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Blackmail – the ultimate in power…
Christopher Patterson is a business mogul, his prowess and influence creating a commanding empire. His methods of takeover are ruthless, and he takes pleasure in garnering every expensive toy money can buy. He holds many secrets, ones that would obliterate his empire if discovered. His nemesis waits, shadowed in the darkness, determined to destroy everything Christopher has worked for. A tortured man, Christopher’s dark needs for complete control prove unsuccessful when dominating a woman. That is until Genevieve Tallen comes into his life.
Genevieve is a successful entrepreneur, her advertising agency well respected. She is lonely and unfulfilled in every relationship, but meeting Christopher is electric. She’s able to release her submissive side and become the woman she finally learns to accept. Drawn into a twisted relationship, satisfying their respective kinky desires, there is no way for her to know she’s fallen into a scandalous web of deceit. A secret men’s club, one fueling every deep-seated fantasy, is the backdrop for blackmail.
Two men vie for a woman’s submission, at the risk of losing their livelihoods as well as their very souls. Forced to face a damning past, Christopher has a decision to make, one that could change his relationship forever. Her obedience tested, only Genevieve can snap the tangled noose, the one dragging Christopher into the pits of Hell.
Danger. Dominance. Destruction.
Are Christopher and Genevieve strong enough to face and accept their needs? Is their relationship strong enough to weather the upcoming storm? Will their love survive?
Publisher’s Note: This suspenseful mystery is intended for adults only. It contains power exchange themes, graphic content including anal, and elements of BDSM. If any of these themes offend you, please do not purchase.
*** Currently available exclusively at Amazon ***
Christopher Patterson sat drumming his fingers on the table, unable to concentrate on the business meeting. He was lost in a moment of soul-searching, something he’d been doing a hell of a lot of lately. As he gazed out the window, his thoughts reverted to her, always to her. She’d become his obsession, a woman he didn’t simply want to taste. No, he wanted to possess her very soul – own her. The thought alone left him in an emotional wave of near frenzy, a heightened state of a raw emotions he simply wasn’t used to. He was a planner, a man with full control over every action, every word emitted from his mouth. His organizational skills were unquestionable. His ability to size up a situation correctly was well known. He took no bullshit from anyone, either in business or pleasure. Both men and women regaled his power, succumbing to his prowess.
Detroit was once considered the city of destination. Now, few of the families, who’d grown wealthy from hard work and determination, remained. Finances were in the toilet, the streets crime ridden and politicians seemingly shady in their practices, at least to the common folk. He was going to make a mark in the corporate world as well as regain his lost millions, one way or the other. Some said he was far too rogue to bring back anything important to the city. He was going to prove them wrong.
Brushing the tip of his index finger back and forth across his mouth, he’d long ago accepted the fact he was ruthless in and out of the bedroom. Few could tolerate his brand of kink; some said his behavior bordered on sadism. He had a myriad of brutal desires, but no one to share his intense needs. That is, until Genevieve Tallen had come into his life. He chuckled at the memory of their meeting, one that had left not only a wretched taste in his mouth, but also an aching cock. From that very day, he’d made a promise to himself. She’d thwarted his advances, pushed him so hard he felt like some damned teenager. The moment they’d embraced, magic had happened. Now, something seemed amiss, the very thing he refused to tolerate.
“Chris. Are you with us?”
The voice was agitated.
Snapping his head to the right, he glared at the room full of stuffed suits, something he’d begun to loathe over the past two years. He was damn good at his job, his chosen career, but he longed for something less conventional. Who the hell was he kidding? His father had ceremoniously pushed him into this position, countering Christopher’s need to weasel away from his responsibilities. His father’s words of responsibility had been said with conviction. Christopher had allowed himself to take over the dying business, assuring his father he’d take the reins with a heavy dose of contemplation. He certainly had. Bulldozing competitors by rather dubious methods, he’d gotten very good at. His reputation was something magazine articles were made of and as his wealth had increased, so had his time alone. No one wanted to play in his ball field any longer. Not that he gave a shit. He gave his most trusted advisor and attorney a shit-eating grin.
A cold chill swept the room.
“Why, John, I think you know where I stand.” Rising to his feet, he allowed the soft but pointed words to sink in. There wasn’t a single person in the room who wasn’t sweating, the smell of fear and testosterone ripe in the dense space. “We’re done with this. All we need is for Mr. Marshall to sign on the dotted line.” Very slowly, he cocked his head in the pompous jerk’s direction. “And I’m certain Mr. Marshall is ready to get on with retirement, basking in the sand and surf. Aren’t you, Bob?”
The sound of silence was tense, everyone holding their breath. No one came up against Christopher. No one.
A full minute ticked by.
Bob fidgeted with the papers in front of him, his eyes locked on the gold pen, one presented the second he and his attorney had walked into the room. There was no denying the terror in his eyes, nor the knowledge Bob would have a cushy retirement package. Yet, the crumbling of what had once been an empire remained the single issue left on the table.
