Just like Grey: Alex Romaletti

by Jessie Cooke

  5

  Isabelle growled and opened her eyes. She didn't want to think about Darryl. She didn't want to think about any men. They were all liars, Alex Romaletti had proven that tonight. She just wished he were there now…she'd make him sorry that he'd lied to her. Okay…maybe she did want to think about a man, but only if he was getting what he deserved for lying to her. Who did he think he was? Just because he was richer than God that didn't give him the right to make a fool of her. He was the reason she was unemployed and unable to take care of herself in the first place…and then he was going to swoop in and act like he was the good guy that saved the day. She sunk down underneath the warm bubbles again and this time as she closed her eyes her fingers traced a path down the front of her body until they landed between her legs. She let them play across her slick, swollen lips until her breaths became ragged and a clear image began to take shape in her head. She slid her lips open and found her clit. She began to rub it slowly…while she pictured him. Alex Romaletti, sexy black wavy hair, jade green eyes and a body that even in a suit she was sure was sculpted like a fucking marble statue.

  She smiled as she pictured him stripping out of that expensive suit and stepping into the doorway of the closet where she'd hung the metal rings. She shuddered and rubbed her clit faster as she pictured him stretching his arms up over his head and grabbing onto the rings. Then suddenly she was there, wearing only a pair of thigh-high leather boots and a black leather bustier. Her tits were hanging out in front and her ass in the back, but in her imagination, Alex knew he couldn't touch her. She rubbed up against him as she reached up and wrapped the leather restraints around his wrists, attaching them to the metal poles. Then she took a step back and looked at him…let him look at her, before bending down and strapping his ankles to the restraints attached to the floor.

  Her toys were more plentiful and the play space larger in her imagination. The closet was a walk-in and she had room to walk around him in a slow circle. In one hand she held a thin, leather whip. She kept her eyes on his face and each time his dropped down to look at her body, she tapped him under the chin…hard. Finally, she said,

  “Do I have to cover your eyes?”

  “No, please…”

  “No? No what?”

  “No Mistress Isabelle. Please don't cover my eyes.”

  “Then keep your eyes on my face.”

  “Yes Mistress.”

  “You think you can keep them on my face and off my body?”

  “Yes.”

  “Excuse me?” She slapped the whip against her palm. It stung, and her body shivered.

  “Yes Mistress…”

  “No!” she snapped. “You think you can keep from looking at my body? You'd rather look at the floor or the wall?”

  “No. I'd like to look at your body. God, I'd love to look at it…” Tiny beads of sweat covered his upper lip and brow as he tried to explain what he meant. Isabelle watched him struggle, getting more turned on by the second. “Your body is beautiful, Mistress. But, I shouldn't look without your permission.”

  “Good boy,” she said, tracing the tip of the whip lightly down the side of his face and across his chest. “See how much better it is when you tell the truth?”

  “Yes Mistress.”

  “Now tell me, Alex, was buying me the sandwiches and inviting me out to dinner about doing a nice thing…or because you wanted to fuck me?”

  “No, it was about being nice…”

  She slapped the whip against the wall behind him and saw him flinch. “So, you didn't want to fuck me? Am I not good enough for you? I'm not fuckable?”

  “No Mistress…I mean, yes, you are…God…I'd love to fuck you…” Just imagining him saying that had her working her clit harder and faster. She could feel herself getting close…but the fantasy was too hot, she wasn't ready to quit just yet. She slowed down her ministrations of her clit as she returned to the sexy vision, “Mistress, I wouldn't dare to think I was good enough to touch a woman like you.” This time she used the whip to slap him on the ass. He cried out, but she saw his cock grow slightly. “I'm sorry Mistress…I thought you wanted the truth.”

  “I do, but you're still lying.”

  “No…” Smack! In a strained voice he said, “I'm not lying. You're so beautiful, so hot. I'm so lucky to be with you.”

  “That's right,” she said. “You are very lucky to be with me, and you better not forget it.”

  “I won't, I promise.”

  “You better not ever lie to me again.”

  “I didn't lie.”

  “Excuse me?”

  She let her long, blood-red fingernail drag across his chest. The taut skin turned red but didn't break. She leaned in close to his ear, feeling his body shake as she brushed hers into him again. “You're lying right now,” she whispered.

  “No Mistress, I…”

  She smacked him with the whip, across his right hip. “Say you're sorry,” she said. “Tell me that you'll never lie to me again.”

  “I didn't lie,” he said, defiantly. She raised her eyebrows, and then her hand. He thought she was going to slap him, so he flinched. Instead, she ran her fingernails down the side of his face, across his chest…and down to his hardening cock. She let them run all the way around his cock as it jumped and throbbed, and then she dragged her fingers with her brightly colored nails down the shaft of his cock and across his balls…not gently. He sucked in a hard breath and once he'd slowly let it out, she was already beginning to walk away. “Mistress, I did lie. I'm sorry.” She turned back around and got close to his face, so close that she could feel his ragged breaths on her lips. Sweat was rolling down the sides of his face.

  “How sorry are you?” she whispered.

  “I'm so sorry Mistress. I'll do anything to prove it to you. Please let me make it up to you.”

