Moments or hours pass before I slowly realise I’m being held up. My legs are wrapped around his hips and warm hands are soothing my back.
“You’re safe. I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.” he whispers in my ear repeatedly with a tender tone. “I’m never letting you go.” I slowly open my eyes and see a concerned Alex looking back at me, his hands tightening around me. “Hi.” He smiles openly. “Just hold onto me for a bit longer. I can’t get you out until you can stand,” he says, kissing my cheeks and hoisting me up higher so the choker hangs loose on my neck. I sigh and look into eyes again, softer and less stormy. Lovely. Although, what the fuck just happened?
I move to right myself on his hips and the button on his trousers rubs against my very sensitive nub. I gasp as the familiar bite of oncoming bliss rips through me and my spasms start again. The thought makes me try to back off from him but he pushes forward into me again and smiles wickedly. Oh, Jesus. I can’t do that again, can I?
“Yes,” I hiss, moaning deliriously as I tip my head back.
“Look at me. Stay with me for this one, baby. I need to see you,” he says, slowly grinding into me and splaying his fingers across my back to support me.
“I can’t. Please stop me... Oh god, please.” I groan, trying to find the energy to grip onto him and failing. I’m exhausted. There’s nothing left after the first one and yet I need to do this again.
He moves his head to my nipple and bites down on it, sucking and swirling his tongue around as I feel myself pushing against his groin against my own will. Lifting his head again, I look deep into his eyes and let myself go again. So close. Heat begins to build through me and my rapture consumes me in seconds. Wave after wave of ecstasy rips through me again and again. My legs go loose around him, and I hear the groan of satisfaction coming from him as I ride the end of my orgasm and let myself fall into his embrace.
“So damn perfect,” he mumbles, bending to kiss my chest. Panting hard, I try to slow my breathing yet again as he brings me back up towards him. “Open your eyes and look at me, baby. I need you to try and stand up so I can untie you.”
Yes, ropes. I’d forgotten about them. But now he mentions it they are hurting me, scratching actually. He slowly releases his grip on my thighs and guides my feet back to the step.
“Steady, take your time,” he says quietly. My feet wobble a bit but I nod at him and take my own weight. As the first wrist is released, an odd feeling sweeps over me. Is it anger or fear? The second is released and I rub at my wrists. A slight pain bites into me as I flex my joints out. Pain and anger, yes, definitely anger. How dare he do this to me? I am pissed. I frown and look at the floor while trying to control my emotions. Why am I so angry?
“You okay?” he asks from three feet away.
I look at the reddened marks on my wrists and lift my hands to the choker. My throat feels a little raw but also wonderfully sinful in an erotic type of way. I tilt my neck from side to side, trying to process my pain, pleasure thing. I have no idea what it is. Or if I like it or not.
“Take this off please,” I ask shakily without looking at him. He does swiftly in typical Alex style and returns to stand in front of me, still three feet away.
“How angry do you feel?” he asks, chuckling. I lift my eyes to his. Very fucking angry. Why? I have no idea about that either, and is he fucking laughing at me? “Good. You did very well for your first time, but it will take a while to get your head around the fact that you enjoyed so much pain.” Apparently jovial Alex has returned now and is being as condescending as usual.
Frowning again, I walk closer to him.
“You think something is funny, Alex?” I say, my palm twitching at my side. Am I really considering slapping him?
“No, baby, not funny at all. I just can’t believe how perfect you are. I’ve never seen a more responsive or intuitive submissive. Your desire to please me, and yourself, is so ingrained you don’t even know you’re doing it,” he says with his amused smirk firmly plastered on. “You have no idea of your potential.” Potential? Arsehole.
My hand flies and connects with his face before I know what’s happened. Boiling with rage, I stare at him. He doesn’t flinch. He just takes it and continues to gaze at me in adoration. I feel my hand lift of its own accord to do the same again. He snatches at my wrist and gently pushes my arm back down as he pulls me towards him forcefully and clamps his arm around my back.
“Only once, Elizabeth. I haven’t let anyone slap me for a long time and I suppose I deserved it, but don’t fucking irritate me. I did push you a little, and I might be sorry that I scared you, but it needed to be done,” he says with a smile, lifting my hand to soothe his reddening cheek. My anger softens slightly as he nuzzles and pulls me closer to him. “You are so beautiful. So fucking beautiful. I can’t believe I’ve found you,” he says softly, kissing my forehead and leaning me into him.
“Alex.”
“Yes, baby?”
“If you ever make me feel afraid again, I’ll be gone. Do you understand?” I state from his chest, trying to process what the hell is happening to me.
“Then we’ll have to work harder on trust,” he replies with a sigh, brushing the hair from my face.
“I can’t trust the man I just met, Alex. He’s not you.” That man was some sort of monster, even if I did enjoy him. I think. Or maybe not. I don’t fucking know anything.
“Yes, baby, he is. He’s there all the time. I just haven’t let you see him before now. If you look deep enough, you’ll notice him more.” He reaches for his shirt and drapes it around my shoulders. I shrug into it and he scoops me up into his arms and heads back to the lounge.
