The Izzy and Seb Collection: The Evermore Series Books 1, 2 and 2.5

by Rachel De Lune

  My black patent heels are my go-to choice, but I opt for my dusky pink heels with a black lace pattern, a t-bar and ankle strap. They have a small platform so I can walk comfortably in them. Just.

  My nerves make me fidget in the back seat of the taxi. Butterflies are awake in my stomach at the thought of seeing Seb once more, feeling him touch me, and hopefully going further. He asked me to think about where my limits were to our arrangement. I knew sex wasn’t one of them, but I hadn’t figured out the rest. My mind skips back to the images of women from my Tumblr, bound, flogged, laid out for the pleasing of someone else. My body hums with energy. My excitement makes me light-headed.

  Calm down, Izzy! I’m not even with him yet and I’m already dizzy for him. I don’t even know what he’s going to do to me, but the unknown is a part of the buzz. The uncertainty and the danger all fuse together into a naughty mix of emotions which I relish.

  I watch the road ahead of me. The lights contrast with the black night and I become lost in the darkness, thinking of my evening of pleasure.

  I pay for the taxi and step out. For a moment, I am rooted in place. I need a few moments to compose myself and prepare for what may happen. Although I’m excited, there is still a small part of me that understands that this isn’t right. My yo-yo mind relaxes, and I advance towards the lift and press the button to call it down. As the numbers descend, my heart hammers in my chest. The lift slows and the doors open. He said he wanted to finish our conversation, and that he wants to be there to support me through every step. I’m hoping that he will be a lot more physical with me than just offering his verbal support. I’m hoping for his hands over my body, making my pussy wet and my clit throb, and then commanding me to do whatever he wants. I’m not quite ready for the deep and meaningful yet. After I exit on Seb’s floor and let myself in, I walk through the apartment and head straight for my room. On the dressing table in its box is my anklet. The velvet box is soft in my hand and squeaks as I open it up. The anklet sits there, winking at me. All the excitement and pleasure that it can unlock twinkles and entices me. I quickly pull it from its velvet bed and bend down to fasten it around my ankle before heading into the kitchen. The wine glasses are waiting on the counter and the Sauvignon Blanc is chilling in the fridge. I open it, pour two glasses, and then seat myself on a bar stool.

  I check my watch. 6:55 p.m. Five minutes to spare. The crisp and fruity liquid floods my mouth as I take a sip. I remember how I felt prior to hearing Seb’s voice on the phone Wednesday evening—exhausted, deflated and shut down. He’s already shown me how easily I respond to his words and his touch. But there is still part of me closed to him. I want to change that. I want to let him in, not just physically, but emotionally as well.

  The sound of the door shutting startles me.

  “Good evening, Isabel.” Seb walks through the sitting area to join me in the kitchen. His hand captures my loosely plaited hair and smooths it over my shoulder with a gentle tug. Soft lips brush my cheek with such deliberate poise that my breath hitches.

  “Good evening, Sebastian. Your wine.” I offer him the glass I poured a few moments ago and place a sweet kiss on his lips.

  “Thank you. Cheers.” His glass clinks with mine. I smile and look up into his beautifully dangerous eyes. I watch him as his gaze runs down my body, taking in my legs and pausing at my feet.

  “I hope you’ve got some time tonight. I have a lot planned for us. First things first, however. Dinner. It will take a few minutes to prepare. ”

  “I have time.”

  “Excellent. Don’t drink more than one glass of wine with dinner.” His usual sexy smile’s back, teasing me with those words. What if I have too much to drink? What would waking up with Seb be like? Would he let me stay the night?

  “Okay, one glass, then.” I smile in return, pleased to see things seem as normal as they have always been with us.

  “Dinner will be simple and sweet tonight. I’m preparing spaghetti with tomato sauce and parmesan.”

  He’s spoiling me with his care and it means everything. The novelty of a man making dinner for me touches a vulnerable place inside. It’s a rarity that anyone ever cooks for me. I watch him prepare the food. It wouldn’t matter what he prepared, I’d eat it because he’d made it for me.