Christopher had no need to say anything else. He refused to give a single additional perk. The deal was done in his mind and if Bob Marshall was stupid enough to risk going against him, then the man would go down in a firestorm, one already prepared. He could care less if anyone else was caught in the trap.
John cleared his throat. “Bob?”
Bob continued to twirl the pen.
Christopher looked out the window at the flood of people in the streets and remained silent. From where he was standing he could hear Bob’s ragged heartbeat.
John leaned forward. “Bob, time is of the essence. Do we have a deal or shall I see you to the door?”
Bob shifted in his seat, stole a glance at his attorney and huffed. “Yeah. Fine. I’ll sign the deal.”
“Excellent.” Christopher walked to the massive bar, one he’d insisted on having in the battle room, as he preferred calling the expansive conference area. Every move deliberate, he opened the crystal decanter, pouring a half glass of his prized Jameson, the beverage he consumed after each conquest. He wasn’t going to offer refreshment for anyone else. This was his moment basking in glory. In the early days, he’d been giddy, thrilled at his accomplishments. He would often celebrate well into the night. Now he simply felt loneliness, an emotion akin to weakness. Sniffing, he held up the glass, studying the amber liquid. The moment was defining. Patterson Consulting had ceremoniously taken down every company waging war against his firm. There was no one left to volley against.
Shame, given he was more than ready for different opportunities. He was hungrier than ever. You know what you need, what you’re desperately craving. You realize what you want and the single thing you can’t have. The ugly little voice was driving him to the brink of madness. He shifted so that no one was able to see his face, what he knew were haunted eyes. As he gazed out the window, studying the massive array of commercial buildings, he could swear he witnessed her reflection in the glint of the sun.
The early morning call he’d made to Genevieve had been frustrating, to say the least. Voice mail. He’d gotten her voice mail more often than not, and he was beginning to get the picture. She no longer gave a shit about the kinky romance they’d shared over the last four months. Could this be true? Shit, now he was second-guessing her, them. He sighed. As he took a swig of his drink, he realized he’d never spent any longer than six weeks, tops, with any female. None. He was too busy, too uncaring, too much in need of the next big goal in life—a life filled with nothing and no one. A shiver trickled down his back. Now was no time to lose his cool. His reputation in all things continued to be at stake. There would always be someone waiting in the wings to cut him to ribbons.
“We’ll make certain you have copies of everything,” John stated as he rose to his feet.
“I’m sure you will,” Bob said quietly.
Christopher continued to sip on his drink as two of his team eased out of the room.
Bob’s voice was right behind him. Christopher turned and seeing Bob’s serene face, his outstretched hand, was almost surprising. He was used to his competition going down kicking and screaming. “Mr. Marshall. I think you’ve made a very wise decision.” He grasped Bob’s hand. The grip was firm, Bob’s handshake solid.
Bob nodded as a smile crept across his mouth. His eyes never left Christopher’s as he leaned forward. “I don’t think I ever told you that I knew your father very well.”
“No, you didn’t,” Christopher snorted. Not that it mattered.
“Frank was a good man, a little rough around the edges, but he knew his clientele, cared for the people who worked with him. Did he ever tell you he never considered anyone in his employ, or the people he came into contact with, inferior? Never. He actually cared about what he was doing.”
Christopher glanced at the other men in the room, all craning to catch Bob’s soft voice, the words being said with conviction. “I didn’t work with my father for long. I don’t know about his business tactics.” Or care.
“Yes, I can tell. You’re nothing like Frank.” Bob’s smile grew wider. “He was selfless. I admired that in him very much.” The grip tightened.
Was Bob trying to make him sweat? The jerk had another thing coming. “My father was a weak man. He had no clue how to run a business. If left up to him, Patterson Consulting would have closed its doors twenty-five years ago.” A full minute ticked by. He never blinked. Nor did Bob.
“Yes, perhaps you’re right.” Bob broke the hold, the smile remaining. “My attorney will have the final paperwork in your office Monday morning.”
“Good enough.” After gulping the remainder of his drink, Christopher set the glass down with a hard thud.
Bob exhaled slowly. “Son, I feel sorry for you. I really do.”
Sorry? What the hell for? He had everything money could buy. He also had other business to attend to. Striding past the long table toward the exit, he knew all eyes were on him. They usually were. When he reached the door, for some unknown reason, he felt compelled to turn around. When he did, he captured Bob’s look almost immediately. He usually noticed resignation, a beaten man. Today he witnessed what could only be described as empathy. “Bob, I’m curious so answer me one question. Why did you tell me about my father?”
Bob walked back to the table, gathering his things. He remained quiet until the various items were nestled in his arms. After nodding to his attorney, he lifted his head, sadness filling his eyes. “Your father was well loved, enjoyed the company of friends and family. My guess is that mask you wear so firmly entrenched on your face is built of loneliness that’s going to strangle you when you least expect it. I wish you the best of luck in all your endeavors, especially in matters of the heart.”
