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

by Adira August

  Avienne. She was no virgin, but she might as well have been, in a relationship with him. She’d appeared in his life with no clue what she really wanted in sex. How deeply she could feel.

  He knew being with him had awakened her. It made him wonder if her abrupt and overwhelming sexual vivification accounted for her strong feelings for him, rather than any true connection to his authentic self. Yet, his authentic self was a highly sexualized being. As, very obviously, was she.

  Still, she had far less insight and knowledge than he had, including about herself. She thought she wanted a level of “sensual spanking.” But she didn’t know that when he had done that, spanked her for pleasure, the normal low intensity had just not been enough. His spanking implements were rated 0-10. Pleasure or sensual spanking, was always delivered at 0-2. Occasionally a 3, for someone with a high tolerance.

  But he’d ended up pleasure spanking Avia at a 4, twice the normal intensity.

  He delivered disciplinary strokes at a 6. Which was quite high enough to get almost any Companion crying out by the fifth stroke.

  But later that night, when he disciplined Avia during sex, he’d gone to a 5 with his bare hand for several swats to get her attention. But she’d still resisted, so he’d had to deliver several more at a 6. His hand ached for hours afterward.

  It had hurt, certainly. It finally got her to submit. But it also set up an immense orgasm when he finally let her come. She didn’t make the connection between her level of arousal and the intensity of the spanking.

  He knew what she really wanted, and it wasn’t a sensual spanking; it was an erotic one: strokes delivered to match the intensity of her arousal.

  To give her what she wanted, he’d have to deliver in layers, and with different implements, at a strong 4 that would escalate to a 5/6 during her orgasm. A fine line between punishment and pleasure. He’d need to be perfect for her, concentrating fully on his delivery and her response. And he’d have to do that while she squirmed and protested and he ignored his raging cock.

  He would do that for her, his sleek, sensual mountain cat of a woman with her golden hair and deep turquoise eyes. And afterward, when he took what he wanted the way he wanted, she’d lose track of the number of her orgasms.

  Ben slowed to a fast walk to cool down, approaching the bridge to his private quarters. He looked ahead to the terrace doors that opened directly into his bedroom and the ones next to his. This time, Avia was inside, through the next doors. It amazed him how much the knowledge calmed him. Focused him.

  Here. Now. Mine.

  Avia breathed in deeply, completely relaxed, with her head arched back on the carpet, her back bowed, her legs in full lotus, her hands on her upper thighs. It was called the fish pose, Matsyasana.

  Some people came out of a shoulder stand into the fish, but Avia had her own routine, and she used it near the beginning and went directly into Janu Sirsasana, the head to knee. Often, with her forehead on her shin and her arms draped on the floor, she would fall asleep for a few moments, before switching to the other leg.

  After that, everything flowed effortlessly, the floor routine to the standing poses, ending back on the floor in the child’s pose.

  She moved smoothly into a shoulder stand, holding it for a full minute, arms stretched down, palms flat on the floor. Lowering her legs from the shoulder stand to the plow, a movement to the side, caught her eye.

  The terrace door opened, and Ben stepped into her room. She contracted her limbs into a sitting position, gathered her feet under her and rose without the help of her hands.

  He was even more impossibly beautiful than usual. A sheen of perspiration from his run made his skin glow in the afternoon light. His hair was damp, tousled waves, ringlets clinging to his temples and nape as he turned and looked at the things on her bed.

  “That’s not your regular notebook. You keep a journal?” He asked, eyes moving over her body, dressed only in panties and bra.

  “You walked into my room without knocking,” she said.

  “Dominant,” he replied, as if she should have known this answer.

  “You wanted me to tell you when I reached a limit. Privacy is important to me. So is not being treated rudely.” Avia kept her voice even, a difficult feat considering how torn she was between wanting to run her hands all over him and shouting at him to get out.

  He frowned. “Unfettered access is part of a Dominant/submissive relationship.”

