The silk blouse was shrugged off, followed by the bra and her sex-dampened panties.
It was time to put on her special shirt; the overall she’d had made out of the same white cotton as the gloves. It scratched her skin slightly, but not like the hair shirts she was sure the Marquis would have approved of.
Her eyes glazed. She could feel the pull of his lettering reaching out to her, and she hadn’t even touched the papers yet. Not that she ever could, not really. Not in the flesh. The risk of damaging them was too great. But this was enough, this should work...would work.
Leaving the cabinet’s glass top open, she tried not to breathe; tried not to expel air over the precious antiquities.
With the greatest of care, she slid her sheathed fingertips beneath the first article. As she raised the delicate page towards her, the astute intelligence she’d fallen in lust with many years ago danced through her mind. She could vividly see the glow of his intense eyes. She could feel his utterances against her skin as he whispered into the ear of a tethered woman that was crouched next to him; naked, awaiting his correction. It is always by way of pain that one arrives at pleasure.
Her nipples stiffened as the images in her head combined with the teasing touch of the rough fabric shift. Her tits felt as though they had been hotwired to her crotch.
Within her head she visualised a whip in his hand. All he’d have to do was hold it, gesture with it, flex it with the promise of chastisement to come, and his tied naked subject would be pleading for the strike of welcomed agony he’d promised. Pleasure does not exist without pain.
She closed her eyes. She didn’t need to be able to actually see the inscriptions on her prized possession now she’d come this far. The words had blazed themselves upon her brain since she had first read them as a student.
Bringing the page to her chest, she swept it over the protective garment.
Instantly her breasts went from being merely hard, to burningly tight as the Marquis spoke straight at them.
...your service with be arduous, it will be painful and rigorous, and the slightest delinquencies will be requited immediately with corporal and afflicting punishments...
The slickness at her pussy coated her inner thighs as she smoothed his instructions from breast to breast.
...hence, I must recommend to you prompt exactness, submissiveness, and total self-abnegation...
Her clit pulsated with the close proximity of every eighteenth century syllable.
...that you be enable to heed naught but our desires; let them be your laws...
Visions of the bound woman locked inside her imagination took on a sharper perspective. Their bodies merged as one. Eyes shining, flesh prone, their mutual need great, as their Master’s voice escaped from the muttering of their mutually moving lips in time with his.
...fly to do their bidding, anticipate them, cause them to be born...
Avoiding the cotton-covered ‘v’ of her pussy, she bent slightly, tracing the libertine’s insights across the outside of her legs, travelling them over every inch of the especially fashioned shirt, until only her clit remained unvisited by the sadist’s script.
Opening her eyes, light-headed from the mass of eroticism vying for attention in her mind, her arms shook as she returned the short dissertation to its new home. Then, taking the chance to exhale a held in breath, she reverently picked up the second parchment.
Again she stared at the ink. She could picture the quill being dipped seductively into his inkwell. She could hear the scratch of the nib as it crossed the paper.
Widening her legs, the throb at her pussy almost unbearable, she knew the wait was over.
This was the quote.
The set of words. A beautiful accumulation of letters that would trigger her into a climax, transport her to his side, and make her the imagined woman in the bindings awaiting the strike of his whip. Make her his muse. Make her his subject of study.
Tilting her hips forward, her eyes firmly shut, her lips moving in time to the words on the page, she pushed the everlasting memorial to de Sade lightly over the thin fabric that shrouded the tip of her clit.
Dissolving into ecstasy; a body-jarring, fantasy-laden orgasm swept her to the floor, as she cried out his doctrine in a sadistically blissful act of worship to the psyche of her master. Her Marquis.
Lust’s passion will be served; it demands, it militates, it tyrannizes.
Come Find Me
Natalie Dae
Chapter One
Lying in bed, the sheet bunched between her legs and draped over her breasts, Kat Simmons stared across the hotel room and out of the window. The early Virginia morning sun peeked between two distant mountains and a gauzy mist hovered over the crests. Though beautiful, the scenery did nothing for her, failing to bring the peace she needed. Why had she thought solitude would help? How had she been so stupid as to imagine a little time away from the UK would give her a chance to sift through her problems—a boring life and love unrequited—then banish them for good?
