by Anna Stone
Camilla ran her tongue down to Lindsey’s entrance and dipped it inside. Lindsey’s thighs quivered. This slow torture was too much. And the thought of her Mistress on her knees, toying with her restrained body, inflamed her even more.
Finally, Camilla slid her tongue up to Lindsey’s clit. Lindsey let out a long, low moan, her muscles growing slack. If she didn’t have the cross to hold her up, she would have collapsed into a puddle on the floor.
Camilla worked her mouth between Lindsey’s legs, her tongue swirling and her lips sucking. A faint murmur arose from Camilla. The sound vibrated deep into Lindsey’s core.
Lindsey trembled. “Mistress!”
One more stroke of Camilla’s tongue was all it took to make Lindsey come apart. Her head tipped back as she let out a cry that echoed through the playroom.
When Lindsey stilled, Camilla stood up and crushed her lips against Lindsey’s. She lifted the blindfold from Lindsey’s eyes. Lindsey had been so lost in ecstasy that she’d forgotten she was even wearing it.
“I’m going to untie you now, okay?” Camilla said.
“Yes, Mistress.”
One by one, Camilla unfastened each of the cuffs from the cross, but she didn’t remove them from Lindsey’s wrists and ankles. She drew Lindsey onto the bed and enveloped her with her arms.
“How are you doing?” Camilla pushed Lindsey’s auburn locks out of her face. “Is there anything you need?”
“Mistress,” Lindsey said. “The only thing I need right now is you.”
She placed her hand on the side of her Mistress’s neck and brought her lips to Camilla’s. The kiss grew hungrier, more demanding. Lindsey’s hands roamed Camilla’s body, taking in every part of her with her fingertips. The curve of her cheekbones. The arc of her neck. The dip of her waist, and the mountain of her hip. The soft skin of her inner thighs.
Camilla’s breath hitched.
“Mistress,” Lindsey said. “May I?”
“Yes,” Camilla said. “You can have me. Slowly.”
Slowly. Lindsey withdrew her hand and shifted down Camilla’s body. She dragged her lips down her Mistress’s neck and along her collarbone. A gentle rumble rose from Camilla’s chest. Lindsey kissed her way along her Mistress’s full breasts and tongued her pebbled peak. Camilla’s chest arched up from the bed, pressing herself harder into Lindsey’s mouth.
Her lips still on Camilla’s nipples, Lindsey snaked her hand down Camilla’s stomach, all the way to where her thighs met. Camilla spread them out wide. Lindsey slid her fingers into Camilla’s slit. It felt slick and warm under her fingertips.
But what Lindsey really wanted was to taste her again. She crawled all the way down her Mistress’s body and parted Camilla’s lips with her fingertips. She dipped her head down and licked her all over. Her petal-like folds. Her silky entrance. Her tiny, hidden bud. Lindsey got lost between her Mistress’s legs, worshiping the treasure that lay within.
Camilla moaned, her hand falling down to the back of Lindsey’s head gently. This wasn’t like last time, when Camilla had been firmly in control. This time, Camilla yielded to Lindsey. Sure, Camilla wasn’t bound and blindfolded. But Lindsey knew that for her Mistress, this was almost the same thing.
“Oh, Lindsey.” Camilla threaded her fingers through Lindsey’s hair, holding on tightly. “I’m so close.”
Lindsey continued, using everything she could to ravish her Mistress like her Mistress had done to her moments ago. It wasn’t long before Camilla let out a gasp, her body quaking as an orgasm took her.
Minutes later, the two of them lay side by side on the bed, totally spent. Lindsey closed her eyes, mumbling wordlessly. She was on another plane, one where nothing existed outside her, and Camilla, and this luxurious bed.
“Lindsey?” Camilla’s voice cut through the stillness of the room.
“Mm?”
“I love you.”
Something fluttered in Lindsey’s chest. When she’d said those words to Camilla, she hadn’t expected Camilla to say them back. Just knowing Camilla felt something for her was enough. But hearing her Mistress say those three little words made Lindsey happier than she could have ever imagined.
