Over time, he and Cam had completed the training and become masters of the art. Alex learned that he wasn’t into the lifestyle aspects of D/s—his preference was for sexual Domination when it came to his personal life, although he had also found a great deal of satisfaction in training subs who were looking to lead a submissive lifestyle 24/7.
Alex loved women, the way they smelled, the way they tasted, the way they felt—all the glorious textures of the human female body—and he could say with confidence that every woman with whom he’d enjoyed any kind of D/s relationship, be it a scene at the club or a training contract, he’d left happy and fulfilled…except one, and she had been his ex-wife.
By the time she’d got around to yelling at him about his filthy perversion, the love had long gone and her words hadn’t been able to wound the way she’d intended. He blamed himself; he should have told her about his preferences when it looked like their relationship was getting serious, long before marriage was on the radar. He’d thought that somehow he could navigate a safe passage through those choppy waters, but it wasn’t to be.
With such a disparity between their sexual needs, the only thing Alex could do was let her go. It hadn’t stopped her taking everything she could get her claws on, but the divorce, once declared absolute, was just that—absolute. He had no idea where she’d gone, or with whom, and by then he hadn’t cared about either.
Alex dropped onto the massive bed. Beth. His. Something primitive stirred inside him. He pictured her lying face down on this bed, pillows under her belly and hips so that she was in the perfect position for him to take her. She was restrained, of course, and begging her Dom to fuck her.
Christ, Cam was right—she was perfect sub material. His perfect sub.
And if she did see herself as the green-eyed female protagonist she’d written about—if she had a secret desire to submit to a Dom—would she really want to make that fantasy a reality? Fantasising about D/s relationships was one thing, but the reality of them was a whole different prospect. Hell, even he was still learning—not just about Domination and submission, but also about himself.
Alex rolled over onto his stomach, trapping his erection between his belly and the bed. He grimaced at the discomfort, but Christ, it felt good, reminded him that he was still alive and still capable. His muscular buttocks clenched, fighting the urge to move as if she were under him.
How could he get her to the apartment? Wine her and dine her, bring her back here, and—“Oh, by the way, Beth, I’m a Dom and I want to own you, body and soul.”
Yeah, that’d work. The thought dripped sarcasm. Even if she really had submissive tendencies, an approach like that would probably still scare her half to death. With his thoughts going in unproductive circles that left him mentally exhausted, Alex eventually fell asleep.
It was a pity it wouldn’t last.
2
On Monday morning, after a weekend that felt much shorter than usual, Beth arrived in the office to find a message from her employer, informing her that he was going to be in Antwerp for a few days and would be back in the office on Thursday. Part of her was relieved, but it was really just delaying the inevitable—she’d still have to face him on his return.
The next part of the message caused her eyebrows to rise in disbelief. She was to close the office for three days, give everyone paid time off, and hand the office keys to Cam Fraser so that he could perform a thorough security check.
By ten o’clock the offices were deserted, save for Beth. She was just waiting for Cam and his crew to arrive, so that she could hand over the keys as instructed, and then she too could go and make the most of the unexpected break.
“Good morning, Beth!” Cam breezed into the office. His usual tsunami-like charm offensive would have swept all before him, had there been an all to sweep. “Good weekend?”
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Fraser. I certainly wasn’t expecting Mr. Lombard’s message when I arrived this morning.”
Cam perched a hip on the corner of her desk, looking very masculine and, it had to be said, extremely attractive in his formal business suit. Clearly tailored to a very high standard, it fitted him to perfection. He gave a sarcastic snort. “You know what the old man’s like. Once he gets an idea in his head, he has to do something about it and we all have to jump.”
She had to agree—her employer did like getting his own way. That was one of the traits that made him an ideal model for her fantasy Dom.
For her own peace of mind, Beth made one more sweep of the office to make sure there were no stragglers, and then returned to Reception where Cam was waiting for her.
“Do we have the all-clear, angel?”
“I believe so, Mr. Fraser,” Beth replied, almost on a sigh. She held up her hand. In her palm rested the keys to the offices, the safes and the climate-controlled strongroom—the vault that held the most environmentally sensitive of the treasures sourced for their clients. All of a sudden her expression became very serious. “I’ve been responsible for these keys for three years. It’s not a responsibility I give up lightly.”
“Worry not, light of my life,” Cam assured her with an insouciance she found vaguely disturbing. He plucked the bunch of keys from her hand. “You can leave everything in my hands. Go and treat yourself to some retail therapy,” he suggested with a playful wink.
Beth shot him a look, one eyebrow raised. Men! They never did grow up. Even Alex had been known to throw his toys out of the pram occasionally, in the adult male version of a tantrum that would have done a four-year-old proud.
“Thank you, Mr. Fraser.” She fixed her gaze on the face that was far too handsome for any woman’s good, trying to make that gaze as steely as possible. “Just you make sure you look after this place, or I’ll –”
“You’ll what, dear Beth?” he prompted, not bothering to hide his amusement at the prospect of a threat from a woman around three inches shorter than him—and that was with the monstrous heels she habitually wore—and conservatively, a hundred pounds lighter.
