Jacob took her home that night and did everything he said he would. With her tied to the bed, he wandered her apartment making it clear by the noise he made that he was getting inside her life as far as he could go, opening drawers, rifling through her personal papers, examining her closets. Finishing his inspection of her living space, he inspected her, his pinching and probing so rude it hurt. An hour passed, she knew that because the clock chimed one a.m and she was still on her belly. And then, like that was a signal to get on with things, Jacob flogged her ass good, leaving marks on her behind before he was done, so days after she’d remember him. She didn’t know why she’d allowed such an invasion of her private space by this man she hardly knew, but as he said, he wanted to know her. This was one way.
Within two months they were living in his apartment and everything that belonged to her disappeared to somewhere she never learned. But that didn’t matter. She didn’t want anything anymore but him—and to write songs, a joy that seemed to soar when she was wearing his collar and serving his whims.
He was rarely brutal, only when he was actually punishing her. But he remained emotionally distant. He could contain her emotions, keep her out of her penchant for drama and tears. But he shared little of himself while asking everything from her—that is everything he wanted. The rest he couldn’t care less. It didn’t matter to him what she wrote her songs about, only that they sold. Over that, he was supremely excited. That pleased her because she liked seeing him pleased. When he wasn’t, he was dreadful with the punishments. Her ass bore the brunt of the beatings when he was angry with her. And he’d keep her tied for long periods of time afterward to make her humble. There was rarely sex involved in punishment, even if it often felt sexual in the end. He did use her as he wished, dominating her to fulfill her masochistic needs and his sadistic ones.
She thought it was paradise belonging to Jacob, until he changed … or so it seemed he changed. Maybe he never changed at all. Maybe he’d always been a hard-ass dominant. Perhaps she was the one that didn’t like what she was getting anymore.
The fourth year had been a rough one, until one day Jacob decided that she had to have her own apartment. He wanted other submissives in his and she wasn’t very interested in being part of a harem. She never said as much, she’d never do that. But there was something silent between them that suggested she’d be better off on her own. He even gave her plenty of money to decorate her own living space any way she liked—money wasn’t a concern as much as she was making from her songs. With Jacob’s interests elsewhere she enjoyed not having him watch her every move. Yet, she could feel herself losing something with so much independence. Perhaps she didn’t trust him anymore, though he’d given her no reason not to. He was simply less attentive.
She might have concluded that she wasn’t loved anymore, though she wasn’t sure that she ever was, just handily controlled.
Lying back inside the comfort of Sadie Holt’s couch, Eden’s hand slipped inside her robe. The hair on her pubis was curly but soft, her labia lips felt like a creamy confection, sticky and wet. One finger burrowing deep into the smooth velvet glided inside the opening. A second finger probed for her puckering anus, and with a bit of juice to soothe the way, pressed its way inside. The two finger fuck started simply, something raunchy to take the edges off her raw insides. But it built with force fast, so her hand was acting like a cock to her languishing sex. An ache drove her.
She had her clit between the fingers of her second hand. These motions were new ones. Jacob didn’t like her masturbating, but now she was free of him. Free as well to think what she wanted, about who she wanted think about. It didn’t surprise her that it was the man of the hour, Adam Cady, that appeared in her mind, though it surprised her how she imagined him. He was in her thoughts, behind her ear whispering as if he was really there. She saw herself before him, removing her clothes very slowly. Not a striptease with a little jiggle and grind, or a sensuous unveiling, but something cautious and tentative, like he was ordering her and she was embarrassed to reveal herself to him. When she’d showed him the marks on her breasts and shoulders the day before, part of her had been hotly aroused. She’d kept the feelings muted, thinking such things inappropriate since he was her lawyer and nothing more. She hadn’t seen a second’s arousal on his impassive face. She doubted he’d been anything more than incensed enough to believe what she’d said of Jacob, and moved to act. But then there was the way he knew the beating was voluntary. Like he knew much more about her than she’d told him.
