by M. Leighton
I wait anxiously at the bar, sipping on first one drink then another then another. Still no sign of Alec. My disappointment is keen. But so is my relief.
I turn toward the bartender, requesting a glass of water this time. Happily, he sets one on a napkin in front of me and I tag a long, refreshing gulp.
“New members, huh? Now I understand Carla’s ambiguity.”
My pulse leaps at the sound of his voice.
I turn slowly on my seat to face Alec. At first, I’m struck speechless. How I could forget how handsome he is, I’ll never know. I’ve thought all along that he is my real life Mason. But what I have just now come to realize is that he is so much more, so much better. Mason is a shadow of the man Alec is. And what I feel for him is a thousand leagues deeper than what Daire feels for her vampire.
This is love. Real love. And this is my last chance at it.
The stern set of his mouth assures me he’s not happy at the subterfuge, and behind his domino, his eyes are hard. But neither of those things stops me from melting over Alec—his scent, his eyes, his body. His soul. I love it all. I love him. Irrevocably.
“Can I get you a drink?” I ask, ignoring his comment.
He hesitates. Understandably. I was mean and ugly and childish when last we spoke. I’m surprised he didn’t turn right around and walk back out the door. The fact that he didn’t gives me hope. Tiny hope, but hope nonetheless.
This time, he ignores me. He asks the bartender for a glass of twenty-five year old Glenlivet and downs it in one long swallow, signaling him immediately for another. When the bartender places the second one in front of him, Alec takes the glass and turns to face me, leaning casually against the bar.
“I don’t suppose I need to ask what you’re doing here.”
“Don’t you?”
He raises one black brow, but says nothing, simply takes another sip of his scotch.
He sets the half full glass back on the bar and folds his hands in front of him, settling in to watch me in that unnerving way of his. It amplifies my jitters tenfold.
Clearing my throat, I give myself a mental shove and I take a step closer to Alec, looking up into his handsome face and light green eyes. “I never got the chance to apologize for that night. I never meant to get so ugly or to make you…to force you to…”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” he finally says, jumping in to save me. “That’s what happens between people like us.”
His comment stings, but I let it roll off me. Tonight, I can’t afford to let anything steal my focus. I have to do this, not only for Alec, but for me. I need to find a way to deal with my past, whether it mends things between us or not. I can’t live with this fear for the rest of my life.
I clench and unclench my fingers a couple of times to relax them before I make my move and reach for Alec’s hand. Slowly, with my eyes still on his, I slide my fingers over his palm. He grips my fingers and pushes away from the bar. He narrows his eyes on me, suspicious but intrigued, setting fire to my stomach. I smile at him and tip my head behind me, toward the steps, a silent indication for him to follow.
Still holding his hand, I turn toward the wide, curved staircase. Slowly and with great purpose, I mount each step, tugging Alec along behind me. With my every movement, I’m hyper aware of the clothing beneath my dress, of the fingers lying lightly in mine, of the man trailing along behind me. I remind myself that I trust him and that he’s worth this. And that I need it, and maybe he does, too.
I press on.
At the top of the stairs, I turn to the right, toward the room my things are in. All my senses are on high alert, but I’m not as nervous as I would’ve been had I not downed a couple of drinks before Alec arrived. I’m far from drunk, but it did manage to take the edge off.
I twist the knob and push open the door, stopping just outside it so Alec can look in. I’m sure he has an inkling of what I’m up to, but I want to give him the full effect.
Nearly every surface is covered in lit candles, giving the room a soft, dreamy feel that’s incongruous with the kinky paraphernalia scattered about. I watch Alec’s face as he scans the area, making note of several items before glancing back at me.
He says nothing, just arches that one brow. It’s almost like he’s daring me.
My stomach flips over. I tug on his hand, pulling him further into the room and closing the door behind him. I reach up to remove his domino. And then I remove mine.
“You promised you’d help me. And I’m not cured yet,” I explain as I reach for his tie, loosening the knot.
“Is that right?”
