desire for Bliss: a novel of Sex, Mystery and Romance (RiverHart Book 2)

by Adira August

  “Oh,” she said. And found herself with a ridiculously large smile on her face. Then she shook her head and laughed.

  “What?” He asked.

  “If you react to me with even half the intensity I do to you … damn, I wish you were just a millionaire.”

  “Why?” Ben once again thought about how she fascinated him, never able to anticipate what she might say next.

  “Because then you wouldn’t have so many demands on your time but you could still afford to take a month off and we could just go through every toy and fantasy and scenario and location and find all our hidden erogenous zones and just go on and on and maybe get it out of our systems a little so I can go back to thinking about something besides your hands and mouth and chest and butt and your beautiful cock all the damned time like some sex maniac.” She said it all in a rush and then, of course, blushed and turned away to look out her window.

  “Millionaires don’t have any time," he told her. "They’re scrambling to become billionaires before all the slots are filled. And if you’re offering to stay in bed with me for a month, I’m betting I can find the time. But I don’t think it’ll stop me from obsessing about you the next month. Like some sex maniac.”

  She smiled at the window. He reached for her hand, squeezing gently. She returned the pressure. They rode that way in silence for a few minutes.

  “What I realized between last night and this morning is this,” he began quietly. “I need you to know I’ve never had what you could call a regular relationship. A popcorn on the couch and movie and meet the family kind. Ever.”

  She considered this, studying his strong profile as he drove. “You know what? I never have, either, now that I think about it. It was all short-term, shallow. I just wanted some sex. Which wasn’t that good and I was never very adventurous. As you know. This is like the blind leading the blind, then, isn’t it?”

  “I think of it as exploring new country, together.” He said. He took a breath. “Avia, now, before we get back, I want you to give me a safeword.”

  He noted the look of surprise on her face. “It’s important. I also realized I really don’t know exactly what I want. But I do know I want things with you I’ve never wanted before. And with no structure or rules, or just two now, well … it’s too easy for me to push you across a line you didn’t even know was there until you've crossed it."

  He frowned, shaking his head. “You don’t know how easily a relationship can die, once that kind of violation of trust happens. I can be mistaken about what you want. I can underestimate how far I’ll go in the moment. It’s why I’ll keep insisting you talk to me.”

  He glanced over at her. “What?” He asked, reacting to the smirk on her face.

  “Nothing, really, it’s just that the shrink said pretty much the same thing about me needing a safeword.”

  “Oh. Well, he’s right.” She didn’t bother to correct him.

  He gave her a sidelong glance. “Also, since you asked, humiliation turns you on like crazy and I definitely do it and will continue to with forethought and purposeful intent and great delight in your response.” He lifted up a little and adjusted his cock.

  “What you do to me,” he muttered. “Okay, so pick a word. Something unique between us. Something you can use in public if you have to …”

  “In public?” she asked.

  “We won’t always be a secret. Right now, I don’t want to share you or this thing we have, it’s too special. Too easily damaged. We don’t need to be fighting paparazzi and social media gossip.”

  “Oh. No, of course, I completely agree. I was asking what kind of … I mean, what would we do in public where I’d need a safeword?” She was again aware of how much she didn’t know.

  His eyes lit up. “I’m taking you to dinner at the Eagle’s Nest when I get back. Ever been in the bar there?”

  “I’ve never been in the door there,” she said of the most exclusive restaurant in the city, perched atop the tallest building.

  “I’m going to make you orgasm there. Several times.” He said. He was aware of her hips flexing slightly as he flicked on the turn signal and moved to the right for the ramp to I-25 south.

  “But - I mean - what? You can’t do that,” she said.

  “In fact, I can.” He said with the confidence that bordered on arrogance and made her absolutely sure he could.

  “Dinner isn’t sex,” she said, her voice low.