“But on the plane?” I question. He gently lowers me to the couch, kisses my lips and moves to the cabinet in the corner of the room.
“No, baby, that wasn’t him. That was me assessing you. We need to talk about some things. I hadn’t planned on doing it here but as I’ve just revealed a little of myself, I might as well get it out of the way and then you can make your decisions. Would you like a drink?”
He obviously doesn’t wait for a reply because when I look up, he’s standing in front of me with two large glasses of what appears to be brandy or something. He offers one to me and sits down at the other end of the couch. I pull my knees up to my chest and look to the floor, desperately seeking some inspiration for how I feel. Of course nothing is leaping to mind apart from confusion and something akin to sympathy for my own tormented brain.
“Drink it. It will help calm you down.”
I swish the liquid around and gaze up at the fire. Do I want to know what he’s about to say? Is this the end of someone I thought I was getting to know? I lift the liquid and down it. Definitely brandy, and god it’s good as it heats my throat and eases my frazzled nerves. I hold the glass out and indicate that I want another. He chuckles and reaches for the decanter.
Pouring the wonderful liquor into the glass, he looks at his watch and then opens his beautiful mouth.“What do you really know of Domination and submission, Elizabeth?”
“Not a lot, I suppose. I’ve never really thought about it that much,” I reply in a small voice, swishing the glass around. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as if something is, or is about to be, painful in some way. I can’t help but feel a little satisfied about it given the last however long in the study.
“There are two types of dominant - good ones and bad ones. Good ones adore women. They worship the ground they walk on and spend most of their time trying to achieve a permanent state of pleasure and contentment for their subs. Or anyone else’s for that matter. I’m not one of them, but then I’ve never had a reason to be.” Great. I frown and keep looking at my drink. “So I’m going to tell you something that might make you understand me a little better. I want you to trust me to look after you and I think you need to hear this to do that. Hopefully if I trust you with this, maybe we can move on.”
I look up into his anxious eyes and see a stran
gely uncomfortable and vulnerable looking man. My heart melts a little more, albeit my body is still too tense to be entirely devoted to his troubles. I do reach forward and take his hand in mine though. No matter how I feel, he is about to share something that clearly means a great deal to him and I want him to feel open enough to tell me about it. He leans back into the sofa and gazes at me for a few minutes, chewing the side of his lip. It’s adorable and I smile quietly across at him. Maybe he’s reconsidering? I run my fingers over his hand to encourage him to continue.
“My childhood was very difficult. I ended up fighting and getting into a lot of trouble. The police were often involved and for varying reasons, I ended up in care. When I was sixteen, I left and decided it was time to start over somewhere else. There was nothing and no one left so I took control of my own life,” he says calmly.
“Rome,” I muse, still running my fingers over his. He nods and lifts our hands to his mouth.
“I met Giuseppe as you know, who helped me to find at least some sort of normalcy to life. His family were kind and they gave me a home and a job, but I guess I was just too fucked up to accept it. I got into more and more trouble, leading him along with me, and sadly I didn’t care. I didn’t seem to know how to do anything about it anyway so I just got deeper into my madness. The day after my twentieth birthday, I left and never looked back,” he says, sighing and refilling his glass. “Conner found me again a few years later in some high-end club in London, off my face on coke with some woman or another. My life had become a turbulent world of criminal activity and decidedly dubious encounters. I’d made quite a lot of money doing things I shouldn’t have done and had a good reputation for being a very bad boy. He helped me find a path out of it and eventually a way to clean myself up a little - well to some degree anyway.” He gulps back another large brandy.
“You said again,” I question as I try to ignore the fact that he’s just told me he’s been a criminal and a druggie, and given his domineering presence, probably quite a good criminal.
I’ll think about that later.
“What?” he replies, looking slightly startled by the question.
“Conner... You said he found you again?” I respond as I sip at my drink and look at him over the rim of the glass.
“Ah yes, I shouldn’t have said that. Trust you to pick up on it. You’re far too clever for your own good, young lady. That’s Conner’s story to tell. I’m sure he will if you ask him. But needless to say, I knew him before,” he says with a mysterious smile and a wink as he pulls my feet into his lap.
“Oh right. Well thank you for sharing. You didn’t have to and I know it wasn’t easy for you.”
“I haven’t finished. Conner helped me find channels to relieve my aggression. He taught me what it feels like to be in control of myself and to determine my own future. I owe him everything. In a roundabout way he introduced me to my preferences, and from that I learnt to manage my anger. It allows me to organize my mind more... appropriately,” he says, gazing at me for a reaction.
“Are you telling me that you need to do this sort of stuff simply to contain yourself or something?” And does Conner need it, too? Shit. Belle. She’s not going to be up for that at all.
