Black Edge

by Charlotte Byrd

  There are also books everywhere. Besides the vast library, there are books on practically every end table and console table. Much to my surprise, a number of them are novels.

  “Have you read this one?” He points to A Widow for One Year by John Irving.

  “Actually, John Irving is one of my favorite authors,” I say. “Have you read his latest, In One Person?”

  “Yes, I have. It’s exquisite,” he says, running his fingers along my forearm as I thumb through A Widow for One Year. “What kind of books do you read?”

  “All kinds actually. I like Irving, but I also like Jane Austen and Charles Dickens. And Anne Rice, and E. L. James, and Sylvia Day.”

  He smiles coyly.

  “What? You don’t think some of those fit in with the rest?”

  “Oh, no, not at all.” He shakes his head. “I love reading all sorts of books. But given how I like to spend the nights, I have a real taste for romance as well. More than your typical guy.”

  “I’d say that,” I agree. “Most don’t come anywhere near fiction, let alone romance. And the ones that do like to read fiction tend to end their education with Hemingway.”

  “Oh, but there’re so many amazing stories out there. I mean, what about Marquez, and De Sade, and Isabel Allende? Though I can enjoy a traditional male narrative yarn like those spun by Jim Harrison as well.”

  I shake my head in amazement.

  The authors he had just listed were my favorites as well. But after so many years of disappointment, I gave up on trying to convince my literary-inclined friends at Yale about the merits of Danielle Steel, E. L. James, and Stephanie Meyer, they allowed their snobbish attitudes to keep them away from fun and enticing contemporary fiction.

  And yet, here was this man, who actually got me. It’s like he understood where I was coming from on this innate level that I hadn’t even shared with him yet.

  He got me because he felt the same way.

  “I just don’t think we need to create these boxes between literary and popular fiction. I think it’s all about the goal of the book. Popular fiction is there to entertain and allow you to escape while literary fiction is there to challenge your thinking and show you a different perspective.

  Of course, the holy grail of any writer is to create a piece of work that’s both challenging and important, as well as relevant and popular. And if you ask a million critics about what that book is they’ll have a million different opinions. Mainly because what’s relevant and entertaining to one person tends to be something different for another.”

  I reach up and press my lips against his.

  I can't help it.

  When you hear someone say exactly what you’re thinking but in a way that’s way better than you could ever conceptualize in your mind, you just have to show him what that means to you.

  “What’s that for?” Aiden asks.

  “You’re just amazing, do you know that?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. I think you’ll have to show me.”

  “I’d love to,” I say.

  “Oh, really?” Aiden raises his eyebrows. “Well, in that case, I have a surprise for you.”

  He grabs my hand and leads me to the master bedroom. There, in the middle of the room, right in front of his spacious bed, I see a swing.

  “What’s that?” I ask, walking over and tugging on it. It’s attached to the ceiling and the swing itself is made of a soft but sturdy fabric, which feels a bit like silk.

  “This wasn’t here before,” I say.

  “No, it wasn’t.” He shakes his head. “I only take it out for special occasions. Like tonight.”

  “Hmm,” I say, licking my lips. I don't know how it works but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to find out.

  “Do you think you want to take it for a spin?” Aiden asks.

  I think about it for a moment. “Yes, I would, Mr. Black.”

  A serious expression comes over his face. He spins me around and unzips my dress.

  I like the force and the power with which he works. It feels like I'm almost a rag doll under his strong hands and I love being a rag doll.

  He slips the dress down, leaving me in a strapless bra and panties. Then he puts my hands up in the air and ties them to the top of the swing.

  The restraints are soft but strong. I tug on them but I can’t break free.

  “You’ve been a bad girl, Ellie,” Aiden says with all seriousness. Suddenly, he is completely within the character of Mr. Black, the man I met what seems like a century ago on his yacht. While Aiden is complicated and multi-textured, Mr. Black is not. He has razor-sharp focus on one thing - pleasure - and that’s what I crave most about him.

  “Yes, I have,” I say.

  “Yes, you have, what?” Mr. Black asks.

  “Yes, I have been a bad girl, sir,” I correct myself.

  I’ve always thought it was a little cheesy when I heard or read about women calling men sir in the sexual context, but something about it is ridiculously hot.

  I’ve given him control. He’s in charge, at least in this moment. There’s something completely freeing about it.

  “That’s better.”

  “Now, what am I going to do with you?” Mr. Black asks, walking around me and staring at my body.

