“We’ll start with ten. You’ll count them out loud. Do you understand?” he questioned, hoping to God that she wasn’t about to run for the hills as she felt a small part of the man she was asking for.
“Yes,” she said dreamily.
Drawing back the whip, he let it fly toward her with precision and softly land on her right thigh. She gasped, moaned incoherently and shifted her weight. “One. Harder,” she ground out at him.
Pulling back again, he let the next one go with a little more vigour, basically to chastise the naughtiness in her response to the first. It landed on her left hip bone with a crack that had him growling instantly.
“Yes... Oh god. Two,” she hissed as she flung her head back and released a breath.
He smiled at the vision and waited, ready to inflict more once he’d finished watching he writhe. The pain level she’d endure was much heavier than he’d thought, but then the need for it was quicker than he’d thought too. Maybe masochist wasn’t so far away after all.
He let four more fly in different directions as he watched her bending and flexing her back, wincing slightly at the pain. Unbelievably, she seemed to be drifting off into her subspace, though, studiously counting the strokes and pushing her groin against the post to increase her friction. She was close. He could see the slick evidence of desire dripping down her thighs as she tensed on a stroke and her legs quivered. He couldn’t remember ever being so ready to explode while he watched someone receive a whip. His cock was throbbing with every movement she made, only increasing the need to fuck her aggressively, and damn soon.
The lash hit home on the seventh stroke and he heard her whimper in pain and stumble a bit. He hesitated and moved toward her. As much as he loved the look of her crumbling in front of him, he was oddly desperate to comfort her rather than produce more of it for her.
“Seven. Harder, you fucking pussy!” she screamed, a new venom lacing voice as she righted herself again and glared over her shoulder. The glower continued from her face as he stared, halting his step towards him. He scowled in response, ready to remind her what was happening here and who was in control.
“Watch your mouth, Elizabeth,” he growled as he delivered the next stroke hard onto her shoulder and watched her flinch at the contact.
The stiffening of her whole frame, accompanied by the moan into the post, echoed pure lust throughout the room. It drove him mad, and the stripes on her back sent pulses straight to his painful cock. Darkness threatened to take over. He could feel it building inside. It wouldn’t take much for him to be lost in her and that was something she definitely wasn’t ready for.
She lifted one elegant foot onto the bed and wrapped it around the carvings, enabling her to push harder against the post. Jesus Christ, he wanted inside her, his cock almost bursting through his damn trousers at the sight of her. Everything was her at this moment. Hair, skin, the continued moans coming from her mouth egging him on for more.
“Eight,” she moaned as the tail of the whip hit her square on the arse. “Nine,” she screamed as he aimed and landed it again on her arse. “Oh god, please fuck me, Alex. I want you inside me.”
He didn’t need asking twice. Fuck being in control. He was undoing the rope bindings in seconds and bending her over the bed with such force that he stunned himself, roughly pushing her down flat with his hand on her back as he kicked off his clothes and moved himself forward to sink inside her. He paused for a moment to tease her entrance with his cock, trying to calm his breathing and savour the moment for as long as he could as he rubbed his thick length up and down her wetness. Deliciously wet. Fuck, this was going to be frantic and quick. He was on the brink now. The second he got inside her and felt her come, he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
“So fucking perfect,” he mumbled to himself while toying with her and grasping at her hipbones forcefully.
“Please, Alex, I want you inside me. Please don’t make me wait anymore,” she moaned into the bed, scrabbling for grip on the sheets as she trembled beneath his hands.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he replied, sliding himself inside her. So deep, so fucking deep. The sensation was mind blowing and his cock jumped in response as she moaned and groaned under him. A guttural growl escaped from his mouth. “Keep still, baby. I can’t hold back if you keep moving,” he panted. She didn’t and he found himself fighting not to come immediately.
