by J. A. Kerr
The central pulse delivered new pleasures never before experienced as it pushed upwards again and again. Siena’s thighs gripped him as she absorbed each powerful thrust; their mouths locked together, their tongues entwined as their bodies suddenly shuddered and sagged. It was several more minutes before Siena located the button and shut off the chair. They stared at each other in wonder, Benedict’s hands slowly tracing along Siena’s skin before cupping her breast. Her gasp of pleasure ignited him once more. He brought his lips to her nipples, licking, teasing, and sucking the hardened buds as she bucked and moaned in response. They collapsed onto the floor and his mouth claimed her once more, their kisses savage and primal.
“I want you…marry me?” he whispered, his need for her making his arms shake as he held himself above her, looking directly into her eyes and her heart.
She melted; there was only one answer.
“Yes,” she sighed.
He entered her and her body arched in pleasure, all coherent thought gone as their bodies joined explosively.
Chapter 29
The Braille Club, London, One Year On: The Stoicum Zone would be launched later that night. It has been Guy’s project from conception to implementation. With both Benedict and Siena expressing their doubts, only his own belief gave him the courage to continue. His reward would be an unprecedented demand by Elysian members. They couldn’t get enough of this new…darker zone.
London 2014
Ford
Esme was Ford’s first thought as he opened his eyes. He lay in bed, his mind running over the events of last night before he got up and showered. He felt a bit delicate after the mini bar challenge but knew a cooked breakfast would go a long way to curing him. What a night. He reached over and picked up his phone.
Ford: U up?
Esme: Aye.
Ford: Brekkie?
Esme: Where?
Ford: Downstairs, I’m staying in your hotel, you’ve got 10 minutes.
Leaving his room he felt his phone buzz again and her reply made him smile.
Esme: Already downstairs, I’m starving, you’ve got 5 minutes!
Ford felt his stomach tighten as he neared the restaurant. He realised he was nervous about seeing Esme. Had she reacted to the game they had played or had she reacted to him? He wished it was the latter but his mind was full of doubts. Esme had confessed she was gay, and the truth cut like a knife. He saw her and his heart leapt, which was a bad sign. He gave her a strained smile.
“You look like shit, Ford, you’re such a lightweight.” Esme grinned.
In contrast, she looked the picture of health and Ford couldn’t help but laugh. Esme could drink anyone under the table.
“Those hollow legs of yours. Like weapons of mass destruction, Es, no mini bar is safe with you around,” he said.
“True, you have much to learn,” she said solemnly.
“Yes, master,” he replied in deference.
A waiter appeared, interrupting their conversation, and they both busied themselves with getting coffee and breakfast but shared the same table. Ford wasn’t surprised when Esme came back with a full plate. She would always eat like a horse after a boozy night.
“See you’re watching your figure,” he replied dryly as she shovelled a full Scottish breakfast into her mouth.
“Got to keep my strength up,” she sighed dramatically.
He hoped to avoid the subject of last night but Esme had other ideas.
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Where did you learn that routine last night?” she asked, her voice suddenly serious.
“Can’t tell you, Esme. I’d like to, but I’m sworn to secrecy,” said Ford, equally serious.
“I see,” said Esme. “Why don’t you show me then?”
Their gaze met and Ford saw the challenge in her eyes and heard the familiar edge to her voice. His heart was doing strange things within his chest. He tried to remain calm.
“Well?” she demanded.
“Es, we’d had a lot to drink last night…”
She interrupted. “Yes or no?” she demanded.
Ford’s heart hammered as hope soared inside him. He knew he should crush that feeling but found himself saying yes.
“Good,” said Esme, standing. “Right. I’ll see you later, I’ve got to get to the home to see Mum.”
“What time are you back?” said Ford, annoyed with himself. He didn’t want her to leave. She’d only been back in his life for one day and she was causing chaos with his emotions.
She considered his question. “I’ll stay there all day; probably make it back to the hotel about sixish.”
He nodded. “Do you want to have dinner?”
Esme looked surprised. “It’s not a date, Ford; it’s purely for…research purposes,” she finished lamely, sensing she had offended him.
Ford’s face hid his disappointment as he replied, “Of course it’s not a date, don’t flatter yourself.”
They both laughed, but it was forced as they parted, each preoccupied with their own thoughts. Ford remained at the table wondering why he had agreed to see Esme later. What was the point, she obviously wasn’t attracted to him. For Ford, the wait had been torture, even with the visit to his parents as a distraction. Esme had sent him a text to meet her at the bar at 7:00 p.m. He booked the restaurant for 8:00, to give them time for a drink and travel. He was uncharacteristically nervous as he sipped his cold beer, frequently checking the doorway for Esme. As if he could have missed her. She strode confidently into the room. Her short dark hair swept across her face in soft waves, the effect feminine and sexy. The stunning black dress hugged her body revealing sharp collarbones, toned arms, and the hint of cleavage. Her legs ended in elegant high heels. Ford just stared at her, completely blown away.
“What’s a girl got to do to get a drink around here,” said Esme sarcastically. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare?” she pointed out.
