Standing and reaching for her hand, he continued. “Elizabeth, it has been a pleasure. He will be worth your love should you choose to give it and if you don’t, call me. I can’t say I will be anywhere near as worthy but we would have fun finding out. No?” He handed her his card, nodded and moved toward Draven with a scowl.
Alex watched his friend-come-tormentor move away. What the fuck was happening here? Pascal had given her his card? To offer what exactly? Fuck. His eyes narrowed at the bastard’s scheming brain as he turned back and looked at her confused eyes.
“What do you want from me, Elizabeth?” he asked with a tilt of his head.
“Eventually? Everything, Alex,” she said with that mischievous smile of hers coming back. “For now, in this moment, I just want you to show me all that you can.”
“Here, in this place?” he replied, waving his hand around and frowning. The thought fucking disturbed him. He’d never had a single kind emotion in here or feeling of any sort for that matter apart from control, and that emotion was not one he was feeling at the moment. Besides, he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with what the hell was happening in his head anyway.
“Why not? This is part of you, isn’t it? I assume it’s why you brought me here.” She licked her lips and kissed him lightly. “But if you feel you’re not capable of making me do as you wish anymore then...” she said as she gave him her award winning smirk and placed her hands on her hips. He groaned and felt his dick jump to attention again. Feisty little minx.
He wasn’t about to ignore her request now that she’d challenged him, so he threw her over his shoulder, slapped her glorious arse and pushed his way through the bar. Normally he’d drag a woman, or they’d simply follow behind with their heads lowered, but this was different. She was different, and the need to carry her overwhelmed him. He walked with purpose toward a passing waiter, who with one focused look kneeled on the floor and raised a tray holding champagne.
“Grab the glasses, Elizabeth,” he called over his shoulder as he took a long drink from the bottle.
“Ooh, I think I like this version of you,” she said, clasping the flutes. “Did that man really just kneel on the floor? Are we in bloody Narnia or something?” She giggled. It was fucking adorable.
“Don’t giggle, for fuck’s sake. You’ll make me look like a fraud,” he said, smiling at the floor as he continued walking, the crowd clearing for him.
“Well I think you might be, Mr. White,” she replied, now laughing with abandon and squeezing his arse.
“I’ll show you a fraud, Miss Scott. Grinding your backside into Pascal most definitely deserves some punishment,” he said, sinking his teeth into her backside.
“Ouch, that hurt. Do it again,” she said as she pulled his shirt from his trousers and kissed his lower back. “Where are you taking me anyway?”
“My room,” he said, taking another drink from the bottle and turning right along the back corridor.
“You have your own room? Do you own this place, too?” she exclaimed. He chuckled.
“No, this is Pascal’s venture, much to my irritation, and he makes a lot of money out of it,” he replied, reaching for the door in front of him.
Pressing his thumb against the pad at the side of the door, it softly clicked open.
“I bet he does,” she said as she continued trailing her lovely fingers across him.
He placed her on the floor, closed the door behind them and took the glasses. Then moving across the floor towards the table, he filled the two glasses and turned back to watch her. She stared at him for a moment and took a step into the room gingerly.
He gazed at her every expression as she edged her way forward, taking in her surroundings. She moved toward the four-poster bed and softly brushed her fingers across the black comforter, then traced her hand up the carved wooden post at the foot of the bed. Her hair shimmered in the low red lighting and the slight tremble in her legs as he saw her notice the cross at the other end of the room almost had him coming in his pants.
“St Andrew’s cross,” he said quietly as he approached her, holding out her glass.
“Oh, for restraining I assume,” she said calmly, her eyebrow raised as she took the drink. He nodded and took a sip, slipping his hand into his pocket to adjust his dick.
She resumed her wandering and brushed her hand over the rack of various implements on display for torture and bondage. Her face was a picture of confusion and interest as she fingered each object with delicate hands and eventually stared at the ropes hanging on the wall with a smile.
