Conquering Sabrina
Page 8
Sabrina murmured goodbye and found herself being guided towards the edge of the kerb where they were due to meet the car. They didn’t speak until they were inside and the car pulled away to join the throng of traffic heading down the Champs Elysees.
“You were going to leave, weren’t you?” Raoul challenged the moment the car drove away. “I thought I had settled that argument with you. I could see you weighing up an escape plan. You thought you could disappear into the crowd? If you’d tried, I would have hunted you down, Sabrina. There is no escape from me.”
“Huh. I’m surprised you noticed with all of that touching going on. Are you sure you really want me hanging around? Am I not in the way? Were you surprised to see her? It must have been so irritating for you. I mean, she could have stayed out of the way until you told her it was safe,” she almost spat the words.
He ignored her questions, shaking his head with frustrated anger.
“Why didn’t you tell me you remembered Cressida? I thought I asked you to tell me about the memories you retrieved.”
He was annoyed, formal in his speech.
“What’s the matter? Are you concerned whether or not I remember that you two were having an affair and still are by the looks of it?”
She heard herself hiss the words and was surprised at the anger and hurt she felt so strongly.
Raoul smiled.
“So you are beginning to remember our life together more and more?”
“Yeah, and obviously the reason I chose to forget it. Maybe we should divorce,” she challenged with irritation in a throwaway comment.
Raoul narrowed his gorgeous black eyes to a sharp point. He gave her a dark possessive look, sending shivers along her spine. Fear pumped through her veins, but she could not deny the primitive animal arousal he ignited her within her body with that one simple expression. For a brief moment she wanted him to make her take the words back, to spank her to her senses and claim her there and then in the back of the car and damn who saw them. She needed him to prove he loved her again, prove he wanted her above all others, above Cressida Williams and her hurtful attempts to steal him away. To reassure her she was all he’d ever wanted with the sharp slap of his firm hand on her bare bottom. To calm and soothe her with his sharp discipline.
Raoul shouted at the driver in French and within minutes the car was pulling off the road and down a small narrow country lane. Raoul undid his seatbelt the second the car came to a halt in a small car park for walkers nestled in the trees. He moved along the wide seat of the Mercedes towards her. Afraid and more than a little frustrated by events, Sabrina opened the car door and got out. Surprisingly undeterred by the dark or the small wood stretching out in front of her, Sabrina walked on, fuelled by a mixture of fear at Raoul and at herself for wanting to capitulate to his demands for rule in their marriage. She was vaguely aware of Raoul talking to the driver and then she heard quick marching male footsteps behind her.
Sabrina ignored him and quickened her pace. She wasn’t thinking straight and she knew it. Where the hell was she going to go? All she wanted was to have a few moments to herself to think. But Raoul was to match her pace as she walked into the wood determined on losing him. Maybe she could find somewhere to ring the police and get some help to go home back to London. It was a crazy thought. She couldn’t just run away from this. Her mind was racing and splintering with broken memories. Exasperated, she stopped dead, putting her hands to her head and turned to shout at Raoul.
“Don’t you ever give up? Just let me go.”
Raoul caught her arms.
“No. I can’t. I will never give up on us. I told you that night at the ball. We love each other. There has never been anyone else for me. I am not letting you just walk out of my life and disappear again.”
“You are lying to me. I saw the way you were with Cressida. I am not stupid. If I wanted a divorce all those years ago, I had my reasons. I don’t make snap decisions. I would have had all of my fact straights.”
“Yes, just like the lawyer you always were. You always had to be right,” Raoul sneered.
She gave him a surprised indignant glare that he would dare to even question her integrity.
“You had me convicted and sentenced before you even heard my side of the story. I was always guilty whenever any woman took any notice of me.” He gave her a shake as snow began to fall heavily around them. “All because you believed you weren’t worthy of me or my love. You never thought you were good enough for me,” he told her in a tone laden with disbelief and confusion. Frustrated, he caught hold of her face and held it tightly. “Look at me,” he shouted.
