Tied to You

by Bibi Paterson

  Alex rips open the paper and pulls out the soft grey cashmere scarf that I found when I was out and about the week before. I had noticed he didn’t seem to have one, so when I came across this one, the exact colour of his eyes, I thought it would suit him. His presents also include an e-reader with a couple of titles that I thought he would like already loaded and a selection of Aussie sweets that I managed to find in one of those random stores that seem to cater to every nationality who might be missing their favourite foods from home.

  “I hope that you like them…?” I ask hesitantly.

  Alex leans over and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. “They are lovely. Thank you. You really didn’t need to.” I shrug in embarrassment but refrain from saying anything more. “Your turn,” he says, handing me a stack of boxes.

  “What on earth, Alex?” I ask, and this time it is Alex shrugging his shoulders. I open my presents slowly, savouring my gifts. A few of the packages are filled with clothes and I am guessing Alex must have got some assistant, or his secretary, to help him out because he has my size spot on and everything coordinates. “Are you fed up with my fab style already?” I joke.

  “Nope, just thought that most chicks are into clothes, and you haven’t really been buying anything…” he trails off, looking a little uneasy.

  “Thanks, Alex. These are lovely.” The rest of the parcels contain perfume, chocolates, a couple of books and even a voucher for a spa day. The items are really personal yet Alex has got each one spot on, making me wonder if he has been going through my things. I dismiss the thought and lean across to give him a kiss, murmuring a soft ‘Thank you’.

  The rest of the day is spent cooking Christmas lunch and then slipping into a food-induced coma in front of the TV as we watch films all afternoon. I must have dozed off at one point as I wake to find my head on a pillow in Alex’s lap, a blanket thrown across my body and his hand resting on my hip. I am so grateful for the return of this version of Alex that I lie there for a while, eyes closed despite being fully awake, savouring the moment.

  Chapter Eleven

  I pull on my ball gown and then realise I have no way of zipping up the back. Try as I might, nothing is going to help me get that zip up. With a sigh of frustration, I realise that I am going to need Alex’s help. I call down the stairs and moments later I hear his footsteps on the stairs. As he enters my room, I take in the sight of him suited and booted in his tux and, for a moment, my heart skips a beat.

  I turn so that I am standing in front of the long mirror, holding up my strapless bodice, with my bare back to Alex. “Could you give me a hand with the zip? I just can’t seem to get it to budge,” I ask. Without a word, Alex crosses the room and comes to stand behind me. I catch his eye in the mirror and smile at him, but an expression I can’t read crosses his face. I would say it was lust, but I know better than to think that Alex feels that way for me, no matter how tingly he makes me. His hand rests on the small of my back and I hear his breath hitch, but he doesn’t say anything as he slowly, almost sensuously, pulls the zip up my back. Even when it is finally up, Alex doesn’t step away. Instead, he rests his hands on my bare shoulders as he stares at my reflection in the mirror.

  “You look stunning, Liv,” he murmurs into my ear as his eyes run down the length of me in my midnight blue gown, and for a moment I wonder if he is going to kiss me. But then he shakes his head slightly as if to dispel a thought and instead holds up a red jewellers box. “I thought this would go with the dress,” he says, opening the box and pulling out a stunning sapphire pendant set in platinum. He drapes it around my neck, fastening it at the back, and then stands back to admire it in my cleavage.

  “Oh, wow. It’s beautiful, Alex,” I say, running my fingers over the cool stone. I think Alex is about to say something, but then he abruptly turns and stalks out the room with a strange expression on his face.

  I add the final touches of my makeup and grab my clutch before heading downstairs to join Alex. Tonight is a huge New Year’s Eve ball sponsored by Davenport Wines being held in Battersea Park and I know there are going to be a lot of important people there. I am kind of dreading it as there will be lots of schmoozing to be done, and inevitably I get left alone. All the wives seem to already be in their own cliques and I don’t really fit in anywhere. But I will plaster on my smile because this is for Alex and I owe him for everything he has done for me.

