R.S.V.P.

by Madeleine Oh

  As her wild, crashing climax eased, Alan grasped her shoulders, pumping deep and fast. Jane was too wild with her own climax to notice the full force of his assault. His grunts echoed in her ears, his hands held her fast. She could not move if she cared to. Alan had her, pinioned on his erection, speared, penetrated, marked. Her body leapt again. Taking a second, even bigger climax on the fading ripples of the first. Her cries and shouts filled the room. She thought Alan came too, but she wasn’t sure, couldn’t be. Her mind, fogged out, caught up in the pleasure, his power, the grip of his hands on her shoulders, and the force of his cock within her, and the succession of little climaxes that shook her very soul.

  Alan’s hands gave up their grip. He sagged against her. She lay limp on the mattress, sweat between her breasts and a river between her legs. He stroked her hair. “I love you, Jane. You’re all my dreams come true.”

  “Oh, Alan!”

  Talking any more was beyond her. She was worn, used, buggered and blissfully content. They lay still joined for several minutes as his erection eased. When his softened cock slipped out, Jane whimpered with disappointment and satiation.

  “Sleep, my love,” Alan whispered, as he pulled the duvet over them. “Sleep.”

  She had no trouble obeying that directive.

  Chapter Nine

  Jane woke to morning sun streaming through the window and a cold bed. As she sat up, she noticed a bright blue dressing gown spread over the end of the bed, with a note pinned on it—Wear this, love. Last night you earned the privilege of clothing.

  Gossamer-thin silk hardly fitted her idea of “clothing” but she wasn’t complaining. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, the silk brushing her sleep-warm skin as she wrapped the gown around her like a soft cocoon.

  The sun was high. Hardly surprising, the bedside-clock said eleven. She opened the door and the scent of coffee wafted from downstairs.

  The kitchen was empty. The back door stood wide open, a crooked rectangle of sunlight warming the quarry tile floor. “Alan?”

  “Jane!” He stepped through the doorway, silhouetted by the sun like a brazen statue in the light. “Sleep well?”

  She’d forgive him the very satisfied smirk. She probably had one herself. “Very well. What about you?”

  The smirk spread to his eyes. “My cock gets hard remembering your tight arsehole.”

  She couldn’t help the blush, but she was not going to let it bother her. “I can still feel where you filled me.”

  “Dear Jane.” He pulled her close, covering her face and eyes with kisses. “Lovely,” he said into her hair. “Luscious, delicious. You smell like a well-fucked woman.” He licked the side of her neck, sending a shiver right down to her cunt. “Taste like one too!”

  “You had a good taste last night!”

  “What about you, Jane, dearest? You all but deep-throated me!”

  “Not exactly. I’ve never quite managed it.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Do a lot of oral sex, do you?” He almost growled it out.

  “Not every day, no!” He looked so indignant she had to keep back the chuckle. What did he think?! “Stop scowling, Alan. You didn’t think I was a virgin, did you?”

  “Your arse was.”

  “The rest of me wasn’t. Besides, you didn’t get that good at oral sex without practice.” Damn! This was degenerating into a squabble.

  His shrug conceded the point. “I wish I had been your first though, Jane.” He sounded almost wistful.

  She reached up to kiss him. Hitting his chin, she tried again and landed square on his mouth. “You don’t,” she said as their mouths parted. “You really, really don’t. The first time I ever had sex, I tried to be nice and helpful afterwards and caught his cock in his zipper.” Alan grimaced. “He recovered, married and had five children so I didn’t do any lasting damage. But the very first time I sucked a cock, some time afterwards I might add, I got so nervous I bit a hole in the condom.”

  Alan threw his head back, his ribs shaking as he roared with laughter. “Heaven protect us! Sounds like it’s time I kept you to myself and preserved the rest of mankind from injury.” What exactly did that mean? The question was on the tip of her tongue but… “Bet after all that wild sex last night you’re hungry?”

  “Ravenous actually!”

  “So’m I! I waited for you but I’m about ready to chew the tablecloth, or the nearest condom!”

