Bind

by Sierra Cartwright

  She glowered but accepted the garment. Then she went to a rack and picked out something that looked like it would hit her below the knee. It was a putrid light brown. “My future wife is not wearing puce.”

  “It’s taupe.”

  He said nothing.

  With a sigh, she returned it and pulled out a purple dress that was more than adequate for the office. It was sleeveless and had a square neckline. In short it was classy and elegant, her signature style. No doubt it was also figure flattering. “You can have that in addition to something else. That will be good for tomorrow’s gathering with my family.”

  “I can’t afford two new dresses,” she protested.

  “You don’t need to.”

  “You’re not buying my clothes.”

  “Then maybe you can arrange for some overtime at the office. Or just buy one.”

  The clerk who’d just finished ringing up a sale came over. “Can I start a dressing room for you?”

  “Thank you.” Lara gave the three outfits to the woman.

  The clerk unlocked a wooden door, hung up the dresses, then said, “Let me know if I can do anything to help.”

  After Lara promised to do so, the clerk wandered off to greet a new customer.

  “Go ahead and try them on,” he encouraged. Unless you want to buy new shoes as well, the black is probably the best choice.” Those red heels with that dress? He wondered if he’d survive it. “And we do have reservations.”

  She entered the dressing room and closed the door. Since it didn’t go all the way to the floor, he saw her place her purse on the carpet. Next he heard the sound of her pulling off her dress. He gave her about sixty seconds before saying, “Show me.”

  A few seconds later, she did. She’d put on the purple dress. As always, she knew exactly what was right for her. “Elegant.” He’d be so damn proud to have her at his side as his bride and partner.

  She surveyed herself critically in the mirror, smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle. “I love it,” she said.

  A few minutes later, she returned wearing the red dress. “I don’t like it,” she said.

  He shook his head.

  “What? You’re not going to tell me everything I put on is wonderful?”

  “Why would I do that? I want you to feel confident. And it bunches around the hip. Your body is perfect. The dress isn’t.”

  She sighed.

  “Honesty,” he reminded her. “It’s the only way to build trust. So admit it. You like the black dress.”

  “It’s nice. But it’s not my style.”

  “It could be if you’re brave enough.” He enjoyed the thrust and parry with Lara. This woman wasn’t just steamily sexy, she was savvy. Brains and beauty were a combination he was finding delicious.

  After the way she’d responded yesterday in the playroom, he’d suspected she would enjoy this afternoon’s scene. Then, he’d trained her how to greet him. When he’d smacked her cunt, her reaction had astounded him. She’d come hard, fast, wet. It had cost him plenty in terms of restraint to be polite and hold a conversation in the car. His blood had blazed in his brain, demanding he take her. He’d left her on the verge of a climax at her house. But he hadn’t told her that all her suffering made his dick ache.

  Then she’d presented herself in the playroom. Her innocence and nudity would undo the hardest heart.

  The way she’d taken his single tail had given him immense satisfaction, a feeling of pride, even. He’d intended to go slowly, but he’d listened to her moans. He’d allowed her to drive the scene, and he’d given her what she asked for.

  That she was willing to please him caused a mad demand and protective need to collide in him. He’d wanted to fuck her then, when she was striped, burning, on the edge. It’d been days since he’d jacked off, and thoughts of taking her were beginning to consume him. It would no doubt blow his mind. But a quick joining wouldn’t do it for him. He wanted time to explore her and learn more about her. Which meant he had to wait. “Quit stalling. Or I’m coming in.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  His hand was on the door handle when she pulled it open.

  “You would have,” she amended.

  He started to answer, but she interrupted, “You do what you say you’re going to do.”

  “Count on it. Count on me. Now let me see you.”

  “I need a bigger size.”

  He moved back so that she had room. “Step out.”

  Slowly she did so.

  “Hands behind your neck and turn all the way around.”

  She glanced around to see if anyone was staring.

  “Gaze on me.”

  When she looked at him, he continued, “No one else matters. Even if you’re momentarily embarrassed, you’ll still be pleasing me. People aren’t watching you as much as you think they are. And you’ll never see them again. Worry about me.”

  She put her hands behind her neck and slowly turned.

  “Stop.” Because of where the floor-length mirror was positioned, he saw her reflection. She was worrying her lower lip. “I can see a couple of marks. Before you wear it again, I’ll use a cane first.”

  “It’s too…” Lara tugged on the neckline then the hem. “I was going to say it’s too much, but the truth is, it’s too damn little. There’s not enough of it to cover anything.”

  “It was made for you.”

  She completed her circle and looked at him. “Do you know how much this thing costs per square inch?”

  “Spoken like a CFO. They’re the only ones who would calculate a dress that way.”

  “Anyone with a brain would,” she countered as she let her hands fall to her sides. “At least cost per wear. How many times would I wear something like this?”

  He shrugged. “Dozens?”

  “Real life isn’t like that.” She rolled her eyes. “No one dresses like this on a regular basis.”

  “My wife damn well will.”

  The clerk came over. “Your husband is right. It’s beautiful on you.”

