The Bracelet

by Fredrica Alleyn

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Also by Fredrica Alleyn

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Copyright

  About the Book

  B is for Bondage…

  When Kristina spots her best-friend wearing a pretty new bracelet, little does she know that her new piece of jewellery hides a multitude of erotic secrets.

  Enticed by her friend’s saucy tales, Kristina finds herself joining a very discreet society, and meeting the dark and mysterious Tarquin Rashid who promises to fulfil all her fantasies, if she’ll only submit to his every whim…

  About the Author

  Fredrica Alleyn is the pseudonym of an author who also writes crime and horror fiction. She lives in Lincoln.

  Fredrica is the author of Cassandra’s Chateau, Cassandra’s Conflict, Dark Obsession, Deborah’s Discovery, Dramatic Affairs, Fiona’s Fate and The Gallery, also available from Black Lace.

  She also writes as Marina Anderson – the bestselling author of Haven of Obedience.

  Also by Fredrica Alleyn:

  Cassandra’s Chateau

  Cassandra’s Conflict

  Dark Obsession

  Deborah’s Discovery

  Dramatic Affairs

  Fiona’s Fate

  The Gallery

  Chapter One

  KRISTINA MASTERTON PICKED up her copy of The Publishing News and studied the front page article carefully. ‘Kristina Goes for the Kill’ screamed the headline and beneath it was an accurate, if unflattering, description of the way she’d handled the auction for Martin Templar’s new thriller. ‘Attractive Kristina said afterwards that she was “very pleased” with the way things had gone,’ concluded the article. ‘This can only make one wonder what it would take to make her delighted.’

  With a sigh, Kristina put the glossy paper down on her desk and leaned back in her chair. It was a fair article, there was a very flattering picture of her to accompany it, and if the comments were slightly barbed she knew they held the ring of truth.

  She tried in vain to remember when she had last felt ‘delighted’ about anything. According to magazines and newspapers she was the young businesswoman who, at the early age of twenty-six, had it all. In her book deals she pushed hard to get the best for her clients, but that was a literary agent’s job and to do less would be unforgivable. Exactly why she’d been so successful so early she had no idea. A combination of luck and hard work, probably.

  The trouble was that she knew she was lucky, she knew she was successful and she also knew, with painful clarity, that she did not ‘have it all’. Something was missing from her life, yet try as she might she couldn’t think what it was.

  She’d been going out with Ben, an advertising copywriter, for four years and they lived in a pretty little mews house in Chelsea which she’d had decorated exactly as she had wanted. Ben was very easy-going and since her taste was for clean uncluttered lines and neutral calm colours she assumed that he didn’t feel he had any reason to complain. He had a nice home to come back to at the end of the day, and during the course of the four years they’d settled into a comfortable and mutually satisfying sex life. Not that it played quite such a large part in their lives as it used to, she thought to herself, but then after four years that was probably the same for all couples.

  Her phone rang and she picked it up, grateful for the interruption. It was surprising, but thinking about her sex life with Ben was slightly depressing and this realisation was something she didn’t particularly want to face right now.

  ‘Kristina? Hi, it’s Lucretia here. Have you got a few minutes to spare, only I’m stuck.’

  Kristina’s fingers tightened round the telephone receiver. Lucretia was one of her biggest earners. She produced steamy pot-boilers at the rate of two a year and they sold in massive quantities all over the world, but she was also difficult. The moment her fingers ground to a halt over her keyboard she’d be on the phone to Kristina, wailing about writer’s block and certain that she’d never be on the best-seller list again. After half an hour or so of chat she’d go back to her computer, ego soothed, self-confidence boosted, and churn out another chapter for her adoring public, leaving Kristina drained and exhausted in her place.

  ‘Sure, Lucretia, you know I’m always here for you,’ said Kristina in her most reassuring voice, then she stared out of her office window as the usual stream of complaints came down the line. Murmuring, ‘Of course you can,’ and ‘But you know how they all adore you,’ at regular intervals she allowed her thoughts to wander.

