“Okay, have fun ladies!”
Amber gestured they follow her and when the reception hall was clear, Georgiana and Tara congratulated me with hugs.
“Phew, god I need vodka,” I complained.
“Tonight maybe, but I reckon they’ll all want their first lesson before they leave this place. Did you see their faces?” Tara almost screamed with excitement.
“I know, god knows why nobody ever thought of this before?” I put it out there.
“Shay followed the rules; it’s all she knew to do,” Amber said.
“Maybe.”
I turned on my heel and strode to the orangery alone, where I had a few things already set up for our first seminar.
“I’ll be ready for them in around fifteen minutes,” I told Amber over my shoulder, “keep them occupied until then.”
I headed towards the smell of tea and coffee, which had already been set up in two large urns in the orangery, a perfect space for a big gathering of hyped-up women.
“What am I doing?” I asked myself.
I had no idea, really – except I had myself convinced that our way out of Pernox’s legacy was to turn the place around – and this seemed the only way.
Pity it was me they wanted and nobody else.
But they were right…
I’d successfully kept a man entertained for six years… and he wasn’t an easy man, either. I couldn’t imagine any of our members’ husbands being even more impossible than Dante.
Right…?
ONCE everyone was seated in the orangery, I stood at the front with a few tables behind me, a few props at the ready should I need them, a whiteboard erected to the side, plus a whiteboard pen in my hand.
“Ladies, can any of you tell me what a safe word is? Hands please.”
“You… Claire,” I said, peering at a nametag. All the ladies had scribbled their names on sticky-back nametags but some had written their forenames smaller than an ant would write theirs.
“It’s a word you have so that if either of you wants to stop a situation going any further, you just say it, and everything stops.”
“Good. Very good.” I wrote safe word on the whiteboard in big capital letters. Pointing at the letters with my pen, I exclaimed, “A lot of people think this makes BDSM safe, but it doesn’t. Could anyone make a guess at why a safe word might not work?”
There was Claire with her hand up again. Lord knew if her name was really Claire, but her name rhymed with square, so I imagined it was.
“Yes, Claire.”
“One of the partners in the relationship could be abusive.”
I used my pen to point at her and agree. “Yes, it’s very possible. However, there’s another reason why a safe word might not work. Anyone else?”
Claire bit her lip, dissatisfied she hadn’t come up with the right answer.
Nobody else lifted their hand, but everyone sat with a pad and pen, ready to write it down when I delivered it.
“A safe word alone is not enough to make play safe,” I explained, “because the people engaged in BDSM play, whether two or three or more people, all should be able to recognise signs of fatigue or listlessness in their partner or partners. Sometimes the sub is so eager to please, he or she won’t use the safe word because they don’t want to displease their partner, or cut short playtime. Sometimes they miscalculate how they’re feeling and it’s something we all do in our everyday lives… we forget to take stock of where we’re at emotionally. It’s a common misconception that the sub has the power to end the scene if they want to, whenever they want to. Often the sub is at the mercy of their love, respect and regard of the dominant. The dom holds all the power and that power encompasses knowing when to stop, even without the safe word. In my experience it’s rare a safe word is ever used between two people who really know one another. So the key is to find out about your partner’s needs and wants before you even contemplate setting up a BDSM scene. It doesn’t matter if it takes three days or three weeks or three years to discuss what you both want and need, it’s far better to be safe, and it’s better to make sure the discussions end in both of you feeling positive about what’s going to happen. I’ve met sadomasochists in Paris who switch roles all the time. It’s one viable way of seeing the BDSM dynamic from either perspective, knowing what it feels like on both ends of the whip. However, for now, we’re going to concentrate on the B&D rather than the S&M, given most of you are new to all this.”
Claire’s hand shot up into the air without me even asking.
“Yes, Claire.”
“That means bondage and discipline.”
“It does indeed… and this is where we’ll start.”
Red winked at me from the front row, her pen eager to write all this down.
“Right, ladies, anyone tell me what this is?” I grinned.
The whole audience giggled and replied in unison, “Fluffy cuffs.”
“Fluffy cuffs, yes,” I said chuckling, “and here’s what you are going to do with them…”
Best to start off easy on them… and best not to admit that the rules of BDSM were a bag of shite in reality. In my experience, and in life, people always did what they pleased, regardless. And they always would.
***
THAT evening, we all sat around the dining table scoffing more homemade pizza from Cook, who was loving my new menus. Pizza, paella and curries were a hit and a definite transformation of Shay’s school dinner regime which used to include bangers and mash, roast dinners, lasagne, pies and meat galore.
“I was sure one of those women looked at me funny,” said Georgiana, “like she fancied me.”
Tara giggled. “You should hit that. Might teach her a thing or two about her own body. I mean, come on? Why else are they here?”
“Why are you all here?” I retorted, looking around my colleagues for answers. When none were forthcoming, I went on, “Sometimes, we find ourselves at a crossroads in life and we know the journey to where we want to be could take longer than the journey to instant gratification… but it turns out to be worth it. Sometimes these women just don’t know how to tell their partners they’re not very happy. It’s a long road to enlightenment, believe me.”
