He rolled the glass between his palms as he watched her. She discarded her blouse, then her bra. Beneath his gaze, her nipples hardened.
“You could do this for me every day, and I would appreciate it.”
Rafe made it easy to be brave. She unzipped her skirt, then worked it over hips that had always been too wide. It whooshed to the tile floor. Then she stripped off her panties.
“You can either bring your clothes upstairs or put them over the back of the couch.”
She opted for the couch, though the old her would have clutched them in front of her body to use as a shield.
“Precede me, please.”
Obeying with this request was more difficult than some of the others, even the one to drag the rose up her bare thigh. Her body’s flaws would be exposed to him.
Affecting bravery, she pulled back her shoulders and began to walk up the stairs. She had reached the landing before his footsteps echoed behind her. He was following, but at his own languid pace.
“Take a left turn at the top,” he instructed.
The second story was as spectacular as the first. He had a guest room with a large window that was covered with a blind. It had its own private bathroom.
His home office was as tidy as the rest of the house. One wall was covered with renderings of various Sterling hotels, some in winter settings with snow covering the nearby mountain peaks, another with an open-air lobby with the warm waters of the South Pacific beckoning. There were others in Asia, the Le Noble in New York City, the Maison Sterling in New Orleans, and the Sterling Parkland in Washington, DC, complete with a view of the White House or Lafayette Park. A coffee-table book of the company’s history lay atop his credenza.
Pictures and portraits lined the walls, and there was a framed family tree.
Earlier she’d suggested that it must have been exciting and wonderful to be the wealthy heir apparent of the Sterling empire. Obviously, it was also a burden. Though he was a young man, he had a weariness about him that spoke of grave responsibility. “This is part museum.”
“That’s on purpose. It reminds me of what I’m working toward.”
“As if you’d forget?”
He showed her the bonus room with a television and more unused couches. A full-body workout machine stood near the window. “It has interesting possibilities for securing you in place while I do nasty things to you.”
She glanced over her shoulder. He wasn’t smiling, and a diabolical gleam spiked through his eyes.
“The tour is over. I’m impatient for a taste of you.”
He invited her to precede him into the oversize master bedroom. There were windows on two sides, meaning it would be a sundrenched space during the day. And he had a small table and chairs.
“I’d start every morning off right here, I think.” It would be a perfect nook for journaling or planning her day.
“You’re welcome to see how it works for you.” He placed her almost-untouched water glass on the nightstand.
Another temptation. She wondered if this was how she would end up in hell, by eating one forbidden fruit at a time.
“Come here.” His tone was sharper than it had been earlier, skittering her pulse into a frenzy. He pointed to a spot in front of him.
She crossed the cool floor to stand where he indicated. Then, unsure how to act, she shifted her weight.
“Please help me off with my jacket.”
She walked behind him and thought that performing the act might be awkward, but instead it was easy, part of the dominance he was using to define their roles.
“It goes in the closet.” He pointed. “On the valet.”
She’d seen that type of wooden structure in magazine ads and on designer television shows, and until now she hadn’t been sure what it was called. It had a shelf for his personal effects, a drawer for storage, and a couple of hooks, perhaps for a tie and a belt.
On the side wall, he had a vault. And there was a wooden panel that might have resembled a wardrobe, except for the fact it was built into the wall. The large luxurious walk-in closet smelled of leather and pulsed with masculine power. His organization was meticulous. His suits and shirts were arranged by color. Next came casual wear, khaki pants and polo shirts. Sports shirts and shorts were folded on shelves. She supposed it made him more efficient, but part of her yearned to mess up his life, even a little bit.
“Stalling won’t save you,” he called out.
Hope gripped the material tighter, so she didn’t drop it. “Coming!” She draped the jacket over the back of the valet on the piece of wood curved to resemble a hanger, then smoothed the wrinkles from the fabric. There was no reason to be scared of what would come next. Who am I kidding?
When she returned to him, his smile of appreciation was the encouragement she needed.
“Undo my tie.”
“I’m not sure where to begin.”
“You’ll figure it out. The more you struggle, the more I’ll enjoy it.”
She stretched to reach the knot, and getting so close to him caused her tender nipples to brush against his shirt. He filled her vision, swamped her senses. If this kind of arousal was constant in BDSM, she wasn’t sure she could bear it.
Hope worked the knot free.
“Take it all the way off.”
“Should I put it away?”
“No. Offer it to me, then turn around and place your hands behind you.” He held her gaze. “Tell me you understand.”
This was her first experience with bondage, and her pulse fluttered. “Yes, Rafe.” The words were magic, making her want to obey.
Hope pulled his tie free. A primitive instinct compelled her to fold it in half, then in quarters, before extending it toward him.
“You’re a natural.”
She turned, expectation spiking in her blood, and laced her fingers at the small of her back, waiting.
With perfunctory movements, he wound the silk around her wrists. “How’s that?”
It wasn’t tight enough to cut off her circulation, but there was no give in the fabric, making her aware of his power.