Christopher was able to make it to his office before he had a coughing fit. Slamming the door, he rushed to the refrigerator, grabbing a bottle of water from inside. The ice-cold liquid couldn’t seem to sate him, let alone control his anger. He was enraged the man had gotten under his skin and others had to have noticed his discomfort. Snarling, he held the bottle out, gripping the plastic tightly, his fingers white from the force of his hold. Control. You have to get control. He held the crushed bottle to his head and closed his eyes.
The lilting sound of his phone, a special tone signifying Genevieve was on the phone, put him completely at peace. Nearly tumbling over the corner of his desk, he was able to grab it on the third ring. “Hello, my submissive.”
“Hello, my Sir.” Her voice was sultry, laced with a husky tone, the one indicating she was hungry. “How’s your day going? Conquer any lost souls yet?”
He couldn’t help but laugh. “A few, my dearest. A few. Are you still wet for me, my perfect slut?”
“I stay wet when I think about you. I can’t seem to help myself.”
Her playfulness was beguiling, her seductive nature only one attribute he loved about her. From her wild blond hair and mischievous demeanor to her ballsy attitude and take no shit talk, the woman could eat men for breakfast without breaking a sweat. Perhaps that’s why her submission to him was so powerful. They’d begun the journey almost immediately after realizing how intense their connection was. Unfortunately, they’d hit a wall, a tension he wasn’t certain they could move past. “You’re a very sinful woman, one needing harsh discipline.”
“A naughty girl you adore, the last I heard.” Her laugh was clipped short. “Sir.”
“Hmmm… I think we’re going to have to work on your behavior. Tonight.” The last word was said as an afterthought. For various reasons, he was certain she’d have an excuse for not seeing him. Lately, she’d had several. When she said nothing for a few seconds, he realized he was holding his breath.
“Yes, Sir. I understand. I’ve disobeyed you and must be punished.” The tone of her voice had changed, her inflection almost docile.
Relief swept through him. “Good girl. Seven sharp, I’ll arrive. You know exactly what the requirements are for my arrival. Don’t disappoint me. Tonight is special.”
“Yes.” Christopher rubbed his jaw as he walked toward the duffle bag he’d brought with him, one he carried with him every day. As he smiled, he jerked the bag on top of his desk, fingering the smooth leather handle, the stainless steel zipper, before opening the flaps. He gazed at the contents, drinking in the essence of his collection. Every one of the toys was handpicked with her in mind, a woman who’d allowed Pandora’s box to completely open, revealing the tender side of him, as well as the growing sadist. Some might say he was a monster. For Genevieve, he was her Dom. Perhaps, one day, he’d become her Master.
Her voice quavered, a muffled laugh pushing through the phone. “I’ll be ready, my Sir, for anything and everything you desire. You can do what you want with my body.”
“Good, my sweet sub. I look forward to taking you up on your offer.” The words thrilled him to the point his cock was aching. He pulled out the coiled rope from his briefcase, admiring the thick strands. After hanging up the phone, he laid the rope on his desk and eased out the blindfold, running the silk through his fingers. Tonight, he was going to take both of them to a new level, one of pain as well as pleasure. For tonight, he was going to begin to own her—the ultimate power exchange.
He ended the call and smiled. Seconds later Bob’s words filtered into the back of his mind. No one knew him and he certainly never wanted to be like his father. Ever. He slammed his hand on top of his desk. Why did the concept bother him so much?
“Mmm… What am I doing?” Chuckling, Genevieve Tallen pressed her phone to her lips as she envisioned the night ahead of her. What she realized was that tonight wasn’t about passion or about sex. Sex between them was electric, but they were moving beyond their most basic needs into something else entirely. Calling him ‘Sir’ had seemed right, even though the word had slipped from her mouth unexpectedly. Just a little over four months before, she had wanted to slit his throat, calling him an arrogant bastard in front of her entire staff. That alone was one reason they’d never know that Christopher Patterson, a one-time client, was now a man craving her submission. She adored his power and prowess, even if he did irritate the hell out of her sometimes.
“Making love to your phone again, I see. Need to get you a blow-up doll.”
Instantly, she stuck up her middle finger, then laughed as she shot Carla a harsh look. “Funny girl. You’re really on the edge today.”
“Uh-huh, and I can tell you’re wired as hell. What gives?” Carla asked, as she walked into Genevieve’s office. “That sexy man of yours giving you fits again? Is that why you’ve been in such a rank mood lately? Maybe you need to bring Mr. Secret here, so I can meet him, size him up to see if he suits you.”
“Fits? The delicious creature doesn’t give me fits.” At least since I started sleeping with him on a regular basis. The moment she thought the words, she realized her lover, her Dom, and the only man she’d ever been open with, honestly hadn’t been anything but wonderful with her, albeit his rather distinctive needs. He was a tough, but gentle, man with a dark side, one driving him in business, as well as pleasure. He was opinionated but calculating, a harsh disciplinarian, but certainly patient, at least with her. He also adored her without question. Her reasons for holding back, pushing hard against his command, were very personal. She swallowed at the thought. Secrets were never good in a relationship. That she knew too well.