“Why do you have so many ropes? I mean that long? I mean, why would they need to be so long?” she asked as she tilted her head and looked confused. Christ, that rambling was cute. Cute? What the fuck? He nodded upwards.
“Suspension. Look above you,” he replied as he watched her reaction to the hooks and rings in the ceiling.
“Oh, right,” she said with one of those adorable giggles as her hands returned to the table and poked at a ball gag.
“None of those are for you yet,” he said gently as he noticed a slight frown on her face. She hesitated with her hand on a steel spreader bar and looked at him.
“How many women have you had in here? Or men?”
“I don’t have a preference for men.” He hoped she would stop at that. She really didn’t need to know any more at the moment. Quite frankly, the vision of her small, pale hands on the spreader was just too much for him and he couldn’t find anything else to say anyway.
“Has Pascal been in here?” He tilted his head. Her intuition surprised him. What had she noticed?
“No.” It wasn’t a lie. They always went to his room, or one of the others.
She watched him intently for a few seconds so he tried to remain impassive, but that was getting harder by the day with her. His cock twitched as she licked her lips and moved toward him.
“I think you’re keeping something from me, Mr. White,” she said with a smirk. “It doesn’t matter. I was just curious. So what do you have planned for me while we’re in here?”
Never had he felt so put on the spot in his life. He wasn’t even sure if this was what he wanted or how he could do this and have feelings at the same time.
“Would you like my mouth wrapped around you while you think about it?” Her hand pressed against his cock as she reached for his belt. He hadn’t got a clue where this woman had come from, but regardless he still growled at the thought and grabbed at her hands before she got the chance. No fucking way would he last ten minutes if that’s how it started.
Right, get yourself together, White. Time to play.
He inched her backwards away from him and stood her in the middle of the room.
“I think you’ve had enough of this for a while,” he said, removing the glass from her hand and placing it on the table. He watched her swallow as she realised the fun was about to begin. “Do you want the full effect, Elizabeth, or a more relaxed version?” he asked.
Her eyes drifted to his hands as he removed his cufflinks, unbuttoned his shirt and dragged it over his shoulders.
“I’ll take whatever you think I can handle, sir. I’ll trust you to know what I need.” He chuckled in response and threw his shirt on the chair. Never once had she used the title properly before. He couldn’t work out if he liked it or not.
“Take the dress off, Elizabeth, and give it to me,” he demanded. Lovely as it was, he wanted to see what was beneath it more.
“Yes, sir,” she said nervously.
He watched her unzip the dress and push it down her body seductively, then hold it out in front of her. He swiped it from her fingers, threw it to join his shirt and looked at her in all her glory. A grey silk bra and g-string were all that was covering her, and those fucking incredible legs ended in a pair of elegant sling backs. He’d never had such a divine beauty stood in this room. The vison made him groan inwardly, still unsure how to proceed.
“I’m going to put you on that cross, Eliza
beth, and then I’m going to play with you so I need you to choose a safeword.” She frowned, not understanding. “I mean a word that you will say if you’ve reached your limit. Stop will not be enough for me to hear you and you’ll probably say it anyway, even if you don’t mean it,” he said, gazing at her face.
“Oh. Umm... Chess, is that okay?” she replied. He smiled and nodded.
“Perfect. There will be times when you want to say it but try not to until you can’t bear it anymore. I’ll stop the moment you utter the word.”
“Okay.” She nodded, biting her delicious lip and looking nervous all of a sudden.
Holding out his hand, he walked them to the cross and positioned her against it. Travelling his fingers across her perfect skin, he lifted her hands gently into the cuffs and secured the straps. “Open your legs wider,” he stated as he reached for the bottom restraints. She positioned her legs and he couldn’t help but notice the soft moan as he ratcheted the leg cuffs around her ankles. Smiling and licking his lips, he took a step back to admire her. “Breathtaking,” he muttered as he moved over to the table. She looked utterly irresistible, every curve of her body moulding to the cross effortlessly as if she were made for this. Her calm demeanour surprised him but also heightened the erotic nature of the room. She closed her eyes and let her head rest against the wood, allowing her body to be bound without testing the effectiveness of the restraints. Complete trust. When had he deserved that from her? He’d given her so little assurance when it came to this side of him. He picked up a soft flogger and moved across to her.
