Dark Blue: Study in Seduction, Book 1, page 16
“Have you enjoyed your swim?”
Carla had just laid the towel on the lounger when Alex crossed the courtyard towards her.
“Yes, thank you. How’s the paper going?”
He shrugged. “Okay, if you’re into the sexual politics of the Cavalier poets.”
“I am. I’d like to do my second-year dissertation on them.”
His eyes glittered in the sunlight. “Then I’ll give you some extra tutorials when we’re back in Oxford.”
She sensed a change in atmosphere, subtle yet enough to bring goose bumps out on her flesh. “Not now?”
“I’ve other lessons in mind for you now.”
The shift was obvious, and the air shimmered between them like the heat haze above the mountains. “I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of lesson yet.”
Alex held out his hand. “Oh, you are, Carla. More than ready.”
Her limbs were heavy as she let him lead her across the courtyard and through the cool interior of the house to the guest wing. Inside, the house was silent.
“Is everyone definitely out?” she asked, sensing they needed total privacy for what he might have planned. Even the anticipation of it made her shiver inwardly.
“There’s no one within a mile of La Bastide. No cleaners due, no Maman, no Olivier and no Gaby.”
He opened the door of the guest suite and gestured for Carla to go in ahead of him. She passed through, and he turned the key behind her.
“Do we really need to lock it if there’s no one around?”
He smiled. “Better to be safe than sorry.” He crossed to the French doors and drew the muslin drapes across, leaving the shutters open so that muted sunlight still lit the room.
Then he turned to her, and his eyes darkened, no longer the urbane Alex but a sensual predator.
“Go into the bathroom, take off your bikini and then come out here to me,” he ordered.
Her stomach did a somersault. So this was it. She’d known what was coming, and there was no going back. This would be uncharted territory for her, and she hoped it might lead to a new intimacy with Alex. She wanted to submit completely to him and embrace the pain and pleasure involved with equal gratitude.
“Yes, Alex,” she said quietly.
In the bathroom, she unwound the towel and placed it on the rail. Her wet fingers fumbled with the damp knot of her bikini, and her arm shook as she pulled it over her head. Her breasts were already so heavy with arousal, they almost hurt, and when she slipped her bikini pants off, they were wet, not simply from the water but from her need for him.
The tiles were cool under her bare feet as she caught sight of her flushed face in the mirror and her nipples, pebbled and berry red. There were muted sounds from the bedroom, but one she could not mistake: the drawer being opened and the gentle thud of it being closed.
She shut her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Carla. I’m waiting.”
At his command, she opened the bathroom door and stepped into the bedroom.
Alex stood by the bed, barefoot, the martinet in his hand. At all four corners of the frame, twisted silken cords snaked across the white cover like serpents on fresh white snow to a space in the centre.
A space prepared especially for her.
He laid the martinet on the cover and started to unbutton his shirt front, and her hand flew to her mouth. Was her lesson with the martinet going to be so rigorous that he needed to strip off to deliver it? Carla stopped a few feet away. She didn’t think she could surrender that much to Alex, give that much to him.
“Alex. I don’t think I can do this.”
He paused, his shirt unbuttoned above the waist, revealing the smattering of dark hair across his chest. “I think what you’re trying to say is that you’re not sure you can abandon this much control. You think I’ll take you beyond your limits.”
Her throat was dry. “You already have done, but this might be too far.”
He laid the martinet on the bed. “Come here, please.”
The “please” encouraged her, so she walked forward to face him.
He touched her cheek. “If it reassures you, I’m always judging what your limits are, testing them out, edging you a tiny bit beyond, but I do understand if you don’t trust me, more than you imagine. You can admit to that.”
“I…I’m not sure, Alex.” She wasn’t afraid that the cruel kiss of the martinet would be too much to bear. She didn’t trust him to let her inside his own fears and secrets. And she knew he had them and had buried them deep in the shadows of La Bastide, far away from the light of the sun.
He ran his finger over her nipples. “You will trust me because I trust you, and I’m going to prove that. You can feel what it’s like to be in control, what it’s like to wield the martinet yourself, and then you can tell me if you trust me again. If you really don’t want to experience it, then I’ll never push you again. All I ask is that you allow yourself the chance to find out.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Alex unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and stripped it off. Though she’d seen him naked many times now, the sight of his tanned chest and taut abs still made her shiver with lust. And that desire was stoked higher by the thrilling fear of what he had in mind. Him trust her? Her wield the power?
It was an idea as intoxicating as any wine.
His boxers were stripped off with his jeans, and he stood before her, powerfully nude, his erection jutting in front of him.
“Pick up the martinet,” he said.
Pick it up? Did he mean…? She guessed what he expected, but shock paralysed her. “No. I can’t.”
“You can and you will. You need to feel what it’s like to be in control and know the responsibility. Then you’ll know that I won’t go any further than you need.”
But probably further than I want. Need and want are two very different things.
She took the whip from the cover as Alex moved to the foot of the bed. He stroked her cheek. “Tres bien, Carla. You can do this.”
