The Pleasures of Winter

by Evie Hunter

  She held on to his hips until he stopped trembling. All she could hear in the room was the sound of his harsh breathing. Jack lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed, lying back so that she was sprawled on top of him.

  Abbie smiled, pleased with herself. That had been astonishing, reducing Jack to pleas and moans. Then she spotted the rack of crops and remembered. This was only a truce. She was in Jack’s playroom and she was still due a punishment.

  She dropped her head against his chest and listened as the thudding of his heart returned to normal.

  ‘I do believe you have hidden talents, Ms Marshall,’ Jack said.

  She lifted her head and saw the satisfied expression on his face.

  ‘You think so?’

  Jack dropped a light kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘Mmmm, but they won’t distract me from punishing you.’

  Ah, they were back to punishment again. Jack had a collection of whips that would impress a saddlery store. He couldn’t possibly think of using them on her. She had to work and her job involved sitting down. On an actual chair, not a pile of cushions. The other reporters would give her hell if they even suspected what she had been up to.

  Jack sat up, taking her with him. He led her across the room to what looked like an antique prie-dieu with a red velvet kneeler.

  ‘Another purchase from the Madam’s house?’

  Jack grinned. ‘Why don’t you try it out?’

  With a little shiver of excitement, Abbie knelt down and leaned over the top. The red velvet cushioned her breasts and she rested her chin on the edge. From a small drawer built into the base, Jack produced two lengths of silken rope and looped them around her wrists, then looped the end around the rope, holding her securely so that she could only move a few inches. He was really going to do this.

  ‘Nervous, Abbie?’

  ‘No,’ she said defiantly, trying to sound braver than she felt.

  ‘I can fix that.’

  She turned her head, the one thing that could still move, to see Jack picking up a white cloth. He folded it and put it over her eyes. The smell of hemp, strong and exotic, overwhelmed her, masking Jack’s distinctive scent.

  Abbie wriggled. Without her vision, the world changed. She was deeply aware of Jack’s closeness, the sound of his breathing, the touch of his hands. He was still dressed and she felt his shirt all along her back when he leaned over to check her bonds. The velvet of the little bench cushioned her skin.

  ‘Did you have to do that?’ She hoped that holding a conversation would make this feel normal, but even her voice had changed. Or had it always been that husky before?

  Jack laughed in response. ‘Some people like it. They say it increases the anticipation. What’s the nasty Dom going to do now? Will he use the crop, the whip or the flail? Or perhaps you’d like to make the acquaintance of a paddle?’

  Abbie stayed silent. She had seen the size of the paddle and it looked as if it would really hurt.

  ‘Or maybe you’d just prefer my hand.’

  A sharp swat landed on her butt and she squealed. ‘Fuck!’ She had forgotten how much it stung.

  Jack laughed. ‘Fuck is not a safe word, you know.’

  Three more followed, interspersed with caresses. Abbie squealed each time. The next smacks were harder and she tried not to cry out. Holding her breath, trying to anticipate where each stroke would land.

  His hand rested on her inflamed skin. His touch was soothing. ‘OK so far?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. She wasn’t sure how comfortable she was being restrained but there was something about surrendering control that was turning her on.

  ‘Good, I’m just getting warmed up.’

  Jack’s voice sounded further away. Abbie twisted her head round, trying to gauge where he had gone. The dull sound of wood on flesh gave her goosebumps. He had the paddle.

  The next blow wasn’t as sharp as his hand but the sting was deeper, hotter. She groaned with each blow and gave herself up to them. Her breath came in short gasps as the paddle hit her flesh, striking sparks into her skin. She wriggled, trying to control where the blows landed. Through the pain, the stirrings of arousal bloomed low in her abdomen.

  ‘Like that, do you?’ Jack spoke against her ear. She hadn’t heard him move. He knelt down behind her, his knees bracketing hers. His heat overwhelmed her and she felt his erection pressing into her hot buttocks. He stroked her hair. ‘Good girl, I’ve got something nice for you next. You’ll like this.’

  He moved away again and resumed spanking her. Abbie was dizzy. She had lost count of the smacks and was consumed by the ache between her thighs. She wriggled her hips again and was rewarded with a cool hand against her skin.