Esme was dressed to kill and when Ford met her eyes, they sparkled with mischief. He had been regretting his actions of last night. Although Guy had given permission for preliminary talks with Esme, he had been unprofessional, using the game to entice her. Now he had no idea where he stood. Did Esme like him? All he knew was she wanted more details on the Braille Club; well, who wouldn’t?
“What can I get you?” he asked hastily.
“Large glass of Pinot Grigio,” she replied.
“Well, that’s some LBD, do you always travel so well prepared?”
Esme hesitated before replying. “I bought it today after I left Mum; I had nothing suitable to wear tonight,” she confessed. “Where are we dining, you didn’t say?”
“I’ve booked Rogano,” replied Ford, giving her the large chilled wine.
“Swanky, are you hoping to impress me?”
“A little,” Ford admitted.
Rogano, with its art deco interior, was the oldest surviving restaurant in Glasgow. It specialised in seafood and had enjoyed many famous patrons through its doors.
“I have a business opportunity for you if you’re interested, but it would involve confidentiality agreements,” said Ford.
“Is it connected to last night?” asked Esme.
Ford nodded and looked uncomfortable. “Before I could tell you anything further you would need to sign these,” said Ford, pulling out the agreements he had printed out earlier.
“Let’s get a table,” Esme suggested, taking the papers from him. She sipped her wine and read.
“There’s no rush to sign them, Esme, take your time,” said Ford.
“Are you mad?” she retorted. “The suspense is killing me. I trust you, Ford. If you say it’s okay, then I’m in.”
Ford handed her a pen and she signed the paperwork quickly. He looked at his watch, the taxi would be here shortly.
“Better drink up. We’ll be leaving here soon.”
Amused, Esme looked at her empty glass ruefully.
“All this secrecy is thirsty work,” she replied.
>
Ford shook his head, smiling, intending to get Esme another, when he felt his phone buzz with a text. He quickly checked his phone. Their taxi had arrived.
He stood and slipped the paperwork into his jacket. Esme followed his lead and after a short journey they were soon seated in the restaurant. The night passed quickly, Ford insisting they enjoy their food with no more shop talk, but Esme would not let the subject go.
She fixed her gaze on Ford and smiled. “Start at the beginning and tell me everything…and I mean everything,” she insisted.
Feeling self-conscious, Ford told of the email from Guy and their subsequent meeting. He told her about Benedict and Siena and the principal behind the Braille Club.
“This is fascinating, Ford, are you sure you’re not making this up?” she asked sceptically.
He felt around in his pocket and pulled out the Braille membership card.
“What’s this then, Scotch’s mist?” he retorted.
Esme lifted the card and examined it closely. “What are these dots?”
“All card details are printed in Braille, the concept of the club is about touch and engaging the senses.”
Esme ran her fingers over the dots thoughtfully. “What does it say?” she asked.
“It’s a membership number.”
“Oh, and this?” Her fingers were pulling at the ribbon until Ford put his hand over hers.
“Not here, Esme, later,” he said.
“Do you promise?” she breathed.
Ford, unable to speak, merely nodded. He wanted to ask Esme how she felt about him but didn’t have the courage. He would know soon enough, one way or the other. The food and wine had been excellent and as he sipped his espresso, he knew it was time to leave. His heart lurched at the thought of what lay ahead.
“Do you fancy a drink elsewhere?” he asked hopefully.
Esme turned, her eyes intense. “No, let’s get a drink at the hotel. You can tell me more about your work at the Braille Club and where I fit in,” she said.
Ford signed to the waiter to bring their bill and to call a taxi. By the time they had done that and put their jackets on, it was waiting for them outside. He suddenly felt tense, his nerves returning as they travelled back to the hotel. Esme was in great spirits and didn’t seem to notice how quiet he had become.
The bar in the hotel was still open and Esme ordered a bottle of champagne.
“Let’s celebrate. This will be a very interesting project by all accounts,” she mused.
Ford said nothing as the waiter poured the champagne into their glasses.
“I’d like to make a toast,” said Esme, lifting her glass. “To the Braille Club.”
They clinked glasses and Ford took a long drink. Another bottle later and Esme was hanging on his every word.
“The hood they use is like nothing I’ve seen before. The cuffs I’m designing are unique…as is the chair. However the real challenge will be the body suit.”
Ford, his tongue loosened by the champagne, now went into the technical details explaining how these unique items operated. Esme sat enthralled, only interrupting when she needed clarification on specific details. When they ordered their third bottle of champagne to be taken to Ford’s room, the transition was easy. Deep in conversation, they entered the room, and the waiter arrived with their order minutes later. After he left they resumed talking. Ford pushed the small table against the wall, leaving a chair with room to move around. Without embarrassment he sat down and told Esme of the astounding sensory lesson he’d experienced at the Braille Club. He asked Esme to get the membership card.
She reached for his jacket on the bed. Her fingers touched the membership card and she pulled it out. She quickly unwound the ribbon as she approached Ford.
“Now you remember the rules, Es?” he asked.
