Sylvie's Gift

by Adrianna Dane

  Her heart thumped in her chest, her nipples tightened at the thought of spending time with Daimaen. A whole day. Did she dare? She had a feeling she knew what he'd expect.

  "I ... I ... no, I don't have any plans.” She should have come up with an excuse, something. He made her nervous. His potent energy and assuredness frightened her, throwing her off balance.

  "Good. I'll pick you up at ten. Wear a dress that's comfortable and light."

  "Where are we going?"

  "Oh, and Sylvie? Don't wear a bra. Your breasts are too beautiful to be confined. It pleases me to think of them unbound, waiting for my touch."

  He ended the call before she could say anything else. Sylvie stood there, staring at the phone. That control thing again. Where was he taking her? Didn't she have a right to know? This feeling of someone taking over her life, her choices, scared her.

  Wear a dress? Don't wear a bra? If she wanted to wear one she would, dammit. If she wanted to wear jeans, she would. She knew it was being juvenile, but she felt mutinous. Who did he think he was to tell her what to wear and what not to wear?

  But she felt the betraying heat in her stomach. Something inside her liked the command in his voice, wanted to submit to it. She was aroused by the thought of bending to his challenge. She felt the betraying moisture between her legs. What was wrong with her? She was an independent, self-confident businesswoman. Vice-President of a Fortune 500 company. She supervised numerous employees. When she gave instructions, they were carried out implicitly, to the letter.

  So what were these feelings inside her all about? No man had ever tried to dictate to her in the bedroom. It had always been an equal relationship; she always let them know what she would and would not agree to do.

  But then, a little voice inside reminded her, they never wanted to cross you. It was always civilized, no touch beyond the normal, expected caresses. Did they excite you? Did they arouse you the way Daimaen Sinclair does?

  Sylvie couldn't lie to herself. No one had ever aroused her more passionate side, the side she kept hidden, locked away, where no one could see. Only Daimaen had touched that inner core, had breached the wall she kept her emotions locked behind. And that frightened her. That anyone could do that to her, scared her half to death. She'd always prided herself on her control. Her father had always said, Sylvie, control yourself, and you control the room. Let down your guard, for a minute, and you've lost the war. And so she had always kept a firm control. Too bad he hadn't followed his own advice at home. He'd never controlled his anger at home, always releasing it to wrap around her and her mother, using violent force to subdue and choke them into submission. She shuddered at her memories.

  Daimaen Sinclair was an animal of a different nature. She would have to come to terms with his powerful personality, because she knew he wouldn't settle for half measures. He said he was good at reading people. Well, so was she. If she continued with this ... could it be called a relationship? If she continued, he would require her submission. Allison had made her all too aware of his appetites. He was way out of her league.

  So why did he want to see her again? She knew she wasn't up to his brand of relationship. He must know that as well. Did he consider her a challenge? Was that his interest?

  Sylvie didn't like the thought of pain, of being bound and tied up, open to someone else's whims and demands. That kind of loss of control scared the bejeezus out of her. Breath caught in her throat. Would he want to do that to her? Would he want to hit her, use whips on her, beat her? She shuddered at the thought.

  But then in her mind she remembered the previous night. Although he'd been firm in his demands, he'd been gentle. His hands on her body built her fire, and then he seized her passion. But he hadn't been cruel, he hadn't hurt her, hadn't belittled her.

  There is a pain that lives on the border of pleasure. It enhances pleasure. Those were his words. She didn't understand them. How could pain be a part of pleasure? Did she really want to find out?

  Sylvie felt on the verge of discovering something about herself. For years she'd felt something missing. Is there a reason she'd kept it buried all this time? She shivered at the thought of what she might discover.

  Daimaen Sinclair touched something inside her, and she wanted to know more, to feel more. Curiosity killed the cat, you know. She brushed that thought aside. Anticipation spiraled inside her. How was she going to get through the remainder of the day?

