Author Note: I feel shameless, and I don't care—I'm going to post this anyway. Here is a hot and steamy one-shot. I'd never written one-shots before, but this was just imploring me to be written. Confessedly, the plot isn't mine—I stole it since I'm one hormone driven teenager and couldn't help but put this in my laptop in my free time. Hopefully, you'll find Jacob rather . . . erotic in this. And Renesmee, too. Don't blame me if you have to take a cold shower after this. It's sure to get your hormones boiling.

I also wanted to say that I won't be updating my stories for a while. I want to complete a few chapters (maybe five of each one) first so I can update them regularly, rather than having you guys wait a month or so for each chapter—knowing that you guys don't like it. I know since I don't, either. And then I'm also starting University soon, and then I definitely won't be able update regularly. So, I want to get plenty of chapters done before I start college and get really busy.

Warning: Rated M for sexual content! Nothing unusual or really, really hardcore, though.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the plot. Not even the lyrics below. This is a work of fiction, though not mine. I'm seventeen, and I'm a virgin. I haven't attempted any of this with anyone. ^_^


Everywhere I'm looking now, I'm surrounded by your embrace
Baby, I can see your halo, you know you're my saving grace
You're everything I need and more, it's written all over your face
Baby, I can feel your halo, I pray it won't fade away

- Beyoncé, Halo

"Muchas gracias," Renesmee Cullen said to the doorman as she entered the sumptuous hotel on the elegant Paseo de la Castellana. After a short converse with the clerk, she arranged to have her belongings, her rather large suitcases, stored until she called for them later. She headed for the elevator then.

Felix Jarrell was in for a surprise, and she didn't want to waste time with a bellman carrying her luggage. The thrill of seeing her fiancé intensified as the elevator ascended. With a hammering heartbeat, Renesmee watched the numbers increase over the door.

By the time the doors buzzed open, she was almost vertiginous with excitement. She made a quick check of her appearance in a large golden mirror, which hung in the hallway, before making her way to Felix's suite. Sleeping on the plane had helped, as did the change of clothes she'd taken time to don after she'd landed. Her three-carat, solitaire engagement diamond winked at her as she slipped a stay stand of golden-brown hair behind her left ear.

Felix was in Madrid—capital and largest city situated centrally in Spain—on a business trip and scheduled to return stateside tomorrow. She'd called him for the transatlantic flight to make sure his plans hadn't changed. He shouldn't have any trouble postponing his flight to allow them a spontaneous pre-wedding honeymoon in Spain.

Her heart raced as she held her breath and knocked on the engraved lumber door of Felix's suite. When there was no immediate response, she furrowed her delicate brows and knocked again.

A grumbled, "Hold on," restored her beautiful grin. Then the door swung wide, and her heart leapt into her throat.

Felix stood with a white hotel towel draped around his trim hips, his alluring hair adorably mussed. He was dry, although the sound of running water told her she'd intercepted him heading for the shower.

God, I'm one lucky girl. She let her gaze climb over his muscular form to settle on his blue eyes, which went from half closed to wide open in an instant.

"Renesmee . . ." he said on a whispered breath.

"Surprise!" She laughed, draped her arms around his neck, reveling in the feeling of his solid sinews against her curves. She then gave him a hard kiss.

His fingers curled around her upper arms.

"Whoever it is, darling, get rid of them," A woman's voice coming from the bathroom smacked Renesmee like a bucket of ice water. "Mmm, hurry. The water's just right."

She pushed away from Felix as shock, pain, and anger warred within her. She latched onto the cold chill that ran up her spine and let it harden her heart. Keeping her face blank, she folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. "While the cat's away, is that it . . . darling?"

Felix took her lead and met her gaze with a poker face. "What are you doing here, Renesmee?"

"I should think that's obvious. I decided to start our honeymoon early, but I see you had the same idea. Only you started without me," She slipped under his arm that held the door open. "Who the hell is she?"

"Goddammit!" He released the door and grabbed her arm.

She stopped, her gaze slashing to him. "Let. Me. Go." Her voice was flat, void of all emotion, and deadly, dangerously serious.

"That's your fucking problem, Renesmee. You want to control everything. Everyone," Felix released her arm. "Leave her alone. She didn't know about you."

"Since I didn't know about her, either, we should get along just fine."

Frustrated, he raked his fingers through his hair, a move she'd previously found appealing. Now, it just pissed her off.

