He gazed at me, green eyes darkening with an unreadable and unidentifiable expression. Then he set his drink on top of the coffee table and walked toward me, his face totally blank. Standing in front of me, he put his arms on my shoulders and gave me a gentle squeeze.
“Come now, Marjorie,” he said softly. “Forget about it all. There was no ill intent in all of this, not from Jeremy anyway. His only crime, if you can call it that, is matchmaking.” He crouched in front of me and tipped my chin, forcing me to look at him. His eyes slid over my coat, then traveled back to my face. Though his expression remained neutral, the surge of his desire swept through me like waves. “Take your coat off.”
“But—”
“No,” he cut me off, voice suddenly harsh. “Interrogation time is over. Now do as you’re told.”
What a one-track mind the man had. “You’ve averted my question.”
“What question?”
“I asked what your motives were.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. Then he looked at me in silence for a few heartbeats, as if mulling over his answer. “I already told you. You’ll have to figure it out on your own.”
I frowned at him, confused.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you, now that I think about it,” he said icily, straightening up in front of me, his hands now buried in his pant pockets. “Have you only been after my manuscript? Was that the only reason why you’ve afforded me the pleasure of taking that delectable body of yours?”
The cold air from the air conditioner was seeping through my bones, making my skin prickle. I crossed my arms over my chest to suppress a shiver. I opened my mouth to answer, even though my heart seemed lodged somewhere in the vicinity of my throat and talking had suddenly become difficult. I was about to drink more wine when I stopped. I didn’t think the warm liquid would get past my constricted throat.
“No,” I managed to croak. “I—I let you believe that about me, but the truth…the truth is that I…I wanted you.” Heat flowed up my neck and into my cheeks. I glanced down at the drink in my hand to hide the blush. “I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you. Your imposing, dominant nature intrigued me so much that I couldn’t wait to see how you were like in…in bed.” Then I told him more, the closest to a love confession as I would get. “I think you’re very attractive, Seton, and I always look forward to spending time with you.”
I swallowed hard and glanced up at Seton. His gaze met mine, eyes a set of emerald stones, his face remote and expressionless. “Is that the truth?”
I nodded.
Seton said nothing for a few moments, just stood there with that impassive look on his face. Then something shimmered in his eyes, a look that closely resembled remorse. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“I could’ve sworn you already knew I was attracted to you,” I said earnestly. “Didn’t it show in my eyes? My body language?”
“Yes. I knew you wanted me, but then I brought up the arrangement and the possibility of handing you my next book and…I thought that had been your main motivation.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and winced. “It was the perfect excuse, it made me less guilty whenever I—” He paused, a pained expression passing over his features. “You should’ve said something, Marjorie. Should’ve thrown a hint my way. Anything.”
I shrugged. “Why? Would it have made a difference? Would it have stopped you from teaching me your little lesson?”
“No. But things might have been different between us. I wouldn’t have done…certain things.”
His features softened, tension leaving his body, and I realized that he’d been bracing himself for an unpleasant answer. His reaction warmed places deep inside. It appeared that Seton wasn’t made of stone after all.
“Very well,” he said, flatness glossing over his features. “Thank you for answering. I appreciate your honesty. Now”—he reached out and traced his knuckles softly over my cheek—“let us move on to more important matters. Take your coat off. Then go upstairs and lie on the bed.”
I frowned at him. Had I just imagined the whole vulnerability thing?
“Come now, my pet. This is what I’ve wanted since we got here, but there’s been a slight change of plans.” An enigmatic smile tugged his lips. “I’m about to teach you a lesson that you won’t soon forget.”
My jaw dropped. There was no other way to react. Then I drew in a breath, incensed. Teach me a lesson? Teach me a lesson? Another lesson? He had some fucking nerve! He had just told me that this was all a setup, that he and Jeremy had been playing me for a fool, and now he expected me to continue to follow his orders as if nothing had happened? And he’d planned to teach me a lesson—another one—on top of everything else? Was he out of his friggin’ mind?
