Descended (The Red Blindfold Book 1)

by Rose Devereux

  “Sophie?” he said, peering into my face. “Where are you right now? You seem distracted.”

  I blinked. “I was just thinking about work, that’s all.” I took a hasty sip of wine and looked down at my plate.

  “As long as we’re together, no secrets,” he said gently. “We agreed to that. When I ask you a question, I want honesty.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Then look at me. Tell me. I want to know.”

  “All right.” I leaned forward, keeping my voice low. “I can’t stop thinking – what does it say about me that I’m doing this? Is there something wrong with me?”

  Though his smile was reassuring, I saw a flash of worry in his eyes. “Of course not. It just means you’re exploring new desires.”

  “But you’ve wondered the same thing, haven’t you? You stopped for years because it bothered you so much.”

  He shook his head. “You know what sort of family I come from. It’s not the same for me.”

  “But if I’m part of all this, what’s the difference?”

  “I dictate what happens between us,” he said. “I’m dominant. That gives me the burden of responsibility.”

  “You said I could stop any time and I don’t,” I said. “Isn’t that a kind of responsibility?”

  Obviously seeing my point, he sighed. “Maybe it is, but what you do with it is up to you. You can choose to go, or stay with me and let the next week play out.”

  “And if I stay, what happens after that?”

  “Stand up,” he said. “Come here. Please.”

  I got up and went to his chair. He kissed both of my hands and said, “Kneel down.”

  I looked from left to right at the full restaurant. I’d misunderstood. I must have. “Right now? On the floor?”

  Marc leaned back in his chair. “Yes. Whose opinion matters more? Mine, or theirs?”

  “But --”

  His expression was firm. “I’m not asking, Sophie.”

  With people watching from nearby tables, I knelt on the carpet in my stockings and high heels. He took my face in his hands and kissed my lips softly. As he did, tears flooded my eyes.

  “Don’t worry, Pet,” he said, wiping the single droplet that escaped down my cheek.

  “It’s all happened so fast. I can hardly remember what I was like before.”

  “You’re discovering who you are, that’s all. You’ve brought us both so much pleasure these last few days. You should be proud of yourself, not unhappy.”

  Hands on his wrists, I kissed him back, our tongues touching before our lips pressed together. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “I know what you’re feeling. I mean, I really know.”

  I was so grateful for his reassurance and so wet with excitement, I could have knelt there all night if the waiter hadn’t arrived with our appetizers.

  “Does Madame need something?” he asked, his forehead creased with concern.

  “No, thank you,” I said, rising to my feet. He pulled out my chair and I sat, leaning back so he could replace my napkin on my lap.

  “There isn’t a man in this room who doesn’t want you right now,” Marc said. “Most of us have at least a bit of a dominant side.”

  But I don’t care about other men, I thought as I smiled. The only one I want is you.

  *

  After dinner, Henrik drove us to the same hotel Marc had offered to put me up in before my trip to Amsterdam. It was tucked away on a one-way side street only a few blocks from the restaurant.

  “I’ve been picturing you in the penthouse suite ever since that afternoon,” Marc said, taking my hand across the back seat. “I refuse to let that fantasy go unfulfilled.”

  The hotel was a sleek paean to the Art Deco era, occupying seven floors of a luxurious Haussmann-style building. The lobby was decorated in a spare, elegant style with blue carpeting, sleek chandeliers, and pale gold wallpaper. Walking in beside Marc, I thought of long, slinky dresses and cigarette holders, Greta Garbo and men in fedoras.

  He led me through the reception area, which was filled with people attending a wine tasting. We slipped past the crowd and ducked into an elevator, taking it up to a spacious suite with an expansive view of Paris and the Eiffel Tower. The furniture was charcoal leather, the bed low to the floor and swathed in a thick white duvet. On the coffee table were a huge vase of calla lilies and a bottle of champagne in a metal sleeve.

