company, with vital and unrecorded information."

“If I'm so vital, then come and pick me up," she dared.

She was drunk; she was reckless. But man, she felt fearless.

Finally, he said, “Where are you?"

***

The limo pulled up mere minutes later. He'd sent his car, she realized. She felt a little… what? Abandoned? Let down? She'd hoped… But after all that, he hadn't come. He'd just sent a car.

A driver came around the front of the limo, and she controlled her expression as he opened the limo door. She slid in dizzily, automatically. It occurred to her that she was being reckless, that it could be anybody in this limo. But in the soft light of the interior, she saw a familiar pair of dark, dark eyes.

The limo rolled into motion. Where were they going? But of course, he probably knew where she lived. He probably knew every damn thing about her. Nothing was a secret from him.

“Good evening," said Kade, looking down at her.

She felt the sweat of the dance floor go cold on her skin. She sat up on the smooth leather bench opposite him, crossing her ankles and trying to look any kind of dignified.

“You came."

“An astute observation."

Raven wanted to laugh—but it was impossible to laugh at this man. He was dressed in a button-up and slacks, both logoed with luxury brands. In one steady hand, he hoisted a crystal-cut glass of amber whiskey.

“Don't mock me," she fired back. “I was here for you."

It was important that he understood that. Somehow, it was desperately important.

“I didn't ask you to come here," he noted.

That was just too rich. “Call me a self-motivated employee," she fired back.

Again, that subtle shadow of a smile. Just the barest suggestion.

“Why did you call me?" Kade asked.

“Isn't it obvious?" She wanted to slap him, to laugh at him, to kneel to him. “Don't you realize the kind of effect you have on people? On… me?"

“Effect?" He leaned forward, whiskey stones clinking in his glass. “What kind of effect is that?"

She opened her mouth, having no idea what she was going to say, when the heavy pressure of his hand landed on her thigh. Her breath caught, snagged in surprise and desire and alarm. His palm pressed, cupping the curve of her thigh. Masterful. Determined.

Was this really happening? Could it be? But oh god, she wanted him. She'd known it in her gut but now the deep want surged through her, and she bit her lip to keep back an anticipating groan.

Kade leaned forward, inch by inch, and as he leaned, his hand slid flat up and up and up her thigh. His fingers slipped under the tight hem of her dress. Her very short dress.

Her breath was getting faster. His face was inches away, utterly cool and expressionless.

“This kind of effect, Miss Cannon?"

He pushed the dress upward with agonizing slowness. Maybe he liked listening to the quick, tortured draw of her breath as she struggled not to moan aloud, as her throat tightened and her head tilted back, half trying to deny, to delay, and half urging.

“Answer me when I'm speaking to you, Miss Cannon."

“Yes," she managed as his fingertips pressed closer, under the insignificant strap of her lace panties.

Kade flexed his hand, drawing out a low groan from Raven's throat as the elastic tightened against her c**t. He was toying with her. It was torment. It was wonderful.

Raven forced herself to lower her chin, to look at Kade full in the face. She knew her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted around sharp breaths.

There was that shadow of a smile. But now it was different, clearer, sharper. She could read the hunger in it clear as day.

“You think you know me?"

His breath rushed whiskey-hot against her face.

“No, I—"

Her breath choked back as she felt his palm sliding between her thighs. She meant to press them together, to slow all this down. His fingertips were almost… But she felt her muscles loosening instead, telling a truth she couldn't muster.

But this was her boss, the CEO… This was Kade Sinclair. The man she would never, never disappoint.

She tried to speak, but her voice shuddered to another groan as his fingers skimmed her swollen c**t. He must have felt how wet she was. She could feel it herself, as he planted his palm low on her abdomen, holding her in place.

“You want to know me?"

The question was toneless.

“Yes. Oh, yes…"

Then his thumb stroked her exactly in the right spot, and she arched against the pressure of his palm. Tight, rioting pleasure tided through her limbs. He stroked her, teasing her c**t, inching her toward ecstasy.