"They said you were an icy bitch," he snapped, "but I never realized how much until now." Looking like a trapped rat, he struck with a ferocious venom that left her sprit in tatters, but she'd be damned if she lost that infamous control in front of him.

As her heart bled ceaselessly in her chest, she laughed without an ounce of humor. "You have no idea."

Hearing the shower cut off, Renesmee pinned Felix with a hard glare.

"Darling? Where'd you go?" The shower curtain scarped along the rod as the woman pulled it back.

Renesmee spun for the bathroom, making him curse again. "Darling will be right there," She said as she slipped off her engagement ring and with little more than a glance at the woman who yelped when she speared in the doorway, Renesmee tossed her diamond ring in the toilet bowl and depressed the flush button.

"What the . . .? Fuck, Renesmee, I'm still paying for that!"

Renesmee dodged him as he lunged for the toilet to attempt and stop the ring from vanishing. She wished the whirlpool would suck him under with it.

"Who . . .?" The woman held the curtain across her body like a shield. "What . . .?"

"You can have him. Our wedding's off." With that declaration, Renesmee let the last trace of her pride carry her out of the hotel suite.

She kept the tears in check until she reached the anonymity of the Madrid sidewalks.


Jacob Black stepped from his limousine and ordered the driver to circle the block. He wanted—needed—to stretch his legs with a walk in the park after spending hours seated at conference tabled, haggling with corporate executives and lawyers.

His proposed plan to expand the family business overseas, with a foothold on both coasts of the United States, was coming together. At least the first phase had been successful. It would still be months, if not a year or more, before he saw his dream become reality.

He removed his tie and tucked it in his pants pocket, then unfastened the top two buttons of his shirt. As he strolled along the paved paths, he inhaled the sweet scent of blossoms and freshly mowed grass. The greenery of the city park helped him relax despite the constant hum of heavy traffic in the background.

He'd have to call his father to let him know how things went, but . . . He glanced at the Rolex Cellini on his wrist and calculated the time adjustment to Eastern Standard Time. Yes, the call could wait.

A stifled sob and sniffle made him browse around to see a petite woman seated on a park bench, her head held in her hands. Her trim, nylon-encased legs led Jacob's gaze up from elegant black heels to her hip-hugging skirt that stopped about midthigh. She wore a jewel-toned burgundy blazer to match the skirt, which broadcast her as a woman of sophisticated taste and elegance, despite her current position. Auburn strands of long, wavy hair hung like a silken, shiny curtain around her bowed face.

"Perdón, señorita,"Jacob said, pulling a silk handkerchief from his jacket pocket.

Renesmee startled and swept her hair aside to peer at him with deep umber eyes as alluring as the sea of cocoa. For a moment Jacob could do nothing more than stare into her sorrow-filled gaze.

"May I be of some service?" he asked in Spanish.

"No, thank you," she murmured in slightly accented Spanish

Renesmee's thick lashes lowered to fan across her damp, pallid cheeks. She blinked, and another tear trailed down her face.

Jacob lowered himself to the bench beside her and held out the handkerchief.

She studied it for a few seconds then slowly shook her head. "No, thank you," she repeated, her hands fisted in her lap. She rubbed her thumb over her now unadorned left ring finger.

Jacob reclined against the back of the bench and silently watched her, although the golden-brown curtain of her hair blocked his view of her face.

"I'm not an icy bitch," she blundered out, her fists striking her lap.

Surprised by her sudden change to flawless English, Jacob smile and said, "Of course you aren't."

Those chocolate eyes widened and turned towards him as if she'd totally forgotten his presence, or hadn't realized she'd spoken aloud.

Tilting her face with a finger under her chin, Jacob wiped the tears from her cheeks gently, carefully as though she'd shatter with his light touch.

"You're a very beautiful woman, and whoever caused these tears is an exceedingly unfortunate and foolish man."

Renesmee caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and another tear slipped from her bottom lash.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Jacob Black."

Her gaze dropped, her lashes again shielding her tempting eyes. "Renesmee."

What a lovely name, he thought.

Jacob let his thumb graze the lush curve of her bottom lip, released her chin, and pocketed his handkerchief. "Renesmee, I know this is short notice, but would you do me a kind favor?"

Curiosity shone as Renesmee looked up at Jacob.

"I have reservations at a restaurant, but I dislike eating alone. Would you do me the honor of dining with me?"

She shook her head and glanced away.

"A drink then?" he asked then, softly.

When she looked up once more, her eyes were darker and . . . suspicious.

