48 Hours

by Callista Arman

  Shit. Had he moved too far into the light? He faded back, wedging himself between the shrubbery and the house.

  Gently, Montevale removed Maddie’s purse from her hands. She shifted her gaze from the bushes and looked up at her companion. The Dom’s head dipped, his lips brushing Maddie’s ear, murmuring something Patrick couldn’t hear. Maddie’s eyes widened.

  Her empty hands twisted together. Rafael spoke again. She stared at him and even at a distance, Patrick could see the apprehension in her eyes. She flicked the tiniest of glances toward his hiding place, then her fingers went to the hem of her dress.

  Slowly, she drew it up over her hips. Her breasts. Her head. The pink fabric slid down her arm and landed in a puddle at her feet.

  Patrick sagged against the rough stone of the mansion’s façade, his knees suddenly weak. Maddie stood all but naked on the flagstones, her breasts swaying, the nipple rings he’d glimpsed in the restaurant shining dully in the moonlight. His cock went so hard he thought it might snap off.

  A silver thong caressed her mound, no doubt equipped with a remote-controlled vibrating feature. He could see wisps of dark hair around the edges of the shiny front panel. Her thighs and ass were firm. Her thigh-high black stockings and pink stilettos made her legs look like they went on forever.

  Montevale murmured something Patrick couldn’t hear. Maddie bent and retrieved the dress, then straightened and handed it to the Italian. He took it, but didn’t move. “The thong, too,” he said.

  Somehow, Patrick’s cock got even harder.

  Maddie sent another glance Patrick’s way. Her hands hesitated on the thong straps.

  Go on. Do it. Strip for me, too.

  Slipping her fingers under the straps on the thong, she worked it slowly over her stockings, grabbing Montevale’s arm for support as she stepped out of it. Montevale took the garment and set it with Maddie’s dress on a stone bench near the door. Then he left her standing alone while he retrieved some items from his car. Patrick strained to see what they were.

  Cuffs.

  Leather and silver wrist and ankle cuffs, with rings and slide fasteners attached. Montvale snicked on the wrist cuffs first, then knelt at Maddie’s feet and fastened the ankle cuffs.

  “You’ll wear these during our time together,” he said. “Only I have the key.” He studied her. “Do you like them?”

  Maddie’s voice was breathless. “Yes.”

  Patrick nearly groaned.

  “Good.” Montevale circled behind Maddie and drew her arms together. With a deft movement, the Dom fastened her wrist cuffs behind her back, forcing her shoulders back and her breasts forward.

  Shoot me now. I’ll die a happy man.

  He was ready to explode. His hand went to his cock, stroking the head through his trousers. Maddie stood on the porch, moonlight bathing her body, her hands bound, her long hair streaming over her naked shoulders. She was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.

  Montevale moved to the door, his back to Patrick as he drew his keys from his pocket. Maddie’s gaze flicked again to Patrick’s hiding place. But this time, Patrick didn’t shrink away. He wanted her to know he was there, feasting his eyes on her naked body. He moved into the edge of the light.

  Their eyes locked. Hers flamed with something that looked like a cross between embarrassment and panic. What did she feel, standing helpless while he looked his fill? Anger? Humiliation? Arousal? Patrick would’ve given damn near anything to know.

  The key turned in the lock. The door to the mansion swung open. Montevale retrieved Maddie’s belongings from the bench. With a wave of his hand, he indicated she should precede him into the house.

  They disappeared inside.

  * * * * *

  Rafael’s foyer was circular, with an ornate stair curving along the far wall. A crystal chandelier hung overhead. The floor was marble and polished to such a gleam that Maddie could see her reflection on it, even in the dim light.

  Maddie half expected a butler to appear, but to her great relief, no one came. She rolled her shoulders. Her wrist cuffs were snug, the metal and leather cool and rough on her skin. She tested her bonds. They were tight. There was no way she’d be able to get free on her own.

  The thought sent an overwhelming wave of helplessness through her. At the same time, her body’s hot juices trickled down her thigh. It hardly made sense, but there it was. This was what she fantasized about during so many lonely nights. Now her fantasy was coming true.

