The Velvet Ribbon

by Christie Adams

  “So, where are you taking me?” Beth asked, trying not to stare too much—not an easy thing to do when her eyes just wanted to devour him from head to foot and then start all over again.

  “A little place I know.”

  She shook her head. “Alex, you might as well tell me, I’ve booked tables for you at all your favourite restaurants for the last three years.”

  “Not this one, you haven’t.” She could hear the superior smile in his voice, as well as see it on his face. “Turn around.”

  “Why?”

  One stern look was all it took to make her obey him. She’d have asked herself why, but she had a feeling that it would take all night to find an adequate answer to that question.

  “I have something for you.”

  It was metal and it was cold—and it had the close fit of a choker rather than the easy drape of a necklace. “What is it?”

  His hands were warm on her shoulders. “Not what you’re thinking, sweetheart. We’re a long way from that. And when it happens, if it happens, you’ll know exactly what I’m doing to you.” She felt his lips brush her temple. “Now, let me look at you.”

  Beth performed a slow pivot in front of him, coming to a stop when she faced him. Close up, he was even more beautiful and overwhelmingly masculine. She leaned towards him and inhaled deeply, letting the clean, intoxicating scent of him soak into every cell of her body. God, she was burning for the touch of those lips on hers! “Well? Will I do?”

  He looked at her in silence, and with each passing moment Beth felt her level of anxiety rise. It went off the scale when he spoke, his tone affecting her every bit as much as his words.

  “Raise your skirt and stand with your legs apart.”

  With nervous hands, she lifted the hem of her dress to mid-thigh, her stance as wide as she dared. Her heart was racing as she met his gaze and she thought it might stop altogether when she saw the dark disapproval there.

  “All the way, Beth,” he said gravely. “I want to see that you’ve obeyed me. And keep your eyes open.”

  Her face flamed even more as she exposed herself to him; her breath hitched when he swiped a determined finger through her moist folds, raised it to his mouth, and very deliberately tasted it. Tasted her.

  “Aroused already, Beth?” His smile was that of a hunter whose prey was firmly in his sights. A slow burn started in his dark eyes. “You probably want to know the reason for this. It’s quite simple really—I decided that tonight, while we’re out, I want to know that you’re available for sex. Don’t look so scandalised, sweetheart—knowing isn’t doing. I also want you to be aware with every movement that you belong to me and you’ve given me your obedience. And,” he added in a somewhat lighter tone, “you’ll do very nicely. You can cover yourself up now. How are the shoes? Can you walk all right, or shall I carry you down to the car?”

  The sudden return to relative normality threw her for a second, but as she smoothed the dress down over her thighs, Beth regained her composure enough to react as if what had happened was nothing out of the ordinary. She should want to slap that attitude out of him—she would with any other man—but with Alex it turned her on. God, was she in trouble.

  “In that suit?” It had to be Savile Row’s finest. “Thank you, but I can manage to walk in these silly little heels.”

  He looked pointedly at her feet. “You call those silly little heels? No wonder you damn near broke your ankle.”

  “They are little, compared to what I usually wear. What I usually have to wear to have any chance of not having a permanent crick in my neck when I’m in the office. Although I would need stilts to avoid the risk completely,” she added with a hint of mischief in her eyes. From being scared and nervous mere seconds ago, she’d somehow found her sense of humour again. She might be a sub in his eyes, but that didn’t mean she was a doormat. Beth took a step closer, and, in a clearly exaggerated manner, lifted her chin to look him in the face. To issue a challenge.

  With his finger and thumb he took hold of her chin. The flame glinting in his eyes matched the fire that suddenly burst to life in her heart. One side of his mouth lifted slowly. “If we didn’t have a reservation waiting for us, you can rest assured that we would be discussing this further.”

  His fingers extended, the tips stroked her cheek, and then with the middle finger alone, he tilted her chin up and branded her lips with his mouth. “Let’s get your coat.”

  Beth expected them to go down to the basement car park, but instead they exited the lift in the lobby. It was all glass and marble and chrome, and like Alex’s apartment, it screamed wealth. Not to mention security—CCTV cameras occupied strategic positions to cover the entire area and the main doors, and then there was the concierge, who looked more ex-Army than a concierge probably should.

  “Alex? I thought we were going in your car?”

  “We were,” he agreed amiably, “but then I decided I wasn’t going to let you have all the fun tonight. Your carriage awaits, milady.”

  He opened the door for her. Right in front of her, looking sleek and hideously expensive, was a gleaming Rolls Royce, complete with an immaculately turned-out chauffeur who was coming around the car to open the rear passenger door for them.

  “Alex, you’re insane!” she whispered hoarsely, trying to climb as elegantly as she could into the back of the Rolls, while holding on to her companion’s hand.

  “Only occasionally, Beth, only occasionally!”

  And always around you.

  The back of the Rolls Royce, though spacious, was warm and intimate. And dressed in the clothes he’d bought for her, wearing the diamond collar he’d had made almost three years ago, Beth took his breath away. She made his heart race as if he were a teenager on his first date.