"A-are you married?" Renesmee questioned.





Jacob smiled. "No."

In a move so sudden it pulled him off balance, she grabbed the lapels of his jacket and roughly pressed her lips to his. With somewhat trembling lips, she took his upper one in between her teeth, sucked and lapped. By the time Jacob recovered enough to respond, Renesmee had already pushed away with an angry murmur.

"God, I'm so sorry. I can't do anything right. Maybe I am too controlling, but I don't mean to be," She didn't look at him as she proceeded with her ramble, which he thought was extremely endearing. "I don't want to be. I'm not heartless, you know. I can't let go. For once in my life . . ."

Deciding he'd heard enough, Jacob slipped both hands up to cradle her damp cheeks and turned her face towards him. His lips cut off her self-deprecating chatter in midsentence, his tongue diving inside to claim Renesmee's honey-sweet mouth.

When her hands started to encircle his neck, he caught her wrist. Her nails scraped over his skin, sending flames of desire scorching through him, before he moved them behind her back and pinned her body against his. Jacob swallowed her moan as he continued to kiss until they were both breathless. His erection throbbed and, surprised by the speed of his own response, he had to pause to regain composure.

His lips hovered over hers as he pulled back just enough to see her closed eyes.

He held her wrists gently in one hand, while letting his other fingers lightly stroke the delicate curve of her neck, feeling excitement in her pulse's heavy, erratic beat.

"If you wish to lose control, mi gatita, I can show you how."

Renesmee's lashes fluttered, unveiling a confused but intrigued haze.

One side of Jacob's mouth curved.

"Wh-what do you mean, show me?"

"Let go, señorita," he answered. "Submit. Have you ever played the role of a submissive lover?"

Her look turned to one of uncertainty and skepticism. However, she didn't attempt to pull her wrists away. "No," Jacob felt her tremble but couldn't tell whether it was from fear or arousal. "I don't know y —"

"Trust is a vital part of such play. The submissive relinquishes control, gaining the freedom to truly feel cherished, desired, and pleasured. The master is really the one bound, because he must adhere to strict rules to ensure his sub's experience is a memorable one."

She bit her bottom lip, making Jacob want to suck it into his mouth again. "I don't know if I can."

"You already have," He smiled when her gaze shot to his. "I hold you in my arms, your wrists in my hand. Tell me, Renesmee . . ." He let his fingers slide from her neck to the swell of her breast barely visible in the V of her blouse. She shivered. ". . . how did you feel when I captured them? How do you feel now?"

Her chest rose rapidly as her breath became unsteady. Renesmee's pulse pounded under his fingertips, reminding Jacob that despite the blow someone had given her heart, it still beat with a need not unlike his own.

"Excited," she whispered, as if she thought sirens would sound if she made such an admission aloud. "But a little scared, too."

"More excited that afraid, I hope," Jacob kissed the tip of her nose, and she gave him a shaky smile. "You need only to say your safe word, and I'd stop immediately."

"Safe word?"

"Corazón," he said, choosing the word heart as a reminder to her as well as himself that it, above all else, should be kept safe.

"Corazón?" Renesmee frowned.

Jacob released her wrist as soon as she spoke and moved back enough to break all physical contact with her.

Those beautiful eyes met his with surprise, then with understanding.

She rubbed her arms as if the sudden loss of his body heat left her chilled.

"I've never done anything like this before."

"Permit me to enlighten you? My place is —"

"No," She bit her lip. "Some place neutral."

He studied her for a moment, then nodded and said, "You choose, señorita."

Renesmee named a five-star hotel not far from where they sat. He'd had business clients stay there in the past and knew it well. The knowledge confirmed his suspicions that she was used to a life of some luxuries, if not extravagance.

"You have a room there?"

"No. Not anymore . . ." Her gaze slid away from him, the pain of earlier shadowing her face.

Jacob held out his hand and, after a brief minute of indecision, Renesmee took it. He led her back along the path and stopped at the street. When she turned her puzzled eyes towards him, he smiled and squeezed her hand—and her heart—, then grinned as the limousine pulled to a stop a short time later, and her eyes rounded with surprise.

"After you, mi gatita." My kitten. She reminded him of one. Curious and unpredictably excitable. During the quick ride to the hotel and, as they checked in under Jacob Black's name, he continued to hold her hand, tenderly caressing the back with his thumb.

As the elevator rose, he sensed her nerves becoming more jumpy—a speculation confirmed when she flinched at the ding marking their arrival on the appropriate floor.

