"Yes. The Four Seasons. Make an appointment? Really?"
"Leave me your number, then have the driver take you home and send him back to the hotel. If you don't do exactly what I just said I will never, ever spank you."
"Ooh, you're amazing."
"And you're about to be crossed off my list of women I might consider putting over my knee," he scolded, staring down at her with a profound scowl. "I take it you and Amelia went back to her suite after you left the restaurant," he added, watching her hastily rifle through her bag for a pen and paper.
"Uh-huh," she nodded, scribbling furiously on the back of a business card she apparently no longer needed.
"Then what happened?"
"We drank some more wine, talked about men, and passed out."
"And she woke you up?"
"Yeah. Here's my card. Please, will you call me? Please?"
"If you're out of here by the time I count to three, I'll think about it. One-two-"
Grabbing her bag she bolted through the door, and quickly closing and locking it behind her, he let out a relieved breath, then walked into the living room. Amelia stared up at him, her eyes wide, clearly waiting for instructions.
"Amelia, come here."
She rose to her feet, then moved slowly across the room and stopped in front of him.
"Yes, Sir?"
"We're going into the bedroom."
"Yes, Sir."
As he started down the hallway she dutifully followed, and entering the bedroom, he turned to face her.
"Get undressed, climb into bed, and lay down."
"Are you going to spank me and ravage me, Sir?"
"Not tonight. You've been a naughty girl."
"I have? What did I do, Sir?"
"You brought a stranger here, and you told her about me. My private life is private. You must be punished. Now do as you're told. Crawl into bed and go straight to sleep."
"But, Sir," she pouted, her face crinkling, "I don't want to go to sleep, and if I must be punished, why won't you spank me?"
"You are being punished. I'm putting you to bed and denying you. Amelia, if you don't do as I say immediately, you'll sleep on the floor."
"On the floor?" she repeated, staring at him in disbelief.
"I'll count to three, and—"
"I'm getting in, I'm getting in," she declared, hurriedly pulling off her clothes.
"I'll cuddle you, but you will go straight to sleep. Understand?"
"Yes, Sir," she replied, quickly climbing between the sheets.
Settling in next to her and turning out the light, he recalled something he'd read. Sleepwalkers are often in a highly suggestive state, much like a subject in hypnosis.
"Amelia," he said, speaking softly, his lips at her ear, "when you wake up, you will remember the events of this evening. As I explain things to you over breakfast, you'll be calm, you'll feel safe, and you'll be comfortable about seeking help with your sleep disorder."
Hoping he'd done the right thing, and wishing he'd called Jeremy to discuss it before acting, he silently repeated what he'd said.
When you wake up you will remember the events of this evening. As I explain things to you over breakfast you will be calm, you will feel safe, and you'll be comfortable about seeking help with your sleep disorder.
It seemed right, Letting out a grateful sigh, he closed his eyes and sank into the mattress.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The following morning, still half-asleep, James rolled over to enjoy some warm sleepy sex, only to find Amelia gone. Sitting up, he strained to listen for any sound of her presence. The apartment was quiet. Fervently praying she hadn't wandered off, he called her name as he climbed out of bed and hastily pulled on his robe. Hurrying down the hall to the living room, he discovered her bag and coat were gone, and a moment later he realized it was pouring outside. A worried frown crossed his brow. He was about to run back to his bedroom to grab his phone when the door buzzer made him jump.
"Hello?"
"Hi, James, it's me."
"Thank God. Come on up."
Waiting anxiously, shocked at how panicky he felt, he opened the door and found her smiling happily, holding a plastic bag in each hand.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, lifting them in the air and bustling past him to place them on the counter. "You said something about chatting over breakfast, so I went to that English place and got us two fry-ups. Did you make the tea yet? I put the kettle on before I left. What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm just very happy to see you. I wasn't sure where you'd gone or if you'd be back."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."
"This is very sweet of you," he remarked, the delicious aroma teasing his nostrils, "but next time you take off like that, please leave me a note?"
"I'm sorry, you're right, I should have," she replied, then with a cheeky smile she added. "You can spank me for that oversight later."
"I just might."
"Why don't you take a shower while I get this organized?"
"Yes, I think I'll do that, but first…" he murmured, taking her into his arms. "I need to hug you. I'm so relieved you're all right."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"That's what we need to talk about over breakfast, your nocturnal wanderings."
"I do remember coming over here last night. It was weird."
She'd lowered her voice and rested her head against his chest. There was a vulnerability about her that truly touched him, and kissing her on the forehead, he headed off to the bathroom. Moments later, standing under the stream of hot water, he thought back to the instructions he'd whispered in her ear.
When we talk over breakfast.
Was that why she'd taken off? His whispered suggestion? His week had been so busy he'd done no shopping and his cupboards were bare. Stepping from the shower and toweling off, he quickly dressed, then heading back to the kitchen he found the delicious breakfast set out and waiting.
"This looks amazing," he remarked, realizing he was ravenous. "Thank you."
"I finally found the tea caddy," she declared, bringing his porcelain teapot to the table. "You're too English not to have loose leaf-tea around the place."