  “It won’t be part of this relationship,” she said firmly. “I am in the room you gave me to use, with the door closed, taking time for myself. My understanding is we are meeting for dinner at seven o’clock. If you want to see me before that you have options. Texting, calling, knocking on my door.”

  He put his hands on his hips and looked down, still frowning.

  Avia realized she was a little afraid. Of him? She wasn’t sure. What would she do if he refused to respect her boundaries? What if he mistook this for some sort of sex game disobedience?

  “And if you struggle and squirm and beg me not to, do you want me 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?”

  She was alone and in her underwear, in a remote area of a huge house where no one was allowed above the second floor. No one would hear her if she called for help.

  Call for help? Are you crazy? This is the guy who gave you a four-thousand dollar bathrobe and popcorn.

  Avia swallowed hard. This was also the man who bound her hands with the belt of that robe and spanked her over and over until she submitted to his will. Who admitted he would have hit her even harder, if necessary, to get her to do so.

  This was a man she’d known for four days.

  Abruptly, Ben walked to the nightstand next to her bed, and took something from the drawer. He didn’t look at her when he dropped it on the comforter.

  “That’s the remote for this room. I should have shown you how it all worked when I brought you in here. I forgot. Top is inside door locks. Middle is terrace. Bottom is lights. I’ll be back to pick you up for dinner.”

  He walked out the terrace doors, closing them carefully, never looking at her.

  Avia sank down onto the bed, relieved. She examined the slim, gray remote. There were two green lights next to buttons, and a dimmer switch at the bottom. She pushed the top button and heard a familiar metallic click from the hallway door. The light turned red. She clicked the second and heard the same click from the terrace doors. Another red light.

  She checked both doors. They were firmly locked. There was a text alert on her phone. Ben.

  WEARING BLACK TIE 2NITE.

  LET ME KNOW IF U WANT 2 DRESS DWN.

  One more time, he’d acted to make her feel as safe as possible. Only staying long enough to show her how to lock herself in. Not even telling her this thing that would only take a few seconds.

  One more time, she’d doubted him.

  Avia abandoned yoga and wrapped herself in her very soft, very comforting, very expensive robe. She curled up on the bed and opened her laptop. She didn’t review Madigan trial information. She didn’t even look up Ecstatic Orgasm. Instead, she put in some search terms: dominant submissive couples lifestyle.

  Freshly showered and shaved, wearing a thick terrycloth robe, Ben listened to Hugo explain why he interrupted his day off and Ben's.

  "He asked for Avia by name?" Ben asked.

  "Not exactly. The package was addressed to her, care of you," Hugo replied.

  "And the Coloradan accepted it?" Ben asked.

  "Bike messenger handed it to Alex outside. She said she glanced at the addressee and signed for it. Messenger took off."

  "Description?" Ben asked, frowning. He didn't like this at all.

  "Not really. White kid on a bike in a Metro Messenger jacket. Thing is, they aren't working today. At least, no one's answering."

  "What's in the package?" Ben asked.

  "Sc
an looks like an ID badge and a piece of paper, like an index card. Return on the envelope is the Sheriff's Office at the courthouse. Denver County sheriffs handle building and prisoner security."

  "They handle prisoner security all over the county, according to Devers," Ben said. He thought for a moment. "This doesn't make sense. How would the Sheriff's department know where she is? And Alex knows better."

  "Yeah."

  Ben came to a decision. "Okay. Alex doesn't need to be working for me anymore. Give her two weeks, approve her unemployment, but don't give her a recommendation."

  "I already did that," Hugo said. "I have extra security at the Coloradan and the Domain grounds. I want Hank on her."

  "Absolutely," Ben said.

  "She's a few hundred per cent safer if she cooperates in her own security," Hugo said. "Avia Rivers doesn't strike me as a woman who wants a babysitter."

  "Don't worry, she'll cooperate," Ben told him grimly. "I'll see to it."