“I want you to use your colors if you’re frightened too much.” He feathered the words against her ear.
“You’re planning to scare me?”
“Oh, yes. The exact amount.” His breath was warm on her skin, and tiny goose bumps dotted her arms. “Some fear is good for you, sweet Hope. It will keep you in line.”
And if it doesn’t? A sense of preservation kept her from challenging him aloud.
He swept her from her feet to carry her to the bed. He laid her on her back, her hands still fastened, imprisoned beneath her.
Her mouth dried as he crossed to the closet. He returned less than a minute later, carrying two things, a thin paddle and leather-thonged implement she recognized as a flogger.
“This one is for beginners.”
If that was true, she didn’t want to see the advanced version. The fear he had mentioned chilled her.
“The falls are wide, so it’s going to be a thuddy sensation.” He picked up the handle. He held the flogger above her chest, the angled tips skimming her skin. Watching her reaction, he danced the leather over her breasts, the light touch awakening her nerve endings. Her nipples became even tighter, and she drew her shoulder blades toward each other, trying to arch.
He moved lower, across her ribs, down her torso. Without being told, she spread her legs for him.
“Sweet, sweet Hope.” Avoiding her cunt, he gave her legs and inner thighs leather caresses.
“Please.” She wanted the whole experience.
He moved his wrist, then flicked the strands between her legs.
This was more than a touch; it was quick bursts of flat pain. She understood what he’d meant by thuddy, and she loved it. “This… Yes.”
“Say my name.”
“Please, Rafe.” Then for the first time, because it was natural, she added, “Sir.”
“I’d put a ribbon around the moon
for you.” When he flicked his hand, sending the flogger flying against her cunt in a brutal kiss, she screamed his name.
“Did you come?”
“I…”
He pulled the implement away. “Did you come?” His carefully enunciated demand made her shiver.
“You know I did. But it’s not my fault.”
“Does that mean you’re blaming me for your misbehavior?”
Ever since he pressed the thorn against her, she’d been on a knife’s edge. The fact that he’d denied her a climax several times had made her more orgasmic than ever before. Sensing danger, she answered, “No. Sir. I meant that I’ve been so turned on by your skilled”—evil—“ways this entire evening.” She opened her eyes, unaware that she’d closed them.
“Celeste mentioned you should go into PR. I concur.”
He returned to his closet. Something tinkled, like metal playing on wood. His cufflinks? Then silence echoed around her. Her trepidation built, as he no doubt intended.
When he exited, his shirtsleeves were rolled up. He’d never been sexier.
“I will be with you in less than sixty seconds.”
She nodded. The man was masterful. In leaving her tied in the middle of his bed, naked, flogged, her pussy sizzling, she was hyperaware of her submission to him.
Though she strained her hearing, she couldn’t quite make out what he was doing.
In less time than he’d promised, he carried a wooden chair into the room.
“This will suit our needs.” It was serviceable and sturdy, like something out of an old-fashioned classroom. “In fact, I may leave it in here permanently.” He placed it near one of the windows. “Please come to me.”
Since her hands were tied, his request challenged her. She wriggled toward the edge of the mattress.
Watching her with avid interest, he said, “Now I want you on your knees, then turn around.”
“I suspect I’m not the first one you’ve given this direction to.”
“You’d be wrong.”
Startled, she stared at him.
“You’re the first submissive I’ve had in this bed.”
Since she wasn’t sure how to respond, she accepted his help to her knees. “You like watching me struggle.”
“It’s as exciting as fuck. I’m considering ordering you to grind your pelvis against the mattress and watching you get yourself off. Shouldn’t take much since your cunt is already hot from my lash.”
An illicit thrill raced through her. What the hell was it about him that turned her into a sex fiend, horny for each new experience?
“In fact—”
“No. No, no, no, no, no. No.”
“No?” In his maddening way, he raised one of his eyebrows. “No is not a safe word.”
She knew that.
“Oh, yes. I want to watch you fuck my bedding.”
She was humiliated. Worse, she was aroused.
“Back into the middle of the bed.” He held on to her while she faced away from him. Then he checked her bonds and tightened them again before lowering her facedown onto the mattress. “Now do the nasty to my bedding,” he said.
Thankful her heated face was buried in the covers, so he couldn’t see her, she awkwardly rotated her hips.
“Again, with more enthusiasm.”
“God.” She made the same stilted move.
“Get out of your head. Pretend I’m not here, if that’s easier.”
How could she? His scent lingered everywhere, and his words rumbled in her head.
“I mean it, Hope. Stop thinking. Do, rather than worry.”
Having her hands tied behind her back restricted her movements and shifted her body weight. But that meant she could use the leverage to stimulate her breasts.
“Stalling any longer will make your upcoming spanking even worse.”
Concentrating on following his orders, she shifted her upper body back and forth.
“Better. I love watching your ass shimmy.”
She scowled, relieved he couldn’t see her face.
In a few minutes, she grew tired and frustrated. When he relented, she exhaled. A spanking had to be better than this.