  Marc uncorked the bottle with a linen napkin and poured two glasses, handing one to me. “Let’s go outside,” he said, opening the sliding doors. “It’s an incredible night.”

  We stepped onto a travertine terrace furnished with modern wicker couches and lush potted trees. Though the air was crisp, I could still feel summer in the occasional warm gust of wind. “It’s beautiful,” I said, leaning my hands against the railing. A bridge glowed in the distance, its arches lit dramatically from underneath. Marc stood a few feet away, his eyes not on the view, but on me.

  “What?” I said, brushing back a strand of hair from my forehead.

  “Nothing. I like spoiling you, that’s all.”

  I smiled, but didn’t answer. Pampered as I felt, the moment was bittersweet, a combination of a perfect experience and the knowledge that it wouldn’t last. Even another week couldn’t give me what I really wanted – all the time in the world. Clarity. The kind of ending that wasn’t an ending, but a beginning.

  “I have something for you,” he said, patting my behind lightly. “Come inside.”

  I followed him to the sitting area. Sitting on an end table was a slender box I hadn’t noticed before.

  “Open it,” he said.

  “What is it?”

  “Open it and find out.”

  The box was ribbonless and covered in black silk. Setting down my champagne, I lifted the lid. Inside was a white organza drawstring bag. I could feel Marc watching me as I opened it and pulled out a stiff but seductively smooth curve of leather, studded with silver rivets.

  If I’d been expecting earrings, then I didn’t know Marc Brayden at all.

  Mouth open, I looked up at him. “What is this? A collar?”

  “Yes,” he said, taking it from me and stretching it open. “I had it made for you. It was delivered this afternoon. Such a gorgeous neck deserves something extraordinary.”

  He instructed me to turn around. Fear and elation dovetailed into a feeling I’d never experienced. I was flattered, terrified, unsure of what I’d do or feel next.

  Before I could think it through, I bent my head forward. I felt the collar slip around my throat and tighten as he fastened the lock at the back. “There’s a key?” I asked.

  “Of course. Only I can remove it now.” He turned me gently by the shoulders. “Let me see you.”

  I stood in a circle of lamplight, my eyes lowered. The silence felt too heavy to break with words.

  “Look at me, Sophie,” Marc said.

  I did, my face and neck flooding with shyness. His lips were parted, his eyes glimmering. He shook his head just a little, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

  “Come with me,” he said. He took my hand and led me toward a round frameless mirror. I stared, nearly gasping at what I saw. Pale skin. Dark red lipstick. A collar buckled tightly around my neck.

  If there’d been any doubt that I was his completely, there was none now.

  He stood behind me with his hands on my waist. “I knew you’d look incredible, but it’s even better than that.”

  “What do you like about it?” I asked, lightly fingering the smooth leather.

  “Everything. Your consent when I put it on you. The contrast of dark and light, black leather against your porcelain skin. Most of all, it’s a sign that you’re learning to trust me.”

  “Is it?” Or was it a sign that I was too infatuated with him to refuse any demand, no matter how humiliating?

  “You allowed me to put it around your neck, didn’t you, knowing I hold the key?” He ran a finger along the collar�
�s edges, just barely touching my skin. “It fits you perfectly. I was sure it would.”

  “What’s the ring in the front for?”

  “I’ll show you right now,” he said, stepping away. “If you’re ready.”

  Reaching into the same silk box, he slipped his hand under the tissue paper. I saw a gleam and heard the silvery clink of metal against metal. It was a thin chain, as beautiful as a piece of jewelry and about three feet long.

  “What do you do with that?” I asked, though I already knew. My heart dropped to my feet when he beckoned to me.

  “A collar is useless unless it links you to me. Come here.”

  With the key in his pocket, I could hardly refuse. He hooked the chain to the ring and gave it a short jerk. I felt it in my throat and the top of my spine.

  “You could hurt me with this,” I said.

  Though his hand was reassuring on my cheek, his words were anything but. “If I couldn’t, there’d be no reason for it, would there?”