“Go upstairs,” he insisted. “Now. Do as I say, Marjorie, or else—”
“Or else what?” I asked defiantly.
“Or else I’ll punish you.”
“You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?” I said, digging my nails into my palms, suddenly furious.
His jaw tightened. “Do you remember the spanking you received over at your toy boy’s house, darling?” he said darkly. “Do you want me to make it ten times worse than that?”
I couldn’t see my face, but I felt myself going pale.
“I didn’t think so,” Seton countered arrogantly. “Now get up, take your coat off and move along.”
Sighing, I gulped down what remained of my wine, set the glass on the coffee table, then pushed to my feet, unbuttoning the raincoat. Slowly, I revealed one naked shoulder, then the other, and stripped off the coat until it slipped to the floor. I stood naked before Seton, my expression so full of venom it would have frightened anyone. But Seton just stood there, observing the depths of my disdain with a strange, unreadable look.
“Go upstairs,” he said broodingly. “Take off your shoes and then lie down on your back.”
I gave him a sarcastic little curtsy before I strode toward the stairs. I glanced at him over my shoulder as I turned on the landing. He glowered at me for several heartbeats, his eyes dark and morose, then heat glimmered through them when his gaze moved slowly down my body, his angry glint turning to one of lust. The passion blazing in his eyes stirred an answering fire deep within me, melting away some of my own anger. Arousal exploded inside, fanning through every corner of my body in stormy waves. I clenched my fist against the banister and rushed up the stairs, hating myself for loving him and wanting him so much.
“And keep your eyes closed whilst in bed,” he called out from downstairs.
I kicked off my shoes and crawled into the bed, scanning Seton’s bedroom. I had been there a couple of times before, and I’d always enjoyed its sexy, masculine ambiance, with its subdued lighting, hard-wood floors and cherry wood furniture. Seton seemed to like cherry wood—it was all over the house. The bed was a large four-poster with—you’ve guessed it!—a cherry-wood headboard. There was a large mahogany Queen Anne wingchair in the far corner of the room, a small table with a lamp and some books set right next to it. I’d always pictured Seton sitting there, reading a book, all nice and relaxed after a big day at the gallery.
I had entertained the thought of moving into this place. I’d even redecorated it in my mind, changing the bed’s blue and black comforter to one with more neutral, less masculine colors, adding a bit of a feminine touch to the rather elegant bachelor pad. But, of course, it would never happen, especially now that I knew what Seton had been up to all of this time.
I heard footsteps approaching the door. Hurriedly, I closed my eyes and crossed my hands over my stomach, trying to relax and go with the flow. This little game Seton was playing with me would have to come to an end eventually. But, for now, I’d just soak it up. I would enjoy the sex. I’d enjoy him.
I heard him enter the room, closing the door softly behind him.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he bit out.
He stood in f
ront of me, staring at me (I presumed) in silence, only the sounds of his steady breathing poured into my ears. Then he reached out and caught my wrists, guiding them toward the headboard. He tied my wrists together against one of the board’s wooden grills using a smooth, satiny material. Then he lifted my head slightly off the pillow and wrapped something around my head and over my eyes, tightening it on the back. A blindfold. Darkness surrounded me now, and I couldn’t simply open my eyes to make it go away. My heart began to pound with trepidation.
The total loss of sight made me aware of my other senses. I could smell the faint scent of Seton’s cologne and aftershave mixed with sweat and man, and heard the sounds of his movements and the occasional rumble of a passing car from outside.
I felt Seton bend his head close to my ear.
“Are you afraid, my pet?” he whispered, his breath warm against my neck.
My hands constricted against their restraints. “Yes.”
“What are you afraid of?”
A mixture of apprehension and confusion stirred within me. “I—I don’t know.”
“Afraid of me or…what?”
“I don’t know,” I repeated, my voice barely audible, even to my own ears. “All I know is that I’m afraid.”
“Good. You should be afraid.” He took my earlobe between his lips and sucked in gently. “What I’m about to do to you will be the scariest thing you will ever experience in your life.”