  “He’s not my—”

  “Yet,” he finished. “She’ll take it and the other one.”

  “I’ll pay for the purple one. But since the black one is yours, you can pay for it.”

  “Excellent solution.” He told the clerk to ring them up, giving Lara no further opportunity for argument. “The only thing missing is jewelry.”

  “Absolutely not,” Lara said.

  “We have some nice costume pieces,” the woman supplied helpfully.

  He wandered to the necklaces while Lara changed back into her own clothes and paid for the purple dress. A little while later, she joined him.

  “No arguments,” he said before she could open her mouth. “Try this.” He removed the triangle-shaped pendant and fastened the choker around her neck. It was ridiculous how much he liked the way it looked. “It’ll do until we can get you a real collar.”

  Her eyes widened. “You’re scaring the crap out of me. Your contract said that would only be for when we attended lifestyle events.”

  He nodded. “We’ll talk about it. Will you wear the necklace? Not as a symbol, but because it will look nice with the dress?”

  “Connor.”

  “Your choice, Lara. I won’t force you.”

  “I’ll consider it,” she hedged.

  “Fair enough.” He unfastened the clasp then went to pay for his purchases.

  Within five minutes, they were on the way home. The tissue-wrapped necklace was stowed inside the garment bag, but he’d left the pendant behind.

  “So you bought me a dress instead of paying off the debt of a medium-sized corporation?”

  “A small one,” he agreed.

  He let them both into the house, and he said, “Can I pour you a fresh glass of wine before I take my shower?”

  “I can get it, if you’d like?”

  “Yeah.” He wanted her to feel totally at ease, find her way around the kitchen, make her mark on it like he intended to l
eave his on her.

  He left the bag in the bedroom closet before heading into the shower.

  She joined him in the bathroom. “Is it okay if I fix my makeup in here? Or do you want me to do it somewhere else?”

  “This is fine.” The intimacy of the scene didn’t escape him. She was the first woman he’d had in his loft. If things worked the way he envisioned, this would become a habit.

  After rinsing off the soap, he sluiced the water off then exited the stall. Belatedly, he reached for a white towel and wrapped it around his hips.

  She had turned and was looking at him. She was wearing the black dress. She’d layered on a smoky gray eye shadow, touched up her mascara, and a tube of lipstick was suspended in front of her. She’d swiped a touch of red across her lower lip, but the top was alluringly bare. “Ah…”

  “Yeah. Don’t think that beating your hot ass and licking your pussy hasn’t affected me.”

  She put down the lipstick. “You say stuff like that on purpose.”

  He crooked a finger at her and she went to him.

  He kissed her, sucking her lip into his mouth then devouring her. She lifted up to thread her hands into his hair.

  The towel fell and his cock pressed against her dress.

  With her eyes closed, she responded completely to him. No matter the words that sometimes came out of her mouth, her body told the truth. She wanted him, and she was willing to submit.

  Since they still needed to make it to dinner, he reluctantly ended the kiss. “I’m afraid I’ve made a mess of your lipstick.”

  “I’m more than okay with that.”

  As he dried himself, he watched her. She was reapplying the red while she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. The little tease was taking her time, going back and forth, intentionally driving him mad. “You’ll pay for that,” he vowed.

  “What?” She opened her eyes, wide and innocent, watching him watch her. “I’m just making sure I don’t miss a spot.”

  She blotted off the excess and dropped the tissue onto the countertop. The shape of her lips was there, in tormenting glory.

  “You’re going to get what you’re asking for if you keep that up,” he told her.

  In response, she reached for the dress’s hem and pulled it up above her hips. She had no panties on underneath. He saw bites from his whip. It had to hurt still. And she was asking for more. Heat, molten and demanding, pulsed in him. “Careful,” he warned.

  “I’m being nothing but, Sir,” she responded.

  He dropped his towel and moved to her left side.

  Again without being told, she grabbed hold of the countertop.

  “How many, Lara?”

  She turned her head to look at him. “Whatever you say, Sir.”

  “Six.” Fuck. His cock throbbed, its tip pressing against her skin.

  She moved to spread her legs wider. He had to have a taste.

  He touched her pussy. She was already damp, and as he stroked, she became wetter. He brought his finger to his mouth and sucked it.

  This time, he didn’t warm her up. Instead, he put a hand on her butt cheek. Then, satisfied with the placement, drew back and landed it.

  She gasped at the force and moved away.

  Just as fast, she wiggled back and presented her ass.

  Connor put the next two on top of the first, offering no quarter, delivering what she craved, making sure she’d feel it as she sat in his car then later on a chair at dinner.

  “That hurts…so good.”

  He moved farther away and repositioned himself slightly so he could use his forehand to spank her other buttock. She pulled away after the first to regroup, but then looked at him, straight in the eye. Hunger was etched on her face.

  “Ready, Sir.”

  He couldn’t fathom there being anyone more suited to him. Whatever he offered, she accepted.

  He finished her off, and she took it with nothing more than a quick inhalation. “That ought to hold you, sub.”

  “For a while,” she agreed.

  “Shall I cancel the reservations?”