But he wasn’t done with her. He rolled her onto one side, then folded a pillow in half before placing it between her legs and under her lower torso. The position forced her ass into the air, and it placed her pussy against the pillow.
“Now hump it.”
The Egyptian cotton rubbing against her cunt turned her on. She stopped trying to create friction against her nipples and instead focused on thrusting against the pillow.
“That’s it.”
Once she shut out thoughts of how obscene she must look with her buttocks clenching and wiggling, she appreciated his murmurs of approval. He had been right when he’d suggested that she’d easily be aroused because her cunt had been tormented by orgasms, the rose, and his flogger.
A climax loomed out of reach. And no doubt he intended to punish her for coming when his lash had struck her. She moaned.
“I love hearing your sounds. Somewhere between pleasure and desperation. Grind it harder.”
I can’t. She did. The increased sensation was a lick of pleasure. “Rafe…”
“You’re not ready yet.”
“I am!” Now that he’d refused her, she was frantic.
“Wait.”
She slowed her movements a little, trying to back away from the pleasure.
“I didn’t tell you to stop fucking it.”
“But…”
He unleashed his flogger on her ass, driving her.
Crying out from the exhilaration, Hope adjusted her position as much as possible beneath his lash and without the use of her hands so that her labia was parted farther, putting more of her body in contact with the pillowcase. “Rafe. Rafe.” She ground her back teeth together, trying to distract herself.
He continued, lighting up her buttocks and upper thighs. It was too much and at the same time not enough.
“I love seeing you helpless like this. Needy. Hungry. Your greedy little cunt.”
His words dragged her back to his sensual reality, and her ability to hold on much longer was unraveling. “Sir!”
“Perfect.”
She exhaled in gratitude, but instead of him granting her relief, he tossed aside the flogger, then turned her onto her back. “What?” she demanded as breath whooshed from her lungs.
He dragged the pillow from beneath her and threw it to the far side of the mattress before spreading her legs and kneeling between her thighs.
She studied his strong face, and this time there was no smile of approval, nothing beyond intense focus. “Are we going to have sex?”
“Oh, yes.” Instead of unbuckling his belt, he leisurely plucked at her semierect nipples, teasing them until they were engorged and standing straight up.
Her arousal returned in force, and she lifted her hips in invitation.
He released his grip and instead placed his palms on either side of her hips.
“I thought were going to have sex.” She scowled at the confounding man.
“Your spanking is first.”
Frustration gnawed at her. “So you’re not going to let me come?”
“You’ll get to come as often as you like when I’m fucking you.” His eyes darkened. “But for now? No. I’m staying here until you’re no longer on the edge.”
His games were infuriating, yet they left her vibrant and alive.
He proved to be a patient man. Rafe remained where he was, preventing her from drawing her legs together to try to sneak some relief. The whole time he kept his gaze trained on her, showing interest in nothing other than her actions.
When her skin had cooled, and she’d regained control over her breathing, he instructed, “Stay in that exact position.”
He waited for her to nod before he left the bed. “When you’re ready, turn yourself over, then make your way to the edge of the mattress, feetfirst.”
Her earlier task should have meant she’d no longer be embarrassed in front of him. Wrong. Having him loom over her with folded arms while she inched toward him, trying to avoid rubbing her pussy so she didn’t come, made her very aware of her femininity.
Hope had expected him to stand there while she maneuvered off the bed, but he was there to steady her, his grip sure. “Thank you.”
“I’ll always be here for you, Hope.”
For a glorious second, she allowed herself to bask in his words before reality crashed back into her. He wasn’t hers, and she wasn’t his.
She shrugged out of his grip, then turned to face him. She wished he wasn’t so handsome and that his web wasn’t so thick.
“You’ve earned that spanking.”
“Earned? Like it’s some kind of honor?”
“In the most wonderful way.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“How was the flogging?”
She recalled the pain that had excited her, then receded right away. “I liked it.”
“Perhaps you’ll enjoy the paddle as well.”
It was on the bed, behind her, but it loomed as a threat. “Not convinced.”
“It’s a different kind of pain. Depending how I use it, of course. It will be a flat, dull pain. I won’t let you bruise—”
“Are there bruises from the flogger?” She turned her head, as if she could see her rear.
“No. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but I didn’t use a lot of force. Were you hoping for some?”
Scandalized, she opened her eyes wide. “No.” But the idea swirled in her mind.
“You’re an ineffective liar.” He grinned.
“Can we get the spanking over with?” The longer they waited, the worse her nerves were becoming.
“You don’t get to set the pace, sweet Hope. That’s known as topping from the bottom. I promise to honor your safe word. But there can be no misunderstanding. I’m in charge.”
“Yes, Rafe.” She said it so quickly that her lack of sincerity had to be obvious.
“Because you’re attempting to manipulate me, we’ll also play with the butterfly.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Butterfly?” Now what had she gotten herself into?
“It’s a purple vibrator. You’ll find it on the bottom shelf of the wall unit in the closet.” He removed the tie from around her wrists. “Don’t stall.”
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