When I'm With You: The Complete Novel Read online

  “To your person?” she laughed.

  “To my peace of mind. You’re like a thorn in a man’s flesh,” he muttered. “But none of that matters now. You walked in here today, and as I said, I think you were telling me something significant by doing that. Don’t you?”

  She found it hard to meet his steady stare. “Maybe,” she conceded breathlessly.

  “I’m not asking you to leave. If you go, it’ll be by your choice.”

  Something about his honesty helped her find her courage. “You must know I’m attracted to you as well. I have been for as long as I can remember,” she admitted shakily.

  His body jerked slightly. He caught himself and remained unmoving. For a split second, she thought he was going to straighten and . . . do something. Hold her?

  “I will be the one to set the rules, Elise,” he said instead.

  “Why?” she asked, back to being bewildered.

  “Because it’s in my nature to be the dominant during sex.”

  She just stared at him. A frisson of excitement went through her belly and flickered between her thighs.

  “Surely you know about such proclivities?” he prompted.

  She swallowed thickly. Yes, she knew. Not by direct experience. Typically, Elise liked to be the one to call the shots. Not in a dominatrix manner. It’s just that she typically got her own way, and that included sexual interaction. What Lucien said had struck her as both alien and exciting at once.

  “Of course I do,” she blustered, trying to hide her confusion. She didn’t want him to think she was naïve, but well . . . she was, in many ways. Most of the people who considered her the irrepressible, wild coquine would be shocked to know just how inexperienced she was.

  “It’s very simple. You’re very beautiful. I want you. It would give me great pleasure to see you submit, for once in your life. You require discipline,” he said firmly, his mouth curving into a god-awful sexy smile. “Besides, if you are determined to stay in Chicago, I want you close.”

  “So you can keep tabs on me? Keep me in line?” she asked, insulted.

  “Yes, to be honest.”

  Their eyes met and he sobered. “And if we are to see each other, I will be the one to call the shots. Do you agree to this? Can you give up control to me?”

  She bit her lip uncertainly. “Will this be an exclusive arrangement?”

  “Yes. I won’t be sexually involved with another woman for the time period we are together. I expect sexual fidelity from you as well. In fact, I demand it,” he said in a harder tone with a pointed glance.

  Her heart seemed to have swelled past its typical confines and was pressing into her throat. “And just how do you plan on keeping me in line?” she managed sarcastically, still insulted by his insinuation that he wanted to engage in this relationship to control her while she was in Chicago.

  “At the moment? I will spank you by hand.”

  She noticed him studying her reaction closely and strained for a neutral expression. He heart gave up pretending, however, and started running a race in her chest cavity.

  “As I said, even though you may not have been entirely aware of it, I believe that’s why you came here. I want you to know that I won’t put up with your manipulation. I will punish you every time you defy me in the future. I will punish you every time I see you engaging in impulsive or unsafe behaviors. I will discipline you every time you lie to me.”

  Nothing could have prepared her for what he’d said. The word punishment took on layers of new meaning when uttered in Lucien’s low, sexy voice . . . dark, forbidden, exciting complexities. Part of her was shocked, and yet another part wasn’t surprised at all.

  She laughed incredulously, even though panic started to rise in her as she observed his calm, unruffled manner.

  “You’re flipping mad,” she breathed out, hiding her bewilderment.

  He regarded her through a hooded gaze.

  “Those are my terms. I have told you that I want you. But I won’t have you running amok in my life if you plan to live in Chicago. One, I don’t need the drama. Two, I couldn’t abide witnessing it.” Her breath caught when she heard the emotion ringing in his compelling voice. “If your spoiled, oversexed mother was too weak to teach you to control yourself, and your father was too self-involved to bother, then someone has to do it. When you strutted into this restaurant today like you owned the place, you made that someone me.

