Ivy: The Ties That Bind (Auction Night Book 4)

by Ellie Masters

  “If not me, then what?”

  “I’m afraid of myself.”

  He gives me a smile and tugs me tight.

  “Now those are the best words I’ve ever heard.”

  I don’t know how that can be, but I enjoy being held in his arms too much. I enjoy all of this too much. To be honest, if I never leave this place, I will be content.

  “I knew the moment I laid eyes on you that you were a natural,” he says. “I also knew that no matter what it took that I had to have you.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, and now that I have you, I’m not inclined to let you go.”

  My heart warms with this thought.

  “Now, before we continue, we have some things to discuss.”

  “What things?”

  He rolls off the bed and walks to a tiny desk shoved in the corner.

  It’s the first time I see any part of this room. That’s how much this man consumes me. The blindfold is no longer on, but he’s the only thing I’ve looked at these past few minutes. I let my attention wander the room while Edge gathers whatever is on that desk. There’s a stack of papers and he’s rummaging around inside a drawer.

  I lie upon crisp white sheets. The scent of sex lingers in the air, and I take a deep breath because I never want to forget what this smells like.

  The walls are paneled in polished wood which seem to shine in the soft glow of the overhead chandelier. It’s a sturdy thing, well supported and hung from the ceiling. On closer examination, there appear to be hooks and loops making me wonder if the heavy iron is meant for more than supporting teacup lights.

  My cheeks heat again, thinking about how something like that might work. To my left is a doorway leading out of the room. The bare wood floors give way to tile which tells me this room comes equipped with a bathroom. I don’t know what else Edge is planning for us, but I’m pretty certain I’m going to need a shower at the end of our time together.

  He returns, carrying a clipboard and a fountain pen. He sits at the head of the bed after plumping several pillows for support and placing them behind his back.

  I shift my weight to give him room as his long legs sprawl down the middle of the bed. He spreads them, shameless in his nakedness, giving me a wonderful view of his cock. Even soft, it’s a thing to behold.

  “Come,” he commands. “Sit.”

  I crawl to him and the corners of his mouth tease up into a smirk.

  “Are you trying to tease me, little mouse?”

  His cock gives a little jerk.

  “And what if I am?”

  “I would say you already have one punishment coming tonight and would caution you against adding another to the list.”

  I almost forgot about the punishment.

  Almost.

  It would be a lie to say it slipped my mind. How does something like that work?

  I have so many questions. I figure he will try to spank me. It seems the most obvious punishment. Am I supposed to daintily drape myself across his lap and lay there for it? That doesn’t seem like much of a punishment. In fact, the idea makes me wet again.

  There’s no way I’m making it through something like that with a straight face.

  I’m a grown woman. The idea of a man punishing me makes me giggle.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Whoops! I need to be a little more discreet with my expressions.

  “Nothing.”

  “What did we discuss about answering my questions? Are you really that eager to feel the heat of my hand?”

  Well, that answers one question. A spanking it will be.

  I burst out laughing because my mind perverts a common children’s nursery rhyme.

  Instead of ‘The Farmer in the Dell,’ I’m singing ‘A spanking we will go. A spanking we will go. Hi-ho the derry-o, A spanking we will go.’

  He pulls me to him, dragging me up the bed until I’m kneeling in the V between his legs.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  I can’t stop laughing. I’m too far gone. I double over and then topple as laughter bursts from my mouth.

  All of a sudden, the world is spinning. Edge has me in his arms. He’s lifting me.

  Positioning me.

  I’m across his lap. I give a squeak when I realize how I’m placed over his legs. Then I yelp as his palm cracks against my ass.

  Smack. Smack. Smack!

  He gives me three hard smacks. There’s nothing gentle or erotic about what he does. It stings. And burns! I’m yelping and trying to wriggle off his lap.

  Smack. Smack. Smack!

  “Oh my God!” I twist away and try to cover my ass from the assault of his hand.

  He grabs my wrists and holds them high on my back. I’m effectively restrained, even more so when he takes one leg and braces it over both of mine. Caught in a vise, I can’t move. I can’t escape.

  Smack. Smack. Smack!

  “When I ask a question, I demand an answer. This is the power you give to me.”

  “That hurts!”

  “Not as much as this last one.”

  The final strike has me seeing stars. A strangled scream erupts from my throat as fire burns my backside. It’s hot and throbbing. There’s nothing erotic about this.

  Until he begins smoothing the ache away with the palm of his hand.

  There’s a brutal sensitivity to his touch, hard followed by soft. He doesn’t let me out of the vice grip of his leg. Nor does he release his hold on my hands. I’m unable to move and forced to endure his tenderness.

  “Now…” His voice is calm, soothing. Despite the aggressiveness of the spanking, there’s no anger or irritation to be found. “Tell me what was going on in that head of yours.”

  This time, I don’t hesitate. There’s no way I want a repeat of ten swats of his hand.

  I tell him about my rendition of The Farmer in the Dell as he kneads my tender flesh.

