The silence between them stretched, even after the waiter had left – practically bowing as he backed away from their table. Kara felt the champagne haze wash over her, bubbles dancing through her bloodstream and making her pleasantly dizzy. There was a low-level buzz of anticipation in the air between them. This time though she had a better idea of what to expect. There would be no coy uncertainty; Kara knew an encounter with Mike would be highly charged and unsettling. And she knew that she liked it.
‘I want to know everything,’ Mike said at last. ‘What turns you on, what you dream of late at night, when you’re alone in your bed with your hand jammed between your legs. I want to know the pictures that you see in your head and exactly how you feel when you’re horny.’
His voice was low but clear and Kara automatically huddled closer, looking about warily to see who was sitting near them. It was as though she was sitting in the waltzers and someone had just spun the seats round – she felt the delicious spark and the nervous lurch, her surroundings blurred so that she had to focus on Mike and Mike alone, as though anything else would send her spinning off into space. Her mouth opened but she didn’t know what to say.
‘This isn’t going to be some swift and sordid affair, Kara. I’m not interested in knee-tremblers in the back of a car, even if it is hard to resist the urge. I said I wanted to fuck you thoroughly and I mean it. That means I want to know you. Your body and your fantasies through and through.’ He leaned forwards. ‘Am I shocking you?’
Kara bit her lip. ‘A little.’
‘Good. I like it that you’re shockable.’
‘And what about your tastes and fantasies and yada yada yada? What do you want?’ she asked.
‘I should have thought that was obvious.’ Mike took a cigarette from his breast pocket and twisted it between his fingers. He smiled. ‘I want to drive you mad with desire, of course. But first I want to find out which buttons to push.’
Kara laughed. ‘So what, I should write you a laundry list?’
Mike said nothing, twirling the cigarette between his knuckles.
‘Are you going to smoke that thing, or are you practising for the majorettes?’
‘I gave up.’
‘So why do you have one in your pocket?’
Mike gave her a thin smile. ‘Like I was trying to show you, Kara, anticipation is more than half the pleasure. If you knew that I’d booked a room here, for example, with the serious intent of taking you upstairs later and fucking you, you’d start to feel a little … heated.’
Kara swallowed. ‘And have you?’
‘Maybe. But tell me, if I had, what would you imagine?’
‘Uh, you ripping my skirt off and fucking me senseless?’
‘Bullshit.’ Mike shifted in his seat and frowned. ‘Would I be slow and deliberate? Would I be rough? Would I kiss you before I stripped you?’
‘There are people …’ Kara looked urgently over Mike’s shoulder, to where a table of businessmen sat idly chatting.
‘I’m not interested in them. Start here. Start half an hour from now.’
‘I’ll be half cut by then.’
‘You’re sitting in your seat.’
Kara inhaled. ‘OK. I’m sitting in my seat.’
‘Your breasts feel tight. Your nipples are hard. You know what we’re about to do.’
Kara swallowed. The thought of admitting her fantasies to Mike was like standing on the edge of a shark-infested sea, wondering whether they’d bite and how hard. She shut her eyes, took a deep breath and jumped. ‘I’m already wet.’
‘Where?’
‘In between my legs.’ Kara lowered her voice to a whisper. She leaned forwards now, put her arms on the table and shook her fringe over her eyes.
‘Don’t hide behind your hair. You’re wet between your legs.’
‘Yes.’
‘And then what?’
‘You, you take me by the hand and we go upstairs.’ Kara stared at her glass, at the bubbles that clung to the side before tugging free and lifting to the surface. ‘We go slowly.’
‘Why?’
‘It’s hard to walk. I’m so turned on I’m shaky. And you’re feeling me as we go up the stairs.’
‘I slip my hand under your skirt, check how wet you are,’ Mike added. ‘And then we get to the room.’
‘You push me up against the door. I’m trying to open the door, but I can’t find the key because you’re kissing my neck, biting me.’
