The Velvet Ribbon

by Christie Adams

  Alex gave a short bark of humourless laughter. “Cam’s idea—God knows why he thought I might need the damn thing, but it turns out he was right.”

  Well, it was an answer—of sorts. “Suppose something does happen—do I just call the police? Should I be calling anyone else?”

  “Good questions, Beth, and they deserve good answers. Until it’s confirmed, there’s still an outside chance that this could just be industrial espionage, in which case there’ll be no danger to us here, but if this does prove to be connected with my past and something does happen, call the police and then call Cam—he’ll know what to do.”

  “And when I’ve done that?”

  “Stay put—Cam will come for you.”

  Why Cam? Why not you?

  He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he held her close. “My love, we have to face facts—if something does happen, it’s entirely possible I may not be in a position to come for you. It’s always wise to have a backup plan.”

  Beth closed her eyes; something awful was rushing in her ears. No, that wasn’t going to happen, it was a nightmare that didn’t bear thinking about. She wasn’t going to lose him—not now, not ever.

  “And in order for that plan to work, I need to show you the secure room and give you a tour of the house, but I think that can all wait till tomorrow. What you need most right now is something to take your mind off that crap.”

  Alex pulled out his keys, including the one for the padlock on Beth’s day collar. “Turn around and lift your hair up for me.”

  That was her Dom speaking. With a small smile making a gentle curve of her mouth, she did as he asked. The chain dropped from around her neck; Beth missed its weight immediately. She watched Alex lay it carefully on the coffee table.

  “I left everything in the hall—go and get the collar and cuffs. They’re in the small grey box.”

  Alex watched his sub walk out of the room. He hadn’t intended to upset her, but she had to know what they were facing and what to do if the worst-case scenario happened. Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. It had served him well during his years of military service, and it would serve both of them just as well now.

  And if it did all turn out to be nothing more perilous than industrial espionage, then at least some good would have come of it—he would have Beth.

  Alex’s immediate plan was relatively simple: for the remainder of the day, he was going to concentrate on Beth and give her something other than their predicament to focus on—even though he knew damn straight she wouldn’t forget about it. Tomorrow he was going to start training in earnest, to get back to something approaching the level of fitness he had while in the Regiment—or at least try to. A daily stint in the gym and the odd run didn’t equate to the endless, punishing PT sessions they’d endured in all weathers in the old days.

  Some target practice wouldn’t go amiss either. One of the advantages of living in the middle of nowhere, with several acres of land at his disposal, was that he could set up a target range and use it, and no one would give a second thought to the sound of a shotgun.

  Before any of that, he had to give Beth the guided tour of the house. Her safety was paramount and might very well be dependent on her knowing the layout inside out. He didn’t want to dwell on what might happen to bring that situation about, but avoiding planning for the possibility wouldn’t prevent it from arising.

  Today, though, his priority was Beth, and giving her a distraction now would aid both of them. It would take her mind off what was going on, and help him to visualise a future beyond this unholy mess—a future he was going to spend with her.

  “Put the box down and take your clothes off—slowly.” He settled back on the sofa. “I want you to perform for me, Beth. Pretend you’re a stripper putting on a private show for a client, and at the end of it, instead of tipping you, you want me to fuck you. Show me how much.”

  He expected a fiery blush and some fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. What he got blew him away.

  Completely entranced, he watched as she began to sway in time to music only she could hear. Her hands stroked over her still fully clothed body, drawing his attention—as if that were necessary—to the curves of her breasts and hips. However, what attracted him far more was her expression…the soft, dreamlike expression of a woman who knew she was loved—completely, thoroughly and for all time.

  She shimmied elegantly out of her grey skirt, revealing legs clad in sheer, black, lace-topped nylons, and the smooth pussy he had taken great delight in shaving just a few hours ago. With arms raised as she seductively lifted her mane of hair, her shirt rode up, revealing voluptuous hips and the neat indentation of her navel. Blood surged south as he anticipated spreading those incredible thighs and sliding into her hot, welcoming body. Hell, he’d take her right now, up against the wall, one leg hooked around his hip to open her up for his cock.

  The gorgeous little tease then turned her back to him while she unfastened the shirt. With a coquettish peek over each shoulder, she slid the shirt from her body. When it dropped to the floor, she turned to face him again—hands clasped in front of her, gaze modestly lowered, an appealing contrast to the flirtatious looks she’d just sent his way. She clearly thought she’d obeyed his orders.

  However, since she looked so sexy in the nylons and heels and this was, after all, her second performance of the day, he was prepared to let it slide. Besides, it would give him the enormous pleasure of removing them himself when he fitted the cuffs to her ankles.

  “Very good, Beth,” he murmured appreciatively, loosening his tie and unfastening the top buttons of his shirt. “On the basis of that routine, I’d be more than happy to fuck you. Now, tell me how you felt while you were doing that. And tell me the truth.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment—another habit he needed to ensure that she broke—and then admitted that she’d felt really silly to begin with, but all of a sudden it was almost as if she’d slipped into that character and it became easier.

