A Little Band of Red

by Lily Freeman

  “Do you understand?”

  PJ’s throat was dry and husky. She attempted to swallow, moisten it a little before she spoke, but Adam never gave her the chance.

  “You will refer to me as Master or Sir.” His fingers traced a teasing line down her neck, threading into her hair. “Now turn around.”

  Although she heard him loud and clear, it took forever for PJ to answer. “Yes, Sir.”

  Shuffling on her knees, she pivoted around. His hands settled on her nape, kneading with a strength that had her moaning before his fingers delved into her hair. One by one he removed the clips, the tumbling mass of curls adding to the chaos already hanging down her back.

  “Turn back to me.”

  PJ twisted around to find Master Adam leaning forward, his chest right there, close enough to touch, to kiss, to—

  “Rule number three; I am responsible for your pleasure—” His fingers flexed, tilting her head back till their lips almost touched. The first delicious bite of tension sizzled through her scalp. “And your pain.” His stubble grazed her skin, coarse against soft before he pressed a leisurely kiss to her temple. “I control them and you will ask for both.”

  She sighed, lost in his intensely dark eyes. Far away in the sensible part of her mind, she knew this should feel wrong, and it did on some level, but in the best possible way. If she could just block out her insecurities and the guilt, and focus on the beautiful man threading his hands into her hair, then perhaps she could survive this night with her dignity intact. Her morals, she’d deal with tomorrow, along with the emails, the building inspector, Rodger’s tantrums, and her own. What was one more thing in an ever-growing list?

  When PJ didn’t answer, Adam tightened his hand again. The wave of pleasure that shot down his arm continued lower, through his chest, straight to his cock.

  “Yes, Master Adam.”

  It was a husky whisper just for him. He loved the way his name rolled off her tongue, her odd little accent catching on the mmm at the end. Releasing her, Adam leaned back against the couch. His obedient sub remained exactly where he’d left her which pleased him greatly, but he wasn’t about to let her see that, not when he could clearly see her struggling to remain there.

  “Come here.” Spreading his thighs wider, he waited while she shuffled forward, hesitating before her body finally touched his.

  “Rule number four; a sub will always sit at her Dom’s feet in the position I’m about to show you. You will not move until you’re told, you will not fidget and you will not cover yourself. Some Doms may have their own variation, but generally it will be like this.”

  With his hands on her shoulders, Adam pushed her down until her ass rested on her heels. Then he slowly started to stroke her arms before travelling lower, over her ribcage, lower, across her flat stomach then around to her very well toned thighs. Even under the layers and layers of soft red wool he could feel her perfectly defined muscles. His own jerked, the rapidly hardening bulge in his jeans becoming incredibly hard to ignore. Slipping between the layers, he nudged her knees apart. Her breasts heaved in front of him in short, shallow pants. He was pushing her, harder than he should on her first night, but something about the way she instinctively submitted to him, whether she wanted to or not, spurred Adam on.

  Breathe, breathe, why couldn’t she breathe? Someone had stolen all the air— Master Adam. Oh God, his hands were between her legs, pressing against her thighs, stroking, probing.

  “Breathe, Sweetheart.”

  She did … she was, PJ sucked in a loud gasp.

  “There you go. You look beautiful.”

  His hands trailed back to her waist, one going left, one going right until he held her securely. With a gentle touch, his fingertips caressed the small of her back, up her spine, along her shoulder blades then down, down her arms until he held her wrists. Soft warm skin touched her forehead, his resting against hers.

  “Sometimes I’ll want you like this.”

  Tugging her hands down, Adam pressed them between her knees. Her little moan of surrender was so loud; PJ was mortified, but only until he kissed her then, gently on the cheek.

  “And sometimes I’ll want them at your back. Show me what you’d look like.”