I gasped at his words. So, he did intend to punish me! And what could be worse than the spanking I’d been subjected to just a few weeks ago? Horrible images flashed in my head, and I immediately shut them out.
He curled one arm around my waist and lifted me lightly off the bed, placing a small cushion underneath me. My back was now arched, my nipples jutted up and my pussy scraped against the rough comforter. The warmth of Seton’s body heat radiated from him, and I fought the urge to arch toward him, to drive away the chill that came from both the air conditioner and the cold fear coursing within me. I fidgeted and kicked my feet against the bed, trying to figure out a way to break free from the restraints.
“Keep still!” Seton thundered.
“How long are you going to keep me here?”
“Until you’ve learned your lesson,” he answered darkly. “Relax, Marjorie. This will take some time.”
A fresh rush of fear coiled in the pit of my stomach. My heart pounded cold blood through my veins, panic seeping its way through my entire system. I shuddered and moved my wrists slightly in their bindings. By now the silky restraints were beginning to feel uncomfortably tight. My fingers itched to try to rip off the fabric somehow. But I made no protests. I would not defy Seton. Not now.
There was a long silence in the room. Where was he?
“Sir?”
“My pet.” His deep voice came from somewhere beside me. He hadn’t moved away.
I heard him open a drawer to his bedside table and rummage through papers and things. Then I heard the drawer close shut. I nearly fainted with fear when a cold, leathery, multi-tongued instrument brushed against the base of my throat.
“What—what is that?”
“It’s called a flogger. Ever heard of it?”
My throat tightened as I nodded. I had heard of floggers. They were whipping instruments, commonly used during BDSM encounters. Most of them were pretty harmless, while others—
“This is the cat o’ nine tails variety, similar to the ones used by the British Army centuries ago,” Seton said conversationally, sliding the tip of the flogger slowly down my neck. “This will burn and mark your flesh. The marks aren’t permanent, but they last for days, sometimes weeks. And the whippings are painful. Very painful. My spankings are gentle caresses compared to this.”
“Sir, please—”
His low chuckle echoed in my ears. “What, are you begging me to whip you?”
“No. Please don’t hurt me, Sir.”
He paused, then continued with his descent. I gasped when I felt the flogger’s tails brush against my breasts. I squirmed against the soft cushion that held my body up, but Seton grasped my shoulder firmly, holding me still. The flogger trailed along my skin, over my breasts, circling a nipple with a slowness that made me shiver. My nipples puckered in response in spite of the fear coursing through me. Seton withdrew the flogger from my nipple, replacing it with his tongue. His mouth captured my nipple, suctioning it and then withdrawing with a loud pop.
I gasped with pleasure, but remained guarded. I remembered what he did at Mitch’s house—how he’d soothed and relaxed me just moments before the spankings began. I wouldn’t let him fool me again. Horrible pain was imminent, and I wanted to be prepared for it. My breath came in rapid movements and my body tensed, bracing itself for sudden blows.
“Are you still afraid?” he asked me after moving away from my nipple.
“Yes.”
I felt his smile against my skin. “You bloody well ought to be,” he murmured, his voice dark and intense. “You have no idea how dangerous these bondage games can be in the hands of the wrong person. You’re in a helpless state, my pet, and unspeakable things could be done to you right now. Someone could hurt you, harm you, possibly even kill you, and there’s not a bloody thing you’d be able to do about it.”
My breath grew heavier as I lay there, body rigid, my outstretched arms straining against the smooth material that held them. My throat constricted all the tighter at the sound of Seton’s harsh words. I was aware of the dangers, and the risks, in this lifestyle. But Seton would never hurt me that way—would he?
He smoothed the flogger all the way down to my abdomen, tracing a path down to my vagina. Then I felt Seton’s fingers move down the smooth triangle between my thighs, slipping inside my aching folds. He let out a low, raspy chuckle.
“You’re wet,” he teased. “You know, I don’t think you’re quite as frightened as you say.”
“I am frightened,” I croaked.