“I wanted to say it back to you the night of the engagement party, but I was scared.”
“Why, Mistress?” Lindsey could tell that this was difficult for Camilla. Maybe it would be easier for her to talk about it as ‘Lindsey’s Mistress’ rather than ‘Camilla.’
Camilla shifted on the bed beside her. “Over the course of my life, I’ve become accustomed to being alone. The truth is, it’s easier that way. It means that I don’t ever have to worry about being a burden on anyone. I don’t have to worry that those close to me will start to resent me for all my limitations.”
“I would never consider you a burden,” Lindsey said. “And it’s obvious that you get along just fine by yourself.”
“That’s because I’ve learned to adapt every part of my life around my illness. My carefully regimented routine is a necessity, not a choice. I can’t afford to stray from it, to be spontaneous and free. It’s restrictive. What happens when it all becomes too much for you?”
“It won’t.” Lindsey reached for Camilla’s hand. “Mistress, neither of us knows what the future holds. All I know is that I want to spend it with you, no matter what.”
Camilla was silent. Lindsey turned to look at her. Her eyes were closed and her body was still. The only sign of life was the slow rise and fall of Camilla’s chest.
Finally, she spoke. “Do you mean that? That you want to spend the future with me?”
“Yes,” Lindsey said. “I do.”
“Because our three months is almost up. And ever since the other night, I’ve been thinking about what comes next.”
“So have I. I just didn’t know how to bring it up.” It was only days since Lindsey had told Camilla she loved her, after all. It had been clear that Camilla was still getting used to the idea. Lindsey hadn’t wanted to complicate things further.
“How would you like to move into the manor permanently?” Camilla asked.
Lindsey gaped at her. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. It will be perfect. Nothing will have to change. You can spend your days in the sunroom, working on your art, without having to worry about a thing.”
Lindsey let out a wistful sigh. “That does sound perfect. But I wouldn’t want to be a kept woman.”
Camilla laughed. “A kept woman? Is this the 1920s? Where on earth did you hear a term like that?”
“If you really want to know, it was Denise.”
Camilla shook her head. “That’s so like her.” She placed a hand on Lindsey’s shoulder. “You won’t be a kept woman. You’ll be my girlfriend. My partner. My submissive. So, what do you say?”
“Yes, of course. I would love to stay here with you, Mistress.”
“You have no idea how happy that makes me.”
Lindsey brought her lips to Camilla’s. This was everything she’d ever wanted. Everything she’d ever dreamed of.
Then why did she have this unshakable sense of unease gnawing at her stomach?
Chapter Twenty-One
Lindsey peered over her sketchpad at her Mistress. Camilla lay stretched out along a chaise lounge on her side, wearing nothing but a robe made of pale pink silk. Her straight brown hair flowed down over the arm of the couch, and the afternoon sun streamed through the window behind her, giving her a golden glow.
Lindsey looked back down at her sketchpad. For the last half hour, she’d been trying to draw Camilla. Lindsey wanted to do something nice for her, to give her a gift that was unique and personal. At first, she’d tried to draw Camilla from memory, but she couldn’t get it right, so she’d asked Camilla to pose for her.
But even now, Lindsey was struggling. Maybe it was just nerves. This was the first time Lindsey had let Camilla into the sunroom she’d transformed into her studio. And just moments ago, she’d shown Camilla her art for the first time. Lindsey felt like her so
ul was on display.
Camilla yawned and stretched out her arms. “Christ, is this what people did before cameras were invented? I should ask June to bring me a bottle of wine.”
“Hold still.” When Lindsey looked up from her sketchpad again, Camilla was giving her a frosty look. “Sorry! I mean, please hold still, Mistress.”
“All right,” Camilla said. “Can I talk, at least?”
“Yes, just try not to move too much.”
Frowning, Lindsey attempted to fix the shading around Camilla’s eyes. How was she supposed to capture the likeness of this larger-than-life woman that she knew so intimately with nothing more than a stick of charcoal and a piece of paper?