In her fantasy she wanted to show herself to him. She wanted him to command the disrobing, to inspect her wounds. She wanted to be embarrassed and blushing, she wanted the trembling in her tummy. She wanted the sting of humiliation as she waited for some degree of approval from him, though she was smart enough to know she should anticipate none forthcoming. It would be a brutal confrontation, not physically, but emotionally.
She also imagined him loving her … the thought so sweet she was almost in tears thinking of his tenderness mixing with her body passions. It was a dreadfully dangerous thing to think and so she caught herself short of completing any climax with him in mind—erasing thoughts of him from her head.
Her fingers probed herself deeply, fucking harder still. She managed another finger in her anus, though it was awkward. If there’d been two cocks …
Torturing her clit and then her nipples, she thought of getting the clamps and tightening them in both places, but she was too close to a climax, way too far down the road to stop the hammering. The harder, the more she was pleased. A sideways glance and she saw her reflection in the face of Sadie Holt’s tall clock. Looking like a XXX movie she smiled, thinking of lights and cameras trained on her. As she burst free, try as she might to avoid the idea, it was Adam she was thinking of when she came—Adam walking in the door and watching her getting herself off like the slutty whore she was. With her whole groin gyrating into her hands, it ended much too quickly. She would have liked for the sensations to linger a while longer but the spasms suddenly burst free. For a while afterward her mind faded out as she toyed with her satisfied flesh. Then she watched her reaction to the act—the trace of guilt appearing in her expression—guilt for masturbating without Jacob’s consent—guilt for getting off with the thought of another man in her daydreams. Even if he was an impossible man, it was still Adam Cady, not Jacob, in her mind’s eye.
chapter five
Adam called at least twice a day and he brought her food when she needed it. He only wanted her out of Sadie’s apartment for short, well-supervised excursions. Drawing up new legal documents, he submitted them to the court ensuring that Jacob couldn’t sell off Eden’s things. He made sure all the locks were changed on her apartment and that the back entrance was as secure as he could make it. Then he had his detective, Mitch, watch the apartment to see when Jacob returned, which happened two days after he had her moved. The timing was excellent. Mitch reported that Eden’s former dom seemed flustered and angry when he left not finding her where he expected. Adam figured he’d be hearing personally from the man within a few days, and was surprised when that didn’t happen. Nearly two weeks later there’d not been one word from the man. Perhaps he had gotten the message. Yet Adam was still suspicious of both his client and her lawless, former lover.
***
The air was breathless. Not a breeze stirred in the humid night. As it grew more oppressive with each hour that passed, it was typical for July in the city. Thunderstorms threatened some distance away and the air was agitated, but there was no real relief. Just the intense electricity of a night too hot to enjoy.
Eden hated the air-conditioning. She took to Sadie’s patio for some relief, lying naked on a lounge while she listened to some old rock and roll, some Stones and Doors and Bob Dylan. She felt like dancing. Kicking back, getting a little drunk and wild. It had been days since she’d even left the apartment. Adam Cady was as confining as Jacob could be, only nicer. Still, he wasn’t screwi
ng her, hadn’t made even the tiniest sexual overture that would indicate any interest in her. She had to quit masturbating about the man. Too afraid to ask if he was married, she simply had to assume that he was, either that, or his sex drive was pretty slim, he simply didn’t like the S M scene. She didn’t have to get raunchy like that to have a good time, but then Adam wouldn’t know that about her because they didn’t discuss sex. Then too, he might just be impeccably professional and that could explain everything. If she wasn’t so horny, so in need of something … All this focusing on sex and Adam Cady was becoming obsessive.
The one good thing, her song writing hadn’t suffered. There were several pieces she expected would come together within the next few weeks. Adam promised they’d handle the contract negotiations without Jacob. Everything was changing in her life for the better, except for the fact that she’d given up a slice of herself that was painfully necessary. There was a need in her to be submissive to a man. This was not some inconsequential want, but something that she had to have. Adam, being as dominant as he was in every other area, satisfied part of the need. But ignoring the sexual side wouldn’t last forever.
