“The wind blows through every crack in the place.” I remembered the few times I’d spent winter here. “The fireplaces roar and you huddle around them. In the night, you slip a hot water bottle between the sheets to keep you warm.”
“Couldn’t you use some of your millions to fix it up?”
I looked at her with amusement. “What would be the point of that? It’s part of the place’s charm.”
She laughed. “You are the strangest billionaire I’ve ever met, Alexander,” she remarked.
“Have you met many?” I was joking, until I noticed that her expression had gone flat. What was she hiding?
“No, of course not,” she replied. She tossed me an arched look from under her eyelashes. “Are they that easy to find?”
She was acting. Perhaps she was thinking about her former master. The money would explain why she’d stayed long enough for him to scar her as deeply as he had done. But my explanation didn’t ring true. She didn’t seem materialistic to me. The clothes had made her uncomfortable, the jewelry even more so.
I was missing something obvious. Some piece of the puzzle that would make her behaviour make sense. I filed the snippet away in the back of my brain, putting it with all the other little pieces that didn’t quite add up.
I will figure you out, Jenny, I vowed. I will find out what you are hiding.
***
I still showed her the barn.
“This is where I tied up my first girl,” I said.
“So you did bring someone here,” she pointed out.
I shook my head. “I was seventeen. This was my aunt’s house then, and Angela never spent the night.”
“Where did you tie her up?” She looked around and spotted the central support pillar. “Ah, here?” Her voice was teasing.
My lips curved into a smile. I had no idea why I was uncovering a memory that had, up to this instant, always been marred by what had come after. “Want to find out?”
She laughed, a bright, merry sound. “Reliving your youth, Alexander?” She moved to the pillar, her back in contact with the weathered wood. “What should I do, Sir?”
She was wearing a halter neck pink dress that made her look like a tasty bit of candy. I untied the knot at the back of the neck and the fabric dropped to her waist. She wasn’t wearing a bra; her beautiful breasts were bare, the pretty pink nipples a perfect match to the fabric. Desire flooded my senses.
“Your nipples are already erect, cherie,” I whispered in her ear, hearing the ragged edge in my voice. I heard her sharp inhale of breath, saw the pulse beat at her neck. “Your body is begging me for this.”
She bit her lip, her eyes staying downcast.
I was having none of that. Looking into her eyes was akin to drowning in a green sea, yet never had a man walked to his death with more willingness than I did. My fingers reached out and tipped her chin up. “Look at me, not the floor.”
“Yes Sir,” she exhaled. “I’m sorry.”
I was intent on getting her out of her dress. “Get naked, cherie.”
Her hands reached behind her back to unzip the dress and the movement raised her breasts up. I lowered my mouth instantly, capturing those morsels between my lips. Again, she groaned. “You aren’t making it easy for me to follow directions,” she gritted out. Her legs shifted restlessly; she jutted her hips towards me.
I grinned. “I never promised I would.” I waited for her dress to drop to the ground before I pushed her panties down her hips. I leaned close to voice an order in her ear. “I want you to keep quiet. Do you want a gag, or will you be good?”
Her eyes were bright with anticipation. There were ghosts of memories in this barn and her reaction - the excitement, arousal and lust that was radiating from her – was exactly what I needed to finally lay these ghosts to rest. “I’ll be good, Sir.”
I held her panties in front of her. “One moan, one whimper, one cry, and I will gag you.” I leaned forward to kiss her. “Okay, cherie?”
“Yes Sir,” she whispered.
I moved her wrists behind her back, wrapping them around the pillar. “Can you keep them there?”
She nodded. She could just about link her fingers together. “Yes Sir,” she said sweetly.
Each time she gave willing consent, I let go a little bit of my past, of that terrible day and its aftermath. “Part your legs,” I said.
She obediently shuffled them apart. She stood there, naked, holding her hands obediently around the pillar. I could see each inhale and exhale of breath, each tremor that ran through her. Tiny little goose bumps rose on her skin as I watched and I smiled. “Nervous, ma petite?”
