by Liz Bradbury
She laughed, shaking her head, and kissed me. I hugged her and she firmly hugged me back.
“Are you trying to distract me?” I asked as I went to the refrigerator for olives and pickles.
“What do you mean?” she replied, putting crackers on two plates.
“You know what I mean. And I’m not sure stopping to eat is the right thing to do in the middle of this wonderful adventure.”
“Maggie...” The broiler bell chimed and Kathryn moved to take a small wheel of brie cheese encased in phyllo dough out of the oven. The flaky crust had turned a light brown and the cheese was bubbling warm.
“Jessie’s homemade strawberry jam is inside this,” said Kathryn.
“Are you nervous about what’s going to happen next? Is that why you’re having a hard time looking at me?” I asked.
She smiled, but there was a hint of something in her eyes that didn’t shout self confidence. I brought a bottle of wine, glasses, and corkscrew to the table. I opened the bottle, poured two glasses, put the bottle down and took up her hand in both of mine. I kissed her palm and then kissed the soft inside of her wrist.
I wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted me to do, and I might have been about to make a big mistake, but I took a breath and said softly, “You seem a little nervous and apprehensive about what we’re about to do next. So let me reassure you right now...” I let my voice become stronger. “I’m not letting you off the hook for a second, even if I have to pick you up and carry you back in there. And I can do it too.”
She sat back and blinked at me and then began to laugh that deep hearty laugh, just the kind Farrel had mentioned. It made me laugh too, but it also sent a vibration through me that recharged me from the ground up. I could barely wait to get her back to bed.
“Oh dear, what have I gotten myself into? I may need two glasses of wine,” she said.
“I think we should leave the snack until later. I’ll give in to the wine but just one glass. Then we’ll go back into the bedroom. I don’t want you to dull your senses. I promise you’ll enjoy it,” I said kissing her hand again.
“Uh huh,” she said dubiously.
“Let me remind you, Kathryn, this was your idea.”
“Be careful what you wish for?” she asked.
“Uh huh.”
As we drank the wine, Kathryn said, “Maggie, do you really think this whole issue is over? About Frankie, and Suzanne’s murders?”
I didn’t have to pause to consider this. “No, I don’t. There are too many things that don’t make sense.”
“What?”
“Well, why was Gabriel Carbondale so keen on cementing up the crypts?’
“Because he didn’t want anyone to find Suzanne’s body?”
“Well, maybe, but if he was so worried about it, why not just go down there and get rid of the body? He had plenty of time to think of a way.”
“I suppose, but when he got back from England he suddenly found out that Frankie was stealing from the studio, so Gabe shot Frankie and figured something had to be done to stop anyone else from going down there?”
I shook my head. “Even if he hired someone to kill Suzanne, why go down there to kill her, instead of just doing it at her house by making it look like a break-in or something?”
“Maybe they were afraid of Buster?” said Kathryn.
“Oh, right,” I laughed wryly. “Buster didn’t even know what a gun was until Gabe shot himself. Dogs have to be trained to attack people with guns. Suzanne had friends over all the time and Buster always loved company. I don’t think the issue was fear of Buster. I just don’t believe Gabe would kill her for money and then turn around and kill himself the second someone found out she was dead. He had an alibi.”
“So love then? Maybe Gabe wanted to marry someone else?”
“But who? There’s no one else around.”
“No one’s around Gabe. But there is someone who had love as a motive to kill Suzanne.”
“Yeah, I know who you mean,” I said. I said the name.
“That’s what I was thinking,” said Kathryn. “Are there any other suspects? Or... What if, what if Frankie killed Suzanne?”
