by Flora Dain
At that moment Eldon stalks over to reclaim her, giving me his familiar scowl. Hastily I hide my wrists but at that moment there’s a rumpus at the main door and a voice rings out behind me. ‘Well, well, look who’s here. We just can’t get along without each other, can we?’
It’s Ryan, Freda at his side.
The first thing I notice is that he’s upped his game. He looks less like a dork and more like a businessman. His suit and passable tie look expensive. The next thing I notice is Freda’s startled glance at someone over my shoulder. Darnley has come up behind me. I feel his hand on my waist. His protective warmth steals through me but Freda’s expression chills my blood.
Darnley may no longer have feelings for her but she sure has a shedload for him.
* * *
The morning speeds by. Darnley spends it mostly closeted with Aaron. Billy and Eldon vanish into the woods and come back blowsy and twig-infested. I chat to Dodie and her baby, make friends with some of the children and worry about what I’ll say to Ryan and what I can do for Darnley.
Lunch is tense. We eat little and talk quietly. Lydia’s pleased to see Freda again and asks how her new company’s doing. Freda fends off questions and eyes me warily.
As her company’s latest venture depends on something I almost own the patents for I’m not entirely surprised that she feels awkward. Or maybe it’s Darnley’s dark, brooding silence as he sits protectively close to me.
Lydia seems blithely unaware of the tension all around her and turns to me with her usual vague smile. ‘And you’re off to Charlotte soon, I hear. Some poetry thing?’
Ryan looks up with a snort. ‘Poetry? P-p-p-poetry? You’re not still p-p-p-pushing that on p-p-p-people are you, P-P-P-Petronella?’
I freeze.
The table falls silent as everyone stares first at him and then at me.
‘Shut up, Ryan, you asshole.’ Billy’s angry hiss slices the silence. She turns to Lydia, her eyes blazing. ‘Ella’s a real poet, Mrs Wolfe. She’s won awards. She was a brilliant student. She only teaches because she turned down internships in three different law firms, yours included.’ Her eyes narrow. ‘Tell them, Ella.’
I stare round the table paralysed, my mouth and throat in lockdown.
Not here, please God, not now …
It’s always there. And now, just when I least expect it, it happens again …
The least thing can set it off.
Ryan knows this. His broad grin tells me he’s well aware what he’s done. He’s delighted to get back at me so easily. ‘Yeah, tell them, Ella. What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?’
I stare at him helpless as my cheeks flood with scarlet. My worst nightmare … no one here has any idea how shaming this is. All at once I can’t breathe. I spring to my feet and dart out of the room.
In the lobby I pause near a window and gulp in air. All I want is a few minutes to calm myself. I’ll be fine …
There’s a movement behind me. ‘Hey. You OK?’ Darnley’s deep voice thrills through me and my shame is complete.
I shut my eyes and lean my head against the glass. ‘No. Go away.’
Darnley wraps his arms around me. ‘Hey, easy. Does that happen often?’
‘It’s never far away.’ I feel tears prickle the back of my throat. My voice sounds husky but at least it’s back.
He holds me tight, his breath hot on my hair. ‘Shall I throw them out?’
I swivel in his arms and give him a shaky smile. ‘No, I’m fine. I’d better go back in.’
‘No need.’ He touches his lips to mine, sliding his tongue along my lower lip. Heat flares, so sudden and so intense I feel giddy. When he pulls away his face is stern. ‘So you’ve still got feelings for him.’
I stare at him in shock. ‘How do you make that out?’
His flash of anger takes me unawares. ‘He needled you, that’s how.’
I frown, indignant. ‘He just gets under my skin. He always did.’
He eyes me steadily, his expression veiled. ‘You’re speaking freely now. He makes you hesitate and I don’t? He gets under your skin and I don’t?’
‘It’s not like that. It comes and goes –’ I break off as guests spill out of the dining room and we’re suddenly surrounded by people. Some glance at me with sympathetic smiles, most avoid my eye.
Abruptly he releases me. ‘Catch up with you later.’ As he turns away Freda heads him off. She darts me a glance of triumph as she kisses him lightly on the cheek. To my fury he leads her away, his hand on the small of her back.
