Spice Box: Sixteen Steamy Stories

by Raine Miller

  “Arrangement?”

  “Submitting to me, pleasing me—I would like it very much to have you submit to me. I’ve tried to deny it, but the simple truth is that I want you regardless of the past.”

  I knew then that this wouldn’t be about love, whether I was falling for him or not. At least not this part—this moment. This would be about submitting, nothing more and nothing less. And that’s what I wanted. I realized that he needed this perhaps even more than I did. I didn’t care that he couldn’t love me just yet. It was a revelation that I accepted the baggage that came with his past because I felt more alive than I’d ever felt, every time he touched me.

  “Okay,” I said, looking down at my feet as Tessa had instructed.

  “Okay?”

  “Yes. I want this. I want you. I want you to fuck me.”

  He walked across the room to the armoire and pulled a towel from the bottom shelf. When he returned he wiped the remaining blood from my legs. He looked down at me and then released my wrists from the cuff restraints that had restrained me to the chair.

  “Kneel.” He pointed to the floor in front of the queening stool.

  Obediently, I knelt at his feet.

  “Now hold out your hand.”

  I held out my hand and he grasped it, turning it palm up. So fast that I didn’t even see him move, he brought the riding crop down, swatting it across my palm. I was surprised it didn’t hurt—it only stung.

  “Does that hurt?”

  I shook my head and my mouth felt dry.

  “Stand up.”

  Remembering what Tessa said, I kept my eyes on the floor as I rose to my feet.

  “Good. Now walk over to the bed. Stand and spread your legs hip-width apart.”

  I obliged, feeling a little scared and excited at the same time. This was the single most erotic thing I’d ever experienced. Arie walked over to the armoire and removed a pair of handcuffs from its depths. He strode across the room, standing between me and the bed. He set the riding crop on its surface.

  “Hold out your hands in front of you. Side by side.”

  When I did, he secured the cuffs around my wrists. The steel felt cold, yet made my skin feel hot and prickly. Arie crouched in front of me like a jungle cat. He trailed the riding crop down my navel and then down even further, across my swollen clit. I quivered at the feel of leather brushing my most intimate area. Rising from the floor, he trailed the riding crop around my midriff as he circled around me. Without warning he flicked the riding crop just below my bottom and I felt the sting across my pussy. Its bite sent fire through every nerve ending and brought tingling shockwaves of pleasure. It doesn’t hurt. He circled around my front and whipped the riding crop across a nipple. Unexpectedly, I let out a moan.

  “Hush,” he said in a whisper that brushed my ear as he walked around me again.

  Arie pushed me down onto the bed. I landed flat on my stomach with both arms stretched and cuffed in front of me. He used the riding crop to guide my legs so they were spread further apart. I felt the sting of the riding crop under my bottom and across the swollen folds of my pussy again. This time I anticipated the waves of pleasure that followed as I felt heat trail down my thighs. He hit me again across my ass.

  “Please…” I moaned.

  “Please what?”

  I needed release. I needed to feel him inside of me. He trailed the riding crop from the base of my neck, down my spine, and stopped just above my ass. Slowly, he trailed licking bites with the riding crop up my thighs, and this time when he hit my clit, I cried out. I could feel the wetness between my legs.

  “Feel good?”

  “Yes,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

  “Yes what?”

  My mind went blank. I knew the response he was looking for, but in the haze of pleasure I’d forgotten Tessa’s instruction. He bent down close to my ear and he smelled musky and masculine—a complete turn-on. “You will address me as sir.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m going to fuck you now.”

  “Oh, please, yes…sir.”

  He laughed.

  I heard the zipper on his jeans as he unfastened his pants and with one thrust I felt him inside me. He thrust again and again, his face at my neck where I felt his breath, hot and heavy. I could feel him bury deep inside of me as he fucked me from behind, my body bent over the side of the bed.