“Yeah, I’ve considered that. It could have gone like this: Frankie is stealing the stuff. Suzanne surprises him, he pushes her and she’s knocked out, then he tries to hide the body. He sees she’s still alive, he panics, and stabs her. But then, who killed Frankie? I don’t care what anyone says, Gabe didn’t have a gun, and Red said the shooter was in the crypt. And why was only one of the boxes of Victoria’s stuff open if that was Gabe’s motive? And how did those boxes of Victoria’s things even get in her studio?” I said, tapping my fingers on the table. “Why weren’t those boxes in her house when she died. Do you suppose the people whom she left her trust money to moved the boxes? How? When? For that matter, I just don’t see how Victoria even got to her studio to work. Every time she went there she had to go into the cemetery through the crypt? Pretty unlikely.”
“Maggie, you just leapt back in time more than 100 years. It’s not like they’re the same mystery.”
“I keep feeling like they are,” I insisted.
“Maybe I can get some answers from the second journal,” said Kathryn. “I’ve only had a chance to read a quarter of it. I tried to skim the rest but her handwriting is much smaller after Evangeline died. Shall we read the journal? We could look at it now.”
“Absolutely not. You’re not standing me up,” I said, pushing back my chair. It’s time for act two.” I reached out my hand and led her back to the bedroom.
“I thought you said you’d carry me,” she said with a half-smile.
Before she could react I caught her up in my arms and tossed her onto the bed. We were both laughing but got quieter as we began kissing. I moved on top of her, softly touching her lips with my tongue. She had both her hands on my shoulders responding in a wonderful way to each kiss. I slowly reached for her wrists and held them up over her head, allowing my full weight to pin her to the bed. She made a gentle sigh of resignation underscored by that hot feline hum she made when she was excited.
This episode in our lives together was symbolic and we both knew it. I had given total control to Kathryn and with that comes complete trust. She readied to give up total control to me; implicit in that was her total trust.
So now I was on. I undid the velcro cuffs from the straps, slipped her wrists into them and clipped her wrists together. Then I threaded one of the straps through the slats of the headboard so her hands were securely fastened above her head. I slipped down her body and used the other cuffs to bind her ankles together. I knelt on the bed, looking down at her.
“You look just like a medieval damsel in distress,” I said suggestively, putting a pillow under her head so she could watch.
“Are you the good knight who saves me, or the evil sorceress who ravishes me?” she whispered.
“Definitely the sorceress and probably evil, but I’m not sure about ravish... Let’s say the evil sorceress who offers you pleasures beyond your imagination, though I have a feeling you’ve been imagining this for a long time,” I smirked.
I ran my hands over the satiny material stretched over her lovely body. I played with her nipples through the fabric, running my thumbs across them until they peaked and hardened against the silk. She was feeling the same ache I’d felt at the beginning of her efforts on me, but she was getting relief by rubbing her legs together. I didn’t think that was fair.
So I began to slowly lift her hem. Sliding it up her legs, feeling her soft skin underneath. When I’d raised it to the top of her thighs, I stroked down her legs and lightly touched the sensitive soles of her feet. She squirmed deliciously.
“I know we’ve done this already tonight, but I’m not sure we really finished. I think it would be best without your clothes though. You’ll enjoy it more. That’s part of your fantasy, isn’t it?” She didn’t speak. She had her eyes closed but a slight smile curved her lips. So I lifted
the gown above her waist, exposing her hips. I pushed the fabric past her breasts and shoulders, over her head and up to her bound hands, uncovering her completely.
“Don’t you look lovely and aren’t we going to have fun?” I said, appreciating her beautiful body stretched out before me.
I trailed my fingertips back down to her feet. Then I seized up the paint brush and held her ankles firmly to the bed while I lightly tickled her right sole. She stiffened, trying valiantly to resist giving over to uncontrolled sensation. I stroked firmly, observing the layers of resistance falling away. I brushed her harder and she squirmed involuntarily, so I held her in place and tickled her until she was shrieking.
As soon as she said, “Stop!” I did immediately. I really didn’t want her to be afraid or feel powerless. I wanted her to trust me.
“Do you really want me to stop?” I asked. “I’m going to give you a safeword. Or maybe a phrase, and all you’ll have to do to make me stop is say it.” I whispered a string of four letter words that would yank a cable FCC license.