She nodded as he stood up and took the ribbon from her. Breaking it apart, he quickly secured her hands, the bell tinkling as he did so and he felt Esme tense. Next, he gently pulled the blindfold over her eyes.
“How does that feel?” he asked.
“Mmm…I’m not sure,” said Esme hesitantly.
“We’re going to break the rules a bit. Can you tell me what you’re feeling by saying either hot or cold?” he instructed.
Esme laughed. “Okay, I think I can do that.”
Ford selected a song from his phone and music flooded the room. He started by touching her shoulders, caressing them gently, his fingers working along her collarbone and back.
“Warm,” she sighed.
He continued running his fingers up and down her arms, noticing the sudden goose bumps on her skin. He moved his fingers to caress her neck, and emboldened by the alcohol, put his lips to her skin.
“Warmer,” she gasped.
His lips explored her skin and he could feel Esme tense further. Was she enjoying it, he wondered, or enduring it. When he sucked on her earlobe her moan was a thrill.
“Now Esme, imagine you were wearing a suit that moulded to your body like a second skin…touching you all over.” His fingers glided over her sensitised flesh.
“Imagine that the seat you are on is vibrating, the pulses travelling through the centre of your body.” He brushed his thumb against her lips and felt her shiver. “Imagine a touch tracing up and down your body again and again.” His fingers danced along the top of her dress, skimming past her cleavage. Esme was panting; her body straining but still he wanted a reaction. “Imagine those vibrations intensifying, pushing up through the fabric of the chair and connecting with your body, igniting you…”
“Hot,” she gasped.
No longer able to resist, he bent his head and kissed her. His passion and its potency transmitted, making the kiss explosive. The only thing to bring him to his senses was the ringing of the bell. Esme hung her head as she tried to regain her composure. Ford’s hands gently removed the ribbons from her wrists before he removed the blindfold. He watched her open her eyes and blink in the light before standing up. She walked towards him.
“Imagine if I placed something here,” said Esme. Her hand rested on his crotch and he groaned, his arousal throbbing.
“Imagine if it vibrated.” Her hand moved up and down the outline of his shaft as a burst of sensations gripped him. She lifted his hands and placed them on her breasts.
“Imagine if I placed something here.”
He touched her hardened nipples, and she gasped when he squeezed and teased them. She wound her hands in his hair, pulled his head down and kissed him. They were both on fire, their mouths savage as they connected. His hands did what he had been itching to do for years—they undressed her. He tugged at the zip of her dress, roughly pulling the front down. He unclasped her bra and pulled it off, groaning as her breasts sprang free.
“Esme…” he whispered in wonder. His lips clamped onto the erect bud. Her hands were undoing his belt and button, her fingers caressing him, her touch exquisite…and then her phone rang. At first they both ignored it as it fell silent going to voicemail, and then it rang again.
Esme broke free, struggling over to her bag, and she gasped as she looked at the screen. She answered it and everything seemed to stop as she listened to the voice, her face crumpling as her eyes filled. Her voice shook as she said goodbye. Turning to Ford, she looked ten years older.
“It was the home…Mum’s gone,” she choked and burst into tears.
Chapter 30
The Braille Club, London, One Year On: Stoicum Restraints have several functions. The most important one had not changed, their primary function was to restrict movement, the secondary was to sense it. They can be placed on wrists, feet, and the neck. The newest modification allows the restraints to be tightened until they embed into the skin. They can be turned when in this position, causing friction and heat. Wearing and using these restraints involves a delicate balance.
London 2014
Anna
Anna stiffened as she heard a laugh—a high pitched, female laugh. Without
knocking, she entered the study. Robert and the woman in his embrace sprang apart. The air suddenly became tense as Anna noticed the creeping blush suffusing Robert’s face.
“Anna…” he stammered. “I like you to meet…”
“Don’t, Robert. Get her out of my home,” Anna said instinctively.
“Anna, please…” blustered Robert.
“Do you take me for a fool, Robert? I said get her out of my home.”
The female looked stricken as she looked from Robert to Anna, her hands fluttering as panic filled her eyes.
“Okay,” Robert said quietly.
With that Anna left the room, climbing the stairs wearily, her shoulders slumped and her legs like lead. She moved to her bedroom like she was wading through thick mud. When she got there she sat numbly on the bed, her mind suddenly no longer able to focus. She fell back on the duvet, eyes closed and heart thumping. Keeping them closed, she heard the study door open, then footsteps and the front door close. She lay motionless as the sting of betrayal started its slow and deadly journey to her heart. The minutes ticked by as the pain penetrated. By the time she heard Robert downstairs; it had her in a vise grip.
Thoughts of the girl consumed her. There was no other way to describe her. She was young, Anna could tell, not only from her face, but from her general style. Short blonde bob artfully flicked out, pretty ditsy dress and skilful makeup told Anna she’d spent time on her appearance. Her perfume was fruity…young, but it was their body language that told the biggest story. They had that familiarity that only intimacy brings. There was a mixture of longing and excitement in the room.