“I’m very happy you’re here too,” he said softly, “and now I’m going to sleep.”
“Goodnight, Joseph,” and as she nestled next to him, a small, contented smile crossed her lips.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
In the centuries-old manor house, Simon and Belle were curled up in their bed catching their breath from their fervent lovemaking. The winter weather was upon them, with icy rain and unseen clouds creating a starless night, but Belle loved it, finding the inclement weather romantic, and laying warm and protected in his arms, shrouded in her lingering euphoria, she was drifting happily.
When they’d first arrived they had hurried into the empty, cold house and made straight for the bedroom. Simon immediately lit the fire, and after sharing a hot shower they had huddled together in the thermal micro-fiber sheets until the room became comfortably warm, then Simon slid the bedcovers back and smothered her body with his ardent kisses and soft caresses. She had sighed and moaned and ached for him, and as he’d pushed inside her, with the symphony of the rain and wind as their backdrop, he had driven them forward to their delicious release.
“I think I’m in heaven,” she moaned.
“That must mean I am too,” he replied.
“I swear I can’t keep my eyes open another minute.”
“You don’t have to,” he purred, “and we can sleep in as long as we want.”
“Thank goodness, I need to,” she murmured, surrendering herself to the magic of the sandman floating above them, sprinkling his enchanted dust across their eyes.
The sound of the splattering rain and distant thunder faded away, and Belle found herself standing on the edge of a glassy lake.
It was a cool, foggy day, and she was dressed in a long, Victorian cream gown, staring up at Simon. He was smiling, his eyes filled with love, but as she looked towards the lake she saw ripples starting, the soft breeze becoming cold and threatening. In the distance Lucinda sat in a small boat, floating helplessly with no oars or sail. She had been told not to go in the boat, and most especially, not venture out into the lake, but she had, and now she was in trouble.
Jolting awake, she stared around the room, and Simon, roused from sleep, sat up and put his arm around her.
“Belle, what’s wrong, you’re trembling?”
“Bad dream, Lucinda had taken a boat out on a lake and was stuck,” she quivered. “A boat she was told to stay away from, but of course she didn’t, and she couldn’t get back to shore.”
“Sssh, it was just a dream,” he said softly, pulling her back down and gently cradling her.
“I’m worried, Simon. Joseph brought her into the loop and now she’s going to do something stupid, I just know it.”
“I’ll make sure Joseph doesn’t let her out of his sight,” he promised.
“I think that would be a really good idea,” she nodded.
“Go back to sleep, I’m right here, and I’ll call Joseph when we get up.”
“Thank you for not scoffing,” she said, hugging him tightly.
“Somehow you knew about Amaranth, and there’s no reason for me to doubt your instincts now.”
Several hours later, Belle awoke to Simon’s mouth gently kissing the back of her neck. Sighing with pleasure and joy, she rolled over and curled into his body, luxuriating in the deep, enveloping sense of safety and love.
. “Guess what time it is?” he smiled.
“I have no idea,” she yawned.
“Almost ten-thirty.”
“You’re kidding,” she yawned again, “I can’t remember the last time I slept so late.”
“Me either,” Simon sighed. “I’m not sure I ever have.”
“The fire’s still burning,” she remarked.
“I put some more logs on earlier, and amazingly, I fell back asleep,” he declared.
“You know, I think it’s because we’re here by ourselves, and we don’t have to be anywhere or do anything,” she said softly, but a moment later, the vague memory of the dream floated into her mind.
“I hate to break this mood,” she sighed, “but I’m still worried about Lucinda and Joseph. You really think he did the right thing?”
“Joseph had to think on his feet,” Simon replied, “and I believe his decision was sound. From what he told me, that Katherine girl pumped Lucinda for information and Lucinda delivered. Bringing her in wasn’t part of the plan, but he needed to at the time and apparently it worked out.”
“I just hope he can control her,” Belle remarked.
“I suspect that isn’t an issue,” Simon declared. “I think your sister has finally met her match.”
“From your lips,” she remarked.
Before Joseph had left Hardcastle’s house, he had excused himself to visit the bathroom and placed a covert call to Simon, bringing him up to date. The news had alarmed Belle, but Simon had taken it in stride.
“Now, my sweet Belle,” he crooned, hugging her closely, “it’s time to put all that aside and focus on us.”
“Absolutely,” she sighed. “I would love that.”
“Let’s get up and make ourselves some breakfast, and then we can start your training.”
“My training?” she repeated, a small group of fluttering butterflies springing to life.
“Yes, Belle, your training.”
An hour later they were pottering around the large kitchen, scrambling eggs, making tea and toast, and perched on stools they ate at the butcher block island.
“We’re not bad cooks after all,” she grinned.
“Apparently,” he grinned back, “though scrambled eggs isn’t exactly rocket science.”
“This is true,” she giggled.
After cleaning up the dishes, Simon took her hand and led her down the hallway, across the wide entrance hall and into his study.
“Ah, good, it’s all here,” he declared as he walked in, and following his gaze, she saw several unopened boxes.
“What’s all this?” she asked.