“Yeah… six years long,” Amber groaned. “I haven’t got your patience.”
“Yeah, but she has got me,” a male voice said, raising hairs on the back of my neck.
I looked up from my pizza to see Dante standing in the breakfast room doorway, wearing jeans, t-shirt and loafers. Slamming down my pizza, a smile bigger than my actual mouth hurt my face as I legged it towards him.
Running into his arms, I leapt up onto him, wrapping my legs around him. We kissed immediately, open-mouthed, greeting each other with tongues.
Noses pressed together, we stared at one another.
“Love you,” I whispered, breathless.
“Love you.”
“Ugh… get a room!” Georgiana said.
“Second that,” a few others added.
“Come on, it’s pizza night… again!” I grinned.
He rolled his eyes and took my hand when I offered it, dragging him over to the table.
Sitting down with us, he picked a few slices of pizza off a chopping board in front of him and ate with greedy hunger, meaning he’d probably been hard at work… somewhere… not looking after himself. It wasn’t coincidental he was back on this day of all days but I had to stop myself from asking, why? I didn’t want his answer.
“It was a successful induction day, if you were wondering,” I told him. “I sent them home with homework.”
Laughs were raised among the other girls and Dante cottoned on. “What homework?”
“Handcuff themselves to the bed or something, and see how their husband reacts. Either he takes them off… or takes advantage… or both… or asks to swap places.”
He laughed loudly. “I love it.”
“They wanted me as their teacher,” I explained, in a forthright voice.
�
�Why?” Dante scoffed his food, using his meal to cover up his sheepishness.
“They heard I tamed you. They wanted to know how.”
“You didn’t tame me, if anything you made me worse.”
The others looked at one another, then back at us, intrigued.
“Worse?” For a moment, I felt confused.
“Being in love makes a man want so much more from life. That’s all that counts at the end of the day. Wanting someone, loving them… it makes a man capable of doing and saying anything. I was out of control before you, but now I’m controlled… because I love you… because I’d do anything for you, absolutely anything. There it’s made me worse, because I’ll break bones, shatter loyalties… anything… to protect you. Underneath, I’m more at odds… I’m worse, even though I’m happier. It’s a crazy man thing, but settling down doesn’t tame a man… it frees him to be the man he really is, with the woman who loves him the same, no matter what, because she loves the truth of what he is.”
Amber looked at me as if she didn’t get it, then her face softened into a glow of understanding. I’d given Dante so much and in return, he’d given me his fidelity, but only because of my sacrifice. It was a double-edged sword.
“I’d kill for someone to feel like that about me,” said Tara, saying what others were thinking.
“That’s the thing about Ciara,” Dante explained, “she covets nothing, and people love her for it. Especially me.”
“I hardly think that’s true. I covet you… remember?”
“Not really. You just like whipping me,” he retaliated, meaning it to be a joke, but it was one I no longer really liked.
“Take me home to Knightsbridge?” I whispered in his ear.
“Okay.” He nodded, finishing up his food.
“Will you all be okay tonight if Ciara and myself go out? I can call some security to keep you company if you wish.”
“We’ll be fine. I’ll set all the alarms, check the doors and windows, it’ll be cool,” Amber reassured us.
“Okay,” I agreed, and we left the room to head upstairs and quickly pack.
It was true that I hated him still, and hadn’t yet forgiven him a dozen crimes he’d committed against me, but I also needed his body and I wanted to be back in his arms, as soon as possible. The Knightsbridge house would give us the privacy we couldn’t get at the spa.
“What is it to be tonight, Ciara? Handcuffs on me or you?”
“Me, god me,” I whispered, shuddering as I thought about it. “I’ve been so stressed, I just need to have the weight taken off me tonight.”
“Absolutely. Can’t wait… although someone has changed her tune?”
“Well,” I shrugged, “have you been chaste these past two weeks.”
He nodded and I saw no lie in his eye.
“Good.”
A few of my things thrown into a bag, we left the house and jumped into one of the spare cars outside, a Porsche Boxster. I climbed into the driving seat and steadily took the car to the edge of the driveway before the gates popped open for us, no doubt at Amber’s instruction.
“Are you ready?” I asked him.
“Ready for what?”
“In Ireland, I had to manage differentials on a thirty-tonne hay bale load, going uphill with potholes galore to navigate. This is like driving air in comparison.”
I skidded out onto the road and cheesed it.
“Wow,” he whispered, holding onto the car trims.
“You have so much to learn,” I told him, “and this car was meant to be shredded, unlike that big old tanker you just got rid of.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” he said, with a wink.
“God, I love this car!” I shouted, throwing his large frame back into the beige leather of his seat as I took the car from nought to sixty in mere seconds.
As I drove wildly, he didn’t look at me suspiciously and didn’t seem to realise that my behaviour was out of character, either. Which was good. I still had him fooled that I wasn’t preparing to leave him – when I fucking well was. Now I had more than a dozen women at the spa loyal to me, should I ever need their help, which I anticipated I would – I grew more confident everyday that I would finally escape sometime soon.
