Page 23 of Elevating Eve

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. Nowonder 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.

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