  “Hmm, now that is not what I was expecting. Tell me, does the thought of being spanked turn you on?”

  I shake my head. “No. That hurt!” I struggle to free my wrists, but it’s like moving a mountain. He’s bigger and stronger than me. I’m not moving a muscle unless it’s by his will.

  “That was your first punishment, pain not pleasure, and I was very careful to go easy on you.”

  “Easy?” That didn’t feel easy at all. My butt aches and feels like it’s swelling.

  “Yes,” he says. “Future punishments will not be that short, or that soft.”

  I stiffen in his lap and notice the hard length of him poking against my stomach. That turned him on?

  Hell, now I’m getting turned on by the realization spanking excites him. I must be fucked in the head. I squirm in his lap and he places his palm against my lower back. His cock twitches and hardens even more.

  “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

  “You’re getting hard.” There’s no hesitation with my answer. I don’t want a repeat of that spanking. Or do I?

  “Spanking you excites me.”

  “That really, really hurt!”

  “It wasn’t meant to tickle.”

  That something like that turns him on does crazy things to me. I’m aroused again.

  I shake my head. “I guess, I wasn’t expecting it.”

  “Punishments are meant to grab your attention. We need to discuss it.”

  “We do?”

  “Yes. I’ve taken liberties, using my experience and working on a hunch as to how you’re wired.”

  “I was being disrespectful and you were…”

  “Enforcing discipline.”

  “Yes.”

  “And how did it make you feel?”

  “I-I’m not sure.”

  “Were you angry?”

  “Yes!”

  “Did I grab your attention?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Did it turn you on?”

  “No.”

  He arches a brow.

>   I squirm a little and press my thighs together. It’s an attempt to soothe the needy ache pulsing between my legs. There’s no reason to answer his question. He already knows what I’m going to say. But I do answer. I know what will happen if I don’t.

  “Yes, I think, but I don’t understand it.”

  “Knowing I’ll follow through on my intent defines our roles. It’s a powerful realization of the differences between us. Spanking turns me on, but that’s not why you are aroused.”

  “It’s not?” How would he know?

  “You feel the shifting of power between us. It’s your submission reaching out to meet my dominance. You need to know there are boundaries and consequences when they’re breached. If I establish rules, or guidelines for what I expect from you, but never enforce those rules, it leads to confusion on your part. Why wouldn’t you act out? Testing is natural, and I’ll guide you through your journey with a stern hand and clear expectations. Outright disobedience is not the failure of a submissive. That fault lies squarely on the shoulders of the Dom. You’re aroused from that spanking because your body understands this fundamental shift. Your mind is struggling to catch up.”

  “Really?”

  He pulls me against his chest. “You need to know the trust you put in me is not misplaced. That not only am I capable of dominating you, but that I’ll go through with what I say. I’m determined to fulfill my role, and you can expect me to do so, whether with pleasure or pain. But you also need to know, and trust, that I won’t hurt you in the process.”

  “I am a little concerned about that.”

  We’re in dangerous territory and I’m not sure I’m safe.

  As titillating as it might be to broaden my sexual horizons, I’m not dismissing the risk.

  A man put me over his lap and spanked me. That act is the very definition of assault. I should be running for the hills.

  I take a long moment to really look into Edge’s eyes. I don’t see the mind of an abuser. I’m not getting a misogynistic vibe; quite the opposite. I’m feeling cherished and protected. I’m surrounded by his strength, not smothered by it. There’s something else there as well. He wants control. I find that incredibly sexy.

  “It’s time to discuss your limits.”

  Chapter 14

  For the next two hours, we cuddle on the bed. Edge is marking off an eye-opening list.

  I saw the list earlier, when I was with the girls. I made it through the first page, skimmed most of the middle, and then got scared with the things on the last page. Some of them disgust me.

  We make it through the first half of the page and sort out the sexual things I will and will not do.

  He likes anal.

  It terrifies me.

  I’m afraid that if I ever do that I’ll get stretched out too far and accidentally shit on myself. Living a life of incontinence is enough to put that firmly on my Red list.

  We’re working on three lists: red, yellow and green. I’ve said green to everything except anal and swallowing.

  I don’t mind giving blow jobs, but I can’t get past the texture of seminal fluid. It makes me retch thinking about it. Edge says nothing when I tell him green to blowjobs but hard red on swallowing. I’m not sure if my answers offend him, but he’s been clear on his instructions.

  My goal isn’t to fear his reactions to my limits. I’m not to be afraid to speak plainly, or to force myself to do something I’m not comfortable with.

  We’re talking about impact play now, having moved from all the ways to have sex.

  “Spanking,” he says, “am I right to assume that’s a green for you?”

  I’m draped over his lap and he’s rubbing where he spanked me earlier. I give a little giggle, then squeak at the light slap he delivers.

  “Answer the question.”

  “Yes, spanking is okay.”

  We continue on, talking about floggers, crops, canes, and other devices. I stop him several times to ask what certain things are before putting them on the red list.

  “Hmm,” he says. “I have a proposition for you.”

