Secrets After Dark (23 page)

Then, suddenly, his tongue is gone and his fingers are thrusting hard into my longing depths, while he is sucking my clitoris into his mouth, his teeth grazing it as he pulls at it long and hard as if it’s delivering ambrosia to him. It begins to throb and vibrate with the pressure, and I can feel my hips jerking in time to the fucking of his fingers deep within me. I’m getting so close, and the effect of the rope and the strain in my muscles is making me long for the release even more.

‘Let me come,’ I beg. ‘I’ve got to!’

‘Come?’ His voice is masterful and almost taunting. ‘You’re just another of those greedy girls who wants to be tickled, aren’t you? Tickled till you spend your juices all over the place. Not yet. You’re going to be fucked first.’

I draw in a shuddering breath. I don’t know how much more I can take of the pain in my muscles or the erotic torment. I keep my eyes shut tight, hoping I’ll be able to endure a little more before I beg for release – in both senses. Now he’s between my thighs, his body huge, strong and hot, nudging my legs even further apart. He’s leaning over my stretched-out torso and I guess that he’s seizing the bedrail on either side of my bound hands. His rock-hard erection is pressed against me, his balls tickling my out-thrust sex. Taking my left earlobe in his mouth, he pulls it into his mouth and bites it just enough to nip me, then whispers, ‘Don’t give in to it. The best is yet to come.’

His penis is now pushing at my entrance but he doesn’t intend to help it enter. His hands are firmly gripping the rail and my own are bound. He is tormenting me just a little further as his tip noses for my hole, sliding in my juices and unable to get in me.

‘Please,’ I beg, ‘please.’ I’m moving my hips to help guide him inside me but he’s always slipping away, until I’m on the brink of screaming with need and frustration. Then he hits the sweet spot and my muscles open easily to admit him. I sigh as he fills me up, taking his shaft into the very hilt, his root rubbing against my mound. I have a burst of renewed vigour, my blood reheats and I begin thrusting up to meet his deep pushes. Now my bounds provide a kind of resistance that allows me to lift myself higher and let him in even further, and his pubic bone grinds against my clitoris, strumming it into a frenzy. He fucks on, gripping the bedrail for support, letting me rise up on my straining muscles to meet him. I start to cry out with every thrust, and I can feel my climax approaching at last.

‘May I come?’ I say in a broken pant.

‘What?’

‘May I come...
please
?’

‘
What
?’

I scream it now. ‘May I come, please,
sir
!’

‘Open your eyes.’

I obey. He’s staring down at me, taking in my helpless state, my excitement, the arousal that’s making my eyes unfocused and desperate.

He leans forward and kisses me, pushing his tongue as deep in my mouth as his cock is reaching inside. Then he pulls away and says, ‘Come for me. Do it for me now.’

As if in perfect obedience, my climax erupts like a molten, golden volcano, engulfing in hot, almost excruciating pleasure. All the pain I’ve felt in my limbs vanishes, transformed into the most intense delight that makes me shudder all over. As the sensations leave me, I feel Dominic gathering pace, seizing me under the bottom with one hand so that he can force me further onto his shaft, before he pours out a boiling orgasm within me.

I fall limp and now I feel the full effect of the rope. My muscles are strained and hurting. Now that the pleasure is over, they ache, and I moan softly.

‘I’d better let you down,’ Dominic says with a smile. His expression is replete with satisfaction.

‘Yes please,’ I say, and as he releases me, I fall to the bed in blissful relief.

He lies down beside me and wraps me in his arms. Nuzzling into my neck, he kisses me gently. ‘That was wonderful,’ he says.

‘Yes,’ I whisper back, hugging back. ‘Worth waiting for.’ I luxuriate for a moment in the closeness of our bodies and the afterglow of our climax. Then I say, ‘You haven’t used ropes on me quite like that before.’

‘Haven’t I?’

‘No.’

‘Oh. Didn’t you like it?’

‘I did. It’s weird how being restrained like that can intensify everything I’m feeling.’

‘That’s the idea. And I got the impression it was remarkably effective if your wailing had anything to do with it.’