  She could feel Rafael’s eyes on her. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze. Only after she saw a flash of amusement in his eyes did she remember that during the drive from the restaurant he’d instructed her to keep her eyes cast downward unless he commanded otherwise.

  He raised his brows. “You don’t take orders well, do you, Madeline?”

  “No,” she murmured.

  “We’ll have to work on that.” He placed one hand on the back of her head, tilting it toward his feet. “Eyes down.” This time his voice held just the hint of a threat.

  She obeyed, a delicious thrill of pleasure and fear spiking through her. She kept her head down, but watched him from under her lashes. He was a handsome man, and a strong one. His chest and shoulders filled out his linen jacket. His stomach was flat and toned. Her gaze drifted to his crotch. A huge bulge strained the fabric of his pants. She smiled to herself. Despite his cool exterior, he wasn’t unaffected by her.

  “Do not move.”

  He disappeared down one of the shadowed corridors leading from the foyer. Maddie held herself still, wondering how long he would leave her standing there, naked, balancing precariously on heels much higher than what she was accustomed to. She felt off balance, both physically and emotionally.

  She thought of Patrick, lurking outside the door. Heat flooded her face. He’d watched as she stripped off her clothes. What had he thought of her body? For some reason, she wanted very much to know. Her back was to the door—was he eyeing her ass now, through the narrow side windows? She toyed with the idea of turning around to see if she could catch a glimpse of him, but didn’t dare, for fear Rafael would return and see her disobeying his order.

  Outside, the summer night had been warm and humid. Here in the cavernous expanse of Rafael’s foyer, the air was cool on Maddie’s skin. She shivered, wishing she could run her hands up and down her arms to generate a little warmth. With her wrists locked behind her back, all she could do was wait.

  Rafael returned, carrying a small wooden box. He placed it on the floor behind her, where she couldn’t see it. She heard the creak of hinges, then the clink of a chain.

  His arms encircled her torso from behind, fastening a silver chain around her waist. He connected two shorter chains to the front of the waist chain, drawing them between her legs before fastening the free ends at the back of the waist chain. The lengths were tight between her legs, framing her clit, nestling in her pussy, then snaking along her ass cheeks.

  He came around to stand in front of her, attaching a third, more delicate chain to her nipple rings, linking them together. She stared down at her breasts as he tugged on the chain, pulling her nipples taut.

  “Look at me, Madeline.”

  She raised her head.

  His dark eyes were unreadable. “You are lovely in chains.”

  He produced one more. About six feet long, it had a sliding hook at one end and a leather loop on the other. A leash, she realized with a rise of heated humiliation. As if she were a dog. She opened her mouth to protest.

  “Madeline.” Rafael’s disapproval was clear. “Remember your place.”

  Her gaze snapped back to his face. “I’m sorry.”

  “And talking out of turn, as well.” Belatedly, Maddie remembered he had lectured her on that as well. He shook his head. “Such infractions may seem minor, but I can’t let them go unnoticed. You understand that, don’t you?”

  “What will you—” She snapped her mouth closed. “I mean—yes. Yes, I do know that.”

&n
bsp; He cocked a brow, waiting.

  She knew what he wanted—it was another in the long list of rules he’d detailed on the drive to his home. “Yes…Master.” It was the first time she’d said the word and it came out in a whisper. She felt humbled addressing him that way. Mortified. But she kept her eyes trained on his face, since he’d not given her permission to look away.

  He stepped closer and snapped the leash onto the front of her collar. He gave an experimental tug, forcing her head forward. With a pleased smile, he wrapped the leading end around his hand, then turned and started walking.

  She had no choice but to follow, chains clinking delicately as she walked. He led her toward the same hallway he’d traveled earlier. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as she crossed the vast foyer, then silenced as she stepped into the thick Oriental runner in the hall.

