by Alice Raine
‘Maybe we could use this tonight,’ he pondered with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. Seeing my startled expression, he smiled. ‘Don’t worry; it’s not possible for them to get lost inside you. I believe it’s similar to inserting a contraceptive diaphragm, you just slip a finger in to retrieve it,’ he said, looking at the egg again. Of course he would know how to use them, I thought, being the pervert that he is.
‘Would you wear it and let me keep the remote?’ he asked, assessing my reaction with a curious glance.
‘At the concert?’ I squeaked, trying to imagine just how much of a pervert I’d feel walking around with the love-egg tucked inside me all night.
‘Yes. It’s only small,’ he cajoled. ‘God, I would love knowing you had it inside you when we were out in public together. Knowing I had the control over you.’ His eyes were positively blazing now.
Ah, yes, Dominant Nicholas and his love of control. ‘I’m not sure …’ I replied hesitantly. I liked his games in the bedroom, but was I really enough of a kinkster to join in while we were out in public?
‘I wouldn’t tease you too much, Becky, I promise, just occasionally. And imagine how turned on we’ll both be when we get home,’ he added persuasively, stroking my cheek and making my skin flutter under his touch.
After chewing my lip for a second, I decided to shelve my bookshop persona for the night and go wild. Why the hell not? Besides, the remote control for the egg would probably only work when it was fairly close, wouldn’t it? So he’d only be able to use it when he was near me. ‘OK, then,’ I agreed with a shy smile and a shrug. Part of me actually quite liked letting my naughty side out, which was just as well seeing as I was dating Nicholas with all of his pervy ways.
Gently pushing me back on the bed so I was lying down, Nicholas pulled up my silky dress with ease and seductively licked his tongue around the egg. Yanking my underwear to the side, he pushed a moistened finger inside me and then grinned broadly. ‘I was going to warm you up a little first, but you appear to be more than ready, Rebecca.’ He wasn’t kidding either: all this talk of sexy stuff with Nicholas and I practically felt like I was dripping. With one more lick to the toy, he removed his eyes from mine as he concentrated on the task of inserting the love-egg. I felt the coolness of the metal against my heated skin and then the warmth of his fingers as he followed it to make sure it was in far enough.
‘How does that feel?’ he asked thickly, apparently rather aroused by his task.
‘OK. To be honest, I can’t really feel it,’ I said in surprise, giving my hips a wiggle. ‘Argh!’ Suddenly a vigorous vibration started inside me, right next to my G-spot, and I looked at Nicholas to see him holding the remote, a huge grin splitting his face.
‘Feel it now?’ he enquired silkily.
Bastard. ‘Yes,’ I panted, clutching at the duvet with scrabbling hands. ‘God, Nicholas, I can’t do this in public, it’s too much!’ I was squirming from the trembling sensations in my lower abdomen. It felt so strong; surely other people would be able to hear it, wouldn’t they?
Just as I thought I couldn’t take any more, the vibration inside me reduced to a gentle hum and was much more bearable. I shifted my pelvis from side to side and decided after several seconds that it was rather nice. Very nice, actually. Mmm, perhaps this would be fun after all …
‘How about now? This is a lower setting,’ he said, showing me the remote. I noticed it had five different levels and it was now set to the lowest one.
‘Better. Nice,’ I said, loving the alien sensation deep inside me. Then he must have switched it off because I was left feeling bereft as it stopped.
‘Oh Rebecca, we will have so much fun with this tonight.’ Nicholas dropped another heart-stopping kiss on my lips before standing up, straightening out his tailcoat. ‘Right, are you nearly ready? We need to get going, Mr Burrett’s outside with the car.’ Glancing at his watch, he looked back at me. ‘I have to warm up for half an hour before the theatre doors open to the public.’
I wondered what Nicholas would do without the multi-skilled Mr Burrett to act as butler, housekeeper, assistant, cleaner and driver.