  Sylvie walked into her office and stared at the computer. Maybe if she did a little Internet research, she would be more prepared. She didn't like going into a situation without being armed with knowledge.

  She sat down and powered up the computer. What should she search for? Pain? BDSM? What would she find out? She wished Allison had been more forthcoming about the lifestyle.

  Sylvie tried to reason with herself that Allison was her best friend. She would never lead Sylvie down a path where she'd be hurt.

  The results of the matching list of sites was mind-boggling. Where did she start? Was there one that would explain the terms Allison used? How about Master. Yes, what exactly was a Master?

  Sylvie looked closer at the screen. This was going to take a long time.

  * * * *

  As Daimaen drove into the parking garage beneath Sylvie's apartment the next morning, he was curious as to whether she would follow his instructions. They'd been minor, meant as a small test. If she did as he asked, he would take it as a sign of her willingness to explore. God, he was looking forward to this. He'd take great pleasure in initiating her slowly. His blood hadn't burned this hot for a woman in a long time. Such surprising innocence packaged so beautifully. He looked forward to helping her uncover her hidden needs and desires, because he didn't think she had a clue what actually would fulfill her. So much uninitiated passion to be tapped. By him.

  Having been introduced long ago into the world of dominance and submission, Daimaen had reached a point some time ago where he searched for that one true submissive to initiate into his life for a long-term relationship. He sought a level of commitment he knew he wouldn't find at the various parties and scenes he attended. He'd been to enough of them to know the woman he sought wasn't there. He'd practically given up on finding her.

  Most of the women he met had heard of his expertise and sought him out only because of his reputation as an intense, yet imaginative Master, able to exact almost perfect obedience from his submissives, providing them with satisfying and pleasurable experiences. But their wants and his interest were usually short-lived, as were their attention spans.

  Until Joseph's party. He still didn't know why he'd agreed to attend, but for once, he was glad he had. Finding Sylvie was definitely worth it.

  Daimaen turned the silver Mercedes into a parking spot beneath her building. He was eager to begin.

  * * * *

  Sylvie was nervous and paced the living room floor, her stomach churning. What she had read on the Internet scared her to death. Of course, she was always one to assume the worst.

  A knock at the door caused her to jump. She swallowed hard, then walked to the door and opened it.

  Very male, very dark, very ... arousing. He was dressed in white Dockers and a navy blue polo shirt that set his caramel tan off to perfection. Damn, he looked good enough to eat. Her heart pounded in anticipation. The memory of her Internet search was fading fast.

  His eyes slowly surveyed her from her feet to her head. Each nerve in her body reacted as those rich dark-brown eyes slid upward. Her hands clenched and unclenched. She felt naked beneath their intensity, or maybe it was just the way the cloth of her sundress rubbed against her sensitive nipples.

  He hesitated at her breasts. Her breathing increased and her nipples beaded. She felt them swell, as though demanding to be touched.

  Sylvie saw an appreciative golden gleam in his eyes and a smile curved those sensuous well-shaped lips. What she wouldn't do right now to feel their touch on her body.

  "You look beautiful, Sylvie.
Quite lovely. Are you ready to go?"

  She couldn't get her voice to work, so she just nodded. She turned and grabbed her purse and a white cardigan to wear over the floral yellow-print sundress.

  She cleared her throat. “I don't know where we're going—is there anything else I should be bringing? Different shoes, a heavier jacket?” She was trying to get him to tell her what their destination was.

  "I'll take care of everything. You only need to bring yourself.” He stood aside for her to precede him out the door.

  Well, that didn't get her far. She still didn't know where they were going.

  As she walked past him, he stopped her with a light hand to her forearm. His fingertips trailed a lazy path from her shoulder to her fingertips and she shivered.

  She looked up at him, knowing there was uncertainty in her eyes, and most likely, some fear. “This scares me, you know. I think I'm out of my depth here. I get the feeling you're way out of my league."