At the room, Jacob reluctantly released her hand to slide the keycard in and push open the door. "Do you wish to use your safe word, Renesmee?"

She faced him, scrutinizing his face for sincerity. Jacob held still, met her gaze, and waited without touching Renesmee, allowing her time to determine whether he was worthy of her trust.

After what seemed like an eternity, she shook her head and walked past him into the room. Her poise indicated a woman of class and confidence, yet she continued to rub her arms. Jacob was determined to help her heal some of the emotional scars left by whoever had hurt her.

He tossed the keycard on the dresser and watched her turn in a circle until she faced him once more.

"It's a nice room," Renesmee uttered with a brief laugh at her attempt at small talk.

"Made more beautiful by your presence."

Jacob observed a faint crimson color her cheeks.

Renesmee's lips parted slightly, her tongue darting out to moisten them.

Instead of touching her—something Jacob was dying to do—, he removed his jacket and tossed it across a nearby chair. His shirt was next. Renesmee's gaze followed his hands as he worked free each button and tugged the hem from the waistband of his pants.

"Remove your blazer, Renesmee." Jacob gave the command softy but with firm authority. He held out his hand to take it from her but was careful not to contact her skin as she obeyed. "And the blouse, honey."

Renesmee's fingers trembled, but once more she followed his order. Only pale ivory lace covered her breasts now, the coral nipples barely visible beneath the seductive design. His erection hardened at the sight, but Jacob held himself in check.

As much as he'd just like to sink into her hard and fast right now, tonight was not about his pleasures, but hers. The beautiful, gorgeous Renesmee who stood in front of him. She needed nurturing.

Some hardhearted moron had wounded her, shaken her confidence. Such a lovely woman, she'd been dealt a crushing blow by someone who should've supported her, protected her, and cherished her. Loved her. She was a strong woman, but one in need of a comforting, yet firm hand.

"Tonight, you have no worries," he said in a husky murmur. "No concerns, duties, or burdens other than to follow my command. Tonight you're mine to control, to care for . . . as you deserve to be. Understand?"

She swallowed then nodded. He smiled at her nervous regard.

"You have your safe word. Should you use it at anytime, I'll stop instantly. But until then, I intend to master you, pamper you, and take you higher than you've ever been before."


Aroused adrenaline pumped harder inside Jacob as he heard the word on her lips.

He gave her an amused grin. "I like the sound of that."

She laughed, a brief but welcome music to his ears.

"Turn around, Renesmee."

She did, but kept her head turned so she could see him over her shoulders.

"Unfasten your skirt."

When she complied, he took her hands and, placing his over hers, pushed the skirt down until it pooled around her feet. The top of her head barely reached his shoulders. Jacob's eyelids drooped as he buried his face in her hair and inhaled her fresh, floral scent.

After planting a kiss to the back of her head, he knelt behind her and slowly stroked her arms. Renesmee's breaths came out in light, quick puffs. Jacob tucked his thumbs into her nylons and pulled them down. She wore no panties beneath the pantyhose, which pleased him, though he didn't mention it.

"Put your hand on my shoulder and lift your foot." She complied, hanging onto his shoulder as he removed the last remnants of her clothing, along with her heels.

With a gentle grip on her hips, he turned her to face him as he sat back on his heels, his knees straddling her feet. Renesmee's delicate fingers clung to the thick bands of his shoulders, while Jacob let his hands roam over the backs of her thighs and buttocks. Her skin was as soft as rose petals. He wanted to lick every inch of her creamy flesh. Jacob wasn't shocked at all to have found her shaven.

A growl rumbled up his throat. Soon, he thought, but not yet.

He stood, towering her, his palms resting on the swell of her hips.

"Béseme, Renesmee," Jacob ordered with an uncompromising stare at her full lips.

She rose up on her tiptoes to comply with his demand for a kiss. Jacob leant down and pressed his lips to those lush, pink rosy ones of hers.

He let her lead during the first few seconds, but her subtle, tentative touch was too much of a siren's call for his libido. Jacob took command and thrust his tongue inside to raid the hot depths of Renesmee's sweet mouth. She made a sound of surprise, which he drank in. Jacob's muscles flexed as he fought the urge to press her body against his hard erection.

He wanted to tumble them onto the bed and power into her. His erection throbbed with the need, but he couldn't, so he tore his mouth from hers and released her hips.

After catching his breath, he said, "Lie back on the bed, kitty. In the middle."