  "I bet you will," Hugo said and Ben could hear him grinning. "There's one more thing." The grin tone disappeared. “There’s a cyclone in your flight path. Loysa.”

  “Is it headed for Macau?” Ben asked, walking to the terrace doors to stand in the warm sunlight pouring through the glass.

  “No, it’s headed for Mexico. And it’s strengthening,” Hugo told him. “You can beat it if you leave tonight.”

  “When, tonight?”

  “Twenty-two thirty, from the Keep,” Hugo said.

  Son of a bitch. At ten-thirty that night, he’d planned to have Avia across his lap. “Alternatives?” Ben asked.

  “None, really,” Hugo told him. “We can route you east in the morning and you can fly from Moscow, but that’ll get you to your first meeting an hour late if you go directly from the airport. Or we can try to push back the meeting for a couple days.”

  Ben paced back and forth in front of the terrace doors. He was opening a new market, a potentially huge market. He was dealing with a man who had three times his net worth and would perceive being derailed by something as inconsequential as a cyclone to be a serious weakness.

  “All right. Twenty-two thirty. Tell Eustace he’ll be taking Ms. Rivers to the Coloradan tomorrow, she’ll call when she's ready. He’ll be staffing her there until I get back.”

  “Yes, Sir. Picking her up from her home?”

  “No, she’s here. She’ll meet him in front of the house.”

  There was silence as Hugo digested this piece of astounding information. “I see,” he finally said. “Is there anything else?”

  Glancing out the window, Ben saw Avia cross the terrace, also in a robe, the one he’d bought her. She leaned on the railing, closing her eyes, apparently enjoying the afternoon sun on her face. He smiled as he saw that under the gold silk with the hand-embroidered floral pattern, she was wearing thick white socks. Apparently, she preferred them to the delicate slippers that matched her robe.

  “Sir?” Hugo said.

  “No, nothing else, thanks,” Ben clicked off.

  The Terrace

  Avia must have heard him come through the terrace doors. Her eyes opened and she looked over her shoulder for him. She smiled, straightened and turned toward him.

  Not pissed at me, he thought, relieved. The simple sight of her made something warm lift and expand in his chest.

  He wrapped his arms around her and drew her against his body, hands moving along the smooth soft silk, up and down her lithe body, over her full, firm buttocks. He squeezed and pulled her more tightly to him. Her arms were around his neck, her hips tilted, her pubic mound grazed his thickening cock.

  Their eyes were locked on one another, the smiles melting in the heat of their need. He was fully erect, now. What she does to me …

  “I want to lift you up and take you just like this,” he said.

  Her eyes went dark and her lips parted. “Yes, please, Sir,” she breathed, her arms tightening around his neck.

  Sir. He shut his eyes. He’d left what she called him up to her. The word from her lips was a siren call to his dick. His hands found hers and he unwrapped her arms from his neck and pushed her away until they weren’t touching. He opened his eyes and saw the confusion on her face.

  “I have to talk to you,” he told her. “You make me crazy, you know.”

  She grinned. “Good. I’d hate to be the only one losing their mind, here.” Avia pulled out her cell and leaned against his chest. He frowned. She held up the phone. "Relax. You're leaving, I want a shot of us."

  He wrapped his arms around her again and turned them so the mountains were in the background. She took several pictures and put the phone back into her pocket.

  "So." She leaned back against the balustrade and crossed her arms over her stomach. “I want to talk to you, too.”

  He leaned back next to her, hands together, discreetly he hoped, over his erection. He needed to keep it from poking through his robe while it subsided. “You first.”

  “Okay. I researched D/s relationships a bit. I think I understand now that you weren’t being rude or dismissive of me when you walked in on me that way.”

  He shook his head. “No. At least, I didn’t mean to be. It's just the way I expected things to work. It didn’t occur to me not to.”

  She nodded. “I read a post from a woman who started a D/s relationship with her husband after their kids were grown and gone. He made it a rule that she had to exercise for thirty minutes every day in the morning.” She shook her head as if she couldn’t believe it. “Is that what you want? For me to have no boundaries? To control every part of my life?”

