by Olivia Rigal
"Hannah, I will lead you to ecstasy but to do so I will first take you through hell. I will start the most magnificent fire that will devour you and it's only when you are consumed with desire that I will show you mercy and give you release."
As he says the words, the hand that doesn't hold me firmly in place against him lifts my skirt and slides between my thighs. His touch is feather-light and yet it's scalding.
"Open up for me baby," he whispers in my ear and I hesitate a couple of seconds. He groans and I give in. I spread my legs to grant him access. I'm rewarded with a softer groan and a soft bite on my neck. His fingers linger on the way to the apex of my legs. Where I'm expected to follow his orders right away, he's allowed to take his own sweet time to play with me.
But I have no patience!
"You will learn," he says and I wonder if I spoke aloud. "Yes, you will learn that anticipation and longing are key. The pleasure is more intense if you need to fight for it and you will. You will fight for your greatest pleasure and you will fight for mine."
It's my turn to groan. I need something to alleviate the frustration I've accumulated. I swam in a pool of lust for a week and then drowned in a sea of despair for two days. I need him so badly I could scream. That's when I realize that if I'm too proud to beg for a kiss, I'm not too proud to steal one.
I slightly tilt my head and nibble on his neck, move upward to his jaw and hear him chuckle as he turns his face to mine.
"What will it take to derail your one track mind?" he asks. Another light brush of his lips on mine and he shows me that this was a perfectly rhetorical question. He knows so precisely what to do.
His hand climbs up between my inner thighs all the way to the flimsy barrier of my lace thong. Kissing doesn't seem so urgent anymore.
The tips of his fingers ascertain the dampness of the material and I tremble under the gentle touch. But right now I don't want gentle. I don't want to be caressed, I want strokes, I want powerful thrusts and violent passion.
Somehow I fear that this is not what I will get. Well, not tonight. I listen to him promise that he will own me. He swears that he will show me the beauty of surrendering to a skilled master, the unrivaled pleasure of giving up all control and I know with absolute certainty that, tonight, he's going to lead me to the edge of the cliff and prevent me from flying.
Hypnotized by the sound of his voice, I give up my attempt to steal a kiss and go soft in his arms. I need to trust that he will give me everything that I want but on his own time.
And it's when I give up that he turns to me, his eyes fixated on my lips. He fists one hand in my hair and tilts my head at just the right angle to allow him to cover my lips with his. He demands access and I gladly give it to him. While he devours my mouth, his other hand reaches for my breasts.
Time stops and I understand that I've never been kissed before. When he pulls away, I am breathless.
"I will show you which sensations are more delightful than the tender touch. There are so many ways to light an inferno between your legs. I will show you all those that I know, and we will explore and invent new ones. Some of my ways will seem strange or barbaric at first, but I promise you, I will make you crave them."
And as if to demonstrate, Bruce increases the pressure of his fingers on my nipple. Studying my expression, he stops a step after passing the threshold of pleasure and pain. I clench my teeth and let out a sound between a wordless protest and a moan.
"It took all my willpower not to fuck you quick and hard in the elevator on our way up. There's no one in the building but you have had no way to know it and the fear of being caught would have brought you over the edge in no time at all," he tells me and he's probably right.
"But I didn't because I need to make sure that you understand where I want to take you and have decided on your own that this is where you want to go. I want you to think about it real hard. If you want to run, you have a day to do so. Tomorrow, after the sale, we will attend the end of the season dinner together and then we'll come back here. I will wait here for a little while and then go to my room. I expect I will find you there. You will be naked and waiting for me kneeling by my bed."
He lifts me up from his knees and, as I stand up, I suddenly feel very cold. He stands up and towers over me. He crowds me and says, "Should you decide to go to your room and not mine, I will see to it that you enjoy a pleasant internship with us and this will not affect the recommendation I may give you in the future."
Lacing his fingers into mine he escorts me to my bedroom and puts a chaste kiss on my forehead and as he turns around to leave, I catch his arm and standing on my toes, I say "Goodnight Bruce," and gently press my lips to his and then my entire body against his.
The throbbing between my legs is such that I can't help myself. It takes all my willpower not to grind against him.
He pulls away and growls, "You're going to pay for that maneuver. Not tonight, but you will."
Just before closing the door behind him, he says "You're a natural sub you know, accepting me as your master will be good for you. I will take care of you and make you very happy."
CHAPTER NINE
Today's a special day at Goldsmith and Evans. The end of the season sale is always a big event and the entire house is bubbling with activity.
Bruce was gone when I got up. I haven't spoken to him today. He's spent the entire morning working the exhibition room and courting important prospective bidders. I've only seen him from afar while assisting Tab.
We answer inquiries and give away catalogues.
The other interns work the room as well. William and Kenneth have both been groomed and dressed up for the occasion. Gone is the grunge art student look. They're wearing a suit and trying to look sophisticated while answering questions about the art in the sale.
When the crowd moves to the smaller viewing area where the buffet and the tables are set for the luncheon, the guys help the crew prepare the folding chairs for the afternoon auction while Tab and I retreat to the reception area.