I nudge him swiftly. ‘I did not wail! I... I... emoted.’

‘You emoted from here to Timbuktu,’ he replies and laughs.

‘You still want to control me, don’t you? I mean, you still want to be the dominant partner in our lovemaking?’

He runs a hand along my arm as if savouring the soft touch of my skin. ‘I suppose so. I don’t know if I’ll ever change, Beth. Can you bear it if I don’t?’

‘Oh yes,’ I reply quickly, ‘I can bear it, that’s fine. I just wondered... how we’ll explore that, I suppose.’

His voice becomes serious. ‘You don’t have to worry, Beth. I’ve done a lot of thinking while we were apart and I know one thing – I’m not going to use any of those other things on you again. Not whips, or paddles, or floggers. I can’t bring myself to do it ever again.’ He drops a kiss on my shoulder. ‘I know you’ll be glad to hear it.’

‘Yes... yes, of course,’ I say. ‘I want what makes you happy, you know that.’

‘Thank you, my darling, that means so much to me – everything, in fact. After what happened before, I can never risk it again. Like I said, we have limits now. And that’s one.’

I know that the effects of what Dominic did to me with that whip almost drove us apart for ever. I know it sent Dominic into a tailspin when he realised what he’d done. And yet...

I should be pleased that he doesn’t intend to whip or flog me ever again. But I thought that I was the one who set the limits.

As we drift in a comfortable doze, I wonder why on earth I feel so uneasy.

Chapter Thirteen

When I arrive at Albany the next morning, the bodyguard lets me in with a totally blank expression, as if the sound of loud screaming isn’t echoing through the flat. As he’s never said a word to me in the past, I suppose there’s no reason why he would start now, but even so, it’s rather odd that we both pretend we can’t hear the feminine shriek, and then ‘Andrei! Oh, Andrei!’ delivered in a rich Russian accent.

I feel quite light-hearted as I listen to it, as though all is right with the world now that I’m sure that it was Dominic, not Andrei, in the passage that night. And Andrei is obviously very taken with his Russian princess or whatever Anna is – and that’s as it should be. They are very much welcome to one another as far as I’m concerned – I’m just relieved that my conscience is clear. As for whether or not he went so far as to spike my drink... well, I’d rather not think about that right now. Not while I still have this job to complete. At the moment, I’m prepared to get it finished and then get out.

I walk along behind the guard as though I’m also oblivious to the shrill stream of Russian that’s now pouring out from within Andrei’s bedroom despite the thick wooden doors.

It doesn’t take a genius to work out what’s going on in there.

Yeah,
an inner voice shoots back at me.
Battleships.

I go into the office and Edward is there, an iPod plugged into his ears, rocking away gently as his fingers pitter-patter over the keyboard of his computer. When he sees me putting my bag on the chair opposite him, he suddenly yells very loudly:

‘Pleurisy!’

I jump, shocked at the unexpected volume. ‘What?’

‘Sorry,’ he says at a more normal level, as he tugs the headphone out of his ears. ‘I’m listening to something cheerful and uplifting in keeping with the general atmosphere – Mozart’s
Requiem
. And what I said was pleurisy. That’s what Marcia’s mother has. It’s a lung problem. But she’s getting better apparently and Marcia will be back on Monday. So...’ Edward turns his eyes heavenward and cocks his head back towards the door ‘... no more of that racket for me, thank goodness. They’ve been at it since I got here.’ He makes a face at me. ‘That girl’s got a set of lungs on her. Definitely no pleurisy there.’

Marcia’s back on Monday.
It’s Friday. The weekend is coming. I’ve lost track of time with the party in the middle of the week. And I’ve made such good headway on the collection that I’m ready to start considering how to hang it. That means I might get this whole job over with quicker than I thought. The image of the reading girl comes back to me, floating in front of my mind in her purity and serenity.
I must ask Mark about her. Perhaps I’ll go and see him today.

‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ asks Edward, and I look at him blankly. ‘Mrs Banshee in there, wailing away like she’s practising for the annual convention!’

‘Um... no.’ I’m not getting into a discussion about Andrei and Anna with this guy.