Kitty, Renesmee replicated him in her mind. With a hint of mischief, she flashed the set of her pearly whites. "Yes, Master."

Jacob chuckled at her playful tone, and was silently relieved to see the pain that had etched tiny lines in her brows earlier had disappeared.

When Renesmee was in place, he turned off all the lights except for the bathroom, which he left on to spill through the crack in the doorway and provide a softer, more subtle illumination. Then, returning to the bed, Jacob sat beside Renesmee.

She lay watching him with her legs together, her hands, one over the other, across her abdomen.

"You're very lovely," He ran a finger over her collarbone, down past the curve of one breast, to circle the pebbled nipple with his fingertip. "Control is mine, kitty?"

She nodded.

As he took her hands and raised them over her head, anticipation lit up Renesmee's eyes. Until he withdrew the silk necktie from his pants pocket and wound it around her wrists.

Renesmee tensed when she saw the silky, pale blue necktie. Her breathing faltered as Jacob would it around her wrists.

Her gaze remained glued to his chiseled handsome features. His hair was rich jet, his skin a golden bronze as if he spent a lot of time in the sin. Jacob's eyes had an exotic tilt to them, and the color reminded her of darkest caramel, soothing and seductive.

When he'd removed his jacket and opened his shirt, she'd caught a glimpse of his hairless chest and rock-solid abs, which had made the space in between her legs moisten.

But now her body trembled for another reason altogether. Apprehension.

As if Jacob sensed her emotional change, he stopped after only two rotations of the tie around her wrists. "Pull on your hands, kitty."

She did and was free with only one tug.

"That's not so bad, now, is it?" He smiled, the three dimples flashing seductively at her—two on his cheeks and one on his chin—, which assisted her at ease. Jacob took her hands again, wrapping the blue silk tie twice around and forming a single loose bow. "There is no need to be afraid. You can trust me. Renesmee, you can pull free any time you want, but know that if you do, or if you say your safe word, I will stop immediately. Understand?"

She nodded and left her hands bound on the pillow over her head.

"Say it again."

"Yes, Master."

He bent down and gave her a quick kiss before he stepped away from the bed. "Don't move."

Watching her, he removed the rest of his clothing. Like his abs, his legs were trim and strong. A thin trail of dark hair led from his navel to his . . . manliness, which jutted out proud and ready as he removed his dress pants.

He dug for his wallet, pulled out a couple of condom packets, and tossed them on the foot of the bed. Relieved that he'd thought of such things when Renesmee had forgotten, she sighed and relaxed, accepting that he was in control.

Her gaze followed him when Jacob moved to the bed and grasped her ankles. All of the air left the room when he moved her feet apart and knelt on the mattress. Despite the dim light, she could still make out the passionate desire that darkened Jacob's deep eyes.

He lifted her right foot and placed a chaste kiss to the inside of her ankle, making her sigh contentedly. Jacob's fingers brushed lightly over her skin to tease the underside of her knee, tickling her a bit. Renesmee smiled but forced herself not to budge. His lips trailed his hands up her leg, over her inner thigh, tightening her nerves until her hips lifted in a plea for his attention, where she needed him the most.

Instead of heeding her silent demands for more, Jacob lowered her right leg and turned his focus to her left. The exquisite torment continued with slow deliberation until Renesmee writhed.

"Please," she begged when he kissed the sensitive pulse-point where Renesmee's leg met her hip.

Jacob licked his way to her navel, dipping his tongue inside, and her hips lifted again. He gripped her thighs and held them wide, but he refused to follow her urgings.

His thumbs rubbed her skin just above her legs. So close, yet so far away.

Renesmee's head flopped back onto the pillow, while her body hummed with carnal frustration. "Please," she pleaded again, adding, "Master," for good measure with the hope Jacob's would just hurry.

"Patience, kitty. I'm just getting started."

Oh, my . . .

He leaned over her, his firm body blanketing hers as Jacob took the tip of one breast into his mouth. His hot tongue flicked her nipple. She moaned and wanted to run her fingers through his hair and hold him there. Renesmee remained still, battling the urge to hurry him along. Jacob sucked until she felt the pulse in between her legs match the tug of his lips. His gentle hand with long, talented fingers kneaded and teased her other breast, plucking at the peak. The torture was so exquisite she longed for more.

With a groan, Jacob nipped the bud with his teeth then switched to the other nipple.

Renesmee arched her back, unable to remain still.