  ‘Hush, Abbie. Soon, I promise you.’

  A row of butterflies landed on her back and Abbie jerked. Well, maybe not quite butterflies. They stung a little, but not as much as the paddle. The soft tips caressed her calves and back, avoiding her inflamed butt. It almost felt relaxing. She must be crazy: she couldn’t actually be enjoying this. She was panting and she felt heady, as if her body belonged to someone else.

  ‘Good girl.’ She smiled at his praise.

  He moved away from her and she heard the rasp of a zipper. The tip of his cock nudged against her aching centre and he drove into her in one slick stroke. Pleasure and pain mingled together and she cried out. She couldn’t take much more of this.

  On his next thrust she almost lost her mind. ‘Please, more, harder.’

  She couldn’t believe the hoarse voice was hers. Short, hard thrusts pushed him further into her, inflaming her. Each stroke touched something deep inside her. It was like being prodded with an electric goad, so intense she had no control of her body. With one hand in her hair and the other clamped on her hip, he drove her on. She had never felt so restrained, or so free.

  Her inner muscles clamped around his pumping shaft. Her world was reduced to the smell of sex and Jack’s body overwhelming hers. Abbie cried out again, desperate to come.

  ‘Not yet, Abbie. Not yet. Almost there.’ Jack’s thrusts became more frantic. She welcomed the pain as it pushed her over the bright edge into ecstasy and shuddering into blessed darkness.

  She was aware of his weight pressing on her back. His ragged breath against the damp skin of her neck. Soft, soothing words against her hair. She was his: his best girl, his love.

  Jack untied the bindings on her wrists and kissed her hands, before lifting her in his arms and carrying her to the bed. She rested her face against his damp chest and listened to the thudding of his heart.

  ‘You are amazing, Abbie. Fucking amazing.’

  She didn’t feel very amazing. Every inch of her body sang with ecstasy or pain and she couldn’t seem to string two coherent words together. After a while, Jack rolled off the bed and returned with a glass of cool water. He helped her sit up and pressed it against her lips. ‘Drink now.’ She did, then yawned and closed her eyes.

  When she woke, Jack was watching her. He ran his index finger along her jaw. ‘You’re so beautiful.’

  Abbie snorted. ‘I know what the mirror tells me, Jack, and beautiful doesn’t come into it.’

  ‘Hey, you’re natural. There’s not a thing false about you. No Botox, no hair extensions.’ His hand strayed to cup her breast. ‘And these are natural too.’

  ‘There’s a little too much of them.’

  Jack’s face changed, became stern. ‘What did I tell you about being self-critical?’ He flipped her over on to her stomach and landed half a dozen sharp swats on her abused rear end.

  ‘Ow!’ She pushed herself up and glared at him. ‘What the hell was that?’

  ‘It’s what you can expect any time I hear you running yourself down.’

  Abbie’s stomach rumbled loudly.

  ‘When was the last time you ate?’

  She had almost forgotten that the whole food thing was high up on his list of rules. Abbie tried to be evasive. ‘Sometime yesterday. I can’t remember.’
r />   Jack frowned. ‘What’s your favourite food? And please don’t tell me salad.’

  ‘Ice cream,’ she announced.

  ‘OK, ice cream it is. Wear something warm. We’re taking the bike.’

  The bike turned out to be a Harley. Abbie eyed it dubiously. She preferred something with four wheels. It looked dangerous. She had to admit, though, that the bike didn’t look quite as dangerous as Jack Winter in jeans, a dark T-shirt and a scuffed leather jacket. He was positively edible.

  He put on a pair of sunglasses, handed her a helmet and smiled. ‘Your chariot awaits.’

  Her ass still stung from earlier and she wasn’t sure how she would fare on a long bike ride. It had been difficult enough to put her jeans on. She climbed on to the bike behind him. The leather seat cushioned her butt. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. He revved the engine and they took off down the drive and out through the gates on to the street.

  Abbie held on to Jack’s solid body as he sped along the highway, weaving between the traffic. She hated to admit it, but he was a good driver and it wasn’t long before they reached Pasadena.