“You’ll find out,” he grinned, “starting with,” he paused, and checking the labels he found the one he was seeking and ripped open the top. “This one.”
Reaching inside the carton, he pulled out a large white gift box and handed it to her. Opening the lid and separating the white tissue, she stared down at what appeared to be a black cashmere sweater, but lifting it out, she saw it was a unique design.
“It’s going to be chilly in the dungeon, and until it warms up down there I don’t want you to be cold,” he explained, “and besides that, it’s, well, you’ll see.”
Holding up the garment, she realized it buttoned across her clavicle and under her rib cage, but if she wasn’t wearing a shirt, her breasts would be completely exposed.
“Ingenious,” she exclaimed.
“There’s more,” he urged.
Reaching inside she found matching thigh-high cashmere leggings with wide elastic bands at the top, and a pair of thick woolly socks.
“When am I going to put this, uh, outfit on?” she asked, a cheeky grin on her face.
“Right now,” he winked back, “while I take the rest of these boxes down. I’ll be back in a minute to get you.”
Picking up the packages, he carried them out and headed to the antique French lift, and as Belle heard the clanging of its closing door, she began to change. By the time he returned she was dressed, and while the outfit may have been designed for warmth, it was also a sensual and compelling invitation.
“You look…” he growled, moving towards her.
“That’s how I feel,” she breathed.
Moving quickly across the room, he wandered his hands across the exposed parts of her, leaving a trail of goosebumps and a warm yearning between her legs, then taking her hand he led her across the room, pulling the lever that opened the secret door in the wall. Picking up the flashlight just inside the darkness, he illuminated the passage way, and they began to move carefully down the stairs.
Reaching the landing he stopped,
and placing the flashlight on the floor, abruptly turned to her, and gripping her arms walked her backwards, pinning them against the cold, concrete wall. Belle’s pulse quickened, her breathing became a series of gasps, and when he dropped his lips, kissing her neck, she moaned loudly, squeezing her thighs together in need.
Fueled by her fervent response, he lowered his lips to her cold, puckered nipples, sucking hungrily. She whimpered longingly as his mouth devoured her, his hands still holding her still, then as abruptly as he’d begun, he released her and stepped away.
Breathlessly Belle opened her eyes and stared at him through the ghostly light of the flashlight’s beam. He held her look for just a moment before wordlessly pulling the lever that opened the rock wall, revealing the stairwell down to the dungeon. It had been a while since he’d brought her this way, usually opting for the French lift, and the mysterious passageway and hidden stairs still held their eerie fascination, but shaky from his unexpected assault, she was more focused on the wet hunger between her legs than the centuries-old, secret passageway.
Picking up the torch, he sent the beam down to light her way, and she carefully walked down the ancient steps to the bottom, where she found the door into the dungeon already open, and as she moved inside she saw the boxes waiting by the bed.
The large room was illuminated by the soft glow of the overhead recessed lights, and she could feel a gentle warmth flowing through the air. The many heaters were on, but it was an expansive area that would take time to warm, and she was grateful for the comfort of her sexy clothing.
Rolling the bookcase back in place to cover the opening, Simon moved across and took her hand.
“First, we must talk,” he softly proclaimed,”let’s sit on the bed.” Climbing on to the mattress, he leaned back against the headboard, settling her next to him. She had thought he would simply take charge as he always did, and the change in his routine heightened her curiosity.
“Have you read anything about positions?” he asked.
“Do you mean things like kneeling with my hands behind my head and so forth?”
“Exactly. Today that’s what I’m going to teach you, some positions.”
“Yes, Sir,” she murmured, not sure what else she should say.
“In one of those positions, I will ask you to surrender to me in a way you haven’t before,” he warned slowly.
The gentle butterfly wings began to flap, and she leaned against him for support.
“May I ask-?”
“No, it will just happen,” he replied, “and I’ll instruct you to relax and surrender, but remember, you’re not obligated to do anything. Everything you agree to is something I’ll treasure, but if you’re nervous, or don’t want to continue, all you have to do is tell me.”
“You mean, like a safe word?”
“Yes, but if you say to me, Simon this is making me uncomfortable, of course I’ll stop, but having said that, would you like a safe word?”
“Maybe. I trust you completely, but maybe, if we’re venturing into unknown territory it might be a good idea,” she nodded.
“I agree. What’s it to be?”
“I don’t know,” she sighed.
“Let’s keep it simple. Orange for caution, and red for stop.”
“Perfect,” she smiled, though her racing heart didn’t slow a beat.
“The last thing,” he continued, “is, hmmm, I’ve never had this conversation before so I’m not sure where to start.”
She sat still and silent, waiting for him to gather his thoughts, her nervous excitement growing.
“My ultimate goal for us, is that I will become your Master,” he breathed, his eyes penetrating hers, “but I will never call you my slave. For me, a slave is a person with no say, no will, and that isn’t how I see you and not something I would want, but being your Master means you belong to me, I mean, really belong, but to get there, to reach that intense intimacy, that’s the magic.”
“I, uh, understand,” she breathed.
“When you call me Sir, it just flows out of you, correct?”
“Yes,” she nodded.