  “It is if I decide it is.” He merged into the light Saturday afternoon traffic. “Which is why you need a safeword. Because of the ‘you turn me on like no woman ever has and make me want to do things’, thing. I need you to use a safeword if you have to define your limits. Anywhere.”

  “Can I define right now that making me come in a public place is off limits?”

  “No,” he said with a small shake of the head. “You don’t know what’s outside your limits until we reach them. Besides,” he said with a quick glance at her lap, “Your clit thinks me making you come in public is a fine idea. But you still need a safeword.”

  Avia felt her chest hollow with uncertainty. “I can’t just say ‘no?’”

  “Do you remember what you said last night, at the hotel, when I said I’d still discipline you?”

  “Across your lap?” She’d whispered. “Or will you bend me over your desk while I struggle and squirm and beg you not to?”

  Avia turned pink.

  “I see you do remember,” he said. “And if you struggle and squirm and beg me not to, do you want us to stop and have a discussion about whether or not you’re withdrawing consent? Or would you rather I just rip off your panties and give you what you want?”

  Avia looked into her lap, feeling the heat.

  “Avia,” he said. “Saying no is like being restrained. It heightens the experience, deepens arousal. I know you want that.” And Ben planned on giving her all that she wanted of that this day. Or night, he thought.

  She nodded. “I know - I mean - there’s something I do know I want,” she whispered.

  “Okay.” She was silent. He frowned. “I need to know. Never be afraid to tell me.”

  “I’m not afraid, I just ...” she could feel herself getting redder.

  “Oh,” he said, understanding she had triggered her own humiliation response. Better and better … he thought. “Avia,” he said, making his voice harder to help her get where she wanted to go. “Sit up and tell me. Now.”

  She cleared her throat and straightened, looking out the window. “You said, just before, in Boulder - about - um - what you’d do if I was - not obeying …”

  … bad girls get their bare bottoms spanked. Hard.

  “I recall,” he said. He kept his eyes on the road. This was no time to take advantage of her highly sexual response to humiliation. He needed to know what was on her mind.

  “Okay. Well, it sounds a lot like earning disciplinary strokes during a session.”

  He flipped on his turn signal and moved off the highway, heading south.

  “The difference is that in disciplinary strokes from a Session you have no out. Not during or for fifteen minutes afterward. No safeword or plea will stop it. But you know that.”

  He paused while he merged into the light Saturday afternoon traffic. “But, if I punish you for disobedience, you can use your safeword. Just be sure you are genuinely at your limit, not trying to avoid a spanking you’ve earned.”

  He glanced at her while she thought this over. “Also, in Companionship, disciplinary strokes are administered at the beginning of the next Session to avoid any connection with sexual arousal. But punishment spanking will have sexual elements. It can’t be helped, we’ll be doing something sexual and the punishment is immediate.”

  “It still sounds like something I’m not going to like at all,” she said.

  “Well, you aren’t supposed to.” He thought about that. “How was it last night?” She looked confused. “In the dressing room when I spanked you on my lap?”

&
nbsp; “The actual spanking part hurt. That was punishment?” She asked, surprised. “You never said you’d do that.”

  “I don’t explain beforehand. You know that,” he said. “You were disobedient and rebellious and had several warnings. You knew the rules. You were taking advantage because you also knew regular disciplinary strokes didn’t count, yet.” He said.

  “I know,” she said. “I’m really sorry about that.”

  Now he looked surprised.”You are?” She nodded, serious. “Because you don’t want to be spanked like that again?”

  “No, that would be … okay," she to the window. "I'm sorry because it’s important to you and I wasn’t taking it very seriously,” she said, looking troubled. “I mean, I finally did what you wanted because I knew you’d up the intensity if I kept resisting…”

  She glanced at him and he nodded she was right. “... so I caved. But I wasn’t sorry. Now I feel bad about it. You’ve always taken such good care of me and I was being selfish. Just taking what I wanted. Not caring about what you wanted at all.”

