by Flora Dain
Now I glance up through my lashes and sense him stiffen.
‘Get on the floor, face down.’
I do it, excited now. Fearing the worst I tense as he pulls up my wrists and then my ankles. The floor’s taking my weight but I’m helpless in his grip. I gasp as he suddenly loops them together.
‘Simple hog-tie,’ he murmurs. ‘These are easy slip-knots. You can get out of them if you really need to. Try it.’
I try it a couple of times until he’s sure I’m not trapped. But the feeling is still terrifying. The pose is humiliating in the extreme. I feel like a trussed crab.
He flips me over onto my back and I lie splayed under his gaze like an awkward beetle, my arms and legs looped below me, my breasts, hips and everything else thrust upwards on open display. Now I’m throbbing with excitement, arching before him, primed for his pleasure.
He runs a firm, controlling hand all over my taut, exposed body, making my muscles ripple in reflex. ‘Very nice. And if we flip you over –’ he turns me over onto my stomach and hauls on the loop ‘– we have a very useful place to start.’
With a rush of air I feel his hand land a hard slap on one side of my rump. As I yell he lands another.
‘See? Full access. We can have a lot of fun with this.’
‘We can?’ I mutter.
We do. I’m outraged, very hot and very needy when he finally flips me back over and laughs down at me, giving his head a rueful shake. ‘You’ve made my hand sting.’
‘Me too.’ I grit my teeth at the fiery afterglow on my rear and the hot, needy ache flaring deep inside. ‘I feel like a forest fire.’
He leans over and finds my mouth, his tongue surging inside with a sudden force that stops my breath. I kiss him back eagerly, longing for more now I’m over the worst, but the final invasion is still some way off.
When he pulls away from my mouth I’m panting a little, glowing all over, everything primed. The enforced position is making me ache, but the thought of being looped like this, open like this, is making me numb with longing.
‘How long do I stay like this?’
His eyelids lower. ‘You know the rules. Until we’re done. Now let’s see that beautiful mouth get to work.’
He edges into position over me, watching me carefully as I arch to reach him, running my tongue along one side of his cock and down the other, then searching out the warm, earthy places around his root. At last his breathing grows more urgent and he leans over for me to reach him fully, sighing when I take him in as far as I can and suckle gently as he shifts position to get into rhythm. He’s so engorged and so eager now I can sense he’s fighting to hold off. At last he pulls away, his shaft glistening with my saliva.
It looks so good …
He reaches under my back. ‘I want you at the edge of the bed. Arch up a little.’
He lifts me up, carries me a little way and places me gently at the edge of the bed and eyes me critically.
‘Now rock up onto your hands and spread your thighs. I want your knees splayed wide.’ His slow smile as he pats me into position sends my arousal spiralling into hyperspace as the constraining rope holds me off, trapping my arms and feet behind me and exposing my all, perfectly aligned to suit his needs.
With a gleam he juts forward and fills me in a single, slick thrust that rocks me back on my hands and makes me cry out at the joy of it.
I’m trapped, tied and rigid. The least pull on my arms or legs splays me wider. It’s impossible to close or cover my burning places – and somehow this makes everything urgent and intense. I’ve never wanted him in me so much, craved him so violently. As his column pounds and his powerful loins batter my swollen softness, every touch of his skin on mine adds a further spark to my flames.
Far sooner than I’d like, I climax in a series of violent spasms. As they start to ebb he comes too. His low growl of content is muffled as he buries his face deep below mine, his body curving over me like a living blanket, covering my sighs and teasing the last ripples out of my glowing climax with soft, light touches of his body against mine.
Wolfe Time.
* * *
During the night I wake suddenly to the distant whine of a motorcycle. Darnley hears it too. He stiffens in my arms as he comes to the surface.
Shit. Will he freak again?
‘Darnley? You OK?’
His arms tighten around me. ‘What do you think? Go to sleep.’
In the morning, as usual, I wake up alone. As I bolt my cereal the news bulletin tells me The Biker, the media’s new nickname for the sex pest, has struck again. Police are still coy on detail. His attacks are gaining quite a following and news outlets are sizzling with rumour. There’s even an online quiz to guess his wackiest MO as voted in by members of the public.