“You don’t call me that simply because I have told you to, you call me that because you feel it. That’s what will happen when you call me Master. It will happen naturally, and when it does it will be the moment you will truly belong to me, and we will have crossed that line. It comes from you, Belle, it doesn’t come from me.”
“Sir,” she whispered, “I feel so…I can’t explain it.”
“Come here,” he crooned, engulfing her in his arms. “This is a special day, a special moment, of course you feel…emotional…” just as I do.
He let a few minutes pass before breaking his hold, then moving his lips to hers, he kissed her, a sweet, loving, warm kiss that helped to calm her thundering heart.
“Time to get started,” he smiled, and taking her hand, climbed off the bed and led her to the center of the open space in front of his throne-like chair.
“Stand here, feet about two feet apart, hands behind your back, eyes lowered,” he said firmly. “This is position number one.”
“Yes, Sir,” she softly replied.
“From this point on, no talking unless I ask you a direct question.”
She heard him walk away, then the sound of a box being ripped open, some rustling of plastic, and his footsteps as he returned and stood behind her.
His fingers danced across her cheeks before taking her wrists, and holding them at her waist, the open palm of his free hand slapped repeatedly. She kept her balance, and bit her lower lip to keep from squealing, but when his spanking hand moved around and cupped her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples, she could not contain a deep, longing moan.
“I’m going to place a collar around your neck. Please hold up your hair.”
It was something she’d fantasized about many times, and as the leather touched her neck she closed her eyes, sinking into the moment. She could feel him buckling it in the back, and a hot shower of longing washed over her, a longing to drop on her knees before him. She heard the snap of the leash as he attached it at the front, then a gentle tug, and opening her eyes she found he was standing in front of her.
“When I tug, you look up at me.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered.
“Kneel, knees apart, hands behind your neck. This is position two.”
Carefully she lowered herself down, and once settled, he presented the leash to her mouth.
“Hold this between your teeth and stare at your tits.”
Biting into the leather was oddly and intensely satisfying, and she sighed, loving the soft, rich texture, but her calm lasted only seconds as her eyes fell on the approaching end of a long, thin crop, whose tongue touched her nipples before lightly caressing them with a teasing, titillating, flicking motion. It was mesmerizing to watch, but when it lifted a few inches, she knew what was coming. Swatting down, it blasted a hot sting through her breast, and she bit down on the leash, grateful for its presence.
“Very good, Belle,” he murmured, moving the crop to its waiting twin.
It flicked and teased, and she shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the flicking to stop and the swat to hit, but she wasn’t permitted the luxury.
“If I wanted your eyes closed, I would have told you to close them, or placed a blindfold across them,” he scolded. “I believe my instruction was clear, and when I said watch your tits, that’s what I meant.”
Moving behind her, lifting the crop he struck a stinging blow, landing it against the center of her bottom, eliciting a loud yelp of pain.
“You do exactly what I tell you, when I tell you, nothing more, nothing less,” he finished sternly.
The reprimand sent a deep heat through her sex and a fresh wave of submission through her soul. Simon’s demeanor and attitude had deepened, and she was beginning to understand what he’d meant when he’d told her he wanted to take the two of them to a different level. This Simon was demanding and strict; he exp
ected nothing but absolute and complete obedience, and she loved it.
Stepping in front of her, he placed the tongue against the unpunished nipple, and she watched, mesmerized, as it flicked lightly, then slapped down. Again she bit into the leather and winced with the sting, but when his fingers touched and fondled the tender, keening puckered nubs, she sighed heavily, and in spite of the biting sting across her backside, she fell into the warmth of his comforting caress.
“Drop to your hands and knees,” he directed, “arch your back and raise your chin.”
Immediately dropping down, her tits tingling and her ass burning, she could feel the heavy wetness between her legs, and hoped desperately he would touch her there, and bring her pleasure before more punishment.
“Spread your knees,” he instructed, fueling her hunger. “You are now in position three.”
As he walked around her, she could imagine how she looked; the black leather leash between her teeth, the black cashmere stockings up to her thighs, the same black cashmere covering her back down to her waist, framing her naked pink bottom, boasting its single red stripe, and she felt an unexpected sense of pride.
“Yes, you look divine,” he purred as if reading her mind, “and you feel divine, don’t you?”
Unable to speak with the leash in her mouth, she nodded her head.
“Give it to me,” he said gently.
Reaching down he picked up the black leather cord, patiently waiting as she opened her mouth to release it.
“You may speak. You feel divine, don’t you?” he repeated.
“Divine, yes, Sir,” she managed.
“And hot?”
“Ooooh, so hot, Sir,” she moaned, wriggling her hips.
“Let me check…” he muttered, moving behind her.
To her great relief he dropped his hand between her open legs and cupped her pussy, then squeezed gently before sliding his fingers into her velvet slit.
“Yes, very hot, very wet, very needy. This suits you, Belle, being so controlled.”
His teasing fingers tantalizingly toyed, and she squirmed against them, silently begging for more. He gave her more, but only for a moment before stepping away.
The British Billionaire Bachelor, Act Three Page 11