  His fangs penetrated my shoulder, and I could feel my pussy clench around him in an earth-shattering release as the pleasure-pain sent me over the edge. Arie followed, disengaging my shoulder, and I felt his final release as he plunged deeper inside of me. His weight felt like lead on top of me and he stayed like that for a few minutes, resting inside of me. I felt a warm gush roll down my thighs when he pulled out of me. I pushed myself off the bed and turned to sit on the edge. Arie unbuckled my cuffs and I stretched my arms out, rotating my hands.

  “Did I hurt you?”

  I gave him a reassuring smile. “No.”

  He reached forward and brushed an escaped tendril of hair out of my eyes. I should’ve felt tired but I felt energized and alive. Still fully dressed, Arie zipped his pants. I had wanted to feel his skin against mine and for him to hold me. I padded barefoot across the cool marble, retrieving the pile of my clothes heaped behind the queening stool where Tessa had kicked them.

  I pulled my shirt over my head and threw on my jeans. All the while Arie watched me, almost possessively, and I felt my cheeks flush. I finally knew how to keep from having visions. Pain. Pleasure. And a supernatural bond. All combined and rolled into a confusing swirl of emotions that I didn’t have time to process. Sliding my army satchel over my shoulder, I headed for the door, following Arie’s lead. He opened the door for me. I looked back into the room over my shoulder. Holy hell! Never had I experienced something so hot in my whole life.

  CHAPTER 14

  I woke up alone and rolled onto my back, staring at the ceiling. Part of me still couldn’t believe everything that had happened. But the things I wanted to try, that I wanted to learn, didn’t surprise me. They didn’t even give me pause. Not after the night I’d spent submissive to his will. Every muscle felt strained and knotted up, but I wouldn’t have traded the soreness for anything. In fact I wanted more, much more.

  The sex was great. Better than great. It just wasn’t the only thing I wanted. The pouring rain outside the window made me want to pull the covers over my head and stay there all day. I would have if Arie would stay in bed with me. Regardless of wanting to curl up, I needed to pick up my paycheck and work schedule for the following week. And finding Katarina was priority number one.

  I stretched languidly across the sheets before crawling out of bed. Finding my pajama bottoms on the floor where I’d kicked them, I pulled them up my legs, feeling the full effect of the workout Arie had given me the night before.

  Arie stood on the balcony watching the rain when I came downstairs. I’d already started to get used to where he kept things in the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. Sitting at the breakfast bar, I heard the door to the balcony open. Arie seated himself on the stool next to me.

  “Are you working today?”

  I shook my head. “No, just picking up my paycheck and my schedule.”

  “Maybe I should send Victoria with you.”

  I knew he was concerned because Katarina had it in for me. She’d killed a young girl and put a woman in the hospital. I was afraid. It wouldn’t be very smart if I wasn’t but I didn’t want to Arie to know that it was getting to me. That would only make him worry more.

  “I’ll be fine.” I lied before taking a sip of coffee.

  “Maybe that’s better. Victoria can help me track. I called her while you were still sleeping. I’ll call her back and take her with me. But I really think it’d be better if you stayed here and let me pick-up your check.”

  “I can do it. Don’t worry about me.”

  Arie frowned. “I can’t help it.”<
br />
  “I have to get my paycheck and my schedule for next week. I really don’t need Victoria swinging by the coffee shop with Luna either. I’m sure she has better things to do than babysit me.”

  “I told you I can take care of it. I can pick up your check and dazzle him in regards to your schedule.”

  “Dazzle him? No, I had a migraine after our date and I know you pulled that on me. Marshall may have caused me the occasional migraine but I still wouldn’t wish that on him.”

  “It would be safer if you stayed here.”

  I couldn’t deny that Arie was right. But I hated the idea of hiding in fear, even if that was the smart thing to do. “I can’t hide out in your loft forever. Last night was fun and all, but outside the bedroom I’m not someone you can just order around.”