  His gaze was a burning heat, searing over her, leaving her trapped in some sort of erotic trance as she stared at the floor, her hands finally moving into the position he’d asked for. They felt impossibly heavy as she laced her fingers together behind her back, her breasts pushing forward towards him. Big calloused fingers grasped her chin, lifting her face to meet his. PJ could taste him, breathe him in, they were so close, but it wasn’t close enough.

  “What do you feel, Sweetheart?”

  She felt everything and nothing, all at the same time. Aroused, scared, safe, out of control, overwhelmed, desperate, but mostly she felt him and that scared her because he was an illusion, merely playing his part in a game she couldn’t afford to lose. If PJ followed this path, she needed to remember that, or her heart would get broken again and again and she just couldn’t risk it.

  Maybe Indy was right, maybe she did need a relationship that was based on the physical level rather than an emotional one while she healed from the hurt that Sam’s betrayal had caused her. She had so much more to consider now, like the ridiculous amount of money sitting in her bank account and the fact that she’d never have to work again. How did one even bring that up in conversation or on a first date? Would she even want to? A lot of men would be put off, intimidated by her new found wealth and then of course there would be the others, the ones who would simply see her as a means to an end.

  Would Adam? Was he one of those men and did she even care? She’d only just finished convincing herself that she was nothing more than his Tuesday night appointment.

  “Answer me.”

  Fuck! “I don’t … know?”

  Leaning back in his seat again, Adam studied her. His eyes were so dark, they were almost black as they narrowed, then he was back, getting right up in her face. His hands dropped to her waist, squeezing her tight before he gently began to nuzzle her neck, coarse stubble scraping over tender skin, yet it calmed her, before he sank his teeth into her earlobe.

  “How about now?”

  Blazing heat touched her breasts, his hands cupping them, his fingers rolling her nipples.

  “And now?” Tiny circles, round and round.

  “Ahhh.” God.

  “Seems to me you like being exactly where you are.”

  Up and down, round and round, his thumbs stroked harder, faster. Within seconds PJ was spinning in a web of lust-drenched arousal. His firm, lush lips trailed along her jaw, down her throat and back again, stopping right beside her mouth. One of his hands abandoned her breast, thrusting deep into her hair. What started out gentle quickly turned rough as he tugged her head back, his big body closing in around her.

  “Do you want me to kiss you, Sweetheart?”

  God yes, she did, but her throat wouldn’t work because her mouth was so fucking dry.

  “Sweetheart?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  It was the beginning of the end, the sweet, addictive pull she felt towards him. Why couldn’t he have been ugly or short and bald? Why did he have to be so beautiful with a voice that slid over her like liquid silk? He made her feel helpless, incapable of resisting him.

  “Yes, Master.”

  His hold on her hair relaxed, but he didn’t release her, instead he tilted her head, cupping her nape with one hand while the other slid down her back and over her ass. His fingers hooked into her dress, tugging it up a little before she felt him grab flesh, her flesh and then he kissed her.

  Luke jerked, every muscle in his body snapping tight. He’d seen the same reaction before, caused it a few times when he’d cracked a whip over a woman’s ass, although he’d never experienced it himself, until now. With a shake of his head he tried to clear the haze that was suddenly clouding his vision, making his he
ad pound, but he couldn’t and it didn’t.

  As he stood still, locked in place by some sort of invisible force, his blood started to pump hard, rioting around his body. His fists clenched, his breath hitched, becoming shorter and sharper every time Adam touched her, or worse kissed her. For some completely unfathomable reason Luke felt betrayed, as if someone had stolen something that was his, which was madness. The woman was nothing to him. Yes, she was beautiful with a body he could get lost in for days, but that wasn’t what had him seething. It was the quiet words being passed between them, the tiny quiver that rolled through her when the bastard grabbed her and dragged her close. Her little gasp shot straight through Luke’s heart with its blatant honesty. There was no provocative thrust of her breasts, no undulation of her hips. Adam fucking Mackenzie was seducing her with a kiss and she was responding to him like a dream. Anger replaced indignation, surging through Luke like acid, burning, hurting, demanding a response.

