48 Hours

by Callista Arman

  He played with her ass cheeks, separating the twin chains nestled there and slipping his fingers between them.

  “Have you ever been fucked in the ass, Madeline?”

  “No,” she choked out. Her voice was muffled by the ottoman.

  “Have you ever fantasized about it?”

  “Y…yes.”

  His finger circled her hole. “Did you like being stretched in the restaurant?” He worked one finger into her ass.

  “Yes,” she said on a gasp.

  “Good.” He removed his finger from her hole. It soon returned, this time smeared with cool lubricant. He slid one finger, then two, into her tight opening, pushing forward until she felt his knuckles pass her sphincter.

  She gasped at the invasion. It burned. Hurt. He rotated his fingers, reminding her she was at his mercy. She wiggled her hips, trying subtly to encourage him to pull out.

  He didn’t. Instead, he inserted a third finger. A moan tore from her throat. It hurt, yes, but on another level, it felt good. Was she nuts to like something like this?

  “I’m going to fuck your virgin ass, Madeline. Oh, not right now, but definitely before our time together is finished.” He flexed his fingers—hard. “What do you think of that?”

  That giant cock, in her tight hole? She whimpered. “Please. No. No. I’m afraid.” When he flexed his knuckles again, she added, “Master.”

  “‘No’ is not a word for submissives,” Rafael said, flexing again. “As for being afraid…do you trust me, Madeline?”

  Her hesitation in answering was answer enough. His fingers slowly withdrew, leaving her empty. It was what she had wanted, but somehow it made her feel worse.

  “All relationships, even ones as short-lived as two days, require trust.” He paused. “Do you trust anyone, Madeline? Anyone at all?”

  Sudden tears stung her eyes. Was there anyone she could rely on? Anyone she could run to when she was in trouble? “No,” she whispered.

  “Ah. I thought not. And yet you came to my club, seeking a Master. You agreed to give me your body. You yearn for something you do not understand.”

  “Yes,” she said in a small voice.

  Rafael’s warm palm came to rest on her ass. “Trust is paramount, Madeline. It is easier for the body than the mind to give up control. That is why, if your body learns to trust, your mind and soul will follow.”

  He moved away. She heard the rustling noise of a package being opened. Then he was back, spreading her ass cheeks again, smearing them with more lubricant.

  A blunt object pressed against her opening.

  She tensed, trying to squeeze her ass cheeks together.

  The pressure withdrew. An instant later, Rafael’s palm came down on her ass cheek, hard and stinging.

  The pain took her by surprise. She yelped and bucked away, nearly gagging when the movement jerked her collar tight. Another swat, on her other ass cheek. She twisted her body, trying to make eye contact with Rafael. But the leash securing her collar kept her from turning her head far enough.

  “What did you do that for?” she gasped out.

  His hand came down again. Tears jumped into her eyes.

  “Stop. Please,” Maddie begged.

  A fourth smack. “Be silent, or you will wear a gag.”

  She clamped her lips shut just as another stinging blow fell. Her hips jerked. Heat and pain spread in waves over her ass, but she managed not to make a sound. She braced herself for another blow.

  It didn’t come. Instead, Rafael began stroking her back, as if she were a favorite pet. “Good girl. Now. Obey me. Let your body go soft. Put your trust in me, Madeline. I know you’ve never trusted anyone before, but I swear to you, if you give me that gift, I will not abuse it.”

  He continued stroking, continued crooning. Tears escaped Maddie’s eyes. Rafael was right. Trust didn’t come easily for her. As a woman in a man’s profession, she knew better than to show any weakness. Over the last few years the shield she’d erected for herself had extended to her family, her friendships, her love life. All her relationships were shallow. Wary. There wasn’t time for anything else.

  She had particular difficulty trusting the men she dated. Her father had been distant and unemotional, and she’d never had a lover teach her that men could be otherwise. Was this why sex had always been so unfulfilling?

  Guilt speared through her. She’d promised Rafael her trust, just for two days, but had she truly come through for him? So far he’d heard mostly protests from her, even though he’d gifted her with the most spectacular orgasm of her life. He deserved better than to face her doubt.