On my drive to work I watch out for motorcycles.
CHAPTER TEN
Ella? Hi. Have a good Christmas? When’s the wedding? ran Lydia’s text.
This morning I left for work in thick fog. Here in the foothills it’s a bright, sunny morning and I’m standing by a swaying palm tree in the complex. On my right the pool is being drained, to my left I hear wholesome, healthy noises from the gym.
Birds are singing.
Sorry to ask, but I need the date. Savoy wants to bring half South America.
My heart sinks. Wedding? I’m still wrestling with my fiancé’s hang-ups, an outbreak of ultra-personal vandalism and the shock of meeting Ryan, my vengeful ex. This weird intrusion from my past is bad enough, without having to face the minefield of wedding plans.
Plus dealing with Darnley’s birth mother Savoy, a notorious former socialite, and his stepmother Lydia, a closet former glamour model, may cause all-out war. And that’s before we get to my own family, ultra-normal New Englanders and about as far removed from metropolitan high-flyers as you can get.
Besides, I have my own ideas about weddings. Darnley and I must have spent all of ten seconds talking about them. As he pulled out of me after a glorious, welcome-back Christmas fuck he breathed in my ear. ‘Hey. You want a big wedding?’
‘No.’ I nuzzled into his neck, still high on sex and the delicious aroma of his skin as his creamy essence trickled over my leg.
‘OK.’ He buried his grin in my lips in a long, satisfying kiss.
And that was it. I’ll work on the detail later.
Now I smile grimly and text her back. All in hand. We’ll be in touch.
Minutes later my heart does a backflip. Darnley himself is prowling towards me, flanked by some men in suits. I recall some psychologists from UCLA are being shown round this morning.
As he draws close I feel a familiar tingle. But with the visitors looking on I nod demurely, keen to avoid another porno.
His intense look is disturbing enough. When he’s introduced me to everybody he takes me aside for a moment. ‘Am I in the middle of something?’ He glances at the phone still in my hand.
I roll my eyes. ‘Weddings. Don’t ask. Text from Lydia. I thought you were in San Francisco?’
‘I will be in about fifteen minutes, if the helicopter’s on time. I had business here first. And hey, you wanted me to see a shrink. I’m with a whole crowd. Happy now?’ His sardonic look sends a tiny thrill through me.
I grin. ‘You know that’s not what I meant.’ It’s no time to push this so I blow him a kiss. He touches my hand briefly and then he’s gone.
I feel like a hurricane just flew through – and guiltier than ever.
Today I’m meeting Ryan.
* * *
After classes I drive home early, one eye on my watch. I meet Ryan at three. And after that maybe this nightmare will end.
Oddly, I sense something different about my ex. He seems wilder, more unpredictable. He should have stuck to teaching. Stress does weird things to people and he’s punching well above his weight.
When I finally make it to the beach he’s leaning on a rock, waiting.
‘Get it, El? Or did lover-boy outwit us with
an upgrade?’
I reel off the letters and numbers he asked for. He jots them down on his wrist, a slow smile of satisfaction stealing over his face.
‘Yup, just as I thought – nothing like mine.’ His glance is solemn. ‘Thanks for this, El. You don’t know what this means to me.’
As he turns away I block his path. ‘You’re forgetting something.’
‘I am? Oh, yeah, those photos.’ He grins again. ‘You’d better give me time to get my new system out. It’ll take a while.’
My blood chills. ‘But I want them now. You promised, Ryan.’
He sighs. ‘Look, El, you’re a nice kid, but be fair. This means a big outlay for me. I need an insurance policy just to make sure you don’t tell your doting fiancé all about our little deal. Like as not he’d get his old company to rush out a new product just to get even. I told you, we’ve got a deal. Once my product’s out you’ll get your pix. But you have to give me a few weeks, OK? Besides, things are a little hot for me here. I have to visit Mexico for a while. But you’ll get them, I promise. Shake on it.’
