by Flora Dain
Soon it hardly matters. I’m twitching all over, fizzing with arousal from both its sting and its caress. I begin to tremble.
His fingers slide into me, sending steady, pulsing bolts of arousal all through me. A trickle of juice, warm as honey, runs down the inside of my thigh and I hear him draw in a labored breath.
This affects him too.
“You’re very wet and swollen now. Does this arouse you, Tunis? Tell me.” He sounds husky with emotion, almost hoarse.
I gasp as the whip lands again, close to my nipple. It’s barely a tap, but I jerk at the shock.
“I said tell me.”
“Yes. Yes—it does.”
It lands again, harder this time, on my still-tender bottom.
“It does—what?”
“It does—Sir.”
It goes on, light, teasing—but relentless. Sometimes the blows whisper over my skin like silk, sometimes they sting. Each one sends a jolt of electricity straight to my groin, too sharp to ignore, too light to make me come.
I’ve no idea where it’s going to land next. Soon I’m almost feverish, twitchy with arousal, aching for relief.
I grow weepy. When a precise blow lands squarely over first one tight, quivering breast then the other, I cry out without thinking, “Stop.”
Instantly the air around me stills. I hang limp in my chains for a moment, panting.
“Tunis? What’s the matter? Too much?”
I nod in my private darkness. “Enough, please. I can’t take any more right now. It’s so…” To my horror I feel tears well up underneath the mask then, all at once, I’m being unfastened. He gathers me up in his arms and carries me a little way then I’m lying down.
He pulls away the blindfold and he’s sitting over me, his expression troubled. I blink up at him, my skin on fire. A tear trickles into my hair.
“What’s wrong? Tell me.”
“It’s just… It’s so intense.”
I close my eyes briefly and feel him stretch out at my side. We’re lying on a wide, upholstered bed covered in satin. It feels silky and cool against my flaming skin.
At the corners are ornately carved bedposts in dark, polished wood. In place of drapes, they’re festooned with chains and cables.
This is not a bed for sleeping in. The thought jerks me awake.
He’s watching me lazily, like he’s tracking my thoughts. “Feeling better?”
What a strange question. As his gaze burns into me, the tingles on my skin are blending everywhere into a hot, golden glow. To my surprise, I feel terrific—but strangely unfulfilled.
“I’m fine.” I manage a shaky smile.
He frowns. “What? Tell me.”
“I… It’s just… I want something more.” I stop, horrified at myself.
What am I saying? The walls are festooned with tools of torment. Goodness knows what he’ll use next. “I can’t explain it…” My eyes brim with tears. I feel like an idiot. “Cade, what’s happening to me?”
He touches my cheek. “It’s okay. It’s normal. Some people get emotional their first time. People have been known to faint.”
He pauses to let the meaning of his words sink in.
I sit up slowly. “You mean…that girl on the stretcher passed out from emotion?”
His eyes flicker. “Sure. It happens. Some run for the hills. Some pass out.”
His eyes crinkle with amusement. “We’ll finish here for now.”
He takes off my cuffs, drapes the short robe around my shoulders and leads me back to the elevator. As it rises to the top floor, he looks me over critically.
He touches my breasts, my hips and my thighs with light, soothing fingers and the absorbed air of a craftsman surveying his handiwork. “The marks should be gone by morning. Ah, we’re here.”
He ushers me to the bathroom, gives me a few minutes then signals me to stand in the shower. He massages soothing shower gel all over my tingling body while I lean against him, sleep creeping up on me like honey.
He tests the spray on his fingers then hoses me down, holding me with his gaze as I alternately shiver and sigh under the teasing jet of water.
He makes me open my legs to allow the jet into my most private places, and holds me still when I wriggle. “Hey, easy.”
He’s enjoying this too, still playing my arousal like an instrument. At last he swathes me in a large, fluffy towel and pats me dry. I lean against him, content and grateful.
“Feel better now?”
Surprisingly, I do. I ache all over but I feel tingly and somehow gloriously alive. “I feel terrific.”