  So she tried to give him what he demanded of her. She lay still, limp, her limbs weighted, determined to accept whatever he chose to mete out to her. When the blunt pressure invaded her anus again, she didn’t resist.

  “Very good,” he murmured as he slipped the object a little farther inside.

  Maddie fought every instinct that told her to tense her muscles. Instead, she relaxed, giving herself over completely. To Rafael. To her Master.

  “This is a butt plug,” he said, easing the thing even farther inside her. It was far wider than the vibrating ball on the thong, wider than Rafael’s three fingers had been. “You will wear it at all times, except when you use the rest room. It will prepare you for my cock.”

  She gasped a little as the widest part of the plug slid past her sphincter. It kept advancing, filling her completely. Finally, when she wondered if she could take any more, a barrier settled in the cleft of her ass, preventing the plug from slipping in farther. Rafael withdrew, silent, leaving her with a few moments to get used to the sensation. Though she wondered if she ever could.

  He returned and unwound Maddie’s leash from the ottoman leg. Grasping the chain encircling her waist, he hoisted her to her feet. The chains between her legs rubbed together, pinching her clit. She moaned at the streak of desire that speared her. Rafael set her on her feet, but didn’t move to steady her. She teetered, wondering if she would fall. With her arms bound, she wouldn’t be able to break her fall.

  Somehow, she regained her balance, her ass cheeks flexing around the unfamiliar plug. She was facing a bank of tall windows. The drapes of one were partly open, the glass behind reflecting the light in the room. But even so, she caught the flicker of movement on the other side.

  Patrick.

  She’d almost forgotten him. Had he been watching at that window the entire time she’d been here? If he had, he’d seen a beautiful view of everything Rafael had demanded of her. Mortification choked her. Bad enough that good-natured, geeky Patrick McIllhenny had seen her come in public and strip down naked on Rafael’s front porch. Now he’d seen her bound with chains and cuffs, led by a leash, fucked in the mouth. Inverted and tied like an animal. He’d watched her ass breached by a butt plug.

  How would she ever be able to face him when this was over?

  With a tug on the leash, Rafael led her out of the library, retracing their steps back to the entry foyer. She followed as if in a daze. The plug moved in her ass as he led her up the curved staircase and down a long hallway. He came to a halt before a heavy wooden door, richly and intricately carved. A turn of the ornate knob and the portal swung open.

  She stumbled into a large, dim room, lit only by the moon streaming through its tall windows. She made out the shape of a large four-poster bed, a dresser, a walk-in wardrobe. A fireplace flanked by table and chairs. Two more doors, leading, she supposed, to other rooms. In the center of the room there was a raised circular platform. It looked like a stage.

  “Welcome,” Rafael said softly. “To my guest room.”

  Chapter Five

  Fuck. They’d gone upstairs. Patrick couldn’t see a damn thing.

  Of course, if he watched any more, his cock would explode. He’d seen enough to fuel his fantasies for a lifetime. What a turn-on it’d been, seeing Maddie kneel between Montevale’s legs with her hands bound behind her. He’d cursed the high sides of the armcha
ir—the Dom had been working her mouth hard but Patrick hadn’t been able to glimpse all the action. His imagination had filled in the missed details quite nicely, though. Maddie’s bound hands hadn’t given her much leverage. She kept falling forward, hard. Montevale must’ve crammed every inch of his cock down her throat.

  And then he’d spanked her and plugged her luscious ass.

  Jealousy exploded Patrick’s stomach even as his cock throbbed with arousal. He bit off a groan as he paced Montevale’s well-manicured lawn—the estate grounds were like a fucking golf course fairway. The urge to kick a divot in it was strong. But he didn’t. He had to figure a way to get to Maddie.

  He’d watched through the narrow windows next to the front door as they’d ascended the stairs. He thought they’d turned to the right at the top. He rounded that side of the house, scanning the second-floor windows for a hint of movement.

  There. A light flicked on, illuminating the third and fourth windows from the front corner of the house. The next window, still dark, was actually a door of sorts, fronted by a small balcony. Well, not a true balcony, but a European-style mini-balcony about a foot wide with a wrought iron railing. It was just large enough for a person to squeeze onto.

