Giggling, I stand up and walk toward the bathroom.
Brushing my teeth and trying to assemble my hair, I remember the sex we had when we returned last night. He was tender and loving, not what I’d expected at all. He’d never been so emotionally attached during our love making before and I’d revelled in his touch. Soft hands had found their way to erogenous zones I didn’t even know I had and he’d remained close and held me the entire time, and the time after that. Was this his way of opening up? Of letting me in bit by bit?
There had been no kinkiness, no commands and no discipline, just an Alex I hadn’t seen or felt before. Whoever he was, he devastated me and left me feeling slightly more exposed than normal.
Not to say that I don’t like the other Alex. He shows me things I didn’t believe possible and I’m certainly expecting more of that version sooner or later. In fact, I’ve enjoyed that version of him a lot more than I thought I would. I’m finding myself wanting to beg him to do things to me, confusing as that might be. Those darkening eyes seem to tempt me into doing anything he wants with ease as a feeling of satisfaction wells up in me when I do as he asks. I never imagined this strange dominant world of his could be so playful. I’d always heard that you had to revel in pain or something equally unpleasant.
Dragging a black silk bathrobe from the back of the door, I set off to find him and my much needed coffee. Passing the hall table, I notice the time is after twelve. I can’t remember the last time I slept until lunchtime. Mr. White, it seems, is wearing me out.
“Good afternoon, sleepy head,” he says as I round the corner.
He stands against the counter cross-legged, holding a folded paper and drinking his coffee. In soft grey trousers and a white linen shirt, undone and rolled up to his elbows, he’s every inch the man in those aftershave commercials that all women hope they’ll have one day. His rippling stomach muscles and lightly tanned skin tantalise my eyes while his beaming smile enlightens my soul. I’m still in so much trouble here. If I didn’t need the coffee so badly, I’d be fainting or fanning myself repeatedly.
“Good morning,” I reply, smiling with joy at the vision before me and moving toward the coffee. “I can’t believe I slept so late. Have you been up long?” I ask, filling my cup and taking a long satisfying slurp.
“Yes, unfortunately duty called and I’ve been on the phone most of the morning,” he says dryly.
“Oh, poor you. This is the problem with empires to run and gazillions to make. There’s no time to simply be. How much did you make this morning, dear?” I laugh at my own sarcastic wit.
“Well, if you count losing the opportunity to make around a million because of someone’s incompetence then I suppose I’ve only made about one and a half,” he says with a wry smile. “Mind you, it is only lunch time. There’s plenty of time left yet.” What? How much?
The coffee cup slips from my hand and I immediately spit my coffee everywhere as I gape at him and start choking. Coughing and spluttering like a bloody idiot, I feel his hand patting my back while I try to right myself and he helps me pull myself together.
“Are you okay?” he asks, chuckling quietly, probably at my absurdity. I would be.
“That’s... That’s an obscene amount of money. And it’s Saturday, for fuck’s sake.” I now stand open mouthed, gaping at him. Who the hell makes that sort of money? What Saturday has to do with anything I don’t know.
“Actually I’m rather pleased with myself. I just poached something from someone that should make me a great deal more if I get it to the right place quick enough.” He grins and sips his coffee again, elegantly at that. I’m obviously a complete mess next to him. “Would you like another one?” he asks, inclining his head toward the machine.
“Umm, yes please,” I reply, suddenly feeling incredibly inferior. I mean, I knew he was wealthy but I hadn’t really thought about how wealthy he was. How rich is that? Shit. What am I doing here?
“Right.” He moves to pour me another one. “Well, as I’m my own boss and we’re in my favourite city, I suppose I should show you the sights today. Do you think I’ve made enough money to allow myself to turn my phone off for a few hours? You are the only person who’s apparently allowed to challenge my resolve when it comes to work without me exploding, so what do you think?” he says, softening his eyes.
“Alex, I... Uh... You’ve just told me the value of your day. I’m not sure I can tell you if you can take the afternoon off. What do I know about the worth of your time? I have no idea how much could go wrong or how much you could lose in a few hours. What if something goes wrong and you blame me? And what about...” I ramble aimlessly. The thought scares the shit out of me.