  “Anything?” she said, seductively.

  “Anything,” he whispered. His cock was rock-hard now and straining toward something to bury itself into, but, she was still going to make him wait. She wanted to torture him a little longer. She reached down and grabbed his cock, wrapping her hand around him tightly. He grunted, and she squeezed a little harder. His head dropped back and he let out a long moan when she finally began to stroke. His breathing sped up and his muscles tightened, and she knew he was on the verge of coming…so, she let go. He whimpered.

  “Mistress…please….”

  “Please what?”

  “Please touch me, more.”

  “Why should I touch you? You've been so bad. My pussy is a reward for good behavior. You're not a good boy.”

  “I'll be good…I promise. Please Mistress, touch me…I'll be so good.”

  She took a small step back and used her thumb and forefinger to grasp his nipple. He had his eyes locked into hers and as she began to twist it and pinch it between her fingers, she watched the lust for her burn there. She pinched harder and he let out a little cry. “Did that hurt?”

  “No,” he said, with his teeth grit together.

  “Liar,” she said, pinching it even harder. He cried out again, this time even louder. She twisted it with her left hand and reached down with her right and once again grabbed hold of his cock. He mumbled something incoherent and she let go of his cock and with her bare hand, she slapped his ass. He jerked, and she smiled, and did it again…and again…and again. Finally, she reached down and grabbed his cock again, this time letting her thumb roll around the bulbous head. Once she had her fingers wet she used that moisture to lubricate his cock. He was groaning and moving his hips. She stopped again. He groaned, again. “What's wrong?”

  “It hurts, Mistress.”

  “This?” she asked, twisting his nipple again.

  Breathlessly he said, “Yes…but I meant my cock. It hurts.”

  “Oh,” she said, running her fingers across his heavy balls. “You want to come already?”

  “Yes Mistress…please…” She dragged her fingernails up the shaft. “Please,” he whispered
again.

  “No, I don't think I want you to come just yet.” He whimpered.

  “I'm sorry Mistress. You're just so sexy. It's so hard to hold back with you.”

  “But you will, won't you? You'll hold back until I tell you it's okay to come, won't you?”

  “Yes…”

  “You're lying again.” She grabbed his cock and stroked it until she knew he was ready to explode…and then she let go again and looked at him accusingly, pointing the whip in his direction. “You were going to come.” In a strangled voice he said,

  “No…it just felt so good.” She smacked him with the whip on his ass…hard.

  “Did that feel good?”

  “No Mistress,”

  “Liar, you like it.” She smacked him again, harder.

  “Did that feel good?”

  “Yes!” he cried out. “Yes, it feels so good…”

  “Are you bad on purpose?” she asked as she ran the tip of the leather whip from underneath his chin down his chest and in a wide circle around his visibly throbbing cock. “Are you bad just so I'll punish you?”

  “Yes.”

  “You like it when I punish you?”

  “Yes.”

  She slapped his chest with the whip, right across one of his nipples. It reddened and hardened even before he got out the cry and she had already dipped her head down and suckled it into her mouth. He let out a cry of ecstasy then as she suckled on it. At first she sucked gently, but the more noise he made, the harder she sucked, eventually biting down on it, hard with her teeth. His cry of pain shot through her like a jolt of electricity that traveled through her core and into her pussy. She could feel the juices flowing down the insides of her legs as her mouth moved across to the other nipple. She was just about to bite down on that one when a voice outside of the play in her head called out,

  “Izzy! Are you here?” She sat up so quickly in the tub that water sloshed over the sides. What the hell was he doing here? How had he gotten into her apartment? “Isabelle?” his voice sounded close.

  “Do not come in here! What are you doing in my apartment?”

  “I'm sorry, I knocked but you didn't answer, and the door wasn't closed all the way…”

  “Oh shit! Theo…!”

  “Um, no, it's Alex…You forgot your phone…”

  She rolled her eyes, stood up, and started to step over the edge of the tub. She had one foot out and resting on the dry rug and that was when she realized she hadn't closed the bathroom door either. She saw Alex's stunned face and wide eyes in the mirror in front of her. He was standing in the living room…but he had a clear view, of everything all at once. She panicked and pulled her other leg over the tub…too quickly. Her foot caught on the lip on the side of the tub and she tumbled forward. The last thing she remembered before the explosion of pain when her head hit the tile, was the screeching of the cat that Alex tromped down on as he tried to catch her.