  A one-story glass conservatory jutted from the house just below the lit windows. If Patrick could climb onto the sloping roof and shimmy along one of the mullions, could he reach the main house and pull himself onto the second-story balcony?

  Maybe. If he didn’t fall and break his neck first.

  His raging hard-on abated, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He wasn’t an out of shape slob—he did stop in at the company gym at least once a week. But he was in no way an athlete. He was much more comfortable staring at a computer screen than scaling buildings. What if he lost his grip while trying to climb Montevale’s house like a deranged monkey? He could wind up with a broken neck.

  He let out a long breath and pressed the heel of his hand to his forehead. His brain was throbbing as painfully as his cock was. Maddie didn’t want him here, she’d made that clear enough at the restaurant. Maybe he should give it up. Go home and come back on Sunday night, just to make sure she got home all right. It was what any sane man would do.

  He looked toward the woods where he’d hidden his car. He willed himself to move, but somehow, his legs just wouldn’t obey.

  He couldn’t leave.

  He told himself his main concern was Maddie’s safety. He was just making sure she hadn’t gotten herself into something she couldn’t handle. Even if Montevale was a high-profile business owner, Patrick couldn’t be sure the man wouldn’t push his little D/s game further than Maddie wanted to go. If Patrick couldn’t find it in himself to abandon Maddie to Montevale’s designs, it had nothing to do with how turned on Patrick had been watching the Don adorn her with chains.

  Yeah, right.

  He eyed the trellis on the side of the sunroom. He’d climb it, then make his way across the glass roof, keeping his weight on the mullions. When he reached the wall below the balcony, he’d reach up as high as he could and grab the wrought iron rail. From there he’d drag himself onto the balcony, break open any lock there might be on the door and slip into the house. It was breaking and entering, but right now he didn’t give a crap about that.

  He swallowed hard. If he slipped, or set off an alarm, or if by some miracle he managed to get into the house only to have Montevale catch him lurking in a dark corner…

  Hell, what did it matter?

  He didn’t have a choice. Because there was no fucking way he was leaving Maddie alone with that guy.

  * * * * *

  Maddie blinked against the sudden brightness in Rafael’s “guest room”. The illumination came from a quartet of crystal ceiling fixtures. Light fell in fragments, forming overlapping puddles of brilliance on the plush indigo carpet.

  The chamber was large and high-ceilinged. A pair of closed French doors were on the left. In the main room of the suite, white paneling stretched from floor to a waist-high molding. Yellow and blue wallpaper, hung with watercolor landscapes, decorated the upper portion of the walls. Two tall windows were hung with sheer curtains and topped with draped valences.

  In the daylight, the room would appear airy and bright. It was a far cry from the Medieval dungeon-like setting she’d imagined for a bondage chamber. She’d half expected Rafael to lead her down rough-hewn steps to a cellar lit with torches. But then, she shouldn’t have been surprised that Rafael hadn’t recreated a D/s cliché in his home. She sensed he was a man who followed his own rules.

  The only area in the room that appeared anything but normal was the raised platform. Two steps led up to the circular stage, which was floored with gleaming hardwood. She could make out two small trap doors in the smooth surface. The ceiling above the stage was etched with another, larger access panel.

  Rafael moved toward a shallow cabinet mounted on the wall. He opened it and studied the contents for a moment, his brows drawing together in a slight frown. Maddie wondered at that, but since she couldn’t see inside the cabinet from where she stood, she tried to put her curiosity out of her mind. Rafael looked a moment more, pushed a few buttons. Then he raised his head and studied her, his gaze thoughtful.

  “Interesting,” he murmured, more to himself than Maddie.

  He moved closer, to the edge of the stage. He was holding something that looked like a remote control. He pressed a button and the trap doors on the stage slid open. Something slid from below the floor and locked into place. Maddie blinked. Two eyehooks had appeared, about three feet apart. A short length of chain was bolted to each hook.

  Rafael watched her, his lips twitching as he pressed a second button. The access panel in the ceiling slid open. A whir of machinery, then a metal bar, about three feet long, descended. About two feet of chain dangled from each end.

