His Dark Secret - Part 1 (Erotic Romance Serial Novel)

by Lovelace, Harriet

  I was surprised that no one was taken aback by this sudden outburst. I assumed this was a normal goodbye for Scott. He was looking straight at me.

  “Want to tag along for a ride?”

  His eyes had been on me all night and I wanted to see if there was a promise behind them. Jenny’s warning briefly buzzed in my head but I ignored it. Scott was different. He had stood up for me in front of that pretentious bitch Cynthia. I had been running for so long, hiding from my past, hiding from the future, and I was tired of it. I just wanted to enjoy the here and now for once. And Scott was the promise of the present.

  “Sure,” I got out, and we left the bar. We were chauffeured across town in his own private car, a sleek white sedan.

  “Sorry about them. Gary can be all right when he let’s loose, but Megan is utterly spineless. Between you and me I hope they break up, sooner rather than later. Desmond is a wet blanket. Talented, but a real bore. And Cynthia can be-“

  “A real bitch?” I interjected.

  Scott smiled. “Exactly. Especially when she’s jealous.”

  “Jealous of me?”

  “Samantha, you outshone her without even trying. You are gorgeous tonight.”

  I felt warm all over. I nuzzled into his shoulder.

  “Thank you Mr. Rushmand.”

  “Scott will do just fine.”

  “Then thank you, Scott.”

  We arrived at his apartment building, rising tall over downtown L.A., and took a private elevator to Scott’s top penthouse suite. It was like nothing I’d ever seen before, not in any movie or my wildest imaginations. Everything was sharp and modern, all silver and wooden browns. There was a bar next to the kitchen, both having a professional air about them; a projector hung from the ceiling and a screen stretched across the whole of the opposite wall. But the best part was the view: floor to ceiling glass windows opened up onto the City of Angels where a million lights winked at us. Constellations painted across the city.

  I had barely kicked off my shoes when Scott picked me up in a warm embrace, strong and comforting. My body melted, a tension that had been building up all day released in that instant. I wove my fingers into the dark waves of his hair, pulling him down to me.

  We stood that way a long time, clutching each other, until Scott broke off.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” he said. “This is exactly how I want it.” He paused. “Just before this goes any further, I’ve got a small request.”

  I gave him my best coy smile. “What would that be?”

  He drew me into the bedroom, and began rummaging through his closet. A few seconds later, he came back with a skirt and top strikingly similar to the slave girl outfit I’d worn earlier that day.

  “Mind putting this on? Just for me?”

  I smiled, grabbing the dress, and slipped into the bathroom.

  “Sure, and I’ll even do a dance for you.” At this last bit, I gave a wiggle of my hips then closed the door.

  I found that this costume was not exactly the same as the one before. The cut was similar, but somehow, left even less to the imagination. The sash top was sheer and considerably thinner, barely containing my breasts. And I didn’t have any tape to keep it in place this time. But it felt far more comfortable, gently grazing my nipples. The skirt, if you could call it that, was where the real surprise lay. It was just a few strands of coin that hung from a g-string thong that clung to the inner curves of my thighs and cheeks. No two ways about it, it felt uncomfortable, foreign on my body.

  The bathroom walls were all covered in long sheets of mirror, so I was able to catch every inch the costume revealed. Looking at my many reflections, I could more than accept the costume, I owned it. Even visually, if not physically, I enjoyed the way the fabric showed off my butt and created a sensual “V” between my legs.

  Meekly, I opened the door to find Scott sitting nonchalantly on the edge of the bed. He’d kicked off his shoes and removed his coat, leaving his slacks and shirt sleeves. A video camera stood on a tripod, a few feet away from the bed.

  When he saw my eyes float to it, my eyebrows raised in question he shrugged, “Something to remember the night by.”

  I hesitated, a little more nervous now that I knew I was being recorded, but Scott’s easy smile made me feel at ease.

  “I think I remember something about a dance.”

  Blushing, I swayed my hips, side to side, trying to find a rhythm. I closed my eyes, remembering the way the music at the club had taken control of my pulse. My body answered, the movement coursing through my spine, my limbs. My heart pounded, not sure whether it was because I felt vulnerable in front of the camera or because I could feel Scott’s hungry eyes on me. I opened my eyes, my arms stretching up above my head as my knees dipped down. I didn’t have to wonder how this scene was affecting Scott, the light from the bathroom catching each glinting coin of my skirt, each curve of my body. His eyes smoldered with desire.

  He crossed to me, bringing my whole body against him. I felt the tip of him straining against his pants, pushing between my legs, as our mouths met, warm and electric. I was unbuttoning his shirt, his pants, all in a flash. Scott pushed me onto the bed, climbing on top of me. He was kissing me again, my nipples rising in response to the touch of his shirt. He had my hands above my head and he was fumbling around out of sight. Something smooth and soft slid around my wrists, and then grew suddenly tight. I jerked my hands, which barely rose above my head; he had tied me to the posts of the bed.