"True. I am a tea purist."
"Another thing we have in common," she said warmly, sitting opposite him. "I kept everything hot in the oven until I heard the shower turn off."
"Honestly, Amelia, this is fabulous, and on a rainy day like this, it's perfect."
"Like home," she said wistfully. "I miss the drizzly days."
"Me too, and I used to complain about them."
They began to eat, and he cautiously broached the subject of her unexpected arrival the night before. She was calm about it, so taking it a step further he told her about her first visit, the one she didn't remember. She took a swallow of her tea, and let out a heavy sigh.
"It's happened before, but I only know that because of the phone calls I received the day after. It's so embarrassing."
"Is it related to sex in general, or when there's a dominant involved?"
"I think it's that," she said softly. "When there's a chance for me to, uh, be submissive."
"Have you ever been with a dominant?"
"No, but I've always wanted to be."
"What about the other chaps you, uh, visited in your sleep?"
"As far as I know there have only been two, and I don't know how to answer that question. They sort of, disappeared."
He could understand it. He'd almost disappeared himself, even before her bizarre appearance. The Amelia sitting across from him bore no resemblance to the supercilious businesswoman, or the aloof dinner companion he'd been with at Daniel's.
"I have a very close friend in London," he began carefully. "He's a psychiatrist. and I told him about this interesting habit you have. I hope you don't mind. I thought he might be able to shed some light on what might be causing it."
"I wouldn't call it a habit! It's just something that happens o
ccasionally."
"Of course, sorry. I couldn't think of the right word."
"No, I'm sorry," she said hastily. "I was being defensive and you're trying to help me. What did he say?"
"It's a rare condition. It's called Sexsomnia."
"Sexsomnia? Seriously? I've never heard of it."
"I hadn't either. He strongly recommended you find a professional who specializes in sleep disorders."
"Like a psychiatrist professional?"
"That was his suggestion."
She sat quietly, digesting the information as she slowly finished her meal and drank her tea, then laying down her silverware, she fixed him with a steady gaze.
"Well," she began, "I'm sure your friend is right. The strange thing is I'm not feeling particularly freaked out. Considering what you just told me, I should be. I don't know why I'm so calm."
"That's good."
"Yes, I suppose it is. I'll call my GP tomorrow and insist on talking to her. You know how those offices are. They'll tell me I have to make an appointment, but for something like this an appointment is nothing but a waste of time and money and I won't do it."
There she was! The tough, take-charge businesswoman. Maybe it wasn't a facade after all. Maybe her two personalities lived happily side by side, but then it occurred to him most people had two sides. He had his tough, cool, professional demeanor as well.
"James," she murmured, her face softening as she rested her chin on her hand. "Can I ask you something?"
"I'll give you the same answer I always give you. You can ask me anything you want."
"Do you think, since today is such a stay-at-home kind of day, you might be able to, uh, introduce me to more of your wicked ways."
"My wicked ways," he chuckled. "Absolutely! I'll have a read of the newspaper, and we'll see what develops. Actually, an idea just did, develop I mean. Go into the bedroom, strip naked, and wait for me on the bed."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Knowing the wait would feed her anticipation, James took his time clearing up the breakfast dishes, then picking up his newspaper he ambled down the hall to his bedroom.
"What took you so long?" Amelia asked, the hint of an edge to her voice.
"Not a good way to start. Would you like to reconsider that greeting?"
"Sorry, Sir," she murmured sheepishly. "I'm really happy you're here."
"Hmmm, better, I suppose. Roll on to your stomach and face the foot of the bed."
A slight frown crossed her brow as she positioned herself, and as she looked at him over her shoulder, he could see the nervous expectancy dancing in her eyes. She was waiting for some hot smacks, but he knew precisely how the afternoon would pass. For the moment, her bottom would remain untouched. Moving into his closet he changed into a comfortable sweat suit and thick socks, then opened his bag of wicked tricks. After searching out a blindfold, he reached into a dark corner and picked up his dressage whip. Its thin feathered tip could tickle or sting like the dickens.
"No ropes or shackles just yet," he declared, approaching the bed, "but you will be wearing a blindfold."
"Okay."
"Excuse me?"
"Sorry. Yes, Sir."
"Make that mistake again and you'll learn just how unpleasant this can be," he said firmly, whistling the crop through the air.
"I'll remember, Sir."
Laying the crop on the bed, he placed the black foam blindfold across her eyes, and secured the Velcro in the back.
"Stay on your stomach and spread your legs. You can wriggle and whimper, but no talking. I'll be reading my paper and I don't like to be interrupted. Any questions?"
"Yes, Sir. Does that mean I'm going to lie here doing nothing?"
"That's correct. Any other questions?"
"Uh, no, Sir."
"Remember what I said, no talking unless it's to say your safe word."
Climbing on the bed, he leaned his back against the headboard and opened his paper. Though he often read articles online, he still enjoyed the rustling of the paper and the feel of it between his fingers. As he folded it in half, he glanced down at her naked body and smiled. It was a delightful sight, but she suddenly raised herself up on all fours and turned around to face him.