In fact, it wasn’t lasting the night. Her body couldn’t be contained and raw thoughts appeared in head. She thought of Miss Angel taking care of her, but Miss Angel seemed aloof to her calls. Besides, she was sure Adam wouldn’t be happy if she took off to see the mistress. Then too, Jacob knew about the woman. Going into that neighborhood he might find her there. Dancing was her other thought—going out for a night on the town some place well away from the S M clubs. A few months before she’d discovered a bar in an out-of-the-way neighborhood where Jacob wasn’t likely to discover her. I was the perfect place for a few hours of harmless fun, and that was all she needed. It was a fair assumption that she could be back before Adam’s late night call, and he’d never know about her brief excursion.
Charged by the beat of the music, Eden didn’t feel as though she had a choice in the matter. This was a necessity of life and she was obsessed.
She found a short sexy skirt in her closet. One she’d brought with her, the stretchy kind that clings tightly to the hips. That in black, she chose a bright red halter for the top, and a pair of high-heel sandals for her feet. She spiked her hair nastily and made her face up starkly, painting her lips bright red as opposed to the pale color she often used. It had been some time since she’d been this provocative with her attire and it felt good just doing it for herself and no one else. She wanted to call Adam and invite him along. But what if he refused to let her go? No, what he didn’t know couldn’t come between them.
The nightclub was packed with dancing patrons moving to the beat of the heavy bass in a sea of pulsing vibration. Moving into the throng she was quickly caught up by a man that pulled her into the center of the crowd. She began to dance letting her body do what was natural. Her sense of time and place destroyed, what remained amid the mind-numbing noise deadened her senses to everything but the beat inside. Dancing, drinking, feeling deliciously lightheaded, when someone offered her a joint in the bathroom, she took several puffs letting the intoxication add to the fine mix.
Once she was back on the dance floor, she was a little more loose and a little more showy. Raising the tight skirt she bordered on indecent. Her breasts swayed back and forth, showing the insides of the tits in the plunging neckline of the red halter. Dancing in the unison with the steamy beat, she was in heaven—in one long lingering heaven as her partner’s hands began to comb her body, getting inside the halter to find her nipples and give them a sharp squeeze. Eden smiled at the man and accepted his offer for the slow dance that followed. Taking liberties with her shapely body, moving seductively against her, he was as bold as men usually were with her. Did she give him the impression that she was easy? Or did he instinctively know she’d submit to him with no hassles.
This guy liked pinching her nipples—either through the halter or directly reaching inside. It was an act that always set off bright firecrackers down below, and thoughts of other things—nastier things, like clamps and clothespins and pinchers and bondage. The excursion she took in her mind was an endless path through familiar territory. Could he feel that? This innocent partner. Or was he innocent at all?
Eden stayed with the blond-haired fellow long into the evening, deciding she liked his antics and his smile. He had a nice way of dominating her. And there was something in him she could trust, even if for just a night. Stepping outside for a breath of fresh air, they found the humid night stifling. The club stifling too, they decided to drive around the city and create a breeze of their own. His red Corvette was so sexy she almost wished she had long silky hair so it would blow in the wind and tickle her face.
“My name’s Geoff,” he introduced himself when they stopped at a traffic light.
“I’m Daisy, Daisy Morgan,” she replied, batting her eyelashes, her grin coy. It was nice to be someone besides herself again.
“So, Daisy Morgan, I’m betting you like things a little on the kinky side,” he remarked.
“What makes you think that?” she asked. She felt strange talking, she knew what she was saying but her words sounded wobbly.
“You like your nipples pinched hard,” Geoff explained.
“Ah, I see.”
His lips drew up into a perverse smile.
“So, what do you say, there’s a club up the street that could be fun. Want to give it a try?