  He curved his arm around her waist and guided her to the bank of elevators. “Nothing is going to happen that you won't like. I only want to give you pleasure. Today we'll just get to know each other better. You'll enjoy it, believe me. Think of it as a little adventure, someplace you've never been before. You like discovering new places, don't you? Finding a new restaurant is always fun. Discovering new tastes you didn't know you'd like, that's enjoyable, isn't it?"

  Sylvie nodded her head. “Yes, but I somehow don't think this is the same thing."

  They stepped into the elevator. He tapped the garage level button to take them down, and the shiny silver doors closed. Daimaen turned to her, his heated gaze fusing her to him.

  "Do you know how much I want to have you naked right here, right now? I wonder what you'd do if I asked you to strip?"

  She was surprised by the jolt of excitement that shot through her at the thought of exposing herself in such a public place. She saw it in her mind, just a flash that made her wet. The hooded, lazy look in his eyes as he studied her seemed as though he knew what the thought of such an exhibition was doing to her.

  Daimaen's fingers caressed her arms, shivers ran through her. She held her breath as he ran one warm, thick finger along the inside edge of her halter style top, tracing from her collar bone to the dip between her breasts. “No,” he murmured, a small smile on his lips. “Not today. Another time, maybe.” He removed his finger and turned away from her as the doors to the elevator slid open and he guided her toward his car.

  Her breathing resumed, yet her body was wound tighter than a newly strung piano wire. Why did her body respond so ... enthusiastically ... to his voice, to the lightest touch of a finger? What was it about him?

  "Relax, you're going to enjoy the day. Trust me."

  Trust him? How could she trust him after what she had read? A Master, according to one website, was very controlling, expected the person he was with to bow to his every demand, and he would punish if his commands weren't followed.

  She studied Daimaen's strong profile as they left the parking garage. “This isn't going to work."

  "Are you afraid?"

  "Yes. I've read about this lifestyle on the Internet. Allison says you're considered a Master. Why wouldn't that frighten me? I don't know what you expect, but I don't think I can be what you want."

  "Why did you frighten yourself that way? You should have asked me, or asked Allison. Do you really think Allison would allow you to go into a situation that was dangerous? With a man who is dangerous to your well-being?"

  "Well, no. She's a good friend, I trust her. But she wouldn't tell me very much. She said I should ask you."

  "Well? So ask me if you don't understand something. We're just getting to know each other. I expect you to ask questions."

  Sylvie took a deep breath. So, okay, she would ask, and get it off her chest. “What's a Master?"

  "A Master is the title used for a man, a woman would be called a Mistress, and it's someone whose preferences are for a Dominant role in a relationship. It could be someone who demands control maybe just in the sexual part of the relationship, or could expect total submission in all aspects. It usually is someone who has been in the lifestyle for a long time, may have started out as a submissive, but has a larger knowledge and expertise."

  "Is that what people call you? Master? Is that what you would expect me to call you? I mean, I don't think I can do that. And what do you expect? Total submission or just—” She couldn't finish the thought. She also knew she couldn't see herself doing any of it.

  Daimaen smiled. “No, Sylvie, I don't expect you to call me Master. Some do. Some like to be called Sir. There are various terms. I expect you to call me Daimaen. The most important thing to remember is that my task is to give you pleasure, whatever form that will take. To provide what you need. And in submitting to me, you will give me what I require.” He moved a hand to her knee and slowly slid it up along her thigh, the hem of her dress bunching beneath it as her leg was exposed to the heat of the early morning sun.

  "What do you mean, whatever it takes?” Her voice was husky with arousal.

  His hand moved closer and closer to the apex of her thighs, and, if he kept it up, he'd find certain evidence of her arousal at his words. “Just as I said. It's my task to discover what gives you the most pleasure. We'll discover together. But you'll also need to learn to trust me, to trust that what I ask of you is for your pleasure, not just mine, and you'll obey me, whatever that is. I expect total submission, and that is something you must be willing to accept."