“Look at me, Elizabeth.” She opened her eyes and looked at the flogger. He moved forward and dragged it across her skin. “It won’t hurt you. Just let yourself feel the sensation.” She nodded and closed her eyes again. He drew his hand back and started the process of gently flogging her breasts and thighs. Her breathing immediately quickened and he watched as the rise and fall of her ribcage increased. She tugged at the wrist cuffs moaning and twisted her body slightly to try and alleviate the pressure. Fucking hell. Instant gratification poured across his body and he was suddenly desperate to feel how wet she was. She couldn’t possibly be ready that quickly.
Grabbing at the sides of her panties, he ripped them from her body. Her eyes shot open, a small gasp coming out of her mouth before she moaned in torment.
“Alex, please...”
He reached down and found her dripping with arousal, ready for anything he had to offer. The slick feeling also made him realise his dick much preferred his own name being spoken by her.
“So wet for me, Elizabeth. Do you want to come for me?” he said, slowly inserting two fingers and moving them with slow deliberate movements. “Would you prefer my cock in here?” he continued, sucking a delicious nipple into his mouth and biting down on it.
“Oh god, yes, fuck me please.” He chuckled and moved to the other nipple, teasing it with sharp nips as he drew the flogger up between her legs and put pressure on her clit. The strands of leather mingled with her juices as he continued his relentless slow torture on her insides.
“Hold it back, baby. It will be so much better if you keep control of it. Do I need to stop?”
“God, no, just ahh.... Oh fuck.”
She near screamed as the beginnings of her orgasm took hold. He felt the moment when her legs started to give beneath her and her body fell into the wrist supports. He groaned and rubbed his cock against her thigh. Fuck, he was minutes away himself, and that wasn’t fucking happening. He moved backwards and removed his hands from her, watching as she writhed in ecstasy on the cross. Her eyes snapped open as she felt his withdrawal and she frowned while regaining her footing, fighting with the cuffs violently.
“Please, Alex,” she begged. Fuck he loved to hear her beg for it, and that damned snarl of impatient irritation was mesmerising to him.
“You’ll wait until I’m ready, Elizabeth, he snapped, as he walked to the table and picked up the nipple clamps. Her eyes widened and she gasped a breath in as he pinched them together to show his intent. “These will help you focus a bit,” he said as he removed her bra and put the first one on her. Her hiss as the first one bit down did nothing to stop his ardour, and he felt his now damned painful cock trying to break its way through his pants. The next clamp elicited the same response as he licked his way around them and moved his hand between her legs again. His thumb skimmed her clit and her head flew backwards as she moaned, almost collapsing into the cuffs. He rubbed in small circles and moved back a step to watch her grinding against his hand. Jesus, she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. He found himself wanting to make her come over and over again, not for his pleasure but for hers.
“Let go, baby. Come for me.” Her eyes opened and she focused on his with an angry intensity he hadn’t seen before. Pure, unadulterated desire swept across her features as she let her body give in to the pressure he’d placed her under. Her whole body began to shake in response and the erotic blush of pink travelled across her skin as she came violently onto his hand.
He watched in fascination as her breathing started to slow and she hung limply, her head lowered and her hair hanging around her cheeks. Beautiful was not enough of a word to describe the image of her strapped back onto the cross. His mind reeled suddenly with visions of suspension ropes and knots. Not many women had retained his interest enough for the patience and control it took to hang them up. Certainly not untrained subs like her, but his fingers itched at the prospect as he continued to gaze at her.
She took in a long breath, as her tongue licked full pink lips, and she started to take the weight on her legs again. Standing and twisting her head from side to side, she slowly brought her eyes up to meet his. The look that met him almost had him drooling with the desire to fuck her. Hooded eyes and a slow sultry smile spread across her face as she looked at the table next to him.