He gives me a disarming smile and holds out his hand. Like an idiot I take it.
Instantly he pulls me close. I try to fight him off, but he’s too strong.
He grips my arm like a vice. ‘Not so friendly these days, huh? Getting your kicks somewhere else?’ He snorts, his eyes cold. ‘Enjoy your psycho boyfriend while you can. He’ll soon move on, if his past’s any guide. I’ll get in touch about the pix. Be seeing you.’
He races up the beach, scales the overhang of the low cliff and disappears from sight. On the headland I hear a motorcycle rev up and then roar away into the distance.
Even Ryan uses one. What is it with motorcycles around here?
When he’s safely out of sight I lean into a flowing wavelet, scoop up a handful of salt water and splash it over my face, but it’s nowhere near enough to get the sour smell of Ryan Mitchell out of my system. As I make my way slowly back up the beach my phone signals. Not him again?
But this time it’s Darnley.
Can you make dinner tonight? Black tie.
He’s back already? My heart gives a leap as I text back. Sure. Where are we going?
You’re coming here. I sent Bullen to fetch you. Should be on the headland right about now.
The call cuts and at that moment there’s a roar over my head. I see the company helicopter settle like a giant white insect on the headland overlooking the house. Almost at once Bullen leaps out and calls down to me.
‘Has Mr Wolfe made contact, ma’am?’
I smile faintly and wave my phone at him. ‘I’ll just go pack. Do go indoors and get a coffee.’
He looks uneasy. ‘I’d sooner wait out here. We’re running a little late. We’ve orders to fly you back right away.’
I glance at the helicopter, the propeller still circling. As I watch it comes slowly to a halt. The pilot gives me a half wave but makes no move to join us.
I feel a spike of alarm. Is this some kind of emergency?
* * *
After thirty frantic minutes I’ve showered and changed into a slim skirt, slender boots and a coat. My overnight bag has only make-up, accessories and my scantiest lingerie. I find Bullen waiting out on the driveway and I hurry down to join him with a slinky evening gown zipped into a carrier and draped over one arm.
The flight downstate is a thrill – I’m still unused to taking helicopters everywhere. I gaze entranced at the spectacular view, with one of the world’s most beautiful coastal highways snaking away to our left and the broad blue of the Pacific on the right. Soon San Francisco sprawls into view, the Golden Gate Bridge gleaming softly through the light, sun-speckled mist coming off the sea. We head straight over the suburbs and land on the helipad roof of a luxury block somewhere at the heart of the city.
The hotel corridor is hushed and carpeted. I’m quickly shown into a vast, light-filled suite. Bullen takes my bag into some distant dressing room and discreetly leaves. As the door closes softly behind him I head over to the wide picture windows where a man is standing alone, his familiar silhouette outlined against the bright afternoon.
‘I’d just about given you up.’ Darnley turns to greet me with a cynical lift of his eyebrow and a glance at his watch.
As I flow into his arms he finds my mouth, his lips warm and lingering. ‘Mm, your hair smells of jasmine. Were you out on the boat when I called?’
Actually I’d just seen off Ryan. I fight down panic. I hate having secrets, especially about my past. His family’s got more than enough for both of us.
‘That was the plan. I was just about to, as a matter of fact.’ I try to sound light, but for a second he frowns.
‘What’s up? Did I tear you away from something important?’
I feel another spike of alarm, but he’s already unfastening my coat, his fingers swift and deft as my slim cashmere tailoring peels away. ‘Mm. Turn round.’
‘You’ve seen this before.’ I grin as I pirouette before him in my elegant, clinging skirt and top, bought in Manhattan with a sizable wedge of his plastic.
‘Not for long,’ he murmurs as he slips his hand under my thin sweater and finds my breast, his fingertips moving gently along the swell where my tingling skin disappears under the lacy edge of my bra.
‘I wonder why?’ I whisper, as he pulls the hem of my sweater up and signals I should raise my arms. ‘Could that be because you take them off nearly every time we meet?’
‘Maybe,’ he murmurs, his tone distracted as my sweater is hurled across the room. It lands on a chair. ‘Let’s lose these.’