“Miss Scott, you informed me last night that I was, how did you put it? Oh yes... stupid if I didn’t enjoy my wealth, did you not?” he says, sounding like a very harsh barrister.
“Umm... Yes,” I reply on a squeak.
“So you infer that if I don’t turn off my phone, I may well look slightly ridiculous to you?” he continues. Shit, that’s not what I meant.
“Well, I don’t think I-” He cuts me off mid-sentence.
“Are you suggesting that you were wrong in your argumentative statement?” he states, eyes narrowing and moving toward me, smirking.
“No, I just meant that-”
“So you still believe that I’m stupid?” he interrupts as he unties my robe and pushes it aside.
“I didn’t say you were stupid. Only that the situation was,” I reply meekly. Fuck.
“And do you think that the amount of money makes a difference to the situation, Miss Scott? You’re the one whose integrity seems split here. Should the amount of money I make or lose during my time out change my mind?” he asks, lowering his mouth to my nipple. Can’t think.
“Oh, god, Alex.” I moan.
“You need to start answering my questions under pressure, Elizabeth,” he continues, lifting me up onto the counter and spreading my legs apart. “Perfect,” he whispers, gazing at me and pulling his finger down my stomach towards my sex. Good lord!
Does he really expect me to carry on with this discussion while almost naked? How on earth do I answer him, anyway? A lightning bolt of brilliance suddenly hits me. Perhaps I can manoeuvre my way out of the conversation without losing face. He won’t see it as long as I tread carefully and keep it sexy. It’s not like he doesn’t understand the art of manipulation. He’ll probably be amused by my attempt, and given that we’re going to have sex anyway, what does any of it matter?
“I think you should do as you wish, sir, and not that which you believe is expected of you,” I say quietly. That should do it - sweet, respectful and turning the tables on him.
A moment in time passes where we simply gaze into each other’s eyes. For my part, I’m simply wondering if he’s noticed my ploy. What’s circulating in his mind is anyone’s guess but suddenly his fingers still just above my belly button and he lifts them away from me. I wasn’t expecting that.
I watch as his eyes change. The edge of his irises slowly disappear to create almost black and then darkened blue begins to seep back towards his pupils, dissolving the earlier brightness and silently announcing a new arrival. I’ve at least managed to get away from the conversation, but his features now look black and disturbingly ominous. He takes a step back and stiffens slightly in his shoulders. It’s a movement that seems almost natural to him and if I hadn’t been watching him so intently, I wouldn’t have noticed the change in demeanour at all. But as I see some emotion pass across his eyes, he appears to remove himself and then he’s gone and another man stands in front of me.
His warm smile is now replaced by a detached stare and his casual, jovial tone has been relegated to some corner of his mind and I know I won’t see it again for a while. I realise all too late that I may have overstepped some imaginary line with my ploy and that perhaps this new man is a little pissed off with me for even trying to out-manoeuvre him.
“Do you think you c
an beat me at my own game, Elizabeth?” he says, lazily rolling his stare over my body. He noticed, and is definitely pissed.
“I... I wouldn’t try, Alex. I’m just not sure what you want me to say.” I try for the empathy card, hoping it will diffuse him a little. I know I’m clutching at straws but visions of whips and gags are suddenly floating through my mind.
“Don’t insult me, Elizabeth. You’ve shown your true colours already. You’re more than capable of indulging my politics. Your manipulation knows no bounds, so maybe you’re more than ready to indulge my other interests,” he says with an uncompromising tone.
The man before me is suddenly so much bigger and more powerful than I have ever noticed before. It’s actually a little scary. His demeanour is absolutely superior and his penetrating eyes burn a hole in my soul as a sneer forms on his beautiful mouth. I feel myself swallow and lower my head, feeling somehow ashamed of my little game and really very stupid. I may have won my battle with the bitch last night, but Mr. White is a lot harder to manipulate.
“And now she lowers her head.” He sighs as he walks past me without so much as a sideways glance. “Keep it lowered and follow me.”
I get down from the counter hesitantly to follow him to God knows what, rounding corners with no clue what’s coming.