Sabrina’s eyes jumped to attention and stared into his pained eyes. “Tell me, Sabrina, what the hell do I have to do to make you believe I love you? There never has and never will be anyone good enough or worthy enough for me than you.”
Tears sprang into Sabrina’s eyes. His angry words about her character struck an unwelcome chord. A familiar fear of insecurity twisted her insides. It was confirmation of all that he spoke. God knows she wanted to believe him, but she was so afraid of the way her safe comfortable life was being pulled apart and dissected. Until she knew what was going on, she would remain guarded.
He seemed to read her thoughts in her eyes. He nodded and cursed. He let go of her face, but tightened his grip on her arm.
“I see. This… this distrust of me is not going to end any time soon,” he said with contempt. He took a deep breath. “Well, I guess I am just going to have to keep working on you until that cruel memory of yours decides to come back to its senses,” he said with distaste.
Raoul pulled her across the ground towards him until her face was mere inches from his. Sabrina’s heart pounded in her chest as he bent his head, unsure if he was about to kiss her or issue another hurtful jibe. He studied her lips, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. Sabrina felt her body begin to shake, not sure if it was with the cold snow falling damply onto her face, or the potent mix of desire and fear she felt for Raoul when he was close.
“You trusted me enough before when you let me touch you, Sabrina. I know you still love me. I can feel it. It’s brimming underneath all of that deception you cower under. It’s time you woke up to yourself.”
“I am not a bloody coward,” Sabrina snapped, desperately trying to move his arm. “Maybe you should realise that you can’t get away with your deception. Wake up. This fantasy marriage you go on about never existed anywhere but in your head. Go back to Cressida. It’s over.”
Raoul’s eyes swirled with anger.
“You are pushing me, Sabrina. None of this is over. Deal with it and stop running.”
“Pushing you like the night of the ball…?”
“I told you not to question me on this again. I never hurt you. Now go back to the car,” he demanded.
Sabrina shrugged his arm off and glanced around her. Raoul was watching her every move. There was no way she would get out of the wood without him stopping her.
“There is nowhere to run, Sabrina. You have to face what is happening. No more running.”
Still she stared, her mind frantically working on a means of escape.
“Sabrina, don’t try it. Even if you made it to Paris, I would have you picked up by the police the moment you got there. If you regain your memory and you still want to leave, then we will talk about a divorce.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you are stuck with me. Call it an incentive. Get your memory back, prove me innocent, lawyer, and uncover your love for me that’s sleeping inside your subconscious. I know it’s there. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. Then we can pick up where we left off and move on from this damn nightmare,” he urged.
Sabrina stared. Her mind buzzed with a hundred different thoughts. Once again she considered escape. Raoul shook his head and caught her arm again.
“Sabrina, start walking back to the car or so help me I will carry you there,” he ordered, making her jump.
“No, I won’t. I’ve had enough. I am doing this on my own—” she stopped abruptly, staring at him as he hurriedly loosened his tie and removed it. She watched him flex the silk in his hands and walk towards her. She backed away. “What are you going to do?” Her tone was frightened.
“If you refuse to allow me to protect you, then I am going to have to force you to accept the situation,” he told her with cold authority. “In short, darling, I am going to treat you like the prisoner you believe yourself to be. Perhaps then you will understand I will not be disobeyed. I refuse to allow that man who took you from me to harm you again. I will do whatever is necessary to keep you safe whether you like it or not. He is stalking you again and I will not take any more chances. When you first came here, I told you I would tie you down if I had to stop you leaving. And I believe the time has come for me to be more stern with you, cherie.”
He caught both her hands in a tight vise-like grip and wound the silk tie securely around her wrists. Aghast, she pulled and tugged at the bindings, but they were far too tight to wriggle out of.
“How can you do this to me? I thought you loved me.”
“I am doing this because I love you.”