She needed Dan, missed him, and she’d only been here since last night. Seeing him every weekday gave her reason to get up and go to work. Even if they were too busy to talk much, they always spent lunchtimes together, grumbling about their day or rejoicing at gaining new clients for the accounting firm. Her life outside of work was full of nothing but waiting for the hours to pass until she saw him again. God, she had it bad. Had since the day he’d first breezed into the office as a new employee, wide smile in place, his aftershave scenting the air and sending every woman into dreamland.
Why had he chosen her as his only work friend? She didn’t consider herself anything much to shout about. Hell, she didn’t do anything exciting and her tales of what book she’d read the previous night must have bored him stupid. Yet he met her for lunch every day and listened, really listened to what she had to say. For the past two years, she had shied away from relationships, having found no man who stirred her in the way she knew they should, the way Dan stirred her just by a look or brief touch. If she were honest, she’d stopped dating the day she’d met him, and abstinence was driving her crazy.
Kat sighed, dying for his company, wishing she’d accepted his offer to join her on this break. As a friend, he’d said. No strings attached. She’d wanted him to come—God, how she’d longed for that—but it was him she had to get away from. A distraction, that’s what he was, a beautiful distraction who fuelled her desires and confused her thoughts. Should she be thinking of her co-worker the way she did? Imagining them fucking in the storage cupboard, knowing any minute someone could happen by?
She blushed, her cunt beginning that familiar ache whenever she thought of him—of his black hair, a stark contrast to her blonde, and his sweet brown eyes. He stared at her with such intensity she was hard-pressed not to kiss him, to ask him to fuck her senseless, making her forget everything but him and what they were doing. But he didn’t feel the same as her, she was sure of it. Nothing in his manner or words gave any indication he’d also enjoy screwing during the lunch break.
Was that all she wanted?
No. I want him. As my lover.
Kat squeezed her legs together, the sheet abrading her clit and a spike of desire flaring in her cunt. Her face grew hotter and she closed her eyes, seeing herself in her work cubicle, hunched over her desk, fingertips tapping the keyboard.
She smelled him, that distinct, spicy aroma that always alerted her he was near, and turned. Dan filled the space between the walls, his broad shoulders almost touching them, his dark grey suit and white shirt begging to be ripped off. He stepped closer, reaching his hand out to touch her hair, smoothing it between finger and thumb. A lazy smile tweaked his lips and he cocked his head, a silent question she’d wanted to hear for so long. Kat rose and faced him, nipples hard and ready, juices moistening her slit and a wave of lust consuming her.
Dan drew her towards him, their chests meeting, his body heat seeping through her cream blouse. All thoughts of where th
ey were vanished and she lifted her face to his, waiting for his lips to brush hers. He inclined his head, tongue tracing her lower lip, and kissed her, the action soft and so damn erotic the spiral of a building orgasm burned. He clasped her shoulder blades, pulled her closer and pressed his hard cock against her. Snaking one hand between them, Dan inched up her skirt, his touch trailing towards her cunt. Fingers easing her knickers aside, he rubbed her clit, his kiss growing insistent, demanding.
Kat allowed the fantasy to progress, accepting the inevitable—her hand searching between her legs. She dipped her fingers inside her hole, coating them with her juices, then slid them over her clit. Her hips jolted, her bud sensitive, and she pleasured herself, imagining Dan’s fingers in place of her own. Nipples aching, she took one between finger and thumb, rolling it, pinching it until shocks of pleasure-pain radiated from there. Working faster on her clit, she reached for the peak, letting the heady sensations wash over her. She cried out, bunching her eyes tight, and bit her lip.
As her orgasm receded, tears of frustration burned her eyes. Dan wasn’t here. He hadn’t made her come and, damn it, she wanted him so badly. She still ached, her satisfaction incomplete. Kat lightly swirled her fingertip over her clit, testing whether she could bring herself to a second shot of pleasure, toying with her other nipple to spur it on. Her breathing quickened and she rubbed hard and fast, seeing Dan in her mind’s eye, smelling him, needing him.