Before I left him though, there was still time for punishment…
Seventeen
Ciara
WE WERE WELCOMED HOME BY the scent of an unlived-in house. In the six years I’d lived there alone, it’d been kept spic and span (more or less) but since we’d got together, this place had been used more as a between-place. We were only staying here now because he’d blown up the Elstree mansion, which had been my favourite house of his in the UK – his ultimate digs being the Paris apartment of course.
The house alarm still ringing, he shut the front door and asked, “Wait right here while I check we’re okay.”
I watched curiously as he keyed in our code for the alarm system, then made his way upstairs to have a look around. The gym and washing room downstairs, he didn’t bother checking those and instead scoped the living areas up on the first and second floor.
“It’s okay, come up.”
I jumped the stairs and couldn’t find him waiting for me on the first floor so I imagined him already waiting in the bedroom. After I slipped off my shoes in the kitchen, I walked along the landing, past the living room – but his hands around my waist yanked me back against his hard body and he pulled me into the living room, where he must have been hiding behind the door.
His hot breath against the side of my throat, his hands squeezed my breasts hard and I reached my palm behind me to feel his growing erection.
“God, Dante. I hate it when you’re gone. I love you.” I do, but I also hate you.
“I know, kitten. I know.” His use of the feline term told me he needed my submission tonight, my servile body in his arms. He could have it today, but eventually, he would yearn for it – knowing he would never get it back.
I turned my head, lifting my lips up to his. Covering my mouth, Dante’s warm lips sank heat into every pore of my body as he opened me to him and licked my tongue with his.
Turning me to face him, I grabbed his hair and yanked hard as he smashed my hips against his, my butt pulled viciously by his big hands.
Biting his bottom lip, I pulled back and stared at him, challenging him to berate me. He shook his head slightly and I pressed forward and sucked his lip better.
“I want bad things from you, Ciara,” he warned, pressing his lips against my clavicle, his hands still moulding my ass.
“Yes, whatever you want.”
“Strip.”
I pulled free of his arms and looked down at my outfit, the one I’d been wearing all day. A pencil skirt, seamed black stockings with lace tops and white blouse, peeking open ever so slightly to reveal an ivory lace bra beneath. I should’ve kept the stilettos on.
I caught him staring and knew a slow strip would eke out whatever he found arousing about my ensemble.
“Do you like?”
“Yes,” he nodded slowly, “I was hard the whole drive home. You… in that… driving fast. Wicked look in your eye,” he panted, hardly able to speak, “woman, all woman.”
“Baby, I’m a little concerned that the bad things you want won’t be bad enough for me.” I pouted, holding a finger poised at the top button, ready to pop open my shirt. “Maybe I need to know about these bad things before I strip for you.”
“Strip,” he warned, folding his arms, “then bend over the back of the sofa, legs spread as far apart as you can spread them. I want to see all of you.”
The thong between my legs was already saturated. I’d been without for too long.
“Yes, sir.”
He watched as I let my blouse fall from my arms slowly, the garment fluttering to my feet where I fully intended everything else to fall. The skirt unzipped, it slipped easily off my hips.
“Bra off, stockings on,” he goaded.
I unfastened the front
fastening and watched as his mouth spread into a satisfied smile the moment my breasts poured out of the wretched confines of my bra and into the cool, welcoming air around us.
“Wait,” he said, and he left the room briefly, heading to the kitchen.
He came back with my stilettos and leant down to help me put them back on.
“Now, Ciara. This will be better.”
I bent over the large cushions at the back of the sectional seating and got myself comfy, my palms down on the seats so I could bend dramatically. Spreading my legs, I felt him come up behind me and slide his hands up and down the backs of my thighs.
Crouching beneath me, between my legs, he took a long, deep inhale of my crack.
“Ciara, you are so beautiful. I missed you so much.”
“Please, sir. I need you… but wear a condom. We need to be safe, remember?”
“Yes, fine. So tell me how you need me.”
“Every way how. Need your arms, your body, your cock. I need all of you. It hurts so much, this love hurts.” But love shouldn’t hurt, it should heal… and all it has done is hurt… but not for much longer…
A tear leaked from my eye, thinking about the worst case scenario: that maybe he would die without me. Maybe I was wrong about him.
He pulled my thong to the side, taking one lick of my slit on his tongue, his delicate flesh against mine sending warm waves through my entire being.
“Gorgeous,” he said, then kissed the back of my right thigh, then my left. Kissing and licking over the stockings still covering my thighs, I wanted nothing more than for him to fuck me, take me, and have done.
I wriggled in his hold, his hands sliding continuously up and down the backs of my legs.
“Please.”
“I’m enjoying you, let me,” he whispered.
“Okay, sir. Enjoy me.” While you still have me… which won’t be forever.
He kissed up and down my legs, over my ass and up to my exposed lower back.
All the time my gape filled with more moisture and longing, so that I began to get light-headed.
The Fix (Nightlong Series Book 2) Page 16