“Well, I rather enjoy it as well, but yes, fundamentally. I like the control. I need it. It keeps me sane and stops me from remembering too much.” He smiles softly and runs his fingers up my legs. “But whilst I am a dominant, I’m not necessarily inclined to behave like a very decent one, and besides, I’ve grown tired of the term. It has become a little… restricting.”
Restricting? I have no idea what that means. How can being a dominant be restricting in any way? Isn’t that the point of the term to dominate, as in do whatever the hell you like? But hey, if it keeps him sane then I suppose it’s a good thing for him. Is it for me?
“Right, so are you suggesting that to be with you, I have to accept that this will be part of our relationship whether I like it or not?” I say, removing my hand from his.
“Yes, to be in a relationship, this is what part of me will need from you,” he states rather bluntly, looking toward my hands and tightening his own around my calf.
“No other explanation?” I ask, now slightly irritated for some reason at his lack of further information regarding the topic.
“No, not really. But I can tell you that you’re made for this, for me. You only have to trust me and you’ll find everything you never knew you needed.” I frown and think of the last hour or so. Do I really want that sort of relationship? Did I enjoy the pain as much as he’s indicating I did?
“Are you suggesting I’m some sort of masochist?” I ask with a twinkle of amusement at the thought. Beth Scott, caterer and cook, built for pain? Unlikely.
“I’m not sure I’d go quite that far yet, but fundamentally, yes. I think you’re entirely compatible with what I want from us. I’m just not sure you’re ready to understand it.” I look at him with confusion again, pretty sure he’s completely right but not really comprehending the overall meaning of his statement in the slightest.
He reaches forward and takes the glass from my hand. Putting it on the table, he waggles his fingers at me to suggest that he wants me closer to him. I slide over to him and look into those incredible penetrating eyes as he stares back at me with a smirk.
“Why did you just scoot over to me?” he asks, quite seriously.
“Because you asked me to,” I reply with valid confusion.
“No I didn’t. I indicated that I needed you and you responded without thinking, regardless of the fact that I’ve just put you through a rather intense situation. You knew I was angry and yet you still didn’t tell me to stop. You see, in spite of your confusion, you wanted what I was offering.” He smiles and draws his fingers along my jaw. “So please don’t take yourself away from me simply because you don’t understand everything yet.”
“I... I don’t understand what happened in there,” is my quiet response, pointing vaguely in the direction of the study.
“No, you don’t, but I do and I can help you with that. We just need time and we don’t have it because my saviour will be here in ten minutes and I have to speak to him before he flies home.”
“Oh, right,” What else can I say to that?
“Look, have a bath, get dressed and we’ll talk about it again later if you want. I’ll tell you everything you need to know. I thought we’d go for a tour around the city. I have lots of places I’d like to share with you. Perhaps you’ll be a little more relaxed then?”
Relaxed? There’s not a lot of relaxing going on in my head at the moment. Okay, my body is completely lax but my mind is very much not.
I look at him for a moment and take in the smouldering man in front of me while he gazes at me, waiting for an answer. Beautiful from head to toe, he’s everything a girl could dream of and more. But it seems to come at a cost and I’m really not sure if I want to pay it. I shake my head at my own ridiculous thoughts as I get up and head toward the bathroom. I don’t know who it is that I’m trying to fool because the fact of the matter is that I’ll let him take me further. I can’t imagine those hands ever being away from me again.
“Elizabeth,” he calls.
“Yes,” I reply as I get to the bottom of the stairs.
“Turn around.”
I turn around and see him leaning gracefully against the wall in the hallway, a dazzling smile adorning his stupidly sexy face and his shirtless, lean body glistening under the hall lights at me.
“It’ll be worth it. You know that, don’t you?” he says, easing off the wall and walking toward me.
“What will?” I ask. Good lord he’s just stunning, and I can tell he knows it with every step toward me. Arrogant bastard, using his superhuman good looks to lull me into a false sense of security while secretly plotting to whip the shit out of me or something. I can’t believe I’m contemplating any of this crap. The fact that my body’s suddenly buzzing with tingly nerves again and my jaw i
s hanging open at his stalking manoeuvre is neither here nor there.
“Us,” he replies, lowering his head to brush his lips across mine, barely skimming them.
He hooks his thumbs under the collar of my shirt and drags it over my shoulders. I feel my breath hitch and my heart rate increase. Oh god, where’s this going. We’ve only got ten minutes. Spinning the shirt over his back, he shrugs his arms into it, starts to do up the buttons and makes a spinning gesture with his finger.
“Go on then, off you go and have a good think. I’ll want your answer by this evening.” He smirks and slaps my backside playfully as I frown at him and turn.
“Ouch, that hurt,” I squeal, quite pathetically really, and looking over my shoulder at him as he heads in the other direction. Those long legs glide purposefully as he swipes his phone from the table and chuckles to himself, annoying me with his superiority of my dishevelment.
“Not as much as the next one will now I know your tolerance for it,” he replies as he turns the corner. My legs tremble again. What the hell is that?
Chapter 21
Elizabeth
M r White and Rome… What more could a girl want?
Seeing White Page 33