  What if—no, he couldn’t follow that thought to its conclusion. It was his stressed out mind talking, trying to convince him that what he saw in her, was what he wanted, the answer to his prayers.

  But what if she was … her? The one—his soft place to fall.

  Adam grabbed her hair, yanking her head back hard and she didn’t fight him, though the pain would be sharp. It was all the evidence Luke needed to see.

  One last chance, that’s what this was. If he walked away tonight and never came back, he’d always wonder whether he gave up too soon, whether he could have had the opportunity to meet the perfect woman, but been too damn self-righteous to take it.

  PJ felt breathless and heady, her mind swirling as quickly as Master Adam’s tongue. She couldn’t think, couldn’t string her thoughts together, although she really should try because his hands were going places that she needed to defend or at least pretend to.

  Stubble grazed her cheek, tickling as he moved down, then her hair was yanked, angling her head back.

  “Ahhh.”

  “Tell me, Sweetheart, does this feel good?”

  Feather-light touches meandered down the back of her thigh, up again, back down.

  “Well, well, aren’t you just full of surprises, hmm?”

  Thanking the Lord she’d changed into the new French knickers and suspender belt she’d managed to buy between choosing doorknobs and ordering a fridge, PJ didn’t flinch as his fingers explored, teasing clips, stroking lace, before he pinched her.

  “Answer me.”

  She couldn’t, his hand was creeping around her hip, over her pubic bone, he was very, very close to her—

  “Now.”

  “Yes … Master, it feels—”

  He pushed her back, one of his hands holding her suspended, while the other delved between her thighs.

  “Oh, God.”

  “Say it, tell me how good it feels or I’ll stop.”

  Mortifying embarrassment struck her, followed by a rush of heat that was so intense, she couldn’t breathe. If she wasn’t so incredibly overwhelmed by him, she’d be putting a stop to this right now, except his fingers felt so big and strong as they slowly rubbed over her pussy and she really didn’t want him to stop.

  “Good, ahhh, please.” Christ, who was she?

  He kissed her again and it was equally as devastating as the first time. Even his taste was sublime, so rich and male, sweet with a hint of peppermint. Master Adam was utter perfection, but he was totally destroying her chances of ever finding a real man, not that he didn’t feel real as he gently thrust against her. None of this was real; she understood that. In fact if she were brutally honest, nothing in her life felt real anymore. Not her new home with its incredible views and not her new life with its endless possibilities. She was living a dream, but one day soon, she was going to have to wake up and face reality.

  “Ahem.”

  The stern male voice behind PJ was enough to have her jerking around, but Master Adam was having none of it. Hauling her closer, his hand moved to her ass, blatantly caressing before he finally released her. With one last little kiss to the tip of her nose he leaned back, gently brushing a messy curl off her cheek.

  “It appears it’s not our time, Sweetheart, but it will be, and soon.”

  Yep, as appealing as it sounded, she really didn’t believe that. Master Adam had been kind enough to give her a tour, or take one, either way she’d be thinking about him until she returned, but she very much doubted he’d be thinking about her. It seemed wrong to end such an amazing evening on a bad note, so she answered just like he’d taught her to.

  “Yes, Master.”

  Chapter 5

  It was a long list and a strong coffee that PJ carried into the warehouse the following morning. She’d woken up feeling fine, great even, then the reality of what she’d done had crushed the spark right out of her. Total stranger, public make out session … was this who she really wanted to be? No, the embarrassment she felt now far out weighed the excitement she’d experienced at the time, but it went deeper than that, much deeper.

  Shelving the thought for another time, possibly one involving India and wine, PJ had gotten dressed, heading out into grey skies and fog.

  Rodger and his ever-growing team were loitering outside discussing the morning’s activities and the upcoming inspection. Again they’d come down to the wire, but the framework was up and the pointing was complete. If they passed this inspection, it would give them four precious days grace before the next one.

  At nine fifteen on the dot, PJ’s phone rang. Without checking, she answered it.