  Arie arched an eyebrow in amusement. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to sound firm, but my confidence wavered. So I took another bite of cereal to cover my discomfort. “You can whip me senseless if you want to, but I’m still going to the Coffee Grind.”

  “I could just tie you to the bedpost.”

  “You’ll have to be more creative than that. I’m very flexible and you’d be surprised at what I can get out of.”

  “Oh, I can be very creative, Holly.” A smile played at the corners of his mouth.

  I gulped. “Please, I’m not trying to be unreasonable. I appreciate your offer to pick up my check but I just need to pretend for a while that there’s not a murderous vampire on the loose. I need something normal to distract me from all this.”

  Arie sighed. “You make me want to introduce caning into our relationship, or at the very least a gag for your smart mouth.”

  I had absolutely no idea what to say to that. My face turned crimson just thinking of all the wonderfully sexually degrading positions he could put me in while bound and gagged. It might not be a bad idea. But if we ever messed around in the loft and I let out a scream his neighbors might take it the wrong way.

  “Fine,” he said. He took a key out of his pocket and slid it across the breakfast bar toward me. “I had a spare made. Just be sure that you call me when you get back to the loft.”

  “I will.” As if I have a choice.

  ***

  I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose as I drove Arie’s ostentatious gift over to the Coffee Grind. Stopped for a red light, I sipped my coffee from a Thermos. Mrs. Ellis always used to say, “It keeps hot stuff hot and cold stuff cold. But how does it know?” Just thinking of her made me smile. Last time I had seen her had been Christmas last year, but I’d go down this summer for my birthday. The bitter warmth from my coffee and thinking of her comforted me when so many things in my life were changing.

  The rain had downgraded to an annoying drizzle and a flash of gold appeared through the misty haze. A tacky blonde with big hair walked down the sidewalk up ahead. Her sleazy gold shirt reminded me of the 80s. That’s strange. She had the same ethereal face as the woman in the forest from my dream. Except this woman could have been Madonna’s trashier stepsister, only not as well-preserved.

  She ducked under an awning and stepped into a shop. The sign above read: Rue’s Attic – Goddess & Goth, Thrift & Gift. The store must be new. I’d been down this street a zillion times but never saw this place before. Curiosity got the better of me, and when the light turned green, I pulled into an empty space a few doors down from the storefront. I pulled my suede flap coat around me to seal out the dampness. A bell chimed when I entered the pungent shop.

  The front of the store had stands with handmade soaps, aromatherapy oils, incense, jewelry, and statues. Heady incense mixed with the fragrance of the dried herbs that hung overhead. In the middle of the store stood a row of bookcases, back-to-back, with an aisle down the middle. Various books on goddess traditions lined the shelves. Next to the bookcases were two comfy-looking chairs on either side of a coffee table. A customer seated in one sipped a steaming beverage from a mug while turning the pages of a book with yellowing pages.

  Beyond the sitting area, the store changed to a thrift store of sorts. Clothing-lined racks ranged from hippie swirled skirts to spikey punk bracelets to fishnets and Gothic garb that I’d seen downstairs at the Hellfire Club. An array of sex toys stood discreetly to one side of a cash register. But my attention was drawn to the tapestry hanging behind the counter.

  The life-like tapestry reminded me of photorealism, and looked just like the forest in my dream, except under the tree a stood a winged figure illuminated in a soft glow. She looked like a pixie, but more authentic than the cartoonish image of Tinkerbelle. A young woman leaned on the glass case where the cash register sat and stifled a yawn. The beaded curtain covering a doorway to the back swayed when the woman I had followed stepped through. Her face seemed to brighten when she saw me standing there.

  “I know you,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound ridiculous. I didn’t want to tell her that I’d seen her in a dream.

  “Of course you do. And I know you.”

  I didn’t expect that response. “How do you know me?”

  “Holly, I’ve waited for this moment my whole life.”

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I knew your mother.”

  “Really? How?”

  “She was my dearest friend, and I’m your godmother.”