“See, I can tell by the angst on your face. You’re off your game.”
“Off my game? Never. He’s my respite from the shit that seems to happen every day in my world, and trust me, we get along in ways few could ever understand.” She pushed a file across her desk. Granted, she had trouble concentrating lately.
“That’s an interesting statement, I’m glad to hear it. Kinda thought you’d end up a spinster.” Carla’s eyes twinkled.
Genevieve growled as she tossed her stapler from on top of the desk. “Very funny.”
“Whatever. I say we go to lunch and celebrate wickedness. How’s that sound?” She giggled as she ducked. When Genevieve hesitated, she leaned over her desk. “I thought you said you were game for anything.”
“More than you know. I’ll go if the trip has a stop at Victoria’s Secret along the way.” Genevieve inhaled and could almost taste Christopher’s lips, feel his hot breath skating across her skin. There was nothing she loved more than kissing him, touching every inch of his body. She craved the smell of him covering her clothes, the way he directed her. God, just thinking about him gave her tingles.
“My, my,” Carla purred as she folded her arms. “That man has you all hot and bothered.”
“You have no idea.” Slipping her phone into her purse, she licked her lips for mischievous exaggeration and yanked the leather clutch over her shoulder.
“Good girl. Glad to see you’re smiling for a change. I was getting ready to kick your ass for being such a bitch. At least that’s what everyone else is saying lately.” Winking, Carla fluffed her hair and strolled out of Genevieve’s office.
“Everyone else? Are you kidding me?”
“Not in the least.”
Carla shook her head. “AKA pain in the ass.”
“Funny. Take it on the road.” Genevieve laughed as she trailed behind. The night was going to be intense, and for several reasons, she wanted to look her best, drive him to another plane of hunger. Perhaps her girlie side was coming out, one very few people in her life ever witnessed. She refused to allow anyone to partake in the softer side of the woman she now realized had been hiding behind several masks throughout her life. Somehow, Christopher had managed to slip a very special key into every lock. Perhaps that’s why she’d been pulling back from him lately. Her fears weren’t as much about him as they were about letting go totally and completely.
Her thoughts remained with their unusual relationship. From the second they’d met, the connection was strong, drawing them into each other’s fantasies. Everything about Christopher was demanding, in business as well as pleasure. Every conversation had been about his need to dominate her. No other man had been able to rip off her mask, exposing the submissive woman buried under layers of bullshit. What continued to confuse her was Christopher’s jaded side, purposely pushing away everyone who might consider getting to know him. Why had she been able to shove aside his personal darkness?
“I know exactly what you need. I know you too well,” Carla mused.
Her friend knew little about her and if she did, there was little doubt Carla would never talk to her again. “Then let’s stop wasting time.”
“You’re the pain. Remember?”
A strangled laugh slipped from her mouth. She spent way too much time exploring their relationship instead of experiencing it. Still, Christopher was a complex man, hiding so much of himself behind his bravado persona. She could read him well enough to know he was hurting. Why couldn’t he let her in?
They had to trust each other implicitly to move any further into any kind of a D/s relationship, especially one so intense.
This distinct change in their time together would enhance, alter, the journey. Maybe tonight, she could let go, embrace the woman inside. Maybe tonight, she would become… She exhaled slowly. For some reason she’d never been able to finish the sentence.
“Would you look at this bustier? Oh, my God. Christopher will love this.” Genevieve held up the sassy crimson attire and issued a single moan. Rubbing her hand down the bodice, she tingled all over as she realized she was just about as wet as could be. With every passing few minutes, she was becoming more and more nervous, and she had no idea why.
“You said his name. Christopher, huh? Sounds aristocratic.” Carla narrowed her eyes. “Now I need more details.”
Cringing, she made a mental note to hold back on the expletives. Questions about her relationship she didn’t need. “I think this is the perfect, hot piece.”
“Uh-huh, that’s pretty hot, but would you take a look at the sexy guy peering in at us, namely you, from just outside the store?” Carla mewled as she ribbed Genevieve. “Whew, that man is a sexy hunk of raw sex. I could so do him. Shame he only has eyes for you.”
“Go on, look if you don’t believe me.”
Darting a glance over her shoulder, she could instantly tell the tall blond was watching her, studying her, hungering for her. “Jesus. He’s a bit obvious.” While she couldn’t see every one of his features, she had no doubt what he was thinking by the intense stare. “He has to be looking at something else.”
“With that kind of stare? Baby, that’s an ‘I-wanna-fuck-you-now’ kind of expression and you know it,” Carla chortled.
“Nah. He’s just waiting for something. Perhaps another sexy chick trying on undies.”
“Show me one other sexy woman, Genny. Seriously. Come on and get with the program here.” Sweeping her arms out, she turned in a full circle. “Tell me about these women in this store. See any who are that pretty at all?”