Having played out the scene in the past, he immediately knew the problem. She'd remembered something she'd forgotten to ask. Some women accepted their fate, and didn't pursue it, a few raised their hand like a child in a classroom, while others risked asking permission to speak, but Amelia being Amelia did none of the above. She began crawling up the bed.
He was enjoying her antics too much to ask what she was doing. The incredibly sexy woman was climbing around his bed blindfolded and naked, but when she stretched out her arm and flailed in the air, he realized she was searching for a pillow.
"Amelia, please stop," he said sharply, handing her a cushion. "What do you think you're doing? I told you to lay down and spread your legs, not clamber around pillow hunting. You could have fallen off the bed."
"Sorry, Sir."
"Turn around and get back to your position immediately. Remember, I have a very strict whip next to me. I strongly recommend you not push your luck. I'll ponder your punishment as I read. Once you're settled don't move again except for a wriggle or two, and no talking."
On all fours in front of him, she was a tempting sight, and as he watched her bite her lower lip, he was hard-pressed not to clutch her hair, fervently kiss her, then ravage her mercilessly. Resisting the temptation, he watched her find her way back to the foot of the bed and place the pillow under her head.
But she had stirred him.
Picking up the crop, he began tickling the thin tapered ends against her pussy. As she wriggled in response, then gasped and whimpered, he knew his paper would have to wait, at least for a little while.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
For thirty minutes, James continued his tantalizing torment, though his teasing hadn't been relentless. He'd taken short breaks to peruse his newspaper, but Amelia's pussy was glistening, her soft moans had become muffled cries of need, and her wriggling had transformed into urgent squirming.
"Don't go anywhere, my lovely," he said softly, leaning over her and kissing her neck. "I'll only be a moment."
As she whimpered in response, he slipped off the bed, and ambling down the hall into the kitchen, he set the kettle to boil. Knowing she'd be thirsty he retrieved a bottle of water from the refrigerator, but when he returned to the bedroom he was astonished to find her on all fours with her fingers between her legs. Still wearing her blindfold, she had no idea she'd been caught. His immediate reaction was to march forward and administer a vigorous spanking, but he paused. He'd applied the dressage whip only once, by request, but at that moment he considered shocking her out of her pleasure with a decent swish. Then it hit him. Either this was another test of his will, or she wanted to know what that whip felt like and was purposely provoking him.
But Amelia wasn't the only one who could be unpredictable.
Opening the bottle of ice water, wearing a devilish grin, he walked forward and poured it over her naked backside.
"Argh, what the fuck?"
"Bad girl. Stay there, and don't you dare take that blindfold off."
Striding into his closet, he retrieved his spreader bar and shackles, and when he returned to the bedroom, he found her on her stomach lying still and quiet.
"So, you've finally decided to behave! Just as well. Rest on your elbows and knees."
"Sir, I—"
"Apparently, I was wrong. Did I say you could speak?"
"No, Sir, sorry, Sir."
Deftly cuffing her ankles and spreading her legs apart, he secured the pole, then shackled her wrists at the small of her back. Her position was decidedly lewd, and while that may have accounted for her woeful sounds, he suspected they were from apprehension, not embarrassment.
"Tell me why I shouldn't stripe your bottom," he scolded, picking up the whip and sliding it across the center of her ba
ckside.
"I, uh, was just so needy."
"You can't possibly be suggesting that's an excuse for such blatant disobedience. You know better. Try again."
"I don't know what to say."
"I'll try a different question, and I want the absolute and complete truth. Why did you do something so flagrantly willful?"
"I wanted to, uh…" she began hesitantly, her voice barely a whisper, "get a response from you."
"Because?"
"I'm scared to tell you."
"Hmmm, well, let me put it to you like this. You can keep it to yourself, or you can taste my whip and I won't be merciful."
"I wanted to see what you would do," she said hastily. "I had this…this…"
"This what? You really are trying my patience."
"This weird thing…I, uh, wanted to, uh, know what that whip would feel like."
What that whip would feel like!
She had mumbled the words. Her fear and her need had been fighting, and her need had won.
"Now I have three reasons to punish you. Disobeying me, not answering my question the first time I asked, and the third, hmm, why don't you tell me the third, Amelia?"
"Um…"
"Three seconds. One—"
"Manipulating you, Sir."
"Correction, trying to manipulate me."
"Yes, Sir."
"I want you to think about something, but take your time. What do you believe would have happened if you'd simply said to me, Sir, I want to know what that whip feels like?"
"I, uh, don't know, Sir."
"Amelia! I just instructed you to take a minute and think before answering!"
She was being difficult, and he'd had enough. He raised his hand and began spanking her forcefully, landing the smacks across her bottom until her skin had turned bright pink.
"Have you given it proper thought?"
"Yes, Sir. You probably would have talked to me about it, then given me a stroke or two if I still wanted it."
"Correct. Why didn't you do that?"
"I, uh, I suppose I wanted to feel it as a punishment."
DESIRE UNLEASHED: Sexsomnia: A Psychological Romance Page 4