His hands and mouth roamed her body, leaving behind a trail of sizzling skin and nerves aching for more. When he slithered back down the bed, the loss of his body heat left her whimpering with need. But then all thought ceased as he spread her bent knees wide, and found the heart of hers, taking possession of her with his mouth.

Renesmee clamped her eyes shut and lifted for him, giving him more access. She brought both hands, still bound, to his head and sank her fingers into his thick, silky hair.

Jacob stopped and pulled away from her grasp.

"No, don't, please . . ."

"Renesmee, you moved."

She blinked, but then she recalled he had ordered her not to move. Surely, that didn't mean he'd stop . . . .

Jacob took her by the wrist and raised her arms overhead again.

"What shall I do with a disobedient pet?" He smiled, but the odd question sent a unique thrill rocketing along Renesmee's nervous system.

"I'm so sorry." It was her damn control problem.

Yes, it was, especially since her actions had made him stop what she'd been practically begging for from the moment Jacob crawled onto the bed. Jacob couldn't know how sorry Renesmee was.

He moved up beside her then, kneeling on her left side near her head, and took himself in his hand. "Show me how sorry."

Her gaze darted from his erection to his eyes and back again. After a moment's hesitation, she rolled sideways and opened her mouth.

Without her hands free, she couldn't control the speed or depth of her movements, but he did. Jacob scooped her hair into his fist and held her head as he slipped his thick erection past her lips.

"Slow and easy. I want this to last." He reached the back of her mouth. She sucked hard and heard him draw a quick breath.

"Oh, mierda, that feels good." He groaned as he let her tongue sweep the hot flesh while he set a demanding pace.

Renesmee fisted her hands in frustration. She wanted to touch him, run her hands all over Jacob's chiseled body. Still, a wicked part of her delighted in knowing that she could bring him pleasure, drive him to the edge, without even laying a finger on him.

With a harsh, shaky breath, he pulled her off him and let her roll onto her back, her lungs straining for air. Jacob quickly moved to the foot of the bed. When his fingers spread her, her breath caught in her throat.

"You're forgiven, kitty," he said with a wide grin, "but learn your lesson and don't move."

"Yes, Mast . . . ah!"

He seized her sensitive nubble, sucking it hard into his mouth. At the same time, he pushed a finger inside her soaked channel. Jacob had dictated her not to move, but Renesmee's hips refused to follow her brain. They practically lurched. His tongue flicked and swirled around her, driving her faster. Jacob added another finger and shoved her unbelievably higher toward ecstasy.

Her head tossed from side to side, her delicate brows crumpled in pure bliss. The tension built until Renesmee could stand no more. The climax burst from her body, her moans of surrender harmonizing with his grunts of approval. She was shivering with the aftereffects when he straddled her left leg and leant forward on his burly arms.

Jacob dipped his head to capture her lips and stole her breath. As he possessed her mouth, she tasted herself, which drew another moan from deep within her.

Pushing away gently from her, Jacob caught his breath, allowing Renesmee to do the same, and retrieved a tiny square packet from the foot of the bed. He held her gaze as he ripped it open and sheathed himself with the protective condom. Once more, she was grateful to him for having enough control to remember things that her mind had failed to retain.

Jacob lifted Renesmee's right leg over his shoulder, positioning himself, and paused for the safe word he prayed she wouldn't ever use.

There was no response, only a nod from her that was his approval.

His passion-filled gaze locked with hers as he slowly slid into her depths. With each inch, his jaw tightened, his eyes darkened, and her heart stuttered.

"Damn, you're so tight and hot." Her eyelids drifted close with the overwhelming sensation, but Jacob said, "No, open 'em. Look at me."

She obeyed, and he withdrew a couple of inches, then pressed home once more.

"Watch me make love to you," he breathed as he slammed in hard. She cried out as her muscles contracted around him. "Yes." He said without ceasing the fierce pace he'd set. Leaning forward above Renesmee over his hands, he drove into her with ever-deepening strokes. His flesh slapped at hers, a rhythmic staccato amid the melody of their irregular breathing.

Her pants changed to moans, and then when he reached between them to tweak the place just above where their bodies connected, she screamed. The orgasm surged through her from her core to every extremity.

"Again, kitty. Let go and come again." His breaths were short huffs, his strong arms taut. Still he powered into her with long, steady thrusts and sent her spiraling over the next precipice.

One masterful stroke later, he found his own climax.


Two years later

"Thank you, Alice," Renesmee whispered as she slipped the keycard into her purse. "I owe you one."