‘Actually, no.’ Mike’s voice had lowered. In the dull light of the bar his cheekbones were shadowed and his eyes glinted. Waiters and club members moved around them in a low murmur of hushed sound, but Kara felt as though she was connected to Mike with an invisible rope, a line that stretched from her groin and her belly and down through her arms to reach out to him. When he talked, she watched his mouth and felt it on her skin, when he played with the cigarette, she felt him tangle his hands in her hair, tease shivers from her body. ‘I won’t touch you. Not until the door’s closed and you’re standing in the centre of the room, with your hands hanging by your side.’
Mike sat back in his chair, legs splayed. Kara let her gaze fall to his lap, where she could see a tightening of the fabric of his suit – loose as it was, there was a definite outline where his cock pressed against his thigh.
‘Because,’ he said, ‘we’re not just fucking, are we? We’re playing a game. The rules of which we’re deciding now.’
‘I thought you wanted to hear my fantasies?’
‘Yes. And how they intersect with mine. I’m not interested in the way you are with Tam or any of your other paramours. I want to hear your deeper fantasies. The ones you wouldn’t dare admit to.’
Kara pressed her lips together. The bar was growing slowly busier with professionals and the lazy rich, mostly men, a few women moving among them with poised glamour, leaving trails of Chanel in their wake.
‘I’m standing in the centre of the room,’ she said finally. ‘You undress me, and I don’t move. When I’m naked, no, wait, half naked –’
‘I’ve taken your underwear off, but left this on –’ Mike reached over, lifted the strap of Kara’s white camisole ‘– so that I can see the line of your breasts through it, the curve of your hip, the shadow of your hair.’ He trailed the back of his hand down her arm as he sat back, giving her goosebumps.
Her eyes burned. ‘You feel me, just a little, enough to make me gasp. And then …’ She looked at his clothes. ‘Then you take off your tie. Pull my wrists behind me and knot them together.’
Mike raised an eyebrow. ‘Interesting.’
‘So I can’t move, while you do whatever you please.’
‘And you want this?’
The two of them sat now with their gazes locked on each other. Kara nodded. ‘Oh yes.’
‘I can lift your top and play with your tits. I can push you backwards until you fall on the bed. Will you like that?’
‘Keep going.’ Kara gritted her teeth.
‘If I get bored, playing with your body, I can turn on the TV and find the movie channel. Watch some porn.’
Kara could feel points of heat burning on her cheeks and she was breathing with her mouth open. She wondered if it was really possible to come just from listening to someone speak.
Underneath her sequinned red skirt she was wearing a pair of string knickers, the kind that tended to curl up and cut into her skin. For a change, the irritating strip of fabric had become a blessing – it gave her something to rub up against if she rocked very slowly back and forth, letting the tight edges saw against the side of her clit.
The pictures in her head flickered faster, coming in sudden bursts now: Mike’s hand between her legs, the blue glow of the TV screen in the corner of the hotel room, Mike unzipping himself.
‘Then,’ she whispered fiercely, ‘you take out your cock. You push me onto my front and open my legs. You drive yourself into me, until I can feel your balls against me and your cock fills me completely. I’m
so fucking horny, but you won’t touch my clit, won’t untie my hands so I can make myself come.’
‘Even if you beg me. I just keep fucking you. And then I start feeling your arsehole.’
Behind them, Kara saw a waiter turn round and give them a curious look, before turning away quickly. She wondered if this kind of conversation happened a lot at Windigo’s. Did men bring their mistresses here? Hookers? Was that why the blinds were pulled down and the lights were so low?
‘And then I sink my cock into your arse,’ Mike said, laying his hand on her knee and squeezing.
‘Uh, no, hold up,’ Kara said. ‘Don’t go there.’
‘No? OK. Maybe later. I’ll break you in slowly.’ Mike smiled. ‘So then, I fuck you harder. Pull out and come over your back. Let it cool.’
‘But don’t let me shower. Leave me there, tied up, sweating, begging.’
Mike narrowed his eyes. ‘I’ll bury my face between your legs and lick you. Just lightly. Slowly, like I’m eating a particularly delicious bowl of ice cream.’