  My heart skips a beat as I wait on his decision. Slowly, he undoes my bra and pulls down my panties. Then he bends down and puts one of my breasts into his mouth. He squeezes lightly and I feel a little shock of electricity rush through my body.

  While flicking my nipples with his tongue, he reaches in between my legs and pushes them apart. Then he sticks his finger deep within me and starts to massage me. My clit begins to throb.

  I’ve never had anyone touch me like this while I was standing up and the feeling is overwhelming.

  A few moments later, he presses something against my inner thigh. It’s a small vibrator, which he expertly maneuvers right onto my clit while pushing his fingers deep inside of me and not taking his mouth off my breasts. I start to moan immediately.

  Not being able to move my hands, and being forced to experience pleasure in such a restrained environment, makes my whole body pulsate with feeling.

  My calves start to cramp up and a warm soothing sensation from deep inside is about to erupt to the surface.

  “Oh, no, sweetie,” Mr. Black says, pulling away from me and slowing down. “You can’t orgasm so easily. What would be the fun in that?”

  “I can’t?” I plead. “But I want to. I really, really want to.”

  “Oh, I know, sweetie. But you didn’t call me sir. And you haven’t been teased enough quite yet.”

  I let out a little sigh as he presses the vibrator deep within me and my whole body starts to shake with pleasure.

  “Okay, I’m going to try something a little different now. Let’s see how you like it.”

  Mr. Black walks around and ties the loose ends of the fabric around my breasts and torso. He puts my arms behind my back and ties them behind as well.

  Then he drops me to the floor and ties the other loose ends of the swing around the upper part of my thighs, bending my legs back and tying my ankles to my thighs.

  Finally, he ties all parts of me together, connecting my thighs to my ankles to my torso.

  “Now, I’m going to pull you up until you’re parallel to the floor. Does that sound good?”

  “Yes, sir.” I nod, my body shivering in anticipation.

  Mr. Black pulls up and, within a moment, I’m suspended in mid-air completely parallel to the floor. My legs are wide open and my pussy is completely exposed.

  He spins me a little to get me just in the place that he wants me. Then he takes his fingers and presses them deep inside of me. When he moves them around a bit, I feel myself get completely wet.

  “Oh my God,” I moan in pleasure.

  I hear him kneel down somewhere behind me and press his lips to me.

  His tongue runs up and around my clit and then makes its way
deep inside of me.

  The sensation is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.

  The weightlessness that’s provided by the swing exposes and concentrates all attention on my pleasure center, making me give off moans unlike the kind I’ve ever given off before.

  A few moments later, Mr. Black swings me away from him and then back toward him. I love how the air feels as I push it out of my way with my body.

  On one of the times that I come back toward him, he enters me, sending my body into overdrive. Mr. Black holds onto the swing as he pushes in and out of me, filling me completely.

  “Oh, Aiden,” I moan.

  “Do you want to cum?” he asks.

  “Yes, I do. I really do, sir,” I mumble.

  There’s no way I could stop the orgasm if I wanted to. A familiar soothing sensation starts to pulsate through my body as I let myself go completely.

  “Ellie!” Mr. Black screams a few moments later as he pounds into me over and over.

  I feel myself closing in around his large cock, taking him deep within me. I want to stay in this moment forever.

  Chapter 30 - Ellie

  When another invitation arrives…

  The following day, I spend feverishly writing about how my unassuming main character gets auctioned off at a fancy yacht party to a very hot and wealthy eligible bachelor.

  I find myself writing so fast that I can barely keep up with my own thoughts. Somewhere in the middle of the auction scene, it hits me.

  I can’t wait to get to the good, juicy parts where they finally have sex. Just like everything else in the story, I still want to tell the truth when I write about what happens between my protagonist and her mysterious stranger.

  Why?

  Because the truth of what happened that night is more exciting and arousing than anything else I could make up.

  Of course, writing that first sex scene makes my mind go back to my own experience in the swing from just yesterday. It has been twenty-four hours since Mr. Black turned my world upside down and I’ve only just begun processing a little bit of what happened.

  The swing was quite a surprise, but the pleasure it provided was even more of a surprise. The constraints and restraints that I experienced, just being tied to the bed, was nothing like what I experienced last night - being suspended in air with my legs spread open for him to do with what he liked.

  And I liked, no loved, everything he did to me.

  Suddenly, a knock at the door breaks my concentration.

  “Oh my God, are you still working?” Caroline asks, rolling her eyes. “I swear, ever since you quit your job, you seem to be working 24/7.”

  That’s not entirely untrue.