  “I love Italian and that sounds great. I’ve hardly eaten all day.”

  “Why is that, Isabel? You need to eat. Make sure you eat properly.” His tone is clipped but I don’t take offence.

  “I had a busy day and I had somewhere I wanted to be fairly early tonight.” I dip my head and look up at him through my lashes.

  “Is that right?” He reaches for me, taking my face in his hands, and rewards me with a deep kiss. His lips press into mine and I open my mouth to him willingly. The strokes of his tongue across my bottom lip instantly heat my blood. Goose bumps cover my skin and my legs want to open to him. His tongue pushes into my mouth and I push back, showing him I’m willing and definitely wanting in this. But he pulls away and moves down my jaw to my neck, taking my pulse with each kiss. I moan, unable to stop myself. Do that again. Keep kissing my neck, there… again.

  I melt as he trails kisses across my collarbone and up the other side of my neck. He takes his time. Lazy licks and wet kisses continue until he reaches my ear. As his teeth close around my lobe, my pussy pulses at the wild desire he stirs within me. He bites a fraction harder, kicking my lust up to knicker-wetting levels. Jeez!

  “I could make this last all evening, Isabel. I think you would be happy for that.” His whisper titillates as his hand runs up the inside of my leg. Passing the top of my thigh highs, he slides his hand to my pussy. His touch is barely there before he slides under the edge of my knickers and strokes down my slit.

  “Oh, Isabel, wet already and I’ve barely touched you.” His velvet words send shivers down my spine. I try to readjust my sitting position so he can touch me deeper. The ache from my sex screams for attention, for Seb to do more, push his finger inside me, here in the kitchen.

  “No, Isabel. You’ve been a naughty girl this week and haven’t completed your homework. As much as I would love to make you come with nothing other than my hand, I have much more planned.”

  Naughty. I like being called naughty. Shockingly, I want Sebastian to show me exactly what he does to a naughty girl. But I can’t say anything. My cheeks heat and I have to close my eyes and breathe deeply to calm down. His lips barely touch my ear and I can hear his breathing. He’s affected as much as I am.

  “You need to know how ready you are, Isabel, how ready your body is. I’ve only just begun and you are already turned on to the point that I could slide my fingers inside you easily. You want this, don’t you? I want you to tell me how much you want this.” The drop in his voice oozes sex. It’s hypnotic. He could read the label on a jar of marmite and I would find it sexy. My mind takes a moment to register that he’s actually asked me a question and is waiting for a response.

  “Uh-huh,” is all I can manage. My pussy is desperate and achy, and I can feel my throat tighten. Nervous anticipation creeps through me as his words make me feel almost queasy.

  “You can do better than that, Isabel. I want you to tell me how you are feeling, what you want.”

  I start to inwardly plead—again. Please, no. Don’t make me say it. I want you to do it to me, not tell you about it. Touch me, make me stand up and bend me over the bar, spank me again and tell me I’ve been naughty before fucking me.

  “I’m waiting, Isabel.” His command sends me over the edge.

  “I, uh, want…” My voice is breathy and I’m finding it very hard to concentrate on speaking. “I want you to… touch me. To undress me and bend me over the bar again… To, um, spank me and then… and then fuck me.” My panting breaths don’t deliver the oxygen I need to stop me from shaking. My mouth is dry and my heart is pounding. None of that can destroy my personal triumph at saying the words. I did it!

  “Very good, Isabel. That sounds ver
y good, and believe me, fucking you while you lean over this bar, feeling your pussy quiver in need while I thrust into you before forcing you to come, is something I will be doing to you.” He cages me with his body, crowding my space, and all I can do is breathe him in. “But not tonight.”

  I hear the grin in his words and a small part of me likes that he’s enjoying this. The rest of me is in open rebellion at being denied. Sebastian pulls away from me, his hands sliding down my arms to my hands. I open my eyes and am met with his beautiful eyes. They are a clear blue now, icy and cool in colour, hiding all the lust and danger that I saw earlier tonight.

  “Isabel, let me be very clear about what you are asking for. You want your experience of submission to me to include intercourse.”