‘Sounds good,’ Kara said, digging her nails into her palms. She glanced quickly at the champagne, noted how much was left in the bottle.
Mike continued talking. ‘I’ll draw it out until you can’t stand it. Until you can’t think and can’t speak and can’t breathe. And then I’ll tweak your nipples and suck on your clit and make you come so that you scream into the feather pillows.’
‘OK,’ Kara said. ‘We need to go upstairs. Now.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Mike. ‘Perhaps we need to work out the finer –’
Kara stood up abruptly and dragged him to his feet. ‘Where are these rooms?’ She jiggled her foot.
‘Are you sure you –’
Kara hissed in his face. ‘I don’t care where we’re going, Mike, or what the “agreement” is – we need to fuck, right now.’
He mock-bowed to her, like the waiter acceding to his patron’s demands. ‘Madam. I’ll be happy to take you up to my room and play dirty games with you. Just let me pay the bar tab first, OK?’
As they stood at the desk waiting, Kara gripped her hands behind her back. The warmth of Mike’s body was just a few inches away and the knowledge of what his hands and his mouth would soon be doing to her made her feel as jittery as a schoolgirl. She wandered over to the window and looked out onto the square, tried to distract herself by watching the crowds of black-clad teenagers congregating like flocks of crows under the art gallery’s pillars. Finally, a man in a pinstriped suit appeared behind the desk. Kara turned and watched as his impassive face creased into a smile.
‘Mr Greene,’ he said smoothly. ‘I’ve reserved room five for you. I hope that’s to your satisfaction.’
‘Wonderful, thank you Robert.’
‘I know Ms Warren –’ The man’s eyes flicked towards Kara and widened abruptly. ‘I beg your pardon,’ the man murmured, lowering his gaze and sliding a set of keys over the desk to Mike. ‘Enjoy your stay,’ he said, his face darkening under his white stubble as he turned and hurried away.
‘Shall we?’ Mike said, gesturing to the stairs.
Kara stood in silence. Her heart lurched and then froze, as though a sliver of ice from the champagne had lodged in her chest. She felt as though she was rooted to the spot.
‘Something the matter?’ Mike asked, a note of irritation creeping into his voice. ‘You’re not going to run off again, I hope.’ He rattled the keys and shoved a hand in his pocket. When Kara didn’t respond, he walked to her and took her arm. ‘If you want to walk away now, that’s all right. But this will be the last chance I’ll give you, Kara.’
She looked at the stairs. Small white lights dotted each tread, like the lowlights in a theatre that showed you where to walk when the power went off. In the hallway the scent of lilies was overpowering, as sweet and heavy as a drug. Mike was next to her, stroking the underside of her arm where the skin was soft, and breathing evenly. It didn’t matter that her heart was squeezing in her chest. Kara’s body was still oiled, weak and ready with want for Mike. She let him lead her, across the hall and up the staircase, towards room number five and whatever awaited her.
7
HE CLOSED THE door behind her. ‘Christ, you’re quite pale,’ he said.
She looked around. A lot of polished wood and white linen. More flowers on the table, black tulips this time, the stems bowing under the weight of the full, sleek blossoms.
‘Nice,’ she said faintly.
‘Well, it’s a hotel room. What were you expecting – chains and a rack?’ Kara pressed her lips together. Mike laughed. ‘I don’t need any fancy props right now. Just you.’
His voice had changed, subtly. There was a dark quality in his words that she could hear very faintly, like the flow of an underground river. Kara wanted something to hold on to but there was nothing near her, and so she stood in the centre of the room just as he’d told her she would, waiting.
He was unknotting his tie, pulling it through his hand to loosen the creases, and she listened to the faint hiss of silk as it slid over his palm. She was shaking a little, the ghosts of uncertainty and anticipation whirling around her. As Mike came close to her and took her hands, Kara concentrated on the feel of him, on how he held her so gently as he looped the tie round her wrists.