  The car ride is mercifully quick, and as we enter the marquee where the event is being held, I take in all the gowns surrounding me. Mine is positively dull in comparison, an intense midnight blue with a sprinkle of glittering sequins across the bust line, but when I went shopping, I wasn’t really sure what would be appropriate. Alex keeps his arm around me the whole time we walk through the crowds greeting people, which is somewhat unusual, but whatever. I am just going with the flow.

  Suddenly I feel him stiffen beside me and I look around for the source of his agitation, finally spotting a woman walking towards us in the most stunning crimson gown overlaid with black lace. Her raven black hair is pulled up and clipped off her face, accentuating her sharp features, and I sense purpose when I look into her icy blue eyes. Alex remains completely still as she approaches, and when I stare up at him, I notice the cold, hooded expression on his face.

  “Alex, darling,” the woman purrs, kissing him on both cheeks, before turning her eyes on me. “And this must be your lovely new bride,” she continues, though her tone suggests that I am anything but lovely.

  “Sofia,” Alex acknowledges her. “Yes, this is my wife, Olivia. Olivia, this is Sofia Augustine, an old…business associate of mine.” I smile politely at Sofia, but my subconscious is whispering, ‘Business associate, my arse!’

  “Pleased to meet you,” I say, holding out a hand that Sofia ignores completely.

  “Alex, we have not seen you at the club for a while now,” she says, her voice low and probably meant for my husband’s ears only, as she runs a scarlet painted nail down the sleeve of his jacket.

  “I have been busy, Sofia,” Alex responds brusquely. “Now, please excuse us. We have to circulate.” Alex pulls me along before Sofia has a chance to respond, a little forcefully so that it makes it hard to keep up on my heels. I glance up at him and I can see Alex’s jaw working furiously; I have never seen him quite this unsettled and my mind is racing as I try to figure out just what is going on.

  Alex grabs a glass of champagne off one of the passing waiters and downs it in one gulp before requesting another and a soft drink for me. Well, at least he hasn’t forgotten that I am here. “Are you okay, Alex?” I ask softly.

  “Fine,” he answers sharply, leaving me in no doubt that he doesn’t want to talk about what just happened.

  “Okay,” I whisper, feeling like I have just been scolded.

  Seeing my face, Alex‘s expression softens slightly and he suggests we make our way to our table for dinner. I nod my head and let him lead the way. It is only moments before I hear an announcement to sit down and soon people are following in our wake.

  Our table is filled with the usual wine industry colleagues that Alex deals with, so I keep smiling and try to join in the conversation, but most of it goes over my head. After a while, I simply zone out as I try to puzzle through the incident with Sofia. The mention of ‘club’ is tickling my subconscious, but I just can’t figure out why it is bothering me so much. I am lost in my inner musings when, suddenly, the hair on the back of my neck prickles, and when I glance around I see Sofia glaring daggers in my direction. The moment that she notices that I see her, her expression instantly smoothes into a neutral mask, and I start to wonder if I imagined it.

  I barely manage to eat any of my dinner, delicious as it is, due to my stomach being full of nerves. Alex notices and I see the frown crossing his face. Not wanting to add to whatever is stressing him out, I deliberately pick up a forkful of chicken and stuff it in my mouth. I see his relief and I resolve to get through this evening with minimal fuss.

 
After dinner, there are a number of speeches and then a band comes on. The mixture of pop and rock has my feet tapping, and seeing this, Alex stands and asks me if I want to dance. I accept gratefully, anything to get away from Sofia’s daggers, which continue to be sent my way when I am not looking directly at her. We spend the next few hours dancing away and I am grateful to see the tension no longer in Alex’s face. We laugh as Alex tries to spin me to some fast fifties rockabilly number and it all goes horribly wrong when my feet get tangled in the long skirt of my dress. But fortunately he saves me before I hit the ground.

  At last, some slower songs come on and Alex wraps me up in his arms and rests his chin on my head. As we sway, I listen to his heart thumping in his chest, trying to figure out the enigma that is Alex Davenport. Before I know it, the countdown to midnight begins and I grin as we shout along with everyone else.