  If she really ‘had it all’, she thought, then she’d be happy. Why did she wake up each morning feeling slightly irritated and then have to force herself to go into the office? Once, she’d greeted every new morning with enthusiasm, eager for the kill, as The Pubishing News would put it. But she still loved her work, and thrived on the rush of adrenalin that a fiercely contested book auction could give her. So what was the problem?

  ‘Do you think that would work, Kristina?’ asked Lucretia plaintively.

  Guiltily Kristina realised that she had no idea what her client was talking about. ‘Of course it will, Cretia,’ she said warmly. ‘You must trust your instincts. In the end you know you’re always right. Your sales should tell you that!’

  ‘You’re an absolute angel,’ gushed Lucretia. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ll get straight back to work, and you’ll get first mention in my list of acknowledgements, I promise you.’

  ‘There’s no need for that!’ laughed Kristina, knowing full well that she wouldn’t because this was a promise regularly delivered and never kept. ‘It’s my job to give you advice.’

  ‘Not just a job I hope,’ retorted Lucretia. ‘I think of you as my better half, my fountain of wisdom.’

  ‘Well, that’s very kind but quite untrue. You do it all yourself and you know it, but if I do help in any way then I’m very pleased. I must go now, my other phone’s ringing. Talk to you soon.’

  With great relief she replaced the receiver. Sometimes when she was talking to Lucretia she wondered how on earth the woman managed to sell so well. She certainly used better words in her novels than in her speech, when ghastly clichés fell from her lips like rain from a cloud.

  ‘Stop it!’ said Kristina out loud. ‘You’re being rude and unkind for no reason at all. It isn’t her fault you’re in a bad mood. She’s a nice woman who works hard and deserves the money she earns.’

  ‘Who is?’ asked Kristina’s assistant, walking into the room with coffee for her boss.

  ‘Lucretia Forrest.’

  Sue laughed. ‘No one deserves that much money! Are you all right?’ she added. ‘You look a bit tired.’

  ‘I’m fine, well, health-wise I’m fine. I don’t know, Sue, sometimes I wonder what it’s all about. Do you get days like that?’

  Sue, who was nineteen and had been with Kristina for two years, shook her head. ‘Not really; life’s fun. I love my job and I love David. Right now there isn’t much more I could ask for. Don’t forget to ring Claire Webster’s publisher about that jacket for her new book. She’s rung me twice already today to see if you’ve managed to persuade them it’s tacky rather than eye-catching.’

  ‘Sure, I’d forgotten but I’ll get on to it now. And thanks, Sue.’

  ‘For what?’

  Kristina smiled. ‘For pointing me in the right direction.’r />
  Sue looked surprised. ‘It’s what I’m here for, and I know that book jackets aren’t high on your list of priorities.’

  After her assistant had gone, Kristina swivelled her chair round and stared out over London. She hadn’t been talking about the book jackets, but there was no way she’d ever let Sue know that. No, what she’d been talking about was that Sue had made her face up to one rather unpleasant fact. She was used to Ben; they had a comfortable life together and were at ease with each other but there was no way she could put her hand on her heart and say, as Sue had just done, that she loved him. ‘Did I ever?’ she wondered aloud, reaching for the phone.

  After that, as she began to crisply point out to the publisher of Claire’s latest book that the jacket would probably decrease sales by about 25 per cent, and then moved on through a typically hectic day, she had no more time to consider her moment of truth, but it was temporarily shelved rather than permanently discarded. After all, it explained why she hadn’t, as the articles claimed, got it all.

  When she got back to the mews house at seven that evening Ben was already home. He’d changed into jeans and a polo-neck top and was cooking a stir-fry in the wok. Normally she’d have been relieved that she didn’t have to cook, but this evening she felt a surge of irritation at the sight of him happily engaged in such a domestic chore.

  ‘It was my turn to cook tonight,’ she pointed out as she hung up her beige cashmere coat.