I nod, releasing the first button on his shirt and then letting my hands trail down his flat stomach to coyly graze the bulge behind his zipper.
I throw off every “Samantha” insecurity and embrace the brazen Laura Drake in me. I trade soft for sexy, docile for daring, fearful for fearless.
I cup him boldly, leaning in to whisper in his ear, “Now’s your chance to show me.” I nip his lobe, hard enough to feel it all the way in my stomach. There’s something intoxicating about being this way, about burying Samantha and all her issues for a little while and just feeling, exploring. Risking.
“Show you what,” he asks, his arm winding around my waist to pull me closer.
I lean back to look into his face. “Everything.”
Alec’s hand moves up my back and into my loose hair. I feel his fingers curl into a fist. “Are you sure you want to do this? Are you sure you’re ready?”
I cup his face in my hands and drag my tongue along his lower lip before I suck it into my mouth. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Alec’s hand tugs on my head, roughly angling it for his mouth. When it descends on mine, I taste his hunger. I taste the ravenous beast I’m attempting to unleash. And while there is excitement and anticipation and desire like nothing I’ve ever known, still, there is a dash of fear sprinkled among the rest. But Alec needs this. And so do I. It’s for those reasons that I continue.
I plant my hands against Alec’s chest and push with all my might. He lets me go, his breathing ragged and his eyes dark with wicked, feral passion.
I back away from him, reaching behind me to unzip my dress as I go. I pull the sleeves off my shoulders and let the garment fall to my waist, revealing the black gossamer teddy beneath.
Alec’s eyes travel to my length and back again, stopping to focus on my nipples. I feel them harden, ready for what’s to come. I know he can see them perfectly through the sheer material. It’s not meant to leave much to the imagination.
I stop and wiggle my hips, letting the material of my dress fall to a heap on the floor around my black high heels. I stand straight and tall before him, knowing that he can see every curve and valley and shadow, even in the pale candlelight. And he can see the delicate zippers that give him access to various body parts, all his for the quick flick of his fingers. But I’m sure he knows that. I found this among the items he ordered from Ursula. I was appalled at first. Now I’m excited.
Carefully stepping out of the puddle of my dress, I walk to the bed and climb onto it, standing with my legs spread and my hair teasing my shoulders. Alec’s eyes are like hot coals on me, burning every surface they touch, setting my world on fire.
Slowly, I reach down and take the zipper tabs that begin at my navel and I pull down and out, at an angle toward my hips. When the zippers stop, I tug and a large piece of sheer material falls away from my lower abdomen and crotch, leaving me bare from waist to groin. With a flourish I fling it to the side and drop to my knees on the bed, reaching to my left and right to take the ends of two black silk scarves tied to the bed. I wind them around my wrists.
“Show me,” I repeat, my eyes trained on his.
Alec hesitates only for a second. I’m not sure why, whether it’s the fact that I’m challenging him, or the thought that I might end up freaking out. Whatever the cause, it lasts only for a split second. I know the instant he gives in. I see it the moment
that the wild side takes over.
Walking slowly toward me, further loosening his tie and pulling it from around his neck, Alec puts one knee on the bed and reaches for my legs, jerking me roughly toward him. Twisting one hand in my hair, he yanks my head back and crushes his lips against mine, his tongue invading my mouth, demanding more of me than I’ve ever before given.
I’m breathless when he releases me. His eyes are steady on me as he reaches out to unwind the scarves from my wrists and bring my hands together in front of me. With three quick turns, he binds them together with his tie.
“Lie back,” he orders.
I pull my legs from beneath me and relax onto my back. I’m surprised when Alec walks around the bed and unties one of the black scarves. He kneels on the bed and drapes it over my eyes.
“Lift.” Obediently, I lift my head so he can make a knot in the material. My mouth is bone dry and my pulse is flying like a runaway train. I can see shadows and shapes through the thin scarf, but nothing clearly enough to make me feel comfortable.