“Take off the robe and go stand next to the bookshelves,” he demands while fiddling in his desk drawer for something. I do as he says, keeping my head lowered and grasping my hands in front of my thighs nervously as I look at the study floor. He walks past me out of the room and then returns a minute later holding the choker in his hand.
“Turn around.” I turn and look at the books. His hand forces my head down again.
“I will not say it again,” he says through gritted teeth. “I suggest you learn, fast.”
He puts the choker around my neck and turns me to face him again. Muttering to himself, he walks to the other end of the study and kicks the rolling stairs up towards me then moves me about two feet over and tells me to go up two steps. I do, although my confusion and very nervous feeling are beginning to make me question what the hell I’m doing.
He moves up one step, attaches the chain of my choker to something on the shelves and then returns to the floor. I can feel his eyes on me as he stands beneath me and I’m about to lift my head and ask him to stop this when he shifts and goes back to the desk. My insides churn over again.
“Would you like your hands tied or free?” he asks calmly. “Be very honest. I expect you to say what you want, not what you think is expected of you.” I can feel the irony of his statement hit me like a battering ram. My eyes flick up. His head inclines but his face remains stony and cold. It’s randomly erotic in a nasty sort of way. I have no idea what I want but I drop my eyes again and think of his fingers.
“Tied.” It’s out before I know it and I sense my core clench at the thought of rope.
He moves quickly and thoroughly, securing each of my wrists with rope at two points on the shelves, leaving me positioned like a cross on the steps. Tension fills my body. I’m not sure if it’s through excitement or fear but something just doesn’t feel quite right about what’s happening.
“Look at me,” he states. I look up to see a long rigid whip in his hand. “The steps will move if you put uneven pressure on them. Try it,” he orders quietly. I move my feet a little and slowly the steps move to the right. Pressure drags on my left wrist and my choker tightens. I gasp at the sensation and look back at him for some clarification as to what the hell is happening.
“Good, now you’ve got the idea. I’m going to make you come using this,” he says, holding up the whip. “And you’re going to control yourself because if you don’t, the steps will go too far and you’ll be left hanging. Actually, I wouldn’t mind that at all, but the choker is worth quite a lot of money so best you don’t break it,” he continues, gazing coldly at me.
“Alex, I’m not sure I can do this,” I say, lowering my head again and trying to find something to hold onto with my hands. There’s nothing and I feel myself truly beginning to panic a little.
“Oh but you can, Elizabeth. You want it more than you know. Remember that you’re the one who asked for this. You tried to manipulate me and you called this part of me out. If you don’t want to continue at any point, just say stop. It’s quite simple. Lower your head again,” he says, tilting his own to the side. “Are you nervous?” Fuck, yes.
“Yes,” I reply, staring back down to the floor.
He moves toward me and pushes his hand between my legs. “Wider,” he demands, forcing my legs apart roughly until I’m on the very edges of the step. He pulls two fingers through my core and licks the blatantly obvious slick arousal from them. “Nerves seem to agree with you. Perhaps I’ll go for nervous with you more often.” He laughs a little to himself and pushes his fingers into my mouth. “Suck,” he barks, so I do and the moment the taste of myself hits my tongue, I hear my own groan leave my mouth. He pulls his fingers out abruptly and backs away with a small smile.
The whip rises in his hand and gently lands in between my breasts. The tip of it has a long piece of silken rope hanging from it, which at this point seems to tickle a bit, and as he circles both of my breasts then drags it along my stomach, I sigh with pleasure for the first time. Soft tingling sensations shoot across my skin like a lazy wind blowing, which only intensifies every nerve in me and causes me to close my eyes and relax into the feeling. I’m not sure how long this goes on for, but I can definitely feel the pressure throbbing in my core as the swirling motions of the whip keep enticing a new wave of desire to heat its way through my body. The relaxing buzz in my groin begins to grow to a slightly uncomfortable ache and I feel all the weight in my body force down through my legs into my feet, almost planting me in place as I moan out. The whip unexpectedly leaves my skin and lands with some force on my thigh. My eyes shoot open.
“Ouch,” I shout sharply, looking back up, but weirdly, the painful sting on my thigh actually begins to turn into a very pleasurable, warm burn. It’s odd, stimulating. Strange.