  He’d lied when he’d implied that it wasn’t a collar—in an uncharacteristic moment of weakness, he’d removed it from the safe but had deliberately not let her look in a mirror. She might catch a glimpse of it in a reflection here or there, but he was determined that she would only see how beautiful she looked in it once she fully accepted her place as his sub.

  A vivid image came to mind: Beth, in his bed, wearing nothing but the diamond collar, waiting for him—for her Master—to accept the gift of control over her body and her pleasure. He was almost getting a hard-on just thinking about it. Probably best not to think of it too much, then—it would ruin the line of his trousers.

  Their destination was his favourite restaurant, his bolthole of serenity when he needed time away from day-to-day life. Wanting to keep it for that special someone, to date he’d only ever gone there alone. He hadn’t wanted to sully it with memories of time spent there with other women who had passed through his life. The fact that he was taking Beth there now, and that it felt so right to do so, just confirmed her place in his life.

  Though in the heart of Mayfair, the restaurant itself was well off the beaten track—the mews location ensured that only those in the know would be aware of its existence. Alex had been a regular customer for more than five years now, and was greeted warmly by a member of the front-of-house team.

  “Mr. Lombard, it’s a pleasure to see you, as always. Would you and your guest like to follow me, please? Your usual table is ready.”

  With her coat safely hanging in the cloakroom, Beth was extremely conscious of the heat of Alex’s hand on her back as they followed the host through the restaurant. Once again she was thrown off balance by the fact that not only was there a whole side to Alex’s life of which she was completely unaware, he had now chosen to share it with her.

  So this was his favourite place to dine in style. She already knew Alex had taste, but this place was in a different league—and it suited him perfectly. He looked completely at home in this cocoon of refinement and elegance. The décor was an impressive blend of natural tones and shades, modern but timeless, and it offered a distinctive sense of tranquillity.

  Once seated at the table, locat
ed in a secluded part of the restaurant, Beth covertly studied her companion while she was perusing the menu. Alex was sipping a Scotch on the rocks, and although the menu was open in front of him, she had a feeling his mind was elsewhere. Whatever she’d thought she’d known about him, something was telling her that the way she viewed him was about to change beyond all recognition.

  And how well did she know herself? Here she was, in a public place, dressed up to the nines and without a shred of underwear, so maybe not as well as she might have thought. Forty-eight hours earlier, she would never have imagined herself capable of doing something so risky. Yet, with Alex seated opposite her, that risk faded into insignificance.

  Lost in thought, Beth didn’t even realise that the waiter had arrived to take their order, and she couldn’t believe it when Alex ordered for her.

  “And please let Mark know that we’ll have a bottle of whatever he recommends to complement the food.”

  Beth waited until the waiter left before turning her attention to the man opposite her.

  “Tell me you would have chosen anything different, Beth,” he challenged her before she could say a word. His expression was intense, daring her to argue. “I know your choices from the last three office Christmas parties, and you are nothing if not a woman of habit. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you to be more adventurous outside the bedroom, as well as inside it.”

  She deliberately ignored the provocative comment. “Who’s Mark?”

  “The sommelier. What he doesn’t know about wine isn’t worth knowing. Nothing else to say, love?”

  She took a slow, deep breath. “I suppose you do know that these days, women are perfectly capable of making their own choices when it comes to eating out? Lots of other things too.”

  He raised his eyebrows, his expression one of consideration of her statement. “It doesn’t alter the fact that you’re here, in the outfit I chose for you, and while you are making the politically correct point every woman should, you haven’t exactly screamed blue murder about it.”

  She couldn’t argue with that, but that didn’t mean she was letting him get away with it. “There’s time yet. What I will say is that you’ve given me a lot to think about today, including why you brought me here,” she gestured towards their surroundings. “It’s not every day your boss tells you he’s a Dom and he thinks you’d make a good sub.”

  Smiling, he shook his head. “You need to stop thinking of me just as your boss, Beth. In fact, that role doesn’t even matter anymore. And no, not that you would make a good sub—you are a sub. Need I remind you that you’re not wearing any underwear? That you’ve already given me your obedience and made yourself sexually available for me in public?”

  Thank God there was no one else near enough to hear that statement. Then Beth remembered similar scenes from books she’d read, where Doms made apparently outrageous demands, but actually did nothing that would jeopardise their subs’ safety or reputation. As she processed the thought, she realised that Alex would do nothing to cause her shame or embarrassment in public.

  Completely unabashed, Alex continued. “Shall I tell you what I see in you? A warm, witty, intelligent, caring woman who is almost in denial of the submissive side to her nature—she knows it exists, but lacks the courage to take that step. If you acknowledge your inner submissive and let her into your life, I can teach you all that’s great about what she is.

  “She’s an essential part of you, Beth. You’ll be no less of a woman if you never let her in, but you’ll always wonder how good it might have been.”