  Seeing me startled he simultaneously kissed me and slipped the front of my thong to the side, playing with my lips. I moaned into his mouth, thrusting my head up into the kiss. He pulled back for a second, his fingers still playing with me.

  “It’s just something that helps me, tying up a girl. And if you feel uncomfortable, you can call a stop to this.”

  A finger, two slid inside me and I clenched around them.

  “Whatever is going on down there, don’t stop.”

  He smirked, making a beckoning motion as his fingers slid wetly, in and out. I gasped in response, as he kissed me, first long and fierce at the mouth, then moving down to my breasts, my stomach, diving deep between my legs. My arms worked against the silk bindings; I wanted to grab his head as he lapped away at me, but I couldn’t, the frustration adding to my state.

  In all our years together, Jamison had had me a number of ways, but he had never gone down on me. There was always an aversion behind his eyes. But under Scott’s tongue I was awakening, the tip flicking in and out as one hand played with my breasts.

  “Oh Scott, stop that, you’re gonna make me come too soon.”

  Scott lifted his head, shoving fingers into me that began to vigorously push me to the edge. He smirked up at me as I writhed.

  “What did you forget to say?”

  I gasped, “Please, stop.”

  “Better, but you have to do something for me as punishment.”

  Slowly, he untied me.

  “Sit up.”

  I complied, crossing my feet behind me. He kneeled in front of me, the front of his boxers stretched out. He reached behind me, grabbing the scarves, and thrust my arms up to their limits.

  “Take off my boxers.”

  Again, I strained against the scarf, but he just pulled up harder. A glint entered his eyes.

  “Take off my boxers.”

  I leaned forward and bit into the lining of his underwear. It to a few tries, but I got them down. He was fully erect, waiting. It quivered under my hot breath.

  “Suck it.”

  Without saying anything, I wrapped my lips around him, thrusting him into my mouth. My arms behind me, Scott holding me up, I somehow bobbed my head, my tongue playing with the head of his penis. At one point my front teeth scraped against the top of his shaft and he shuddered.

  “Careful. Just open up wider, let your lips and tongue do the work.”

  It didn’t happen again, and I could feel Scott responding to my touch.


  “Do you like sucking me off?”

  I moaned my assent into him, and he throbbed with the vibration.

  “Do you want it?”

  I pulled away, and with his loosening grip, was finally able to grab ahold of and stroke him.

  “I want you to fuck me, Scott.”

  He was on the verge of correcting me when I leaned forward, kissed the tip of his cock, and looking up at him said, “Please, Scott, fuck me.” I kissed him again. “But first I want to see you naked.”

  He grinned, pushing me back. He slid his boxers fully off, and slowly took of his shirt, revealing a toned, lightly haired chest. I crawled to the back of the bed until I was against the headrest. He was over me again, kissing me. With one hand he blindly reached into the nightstand, retrieving a condom. With one motion, he ripped the package open with his teeth and slid it on. He parted my legs, and entered without removing the thong.

  It wasn’t so much the size of him, but how he felt inside me, as if we belonged like this, each body complementing the other perfectly. We quickly found our rhythm, slow at first, but building. Somehow Scott had a hold of the scarves again, my arms crossed behind my back. It was a tension I could work against, with Scott trying to control me, my every movement a rebuttal to his control.

  One after the other, he lifted his legs so his knees locked against the outside of my thighs, holding himself up with one hand. In this position, he slid deep inside me, the shaft of him rubbing against my clit. This was good, I was gasping. I wrenched my hands free and dug into his back.

  I could feel that he was close, that he almost reached his limit, but he paced himself. He slowed down, then pulled out, saying, “Turn on your side.”

  When I did, he entered again, his thrusts slow and deep. My legs curled up behind him, heels digging into his firm butt. Something clicked inside me. I was close.

  “Scott, please, faster.”

  He was behind me now, beside me, spooning me, holding my breasts and kissing my neck.

  “Just like this Scott, yes, just like this.”

  I was bucking against him, my butt grinding into his hip.

  “Samantha, you’re wonderful.”

  I picked up the pace, adding a swivel into my motions. One of Scott’s hands snaked down between my thighs, playing with me while taking me from behind. His other hand was resting on my cheeks now, massaging. He lifted up my leg, crooking it forward. Somehow, with this hand, he got a finger in beside his cock, each keeping an alternating rhythm. He had me surrounded, playing every part of me beautifully. The pressure, the movement, the kisses on my neck, each was working to push me over.

  “Scott, please, it’s too much, just like that. Please, please, ungh!”

  I shuddered, clenching around him, my whole body shot through with electricity.

  “Scott, keep going, please keep going.”

  He was grunting now in response, deep and quiet in his chest. I could feel it vibrating into my back. Without words, he flipped me onto my front. He was no longer holding back, driving deep and fast into me. Suddenly, a sharp pain engulfed my right butt cheek, coinciding with the sound of skin on skin. He’d spanked me! He’d spanked me, and it turned me on.