‘Oh well,’ Edwards says, picking up his earphones and inserting them back into place. ‘Back to the riotous knees-up that is the
Requiem
. And let’s hope those two have reached the end of their own Gloria by the time I’ve finished.’

I leave Edward to his Mozart and concentrate on accessing my email, so that I can send a message to Mark asking if I can drop by to talk to him. He pings back an email almost at once saying I’m welcome any time, he’s at home, why not come for lunch; in fact, he was going to ask me to come round soon if I wasn’t being kept too busy by Andrei.

I’m ridiculously pleased that I’m going to see Mark. I’ve missed him. As I send back an email confirming I’ll be there, I notice that the noisy lovemaking appears to have stopped. A picture pops into my mind: Andrei is prone in Anna’s arms, they’re both breathing deeply with post-coital languor. She’s running a hand over his head, ruffling his dark-blond hair, and his blue eyes have softened to dark cornflower. It makes me think of someone stroking a lion.
A wild beast is never truly tame. It just decides not to attack you. For now.

An email arrives from Dominic:

Last night was everything I hoped it would be. You’re so gorgeous, I can’t think about you or I’ll get no work done at all. But we’ve got the entire weekend to play with... if you’re not too tied up...

I don’t want to rope you into anything, but keep it free for me

Dx        

His jokes awaken the memory of being bound to the bed and send a delicious tremor through my body. A sudden ache of need startles me. I send back a reply.

I’m in knots just thinking about it. My time is yours, my everything is yours... Bx

I try to put aside the distracting memories of what Dominic did to me last night and do some research into Fragonard, but it’s hard to concentrate. After a few minutes, I decide to head to the kitchen for some coffee, offering to get Edward some as well. I hope Sri isn’t around. I pretty much know where all the coffee stuff is now and I don’t like her making it for me when I’m sure she has plenty of other things to do. I’m pleased to see that the kitchen is empty, and I get on with setting up the coffee machine as I’ve seen Sri do it. I’ve got my back to the door, so I only know that someone is behind me when I hear a voice.

‘Is there enough for two more?’

I turn to see Andrei in the doorway wearing a dark-blue cashmere robe that makes his eyes look almost turquoise. ‘Of course,’ I reply politely. ‘I’ve made a whole pot in case anyone else wanted some. It’ll be ready in a moment.’

He advances towards me, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor. I realise I haven’t seen him since we returned to Albany the morning after the party – not since I discovered that he might possibly have drugged me and I might have had high-induced sex with him.
No wonder I feel a little awkward
. Even though I’m now sure that I didn’t have sex with him, I still feel highly suspicious and resentful about the drink he gave me.

‘How are you getting on with the job?’ he asks, smiling. ‘I’m looking forward to hearing all about it. I haven’t seen you lately, I’ve missed that.’

‘It’s all fine,’ I reply, stiff and unsmiling in return. ‘Nothing to report.’

‘Ah.’ He clearly senses my attitude as his eyes cool and the smile fades. ‘All the same, I’d like a report. First thing on Monday.’

‘Fine.’ I turn back to the coffee pot, which is now full, and reach for two coffee cups from the cupboard.

‘There’s no need, you know,’ he says in a low voice.

‘What do you mean?’

‘No need to be jealous. Of Anna. She’s a good friend and she helps me to release some tension from time to time but it’s not serious.’

I draw in a sharp breath.
He really thinks I’m jealous! How on earth has he made that connection?

Andrei goes on: ‘Anna has a passionate nature... as you’ve probably heard. She doesn’t bottle anything up. I’m sorry if it’s made you uncomfortable. I won’t have her here again.’ He reaches out a hand and puts it on the counter, close to mine and adds in a low voice, ‘If you and I were ever to... be together... well, she would be history. Anna understands, she wouldn’t be upset. I want you to know that.’

His words light a fuse of anger in me. I whirl round. ‘Andrei, I know people are usually too frightened to tell you what they really think, but I have to say that if you’re thinking that I’m in here dying of love for you and weeping because I can hear you and Anna in bed, you’re in for a big rethink. I don’t love you, or want you, and I never will, so there’s no point in kicking Anna out of your bed quite yet!’