Without further hesitation, Raoul dipped his tall muscled frame and pulled her over his shoulder. He carried her back to the car, but did not deposit her in it. The chauffeur stood outside of the door patiently waiting their return. He held a smooth wooden implement in his hand. The scene before him evoked no emotion, not even amusement as Raoul carried her kicking and screaming, just as he had promised.
“Now, my darling wife, I believe it is time you received a firmer lesson in obedience. Your bottom is very pink from your previous spankings, but I cannot wait any longer to discipline you again. You must learn my rule over your safety. Perhaps, a sore crimson-coloured bottom from a harsh bare-buttock paddling will finally tame you and put your doubts of my love to rest. I have been too lenient in your discipline for your own good after what has happened to you, but now I must act when your life is at stake again. A little public punishment will help you succumb to my rules.”
“You’re mad,” she screamed.
“Hush. Pierre, do you have my paddle ready?”
The young good-looking chauffeur stepped forward eagerly, brandishing the punishing smooth wooden paddle.
“Yes, sir, just as you requested.”
Sabrina felt herself lowered to the ground. She stared at the paddle with horror as Raoul bent and stretched her bound body over the warm bonnet face down. She felt him quickly lift her coat and dress, bunching them around her waist, exposing her covered bottom to Pierre and the snowy elements. Icy air blasted across her body as gentle snowflakes settled on her fragile pale skin. Tears gathered in Sabrina’s eyes. He had to still love her if he was willing to discipline her so publicly. Every word he’d spoken was correct. She’d never believed herself worthy of his love and it was the real reason she didn’t believe him about Cressida. It was time to stop doubting, to become who she really was to herself and to Raoul. Whether she dared to admit it or not, she craved the security of Raoul’s strong discipline and domination. Shameful though she felt, she remembered her need for its soothing reassurance and her willing submission.
She groaned when she heard him curse in French at the silk underwear adorning her bottom and her rebellion for hiding a pair back when the maid had come to take her underwear away and burn them. The ripping sound of it being removed was becoming familiar.
“You have earned yourself an extra strike for wearing panties, Sabrina,” he snapped.
Sabrina felt Raoul’s cool hands on her hips as he shifted her into a perfect position for her punishment. Instructing Pierre to hold her tied arms down at the front, his fingers skimmed the tops of the sexy lace holdups, then lifted her buttocks in his hands as if to test the fleshy weight. He gave them a tight squeeze, making Sabrina grimace from the lingering soreness caused by her previous punishments.
“Mmmm, Sabrina, the little extra weight to your curves makes me crave you all the more,” he told her seductively. “Do you not believe it does her justice, Pierre?”
There was a pause and a shadow over the bonnet of the car, telling Sabrina Pierre had moved to study her bottom closely. She squirmed, feeling her cheeks blush hotly with embarrassment.
“Yes, it serves her very well. I envy you, sir. A hard paddling will enhance her bottom with a healthy crimson shade.”
“I agree.”
Raoul gave a small laugh as he took hold of her hips to halt her movement and hold her in place.
“Pierre is excellent with the paddle. I have learnt much from watching him in action.”
Sabrina gave a sudden gasp, hearing the paddle swish through the air unexpectedly and thwack her bottom hard. Tears sprang from her eyes at her humiliation in front of Pierre as the second and third came thick and fast, giving her no time to catch her breath. She pressed her face against the car’s bonnet to hide her blushes. She’d forgotten how adept the paddle was at silencing her verbal protests with its sensual fierceness. Pierre’s praise of Raoul’s practiced hand and the noise of the paddle both chastened and forced her into submissive acceptance of Raoul’s domination, as did the seeping wetness between her thighs. Her breasts swelled and her nipples, hard and taut, pressed painfully against her dress. On her sixth strike, the ache in her vulva was pulsing despite her anguish. She resolved to submit to Raoul and accept his authority as her protector. She voiced her reluctant resolve softly, gently, meekly.