  “Yes.” My mind is still locked in the fantasy I described to him.

  “Okay. We need to finish our conversation from the other evening. I think over dinner would be a good start.”

  No, I don’t want to talk! I nod. It’s all I can do at the moment. He’s done it again. I’ve told him what I want, even though I really didn’t want to. How does he do it?

  “Good. Stay here and finish your wine while I put the pasta together.” All of a sudden, he is back to charming Seb. He releases my hands and walks around to the other side of the kitchen, giving me a very clear view of his bum. His very, very fine bum. He collects all the ingredients together and starts the water boiling.

  “Isabel, you told me why you failed your homework on Wednesday, but completed it yesterday. Can you tell me why you did that?” He continues in his preparations as he asks the question, and I’m taken aback.

  What do you mean, why did I do it yesterday? You said I had to do it, not to forget about it. Were you tricking me?

  “I wanted to do it,” I answer as simply as I can. “I wanted to please you.”

  “Good. That’s very good. Do you like how it makes you feel?”

  “Yes.” My reply is laced with nerves and I drop my head to look at my feet. He can’t even see me.

  The rich, sweet aroma of tomato and basil fill the kitchen and my stomach rumbles. In an attempt to stall this conversation, I ask how much longer dinner will be.

  “Only a minute or two. We’ll eat at the bar tonight. Will you please grab some place settings and refill my wine.”

  Good, it’s worked.

  “Don’t think I’m done with you, Isabel.”

  I do as he asked and then sit while he serves a delicious looking pile of spaghetti. I wait for him to sit next to me before I pick up my fork. As I take my first bite, he places his hand just above my knee. I pause. My heartbeat hitches before I allow myself to take the first mouthful. Again, as the fork touches my lips, he runs his hand under my dress to mid-thigh. His touch is distracting. I don’t know what I should do. Do I continue eating? Yes, yes, of course. But the feel of his hand on my leg sends sparks all over my body. I don’t know what to concentrate on, the food or his touch.

  “Enjoying your food, Isabel?”

  “It’s delicious, Sebastian. Thank you.” I look at the food and avoid his eyes, worried he’ll see the want hidden inside them.

  “You’re very welcome,” he purrs as he gently caresses my leg with one hand. He digs into his own dish with the other.

  Every time I bring a fork to my mouth, he squeezes, rubs or strokes my thigh, going higher or lower, teasing me as I try to concentrate on eating.

  Why is he doing this to me? He’s driving me crazy. I want him. He knows that already. Why is he teasing me? What does he want from me?

  It takes a lot longer than usual to finish a simple bowl of pasta, however delicious it is, but I finally clear my plate.

  “Well done, Isabel. I trust you enjoyed your meal?”

  “Yes, the spaghetti was delicious, thank you, although I was somewhat distracted.”

  “Well, I have some other distractions in store for you. That was simply the warm up. Now…” He moves off his stool and stands in front of me. He twists my seat so I am no longer facing the bar. His stance is harder and the air is filled with the crackle of tension. I’m inwardly hoping he’ll re-consider turning down the bar sex. “I want you to follow every one of my instructions.”

  The authority he puts behind those words nearly brings me to my knees. All the air in my lungs leaves my body and my pulse races. Bar sex forgotten for now, all my mind focuses on is Sebastian and doing what he wants. Dear Lord!

  “Slide off the stool, Isabel, and kiss me.”

  My body instantly obeys. I look up at him. I’m drawn to his crystal cool blue eyes that give nothing away—no sign of what runs through his mind.

  I want to pour all my need and hurt into one small physical act. I place my hands on his hard chest and slowly run them up towards his neck as he bends to meet my lips. Leaning in, I press mine against his, slowly to start with, gently moving and opening my mouth. I slide my tongue against his lips. Sparks ignite at every place we touch. Greedily, I pull his head harder in to me and run my hands through his hair as I breathe out and open my mouth fully to him, showing him how much I want to obey. As my passion grows, so does the force of our tongues, duelling and tasting each other. His lips scorch mine with his lust, wiping away any shred of doubt in my mind of his desire for me. My lips press back, wanting to get as close to him as I can. My chest heaves against Seb’s as I fight to balance my breaths. My heart beat drums through my ears, dulling everything else around me. He stops.

