by Christy Poff
"Reed,” she gasped.
"Chelsea, I..."
Together they moaned. His release filled her, her body on fire.
"I want you pregnant,” he growled. “If anything happens to me, I want you raising our family and I don't want Candace being alone."
"Anything, Reed,” she cried, moaning from the extraordinary sensations overwhelming her.
Reed kissed her neck than latched his lips onto the skin at the base of it by her shoulder. The feel of him suckling her neck sent more ripples of erotic and shocking pleasure through her.
"Reed!” she screamed.
"Hmmm?"
"Tie me up and fuck me again."
He eased his cock out of her, spun her around and put her body over his shoulder. Carrying her through the secret door to their playroom, he could still smell her distinct scent, his cock begging for more.
"How do you want to be restrained?” he asked.
"I don't care. Just hurry,” she begged. “Don't make me wait."
"I won't, Mistress."
True to his word, Reed tied her to the bed. He left her feet free, having definite ideas about what he intended to do. Going to a drawer in the nightstand, he pulled out an anal plug, inserted it and set it on pulse. Her body held it tightly while the sensations coursed through her.
She jolted when his tongue entered her, Reed drinking from her. Together, both efforts made her scream, the orgasm overpowering her. While her body shook, he tugged her nipple studs, sending more shock waves through her.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes,” she cried.
Reed drove his impatient cock deep into her body. While he held it in, he increased the pulse on the anal plug. Next he pulled a small chain from a velvet bag, dangling it in front of her.
"A diamond rope for my extremely magnificent mistress,” he said. “I've been waiting for the right time to give it to you."
While he talked, he clipped it to her nipple studs then tugged.
"My God!” she screamed, her body totally at his mercy.
Without words between them, Reed thrust into her again. His cock pounded her once more, his hot explosion filling her.
"My..."
Reed's lips covered hers, roughly kissing her while he held his cock inside her. She fought to hold him, his bonds securely holding her in place. Her fight drove him more, especially the movements of her breasts. With his emotions out of control, Reed fucked her again.
"Forgive me, please,” he cried out. His release exploded into her, her legs wrapping around him.
"I love you, Reed,” she cried.
"Mistress..."
"Harder,” she begged. Knowing his needs, her body wrapped around his but she needed this too. She wanted natural brute strength dominating her as only Reed could. Chelsea needed him.
"I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't. I need this as much as you do. I want you without anything holding you back. Please, Reed, fuck me senseless. Give me the child you want."
Reed obeyed her, fucking his wife until she passed out. He untied her hands then feathered kisses along each arm while massaging them. He saw the mark he'd left on her neck and winced. What the hell?
"Mmmm."
"Hello."
"Hi."
"Are you all right?"
"Wonderful."
"Did I hurt you?"
"No."
"I'm sorry about the mark on your neck."
"I'm not. I love being a branded woman."
"I love you, Chelsea."
"I love you, too, Hot Shot,” she said. “Do you feel better?"
"Knowing I have you in my life—definitely but the terror remains and will until she's out of our lives permanently."
"Promise me you'll let the police handle it and not do anything stupid. She's not worth going to jail over."
"But if she harms you in any way..."
Chelsea pulled his face to hers, her tongue tracing his lips.
"I love my knight,” she whispered.
They heard Candace stir then the nanny's soothing voice over the baby monitor. They took the back stairway up to their room where they both showered. Chelsea dressed in a blue silk blouse and black jeans then went to her daughter while Reed let the hot water ease his aching body.
"I will stop her—no matter what. I must protect Chelsea and our family,” he vowed.
* * * *
"I'll see you after work tonight,” Chelsea assured Reed before he left several days later to cover the remaining eight hours at another engine company in the North East.
"You got it,” he said, pulling her close and kissing her. She walked him to the door then watched him get into the Chevelle and drive off. Once he'd gone, she went upstairs to check on Candace, the cat following her.
In the bedroom, she put Candace in her infant seat and set it on the floor where she had several bags and gift wrapping waiting. She loved her daughter's eyes watching everything going on around her—the wonder of discovery.
Her cell phone rang. While she talked to her mother, she played with the baby, Candace content.
"Reed gets off around eight because he's covering a shift for another captain. Why don't I bring the baby over and we can have tea ... Good, see you in a bit."
She finished wrapping a stein for Reed then, after hiding the gifts, she straightened up and got Candace ready to go see her grandparents.
"Nancy, get what you need for the afternoon and maybe this evening."
"Yes, Mrs. Carrington."
"I'll meet you downstairs."
Chelsea got ready, dressing in a black velour running suit with a white tank top. She went downstairs to wait for her daughter so they could leave. The doorbell rang, Chelsea telling the maid she'd get it.
"Could you have the Lincoln brought to the front?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Chelsea opened the door to a florist deliveryman.
"Mrs. Reed Carrington?"
"Yes?"
"These are for you."
She signed for them, tipped the man and closed the door after he left. She put the box on the table opening it to find a dozen red roses. She pulled out the card and read it, smiling.
"Nancy, I'll be right back. Please ask the maid to put these in water."