  Ben nodded. ‘I know, but as I got in early and you were late there didn’t seem any point in waiting.’

  ‘I bought some fresh pasta on my way back. I also spent ages choosing ingredients for the sauce and …’

  ‘We’ll have that tomorrow,’ retorted Ben. ‘What’s the matter? Bad day at work?’

  ‘We can’t have it tomorrow: we’re going out to dinner with Jacqueline and William, remember?’ said Kristina crossly.

  ‘Okay then, chuck the pasta away. It’s no big deal is it? Why are we going out with them? Is it a birthday or a promotion?’

  ‘Neither as far as I know,’ confessed Kristina, wishing she hadn’t snapped at Ben when he was only trying to be helpful. After all, women across the country were screaming for a New Man to split the domestic chores fifty–fifty and pull their weight as equal partners, so why should she complain when she’d got one? Because it isn’t what I want, said a small voice in her ear.

  ‘What’s it for?’ persisted Ben, taking out pre-heated plates from the oven and serving the food quickly and efficiently.

  ‘I’ve got a feeling they may be going to announce their engagement,’ said Kristina. ‘Not that Jackie said anything to me, but she sounded pretty pleased with herself over the phone and they have been living together for five years now. Marriage seems the logical step.’

  ‘It certainly does,’ said Ben, giving her a meaningful look.

  ‘I’m surprised though,’ said Kristina quickly. ‘I wouldn’t have expected it because Jackie’s always been like me, very against marriage. Like we always say, why mess with something that works?’

  ‘I’m not so sure about that any more,’ said Ben.

  ‘Open the wine,’ said Kristina quickly. ‘This is a delicious meal, Ben. That’s probably why I snapped at you when I got in. I know you’re a better cook than I am!’ Ben smiled complacently and didn’t deny it. Illogically, this annoyed Kristina. He was a better cook than her, but he didn’t have to agree quite so readily.

  Later that evening, as Kristina sat reading an unsolicited manuscript that one of her outside readers had said showed flair and originality, Ben came and sat down next to her on the sofa.

  ‘Tiring day?’ he asked.

  She knew what that meant. ‘No, not particularly,’ she replied.

  ‘Well, how about an early night anyway?’ he suggested, kissing her on the side of her neck. He always kissed the side of her neck when he wanted to make love to her.

  She put the manuscript to one side. ‘Sounds like a good idea.’

  Ben immediately put out his hands to help her to her feet. Kristina looked up at him. ‘Why don’t we do it here?’

  ‘The sofa’s not very comfortable; I prefer the bed,’ he protested. ‘It’s different for you, you’re not six feet tall.

  She’d known he wouldn’t agree, but just for once she wanted something different, something more exciting than their routine couplings that had recently begun to leave her feeling dissatisfied. ‘In the bathroom then? On the new carpet! There’s plenty of room there.’

  ‘We’ve got a perfectly good bed,’ protested Ben.

  ‘I want to do it in the bathroom,’ insisted Kristina.

  ‘Okay then,’ agreed Ben reluctantly. Kristina had known that he’d give in this time.

  Once in the warm bathroom she quickly began to undress him, pulling down the zip on his jeans then easing them over his hips and down to his ankles. Carefully she eased his erection free of his Y-fronts and taking it in her mouth sucked gently on it as her hands ran up and down his legs. He sighed with pleasure and his hands rested on her shoulders, the fingers straying up her neck and into her hair in soft, caressing movements.

  When he was fully erect and rock-hard Kristina slowly began to peel off her own clothes, and when she was naked she pressed her breasts against his chest and rotated her upper body so that her nipples grew hard against the hairs on his chest.

  Ben reached for her, his hands going round her bottom as he pulled her hips against him and they sank slowly to the floor. Ben lay beneath Kristina, which was the way she preferred it, and as she knelt above him, letting the tip of his penis brush against her pubic hair, his eyes widened with excitement and he tried to pull her down quickly on to him.