“Is that all you’ve got, sir?” she said huskily, keeping her gaze on his eyes, challenging him.
It wasn’t what he was expecting, and he fought hard to keep his eyebrows from shooting upwards and his grin from breaking across his face. She wanted more, she could have it.
“No, Elizabeth it’s not. Are you ready for more?” Her eyes focused on the bullwhip and he found himself questioning if he was able to do that to her. “You’re not ready for it, Elizabeth. Don’t push yourself, or me for that matter,” he said with an edge of unease in his voice that he hadn’t heard for a long time. He’d like nothing better than to see her all striped up from a good lashing, but she wasn’t going to be happy with that amount of pain. She might be submissive, and he knew he’d found something special, but too much too quickly and this would end before he started it.
“If you think you’re not ready, I won’t beg you for it,” she spat, an element of venom in the words. He scowled at her, unable to stop the rise of Dominance taking over. Where the fuck had this woman come from? It was as if the scene, the club, or the room had allowed her to become everything he knew she could be eventually, but he’d expected her want for pain to come much later. He should wait. He shouldn’t do this. She had no idea what she was suggesting, but fuck the thought was tempting.
He walked closer to her and began to undo the foot restraints. Kissing his way up her leg, he paused at her sex to taste her. She moaned and tugged again at the cuffs on her wrists. “Let me touch you,” she said with that anger in her voice. Submissive? Not a bloody chance. He was suddenly restraining a tiger and the thought ‘switch’ came to mind far too rapidly for his liking.
“No,” he responded firmly. This topping from the bottom was fun but he needed to regain some control before he lost it completely. He continued onto her wrists and moved her over to the post on the bed. Turning her away from him, he pushed her roughly against the tall post and kicked her legs apart. She moaned again.
“Hands up above your head,” he growled as he slapped her backside with more force than he’d intended. “You like it when I’m rough with you, don’t you
? Do you want it harder?” She ground back into him, presenting her arse for more.
“Yes, I want it all,” she breathed out. “Show me.”
He tied her hands to the post with the rope bindings and positioned her hands to a holding grip around the carvings. Tying her hair up with a band from the table and grabbing the whip, he dragged it down her stomach and pulled the length of it between her legs through her soaking core. She moaned again and shifted her stance to widen her endless legs further.
“You have to tell me if you want me to do this. What is your safe word, Elizabeth?” She continued grinding and didn’t answer. “Elizabeth, safe word!” He felt himself shouting to get her attention, knowing that the moment he started this he might slip away. Nothing pleased him as much as a whip in his hand. The simple weight of it was already altering his breathing.
“Chess,” she mumbled, pushing her arse against him. He noticed her fingers whitening with the pressure of her grip on the post. She was drifting, not quite aware what was happening, so he moved to the side so he could look into her eyes and grabbed her chin.
“Elizabeth, tell me you want this or we stop now.” Her eyes glazed slightly as she fought to move her mouth. “Tell me!” Her face jumped back in response to the shouted order, then softened again.
“I want this. I want you, all of you,” she replied as she turned back to the post. “Do it, Alex.”
He removed the whip slowly and stood back away from her quietly, watching intently as she pulled herself up straight and looked over her shoulder at him. The smouldering look she gave him while having the front to wink and smile sent shivers through his entire body. Never had any woman had the balls to wink at him in a scene. He kept his face expressionless but as she turned her head and calmed herself for the whip, he couldn’t help but smile.
He watched as she pulled in a long breath and lowered her head to the side of the post, bracing her shoulder against it. She was entering herself, trying to find her own private space in this moment, and he gazed in awe at the ability that came so naturally to her. It was captivating, enamouring. Enough so that he nearly lost where he was as he tried to remember to talk to her about it later. She probably hadn’t even got a clue what she was doing to herself.
Seeing White Page 37