  “Do it again, Scott, please.”

  He did, a few times, the back of me burning under each strike. It was doing something for Scott because I could feel him swelling more and more.

  “I want you to come inside me. Please, come inside me.”

  He clenched my hair, pulling my head back. I was on my hands and knees now, and Scott was giving in to a final burst of energy.

  “Samantha, you’re so good.”

  “Am I?”

  “Very good.”

  The words were barely out of his mouth before he sighed, collapsing on my back, still thrusting into me.

  “Baby, I want you to finish,.” he whispered.

  “Keep going, I will. Can you keep going?”

  “I can.”

  He reached between my legs again, furiously rubbing my clit. I was wet enough at this point that it didn’t matter. A few more strokes, and I gasped into the pillows, and we lay down next to each other. Still inside me, hugged me from behind, hands cupping my breasts. His chest was sweaty and heaving against my back. I turned my head to kiss him, drawn out and tired.

  “Samantha, that was-“

  “Don’t say anything. I want to fall asleep just like this.”

  He complied resuming his previous position. Warm and exhausted, we quickly fell asleep.

  ~~~

  The next day, I woke up with my head killing me. The sun was glaring through the large windows, and my first reaction was to curl up with my head under the pillow. I felt a biting pain in my leg, and realized I was still wearing the skirt from the night before; one of the coins was digging into my skin. The whole night rushed to the forefront of my mind in an instant: the bar, catty Cynthia, the ride in Scott’s private car, the kiss we shared entering the apartment, me dancing in the light of the bathroom, the sex we had with me tied up. I groaned.

  “You finally awake then?”

  I burst out of the folds of the blankets to find Scott, in socks, boxers, and a clean button up shirt. He seemed fresh and ready to get the day started, the exact opposite of where I was. I sunk my head back into the pillows.

  “I feel absolutely awful.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that baby. Do you need an aspirin?”

  I got a thrill at hearing him call me baby. “No I’ll make it through this. But thank you.”

  Glancing up, Scott already had his pants on, just finished buckling his belt. He sat down heavy on the side of the bed, putting his shoes on. Instinctively, I curled around him in a hug.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Energized and rested, thanks to you. That was quite a night.”

  I nodded in response. He smelled wonderful like clean skin and smoky cologne. Too soon, he got up, kneeling beside me.

  “I’m sorry I have to do this, but I’ve got to make a meeting right now. Dealing with the creative team on a side project. Miserable stuff, but it’s got to get done.”

  “That’s okay.”

  Scott smiled, leaned in, kissing me on the forehead.

  “Thanks for being understanding. Feel free to eat anything out of the fridge. I recommend the bacon and eggs, but skip out on juice or milk if you’re feeling sick. Stay as long as you want, you have free reign in here.” By this time he was in the other room, almost at the front door I wagered. “Oh, and leave your number on the counter so I can call. I’d like to see you again.”

  I heard the door slam, and I was alone in Scott Rushmand’s apartment. Everything was so confusing; my head couldn't string together two thoughts. I stripped out of the ridiculous outfit and showered. I was sore, especially between the legs and where Scott had spanked me, so the shower was a relief. Hot water on my skin, breathing in the steam, my head felt a little better.

  I toweled off and fell back on the bed, closing my eyes, trying to organize everything that had happened. Last night, I had had sex with a movie director that I had just met yesterday and let him tape me. It was great, but this was new. This was a big step into something, personally. Before the previous night I had only ever been with Jamison, and never in such a way.

  I went over the details of everything we had done and felt both embarrassed and excited. Scott hadn’t been forceful, but he had made an effort to control me, and I had given in. I had enjoyed struggling under the physical and metaphorical bonds, that there was a pressure, something to push up against.

  I grabbed water from the bathroom, and began to dress. While slipping into Jenny’s cocktail dress, I remembered how Scott had looked at it, me, the night before, in the bar, with that big, genuine smile. And how he had held me, both soft and strong at the same time, able to pick me up at a go.

  Shaking my head, I slipped on my high heels, headed into the suite. This wasn’t good. I couldn’t be getting involved with anyo
ne right now, a small pang of fear shot up my spine as I thought about Jamison, how he had treated me. Most likely Scott wouldn’t be abusive, but he could hurt me in other ways. Cynthia came to mind, how she had gone out of her way to make me feel small, to demean me. Maybe it had been to get Scott’s attention, make me less in his eyes. But he had chosen to defend me, take me home last night. But for how long would he continue to choose me? Jenny’s admonitions about the “Hollywood type” echoed in my mind.

  But through all the fear, the uncertainty, I knew one thing: I wanted to see Scott again. I searched the kitchen, passing on the food for the time being, and found a notepad. I jotted down my name, number, and after a second thought, I wrote a little message.