My skirt is already around my feet and now my panties swiftly join it. With a low growl he finds my mouth and I leap into his arms and wind my legs around his waist. He holds me up, supporting my thighs, carries me over to the sofa and sets me down hard, then kneels and takes control of my eager mouth, presses my head back into the cushions and scoops out my breasts. Slowly he releases my lips and smiles down at me, his eyes narrowed. ‘Surprised?’
‘Very. Are we doing something special?’
‘Right now? It’s always special. Ah, you mean for dinner? Yes. And that’s a surprise too.’
He’s leaning over me, his mouth exploring me now, his tongue and his lips hot on my skin, sending slivers of electricity through me. He releases me from my confinement between his thighs and stretches out along the sofa, capturing my wrists as I wind my arms up around his neck.
‘Hey. No hands. My treat this time. And I want you on the floor.’
Before I know what’s happened we’re on the rug, my legs splayed wide and my hands trapped cruelly high over my head.
‘Move against me.’ His low murmur fills me with heat, the fire in his eyes sending excitement coursing through me. ‘Harder. Grind a little. Work me. I want to feel you strain.’
He shifts to ease his weight and eagerly I writhe against him, arching my hips to feel his shaft, glowing now as it strains against his fine tailoring. I tease him with lewd thrusts of my lower belly, my muscles rippling with hunger as I sense his growing urgency.
‘Raise yourself up on your elbows and lean back. I want your breasts.’ He pulls me up a little, his hands warm and firm around my rigid, quivering waist and flattened stomach as he curves over me. His soft, moistened lips and his eager, darting tongue soon spark more flames as he takes each breast in turn into his mouth and sucks mercilessly on my nipples, tormenting me with his teeth.
Soon my aureoles grow dark, almost aching as they swell and stiffen under his hot touch. My nipples tighten to numbness under his tongue, fuelling wave after wave of heat. Between my straining thighs his hot erection burns into me, its swelling outline pressing hard against me as he deliberately works to break down my resistance.
‘Now you can unfasten me. Take it slow.’
His low growl almost sends me over the edge. I quiver as he releases one hand, grinning as I writhe against him and tug at the other, desperate to feel him, to reach in an
d wrap my hands round his monster, feel its size and its heat, stroke him into frenzy like he’s stroking me.
‘Uh-uh. One hand at a time.’
So slowly, reverently, I start to release him. As I finger his flies I feel a surge of heat so explicit I almost come on the spot. He shifts away to give my fingers room to ease back his zipper and in seconds his erection is batting at my hand, straining and ridged.
With an impatient twitch he jerks it away. ‘Hey, easy. Open your legs.’
He recaptures my hands with his fist and now he feels my arched, quivering body with light, caressing fingers as he finds my mouth, his column poised tantalisingly over my stomach. I can almost feel its heat, sense its need.
All at once his tongue plunges into my mouth in a full-on invasion and at the same moment his eager shaft slips straight in. I melt into his kiss as he slowly withdraws, then plunges again with no break in contact, letting our hips do the talking while our mouths are fused.
He stays in position, thrusting into me in a double impalement as our pleasure builds and peaks and builds again, slow, measured, slave to his determined, controlling rhythm, until it finally overtakes us both.
* * *
Later we get ready for dinner. Earlier I was glowing with content. Now I’m newly excited. A surprise? What kind?
Black tie, in Darnley’s world, is always exciting so this must be something special. But as I join him in the suite’s central sitting room I see a familiar box open on the side – the bracelets.
I feel a surge of emotion as life suddenly shifts. So that’s what he wants … On my finger his ring seems to flash a warning, like it senses the closeness of its kinky – and far more costly – companions. I lift my chin and move up close. ‘Tonight?’
He lifts the bracelets out of their nest of satin, his dark look sending a tremor through me. ‘Hold out your wrists.’
He clamps them in place, his expression solemn.
For long seconds I hold his gaze, trying to work out how he wants this. The ritual follows a general pattern, but thrillingly there are always tiny variations.