He grins. “That’ll be the endorphins kicking in. You get a real high after a good whipping—strange, but true.” His voice lowers. “And now we come to your second punishment. Do you remember what it’s for?”
I stare at him. “What? Now?”
“Certainly now. You earned two punishments tonight. You’ve had only one. Answer me.”
I don’t play at this. His face grows still. His smile has vanished. “I’m waiting.”
Fear uncurls deep in my belly and with it, heat. My nipples tense then grow numb.
It’s all part of the dance. But now the moves are clearer.
I can do this. “I forgot to say Sir?”
“Check. Stand facing the bed with your hands behind your back.”
Slowly I do so, feeling my center throb and my muscles tense.
“Now, bend right over and put your cheek on the bed. Keep your knees straight and your legs apart.”
Excitement mounts as I bend low, trying to appear graceful but keenly aware that my rear end is high in the air, leaving my slit wide and exposed.
He takes something out of his pocket and unfurls it in his hands. It’s hard to see what it is from down here. It passes through his hand with a soft hissing sound. My stomach clenches.
“This is a leather strap. I’m going to belt you with it twice. One.”
I yelp as the strap makes contact, so fierce it makes my eyes smart.
“Two.” It lands again. This time I clench my teeth and take the blow in silence.
At once his hands are cool and firm on my punished rear as he massages me with his thumbs. The sudden tenderness of his touch succeeds where the slash of pain failed and makes the tears spring.
Now the sharpness of the sting is fading into fierce golden heat. It glows everywhere south and fuses into a heavy, insistent throb deep between my legs.
“Lie down.”
He pushes me forward and I collapse onto the bed, spent and weepy. He flips me over then ties my wrists and my ankles to the bedposts. He uses the tasseled cords looping the drapes. When I’m tied fast, he tests the ties then holds my eyes with his as he eases his fingers into me, massaging gently.
Still pulsing with the rhythm of the blows, I shudder and let out a long sigh as my climax starts to build.
He pulls out his fingers and holds them over my face. “Lick them clean.”
I stare at his command as another throb deep between my legs urges me to obey.
Do it. Do anything. But please, please make me come. I lick and suck his fingers eagerly, tasting my own saltiness, relishing this tiny act of submission.
His breath quickens as he gives a low growl deep in his throat. “You’re good at this. I’m looking forward to you tasting the real thing.” His mouth captures mine with a surge of his tongue that makes my heart leap.
Now. Please, please…
Gradually he loosens the kiss, ending it with provocative touches of his lips as he shifts position. In seconds he’s kneeling beside me, his body curving over mine while he explores me with his mouth, his lips urgent, hungry, his tongue insistent. He fastens on one breast and sucks hard, sending lightning flashes through me as he draws away and licks my nipple with long sweeps of his tongue then fastens on my other breast with a muffled groan.
I arch to meet him as he travels lower, licking, nipping and sucking as he goes, lingering on my navel, along my belly, and
finally arriving at my thighs with another low growl. I writhe as his mouth fastens between my legs and his hungry tongue punches at my center, the little stabs of its tip driving me to frenzy.
After the harshness of the blows and the emotion of my tears, it’s all too much. I shriek as my climax surges up in an unstoppable tidal wave and crashes over me. Between my legs he laughs softly through his kiss and keeps his tongue firmly in place until the spasms die away, leaving me floating limp as a leaf in a sea of bliss.
I’m vaguely aware that he’s unfastening my wrists. I feel the touch of his lips on my forehead as he stretches out beside me. His arms fold around me and in seconds, I’m drifting into sleep.
Chapter Seven
“Call them by midnight. If I’m busy, text me. I want the whole deal wrapped up by tomorrow.”
Cade’s deep voice murmurs through my brain, along with the heavenly aroma of coffee. I open my eyes in a shaft of bright sunlight and blink.
Through the open door of my room, I can see him striding about his sitting room in a shower robe, coffee in one hand, phone in the other, a tousled, preoccupied Greek god.
My heart turns over.