‘Yep, let me just finish my left eye.’ Jumping up, I applied another coat of mascara to my lashes and experimentally wiggled about a bit to see if the egg was uncomfortable. To my surprise, it wasn’t; in fact, now I was standing up I could barely feel it at all. In the mirror, I saw the reflection of the cheeky smile on Nicholas’ lips and couldn’t help grinning myself. Tonight was going to be rather exciting, I decided.
Chapter Twenty-three
Front frigging row. How Nicholas had managed to get me a front-row seat to a sold-out concert when we’d only decided I was coming four hours ago was beyond me. But he had, and now I sat gazing up at the piano on the edge of the stage, wearing my beautiful new dress. I felt like a million dollars on the outside, while secretly glowing from the knowledge that I had my love-egg nestled inside me.
Thinking about it, perhaps that was why I was on the front row … Maybe Nicholas had arranged it this way on purpose, so he could use the toy on me. The piano was up high but probably only about ten feet away from my seat; would the remote control work from there? I had a sneaking suspicion that Nicholas thought it might, and I was now seriously regretting not reading the packaging to learn about operating distances.
The concert was quite a small affair – small in comparison to the one at the London Palladium that I’d attended, anyway – and was being held in a local theatre that had a large function room for the meal afterwards. Just seating myself on the plush velvet chair in the auditorium took me back to memories of the night when I’d first met Nicholas, and a shiver flowed over my skin at the thought.
To my right was the aisle but to my left were an older gentleman and his wife, Patrick and Joanna, I think, but it might have been Jemma. The orchestra had been loudly warming up when they’d introduced themselves, and after asking her name twice, I’d been too embarrassed to ask her to repeat it again.
It turned out Patrick was a major donor to several of Nicholas’ charities and had also sponsored his first two solo albums – quite an avid fan, apparently. When I told him I was Nicholas’ girlfriend, he looked openly astonished for a second or two, before quickly hiding his surprise with a warm smile. He’d been absolutely charming to me ever since, even getting me a glass of complimentary champagne. It seemed that dropping Nicholas’ name into conversation had its benefits.
I didn’t have to wait long to find out if the egg would work from ten feet away because Nicholas had zapped me as soon as he first came out onto the stage to a standing ovation. The audience’s applause had proved to be well timed because the noise covered my small yelp as the egg inside started to vibrate. He only left it on for a few seconds, and thankfully, I had regained my composure by the time I sat down.
Being Nicholas, however, his second use of the egg was a little more intense. Taking a brief break in between his final two tunes, he had caught my eye, winked, turned the toy on and then proceeded to play an entire five-and-a-half-minute, self-written piece as his finale.
Five-and-a-half frigging minutes. By the time he finished and stood to receive his rapturous applause, I was panting like a dog and must have been the colour of a ripe tomato. Grinning like a loon and flashing me a private wink, Nicholas discreetly put his hand in his pocket and ended my torture, which was just as well because I was practically melting out of my chair by that point.
After reminding the audience that the meal would be served in ten minutes, he then surprised me completely by trotting down the steps at the side of the stage, grabbing my hand, planting a wet kiss on my lips and leading us out of the theatre down the central aisle while the crowd continued to clap and cheer around us.
From the audience response, it would seem that a performer exiting via the auditorium wasn’t usual, but with my wobbly legs, it was the least of my concerns at the moment. How I could manage to walk after five-and-a-half minutes of egg
torture was beyond me, but with Nicholas half-supporting, half-dragging me, I did it.
There was rapturous applause all around and a fair few wolf whistles too, and I’m fairly sure I spotted one or two women jealously giving me the evil eye as I left with my hugely talented and exceptionally kinky boyfriend.
The meal was delicious, followed by a charity auction and a series of speeches thanking various donors and, of course, extending appreciation to Nicholas for his time and money. The auction was fun: I’d never been to one before and I even made the winning bid on one lot – a lunch cruise on the Thames with the star of tonight’s show, Nicholas. Well, I wasn’t going to let another woman win it even if it would take a hefty chunk of my savings to pay for it.
