The Velvet Ribbon

by Christie Adams

  He tasted as divine as she knew he would, and when she heard the low, guttural growl of arousal, saw the hands form into fists again, Beth let her mouth curve into the satisfied smile of a successful apex predator. For that moment she was in familiar territory—the unfamiliar still awaited her.

  She stood up and took a step back. What was she going to do with him? She’d never had reason to look at the Dominant side of the equation, not for real—it had only been for research and that wouldn’t work here. To give Alex what he needed, to give him the full attention he deserved, the experience he needed, she had to get into the Dominant mind-set, behave how an experienced Top would behave.

  “Lie down, Alex.”

  Again he obeyed immediately. In the absence of further clarification he lay on his back, his arms at his sides, hands palm-down on the bed, legs straight with feet about eighteen inches apart.

  Think, Beth!

  Her roving gaze fell on the toy box. Alex had moved some of the toys from the playroom into the bedroom—perhaps she’d find her inspiration in there. The flogger was out, as were the other impact toys—that was just plain wrong, and not only that, she hadn’t been trained in the use of such implements. In spite of what Alex had said, she was still fearful of doing something wrong.

  A quick rummage revealed wrist and ankle cuffs—they would do to start with. To go with the ankle restraints there was an adjustable spreader bar. That would put him in an open, vulnerable position, enabling her to make the most of the control she had over him. What to do with his arms, though?

  Beth didn’t want him spread-eagled, displayed as a living adaptation of da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. Legs yes, but she had a different vision for his arms. Another search of the box uncovered a shorter spreader bar—using that with the wrist cuffs, his arms would be stretched more vertically than horizontally. If she could just work out a way to anchor the bars in place…

  A hot image flashed across her imagination. Oh yes. She found exactly what she needed, and a few moments later, Alex was in exactly the position she’d imagined, with pillows and cushions supporting his body where necessary.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, checking his bonds as he’d checked hers so many times before. “Does anything hurt? Tell me if it does, now or at any time.”

  Until she asked those questions, her voice tender with concern, his control had been absolute. At that point, his eyes flicked over her face, briefly making contact with hers, and what she saw there could only be pure devotion. Then the contact ended and he averted his gaze.

  “Forgive me, Mistress. I’m all right.”

  Still fully dressed, apart from having kicked off her boots, Beth sat on the bed by his legs. She felt his thigh muscle tense under her hand as she started a slow, deliberate, tactile exploration of his glorious nudity. His skin was hot beneath her touch, the texture of it so different from her own. The feel of it reminded her of all the ways they differed, man versus woman, and how those differences were like the opposite poles of a magnet, obeying laws of attraction that were as old as the universe itself.

  He was exquisite, the most wonderful part of her life. That life could go on without him, but it would be a vast emptiness, a mere existence, not a real life at all. She hadn’t even known that a part of her was missing until Alex had removed the boundary between them and slotted into that space as if it had been tailored to fit him.

  “So, my love,” she began, aware that she was trying to buy time to organise her thoughts and develop some sort of plan, “you said you need to submit to me. What can I give you that will satisfy that need?”

  He swallowed hard; his Adam’s apple bobbed visibly. “I’m yours, Mistress. Now. Forever. Please…use me for your pleasure.”

  It gave her pleasure simply to look at him, to gorge her eyes on the magnificent male before her. For that he didn’t need to be restrained—not for her benefit, at any rate, but this wasn’t about her. It was about him and what he needed. The trust he’d placed in her was humbling.

  She went to kiss his mouth, but stopped halfway to pause a moment or two. As gracefully as she could, she caged his body beneath hers, one hand on either side of his head, arms braced for support, while her knees were on either side of his hips.

  From that position she could look down on him, her gaze burning with longing and desire as she slowly lowered her head to claim his mouth. When she caught his lower lip between her teeth and applied the same gentle suction as she had to his nipples, his suppressed moan of arousal thrilled her.

  With her confidence bolstered a little, she invaded his mouth with her tongue, coaxing a response from every corner of his soul, light and dark. He began to make demands of his own, so she drew back, turning her attention to his jawline and throat, pressing a trail of hot, wet kisses towards his chest.

  When she arrived at her destination, the ridges of muscle were too much of a temptation. With the tip of her tongue, she began to trace the lines. He tasted of salt and sweat, and delicious, virile male, and when she’d worked her way down to his navel, she licked a direct line straight up the centre of his body, to devour his mouth once more with a punishing kiss.

  “Now…what of your pleasure, Alex?”

  An innocuous-enough question, but when she watched the droplet of moisture trickle from the corner of his eye, she wished she hadn’t asked it. Damn it, what was going on in his mind? The cause still baffled her, but its impact was unquestionable. “It’s all right, my love—you’re safe here, with me. Nothing can hurt you here.”

  With great calmness and sense of purpose, she leaned down and kissed his lips again. She heard the clink of chains as he moved, kissing her back.

  “No, Mistress.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “Hurt me. Please, I need you to hurt me. Take away the pain.”

  His hoarse plea sent her eyes back to his beloved face, even as she drew back, almost recoiling in horror at what he’d said.