While she adored her friend’s verve, she wasn’t certain Carla understood the fact Genevieve continued to have worries about whether or not she was good enough for a man of Christopher’s influence, or whether he would tire of her in a few months or a couple of years, and find another. She and Christopher had already discussed including other women, but her natural instincts and fears seemed to take over, sending pangs of anxiety into her heart. After all, Christopher himself told her often men only think with their dicks. For a few seconds, she studied the man, trying to figure out why he seemed so brazen. “That’s not the point, and I still say he’s waiting for someone else.”
“Jesus, girl. Do you hear what I’m saying at all?” After a few seconds, she groaned. “You’re such a hard head. Do a little test for me.”
“You heard me. Walk around all the way to the other side, where he’ll have to move to be able to see you,” Carla chided, as she pushed Genevieve’s back.
“Hussy. That’s not fair.”
“Just do it and let me prove a point.”
“A point?” Genevieve asked as she allowed herself another look. The guy could definitely wear a pair of skintight jeans like no other man.
“Yep. Do it, chicken girl.”
Holding the bustier to her chest, she sighed, gave Carla a nasty look, then walked to the other side of the store. She flipped through a rack of bras, selecting a hot pink number, before she causally turned to see if Mr. Hottie was anywhere close. He wasn’t. Her point made. A slight turn and she noticed him standing just outside the bank of doors, his eyes planted on no one else but her. “Fuck me.”
“Told ya. Men are predictable.” Carla’s laugh was sultry.
“Not the passionate hunk I’m dating. He surprises me every day.” She smiled and could tell the guy noticed. This wasn’t good. A moment of guilt raced down her spine. No, she wasn’t flirting, merely observing. “I found what I was looking for. Time to go. Work to do back at the office.” Genevieve held the purchases tightly and purposely took long strides toward the cash register.
“Uh-huh. Chicken. You’re a big ol’ chicken. Why don’t you go and talk to him? Just say hi?”
“Because I don’t want to.”
“Why? He obviously wants you. You like smokin’ hot blonds, so what’s the issue? You flirt with everyone. The one thing you told me about this mystery guy you’re dating is that he wants another woman. Why can’t you have another man? Come on. What’s fair is fair.” Carla flanked her side.
Genevieve stopped short, turning toward her friend, and for the first time she really understood the difference. How could she explain anything about Christopher’s desires, the way he hungered for polyamory? Not a single person in her life would ever be able to understand his needs or their frank discussions.
“What you don’t understand is that I don’t want another man. I not only have no desire for one, I simply don’t need one. Christopher is special and what we have, I refuse to fuck up. Hear me? I have all I need.”
“But you’ve never been satisfied with men before. They’ve never given you what you need. Right? You’ve commiserated with me over several glasses of wine, margaritas, and days spent scoping for hot men, chica. Lies, you can’t tell me.” Carla laughed as she wagged her finger.
Genevieve sighed. A complex series of thoughts and emotions were racing through every cell in her body. Until now, she hadn’t really been forced to face what she was feeling, what she was thinking. She swallowed hard and stole one last look at the man, then smiled.
“There is a difference in me now. I can’t totally explain why, but what I can tell you is that I was playing all along. All these years of hungering for men, enjoying and indulging in various acts of passion and kink meant nothing. They were mere seconds of what I thought was joy. They were…” Her voice trailed off as she thought about the last note Christopher had sent her, the private, but very sexy, discussions held on various chat sites. They were never far from each other, never away for very long. She always knew when something was wrong by the amount of time between texts. How funny she knew his moods instinctively.
“Holy shit. You’re in love with this Christopher.”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” You will call me Sir. His words from the other night had given her pause. Calling him Sir seemed paramount. Until this moment, she hadn’t really thought about his request. No, the statement had been a directive. She smiled as her heart fluttered. Without a doubt, she was falling hard for the man, and she would forever call him Sir.
“I can tell, because you’re so transparent.”
“Not traditional love,” Genevieve insisted.
“Nothing about you is traditional. I mean love, as in letting him inside.”
“Yeah. And that fucking terrifies the hell out of me. You have no idea.”
“Does he know?” Carla asked. “I mean, that Miss Sex Goddess is off the market?”
She had to laugh. “I think he does, but he worries like any man. I have too many suitors.”
“That I know. I have one piece of advice for you.”
“You? My friend who hasn’t had a serious boyfriend in, say, ten years has advice for a woman ready to submit to a man body and soul?” Teasing, Genevieve placed her things on the counter.
“You know I do. Be honest with him. Let yourself go. Tell him everything about why you’ve been holding back.”
“You think I should?” Fears. They both had them. They both pushed them away. They both had trouble voicing any worries or trepidation, but she knew Christopher hated the men who made advances, loathed the fact they could contact her. Sometimes his jealousy worried her. What he may not understand is that she’d indeed agreed to other women, but there were reservations. This level of trust was tough for anyone, no matter who they were.
Carla nodded. “What do you have to lose?”
The question was one she’d asked herself for so long. “Just him breaking my heart.”
“No pain, no gain. Right?”