Slowly he straightened her and turned her around. She desperately wanted him to satisfy her need. She no longer cared who watched. She wanted him strong and hard inside her. She wanted to feel his strength, feel his cock dominating and hard, riding her into submission. The satisfied curl of his lips told her he would not disappoint. Pierre walked away as Raoul sat her on the bonnet of the car. She cried out, feeling the pain on her bottom sting reminding her sharply of the lesson she had just learned.
Raoul watched her wetness streak the sleek black metallic paint with approval. The heat of the car engine stirred her need. She moved restlessly, feeling her clit scrape the metallic surface, coaxing her pleasure. For the first time in a long time, Sabrina felt wanton and ready for passionate sex. Throwing caution to the wind in a sexual encounter had never happened in the last ten years. Yet this man was provoking feelings and reactions in her she had never dreamt possible of giving her such pleasure.
No words were spoken. Raoul simply unzipped his trousers and splayed his hands around her buttocks cooling in the winter air. He thrust strongly into her to the hilt. She leaned back and gave a satisfied sigh. He stood for a moment, silently, patiently waiting inside of her, allowing her to feel his cock’s dominance and mastery just like before, then rammed inside her fast and strong, unable to contain himself any further. She placed her tied hands around his neck and held on as he firmly fucked her into submission, making Sabrina feel truly conquered by her husband.
“I’ve invited some people for the weekend and they will arrive this evening,” Raoul told Sabrina in the car as they travelled home. Her hands were now untied. Although her bottom was sore, her cheeks bore a healthy glow of satisfaction. Raoul was holding her hand, smoothing the pad of his thumb over her knuckles in a loving protective gesture. Sabrina felt more relaxed than she had ever done. A growing need to be close to Raoul had taken root and was breaking down the wall of the defences she had erected to stop him getting inside. He was winning her back and she could do nothing but surrender willingly.
“Don’t worry, these people are very close to you,” Raoul continued. “Your best friend Maxine is dying to see you. That’s who I was on the phone to this morning. She didn’t believe you were back. You are both like sisters. I didn’t want to tell you straightaway, especially this morning when you seemed so distressed.”
Sabrina felt uneasy at the prospect of meeting more people who she called strangers. But she looked up at Raoul.
“I�
��m ok. I will deal with it,” she reluctantly assured him.
She turned away and pretended to preoccupied with watching the French countryside. She didn’t want to talk anymore. She felt tired, satiated. It seemed to creep up on her like it had done the night before. She closed her eyes and allowed the motion of the car to lull her into a gentle sleep as she wondered what her guests would be like.
* * *
Sabrina woke just before the car made its descent along the narrow road that led to the chateau. She found a blanket tucked around her body.
“Did you have a good sleep?” Raoul asked gently.
“Yes, broken with dreams or memories. I can’t seem to tell the difference these days.”
She glanced out of the window.
“The chateau is so beautiful in the snow. Why do we live there?” she asked sleepily. “I would have thought we would have lived in the centre of Paris for work.”
“We do, correction, did, during the week. Since you left I have spent more and more time in the chateau. I always felt close to you in the house.” He paused and continued on a lighter note. “We have a few properties,” he said. “One in London as well. I bought the chateau for your wedding present. It’s your home, Sabrina.”
“What? You’re joking, right?”
“No, I am perfectly serious. Your passion was history. What better wedding gift to give you? It seems even more appropriate now.”
She laughed, putting her hand to her mouth in shock.
He grinned. There was relief in his eyes every time she smiled.
“I wanted you to see the chateau first because it’s where we spent most of our time together. We lived there every weekend when we didn’t go away.”
“This has to be a dream,” she laughed again.
Francine greeted them at the door.
“Marie-Claire is running a bath for Madame Valoire. As soon as Madame is finished taking a bath, the massage therapist you asked to come will be waiting. Monsieur Valoire, your guests are on the way. All the rooms are ready. Oh, and your business acquaintance is waiting for you in your study.”