  Crystal sconces lit the passageway. The walls were covered with dark-patterned wallpaper, on which hung original oil paintings. The subjects were mythological, scenes featuring Zeus in the act of seducing some of his many lovers.

  At the end of the hallway stood a pair of wooden paneled doors. Rafael opened one, leading Maddie through it to a library lined with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. There was even an upper gallery, reached by a rolling ladder. The focus of the room was a huge fireplace surrounded by an ornate marble mantelpiece. A couch and a pair of chairs were grouped before the hearth. A huge antique globe on a wooden stand was positioned to one side, next to a long table adorned with a crystal decanter and a collection of glassware.

  Maddie took a surreptitious look behind her. An antique desk made of dark, gleaming wood held neat piles of bills and papers. Rafael’s study was a very masculine room, with the exception of one small detail—a gilded jewelry box occupied one corner of his desk. It was clearly a woman’s possession, very ornate and delicate.

  Did a woman live in this house? With Rafael? The notion disturbed Maddie. She should have asked before agreeing to spend time with him. She wanted to ask now, but she bit back the question. She already had too many infractions on her record. She couldn’t afford another.

  Rafael led her to the fireplace, then let the leash drop as he knelt at the hearth. Despite the warmth of the summer night, logs and kindling were in place. He had but to strike a match to start the fire. Maddie watched the fire grow, flames licking along the small twigs and enveloping the logs. It soon expanded to a snapping blaze.

  Rafael rose. He turned toward a low table at the end of the sofa. Maddie’s pink dress and purse lay there—Rafael must have left them there when he’d retrieved her chains. He picked up both items, fingering them for a moment as he watched the flames in the fireplace rise. Then, with a swift movement of his wrist, he tossed Maddie’s dress and purse into the fire.

  Maddie gasped her outrage. “What the hell did you do that for?” The no-speaking-until-spoken-to rule be damned! This was too much. She twisted her shackles, trying to tear her arms free. It did no good. She was bound and her possessions were burning. All she could do was watch.

  Rafael didn’t seem fazed by her outburst. “Another lesson, Madeline. You must let go of everything of your life outside these walls during the time we are together here.”

  Maddie stared at the fire. Her pretty dress was ashes, her purse an ugly lump. Money, credit card, driver’s license, makeup—all ruined. As they melted into the flames, she felt a surge of anger and another of humiliation.

  Once those dark feelings peaked and faded, she became aware of another emotion. It was a lighter, happier feeling.

  “Freedom,” Rafael said softly. “Freedom is what you feel.”

  She blinked up at him. Freedom. That was it exactly. Somehow, the burning dress and purse made her feel lighter. “How…how did you know?”

  “You are a woman tied by too many responsibilities. It’s only natural that you long for freedom. For some women—not all, but some—that freedom is best found in bondage. In submission.”

  He settled his large frame into the wide armchair by the hearth, motioning for her to stand in front of him. “Look at me, Madeline.” She did.

  He held her eyes captive with his as he unfastened first his belt, then his pants.

  He’d not given her permission to take her gaze from his face, but oh, how Maddie wanted to! She wanted to see his cock. She managed not to sneak a glance, but it was hard work. At the edge of her vision she saw his penis spring free. It was large and thick—bigger than any cock she’d ever seen.

  He stroked his shaft, spreading his legs wide as he did so. “Kneel before me, Madeline. Take my cock in your mouth.”

  She obeyed awkwardly. With her wrists bound behind her and the height of her heels, she wobbled as she lowered herself to the thick carpet. Rafael didn’t act the gentleman and help her, as she thought he might have. He just sat impassively, stroking his thick cock, watching her.

  She positioned herself between his splayed legs. The armchair was low to the ground—without her arms to provide leverage, leaning forward was a precarious act. Her loose hair swept into her face, making the task even more difficult. She shook her head, trying to shake the strands back.

  Rafael gathered the heavy locks, coiling it into a rope and wrapping it around one hand. He didn’t give her any slack as she lowered her lips toward his cock. Her scalp tingled with the tension. She reached the end of his makeshift tether when her lips were less than a half-inch from the wide head of his penis. She stopped and licked her lips, not sure what he wanted from her.