  I didn’t know what to say. The shock left me speechless. I wanted to ask her a thousand questions but I couldn’t seem to get my mouth to cooperate with my brain.

  “Won’t you have some tea with me?” she asked.

  I wanted to believe this stranger could tell me about my mother, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. “I would like that.”

  I followed her through the beaded curtain. Two chairs accompanied a round table covered with a satin tablecloth, and on top of it sat a deck of tarot cards. The woman pulled down two mugs from a cupboard. She poured tea from a kettle on a stove on the other side of the room, which appeared to be a makeshift break area. Placing the steaming mugs on the table, she sat and I hesitated before I sat in the chair opposite her.

  “So you’re my godmother…” I didn’t want to come right out and ask for some kind of proof.

  She nodded. “My name is Rue, and I grew up with your mother. My mother and your grandmother were good friends—had been good friends since they were children.”

  I’d tried to get information about my mother and my grandmother but my records were sealed when the Ellis family adopted me. They only knew what the caseworker had told them. That she had never claimed me. “I never knew my grandmother.”

  “Yes, well she’s a difficult woman. I think she still lives near Lake Springfield, but I haven’t talked to her in years.”

  When all this was over and Katarina had been dealt with, part of me wanted to pay her a visit. It warred with the other part of me that felt anger and betrayal that she had never wanted me in the first place. “Why didn’t she adopt me?”

  “I wish I knew. You would have to ask her yourself. I do know that when your mother died it broke her heart.”

  I stared down into my tea as if it could divine an answer. I wondered if my grandmother blamed me for her death, since she died in childbirth. God knows I had my own feelings about it. “I had a dream about you.”

  “Yes, I know. I sent it to you.”

  A dark look passed over her face. It seemed like something made her nervous. It warred with the otherwise serene woman sitting across from me. The apprehension in her face vanished as if she refused to think about it.

  “How? And why? Why now? If you were so close to my mother how come I’m just meeting you?”

  “I was two years older than your mother. She asked me to be your godmother when she got pregnant,” she said with a sigh. “Actually, I wanted to adopt you, but no one is going to let an eighteen-year-old with no income adopt a baby. I sent you the dream because I had a premonition. I’ve been looking for you. The only thing I knew for certain is that y
ou were in Chicago. I opened Rue’s Attic a year ago when I moved back here, hoping someday I’d find you.”

  “Seeing your store...maybe I could ask you something. I don’t think you’ll look at me like I’m crazy. Someone told me that the Sight runs in families…”

  “Usually it does.”

  “Why do I have visions?”

  “There is more to you than just the Sight, my dear. You’re a witch, and Celtic magic runs deep in your veins. You are descended from one of the Five Royal Tribes of Wales.”

  My muddled brain tried to wrap itself around this revelation. “Wait, I’m descended from Celtic royalty?”

  “Yes, and your grandmamma and my mother were in a coven together back in Springfield.”

  “My visions have been getting worse. More vivid. Instead of watching, it’s like I am the person I’m watching.”

  “With age your powers can mature.”

  It made sense. I remember Arie telling me something similar about auras. That auras grew brighter before dimming near death.

  “You looked so different in my dream. If you sent it to me, why be so mystical and cryptic about it?”

  She looked down and it seemed like something was bothering her. “You’d have to figure that out for yourself. You’re the one who interpreted it that way. The subconscious mind is a powerful thing.”

  “You’re a witch too, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, and I have something I want to give you.”

  She walked across the room and pulled a small wooden box from a shelf. Rue pushed it across the table toward me. I opened the box and pulled out a silver chain with a pendant dangling from it. The pendant looked like silver or white gold, but I couldn’t be sure, and it depicted an intricate maze bordered in woven Celtic knots.

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

  “It belonged to your mother. It’s a protection amulet.”

  It brought tears to my eyes that I finally had something of hers. “I wish I had the chance to know her. Do you have a picture of her?”