“I didn’t say you could enjoy yourself, Elizabeth. I will not tolerate manipulation from you and if I have to tell you one more time to lower your fucking head, I will strap it down.”
His voice is angry now, resentful even, and I try to swallow the fear that’s starting to claw its way up my spine. His face is still cold and unwavering in his reprimand and I nervously stare into his eyes as I suddenly realise the severity of my situation. I’m hung up for him and on display with no ability to run. Where has my Alex gone? This isn’t a man I know or trust. Was one small gesture of defiance enough to send him over the edge of reason? This is supposed to be fun, isn’t it?
From somewhere deep inside me, I pull up enough courage to try and find him again.
“Alex, you’re scaring me a little here,” I say quietly.
“There’s no need to be scared, Elizabeth. You’re just learning a very valuable lesson, and regardless of how you think you feel, you do want this, so you’ll have to trust me. Do you want me to stop?” he says as he moves closer, turns the whip and slowly pushes the handle end inside me.
“Oh, God...” I cry out as he holds it perfectly still. Do I want him to stop? My body definitely doesn’t. My brain's a bloody mess, though.
“Tell me to stop if that’s what you want,” he says, beginning to circle it around.
The feeling is exquisite and incredibly intense. I hadn’t realised how close my orgasm was but the delicious sparks igniting every nerve ending again remind me of my impending bliss. I feel my legs buckling and the step moves to the left, stretching my right arm. Oh God, please. The choker tightens and I tip my head backwards and try to regain my balance. My thighs tremble as I pull the steps back towards the middle, the whip still circling and now pushing in and out in a steady pounding rhythm.
“Good girl. You will not come until you are told,” he says softly, moving his head to my groin.
&nbs
p; One long swipe of his tongue against my very sensitive clit and I’m losing it. My calves feel it first, and trying to hold myself together is agony as the step starts shifting sideways. The force on my wrists feels like torture and bliss rolled together, and the constant pull on my throat satisfies that unyielding new need to feel controlled somehow. No matter how much I try to fight it, the pressure that is wrapping my body is exquisite. He keeps pushing the whip and circling his tongue, his teeth finding my nub with bites of pain every now and then while I shudder and moan above him. I’m so close. The fear of earlier seems to have gone and has been replaced with arousal, flooding every sense. I know there’s no stopping what’s coming as my core begins to explode inside me, filling me with euphoric feelings of oncoming pleasure as it chases its way through my stomach.
“Do not come, Elizabeth,” he snarls.
“Alex, I can’t hold it back,” I almost scream.
In one swift movement, his tongue and the whip are removed and his hand connects with my backside sharply, and then again. The abrupt smacking sensation instantly brings my mind and legs back together as the heat of my orgasm retreats a little, but the incredible burn that follows only seems to intensify my desire to let go completely.
“Oh god, that’s good,” I moan before I think about it and tilt my head back.
“You will hold it back until you are told to come. Do you understand me?” he growls.
I feel wetness slide down my legs as I tremble again and move the steps. I can’t answer him. I can’t think, let alone talk. I suddenly notice my mind drifting away as if I were looking down on myself, and yet every nerve continues to send a signal to my groin - more. The choker tightens again, causing the binds to constrict. The biting pain seems to have its own direct current straight down to my core and as I feel a breeze skim delicately across my body, it ignites inside me.
“Please, Alex, I want to come. I can’t...” I moan, straining against the restraints.
I can’t stop the moaning as I feel myself shivering from the beautifully intense sensations of the ropes. My eyes begin to roll back in my head and I tilt myself into the bonds, letting the biting and constricting blissful torture flow through my body. The steps shift beneath me and I feel my weight falling, but the unrelenting fire in my core carries on of its own accord, pulsing and throbbing so quickly that I give up fighting the step and let my body fall into the ropes and my explosion. Lights start flashing before my closed eyes and the world seems to go quiet. My frantic heartbeat is the only thing I hear as my limbs become weightless and the throbbing intensifies again. A calm serenity seems to wash over me as I let the world die away. I’m in a place somewhere between darkness and enlightenment and all I can feel are waves of pleasure rolling through me, seemingly pulling me to a place of heavenly peace, stretching my body and feelings to another level entirely.
Seeing White Page 32