His breathing and heart rate spiked as he felt the now familiar build in her, and as she ground back against him over and over again, he closed his eyes and let the inevitable bliss begin. Reaching a hand around her throat, he pounded into her in a steady rhythm, letting the feelings of absolute pleasure sore through his body. Her muscles twitched around him and he could feel her coming as she screamed his name. The muscles clamped and milked him, spurring him on to come. He increased the pounding as he felt his own release build and slammed into her, pushing her up the bed. Grabbing hold of those exquisite hips and dragging her back, he lifted her upright to ease the friction on himself, then moved his hand to her clit to prolong her orgasm. She reached her hands behind his neck and turned her face to kiss him, her tongue finding its way to his in their moment of passion as he continued to fuck her relentlessly.
“Oh god yes, again,” she purred into his mouth. Her core tightened again as he circled with his thumb and used his fingers to feel his cock pumping in and out of her. It was slick with combined arousal and it only intensified every fucking irrational feeling coursing through him.
“Now, baby, I won’t stop this time. Come with me.”
He let go as he heard her scream out his name again and shuddered at the intensity of feelings that flooded his senses as he exploded inside of her. It flooded inside her, claiming her in this scenario with more aggression than ever before. He panted, clamping his eyes closed and throwing his head back, and heard the animalistic groan that left his own throat as he collapsed on top of her on the bed.
“Mine,” he mumbled into her neck as he came back to reality. “Tell me you’re mine, baby.”
She rubbed the back of his neck delicately and fingered his hair.
“Yes, yours,” she whispered from beneath him, still trying to regain her breath.
“You’re fucking incredible,” he said as he kissed her languidly on the neck and eased the pressure off her to move down her body and look at her back.
Rather than the normal pleasure he felt at seeing the reddened stripes, he felt a twinge of something else. He frowned and tried to let the sensation process itself to some sort of conclusion. Nothing was forthcoming other than a constant, irritating niggle of confusion. Whatever it was, it was fucking uncomfortable so he lightly touched the welts and planted soft kisses along them.
“I’ve hurt you,” he said, moving off the bed and crossing to the cupboard to retrieve the balm.
She chuckled, resting her head on her hands and gazing at him with adoration and something that looked possibly like love.
“Yes, Alex, but isn’t that sort of the point?” He shook his head and chastised his own stupid behaviour. Fucking idiot. What the hell had he done? Striping her up like some other non-descript woman. She deserved better. He rubbed at the back of his neck and stared at her for a minute. She looked relaxed, calm. Christ, she looked happy even. In fact, she blew him a kiss and winked. Fuck, he loved that winking.
He walked back to her and sat down heavily on the black sheets.
“I don’t deserve your humour, baby. I shouldn’t have done it. I should have stopped you from pushing me. It won’t happen again,” he said, moving over her and carefully applying the cream. “This will feel cold for a minute or two but it will help with the pain.” She instantly turned over and rose to kneel in front of him. Taking his face in her hands, she gently kissed him. Soft, warm lips chased the wind right out of him as he stilled in her hands and felt the emotion her mouth delivered. His mind quietened as her lips dissolved every negative image of his past. Peace drifted throu
gh his thoughts as he wrapped his fingers into her hair and dragged her closer, more, closer, deeper.
She eventually pulled her head back and softly placed small kisses along his jaw so he tilted his neck to get her to his throat. Fuck, he adored her mouth on him, especially there, where so much damage had been done. How did she do that?
She stopped and leaned back on her heels with a smile.
“Alex, I wanted to see you, all of you. I told you that. You didn’t do anything I didn’t ask for and I enjoyed it, so stop beating yourself up. Actually, I’ve quite impressed myself,” she said as that mysterious grin took over her face. “I think the venue must have unleashed my inner slut or something. She’s been about a bit recently.” He chuckled and moved her back down onto the bed so he could continue with the cream as he felt his heart constrict at the thought of this woman knowing all of him, at her understanding the depths of his angry soul.