“Yes,” he responded. “But you’re also aroused.”
I was afraid, yet my body managed to respond favorably to Seton’s ministrations. Either my brain was sending out all kinds of mixed signals, or my body knew better than to respond to my fear.
Seton’s fingers encircled my clit, causing me to gasp and wiggle against him. A quivering urgency surged through my lower belly and radiated to the center of my being. My body felt empty and unfulfilled, longing to surrender completely to Seton’s heady ministrations, but my mind willed it to remain rigid and to steel itself for impromptu blows.
But the blows never came. Seton opened up his bedside drawer again and closed it. Then I felt him move away. I almost panicked when I heard the bedroom door open and close.
“Sir?”
Silence.
“Sir?”
More silence. He was gone. Or, at least, I assumed he was. I lifted my head slightly off the plush pillows, straining my ears for any sign of movement. But I heard nothing. It was quiet, eerily so, and I’d never felt more afraid in my life. I slumped back down on the bed and sighed. I felt totally powerless, unable to see, unable to move, unable to do anything except to lie there, waiting for Seton to impose his power over me yet again, to prove that he called the shots, and to let me know that it would be that way until he got tired of me. Tears filled my eyes behind the smooth silk of my blindfold. I fought to hold them back, but it was only a matter of time before they trickled down my face.
A few minutes must have passed, but they felt like an eternity. My thoughts were scrambled by the dull ache that had started in my raised arms and now swept up to my bound wrists, but one thought had escaped all of the confusion and remained in the forefront of my brain: I was lonely. I had been lonely my whole life. Jeremy was right. No wonder I fell for Seton so fast! My heart had been desperate for someone who remotely resembled what I had longed for. And Seton was everything I’d ever longed for. But he would leave me, and I would be alone again. This is how it’s going to be, I thought, a soft sob e
scaping me. This is how it’s going to feel like after he’s gone. I will be alone again, and I’ll go back to that sad, pointless existence I had once bragged about so much. I’ll go back to a life without hope. Without love. Without him.
“Don’t be afraid, my pet,” a velvety-smooth voice came from somewhere near the door.
I started at the sudden sound. Had he been in this room all along?
“Yes,” he said, as if reading my mind. “I’ve been standing here. I didn’t leave you, my pet. And I won’t leave you.”
I sighed with relief as he climbed into the bed and situated himself somewhere near my feet. “Spread your legs,” he commanded hoarsely.
His words were an order my body was more than happy to obey. My legs parted as if in their own volition, spreading as wide as they could possibly go.
“That’s my girl,” Seton cooed. Then I felt him lean between my legs and blow a hot line of breath over my aching folds.
I trembled at the unexpected sensation that flared through me. My heart beat hard against my chest, sending a stream of warm blood through my veins. I strained against the smooth material wrapped around my wrists and let out a pleading moan.
“Don’t worry, my pet,” Seton said soothingly. “You shall receive your pleasure. This is all about you. Always has been. Don’t you forget it.”
His tongue traced a hot path over my slit, making me moan as I held back the tears that had collected inside my blindfold. Seton continued with his sensual assault, delivering French kisses to my clit as his hands slid to my hips, trailing a soft path over to my buttocks until he reached my cheeks, spreading them apart. I let out a strangled cry of ecstasy when he slipped the tips of his fingers into my anus. Sparks flooded throughout my body, making my legs quiver on either side of my sexual tormentor.
Seton abandoned his heady ministrations and proceeded to brush soft, feather-light kisses throughout my body. He worked on me silently, using his lips and tongue to spread tiny sparks of heat all over me. He kissed my stomach, encircling the navel with the tip of his tongue, then moved up to my breasts, flicking his tongue over one nipple, then the other, and kissed the valley between them. He traveled up to my collarbone, my neck, my chin, my jaw, until he captured my lips with his. Then he turned me over gently on my stomach, my wrists crossing together in their bindings. He straddled me and continued with the same sensual torture, only this time he used his hard cock.
The Dom of My Dreams: A BDSM Novel Page 23