I have to say Nicholas looked absolutely thrilled by my determination not to be outbid on the cruise, and he grinned like a schoolboy as I went up to the podium to collect my prize. He might express his possessiveness in the bedroom by restraining me and licking me to within inches of my life, but I preferred to show mine in a more standard display of territorial jealousy.
Once that was done, the speeches were just getting a little monotonous for me when Nicholas decided to have a little fun of his own. I’d almost forgotten all about the toy inside me, but he must have clicked on the remote control because suddenly the little egg jumped to life once again, causing me to yelp from the unexpected sensation.
Was it too much to ask for just a little warning? Apparently so.
‘Are you OK, my dear?’ Patrick asked, turning in his seat at our table and raising his eyebrows at me. God, how embarrassing: he’d probably heard me yelp in the concert too and was no doubt forming some strange conclusions about me in his mind. Forget obsessive-compulsive disorder, I sounded like I had compulsive-yelping disorder.
‘Fine, thank you, I … trapped my finger, that’s all,’ I mumbled feebly. Patrick glanced at my hands in confusion, apparently wondering what I could have trapped it in, but smiled politely before turning back to listen to the speeches. Beside me, I could sense Nicholas laughing softly to himself, and I only just held back the urge to hit him with something.
Thank goodness our table was right in the corner and Nicholas and I were seated at the back, because he left the little egg thrumming away inside me for several minutes, reducing me to goo while everyone else’s attention was still drawn toward the stage.
‘Don’t make a sound,’ he ordered as his right hand slipped under the tablecloth. After carefully raising my long dress around my thighs, Nicholas’ fingers slid straight below the hem of it to rub softly at my groin through my already damp knickers.
‘Nicholas! No! Not here,’ I hissed, squirming in my seat and trying to move away from his exploring hand without disturbing the other people on our table.
‘Hush. Grip the table if you need to,’ he advised sagely, his fingers refusing to be dislodged from their position and his face impassive as he stared at the stage, apparently enthralled in the current speaker.
Panic briefly set in as I realised I couldn’t stop him without making a scene or standing up abruptly, but after another minute, I simply gave in to the inevitable and relaxed my muscles. Nothing would stop him when he was set on something so I simply took his advice and clutched at the table top, clenched my teeth, and tried to look calm and normal as if I were simply watching the speeches and not about to explode into an orgasm at any minute.
God, this really was bad. We were in a room full of people and Nicholas seemed to have no qualms about bringing me to climax in front of all of them. Yet another example of him in his full pervert mode.
‘Let it go, baby,’ Nicholas murmured against my ear several minutes later. My eye had started to twitch from the effort of controlling my muscles and not trying to draw attention to myself.
‘No,’ I muttered, focusing all my attention on not orgasming in a public place for the second time in one day.
‘Yes,’ he demanded, his eyes turning to mine with a heated “don’t you dare defy me” look, which was probably quite terrifying to most people. But I was getting used to these looks now and so merely stuck my tongue out at him defiantly.
In response to my provocation, Nicholas narrowed his eyes and then increased both the intensity and speed of his fingers and the little egg inside me. Shit, he must have turned it up at least two settings because suddenly I could feel my insides quivering with a building release. It was no good. Even with my best efforts to defy him, several seconds later I exploded around the egg, my body quaking, thighs tensing and my fingers practically biting through the wood of the table as I tried not to yell out loud.
Panting lightly and feeling rather dazed, I flopped back in my seat. Hopefully, the only indication of my pleasure above the tabletop would be my flushed skin but that would be undetectable in the darkened room. My eyes scanned the people closest to us but all were still concentrated on the stage; somehow, we’d got away with it.
Holy shit, had he really just done that to me in a crowded room? Yes, yes he most certainly had.
Thankfully, Nicholas must have pressed the off switch on the love-egg because it ceased its torment. But his hand stayed protectively near my groin, brushing against me, and I finally relented and rested my head against his shoulder as I pretended to watch the rest of the speeches.