"Yes, ma'am."
Chelsea went upstairs and straight to her closet. She pulled out one of Reed's favorite dresses—a little black dress with a black lace overdress plus the accessories. Throwing everything into a small overnight bag then laying the dress in a garment bag, she left the room and went back downstairs to join her daughter and the nanny.
When they left, Chelsea had a huge smile on her face.
As soon as she got to her parents’ home, she asked Madeline if she'd mind having an overnight guest.
"Who?"
"Your granddaughter,” Chelsea answered, devilment in her eyes. “Reed's got something planned for the evening."
"Of course,” Madeline said. “We love having her here. She brings new life to this old house."
"Thanks."
Hours later, Chelsea changed clothes, said goodnight to her daughter and good-bye to her parents.
"You look sharp,” Martin complimented as he walked her to the car.
"Thanks, Daddy."
They talked a few minutes before she left, the smile on her face growing.
* * * *
Jocilynne Sommersby carefully set the explosives—one on the second floor, another on the first in the center of the house and the last in the basement. She held the remote in her hand—wireless and compact.
She left the house to go to a restaurant around the corner, having a huge appetite. Revenge always did it to her only this proved to be her biggest endeavor yet.
Checking her watch, she went back to the house and waited.
"Let the party begin."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter 12
"Wow."
"I see you like."
"My daug
hter is one hell of a stunning woman."
"Thank you, Daddy, it's one of Reed's favorites."
She changed into the dress she'd brought with her to wear for Reed's surprise. A simple black sleeveless dress and, extremely low-cut, it showed off Chelsea's curvy body. Black lace covered the dress while adding long bell sleeves and scalloped edging at the hem with satin trim. She wore black pumps to complete the outfit.
Her father walked her to the car making sure she got in. She slid behind the wheel of Reed's Lincoln Town Car, putting her black velvet shawl on the seat next to her with her clutch. She kissed her father again then drove away from her parents’ Merion home and into the city and her husband's surprise evening.
* * * *
Chelsea parked the car down the street from the house she'd been told to meet Reed at. Knowing how he loved to surprise her, it didn't cross her mind that he had chosen a house on the next block over from the one he'd given her several months before.
She went up the steps to the front door, finding the door ajar. Gently pushing it open, she went inside.
"Reed?” she called as she closed the door and walked into the living room. Not seeing him, she turned and gasped as she stared down the barrel of a small but deadly pistol.
"I don't think so."
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"Getting what is rightfully mine."
"Look, this can be discussed without the gun."
"Very true, but I like the insurance it gives me."
"This has got to stop,” Chelsea said, trying to keep a handle on her fear. “You need help."
"You're right,” Jocilynne Sommersby agreed. “It will end tonight but I don't need help."
"You're a sick person, Jocilynne."
Rage crossed Jocilynne's face seconds before she backhanded Chelsea, taking her by surprise. Chelsea fell to the floor, her hair covering her face. Her hand went to her cheek where Jocilynne's hand had made contact trying to ease the sting of the attack. She felt dampness, seeing blood on her fingertips.
"Get up,” Jocilynne ordered.
"Why?"
"I have plans and they don't take place here. Now, get up,” she said, pulling the hammer on the small gun back.
Slowly, Chelsea stood. She looked at her attacker, glaring at her.
"Through that door and down the steps."
"You will not get away with this."
"Oh, but I will,” Jocilynne assured her, poking the gun into Chelsea's back.
Having no choice but to obey, Chelsea went down the steps, the sound of her heels echoing in the cellar of the old house. Her breath caught when she saw a man wearing tight leather pants and a leather hood standing to the side with his arms folded in front of his broad naked chest.
Jocilynne noticed her captive's gaze and snickered.
"Now, he's hot."
With a nod from his mistress, the huge man walked over to Chelsea then forced her to sit in an antique throne chair—a very heavy and unforgiving piece of furniture. Quickly and expertly, he strapped her into the chair—her wrists firmly on the armrests, her feet spread to the legs of the chair and a strap across her waist.
"There, now you won't go anywhere and I can set this aside,” Jocilynne said, placing the gun on one of the steps. She circled the man, tracing patterns over his muscular build then down the length of his professionally tanned body.
"Don't you wish you had this?"
"No, I have exactly what I want."
Jocilynne yanked his hood off, pulling him into a kiss—her finishing touch after her hand went to his crotch and squeezed.
"Thank you, Bruno. Your gift is in the envelope by the door."
"Thank you, Mistress.” Bruno climbed the steps and left. Once Jocilynne heard the front door lock engage, she turned her attention back to her captive.
"Ooh, now I'm hot."
"You're pathetic, Jocilynne."
"And you should mind your manners,” Jocilynne hissed.
"Lynne..."
"Don't call me that. Only my friends do and you most definitely are not one of them."
"Thank God for small blessings,” Chelsea said, waiting for another slap.
Jocilynne took out a photograph and showed it to Chelsea.
"You love what you have? Well, this proves you don't. He came to me one day last week and fucked me for hours telling me how bad you are in bed. That's hot, dontcha think?"