  She spoke to her lap, but she wasn’t flushed with shame, she was pale with regret. “I was using you,” she whispered. “I think maybe I’ve been using men all along. Which makes me a bitch, I suppose. But I think they were using me, too.”

  She looked at him, stricken by her own confession. “But you never did. Of all the men to turn out to be a great guy, the billionaire sex toy god never used me. I’m so sorry I let you down.”

  He felt his throat tighten. “Avia,” he stopped and cleared his throat. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. It always starts out this way. Every Companion has to get to the point where she chooses for herself, not to please me. Using me is normal to start out, okay? I started out using my teacher, too.”

  That surprised her. “Oh. Okay.” She was quiet a moment. “That’s - Um, thank you for telling me that.”

  “So. You still haven’t told me what you want,” he said. “Regarding having your bottom spanked outside of Sessions. So spill.”

  A new flash of pink. “I want it to hurt like a sensual spanking but happen like punishment,” she said in a rush. The pink deepened to red. “I mean, not when you’re actually … you know. Another time.”

  Ben sucked the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth and bit down firmly to keep from laughing. God, she is so fucking cute. She’d hate it if I said she was “cute.” The last thing he wanted to do was truly embarrass her over her inexperience.

  “I see. You’re talking about a kind of scene, essentially.” He appreciated the courage it took for her to tell him that. “I think if you’re being naughty, I can adjust. As long as you aren’t being really bad.”

  She was listening, but still red. “What’s the difference?”

  “You know what a bad girl does, you did that last night,” he said. “Naughty girls tempt and tease. And don’t stop when they’re warned.”

  “I just think it’s weird,” she said to the window.

  “What you want?” He asked. “It’s not. It’s pretty common, actually.”

  “No,” she said. “I mean talking about sex this way. Planning it. Like which movie I want to see.”

  He turned carefully into an unmarked dirt road, which was actually the beginning of the private drive to his house.

  “You remember what you told me on the mountain when you wanted to put your hands around my cock and my pants were in the way?” She didn’t respond.

  “You said, ‘Undo this.’ And I did. Because you told me what you wanted, I knew what to do. This is the same thing. But it’s not something you can say in two words. And it’s something that could go wrong if we aren’t clear.

  “We have to do this together, Avia,” He told her. “We can’t work if we’re not partners.”

  She finally turned and looked at him. “RiverHart,” she said.

  “RiverHart?”

  “That’s my safeword.”

  His face softened with his smile. “Perfect.”

  4:00 pm - Avia’s Journal

  Sat/4pmish

  The “Keep”

  Holy shit.

  Ben just left me in his “extra bedroom.” It’s the size of my whole apartment, at least. There’re more clothes here. My bathrobe is here, from the hotel.

  Maybe I shouldn’t be so impressed. He’s a billionaire, he picks up a phone and someone cleans my apartment and someone else delivers my car someplace. Why shouldn’t he arrange for there to be clothes here?

  Tonight, sometime,panties will come up in one of the dumb waiters to his Sanctum Sanctorum. Dozens of panties. Tear-away. Is that environmentally responsible? Can you put them in the wash? Would they fall apart? I’m on my third pair of panties today. We’re going to watch a spanking movie. There goes this pair.

  I could just not wear any panties tonight. But I think he likes tearing them off me. I think I like him tearing them - fuckfuckfuck - how will this ever be a relationship if all I can think about with him is sex?

  No one’s ever treated me this well. No one. It’s so seductive. And I still want him. Now. I wish he’d stayed with me here, on this very large sleigh bed.

  He made love to me, today, on a mountain. I don’t know if he knew that. But I could see how badly he wanted to pound me. And he could see how much I was loving the slow measured way he - anyway, he controlled himself for me. It’s like having a split personality - I love it so much when he loses control because he wants me and I love it so much when he denies himself for me because he cares for me.

  You love him so much, you mean.