For the space of one breath, I feel I’ve made a mistake. Now, I’m bound and blindfolded, basically at Alec’s mercy. In a way that I’ve feared more than anything for half of my life. And I did it willingly.
Because I trust him, I remind myself. And I love him.
I jump when I feel Alec’s fingers at my stomach. It’s the lightest brush, like butterfly wings, as he grips the zipper tongue and pulls it upward. There’s a soft click when it reaches the end of its track. With a tug, Alec frees the two halves of my top part, peeling them back to expose my breasts to him.
I hear the soft rustle of clothes as he moves. I don’t know if he’s undressing or walking around the room. Or both. The anticipation of what he might do, where he might touch is sweet torture.
A few seconds later, I feel his hand cup my right breast, kneading it, rolling and pinching the nipple. I feel the heat of his mouth closing over it at the same time that I feel the burn of hot wax hitting my navel.
I cry out and Alec bites down. Pleasure shoots through me, landing between my legs like a wet clap of thunder. I arch my back, straining for more of Alec’s mouth, but he doesn’t give it. He pulls away.
For a few seconds, there’s nothing. No sound, no touch, nothing but the tingle of my skin under the wax and the cool air tickling my face. Until Alec’s lips close over my other nipple. His mouth is cold and I gasp.
He teases me for a moment and then he’s gone again. I feel nothing until I hear Alec’s hiss followed by the blazing touch of his fingers. They’re covered in something scorching hot and sticky as they tease and rub my nipple.
I cry out again, writhing on the bed, never more in need of his touch at my core, never more in need of his penetration.
More rustling sounds just before Alec scoots me up the bed, toward the headboard. I hear the sound of a chain moving before he takes my bound hands and hooks them onto something that anchors them above my head.
I feel vulnerable. Exposed. I fight the urge to draw my legs up, to cover myself, to protect myself.
“Very good,” Alec says, as if reading my mind and commending my control.
I hear a buzzing sound and my stomach muscles clench. The first contact of the vibrator is the tip against my lips. Alec drags it over my mouth, back and forth. “Open,” he commands. I part my lips and he slips the rounded head into my mouth about an inch. “Lick it.”
I do, swirling my tongue around the smooth latex. It doesn’t have much of a taste, not nearly as strong as the rubber smell.
He slides it in a little further, gliding it between my lips and over my tongue. Abruptly, he withdraws it and the buzzing sound grows distant.
Every inch of my skin is alive with the anticipation of where he might touch me next. And with what. When I finally feel his palm against the inside of my thigh, warmth gushes through me, pooling a few inches from his hand.
He pushes on my legs, moving them further apart, spreading my body open for him. I gasp when I feel the tip of the vibrator graze my clitoris. Alec circles it before sliding down the crease of my lips then pushing it up into me. He moves the vibrator around, rotating it just inside my entrance, then retreating, teasing me mercilessly.
Then I feel his tongue. He licks lazily at my clitoris, like he’s lapping up fine cream, all the while penetrating me with the vibrator. Short strokes, in and out. He begins moving his hand and his lips faster and faster, pushing me further and further, until I’m grinding my hips against him. His tongue becomes more insistent as he moves the vibrator deeper and deeper, in and out.
The tension is building. I know what’s coming. I know what’s on the other side. And I’m helpless, literally helpless, to prevent it. I couldn’t escape if I tried.
I strain against my bonds, my back arching off the bed, my pelvis gyrating in time with Alec. And then his mouth is gone and he’s turning me onto my stomach, the chains moving easily with me as he urges me up onto my knees. I lean on my elbows, panting as Alec continues to thrust the vibrator into me.
I feel the hot sting of wax running over the curve of one butt cheek. One rivulet runs down into the crease. The other gathers into a pool on my lower back. I moan at the assault against my sensitized skin, but it only makes the soft lick of Alec’s tongue more pronounced.
I push back against his hand until it disappears. I hear his zipper and I hold back tears of desperation, never wanting to feel him inside me so badly before.