  She’d never seen such haunted bleakness before. Wherever he was, it wasn’t here, it wasn’t now—he was drowning in some past horror, something so terrible that it was overwhelming him and consuming him. Even as she watched, he sank deeper into its evil embrace, retreating further and further away from her.

  Panic rose up and would have choked her, but Beth fought it down. Now was not the time for that—she needed to pull Alex back, get him out of the claws of whatever held him in a vise-like grip.

  “Alex!”

  There was a flicker of response at the sound of his name; it gave Beth hope that he might not be lost to whatever was happening in his mind. Over and over, she said his name, shouted it, whispered it—she cajoled him, she remonstrated with him, she seduced him, and in between using his name as if it were a talisman, she told him she loved him.

  And gradually, she watched him come back to her. Their eyes connected again, and a moment later his eyelids descended, as if he just couldn’t face her.

  His respiration, calming now, was still shallow. Beth stroked his hair back from his face. She wanted to run away from this with every atom of her being, but she couldn’t let him down like that. What was she to do?

  Beth knew she was avoiding the issue—he’d already told her.

  He needed pain. And that meant she had to hurt him. God help me.

  Unless somehow, she could distract him. Bracing her hands on his ribcage, she positioned herself precisely over his cock, and then lowered herself so that the rough material of her jeans came into contact with his sensitive, stimulated flesh. As his hips rose restlessly to meet her, a low moan escaped him.

  “Remember your safe word, Alex, and use it if you want this to stop.” She began to move, a gentle riding motion that would rub his dick and increase his arousal—an arousal she was determined should not culminate in orgasm just yet.

  She felt him straining beneath her, hips rising in a fruitless attempt to put his shaft inside her. Acting purely on instinct, she pinched and twisted his nipples to get
his attention.

  “Oh no, Alex, you’re not getting away with that.” Her voice was stern. “You’re not putting that anywhere near me, nor are you allowed to come. Not yet.”

  She unfastened her shirt, opening it up to show him that she was naked beneath it, relishing the fire that fought the haunted look in his eyes. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  Eager to feast on the man beneath her, she lay down on top of him, loving the heat of his skin next to hers. Wanting him was like a fever, burning her up—she could easily eat him alive. Her mouth branded him everywhere—everywhere except on his mouth, knowing as she did just how much he wanted that connection again. His erection was still pushing against her pussy, even though it remained shielded by her clothing.

  Beth reached for his hands, twining her fingers with his, in full knowledge that the action would offer her breasts to his mouth. As her slave, he would not be allowed to draw her nipple into his mouth—she ordered him to resist the temptation.

  “What do you want, Alex?” she breathed close to his cheek. “What do you need?”

  The expressions that crossed his handsome face made her heart ache for him. “You, Mistress,” he admitted. “I need you.”

  Beth needed him too. “In what way?”

  Tears filled her eyes at the pain that had him turning away from her. No, not pain—torment. That was it—enough was enough. She couldn’t let his anguish go on. She couldn’t hurt him. She just couldn’t. Enjoying the sense of control was one thing, but that wasn’t her, not really. She just wanted to love him. There had to be another way for Alex to deal with this demon that rode him so hard.

  “Garnet.” She would say the word, even if he would not. “I can’t –”

  “No!” His eyes, the look in them almost wild, flashed back to her.

  “I can’t do this to you, Alex!” She was desperate to release him from his bonds.

  “Beth, please—take it back! Take it back. You have to! Take it back!”

  He was clearly as desperate to keep this going as she was to end it. She searched his face, and all she could see was distress and need. Knowing the level of self-control Alex habitually exhibited, something told her that what she saw was only the tip of the iceberg. She hated herself for what she was about to say, but he’d given her no choice—it was what he needed.

  “I take it back.”

  Her head dropped beside his; plunged into misery, she was barely aware of him moving his head to rest his cheek against hers.

  “Thank you, Mistress.”

  Beth took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead. Whatever it was, however he wanted her to hurt him, it was something the man she loved needed so much that it drove him to go against everything that he was. She didn’t want to think what could wield that kind of power over such a dominant man—it had to be truly terrible.

  “Tell me exactly what you need, Alex.” If he’d do that, she could do just enough to get him through this.

  “Please, Mistress, I need you to fuck me.”

  Now she really did want to run away. Her eyes wet with tears, Beth turned her head away so that he couldn’t see. This was a descent into hell itself. He’d managed to avoid inflicting any real pain, but this… Her luck had just run out.

  She wanted to question his assertion, to make him stop and think, but her instincts were telling her that he’d thought about this more than once and now something had triggered a need to turn thought into reality.

  Her fingers still entwined with his, she tightened her grip on his hands, teeth biting down on her lower lip to stop the tears from flowing. She had to be strong…for him.

  “Please, Mistress…Beth. I need this. It has to be you.”

  He trusts you to do it for him. Don’t let him down.

  She let go of his hands and straightened up. Looking down at him, the entreaty in his eyes, the love she felt for him reminded her that it was a living thing inside her, a part of her that would never leave, no matter what. With great tenderness, she framed his face with her hands and kissed his mouth. “I’ll need you to turn over.”