Could she? Carla was so far from feeling in control, it was almost a joke. The handle of the whip was cool and smooth against her hot palm. Its lashes hung limp and innocent. It felt like a child’s toy in her hand, all the threat gone.
He gripped the upright of the bedframe, one hand above the other, leaning forward. His back was smooth, his muscular thighs spattered with dark hair, his firm backside paler against his tanned back and limbs. She didn’t want to mark or blemish such austere beauty.
“Do I need to tie you up?”
He laughed softly. “I hope not.”
“How do you know I won’t go too far?”
“I don’t. I’m going to trust your judgment. That’s the point. Try it.”
She flicked the whip experimentally through the air, but there was no sound. “Even though I’m inexperienced.”
“Yes.”
Her hand trembled. She didn’t want to hurt him, or rather not to hurt him too much, yet she didn’t want to look weak or insult him. This was so much more difficult than she could ever have imagined. Not that she had imagined it; being dominant had never been part of her fantasies.
He shook his head in disbelief. “Do it. No more arguments. Afterwards, you can decide if you want your turn,” he said. “Remember, the aim is to take me to my limit, and perhaps a little beyond.”
Her limbs liquefied. Was that what he intended for her after her turn was done? Would he reciprocate the pain she dealt him? She flicked the whip again, harder this time, and it made a faint hiss in the air. Was that about right? She stood back a foot away from him. Where should she hit him first? Could she do him any real harm? Would the lash mark his skin? It had to, even if she was gentle.
“Carla.”
Oh fuck.
At his word of command, she flicked the martinet at his buttocks. Instantly, the lashes curled around his flesh and the skin reddened.
Her free hand flew to her mouth. “Oh God. I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need. You haven’t hurt me.”
“Really?”
He turned his head and tutted at her. “You will never make a dom, Carla.”
“Sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry and get on with it. Forget sweet, sensible Mrs. Jonas and try again.”
“Okay. As long as you understand I really don’t know what I’m doing. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
As Alex laughed, she flicked the martinet. There was a soft snap as the tails made contact with his skin. His gluteal muscles tightened in automatic reaction to the stroke, but he didn’t make a sound.
“Again,” he ordered.
This time, she drew her arm farther away from his body before she flicked her wrist. The tails flew down with much greater force than she’d expected, making a loud crack through the air and wrapping around his buttocks and thighs.
She thought he made the tiniest of sounds, more a hiss through his teeth than anything else.
“Again,” he ordered.
“Alex…”
“I said, do it again, Carla.”
She drew her arm back much farther and, before she had time to think, cracked the martinet as hard as she could across his buttocks. This time she heard his instant groan of, “Fuck,” saw his knuckles whiten around the bedpost. His muscles clenched tightly to evade the sting of the lash.
“That’s enough. I won’t do this again. I’ve hurt you!” She threw the whip onto the bed, horrified at the raw lines crisscrossing his thighs and buttocks. Alex turned and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly.
He was laughing softly. “I’m fine. Really.”
“I hurt you.”
“It was nothing. No worse than Madame Zidane.”
“I hate Madame bloody Zidane for doing this to you.”
He laughed. “How did it feel?”
“Wrong.”
“And how do you feel when you are on the receiving end?”
“I feel…at peace. That’s a terrible thing to say. I ought to be shot for it, but while it’s scary…very scary, and sometimes it hurts more than I like, it’s also a huge release just to surrender and accept whatever happens. Alex, I don’t want the responsibility of judging and getting it right. I don’t want to be in control or doing what I should, what people expect of me at work, with my family or at college. I want to let go of all that.”
He kissed her and held her then. Finally, it was crunch time. “So, now it’s your turn. Your time. You must tell me clearly that you want this.”
Did she want it? She wanted to bare herself and surrender utterly to Alex, yet something still held her back. She trusted him, almost trusted him—she would never be one hundred percent sure of this man, not here in this room with him or out of it, but perhaps that was the whole point. She wanted to see where Alex would take her and if she really could allow him full control of her body and heart.
He sank to his knees and ran his finger through the honeyed stickiness of her sex, and she had her answer.
“Mon dieu, Carla.”
“I can’t help being like this, so wet. I’m scared of the martinet, but I want you to do this too. What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing’s wrong. You’re right to be a little afraid. This is new territory.”
“Will it hurt?”
He kissed the fluff of hair at the top of her pubis and looked up at her with shining tenderness. “Yes, it will hurt, but you won’t mind. I promise you.”
Before she had time to process this dark combination of sensual threat and promise, he’d swept her into his arms and laid her on the bed. Now she knew what the four loops were for. Not to tether her facedown to the bed but to restrain her face upwards. Her breasts would be exposed to him and her most intimate places fully opened to the martinet.
“Put your hands above your head.”
Alex’s voice was raw as he swiftly looped a cord around her wrist and knotted it. The cord bit into her skin a little, and she twitched. She expected him to ask if it was too tight, but he’d already taken her other wrist and was tying that with the cord. She’d been restrained like this before in his bedroom at Oxford, and the cords were shorter this time, the knots tighter. Her heart beat wildly.
“Spread your legs apart, ma cherie.”