“You called me a pussy, Miss Scott,” he said with a smirk as he kissed as much of her as he could. She was simply fucking delicious.
“Well, I was a bit worried you weren’t giving it your all, that you might be hiding a more realistic version,” she replied sarcastically.
He frowned and smeared a layer over her arse cheek as he thought about her statement. It was a concern. He’d have to build her slowly, train her and hope she found her way to accepting it, maybe even enjoying it. Because, no, he wasn’t giving it his all. He wasn’t even close, and that was, for the first time in his life, worrying to him. He had no idea how she’d react when he truly lost himself in her and showed her what he really could do.
Her legs shifted slightly under his hand, highlighting the other stripes over her lower back. What the hell was he doing? His life and past would destroy every part of her if she ever had to see the horror in it, let alone find a route through it with him. She didn’t deserve this at all. She should be with a kind and normal man, someone who would adore her for the rest of her life and give her everything. Not someone who would drag her into hell in the hope that she could accept it.
He lay down beside her and let her drape one of those damned incredible legs over him while he slipped his arm under her and pushed her head towards his throat again. She giggled and snuggled in. Fuck, she felt so right there, so comfortable, so peaceful, but it wasn’t possible for him to give her normal. This part of his life wasn’t fucking normal. Hell, he wasn’t fucking normal.
He closed his eyes as he felt her hands threading into his hair and sighed as he considered his next move. Much as he wanted her, that guilty feeling kept hitting him in the gut for some unknown reason and he just couldn’t choose between consuming her to the point of no return or letting her go. To find a better man, or at least a more decent one.
Chapter 23
Elizabeth
T he jet touches down on the runway and I watch Alex furiously pacing the cabin, angrily chastising someone on his phone. The conversation has something to do with base rates and a Shanghai deal. I have no idea what he’s talking about. What I do know is that his aggressive attitude is only fuelling mine to greater proportions. I’m pissed and it’s all because of him and his constantly changing moods. They’re stupid. It’s that bloody simple. The dream of Rome is over and we are back to reality again. My time with him has been incredible but now we’re home and I’ve been slowly feeling the old Alex return. Before this trip, I was more than happy with him but now I’ve seen the other version, the almost loving one, and I can’t accept the more reserved one any longer. His barriers retreated considerably while we were away but it appears he’s been very busy rebuilding them since yesterday afternoon. Well sod him, I want my version back, and I’m not accepting this bullshit from him.
I sigh in exasperation and look out of the window at the dreary London tarmac racing past us. It’s chucking it down with rain, too, only highlighting the irritatingly sombre mood I’m in. Why would he hide himself away again? Did I get a little too close for comfort? And why bother telling me things that were important to him if he didn’t mean to keep the information coming? I really felt the connection growing between us and I know he did, too. Regardless of that impassive face of his, I sensed the softer side of him. Even the vulnerable part made an appearance on occasion and no matter how brief it was, I knew it was there, hiding beneath the surface.
No, I’m not having it. If the night at the club has taught me anything it’s to ask for what I want from him. He’s absolutely been teaching me his own traits and I’m learning how to use them, fast.
The erotic pain and intensity of feelings he delivered to me at Eden were unbelievably sexy and completely overwhelming. I enjoyed everything, even the pain. Maybe it was the alcohol in my system or maybe it was the adrenaline from the whole ambience of the place and the people within it, but seriously, who would have thought I could orgasm from pain? Or that the pleasure found within those moments could be so mind numbingly good that I only wanted more of it?
He is absolutely right about what I am in the bedroom. His ability to dominate me is astonishing and I revelled in every second of it. I wanted him to push me and I wanted to be on my knees for him. I still do with all my very attached heart. But he’s also shown me the self-belief I can achieve by learning from him in all circumstances, and as I sit here, I can feel the confidence encouraging me forward to ask more of him now. It isn’t that I don’t want the controlling behaviour or the dominant man. I do, desperately actually. I just need the man behind that as well, and him pulling it away from me is not helping me see any sort of future for us.