I sit on her desk while she drops on her chair and kicks of her shoes. Massaging one foot, she asks, "So how do you like your room?"
I'm startled by her question but then I realize that I shouldn't be. Nothing happens in this building that she doesn't know about.
"It's lovely," I answer and then, swallowing my pride, I ask the question that's been haunting me since last night, "Was it Elisa's room before?"
Tab laughs and shakes her head. She starts working on her other foot and answers without looking at me.
"Nope, Elisa never had a room. It was Bruce's guest room for out of town clients. I thought it was nicely decorated... now don't look at me funny, I only saw it when I had to let said guests in while Bruce was away."
She looks up to me with a smile to check that I understand she's being facetious and after ascertaining that I am smiling as well, she continues.
"Anyway, when Bruce decided that you would move in, he had the room redone. He felt the decor was too masculine and impersonal for you."
I'm speechless. So this is what he was doing yesterday during his lunch hour.
She slips her shoes back on and leans back in her chair asking "Did you guys know each other before last week?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm having a hard time believing you tamed this tiger in just one week," she explains and then she raises an eyebrow to let me know she expects an answer to her question.
"We were raised in the same town so I had seen him before," I say. "I had the biggest crush on him when he was the captain of the football team of his high school, but he never knew who I was."
"Really?" her tone is incredulous.
"Of course! He was eighteen and I was twelve at the time. We never were in the same school at the same time. I only went to the games because my best friend's eldest brother was on Bruce's team. I'm pretty sure I was not even a blip on his radar. I ran into him again a few years later. He was working here already. I wa
s visiting a pre-sale exhibition." I don't tell her that I was with my parents nor that the reason we came was because there was a painting my mother had restored in the sale. "I recognized Bruce right away. He was even more handsome than I remembered him and, from then on, I followed his career."
"That's it?"
"No, a few months later, he started giving conferences in my college," I say and I remember how excited I was to know that I was going to see him at least once a month even if it was only from afar.
"And you think this is just a coincidence?" she asks sweetly.
I shrug. Of course it's a coincidence. How could he have known where I was studying?
"You're a hopeless romantic," I tell Tab.
"Who's a hopeless romantic? Tab?" asks a joyous woman's voice behind me. I turn around and watch a very pregnant lady wobbling in our direction.
"Laura, you're back!"
Tab jumps up from her seat and goes around the desk to hug the expecting mother.
So this is the mysterious soul of the auction house that has been away since I arrived. I can't believe it was just a little more than one week ago.
While Tab hugs Laura, the newcomer looks at me with very witty eyes. They're the color of onyx. Black and shiny. So is her very long hair tied in a ponytail very high on her head.
"It's so good to have you back," Tab said.
"Come on Tab, I've only been away ten days!" Laura protests freeing herself from Tab's embrace.
"Yes but nothing's the same when you're not around and your men are impossible," Tab explains and that starts me wondering again about the living arrangements of Laura and her men. I step away from Tab's desk to introduce myself.
"So you're Hannah Cohen," she says and then she laughs. "Steven had told me I was going to be surprised and now I know what he meant."
"You had imagined me paler than I am?" I offer as an explanation.
"Yes, obviously, because of your name," and the way she says it is refreshing. She makes it clear that this is not what she was talking about without denying that race issues exist. "But I very much doubt that's what he meant."
She shakes her head and her hair sways from one side to the other in a lovely cascade of dark silk. "I think he meant that we didn't imagine you so ... lovely and innocent looking."
She takes a step forward and hugs me.
"I'm so happy you finally made it here. Welcome to the family, Hannah," she says.
The puzzlement I feel must reflect on my face because she laughs and then apologizes.
"I'm not making fun of you Sweetheart, I'm just so delighted to have you here. I was starting to believe Bruce was waiting in vain and that you were never going to apply to our internship program."
"You were waiting for me?"
"Well, not me, obviously but..."
"Laura!" Steven's voice booms in the hallway and she lets me go to take a step toward him. I look in the direction of the voice and the smile on Steven's face takes my breath away. There's so much love in his eyes I have to turn around. I feel like I'm intruding on their privacy.
I return to Tab's desk and take my position close to her while the couple walks away.
"Did you see the way Steven looks at Laura?" she asks.
"Yes and it made my eyes tear up," I tell her.
"Well now you know how I feel when I catch Bruce looking at you. He's so intense I fear you are going to combust, but then you turn around and he wears his mask again."
My mouth opens but I don't know what to say. I close it again and mumble something about having forgotten my phone in my office, well Bruce's office, and make a run for the elevator.
My mind is spinning and I need a little quiet time to put some order into my thoughts.
CHAPTER TEN
I'm sitting at my desk and staring at the wall. It took me a while to identify the feeling but now I've put a name on it. It's terror. I'm terrified but I don't know why.
I've dreamed about that man for years. I've longed for him and now that I know that he's felt the same way, that he's been waiting for me too, I should be elated.
Instead, I'm petrified.
The beep of my cell phone startles me. It's a text. Kenneth is letting me know that the sale is about to start. He wonders where I am.