  She was already wondering—had been for a long time. She’d devoured books on the subject of Domination and submission and trying to deal with her secret desires was part of her motivation for writing about them in a fictional context. Writing was safe; her heroine’s Dom was Beth’s fantasy man, and while he only existed on her computer screen, he could do nothing to hurt her.

  But the man seated opposite her was real. He was her fantasy come to life, he desired her, and he wanted to be her guide on the road to submission. He was the model for the man of her dreams, and she’d quietly lusted after him for years.

  She was doomed.

  “Beth, I brought you here to spend a pleasant evening with you. Whatever’s going through your mind, put it to one side—leave it for tomorrow. Tonight, we are going to have a delicious meal and get to know one other a little better.”

  ~~*~~

  He was right; the food was delicious, and so was the wine chosen by the sommelier—it complemented the meal perfectly, and when the time came to return to Alex’s apartment, Beth was distinctly light-headed. Seated in the back of the Rolls again, she fired a somewhat exaggerated, narrow-eyed, Medusa-like glare at Alex, who gave every annoying sign of being stone-cold sober.

  “So,” he said, thoroughly at ease, “what do you think of the restaurant?”

  “I can understand why it’s your favourite, Alex. I’ve never been anywhere like that before.”

  “But you enjoyed the food?”

  She chuckled softly. “How could I not? I’ve never tasted anything like it—sheer heaven.”

  “And the wine?”

  At that question, she looked a little sheepish. “I know absolutely nothing about wine, but what we had really suited the food.”

  “Mark knows his subject inside out,” Alex agreed. “I know what I like, but it doesn’t always go with what I’m eating. That’s why he’s the sommelier and I’m not. And now for the killer question—what about the company?”

  The company of the Dom with whom she was now having a relationship. The evening might have got off to a slightly prickly start, but thinking about it, Beth realised that she’d just had a wonderful time with a devastatingly attractive man, and right now, she felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

  Earlier, she’d wondered how long it would take her to get used to the idea of being Alex’s…Alex’s what? Or just…Alex’s? The answer was next to no time at all.

  “Alex,” she said, linking her arm through his, “I have had a wonderful evening, and I have enjoyed your company, very, very much.”

  “Then you’ll have no objection to repeating the experience. And next time I’m taking you dancing.”

  It was a statement, not a question. She was mentally alert enough to work that one out, so she didn’t reply. Instead, she leaned her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, imagining what it would be like to be held in his arms as they swayed to a slow, romantic ballad. He’d hold her close…her head would rest close to his. If she had that, she would need nothing more in life.

  Her sigh was one of pure contentment.

  Alex glanced at the woman nestled against him and felt a tightening of his body that had been absent for six long months. What the hell was it about her that had turned him into the arrogant boor who told her what she was wearing and what she was going to have for dinner?

  He was a sexual Dominant, not a lifestyle Dom—he took control when it came to sex and physical intimacy, and that was it. Except that Beth unwittingly made his common sense fly out of the window and magnified his usual feelings towards a sub beyond all reason. He didn’t just want to protect her—his feelings were borderline possessive.

  Putting that thought to one side—in the knowledge that once Beth sobered up, he’d likely have some fences to mend—he smiled to himself. All things considered, it had been a good evening, one he’d truly enjoyed, and his decision to share his favourite restaurant with this woman had been totally justified. The perfect end to the evening would have been knowing that he was taking Beth back home to make love to her, but as much as he wanted her, he knew that it would have to wait. Anticipation would make it all the sweeter when the time came.

  It was important, he realised, that he find out the true extent of her interest in Domination and submission. He’d pushed her far enough to begin with, by instructing her to go without underwear for their visit to the restaurant. Had
she shown any real sign of aversion to the idea, he would have produced the bag of silky lingerie he’d also purchased at the boutique and added “wearing underwear” to her list of hard limits.

  In spite of his instruction on that matter, Alex wasn’t comfortable with the thought of being a lifestyle Dom. Outside the bedroom, he wanted a woman who could think for herself, a woman who would stimulate him mentally—not a slave who looked to him for direction in every aspect of her life. He’d met enough subs like that to know that it wasn’t for him. He enjoyed the contrast of having a confident, independent woman on his arm outside the bedroom, and having that same woman kneel before him inside the bedroom and lose all control in his arms.

  As Alex slid a careful arm around Beth’s shoulders, he knew to the very depths of his soul and beyond that not only was Beth that woman, she would be until the day he died.

  6

  When they arrived back at the apartment, Beth let Alex take her coat. The light-headed feeling had now given way to a desire for sleep—it was what usually happened on those rare occasions when she consumed a little too much alcohol. Part of her wanted to head straight for bed, but good manners dictated otherwise.

  Not only that—she wanted to see what happened next. She slipped off her shoes and limped towards one of the large, comfortable sofas, wondering if Alex would join her. No, not if—when. She sat down with her good leg curled under her. Within moments, in spite of her best intentions, her eyelids seemed to acquire lead weights.

  “Hey, sleepyhead, time for a nightcap. How’s your ankle?”