“I’m not sure, but I’ll do my best to make it dire!” she promised. “Good day, Mr. Fraser.”
Cam watched her leave, admiring the feminine grace she displayed so naturally. She was a prize, all right, and just what Alex needed, even if he was having difficulty recognising the fact.
With a thoughtful look on his face, Cam checked the time. His crew would be arriving in a few minutes, but there was time for a quick phone call, to a man who wasn’t in Antwerp as everyone believed—he was at home in Hampshire.
“Alex? Beth’s just gone. You know, she really is too lovely to take her responsibilities so seriously all the time—you need to do something about it. What? You are? About fucking time! I’d ask you if you were planning to share her, but I’m kind of attached to my family jewels.”
Cam ended the call with his friend’s expletives still ringing in his ears, and pocketed his phone. He grinned, thinking about what else Alex had told him. A long time ago they’d set up the playroom together at Alex’s country pile in Hampshire—if only Beth knew what was awaiting her.
More than that, though, Alex was finally getting his shit together again. And while that was good, Cam knew the man and the baggage he still carried well enough to be aware that the road ahead was unlikely to be without its problems. Still, with Cam and soon Beth in his corner, Alex wouldn’t face that journey alone.
His expression one of deep thought, the man in question took a few minutes to digest what his closest friend had told him.
Having made his decision, he’d spent the weekend concentrating on Beth and how best to take their relationship from a purely business footing to a more personal one. By midnight on Sunday, he had come to the conclusion that he needed a few days’ distance from his assistant to ensure that he came to a sensible and workable decision. The fictitious trip to Antwerp presented the ideal camouflage.
As he’d told Cam, he also needed to make sure that the playroom was
ready for her. When he’d put the playroom together years ago, he’d wanted something modern and clean, where the dark intimacy was created not by the theme but by the lighting, the drapes and the equipment. With Cam’s input, he’d achieved that.
The playroom was conveniently situated right next to his bedroom, and while a very small number of specially selected subs had been honoured with sessions in there, none had ever found their way to the sacrosanct domain of his bedroom. His ex had been the last woman in there, and she’d left enough bad memories to last a lifetime.
Then maybe it’s time you made new memories.
The voice was soft and gentle; the voice was Beth’s.
It took very little effort on Alex’s part to picture her on the well-padded spanking bench, her hair streaming towards the floor while he got intimately acquainted with her luscious behind.
Alex had to laugh at himself then. Talk about zero to sixty in three point four seconds. He’d had years of avoiding anything remotely meaningful with a sub, and now here he was, readying the playroom at his home for Beth, of all people, a woman who was a complete novice…if his assumptions about her were correct, of course.
The picture in his mind changed, became a slideshow of different images. Beth, on her knees in front of him, her body gracefully posed in the first position, with her long hair draped over the swell of her breasts; Beth, bound to the bed in the playroom, while he taught her body a lesson in sensual pleasure; Beth, nurtured by the aftercare that had aided her return from subspace; Beth, curled up beside him while she slept, exhausted from wave after wave of orgasms that would be his gift to her.
And there was no denying it; he opened the bedroom door and stared at the huge bed—Beth was the only woman he’d wanted in it for a long, long time.
The weekend had been something of an epiphany. Alex now knew why he had become so dissatisfied with his life of late—why he’d developed a new habit of going into the office early even when there was no purpose, and why he stayed late unless he had a compelling reason to be elsewhere. The emptiness of his apartment reflected the emptiness of his life.
And at least the office had Beth.
This weekend could signal a major change in his life, but Alex was uncomfortably aware that he was dealing with the symptoms, not the disease. The events in his past were still the real demons that plagued him, and he’d let them have the upper hand for too long. The doctors had advised professional assistance to help him overcome what they’d chosen to label PTSD, but for Alex that would be an admission of weakness, an acknowledgement that the darkest period of his life had got the better of him. As such, that was simply not acceptable. He could handle the disease alone.
Needing to steer his thoughts in a happier direction, Alex let his imagination run away with him: Beth as his sub, in his life 24/7, both at home and in the office. Not only would he have her there beside him at work, she’d also be coming home with him. A leisurely dinner together, some time to relax, and then he would lead her to the bedroom and take ownership of her—everything she was, everything she thought, everything she felt. But only when it came to sex.
The best thing he could do now was get down to some work. He closed the bedroom door and went downstairs, heading for his well-equipped office.
~~*~~
In Beth’s opinion, Thursday morning came around far too quickly. Cam Fraser had agreed to meet her at the office at a ridiculously early hour so that she could take back possession of her keys. He’d given nothing away regarding the exercise, and it was impossible to read anything into his usual breezy attitude. They’d chatted briefly and then he’d taken his leave of her, one hand in his trouser pocket, a tuneless whistle accompanying his leisurely departure. Sometimes the man was so laid back, he was almost horizontal.