  “Go on,” he said. His voice was thick.

  She drew a breath and dipped her head. He let her move. Her lips slid over his head, her tongue swirled around its ridge. She wiggled her tongue into the slit, tasting a drop of pre-cum.

  Abruptly, he released her. She lost her balance and pitched forward. Rafael’s thick cock went deep into her mouth, touching the back of her throat. Though she tried desperately not to, she couldn’t stop herself from gagging.

  His fingers tangled in her hair again, lifting her head, allowing her to catch her breath. Then he guided her back, lifting his hips as he thrust even deeper. She gagged again.

  “Relax, piccolina,” he murmured. “Let go. Let me do the work.”

  She realized her muscles were tense. Her stiff neck resisted his hands, her closed throat rejected his cock. With an effort, she willed herself to relax, give her body over to him.

  She let herself fall against him, trusting him to catch her. He did. The sensation was curious. She still felt off balance, but somehow, at the same time, safe. His thick shaft slid between her lips, tickling the top of her mouth and the back of her throat.

  He fucked her mouth. He was gentle at first, but after a few moments, the urgency of his movements increased. His grip on her hair tightened. He controlled the movement of her head. The tip of his cock slammed the back of her throat, over and over again, his thick shaft massaged her lips. The wiry nest of his pubic hair brushed against her upper lip and nose. His scent surrounded her—musk and arousal and pure, raw, male power. All she could do was submit. She opened her mouth wide, relaxing her throat the best she could, ignoring the urge to gag.

  He used her hard. Maybe she should have felt shamed by it, but she didn’t. There was something exquisitely erotic about being taken this way, bound and helpless, with no function other than to give a man pleasure. No way to hold herself upright but through the strength of his arms. She relished it. She responded the best she could, working Rafael’s shaft with her teeth and tongue. She wanted him to explode. Wanted him to break.

  To her disappointment, he withdrew before she could find that satisfaction. He yanked his cock from her mouth and pressed her forehead to his knees. She bit back a cry of protest. His breath was harsh and fast—that was a consolation, at least. She’d moved him. She was sure of it.

  Carefully, he set her back on her knees, then stood. He avoided touching her with his body as he stepped away from the armchair. His movements were jerky, almost angry. Sudden
fear stabbed her. Had she done something wrong? Had she displeased him in some way?

  He stood over her. She tilted her head all the way back to look at him. His expression was grim, almost painful. When he moved toward his desk, her eyes followed instinctively.

  He zipped up his pants, then stood and braced one arm on the desktop, as if suddenly weary. His free hand touched the ornate jewelry box she’d noticed earlier. Stroked its surface gently. Again she wondered why the box was there. Who did it belong to? What did it hold?

  His hand rested upon the box. She thought he might open it, but he didn’t. After a moment he straightened and turned back to her. Without speaking, he strode to a far corner of the room and retrieved a large padded ottoman. He placed it on the floor beside her.

  Lifting Maddie from her position on her knees, he placed her facedown on the cushioned stool, her upper chest resting on the far edge of the ottoman. His hand pushed down on her nape, urging her head toward the floor. Maddie felt her forehead brush the carpet, sending a rush of dizziness through her. Rafael’s hands slid between her legs, parting and straightening them. He positioned her feet, still encased in her stilettos, on the floor.

  The position was beyond awkward. With her hands bound so tightly behind her, she couldn’t use her arms for leverage. She doubted if she could rise on her own—the most she could have managed was a graceless roll to one side. If she dared move, which she didn’t.

  Her ass was in the air, naked and vulnerable. As if to increase her feeling of helplessness, he gathered her leash in his hand and wrapped the trailing end around one leg of the footstool, effectively anchoring her head on the floor. With her neck immobile, her head inverted, her legs splayed too wide and her arms tied behind her back, she was well and truly powerless.

  She heard him move away, heard a drawer open and close. Then the heat of his body returned, blending with the heat of the fire. She felt him behind her, between her legs.