She shook her head. I unbuckled my belt and pulled it free, doubling it and swinging it in the air. “Still not nervous?”
“Should I be, Sir?” she asked me bravely. “I’m not afraid of you.”
My heart thudded in my chest as she uttered those words. I kissed her lips, teasing her erect nipples with the leather strap until she whimpered softly into my mouth. “No noise,” I warned. “I’ll be right back.” She nodded and I headed to the bedroom to retrieve the toys I’d brought - a flogger, some rope, a buttplug and more.
I had to wonder if there was a small part of me that had always realized I needed to come back to this barn to try and overwrite the memories of that day from the past. The farmhouse had been renovated, but perhaps that was the reason I’d done nothing to clean up the barn. There was still the old wooden table in the corner that could serve as a makeshift bed. Ropes could still be hung from the rafters from the ceiling, so I could immobilize Jenny and bring her to repeated gasping pleasure.
Gathering the toys, I made my way back to Jenny, who was still standing where I left her, back pressed to the pillar, arms locked behind it. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep and even. Her nipples were erect and her legs parted. A shaft of sunlight bathed her skin. She looked radiant.
I cleared my throat and her eyes flew open. “Did I startle you?”
“A little, Sir,” she admitted. “I didn’t hear you come in. I was enjoying the warmth.”
I deposited the armful of toys next to her. “Hard or soft today?” I asked her. She was similar to me in that she didn’t need the same thing all the time. Some days, she seemed to need pain to drive out her demons. Other days, she craved kisses and gentleness and warmth.
Whatever her heart’s desire was, I wanted to give it to her.
She considered my question, then she smiled. “Is medium an acceptable answer?” she asked. “I want to feel it, but I don’t want marks for the rest of the trip.”
“Okay. Anything else?”
“Surprise me, Sir,” she shot back cheekily. “I’m sure you can think of something.”
I laughed aloud and took her panties out of my pocket. “I did warn you to be good,” I told her. “Open up.”
She parted her lips obediently and I bunched the panties into a ball and pushed them into her mouth. Her eyes remained untroubled, and waves of lust still rolled off her. She was perfect.
I reached for a riding crop, teasing her nipples with the leather tip. Her breath caught audibly and she tried to push herself against it, rubbing her nub against the edge. “Stay still,” I said sharply. “Do you think you are in charge here?” I smacked the top of her breast with the crop, smiling slightly as I heard her hiss of pleasure.
A spot of red bloomed at the point of contact. Everything in her body screamed out for more and I was happy to oblige.
My palm closed over her soft breast, relishing her gasp as my fingers tweaked at her bud. “You like that?” I asked her as I soothed the spot that I’d cropped. My mouth followed, kissing away her pain.
In her chest, her heart beat like a trapped butterfly. But she was free to leave whenever she wanted. She wasn’t tied down – yet.
She made no move to leave. Through the gag, she made little moans of pleasure, moans that grew louder as the crop replaced my mouth. Steady strokes followed – firmer on h
er breast, softer on her nipple. Just the one breast for now.
I wasn’t hitting her hard. Her skin grew pink and then a faint red, but these marks would fade in a few hours, exactly as she’d requested. These taps were meant to turn her on, not to punish her - and they were working. I could smell her arousal, I could feel her need.
My cock ached. “Patience,” I said aloud. I was reminding myself as much as I was talking to her, and she knew it. Her eyes twinkled with amusement and I chuckled. “Yes, cherie, I have to hold myself back. But it’s for a good cause.”
She inclined her hips towards me, clearly urging me to abandon control and just fuck her. My lips twitched. Her impatience matched mine, her need just as great. But waiting would make it better for both of us.
I moved the crop to her other breast, tapping her until that globe pinkened as well. Her chest was rising and falling, her legs moving restlessly as she writhed with pleasure.
***
Ellie / Jenny:
I couldn’t understand why I’d ever been afraid of him.