  Alan was never going to let her forget that one. He lifted the coffeepot off the heater. “Grab the tray with the croissants, love. I’ll get the coffee and come back for the rest.”

  The “rest” was a plate of ham, salami and cheese, jars of apricot and gooseberry jam, marmalade and Marmite, and a great slab of golden butter.

  Not a low-fat, low-carb meal, but with steaming mugs of aromatic coffee, Jane couldn’t imagine anything nicer. Add the morning sunshine, Alan sitting across the small table, the birds in the trees, and the stream running beside the cottage, and it was close to idyllic.

  Jane was on her second croissant and third cup of coffee, when she asked what she was dying to know. “This isn’t your cottage, right? You said you borrowed it?”

  “Yes. It belongs to a good friend of mine.”

  A kinky friend obviously. “It’s lovely but not your average weekend cottage for rent.”

  Alan grinned. “I’ve know John for years. Went to school with his younger brother. He and his wife lived in town but used to come here a lot. She died a little over two years ago. He seldom comes anymore, but he can’t bear to sell it. So he lends it out to a few trusted friends.”

  First “a friend”, then a “few” of them, and they were all into whips and chains, she presumed. She had been missing something all these years! “When you see him next, tell him thank you from me.”

  “If you like, you can tell him yourself.”

  She wasn’t sure she did like, but… “When?”

  “We could visit him. He lives in the west country right now. After Adele died he gave up his job in the city and moved. His family has land there, and his parents were getting on. I’d like to see how he’s doing. Could you take off for a long weekend in the next few weeks?”

  “I’ll have to fit it between deadlines, but…yes.”

  “You could always scout out story ideas in the west country.” She could think of a lot better things to do in Alan’s company. “Jane!” He shook his head and tutted. “Thinking about sex again aren’t you?”

  She was not going to blush, not if she had anything to do about it, which it seemed she did not. Her face burned. Too bad. “Something wrong with that?”

  “Not in the slightest, sweetheart. I love your preoccupation with sex. It matches my own.”

  “Does, does it?”

  “Thank heaven, yes.” He reached for the coffeepot and topped up her cup. “You know,” he said as he refilled his own, “when I glimpsed you across the crowd in the boutique, I saw the interest in your eyes. I thought to myself, ‘She looks sexy, intelligent, sensual. I wonder how she kisses and what her breasts look like.’”

  “Oh! Really? Took you a while to see them.”

  “A week! I have operated faster, but I didn’t want to scare you off. I sensed then that you were what I was looking for.”

  “What were you looking for?”

  “An intelligent, beautiful woman, who liked sex, and above all, liked my sort of sex. You do, don’t you?”

  With a mouth full of coffee, Jane nodded as she swallowed. “Yes, Alan, against all my better judgment, I do.”

  “I’m so damn glad!” He reached across the table and brought her free hand to his mouth, kissing the tip of each finger, before turning her hand over, kissing her palm and closing her fingers over his kiss. “I love you, Jane.”

  Before, she’d treated that declaration as seduction talk but in the bright of morning, she sensed the words came from his heart. How to reply? She still hardly knew him. “Oh, Alan!”

  “Alright then. W
hat do you want to do today?”

  “I thought I was following orders?”

  “That’s right, you did agree to obey me, didn’t you? Good. Fetch your dress from the hall cupboard, get a quick shower, and meet me in the car in thirty minutes. We’re going out. There’s an antique show near Horsham I want to see.”

  Chapter Ten

  After the show they wandered around antique shops and drove on to another, smaller show, somewhere deeper into Sussex. It wouldn’t have been Jane’s choice for a prelude to, or aftermath of, wild sex, but being close to Alan brought its own contentment. Wandering from room to room and shop to shop, looking at jewelry and old china while Alan prowled and poked at Georgian silver and old children’s books, convinced Jane spending time with Alan was infinitely more interesting than mooching around on her own.

  Alan Branis could definitely become a habit. A very good habit—that is if she wasn’t already addicted to him. Just catching his eye across the room had her thinking of nakedness and sex, and a glimpse of his smile got her damp between her thighs. She was turning into a sex maniac and loving every minute of it.