What the hell is wrong with me? I was so looking forward to this event and I can't get up from my chair.
It's not the sale, it's Bruce. I want him so much that I'm paralyzed.
What has he seen in me? Does he really like me or a fantasy image he's built in his imagination about me? What if I am not enough? What if I am unable to give him what he wants? What if he is disappointed in me once he really gets to know me?
I'm not sure I'm making sense. I don't know what to do.
Another beep and I look at my phone again. Another chunk of time has vanished. It's a text from Tab "Bruce's looking for you. Where the hell are you?"
Lost in my fears, that's where I am. But I know that whatever my decision will be--running or staying--I need to go downstairs and act as the professional that I claim to be.
I brace myself and ride the elevator down. I walk to the door of the auction room and listen from the hallway to the sound of Bruce's voice calling out the bids.
"Five thousand dollars anyone, five thousand?"
I stay behind the door waiting for him to finish with the lot he's offering. While I wait, I set my cell phone on silent. The bidding is short. The art pieces at the beginning of the sale are the lesser ones. The prices will crescendo until the masterpiece, actually in the present case the masterpieces. A magnificent collection of lacquer screens by Jean Dunand.
A few seconds after knocking down the gavel, Bruce gives a short presentation of the next piece and that's when I slide discreetly into the room. I remain in the back, next to the other interns.
Bruce looks stressed and it's unlike him. His reputation as an auctioneer is excellent. I've been told he's charming and can coax the audience into going further than they had planned to. James Evans is standing by his side and watches him with a frown.
The bidding starts again and Bruce's gaze roams over the crowd. Kenneth, who's standing next to me, spots a bidder that Bruce missed and he jerks his arm up. The sudden movement catches Bruce's attention and he looks over on our side. He sees me and for an instant I read so much relief in his eyes that I want to curse myself for ever doubting him.
Suddenly Bruce's not so tense. He finds his rhythm. I'm not the only one who notices. James Evans does to. I can tell because he visibly starts to relax and seems to begin to enjoy the sale.
An hour passes and the atmosphere is heating up. Laura silently enters the room holding a phone to her ear. She raises her hand and bids for a client. On the way out, she winks at me. She's positively glowing. I wonder if I'll ever look so happy and content and then I watch Bruce and remember what he promised me last night.
He said he would take care of me and make me happy... the only thing that I need to do is follow his lead.
There are only a dozen lots left when Steven Goldsmith takes over. While the first twelve-panel screen is being set up, Bruce makes his way to the back of the room. He stops on the way for some very hushed conversation with some of the dealers, but, while he speaks to them, his eyes remain riveted on me as if he fears that I will disappear if he looks away.
When he finally gets to me, he takes my hand and pulls me out of the room. The door closes behind me as I hear Steven start what I hope will be a long litany of incredibly high numbers.
There's a little passageway between the auction room and the reception area that is used to store the folding chairs during the exhibitions.
Bruce drags me in there and closes the door behind us. We're in absolute darkness and my heart stops.
I thought I was scared before but it's nothing compared to the way I am feeling now. But while earlier I feared the consequences of my saying yes, I am now petrified that he's going to yank that possibility away and cast me out.
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br /> I raise my free hand and press it flat on his chest under his vest. I can feel the strong beat of his heart through the palm of my hand. His heart is racing. Is it the high of the sale or am I doing this to him? My fingers curl on his shirt in a feeble attempt to show that I want to hold on to him.
"I'm sorry, it's just that--" I begin to explain.
"Don't!" he orders brushing my hand away. "Don't even try to give me an explanation. You're not allowed to say another word unless I ask you a direct question."
He lets go of the hand he was still holding and I hear him fumble in the dark and then open one of the remaining folding chairs. His hands come to rest on my waist and I'm guessing he's now sitting in front of me.
"Spanking can be very erotic," he tells me, caressing my ass through the thin material of my skirt. "I thought I was going to ease you into the practice but you've changed my mind. I'm not going to make it hurt like hell. I should but I won't. I will just make it strong enough to be sure you remember what it feels like when you disappoint me."
He pauses and even though I can't see his face, I know that he's daring me to speak up and argue with him. I won't. I can't. I want to be his. I want it enough to ... submit to his whim without any protest.
I bite my tongue and refrain from pointing out how unfair he is. After all, I had until the end of the sale to run. He shouldn't be upset just because I was absent at the beginning of the sale, he should rejoice I decided to stay.
Yet, the fact that he wants me so badly, that my absence unsettled him thrills me to no end. I have stolen a bit of his thunder and he needs to take it back.
So I await his next order.
A wave of lust washes over me as it comes.
"Remove whatever you're wearing under that skirt and give it to me."
With trembling hands I remove my thong and present it to him. My eyes are getting used to the darkness. Thin rays of light are seeping through the frame of the door allowing me to see his silhouette but not the expressions on his face. The accelerated rhythm of his breathing is enough to undo me. I don't care if it hurts, I don't care that he's using my thong to tie my hands together. As long as he's taking care of me, I will take all that he's willing to give me.