He moved behind me with the crop. I resisted the urge to turn and watch him, and my patience was rewarded as his hands encircled me from behind. His fingers roamed over my naked body, tweaking my nipples and squeezing my breasts. Each touch made me gasp, the noise a muffled sound through my gag.
Sharp spikes of lust shot from the spots where his fingers met my flesh, radiating outward all through my body. Each tug of his finger pulled at something lower, as if there was an invisible line connecting my nipples and my clitoris. Heat pooled in me, need and want and longing all wrapped up in his touch, in the way he sounded, in the way he moved, in the way he controlled me.
My body felt heavy. My thoughts receded and my world narrowed to this. To his calloused fingers pinching my dusky-red nipples. To the slight coarseness of the wooden pillar against which I leaned.
His mouth dipped to the spot where my shoulder met my neck and he nipped. My knees almost buckled in response to that touch. It didn’t seem possible that my body could feel so much and so deeply. “Alexander,” I groaned through the gag.
“Sir,” he corrected. His voice sounded amused. “I would have thought the crop would have made it obvious that we were in a session.”
“Sir,” I exhaled. Sir in a session, Alexander outside a session. He’d said that to me in Bangkok and when I got it wrong, he’d set me in front of a mirror and had watched me masturbate until I came, shaking like a leaf, combusting with the force of my orgasm. At that moment, I should have known that in these games of dominance and submission, I could trust him completely.
The other secrets he kept? For the moment, everything else seemed far away.
I wanted to sob with frustrated, painful need. If he didn’t move his hands lower, if he didn’t slide a finger between my folds, I would combust. Like a short-lived meteor, I would burn up and die.
“So impatient,” he rebuked. “Do you know that each gasp only makes me want to hear the next one, ma petite? Each moan makes me slow down so I can hear you cry out. I want you calling out my name. Begging me to let you come.”
Oh, I was ready to beg. It wasn’t the gag in my mouth that kept me quiet. I’d surrendered control to Alexander. If my Dominant wanted me to come, he would let me. If he wanted me to wait, I would wait.
The more control I gave him, the more pleasure he would make sure I had. I had absorbed this lesson in my weeks as Alexander’s submissive and this knowledge filled me with a strange security.
I could jump and I wouldn’t fall. Alexander would catch me.
Alexander looked around the barn and his lips curved into a wicked grin. He inclined his head towards the table in the corner. It was waist-high and sturdy-looking. “Come, Jenny,” he said. He took off his shirt quickly and set it down on the dusty surface, then patted the spot. “Sit.”
His hands curled around my waist and hoisted me up and I squealed a little at the unexpected touch. A warmth bloomed in my heart that had nothing to do with the fire smouldering in my pussy. When he carried me, I felt safe and protected. I wanted to lean my head against his strong shoulder and rest there for a while.
I also was very, very aroused by the way he’d played with my breasts. I told myself sternly to focus on the lust. It was safer.
“What are you thinking about, Jenny?” His voice was so polite. Too polite. Dangerously so. Damn it, he had noticed my moment of distraction.
I gulped. “I’m sorry,” I tried to say through the gag.
“Do I need to convince you to pay attention, Jenny?” he asked. His eyes flashed with an amused heat that I had grown to recognize. Crap. I’d screwed up. If I’d been hoping he’d let me come quickly, that scenario had just flown out of the window.
“Part your legs for me.” One strong hand rested on each thigh, pushing them apart. A thrill of pure lust shot through me, almost causing my body to crumple with its strength. “Are you wet, cherie? Do you like being cropped?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him. I wasn’t wet – I was a soaked, dripping mess, my signs of my arousal impossible to hide. All for him. All my lust, all my desire, every painful pinch of longing in my body was directed at him.
He saw it in my gaze. He growled and for an instant, everything went still. His fingers removed my gag and his lips ground into mine. For a frozen moment in time, there was just the feel of his mouth on mine, my breasts crushed by his chest, his hands around my neck.
I mewled helplessly when he pulled away. He shook his head with a wry grin. “You look at me with that expression again, Jenny and I’m not going to be responsible for the consequences,” he threatened.