  Alan came up behind her as she looked into a display case of Victorian jewelry.

  “Like them?” Heck yes, but… “Try one on?”

  Why tempt herself? “I’m not buying jewelry now.” She was still paying for her new bedroom furniture and last year’s trip to Machu Picchu.

  “They caught your eye, Jane. I can tell besides, I need to buy you a birthday present.”

  “Alan, my birthday was back in March.”

  “And I missed it! Sorry, dear. I must get you something to make up for it. Try on a couple and see if you like them.”

  She tried on an amethyst, an opal surrounded by tiny diamonds, and a cameo, but it was a dark garnet surrounded by seed pearls that caught her fancy.

  “Get it,” Alan urged. “From me, Jane. A memento of this weekend.”

  “You needn’t worry about me forgetting!” She’d have said more but the stall-holder hovered hopefully.

  “Beautiful piece,” the woman said, putting a little sigh in her voice. “Really suits your hand, it does.”

  Alan handed over his credit card.

  When Jane objected, Alan gave her a wry smile. “Remember our agreement?”

  And she’d thought it was only about sex! He got his way, bought the ring and a matching pair of earrings the stall-holder produced when she realized Alan was an easy sell.

  What now? Kinky sex she was perfectly happy with, but buying jewelry took it to another plane entirely. A place where Jane was not entirely sure she wanted to go.

  “What’s biting you?” Alan asked a while later, sitting in the garden of a village pub they’d stopped at on the way home. “Teed-off at me?”

  Was she? “Not teed-off really. More…off-kilter.”

  He thought about that a moment or two. “Because I bought you a ring and a pair of ear studs?”

  “Maybe because of all the loaded connotations that go with a gift that expensive.”

  Alan tilted his beer to his mouth and drank. Obviously giving himself time to come up with a good reply. “Am I rushing you?”

  “Yes!” That was easy but the ensuing silence was anything but easy. She sensed his hurt and confusion because they mirrored her own. “Alan,” she began, “I didn’t mean that quite the way it came out.”

  “Jane,” he said, reaching over to squeeze her had. “Sorry, love. At my age I should handle things better.”

  “You’re not exactly in your dotage, you know!”

  “I’m seven years older than you, Jane. And I know what I want. Have for years. It just took me this long to find you. I suppose I’m stone-cold scared I’ll lose you.”

  It was her turn to squeeze hands, meshing their fingers. Had she ever seen a man so vulnerable? Alan, the dominant lover, admitting he was scared of losing her. “Alan, I have to be honest. I’m scared witless too.”

  “Of me?” His eyes widened and he shook his head. “Don’t be! I’ll never harm you. Ever. Jane, I wouldn’t!”

  “I know that, Alan. What terrifies me is how you make me feel—incredibly sexy, helpless and powerful. It’s a rather heady mix. One I’ve never tasted before.”

  “One you want to taste again?”

  “Oh, yes.” Her innards clenched at the admission, but she could no more lie than tell the nice family at the next table that she was sitting there without knickers.

  Relief shone in his eyes. Shock, tenderness and an illicit sense of her power over Alan, all jostled in her mind.

  He leaned over the table and kissed her, much to the amusement of the three children at the next table. “Jane, let’s make a pact, I’ll make no secret of what I want—you permanently in my life. I’ll settle for what you are comfortable with, weekends, evenings together. Maybe, if I’m extraordinarily fortunate, a week away somewhere. We’ll go at your speed, Jane. No faster than you want to.” He paused and grinned. “They always say the submissive holds the real power in our sort of relationship…” He let out a slow breath. “Never realized how damn true that is.”

  Now she was more confused than ever. Or was she? He’d been clear enough. She knew exactly what he wanted. All she had to do was decide what she wanted.

  “I love you, too, Alan. It’s just I’m sometimes scared of what you make me feel.”

  “What do you want?”

  Time to put her heart and mind to the sticking point. “I want to go home with you and take my clothes off.”

  His entire face lightened. “And, Jane, what then?”