Beth really needed to focus on something work-related. Writing rather than retail therapy had been her indulgence of choice, so now she was hoping that she could face her employer without blushing, given his role as the blueprint for her Dom—the Dom in my book, she corrected herself sternly.
“Beth, what the hell are you doing here so early?”
Caught off guard, she floundered for a moment but then grabbed the lifeline of her sense of composure—it had always served her well during the time she’d worked for Alex. She looked up at his handsome, if somewhat annoyed face.
“Good morning, Mr. Lombard,” she greeted him in her usual open, friendly manner. “Thank you for the last few days—it was most…unexpected.”
He made a dismissive gesture. “You didn’t answer my question. It’s six-thirty in the bloody morning.”
Her hand indicated the stack of mail she’d picked up on the way in. “The office has been closed for three days. Emails and phone messages have piled up, too. I wanted to make an early start on the backlog.”
His steely gaze moved from the pile of envelopes back to Beth. “That isn’t your job. I pay clerical staff to look after that crap, so you can take it all back to their office. Now.”
Beth’s breath caught in her throat. She’d never heard that tone in his voice before. It was a tone that was intended to intimidate, and it sent a delicious ripple up and down her spine.
“I said now, Beth.” His commanding voice drew her mind sharply back into focus. “And when you’re done, you can come into my office.”
With that, he strode off into said office without a backward glance, leaving Beth to deal with an instinctive compulsion to obey. Almost as if she had no control over her own legs, she stood and headed for the office shared by the three secretaries.
On her return, she went straight in to see Alex. His jacket and tie had been dumped in a heap on the sofa and the man himself was seated at his desk, his forehead resting in his hand while he studied a document. Without thinking, she rolled up his tie and placed it on the coffee table, and took his jacket to hang it in the small closet.
She had no idea that Alex was watching her keenly from under his hand—and even if she had been aware, there was no way she would have guessed that her graceful movements were sending all sorts of decadent, lustful thoughts through his mind. He wondered how she’d react to the impact those thoughts had on his body.
Today she was wearing a smartly tailored black skirt, teamed with a silk blouse in dove grey, the ever-present black, sheer, fully fashioned hosiery with a Cuban heel—and today’s fuck-me shoes were in iridescent peacock blue, with a narrow ankle strap that was attached to the shoe at the back of her heel. Four-inch heels on the shoes, of course. When she reached to hang his jacket in the closet, her almost-balletic grace threatened to give him a hard-on that would last the rest of the week.
“You wanted to see me, Mr. Lombard?”
She had taken up a position on the other side of the desk, directly opposite him. Her hands were clasped together in front of her—no fidgeting, he was pleased to see. He came out from under the screen of his hand and looked up at her.
“Sit down, Beth. This won’t take long.” He paused while she obeyed, crossing those incredible legs at the ankles and tucking them under the chair. Always the lady. Her hands remained clasped on her lap. For a brief moment, he thought about her training. The training itself wouldn’t be the problem—no, the problem would be getting her to accept what she was…
The sub who belonged in his bed, and the woman who belonged in his life. He wasn’t sure he’d succeed, but he sure as hell was going to try.
“Do you have a valid passport?”
Beth raised her eyebrows. He got the distinct feeling that she wasn’t expecting that question. “Yes, sir—it’s good for the next four years.”
“Excellent. Clear your calendar and mine for next week. Can you book us on the first flight to Antwerp next Monday? We’ll be returning on Thursday, so can you also book us a suite each at…damn it.” He extracted a business card from his wallet, glanced at it briefly, and then passed it to Beth. “Here.”
She scanned the card. “Is this wh
ere you stayed this week?”
“No, I thought we’d give this one a try. If you have any trouble booking the suites, ask to speak to the manager—his name’s on the back of the card—and mention my name. Everything okay, Beth?”
“Sir, I’m a little confused about why you need me to go with you?”
“Career development,” he replied, his tone somewhat curt due to the spontaneous nature of his improvised response. “Unless there’s some reason –”
“Oh, no, not at all—I’m looking forward to it.”
~~*~~
Beth normally relished the thought of the bus ride home on a Friday, but this time all she could think about was that it was another day nearer to Antwerp—and spending time alone with Alex without the distractions of the office.
And that was why her mind wasn’t on her surroundings, when she left the building and became another crime statistic for the Metropolitan Police. The mugger came from nowhere, sent her flying into an awkward heap, and made off with her bag before she knew what happened.
Stunned and in shock, she looked around, her mind in total denial of what had just happened. The dirty, grazed palms and knees belonged to someone else, as did the ankle that hurt like hell when she stood up. Instinct more than anything drove her to limp barefoot back to the office, shoes dangling from one hand, knowing that there was at least one person still there.
The door to Alex’s office was closed when she finally made it to her own desk. The sliver of light spilling from under that door was the only indication that its occupant was still in residence. Now that she was here, Beth realised that the last thing she wanted was for her employer to see her in this state. Blinking back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her at any moment, she picked up the phone and dialled the non-emergency number for the police. Maybe she could get this done and disappear before he even realised she was there.
The Velvet Ribbon Page 3