  With an air of casual ownership, he unzipped my dress and slipped it off my shoulders. Pursing his lips slightly, he looked at the satin corset and my breasts swelling over the top. “Let’s make it a little tighter,” he said, and untied the bow in front.

  “Tighter?”

  His hands were much stronger than mine, and with a few quick tugs he was able to whittle my waist even further. I tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t. “Perfect,” he said, and knotted the tie.

  Lifting the chain again, he looped it through the arm of a chair and walked around me in circles, sipping his champagne. “I’ve existed on fantasies for almost ten years,” he said, “but I never imagined something so beautiful.”

  Every time I swallowed, the collar seemed to get smaller. My hairline was damp, my heart tripping in my chest. I inhaled slowly and forced down my fear, determined not to show it.

  Marc sat on a sofa and crossed an ankle over his knee. He looked cool and untouchable, completely in command. “Don’t move,” he said, leaning back. “I like you just like that.”

  Minutes ticked by on the wall clock. My calves began to ache, and I was thirsty. My champagne was rapidly going flat three feet away. “Can I sit down?” I asked in a thin voice.

  “Not yet, no.”

  In spite of the pain of standing rigidly in one place, I couldn’t help but admire his focus. This – I – excited him so much, he could spend hours anticipating this moment, setting it up, carrying it out so that all of his expectations were fulfilled.

  Finally, when I thought my ankles might buckle from standing so long in heels, he stood and removed his tie and suit jacket. Never taking his eyes from my face, he lifted the chain and pulled it slowly until I had no choice but to drop my head back. He murmured his approval and kissed my open mouth, plunging his tongue inside with such hunger that every nerve in my body burned. With his free hand he squeezed my tiny corseted waist.

  Trevor’s venomous words flitted through my mind and back out again. He’d never experienced this kind of passion, so he couldn’t understand how consuming it was. It was pointless to expect him to.

  Marc slipped his hand into my panties and found them drenched. “Have you been like this since dinner?” he asked, slowly releasing the tension on the chain.

  “Yes,” I admitted, ashamed. No matter what he did to me, my body loved it and ached for more.

  “Kneeling for me seems to have that effect on you.”

  “I wish I knew why,” I said.

  “You do know why,” he said, sliding his sex-slickened fingers out of my panties and across my belly. “You love being submissive to me. You love giving up control.”

  Wrapping the chain twice around his hand, he led me up two carpeted steps into the bedroom. My throat was constricted and my stomach clenched, but I had to know what was coming next. I’d spent half my life saying no, and I couldn’t stand the idea of doing it anymore. Not with Marc. Not tonight.

  He stopped at the foot of the bed and turned to face me. Beams of white moonlight filtered through the windows, illuminating the chiseled planes of his jaw. “Undress me,” he said. “Take your time doing it.”

  “Or?”

  His tone was firm. “Don’t pretend you haven’t already decided, Sophie.”

  Resistance burned like a tiny match in my chest, but it was quickly extinguished by a surge of arousal. Like an obedient French maid, I loosened his tie and pulled it free of his collar, setting it on the dresser beside me. The chain tinkled with every movement. I unfastened the first mother-of-pearl button, my fingers brushing the golden hollow of his throat. Halfway down, the placket of his shirt fell open, revealing gleaming bare skin.

  “Finish the buttons and then kiss my chest,” he said, his voice like velvet.

  I slid my fingers along the smooth white fabric, trying not to rush. Two buttons. Three. Four.

  By the time I reached the last I was trembling as if I were frozen to the bone. Feeling his dark gaze on me, I parted the shirt and pressed my lips to the area just below his collarbone. His skin was almost feverishly hot.

  “Again,” he said.

  I slid my mouth down to his pectoral muscles, feeling his heart beat against my cheek. Every soft kiss felt like worship, a thrilling subservience I’d never experienced before. I had never felt so desired or so feminine. Even more than the collar, touching him this way felt like the essence of surrender.

  “Lower,” he said.