Once more my blood chills.
What about his feelings for her?
* * *
In the afternoon Darnley spends a lot of time with Freda. I spot them together once or twice, talking earnestly. They break off when people draw near. Jealousy consumes me.
I tell myself I’m being unreasonable. They’re relatives, after all. But the jealousy still rages.
To make things worse Ryan catches up with me. ‘I guess I owe you an apology.’
I hold his gaze and try to sound neutral. ‘You left it a bit late. And if you want that patent, you can forget it. Go invent something new.’
He smiles like the cat that got the cream. ‘Know what? I just did. I’m trialling it this week, as a matter of fact. You’ll love it. Oh, and you’re a little behind the loop. That patent of yours? Already out of date. Darnley lover-boy Wolfe didn’t tell you? I just heard his company went one better and launched an upgrade the day after our motel date. So your five million is now worth precisely zilch.’
He grins at me in a friendly way. ‘So I guess we’re even. Except I’ve got a company up and running and a new girlfriend to help run it and you’re still a two-bit teacher with a boyfriend famously crap at relationships. Ask Freda. She knows all about cousin Darnley. Trust me, in a couple of days he’ll dump you like all the others.’ He turns away with a sickening smile. I stare after him, unclench my fists and seize on the one fact I know makes no sense.
Darnley said his new product was still on the skids. Why did he lie?
* * *
As the sun slants into another golden, leafy evening I make my way slowly through the relatives gathering for cocktails. Darnley watches me from the edge of the patio. He captures my arm and draws me close, lowering his voice to a murmur.
‘Hey. I’ve barely seen you today.’
His slow smile weakens my knees but I have to clear this up. ‘Ryan says your new app’s already out. So why am I here?’
His jaw stiffens. ‘It launched last week. You’re in no danger now. You don’t need me at all. For protection or anything else.’
I stare. ‘So why –?’
The flicker of pain in his eyes tells me, even before his anguished whisper proves it beyond all doubt. ‘I wanted you with me. I always dread coming here.’
You’re the only thing that makes this place bearable. His words pierce my heart and make it sing both at the same time and now his steady gaze is burning into me.
‘You’re free to go if you want.’
My mouth’s so dry it’s an effort to speak. ‘Do you want me to go?’
He touches his lips to my hair, his hand hovering at my neck. ‘I want you here and I want you now. I’ve wanted you all day. I’m going for a shower. Join me in ten minutes.’
‘Not right away?’ I wanted you with me. I’m so happy I want to jump and shout and fling my arms round him.
‘Nope.’ He kisses me on the forehead. ‘Ten minutes.’ He taps his watch. ‘Go help out with the baseball. And don’t be late. You’re due a punishment.’
‘I’m what?’
He grins. ‘You heard.’
I stand very still, about to laugh. Something in his expression tells me that might be unwise. I manage to contain it in a disbelieving smile. ‘Why?’
‘Because I promised you one last night for squealing out of line.’ He slaps me hard on the backside, his voice going deep. ‘And because I feel like it.’
People turn to stare but he ignores them as his look turns to fire. ‘Now. Scoot.’
* * *
Ten minutes later I make it to our rooms on the dot. Somewhere I can hear opera: Bellini. This one I know. The haunting strains of Casta Diva, the aria and prayer about devotion to duty, colour my impressions as I walk into the room.
He’s already waiting, showered and rested. He looks mouth-watering. The Wolfe logo glitters on his black velour robe, reflecting the gleam in his eyes. His robe is tied loosely at the waist but gapes open along his chest. Dark hairs curl below the bronze column of his neck to show he’s gloriously naked underneath.
He draws me into his arms and finds my mouth, his kiss long, slow and urgent. He signals me to hold very still as he removes my clothes, his touch sparking over my skin like electricity. I want to feel him, to explore him, let my fingertips do the talking as I tease him like he’s teasing me, but his stern frown makes me hold back. It’s all I can do to keep my hands off him.
‘In the shower. And keep your hands over your head.’