“I can’t say that,” she laughed, still out of breath.
“That’s what I’m counting on, but it’s the only thing that will make me stop.” I said it again. “Say it and I’ll stop and let you go right away. But if you do, then you’ll have to miss out on the hours of pleasure I have planned for you. Understand?”
“Oh dear.”
“I’ll take that to mean you understand.”
I tickled her again for just a minute or two. She twisted and begged, “No, no please stop.”
I eased for a second but didn’t stop completely. Lightly running the tip of my finger along her sole. Her body flushed pink and her nipples became impossibly erect.
“Now let’s do some exploring. By the way, begging for mercy might work so you can always try that, but I may not yield. Might just encourage me to work you harder. Just saying...”
“Mercy,” she laughed. “Tell me your plan,” she said in a soft voice.
“I’m going to figure out what you want. And then I’m going to do it to you, and probably quite a bit more.”
“Is this all part of your interrogation technique?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact it is. I think you’ll especially enjoy the thorough searches,” I teased. I hooked the ankle cuffs to the corner straps again, then pulled on the straps slowly.
“Oh!” She shifted, as I opened her legs wide.
“This is going to be very exciting. Relax. Now, I’m in charge,” I said slowly. She made an amused noise and stared at me with darkening eyes.
I looked at the glistening dark red hair between her legs, then reached and lightly touched her there. This tickled her too. She tried in vain to pull away, but she unconsciously nodded her head.
I stroked her and she arched in the restraints immediately, trying to press against my fingers in search of relief. I gave in to her in exactly the place that would make her climax, and she did immediately, groaning in evident release until she fell back against the pillow.
“This is fun, isn’t it?” I said provocatively. She nodded, watching to see what was next.
Of course this wasn’t the first time I’d made love to Kathryn. We’d had a number of wild nights and she’d shown me how to satisfy her. But now I wanted her to reveal things to me she hadn’t ever told anyone else. Time to go where no one had gone before.
The bondage made everything so much more intense. She climaxed harder each time as I extended the sessions a little longer, not letting her relax in between.
After three strong orgasms one right after another, she pleaded between deep breaths, “I don’t think I can do it again.”
“Oh don’t be silly, of course you can. Those were all just foreplay.”
I got a hand towel from the bathroom. Then I took a bottle of massage oil from the drawer by the bed and poured an ample puddle of it in my hands. I rubbed it slowly over her hips, stomach, and breasts. I concentrated
on her breasts for a long time. I rubbed up her arms, along her shoulders, down her thighs to her knees and savored each touch, watching her face carefully to detect which areas were most sensitive. She had her eyes closed. She breathed deeply, and still had the pleased smile.
I leaned to suck her nipple to hardness as I stroked her stomach. She convulsed, trying in vain to move her hands and legs. She was ticklish there. Maybe more than her feet. Panic briefly showed in her face.
“Ah,” I said, “here’s another one of your not-so-secret places.”
“No, no... Oh!” she inhaled sharply. I licked her stomach. The tickling made her thrash around, I could tell by the tautness of her body that she was ready again. I bit her gently just below the navel and she cried out, not from pain, but from sensation.
“When you start to come, strain against the cuffs; it will heighten the moment.” I placed the palms of my hands against her inner thighs and gently pressed her open just a little bit more. I used my thumbs to stimulate her. Then I began to slowly penetrate her, first with one finger, then two.
“Do you like this?”
She gasped out a surprising four-letter demand. “More.”
“Finally a gratifying response to one of my questions.” I added another finger and felt inside her, moving slowly. She moaned and began to lift her hips rhythmically. She was impossibly wet. She tried to move against me, pushing me into her. With my other hand, I reached to the left and pulled the ankle strap just a little tighter. When I did it on the right side, she groaned in magnificent pleasure.