The head of management for the exclusive Rosemont Grand hotel scowled at her. "Damn straight you do, Renny, I'm putting my job on line for you," she glanced down the empty hallway then back at Renesmee. "This guy better be worth it."

Renesmee gave her best friend a quick hug. "God, I hope so. It's been two years, and no man had lived up to the expectations Jacob set. When I saw his photo in the newspaper and learned he was going to be here . . ." She laid her hand over her heart that was beating like a timpani, and sucked in a fast breath. "I have to see if that one night was a fluke. Walking—no, slithering out on him like that while he slept was the biggest mistake of my life."

Alice shook her head, pursing her lips. "If I get fired, you're hiring me for at least double what I make here, whether I know a thing about film production or not," she demanded, then quickly added, "And I want a corner office."

Renesmee laughed and squeezed her hand. "Triple. And a company car." She promised.

Her best friend winked and grinned. "For that I might get myself fired anyway. Now go on. It's getting late."

As Renesmee rode the elevator to the Terrace Suite on the top floor, her nerves jangled, and her palms grew damp. She could do this, she told herself. She glanced at the elevator attendant's reflection in the polished gold door and wondered if he had any idea just how turned on she was at the thought of seducing Jacob Black. Or how terrified.

Jacob. The man in the spotlight of her every fantasy, a one-time indulgence that, once experienced, was better left to the past.

They'd met while she's been at her weakest. With his unfathomable compassion for a total stranger, he'd slipped past the tough, protective coating she'd long used to keep other's at arm's length. She'd needed to feel nurtured, desired, if only for a moment. She's wanted to hand over the reins of her firm control to someone, if only for a night. And Jacob had been there to give her want she'd needed and more. So she'd taken what he'd offered and then disappeared, vowing never again relinquish control, no matter how heavy the burden life's demands became on her tiny shoulders.

Admittedly, her engagement to Felix had been a mistake, an utter failure. He'd fooled her with his charismatic personality. Every handy with a compliment, he'd charmed her with an illusion. Always accommodating, he's never once told her no, not even when she'd hinted at marriage. The successful womanizer had produced a ring within the week for her, while keeping his mistress hidden within the sheets of his bed.

She'd learned her lesson and became stronger. More independent. A self-reliant woman who could match wits with any businessman. She'd clawed her way up the corporate ladder using her savvy ingenuity, an attention to detail, and clear, definable guidelines. After her one night of selfish weakness, she's shifted back into the professional mode and left her private desires behind for good. Or so she'd thought.

Now her past had found her, or she'd found him. The sight of his face alone had made her long to lose control, to let go again. The desire overwhelmed her professional need for command. For three days since seeing his photo in the business section of the Times and learning his arrival, she'd fought the urge to seek Jacob out. But her will had crumbled under her curiosity and need.

If she thought she regretted sneaking out on him two years ago, how much remorse would she feel if she let this chance slip by?

The soft ding of the elevator announced her arrival. The attendant gave her a courteous nod as she stepped into the short hallway. Two doors. One on the left, one on the right. She pulled from her purse the keycard that Alice had provided her with and checked the number on the paper sleeve. 2708.

Her thudding heart nearly choked her. The space in between her legs damp and heated already. Excitement grew steadily as she stared at the door that could lead her to a night of exhilaration in Jacob's commanding embrace.

Or utter humiliation if he wasn't interested. If she'd been nothing more to him than a one-night stand, a quick lay . . .

No! She wouldn't believe that. He'd been too . . . too . . .

She'd been the one to run from him, from what they might have had if she'd been courageous enough to stay and find out. Before she lost her nerve and ran from another hotel, she slipped the keycard into the lock. Alice had told her the room was empty, and that Mr. Black had requested a turndown no earlier than nine tonight.

Glancing at her watch, she pushed the door open. Eight-thirty now, and Alice had promised to cancel the turndown order.

The sitting room was spacious with rich burgundy carpet and jade green furnishings. A gas fireplace took up one corner, and a wall of windows overlooked the southern California coast beyond the quaint, garden terrace. One lamp against the far wall lit the room, so she didn't turn on any other as she made her way into the living room.

Dang, there were two bedrooms. Which one would he be sleeping in? It was hard to tell since the place was spotlessly tidy. Renesmee peeked into the first one. Jackpot. A blue silk tie hung over the back of the easy chair positioned in front of the window. Dropping her overnight bag on the king-sized bed as she passed, she picked up the tie and ran it through her fingers. A slow smile spread over her face and a tingle, caused by her remembrance of another blue silk tie, shot through her body.