As he dials again, a woman’s voice cuts in, too low for me to make out the words.
I stiffen. He’s got company.
I slip out of bed, snatch up the thin satin robe and peek cautiously through the door. A small table is laid with silver, snowy porcelain and the remains of breakfast. Close by, notebook in hand, stands Sonja, businesslike today in a prim skirt and crisp white blouse, her face hidden by a curtain of soft, shining hair.
She’s still murmuring something, but at that moment, Cade looks up and our eyes meet. He turns abruptly to Sonja, his tone curt. “That’s all for now. We’ll go over a few things on the way. And don’t forget the hat.”
Sonja tosses back her hair. “Yes, sir. And I’ll catch Mr. Simmons before he goes out.”
I take a step back as Cade walks over, darts me a warning look and softly closes the door.
In the shower I still tingle all over. I feel a throb down below and close my eyes briefly as I relive some of last night’s highlights. At last, when I’m sure Sonja’s gone I knot the sash of my short robe tightly round my waist and head for the sound and smell of breakfast.
As I step into his room, Cade’s pouring a fresh cup of coffee. He glances up with a smile, impish and appealing, designer ad made flesh.
He places the cup by my unused place and pulls out a chair for me to sit. “Morning. Sleep well?”
I smile a greeting as I take my seat and close my eyes briefly as he stoops to kiss my cheek. He smells heavenly—all damp, fresh-washed hair, bergamot aftershave and clean, wholesome male.
“Why does Sonja need a hat?” She’ll need more than a hat to catch Jake. He’s been in a mood ever since we got here.
Cade throws me a glance, his expression stern. “She needs a hat for the same reason you do. We’re going out for the day, and you’re both dressing up to the nines.”
I pause, orange juice partway to my lips. “We are? But I don’t have a hat.”
He smiles airily as he sits opposite. “You’ll find one somewhere among those costumes you fill so beautifully. And I must congratulate Sonja on her dress sense. The things I’ve seen on you so far look terrific.”
So, Sonja bought them. I suppress a twinge of irritation. “They certainly fit well. So she could always find work as a personal shopper if she falls foul of you?”
I’m still drowsy and I speak without thinking. His face darkens slightly. Is he always this touchy first thing?
Light dances over his lean jaw and long, sculpted mouth. It strikes me that I’ve never seen anyone so handsome.
What is it about him? I work in TV. I meet good-looking men all the time. Even Jake’s pretty fetching in his way. But Cade Fitzlean’s the real deal, full-on, megawatt film-star. Something about him stops people in their tracks.
I must watch myself here. Charm’s one thing—losing your head to it is quite another. That’s unforgiveable—and naïve.
And, in his case, probably futile. I always seem to annoy him. Now he’s looking at me coldly. “Sonja fall foul of me? That’s pretty unlikely. I’ve no intention of letting her go. She’s far too efficient. Did you enjoy last night?”
I tear my eyes and my thoughts away from his face and take a croissant from the fragrant pile heaped in a silver basket lined with fine linen. It’s deliciously light and warm.
I try to sound neutral. “Thank you, yes. And I enjoyed sleeping it off. I’d had a long day.”
His long mouth twists at the corner. “Well, today will be longer. We’re going to a christening.”
“The gardener’s new baby?”
“Check. I’ve cleared my engagements for the day. I sent Sonja to drag out your boyfriend and put him in a suit. And he’s bringing a camera.”
“What about the one you smashed yesterday?” As yesterday’s events rush back, I leap automatically to Jake’s defense. “He loved that camera.”
I falter and drop the croissant back on my plate as I recall those terrible seconds before I heard it smash.
That might have been me.
Jake went too far, but he meant no real harm. He never does.
The man sitting opposite me is a different matter. I know nothing about him—only that he wants to do strange things to me, things that for some unknown reason, I want too. But I’m not sure I should.
Hard to say which of the two is more dangerous.
I steady my nerves with a sip of juice.