  6

  A veritable carousel of random thoughts were causing chaos in Isabelle's head. She wasn't sure if she was awake…or asleep…or maybe unconscious. She had a slight awareness of who she was, and that she'd hit her head, but it was dreamlike and when she tried to analyze the random thoughts she couldn't decide which ones were real and what was actually a dream. That feeling…like she was floating on air as the thoughts continued to swirl around in her brain, lasted for quite some time. Alex was there. He was naked…no, she was naked, he was holding Theo, or stepping on him. She heard Theo scream. What did he do to her cat? Why was he in her apartment and why was she naked? She was subtly aware of thoughts of wanting to be naked with him…or at least wanting him to be naked for her…but she was sure that hadn't happened in the way she'd hoped. She was naked. He wasn't…

  Her eyelids began to flutter, and light penetrated her weary, burning eyes. She closed them tightly and opened them again. They were heavy…her whole body felt heavy, like she was drugged. She fought through the burn and blurriness and pulled her eyes open again. It was like looking through a curtain of water, but after a few seconds, a body began to take shape above her. It was definitely a man. He had broad shoulders and wavy black hair. His back was to her, but she knew it was Alex. He'd taken off his jacket, but the expensive shirt and pants…and that tight, sexy ass gave it away. She almost smiled as she thought about how much fun it would be to smack that tight ass. Any thoughts of smiling disappeared as soon as the image of herself, naked and in the tub…and masturbating appeared in her head. She was thinking about him and rubbing her clit. She was breathing heavy, sweating in the hot water and an orgasm was building up and tightening her core. She was about to explode, and she may have even said his name…oh fuck, what if he heard her? What if she cried out his name one minute and the next he was there, and she was tripping over the tub and sprawling naked on the bathroom floor. Dear God, how much worse could she have humiliated herself? Maybe if she closed her eyes again, he'd go away and she wouldn't have to face him. She groaned at the thought of facing him…out loud, damn it! Alex spun around, and she was suddenly looking into his worried green eyes. There was no retreat now.

  “Izzy! You're awake. Thank God! Are you okay?” He was smiling, but worry lines still pulled at his eyes. They were almond shaped, and she thought about how those fine little laugh lines looked so good on him, so sexy. She was starting to get them, and they didn't look so good on her. Oh Jesus, what was she doing? This was no time to think about how sexy he was, or that maybe she needed to start using night cream. She should be running from the room screaming, looking for a place to hide.

  “Isabelle,” she said in a strained voice, in response to his use of “Izzy,” the pet name he seemed to take liberties with every chance he got. It made her feel less humiliated if she hung onto that anger. This was the man that had been the source of her troubles for months now…once again, acting like the hero.

  He chuckled and said, “Ornery as ever, I guess that answers my question.”

  Isabelle tore her eyes from his face and let them take in the room around her, suddenly realizing that she was in a strange place. Above her head she could see machines with numbers on them. There was a cuff, like the doctor used to take her blood pressure, attached to her right arm. The other arm had an IV going into it. She looked up at the pole and saw a big bag of liquid and a small one attached to it and feeding fluids into her vein. She would have immediately assumed she was in the emergency room…but the rest of the décor didn't make sense. There was no peeling paint or limp curtains that looked as if they'd been washed a thousand times. No STD posters or bilingual ones. There was actual art on the apricot colored walls…and what looked like an oak credenza sitting up against the wall. Flowers of every color filled several crystal vases and the crowning glory of it all was what looked like a sixty-inch flat screen television attached to the wall. None of it added up.

  “Where am I?”

  “Tisch Hospital,” he said. “You were unconscious, and your head was bleeding. I called an ambulance…”

  “Oh my God! Was I still…I mean, did the EMT's see…?” It was bad enough she was humiliated in front of Alex, but naked on the floor when the first responders got there too was too fucking much.

  “No,” he said quickly. “I found a robe in the back of your closet and put you in it before they got there.”

  Thank goodness for that. Wait…the back of her closet? Her eyes flit around the room again and landed on something red she'd noticed earlier. Her brain hadn't processed it then. Her robe, the red silk one that she only wore when she and Darryl played their sex games, hung over the back of a fancy chair in the corner…oh fuck! She kept it on a hook next to the shelf behind her clothes in the closet. She must not have not pulled the clothes back far enough to cover the shelves earlier. Jesus, she hadn't done anything right all fucking night. Alex must have seen the horror on her face because he looked like he was trying hard to hold his straight as he said, “I didn't look through anything, honest.” Which meant he did look t
hrough it. She wanted to die. “I just took the robe off the hook,” he said. “I just took it down, that was it.” He was protesting too much.

  Oh Jesus, she wanted to die. She wondered if her face was as red as it was hot. She was really not a bad person…why was her life suddenly such a train wreck? She couldn't think of a thing to say that would help this situation at all, but he was still looking at her, waiting for something…so she completely changed the subject. “Tisch Hospital? Really? You couldn't have found a more expensive place to take me? I don't have a job, in case you forgot. Therefore, I don't have medical insurance. You made sure of that when you bulldozed the company I worked for, remember?” He looked like she kicked him in the gut and she felt a pang of remorse…but that was wrong. He's the one that should be sorry, not her. She drew on the anger again because that was the emotion that was easiest to feel. “How am I supposed to pay for this? I have to get out of here.” She started to sit up and he put his hand on her shoulder. His touch was like an electric shock to her system and it took her a few seconds to be able to focus enough to get back on track. He wasn't holding her down tightly, but who did he think he was, holding her down at all? “Let me go. You can't keep me a prisoner here.”

  “Just calm down, Izzy. Nobody is keeping you prisoner. The doctor said that you probably had a concussion and they needed to evaluate you for at least twenty-four hours…”

  “I'm not staying here for twenty-four hours. Do you know how much that will cost?”