I shot him a demure look, batting my eyelashes at him. “What expression, Sir?” I asked innocently.
He chuckled and that sound set another full-body shiver through me. His hand petted my mound and I stilled. He was so close to my clitoris. So very close. All he had to do was…
He did. One swipe of his fingers through my folds, one brief, too-short, fleeting graze over my clitoris, and even that small touch set me gasping in pleasure and aching for more.
“Hands on the table,” he ordered. I placed them behind me, leaning back slightly, my palms in contact with the warm wood and the silky cotton of his shirt.
“So very good,” he said. As reward, his fingers traced another path through my pussy and teased my clitoris once more. I bit my lip and threw back my head.
“What should I do with you now, I wonder?” he mused out loud before climbing on the table behind me. I felt his hands steady me as he positioned himself so my back was leaning against his chest and his thighs were on either side of mine. “Good, lean back into me.”
I bit back a sigh of pleasure as my bare skin came into contact with his chest, then gasped as he spanked my pussy firmly. The hot sting only seemed to inflame the fires of passion already blazing in me. Again, I thought silently, but I didn’t dare voice the sentiment. Alexander had teased me for what felt like hours. I wanted permission to climax.
“Do you want to come?” he growled into my ear, as if he could read my mind.
“Yes,” I almost sobbed out.
His lips kissed my neck with soothing warmth. “You can orgasm,” he said generously, “whenever you want. I want to feel your beautiful body wriggle against mine.” He followed his words with another stinging slap to my pussy.
I moaned as he proceeded to torment me with agonizing sweetness. Hot spanks alternated with soft touches of my lips, rough thrusts of his fingers contrasted with an almost delicate pressure against my clitoris. And everything brought me closer and closer to orgasm. My entire body clenched tight, and my thighs started to close, but he was having none of it. His ankles locked around mine, holding me open. “Don’t you dare,” he warned. “Embrace it.”
“Sir,” I sobbed. I didn’t know why I was begging or what I was pleading for. All I knew was that I was soaring, flying higher and higher, filled to the brim with pleasure. Small quivers were ru
nning through my entire body. My thighs alternately clenched and released, but locked in his grip, they couldn’t close shut. I was going to explode. Shatter into a million little pieces.
His fingers focused now on my clitoris, urging me closer to breaking point. My fingers dug into his thighs and my nails scratched his skin.
“I’m coming,” I hissed as I shattered in a thunderclap of sound and colour and obliterating sensation.
He held me close as I slowly recovered, moving me to his lap and putting his arms around me. I stayed there for a few minutes, the sweat cooling on my skin until I shivered. He kissed me. “Want to keep going, Jenny?” he asked. “Or do you want to stop? I can run a bath for you, if you’d like?”
A bath sounded amazing. But I also wanted to keep going. Besides, he hadn’t come. I could feel his hard throbbing erection against my thigh. I wanted him. In my pussy, in my mouth or my ass – wherever he wanted.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked.
He grinned. “Let me show you.” He lifted me aside and set me back down on his shirt. “Are you going to be okay by yourself for a few minutes?” he asked me. I nodded and he flashed me a warm smile. “Good. This is going to take just a little bit to set up.”
I watched as he attached a length of knotted rope about six feet long to two dangling hooks from the ceiling, forming a U-shaped swing. My suspicions about what he had planned were confirmed when he gestured to me. “Get over here, Jenny,” he said. “Give this a try.”
I swung a leg over the rope, straddling it. Alexander pulled me forward until my pussy rested against a thick knot of cotton rope. It wasn’t harsh and it wouldn’t chafe at my skin, at least, not immediately. In a few minutes of rubbing at the knot though, I was going to be at the edge of a climax once again.
He gave me an assessing look. “Kick off your shoes,” he ordered finally.
I whimpered, but obeyed. They weren’t high heels, just sandals that added an inch or two to my height but with them gone, my body sank deeper into the rope and the knot nestled into my folds. I was very, very aware of it.
Freed (Assassin's Revenge Book 3) Page 7