A loud rap at the door had her springing upright, stilling her hand on her clit, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. The sheet fell to her waist and she scrambled off the bed, grabbing her dressing gown then slipping into it. At the door she hesitated, calming herself, exhaling through pursed lips and fanning her face with her hand.
“Who is it?”
“Room service, ma’am.”
Room service? “But I didn’t order any.”
“Whether you did or didn’t, I had orders to bring this up, ma’am. I’ll just check I have the right room.”
Kat frowned while she waited, but when he came back saying the order was for her, she unlocked the door and eased it ajar to peek through the gap. A young bloke in hotel uniform, brown hair slicked back with gel, stood behind a food trolley. Two silver domes, a pot of coffee, a cup, creamer and a sugar bowl rested on top. He smiled and nodded, cocking his head as though to ask for her permission to enter the room. Kat stepped back and swung the door wide, conscious he might smell the scent of her juices on the air. Her blush stung her cheeks and she lowered her gaze while he pushed the trolley inside.
Winking, he said, “There you go, ma’am.”
She glanced at his name tag. “Thank you, Jack.” What else could she say? It was obvious he didn’t know where the order had come from, and if a breakfast she fancied filled the plates under those domes, who was she to argue?
Jack gave a slight bow then left the room, closing the door behind him. Kat pushed the trolley to the bed, where she sat on the edge and lifted one of the domes. Crispy bacon rashers and scrambled eggs on toast lay beneath. Her stomach growled at the smell of the food and she unrolled a knife and fork from their napkin encasement. Hungry now, she cleared the plate then poured a coffee, the rich aroma bringing memories of Dan and work as they chatted on their breaks.
What was he doing now? He’d told her once he spent Saturdays working at his father’s carpentry shop, a profession he’d toyed with but didn’t have the passion for. Numbers had been his thing, hence him being one of the top accountants at work. And God, was she glad making furniture didn’t appeal. She’d never have met him otherwise. Or would she? Didn’t fate have a hand in life? Didn’t it direct people where to go?
Kat sipped the coffee, once again staring out of the window. If she’d allowed Dan to join her they could have walked to those mountains. Maybe climbed one and stared back at this majestic hotel with its Tudor-style façade and luscious grounds. But she hadn’t and she’d just have to deal with it—a week away from him that promised to drag on like a month.
She shifted her gaze from the outside scene to the trolley and lifted the second dome. A yellow rose lay on top of a plain white envelope. Kat smiled. The insane thought that Dan had somehow got hold of the hotel staff and ordered her breakfast swept through her mind, but she dismissed it for the pathetic hope it was. Yes, she’d told him she loved yellow roses, but it was just a coincidence, wasn’t it?
But if it wasn’t Dan who sent it, who did?
Her nerves jangled and she thought back to the previous evening. She’d visited the hotel bar, seating herself in a corner booth, watching everyone else have a good time. No one had approached her or had even looked her way, and she’d felt invisible. Lost and lonely. No, nobody here had sent her breakfast. Sent a rose that brought back memories of childhood, when Nanna had handed her one in full bloom and urged her to sniff it. Kat had brought the flower to her nose and inhaled, the petals tickling her skin. From then on the smell had reminded her of Nanna, that vibrant woman who’d said, “Press it, Kat. Place it between two books and press it. Then you’ll always have something from me.”
Even as young as she’d been, Kat had sensed a hint of despondency in the old woman’s voice. Tears had pooled in eyes that had witnessed events over seventy-two years, eyes that still remained young despite the wrinkled skin surrounding them. Eyes that had closed for the last time a week later, Nanna taken by the angels and spirited off to a better place. Nanna had kept her illness to herself—typical of her to not want anyone to worry—but the cancer had claimed her, snatching her away too soon.
Tears burned Kat’s eyes now and she blinked them away, inhaling deeply to combat the emotions spreading through her and threatening to take hold until they swamped her. She picked up the rose, holding the stem between thorns, and lifted it to her nose. Wistfully, she placed the flower back on the trolley then opened the envelope, pulling out a folded sheet of paper. The familiar handwriting set her stomach to bunching and she shook her head, reading the words aloud.