His hands brush my hips then my stomach as he rolls me onto my back. I feel him stretch over me and release my hands and then I feel the whisper of his breath as he hovers near my face, removing the blindfold.
I blink to adjust to the dim light. Above me, I see Alec’s handsome face, contorted in a way that closely mimics pain.
“I want you like this,” he says, his lips closing over mine as he pushes his body deep into mine.
I explode all around him. Wave after wave rolls over me, stealing my breath, my voice and my vision.
I can only hear—Alec whispering softly in my ear, telling me how perfect I am.
And I can feel—his lips on my chin, his teeth at my nipple, his body spewing hot liquid into mine.
My limbs are numb and my skin is tingling as I settle back down to earth. There’s only one thing on my mind as thought returns.
“Why did you let me go?”
Several seconds pass before Alec lifts his head and looks down at me. “You surrendered to me a long time ago. I just didn’t realize it until tonight. Tonight was about you, about you overcoming, about you giving me the most important thing you could give me.”
“But I—”
Alec cuts me off with a finger to my lips. “Shh,” he says softly, tilting his head and looking deeply into my eyes. He watches me for a long time before he brushes my bangs out of my eyes and tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear, like he’s done so many times before. “All good,” he croaks, his lips twisting into a small smile.
I smile up at him, my heart in my eyes. It’s not a question this time, but a statement. “All good,” I repeat.
And it is. For me anyway.
I’m unchained, both physically and emotionally. But I get the feeling that Alec isn’t. He’s still tethered to the past, to his guilt.
And I don’t know if I’m enough to set him free.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT- Alec
Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I turn on my internal clinical lamp and examine the situation.
On the one hand, I’m satisfied. Maybe more satisfied than I can ever remember being. But on the other hand there’s…something. And that is what’s making me restless.
Despite Samantha’s unconditional surrender to me, there’s something that’s still haunting me. As is the problem with most psychiatrists who try to heal themselves, I find that I’m too close to the subject matter to be objective.
Based on past endeavors, I know that at this point in our relationship, I should be feeling satiated,
very smug after Samantha’s submission. That is followed closely by a marked decline in interest. It’s the natural order of things after I achieve this…level with a woman. It rarely lasts past their surrender, body and soul. It sounds shallow and cavalier and monstrous, but it’s the truth.
But, largely, I feel neither, especially not the disinterest. If anything, I want to further explore Samantha and all her fascinating facets. Knowing I can make her feel things she’s never felt, knowing that I can make her open to me like she’s never opened up makes me feel gratified. And possessive. And hungry.
She’s so much more than I ever expected. And I feel so much more than I ever expected.
That doesn’t, however, erase this…other thing that niggles at me. This thing that still feels like guilt over Alyssa.
I don’t know how to overcome it. And, after all this time, I’m not sure I ever can.
********
When I take my slacks from the back of the chair and slip them on, Samantha stirs. I stop moving, hoping not to wake her. My mind is troubled and I don’t want to ruin her victory. She’s on cloud nine that she was able to both overcome her fear and satisfy me. I don’t want her to think any different. At least not right yet.
“Can’t you sleep?” comes her hoarse question. I love her voice when she’s been asleep for a while. It’s deep and scratchy and makes me want to do vile things to her. And, while she definitely made some progress tonight, I doubt she’s up for anything and everything.
“No. Go back to sleep,” I whisper, making my way to the door.
I ease out of the bedroom and close the door quietly behind me. I wish I’d taken Samantha back to my place, rather than opting for close proximity. But I wasn’t nearly finished after that first episode. I wanted to get her back and see just how…compliant she was willing to be.
And now here I am, stuck in her house, unable to sleep. I need the comfortable, the familiar. I need to relax my mind. But that will be next to impossible here.
I make myself a drink and recline on the sofa. I lean my head back against the full cushion and take a deep breath, hoping to clear my head. When I hear the soft shuffle of bare feet on hardwood, I crack my lids. Samantha is walking slowly toward me, wrapped only in one of the sheets we mangled and tore off the bed.