He’s frowning. “He’ll get a replacement. We’ll lend him another till then. Today’s a private family occasion. I need a cameraman who’s good with a handheld so he won’t be too obtrusive. I’ve asked him to film everything.”
“But…I thought you didn’t trust him?”
Something flickers in his eyes and his jaw stiffens. “Around you? Definitely not. But his work’s good. And, more to the point, he’s available.”
I down my orange juice and prepare for battle. “But he’s working for us. We’re on a tight schedule as it is, thanks to you.”
The sulky satyr vanishes as the tough CEO snaps back at me. “He’s taking a day out from the schedule. You too. And don’t let him get you alone. I mean it.”
Crossly I reach for the silver coffee pot and curse as some of it splashes on the tablecloth. My heart sinks. We’re fighting already and the day’s barely begun.
“Here. Let me do that.”
I feel his hand on my wrist. His fingers are firm, his skin faintly bronzed. Fine hairs gleam along the edges of his expensive-looking watch. His touch sends a shimmer all along my arm.
I draw a long, calming breath. “So… Why me? Does it need all four of us, this private family occasion?”
Carefully he takes the coffee pot out of my grasp and fills my cup. Like the thin stream of dark liquid pouring from the spout, his wrist is steady and strong.
“I want you to be there.”
Now he’s deliberately messing up our schedule. I press my lips together as resentment builds. “Why? So I can see you playing at being the generous employer, barging into a private family event and turning it into a personal photo op? I suppose you’ll be dazzling everybody with some extravagant christening gift as well?”
He leans back in his chair. “I will, as it happens. You.”
“Me?”
He’s grinning broadly now, like I’m missing the joke. “You. Martin the gardener asked me to get your autograph for his wife. She’s a big fan of yours. I thought I’d go one better and take you with me. You can do it in person. Your boyfriend can film it all and Sonja can take notes. And mind you look stunning, because today you’re the star of the show—so wear a hat.”
* * * *
Luckily I’ve brought one or two cocktail dresses. I rummage quickly through my well-stocked dressing room and unearth some costly shoes, a couple of hats and a marabou fascinator squeezed in among
the satin corsets, bondage harness and assorted fetish wear.
They’ve still got labels attached. The price tags make me catch my breath.
But now I’ve got a show to put on. Soon I’m in performance mode and in a surprisingly short time, I’m ready.
When I head downstairs to find the others, I’m sleek in bright turquoise Thai silk, my hair falling in a long, gleaming coil down one shoulder. My simple sheath dress is set off with gloves, high-heeled sandals and a tiny clutch bag. A wide-brimmed straw hat swings loosely from one hand.
This is Mrs. Martin’s day, so I make a special effort.
It seems to work. I’m gratified to see heads turn as I cross the entrance hall and join the others on the steps looking out over the drive. The two men look a little taken aback.
Sonja’s prettier than ever, a porcelain doll in pale shell pink with a matching hat trimmed with a white flower, the ice melting now. “Oh, Miss Vale, you look lovely.”
Her warmth takes me by surprise. I smile back, genuinely pleased. “You too. And it’s Tunis, please. Clever of you to get Jake into a suit. He hates dressing up in the daytime.”
To complete my surprise, even Jake’s mood has lifted. He seems distinctly upbeat this morning. He grins and makes a small bow. “Anything to please a lady.”
Behind him Cade looks away and avoids my eye. I guess words have passed between them but I’m glad their spat has been patched up for today, at least.
* * * *
Soon we’re all cushioned in the luxury of a swift, silent limo, Cade’s regular driver a bulky presence at the front. The interior is roomy and quiet. As we leave the soft Devon parklands of Beat Hall and head north along the Severn estuary into Wiltshire, Cade and Sonja become absorbed in business. He dictates notes for meetings and conference calls while Sonja cuts in occasionally to check dates, times and numbers of people attending.
I lean over to whisper to Jake. “Sorry yesterday turned into such a big deal. Are you okay?” I keep my voice low so as not to disturb the others, but instantly I feel Cade’s eyes burning into me. I resolutely ignore him.