She felt the heat of his breath, so close against her lips.

“Hold this."

An order. She felt the freezing whiskey glass pressed into her hand, and she gripped it dutifully. A second later, his hand fastened in her hair, pulling back hard, catching her in delicious tension between his hand between her legs and the knuckles pressed into her scalp.

“Here's what you need to know about me, Raven."

And his fingers rammed into her, four at once, shoving deep. Raven gasped for air between thrusts, but her body was far ahead of her. She felt her knees rise, spreading, urging. And he obliged, the force of his thrusts splitting through her as he held her pinioned upright.

“This is who I am. I won't love you. I'll just f**k you."

He hit her G spot like a ram, and she let out a strangled cry. She was going to c*m soon, she couldn't possibly hold all this pleasure…

“I don't feel. I don't have emotions like other men. And I will always protect what's mine."

Each push shoved all the breath out of her, her thighs rising and shuddering. It took all her will not to drop the whiskey, not to gnash her teeth and howl.

“Ahhh—"

A tremor of sound was all she could manage as the pleasure crested, unbearable, and she felt herself c*m all over Kade Sinclair's hand.

Her body slumped into the seat, shuddering. She gasped for air as he pulled his fingers free. Her dress was way up past her hips, her lacy underwear torn at the crotch. She hadn't noticed. The hot waves of pleasure kicked through her, leaving her wordless and crumpled.

Kade tilted her face toward his, nose to nose, his other hand still firm in her hair.

“Now you know me."

His face was a somehow still that cool and expressionless mask. His eyes looked away, unhurried, to the whiskey glass as he pulled it from her with his free hand.

“Is that someone you could be with?"

It was an easy answer. She breathed a cracked and pleading, “Yes."

“Good. And it appears you spilled my whiskey."

“S-Sorry."

He lifted the glass from her hand. Then, all of a sudden, he smashed it down on the limo floor.

“Now. I think you might like to see my penthouse. Don't you?"

“Y-Yes."

There was no other possible answer. Her skin, her nerves, her blood were all on fire for him. Every inch of her pulsed for his touch again.

But his face showed nothing. Nothing at all.

“I thought so. I also think I might know how to kill the time, on the way there… Come here, Miss Cannon."

He gestured toward his lap, wrapping his other arm firmly around her waist. He drew her effortlessly onto his lap, so she was sitting with her back resting against his firm, powerful chest, his breath hot in her hair.

She felt the movement of his hand under her, and there was an agony of waiting as she held her breath for his touch again…

But instead she heard the small sound of a zipper opening.

One of his strong hands pressed against the base of her throat—not hard, not choking. Just holding. He must be able to feel how short her breaths were, the small wanting sounds that boiled up from her lips.

His c**k pressed, rock hard, against her still-wet cunt, rubbing, teasing. Raven whined, gritting her teeth as her body begged, her c**t pulsing. Kade Sinclair—her boss, her CEO—had a f*****g huge c**k. She wiggled and arched, pleading silently.

He breathed a whisper-quiet order into her ear. “Don't scream, Miss Cannon."

His hand adjusted his c**k, shifting it so the tip pressed just so, so slightly, into her. She leaned her head back, breathing hard, waiting, waiting. She would die from waiting…

And he pressed her down, shoving deep inside her with a brutal, decisive thrust.

She turned her scream into a strangled whine at the last minute. His hips thrust under her, once, twice, faster, and he crushed into her with such force she felt her eyes unfocus and her vision blur. She'd never felt a c**k this big, never been so utterly and viciously possessed. He was igniting her, shaking her apart, dragging her closer and closer again to the edge of unbearable pleasure.

Then all at once he pulled out, turning and pushing her away onto the opposite bench. Her cunt flexed, wanting, missing the sudden lack of him inside her.

“We're here, Miss Cannon," Kade said coolly.

A moment later, she felt the limo slow gently to a stop. She covered herself quickly, her heart running a million miles a minute.

“Let me show you inside."