Genevieve exhaled slowly and thought again about their nearly destructive first meeting. He was so combative in nature. What if the honeymoon period wore off, and she couldn’t tolerate the dark side? Ugh. There were too many questions.
Genevieve stood in her new, very slinky lingerie and glared at her reflection, smoothing down the fabric for about the hundredth time. Why she was so nervous tonight was something she hadn’t been able to grasp. Perhaps because of his few texts that had continued throughout the day, ones that were very pointed and simple, but also profound. The commands were authoritative in nature. Then his husky single word voicemail, one left when he knew she was going to be in a meeting, well… A laugh bubbled to the surface, allowing a quick moan to escape.
A quick turn, and she had to admit she looked damn good. Well, maybe just good.
She had no time for nerves and second-guessing. Insecurities? Hell, this was getting to be an issue.
Not tonight. She pointed her index finger at the woman wearing a sheepish look. “Not tonight. Get it?” There you go. You tell her.
Tossing her head back, she walked into the kitchen to survey the items he’d requested. Everything was just so.
From his favorite paddle—the one he kept in her closet—to the candles, champagne on ice, nipple clamps, and her assortment of butt plugs: everything was ready. She glanced at the clock and smiled. Only five minutes to go. What sometimes surprised her the most was the way her entire body, not just her mind, reacted when he was coming to see her. The need and desire only grew as the weeks passed. She remained wet hours of each day, longing for more time, quiet time… any time. She simply loved the time spent together.
His drink prepared, she grabbed her wine, taking a long gulp. When she noticed the headlights in her driveway, a shiver rolled through her and, for a few seconds, she couldn’t breathe. Her pussy was quivering, her nipples hard and pressing against the tight confines of the bustier. She shut down her little voice, determination remaining. A bead of perspiration trickled down the back of her neck, and she took another sip, savoring the taste, as well as the joy simmering in her heart.
The knock was sharp, but he didn’t wait for her to allow him entrance. Christopher simply came inside, prepared to take what he wanted, what he owned.
Genevieve stood breathless, anticipation kicking her in the ass. The moment she saw his face, his gorgeous eyes, she exhaled. “I’ve missed you.”
Christopher stopped short and gazed down the length of her. “My God. You’re beautiful. A vision. And you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
You have to have her, take her, use her.
The words were never far from his mind.
Christopher wasn’t entirely certain what to expect when he walked into her home, her gleaming kitchen. All afternoon, his anticipation of seeing her, being with her, had kept him from his allotted duties. Even his assistant had commented that his mind was elsewhere. For once, he didn’t mind a bit being sidetracked. Just after four, he’d left the office and headed for a bar. Somewhere along the way, he was sidetracked, taking a detour to the local Home Depot. He hadn’t been in a Home Depot in over a year. There’d been no need in his life.
He chuckled as he held out the new, red rope he’d secured. Seeing the face of the store clerk, who made the mistake of asking Chris what he was purchasing this particular type of rope for, was priceless. The mixture of shock and horror when he answered honestly was quite pleasing. Perhaps he was a sadist. You are a sadist. The thought was comforting.
“You truly look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you, Sir. I prepared everything as required,” Genevieve said quietly, her eyes shifting down to the bondage material in his hands. “Have you been shopping?”
“Nothing but the best for my girl.” His laugh was much needed, and he could feel his tension easing. She always had a calming effect on him, a moment of pure peace in a sea of bullshit. Dropping his things, he moved toward her. Hearing her call him ‘Sir’ made his cock swell. “Did you forget your required greeting already, my dearest?”
She jerked her head up, her lower lip quivering. “No, Sir. Well, maybe yes, Sir. Ugh.” Very slowly, she leaned over at the waist, lifting the hem of her teddy. A slight moan escaped her lips as she spread her legs and reached her arms back.
He walked closer, every move deliberate, as he surveyed the objects on the table. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth. For some reason, he could tell a difference within her, as if she were ready to let go of the last snippet of control. His submissive ‘G,’ a pet name he’d coined in the beginning, continued to have her ways of usurping his authority. There was no method of breaking this down, only time and complete trust would allow her the freedom of unleashing old wounds. This, he very much respected. “Open those lovely ass cheeks of yours.” As soon as he issued the command, he could hear the single grunt.
“Yes, Sir. I, um…”
“Yes?” He could already tell what she’d forgotten. As he moved behind her, he could hear her breathing change, becoming scattered. He pressed down on her back, fingers drumming against her skin. “Genevieve.”
“Yes, Sir.” Spreading her ass cheeks, she dropped her head.
Christopher rubbed under her bodice, dragging the tips of his fingers up and down her spine. Within seconds, he could tell she was more at ease. Brushing his hand down to her ass, he tapped on one cheek, then the other. “I’m going to assume you’ve been a good girl today, obeying my orders.” The moment he touched her, goose bumps popped up along her naked skin. His hunger was unbridled, dark needs relinquishing all sense of decency.
“Yes, Sir.” A moan slipped past her lips.