  “That’s better. Trust me, Beth, from where I’m sitting, there was nothing silly about what you just did. It was beautiful to watch, and it’ll come even more easily with practice, love. And I intend to give you a lot of practice.

  “Now, pass me the box, then sit down on at that end of the sofa, lean back and put your feet on my lap.”

  With very precise movements, she presented the box to him and then obeyed the rest of his instructions, giving him a wonderful view of her almost-totally-naked body. Maybe he would revise his rule about no knickers and make it no clothes after all.

  Her slim feet were on his lap, pressed together and perfectly still. With a touch that spoke of ownership, he ran his hand up her legs to her pubic mound. So smooth and silky to the back of his fingers. The effect on her was obvious, evident in the delicate quiver she gave as she closed her eyes.

  After removing the shoes, Alex took his time with the nylons, savouring each moment as he rolled first one, then the other, down her endless legs. Completely naked, she was a real, live wet dream. A picture popped into his mind—when Beth was confident enough in their relationship, he’d take her to a very special spa for some very special treatment.

  As well as being stunningly beautiful and an astute businesswoman, Alessandra was a Mistress—a Domme. One of her enterprises was a luxurious spa, where, for her friends in the community, she had set aside a secluded suite of treatment rooms.

  The two members of staff who worked exclusively in that suite were her subs, one male, one female. Both were trained in all the therapies available. Their services were reserved exclusively for members of the D/s community. A Dominant could take his or her sub there for a top-to-toe pampering session, and while it was taking place, he or she could watch, either in privacy from behind a two-way mirror or relaxing on a decadent chaise longue in the same room.

  The thought of Beth being the subject of such a session put a seriously hot image in his min
d, especially if the attending subs were to be given permission to touch her breasts and her pussy and he were to order her not to become aroused. Would her limits ever embrace a semi-public, semi-bi, fully ménage experience like that? At one time he’d have said no, but now he could only wonder.

  With the cuffs buckled around her ankles, Alex instructed her to assume her first position in front of him and offer her wrists to him for the other set of cuffs.

  Now for the collar. He took up a position behind his sub, held the leather strap to her throat, and when she’d gathered her hair together, he locked it in position with a small padlock.

  “Beth, you need to know that the necklace you wore for me on Saturday night really was a collar. I had it made just for you. I’ve been waiting almost three years to put it on you.”

  Sitting on the sofa again, Alex regarded her startled expression, watched the questions race across her face. He gave a slight nod, granting her permission to ask him those questions.

  “I don’t understand—three years?”

  He understood her confusion. His response to it was simple. “That’s how long I’ve wanted you and loved you, beautiful. You and I know it’s a collar, but it doesn’t mean I expect you to behave like a sub when you’re wearing it—its significance is a private thing, between us, and only someone else in the community might recognise it for what it is.”

  He’d loved her and wanted her almost from the time they first met. It hardly seemed possible, but Beth knew he was telling her the truth. He was a good man, an honourable man, and one she could trust without question.

  A tumult of emotions was doing crazy things to her insides: excitement, nerves, apprehension—even shyness, although that, she realised with a mental jolt, was rapidly dissipating. She really was getting used to being naked around Alex.

  In fact, now she thought about it, she loved being naked around Alex.

  A small smile teased the corners of her mouth. He loved her, he thought her beautiful—she knew she wasn’t, but around him, she could feel beautiful. And she was wanted—it would never cease to amaze her that a man such as Alex, who could have any woman who caught his eye, actually wanted her.

  And had felt that way for so long. But what about all those women he’d dated, the ones she’d ordered flowers for, and booked restaurants for…why had he been seeing them when he said he’d been in love with her?

  “What is it, Beth? What just happened?”

  He must have seen her expression change with the memories. She took a deep breath. Communication was supposed to be key in this kind of relationship, but how could she ask the question without sounding like a jealous harpy? She said the first thing that came into her head.

  “Nothing.”

  “Wrong answer, sweetheart. I’ve worked with you every day for three years,” he said softly. “I’ve seen your face run through the whole gamut of emotions and expressions—so I know that when you look like this,” he tapped her nose with his fingertip, “your quicksilver mind is bubbling with questions and concerns. Tell me.”

  Well, he wanted to know. Not her fault if he didn’t like the question. “If you felt like that about me, Alex, why did you date all those other women? Some of them…they sounded so young…”

  “Ah. Beth, they didn’t mean anything, not one of them. In your research, did you ever come across an arrangement called a training contract? The terminology might vary, but it does exactly what it says on the tin.”

  Yes, she had heard of such a thing, and the sources she’d found seemed to indicate that sexual intimacy was often off the menu. “No sex? You weren’t dating?”

  “That’s it exactly, sweetheart,” he confirmed. “Those women were mostly subs-in-training; they wanted to learn how to serve a Master—or in a couple of cases, a Mistress—but they had no Master or Mistress of their own. They undertook a training contract with me, but I never had sex with any of them.”

  “You said ‘mostly’.” Beth had latched onto that word immediately. “What about the others?”