  I knelt and kissed the hard ridges of his abs. Still he didn’t touch me, he just held the chain taut in his hand. “Take off the rest of my clothes,” he said. “Stay on your knees.”

  He raised each foot to let me remove his shoes and socks. After his belt and trousers, only his boxer briefs remained. Under the fabric his erection bulged, unbelievably huge and thick. I hooked my fingers over the elastic and pulled the boxers off slowly, my breath catching at the sight of him. He was so well-hung and stiff, he’d forever ruined me for anyone else.

  “Take me in your mouth,” he said. “Touch yourself while you do it, but don’t come. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, but –”

  “But?”

  I looked up into his burning gaze. “I’ve never touched myself in front of anyone before.”

  “Then I’ll be the first,” he said, without a hint of sympathy. “Do it.”

  While he watched, I slipped a reluctant hand into my panties. I wanted to please him, even if it meant pushing through my modesty and shame. In the past few days I’d let him spank, crop, and collar me. Masturbating in front of him should be easy in comparison.

  Opening my jaw, I took as much of him as I could manage. “That’s right,” he said in a low, rough voice. “Take every inch.”

  As I slid my lips back and forth, I touched myself with growing excitement. I was so wet my fingers were slippery in an instant. I hadn’t known how good it would feel to obey Marc’s orders, but after tonight I’d never doubt him again.

  I gently sucked his swollen tip, holding his smooth, heavy balls in my hand. Every part of him was bigger, harder, better-endowed than any other man I’d known. Grabbing the back of my head, he thrust forcefully into my throat, filling me so completely I could hardly breathe.

  “Pretty little cocksucker,” he growled. “I love fucking your gorgeous mouth. I think about it all the time.”

  He drove himself into my throat until my lips felt bruised and his thigh muscles were rigid under my hands. Just when I thought he would spurt onto my tongue, he stopped and withdrew, his erection thickly-veined and glistening.

  “Good girl,” he said, stroking my cheek. “Stand up and come to bed with me.”

  He pulled the chain just hard enough to show that he expected immediate compliance. I got up and followed him, my knees burning from the rug.

  After tossing the pillows aside, he sat naked with his back against the tall leather headboard. “Strip off your panties and straddle me,” he said.

  As he watched, chain in hand, I pulled
the panties off over my thigh-highs and shoes and mounted his thighs. He held his shaft by the base, the dark red tip poised to enter me. My heart fluttered as my tissues began to part for him. He was so hard against my delicate flesh that my first instinct was to contract my muscles. Undeterred, he pushed past my tightness with a single savage thrust.

  “You little tease,” he said under his breath, and let out a groan of pleasure. Penetrated to the core, every part of me released and hummed.

  I’m addicted to this, I thought, shifting my hips to accommodate his girth. I’d been deprived of real desire for so long that now I couldn’t live a day without it.

  The collar held the curve of my throat in a warning grip, tightening whenever I moved. For the first time in my life I wasn’t free to get up, to turn around and leave. I wasn’t just acting the part of a submissive held captive by her master. That woman was me.

  “Don’t fight the chain,” he said, untying the corset’s knot and exposing my breasts. “Relax. Surrender to it.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “Trying to surrender won’t work. You can only give in.”

  I hooked a finger over the leather edge and pulled. It didn’t budge. “If I wanted you to take it off, would you?”

  He drew my face close to his and kissed me. “No, Pet,” he whispered against my lips. “And you’d be disappointed if I would. You know that.”

  His voice was dangerously persuasive. What separated him, really, from Sade? He hadn’t poisoned me into submission, but I’d gone down on my knees in public and given him everything he demanded. I craved his orgasms while mine concerned me less and less. In only a few days, I’d learned to find my own joy in his.

  Underneath the trappings of our affair, the expensive lingerie and dinners in exclusive restaurants, that was what scared me most.

  “You’ve been so good, I think you deserve a reward,” he said, his eyes searing into mine. “I want you to come for me.”