It was all new and she let the movements unfold in a series of strangely delicious sensations – the feel of her arms pulled back behind her so that her breasts thrust forwards, the tight binding of the fabric against her wrists that felt surprisingly like a very warm, very safe embrace. Most of all, she felt a rushing, a widening expanse that flowed from her joined wrists and her rigidly bound arms. She recognised it, suddenly, as the sensation of power finally slipping away from her, and wondered how it could make her feel quite so free, almost as though she were flying.
He tugged on the knot to test it and stood behind her, running a finger down the curve of her spine.
‘Remember, any time you want to stop, say “Stop”,’ Mike murmured, his mouth next to her ear, his lips brushing her lobe. And then his hands were slipping under her arms, sliding over her belly and digging under her waistband. She leaned back against him, trying to push her buttocks against his groin, but he held himself at a distance.
With Mike behind her, and her wrists tied, she could do nothing to stop him and nothing to help him. He continued at his own pace, pushing her skirt down to her knees and leaving her like that, naked but not graceful, twisting her hips in midair.
Just as he’d told her he would, he reached up to undo her bra, pulling it up so that her breasts hung loose inside her shirt, tender but tight, her nipples burning against the slight rub of the ribbed cotton. Kara was undone, her front bared and Mike’s hot hard presence behind her unbearably impossible to reach.
She let a sound escape her mouth, half sigh, half moan, and it was as near as she had come to saying ‘Please.’ Words built up inside her, meaningless fragments, dirty words; she almost wanted to start chanting a litany of obscenities, a list of pleas and incitements that might prompt Mike to do what she asked.
But she bit her lip. Something told her that the more she begged for, the less Mike would give her. His hands were hovering over her naked skin now, brushing feather light under her ribs and over her hip bones. His palms were dry and warm and wide, his fingers rhythmic and deft, working steadily closer to the points where she burned and buzzed and needed to be touched.
‘Is this what you wanted?’ he asked, letting her lean into his shoulder.
‘Mm,’ she answered, not trusting herself to say more.
‘I think it’s more than that,’ he continued, sliding one hand into the brush of hair between her legs and curling his fingers there. He tugged, gently, pulling enough to make the blood rush right to her clit. Kara’s centre of gravity shifted. ‘It’s what you needed,’ Mike whispered, tracing the slit of her lips with the very tip of his forefinger.
Her body needed so badly to move that she bucked again
st his hand.
‘God,’ Mike said as his thumb pressed against her clit. ‘You’re so responsive. Just the right type to tie up and tease.’
Although his honeyed words made Kara’s knees sag with desire, unease started to prick at her. What other type was he thinking of? Who else had he tied up in this room? The answer came back to her immediately.
Lina. Kara saw the other woman’s face vividly, the curled lip of her bitter smile, her copper hair. She almost thought she could catch the scent of her hidden somewhere in the hotel room. And though she was lost in Mike’s game, almost drunk with horniness, the image sobered her like cold water splashed on her face. She struggled, considered shouting ‘Stop,’ had the word on her lips but held back. Was she being compared? How would Lina react to being tied up and teased?
Mike sensed the change. He dropped his arms and stood back. Kara was left swaying, angry at the loss of his touch and confused by the mixture of want and fury that fought within her.
‘Hm,’ Mike said. ‘I think that’s all you need for the moment.’
This time he walked in front of her and started to undress. Through narrowed eyes, Kara watched as he tugged his shirt buttons undone and pulled himself free. His skin was the colour of pale sand, as smooth and sharp as a desert landscape, and when he moved his muscles rippled like shifting dunes. There were faint freckles on his shoulders, and his nipples were as pale as shells, tight knots on his long, elegant torso. His was a body she wanted to explore slowly, the lines and angles and curves of it.
Mike was unzipping his trousers. Kara found her eyes drawn to the springing hair that crept down his belly and trailed lower, to the shadowy groin where he was reaching to free himself. He pulled out his cock and held it slung in his hand. Thick and straight, it was a darker gold than the rest of his body and nicely stiff.
The New Rakes Page 6