“Of course you are.” He ran two fingers down the crack of her ass, swirling the tips around her asshole. “I see we’ve forgotten our plug.”
“God! Yes. No excuses. I just…” Her voice trailing off, she grunted as she tossed her head up and down.
Easing his hand between her legs, he closed his eyes as he rubbed her shorn pussy. He loved her clean-shaven. The scent of her, the feel of her soft tissue, was a powerful aphrodisiac and his cock throbbed, pressing against his pants, immediately aching. Visions of tying her down, flogging her mercilessly, roared into the back of his mind. “You’re wet.”
“Yes, Sir.” She shuddered, a nervous tic appearing in her right leg.
“You understand how that displeases me.” Swirling the tips of his fingers around her clit, he inhaled the sultry fragrance of her perfume. “You’ve been playing with yourself.”
She arched her back, pushing her ass closer to him until his fingers slipped inside. “No! Yes. I know. I just… I’ve missed you, Sir.”
“Today, I could think of little else but whipping you.” For a few seconds, he enjoyed playing with her, filling her cunt with his fingers, savoring the way her muscles grabbed at the invasion. He was tingling with anticipation. Tonight was indeed going to be special. As she moaned and undulated, he tried to determine how he was going to bind her, tie her down, for his pleasure. He’d been studying methods of rope tying, something he’d kept from her. Until now, they’d used cuffs and a spreader bar. He had something else entirely in mind. “No plug. You’ve already disobeyed me.”
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry. I hate to displease you.”
“I know you do.”
“I won’t ever again.” Her voice was barely audible.
“I doubt you will. Place your hands on the table.”
She did so without question, her actions stilted.
He pushed her gown up to the center of her back and rubbed his hand around her ass cheeks in a circle. “I ask very little of you when I arrive. Very little.”
“Yes, Sir. I know. I screwed up,” she whispered, her voice filling with angst.
“Shit!” Jumping, she jerked her head in his direction.
“No cussing, or you’ll receive more,” Christopher commanded. His mouth was dry, every nerve standing on end. He blinked away another series of images, vile fantasies. She brought every savage need roaring to the surface.
“Ooohhh.” Her grip tightened on the edge of the table.
His heart was racing, his needs increasing. Tonight, this was exactly where he wanted to be, and with the woman who stilled his heart. Pressing his hand on the small of her back, he issued several hard strikes until her butt cheeks were red, her whimpering continuous.
The single hard slap created a red mark so fascinating that he lingered, savoring the realization she would bruise, wear his marks. He was unsteady with need.
Genevieve shivered and lowered her head, her body glistening with perspiration.
“You’ve done very well so far, but you’re going to learn never to displease me. Consequences are swift.” He wanted to give her more. He needed to issue additional strikes, remind her of her place. Her place. The thought was riveting. He could tell she was holding back portions of herself, as if terrified of allowing him inside, past the powerful woman. His heart was racing, his blood pressure skyrocketing. Only her whimper kept him from being brutal.
“Two more.” For a few seconds he stood blinking, studying her beautiful body, the way she writhed in pain. He was salivating, longing for more. Dear God, he was losing it. Every day with her proved to be more exciting, and he required absolute ownership. The thought was daunting. Gaining control, he shuddered and reared back.
“Ooohhh.” Her entire body was shaking, but after a few seconds, a look of peace washed across her face.
For a few seconds, he remained still, thoughts of the past swimming to the surface. No. What he was before, he would never be again. Never!
She sagged, her body going limp.
The ghostly hold broken, he gathered her into his arms, pulling her back against his chest. As he cupped her breasts, pinching her hardened nipples between his thumb and forefinger, he nuzzled into her neck. The softness of her skin, the tiny purrs erupting from her mouth, made him hard and hungry. He held her tightly, breathing in and out until his heart rate slowed.
Genevieve tilted her head back onto his shoulder and looked into his eyes, hers imploring. “Is the punishment over?”
“For now. Now, you’re going to go and get your plug for me.” He was anything but fine. The ugly visions he hadn’t experienced in at least a year had finally returned. He grimaced and controlled his breathing. Once again Bob’s words entered the back of his mind. They reminded him of those his father used to say, ugly comments said during arguments. Enough!
“Yes, Sir.” She placed her hands over his as she rested her head against his shoulder.
There were no tears. She hadn’t cried during a spanking as of yet, but she’d told him she longed to cry, to completely let go. This was another aspect he was going to give her, a moment where she could completely relinquish her fears, her concerns, and weep. For some reason a wall remained, a protection. Was this because of something in her past, or because of his dark need? His instinct told him that her reservations had a complex reality, one he prayed he could overcome. He held her tightly, caressing her, twisting her nipples until she cried out in pain.
“My amazing Sir.” Genevieve blinked rapidly as she stroked his arms, her entire body quivering.
“Just a man who knows what you need. One day, I’m going to enjoy sharing you with another woman, but there will never be another man in your life. Not one.” Having a second submissive was indeed a burning desire. Seeing the flash of uncertainty in her eyes gave him pause. “You will always be first. Always.”