  I wriggle out of his lap and shift to sit where I can see him better.

  He’s upset I’m placing so many things on the red list.

  I know these limit what he can do, but I’m trying to be safe, and rational, and not lose my mind. There’s a degree of control from having the ability to define what I will and won’t allow him to do. I need that reassurance.

  “A proposition?” I try to instill cheer to my tone of voice, but I’m worried. He’s disappointed. I can feel it.

  “I want to add a fourth category. We’ll call it Revisit Red.”

  “What?”

  “There’s a lot about what we do here which is new to you and a lot of it is scary. We’re also very new to each other. A limits list is inviolate. Whatever you put as red is something I’ll honor and respect. Your boundaries are important, but I’m concerned fear and lack of understanding are playing too much of a role here.”

  I knew it. He’s disappointed, but if I change any of those to yellow, he decides how and when to introduce them.

  Not me.

  There are a lot of scary things on that list.

  He didn’t say Yellow, silly!

  “Um, what’s a Revisit Red?”

  “Simple, we continue to fill this out. Once we’re done, I want to go through everything you marked as red and place them into two categories. The first is something you’ll never consider. It violates a moral code or you feel it places you in danger. Everything else, I’d like for you to consider placing under Revisit Red. Once a week, on your own, you’ll revisit your list. Based upon what we’ve done together, and what you’ve learned from the other girls, you can present to me a list of those things you’re willing to move to yellow.”

  I know he’s explaining something, but all I hear is once a week. We’re not supposed to be together for more than the few hours until dawn finds us.

  One night.

  He’s bought be for one night.

  There’s a sinking feeling in my gut as I look at him.

  “What do you mean by once a week?”

  He bends forward and cups my cheeks in his massive hands. “I mean exactly what that says.”

  “But, I thought after tonight…”

  “I’ve bought more than a single night of your time, little mouse. Didn’t you hear me when I said I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you?”

  “How much did you buy?”

  I know the number I scrawled down for a week of my time. The girls convinced me to increase it to fifty-thousand dollars. For charity. Evidently, Edge thinks I’m worth far more than I do.

  “You paid—”

  He silences me with a kiss and my body melts beneath the heat of his kiss. Then he pulls back.

  “What can I say? I would’ve donated whether you had shown up on my doorstep or not. But you did, and you presented something I couldn’t imagine slipping through my fingers.”

  “What is that exactly?”

  It’s hard to hear him because my pulse roars past my ears. My heart thumps, banging against the cage of my chest and I find it hard to breathe. Edge purchased me not for a night, and not for a week. He said once a week. Once a week, I’m to revisit my list.

  Fifty-thousand was my price for a week of my time. I’d added a zero to that number for a month. He’d donated half a million dollars to a charity for the privilege of having me for a month.

  There’s not enough air in here!

  Blackness rushes in from the edges of my vision moments before I collapse in Edge’s arms. The entire world goes blank and the last thought running through my mind is…One month.

  He owns me for one month!

  Chapter 15

  I wake in Edge’s warm embrace. Hands glide through my hair, tugging at the roots before finding knots to untangle.

  “What happened?” I peek up into a very concerned face.

  “You hyperventilated and passed out.”<
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  I struggle in his grip, trying to right myself, but he gives a tsk. I still and give in to the heady sensation of being held tight by an amazing man.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Want to tell me what happened?” He soothes me as he strokes my hair. Every time he reaches near the ends, his fingers grip the strands and give a slight pull. The sensation is soothing and I’m pretty sure I could stay like this forever.

  “I do, but I’m not sure I understand.”

  The thing is, I want to spend more than a night with Edge, but there’s a problem.

  Two problems.

  The second is the most concerning. The first is merely me being silly. How do I explain either?

  “Talk to me.” His low, throaty growl instills obedience, but I need a moment.

  “I need to use the restroom.”

  It’s not a lie. I really do have to pee, almost as much as I need a moment away from the intoxication of his presence.

  He releases me and helps me scoot to the edge of the bed. With a backward glance, and half a smile, I make my way to the facilities. After taking care of business, I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face, then brace myself against the counter.

  It’s time to face what happened.

  Get a grip girl! Isn’t this what you want?

  Not really.

  If it hadn't of been for that detour and the nail that punctured my tire, I never would have met Edge. I would never have known this existed. Yet, the truth isn’t something I can deny. I want everything this man represents.

  Only, I don’t want it for a month.

  My life is irrevocably changed by the events of this evening and there’s no way I’ll be able to go back to the way things once were.

  Vanilla.

  That’s what my existence prior to this night is called by those indoctrinated in the lifestyle.

  Plane Jane, boring, vanilla.

  I don’t want to go back to living that way. I never knew what I was missing. Now I do. And there’s a man in the other room willing to teach me everything…for a month of borrowed time.

  Not borrowed. I’m bought and sold goods.

  There’s a soft knock on the door.

  “Everything okay?” Edge asks.

  “Yes.” This may be the first lie I tell Edge, and I cringe with that knowledge. I don’t want to poison what we’re building between us.