“I was thinking some more about the future,” Camilla said. “About us, and you. Have you thought about making a career of your art?
“I don’t know,” Lindsey murmured.
“Isn’t that what you always wanted to do with your life?”
“I guess.” Lindsey paused, her charcoal poised above the page. “But I have all those bills to pay off.”
Camilla propped herself up on one elbow. “Darling, I was always going to give you the money to cover your medical bills. That hasn’t changed now that we’re actually in a relationship. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”
Camilla had a point. Lindsey didn’t have any reason not to pursue her dreams. She felt a surge of anxiety. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet.”
“Are you really not ready? Or are you just afraid?”
Lindsey didn’t answer.
“You’ve shown me your work, Lindsey. You have real talent. I know good art when I see it, and yours is wonderful. It would be a shame to hide it from the rest of the world.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Well, if you decide you want to put yourself out there, I have a friend who owns a gallery in the city. If you put together a portfolio, I can show it to her.”
“I wouldn’t want to take advantage of your connections,” Lindsey said.
“You wouldn’t be. My friend is always looking for works by fresh talent. And she’s merciless when it comes to anything that isn’t to her taste. She won’t hesitate to turn you down if she doesn’t like your work. But I know she’ll love it.”
“Can I think about it?”
“Sure.” Camilla settled back onto the chaise.
Lindsey stared at her sketchpad and sighed. This was all wrong. If she couldn’t even draw a simple sketch of Camilla, how was she supposed to create something worthy of showing in a gallery?
“Are you okay?” Camilla asked.
“I’m just struggling with this, that’s all,” Lindsey said. “Maybe we should do this another time.”
Camilla sat up. “Come here, Lindsey.”
Lindsey placed her sketchbook on the chair and slunk over to sit next to Camilla.
Camilla draped an arm around Lindsey and pulled her close. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you.”
“It’s not that. I’m just having an off day.”
“You do seem tense. How about we do something else instead?” Camilla’s voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “Something to help you relax.”
Lindsey smiled. “Like what, Mistress?”
“Like have a little fun in the playroom together.”
Lindsey glanced at the clock. It was mid-afternoon. “Don’t you have to work?”
“Last time I checked, I was in charge. I can do whatever I want. And right now, what I want is you.” Camilla drew Lindsey in close and kissed her, hard. “Playroom. Now.”
“Relax.” Camilla brushed her fingers along Lindsey’s bare back. “You’re still too tense.”
Lindsey murmured into the pillow. She was lying naked on her stomach on the playroom bed, the cuffs around her wrists and ankles and the blindfold covering her eyes. Camilla was in the middle of giving her what could only be described as a kinky massage.
Camilla’s hands were replaced by long, thin tails that swept across Lindsey’s back. It had to be a flogger. She shivered, her muscles loosening. The leather strips tickled her skin.
“That’s much better,” Camilla said.
She flicked the flogger against Lindsey’s back, first gently, then a little harder, ramping up the intensity with each strike. Lindsey moaned with bliss, letting the smacks resonate through her body. She was starting to enter that space where everything outside of her seemed to fall away.
“Are you feeling more relaxed now?” Camilla asked.
“Yes, Mistress.” Lindsey’s sensitized skin tingled pleasantly, and there was a faint scent of something sweet and floral in the air.
“Then it’s time for the fun to really begin.”
Lindsey reveled in her powerlessness. The cuffs around her ankles and wrists weren’t attached to anything, so she wasn’t restrained in any way. However, being blindfolded still made Lindsey feel on edge, and she found that rush almost as addictive as Camilla herself.
“Stay perfectly still,” her Mistress said.
Camilla’s footsteps receded from the bed. Lindsey listened carefully, but she couldn’t hear a thing. She took a deep breath, and froze.
The sweet scent that had filled the room had been replaced by something else. Something smoky, like burning oil. It hung so thick in the air that Lindsey couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, the cuffs around her ankles and wrists felt tight and restricting, and the darkness shrouding her seemed to swallow her up. She was trapped, unable to move, the smell of fuel and smoke from a fire she couldn’t see-
“Lindsey?” Her Mistress’s clear voice cut through her nightmare.