  He now fingered the elastic of her panties, skimming the outer edge. She knew he could feel her wetness, how damp her underwear had become. Then his finger slid lightly across her sensitive lips, and she inhaled deeply, her eyes closed. She tried to control her response to his invading fingers, but her voice was tight when she spoke, finding it hard to concentrate.

  "I don't think I can work with that word ‘obey.’ It goes against the grain of who I am."

  "Do you know who you are, Sylvie? Really?” He removed his hand from her panties. “You're aroused, just by our conversation. Do you really think I don't know what pleases you? Be honest. You're excited by the world I'm offering you. Are you brave enough to step into it?” He brought his hand back and inhaled deeply. “I felt it in your wet, silky honey, and I can smell your sweet, hot scent. Today, I'm going to give you just a taste of the adventure. After today you're free to walk away ... if you can. But I think you'll want more. I've waited for you a long time, and I won't rush you now that I've found you. You'll find I have infinite patience where you're concerned."

  She wanted to tell him no, to take her home. But if she was truthful with herself, she knew she was curious. And he was right, she did respond to him in ways she didn't think possible. Could she really close the door before venturing a peek inside?

  All right, she'd never been known as a coward; she'd give him today. But then, she promised herself, she would end it. Spiraling out of control, this need that ground at her, was not who she was. She wouldn't accede to his seductive ways.

  At least that's what she kept telling herself.

  CHAPTER 6

  They arrived at the pier and Daimaen pulled into the parking lot and parked the car.

  Sylvie looked around. She'd never been here before. “Do you own a boat?"

  "A sailboat actually. We're going sailing. Not too far, just a nice day's outing, someplace private.” He came around to her side of the car and helped her out. “It should already be stocked for our trip. I asked my personal assistant to see to it."

  Daimaen drew her hand through his arm and guided her along the pier to a sailboat that looked manageable by one person, but also large enough to be comfortable on a recreational weekend outing. It was very sleek and powerful, like its owner. He helped her step aboard, made sure she was comfortably seated, and proceeded to untie the boat from its moorings. He started the engine, and guided it into open waters.

  It was a beautiful summer day, an
d the water glittered beneath the rays of the sun. Sylvie breathed in deeply, enjoying the fresh clean smell of the sea, much better than city smog. She watched Daimaen as he expertly steered the boat through the narrow channel. Legs astride, the wind ruffling his dark hair, he was in charge of the world. A pirate out of time, is what ran through Sylvie's mind, or a privateer, at home on the sea as well as on land. She had no problem just sitting and watching him maneuver, appreciating his prowess as he raised and lowered sails, but she felt a little useless, actually a lot useless. She'd never been on a sailboat before and didn't know the first thing about sailing, so she sat and tried to stay out of his way as he moved around the small deck.

  Finally settled behind the wheel, Daimaen called to her. “Come to me, Sylvie.” She stood and slowly made her way to his side. The wind caught and whipped the skirt of her dress, but he drew her before him, shielding her from most of its fierceness, and she felt the exhilaration of the vast openness of the blue sea. He handed her a pair of binoculars, then pointed. “A school of dolphins. Do you see them?"

  She squinted, then put the binoculars up to her eyes, and focused. “Will we sail closer to them?"

  "They'll probably be gone by the time we reach that spot, but there'll be more. Look to the right. Do you see that spray? It's probably a whale."

  Quickly she turned her head and brought the binoculars back to her eyes. It was so beautiful out here. She looked back at him and smiled. “Thank you for bringing me. I've never been out in a small boat before. It's so ... I don't know how to describe it ... the vastness, the beauty—exciting, I guess."

  "I thought you might enjoy it.” The smile that came to his sensuous lips could only be interpreted as satisfaction. “It's the untamed wildness that's so invigorating, the idea of the unexpected."

  "Well, you don't need to look so smug about it. You could have told me where we were going."

  "That would have spoiled the surprise. We'll continue for about another hour, and then I have a nice, quiet place picked out for us to anchor."