  “Whatever you want?”

  “I want to tie you hand and foot to my bed. Do you consent?” Her breath caught. Trying hard to still the wild excitement rising in her gut, Jane nodded. “I can’t hear you, my love.”

  She swallowed. “I consent.”

  He stroked the back of her hand, tiny circles that stimulated nerve endings in other parts. “You’ll be helpless, only the safeword will deliver you from what I have in store for you this evening.”

  It was only a little caress, but stirred memories of other touches, other demands. “I know.”

  “You’ll submit and accept my dominance.”

  Dear heavens! She was going wet at the lightest of touches and his voice alone. Much more and she’d be reaching over the table and ripping his shirt off. “With pleasure!”

  Alan nodded, his wide mouth curling at the corners. “I’ll hold you to every word of that, Jane. Every single word.” He pushed her half-empty glass towards her. “Drink up.” She drank down the last of the G-and-T as he stood up. “Let’s go then, Jane.”

  On the drive back, Jane had ample time to change her mind. She never considered it. She was too keyed up, too horny and too ready to do anything to sustain the wild arousal overtaking her senses. She hadn’t needed that gin. She was already drunk on Alan Branis—a sweet intoxication with no risk of hangover.

  It was dusk by the time they drove up the lane to the cottage. The windows were dark and the evening air sent a chill up her bare legs to her pussy as they walked, hand in hand, up to the front door. “The house should be warm enough,” Alan said as he held the door open. “If you’re chilly, you may keep your dress on but I trust you to remove it the minute you’re comfortable, temperature-wise that is,” he added with a smile. “A little discomfort with nudity is fine. It stretches you.”

  “Stretches” was not the verb she’d have used, but did it really matter? “What do you want me to do?”

  “Watch a video with me.”

  It couldn’t be that easy, but she walked into the comfortable lounge and curled up on the sofa. Alan followed in a few minutes with two mugs of tea. It was warm, wet, and very welcome.

  She almost spluttered it all over the place when Alan handed her three videos. None of them were likely to be Oscar contenders: The Story of O; Naughty, Dirty Schoolgirls; and Desires of the Flesh.

  “A hard choice?” Alan asked sitting beside her.
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  “Sort of. I’m not sure whether to go with one I’ve seen or pick the one I haven’t.”

  His face was worth a photo. Nice to know he wasn’t immune to surprise. “Which ones have you seen?” He actually put a snip in the question.

  Jane managed to hold back most of her smile. “The schoolgirl one looks a bit yucky. Why not stick with The Story of O? I’ve seen that before.” She wasn’t about to admit exactly how many times she’d watched it, or how she’d recently replaced her jerky-around-the-edges, much used video. Not yet anyway. She curled up on the sofa beside Alan as the intro music began. “Jane, love,” Alan whispered in her ear, “I want you to sit on the floor, at my feet.”

  Second time she nearly spluttered tea. “Now?”

  “Yes. I’ll hold your mug until you get settled. Take a cushion with you if you like. I want you comfortable.”

  He also wanted her between his thighs. Once settled, it was comforting to be enclosed by his legs and rest her head on his strong thigh. Arousing and stimulating too, surrounded by his body and male presence, and his cock just inches from her face. Jane settled against her lover to watch a video that turned her on, at the same time wondering exactly what Alan had in mind. Once upon a time, O had been a wild fantasy. Now it touched on what he professed to want from her.

  “Alan?” she began as she watched O chained in the dungeon at Roissy and beaten by the valet, “Is that what…”

  “Good Lord, no, Jane!” he replied, stroking her head. “This is fiction. I’d never abandon you in Roissy—if such a place ever existed. Let’s stick with reality. The reality of my hands and your body.” She yearned for that reality. She wanted his hands on her, touching, caressing. “Remember my promise,” Alan said, “to tie you hand and foot. Do you still agree?”

  “Yes.”

  “Strip, then. You should be warm by now.”

  Her arms shook as she stood and pulled her dress over her head, giving it to Alan as he held out his hand. “Walk across the room, then turn around and come back towards me.”