  No. Not really willing to go there after only a few days knowing him. But I wish I knew what he loved so I could do it for him.

  Anyway - He’s running. He said I could swim if I want. Inside. On the second floor. A pool. He said I didn’t need a suit because no one’s allowed above the 1st floor tonight.

  What I need is a half hour of yoga. I need centering. I need to go over the Madigan notes. Refresh myself on who the main players are.

  Look up the law and figure out what they actually charged him with so I can explain it to my readers. Racketeering is complicated. Not sure that’ll hold through a defense challenge, anyway. Not sure if they do motions first or pick a jury. I gotta get more background on the defense team. The detective and the Assistant DA.

  I love my life. Hardly anyone loves their life, but I do. And I’m kind of glad Ben’s leaving for a while. I should have spent last night and today on Madigan. I love this kind of stuff, the research. Turning a new source.

  Ben. There’s no use pretending that this can’t become something permanent. Like every moment with him is another Tarot card predicting the future. Then what happens to the life I love? It isn’t just that he wants so much time, it’s that I do.

  But it’s too late, anyway, isn’t it? He’s already changed my life. Me. In my future, what will I be doing every day at 4 when he runs? I’ll still be working, right? On Saturday? Maybe I’ll swim when he runs. He can finish up by diving into the pool.

  After all, he wouldn’t need a suit, either.

  4:00 pm - The Curtain Wall

  Wearing an old sleeveless sweatshirt over his T, Ben Hart ran along the wall path that overlooked his domain. It was getting chilly in the afternoon, now. Snow was visible on the high peaks. The air smelled wonderful.

  He passed the pond, the surface slightly rippled in a western breeze. The stream from the pond led across the grounds, diving under the west wall of the house, flowing through the interior, under interior walls and out again at the southeast corner, where it made it’s way back to the pond. The “moat” as everyone called it, supported a strip of tropical rainforest inside the house, with twenty-foot high trees and exotic birds that flitted through the leaves.

  Ben had inherited the pond, the moat, the jungle, the designer koi fish and their caretaker, Curtis, when he’d closed on the property. Curtis was the source of the castle references. A man in his sixties, or maybe seventies, the taciturn
and extremely capable property manager was unimpressed by wealth or status and devoted to Akiko and Akira, the two aged gold and white occupants of pond and moat.

  Ben had once observed one coming to the surface and the cantankerous old man bending to pet the great fish’s head.

  Dredging equipment sat idle to one side of the pond. Maybe Curtis had moved the fish elsewhere while their home was renovated. Ben would have been branded a murderer in the old man’s eyes if he hadn’t approved deepening the pond and moat before winter for the very large and long-lived fish.

  He was glad he’d be away for a week while the process went on. Maybe I should just move to the hotel for the month, too. Keep Avia company. The erotic possibilities of that arrangement carried him through the second mile. He’d decided to do two circuits.

  You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’ve never spent the night with a woman in your life. See how this night goes.

  Practical was the way to proceed. Careful. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared for the future. He could install some devices in his private quarters. Maybe an extra desk for her to bend over. He’d have to “interview” her about her fantasies. He hadn’t done an interview with her, yet. Maybe the day he got back. Before he took her to dinner.

  They'd never make it to dinner.

  Right now, he needed to think about this evening. How to show her what he was. How to give her what she wanted.

  I want it to hurt like a sensual spanking but happen like punishment

  It was the blush that followed that reached into his gut and tightened every muscle. That humiliation flush signalled her deepest and most secret desires. She couldn’t have aroused him more if she’d leaned over and taken his dick into her mouth. And she didn’t have a clue she was doing it.

  Rounding a curve, the helicopter pad bastion came into view, a suspended walkway leading to the upper bailey. The “bailey” being the wide terrace that surrounded the third floor: his Keep. The Keep was the most secure place in a castle. The place the most valuable treasures were kept. The place he’d brought Avienne.