"Nice picture for a fake."
"This is the real thing, bitch."
"I know it's not real,” Chelsea stated firmly. The dead giveaway aside from the fact Reed wouldn't go near this demonic tramp was the fact the guy in the photo had no tattoo. Jocilynne had lost her bluff but Chelsea wouldn't tell her why. “Besides, my mother is a photographer and I can tell mock-ups."
"He's very good, you know,” Jocilynne went on, taunting her captive.
"Yes, I do,” Chelsea agreed.
"Then why do you have such a tacky wardrobe? He must hate this one."
"He bought it for me and he has excellent taste."
"That's up to debate since he married you."
"He knows prime when he sees it."
"But he had me first and he..."
"And he left your ass in some hotel room..."
Another slap, Chelsea's head spinning after her head hit the back of the chair. She groaned from the pain.
"Do you know how much that chair cost me?” Jocilynne asked, changing the subject abruptly.
"No and I don't care."
"You should. By the time this is over, it will cost me damn near a million dollars to get you out of my life."
"You could have walked away for a lot less."
"Sommersbys do not walk away."
"If your father's smart, he will this time."
"Shut up!” Jocilynne screamed.
"Hit a nerve?"
Jocilynne's rage took over. She attacked Chelsea, hitting her victim wherever her blows landed. She pulled back, Chelsea coughing.
"I wanted to have some fun with you but you've ruined it."
"Thank God for small blessings. Let me go and I won't say anything."
"Let you go? No way! I plan to see your world crash in on you while Reed is in my bed and unable to come to your rescue."
"What?” Chelsea asked, her body suddenly very cold.
"Chelsea Strawbridge Carrington—social outcast and society interloper—prepare to die because you will not walk out of here alive."
"You bitch."
"That's right and I always get what I want."
Before she left, Jocilynne had one more bit of fun with her victim. She went to Chelsea, lifted her head so their eyes met and kissed her, her tongue exploring her enemy's mouth.
"I've always wondered what trash tasted like."
She placed a ball gag into Chelsea's mouth, making sure the fit was a little tighter than it should be. The leather straps sat over the open cuts on Chelsea's face, causing more pain. Jocilynne leaned over, their eyes meeting seconds before she kissed her victim good-bye. Her final act before leaving—she ripped Chelsea's collar from her neck, wanting a souvenir of the evening.
"Cheap and ugly—I'd never collar my slave with something this tacky."
"Why?” she tried to say, the gag doing its job by silencing her. Jocilynne shoved her head back into the chair, glaring at Chelsea.
"Because I want him and what I want, I get. It's a privilege for those of us with money. I bought this house just for the fun of torturing you in it before I leave you to die."
Chelsea tried shaking her head, Jocilynne's grip strong and unrelenting.
"Good-bye,” she said, her heels on the hardwood steps the last thing Chelsea heard before the basement door closed and locked, plunging her world into darkness.
Hatred raged through Chelsea at the feel of Jocilynne's touch but the theft of her collar sent her emotions reeling. Reed's symbol of his possession of her life and this madwoman stole it from her, taking it with her as she
left the basement and Chelsea alone. The sight of it dangling from Jocilynne's fingers made her sick.
She tried to free herself but Bruno had securely fastened her to the chair. She tried to scream for help but couldn't. Jocilynne had succeeded in doing what she'd set out to do and Reed wouldn't be able to do a damned thing this time—no one could.
Help me...
* * * *
Jocilynne went upstairs to her room and checked the monitor for the basement appreciating the security analyst's suggestion for using a camera that could literally see in the dark.
"If you see movement in the basement, you have a better chance of getting out and notifying authorities,” he'd told her. If only he knew...
She enjoyed watching her captive tire herself while fighting for her freedom, one that would come to her after she no longer needed it.
She removed the tape from the VCR then left, taking it and the necklace along with the remote control for the explosives with her. Her next stop—Carrington House.
She arrived near seven thirty and made her way inside the house. The first obstacle she met was a cantankerous Siamese cat. She locked him in the pantry but not before the cat scratched her and tried biting her. She cursed the cat and his incessant howling.
"Shut up or I'll shut you up permanently."
She left the kitchen and headed upstairs to the master bedroom where she knew he'd go to change as soon as he walked in. Finding a chair in the shadows, she sat down and began her wait. While she did, she considered the house she sat in—Old Philadelphia at its best.
"Why the hell are you a fireman?"
She heard the clock chime eight and wondered where her elusive Reed was. Half an hour later, she heard someone moving around downstairs—her wait almost over. She pressed two buttons on the remote and smiled. In ten minutes, the first set of explosives would literally blow the roof off the house while the second one would explode five minutes after that. The third one in the basement would go off anytime after that, leveling the house on top of anyone inside it—one problem gone, hopefully two or more of Reed's pesky friends would be inside the building when it came down.
* * * *
Reed left the firehouse he'd been covering a shift at and headed home to Carrington House. An early shift, he couldn't wait to get home to his beautiful wife and daughter.