  As the clock strikes I turn to Alex, my breath catching in my throat. I know what is expected; we are husband and wife and everyone will expect a kiss. What I don’t expect is for our kiss to spiral out of control as Alex is consumed by some unknown hunger, the same hunger I experienced briefly on our wedding day. He bites down on my bottom lip, causing me to yelp slightly, but all that does is give him access to explore my mouth. As his tongue clashes with mine, I find my whole body responding as I melt into Alex’s hard frame. Alex’s hands move down to cup my bum, kneading and grabbing hard enough to leave bruises, before one hand returns to grip the back of my neck tightly. Finally, Alex breaks away and we are both left breathless, staring at each other. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest that I am sure it must be audible to everyone around us.

  “We’re leaving,” Alex states in a tone that brooks no argument. I merely nod in reply and let him lead me to the cloakroom to fetch my wrap, and then we are sitting in the car, being driven home. The tension between us is thick, yet neither of us has said a word. I glance up at Alex under my eyelashes and see his jaw clenched and an expression that I can’t fathom in his eyes. Every fibre of my being is hyper-aware of Alex’s masculinity, and a dull throb sits between my legs. I squirm in my seat, trying to find a little relief, when suddenly I am aware of Alex’s scrutiny. His eyes bore through me, yet the expression on his face remains a neutral mask. A smirk appears as he runs his eyes over my body and I find my nipples hardening under my dress.

  We have no sooner pulled up in front of the house than Alex is pulling me from the car and into the house. The door slams shut behind us and for a moment we both just look at each other, lost in the inevitable. And then Alex speaks. “Turn around, Olivia.” The command is issued in a low, gravelly voice, completely at odds with Alex’s regular teasing tone. The use of my full name startles me, and before I can think further, my body is already obeying. I stand still, my eyes staring up the stairs, as we stand in the frigid hallway, and I wait with bated breath. A few moments pass and all I can hear is our breathing.

  Suddenly I am aware of Alex’s arms coming over my shoulders and unhooking the cape at my throat. It slithers to the floor, and for a heartbeat, the world stops spinning on its axis. I shiver as I feel Alex’s warm breath on my neck as, ever so slowly, he pulls down the zip of my gown. “Put your arms out and hold on to the end of the bannister,” he instructs gruffly. I comply without rational thought, quietly awaiting his next command. The single movement has my dress pooling at my feet as I lean forward to grip the smooth wooden post. Large, agile hands skim down my sides until they rest on my hips and I am very much aware that my arse is now in the air, the angle of my body on my heels offering direct access to my damp, aching pussy. The hands follow a leisurely pace down the backs of my thighs and calves, until they reach my ankles. “Lift your foot and then the other,” Alex orders. I comply and he pulls the dress out from around my feet, discarding it in a heap by the front door.

  I glance back down at Alex, but immediately he notices. “Eyes forward,” he barks, and I whip my head back around, my heart thumping in my ears. The cold of the hallway has raised goosebumps over my skin and I am shivering ever so slightly. I feel Alex stand behind me, heat radiating from his frame making the cold more tolerable, and then I hear him shedding his own clothes. My body is feeling ultra-sensitive, and the moment his hand snakes around my waist and deft fingers find my clit, I let out a low groan, as the warmth starts to spread across my pelvis. His pelvis pushes into my arse and I can feel the huge length of him grinding between my butt cheeks. Suddenly, Alex’s other hand is grabbing my breast, pulling it from the confines of my strapless bra and, almost painfully, squeezing my nipple. Teeth nip at my ear and neck as he forces my head back, my back arching as I try to maintain my balance.

  “I don’t make love,” Alex hisses into my ear. “I fuck, I root, I shag…but I don’t do soft and I don’t do sweet. Do you understand, Olivia?” I nod my head, a thousand conflicting thoughts swirling around my head. “If you want this to stop, you need to say so now…” he trails off and waits for my answer. My brain is telling me that this is all a bit weird, that this is not what I want, but my treacherous body has other ideas and so I keep silent.