“Apple,” Lindsey whispered.
At once, Camilla was on the bed with her, tearing off the blindfold. Lindsey opened her eyes to see her Mistress staring back at her.
“Are you all right?” Although Camilla tried to hide it, there was a hint of panic in her voice.
Lindsey nodded, blinking against the light. She sat up. On the nightstand next to her were two lit candles. Candles, the kind used to drip hot wax on someone’s skin. That’s what the smell was. Now, it smelled nothing like burning fuel. Lindsey’s brain had made that part up on its own.
Camilla grabbed a thick blanket from the end of the bed and draped it around Lindsey’s shoulders. Lindsey shivered and pulled it tight. Her heart was finally slowing down to normal.
“What’s the matter?” Camilla asked.
“I’m sorry,” Lindsey said quietly. Camilla seemed hesitant to touch her. But considering how erratically she was behaving, Lindsey didn’t blame her.
“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I didn’t know that was going to happen. I thought I was okay with being blindfolded and all the other stuff, but I’ve just been feeling so off, and-” Lindsey’s lip quivered. “I’m sorry.”
Camilla wrapped her arms around Lindsey and pulled her in close. “Lindsey, it’s fine. You used your safeword. That’s a good thing. And even if you hadn’t, I could tell something was wrong. Do you want to tell me what all this is about?”
Lindsey hesitated. “It was just, the darkness and the smell of smoke. It reminded me of the car accident I was in. I’ve been jumpy about certain things since then. Long car rides. Driving at night. Smoke, apparently, too.”
“It sounds like what you went through was difficult,” Camilla said.
Lindsey shrugged. “I guess.”
“Have you talked to anyone about it?”
“Not really.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know,” Lindsey said. “I feel like I’m making a big deal out of nothing. Lots of people get into car accidents. I walked away from it fine in the end. Plus, it was all my fault.”
“Why do you say that?” Camilla asked.
“It happened when I was driving across the country to my parents’ house at the very end of senior year.” Underneath the blanket, Lindsey brought her hand up to the scar on her co
llarbone. “I’d basically spent the whole week drinking and partying. I was sober by the time I started driving, but I was really tired. I was on this long stretch of highway, without any streetlights, and there wasn’t a car in sight. I don’t know what happened exactly, but the next thing I knew, my car had gone off the road and I’d hit a tree.
“I hit my head in the crash, and when I came to, the lights had gone out, and it was dark, so I couldn’t see anything. And I was trapped in the car, and I couldn’t move. But I could smell smoke, and all I could think about was that the car was about to burst into flames and I’d die there, all alone, trapped in the dark.”
“Lindsey, that must have been awful.”
“That’s the thing,” Lindsey said. “I wasn’t really in any danger, I just thought I was. Cars don’t explode like they do in movies. I looked it up afterward. It doesn’t happen.”
Camilla rubbed her hand along Lindsey’s arm. “You didn’t know that.”
“That doesn’t make me feel like any less of an idiot for panicking over nothing. I don’t even know how long I was trapped in my car for, but it felt like forever. Eventually, a woman drove past and called 911. She stayed with me until help came. They had to cut me out of the car. I ended up with a concussion and some broken bones. Apparently, I was lucky that I wasn’t injured more seriously. I had a handful of surgeries and got out of the hospital after only a couple of weeks, but I had to do physical therapy for my broken femur for months afterward. I ended up moving back across the country to live with my parents while I recovered.”
Camilla stroked Lindsey’s arm. “That must have been hard.”
“It was,” Lindsey said. “But what came next was even harder. After I recovered, it felt like the whole world had changed. I moved back here, but all my friends from art school had moved on without me. I felt so anxious, and lost, and alone, but it was more than that. I’d changed. I just wasn’t the same person I used to be.”
“That’s not surprising,” Camilla said. “What you went through sounds pretty traumatic. It would make anyone anxious. And those kinds of experiences can change you.”
