The Velvet Ribbon

by Christie Adams

  “Bodyguards. You’re talking about bodyguards.” Beth couldn’t believe it—had they really implied that?

  “Did I say that, Cam? I don’t think I did.”

  Beth wasn’t fooled by their apparently innocent expressions, but between them, the two men seemed determined to maintain the pretence.

  Cam shook his head. “Nope, can’t say I heard you say that. Don’t think I said it either. Besides,” he continued, struggling to keep the smirk off his face, “if we were going to say ‘bodyguards’, we wouldn’t say ’bodyguards’, we’d say ‘close protection officers’, wouldn’t we?”

  Beth sighed. They really were like two little kids at times.

  No, she decided, they were worse than two little kids. Any woman could handle two little kids—it was the two big kids who were giving her a mammoth headache…

  ~~*~~

  After lunch, Cam made his excuses and left—he had preparations to make for those of his employees who would be taking part in the training exercise, potentially half a dozen, all told. With no idea what sort of attack Ewan Underwood might mount, he’d insisted that it only made sense to bring as many men as were available. He would be returning later, though, having been invited for dinner and an overnight stay.

  Alex saw his friend off and then went back into the house. To say that what Cam had told him that morning was disturbing would be a vast understatement. The threat had been a long time in the making, and the signs were that it would become a reality very soon. However, it wasn’t so much the very real threat to his safety that bothered him so much—he could handle that, it was what he’d been trained to do even if it was a long time ago—as the very real possibility that Beth could get caught up in whatever act of violence Jimmy’s brother was planning.

  Alex had never met the elder Underwood; he’d still been in hospital at the time of the funeral. While on a visit to the ward, Alex’s commanding officer had told him all about Ewan’s angry outburst after the service, where he’d damned them all to hell for the perceived futility of his younger brother’s demise. The last part of his tirade had taken the form of a violent, vehement promise to “get the bastard responsible.”

  Fast-forward to the current situation, and it appeared that Ewan was a lot more resourceful than they might have given him credit for. It would have been no mean feat to discover the identity of the officer commanding on the mission, and then there was the bugging of the offices to consider and the sabotage of some of Alex’s business deals. Alex’s gut was telling him that it was only a matter of time before the man tracked him down to Winterleigh.

  And now that the threat was so real, if Beth had still had any family left, he would have sent her to stay with them. Sadly, she didn’t, and when he’d suggested it, she’d made it clear in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t going to stay with friends either. She was determined to remain with him, and while his instincts were all in favour, his common sense, which was now in agreement with Cam's stance on the matter, was sounding the alarm.

  He should make her leave. He knew he should. She would be safer away from him, but there was that stubborn part of him that wanted to keep her close, so that he knew exactly where she was and he could protect her—with his life, if necessary.

  “Alex.”

  She was standing in the office doorway—so beautiful, but so vulnerable too, and compared to him, so fragile. Alex felt his body leap in response at the sight of her. “Beth, there’s something I have to ask –”

  “No. Don’t you dare tell me to leave, Alex Lombard.” He heard the tremble in her voice, even if he couldn’t see it in her body. “I’m staying here with you, because if anything happens to you…he might as well do it to me, too.”

  A tight band wrapped itself around his heart. No, he would never—never—allow that to happen. “Beth, you’re my life—I have to keep you safe.”

  She took a couple of steps towards him. “You think you’re not the same to me? You think I’d want to be safe without you? Don’t you know, Alex?”

  He knew. Damn it, he knew with every last cell in his body just how much this woman loved him and that he had less than a snowball’s chance in hell of convincing her to seek sanctuary elsewhere until the danger was over. Even if he tried, as her Dom, to order her to go, his instincts told him she’d defy him no matter what he threatened her with. He went to her.

  “Please don’t make me leave you, Alex. I’m begging you.”

  “Beth, let’s go to bed.”

  He lifted her easily into his arms. Her arms went around his neck and he felt her lips, tender on his cheek, heard her quietly whispered words of love. Anxious to feel the soft satin of her delicate skin next to his body, he took the stairs two at a time, shouldering his way into the bedroom and slamming the door shut with his foot. He set Beth gently on her feet by the bed, exhorting her not to move while he closed the heavy chocolate velvet drapes and put the lights on a dimmed setting.

  Beth stood where he’d left her, hands clasped in front of her, looking sexier than ever in black jeans that hugged her hips and a scarlet shirt with long sleeves. The fit was snug over her breasts and she’d left enough buttons undone to display her cleavage. The stupidity of the male sex dumbfounded him sometimes—he still hadn’t worked out how she’d remained unattached so far, but he thanked heaven that she had.

  He went to her slowly, savouring the anticipation. First, he released the silken sheen of her hair from the ponytail, threading his fingers through it to encourage the waves to find freedom. Her hair was only one of so many things he adored about her. No, he just adored her…completely…endlessly…hopelessly.

  Then he watched her face as he let his palm almost touch her cheek, saw how she wanted to turn that cheek to seek his caress. The connection binding them together was a shining thread that ran between them and around them, one that Alex knew could never be cut. He’d love this woman till the day he died and beyond.