“Club?” she wondered which one, though she really didn’t have ask. She knew the neighborhood. Though it wasn’t the place she had met Jacob, she’d been there several times with him—a leather joint that catered to the straight S M crowd. Not much action happened there, but there was lots to see and people to meet if you were interested in kinky fantasies and fetishes. It would have been just her cup of tea if she wasn’t worried that Jacob might show up.
“I’m not so sure,” Eden managed to slur a few more words together, though it was getting more difficult to talk.
“Hey, it’s harmless, I’ve been there a dozen times,” he assured her as though she was a novice to such things. “It’ll give you a great jolt, I swear.”
Already helping her out of the car, his arm went around her waist so tightly she knew she couldn’t change her mind even if she wanted to. As clearly as she could recollect, this was not Jacob’s night to party. Maybe one night in a hundred he’d decide to cruise the place … maybe one in hundred …
There was a wild crowd inside. Several dozen bikers joined the more upscale group of fantasy seekers who wore expensive polished leather. Eden was glad she didn’t recognize any faces as they moved inside. There was a comforting feeling in this atmosphere so close to her sexual home. She sobered a little with the first whiff of fresh leather and the first glance at a sincere dominant mastering his sexy slave.
Unfortunately her own leathers were still in her apartment. She longed for the feel of them tight around her midriff and waist. She wanted cuffs about her wrists and a collar closely hugging her neck. It had been two weeks since her last session with Jacob and she longed to be bound and flogged, to feel punishment assuage the guilt that regularly collected in her twisted psyche. She wanted to feel purged from that anxious brew inside her. The dancing was great, but to be strung up, whipped and played with until she screamed for mercy, that would be heaven. The young man with a hand in her halter and another up her skirt would get the shock of his life knowing the depths of her submissive inclinations. She let the thought of it take her away.
Beginning to believe that she was safe from worry in this familiar territory, Eden was suddenly jerked back to reality when she recognized a record producer and a good friend of Jacob’s standing some distance from her, his eyes focused directly her way.
“You know I think it’s time to split,” she whispered to Geoff, her mouth close to his ear so he could hear her above the noise.
“What’s the matter?” he replied annoyed.
“There’s a guy her
e I’d like to avoid,” she explained.
“Then avoid him,” he shrugged as he pulled her close to him, his grip tightening forcefully around her.
“Please,” she tried pleading.
“Don’t get paranoid. Nothing’s going to happen.” Suddenly taking her hand in his, he led her from the main lounge into another club room at the back of the place. Smaller than the other room, it was packed with people, and they managed to find a place well away from the eyes of Jacob’s friend. Unfortunately, that meant she was trapped with no way out save the door she came in. She could only hope that there was a telephone in the bathroom, or a window that let out on the alley.
Standing by the wall, they had another drink. Then Geoff turned to the couple beside him who looked as strange to this world as he was. The man in a business suit, the woman in a short cocktail dress—the kind you see at fancy dinner parties—were unusual for this crowd. And yet, the laughing redhead was all too comfortable in the surroundings to be a total novice. While Geoff talked, Eden waited anxiously with her back to the door, assuming that she wouldn’t be discovered. Praying for that outcome, she was instantly overcome with fear when she felt someone behind her, lips drawing close to her ear. The blood drained from her already pale face, her heart beat a thousand times a minute, and her hands turned cold and clammy.
“You’re pretty ballsy coming in here thinking Jacob wouldn’t have his scouts out for you?” she heard Rye’s familiar voice, low-pitched and gravelly. Too bad her date wasn’t paying any attention to her, or he’d have seen the bald man behind her holding both of her wrists in his, while his other hand held her neck tightly. She couldn’t say a word. “You stay right here, lovey, Jacob will be by real soon to get you.”
She shook him off, but Rye had delivered his message and he was already moving away. Panic struck, she fled to the bathroom though there was still no way out—not a window anywhere around. At least, there was a phone. Dialing the only number that promised any kind of rescue from her predicament, she heard Adam Cady’s voice on the other end.
Adam & Eden Page 4