  “I’m afraid I’ll wear you out if you do, Sir.”

  “Do you have any idea the danger you’re inviting?” he asked.

  “Probably not.” She reached out to put a fingertip on his jaw. “But I’m learning to trust you.”

  Potent words. “I may have to choose some sort of other punishment for you,” he said. “Like standing in the corner.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Then you couldn’t touch me.”

  “You’re too clever by far, Lara. Finish getting ready.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She gave a quick, sassy grin before leaving him in the bathroom.

  When he joined her, she was wearing the dress and her shoes. “It’s even better with the heels,” he said. Her calves were accentuated, and her legs seemed to go on forever. “I may never let you wear anything else. When you’re done with that dress, the cost per wear will be about twelve cents. Did you put on panties?”

  “No.”

  “I shouldn’t have asked.”

  She picked up her glass of wine and told him she’d meet him in the living room.

  He dressed, and he grabbed the necklace as he left the closet. He found her near the window, looking out. “It’s one of my favorite views,” he said.

  “It’s a lot different from my slice of heaven,” she said, turning to face him.

  He nodded. “Will you wear this?” He held up the necklace.

  “Only because I think you’re right. It will look good with the dress.”

  Lara turned her back to him then lifted her hair for him to fasten the clasp.

  “Let’s see.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Couldn’t be any better. There’s a mirror near the coat stand.”

  He went with her and stood behind her. While she fingered it, he experienced an unusual feeling of possessiveness. He wasn’t sure he liked the sensation. Over the years, he’d told himself that he didn’t get involved because relationships were owed an investment of his time and energy that he didn’t have to give.

  Now he wondered if he’d been honest with himself.

  He’d never been in love. Maybe because he’d never given himself that opportunity. Experience had taught him that emotion could be a messy thing. It could cause damage. And initially, perhaps that had been part of the appeal of Lara’s proposal. After all, a business arrangement, he understood.

  But with the sight of her, his hands on her shoulders, the dress and jewelry he’d purchased adorning her body, he recognized that this—Lara—had become much more than that.

  “I think I’d like it better if it had the pendant on it.”

  “I’m sure you would.” Before she could begin an argument, he said, “Are you ready to go?”

  She collected her purse and headed for the parking garage. “Are you driving us?”

  “I gave April the weekend off.”

  Traffic through downtown wasn’t as big of a challenge as he’d assumed it would be, and they arrived at the luxury hotel a few minutes ahead of schedule. After turning over the car to a valet, Connor rounded the hood to meet Lara.

  He placed his fingertips against the small of her back and guided her inside. He saw two marks on the backs of her legs. Neither was really obvious, but to him, they were significant. “Thank you for wearing this dress.” With the patent red peek-a-boo heels, straight spine, hair flirting with her shoulders, she was breathtaking. To her credit, she didn’t tug on the hem. She’d apparently grown accustomed to it, and she wore the outfit like no one else could.

  Once they stepped off the elevator on the nineteenth floor, he gave the hostess his name, and they were immediately led to a table next to the window.

  He pulled back her chair, and she sat then adjusted her weight.

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  She gave him a wry smile. “Ouch,” she mouthed.

  He took his seat across from her.<
br />
  The city lay beneath them. From their vantage point, they looked east—an endless panorama dotted by occasional buildings. Pure potential was there, untapped and waiting.

  “I’ve heard of this restaurant,” she said, “but I’ve never been here.”

  “They’re famous for their seafood and steaks.”

  “And the views, obviously,” she added. “I love my hometown. I’m glad I went away at times. It made me appreciate it more.”

  “Part of the reason you care deeply about BHI.”

  “Roots,” she agreed. “Connection. It matters.”

  “I couldn’t have said it better.”

  She ordered the Gulf shrimp platter, and he had a medium-rare steak. Once she’d consumed half a glass of wine, her posture became a little more relaxed and she became more animated than usual.

  “I understand why you like living downtown. Everything’s close, and it’s got a certain energy, doesn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It’s become part of me.”

  She swirled her finger around the rim of her glass. “What do you do to relax?”

  “I exercise,” he said. “Swim. Use the rowing machine you saw in my workout room. On rare occasions, I walk to work.”

  “That’s it? The pictures in your home office… There was one with you and Erin in Cozumel. But that was a few years ago.”

  She was treading in territory he’d rather keep private, but if she was going to spend the next few years with him, she had that right. “I haven’t taken a vacation recently.”

  “Not even a getaway, like to New Orleans? Galveston? South Padre Island?”

  “No. You?”

  Lara sat back and crossed her legs. “We were talking about you.”

  “Which I’m not accustomed to doing.” Business, yes. But with the exceptions of Nathan and a few close friends, Connor kept conversation general, sports, business, weather.

  “Even when we’re intimate, you seem to be somewhat distant. Like you’re holding yourself back.”

  Perceptive.

  She tipped her head to one side. “It makes me wonder if you’ve always been like that. Or if it’s because we don’t have a…” She paused.

  Since he had never supplied information that he didn’t need to, he waited while she searched for the right words.

  Finally, she settled for, “This relationship hasn’t progressed like normal ones.”