  He pulls back and takes a step away. My body and my lips miss his contact and I have to hold myself in check before I reach out for him. “Thank you, Isabel. Now walk into the front room and strip for me. Slowly.”

  With my heart still pounding, I step towards the living area and stop. With my back to him, I look down at my shoes, hoping he’ll let me keep them on. You’ve done this for him before. Take your clothes off. Don’t think. Act. You’re only wearing underwear and a dress. It won’t take long.

  I count to ten and then pull myself up to my full five-feet-three-inches. The zip is within my grasp. I draw it down the side of my dress and open it.

  “Stop.” I hear his voice and the thud of his shoes walking to me. He passes me and sits back in one of the armchairs to the side of me. “Now, stand in front of me and look at me as you take your clothes off.”

  Oh, shit!

  I turn around and look him in the eyes. Still nothing other than those beautiful colours reflect back at me, this time more green—perhaps from the darker lighting.

  Counting again, I slide the straps of my dress off my shoulders. I pause for a moment as it pools at my waist. I try, as seductively as my stiff and uncoordinated body can, to move my hips and wiggle the dress down to the floor. I step forward, closer to Sebastian and out of the dress, leaving my thigh highs, knickers, and bra in place.

  I reach around, unfasten my bra, and let it drop to the ground. Remembering his instruction to strip slowly, I attempt my own tease, knowing the knickers will help. I take each of the ribbons keeping my knickers together at the side and play the thick black fabric between the tips of my fingers. Slowly I begin to pull, millimetre by millimetre, until they unravel. The material unknots and the two triangles of black satin fall from my body.

  “Leave the rest on, Isabel.”

  I hear the edge in his voice. Those few words ignite my desire and send a sexy shiver through my body, giving me the reassurance that I’m desperately craving. Thank you. I love my heels! They give me some of the inner confidence of a sexy vixen. Without them, the plain girl I am takes centre stage.

  I remain standing, unsure of what to do next. I focus on breathing. In and out. In and out. He’s trying to get me comfortable with being naked in front of him, and I’m fighting the urge to cover myself every second. I am not going to break. I want to please him. His words guide my body into a place of comfort. Even if my mind isn’t there with it.

  “You are an amazingly alluring creature, Isabel. Exquisite. I could admire you for hours, bu
t for now I would like you to put this on.” He pulls a folded piece of black material out of his pocket. I reach out to meet his hand and recognise the silk blindfold he used on me the last time I was here. I unfold it and place it over my eyes, seeking comfort in the darkness. I tie it behind my head and drop my arms by my sides.

  “Now, don’t move unless I tell you to. Relax and listen to your body. If you’re uncomfortable at any point—and I mean it—just tell me and I’ll stop.”

  My body is already answering him. I have that ache in the pit of my stomach. My pussy has already been teased and wants more, but I stand still and wait for his instruction. The muffled sounds of him moving around me don’t help my restlessness. Not knowing what he’s doing adds to my apprehension. Suddenly I feel a hand around my ankle and fingers at my shoe strap.

  “Lift your foot.” I do as I’m told and he follows suit on the other leg, removing my shoes. His hands linger on my anklet.

  “I need to take your anklet off, but I’ll put it back on after I peel you out of your thigh highs.” The sound of those words while Seb’s hands are wrapped around my ankle sends my head reeling. He runs both hands up my right leg, to the top of the thigh high, and slides his thumbs underneath the lace trim. Keeping to his word, he peels it down the top of my thigh, skimming his fingers over my skin as he trails the material to my foot. I lift it again, unstable from the sensations he is creating in me. He repeats the leisurely seduction on my left leg. It is beyond erotic and I am ready to open my thighs to him. He seems to burn a trail on my skin with his touch, and I can feel myself growing wet.

  Before his hands leave me, he refastens the anklet, confirming I will do anything he asks of me tonight.