  “Fine,” Alex growls as he steps back. My body is already missing his heat, but I don’t dare look around to see where he has gone. I then hear the telltale sound of a condom wrapper and I realise that there is not going to be much in the way of foreplay. Then he is back behind me, gripping my hips tightly. I hear the rip as he tears through the silk of the French knickers I bought for our wedding day, and then he is sliding into my damp pussy. When he has filled me to the hilt, his hand snakes around again and starts playing with my clit, rubbing circles and pinching the tiny mass of nerves until I feel ready to explode. Just as I think I am going to tip over the edge, he whips his hand away. I let out a guttural moan, deep and low, in response, but then Alex begins to move inside of me. Small, sharp thrusts to start with morph into long, deep pushes that fill me to my core. I am still gripping onto the bannister post for dear life and I am sure that I will be leaving fingernail marks in the wood. A low, keening sound is coming out of my mouth as I feel my orgasm building once again. It builds and builds, my body feeling like molten fire, and I am not really sure how my legs are still supporting me. A hand grips my breast once again and I can feel my nipple being pinched hard. The pain sends sparks of electricity directly to my clit, and all at once, I am coming hard around Alex’s engorged cock. My inner muscles grip him hard as the waves of my orgasm crash over me and I hear Alex grunting as he slams into me. With a final thrust he lets go, consumed by his own orgasm.

  I don’t know how long we stay like that, panting as we both try to get our breath back, but finally, I feel Alex’s stance soften and then he is pulling gently out of me. “I’ll be back in a moment, Liv,” Alex murmurs and then he is gone. My wobbly legs finally give way and I find myself sliding down onto the cold tile of the entrance hall, still wearing my heels. My body is shaking, but I can’t quite figure out if it is from the cold or the aftermath of my climax. Moments later Alex returns, carrying a soft blanket, which he drapes around my shivering frame. He is still gloriously naked and I take in the sight of the man in front of me. My mind is still fuzzy and I try to say something, but nothing comes out as Alex scoops me up as if I weigh nothing at all. I wrap my arms around his neck, resting my head on his shoulder as I close my eyes and he carries me up the stairs.

  Gently, Alex lowers me onto a bed and I open my eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. I take in the masculine wooden furniture and dark blue cotton sheets and surmise that I must be in Alex’s bedroom, the one room of the house I have never actually entered. My body is still trembling, despite the warmth of the blanket, so he pulls open the duvet, inserts me under it and then climbs in next to me, wrapping his body around mine.

  We lie in silence for several minutes and I can hear his heart thumping in his chest. “You okay, Liv?” he asks softly. I try to wrap my brain around what just happened, but I think a part of me is in denial. This changes everything. How can we go
back after this to the easy friendship that we had developed? There is so much to Alex that I just don’t understand, starting with the basement and ending with that crazy voice he used while he was fucking me, and I just don’t know what to think. And then here he is, after saying he doesn’t do ‘gentle’, looking after me, holding me like I might break.

  “I…I am fine, Alex,” I whisper, but I know that I am lying. We have crossed an invisible boundary and I am aware that, at this moment, I have made the biggest mistake of my life…I have fallen in love with Alexander Davenport. I look up into his eyes and something tells me that Alex knows that I am lying, but he doesn’t push it. A soft kiss lands on my hair, and fingers gently rub circles on my back. The warmth of the bed, coupled with Alex’s soothing ministrations, soon has me feeling dozy. I long to ask Alex where we go from here, but instead keep my mouth shut and wait as sleep slowly descends.

  ~~~~~~~~~~

  I wake to the sound of a vacuum cleaner coming closer and closer. I am lying on my front, my arms hugging the pillow beneath me, as the events of the evening before slowly filter back. It suddenly occurs to me that I am not in my bed, so I stretch out my arm, only to find the sheets cool. I open my eyes, just as Alex’s housekeeper, Mrs James, walks into the room. She is clearly startled to see me, and I find myself flushing with embarrassment that I have been caught in Alex’s bed.

  “Morning, Mrs Davenport,” she says, clearly uncomfortable.

  “Um, morning, Mrs James,” I reply as I glance at the clock on the side. Heavens, I have completely slept through. “I am sorry. I didn’t realise you were in today,” I say.