  Beth adjusted her Dom’s bonds so that he could lie face-down, with pillows to make him both comfortable and more accessible. Regardless of the current situation, he was still in charge in the bedroom, and this was something he had asked her to do for him. She was aware of his eyes on her as she removed her clothing.

  “Beth…my beautiful Mistress. You’ll find what you need in the bottom drawer over there.”

  Her hands shook as she opened the drawer; there, brand new, still in its packaging, was a strap-on dildo. She was right. He had thought about this more than once, and had prepared for it. Beth’s hand tightened around the toy—such an innocent word for something so hateful. She hated that Alex had prepared for this—she hated knowing that it was premeditated and now inevitable.

  For Alex. The man I love.

  Feeling sick, she buckled it in place, her vaginal muscles clenching around the shorter, thicker end that was supposed to be there for her pleasure. A means to an end. She silently recited the phrase over and over, brainwashing herself into accepting this for what it was.

  A means to an end.

  She slathered the longer, narrower protrusion with lube.

  Alex was lying there so calmly, waiting for her to prepare him. She joined him on the bed—the first thing she was going to do was kiss him. For the sake of her own sanity, she had to believe that she was doing this for love.

  “Alex, I want you to know how much I love you. You mean everything to me. Try to relax—I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Alex could never tell Beth why he needed to step out of reality and into the fantasy where he was her slave. Not all of it, anyway. She helped him to sleep at night, but she could never know why he needed her to do this for him. Cam knew the full story behind it, as did the medics who’d treated his body after the kidnapping and the counsellor with whom he’d had no patience, but no one else. No. One. Else. With Beth in his bed, he’d been able to cope with the memories, but now he needed her to exorcise them completely.

  If he was going to face death, he needed closure; he needed to replace that memory with another, one where the act was carried out with love, not hatred. He could only replace it with Beth beside him—there was no one else he could ever have trusted with this.

  He hadn’t intended this to happen when he’d brought her to their bedroom—he’d just wanted to be with her. But then, when she’d kissed his back, kissed scars left by the wounds that had nothing to do with the IED incident, a switch was flipped in his mind—he needed Beth to take the memories away for good. It seemed as if he’d always known that one day he’d ask this of her, and that day had finally arrived.

  He watched her come closer. The pain and desolation in her eyes were like razor-sharp knives driving through his heart. The knowledge that she was doing this—doing it for him—was the broadsword among them. It told him—as if he needed telling—just how deep her feelings for him ran.

  He was a bastard for doing this to her but the need that drove him to do it was too strong. As well as closure, he was convinced this could let him be the man he’d once been. The man he needed to be for her.

  Her hand was gentle on his upper arm, stroking down to his wrist. “Will you at least let me remove these?” She rested her hand on the cuff.

  He shook his head. Restraints were an integral part of the images that haunted his mind—they had to be there.

  Her sense of resignation hit him like the shockwave from a nuclear blast.

  Beth knelt beside him. She would have no way of knowing the reason for this, but in her eyes he saw the recognition that this wasn’t some random impulse. He could only hope that it was enough for her to do what was needed.

  Her hand was gentle on his hair, the back of his head, and at that simple contact, he felt himself calm down. Her hands moved to his shoulders and back, long caresses preceding the s
weet, gentle kisses she dropped like blessings along his spine—blessings that touched the soul she’d given back to him and gave him hope for a future he’d never dared dream of.

  If he survived…

  Alex closed his eyes, recalling the destructive, harrowing memory of what was, without doubt, a visit to a version of hell so terrible no one could imagine it. He no longer felt Egyptian cotton under his cheek, but dirt and gravel; it wasn’t Beth’s subtle perfume he could smell, but the foul stench of stale sweat, urine and other human detritus. He was no longer lying on his bed at home, but shackled to stakes driven in the earth floor, stripped of his clothing, his dignity, his humanity, choking on the gag they’d stuffed into his mouth, listening to what his captors—who had no idea he could speak their language—were planning to do to him. He remembered his fight not to be sick, the struggle against the rising tide of nausea, the denial that screamed inside his head even as the rutting began.

  The mental walls went up again, divorcing his mind, his heart and his soul from what was happening to his body. His breathing became shallow and rapid as the ruined walls of that godforsaken cellar in the abandoned house loomed up around him, creating that filthy, claustrophobic prison, where rough hands had tried and failed to shatter his will. It had taken every ounce of strength he possessed to hold on to his sanity—even now, it still terrified him to think of how close they’d come to breaking him, with the pain, the humiliation…and the act that, even now, even as only a memory, could still make him go cold with fear.

  But no more. It was time—finally—to annihilate the nightmares. They had no place in his life with Beth. He was in his own home, lying on the big bed he shared with the woman he loved. It was her hands touching him, touching him so gently, with love and care; her warm, feminine perfume was wrapping itself around him; he lay on sheets that were clean and white…pure, just like her. Submitting to the act carried out with love was his choice—it wasn’t being forced on him.