Dark Studies (Arcaneology) by C. P. Foster

Fine tremors rippled through her, making him groan and move faster. That was all it took to send her over the edge. An instant later he followed.
    Even after he had gone soft, he stayed inside her. It took a little while for her breathing to slow to its normal pace. When it did, she whispered, “I’ve missed you.”
    “I couldn’t tell.”
    Grace giggled. “Are you still hungry?”
    “No. But you should eat.” As he slipped out of her, she murmured a protest. Steffen got to his feet and fastened his pants. “I’ll call room service.”
    “That’s all right. I brought a bottle of apple juice.”
    “I want you to have something more substantial.” He picked up the phone.
    “Hey! Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not one of your minions.”
    “My minions?” Steffen raised an eyebrow.
    Rolling onto her stomach, she propped her chin in her hands. “You know what I mean.”
    “Let me try again. Will you please eat some real food?”
    “That’s better.”
    “Well?”
    “Order me a slice of cheesecake, if they have it.” At his frown she said, “I had dinner a couple of hours ago. This is dessert.”
    He gave in and dialed.
     
     
     
    When she finished, Steffen set the plate outside their door and hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the knob. He turned to look her over. The vulnerability she had glimpsed earlier was gone now, replaced by a determination she did not understand.
    “Take off your clothes,” he commanded.
    A shiver went through her. She stood and started to obey, then stopped. “I think we covered this. Don’t tell me what to do.”
    “Take off your clothes,” he repeated, stalking toward her.
    “What if I don’t want to?”
    “Then I’ll take them off for you.”
    “In that case, I definitely don’t want to.”
    She stood her ground as he stepped into her personal space. He laced his fingers through her hair and clenched them into a fist. Tipping her head, he lowered his so their faces nearly touched. Steffen stared into her eyes. With his other hand he found where the dress fastened behind her neck, and he worked it open so the halter came loose and fell to her waist. She wore no bra—you couldn’t in a halter dress—and her naked breasts distracted him. Steffen slid his palm over one. With the ball of his thumb he drew circles around her nipple until it stiffened.
    Deep beneath the character of Grace, Angie stirred. The urge to surrender overwhelmed her. She hoped this was what he wanted in his fantasy woman, because she couldn’t help her reaction. Domination and submission had not been a part of the plan, so she couldn’t be certain what he expected. The best she could do was incorporate her own response into the role and see what happened. His mouth curved up at the corners the tiniest bit. Leaving her breast, he trailed his fingertips over her ribs and down her bare back until they found the zipper of her dress, and she heard it rasp open. The garment dropped to the floor.
    His grip on her hair tightened and pulled her onto her toes. He brushed her lips with his. “I’m going to tell you what to do, and this time you’re going to do it.”
    “Yes,” she whispered.
    Steffen rewarded her with a soft kiss. “Take off your underwear. Then undress me.”
    It wasn’t easy to wriggle out of her panties in that position, but he didn’t let go, just drew back enough to stare into her eyes again. Once she had managed it, she felt her way to the bottom of his shirt. Grace pushed it up his chest. When she couldn’t go any farther, he released his hold on her and raised his arms over his head. She struggled to reach high enough to get the shirt off. The corners of his eyes creased until he finally took mercy and finished the job for her.
    Instead of taking her by the hair again, he wrapped one hand around her throat, not squeezing or causing pain, just resting it there. She fumbled to open his pants, and when she did she couldn’t resist the urge to slide her hand inside. He was