  “Now unfasten your pants and lower them, then lean against my desk,” he continued, his matter-of-fact manner only amplifying the surreal sensation fogging her brain. He couldn’t be serious. He wanted to spank her? Lucien Sauvage? “You can go if you choose,” he said, not unkindly, when he noticed that she didn’t move and continued to stare at him in disbelief. “We won’t do this thing unless you are in full agreement.”

  “That’s blackmail,” she whispered.

  “No. You are not my employee, Elise. I have never offered you a job. I have never offered you anything but this relationship, which will be carried out by my rules, and mine alone. You pushed yourself in here. This isn’t about blackmail or harassment. This is about what you need; what I think you were asking for marching in here uninvited today. If you plan to live here in Chicago, if you are to be in my life, I will not allow you to manipulate and defy me. You will receive the discipline you require—and if I sense that you submit, there will be pleasure as well. If you can’t agree to that, then there’s the door.”

  She didn’t move. She couldn’t.

  He nodded once, seeing that she’d made her decision. Elise realized dazedly that she had, indeed, decided. He turned and walked over to a large antique cabinet. He opened one of the doors and she glimpsed an expensive stereo. Suddenly, the sounds of Beethoven’s rich, penetrating fifth symphony filled the air. She stared at Lucien stupidly as he returned to her.

  “Do as I told you,” he said, not unkindly.

  She glanced once at the door and back at him. His face was hard, but she saw something in his eyes—not gentleness, necessarily, but compassion . . . understanding that this was not an easy thing he was asking of her, but that he asked it anyway.

  “I hate you, Lucien Sauvage,” she said as she began to unfasten her pants, the hissing sound of her voice barely rising above the swell of the music.

  He nodded once matter-of-factly. “But you will still do as I say.”

  She jerked down her pants as a defiant reply.

  “Lean over the desk,” he said.

  Her held breath burned in her lungs and blistered her throat as she did what he said. She’d never been punished before. She’d never voluntarily given up control to a man. This was an entirely new experience. She couldn’t believe she was allowing it to happen. What did it mean, that she was? Anger, bewilderment, and excitement twined in her and tightened around her lungs. Her breath hitched when Lucien stepped closer.

  Something hot and forbidden surged through her pussy. She felt his hand at her hip. His long fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear. A tendril of excitement flickered through her clit.

  “Do you have to?” she asked shakily as she felt him lower her panties.

  “Always,” was his reply. He released the skimpy underwear and it bunched next to her pants at her knees. She squeezed her eyes tight when she felt him lift her chef’s smock, fully baring her to his gaze. Mortification swept through her. Lucien would never believe it if she told him—so she didn’t say a word—but she wasn’t used to such intense intimacy.

  She trembled with excitement when Lucien’s hand brushed against the sensitive skin of her right buttock. He cupped the flesh and squeezed. Liquid heat rushed through her pussy, the strength of her response confusing her. It was as if her body had a mind of its own. Her brain certainly hadn’t given her permission to find his possessive touch on her ass so arousing.

  “You’re lovely. I will find it exciting to punish you. Very,” he murmured. “You may find it arousing as well, but it will also sting. That
’s the consequence of your behavior. Even though I will enjoy this, today it will only be a punishment. As I mentioned, we will take things at my pace.”

  She turned her chin. He saw her bewildered expression.

  “We won’t be having sex after I finish,” he explained patiently. “That will come another time.”

  She listened to all of this in anxious amazement.

  “Elise?” he prompted. “Am I making myself clear?

  “Yes,” she croaked.

  “I will spank you with my hand twenty times. It will burn, but you need never fear that I will cause you any lasting harm. It isn’t my intention, now or ever, to harm you. Do you understand?”

  No, she didn’t understand. She couldn’t comprehend anything that was happening. Why was she letting him do this to her?

  Discipline. Need.

  She recalled him saying those words last night and bit her lip, her anticipation more acute than she’d ever experienced in her life. Was it true? Was that the reason she’d come on her flagrantly rebellious mission today? Hadn’t he hinted what would happen if she stayed with him last night?

  And she’d returned, determined to provoke him . . . into this?