  “Miss Lester, it’s Sasha from Bond Street speaking, I’m just ringing to let you know we’re processing your application fee this morning. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Oh no, that’s fine.” It wasn’t fine, PJ felt like she was going to vomit.

  “That’s great, I’ll go ahead and do that now. You’ll be expected at nine sharp on Saturday evening so we can go over the coding system with you.”

  Coding system, that sounded painful. PJ started to panic. “I’m sorry, I must have missed that bit in the tour.”

  “No problems, it’s our club’s safeguard for new members. Your limits and preferences are color coded with bands so the Doms know what you’re into. It keeps you in a safe zone until you feel more confident about negotiating your limits.”

  “Great, that makes me feel a hell of a lot better.” That was a total lie.

  Sasha’s sexy little laugh rumbled down the line. “Don’t worry, generally they’re a great bunch. One or two are hard-core, but they’re not interested in newbies, so you’ll have at least a month or so until they come knocking. Just as long as you know, they will come knocking eventually. Don’t be late, Miss Lester.”

  As PJ headed to the station, she sent Indy a text to confirm the dinner date they’d made and generally to share her emotional pain. The uncomfortable sensation that filled her chest whenever she thought about Bond Street and Adam soon passed when she joined the thousands of other shoppers in Knightsbridge.

  For the first time since she’d purchased the warehouse, PJ had more than a few hours to herself and she used them wisely, buying mostly lingerie: tiny lacy knickers, demi bras, suspenders and a dress. Sam had only ever bought her cheap tacky lingerie and she’d felt like a tramp wearing it, but by that stage in their relationship, she’d have done anything to keep him happy. As she wandered the streets, she found herself wondering if she’d ever gotten anything in return. He’d been so laid back, lazy even, while she’d done everything she could think of to build the relationship.

  There’d been another email this morning, but it hadn’t been filled with sweet promises like the last one, this one had been scathing. He’d accused her of being self-centred, he’d called her a coward, and maybe she was, hiding away in her glass tower, playing at living a new life, yet she couldn’t hide forever. If she’d learnt anything last night, other than how explicitly sexy she’d found submitting to Master Adam, it was that she nee
ded to tread carefully and protect the things that really mattered, like her heart.

  Much, much later after a nightmarish trip through Harrods, PJ found the little Italian restaurant she’d agreed to meet Indy at. Once again she’d barely managed to sit down before the woman pounced, figuratively.

  “So? Spill it. I can’t believe you made me wait this long for details.”

  India leaned forward, resting her chin on her upturned hands, her blonde bob swinging like a curtain as the shadows danced over her face.

  “There’s not much to tell really, I guess I got the same spiel you did, except I missed the group bit.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. I certainly didn’t get what you got, not even close. Do I need to remind you that you were on the floor, between a large man’s thighs with his tongue down your throat and his hand up your skirt? I so didn’t get that and neither did anyone else.” Indy pouted.

  “What did you get then?”

  “I got a tour, the rules and a nice little chat about the meaning of the word consensual.”

  “Oh, well, I’m sure if you had been late, Master Adam would’ve been all over you.”

  For several long drawn out moments Indy sipped her wine, her shrewd gaze roaming all over PJ’s face.

  “He did a real number on you didn’t he? That ex of yours.”

  Sam’s comments came flooding back, all at once. The old ones she’d systematically brushed off, week in and week out, and the new ones that still hurt.

  “Babe, you are absolutely gorgeous and so sweet. Can’t you just accept that and let the hot man grope you again? I know you loved it, we were watching you for ages before Master James pried you two apart.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. You two were beautiful, PJ. Fuck, the way he was holding you and kissing you. He looked like he’d kill if someone tried to take you away. You must have felt it.”

  Oh she had, there was no denying that. Every minute since she’d stumbled ungracefully out of Adam’s arms, she’d been thinking about him, feeling the giddy little quiver in her tummy, and lower at the idea of seeing him again.