Laughing, I submit eagerly, writhing when he directs the jet deep between my legs. He teases me to the point of arousal and then lifts it away, his cunning smile telling me he knows exactly what he’s doing.
‘Is this the punishment?’ I gasp, when he torments me perilously close to orgasm for the third or fourth time.
His look darkens. ‘No. And if you speak in that tone again I’ll spank you – like this.’ He spins me round and pushes me over so I’m bending in a perfect curve, my ass high in the air. He aims six hard, wet blows on my bottom. His hand lingers, sticky with shower gel, and the slaps really sting.
‘Ow. That hurt. Was that it?’
He pulls me back up by my wet ponytail. ‘Nope. But we’ll do it again if I get any more sass.’
He smears more gel between my legs, making me shudder as his fingers slip deep into my passages, and then he makes me shriek in alarm as he sluices me out with the jet. At last he turns off the jet, torments my nipples with a generous tweak on each followed by a long, deep suck at my breasts with his mouth, and then he invites me to step out onto the mat.
‘Are you going to thank me?’ His lazy smile burns into me as I stand before him, dripping wet and quivering with arousal, excitement building. My ponytail is a sodden knot trailing down my neck. I feel like a drowned rat but my nipples are jutting and hard and my sex is now slick with moisture that pools long after he’s dabbed at me with the towel.
His erection prods at my belly and all at once I catch his meaning. Hot hunger glows deep in my belly and stiffens my nipples, growing numb with lust as I sink slowly to my knees.
His eyes gleam, making me pulse. ‘Hands behind your back.’
His low murmur makes me glance up in surprise and fills me with heat. A stranger is looking down at me, a colossus with eyes narrowed to slits and his powerful thighs spread wide. ‘Keep looking at me.’
He parts his robe to free himself and as his purplish, glossy erection emerges from the black velvet of his robe I stare, transfixed.
He’s wearing a stud.
On the curved flange of his wide tip, opposite the small dip at the top of his tall, throbbing shaft, it glitters cruelly.
The sight of the small bolt of harsh metal fixed in such a sensitive place makes me shiver all over. I feel my nipples tense and a wave of sensation ripple along my legs like I’m witnessing something painful. The sight of it, so sudden, so unexpected, is unbearably exciting. ‘Does that hurt?’
He grins but I see his eyes gleam. ‘Sometimes. That’s kind of the point. It can also be very stimulating. What are you waiting for? Take it in your mouth.’
Still awestruck I lean forward and start to suck.
He uses my ponytail as a lever, his fingers snagging in my wet hair and now I find it hard not to choke as he pushes deep into my throat. He barely waits for my gag to ease before he pushes again. ‘What’s the matter? Never sucked on a stud before?’
All this week, actually. I decide to take him down a notch by grazing my teeth lightly along the outer rim of his swollen tip, feeling a dull, metallic click as I encounter the jewellery.
He bares his teeth as his shaft jerks in my mouth. ‘Hey, easy, Tigress. My dick’s less durable than the hardware.’
His new urgency is thrilling. It sets me on fire. Why do I like this? Why is he doing this?
I have no answers. All I know as he takes hold of my head and pulls me onto him again is how right it feels and how achingly, unbearably hot.
The tiny stud rasps on the roof of my mouth and tickles the back of my throat, making the gagging harsher than usual. I’m starting to feel stifled, choking for air in my effort to please him when all at once he eases out of my mouth. ‘Enough. Now we’ll dry you. Get to your feet. Keep your hands where they are.’
As my arms move instinctively to cover myself he frowns and pushes them back. ‘No hands. Hold your elbows in an arm lock. I want to see your breasts.’
He tilts up my head and shifts my ankles wide on the wet mat with impatient movements of his foot. As the soft bath towel folds around me he pats me dry and pulls me close.
‘Now for your punishment. Open your legs.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Darnley’s eyeing me with a gleam as a slow smile curves his long, sculpted lips.
My arousal flares instantly into overdrive whenever he smiles like this but something in his look scares me, firing my heat even higher. I swallow as my legs turn to jelly. ‘What kind of punishment?’