  He stepped closer, framed Beth’s face between his palms and tilted her head to receive his kiss. Her hands rested briefly at his waist, then went around him, in an embrace so tight that he could feel the hard peaks of her nipples through two layers of fabric.

  Beth loved this man so much that she wanted her body to merge and become one with his. Perhaps that way, she could keep him safe.

  She couldn’t ignore the quiet desperation lurking within her heart, now that she knew there was someone out there, wanting to…what? Kill Alex? Kidnap him? She pushed the thoughts away; the trouble was, they pushed right back. Her mind ached from all the worry as much as her heart did.

  “What are you thinking, Beth?” He lifted her chin to look into her eyes. “Tell me.”

  “I want it to be over,” she said simply. “I want him to leave us alone—leave you alone. You don’t deserve this.”

  “I don’t deserve you.” The intensity of the look in his dark eyes imprisoned her breath, froze it in her lungs.

  “Tough. You’re stuck with me, Lombard.” She looked at his features, committing the tiniest details to memory, like the crinkles at the corners of his eyes that became more pronounced when he smiled, and the little furrow between his eyebrows that deepened when he frowned. “Alex, I belong here, with you…to you. I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else with anyone else.”

  She glanced towards the bed. “In this room, you’re my Dom, you own me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Outside this room, you’re the man I love and want to be with for the rest of my life. ‘Deserving’ doesn’t come into it in either case.” She moistened suddenly dry lips, wondering how he would react to what was going through her mind. She doubted he’d object.

  “Sir,” she chose the word carefully, “please may I undress you?”

  The darkness in his eyes disappeared, replaced by the hot flame of need and complete understanding of her need for formality. “My sweet sub may do whatever she desires with me.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”


  She began with his shirt—slowly, taking her time, pressing a tender kiss to his skin for each button that she unfastened. When the garment was hanging open, she pushed it back, exposing the masculine contours of his impressive chest. Closing her eyes, she nuzzled into him, inhaling the clean, warm, male scent of him. She didn’t have to see him to know he was perfect. Fierce emotion made her eyes sting with unshed tears—she’d protect this man with her life if she had to.

  With the lightest touch she explored the textures of his body, the crisp hair adorning his pectorals, the smooth skin in the area of his collarbone, the brown nipples, small and already hard. When her tongue flicked over the sensitive flesh, his body jerked in reaction. He grunted but said nothing.

  Beth suckled hungrily on each nipple, aware of two things—the growing wetness of her pussy and the extraordinary self-control of the man she loved. The only betraying sign of how the onslaught of her mouth was affecting him was the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

  It was quite simple really, she thought with a secretive smile—she hungered for everything about this man. The way he smelled, so masculine, appealed to her most basic feminine desires, as did his intellect, his strength of mind and character, his powerful body and his dark, brooding good looks. And, above all, his courage…such a fundamental part of him.

  She moved behind him, her left hand trailing across his stomach with its clearly defined abs. The shirt was starting to annoy her—it had to go, so she grasped the collar with both hands and drew it down his back and arms, tossing it aside with impatience.

  Her heart constricted for a moment at the sight of the scars on his back and what they represented—especially now that she knew the whole story, that he’d got them while trying to save the life of one of his men, without a thought for his own safety.

  She put her arms around his waist, rested her head against his back for a few moments—not liking the way he flinched at the first contact, but feeling some relief when he visibly relaxed. He unwound some more when she began to litter his scars with light, loving kisses, his head dropping to assume an almost submissive posture.

  “Master.” Though she’d thought it many times, this was the first time she’d called him by that title. “I love you so much it hurts,” she whispered, her voice aching with honesty. “You’re beautiful. I want you every moment of every day, and every moment away from you is a moment I hate, because I’ll never get it back. All I have to do is look at you, think about you, and I want you. No, don’t move, please,” she requested, when he would have turned around.

  “This time is for you, Sir. Please let me please you.”

  13

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  Beth froze. Her ears were playing tricks on her, surely? If those two words were what she thought she’d heard…she didn’t even want to think of what it might mean. No, it had to be a mistake.

  “Alex?” The question was in her voice.

  He continued to look straight ahead, almost as if he were standing to attention. “I love you, Beth. You’re the only woman I could ever trust enough for this. You’re my future—I need you to help me banish the past.”

  The cryptic statement confused her even more. What was it about his past that had such a terrifying hold on him? Beth wished she understood. She couldn’t even begin to guess how she could possibly help him. ”How? How do I help you, Alex? Please, tell me.”

  “Something happened.” His voice was as haunted as his face. “I can’t… I can’t tell you. I need you to do something for me.”

  “What? You know I’ll do anything for you, Alex—just tell me what I need to do.”

  “Make me your slave.”

  A horrible coldness descended on her. Beth shook her head slowly, unable to take in the enormity of the request. He’d made it in such a matter-of-fact manner, which made it all the more unbelievable. He’d just turned her world upside down.