  He turned to her, but took a step back, to give her space. “Did the woman say she wanted to exercise? Or did she say she hated it?”

  “She said she wanted to but never found the time and she didn’t keep it up. When they started doing the D/s thing, he ordered her.”

  “So he helped her get what she wanted. And now, he’s got an investment in her, in her day, in what she does. If she disobeys him, what happens?” Ben asked.

  “She didn’t say.”

  “What do you think might happen if she disobeys him?” He asked, noting her shift her hips when he asked the question.

  “Some kind of consequence. I suppose, there has to be,” she answered.

  He took a step closer to her. “Do you think it’s possible she would skip exercising on purpose, sometimes?”

  She shifted again, and a slow pink flush infused her skin.

  “She might. Probably,” she said, her voice low.

  Ben moved in front of her and took one end of the sash belt in his fingers. “So, he helps her achieve a goal, has renewed interest in her and does something for her she wants when she wants it. Does that sound like a reasonable assessment of their situation?”

  He pulled on the sash and the belt came undone.

  “Yes,” she swallowed, her voice hoarse. “That sounds ... reasonable.”

  “Put your hands on the railing, Avia,” He told her, his dick lifting. “Now, look at me.” She did, licking her lips quickly. Her eyes luminous. “Good girl.”

  He opened her robe with both hands, holding the fabric away from her body, coolly assessing her. She gasped and looked around as if someone might see. “Take the robe,” he told her. “Hold it open for me.”

  Her eyes grew huge and dark. She did as she was told.

  “Doms take care of their subs,” he told her. “It’s our job. It doesn’t matter what I want. Or what the couple online wants. It only matters what you want. That’s how subs get taken care of. Doms give them what they want.” He cocked his head, noting her thighs pressing together, her nipples furled against the thin fabric of her bra.

  “What you want, right now, is for me to touch you. Control you. Fuck you.” He moved as close to her as possible without making contact and lowered his mouth to her ear. He spoke in a whisper. “You want to feel the power, but you want to control it. You want the benefits of a Dominant Alpha male lover, but only on
terms you set. How will you ever get what you really want, that way?”

  He stepped back. “Close your robe,” he ordered.

  He waited for her to comply. She did, fumbling to re-tie her belt, red-faced with humiliation. This wasn’t the kind of humiliation that led to an intense erotic encounter. This was the mortification of sexual rejection.

  “You don’t trust me," Ben said. "We’ve only known each other a few days, so I understand that. But you also say you have strong feelings for me and want me just as I am. And that’s a lie.”

  She opened her mouth to protest. Nothing came out.

  “It’s a lie because you don’t know me. If you did, you’d know when I say I’m a Dominant, I’m not talking about a role I play, I'm talking about something I am. If you knew me, you’d know that I have the insight to realize you don’t want or need someone to tell you when to exercise or what to eat or when to sleep.

  “I’m a fucking billionaire businessman, Avia, what do you think I do with my days? The decisions I make, the ones no one can take off my plate, involve millions of dollars and affect thousands of people. You think I want to find the time to concern myself with the minutiae of your everyday life?”

  He moved away from her, waiting for an answer. But she was quiet. Pale. Waiting.

  “If you knew me, you’d know if you did want that, need it, I probably wouldn’t be involved with you in the first place. But if I were, if I had somehow gotten to this point, if I allowed myself to care for you as much as I do, if you were my submissive and did need that, it would be my absolute pleasure to find the time. Just as it’s been my pleasure to push everything aside these two days to spend with you.”

  He looked out at the Front Range and then sighed. “I just had a call. I have to leave tonight at ten-thirty. I have to outrace a hurricane. Cyclone, I guess, in the Pacific.”

  He moved over to her and took her by the arms. “I’m going to tell you exactly what’s going to happen and you’re going to listen to me and not argue.”