  “Elise?” he prompted.

  “Yes, I understand,” she said in a choked voice.

  He lifted his hand from her ass.

  Smack.

  She whimpered at the burst of sensation. He spanked her again, a brisk slap of skin against skin, and her eyes sprang wide.

  Oh. It stung, but it was also exciting to feel Lucien’s hand come into contact with her bottom, that quick flash of sensation. It was intimate, too, something about the secretiveness of what he was doing here in the midst of a business—the fact that she was letting him do something so personal to her, so illicit—was also thrilling.

  She stared sightlessly at the blotter. His hand landed again and she suppressed a gasp, not of pain, but of an incendiary emotion she couldn’t name or control. It was as if his spanks were causing some friction in her, forcing something to the surface with his blows that she’d rather keep buried. He paused with his hand on her, his light caress almost as volatile as his punishment.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” she grated out, hoping he heard the anger in her voice and not the other bewildering feelings brewing in her chest.

  He spanked her again. She bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. He knew what he was doing. His slaps were quick and brisk, meant to sting, not bruise or harm. He smacked her on the lower curve of her right buttock twice. A cry flew out of her throat. She shifted her hips instinctively, trying to avoid another swat on her prickling flesh. He bracketed her hips with his hands and kept her steady.

  “Hold still, or you’ll earn more,” she heard him say, his voice thicker than before. Was he getting turned on? Arousal pinched at her clit for some reason. She crunched her eyelids closed in rising bewilderment. He rubbed the patch of flesh on her bottom as if in apology for making her nerves sizzle. Her ass felt hot beneath his big hand.

  He smacked her again. She gasped. Distantly, she realized he’d turned on the stereo to muffle the sound of her spankings. His office was already remotely situated in the restaurant, the door was thick, and the luxurious furnishings and paintings likely muffled interior sounds.

  Did he punish women in his office often?

  The disconcerting thought fractured when he landed another spank. She was horrified when a tear burst from her clenched eyelids.

  “Mario was right. You are a devil, Lucien Sauvage,” she accused, shifting her bottom. He popped the moving target with increased force.

  “If you don’t keep your ass still, you will discover what a devil I can be.”

  She bit her lower lip as she forced herself to still. He smacked her again. Her ass was on fire, and her pussy was growing wet. The nerves on her behind stung, but it was nothing compared to the pleasurable tingling of her clit. At the same time, she was truly humiliated by the fact that she was allowing Lucien to spank her bare-assed.

  Yet . . . she wanted it. Needed it.

  “Just get it over with, please. I can’t take much more,” she said brokenly when he paused to soothe her burning flesh with caressing fingertips.

  “You will take what I give you.” He raised his hand again. The music swelled in her ears.

  Smack, smack.

  It was as if he were pushing something out of her with his punishment, building friction, trying to create a fire of feeling in her flesh. It was too much. Emotion exploded out of her. She shuddered uncontrollably.

  Suddenly he was lifting her by the shoulders and she was in his arms. She pressed her hot, wet cheek against his silk tie and shook with feeling.

  “I hate you. I hate you,” she muttered, not even sure what she was saying in her tumult.

  “No you don’t,” he said quietly, his fingers moving gently in her hair, soothing her. “We are alike, you and I. Both alone. Both misfits. I struggled to escape the golden cage, too, ma chère. I’m trying to help you, if you’ll only listen.”

  “Lucien,” she whispered, so much feeling infused into that one word, so much longing. She rubbed her cheek against his tie, drying unwanted tears. His clean, spicy, citrusy scent permeated her misery. So did the sensation of his hard body.

  He was clearly, awesomely aroused.

  She stilled at the realization, her misery fading. The inexplicable ache at her core amplified.

  What would happen now?

  His long fingers skimmed against her skin and he lifted her chin. She stared up at him, defiant even in her utter confusion. “I’m going to give you what you need.”

  “I don’t understand you,” she whispered.