“I know you said not to come, but I couldn’t resist. Go into the lobby at eleven o’clock. The receptionist will have an envelope for you. Inside are instructions on where I am. Come find me. Dan.”
Kat smiled so wide it hurt her cheeks. Dare she hope he felt the same as she did? Doubt crept in. No, he’d made it quite clear he’d join her as a friend. Still, it didn’t matter. If it meant he was here and she would get to see him, it would have to be enough. Energised, she glanced at the bedside clock. With an hour until eleven, she had plenty of time to shower and get ready. What should she wear? Anything more than casual and she’d look obvious and also out of place. This wasn’t the kind of town that required dressing up during the day. She walked to the wardrobe, rifling through the clothes she’d brought, searching for something appropriate. Dan had only ever seen her in blouses and knee-length skirts, slacks when the weather turned cold, and shoes a footwear fanatic would smirk at.
Selecting jeans and a plain black jumper, she laid them on the bed then hopped in the shower. What did he have planned? Would they get along outside the work environment? What if they didn’t—would that sour their relationship when they returned home?
God, I hope not. She sighed and rinsed the lather from her hair. Just meet him, see how it goes. Take it as it comes.
Giddy with bubbling excitement, Kat dressed then dried her hair, leaving it wavy and loose about her shoulders. No time for the flat iron today. She pulled on her black boots and glanced at the clock. Half an hour to kill. Applying subtle makeup wasted a few minutes and, unable to dawdle any longer, she put on her black down-filled jacket, grabbed her bag then left the room.
The lift took an age, the green lights indicating the floor levels lighting up with too many seconds in between. She tapped her foot on the patterned carpet, looking down at the interlocking burgundy-and-beige octagons, anything to calm her pinging nerves. A soft whoosh sounded and she lifted her head. The lift doors slid open, revealing no one inside, and
she stepped aboard, jabbing the ground floor button. Her stomach lurched as the descent began and she tapped her hand against her thigh. No one else boarded, so once the lift stopped she walked across the foyer, alert and studying everyone there. Was Dan here, watching, making sure she followed his instructions?
At the desk, Kat received the promised envelope and glanced around before ripping it open. Another folded sheet was inside and she took it out, murmuring the words as she read them.
“Walk down the hill towards town. At the bottom, wait for the tour bus. Travel to the last stop. Once there, get off and head for the tree-lined mountain trail. You’ll get another note at the third trunk on that path. Come find me!”
Laughter burbled out of her and she glanced around, conscious that someone may think her odd. Fuck it. If they do I don’t care! She ran to the double doors and burst through, the brisk spring wind whipping her face and hair. Walking along the path towards the main road, she eyed the pebbled gardens. Shrubs and small flowers dotted the areas on either side, and trees in huge pots, their leaves pruned, shaded the grounds. Everything looked so pretty and her mood lightened further, a big improvement to how she’d felt upon waking.
On the path that led down the hill, she halted and stared ahead at the mountains she had to reach. Dan was there, waiting for her. She walked quickly down the hill, taking in the sights below. The buildings of the town centre appeared—a cluster of browns, greys and whites. Houses tapered from dense to sparse, creating a circle, giving way to countryside. What she surmised were cows grazed in a couple of fields, horses cantering in another, and she breathed in the crisp air, so glad she’d taken this trip.
At the bottom of the hill, she waited only moments for the bus, which trundled towards her, an old-fashioned silver beast from the fifties. Once aboard, she sat close to a window and willed the other passengers to hurry up and get on. The bus sighed as the doors closed and the engine clattered before settling into a loud hum. Kat stared out of the window but didn’t fully appreciate the scenery. Visions of Dan filled her mind and warmed her cunt. She squirmed in her seat, giving the other passengers sidelong glances, telling herself there was no way they knew what she was thinking. God, just to have him touch her, even if he only held her hand…
Sexy Just Got Rich: Brit Babes Do Billionaires Page 8