“I…” She looked away.
He cupped her chin, tugging her head until his lips were just above hers. “Always.”
“Yes, Sir. You’re an amazing man.”
“Now go and select one of the plugs, my sweet. Then we can begin.” When she hesitated, he gripped her arm. “Now.”
“Yes, Sir.” Her look was beguiling, then submission settled into her expression.
Christopher let her go and realized he’d been holding his breath the moment she scampered out of the room, long hair flowing down her back. He loved to watch her move, enjoyed every aspect of seeing her in motion. She was one gorgeous woman. Amazing. No one had ever called him amazing. No, that wasn’t true.
For a few seconds he stood still, ugly thoughts of the past making him clench his hands. He covered his mouth with his hand as visions of the few women he’d allowed into his life rushed through his mind. None of them had ever been exactly what he needed. At least since…
“No,” he snarled and banished the memories.
Eyeing the drink she’d prepared, he took a full sip, then moved the glass to the counter near the window. He surveyed the items she’d presented for him, touched the paddle, finally moving his hand to the leather belt. His lovely submissive was indeed getting a whipping, but not with the items presented. He was prepared to take her to another level. He innately understood they both needed to move to the next phase of their journey, one that would take them to a heightened place. The bold step would increase the strength and trust in their relationship. At least, he prayed to God it would. As he stood staring at the table, he became uncharacteristically petrified.
Another gulp soothed his nerves. A third one gave him strength. He picked up the rope, rubbing his fingers down the woven strands. For some reason, he hadn’t anticipated how anxious he was going to be. This was new for him. This was exactly what his soul needed.
“Sir, I have the plug.” Genevieve held the slender silver plug in her shaking hand, one with a jeweled end, up into the light. The sparkling red gem was meant for nothing more than adornment. The color was also her favorite. Her eyes were flashing, a grin on her face.
“Come.” He beckoned. The plug had been a gift to her, along with a red leather collar. He adored her mischievous side, the way she could understand him and his dark needs. She loved their play time as much as he did, but she was well aware tonight was different, a breach in their usual occurrences. When she was standing in front of him, he tilted his head, his eyes moving back and forth as he looked at the plug. He’d given her the piece barely a month into their relationship, something she was required to wear when they went out. “Hand me the plug and take off your gown.”
Nodding, she offered him the toy and removed her teddy, the thin silk slipping through her fingers and onto the floor.
“Open.” His command was soft, the tone husky.
She leaned over slightly and opened her cheeks, once again presenting herself for his direction.
A quick dip of his fingers into her wet pussy was satisfying, keeping his cock rock hard. After a few seconds, he pushed apart her cheeks then thrust three just inside her ass. “You’re tight.”
“I am,” she breathed.
He slipped the tip of the plug to her asshole and pushed, taking his time twisting until he was able to thrust the toy all the way inside. “Perfect for my submissive.”
Dropping her head, she panted as her legs began to shake. “Mmm.” The moan was bitten back.
When the plug was all the way inside, he sighed and lowered his head, kissing her back. He licked her skin, nipping as she wiggled beneath him. “Good girl. Stand up and place your hands behind your head.”
Again, she did so without hesitation. She knew he was inspecting her, merely a ritual, allowing her mind time to prepare. As she stood tall, her face showing a heightened level of respect with her eyes lowered, he sighed. There would no way they’d ever be able to enjoy a vanilla relationship. He walked around her, allowing his fingers to dance across her skin. The way she shivered from his every touch was something else he loved about her.
“Do I pass, Sir?” Genevieve whispered as she clenched her hands together.
“Utter perfection.” After moving in front, he took both hands and cupped both sides of her face. He could tell she remained apprehensive, the look pensive and full of wonder. He tilted her face as he lowered his head, allowing their lips to touch. Darting out his tongue, he traced her mouth before brushing his lips against hers. He held her tightly as the kiss became a passionate roar, a telling of their almost desperate hunger.
She struggled to remain still, to keep her place, soft purrs pushing past the kiss.
When he broke the hold, he sighed. “Do you trust me?”
The question seemed to surprise her. “Of course.”
“Without question. Why?” Genevieve’s eyes darted back and forth.
“Because tonight begins a new chapter, one I hope will bring us closer, but you have to trust me without question.” When she hesitated, he shook his head.
“With all my heart I trust you. I know you have only the best for me in mind.”
Christopher waited, judging her reaction, making certain of what he was seeing, and there was nothing but love in her eyes. “You’re hesitating. Are you certain you want to do this?”
“With everything inside of me.” This time her voice held conviction.
For a few seconds he couldn’t help but think about how she didn’t really know him, not the man inside, the one capable of wretched deeds. The realization was troubling.
And she would never know.
For a few seconds he questioned his reasons, his very needs, but he could tell by the look in her eyes she hungered for him as well as what was about to occur. Besides, he was unable to stop. He had to own her.
“Then we begin.”