His slow, spreading smile makes him look scarily like his animal namesake. ‘We’re coming to that. Think of it as an experiment.’
He holds up a large, fearsome-looking sex toy. It’s black and shiny and has a stubby probe at the front and a slender curved one at the back. I’ve seen late-night TV. I know instantly what they’re for and what they do. I also know I’m out of my depth.
‘Scared?’
‘Terrified. Do we have to use this? Why not … you?’
His eyes fill with instant heat. He’s enjoying this.
‘Nothing would please me more but right now I have other plans.’
I shudder with pleasure under his stern, steady gaze as he squeezes lube from a slender canister onto his palm and starts to smear it over the hideous thing he’s holding in front of me. His slow, deliberate movements make it seem even more of a threat.
How can that thing possibly fit inside me? Can he be serious?
‘Ready? Put your hands on my shoulders. Keep your eyes on mine. Open wide.’
Obediently I spread my knees wide and squat a little, hanging onto him for support. He wants to punish me with a toy? Game on – this must be like being whipped with a feather. I stare at him in disbelief. ‘Are you sure this is the punishment part?’
He grins as he slips the thing into place.
The experience is earth-moving. I’m pooling already as fear and adrenalin blend with his steady gaze into urgent, burning arousal. The huge thing together with its wicked, slithery appendages slides in easily, slick with lube. Everywhere down south is so eager for his entry that my muscles offer little resistance to the device at the rear and that slides in too, all the way.
Now I’m gloriously, thoroughly filled – but only with plastic.
I yearn for the real thing. I glance longingly at it, waving in my line of vision just inches away, purplish and glinting with its wicked little stud.
He’s laughing openly now as I pant in his arms. ‘Good girl. Let’s check the fit.’
Before I can protest he shifts it in and out a couple of times. The effect is extraordinary. Under his steady gaze I was already burning up. At his touch the unfamiliar pressures down below thud into dense, drumming arousal, my private places already probed to near peak by the teasing water jet he played with so long in the shower.
My awkward position is making me ache. All at once a sudden, unbidden thought takes hold of me – what would it be like to be commande
d by this man? To be under orders so strict and so constant that I would be his slave, his plaything, devoted to his pleasure?
I shake myself. I’ve never craved that kind of domination – until this second. Why is this so hot?
‘Take a few steps. I want to see you move.’
He wants me to walk? As I move, the stumpy little thing in front presses home in a very specific place that sends flames spiralling up through me. I take another and it does it again. At this rate I’ll come before I cross the room …
He grins. ‘Enjoying yourself?’
I swallow. ‘It’s very – effective.’ I don’t know how much of this I can take – and we’ve barely started.
He takes me in his arms and kisses me briefly on the mouth, his tongue sparking more flames, speeding up the drumbeats pounding down between my legs. ‘Good. I hoped you’d say that. Now for the fun part.’
He leads me to the bed and I get another shock. There are three items on the bed. One I was expecting – a pair of bright, shiny handcuffs linked by a short chain. The next sends a chill through me. It’s a coil of thick hemp rope. The third leaves me puzzled. It’s a remote. We’re watching TV?
‘Put your hands behind your back.’ He cuffs my wrists together and eyes me critically. ‘Shoulders back, tits out.’ I stiffen, arching my back until he’s satisfied.
‘Kneel up on the end of the bed, knees wide.’
His voice is so low I barely hear him. I check his face to make sure I’ve heard right and see a stranger – cold and stern, the dull gleam in his eyes his only emotion. His command has an edge.
Something in his manner tells me this is an important moment. Whatever happens here may change us both. I only hope I have enough love to make it work for him and enough strength to make it work for me.
When he’s got me in position he takes the coil of rope and slips it through his fingers to about halfway, loops each end twice around my waist and then up between my breasts and over my shoulders. He passes the ends over to each opposing ankle and fastens them tight with simple slipknots.
Now I’m splayed wide, caught fast by the rough, unforgiving rope, and every move becomes a torment as it scratches and chafes. If I move or wriggle my ankles pull on it, making it tighter.