“Alex?” The word hadn’t meant to be a question, but it betrayed doubt.
“Trust me. Remember.”
She opened her legs, and Alex took her ankle and looped the cord around it.
“I can’t reach both cords.”
“You can.” He took the other ankle and secured it, pulling the knot just tightly enough that she had to open her thighs so wide the muscles stretched taut. The other ankle received a silken shackle too, until she was spread-eagled on the bed, her knees slightly bent to enable Alex full access to every part of her. It wasn’t comfortable, and it wasn’t meant to be; the opposite, in fact.
If she hadn’t been restrained so firmly she might have trembled with excitement and fear. She’d made love to Alex many times, he’d gone down on her deliciously often, but this was a new level of vulnerability, a new level of exposure. Her pulse throbbed against the knots in the cords, and her clitoris ached in anticipation of his touch, his mouth and, yes, the lash of the martinet.
He gazed down at her. “You look so beautiful and perfect. Your pussy is glistening. You’re ready for this, even if you don’t know how much.”
Her reply was a whimper of pleasure as he climbed onto the bed and dipped a finger inside her.
“But first…”
From the bedside table, he picked up a black velvet mask like the one he’d worn to the party but without the eyeholes.
“You didn’t say anything about a mask. It wasn’t part of the bargain.”
He placed a finger on her lips and knelt between her legs. “Total trust, Carla. I expect that from you. You agreed.”
“I won’t able to see you. I won’t know what you’re going to do!”
“You don’t need to see. Look on the mask as a gift to all your other senses and simply feel. Embrace what’s going to happen.”
He slipped the mask over the top of her head, and the room was instantly black. She felt Alex climb off the bed, heard the springs creak, and then silence. The seconds ticked by, lengthened unbearably by the tension. The cords tightened around her wrists as her body tensed. She had to try to relax, accept, enjoy.
“Oh!”
The faint swish of leather through air was instantly followed by her gasp. Not because the first stroke hurt, because it didn’t. It was no more than a flick, but it was the surprise. She’d expected it to be across her damp sex, and instead, the tails of the whip had struck her nipples. The martinet’s kiss brought the blood rushing to her skin, making her nipples almost burst.
Again. Alex dealt another stroke to her breasts. Each stripe was almost a caress, yet even the lightest lash across her sensitized nipples made her gasp. The little flicks across her breasts continued so rapidly that she hardly had time to breathe. It did smart now, as he layered lash upon lash, increasing the intensity until she couldn’t help but cry out.
“Alex!”
His voice was high above her, soft now. “You want me to stop, cherie?”
She took a deep breath to compose herself. “No.”
“Good. I told you to trust me. Now I think we can go a little further, yes?”
He waited for her answer, and she gave it on a sigh. “Yes.”
The air seemed to move as the tails of the martinet struck her thighs harder, setting the skin aglow. Involuntarily, she pulled against the cords and writhed against the cover as the strokes built in intensity. The tails sought and found every tender, exposed part of her: her thighs, her sex, the cleft between her pussy and bottom. It hurt now, she couldn’t pretend otherwise, but she felt even more determined not to give in. Her clit ached for him to touch her, and she wanted him inside her.
The whip cracked sharply in the air, and a split second later, the fronds stung fiercely. Her pussy and thighs were on fire now. She wriggled in the bonds, trying to avoid the whip as Alex delivered three more strokes, and the bed sheets grew wet with her arousal.
“Ow…oh…”
She twisted the cords tightly in her fingers, but it was no good. She couldn’t take any more, no matter how much she wanted the sensual torment to go on and on.
“One last kiss,” he said.
“No!”
Too late. The leather tails bit into her thighs and pussy, and she let out a howl. The stinging final stroke had instantly brought tears to her eyes that spilled down her cheeks from beneath the mask. He’d gone much too far. She waited for him to apologise, untie her, take her in his arms and beg her forgiveness, but there was only silence. She gulped in air as her skin burned and her tormentor was a silent presence above her.
“I hate you, Alex!” she called into the darkness.
Second later, she felt his lips on hers and a whisper. “I know. It’s over now, ma cherie. All done.”
She lay, panting, unable to process her feelings for him. There was a raw soreness now, warmth and tingling that spread over her skin where the lashes had fallen. The tears wet her eyelashes underneath the velvet of the mask as her pussy throbbed with the sting of the lash but was already giving way to a gnawing need. She felt pressure on the bed as he climbed onto the cover again, his body between her legs, his fingers trailing lightly against her sore skin. “Did it hurt?” he asked.
“Yes. More than I expected. I was angry with you. You broke your promise.”
There was no hint of apology in his voice. “Did I? I didn’t lie. I said I’d take to your limit and a little beyond.”
“A lot beyond, you bastard.”
“Close your eyes.” His voice was hoarse as he pulled the mask from her eyes and over her head. She blinked, the light making focus almost impossible. She was still restrained but could see purply red trails crisscrossing her stomach, breasts and thighs. Her whole body tingled and throbbed as Alex climbed between her legs again, and his cock, thick and unbearably beautiful, jutted out.