‘You are so bad, Nicholas,’ I murmured quietly, almost wanting to fall asleep on him.
‘I am,’ he confirmed with a sly grin, dropping a kiss on my damp brow.
After the speeches, I excused myself to the toilet and removed the little love-egg, placing it carefully in my handbag. There was no way I was going to be able to cope with another dose of that if he suddenly got the urge to tease me some more – definitely safest removed. Smiling to myself with a blush, I decided I’d liked it, though. It had been exhilarating to know Nicholas had the remote control and it had certainly spiced up the evening’s proceedings. Perhaps we could use it again sometime.
When I got back in the hall, I saw several tables had been shifted out of the way and the dancing had begun. Wow, they really went all out for these occasions, although during the speeches they had said tonight’s event was of particular importance for the children’s home involved so maybe this was fancier than usual. Seeing Nicholas was absent, probably still in the toilets, I headed back to our table but was halted before I sat down by a hand on my elbow.
‘Rebecca! I thought it was you! How are you?’ Looking up, I saw a blast from the past. Harry Green, someone I’d known for most of my life. In fact, his parents still lived three doors up from mine in Penrith. We emailed occasionally, but it was strange how one look at Harry’s dimpled grin took me straight back to my childhood, and the long days our little gang of friends had spent fishing in the lakes or climbing trees up one of the local hills.
‘Harry! I didn’t know you lived down here now. How are you?’ I asked with a grin.
‘Really well, thanks, and you look great, Becs! I can’t believe it’s you. Would you like to dance?’ he asked, his eyes shining with pleasure.
‘No, she wouldn’t,’ a cool voice over my shoulder answered as I felt Nicholas’ possessive hand wrap around me from behind and splay protectively on my hip.
Frowning and craning my neck so I could see Nicholas’ face, I rolled my eyes at him then looked back at Harry.
‘I’d love to,’ I confirmed. ‘Just give me a minute,’ I told Harry and he stepped back, casting a slightly nervy glance at Nicholas who was now glowering at him furiously.
Turning to face Nicholas, I regarded him as sternly as possible, which, seeing as he looked positively murderous, was actually quite difficult. ‘Nicholas, that’s not just some random man asking me to dance. I went to primary school with Harry; he’s married to one of my best friends, Andrea, who is pregnant with his baby, and my parents still have lunch with his parents every month.’
I placed a hand on his chest, trying my best to ignore Nicholas’ thunderous expression. ‘I am your girlfriend, but
I am my own woman and I can make my own decisions. I am going to dance with Harry to have a catch-up chat, but that’s all it is, a dance. Don’t be mad with me.’ I stepped away and found Harry again.
Dancing with Harry, I caught glimpses of Nicholas sitting watching us, still with an expression on his face that I could only describe as somewhere between homicidal and demented. Oh dear. I was going to be in trouble later. But if Nicholas and I were going to be together, he had to know that while he might be in charge of things in the bedroom, the same didn’t apply to the rest of my life.
I consoled myself with the fact that at least it was an upbeat number so Harry and I were dancing near each other, but not actually touching, while we chatted. I suspected if Harry placed so much as one finger on me Nicholas would immediately intervene.
As the song ended, I decided I had better not push my luck any further so I wished Harry well and headed back toward Nicholas. He was still sitting at our table but his eyes were averted as he studied his mobile phone intently. Looping around behind him, I bent over and slipped my arms around his tense shoulders, nuzzling his neck and placing several kisses on his pounding pulse point. Apparently, he wasn’t as calm as he appeared outwardly.
‘Hi. Are you still angry with me?’ I murmured against the warm skin of his neck, although I didn’t need a verbal answer. I could feel his annoyance radiating from his muscles under my arms; his entire body was stiff with tension.
‘Yes,’ he replied tightly, clicking his phone shut and pocketing it.
‘Please don’t be, Nicholas. You can’t expect to control my whole life.’ I dropped another kiss on his jaw. ‘Dance with me?’ I asked, walking round in front of him smiling hopefully and extending a hand to him.