  Abbie followed Jack into a small ice cream parlour. The interior was cool, with pale yellow walls. Jack took off his sunglasses and perused the menu. ‘So, what will it be?’

  Abbie stared at the list, bewildered by the array of exotic flavours. Blueberry and thyme, spiced strawberry with balsamic vinegar, cucumber sorbet. There were too many choices. ‘How about a Guinness ice cream?’ she suggested.

  ‘Nah, I’ve tasted that one already. I always like to try something different.’

  ‘Honey and lavender?’

  Jack gave her a dark look. ‘I’m not a lavender kind of guy, or hadn’t you noticed? Maybe I should take you back to the playroom and refresh your memory.’

  Abbie shifted in her seat. ‘No, thank you. My ass remembers just fine.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear that. Now, for you, I’d recommend the vanilla bean and brown sugar.’

  ‘Vanilla?’ She pulled a face. Despite their earlier encounter, was she still too vanilla for Jack?

  He leaned across the table and took her hand. ‘Hey, I happen to like vanilla. Maybe we can get some to take out and I can lick it off your breasts.’

  Abbie looked around her, hoping that no one had heard him.

  He gave her an unabashed smile. ‘If you don’t want vanilla, how about some Phish Food? You know, sex on the beach? I’d really like to see you naked, rolling around in the surf.’ Jack was shameless and he didn’t care who was listening.

  She flushed, trying to ignore the stares coming from the couple at the next table. ‘I think there might be a law against that. Besides, you might have underestimated me. Maybe I’m really into Rocky Road.’

  ‘Rocky Road, huh?’ Jack didn’t look convinced. ‘A lot of people don’t understand Rocky Road. They think it’s all about the hard bits, but it’s not. The marshmallow plays a very important part.’

  ‘I do? I mean, it does?’

  ‘Sure.’ Jack stroked her hand, tracing a path along each finger in turn, kneading gently at the tender skin between each joint. ‘When the nuts and the marshmallow get mixed up with the chocolate, they don’t know where they’re going to end up. They have to trust each other. Rocky Road needs huge dollops of respect, trust and emotion from both sides. But if it works out, well, it can be pretty spectacular.’

  In a roundabout way, this was the most personal conversation they had had about their relationship. Abbie had to ask the question that had been plaguing her. ‘So, how do you feel about sharing some Rocky Road? With me, I mean.’

  Abbie held her breath, waiting for his reply.

  ‘I think I’d like that.’ Jack lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it in a gesture that was somehow more intimate than anything else they had done that day. His gaze was hot, almost predatory, and she shivered, wondering just how rocky the road would become in a relationship with him.

  He flashed her a smile, the one that never failed to take her breath away. The waitress came to take their order and Jack ignored her ‘don’t I know you from somewhere’ stare. He ordered two Rocky Roads and they ate them in silence. Even though they were eating the same ice cream, Jack insisted on feeding her some of his. She didn’t understand why, but it tasted better off his spoon.

  Afterwards, he draped his arm around her shoulders as they walked back to the bike. He gave her a tender kiss before putting her helmet on. When Jack was like this, she felt cherished, as if she were valuable and worthy of protection. His attentiveness was comforting and a little unnerving. She was still uncertain what she had done to earn it or how long it would last.

  ‘Hey, no more sad faces. I have a surprise for you.’

  She couldn’t wait.

  27

  Abbie was reading the papers when Jack came into the lounge. He had a grin on his face and was up to something.

  ‘What are you up to? I don’t trust you when you look so happy. That angelic smile is misleading.’

  His smile widened. ‘Angelic? Me?’ He swooped down and gave her a quick kiss. ‘You must be confused. I’m pure devil. But in this case, I have nothing evil planned. I thought you would like this.’ He handed over two tickets.

  Abbie read them twice before she believed it. Romeo and Juliet. Jack was taking her to a play. She squealed and threw herself at him. ‘You’re taking me to the theatre? That’s fabulous.’

  He tightened his arms around her. ‘I promised you a date, didn’t I? An evening at the theatre should count as a proper date.’

  She gave him a severe look. ‘You have a lot to make up for, after that performance in the ice cream place. I didn’t know where to look.’