  Ever since I quit a job I hated and started doing something I loved, work doesn’t really feel like work anymore. I actually wake up looking forward to writing.

  “Listen, will you take a break for a second? There’s a package out there for you.”

  I follow her into the kitchen.

  She hands me a bland Amazon looking package and I search my mind trying to remember the last thing I ordered from there.

  That’s the nice thing about Amazon, isn’t it?

  You order something and then forget about it completely. And when it arrives, a few days later, it’s like a little surprise.

  When I open the nondescript cardboard box, I find another smaller box inside. It looks familiar.

  It’s gold plated just like the one Caroline got before, with whimsical twirls around the edges.

  Except this time, instead of Caroline’s name, I see my name. Underneath my engraved name is tomorrow’s date. Eight p.m.

  The box has the same elegant knob with the same custom monogram inside made of foil in gold on silk emblazoned on the inside of the flap cover.

  “Oh my God, oh my God!” Caroline squeals with excitement. “Is this another invitation to a yacht party?”

  “Looks like it.”

  I look over the invitation once again, a little bit confused.

  Is this from Aiden?

  Is he having another party?

  Will there be another auction?

  It’s not that I expected him to stop hosting parties.

  I mean, parties have to be planned ahead of time and I’m sure this one was on the calendar way before we met.

  But why the hell am I getting another invitation?

  “Oh my God! You have to take me. I took you!” Caroline demands.

  “You want to go?” I ask. “But you didn’t even have a good time before. You didn’t want anything to do with that auction.”

  “I know, I know.” She waves her hand at me. “But the thing is that I sort of regret it. I mean, you had fun. You met Aiden. Maybe I can meet someone.”

  I shake my head.

  I don't really know how to wrap my mind around this.

  So, I do the only thing I can think of.

  I dial Aiden’s number. When he picks up, I ask him about the party.

  “I invited you because I thought we would have fun again. The party has been planned for months,” he says nonchalantly. I’m having a hard time reading him.

  “So, will there be an auction again?” I whisper into the phone. I don’t really know why I’m whispering.

  Caroline knows all about it, but I still feel a little timid about the whole thing.

  “Well, you’ll have to come to find out,” he says cryptically. “Listen, I’m in the middle of a meeting. I can’t talk now. See you tomorrow.”

  He’s just assuming that I’m going to come, but honestly I’m not sure. I mean, what’s the point?

  I don’t want to participate in another auction that’s for sure. I don't want some other man to get me.

  I just want to be with Aiden. And until I got this invitation, I thought that he just wanted to be with me, too.

  Suddenly, my phone rings again.

  “Hey, it’s me again,” Aiden says. “I didn’t think I ended that conversation very well. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine,” I mumble.

  “No, let me explain. I’m having another party. Yes, that’s true. And you got an invitation because I really want you to come. And I mean really. I don't want to be with anyone else. And I think we would have fun there.”

  I think about that for a moment.

  “Please come. It’s just going to be an over the top, elegant, crazy affair just like last time. And it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  “You really want me there?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m falling for you. And I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

  My heart skips a beat. “I’m falling for you, too,” I whisper.

  When I hang up, I turn around to face Caroline.

  “Oh my god, we’re going, right? This means we’re going?” she asks, jumping up and down.

  A small smile comes over my face.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” she squeals at the top of her lungs, grabbing me by the shoulders.

  “Okay, okay.” I push her away. “Yes, we’re going.”

  * * *

  Can’t wait to read more? Find out what happens to Ellie when she goes back to the yacht… One-click BLACK RULES now!

  We don’t belong together.

  I should have never seen him again after our first night together. But I crave him.

  I’m addicted to him. He is my dark pleasure.

  Mr. Black is Aiden. Aiden is Mr. Black. Two sides of the same person.

  Aiden is kind and sweet. Mr. Black is demanding and rule-oriented.

  When he invites me back to his yacht, I can’t say no.

  Another auction.

  Another bid.

  I’m supposed to be his. But then everything goes wrong….

  One-click BLACK RULES Now!

  * * *

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  Books by Charlotte Byrd

  Debt series (can be read in any order)

  DEBT

  OFFER

  UNKNOWN

  WEALTH

  About Charlotte Byrd

  Charlotte Byrd is the bestselling author of many contemporary romance novels. She lives in Southern California with her husband, son, and a crazy toy Australian Shepherd. She loves books, hot weather and crystal blue waters.

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  Copyright

  Copyright © 2017 by Charlotte Byrd

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.