  Oh, God. The sight of the chains hit her like a tsunami. This wasn’t a fantasy. It was real. Rafael intended to stretch her out on with those chains and do…what? Again, the twin sensations of fear and excitement warmed her pussy.

  “Look at me, Madeline.”

  She did.

  “Come to me.”

  She advanced with hesitant footsteps. But to her relief—and maybe her disappointment as well—Rafael didn’t lead her to the stage. Instead, he guided her to the large antique wardrobe she’d noticed earlier. Inserting an old-fashioned skeleton key in the lock, he opened the mirrored doors.

  Maddie struggled to contain her gasp. The wardrobe contained an assortment of paddles, whips and floggers, chains, masks and dildos. And a few other items she couldn’t begin to identify. Was that a ball gag? A gag with a dildo attached? A corset? A leather harness?

  Heart pounding, she twisted her hands behind her back. A spurt of real fear choked her. These were instruments of torture, not pleasure! Would Rafael use them on her? What had she gotten herself into? She looked up to find him watching her with an intent expression. His lips flattened slightly when she met his gaze.

  Oh, God. He hadn’t told her to look at him! She was supposed to keep her gaze averted. She dropped it now, too late, aghast at her mistake. What if he decided to punish her with one of those paddles?

  “Are you afraid, Madeline?” His voice was soft and all the more terrifying because of it. “Wondering what will come next? Wondering which of these devices I will choose to use on you?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “That is good. Fear can greatly enhance pleasure.”

  He was right, she realized with a start. She was terrified, but somehow her thighs were soaked with her own juices. An empty ache filled her pussy. She shifted, wanting him. She wanted his thick cock inside her.

  She wanted anything he gave her.

  He closed the wardrobe. “Soon, cara, we will explore my collection together. But now…” He moved behind her.

  He unclipped her leash and set it aside. She was surprised to feel him unfasten her wrists as well. They’d begun to g
o a little numb. He seemed to know this—he took her hands in his and rubbed gently. Tingling pain spread as the blood rushed back to her fingers.

  He circled in front of her, massaging her arms. She looked down at his large hands, moving on her so tenderly. After a moment, he stepped away. Eyes downcast, she watched him from beneath her lashes. He shed his jacket and placed it carefully over the back of a nearby chair. Then he rolled his sleeves back with careful precision. A dusting of dark hair showed on his forearms.

  The sight kicked up the yearning in Maddie’s gut. What did Rafael look like fully naked? His body, what she could see of it, was magnificent, and her aching jaw and lips were a reminder of the size of his cock. He was like some Roman god, strong and sure and virile. She wanted to feast her eyes on him, see all of his body as he could see all of hers.

  Yet it wasn’t her place to ask for that.

  “Remove your shoes,” he said. “And your stockings.”

  She did as she was told, very glad to be rid of the uncomfortable stilettos at last. She rolled her silk thigh-highs down her legs and let them fall to the floor. She was naked, left wearing only Rafael’s chains and nipple rings. The butt plug shifted in her ass.

  He moved toward the bed. “Climb into the center of the mattress, cara. Lay on your back, arms and legs spread.”

  She obeyed quickly. The bedspread was satin brocade—slippery and rough at the same time. The fabric slithered and scraped on her bare back and buttocks as she shifted herself to the center of the wide surface.

  Rafael appeared at the foot of the bed. Long velvet ropes dangled from his fingers—had he removed them from the wardrobe? She’d been so busy obeying his command that she hadn’t noticed. He caught her right calf and pulled it toward one corner of the bed. With deft movements, he looped a rope through the ring on her ankle cuff, knotting the velvet snugly. Stretching her taut, he secured the other end of the rope around the closest bedpost.

  He tied her other ankle, then moved to the head of the bed and secured her wrists one by one. When he was done, Maddie lay completely vulnerable, stretched wide in four directions. She tugged on her soft shackles and found them extremely tight. She couldn’t move her arms or her legs together by so much as an inch. She could wriggle her ass a bit, but all the movement served to do was anchor the butt plug more securely.