Pascal was rather enlightening with his “Declaration of love” statement, which I think even took Alex by surprise. Perhaps he saw something in Alex that I simply didn’t. He clearly knows him well. Having said that, Giuseppe said the same sort of thing. Clearly they can both see something I have only received snippets of. Yes, he’s said all the right things and we’ve had fun, but each time the connection gets a little too deep, he yanks it away from me. It’s completely unacceptable of him and definitely not funny.
And Pascal, well he’s a devil to think about at a different time. The man clearly has his own charms and demons flowing vividly through his soul, if he actually has one, that is. He certainly seems a very dangerous sort to play with but I think I held my own around him and I can’t see why he would give me his card if he didn’t like me. How relevant that is, I have no idea. And regardless of my confusion on the matter, I don’t even know what I’ll do with the bloody thing or even if I want him to like me. He appears to be a good friend to Alex so I suppose it’s important. Again, I have no idea. I’m a mess and intoxicating green eyes are the last thing on my priority list at the moment. Alex is enough to deal with. The depths of Pascal are probably completely unfathomable. Although, there’s no denying that I like him. Well, I like the person I met that night anyway, whoever the hell that was.
I stare out the window and imagine them together. Intriguingly, there is something so very familiar between them. It’s nothing like the brotherly affection Alex shares with Conner. It‘s something far more intimate, somehow more personal. How much has happened between them over the years? Their small, almost unnoticed nods and gestures, the way they look at each other, seems to be somewhat similar to that of lovers or maybe playmates, but he said he had no interest in men. He’s so hiding something from me about that.
“Elizabeth, are you ready?” Alex asks as he gets in front of me.
“What? Sorry, I wasn’t listening,” I reply, standing and taking his hand. Such very wicked hands. My leg trembling happens again. It’s still ridiculous given my current irritation with him. He chuckles and runs his fingers over the back of my hand.
“Dreaming of somewhere nicer?” he asks, smiling radiantly at me with that devilish upward curl of his. I gaze at him for a moment and wonder what to say. Do I continue with this charade of his retreating and me being okay with it? Or do I call his bluff and make him open up again? I might run the risk of chasing
him off, which I really don’t want, but I can’t be with someone who throws up barriers constantly to keep me out of their thoughts. Yep, still pissed off.
“No, just a different version of you and a time we have now apparently left behind,” I reply, smiling quietly as I move toward the door.
“Which one?” he asks with a grin. It’s his lying one, his manipulating sod one.
I roll my eyes at him and grab my bag.
“I think you know.”
I’m not even beginning to play that game with him over this. Whether he wants to admit it or not, he’s let me in too far for me to not be able to see him trying to play his way around me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Elizabeth.” Arsehole.
“Okay then, I’ll tell you,” I reply calmly as I look straight into his eyes, no fear of reprisal. “The one who doesn’t run away from his bloody fears, Alex. The one who let me in a little and began to show me someone extraordinary. The one who wasn’t afraid to let me see him for who he really could be.” I’m right on this one and he knows it. I can tell by his narrowing eyes.
“What? Where did that come from? I am still here, with you. What are you talking about?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and looking toward the floor a little. Liar, irritating liar. What a coward, bastard even. I bloody hate liars. I’ve had enough.
My anger explodes to the point of sod the consequences.
“Don’t you dare insult me. You know as well as I do what you are doing. You have been distancing yourself since yesterday afternoon, probably because you feel like you’ve shown me too much of yourself, although I’m still not sure which of the many versions it is that you’re afraid to let me see. You have taught me to bring my head up, so guess what, that’s what I’m doing,” I state with a firm tone. Arsehole. “You can have Andrews drop me off at home. When you have found the man I’m after again, you can come and get me, or not fucking bother because I’m not having half of you.”
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