I pressed into her, slipping my hand back and forth rhythmically. I leaned to her again, this time drawing her clitoris between my lips as I teased the tip of it with my tongue. She began to strain against the tightened bonds. Every muscle of her body tensed. She was feeling the surge build. Sensation gathered in her like dark clouds before a storm. Her body became rigid with anticipation. Then suddenly she arched, lifting her body and me from the bed in one intense rush of pleasure that stiffened her every muscle. I rode the wave with her as it reached the perfect moment of pure satisfaction. She came harder this time, differently. She yielded a series of yeses in a primal voice that surprised her as much as me. When she relaxed, her face took on a sublime expression.
“You look mighty smug.”
She smiled broadly at this. I undid the ankle cuffs and she drew her legs in. I helped her, massaging her thighs and calves as I brought her legs together.
“Undo my hands?” She flexed her fingers and moved her head to glance at her arms still held tightly above her head.
“Not yet,” I said in a voice that wouldn’t tolerate dissent. “We have more to do.”
She shook her head just a little.
Now I was the one with the predatory smile. I said, “Yes, Kathryn, remember, I’m in charge.” Putting one hand under her thigh and one under her shoulder, I turned her over on her stomach.
Her breath quickened and she moved her head to see me. “Really... I can’t.”
“Let’s see what you can do, querida.”
I ran my fingers lightly over her skin, waking all the nerve endings, stirring her desire, rekindling her flames. “You have a great ass, Kathryn. In fact, your whole body is stunning.” I lifted her to slip a large pillow under her hips, raising her for more access.
The little devil on my shoulder was cheering me on. I slipped my forefinger along her tailbone and massaged it slowly. She stretched involuntarily, an erotic sex stretch that left her legs farther apart. I took this as an unconscious invitation.
I stroked from the nape of her neck to her tailbone. After a nice long caress, I slipped the oily fingers of my left hand around and over the sensitive spot. Then I reached up and undid her wrist cuffs.
“I don’t think I... I’ve never...”
“Shhh,” I insisted. “Nothing to be nervous about. You’ve liked everything up until now haven’t you?”
“Yes, yes, everything... but...”
“I’m going to show you a m
agic trick, Kathryn, that I really hope you haven’t seen before.” I rubbed down her back again, then began to massage her thigh with my left hand.
“Open up,” I whispered. She squirmed and groaned and opened her legs further as I pressed my knees against them. The pleasure in her voice was evident. I wondered for a moment if I should get my rather powerful vibrator from the closet and make her have a very long continuous orgasm. She was just in the right mood for something like that, but then she was in the right mood for my original plan, too. I’d use the vibrator some other time... soon.
“Maggie,” she said, “is this going to hurt?”
“When I’m done with you, I doubt you’ll describe this as hurting. Now relax and don’t hold back.”
I repositioned so I could reach her clitoris with my right hand. I stroked with my thumb to arouse her while I put the towel in place, and then penetrated her vagina again with my forefinger.
I searched both inside and out at the same time with my right hand, while I teased and massaged the tighter opening very gently with my left. I could see her biting the pillow in anticipation.
Inside her, I made a few small firm circles, finding her spot. Kathryn gasped. Then suddenly she felt a lightning bolt arc to my thumb. She literally roared with release as I continued. Bucking and twisting she called out again and again. She pounded the bed with her fists. I didn’t ease up until she finally let go, calling my name, wetting the towel. Then she froze, holding the highest moment of ecstasy inside her and with a deep primal cry into the pillow she peaked and then collapsed back on the bed.
She was taking very long breaths. Her face was totally flushed. She was damp with sweat and staring at me in disbelief.
I drew her legs together, rubbing them sweetly and making soothing noises as she regained her power of speech. I helped her turn to her side and she caught my arm and pulled me close.
My mind was already reeling with pleasurable things we could do together. I filed them away for next time and kissed her neck as she luxuriated in sexual afterglow.
“Are you OK?”
“More than fine.” She turned and put her arms around me. “You’re the greatest detective of all time. I can’t quite remember what you did, but I have the urge to spout cliches. For example: I didn’t know it could be like that.”