  ‘Not yet,’ she said sharply, and to her disappointment Ben, as usual, obeyed her. She didn’t know why she was disappointed. They both knew that she liked to be in control, and were equally turned on by this, but suddenly she wanted him to break out of the roles they’d adopted. She wanted him to grab her and force her down on to his erection, then grip her hips and move her swiftly and urgently up and down until they both came together in a shattering explosion.

  It didn’t happen. As usual she teased and tantalised him, lowering herself sufficiently for the tip of his straining erection to enter her warm, moist vagina and then lifting herself up again. She changed position and spread herself along the length of him, rubbing up and down against his naked body so that her clitoris was stimulated by the underside of his glans and in the process she nearly made him come too soon, but still he didn’t try and stop her or take the initiative.

  ‘Do you want me to suck your nipples?’ he murmured, and once more Kristina felt an illogical surge of irritation. Surely he didn’t have to ask after all this time, she thought. He knew her body inside out, knew exactly what she did and didn’t like, so why ask?

  ‘Yes,’ she muttered through gritted teeth, and when his mouth closed greedily about the small pale pink peaks the familiar surge of pleasure washed over her as her climax began to build.

  Ben’s hands were playing with the cheeks of her bottom, squeezing and stroking them before he managed to slip one hand upwards beneath her and now it was his fingers that were stimulating her clitoris and she gave a tiny cry of excitement as the tight hot feeling grew deep within her.

  When she knew she was on the brink of her orgasm she lifted herself up and then lowered herself down on to his by now painfully hard penis, and as the pleasure mounted she threw her head back and rode him without any thought at all for his needs and desires. All she was concentrating on was the steady build-up of pressure that was tightening her belly and drawing her insides into a hard little knot that she knew would only be released at the moment of climax.

  ‘I can’t keep going much longer,’ groaned Ben, his face contorted with effort.

  ‘Wait just a moment,’ Kristina implored him, and then at last she was there and the wonderful rushing heat suffused her whole body. She cried out with satisfaction and
within seconds Ben was crying out too as he writhed beneath her, his orgasm all the more intense because of the amount of self-control he’d had to exercise.

  ‘There,’ he said with a smile. ‘That was good wasn’t it?’

  Kristina rolled off him and on to the soft carpet, feeling its deep wool pile caress her still tingling flesh. ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘It was great.’ But it hadn’t been. Unlike the manuscript it had all lacked flair and originality. The trouble was, Kristina had the feeling that she had only herself to blame.

  The following evening it was Ben’s turn to get back late. By the time he arrived, Kristina had already tried on and discarded three outfits for the evening and was frantically going through her wardrobe for something that fitted her mood. Black with a veil might be appropriate, she thought to herself with a wry smile.

  ‘Have I time for a shower?’ asked Ben, coming up behind her and resting his hands on each side of her bare waist.

  ‘As long as you’re quick. Don’t do that, Ben, I’m trying to think.’

  ‘Let me distract you,’ he murmured, nuzzling the nape of her neck.

  Kristina felt like screaming at him. ‘Please, Ben, hurry up and shower. If this is an engagement announcement we mustn’t be late.’

  ‘It’s your fault,’ retorted Ben, sounding quite put out for him. ‘You stand around half-naked and then expect me to ignore the fact. I’m only human, you know.’

  ‘I didn’t realise I was that irresistible,’ she quipped, once again regretting the way she’d been snapping at him over the last few days.

  ‘You are to me,’ he assured her as he stripped off his clothes and made his way to the shower. Kristina wondered what other men would think.

  Standing in front of the full-length mirror she studied herself critically. She was definitely striking, she knew that, but more by virtue of the fact that she had such an unusual combination of hair and skin colouring than because of any outstanding individual features. Her hair was very dark and naturally curly. Without any effort on her part it looked sexily tousled and casual, but her eyes beneath equally dark brows were a startling deep blue and her skin was incredibly pale, like the finest porcelain.

 
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