  “Such a beautiful, wild thing, such a pure, strong flame,” he murmured, his gaze traveling over her face as he caressed the line of her jaw. “But you will burn yourself to ashes if left unchecked. You’ve been grasping for an outer limit to your world for years now, something to contain you. Now you’ve run into it. And I’m not turning away this time,” he said simply, skimming her cheek with his fingertips.

  She stared up at him mutely. He leaned down and kissed her lips, his mouth so tender and so cherishing that she felt as if she were dreaming.

  “Now bend back over the desk so that we can finish.”

  She arched against him. She’d rather just skip the spanking, hot as it was making her, and possess what she’d desired for half her life. Who knew that she’d respond so strongly to a bit of kink? She wasn’t the only one responding. What she felt of Lucien—his size and hardness—made her fevered. She’d love to stroke and suck the awesome cock she felt pressing against his trousers.

  “Do as I say,” he said, avoiding the come hither gyration of her hips, his gray eyes flashing, his tone hard. “Don’t try and grab control of this, Elise. Don’t test me. You’ll lose.”

  She gasped at the realization that he understood precisely what she’d been doing with her seduction. She let him turn her in his arms, despite her sharp disappointment. He pressed gently at her lower back, prompting her to bend over. His hand moved up her spine, massaging, molding, working the muscles.

  “So much tension in your muscles . . . so much pain,” he said quietly. He didn’t seem to be expecting a response, which was fine with her. She was too overwhelmed by his touch to speak. His hand brushed against her prickling, hot ass. Her clit pinched in arousal, the sharpness of her response shocking her. The anticipation was killing her.

  “But why? Why are you doing this?” burst out of her throat, her voice going high in panic.

  “Because I care,” he said. Her eyes sprang wide when he pressed his hand to her buttocks. Then it was gone, and she knew he was drawing his hand back in preparation to strike. Her sex clenched tight in anxious excitement. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t, Elise. And you wouldn’t be letting me if you didn’t know that.”

  Read more of Elise and Lucien’s red-hot romance in

  Pa
rt II of WHEN I’M WITH YOU

  WHEN YOU DEFY ME

  Available from InterMix on March 12, 2013

  Keep reading for a sneak peek of the first

  erotic serial romance from Beth Kery

  BECAUSE YOU ARE MINE

  Available now from Berkley/InterMix

  Francesca glanced around when Ian Noble entered the room, mostly because everyone else in the luxurious restaurant bar did the same thing. Her heart jumped. Through the crowd she saw a tall man dressed in an impeccably tailored suit remove his overcoat, revealing a long, lean body. She immediately recognized Ian Noble. Her gaze lingered on the elegant black overcoat draped over his arm. The random thought hit her brain that while the black coat was right, the suit was all wrong. He belonged in jeans, didn’t he? Her observation made no sense whatsoever. He looked fantastic in the suit, for one, and for another, according to a recent article she’d read in GQ, he was reputed to almost single-handedly keep London’s Savile Row thriving. What else would a businessman who was the scion of a minor branch of the British monarchy wear? One of the men who had entered with him reached to take his coat, but he shook his head once.

  Apparently, the enigmatic Mr. Noble wasn’t planning on doing more than making a cursory appearance at the cocktail party he was hosting in Francesca’s honor.

  “There’s Mr. Noble now. He’ll be so pleased to meet you. He loves your work,” Lin Soong said. Francesca heard the subtle note of pride in the woman’s voice, as if Ian Noble was her lover instead of her employer.

  “He looks like he has far more important things to do than meet me,” Francesca said, smiling. She took a sip of club soda and watched as Noble spoke tersely on a cell phone while two men stood nearby, his overcoat remaining slung in the crook of his arm in readiness for a quick getaway. The subtle slant of his mouth told her he was irritated. For some reason, this all-too-human display of emotion relaxed her a little. She hadn’t revealed it to her roommates—she was known for possessing a ‘whatever, bring it on attitude’—but she’d been strangely anxious about meeting Ian Noble.