  “Alex…I can’t. You can’t. I have no clue where to start. I don’t have your training. I’d have no idea what I was doing. What if I hurt you?”

  “You won’t, Mistress.”

  How she wished he’d stop calling her that. “Alex, you don’t mean this—you can’t! It’s not what you are!”

  His shoulders lifted on a slow, deep breath. “It’s what I need, Mistress.” The normally even timbre of his voice was hoarse, as if he were facing some awful, terrible truth about himself, something he could no longer deny. “You won’t hurt me—not in any way I don’t need. Whatever you do to me, I can take it. But it has to be you.”

  “Then tell me why! Help me to understand! For God’s sake, help me to understand…Give me that at least, Alex.”

  At that he turned and looked briefly into her eyes with an expression of such pain that her breath caught in her throat. She watched him kneel in front of her, head bowed, hands resting palms uppermost on his thighs. “I need to forget, Mistress,” he said quietly. “Please. Help me to forget.”

  Forget what?

  In that instant, her heart broke for him. Beth had seen the physical reminders of what he’d endured and thought she had an idea of what it had cost him mentally. She now realised that in the latter case, she had no idea at all. The saying went “still waters run deep.” Alex, who was always so calm and in control, ran very deep. For a moment she faltered, unsure that she would be able to give him what he needed—in the next moment she knew that, no matter what it cost her, she could do nothing else.

  Still slightly hesitant, she reached out, wondering if she should touch him, try to reassure him. When her hand rested lightly on his shoulder, she felt the way he shuddered, a quiver of movement that made everything shift into focus, even if she still didn’t fully understand what was going on.

  “Then you will remember that I am your Mistress.” She tried to inject a confidence she didn’t feel into her voice—her mouth was saying things her mind refused to take responsibility for. “You will refer to me as such until you are permitted to do otherwise. While you’re my slave, you will keep your eyes lowered, unless I allow you to do otherwise. Do you understand?”

  The change that overcame Alex was subtle but remarkable. The lost soul became the focused man once more, but there was a subtle difference. That difference was the shift of power…from him…to her.

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “And your safe word is garnet. It will bring a complete halt to whatever is going on. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “Tell me your safe word.”

  “Garnet, Mistress.”

  A strange feeling writhed in her belly, like nothing she’d ever felt before. Hearing Alex call her by that title was starting to turn her on in a completely different way, and she wasn’t sure she should like it.

  On the positive side, though, she was also gaining an awareness of the enormous weight of responsibility carried by every Dominant and a clearer understanding of the dynamic between them…and why Doms held such great respect for their subs. Alex obeyed instantly when she told him to remove his boots and socks; as he stood there wearing just the jeans, with his torso and feet bare, hers to do with as she wished, Beth thought she’d never seen him looking so fucking gorgeous. Alpha male through and through—and all hers.

  “Hands at your sides, please, Alex.”

  A powerful, heady sense of control flared inside Beth. To have Alex, a magnificent male animal by anyone’s standards, obey her without question was arousing her like she’d never imagined possible. The sense of power was like a drug, rolling through her bloodstream and infecting her with a compulsion to carry on having him do her bidding.

  What she also recognised, though, and with a profound sense of humility, was the honour Alex had bestowed upon her by giving her such a special gift. It was a gift that she would never abuse, no matter how addictive she found being in control to be.

  Finding a little peace with those thoughts, Beth turned her concentratio
n back to the reality before her. Hunger roared—she hungered to possess this wonderful, beautiful man, who stood so calmly, his back straight, his eyes lowered in respect, and that chest that almost made her howl in needy arousal rising and falling with each deep, measured breath. Strength and energy radiated from him, all held in check, ready to be released at her command alone.

  She placed her left forefinger on his breastbone, over his heart, with only the nail making contact with his skin. To his credit, he didn’t move a muscle as she began to draw a line straight down the centre of his chest to his abs. That finger dipped briefly into his navel, a small gesture but one evocative of ownership, then it continued on its way, to the fastening of his jeans. His erection beneath the zip was unmistakable; when she laid her hand over the fabric, Beth swore she could feel its heat burning her skin.

  “You want to come, don’t you, Alex.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “Only when it pleases you to permit it, Mistress.”

  It pleased her to see and touch her property without the hindrance of his clothing. As she anticipated, he’d gone commando, and as she peeled away the faded denim, his erection sprang free, precum leaking from the slit. She could taste the glistening drop already, the memory of the subtly salty, undoubtedly masculine flavour of him drawing the tip of her tongue to lick her lips, even as her desire for him soaked her pussy.

  Finding her focus again, she continued to push the worn jeans down his legs, her admiration for their muscular strength and stillness ever-present. When the fabric bunched at his ankles he lifted each foot in turn, so that she could remove the garment completely.

  In this position, his cock was at eye level, standing to attention and presenting the temptation for her to lick the underside from root to tip. He was a work of art in mortal flesh, a living statue straight from the Renaissance. Beth leaned in and inhaled the clean, musky scent of him. Oh, so tempting. She could resist him no longer.