With an idea forming in her mind, she began removing her clothes. Within seconds she stood nearly nude in the middle of the room, her thigh-high black stockings the last garment adoring her figure. Renesmee glimpsed her reflection in the full-length mirror across the room and cringed. She'd thought to lie bound and naked on the bed as she had before, but her courage fled. Just being in the room was bold enough. She went to the bed, opened her bag, and slipped into the lacy red and black chemise. Leaving her stockings on, she exchanged her professional footwear for a pair of silver stilettos.

Another glaze at the mirror made her chew her lip. What had she been thinking when she'd picked this outfit? Her legs looked good because of the four-inch heels, but she's never worn anything this revealing in her life. Or this seductive. She prayed he'd find it—and her—seductive.

She stashed her bag and clothing behind the chair next to the window, tossed a few condom packets on the nightstand, and grinned. She hadn't come unprepared this time around.

Holding Jacob's tie, she climbed into the middle of the bed. The satin covering on the down comforter was slippery and cool against her skin as she adjusted her outfit, or what there was of it.

God, what if he didn't remember her? No. Of course, he would remember her. He had to.

She twisted the tie around her wrists and used her teeth to help her tie a lose knot. Lying back against the overstuffed pillows, she raised her hands over her head, just as Jacob had once positioned her. She spread her bent knees slightly and glanced at that mirror across the room.

She looked like a coquette.

For tonight, she vowed to be any damn thing Jacob could possibly want. As long as he did to her all the things he'd done before. As long as he commanded her body, brought her the excruciating pleasures he had before, and slaked his own insatiable lust inside her.

The sound of her own breathing brought her back to present. The warm place in between her legs throbbed, and her nipples tightened against the laced cups. Please let him hurry.

As she lay there, attempting to regular her breathing and calm her racing heart, she wondered whether tonight would go well. And if it did, could it be the start to a long-term affair?

The newspaper article had stated he'd just bought a five-thousand-acre vineyard in the Napa Valley and was here on the coast to meet with investors. His main American headquarters was somewhere in Washington, where he owned a multimillion dollar mansion and two other wineries.

If he was going to be spending time here on this side of West Coast . . . Renesmee grinned and her breathing sped up all over again at the thought of Jacob calling her with that sexy accent, saying, "I'm in town. Meet me at the Rosemont." Mmm . . .

She could have the best of both worlds—daily independence and the occasional sexual guidance of a talented master. And no one but the two of them need know about her darker, deviant side. There was no point in informing the world that she wasn't always in control, that she loved it when Jacob dictated her.

Renesmee held her breath when she heard the click of the electronic lock on the front door. The room was dark now, night completely fallen outside. The only light filtered through the bedroom door from the sitting room, splashing across the bed, making her feel as if she were under a spotlight.

Straining to hear what Jacob was doing, she believed she heard low thud of the bar fridge open and close. Ice clanked in a glass. "Come on, come on," she whispered. What if he decided to watch television or read the newspaper first? What if she lay here for hours before he came to bed? The thought made her feel stupid and ridiculous. Or what if he tossed her out?

Her insecurities warred with her courage. As she debated the logic of either dragging him to the bedroom or hiding until he went to sleep, a shadow fell across the bed.

Jacob's tall, lean body stopped, silhouetted in the doorway of the bedroom. His hand moved, and then lamplight flooded the room. He stood there in dark slacks, his cream-colored shirt open at the collar, the sleeves rolled back to reveal his darkly tanned forearms. In one hand was a glass of amber liquid. But it was the deep dark color of his eyes that snared her. Jacob's intense gaze took in her body from head to toe, heating her even more, sending a thrill skyrocketing through her.

Renesmee took a deep breath for courage. "Hello, Master," she purred, her body so ready for him she could barely keep from squirming under his concentrated gaze.

A slow grin spread over his chiseled features, flaunting his ultrawhites, as he sauntered towards the bed. The sexy dimples that'd been her undoing two long years ago before winked at her.

Jacob hadn't changed much. His discerning eyes were still framed by fine lined that crinkled slightly at the outer corners whenever he was amused. He's kept his thick dark hair trimmed on the sides, but let it grow longer on top, which gave him a rakish look as errant strands fell across his brows.

"Well, now," Jacob said in his deep hefty, sexy accent, "I really like that sound of that."

Let me know what you think! ^_^ I hope you enjoyed reading!