  His smile was almost regretful. “I’m a man, not a monk, sweetheart. I couldn’t have you—I had to do something.”

  For a moment Beth wasn’t sure how to react to that confession. Then she realised that she had no right to react at all. It wasn’t as if they’d been in anything other than a working relationship at the time. “Why couldn’t you have me?”

  “Because I don’t date my employees and you weren’t a sub. That was enough to protect you from me.”

  “You thought I needed protecting from you? What changed? Not just the thing with my ankle.” Something else had to have happened for him to make his move.

  “Your ankle provided the opportunity. Something else was the catalyst.” He paused, as if weighing up his next words very carefully. “The other week, you left your notebook on your desk when you were out at lunch—I looked.”

  Oh, this was turning into one of those floor-open-up-and-swallow-me-now moments. Still, he’d read some of the other stuff she’d written, so no big deal, right?

  “And then I took a chance.”

  That figured. And with his past…? “Who dares wins?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up in that hitherto rare wry smile she’d always found so attractive. “You live by that motto for long enough, you don’t know any other way.”

  She could go ballistic, she supposed, but where would that get her? What would be the point? The situation was what it was. And it was a situation she rather liked anyway.

  “I guess…you won?” She gave a little shrug and what she hoped was an encouraging smile of agreement. “Sir?”

  “I guess I did.”

  And didn’t he look pleased with himself.

  “Stand up, put your shoes on and come with me.”

  He led her back into the hall and up the sweeping staircase, along the gallery to a locked door. She longed to look around and take in the details of Alex’s house, but her concentration was on following him. There was plenty of time for the guided tour later.

  She watched Alex unlock the door, and then followed him inside the room. With her eyes lowered, her range of vision was quite limited; the impression she had was of a light wood floor and a proliferation of beautifully crafted bondage equipment in more light wood and leather…and a magnificent four-poster bed that couldn’t possibly be as innocuous as it appeared. This was Alex’s playroom? Somehow she’d expected something a little darker and more Gothic, and while this was dark in places, it was light too. It was a room of many facets, just like its owner.

  “Second position, Beth—wait there, I’ll be back in a moment.”

  She sensed more than saw him disappear through another door at the other end of the room; it would be very easy to cheat and look around, even take her hands down, but that just seemed so wrong. Her Dom had commanded her to stand like this, so stand like this she would.

  “Well done, Beth. You can put your arms at your sides now—and look up.”

  He was gorgeous. Movie-star-swashbuckling-hero gorgeous. Romantic-lead-in-a-costume-drama gorgeous. Move over, Mr. Darcy. Beth’s mouth watered at the sight of him in the black leather trousers, black boots and flowing white shirt, left unbuttoned so that she could see his chest. Her knees turned to jelly in half a heartbeat—about the same length of time it would take to get herself off if she dared to touch her swelling clit.

  “Aroused already, Miss Harrison? Your nipples are such a giveaway.”

  He wasn’t wrong. They’d be only marginally more noticeable if she replaced them with bright-red LEDs that flashed out come and get me in Morse code.

  Alex had moved and was standing in front of her now. In a gesture redolent of indisputable ownership, his right hand cradled her breast, the thumb flicking back and forth across the sensitive, puckered flesh. “Give me your thoughts, sub.”

  Oh, that Dom voice again. Beth half-expected to feel rivers of moisture flowing down her inner thighs at how t
he voice and the order it gave made her feel. She looked at him with openly adoring eyes, and gave him words that came straight from her heart. “You’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

  The flicking stopped short. One small movement of his head and he was looking straight into her soul; she held her nerve and never wavered, until his lips touched hers. Eyes closed, she gave herself up to the kiss.

  “Oh, Beth.” He breathed her name as he nuzzled her cheek. “Why didn’t we do this years ago?”

  She couldn’t help the smile. “When you reach that part of the job interview where the interviewer asks you if you have any questions, ‘Do you happen to be a Dom, because I need one badly?’ isn’t exactly on the list of suggested subjects for enquiry.”

  Alex raised an amused eyebrow. “And I suppose if I’d told you that your job description would include submitting to me, you’d have run a mile.”

  “Probably.” Beth felt her confidence drain a little, and knew it showed in her expression.

  “It’s all right, love—you’ve been at war with yourself for a long time, so it’s going to take time for you to fully embrace your submissive nature. And don’t forget—when it comes to this game, we make our own rules up as we go along.”

  “Thank you, Alex.” She took his hand and lifted it to kiss the palm.

  “You’re a natural, sweetheart.” His voice held the warm honey of approval. “I think that maybe you deserve a little reward now—although with your stubbornness this morning…”

  Beth lowered her eyes. “I apologise. I should have trusted you, Sir.”

  “Yes, you should. So…what should I do with my beautiful new sub now?”

  “Whatever you see fit to do, Alex.”

  The St. Andrew’s Cross. She’d seen pictures of them before, lots of them, read novel after novel where subs had been shackled to them and driven to the heights of ecstasy, but now she was the one being bound to the freestanding saltire that dominated one end of the playroom.