  ‘As if I could forget. You blush like an angel when you are embarrassed. Or aroused. Which reminds me … have you any marks from yesterday?’

  Abbie’s face heated up. She had planned to check in the mirror, but when she woke up cuddled against him that morning, Jack had made such sweet love to her that it had brought tears to her eyes. She didn’t understand how he could go from being the aggressive Dom who pushed her limits to such a tender lover, but she was addicted to him. Jack Winter had become her obsession. Not that she would ever tell him that.

  ‘No, I’m fine.’

  ‘Show me.’

  Her eyes widened. ‘What?’

  Now he was pure Dom. ‘Show me. I want to see for myself.’

  Abbie gazed at him, disconcerted, but he wouldn’t yield. This wasn’t the playroom. This was late afternoon in a lounge that opened out on to his swimming pool; there were other people in the house – the housekeeper, a gardener, Jack’s assistant – anyone might pass by. But Jack’s gaze was a challenge as well as a command. ‘Oh, very well,’ she muttered ungraciously. She turned her back to him, flipped up her skirt and revealed a pair of skimpy blue panties.

  He moved in close and, ignoring her squawk of protest, pulled them down and ran his hands over her ass. Against her will, her breathing speeded up and she trembled. She couldn’t control or hide her reaction to him.

  ‘You’re a bit pink, and here.’ He pressed a spot at the join between thigh and buttock; the sensation made her hiss. ‘You’re going to be tender. But I don’t think you’ll bruise.’

  His finger slipped down between her lips and teased her, gliding along the delicate folds and flicking against her clit. She twitched and jumped. God, that man had fingers that should be registered as lethal weapons. She was so exposed but she couldn’t move away from those hypnotic fingers. ‘Mmm, you’re wet for me,’ he murmured. She shifted, opening herself more fully to him, begging without words for him to increase the pressure. Until he finished by trailing his damp fingers between her cheeks. That made her jump and squeal in protest. He gave her a light smack on her bottom. ‘Go and get dressed. You can’t go to the theatre like that.’

  She stared at him, incredulous. ‘You’re going to let me get dressed? Panties and all?’

  He preten
ded to consider. ‘Yes, panties and all. Don’t want you to be embarrassed if a breeze blows your skirt up.’

  ‘I could wear trousers.’ Even now, she couldn’t resist teasing him. Bratting, he called it.

  ‘To Shakespeare? I’m shocked at the idea.’

  An hour later, she was ready to go, dressed in her favourite silk wrap dress. It was two years old, but comfortable and flattering. She carried a light trench coat – even in LA it got cool in the evening.

  ‘You look gorgeous. I want to do all sorts of decadent things to you,’ Jack told her. ‘Now, pull your panties down and bend over. I have a gift for you.’

  ‘You’re kidding. You’re not really going to do more kinky stuff to me, are you?’ But she couldn’t hide the flicker of interest and anticipation.

  ‘Of course I am. You’d be disappointed if I didn’t.’ He held something up.

  Abbie looked at it with curiosity. It looked like a small blue dildo, less than three inches long and quite thin. ‘This isn’t too bad.’ It didn’t look threatening.

  ‘It’s not.’ He eased her over the back of his overstuffed couch. It was the perfect height for this. She wondered if he had chosen it deliberately. With her head down, she couldn’t see what he was doing, but wasn’t surprised to feel her panties being tugged down to mid-thigh. She grinned. Jack had a fixation with her ass.

  She was sure she would be going to the theatre with a warm backside. But no smacks landed. She twisted round to see what he was doing and saw Jack coating the little dildo with lube.

  ‘What are you –?’ Her eyes widened as comprehension hit. ‘Oh no, no, you are not doing that.’

  His large hand held her in place.

  ‘Too late,’ he told her, and pushed it in. The cold of the lube hit her first, then the sensation of something alien sliding into her butt, where she hadn’t been expecting anything. She wriggled and squealed but was helpless to prevent him.

  ‘You bastard. You –’ She cursed until he put his finger over her lips and clicked his tongue.

  ‘Language.’ She glared at him, but let him pull up her panties and help her stand. That small movement made the little dildo shift and move. ‘How does that feel?’